#Woman Falls On Treadmill

[fingertipsmp3]

I swear to god everything from the weather to my equipment to my neighbours to my own fucking body is conspiring to make sure I don’t get a good run this week

[junislqve]

ᯓ 50 first dates — heeseung

“cursed with the gift of memories”

syn well-known for his charm and charisma, lee heeseung’s name travels through well with tourists. giving them the best dates and nights of their life. heeseung’s strictly only into one nights stands, running away from commitment even before it was there to chase him. however, his life changed completely when his eyes fell upon a woman. a woman who he knows he could never get. but that has never stopped him, hasn’t it?

feat. hyung line yeji (itzy) hyunjin (skz) | wc 5901 words

pairs fuckboy!heeseung + reader | cw s2l one sided pining? fuckboy turned sweet angst fluff smoking drinking mentions of hook ups mentions of an accident memory loss profanity — mlist navi

note entry for @cupidhoons ’s 1k event >< i tweaked a few things here and there, but i hope you all enjoy it nonetheless

“he’s incredible” she says, grabbing her mojito from the bartender. looking back to her friend, “he’s got these eyes that just hold a mischievous look, you know?”

“so? what else happened that night?” another guy asked his friend as she was running on the treadmill.

“we had dinner at this small restaurant and we talked about our lives. it was just like a movie” a woman said as she recalled the night, chatting off while writing her thesis.

“was that all?” a girl’s sister asks while both of them were getting ready for a party.

“we had the best night, he’s so sweet and caring and everything i ever want in a man” a woman said to the worker who was massaging her.

“did you get his number?” her friend asked while handing her a cup of coffee.

“thats the thing” she said, eating lunch at a restaurant. “when i asked for his number he told me he had a girlfriend”

“what’s his name?” her manager asks handing her the new papers.

“lee heeseung”

all over, dozens of women have the same story to tell of the same man. lee heeseung. his charm goes around that has tons of tourists falling head over heels for him.

although really, the charm only consists of the same things with each women; talking to them at whatever place he lands in, telling them about his life stories he’s crafted perfectly, and in the end giving them a good night.

he really had no problem with this routine, figuring they’d all leave soon anyway. dismissing any of their attempts to stay in contact with him by making up on the spot excuses.

“seung” jake exasperates, calling him for the nth time. “you in or not?”

puffing out the smoke, he hummed agreeing to whatever they were talking about.

“we’re diving tomorrow, be at the docks at 5 AM” jay says, grabbing the cigarette pack and throwing it on to the table. “sharp.”

“can’t, i have to take care of the dolphins” heeseung sighs.

“can’t you tell your cousin to do it?” sunghoon asks, taking a swig of the whiskey.

“haven’t you seen him?” he says, referring to his coward of a cousin. as the four continue to talk around the slowly dissipating fire.

heeseung woke up the next day tending to his dolphins. feeding them food and watching them as they swim and did tricks. he sat on the docks, letting his feet hang over the edge, patting the dolphins every once in a while if they snuggled his legs.

he got up about half an hour later and headed to one of the local diners in town. a small, dingy house close to where he works. he sat on the bar stool and a girl who looked around his age took the order.

“i’ll just have coffee, thanks”

“seriously? you look like you’d get blown off by the wind” the girl says, “i’ll fix you up a sandwich”

heeseung smiled profusely, confused whether he should be offended or grateful. he skims through the men looking over the unique variety of choices, when the reflection of the sun seems to be hitting him. he looked up to the direction with squinted eyes and he was so glad the sun shined perfectly at him.

to say he was captivated was an understatement. your hair sat down perfectly on your back as you smiled at the menu like it was an interesting book. you set down the spoon you were playing with and the barista walked up to you to take your order.

heeseung’s eyes never left you, entirely too enthralled just by your presence. he decides to make a move, getting up from his spot and sitting across from your seat that’s conveniently vacant. he watched as the barista placed your plate of pancakes in front of you.

“thanks, yeji” you smiled up at her. he can’t tell which was more angelic; your voice or your smile.

you picked up your pancakes and started stacking them, heeseung watched with curiosity. you started off making a mini volcano as the steam from the heat drove up. minutes later, when heeseung’s eyes left you for a while, your volcano had transformed to a house. you continued stacking the bread carefully.

picking up a small piece, you intended for it to be the door to the supposed house. when suddenly, a toothpick drove through them from the top.

“it creates a hinge” someone says. you look up, which appeared to be a wrong move because the man that stood in front of you might’ve just been carved by the gods.

his hair roused messily atop his head and a grin that you swore had your heart clenched. you momentarily freeze up, scanning over your words for a decent reply.

“oh, thanks” you trail off, showing a small smile.

heeseung was about to sit back down at his spot until you braved yourself.

“hey” you pause awkwardly as he turns back to you “i see you’re alone as well, why don’t you sit with me”

heeseung’s grin doubled and he sat down across from you. from then on, heeseung didn’t know what he got himself into all he knows is that your voice was addicting and your smile held the world.

you both had a long conversation about your lives. he told you about his work in wildlife as a marine veterinarian, tending to the dolphins mostly. and you told him about your work as an art teacher in a school nearby.

you listened intently, thoroughly interested in his job, “my dad works as a fisherman”

“oh really? so you know how to fish” heeseung perked up.

“no, i’ve never really been interested in it” you replied, “but i’m used to the smell of the sea, you reek of it”

heeseung scoffed playfully, “i know, i just went back from feeding the dolphins. probably should have cleaned myself up before”

“no!” you exclaimed trying to fix your tone, “i didn’t mean it in a bad way. you smell nice, like the scent of the sea, it’s kind of nostalgic”

“really?” heeseung looks at you, eyes widened in that adorable way. god, he looks so good. you nodded with a smile that stretched perfectly on your lips. “you should come and meet the dolphins some time”

your eyes lit up, “oh i would love to, how many do you tend to?”

before heeseung could answer, yeji stopped him by telling you both off as they’d have to pack up for lunch.

you both walked out of the diner leisurely when heeseung turned to you, “hey, do you want to continue this somewhere else? i have a nice place we can go to”

“oh” you let out, whilst scrunching your face “i'm so sorry but today’s my dad’s birthday and we usually drive out to the field. it’s our tradition”

“well then how about next time?” he asked, tilting his head.

“how about tomorrow? meet me here for breakfast?” you offered.

“tomorrow then”

rain poured teardrops in a continuous rythmn, the wind blowing harshly. a figure disrupted the pattern as heeseung went in the diner and dropped himself on the bar stool, greeting yeji. and waving at the guy in the back, who’s face always looked sour whenever he looked at heeseung.

“the bar’s closed” hyunjin, who he now knows as yeji’s brother said blatantly. heeseung shrugged at the customer that was sitting on one of the sofas and shined a sly grin at him, receiving an eye roll back.

the door opened once more and you walked in, heeseung watched as you sat down and dropped your jacket beside you.

he stood up and walked to your seat, “hey pretty, missed me yet?”

you looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows, “no?” you said, before going back to read the menu.

heeseung stared at you dumbfounded, “hey, are you okay? you said you wanted to meet up again yesterday”

“yesterday? i’ve never even met you” you scrunched your nose as heeseung stood still in confusion, his mind reeling.

in a spur, heeseung got dragged by his collar and out of the diner. the door behind him slammed shut, he turned to see yeji stared at him menacingly.

“what’s wrong? why’s she..” he trailed off.

yeji clicked her tongue, sighing, “she isn’t what you think she is” heeseung waited, breathing heavily, the humid air made it difficult to breathe.

“about a year ago, y/n got into a terrible car accident. she and her father went up North Shore to grab fruits as tradition” yeji continued, “her father broke some ribs, but she had a serious head injury”

yeji looked away and stared off into the rain “she’s suffering short-term memory loss” yeji concluded. heeseung apparently had a hard time understanding all of this, none of the information thrown at him clicking right yet.

“wait, so she can’t remember anything?”

“no you dumbass, she remembers everything up until the night before the accident”

both of them stayed silent.

“so what? she thinks everyday is the day of her dad’s birthday?”

“exactly” yeji states, “she wakes up everyday thinking it’s the same day, her father’s provided her with a special paper that he’s printed over a hundred times for her to read”

“he’s been keeping her in the dark?”

“it’s not like that. she’s been through a lot already and her father doesn’t want her to suffer anymore” yeji scolds. “so if you don’t mind, i need you to stop bothering her. find another person to bother”

“how long’s it gonna take for her to gain back her memory?” jake asks, laying on his back staring up at the night sky.

“her doctors say it may never come back” heeseung says, throwing in food for the dolphins.

“so, basically” jake starts looking down at his friend, “she’s perfect for you”

“what?”

“you’ve never been into commitment” jake shrugs, “there’s practically no attachment there”

heeseung stays silent. jake raised his eyebrows, “don’t tell me you’re falling for her”

he slapped his friend’s leg, “i’m not” he says, “it’s just evil”

“you meet her, hang out, flirt, no commitment, nobody gets hurt”

“she has brain damage, you douche”

“you sure that’s the only reason?”

once again, heeseung stays silent. he can’t lie. he knows that he felt, if anything, the tiniest bit of care for you. spending too much time awake thinking about you more than he should’ve.

“i mean, either way, i think this’ll be good for you” jake starts, his eyes scanned the stars one by one, “you haven’t really let yourself connect with a girl”

“oh so now you care?” heeseung asks, rather jokingly.

“i want the best for you, seung. you’re leaving soon for university, the choice is really yours in the end” jake says, finally sitting up and looking at his friend with sincerity.

“thanks” hee mumbled as jake stood up to get off the ship, patting him on the back while doing so.

“you should get some sleep, you’d need energy to get her back”

heeseung stared at the back of jake’s retreating figure. they’ve been friends for years now, being the closest out of the four. always being a helping hand for the other whenever any of them were in need.

“you again?” hyunjin rolled his eyes about to grab a stick.

“relax, i just want to say hi to her” heeseung says, holding a hand out in defence.

“what did yeji say?”

“that you’d kill me with an axe” heeseung trailed off. “but, hey, look i really just want to talk to her again”

“she doesn’t want guys hitting on her during breakfast” hyunjin said, plainly.

“want to bet on that? 20 bucks” apparently the world was on his favor when hyunjin decides to shake his hand.

“deal”

heeseung spots you on your usual seat, building a house out of your pancakes. he decides its better to play safe, picking up a toothpick, walking to your seat.

“it acts as a hinge” he says, smiling.

“are you from a country where you think it’s okay to stick your fingers all over someone’s food?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“uhm, no, i’m from this country” he starts and after seeing your expression, all of the lines he’d planned out got caught on his tongue, “well, have a good meal”

hyunjin cackled at his attempts and heeseung doubled the price for the next day, determined to get you to have breakfast with him again. that’s how it went on for days, heeseung kept doubling the price at his failed attempts. yeji not really helping as she scowled at him everyday while hyunjin doubled over in laughter.

one of those days, heeseung realizes he really has nothing else to loose, except for his dignity. so that is exactly what he did. heeseung started sobbing in the middle of the diner, weird looks thrown at him.

when you suddenly sat beside him and spoke in the softest voice, he almost melted right then and there. but he pushed through with the acting, still sobbing nonetheless of you trying to calm him down. finally, he got succeeded in getting you to have breakfast with him once again. under the excuse that he couldn’t read.

you both talked all throughout the day, teaching him how to pronounce certain words, reading off the menu and enunciating each syllable. he found it quite endearing that you were so patient given the ridiculous situation.

“i had a great time” you said as you both walked out of the diner.

“yeah, so did i” heeseung smiles. he was about to say something else, but stopped. figuring it was better to go one step at a time, he turned to go get in his car when you scoffed.

“seriously? thats all? you know i thought that if someone would embarrass themselves just to talk to me they would at least ask for my number” you say, turning on the engine and start to pull out of the park.

heeseung, panicked, quickly got in his car to drive after you and apologise. afraid that he would cause problems. and that is how he led himself to this moment; getting told off by your father and almost getting beaten up by your brother.

your father had told him to lose contact with you. that he was to not go to the diner anymore and leave you alone.

now if there’s anything to know about heeseung, it’s that he takes an advice and let it go out the other ear — with the exception of his own grandma, he’s terrified of her — and second, he will never give up on anything. so, he left no time for sulking as the next day he had a brand new conception.

he knew there was no way he could ever talk to you in the diner under the watchful eyes of both yeji and hyunjin. so, learning your daily schedule, heeseung decides to stop at a part of your drive and pretended as if his truck broke down.

“hey, i’m so sorry. can you give me a lift?” heeseung awkwardly smiled as you slowly stopped right in front of his car. a concerned look on your face.

“yeah, of course” you say, getting out of your car to help attach his to yours.

with that, he’s made up a variety of reasons to stop you on your way. most days interacting with you than not. he was so determined to talk to you, his excuses ranged from being kidnapped to getting beaten by who you assumed was a random man.

the plans were carefully thought of, daily. he spent much time creating up random scenarios that were severe enough for you to spare him some time and talk to him.

he really should’ve seen it coming. because one day, your car wasn’t the one approaching, rather, another car. as it came closer he realized your father and brother were sat on the front seats and he sat up from the position he took on the ground.

“once you stop pretending to look dead, come by the house”

now he’s once again stood in the lawns of your house. he expected your dad to tell him to stop meeting you or restrict him further, but all he did was just talk to him.

your dad hesitantly told him how happy you were going about your day and how it only ever happens whenever you had an interaction with him.

“i can stop you from seeing my daughter” your father pauses, “but i can’t stop her from seeing you if that’s what makes her happy”

the weight of his words flowed through the air as your voice tunes in from the garage. painting away your garage whilst singing a song you know so well.

“let me get this straight” jake says, “you’ve been trying to talk to her everyday, making up dozens of excuses, doing random things just so she would talk to you?”

“well if you word it like that, it sounds sad”

“so you’re basically trying to get her to fall in love with you, every single day”

“not always” heeseung trails off, “it’s complicated”

“sure” jake says, taking out his pack of cigarettes. “want one?”

heeseung shook his head, back in thought.

“you haven’t been smoking lately” jake ponders. “is it because of that girl?”

jake said it as a joke, fully expecting his friend to slap him or dismiss it all. but he was proved wrong when heeseung stared right at him and nodded.

“she’s been through enough, i don’t want her to have lung problems just because i can’t leave her alone”

jake whistled low at the statement.

“besides, it’s bad for your lungs, you should stop too”

“i don’t smoke as much as you did” jake retorts, putting back the blunt in the pack. figuring it was boring to smoke alone.

“i never expected you’d do things like this”

“you think i’m heartless”

“not when you used to shit your pants from a ghost story” jake laughs and so did heeseung, hitting his friend on the back. jake looked to his friend, curious.

“do you like her?”

“what do you think?”

“personally?” jake stops, “i think you’re in love with her”

a part of him wanted to deny that, he used to be afraid of commitment after all. but now the prospect of not having any commitment with you kind of scares him. he can’t have commitment with you, literally and figuratively. how could he when you can’t remember who he is everytime you wake up.

like jake said; no strings attached. except, this time he was the at the receiving end and he couldn’t do anything about it.

attempting for the last time to talk to you at the diner, heeseung knew he would fail. he thought he’d done terribly at flirting with you when you screamed a loud ‘no’.

but when you quickly grabbed your jacket and walked out, he followed suit. yeji and hyunjin alarmed as well, walking out of the diner.

the police was about to place a ticket on your car, it was overdue.

“the tags don’t expire until next year”

“it expires May of this year, maam” the police officer said.

“no! it expires may of next-“ you stop after looking at the date of a newspaper that someone was holding.

in a rush, you look around for your car and got in. driving back home confused and aggravated, you have no idea what’s happening.

in the end, you’ve spiraled into this deep hole of reality after your father, quite hesitantly, revealed everything. he told you the whole story; the car accident, what your dad has done, and — to heeseung’s surprise — what heeseung has been doing for the past few months.

sitting on the front steps of your house, flipping through the book filled with newspapers and clippings from your accident, everyone waited around you. your father ready with answers if you if you had any questions or needed any support.

what no one expected was for you to say you wanted to talk to heeseung, alone. heeseung himself was quite shocked, and scared to be faie. he thought out of anyone, you wouldn’t want to talk to him anymore. rather hesitant, your father and brother walked in the house to give you space.

the silence was unbearable, for heeseung anyway. you stared front out to the grassy field. it was a beautiful afternoon if not for the situation you were in right now.

“so, um” heeseung cleared his throat rather awkwardly.

“i’m sorry”

he waits for you to continue, but alas you never did. heeseung looks at you, his brows furrowed.

“what for?”

“you’re the only person i can never remember when i wake up” you say, stretching out your legs and observing them instead.

heeseung looked at you — or rather admired you. he can’t believe even in a situation as this, he still find it in himself to fawn over you. you looked so ethereal under the small rays of the sun.

“it’s alright” hee said, slowly smiling as he looked away from you and off to the wide land. “not like you can help it”

“how are you fine with all this?” this time, you were the one facing him, gosh how could he still keep on that god awful, handsome smile on when he’s practically been rejected multiple times?

“just because” he replies, his smile widening. heeseung feels as if he’s gone mad, absolutely batshit insane. he can’t tell why he’s smiling so brightly right now, maybe it’s because of the fact that he’s having a conversation with you again, or maybe it’s because of how cute you sounded like when you’re concerned for him.

“you’re okay with” you pause, carefully choosing the right words “trying to make me fall in love with you every single day?” you say this slowly, enunciating each syllable hoping you’d say it in a way that didn’t seem weird or self-centered.

“what if i say i am?” you were caught off guard when heeseung’s face turned to you. you hadn’t really noticed your proximity until now. his nose was barely grazing yours and you could see his eyes up close, has it always been that pretty?

you gulp. because how can you not? lee heeseung is inches away from your face and he has the most adorable expression anyone could’ve ever seen. an expression no one’s ever seen except for you. his pupils dilated, hair messy from the wind, cheeks a rosy color and a small grin to top it all off.

“why?”

“want me to show you why?” he says. your heart pounded too loud and out of the sheer fear of him being able to hear it, you looked away. heeseung chuckled and blinked, his eyes wandering back to the field.

“i have to get back” heeseung says standing up, “tell me if you ever need anything” you finally dared yourself to look up at him. it didn’t matter anyway as heeseung walked off and got into his car. flashing that smile of his once more before pulling out of the driveway.

you went in your house after watching his car get further and further, lost in your own thought. when you walk up to your room, a small box covered with wrapping paper is placed on top of your bed.

opening it carefully, you opened the box to see a disc titled “to y/n”. out of curiosity, you ran down to the living room’s television and insert it into the dvd player.

sitting down on the sofa, you waited as the video started to play. the tunes of your favorite song hummed in as heeseung came into view.

“hi, heeseung here” he starts saying, the camera pans to two people in the background that was making heart poses and kissy faces. “yo guys stop”

the guys in the back laughed silently and the camera focused back on heeseung, his smile back on display.

“if you’re watching this, y/n. i want to tell you a bit of a background story first” heeseung stops, and grabs something from below “you got into a car accident about a year ago”

the camera focused on the newspaper clipping of her accident, “and now you can’t remember me, even if i try to talk to you everyday”

the person behind the camera snorted and heeseung threw a dirty look to whoever.

“but it’s okay, because now i’ll show you what’s been happening so you can watch this everyday” hee stands up from the sofa and sits down on his living room chair. the camera zooms out and across him sat one of his friends, you assumed. “this is sunghoon, he’s going to act as you”

the guy named sunghoon waved at the camera, smiling politely. the recording continued on for minutes as heeseung acts out the encounters he’s had with you. sunghoon and his other friend, jay, making faces every once in a while to piss off their friend. your laughs and giggles reverberated through the house walls that has your dad coming in to check on you.

as he watches you from the doorway, listening to your laughs and seeing your big smile, he can’t help but have one of his own. ever since the accident, he really has felt emptiness all over. guilt and so much more emotions plaguing him by day. all he wants is just to watch you be happy all the time and if that’s what heeseung makes you, he couldn’t stop you.

the past few months after that were filled with heeseung getting closer and closer to you as more recordings of you and him were added to the tape.

heeseung told you everything about his life, what and why he works as what he does and how he ended up in hawaii.

in turn, you told him more about the years you’ve had without him and telling him about your late mom. you told him about how she still brings you comfort until today from picking up all the tiny quirks she used to do.

eventually, heeseung grew on you. watching the tape daily and seeing how well he treats you, you really can’t help but fall more and more in love with him.

“no, i love tulips, but i love dandelions as well” you say at the pouting guy in front of you. “these are beautiful, hee”

“you know if you want me to get you another one, i can do it right now” he says, ready to make a run for the shop if you say the word.

“i told you” you took another whiff of the dandelions in exaggeration, “i love dandelions, they’re really pretty”

“okay” he sighs, and the moment you yawn for the nth time of the day, heeseung had you nursed back to bed.

“i’m fine”

“yeah, sure” he says, dismissing your words and grabbing a blanket to cover you. “get some rest, i’ll wake you up this time. i swear”

you squint your eyes at him in warning, “i will!” he says in faux sincerity, letting out a small laugh.

“fine”

heeseung gets up and walks out the door the moment you stopped mumbling. he went down to be greeted by your doctor along with your father and brother in the living room.

they all talked about your health and well-being. and if there was any way your memory would ever be healed — mostly heeseung asked about this. and as much as he hoped, there was close to no chance you would. your head injury was so severe it permanently damaged those parts of your brain.

“are you planning to continue all of this?” your father suddenly asked him, “you have no plans for the future?”

“i’m going to university soon, abroad” heeseung starts. “to continue work as a biologist in alaska”

“ah, well, it’s great you have plans” the doctor replies, patting his back, “i thought you were going to devote your whole life to helping her regain her memories”

heeseung wasn’t the only one silent at this. you were too, although a room away. you couldn’t sleep for long and was about to walk outside when you overheard their conversation about you and didn’t want to make it awkward.

but now, you just realized how dumb you were. you realized how you were basically holding him back from everything. you were being selfish of his time. you blindly liked all of the time he’s spent with you, but you didn’t realize that he too should have a life outside of you.

walking back into your room, you pull out your journal that held all the memories you’ve had with him. you’ve written all of it down. most pages dedicated to him.

“hey” you say walking up to him the next day, as he was feeding the dolphins. journal clutched tightly in one hand.

“hi” heeseung said, pure affection on his voice. you sat down beside him on the docks as he went back to throwing in the food. “i just realized i haven’t introduced you to them. this one’s named lorry”

heeseung says patting the head of the closest dolphin. you closed off your heart, preparing yourself for the worse today. set on one goal. but how can he just sit there and look adorable and somehow all the things you planned to say are down the drains.

“don’t worry, lorry’s one of the nicest ones. compared to the others” heeseung assures, you slowly inched your hands forward to pat the dolphin and it felt soft. lorry snuggled its snout to your palm and dived in the water again to play with its friends.

“heeseung” you say, staring out at the sea, avoiding his eyes at all costs. he hummed, closing up the bag of food before looking at you.

“we should stop seeing each other”

heeseung blinked. once. twice. thrice. he thought people were exaggerating when they said ‘their heart dropped’, but now he understands. he could feel his heart starting to beat uncomfortably, every inch of his body conscious, his mouth felt dry.

“what?”

“i’m not going to hold you back. you can’t just make me fall in love with you everyday, thinking there would be a future for us”

“but what if there is?”

“theres no future with me, seung”

not that nickname. please. you can’t just ask him to stop talking to you and use that nickname on him. it’s not fair. you aren’t being fair. why are you being so weird right now?

“there is!” heeseung exclaims, “i’ll make sure there is. you can watch the tape everyday-“

“it won’t work, hee“

“or i’ll tell you our story-“

“you’ll get bored of it“

“i’ll remind you every morning-“

“that’s impractical“

“or i can stop by your house all the time-“

“stop”

“no, you stop.” heeseung stressed, “i have no problem waking up everyday to talk to you— or, or to remind you of our relationship. i don’t want this to end”

“seung” you sigh, “we can’t make it work and you know that” you picked up the journal beside you and showed it to him.

“i started writing in this journal ever since the day i found out about the accident. and i want to start a new chapter” you look down, “without you in it”

he stayed silent. the waves rippled under the dawning sun. hues of orange contrasted with the sea, reflecting off the colors.

“okay” heeseung says barely above a whisper. you look at him, pretending you didn’t hear him say anything. heeseung stared ahead and cleared his throat. “okay. it was nice knowing you, y/n”

he turned to you with a smile. you don’t know what kind of answer you wanted from him. maybe you half expected for him to continue screaming at you or hell even push you in the water. but for some reason, seeing his strained smile hurt you even more. you were the one who had the idea so why were you the one to slowly regret it?

“glad for you, son” heeseung looked back to see your father walking towards him, your brother following behind.

“sir” heeseung greets, he nodded at your brother. “i’m finally off your back now” he jokes.

your father smiles, “ahh well you weren’t all bad” he says patting heeseung on the back.

heeseung smiles politely. he hesitates to say something, but ultimately thought there was nothing else to loose anyway. “how’s y/n?”

your father looks at him with raised eyebrows, “she’s moved in to the clinic now, teaches people art”

“code 110, flight A30 has opened for boarding, please get in line. i repeat, code 110, flight A30 has opened for boarding, please get in line” the speaker announced.

“that’s my cue” heeseung says, taking his suitcase. “it’s been nice knowing you sir. wished we had more time to talk, you too” heeseung nods at your father and brother. he was about to turn to the gate before a hand landed on his shoulder, stopping him.

“before you go, i want you to have this. a parting gift if you will” your father hands him an ipod. your father nods one last time and walks off. leaving heeseung quite confused.

he got in the plane and the moment he sat down, he connected the wires of his earphones in and as the familiar melody whistled in his ears he knows he fucked up.

heeseung hadn’t ever gotten up and left the plane so quick, a few people shouting at him after he bumped into them but he paid no mind. he ran out the airport and called for a cab.

he was jittery the whole ride. he realized how dumb he had been this whole time. he went through all the things you said that day and he didn’t understand why he just let you leave like that. why didn’t he put up more of a fight?

the moment he got down off the cab he ran in to the hospital searching everywhere for you until he found you back in the gardens. watering some flowers and tending to them.

“y/n” heeseung pants, you turn back a bit startled and see him. heeseung slowly walks towards you, taking careful steps one by another. “do you remember me?” he whipers.

he breathes in, your sweet scent filling him up. his face an inch away from yours. he watched as you stared up at him, admiring how the glow of your eyes shifted at every minor movement.

your lips break out into a pretty smile, “how couldn’t i?” and in a spur, your lips were on his. the longing and time that has passed all fused into a moment. heeseung grabs you by your waist to deepen the kiss and giggles from both you and him elicits against each other.

as you break apart for a moment, heeseung mumbles out something that you definitely heard but want to hear him say again.

“i love you” he whispers, “and i’ll continue to for a very long time”

even memories can never erase that feeling. the feeling of being so painfully in love with someone. the feeling of loving lee heeseung.

© junislqve 2024. liking, rebloging, and commenting are appreciated.

[adrienneleclerc]

Heyy can you write an oneshot of charles dating andrea (his personal trainer) daughter and how andrea would react

Ooh YES!! Imagine the drama, I love it. I hope this is what you wanted and if I wasn’t, hope you liked it anyway!

My Trainer’s Daughter

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ferrari! Reader

Summary: Charles is dating Y/N Ferrari, the daughter of Andrea, in secret

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors.

A/N: i have loved getting requests from everyone, feel free to request any more ideas. And yes, the title is unoriginal, I know, I couldn’t think of anything.

The day Charles met Y/N Ferrari was a day he would never forget. It was when he was doing his winter training for the 2023 F1 season. He was supposed to meet Andrea at the training camp so he was surprised when he saw a woman he has never seen before on the treadmill.

“Excuse me, did you know you are trespassing?” Charles asked, Y/N stopped her treadmill and took off her headphones.

“Che cosa?” Y/N asked

“Stai sconfinando, vattene prima che chiami la sicurezza.” Charles threatened in Italian. The woman rolled her eyes and when Charles was about to say something, Andrea appeared.

“Ah Charles, i see you have met my daughter, Y/N.” Andrea said, gesturing at Y/N who smiled like she has won.

“I didn’t know you had a daughter. What is she doing here?” Charles asked.

“She was in Italy, I haven’t seen her since she moved out so I invited her. I hope you don’t mind.” Andrea said.

“But I’m supposed to film some shots for my blog.” Charles said.

“Calmati, bambola, i promise not to get in the way. You could always crop me out if that’s what you want.” Y/N said.

“Oh so you do speak English.” Charles said.

“Yeah I do,” Y/N said.

“Okay, let’s focus on your training, Charles. You’re doing great, cuore, ti amo.” Andrea said.

“Ti amo anch’io papà.” Y/N said, before she put on her headphones and continued to run on the treadmill.

Charles was staring at the woman, she was as fiery as she was beautiful. There were moments where he had to stop himself from staring too much because he was positive that Andrea would kill him. Y/N didn’t fall far behind, she was also staring at Charles during certain exercises, who wouldn’t stare at the beautiful monegasque? Both finished their exercises after 2 hours (I’m assuming)

“Great work, Charles. Y/N, you want to go grab food?” Andrea asked.

“Sure, papà, let me just pack my things. They have a shower her?” Y/N asked.

“Yes. Charles, show her please, I have to change and get my wallet from my room.” Andrea left the hotel gym which just leaves Charles and Y/N.

“Sorry about threatening you. It’s just this gym was booked for my session so when I saw you here, I thought you were a fan.” Charles explained.

“A fan on the treadmill? Why the hell would a fan be on the treadmill if they so desperately wanted to meet you?” Y/N asked.

“I Don’t know, to appear normal. Anyway, I’m sorry, I had no idea Andrea was your father.” Charles said.

“Don’t worry about it, bambola.” Y/N said.

“Why do you call me bambola?” Charles asked.

“Because you have a pretty face like a doll, hence the name bambola. These are the showers?” Y/N asked, pointing to the door.

“Yep, these are the showers.” Charles said,

“Alright, thank you, I’ll see you around Charles.” Y/N said, before entering the shower room.

“See you around, Y/N.” Charles said.

From that moment on, every time Charles had a training session with Andrea, Y/N would always be there. There were moments where Y/N and Charles would hang out alone and one of those hang outs led to a very important question.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Charles asked as Y/N was eating her pasta. She finished chewing and swallowed.

“I’m sorry, can you repeat that?” Y/N asked.

“Would you like to go on a date with me? A proper date.” Charles clarified.

“Oh bambola, my dad would kill you. His top client going out with his daughter? Can you imagine the drama that would ensue?” Y/N asked.

“Which is why it will be a secret.” Charles said.

“A secret? Oh yeah, because that always turns out so well,” Y/N commented sarcastically.

“Think about it, we can go out on a few date, if it doesn’t work out, we never have to tell Andrea.” Charles said.

“Okay, I can live with that, my dad would never have to know.” Y/N said.

“What do you mean he would never have to know? Are you saying you’re positive this won’t work out?” Charles asked.

“You literally said the same thing!” Y/N exclaimed.

“I was convincing you to go out with me!” Charles exclaimed back.

“Fine, we’ll go out. Tomorrow night sound alright for you?” Y/N asked.

“Yes it does.” Charles said.

Well that first date turned out to be such a success that they have actually been dating for 4 months which means it was time to tell Andrea. They were in the gym, Andrea was sitting down, scrolling on his phone.

“Good morning, Andrea, are you ready?” Charles asked.

“I am but i have one question.” Andrea stated. Charles nodded for him to continue. “Why the hell were you on a yacht with my daughter?” Andrea asked and shoved the phone in Charles’s face. “Care to explain?”

“That’s what we are here to tell you. Charles and I have been dating for 4 months.” Y/N said.

“Four months?!? And you’re telling me now?!?” Andrea exclaimed.

“I wanted to know if we would work first, he’s not really my type.” Y/N said.

“Excuse me, I’m not your type?” Charles asked offendedly.

“I’m trying to make him feel better, chill out bambola.” Y/N said turning to face Charles. She then faces her dad. “But charles has been a perfect gentleman. He holds the door open for me, he carries my bags when we go shopping, picks me up with flowers when we go on dates, he’s a great guy, papà.” Y/N said. Andrea stands up and goes over to Charles.

“If you hurt my little girl..” Andrea started

“I won’t, sir, I swear, I would rather quit Ferrari than hurt Y/N.” Charles said.

“Good answer. Now let’s get to training.” Andrea said

The moment Andrea found out they were dating, it was hilarious. Charles’s training sessions became more difficult.

“Can’t have my princess dating a weak man, now can i?” Andrea says and Y/N just watches as her father tortures her boyfriend. After Charles’s workout, Y/N goes to him.

“How you feeling, bambola?” Y/N asked him, rubbing his back.

“I’m fine, ma belle, your father is right, if I’m going to be your boyfriend and protect you, i can’t be weak.” Charles said,

“Ha ha, get up so we can get some food.” Y/N said,

When they travelled together, Andrea would give them a curfew, not just because of the race events Charles had, but because he’s such a protective dad.

“I want you two back here by midnight.” Andrea said.

“Yes papà.” Y/N said,

“Yes sir.” Charles said before the two left the hotel to go somewhere. “Your dad took us dating way better that I thought.”

“Tell me about it. I guess it comes with you two knowing each other for a long time since you started F1.” Y/N said.

“You’re right. So Mon ange, am I your type now?” Charles asked and Y/N laughed.

“My god, bambola, let that go already.” Y/N said, charles laughed with her until she placed her hands on the back of his neck. “You have always been my type, I like boy with brown fluffy hair and blue green eyes.”

“And I like girls with (your color) hair and (your color) eyes.” Charles said before they kissed. “Can’t believe I’m dating my trainer’s daughter.”

“And I can’t believe I’m dating an F1 driver. I am wishing you luck on tomorrow’s qualifying session.” Y/N said,

“As long as your there, my good luck charm, I’m sure quali will go well.” Charles said, they kissed again before walking to a little bar near the hotel.

The End

Hope y’all liked it. I thought it turned out well

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

Y'all wanna see Miguel be the dominant lover.

I wanna see Miguel being that dude's that's slightly afraid of his wife.

He's teasing her jokingly and she starts yelling at him in Spanish. And he's like 'It was a JOKE- dios mío A JOKE' meanwhile this 4'11 woman is yelling and waving her finger in his face (lovingly of course)

Jess asks if he's coming to eat lunch, and he tells her 'no', that he has work to do.

Cue his wife storming into his office, yelling his name, and shoving a plate of arroz con pollo at him and demanding they eat together. And of course he wouldn't dream of telling her no.

So he sits there while she's like 'Make sure you finish. You always eat dinner late. You need to finish so you won't be hungry. I don't know how you always want to train and workout but you don't want to stop and EAT. You hear me?? Are you listening-'

And he's just happily listening to her nagging while he eats and fights back a smile.

-- Imma give him a wife who looks makes him look relatively calm and sarcastic meanwhile she's a busy-body constantly checking on him and everything in the Society so it doesn't fall apart.

-- Miguel being afraid to even COUGH around her cause god help him, if she thinks he's sick she'll forcefully BABY him to death.

Like tucking him into bed ridiculously tight with a rag on his head and soup on the stove and if he even thinks about getting up he gets scolded for 'stressing out his body'

-- A wife that when Miguel brings up the idea of having kids she's like 'Of course! I want six... What's wrong, why do you look like you've seen a ghost? It's six not enough for you?'

Meanwhile Miguel is trying not to faint at the idea of SIX WHOLE KIDS to look after. (The end up with eight in the end)

-- And she has weekly brunches with MJ where they talk about how much of a mess their loving husbands are

-- When they train together she takes it SO serious. She's the worlds toughest trainer ever. Yelling at him in Spanish 'Is that all you got! Christ, I know you can do more than that!! We're running 6 miles together on the treadmill next. DRINK SOME WATER!!!'

And then after she's like 'You did great, babe 😊 My strong man, love you 🧡🧡🧡.'

Meanwhile he's panting for dear life

Like DO YOU SEE THE DYNAMIC I'M GOING FOR not the 'i hate my wife' kinda vibe, the 'my wife is gonna fucking kill me if I stay up until three again' kinda vibe.

I'm gonna give him the most firey fierce wife ever. That's him and Inca-Spider Moche. When they argue she stands on his desk cause she's not gonna having him looking down at her. She's like 'You think you wouldn't eat lunch cause the breakfast I cooked was too big? Say that to my face!!' *climbs up on the nearest chair*

A calm sarcastic giant and his 4'11 wife that will rain hellfire if he works late cause he needs his sleep and she'll be DAMNED if he doesn't get it

[1d1195]

Honey VII

Read Honey here | ~6.2k words

From me: I just want Harry to be jealous literally all the time. I'm sorry that's so toxic. I know Cece has aged like two months in a very short frame. But we're gonna slow time down a little. Only a few days are passing (if any) right now.

Warnings: angst - some more Miss Honey trauma, pining (both parties), fluff and some MORE angst

Summary: “Say bye, bye Daddy,” she whispered to her and kissed the top of her head. “Say bye, bye,” she repeated. Cece just giggled making her heart fill to the brim with love.

“Bye Miss Honey,” he hummed and hung up. “Well, Cece,” she turned the little one toward her and held her out in front of her before bringing her close. “I don’t know about you, but I think Daddy needs a pick-me-up."

It was incredibly awkward for the next three days.

The weather was still crummy. The power continued to go out at random intervals. Harry had been working nonstop, coming home to see his baby before she went to bed but then getting right back to work in his home office. His goal was to make it so that when he took his leave, he wouldn’t have to do anything extra outside of the days he was going to go in. He decided he would have to go to work two days a week. Which days were best was still something he was figuring out.

Regardless, Miss Honey was leaving for the first two weeks of his leave, in which he would have uninterrupted Cece time. While that was grand, he was already dreading the days without her around as well.

He hoped the days he was home with her and Miss Cece were the days he was going to make her fall in love. Make him trust her. Make her believe that he loved her for her and not what she did.

How the fuck was he going to do that?

The awkwardness was most palpable when he got home from work. Mostly because she didn’t change a single thing about her routine. Dinner smelled delicious. The house was always clean, his laundry was folded. He found Cece and her giggling on the floor as they played with her toys.

All he wanted to do was kiss her and thank her for doing those things and being herself.

Then he wanted to strip her in the middle of the kitchen and enjoy her body like it was a meal she prepared especially for him.

But instead, he gave her space. He didn’t beg her to sit around and watch TV with him. She went to the basement and ran on the treadmill. When the pipes whined from her shower, Harry wondered if it was normal for him to be jealous of a shampoo bottle that got to see her naked form. Instead, he thanked her for dinner and asked how her day was. He tried not to think about how pretty she looked coming on his couch and how her smile made him feel like he had won a trophy.

They didn’t talk about their night together.

Even though it was just about the only thing he thought about when he was alone and not actively worrying about Cece. It was definitely the only thing he had been dreaming about.

Hopefully, when he took his leave, and she returned from her trip he could convince her that this wasn’t some one-off. This was something he was very serious about.

*

Having sex with Harry was simultaneously the most wonderful thing she had ever experienced and also the dumbest thing she had ever done.

Whoever settled down with him was a lucky lady. She already envied the blissful feeling that woman would experience probably on the daily. It made his heart skip a beat. She was an idiot, fucking her boss. Who did that?

When she woke up holding the little baby that she loved wrapped in the arms of a man who made her feel... good and cared for... All the thoughts of her first nanny family came rushing back. It terrified her and made her spiral. This was almost worse in some ways. At least last time she wasn’t painfully aware of how attractive her boss was.

Harry was right, she didn’t talk to her best friend very often. But Eliza was a busy woman, and this was an idiotic thing to do. It seemed silly to bother her when she didn’t even know what she was doing. But she texted her anyway. It was probably a phone call worthy conversation, but she wasn’t sure she could have it without giving up part way through.

I slept with Harry🤦‍♀️

OBSESSED WITH JUMPING RIGHT TO THE GOOD PART.

NICE 😍

Eliza. Seriously.

Was it good?

Oh who am I kidding, I’ve seen pics of him of course it was good. Wow I’m getting tingly for you.

E L I Z A

I’m just want to make sure I understand. He’s hot as fuck, babe. Good for you.

No. Not good. That was stupid. I just complicated my career.

Did you force him?

No of course not!

So what are you worried about? You OBVIOUSLY like him

...Tell me it’s not obvious please.

I mean... It’s obvious to me. But that’s only because he’s so goddamn hot

You are supposed to be helping me!

I AM helping you

Do you think he didn’t like it or something?

Oh, sweet Jesus. She hadn’t even thought of that. I think I have to end it.

What your job?

No my life 😭

Oh, for the love of God 🙄 You’re a grown woman and you slept with your boss. So has almost a third of the country has too.

Not helping.

Her phone rang with a FaceTime call. Eliza looked like she was at her house. Hopefully alone. She didn’t need her husband knowing all the details of her epic fuck up. “What do you want out of this?” She asked. Eliza was her extraverted, bold, wonderful friend. She was the one that dragged her to parties and was the dad-friend to their group. They were a team, and it was nice to have her. She got right to the point. Hence her congratulatory text. She perched the phone on the floor, resting it against the bottom of the entertainment center while Cece rolled on the floor. “Oh hello,” Eliza cooed. “Cece, you are so precious,” her face looked on with adoration a faux frown pulling her lips down.

She smiled proudly, unable to keep it in. Like Cece was hers which only made things worse. It was like her first nanny family but worse. Maybe it was because her second family didn’t have little babies, just children. She had been with Cece for extremely formative months, helping the little baby discover the world. The last time she was around a baby for these formative months, she became too attached. What if something happened down the line where she and Harry were something and then weren’t? It wasn’t like last time.

Her whole life was wrapped up in Cece and it had been hardly any time at all.

“Eliza,” she whispered, her throat catching on her name as tears overwhelmed her. “I love Cece. So much.”

“So tell Harry,” she said softly. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you on FaceTime, he adores you.”

She bit the inside of her cheek. “What if...”

“It’s not like last time,” Eliza finished already knowing where her spiral was going. She swallowed and looked away from the screen locking eyes with the sweet baby who babbled nonsense and giggled about her feet. “Babe?” She asked. “It’s not like last time. You know that, right? Harry appreciates your opinion. He wants you there. He is kind and thankful to have you. He wants you there. But he wants to be there too.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“He would let you love her completely.”

“If her mom was alive,” she whispered.

“Then you wouldn’t have met him, okay? Don’t... don’t do that. This is different. This is something good that you deserve. You love Cece. You love Harry. And quite frankly? You were going to love whatever baby was lucky enough to have you in their life so it may as well be Harry. I get why you got so worked up over Tucker,” she said. She flinched hearing his name. Her sweet little friend. “This is different. You’re lucky, of course. Harry adores you. You could have this. It wouldn’t be selfish. He’s nothing like Cody thank fuck.”

She smirked and watched Cece she rolled onto her tummy and then pushed herself towards her. “Cece!” She shrieked.

“What?!” Eliza asked, alarm falling over her face.

“She crawled!” She gasped. “Oh, my goodness, Eliza, I have to call Harry, I’m sorry!”

She didn’t even say goodbye before she hung up and called Harry. She never called him so she should have realized he probably would have answered immediately—worry etched on his perfect features. “Hi, love is every—”

“C’mere Cece! Show Daddy what you just did!” She cooed and held the phone out at Cece’s eye level turning so it was in a selfie position pointed at her. Cece scooted toward her (and Harry) again and her hand went to her throat.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” Harry praised. “Look at you, baby,” his voice was so soft and happy. “No solid food, but you’re going t’crawl, hmm? Jus’ determined t’make me sad with y’growing up,” his voice was a little forlorn. But he was happy and proud. She was glad she couldn’t see him, she would probably cry. She wiped the corner of her eye, as it was. Cece giggled rolling onto her back as she got close to the phone.  Harry chuckled. “Thank you, love. That was really nice t’see,” she turned the phone back to her. When she answered she didn’t see Harry’s face. He was in his office, the sunlight hitting his face and hair so perfectly. His dimple and smile made her melt. The adoration was plain on his face. “M’not having a very good day,” he admitted. “I was nervous t’see y’calling. But that was... that was really nice.”

She grinned shyly. “Of course. I wanted you to see it.”

“Thank you,” he repeated. “I think m’going t’be late,” his beautiful smile turned into an exhausted, frustrated frown. “Y’don’t have t’leave any food out or anything,” he said. “I’ll order something here later,” he assured her.

But she knew he would forget. Because she texted Niall to make sure he ate lunch or dinner or whatever you called the half-assed meal he sometimes ate between lunch and dinner time. Most days Niall said he didn’t. “If you’re sure,” she said quietly. “I don’t mind.”

“I know, kitten,” he had been using kitten now that he had made her come three times in one night. It made her heart flutter. Made her feel flushed and happy. “Thank you,” he hummed. “If...if you go t’bed before I get home, I hope y’have a nice night and sleep well.” Her heart felt achy knowing he was having a bad day. “Can y’show me Cece again? I want t’say goodnight t’her,” he smiled, unaffected by his bad day with the thought of his sweet girl. She scooped up the little babe into her arms who was crawling into her lap at that point without her even noticing in because she was so focused on Harry’s worry.

“Good night, my love,” he smiled. “I love you so, so much. Be good for Miss Honey,” he winked and waved at her.

“Say bye, bye Daddy,” she whispered to her and kissed the top of her head. “Say bye, bye,” she repeated. Cece just giggled making her heart fill to the brim with love.

“Bye Miss Honey,” he hummed and hung up.

“Well, Cece,” she turned the little one toward her and held her out in front of her before bringing her close. “I don’t know about you, but I think Daddy needs a pick-me-up,” she stood from the floor and headed for Cece’s room to get her belongings and change her before she attempted to make Harry’s day better.

*

Niall invited himself into Harry’s office while he was eating lunch. His sticky note with his name and a heart in her handwriting was pressed on the collar of his shirt like a badge of honor. “Hey,” he smiled. Harry’s eyes narrowed at the thoughtfulness of her sending lunch to Niall. He hated that they chatted. Hated that she laughed at his text messages.

Because Harry was jealous. Extremely, completely jealous and felt it was unfair she could talk so breezily with Niall and walked on eggshells around him. “She doesn’t like me,” Harry grumbled and continued looking through the documents on his desk and all the meetings and schedules.

“I doubt that’s true.”

“Oh?” Harry raised his eyebrows. “You and your new best friend talk ‘bout me?” Curiosity was in his voice but so was his unwavering envy.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” Niall grinned. “Are you jealous of her or me?” He asked. Harry kept his eyes on his work again. “Don’t worry Harry, I’ll always be your best friend.”

“If you caught on fire, I wouldn’t help,” he grumbled.

Niall put a hand over his heart. “So sweet,” he smiled. “Why do you think she doesn’t like you?”

Harry sighed and ran a hand over his face and glanced at his open door behind him. Niall shut it with a kick of his foot and then sat in the chair across from Harry. Then Harry began pacing. Running a hand through his hair as he explained all the sweet things she did and the power outage (he mentioned but glossed over the things he did to her body). Niall didn’t even flinch. Unsurprised and simply kept eating his meal. When Harry finished rambling, he smiled, delight in his eyes. Then his expression softened at his friend. Because the teasing, while hilarious, wasn’t so funny at the moment. Harry didn’t just like her. He didn’t just enjoy her personality or even her body.

“You love her.”

Harry dropped to his own chair and laid his head on his desk ignoring what Niall said. He couldn’t love her already. Right? But maybe Niall, with an outside view, knew more than he did. “Niall, she’s gorgeous, funny, sweet, and she’s probably the smartest person I know,” he swallowed. “How can she think I only like her for the stuff she does?” he asked.

“Maybe because that’s all anyone has loved her for in her mind?” Harry frowned knowing that he was probably right about that too. She said just as much. “Do you love her for only the stuff she does?”

“Of course not!” Harry grumbled. He frowned and ignored the fact that Niall said love again. “S’kind she cares so much. She doesn’t want t’be noticed; s’not t’say she’s helpful. She just is. But it’s the only thing I notice. Maybe people only loved her in the past because of the things she did but I love why she does it,” he didn’t even pause to think about the L-word. “She jus’ genuinely loves the people in her life. S’probably her love language or something,” he shrugged.

Harry and Niall talked about a lot of stuff together. They discussed their business, golfing techniques, music, new restaurants, girls, and sex. They gushed about their families and even video games.

Talking about how he felt about someone so lovely was new to Harry. He had been in love before—or so he thought. This was different. She was different. Niall could see it. It wasn’t anything in particular. It was just her.

Harry swallowed. “She probably thinks she’s convenient,” he murmured.

“I mean...” Niall shrugged. “She is, isn’t she?”

Harry scowled. “Whose side are y’on? You’re supposed t’be my friend.”

Niall shrugged with a smirk. “I am. It’s just... you’re thinking about how you feel. Not the way she feels.”

“She’s not convenient,” he repeated.

“Harry, she is your nanny, and she does... everything,”

Harry frowned. “Did she say something t’you?” Harry was going to unceremoniously gouge a paperclip in his eye if he made her feel less than.

“I had no idea you had sex with her, if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t wait to Lord that over her for another three months’ worth of lunches.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I know I’m stuck with you. Why is she friends with you?”

“Oh, we just bond about how much we love you, Harry,” he winked.

Harry’s phone beeped with his secretary at the other end before he could respond to his friend. “Mr. Styles, are you in a meeting?” He asked.

Harry liked Stephen well enough. He was well aware of the procedure for his daughter and Miss Honey. He was organized, punctual, and good at his job. He liked to golf like Niall and enjoyed chatting with Harry about music. He fit in well and it seemed like a great addition to his office. Especially after it took several weeks of temp people to find the right fit after he fired the incompetent woman he had before.

“No, Stephen. Jus’ talking with Niall. S’matter?” Harry gathered the papers he was reading in his hands prepared to pause his conversation with Niall, regardless, so he could get home at a semi-reasonable hour. Which was already going to be hours later than he wanted.

“Please don’t fire me, Mr. Styles, but your nanny is really gorgeous. And she’s here, asking to see you,” Stephen had a smile in his voice.

“Oh man, poor kid is toast,” Niall chuckled as Harry wrinkled the papers in his hand.

“She said your door was closed and didn’t want to disturb you, so she let me know. She’s in the break room with your daughter... is she single? Holy shit, I swear I’m blushing.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Harry growled. “Can’t have a woman because she’s jealous of her, can’t have a man because he’s obsessed with her,” he rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath before he did something insane like smashed the button on the phone to answer Stephen. “Please refrain from drooling over her, Stephen,” Harry’s voice was clipped. Niall snickered. He put the lid on his Tupperware and left it on Harry’s desk for him to take home so that it could be refilled with her next yummy creation. He watched the agony on Harry’s face as he listened to Stephen talk about the girl he adored so much.

“I’m trying not to, but holy shit,” Harry knew all the inappropriate thoughts he was thinking because he thought them himself. “Watching her with the baby?” he sighed dreamily. “I think I’m ready to start a family.”

Harry yanked the phone cord out of his phone so hard, he was lucky plaster didn’t come with it. He shoved his chair back with so much force as he stood it tipped over and without caring he strode out of his office. All while Niall cackled behind him. “You.” He pointed at Stephen angrily as he approached the main desk on the floor. “Don’t even fucking look at her,” he strode past to the breakroom. Stephen stared at him wide-eyed and confused while Niall laughed behind him.

“So she is taken?” Stephen asked.

Harry turned to glare at him, but Niall leaned down on his desk. He mumbled something, quietly to Stephen, his eyes nearly laughing as hard as he did in the other room. Niall waved him off toward the breakroom again and Harry turned toward it but bumped into someone as he spun back around sharply.

“Oh!” She wasn’t prepared for Harry to be so solid (even if she knew he was) or for him to be right there as she approached him hearing Niall’s loud laughter before she saw either of them. Nor was she prepared for him to be mid-stride with the momentum of him turning and walking sent her already unbalanced body while holding Cece knocked her entirely off kilter. Which landed her right back onto the floor.

“Jesus Christ,” Harry grabbed his crying daughter immediately even though she was perfectly fine, Harry watched her clutch Cece tighter to her chest as she fell, even though it meant she landed so hard on her butt and back it had to have killed. “Niall!” He snapped.

Niall didn’t have to run far but he did all the same. “Hey, darling what an entrance,” he reached for her but Harry passed him Cece immediately before his hands met hers. Niall didn’t pay any mind to the change in which of Harry’s girls he held but he smirked thinking about how Miss Honey was one of his girls anyway. “Oh, I know, Miss Cecelia,” he cooed and kissed her temple. “That was a big fall, hmm?”

“Are y’okay?” Harry asked, crouching and grabbing her hands to help her sit up. “M’so sorry, love,” he cupped the side of her face. “Are y—”

“Is she okay?” She asked brushing Harry’s hand away gently. Her eyes were watery. Maybe it was the impact of falling or the embarrassment—Harry wasn’t sure. But if she was in pain, she didn’t seem to care. Her gaze was trained on Cece, alarm all over it.

“She’s fine, love,” Harry promised, ignoring Cece’s dramatics for the moment while he looked at her. “Are y’sure you’re okay?” He repeated.

“I’m fine, just embarrassed,” she put a hand on her face and winced as she stood and turned to Niall. “Are you okay, pretty girl?” She cooed. “Did I hurt you?” She frowned.

“No, not even a little,” Harry put a hand on her lower back. “Y’hit the ground hard, love. Are y’sure you’re okay?” He repeated.

“Harry, I swear I’m fine.”

Cece reached for her tearily, trying to wiggle her way out of Niall’s grip. “Aw,” he clucked. “You just want to make sure Miss Honey’s okay, little Miss?” He asked with a wink in her direction. As soon as her arms were around his daughter, Cece nuzzled into her embrace against the front of her shoulder; her little hands gripped either side of her shirt right around her chest. It was adorable and Harry was very jealous of the attention his daughter could give her like that.

“Are you alright?” Stephen approached.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Harry’s voice was quiet as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I’m fine,” she kissed the top of Cece’s head and rocked her gently. “Just pretty embarrassed. Any chance you can erase that from your security cams?”

Stephen chuckled at her. “No one gave me a straight answer, I’m sorry to be so blunt—I know it’s poor timing since you just had a little tumble there...but I have to know. Are you single? I would love to take you on a date. You are so beautiful and—”

“Alright, Stephen,” Niall gripped his shoulders and steered him back toward his desk. “If you want to keep your job you’re never going to speak to her again,” he winked at the blushing girl over his shoulder. Harry was trying not to scream, fingers pressing to both his temples and covering his closed eyes. He was taking deep breaths to quell the angry jealousy that was boiling in his blood. How did this get so goddamn messy in such a short amount of time?

“Are you alright?” She asked.

He exhaled deeply, totally frustrated. “Am I alright? I asked y’that at least three times,” he grumbled.

“I told you I’m fine!”

He opened his eyes after rubbing his hand over his face. “What are y’doing here?”

She frowned. “Do you want us to leave?”

“God,” he wanted to slam his head into a wall. This day couldn’t be worse. “Can we get out of the fucking hallway?” He asked.

She nodded, her cheeks turning red again. The moment he entered the breakroom with an angry expression on his face, the few of his employees in the room made a swift exit. He pulled a seat out for her and watched as she winced as she sat. The table had a plethora of bags on it. A food bag, the diaper bag, the car seat, and her purse. “M’going t’ask if you’re okay, again,” he said quietly. “Please don’t lie t’me if y’feel uncomfortable.”

She smiled and nosed at the top of Cece’s hair where she was still snuggling. “I feel a little awkward telling you my butt is definitely going to be bruised.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes. But at least she told the truth. “Are y’okay?”

“Other than a little embarrassed and a little bruised, I’ll be okay.”

“Good,” he sighed and ran a hand on the back of Cece’s head. “Hi baby girl,” he cooed, smiling for the first time in what felt like hours.

“Who’s that?” She asked. “Is that Daddy?” She giggled. “Do you want to give Daddy some of these snuggles? He’s having a bad day and needs one, I think,” she whispered and turned Cece toward him. She went willingly—excitedly, snuggling just as easily into his embrace. It felt like a warm glow settled over him. All the frustration he felt dissipated, and happiness started to bubble through him.

“That’s better,” he mumbled and kissed the top of her head. The only way it would be perfect was if he could hold her as well.

She smiled. “I brought you dinner,” she reached for one of the bags.

“Just Harry?” Niall asked from the doorway.

“Get. Out.” He growled.

Niall snickered closing the door behind him, which made her laugh as well. Harry rubbed his hand up and down her tiny little body while she set the food up—she even cut up Harry’s food into bite sized pieces so he could continue to snuggle his sweet daughter while he ate with one hand. She munched on whatever she purchased as well. “This is good,” he mumbled. “Where’s it from?”

“There’s a restaurant down the road. I stopped once after one of our visits,” she explained. “I would have made something myself, but I wanted to see you sooner rather than later.”

If he was questioning his love for her before, when Niall had asked earlier...

There was no question now.

He loved her with every breath. Every atom of his body.

He loved her.

So.

Very.

Much.

*

Day four and five post power outage came and went without much fanfare. Harry worked late. She brought Cece to the library and made sure she was entertained, learning, and growing. When Harry got home late, he said goodnight to an already sleeping Cece in her crib before he returned to the kitchen where the woman of his dreams was setting a plate of food out for him.

They didn’t speak much those two days, but he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t leave the kitchen while he ate. She packaged the food neatly for him and Niall the next day. She cleaned the dishes and counters. Hardly looking at Harry while he watched her. His eyes roamed over her body as she worked, desperate to see what was underneath her clothes again.

“Are you staring at me?”

“Mhmm,” he didn’t even bother hiding it. She had to know how much she meant to him.

“Harry,” she sighed, turning around and leaning against the counter. Her skin was flushed that pretty reddish pink tone that made him imagine the other three times he saw her skin change to the same color.

“Yes, love?” He smiled innocently. “Jus’ thinking ‘bout your bruise.”

Her skin turned a shade darker. “I bet.”

He took another bite of his food, smiling less than innocently. “Are y’okay?” He asked. That was serious.

“I actually don’t have a bruise. Or at least surface wise,” she explained. “The bone is still sore,” she admitted.

“I could rub it for you,” he offered. She turned back around without letting him see what shade of red she was turning. She braced her hands on the counter and tilted her head up to the ceiling.

He smirked.

But that was nothing compared to breakfast. Harry came directly to the kitchen in nothing but his towel making her put a hand on her throat. She put Cece in her highchair and turned to the fridge. Was she cooling herself off in there? Harry wished he could find out.

This had to qualify as sexual harassment in the workplace. It was her workplace after all.It wasn’t that Harry didn’t care if it was harassment, of course he wanted her to be comfortable. But she was comfortable. Wasn’t she? He didn’t imagine that chemistry between them. There was no way he imagined it!

Her tank top looked so pretty showing off so much of her soft cleavage that he just wanted to bury his face against her body. There was so much more than just her taking care of Cece or taking care of him. He wanted her to crumble. Only because he wanted her to crumble right into his arms. He would give her everything she wanted. Whenever she wanted it. They could make another baby right then. Right at the kitchen counter (or maybe after she put Cece down for a morning nap).

Harry stood and moved beside her next to the fridge. “Harry,” she whispered. “Please...”

“Please what, kitten?”

Her cheeks burned bright red and she looked away holding yogurt in her hands for Cece to try next.

“Do I make y’uncomfortable? Because I’ll stop,” he promised.

Ever so slightly, she shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “You’re just... making it really difficult not to flirt with you.”

Harry chuckled his mouth close to her earlobe. He inhaled along her hairline aching for her pretty smell. “Y’can flirt with me any time y’want, love,” he assured her. He pressed a hand on her arm, squeezing just above her elbow. It was the least erotic place but it made her heart skip a beat and the heat between her thighs spread throughout her body. Her eyes fluttered close, and Harry moved back to Cece leaving her cold and ridiculously turned on and he didn’t even do anything other than exist.

She was so. Goddamn. Screwed.

*

Harry’s stupid, insanely hot body was the only thing she could think about while the rain poured outside. More of the storms that lined their region wreaked havoc over the last couple of days. Which meant she was stuck inside with no escape from all that smelled like Harry, reminded her of Harry, and screamed of how much she wanted to kiss Harry until she died from breathlessness.

Sitting on the sofa where he made her come was a poor choice. She put her book over her face briefly before she sighed, unable to read any of the words that were in front of her because all of the letters on the page seemed to turn into the same five letters over and over. Just her brain screaming for the beautiful man that was kind, sweet, utterly adorable with his daughter.

And also, really good at making her come.

Cece had just fallen asleep in her swing for her afternoon nap. The soothing back and forth motion made it easy for her to drift along with the sound of the rain against the house. She had a book in her lap and was listening to the quiet instrumental playlist she had playing to keep Cece asleep. A cup of coffee was right beside her and other than her heart freaking out that she had slept with her boss and now it was really awkward, it was really peaceful.

For half an hour.

The power went out again. Fortunately, it was a little lighter out than it was during the storm where she let Harry pleasure her. Despite the swing turning off from lack of electricity, she noted Cece hadn’t stirred an inch. Frowning, she grabbed her phone to let Harry know.

There was no service. The storm must have knocked out the cell towers as well. Or maybe someone hit the pole outside Harry’s quiet neighborhood. Or maybe still, a repairman had knocked it out again trying to fix something to prevent further damage.

But when she peered out the drawn curtains, she immediately realized that the streetlight at the end of the driveway was still on. “Huh,” she hummed trying to piece it together.

Of course she wasn’t a mother. But having children around in her life and taking care of them for so many years, she felt she had developed some kind of mother’s intuition that someone else wouldn’t have if they didn’t have her job. She didn’t want to see it, but she swore she saw something move. Someone. Something like a shadow but worse, and it moved along the side of the house just out of sight.

No. No more crime dramas before bed. She thought to herself.

No one would come here to harm them—to harm Harry or Cece, right? They were just ordinary people.

Right?

More than ever, she was grateful for the soundly sleeping baby—she prayed the six-month regression she was going through wouldn’t make its appearance known. She hurried to the living room, scooping her out of her swing. She grabbed her favorite stuffy too. She took the stairs two at a time, careful to refrain from jostling Cece and waking her. She brought her to Harry’s bedroom. She refused to go in there after... She shook her head at that thought. That blissful, perfect thought. Harry was going to be home in no more than a couple hours, but it didn’t make this any easier.

“Okay Cece, you need to dream for a while,” she whispered. “I love you so, so much, okay?” She placed her in the middle of Harry’s closet floor, found a notebook on his nightstand. She tore a blank page from the back and scribbled a note on it hoping Harry would understand she was doing what she needed to do. She left the note in the closet as well. “Just sleep,” she whispered and kissed her soft little forehead.

Silently, she prayed for Chloe knowing she would be around. Quietly begging her to keep Cece safe while she dealt with the sound of a window smashing on the floor below.

She hurried downstairs with a pounding heart. Two men were climbing their way through the window. “What are you doing!?” She shrieked.

One held a gun up at her. Her hands went up instinctively. “Who are you?”

“I-I’m the nanny. What are you d-doing?” She repeated her heart in her throat interrupted her normal speech.

“Where’s the baby?” The other one snarled.

She shook her head. Terror pulling at her in every direction.

No, she’s just a baby. They can’t want her. “She’s not here,” she croaked praying her lie wasn’t obvious. She would throw herself in front of them, by all means, but she wasn’t dumb. They were a lot stronger than her. They couldn’t get past her. “She’s... she’s with her aunt,” she prayed that Harry wouldn’t hate her again. She would do anything to protect Cece. Harry already lost too much and if he lost his baby girl…

She shook her head at that thought, willing it out of existence. Harry’s worst fear was leaving Cece alone and she had just left her in a closet. Even if it were for the greater good of her safety it killed a piece of her to do that. Worry strung her mind wondering if there was another, better option. Leaving her alone without a bottle? What if she was there for hours? How long would she sit in her diaper? What if she cried so hard she dehydrated herself? God, how was anyone supposed to make this kind of decision?

“Jesus Christ, you said she was here!”

The man without the gun looked nervous. Clearly, he wasn’t the one in charge, but he had been right. She was there. Hiding in the dark. She prayed that she didn’t wake or make a peep. She just needed them to get out of the house.

They almost ignored her while they talked through a plan, the gun never straying from her vision. Slowly, she made way for her phone just out of reach. The man chose that moment to remind her that they hadn’t forgot about her. He walked closer to her making her throat close around a sob. “Let’s go,” he ordered darkly.

“Go?” She whimpered. She was going to be sick. “Go where?”

The one not in charge glanced at his own phone. “We have three minutes.”

“Walk,” he ordered and shoved her toward the door.

“Wait, please let’s just talk about this—”

“There’s no time to talk. You’ve seen too much. Either I shoot a bullet through your brain right now, or you get in the car.”

“You don’t need to do this!” She was glad the tears and sobs were quieting her voice. It was anything but fake. “I won’t tell anyone—”

“Save it,” he snapped and put the gun on the back of her head. She choked out another sob. “Can you take us to the baby?”

Her heart ached something fierce. Like someone had ripped it in half. “No, I don’t know where his sister lives,” at least that was true.

“Then you’re stuck with us,” he snarled. “You better be worth a pretty penny.” Kidnapping? Kidnapping her? She was good at her job. But not that good. Harry wouldn't take out a ransom for her. Would he? No... his daughter, of course. But not her. She was just the nanny. Someone he slept with out of convenience. Harry would be glad that Cece was okay. Even if she left her alone after she told him he never would. God, her heart hurt. “We only have another minute. Kill her or don’t. We have to go.”

A fresh wave of tears filled her eyes as they walked out of the house. “Okay, okay! I’ll go.” She sobbed. She hoped they didn’t notice they were tears of relief.

--

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

@straightontilmornin @freedomfireflies @littlenatilda @kathb59 @babegoals

@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

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Honey: @jerseygirlinca @one-sweet-gubler

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[blushcoloreddreams]

Perfume IS an essencial: Here’s 4 reasons why

Good Afternoon Dear Reader! Happy Saturday directly from Argentina

Before we dive into today's topic, I wanted to talk briefly about why these "practical" and lighter and style blog posts are JUST as important as the heart-felt blogs on heavier topics and more practical ones like organization, cooking and cleaning tips

This blog is a place where I am trying to gather useful information to help us grow as feminine women, whether that is in our hearts, our homes, our lives, or even in our own skin. I believe in a well-rounded growth perspective: I am trying to improve many areas of my life, even if they are just practical and simple.

So today I wanted to talk about one of these more "practical and simple" topics: perfume.

At first glance this topic can seem kind of boring, like "yeah, no one likes smelling bad, so wear perfume, DUH." But I think perfume is so much more than that!

I believe that a spritz of perfume can actually improve your day, your confidence, and your overall aura as a feminine woman.

***DISCLAIMER: I know that smells can trigger allergic reactions in people, and there are actually fragrance-free zones such as certain churches or work environments. Do not break those rules just to follow my advice LOL!

The women jn my life were always had a passion from perfumery and I remember using it even as a child, but I only started being interested in it during my teenage years and in the past my interest and collection only grew. But I remember that during times of intense sadness in my life, I understand that something simple as even filling in your eyebrows can be a completely exhausting task! So much personal care falls off your daily routine when you can't handle what life is throwing at you and I think that adding perfume to your routine can be an easy way to elevate your grooming.

In order to really stick to this habit, I decided to focus on WHY I should wear perfume. So here we go! This may convince you too.

1. Perfume Adds LUXURY To Life

I know what some of you may be thinking: "I'm just at home, and deodorant is good enough for me!" or "I'm just in an office chair, why do I need to smell amazing?" and finally, "I'm just going to work out later so it doesn't matter!"

You know what I say to all those reasons?

You are an amazing woman and you deserve to have a little extra luxury in your day, even if you are behind a vacuum, a computer, or a treadmill.

Most of us aren't going to be lounging on a velvet chaise with champagne and a cashmere blanket wrapped around us tonight anyways! We're not living that lux life, so why not add extra luxury into our days?

When you're vacuuming the house or reading through spreadsheets, it can be easy to feel like cinderella BEFORE she went to the ball. A fragrance reminds you that you are an elegant, feminine WOMAN, and that you are WORTHY of a little luxury.

So pick up a fragrance you love, (doesn't have to be costly,) and indulge! You are WORTHY of that extra 10 seconds on yourself.

2. Perfume Can Make You HAPPIER!

So today I was spritzing on some body spray when I realized that I had a soft smile on my face. Seriously: I was just smiling to myself! Sol de Janeiro cheirosa 71 (my newest obsession! ) evokes a reaction of pleasure: it makes me smile.

Do you remember learning about the senses in school? They can evoke emotion, thoughts, feelings, and action. Touch can make you take action when you feel pain. Taste evokes pleasure when you encounter delicious food. Likewise, smell can evoke pleasant emotion or distaste.

If there was a little life hack that could have you smiling 2 more times a day than you already do, wouldn't you do it? Fragrance is SUCH simple way to accomplish this!

And a bonus? When you smell good, other people notice! I LOVE when my husband tells me I smell good, or when a friend goes in for a hug and comments that she loves the smell I'm wearing. Smelling good feels GOOD!

3. Perfume Helps You Get in Touch With FEMININITY

When I was a kid, Id watch every morning my mom and grandma get ready and wear their favorite perfumes ( that I have the smell in my memory to this day). I made a promise to myself that when I became a woman at the age of I would begin doing 3 things EVERY DAY: wearing lipstick, carrying a stylish purse, and wearing perfume.

I think I knew, even as a child, that perfume was for women. Full grown, feminine, gracious, beautiful women. Adding fragrance to your routine is a way of stepping into that feminine womanhood and embracing yourself.

Perfume can also be especially helpful for women who are kind of uncomfortable with their femininity. You can begin exploring the possibilities with just a small change. Add a bit of mystery, femininity, sweetness, or glamour to ANY outfit. Elevate your look and tip toe into femininity with a fragrance. Pair a ponytail and sneakers with some vanilla body spray: you might be surprised at how it makes you smile!

4. Perfume Helps You EXPRESS Yourself

I truly believe that the sense of smell is neglected in our modern culture. We are MUCH more focused on the visuals of our beauty routine: hair, fashion, makeup, etc. And why? Well, you can't smell a picture on Instagram! Why invest in something so small when no one can really experience it? Who cares about smell?

Well, maybe we SHOULD care! When you meet someone, you are taking them in through a lot of the senses: a firm handshake, the visuals of their face, the way their voice sounds, and yes, THEIR SMELL!

When you go out into the world, think about the entire picture of you as a person: your smell, your style, your "vibe." What is your overall aura? Perfume can help you add a dimension of creative expression to your overall vibe and style. Express yourself!

***Bonus tip: Hydration is essential for perfume performance and it starts from the inside by drinking enough water and continues with applying lotion before your perfume. (Even better if you can do it post shower when your skin is still a bit damp). Some people also apply a small bit of vaseline or petroleum jelly to your wrists and neck (the pulse regions) before you spray. It helps your scent last longer!

And closing, perfume can add luxury to our day, help us feel happy, help us get in touch with femininity, and allow us to express ourselves! What's not to love?

xoxo

Júlia

[goodwhump-temp]

Shawn Spencer Whump | Psych

1x02 Spellingg Bee - Motorcycle crash, hospital, knee brace, limp, bumps into bin, pain 1x03 Woman Seeking Dead Husband - Held at gunpoint x2 1x05 Lives - Held at gunpoint 1x06 Weekend Warriors - Held at gunpoint 1x15 Scary Sherry - Nightmare

2x02 65 Million Years Off - Shot at, scared 2x03 Psy vs Psy - Hostage 2x04 Zero to Murder in 60s - Brief boo-boo (chair race sabatoged) 2x05 And Down the Stretch... - Childhood bully 2x07 If You're So Smart... - Bullied by children 2x09 Bounty Hunters! - Handcuffed, jumps off boat, held at gunpoint 2x13 Lights, Camera… - Nearly nailed to death (38:00), character funeral 2x15 Black and Tan - Sad (18:30) 2x16 Shawn (and Gus) of the Dead - Mummy 'curse'

3x01 Ghosts - [Flashback; emo/arrested] Increasingly angry about mothers' return, confrontation, heartbroken 3x04 Greatest Adventure in the History of Basic Cable - Shot at, chased x3, restrained, held at helicopter-point and gunpoint, betrayed 3x06 There Might Be Blood - Held at gunpoint, dangerous confrontation 3x08 Gus Walks Into A Bank - Held back, worried, bank hostage, tight gus hug, manhandled 3x10 Six Feet Under the Sea - Held at gunpoint 3x11 Lassie Did a Bad, Bad Thing - Punched unconscious, hostage, held at gunpoint, pistol whipped, fatherly care, nearly passes out (40:15) 3x12 Earth, Wind And… - Runs into burning building, oxygen mask, held at firepoint, caught in burning building, briefly thought dead, coughing/smoke inhalation 3x13 Any Given Friday Night at 10PM - 'Abducted' 3x14 Truer Lies - Held at gunpoint 3x15 Tuesday the 17th - 'Trips', held at 'knifepoint' 3x16 An Evening with Mr. Yang - Angry, mom held hostage, scared, heartbroken

4x01 Extradition: British Colombia - Held at gunpoint x2 4x02 He Dead - Daddy issues 4x03 High Noon-ish - Stampede/pushed, falls into mineshaft, pain, held at gunpoint, trapped 4x04 Devil is in the Details… - Confession 4x05 Shawn Gets the Yips - Scared/dumb ("bomb" on treadmill) 4x06 Bollywood Homicide - Slapped (39:15) 4x07 High Top Fade Out - Held at gunpoint, shot at 4x09 Shawn Takes A Shot in the Dark - Shot, abducted/missing, bleeding, pain, knocked unconscious, choked, jumps on moving car, weak, sling 4x10 You Can't Handle This Episode - Shot at 4x12 A Very Juliet Episode - Held at gunpoint, punched x2, knocked down x2, kicked 4x16 Mr. Yin Presents - Nightmare, angry, heartbroken x2, fatherly love

5x01 Romeo & Juliet & Juliet - Held at gunpoint, falls through window, kicked through wall, insane dodging skillz, knocked down, sore 5x03 Not Even Close, Encounters - Held at gunpoint/abducted by 'aliens' 5x04 Chivalry is Not Dead - Hanging upside down (tomato face), poisoned, collapse, hospital, unconscious 5x07 Ferry Tale - Held at gunpoint x2, hostage, kicked in the face, tear gas inhalation, restrained, trips/tumbles down a hill 5x09 One, Maybe Two, Ways Out - Seriously heartbroken 5x12 Dual Spires - Trapped in burning house 5x13 We'd Like to Thank the Academy - Held at gunpoint x2 5x16 Yang 3 in 2D - Held at shotgunpoint, scared

6x01 Shawn Rescues Darth Vader - Jumps off roof 6x02 Last Night Gus - Hungover, stressed, jumps from balcony, shot at 6x04 Amazing Psych-Man & Tap-Man - Trips, found unconscious, punched, kicked x2, thrown, sand to the eye, exhausted 6x06 Shawn Interrupted - Mental patient, hands covered, knocked unconscious, restrained, held at gunpoint 6x09 Neil Simons Lover Retreat - Robbed, heartbroken x2 (29:35), smile through the pain (42:00) 6x10 Indiana Shawn and the Temple - Hand stuck, slapped, manhandled, held at gunpoint, 'crying' 6x13 Let's Doo-Wap it Again - Appendicitis, collapse, hospital drama-queen, held at gunpoint, drugged, drugs wear off, le rigor mortis, le pain, le kitty cat! 6x16 Santabarbaratown - Held at knifepoint, knocked unconscious, black-eye

7x01 Santabarbaratown 2 - Scared, angry, thrown, active mine, held at gunpoint x3, Lassie love 7x02 Juliet Takes A Luvvah - Traumatized (27:00) 7x03 Lassie Jerky - Shot at, held at gunpoint 7x04 No Country For Two Old Men - Held at gunpoint 7x06 Cirque Du Soul - Pain from pull-ups 7x07 Deez Nups - Huge confession, heartbroken 7x08 Right Turn Or Left For Dead - Insomnia, regret, depressed, head slammed into glass, bruise, concussion, denial, stabbed, nearly hit by truck, headache, tackled 7x11 Office Space - Poked x2, trips, bloody nose, scared, framed 7x14 No Trout About It - Painful yoga, choked, fired

8x01 Lock, Stock… - Held at gunpoint, "restrained" 8x05 COG Blocked - Jumpscared out of hammock, painful poke, body decked by cane, held at gunpoint 8x07 Shawn & Gus Truck Things Up - Hand squeezed painfully 8x09 Nightmare on State Street - Slapped, zombie 8x10 The Break-Up - Nervous, held at gunpoint, shot at, emotional

[selfishdoll]

NOW PLAYING…. SUPERMASSIVE BLACK HOLE

You're the queen of the superficial, And how long before you tell the truth?

sum: being a physical therapist assistant wasn’t easy work at all, and it didn’t help that one of your patients was beginning to plague your thoughts, in more ways than one.

PURE COINCIDENCE . camboy & martial artist! kashimo hajime x physical therapist assistant! reader

cw: strangers to lovers (lowkey), kashimo & reader are 19-21, kashimo is ooc of course, modern au (no cursed techniques but he’s still strong asf), sex work, pet names, teasing, degradation & praise, shy!reader, curvy reader, kashimo is an ass man, lowkey corruption kink, slightly public sex, kashimo is reckless & dumb, dumbification, manhandling, rough sex, multiple orgasms, orgasm denial, choking, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, etc.

i spent so much time on this & was winging it fr so it didn’t come out how i liked 😭😭. & it got much longer then i wanted it to be. also please excuse any typos or errors, it’s late 🙏🏾

You always thought boxing, wrestling, and martial arts were such violent sports. You didn’t see the appeal of beating someone black and blue— or forcing them into submission. You weren’t a pacifist by any means but fighting was just something you didn’t get it. Especially, when it came to making money off it.

Truthfully, however— you didn’t need to see the point. Your only concern was massaging your patients and assuring they didn’t overextend themselves.

Which happened often.

Today would be a good day for you, a starting point actually. After two years of grueling work, several months of training, and being placed in a hospital you hated; you were finally sought out by a private practice— a gym for martial artists. From what you’ve heard they were good; winning tournaments back to back and putting on quite a show for the audience.

A name that frequently showed up was Kashimo Hajime, the proclaimed God of Lightning. A title earned given how fast he was, no one able to keep up with the amount of punches that he landed on his opponent. You were sure that was impressive in its own right, but you simply couldn’t get past the name.

It made you giggle each time you heard it.

Your eyes trailed away from the building infront of you and over to your phone hooked up to the stand in your car. You pressed your lips together, “Looks like I’m here..” You mumbled to yourself, feeling anxiety gather at the pit of your stomach. A new job always did that to you, imagining just about everything going wrong. From possibly falling or messing up a chart.

First day jitters always killed your motivation.

But, you took a small breath; eyes closed briefly as you sinked into your seat for a moment. It would be fine, this would be fine. You’re gonna do great. Such affirmations swarmed in your mind, pushing you away from delving down a deep hole of anxiety and insecurity. Once you felt your heart relax just a bit you grabbed your phone and tote bag, turning the car off and soon exiting it. Shutting the door behind you, you assured the doors were locked before approaching the large metal doors of the building. Pulling them open, your eyes scanned the large area. It looked like a relatively regular gym; punching bags hanging from the ceiling in a few places, weights, and treadmills. The most interesting thing was the boxing ring in the middle of the room.

“Hello, miss? Can I help you?” You jumped a little as the voice interrupted your train of thought, turning to face a woman who was seated behind the front desk. You flashed a false confident smile, approaching her while shifting through your bag. “H—hi, I’m [Full Name]. I’m here to start as a PTA.” Your hand finally clasped around what you needed, lifting a packet of papers from the confinements of your bag and passing them over to her awaiting hand.

Her eyes scanned the pages rather quickly, “Oh, you’ll be working with Ms. Makoto.” She mused, flashing you a small smile as she passed the papers back. “She always comes late, so for now; I’d suggest walking around to get a feel for your surroundings. Maybe even talk to your future patients.” She shrugged to which you nodded, a small thank you, escaping you.

You wish she hadn’t suggested the thing at all, given how nerve-racking it felt to you. However, you now felt obligated to do it, especially with the way she was smiling at you so sweetly. Damn her.

Situating the strap of your bag onto your shoulder correctly, you headed over towards the actual gym area; eyes on the swivel to assure you didn’t end up in anyone’s way. Like you hoped, however, the martial artists were far too focused on their training, paying you no mind as their fists slammed against some punch bag or they pumped their legs on the treadmill.

The atmosphere itself was nice, really. You didn’t mind it, maybe you would get used to it.

Once you were finished walking around the people lifting weights, your eyes traveled over to the boxing ring in the middle, noticing two forms entering it and several people surrounding it. Interest quickly invaded your mind, moving towards the crowd to get a better look. You luckily found your way to the front, staring up at the two men that were currently stretching.

One was unimpressionable; hair shaved short with tanned skin. He was shirtless showcasing his simple build. He wasn’t small but wasn’t big either, sculpted but not bulky? It was clear he wasn’t a seasoned fighter. But, as your eyes turned over to his opponent; the difference was all too clear.

Standing at an impressive six feet, cloaked in a tight black shirt and baggy white pants, bandages wrapped around his forearms. You watched as he cupped his hands together behind his back, stretching his arms and fuck, were they big. Or rather the man was big in general, enough so you pitied his opponent.

You watched as he rose his arms above his head this time, eyes zoning in on the way his shirt followed— revealing his toned stomach and the pretty blue trail that traveled down. Oh, how you wanted to see where it lead to.

“[Name]?”

“Huh!?” You gasped out of your daze, head snapping over to a woman that stood beside you. She had short black hair that illuminated her pale features perfectly, sharp dark eyes already staring at you. Her gloss stained lips curled once she had your attention, “I’m Makoto. I’m sorry for being late.”

You gave a nervous smile, “I—I don’t mind. I was just uh.. getting to know my surroundings.” The physical therapist nodded at you with a smile, eyes turning over to the ring as a small sigh escaped her.

“I’ve told Kashimo to stop entertaining these rookies.”

“Entertaining?”

Makoto nodded with a soft hum, crossing her arms over her chest. “They always want to fight him for some reason, riling him up until he finally agrees to a spar. It’s ridiculous,” She mused, tapping a finger against her skin. “It’s clear whose going to win.”

You pressed your lips together, eyes turning back to the ring. To your surprise, Kashimo was standing upright while his opponent was in a fighting stance. Cocky.. Was what ran through your mind, eyes darting between the two men.

The man with a shaved head blew air from his mouth, springing towards Kashimo in a single step. Your eyes widened as you watched the cyan-haired man step out of the other’s way, bawling his fists. The sound of skin to skin contact was the only thing you could register, astonished by the pure speed of his fists, opponent trapped under the flurry of his hits. Makoto was right, he didn’t stand a chance; falling to the ring the moment the god of lightning was finished with him. The match couldn’t have been longer than five seconds.

“Kashimo, It was only supposed to be a spar— not a knockout!” Makoto called, softly complaining about unnecessary concussions. You watched as Kashimo’s bored expression fixed onto the physical therapist, a small snarl on his face. Makoto hissed at this, fussing at him not to glare at her.

He didn’t entertain her yelling long, eyes traveling away from her and fixing onto you. You didn’t hold his gaze long, or rather— you couldn’t, given its intensity. You simply turned to face Makoto waiting for her to get over her yelling so you could get started.

. . .

A few hours of work passed, the only major concern being Kashimo’s opponent and assuring he had no fractures or concussions from the match. Much to Makoto’s relief, he didn’t. Other than that you were observing and looking over charts, noticing the inconsistencies in Kashimo’s. Makoto then explained to you the man ignored injuries and she quite literally has to corner him to get him into her office. The mental image made you laugh softly.

Soon enough your shift was over, being informed you did well and to come at the same time tomorrow. It delighted you to hear such a thing. Exiting the building, you approached your car while searching for your keys in your bag, humming softly to yourself. Finally finding them, you pull them out; attention however, shifting over to the gym doors when they opened.

To your surprise Kashimo stepped out, holding a large duffel bag in his left hand while his right? Reached for the end of his shirt, lifting it up and using it to wipe his face. All under your gaze.

You felt ashamed staring at him in such a way, especially since he was technically your patient.

“You need somethin’, Miss [Name]?” His voice was muffled against the damp fabric, pulling his shirt down to reveal his sharp eyes starting at you. You jumped in surprise, nearly dropping your keys. “Oh, oh, no! No..” You breathed out, shakily pressing the button on them to unlock your car. To your horror the man gave you a small smirk;

“Safe travels then.”

“Mhm! You too!” The words escaped you meekly and far louder then you wished. Snatching the driver’s side door open, you entered the vehicle, barely even slamming the door closed before you turned the engine over. You quickly pulled out of that parking lot, attempting to forget the scene that just happened.

. . .

A soft sigh escaped you as you sat on your bed, leaning back to lay down, arms laying across your stomach. The sky was painted black, stars twinkling overhead with the moon rested aimlessly. It was getting late and you needed to get some sleep for tomorrow. You weren’t sure how work would be but you wanted to mentally prepare for the worst. However, you just.. didn’t want to sleep yet?

It was weird, really. You didn’t feel tired despite how nervous you were today. You almost felt proud of yourself.

“Still need to get some sleep though..” You mumbled to yourself, rolling over to your stomach. Pressing your face into your plush blankets for a moment, you mulled over how to force yourself to sleep. Milk, melatonin maybe? You don’t know if you had either. You spared two more minutes of thought before an idea entered your mind.

Masturbation. You were a genius.

You reached blindly for your phone while turning onto your back again, scooting up farther onto your bed as you opened the dreaded X app. Ignoring tweets from friends and celebrities you went straight to the search bar typing in something random. You just needed to get off once, it normally worked for you.

Using one hand to scroll, the other went down to your lower half, happy you previously discarded your pants as your fingers brushed across your thinly covered pussy. Warming yourself up, your fingers pressed against your covered clit, slowly rubbing it; feeling the gentle pleasure travel up your spine.

Fifteen minutes passed of this and your agitated scrolling, frustration building as nothing in particular caught your eye. Each video was either too short or too boring for something to use, or even some too much. This wasn’t supposed to be difficult anyhow. Just a quick session and then sleep. Yet, here you were; boredly scrolling.

You nearly settled for your imagination rather then a video until something caught your eye. Your thumb hovered over the video, eyes zoning in on it. It was simple, a male by himself, showcasing his lower half but nothing else. You saw the imprint of his dick through his sweats, strong hand gliding across it; teasing himself.

Pursing your lips, you clicked on the video, getting into a comfortable position. You watched as he delicately pulled the strings on his pants, watching the band loosen. His hips rose, hooking a thumb under the waistband to slowly tug down— not far, but far enough his length slowly came into view; popping out when his sweats rested on his thighs.

You sucked in a breath, watching his veined hand clasp around his pretty cock. He was pale, tip a soft red with precum spilling from the slit. He was also.. well, big; lengthy and thick— particularly around the base. You attempted to imagine it inside you, pussy pulsing at the thought of it splitting you open.

His thumb rolled on the crown of his length, collecting some precum before smoothing it down his shaft. To your surprise you heard a soft groan, feeling your stomach tighten from the sound. Most men on this annoying app were quiet in their videos, something you couldn’t stand. And while he wasn’t loud, it was loud enough your hand went straight under your panties, beginning to roll tight circles on your clit.

You moved in sync to how he fisted himself, his soft sighs and grunts escaping your phone’s speaker; envious you couldn’t hear such things right into your ear. You bit your lip as your legs shook, two fingers traveling down your slick slit to plunge inside you. Your hips rose, grinding your clit into your palm as your eyes focused on the man. You gasped out, watching as his pace quickened, hips rising to meet the thrusts of his hands.

His voice became ragged, pants desperate as he chased his release. And you, your own. You were so close, watching this stranger fuck himself. A pretty sight you couldn’t look away from.

“Oh, fuck..” Was what he hissed, nearly making your eyes roll back. You were there, right there, so close, until— you noticed something. Your eyes had unfortunately wandered from his cock to his stomach peeking out under his shirt, spotting something.

A soft tuft of cyan colored hair.

Your eyes widened for a moment, feeling your pleasure come crashing down as flashes of Kashimo in the ring and outside the building entered your mound. The way it lined below his navel so perfectly, it was all too familiar. “There’s no way..” You thought to yourself, attempting to rationalize it in your head. Kashimo Hajime, martial artist known as the god of lightning just didn’t seem like the type to do such a thing.

But then again, you knew nothing about him, so who were you to declare it wasn’t like him?

Such thoughts killed your lust filled high, pulling your hand out of your panties and quickly clicking out of the app. You turned on your side, phone rested face down on your blankets. Your eyes pinched close, attempting to calm your racing thoughts and think of solutions to this.

It was all pure coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less. Maybe dying happy trails that particular color was some trend you didn’t hear about?

You seriously hoped it was.

. . .

Despite your many thoughts last night, you fell asleep shortly after that event. Though you did wake up and feel miserable, just imagining how nervous you’ll be facing Kashimo.

It’s probably not him.. right? You continued to try and convince yourself, closing your car door shut and beginning your trek over to the gym. Opening the doors and entering, you gave a brief smile to the receptionist that greeted you and made a beeline to Makoto’s office, reaching for the door.

Only for it to open, right in your face.

“[Name]! I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were there!” The physical therapist hissed softly, watching as you soothed the pain on your forehead. You only gave a small smile, shaking your head. “It’s okay. I wasn’t paying attention anyway.” The brief pain knocked Kashimo right from your thoughts, something you deeply appreciated and nearly thanked the reckless older woman for.

Makoto looked you over for a moment before sighing softly, nodding. “Alright, well. Set your things down. It’s not a lot to do today, but that could change.”

You gave a brief smile and nodded, entering her office. It was simple, resembling a hospital room with shelves lining the walls and a long black bed off against the wall. You placed your bag beside her own, turning around to spot Makoto at the door, talking to someone.

Moving closer you quickly realized it was Kashimo. His expression just like yesterday, bored with a snarl pointed towards the older woman— who was currently nagging, just like yesterday. You swallowed a breath, flashes of the previous night entering your mind, far too quick and vivid to ignore. It didn’t help that in the midst of her words his eyes traveled to you, causing you to still; wishing to fall through the floor right then and there.

The corner of his mouth twitched, “Don’t you have someone to mentor instead of wasting your time, naggin’?” Hajime questioned, finally releasing you from his gaze to stare back at Makoto. The physical therapist’s voice rose in pitch, Hajime turning on his heel and walking off much to her annoyance..

And your relief. You hoped he was too busy training to acknowledge you today.

Two hours passed with you following Makoto around, writing down a few notes on people’s charts and even tapping some people. They were nice and encouraged you even when your hands shook a little or you stumbled over your words. You really did like this job so far.

It was the afternoon now, Makoto letting you go on a thirty minute break. You entered the lounge room of the gym, hand clasped around the black container of food you had grabbed from your bag. Approaching the microwave, you opened it open and slid the container inside— shutting the door and pressing a random time. You leaned against the counter, scrolling through your phone for a moment before an idea creeped into your mind.

Assuring no one else was in the room, you clicked onto the app you used last night, going to your previous search and beginning to scroll. It took about five minutes before you finally reached where you wanted; the video you watched last night. Taking your food from the microwave, you clicked onto the account of the video, waltzing over to a chair and sitting down.

You attempted to rationalize looking at porn — or rather a porn account at work. It’s not like you were actively watching the videos, or touching yourself; you were simply searching for something, anything that signified this wasn’t Kashimo’s account.

But, you weren’t given much. Firstly, the account’s icon and header was blank while the bio was empty too. Despite this, it had quite a few tweets and followers, highlighting this account was quite popular. You bit the inside of your cheek once again, looking around you for a moment before clicking on the media section of the page. You scrolled, leaning your cheek into your palm. Most of it was solo stuff, showcasing his lower half and never his face. Your heart thumped however; when you noticed the spiky, cyan colored hair that rested behind him in a certain video. You bit the inside of your cheek, jumping when the lounge room door opened.

To your horror, Kashimo entered— giving you a brief glance before walking over to the fridge in the room. His hand reached for something, snatching it from the fridge and rising to shut the door, moving over to the microwave. While opening the door and placing his food inside, you watched his other hand fish his phone from his sweats.

And that’s when a idea popped into your head. A very, very stupid one. Your face turned back to your phone screen, biting your lip. You were still trying to convince yourself this wasn’t him, this was just some random man you’ve never met before.

And so, if you were to like a tweet of his where— your name was completely visible, you were sure he wouldn’t react at all. Your plan seemed solid, ignoring the nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

Taking a shaky breath, your thumb pressed against the hollow heart of a random tweet, slowly placing your phone back onto the table. Maybe.. maybe you were imagining it but, you could have sworn you heard the soft buzz of a phone.

One that wasn’t yours.

Fear shot up your spine, head moving slowly to the side, eyes traveling to the only other person in the room.

Who was already staring at you, cradling his black cased phone.

Your eyes locked, watching as a grin pulled his features. It was him, oh it was definitely him. Your eyes widened as the realization set in, quickly turning forward to snatch your phone and food from the table, getting up on shaky legs and heading towards the door.

“Not hungry, [Name]?” His tone was mocking, far too teasing for you to ignore. You didn’t even spare him a glance as you quickly shook your head, snatching the door open and exiting the lounge.

The realization of the situation finally dawned on you as you sped over to Makoto’s office, nearly crushing your container of food in your hand.

You had found Kashimo Hajime’s twitter, his.. special twitter. And he knew, you knew it was him.

. . .

About three weeks had passed since that fateful day. You were, surprisingly— okay. The day after it happened Kashimo seemed normal, not ignoring you but focused on his training. You remained on edge for the rest of the week expecting something. Maybe a big blow out or a private conversation, but you got neither.

And if you weren’t sure if you were happy, or upset by that. Either way, three weeks went by with radio silence and you growing accustomed to your job.

It was about forty minutes until you would clock out, seated at Makoto’s desk and flipping through papers. Your eyes scanned the page, assuring each chart was up to date and nothing was out of order. Luckily no one has gotten injured majorly these last few weeks, but the necessary procedures had to be done.

You heard movement beside you, eyes drifting away from the stack for a moment to spot your boss grabbing her things and placing them into her bag. Noticing your stare, she turned with an apologetic smile— “Sorry, [Name]! My daughter needs to get picked up. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded at her with a smile, glancing at the clock. You would have been nervous to be left alone, but it was only thirty minutes. And once you clocked out anyone that stayed back for training were on their own.

The door closed behind Makoto as she exited the office, your head turning to focus back on the papers. You hummed softly to yourself, pressing your cheek into your palm as you scribbled something on a page, flipping to the next.

Several minutes passed with this continuous routine, eyes finally shifting away from the work over to your phone. Five minutes until your shift was over. With that, you stood, collecting the papers into a neat stack before placing it back into its manila folder; placing that into your tote bag. You glanced around the area, assuring you weren’t leaving anything behind before grabbing your bag, pulling it onto your shoulder. Turning on your heel, you approached the door and opened it; letting out a soft startled noise.

“Oh, I was expecting Makoto..” Kashimo spoke, leaning against the doorframe. He was dressed in his usual attire; a black tight shirt with white sweatpants. His dark eyes traced over your form, tilting his head at you. You attempted to ignore the way his lips twitched a bit, as if holding something back.

You quickly cleared your throat, “Did you.. uh— need her for something? She left early is all.”

Kashimo hummed softly, “No..I think you’ll do.”

“What?”

“Think you could get the kink out my arm? I must have.. punched the bag wrong.” Kashimo claimed, smiling down at you. You withtook a breath, clenching the strap of your bag tightly. He was lying, and he knew he was lying too. Kashimo Hajime, punching the bag wrong? You could almost laugh at the thought.

And that smile? Oh— it was far from genuine, far from pure. Every alarm in your head rung, warning you to refuse and leave. Yet, you didn’t listen to a single one. Your body instead turned, waltzing over to the desk and setting your things down. “You can sit on the bed. I’ll take a look at your arm.”

The words barely escaped you before the deafening sound of the door closed behind him, a soft thanks, escaping him as he sat down. You felt his eyes on your every move, watching as you approached the sink and began to wash your hands— shakily, you might add. You spent extra time there, afraid to face the man.

Soon enough, however, you grabbed a paper towel from beside you; drying your hands and turning the faucet off. Tossing the soiled towel in the trash, you turned and walked over to him. “Wh—which arm?” You questioned softly, watching as he lifted his right one. You nibbled on your cheek, gently grabbing his bicep, thumbs pressing against the muscle carefully.

“If it starts to hurt, tell me..” You murmured softly, room back to being silent. This was stupid really; you making such a show of things. You knew he wasn’t hurt, shown in the way he reacted little with each squeeze you gave him; even pressing harder to see if he would react.

Like you suspected, Kashimo didn’t react at all.

“I wonder..” You blinked as his words interrupted your jumbled thoughts, blinking over to him. He was already staring at you, a small smirk pulling his lips. One that caused your stomach to drop. One that he wore in the lounge room that day. “—when you connected the dots, when you found out it was me.. did still watch me?”

You breathed softly, releasing his arm. “I’m… I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you mean.” You played at acting dumb, a useless facade he didn’t fall for at all. Instead, Kashimo chuckled softly, turning to glance away from you.

“Oh, don’t play dumb sweetheart. You know I’m asking if you fucked yourself to my videos.” His tone was harsh, eyes turning back to you; gaze intense. You swallowed heavily, watching him slowly lift himself off the bed. You stepped back, murmuring as he met your step, backing you against the cabinets. “Bet you wished it was my cock instead of your fingers; splitting you open, fucking you until your nothing but a crying mess.”

“Kashimo..” You spoke softly, rising your hands and placing them at his waist. You needed space, air— you felt like you would suffocate with his large form covering; with his smell swarming your senses. You gasped softly as his lips moved to your ear, cool breath tickling your skin. “Please..”

“Haven’t even touched you and you’re already beggin’ for me.” His words were mocking, a breathy chuckle escaping him shortly after. “Go on.. tell me what you want, [Name].”

You could nearly moan at the way your name fell from his lips, eyes pinched closed as your hands crumbled his shirt in a tight grip. You struggled for a moment to form words, eyes pinned to the floor to avoid his gaze. Unfortunately for you, this was one of the few times Kashimo was ever patient; hands seated perfectly on the porcelain cabinets, refusing to touch you until you answer his question.

Finally, after what seemed like moments you glanced up at him, rising to lock your lips with his own. You, please. Was what you whimpered into his mouth, feeling him react immediately. A hand rose to wrap around your neck, the other coming to the underside of your thigh. Kashimo’s clenched around your throat a little, driving his tongue into your mouth and marking it as his own. You whined softly at this, gripping his shirt so much the fear of ripping it entered your mind briefly. The heavy makeout continued only his hand dropped from your neck, grasping your either thigh and lifting you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, feeling him walk backwards until he sat on the bed.

Your pussy rested just above his crotch, feeling his hardening length through the fabric of your stockings and his sweats. Your arms wrapped around his neck, murmuring against his lips as you slowly ground against him. To your dismay; the man rose his hand, slamming his palm against your ass— the sting causing you to jump, pulling back as a whine escaped your throat. “Kashimo—!” You hissed softly, glaring at the man who grinned back at you.

His fingers soothed the path, rubbing slowly circles into your covered skin, gripping every once in a while. “I suggest you fix your face or you won’t be coming at all tonight.” Kashimo breathed, slapping the same cheek once again. You lurched forward, gripping him so harshly as a soft cry escaped you. “Gonna take my time with you.. explore every inch of you under these clothes,” He hummed softly, hand reaching under your black dress, running his fingers across your thinly covered ass.

“— and i’m not gonna rush just cause your slutty pussy is desperate for my attention.”

“Kashimo…” You whined softly, pleading with your eyes. The man only smiled at you, a sinister smile; highlighting how much he enjoyed toying with you.

“It’s Hajime, princess.” The martial artist corrected, leaning to place wet kisses against your cheeks and neck. You moaned softly, feeling his fingers curl under your dress, slowly pulling it up your body. You moved uncomfortably as the cool air hit your bare skin, feeling him reach behind you; fiddling with your bra for a moment. Once he had unclipped the undergarment he tossed it aside with your dress, pulling back to glance at your exposed chest. You grew nervous under his gaze, having half a mind to cover yourself. Only, he didn’t give you enough time to do so before his large hands grabbed the soft mounds, leaning down to suck a kiss on your collarbone.

His thumbs pressed against your slowly hardening nipple, nicking your skin with his canines. You breathed softly at this, hands rising to curl your fingers into his hair, gasping as you felt his kisses lower; soft lips grazing your areola before he opened his mouth— wrapping his lips around your nipple. The unfamiliar feeling caused you to gasp, eyes pinched closed as you felt him began to suck; gently grazing his teeth across your heated skin while his tongue slid across your pretty bud. Hajime’s other hand was busy playing with your unattended breast, groping and rolling your nipple between his fingers.

Your moans grew, rising your chest into his face more; chasing after the pleasure he was giving, searching for more. All he was doing was sucking your breasts and yet, your pussy was clenching around nothing— feeling as if you were an inch away from release. You gasped out as he gently clamped down on your nipple, rolling the tender bud to hear you squeal. The ministrations continued as a hand traveled down your body, tracing the stretch marks that lined your skin— rubbing across your rolls before his fingers collected your stockings; pulling them down your body with such force they began to rip.

“Ha—hajime, they’re ripping.” You whimpered softly, words ignored as he snatched the rest of the ruined fabric from your body, tossing it to the forming pile. Your breath hitched as his hand traveled between your legs, two fingers gliding across your covered slit, feeling the wet spot forming on your panties. A soft swear escaped you as he pushed down, pressing against your clit, slowing rolling circles against it.

The added pleasure caused you to lean your head back, eyes pinched close as the feeling consumed your body. This was wrong, more than wrong actually. He was a patient and this was your boss’s office, the bed used by several others when being checked on. Yet here the two of you were, dirtying it with your own selfish desires. You should be embarrassed, maybe even ashamed.

Maybe you would feel so after he was done with you.

A soft pop escaped him as he rose away from your chest, the pretty mounds now tainted with his saliva. His eyes carried down your form, enjoying the sight; your hips moving at an attempt to find more friction in his hand, biting your bottom lip to cover the soft, pretty breaths threatening to escape your throat. Hajime hated himself for waiting to touch you like this.. to make you his. His eyelids lowered as he leaned close, pressing hot kisses against your skin again. “Using my hand to get off, huh? How pathetic..”

In any other situation you would have been offended by his choice of words, but now? It only caused you to moan softly, hips moving fast against his hand— feeling Hajime’s lips move over to your throat. You gripped him as you felt yourself grow more and more aroused, a band forming that was ready to break. Your moans grew louder as you got closer, digging your fingers into his shoulders before your eyes widened; feeling him move his hand away from between your legs.

The band slowly faded, high slipping through your fingers. You nearly sobbed— his name exiting you in a soft whine as the man did nothing but grin down at you. Hajime’s hands traveled up your form, soon tenderly wrapping his fingers around your neck, leaning close.

“Quit whinin’..” He cooed, stamping a kiss against your skin. You gasped as you felt his hood tighten a bit, hand drifting right back between your legs, breaching your panties. Without much warning he curled two fingers inside you, feeling your wet walls clench his thick digits. You swore softly, feeling his fingers reach much deeper then your own could; stretching you out and working you open.

Your pussy began to squelch with each thrust of the digits inside you, thumb rising to push against your engorged clit; hand continuing to hold you steady by the throat. Hajime enjoyed the way your pretty broken moans escaped your throat, voice vibrating against his palm. He curled his fingers once more, watching the way you jumped, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Can’t believe I’m fucking you dumb just from my fingers..” The words came out in an astonished coo, cock twitching under the confinements of his sweats and pants. Oh he couldn’t wait.. wait to see the way you fell apart as he split you open with his length.

But he needed to be patient. Needed to warm you up properly before completely ruining you.

So the pace of his fingers quickened, sounds of your messy pussy surrounding the room; acting as background noise for the high-pitched moans that escaped you. Your hips met each thrust, gripping his wrist to ground yourself. Your thighs squeezed his forearm, head knocking back as you came all over his hand. The man’s fingers soon slowed to a complete stop, withdrawing them from your wetness.

You barely registered him sticking his fingers into his mouth, sucking your mess off them. Once they were clean he leaned forward, kissing you softly— allowing you to taste yourself. So dirty..

Your lips moved slow, his thumb tracing your throat as a soft praise pushed from his lips. Soon enough you felt his hips rise, pressing his clothed cock against your wetness, grinding slowly. Even if you were still sensitive from just a few moments ago, you wanted, no, needed him desperately. So much so it nearly physically hurt.

Hajime rose, switching your positions to slowly lay you out on the bed, pushing you up higher. You whined as he body left you for a second, the sound quickly dying down when you noticed him unclothing. First was his shirt, revealing his sculpted torso and that damned happy trail. The man smirked at you as he tossed his shirt to the side, reaching for his bottoms next. Pushing them down, you watched as his length was revealed. To have it right infront of you rather then on a screen, well.. your phone didn’t do him justice at all.

“‘S not gonna fit.” You mused softly, eyes snapping back to his face, nervous. Hajime almost felt prideful from your words if it wasn’t for your tone of voice. He leaned close, pressing a kiss to your chin. “I’ll make it fit.” He mumbled, pushing close against you, grabbing his cock with one hand while the other grasped your thigh. Rubbing the tip across your slit, he smoothed your juices down his shaft, biting the inside of his cheek. Slowly, he pushed inside you, watching the way your eyebrows twitched, how your legs began to close.

A pained sigh escaped you, Hajime smoothing his hand up and down your heated skin. “Taking me so well, baby.. Just relax.” He spoke softly, hissing when he felt your walls clench from the praise. Soon enough his hips stilled the moment he pushed all the way inside, grasping the underside of your thighs— eyes closed. It took everything not to fuck you into the bed right then and there, feeling the way you carefully moved to adjust yourself; but each clench caused his resolve to wither away more and more.

Moments passed before Hajime opened his eyes, glancing down at you and searching for any sign of pain. When he realized there was none, he experimentally pulled his hips back so only his tip was inside, pushing back in— watching in delight at the way your mouth fell open in a ring O.

Nothing else held the martial artist, soft ruts quickly changing into slams. His cock bullied it’s way inside you, filling you completely. Your legs shook in his hold, gripping the fabric underneath you as broken moans escaped you. Hajime was knocking the wind out of you; pushing your legs up higher so that your knees were touching your chest. The stretch was uncomfortable for a moment, something you would surely feel in the morning— but you didn’t care. The pleasure this man was giving you overshadowed it all.

Your walls clenched him with each drag of his hips, his dark eyes captivated by the way you hugged him so tightly. “Wanted me so fucking bad, didn’t you, princess?“ Hajime hissed, grinning as he watched your eyes attempt to focus on him. The man chuckled softly to himself, leaning over you, trapping you under his body. “Oh, you don’t have to answer sweetheart— I already know the truth.”

The man was drilling into you at this point, tip kissing your g-spot as shameless cries escaped you. Tears treaded down your warm cheeks, grasping his arms for stability. Your breaths were hurried, stomach clenching as you felt yourself get closer and closer. “H—haji.. Fuck, I’m so close!”

He relished under the nickname, slamming you into the bed as he planted hot kisses against your skin. “Go on, then. Make a mess on my cock, sweet girl.” With his permission you came, gushing around him; arousal dripping down his length to the floor. You trembled from the feeling, gasping once you realized he hadn’t stopped moving. So sensitive you were, crying out to him as you reached to grip his arm.

“I—I cant, Haji—!”

“You can..“ The man corrected, angling his hips to push deeper inside you. “Waited so long to fuck you like this, to watch you go dumb on my cock— ‘M not stopping until I repay you for those three weeks.”

And he wasn’t lying either. It was almost felt like hours passed with him putting you into different positions, driving you deeper and deeper into the bed to the point it began to creak. By now you could barely speak, could barely form a sound other then a jumbled babble of his name and a soft gasp.

In the midst of it all you were suddenly pushed against the wall, thighs wrapped around his form as he shoved himself into you; a spark of pain washing over you each time he brushed your cervix— pain that melted away rather quickly.

From the way his hips stuttered you knew he was close, his face pushed into your neck as he gripped your skin harshly. Skin on skin contact filled the room, desperate sounds of pleasure following until Hajime swore; spilling into you. The warmth alone pushed you over the edge, cumming for the upteenth time that night— walls milking his cock.

The man’s hips finally came to a halt, breathing heavily as he simply held you there up against the wall. After a few moments he walked backwards, sitting on the bed; the two of you groaning in sensitivity. He pulled your hot body against his own, cradling your lower back with his fingers tracing the dimples there.

The room was silent as the two of you caught your breath, simply enjoying holding the other.

Soon enough the man pulled back, continuing to smooth his hands across your skin. “You’ll probably have to call in sick tomorrow.” Hajime murmured, grinning at the soft chuckle that escaped you.

“Yeah.. you’re probably right.”

[redtsundere-writes]

Jinx | Sukuna Ryomen

mma fighter!sukuna ryomen x femalecoach!reader

Part 7. Help Me To Help You

Beginning. ← Previous | Next →

Spynosis: Sukuna is a world champion with anger issues. It's believed by many that he is untrainable. Yeah, you can't train him, but you can dominate him. Contents: Fighting. Sukuna being Sukuna. female reader being dom. Jinx AU (the BL, not the character from lol) Reader is a baddie. Warnings: MDNI. +18. Cursed words. I only read it once, lmao. Smut. Raw sex. Vaginal. Oral. Humiliation. Reader is dom. Sukuna is sub. Word count: 4149 words. A/N: We are finally in the middle of this story. Thanks for all the support and the comments! Hope you like this chapter.

Less than 48 hours left until fight night. This time, the championship night would take place in Tokyo. It was always good to fight at home so we didn’t have to worry about traveling nor having jet lag. Sukuna and Naoya had gone through the judges and referees for the official weigh-in at the official UFC facility. Luckily, Naoya threw me a couple of flirtatious winks and didn't say a word during the brief encounter. If Sukuna found out that I betted my position as his coach, he would kill me without hesitation.

The band of the treadmill was moving under my feet. I couldn’t give up. The outcome of this fight rested on my attitude against the circumstances. My arms swayed with every step I took. I had to secure Sukuna's luck no matter what. I was losing my breath due to fatigue. Sukuna won the last fight against Toji Fushiguro thanks to me. My feet were moving on their own. Should I fuck him again?

“Hey!” Sukuna shouted in my ear, waking me up from my thoughts.

My feet stopped dead in their tracks on the treadmill, causing me to lose my balance and stumble. The band pushed me off the platform, sending me rolling to the ground. My head was spinning, so I lay down to recover. It's a lousy idea to get up suddenly after a serious fall, that's how you pass out. I knew it from experience.

“What the fuck is wrong with you today? You're acting weird lately,” Sukuna asked me, annoyed.

“Shut up,” I mumbled with a frown.

“Are you worried about the fight tomorrow?” he asked, irritated.

“Of course I'm worried! If you don't win tomorrow, I'll have to go back to the Zen’in’s!”, I thought, but I couldn't tell him that. I had gotten myself into this mess on my own, I was willing to get out of it alone and teach that jerk Naoya Zen’in a lesson.

“A little, but it will be alright. I trust your good luck ritual will work, by the way, do you have someone to fuck already?” I asked, trying not to sound too obvious.

“Keep your fucking voice down!” Sukuna scolded me between whispers, kneeling down next to me to look me at the eye. “Only Yuuji should know, but he opened his mouth and now you and Gojo know,” he whispered, after making sure no one around us was paying attention.

“Megumi knows about it too.”

“That nosy little shit,” he grumbled before desperately doing a facepalm.

I didn't think he was embarrassed by his lucky ritual. Yes, it was unconventional, but I didn't know it was a big open secret. Usually male athletes are not embarrassed about fucking multiple women, they even flex about it by bringing a different woman to their matches. I thought Sukuna would be like them, I was surprised he wasn’t.

“Get up now, you look stupid,” he said as he offered his hand to help me.

“Good thing I caught you resting, Sukuna,” Nanami announced his presence as he approached us. “Hey, weren't you supposed to leave 10 minutes ago?” he asked me directly. I looked at my watch, it was 2:10 pm. I had to leave soon if I wanted to get to my appointment on time.

“That's right! Thanks for reminding me,” I thanked Nanami before rushing to the lockers to change.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going? Tomorrow is fight night!” Sukuna shouted angrily as he grabbed my arm to stop me from running away.

“It’s going to help you win! I promise!” I exclaimed to get him to let me go.

“Are you going to let her go just like that?” Sukuna asked Nanami as if he was my dad.

“She asked to leave early a month ago, she told me it was important. It's in her rights as an employee,” Nanami explained calmly.

I abruptly let go of Sukuna, and he grumbled in contempt. He knew Nanami was right. If he didn't let me leave, I could file a complaint against him with HR. I assured him he would thank me later, and he death glared at me. That was so him.

At the lockers, I took off my stinky clothes from sweat training. I opened my gym bag and took out the denim skirt I had packed. The last time I wore a mini skirt was on my first date with Naoya, a special occasion. “I can't believe I'm going to wear this again,” I thought as I saw how short it was, it barely covered my butt. I had to wear it, this would be a special day too.

2 hours later on a train ride, I arrived at my not so exciting destination. The Golden Pot, a Chinese restaurant on the outskirts of Kyoto, known for having the best wonton soup in town. I never thought I would return to this place. It brought back bittersweet memories of my relationship with Naoya, as I had the best dates of my life with him here. It was amazing how the person I once grew to love more than myself became my #1 enemy.

Naoya has a less troublesome luck ritual than Sukuna. Before every fight, he must eat a bowl of wonton soup to secure his stomach and his victory. He always did this in the evenings after the official weigh-in. When he travels out of the country, he usually eats it before taking the plane. Since he was fighting in Tokyo, I knew he would be at the restaurant. I zipped up my Team Black jacket and walked confidently into the place.

The aroma of ginger and garlic permeated my nose as soon as I walked through the doors. Like any Chinese restaurant, the place was decorated with red lanterns hanging from the ceiling and golden dragons of good fortune among the long tables. The sound of sizzling dishes and the animated murmur of customers enjoying authentic Chinese food crept into my ears as I searched for the stupid blond with my eyes.

I spotted him at the table where he always used to sit. A table in a booth with red cushions and an intimate atmosphere. He was alone and undercover as if he were a spy, wearing a leather jacket and sunglasses despite being indoors. I really didn't want to approach him, but I had to be brave. I had traveled all the way from Tokyo to confront him and put him out of his comfort zone, I couldn't afford to chicken out now.

“Is it good?” I greeted him reluctantly. Naoya looked up from his bowl and took off his glasses to make sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him. Taking his time to run down my bare legs, getting used to the idea that I was standing before him.

“Well, well… What brings you all the way to Kyoto?” He asked me with a smile.

“Since you came to visit me at the gym and my house, I thought it would be nice to visit you at your favorite place,” I replied as I sat down across from him.

“You are so cute,” he commented before eating a wonton.

A waitress came to our table quickly to take my order. She tried giving me a menu, but I already knew what I was going to order.

“I'm not going to stay long, I'll just have a wonton soup to go and an iced tea for here,” I asked.

“Are you in a hurry?” Naoya asked me, disappointed, once the waitress left.

“A little, I have to go back to Tokyo early to continue training Sukuna,” I answered.

“Do you care about him?” He asked me seriously.

“Of course I do, it's my job.”

“No, I mean, do you really care about him?” He corrected the question.

I frowned in response. It was true that Sukuna was on my mind 80% of the day, but that's because he is my job. I have to make sure he eats well, does the exercises correctly and is in his best mental state before every fight. I have seen him progress in the last four months that I have been training him, and I was proud of my work, but where was he going with that kind of question? Naoya sighed when he didn't get an answer.

“Do you like him?” he asked, confident that he knew the answer already.

“No,” I answered coldly, before he made up weird ideas in his head.

I couldn't imagine jumping from one idiot to another. Sukuna could be an amazing athlete, an extremely attractive man and a good protector, but he was still a traitor, a rude champion and someone who uses women to his advantage. We had grown up together these past few months, but I was not to be confused, he was still Sukuna Ryomen.

“This brings back so many memories. This is where we had our first kiss. We were so young and immature,” Naoya sighed as he imagined the scene.

“We are still young and immature, especially you. You still cling to the past and want to pull me with you,” I mumbled.

“What's wrong with wanting to take back what's mine?” he wondered, annoyed that I had broken his illusion.

“That I am not your property nor Zen’in’s,” I answered.

“We'll see about that tomorrow,” Naoya selfassured.

The waitress arrived with my order carefully wrapped in a plastic bag and the tea in the typical yellowish plastic cup of this kind of restaurant. I smiled as I saw the full glass in front of me, “This is what I came for,” I thought as I took a sip.

“You're right, let’s not argue now,” I thought out loud as I got up from my seat, ready to leave. “We'll see about that tomorrow,” I said with a confident smile.

I poured the iced tea over Naoya's half-eaten wonton soup. His eyes widened at the reckless act I was pulling. I was ruining his good luck ritual before his eyes. I slammed the glass down on the table in front of him to grab his attention back.

“You better not back off,” I threatened him in a low voice so that he was the only one listening to me.

“I hope you too, cutie,” he glared at me, this time he had stopped smiling to restrain himself from hitting a woman in a public place.

I left the place with my food and sighed relieved that the conversation had not escalated any further. I checked the time. It was almost 6 pm, I had to get to the train station if I wanted to make it to the next part of my plan on time.

SUKUNA POV

A sharp pain invaded my neck as I moved my shoulder again. A grunt of pain escaped from my lips as I moved it in circles as Shoko recommended. The hot water from the shower helped dull the pain. I should be embarrassed. I couldn't let such a superficial injury stop me. I had to give my 110% in tomorrow's fight as always. My honor and my title were on the line again. I shouldn't be worried though, no one knows that my shoulder is injured, and I have Y/n, who has been teaching me all of Naoya's moves. My chances of winning were still pretty high.

I let the hot water run over my body some more. I didn't want to get out of the shower, but I had to get ready to greet the prostitute I had hired in advance for tonight's ritual. I wrapped myself in my shower robe and went on to dry my hair, so I would have it ready for tomorrow. I was in my best possible shape, but aesthetics are also important for sponsors.

The doorbell echoed through the penthouse, letting me know that someone was waiting at the door. I frowned at the time. It was barely 8 o'clock, the hooker was supposed to arrive at 9. "Who the fuck is it this late?", I asked myself annoyed. I walked over to the door to see who it was.

It was a rather pleasant surprise to see Y/n through the peephole. She was waiting patiently outside the door with a plastic bag in her hands. I was going to open the door, but I saw her take off the team black gym jacket. My cheeks flushed slightly at the sight of her in something other than workout clothes. She was wearing the shortest denim skirt I had ever seen in my life and a pink shirt that allowed me to see her cleavage thanks to the height difference. I had seen her wear things that revealed her stunning body, but this was the first time I had seen something that made her look like a girl and not like someone who can kick my ass.

She started to lose her patience. She rang the doorbell again, bringing me back to reality. I was a weak man if just looking at her made me blush. “Fuck,” I thought, annoyed with myself, before opening the door.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I scolded her. “Who the fuck gave you my address?”

“What a nice way to greet your coach,” she joked, sarcastically. “Nanami gave me your address. I came all the way from Kyoto to bring you a good luck wonton soup,” she explained as she handed me the plastic bag.

As soon as she moved his jacket from one arm to the other, I noticed something about her outfit that I hadn't seen through the peephole before. It was a detail I shouldn't have minded in the least, but my eyes hyper-fixated on it anyway. The pink rim of her thong protruded above her skirt, gently draped over her hip. The fact that I even noticed it surprised me. I'd seen that on thousands of models at parties, why did it matter to me so much in Y/n? Had she done it on purpose? It was hard to tell, since I only know her in working hours. This was the first time we had met outside the work environment.

“Are you going to let me in?” she wondered.

“Did you really go all the way to Kyoto to bring me a measly wonton soup?” I asked as I inspected the contents. Y/n slapped my arm at the rejection of her gift.

“It's the best soup in the world!” she scolded me, offended. “Also, I went to ruin Naoya's lucky ritual,” she confessed, embarrassed.

“Are you fucking stupid!? That's why you left training early?!” I yelled in annoyance.

“Hey! You should be thankful that I'm taking every precaution to ensure my victory!” she finished off by raising her voice to reach my volume. She always has a stupid answer for everything.

“Your victory…” I tasted the phrase in my mouth. “Are you only doing this just for yourself?”

“My victory is that you remain as the champion,” she clarified.

“Well, you did what you had to do,” I told her, ready to close the door.

“You didn't answer the question I asked you earlier,” she reminded me, it was as if she didn't want the conversation to end.

“What are you talking about?” As soon as I blurted out the question, she blushed and avoided my gaze.

“Do you already have someone for your lucky ritual?” She asked, still avoiding my gaze.

“Yes, she's coming in an hour. You can go home now,” I said, tired of explaining myself to her. I tried to close the door, but she pulled her body into the penthouse to avoid it.

“Are you sure she will satisfy you?” She asked me, almost desperate.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I yelled, opening the door again. “You've been so weird since we made the strategy! Is there something you want to tell me?”

“I just want to make sure that your ritual goes well…” she whispered in embarrassment. That sounded like a damn lie.

“Y/n!” I scolded her. She was startled by the scream and then sighed in surrender.

She told me all about her history with Naoya in a low voice. From how they met to how he continues to stalk her to this day. She told me how she came to his house out of nowhere and betted on her freedom to get rid of him once and for all. “Are you such a dumb bitch?! How could you even think of doing that!” are things I wanted to scream at her until her ears bled from her stupidity, but I couldn't do it seeing her so emotionally drained. No wonder she was so desperate, this was the only way she had to be able to get rid of him. What a mess she was in.

“Help me out, Sukuna.” Her eyes begged me for mercy, I couldn't say “no” to that.

“Come in, it better be as good as in Dubai,” I threatened her as soon as I let her in.

“I will do my best,” she promised.

Despite being shorter than me by a head and looking so tender in that outfit that left almost nothing to the imagination, this little shit pushed me against the bed with all her might. In my own house! She had already seen me naked and knew how I behaved during sex. So it was easy for her to undo the knot of my shower gown and unwrap me as if my hard cock was her birthday gift. She didn't hesitate to take it all the way into her mouth. Each suck and lick felt desperate. I knew she wanted to make me come, so she could secure tomorrow's victory, but sometimes the idea of her being really desperate to have my cock inside her for lustful pleasure tickled my brain.

“You really want to impress me, don't you?” I asked her as I took off my robe completely.

I pushed her towards my crotch, hugging her by the shoulders with my leg to show her how flexible I had become since she had taught me floor techniques. The splashes coming from her wet lips, her eyes watering from having my monstrosity in her little mouth and her hands holding my thighs to keep her balance were a sublime image. I could come just seeing her in that state.

I pulled her to me with one tug to do what I had wanted to do to her since I saw her through the peephole. I ripped off her thin pink shirt to reveal the pink lace bra that matched her thong. “She came prepared,” I thought with a satisfied smile. I usually like to remove the bra because it gets in the way, but I decided to leave this one on because it was cute. The little flowers looked so pretty over her beautiful breasts. I yanked down her skirt and reached into her slutty cave. She clung to my body as she moaned my name as praise. My fingertips rubbed her sensitive clit as they bathed in the natural lube. Y/n struggled against her own body to maintain her composure.

She took possession of my body as soon as she climbed into my lap. I thought the fun was finally going to begin, but she decided to keep playing with my senses. She took possession of my cock to rub the tip against her clit in slow circles. I bit my lower lip to keep from moaning like a bitch in heat.

“Don't be shy, I want to hear you,” she asked before gently twisting my nipple.

My eyes popped open as I felt her fingers against my sensitive spots. I think it's the first time I've ever been touched like that. She smiled as she realized the same thing I did. She approached me slowly to kiss my nipples gently. We had only slept together once, and she already knew my body better than I did. Oh Naoya, he really fumbled the bag. Poor bastard. She flicked her tongue and gently sucked on my erect nipples from the cold of the night. I closed my eyes to enjoy the tickling that ran mercilessly through my body as I moaned for her.

“How cute. Your cheeks match your hair and my underwear,” she whispered in my ear as she saw the blush that covered my face.

She shoved my cock in her all at once, bringing back memories of Dubai. This time, my back was no longer suffering from being pushed against a small wooden table. She rode my cock like a pro, making sure the tip had the biggest impact point. Her breasts bounced in my face, her moans were music to my ears and her hips were moving to the beat of a forbidden song. I wrapped my arms around her waist to hold her close to me and made sure my cock went all the way into her cervix.

She kissed me passionately without ceasing to impact her hips against me. It was wild, rushed, and powerful. She pressed my body against hers like a snake mercilessly choking its prey. I had no intention of fighting her, I could die in between her thighs and I would be so fucking happy.

I wasn't going to last any longer if we kept going like this. My mind kept repeating the national anthem to last longer in heaven, but it wasn't working. Y/n knew what she was doing, and she was doing a great fucking job. My cock was high and wet in her pussy, I wanted more, I needed more of her. My hips were moving on automatic to penetrate her fully. Her tits bouncing in my face was the best sight I have ever witnessed in my life. Y/n felt so tight and delicious, I was about to explode. Before I could help it, I came in her. My cock was slowly pumping her full.

“Are you done?” She smirked.

“Shut up,” I sighed tiredly. She pulled away from me to go to the bathroom to clean herself. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back to the bed. “I'm not done with you yet.”

”Huh?” She asked, confused.

“I may be satisfied, but you're not,” I told her before spreading her legs apart.

I wasn't used to eating pussy from hookers, they just made me cum and left, but seeing my coach's face all flushed and surprised made my night. She really didn't expect me to go deep into her body to finish what I had started. I dipped my head into her crotch to part her lips with my tongue. She stifled a moan and closed her legs at the tickle that ran down her back. Her thighs pressed against my face, drowning me in her delicious pussy. Y/n arched her back to bring her clit closer to my nose and thrust my tongue deeper inside her.

It was sour and sweet at the same time. I didn’t like the taste much, but I was a fan of the texture. I looked like a fucking junkie once I got used to the slimy sensation on my tongue. She pulled me by the hair to suck on her clit. I opened my mouth wide to eat the food God blessed me tonight. Y/n looked like a hot mess and I loved it. She moaned, writhed and called my name with lust.

“Just like that!” she moaned as she pushed my face, a sign that I was doing a good job.

I kept doing exactly what she asked until she squirted on my face. I jerked away confused as to what had happened. I wiped my face to see Y/n lying there like a happy starfish, arms, and legs spread across the bed tired.

“Good job,” She moaned in satisfaction with her eyes closed.

I was going to answer, but the doorbell grabbed my attention. It must be the prostitute. I wrapped my robe around me again and grabbed my wallet from the nightstand. I didn't want to waste time with her, I wanted to go to sleep soon so I could be well rested for the fight. I opened the door to find a blonde girl who reminded me of a bitch I know.

“Hi, handsome. It's nice to meet you, I always see you on the sports channel and…”

“Look, thanks for coming, but let's cancel. Someone already emptied my balls. Take 100 dollars and leave,” I said, throwing the bill at her and slamming the door in her face.

I went back to the room only to find y/n completely asleep under the covers. She looked exhausted, I shouldn't wake her up. I sat next to her on the bed and sighed tiredly. My horniness was decreasing, and I questioned whether I should let her sleep or ask her to go home. I looked at her again. She looked very comfortable and content tucked into me in the wet covers from our fluids.

“Looks like I'll be sleeping in the guest room,” I thought out loud.

Next →

Masterlist.

Open commissions!

Tag list: @maskedpacific @thepurpleempath @mazzd4 @charlie-xo

(Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!)

[undead-supernova]

Right Here, Right Now / Masterlist

Chapter 9 / Chapter 10 / Chapter 11

plot: corroded coffin's eddie munson agrees to an interview for the first time in three years, alongside a new album that is most definitely about you.

Pairings: modernrockstar!Eddie x fem!popstar!Reader (curvy!reader, bisexual!reader)

Warnings: talks of familial death, depressing lyricism, angst

wc: 4.1k

note: I also wrote all of the lyrics in this chapter and made the images above of the album's cover and tracklist. I feel so proud of how much my hard work is paying off. DON'T USE THESE LYRICS ANYWHERE ELSE THANK YEW

Just one more mile.

You could do it. No, really, you could.

Tour really was coming up in the next six months and you had to build up your stamina now or else you weren’t going to survive. Things really were better now, though. You’d gotten rid of your personal trainer and switched to someone who did not suggest that you stop eating. It seemed like Sophia was a better fit anyways. If anything, she told you to eat more.

So here you were, on your poor attempt at a night run.

And you promised yourself that you wouldn’t think about him and how his album was dropping any day now.

Definitely, definitely not.

It was nearly midnight anyways, a few out from the witching hour but that’s not how it went for you. If anything, you were cursed with the threat of midnight being the worst hour of each day. It was like some switch flicked on and you were a mess of a woman, splayed out in bed and thinking. Furiously scribbling in a notebook as you lost to the thoughts in your head. Curled up in a ball in the shower, the white noise perfect for your never-ending thinking.

And who could forget sitting in your kitchen with a bowl of Kraft mac and cheese. Don’t forget the thinking.

Thinking about Eddie. His voice. The way he was willing to give you more than you deserved without any rhyme or reason. How desperate you felt to reconnect, to apologize profusely and beg for some semblance of forgiveness.

And now you were here, trying to outrun your problems while watching the headlights passing the windowpane.

Tried to stop thinking about how at any moment, Eddie could show up and you’d fall into his arms without any question. You’d tell him it didn’t matter. None of it did. And he’d say he wasn’t mad anymore and that he missed you and then you’d go on living like you once did.

Before you could lose yourself to wishing on headlights, a notification popped up on your phone.

         Spotify exclusive: Listen to Corroded Coffin’s new album now!

Without any warning, you lost your footing on the treadmill and fell backwards. Hit your head on the floor, stunned. Let the pain throb in your head for only a few seconds before you dragged your body upright and clicked on the album.

Your eyes scanned the track list, heart pumping incessantly as a bead of blood rushed down your forehead. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Quickly, you threw yourself into the shower to wash off before grabbing headphones and padding into your walk-in closet. Situated yourself in the back corner, your body fitting snuggly in isolation. 

And as you pressed that green play button, your grief washed over you at every line you called your favorite.

Welcome Home

         “Dad’s disappearing acts and the award-winning smile 

         saying ‘sure, I’ll be comin’ back’

         Well, I guess we’re both suckers for a little hope every once in a while

         And, mom, is that why you stayed? Waited up praying, decaying all alone

         Just so one day, you’d be able to say, ‘Welcome home’.”

Fever

         “How could you ever fight a fever? God dammit, she’s more than a flame

         Got her pinning me down, locked inside her heat wave

         Sweat dripping, flesh gripping, I melt from her gaze

         Just one more round, promise I’ll behave

         Come on, darling, why don’t you set me ablaze?”

The Cost

         “I ruined all the plans that hadn’t been made

         Loving you as the bellbirds erupted in a haunted chorus

         Rosy pink clouds turned into showers of blood and hate

         I’m trying, baby, I’m trying to find a way out for us

         But isn’t that the cost, darling? 

         Isn’t that the price of being with me?”

Tailor-Made

         “We’re the only ones walking through the neighborhood

         Sweetheart, don’t you think I know how to hide?

         I’d never speak it, but I’d buy every house if I could

         Marry you in secret, raise our kids benevolent and kind.”

Rose Petals (Interlude)

         “Take a boy-turned-man, crucifying himself at your altar

         Convince him your devoted infatuation will never falter

         Paint his skies a vibrant pink then turn him into sheet metal

         Leave him bleeding out, fractured, scattered like rose petals.”

As Good As Dead

         “What’s more cliché than a man saying he’d die without your love

         At least if I had an open vein, I’d feel something better than being numb

         ‘There’s no such thing as fate’ my thoughts screamed so fucking loud

         But there was comfort in blind faith, that ill-fated crowd

         Had a grip on your throat. Shit, maybe it always has

         But now that I’m as good as dead, I can’t help my bitter laugh.”

A Mirage of Lovers

         “There sat Elizabeth and Al,

         on the front porch of their first house

         Blind with momentary affection

         And I swear when I looked at you,

         I thought you were a lasting confection

         But I swear there’s a mirage of lovers

         Blurring in its reflection.”

Deluge

         “It’s all there in my head, all in disarray

         A cesspool of memories, a desperation for change

         Fought for my life, thought it was so I could see you

         Mother, I know that you’re not here, I’m still trying to heal

         But please tell me now that love has always been real

         Yet I wonder if you ever believed it yourself."

Hotwire

         “Al loved a nice Hotwire

         Pull ‘em apart, let them fray, twist ‘em till they go insane

         And, yeah, I guess everyone I love is the same.”

Fallen Hero (Interlude)

         “Every time I pick up a pen

         It’s destined to dry out

         And I refuse to go outside, refuse to call my friends

         What’s the point when they’ll never understand?

         I’ll leave myself behind just to have a pinch of hope

         But I come back down from daydreams covered in blood

         Just gotta learn to change, learn to change

         Learn to accept being the fallen hero."

Intangible

         “There’s beauty in the ways of intangibility 

         Like the touch of a woman in blushing gardens far away

         The curve of her hips blooming in shades of futility

         Laughter billowing like smoke lingering in the archway

         And there’s places she will never be able to evade

         A bouquet, a veil, a lover lying await in the shade.”

Out of My Hands

         “If I could hear your knock, brought back by my revery

         Each rap, each tap still committed to my memory

         But that’s up to you, darling, it’s all up to you

         And it’s the end I’m stalling, just for you

         And I love you, baby. I love you

         I hope you know I always will

         Even if it’s out of my hands.”

Wayne

         “There’s a new family in the trailer, I really wish I could believe it

         'Cause once I thought we'd buckle under the weight of all that labor

         No more scrounging up pennies for another first-aid kit

         And you’re not here, Wayne. No, you’re not here.”

Lighter

         “Give me back my lighter, any excuse to see you

         Let it flicker, sit by the flame from sunrise ’til noon

         Come running back, consider your exile foregone

         I choose you in the low glow of dusk, love you ‘til dawn.”

Makeup starting to smudge, an outrageously expensive crop top and skirt still on, you threw off your pumps and let your aching feet lead you to the kitchen. Your black, white, and neon orange plaid outfit reflected vibrantly off the refrigerator light as you decided instead to make crescent rolls. Why the fuck not? 

You were absolutely exhausted. Sleep hadn’t been an option for you in the last twenty-four hours, what with Corroded Coffin’s album keeping you awake and the promo you’d done all day. When you’d finally arrived back to your small California home, you were irritated and in desperate need of some food.

However, as the oven began to preheat, your jumbled thoughts kept piling on top of one another. The fog was too loud for you, having to rush to your living room to grab one of your many notebooks and pens. Sat at the island and just journaled.

It was hard enough knowing that Eddie had written all of that for you. About you. The disappointment, the self-loathing. The guilt of not feeling good enough. Searching through the past mistakes of his parents to make sense of the way you fell apart. As if that was the inevitable ending to any story he was destined to begin.

You felt sick.

And even though you ate every single crescent roll, your words just sunk into the page. You could’ve sworn a third of the notebook itself was smeared in grease and flakes and the intense shame rising in your chest. It was everything you’d hated about the last six months and more, all the goddamn childish emotions and wails of what was fair and what wasn’t. As if this hadn’t been your decision in the first place.

Enough was enough when you finished your plate.

“Okay,” you mumbled to yourself before letting out a sound of frustration. “Distraction. Now.”

Grabbing your laptop, you threw yourself on your couch and logged onto YouTube. Maybe you’d watch a deep dive on an amusement park. Catch up on some commentary. Look up that one video of baby sloths talking that usually had you crying from affection.

But there on the front page was an interview with Corroded Coffin on the new album. There’d already been over a million views despite being posted that morning. Something pooled in your abdomen as you saw the thumbnail, all the members posing together.

And you knew you shouldn’t.

But fuck it, what’s a little more salt to your never-ending wounds?

As you clicked on the video, some interviewer you hadn’t heard of popped up smiling before he spoke.

“Hi, my name is Marcus Sanderson and today I’m interviewing one of the most successful metal bands in recent history, Corroded Coffin. They have been hitting commercial success lately, after their incredible album, Fire Shroud, held electronic influences which have begun to redefine and evolve the genre for the modern age.

"Their most recent album, Elizabeth & Al, has only propelled them forward. I was given the rare opportunity to talk to Eddie, Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie about not only their writing and producing process, but their personal lives. 

“First, we’ll open up with a cover of one of the band’s favorite songs of all time, ‘Solitude’ by Black Sabbath.”

It cut to the band and you couldn’t help a frustrated whine leaving your mouth at seeing him again. And, Jesus Christ, Eddie was fit like a daydream, donning a black Guns N’ Roses t-shirt with dark jeans and a long-sleeved plaid shirt tied at the waist. A shiny leather jacket, some custom-made Converse with Corroded Coffin across the bottom. Rings and bracelets galore, an obsidian choker hanging low on his neck. Black eyeliner that had wings along his lower lash line. 

You didn’t think you’d ever felt so fucking weak for him.

He stood without his guitar for once, his full attention on his singing. Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie were all decked out too, makeup mirroring Eddie’s. All looking refreshed and well-rested. You noticed there was someone else there in the background playing the flute and as they started the song with a gentle solo, it sounded ethereal.

         “My name, it means nothing. My fortune is less

         My future is shrouded in dark wilderness.”

Eddie avoided the camera, eyes darting around the room. You could see his fingers shaking, white-knuckled around the microphone despite the stability of the stand. 

         “Sunshine is far away, clouds linger on

         Everything I possessed, now they are gone

         They are gone.”

Absentmindedly chewing on your lip, you couldn't help but let it sink in. This wasn't just the band's favorite Black Sabbath song—this was Eddie's. He'd told you how the song ripped him apart. How he'd rather die than to ever relate to it personally.

         “Oh, where can I go to and what can I do?

         Nothing can please me, only thoughts are of you

         You just left when I begged you to stay.”

He leaned back as he began to change the notes of the lyrics, his voice building into a belt. Like it was a wail, like he was the most furious man alive.

         “I’ve not stopped crying since you went away

         You went away…” 

The instrumental sounded, the flute having its own solo. Extending the moment, extending the devastation that was demolishing your soul.

Eddie was crying now, wiping the corners of his eyes in the background. Smearing his eyeliner like he didn't care, nose tinged pink through the makeup. And when he came back to the mic, you could see the pain sitting in his eyes. All glassy, all excruciatingly fragile.

         “The world is a lonely place, you’re on your own

         Guess I will go home, sit down and mourn

         Crying and thinking is all that I do

         Memories I have remind me of you

         Of you.”

The footage blurred, fading before cutting to Eddie sitting alone in a chair with the interviewer opposite him. Like they were in a house, all casual and at ease.

“We’re starting off by talking to the front man, Eddie Munson,” Marcus said to the camera, smiling before turning his attention back to Eddie. “It’s nice to see you, man. You look great.”

Eddie chuckled. “Great to be back.”

Marcus nodded. “That cover of ‘Solitude’ was incredible, by the way.”

You could see some color flood into Eddie’s cheeks. “Ah, thanks. Thank you.”

“Do you feel like you’ve been in a period of solitude?”

“Uh, to be honest, kinda. I know people are, like, freaking out just ‘cause I haven’t been in public.”

“Where’ve you been?”

“Just making sure I’m focused on the work,” He gestured to himself before mimicking a pushing motion “and not on the external stuff, you know?”

“As we all should. Would you tell me a bit about your new album? Personally, I’m curious as to why you specifically named it Elizabeth & Al.”

“Yeah, uh, those are my parents’ names. My mom passed away when I was a kid and my dad…well, he wasn’t the best. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about what happens when two people who love each other just end up falling apart. Like, you just feel like you’re as good as dead, you know? And I wondered if my parents had that sort of crash and burn before she died.

“I don’t talk about it much, but my dad had a lot of issues with addiction and gambling and crime after my mom died. I didn’t grow up with the generic parent bleep. It was more like I was his friend than a son and sometimes I was a business partner. And, I don’t know, I grew up thinking that love could’ve been so simple if he gave just a little bit of effort. But I still thought he and my mom had a simple love.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t.”

Eddie let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah, no. My dad was never really good at maintaining, like, any kind of control. And it’s so weird ‘cause all he ever did was try to have control over things. But it was self-sabotage, I think. He was never in control over his life. It felt so predestined.”

“What about your mom?”

He shrugged. “I’m not really sure. I think she just wanted love. Like, grasping for that shred of love that he provided every once in a while. ‘Cause it’s not like my dad was incapable of love. Just incapable of giving her everything. Maybe I’m projecting now, but you know what I mean.”

“So, is this album from the perspective of your parents?”

“Not exactly,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “They’re kinda just the reflection, you know? Like what I say on ‘A Mirage of Lovers’. Our parents end up being a kind of mirror we hold up to ourselves. And I think it’s up to us to decide if we’ll continue that cycle or not—especially in the face of heartbreak and loss. ‘Cause you can easily sit there and accuse yourself of being like your father or your mother. But ultimately, you’re just you. You’re not your parents.”

“And you wrote all of this within the last six months, correct?”

“Yeah, it was weird. Like, I just couldn’t stop writing. I was in such a dark place and the only thing I did was sit and write. And the band is so bleeping incredible. I showed them what I was thinking, and they were super, super receptive to it. And we got to work and got it done faster than anything else we’ve made.”

Marcus smiled, something genuine and real, shaking his head in disbelief. “That timeline really does shock me, just because it’s so seamless. There’s all these tiny details and every song just flows into one another.”

“Thanks, man. That means a lot. We kinda thought that having all the songs connect was sorta like, um, a stream of consciousness, essentially.” He started gesturing with his hands and you knew he was getting more comfortable. It almost made you smile. “Like, these thoughts all run together in a big loop. Like having one of those corkboards with all the evidence and red strings, you know? All of it just ends up running together and there’s no concrete answer. It just is.

“And, man. Jeff, Gareth, Grant, and Ronnie are just the best. They know me better than almost anyone and they seemed to automatically get what they needed to do. Just, like, boom, boom, boom. One after the other, we just got everything right. No one else helped produce this album and I think it shows just how much we’ve learned and evolved over our careers.” 

You felt something freeze inside you when the interviewer mentioned your name.

Eddie tried his best to seem unaffected, but you knew he was starting to squirm. You could see the top of his knee as it bounced.

“Are you two still together?” Marcus asked. “What’s the story there?”

Eddie’s eyes wandered the room, probably trying to calculate the best way to go. You selfishly wanted him to say nothing about the breakup, to refuse to confirm that it was truly over. 

He cleared his throat before scratching his temple. 

“My relationship with her is private and just between us. It always has. But I guess since I finally have a chance to say whatever I want to say, I want to make it very clear that the way the media has treated her has been just disgusting and unwarranted. She is not some plastic, shiny doll for everyone to point and laugh at."

Eddie then straightened his posture as he looked straight into the camera. "Oh, and let me be clear. If you’re sitting there talking about her bleeping body, then you are a piece of bleeping bleep and I hope you burn in hell.”  

Just like that, Marcus Sanderson moved on, the shot cutting away to a shot of the rest of the band sitting on a couch. But you weren’t listening anymore. Your head was swirling with a concoction of disbelief and epiphanies. Something…clicked.

Because you’d never had a partner mention you on a public scale. Never had a partner willing to scream your love from the top of the world and still retain privacy. Never had someone so willing to defend you despite your faults. Despite your arguments and downfalls.

And you were realizing that you…had done none of that for Eddie.

You’d sat there, in a dreamy haze because Eddie gave you everything he had. But had you really done any of those things back? Had you given him an ounce of what he gave you? 

You thought back to the AMAs, when you walked around your answers. Nearly yelled at him for standing up for you. Dropped his hand when he wanted to tell you how proud he was. Hell, you even broke up with him because of what other people said. He thought you wanted nothing from him, that you weren’t interested anymore. 

You never even said you loved him to his face.

You treated him exactly the way all your past partners treated you.

Eddie Munson had given you his world and you’d given him a fraction.

“I fucked up,” you whispered before you really processed what was happening. “I FUCKED UP!” you screeched, scrambling to stand up and check your phone. 

1:13am.

Immediately dropped it, watching it slide under the couch.

“FUCK!” you screamed again.

Dropping to your knees and enduring the carpet burn, you reached down and felt around for your phone. But you froze as you felt something else, something smaller in size. Pulled it out, recognizing Eddie’s lighter immediately. 

You flicked the lighter on, only encountering sparks the first two times. But when you watched it transform into a flame, something in your chest began to ache. It was the kindling of a once-wet fireplace, the first stroke of fire you’d felt in months. Teardrops fell freely down your chest as you found the will to fight.

Fight for what you knew you could never live without.

Fight for Eddie.

Give me back my lighter, any excuse to see you

Come running back, consider your exile foregone

Without any thought, you stuffed it into your top, found your phone, and popped up to search for some socks. Barely registered the color before yanking them on. You didn’t care how dressed up you were or how oily your face felt. How exhausted your body was or the residue of a crescent roll sticking to the side of your mouth.

You had to get to wherever Eddie was, and you had to get there now. If you didn’t talk to him tonight, you didn’t know if you’d make it to daylight.

But where was he?

The thought made you pause, hands shaking as you thought.

And before the panic could completely consume you, you called the one person who seemed to know everything.

“Woah, hello there.”

“Jeff.” 

“Hey, long time no see. Where you been?”

“Jeff, I’m sorry, but I really need you to tell me if Eddie is in California right now.”

“Uh, yeah, he is.” You tugged your white Keds on, breathing a sigh of relief. “He’s been holed up in his place for the last few days. Why?”

“I just need to talk to him,” you said, nearly out of breath as you started sprinting to the garage. “I need to talk to him.”

“Ever thought about calling?”

“Nope.”

Jeff’s laughter rang through the receiver. “You’re crazy, girl. I’ll give you that one.” A huff left your nose as you climbed into your car. “You gonna tell him you’re in love with him?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Finally.”

“Are you mad at me?” you asked, dreading any answer he’d give.

“Not at all. Just don’t leave him hanging this time, okay? He hasn’t been okay in a really long time.”

“Neither have I. I’m hoping to fix this and let it stay fixed.”

“Go get your man.”

As the garage door lifted, you noticed the pouring rain.

Of course it started fucking storming within the last hour and a half you’d been home. Of fucking course.

“Bye, Jeff,” you said quickly.

“Bye, girl!”

As you filed out of your driveway, a black SUV was already pulling out behind you. The protection was part of the job. You knew this. But sometimes, you just wanted to tell Scott that you had shit to do on your own.

But there was no time for this.

You just continued to drive, letting the soft hum of “The Long And Winding Road” by The Beatles lead you right back to the very place you knew you belonged.

“Scott,” James acknowledged.

“James.”

It felt like a showdown, Scott stepping in front of you at the gates. As soon as you’d arrived, you’d been prevented from pulling into the driveway. And it was James who’d crossed his arms over his dauntingly ripped chest, staring you down like you’d committed a crime.

You couldn’t blame him.

“What’s the situation?”

You tried not to roll your eyes. “I need to talk to Eddie.”

“It’s two in the morning. Kid finally fell asleep for once.”

“Let her in, James,” Scott said. “They’re people. Just let them figure it out on their own without us.”

“I really want to fix this,” you explained, earning a lifted eyebrow from James. “He’s everything to me and I know I screwed up. I know that. But I want to at least try to mend this. I’m a fucking idiot. Just…please.” Your eyes began to water. “Please let me try.”

James gave you a hard stare for what felt like ten minutes. Like he was assessing the risk. 

But then he opened the gate, stepping to the side. 

“Thank you,” you breathed, rushing past him to the door.

You knocked quite rapidly, your heartbeat matching the pace. Heard it pulse in your ears. Teetered on each foot as the adrenaline continued to catapult you further into madness. Waiting and waiting and waiting until— 

There he was, barely visible in the glow of the front porch light, eyes squinting. Messy curls frizzing, wearing a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants. No accessories, no socks on his feet.

It seemed like he finally registered it was you when he straightened his posture. Eddie gazed down at your body and back up again, eyes widening with every passing second. 

“Hey,” you finally whispered.

“Hey.”

bless @strangergraphics for always having the sickest dividers.

[bat-mom-writer]

Hair Neglecting Nightwing

Reader(Mom) X Dick(Son)

Note: If your looking for a little story about be Dick Grayson's mother, here you go.

(I do not own any DC characters)

"Your hair got longer." She noted, her eyes scanning the locks that had grown out of Dick Grayson's usual neat crop.

"Mm? Oh yeah, I guess I got a little busy recently," Dick mumbled, his attention glued to the screen of the Bat-computer.

Her gaze lingered on him for a moment longer, noticing how often he brushed the strands away from his eyes with a flick of his wrist. The gesture was becoming almost subconscious, a dance of annoyance he performed every few minutes.

"Would you like me to braid it?" she offered, her voice soft but firm, pulling him out of his thoughts.

Dick looked up, surprised by the suggestion. She wasn't one for hair styling; she was more of a combat strategist than a beautician. But he knew she had a gentle touch, one she reserved for moments like these, when the chaos of Gotham's streets didn't bleed into the manor.

"Yeah, sure, that'd be great," Dick finally responded, his eyes lighting up with a hint of appreciation.

She took a seat behind him, her deft fingers working quickly to gather and separate the strands of his hair into three even sections. The soft tug as she began weaving them together was almost comforting, a stark contrast to the tension that often filled the air when they were discussing missions or Bruce's latest crusade against the city's criminals. Dick could feel the warmth of her body against his back, a grounding presence amidst the cold steel and technology that surrounded them in the Batcave.

He slowly started to lean into her touch, his shoulders relaxing. The rhythmic motion of her hands was soothing, each pull and twist of his hair sending a gentle cascade of sensation down his neck and spine. His eyes grew heavy as he listened to the quiet sounds of her breathing and the occasional clink of her braiding tool against the chair.

"You falling asleep there, Nightwing?" She teased gently, her voice a warm whisper in the cavernous space of the Batcave. Dick chuckled, the sound echoing slightly off the high-tech equipment around them.

"Maybe just a little," he admitted, "but I should try focusing on this case." He straightened up, the braiding nearly done. The tension in his neck dissipated as the last few strands were tucked into place.

She stepped around the chair, her eyes meeting his in the reflection of the computer screen. "You little heroes and your need to keep working, it makes me tired just thinking about it," she said with a knowing smile. Dick couldn't argue with her; the relentless pace of their lives was a constant reminder of the burdens they carried.

Her smile grew as she tied off the end of the braid with a piece of black ribbon she had found in Alfred's emergency sewing kit. "There you go, all done," she said, patting him on the shoulder. Dick reached up to feel the tight, neat braid, a small victory against the chaos of their lives.

"Thanks," he said sincerely, turning in his chair to face her. "I don't know what we'd do without you."

"Probably pull your hairs out," she quipped, gently cradling his head with one arm to have him lean on her shoulder. Dick couldn't help but chuckle at the truth in her words. Her support was like a balm to his weary soul, something he never knew he needed until she had come into their lives. Her embrace was warm and firm, a silent promise of understanding and unwavering support.

The moment lingered, a rare pause in the relentless treadmill of their lives. Dick felt his heart swell with affection for this woman who had stepped into their world of capes and cowls, and somehow made it feel a little more like home.

"You know we don't say it enough," She began, her voice a gentle caress in the dimly lit room, "but I'm proud of you, Dick." The words hung in the air, unspoken but palpable, resonating within him like the chime of a distant bell. "I always have been."

Dick's eyes searched hers, a storm of emotions playing across his face. He nodded, his throat tight with emotion. "Thanks," he managed to whisper, feeling a sudden weight lift from his shoulders. "That means a lot."

Her hand lingered on the side of his head before she stepped back, the lightness of the moment dissipating as reality set in. "Now, go save Gotham," she said with a firm nod, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. Dick smiled and with a nod he turned back to the computer, his gaze focusing on the information sprawled before him. She watched him for a beat before heading back to her own tasks.

[criticsstuff]

Counting the seconds (Series)

Addison Montgomery x freader

Chapter 1: seconds

Words: 1444

Summary: Back in Seattle you’re not just dealing with a tumour, you met a amazing woman that is eventually going to change your life.

Warnings: in this chapter none but swearing, later I promise you smut, angst, cheating and more.

Updates: Weekly

A/n: This is my first fanfic and English is not my first language. I’m sry if something isn’t perfect. Anyway my first project will be a series obviously. I just thought I’m going to start with something big. And I’m open for requests ;)

Navigation Part2 Part 3 Part4

—————————————————————

Rain pooling down the drained window like the tears you kept in, now freely falling. Too long you were standing there, just staring at the wall, the floor, the ceiling. Funny isn’t it ? How fast time can run, chasing the long gone minutes.

Shit, I don’t wanna be late- you thought. You grabbed the few things you haven’t packed jet and stumbled out the door.Your flight to Seattle in 2 hours is leaving your throat dry. But to be totally honest you’re excited to see them again. Mer and Arizona were pushing you to visit them again. Yeah, anyway now you’re the one pushing with a tumour housing in your brain.

Lifting your large luggage off the ground and on the treadmill, to finally get checked in, is the last thing you do before you sit on the plane and lay your safety belt on. 6 hours feel long, so high above the ground. You’re not willing to stay awake the whole flight, so you shut your eyes, slowly drifting off as you hear the soft humming of the plane getting quieter.

****

After being undisturbed for almost the whole flight you finally wake up. The tall, slightly scary looking man sitting next to you, wasn’t too thrilled by the crying toddler a few seats ahead and decided to murmur and huff complaints in his beard. You use the left time to think about Seattle, to be more concrete you think about the people in Seattle, your people.

You haven’t seen them too often, after Derek died. It just hadn’t felt right to come and visit, you should’ve, now that you think about it. The distance being so short, makes you miss them even more. But this time you visit not just as a friend, you’re a patient. The word never scared you -patient- it sounds so small. Now you’re the patient and it scares the hell out of you. Why?

The plane is about to land and you’re about to see your friends. Stepping of the plane, you lift your head and take a deep breath , inhaling the fresh air seeping trough your lungs. It feels okay to be back, maybe even great.

You pick up your luggage and leave the airport to get a taxi. You already talked to Meredith about your visit and she gladly offered you to crash at her house. Not wanting to spend your first day back in some random hotel, you accepted thankful .

The ride was calm and you thought about ways to don’t make the reunion awkward. You couldn’t blame Mer to be mad. You just left and barely even called. As the taxi neared the location you couldn’t shake off the nervousness climbing up your throat. Too long you were gone, too long you missed mer.

You paid the taxi driver and left the car, headed to her front door, gulping down a not exisiting knot. You counted the steps you made and took one last long breath before you knocked. It didn’t took long for the blonde women to walk down the stairs, straight to the door.

She looked at you, she nearly stabbed you with her sharp stare. Probably you would’ve end up running if she hadn’t stopped looking at you like that . Instead of the nearly cold stare she offered you one of her smiles. „Well, look who decided to actually visit.“ she grinned at you, taking your wrists pulling you in a warm embrace. „I missed you.“ you murmured in her hair hugging her even tighter.

„No need to strangle me!“ she laughed pushing you inside. „You can have your old room back.“ she said practically dragging you and your luggage up the stairs. You missed this. You couldn’t wait to see the others. „I will probably spend the whole time in the hospital.“ you mentioned tapping on your head. To point out the thing with the tumour chilling in your brain.

„Yeah, probably.“ she whispered turning around to look at you. You just looked at each other sharing unspoken words. You were both scared, even if you wouldn’t say it out loud. You shake your head trying to throw the odd feeling away.

„Anyway, today is the day. So hospital is my next stop, do you mind coming with me later?“ you asked trying to lighten the mood. „Of course, I have a shift later so it’s perfect. How about we two catch up ?“ she ask throwing herself on your bed. You smiled, laying next to her.

****

There you were, walking trough the hallways of the grey Sloan memorial hospital, with Mer on your left and Arizona on your right side. In every step you made, laid fear. Would you walk out again? Would you survive? You were promised on of the greatest neurosurgeons, one that ist going to help you. And hopefully save you.

„Here we are. You can settle in and Dr. Shepherd will be here in a bit.“ Arizona told you smiling. „Thank you, see you two later.“ you said reaching your bed and laying your stuff on it. They walked out, looking happy to have you again, even as a patient.

You took your clothes and put them in your wardrobe, feeling kinda weird. Obviously you aren’t used to live in a hospital. Finished with organizing your things you sat on the bed, staring at your hands. Damm it, why would you of all people get a tumour?

Clicking heels break your thoughts, urging you to look up. A woman with dark long hair walked in, smiling , with a nervous looking man by her side. “Hello there. Deluca would you mind presenting?”she questioned even if it wasn’t a question. “But make it simple.” you said, not wanting to hear more than needed.

He nodded “ 28, female, with a tumour in her head. Here for a final removal of the tumour.” presented the young man fast, holding your chart in his hands. “So Y/N the plan is that I will observe your tumour over the next couple of days. We will make daily tests to make sure we don’t miss anything and after that you can say your final goodbyes to the tumour.“ Dr Shepherd told you looking at the charts.

„Sounds good“ you said trying to smile not really happy with your long stay at the hospital. „Can you change, I would like to do a Ct.“ she added, looking at you with kind eyes.

****

After spending two days in the hospital, you got bored staying in your room all day. Deciding to stop sulking around you got up and found things to do. Currently walking down the hallway with Mer, to kill your boredom, you saw her.

Orange locks effortlessly laying on her shoulders, confidence laying in her step as she made her way towards you. Addison Montgomery, yeah you knew her. Well you never really talked but, the beautiful woman was well known across your friends. You stopped, not daring to come one step near her. So as she stopped in front of you and Mer, piercing right trough you with her daring eyes, she knocked your breath right out of you.

„Hey, Addison“ Mer smiled at her. But Addison was still looking at you tilting her head with a curious smile. „And you are?“ she questioned. You couldn’t stop looking at her, she was literally perfect. She raised her eyebrows, wondering why you wouldn’t answer. „That’s Y/N, you might have seen her before. She is a really good friend of mine.“ Meredith answered for you, chuckling at your loss of words. At that you took your self together trying to get at least one word out, not wanting to look like a complete fool. „What she said.“ you said looking anywhere but at her.

Addison smiled clearly amused by the strange behaviour you showed. „What are you two up to?“ she asked still smiling, lifting her hand to push a strand of hair out of her face. „Walking.“ was all you said trying to find a way to leave this conversation as fast as possible. „Yeah, I see that.” she remarked holding her laughter back. „Y/n here, is bored so she forced me to go on a hospital walk with her.” Mer mentioned looking at you, acting annoyed to tease you. „How about you go on walk with Y/n ? I’m sure she wants to get to know you.” she asked Addison, clearly trying to kill you.

Before anyone could say a word, you turned around. „You know what, I forgot I’m pretty busy dealing with my tumour. I have to go!” you announced, already running of. Leaving the two women stunned behind.

[spiderlilyserendipity]

Safe and Sound 🔞🔞🔞🖤🖤🖤

Summary: You have a hot neighbour, Jeon Jungkook. It starts out as a little crush, then turns into something more. Can you keep your feelings a secret?

WC: 5522 (5.5k)

Tags: jungkook x reader, neighbours au, shared wall between bedrooms, dom!JK, sub!reader, teasing, JK has a title (owner), multiple orgasms (f. recieving), vibrator use, mild breathplay, creampie, aftercare king JK, implied happy ending

Warnings: Unprotected sex (be careful!)

A/N: Sorry for disppearing randomly everyone, I am in fact alive LOL. I come with JK smut as a peace offering. Requests open. Okay enjoy :-)

🖤🖤🖤

It starts out pure, as most things do. 

His name is Jeon Jungkook, and he’s your neighbour. The two of you have lived beside each other for a few months now and he has never given you any grief. Aside from that, you know little about him. He looks like a superstar: long hair that he keeps tied back neatly, a sleeve of tattoos, and a nonchalant vibe to him. He isn’t a superstar—you googled him the same day you met him to make sure. He tells you in the elevator he works in the music industry, a producer. He asks about what you do, and you keep it short and simple because you’re nervous and you don’t want to make your little crush seem bigger than it is.

He looks thirty at least, but when he smiles, his face turns younger. He has laugh lines despite his youth, and dimples. He works long hours, and when he comes home, he often looks exhausted. Despite that, Jeon Jungkook is polite to all the neighbours and does not make much fuss. He works out in the apartment’s gym, mostly using weights. He’s not always there when you are, likely adjusting his workout times to his schedule. Sometimes you run into him when he’s warming up, and he nods to you. Other times, he’s concentrating on counting his reps and you take the time to eye his glorious muscles. But your favourite times are when he’s boxing. 

You tell yourself not to be weird about it, but there’s just something about the sport (or rather, Jungkook engaging in it) that makes your stomach turn. It always goes the same way: he warms up first, wraps his hands, then starts. It’s light punches at first, then kicks, then faster hits. You watch him from your treadmill through the reflection of the window in front of you. He never notices you looking, assuming you’re focusing on the music you’re listening to (you’re not listening to anything). You suppose your crush broils down to the paradox between Jungkook’s nature and his cool exterior. After all, there are many men who put effort into looking cool and then ruin it by opening their mouths. On the flip side, there are men who are sweet but can’t keep a woman’s attention for the life of them. 

Jeon Jungkook has the best of both worlds, and from what you’ve seen, he’s single. A couple years older than you and with a very different aesthetic, you don’t know how well it would work. But that’s the point of a crush: the less you know about them, the more you like them.

So you resign yourself to just watching him from afar. A few times, you and Jungkook finish exercising at the same time. It’s the same conversation every time, small talk in the elevator. Then you get to your front door, and he smiles at you one last time before unlocking his own. He disappears, and you go on with your life. 

Until you come to a startling conclusion: the two of you share a bedroom wall. 

The realization comes to you at midnight one Thursday, at the brink of a long weekend. You don’t hear the sound of Jungkook’s door open, nor are you awoken by the quiet voices. But what does wake you is the thud right next to your bed.

Your eyes fly open, your mind immediately racing. Did something fall? Is there an earthquake?!

Then, you hear the woman moan. “Oh, please.” She whimpers, and you feel your face flush. Oh. 

“Please, what?” It’s Jungkook. His voice is muffled through the wall, deep and raspy but you recognize him nonetheless. You flush harder, pulling your blankets in tighter. “You have to be polite, sweetheart.”

“Please, sir. Please fuck me.” The woman concedes. You hear the rustle of fabric against the wall as someone moves against it. The woman’s pants draw closer to your head, and you hold your breath. Jungkook has pulled the woman over, pressing her against the wall. 

“Mmm, hmm.” Jungkook says, sounding very pleased. “That’s better. But you know I won’t let you have your way, right?”

The woman murmurs something in response, and another smack resonates. You flinch at the sound, but the woman moans. “You can’t just please, sir your way into what you want every time.” Jungkook hisses, sounding perfectly cruel. “You know damn well I have a trip with my friends that I have to leave for in the morning. So why the fuck are you here now?”

“I missed you.” The woman admits. 

Jungkook scoffs. “So you ask my friend for my address and show up unannounced without panties under your dress?” You can hear the scowl in his voice. Another smack and the woman’s pants grow louder. 

“You like it.” She says. 

At that, Jungkook says nothing for a moment. Then, you hear a low chuckle. “Don’t push it.” He warns in a soft voice. Unconsciously, you swallow. You hear the clink of a belt, and then the woman giggles. Another smack and her giggling is cut short. 

Footsteps move away from the wall, then the woman calls out. “Ugh, why are you getting a condom?”

Even though you don’t mean to, you find yourself straining to hear Jungkook’s answer. “Why would I give a little whore like you my come?” Jungkook says with a laugh, as if he’s talking about the weather. At that second, your traitorous brain decides to remind you of the time you made Jungkook laugh with a pun about the weather. 

“I must be crazy.” You mutter to yourself, throwing your blankets off. You reach for your night stand, rummaging through it for your ear plugs. “Boundaries, Y/N. Boundaries.” You mutter, shoving the ear plugs in as far as they’ll go. Then, you roll to the side away from the wall and concentrate on your breathing until you fall asleep.

But as your brain would have it, you dream of one thing: a set of hands. The right one is tattooed and the left is bare, the fingers long with beautiful nail beds. You dream about those hands being wrapped before boxing, the strong hits against the punching bag. A polite smile flashes in your mind, and then a much less polite set of words coming out of the mouth. Little whore.

***

Morning comes, and you do your best to get your mind off the events of last night. You tell yourself it’s normal to overhear a conversation or two while living in an apartment building. You tell yourself it’s perfectly normal for a grown man like Jungkook to bring a woman home, to indulge in whatever consensual pleasure he enjoys. Most importantly, you keep a steel grip over the butterflies in your belly. A crush is one thing, but having sexual thoughts about someone who has never so much as flirted with you is inappropriate. 

“Oh, let me.” 

You freeze in the doorway. You’re fighting with your front door, trying to get it to stay open so you can lug your suitcase out. At that moment, Jungkook comes out of his own apartment. He’s freshly showered, his hair still wet. He smiles at the sight of you struggling, then easily pulls the door open the rest of the way. As he comes closer, you smell his soap and aftershave and try not to die on the spot. You can’t even hide your expression, because Jungkook is looking directly down at you, smiling. Who knew a man with such an innocent smile could say such nasty things?

“Something wrong?” Jungkook asks, his smile faltering for a second. Then, he looks down at your suitcase. “Oh, is it stuck?” He guesses, his hand brushing over yours. You watch him pick up the suitcase that was requiring your whole body to pull with one hand. “Ah, the back wheels stick a bit, don’t they?” He says, chuckling softly. 

Little whore. The words echo in your mind.

Fucking shut up. You tell yourself, then smile at him. “Yes, they do.” You force a laugh. “I think it’s time for me to invest in a new one.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jungkook says, laugh lines appearing on his face. Then, his eyes glance over your sundress and sandals. “Are you heading somewhere for the long weekend?” He asks, and you swear for a second his eyes linger on your collarbones. 

You fight a blush, then nod. “My friends and I are going to the beach. We’ll drive down this morning, have a picnic down there. That’s actually what the suitcase is for, I made snacks. Well, it’s not all snacks, there’s some clothes because we’re going to visit my hometown and spend the rest of the weekend there. I haven’t been in a while, but I really miss my parents, so I’ll probably get them souvenirs from the beach before—” You stop yourself short when you realize Jungkook’s smile is growing wider. Your face feels hot. You hope you’re not blushing, but from the look on Jungkook’s face, you are. There’s no way Jungkook doesn’t know what he’s doing to you. 

“A-Anyway. I’ll leave you be. I’m sure you have to leave soon, too.” You say.

Jungkook raises a brow. “How do you know I’m going somewhere?”

You know damn well I have a trip with my friends that I have to leave for in the morning.

The two of you just look at each other for a moment, and at this point, Jungkook doesn’t even bother to hide his amusement. “Well, just a guess.” You flounder. “It’s the long weekend, after all. Why wouldn’t you go somewhere?” You say.

“Mmm hmm.” Jungkook says. Then, he purses his lips. “Have you been keeping tabs on me, Miss Y/N?”

“No.” You mean it—you might have googled him that one time but you have never looked up the man’s socials or anything. You don’t even have his number, so of course it would be a violation of privacy to follow him uninvited. The problem is that you say it a little too fast, which makes you look like a liar even if you aren’t.

Jungkook takes a step closer, and you swallow. You step backward, hitting the now-closed front door. He chuckles. Don’t push it. You’re reminded. “Do I make you nervous, Miss Y/N?” Jungkook asks, even though he knows the answer. “Or is there something else you’d like to tell me?” His eyes glint with the answer, but you refuse to acknowledge it. If you say you heard him last night, he’ll definitely think you’re a pervert.

“No, not at all.” You say, side stepping him. “Have a good trip!” You say without looking back, then beeline with your half-broken suitcase for the elevators. In your rush, you miss the smug expression on Jungkook’s face and the way his eyes flicker down your body.

***

The trip goes fine, or as fine as it can go in your circumstances. You try to sing along to your friends’ playlists to distract yourself, but the only thing that comes to mind is Jungkook. You try your best to make sense of it. You’re not a virgin by any means, but it has admittedly been a while since you dated or slept with someone. Jungkook is handsome and polite, but there is a third important factor: you see him often. You see him around, and although you two aren’t friends, you feel comfortable for that reason. 

That’s all it is. Familiarity. You aren’t crazy for him, you don’t even know if he has a girlfriend. You’ve never so much as sat down and had a cup of coffee with the man. He’s just a really handsome man and you’re an extraordinarily single woman. End of story.

But still, as the day drags on you keep thinking about him. There’s a certain tenseness to you, throughout the picnic and even when you visit your parents’ house. You’re not sick, you’re not hurting. But there’s a tension you don’t have a name for, and only Jungkook’s face seems to ease it.

It’s not until you’re home that you realize what that tension is: sexual frustration. You need an orgasm.

You push off your frustration for a bit longer, choosing to get a little bit done. You cook dinner for yourself and carefully select which photos to post on your Instagram, and make plans with your friends to meet up again next week. 

But as the night draws closer, your frustration hits a peak. You need an orgasm badly. 

So you try the old-fashioned method: your vibrator and porn. You pick a random video with a semi-good thumbnail and put your earbuds in. The man in this video talks dirty to the woman, but for whatever reason, you’re not turned on by it. The tone of his voice is all wrong, and he says the words like he’s reading off a script. He doesn’t care about her pleasure as much as he does the camera. He doesn’t mean it.

Little whore.

You gasp, opening your eyes. You turn off your vibe, setting it aside. You’re losing your mind, you really are. What kind of a pervert gets off to someone who has absolutely zero interest in them? You’re insane. 

So you try again with the vibrator, this time without the video. You use your imagination this time. You imagine your ideal man—muscular and handsome. He’s rough in the right ways, but knows what you need and what your limits are. He calls you filthy words and makes you work for your own orgasm, and when you obey him perfectly, he will reward you with a sweet title. He’ll tease and touch you, but he’ll give you what you want if you’re patient. If you’re not, his big, calloused hands will come down on your ass. But if you behave, he’ll slip one tattooed finger inside—

“Fuck.” You gasp, cutting off your own orgasm. You groan, tipping your head back against the pillow. You just did it again. You whine, setting your vibe aside. You want an orgasm so badly, but not an unethical one like this. 

You try one last time, turning the vibe back on. You can feel yourself growing wetter by the second, and your hips rut up on their own. But you don’t want that, you don’t want the freedom of doing whatever. You want the discipline of someone’s hands pinning your hips down, someone’s mouth controlling when and if your clit gets stimulated.

“Please, please.” You whisper, trying to dissuade your own mind from thinking of Jungkook. You feel the high building, and you’re wet from all the edging. You slip a finger inside yourself, but it’s just not enough. You need someone to fill you up properly and rub your clit for you, not a stupid toy and your own fingers. At this point, you’re all but crying with frustration. This isn’t how you want it to happen, this isn’t how it should go. But you’re high strung and you’ll take any orgasm you can get at this point. “Fill me, fill me—”

Your quiet begging is cut off by a loud clatter on the other side of the wall. 

You hiss. You snap the vibe off, tipping your head back. Even at the brink of pleasure, only one name crosses your mind: Jungkook. Jungkook is home, and you need to make sure he doesn’t hear you.

“Fuck.” You hear him curse, then his footsteps draw closer to your head. A beat of silence, and you think he must have picked up whatever he dropped and left. At least, you want that to be the case, because you don’t know how long you can hold out. So you turn your vibe back on, but before you can put it back against you, your doorbell rings.

You smack your head against your pillow, wishing you could knock yourself out. You’re crying now, and you’re wetter than ever. You need this orgasm, but some fucking asshole has to show up right this instant and bother you. 

You pull your panties and shorts back on, then pull your baggy shirt down. You’re not wearing a bra, but you don’t particularly plan on opening the door anyway so you just head over. You look through the peephole, and the sight all but takes your breath away. It’s Jungkook. 

“Y/N.” Jungkook drops the formality, knocking against the door. “I know you’re there.” 

You take a deep breath. Surely, he didn’t hear you, right? He’s not going to think of you as some pervert, right? You tug down your shirt more to cover your tiny shorts. No, surely Jungkook just wants something simple. A cup of sugar, the new hours for the apartment gym, etc. So you open the door. You pretend to yawn, but Jungkook’s sharp gaze cuts you off. Immediately, his eyes flicker down your body. You’re sure he can see your hardened nipples through the shirt, and the high rise of your shorts. 

Jungkook takes a deep breath, like he is trying not to lose his mind. Your heart thuds in your chest. “Did I interrupt something?” He asks. You hate that habit of his, asking questions he knows the answers to. 

“No.” You lie bluntly, and a muscle quivers in Jungkook’s jaw. 

“Can I come in, then?” He asks. You watch his eyes roam your face, taking in the flush of your face and the half-dried tears.

“No.” You answer.

“You said you weren’t doing anything.” Jungkook says, taking a step inside. You inhale sharply. Without looking behind him, Jungkook closes the door and locks it. “Am I wrong?” He challenges you. 

You can’t take it anymore. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“What?” Jungkook asks, a slight smile on his lips. 

You look down at his baggy black t-shirt and skinny jeans, at his sleeve tat. You’re too close right now, less than a foot between you. He looks down at you with a darkness in his eyes you’ve never seen, and it drives you insane. “I’m sorry.” You apologize, looking him in the eye. “I didn’t listen in on you and your girlfriend on purpose. You just woke me up.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Is all Jungkook says, but his eyes hone in on your tear-stained face. “Is that why you’ve been crying?”

“No, I—” You want to cry again when he asks you. Jungkook cups your face, holding you steady. You take a step closer and dig your hands into the fabric of his shirt. “I want to come, but I shouldn’t.”

“Why?” Jungkook asks.

You start to cry again. “Because I keep thinking of you and I shouldn’t.”

At your confession, Jungkook hisses like you burned him. “You can’t let yourself come because you keep thinking of me?” He reiterates, wiping your tears. You nod. He chuckles darkly, and you feel yourself slipping into his control. “What if I gave you permission? Would you like to come then?” He asks, his voice low and soft. You feel reassured at his words.

“Yes, please.” You whisper.

“Yes, please, what?” Jungkook has a glint in his eye now that tells you his own self-control is slipping, but he won’t make the first move unless you let him.

“Please, owner.” You cry, and Jungkook seals your lips with a kiss. In a heartbeat, Jungkook’s shoes are off and his hands are all over you. He kisses you like he wants to eat you alive, and you’re so needy that all you can do is whimper into his mouth. You let him pull you up into his arms, wrapping your legs around his middle. He walks you to the bedroom, undoubtedly knowing which side of the house it’s on by now. He sets you down on the edge of your bed, kissing you.

“Take everything off, baby.” Jungkook orders, and you have never wanted to obey a man so badly in your life.

You stand up since it’s easier to strip like that. Meanwhile, Jungkook takes your vibe in his hand, smirking at it. “This little thing is all you have?” He laughs at it. You flush as you come to stand between his spread legs. You press your thighs together, turned on by the fact that you’re completely naked while Jungkook is dressed.

Jungkook pulls you in closer, wrapping an arm around your hips. He looks up at you, then kisses along your belly and hips. You wriggle, and Jungkook digs his fingers into your ass, holding you still. He glances up at you, eyes full of lust, then smacks your ass. You gasp, loving the feeling even though you know he means it as a warning. Jungkook then pulls the back of your thighs, and you take it as your hint to straddle him. Once on his lap, Jungkook kisses along your neck and collarbone. He chuckles as you sigh against him, then takes one of your nipples in his mouth. He sucks at it and fondles the other side. It takes everything in you not to grind down on him. 

“Such small hands, too.” Jungkook says once both of your nipples have been sucked. You follow his gaze to where your hands are resting on his chest. Belatedly, you realize your right middle finger is still wet from fingering yourself. “Poor thing, no wonder you were begging to be filled.” Jungkook mocks you.

“Owner.” You say breathlessly. 

“What, whore?” Jungkook says, then leans back. You watch him take off his shirt. He smirks at you ogling his muscles, then smacks your other ass cheek. “Don’t be a greedy slut, you’ll get what I give you. Now bend over my lap.” He orders, and you follow suit. You whine at the sensation of Jungkook’s denim against your already wet pussy, but Jungkook doesn’t care for your complaints. He kneads your ass with his hands, and you moan. “What do you like about me so much, anyway? Tell me.” He says.

“Y-Your hands.” You answer immediately, making Jungkook laugh. He slaps your ass twice, and you all but shake with the effort to not grind up against him. “S-So big. I w-wanted to feel them on me since I saw you boxing.”

“Ah, is that why I always see you at the gym these days?” Jungkook says in an exaggeratedly understanding voice. He slaps your ass again, harder. 

“Yes, owner!” You cry out, clenching your thighs. 

Jungkook chuckles. “How cute. You really are a greedy bitch. I don’t know how you went all these months without begging me to fuck you even once. It’s obvious you needed it.”

“I-I did, owner.” You say. Jungkook pulls your right leg out so that your thigh dangles over his knees. He rubs at your clit, making you whimper. You’re concentrating so hard on trying not to come that you miss Jungkook’s question. Jungkook slaps your pussy, making you focus. What else? “A-And your muscles are so nice, you look so strong. I wanted you to h-have your way with me.”

Jungkook laughs, slapping your pussy again. You feel your tears return at his teasing, bubbling up. “Is that so? Wanted me to make an example out of you, show everyone how I can make a needy whore like you do whatever I want?”

“Yes, owner!” You respond enthusiastically, and Jungkook rewards your honesty with a gentle rub to your reddened ass and then up your lower back. It almost feels like a massage, until you shift just slightly and feel Jungkook’s hard member right under your clit.

“Come.” Jungkook orders, turning the vibe on and pressing it to your clit.

“Owner, no!” You beg, and Jungkook stops instantly. 

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, making you turn your head to look back at him. Worry crosses his face. “Is it too much, baby?” He checks, and you shake your head.

“I wanna come with you.” You say, and Jungkook’s expression softens. 

“I won’t give you just one, since you’re pent up.” Jungkook says in that same low and soft voice that makes you feel like you’re floating. You’re sure if you asked, Jungkook would have no problem going gentle on you, but his sweetness feels more valuable since you have had to earn it.

“Okay.” You say softly, feeling lost in Jungkook’s hold. Jungkook leans down, kissing your hair. Then, he turns the vibe back on and presses it to your clit. “Oh, fuck. Oh, owner.” You cry out, and reach back for Jungkook’s free hand. He gives it to you, and you hold it between both of yours like a lifeline. You press a kiss to the back of it as you come, shaking hard. Jungkook lets you ride it out, never so much as grunting when you dig your nails into his hand. He lets you lay there for a moment, catching your breath. Then, he helps you sit up.

“How was that, baby?” Jungkook checks, brushing the hair that’s stuck to your face away. You preen at his gentle touch, feeling proud to have met his standards.

“Good. Thank you, owner.” You say, and Jungkook beams. Then, you look down at his bulge. “Could I help you now?”

At that, Jungkook’s smile flickers. “Can you handle it? We don’t have to if it’s too much.” Jungkook makes sure you know, but you shake your head.

“Wanna make you feel good. Just for you.” You tell him. 

Jungkook kisses your forehead. “Lay down then.”

You lay back against your pillow and Jungkook gets up. He unbuckles his belt, which alone makes your stomach flip in glee. He removes his jeans and then his underwear, 

“Would you like to come from my fingers?” Jungkook coos at you, blatantly ignoring you writhing against him. He laughs as you clench and unclench, curving his fingers at the perfect angle. “You have to answer me to get what you want. I won’t give you anything if you’re greedy, you know.”

“I want to come. Please, owner. I want to.” You beg, and Jungkook turns the vibe off. You watch as he leans in, pressing his lips to your clit. He sucks at it while fingering you, then looks up at you. You come blindingly fast, purely from the knowledge that although Jungkook is technically pleasuring you, he still has all the power.

“That was fast. Did my little whore need it that bad?” Jungkook mocks you, running his thumbs over your hip bones. You shudder at his all too gentle touch, knowing damn well he could leave bruises if he wanted to. But he doesn’t because he knows you’d love that, and he won’t give you anything you want unless you show him proper respect.

“Yes, owner. Needed it.” You answer honestly, then let Jungkook help you into a sitting position. Jungkook holds you by the back of your neck, kissing you slow and deep. You sigh into his mouth as Jungkook uses his clean hand to rub at the knots at the base of your neck, quiet but attentive.

When you break off the kiss, you glance down at Jungkook’s hard cock. You lick your lips and Jungkook snorts. “Not right now.” He reads your mind. “I want to be inside you.” He says. You swallow at the thought of it.

Jungkook turns you around, positioning you so you’re on your knees. You whine as he wets his tip in your come, then slides in inch by inch. Both of you groan at the feeling of your overstimulated pussy clenching around him, wanting more. Jungkook wraps an arm around your waist, holding you flush against his chest. You rest your head back against his shoulder, and Jungkook gives you a minute to adjust to the feeling of him. When you’re ready, you squeeze his arm and Jungkook starts to pump in and out. 

You whine, and Jungkook kisses your neck. “That’s it. So obedient.” He says, and the praise makes you groan. You reach down and take away the vibe from Jungkook’s free hand. You take his hand and guide it to your throat, making him hiss. You hold the vibe to your clit on your own, satisfied at being used. Jungkook lets you get away with taking charge, if only because he notices you clench harder around him when he presses on your throat just enough to make you lightheaded. Within a few minutes, Jungkook’s thrusts begin to lose their control, and grow faster and rougher. It gets to the point where Jungkook is all but holding you up, and his groans and pants are no stranger to you now. 

“Would you like my come?” Jungkook asks with a slight laugh, still having the energy to tease you in this state.

“Yes, owner. Yes. Thank you so much.” You chant, and Jungkook tightens his hold on your throat just enough to make you lightheaded. You tip your head back against his shoulder, only able to concentrate on holding the vibe to your clit while Jungkook wraps his free arm around your waist. He uses his arm around your waist for leverage to fuck into you, and you have no shame in crying at this point as he uses you. You feel so full already, but you want his seed.

“Good girl, come.” Jungkook praises you, and that alone sends you over the edge. As you clench and shudder around him, Jungkook comes into you. The two of you end up back down on the bed, with Jungkook laying behind you. You let him tuck his chin over your shoulder, rubbing his hands along your sides to soothe you. “Good girl, so perfect.” He praises you, holding his come deep within you. 

“Thank you. Thank you so much, owner.” You say in a desperate voice, your sub space overtaking your rational mind. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, however, smiling and peppering kisses against your neck. 

“Let’s stay like this for a bit, okay?” He says and you hum in agreement. 

The two of you lay for what feels like forever, and you’re so tired and satiated that you feel yourself starting to fall asleep. But that’s when Jungkook pulls out of you, reaching for the tissue box on the nightstand. “Here.” Jungkook whispers, wiping between your legs gently. When you whine from the overstimulation, Jungkook kisses you softly. “Do you want to shower now or after?” Jungkook asks.

“Now.” You say, but hold your arms out. Jungkook grins, his eyes crinkling. He lets you wrap your arms around his neck and carries you like a bride to the adjacent bathroom. He turns the shower on and helps you get in. You let him wash you down, cleaning your skin and hair. Jungkook takes his sweet time, humming under his breath as he works on you. When you’re both clean, Jungkook wraps a towel around his hips and then another around your body.

“Do you want to get dressed and I’ll change the sheets?” Jungkook asks. You can’t answer him, too deep into the feeling of being safe and doted on. Noticing this, Jungkook cups your face, kissing you. Then, he leads you back into the bedroom. You sit on your vanity chair, watching Jungkook rummage around your room for fresh sheets as if he’s always been there. 

As if he’s always been there. 

The thought is dangerous, even in your blissful state. Jungkook has other women, probably multiple. You can’t be stupid and think he only does this stuff with you. The thought makes your heart sink, getting in the way of the soft feeling in your head. 

Eventually, Jungkook finds a fresh set of sheets on the top shelf of your closet. He strips the bed down and changes it, then throws the soiled sheets into the laundry basket in the bathroom. You even watch as he looks through your nightstand for disinfectant wipes for your vibrator, and cleans it off. Then, when he’s done everything, Jungkook opens his arms and lets you come over to him. You get into bed, cuddling into Jungkook’s arms. Jungkook pulls the covers over both of you, holding you close. 

“Sorry.” You whisper. Even one word is hard to say, but you need to say it.

“Why?” Jungkook says, patting your head. You sigh against his chest. Even with your body wash on him, Jungkook still smells so much like himself.

“Y-Your girlfriend…” Is all you can get out, and Jungkook quickly pieces together what you mean.

“I don’t have one. She’s only an acquaintance.” Jungkook says, then pulls back to look at your face. His expression softens. “We can talk about all of this later. I’m not going anywhere.”

“No?” You ask.

“No.” Jungkook reiterates firmly. For good measure, he holds you tighter and you sigh. You love this feeling, love feeling taken care of. “Just relax and let me take care of you, baby. We can talk more later. I’ve got you.”

“Thank you.” You murmur, and Jungkook continues to hold you close until you fall asleep. Safe and sound. 

[newtonsheffield]

Kate, fresh out of a relationship, decides to try a new gym nearby. She almost falls from the treadmill when she sees what she assumes is Adonis, exercising across from her.

Anthony, on the other hand, tries so hard to impress the new woman at the gym, he actually does fall down, but does it stop him from using ropes? Absolutely not. Especially when he realizes 1) the treadmill faces the ropes and 2) the gorgeous woman keeps looking at him when she thinks he isn't looking.

(inspired by the new Jonny workout video)

I think you should read my fic Side to side 😉

If Kate and Anthony hooking up at the gym is your cup of tea

[pawnshopbleus]

I feel like Abby is a gym rat who loves weights and strength and training. But the reader is a pilates yoga zumba princess who just likes being skinny. Opposites attract, I guess. Abby teaches her more about wanting to be strong, and readers interested is piqued because she never thought outside of what is normally expected of women when it comes to body image.

This, but without the skinny part so that everyone can relate!

Body image has always been a struggle for you. From the moment you were born, images of what a woman should look like were thrown at you. The same genre of women were on magazine covers, television, and movie screens. It overwhelmed you. Every corner you turned, all you could see were those women. You looked nothing like them.

And then you met Abby. She was everything those women weren't. Tall, strong, and buff. And you loved her.

She invites you to come work out with her. Not because she thinks you need it, but because she craves your company.

Abby starts off on the treadmill and you join her. She only does about ten minutes as a warm-up while you continue running. Sweat is already running down your forehead and you're panting non-stop. You're so out of shape that it's embarrassing. You look over at the girl next to you, she's been running at a faster pace and she still looks put together. A sense of dread polls in your stomach as you take in the girl's appearance. She's small and toned, just like the girls in the magazines.

"Are you okay?" Abby asks, worry evident in her tone.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you pant, "I'm just going to stay here for a bit longer."

"I'm going over to the weight station if you need me. Don't overexert yourself, okay?"

You nod as Abby walks away. You jab the speed button, making the treadmill go a bit faster. You're running, running, running, and then, you trip, falling flat on your face and getting thrown off the treadmill.

The entire gym is silent and Abby is by your side in less than ten seconds. You're fine. Just a few scratches and a busted lip, but nothing too serious.

In the car, Abby is staring straight ahead. The keys are in the ignition, but the car is still in park. Abby's hands are gripping the steering wheel.

"I told you not to overexert yourself and now you're hurt. Why did you do it?"

"Because," you mumble.

"What?"

"Because I want to look better. For you, for me, for everyone else. I just-I don't like the way I look!" You shout so loud that you're surprised that the car windows don't break.

"What?" Abby was gobsmacked. She thought you looked perfect, but your looks weren't the only thing you had going on. You were also incredibly smart and talented. "You really think I'm that shallow? That I would be with someone for the way they look? You are the love of my life and I wouldn't trade you for the world. You are incredibly smart, beautiful, and insanely talented. And I love you."

Love yourself! You are so incredibly sexy, smart, and talented, and you have great taste. 💋

[hezzabeth]

NANOWRIMO DAYS 1-10

Saying Farewell to Armageddon

Act 1

The first winter

This is not a ghost story. Well, technically, it is, as it involves the haunting consciousness of someone who is definitely dead. Probably dead. Most likely dead. In the far-off future, true death is mostly optional.

This is not a fairytale. Granted, there is a princess in disguise. There is a fair bit of magic. True love prevails. But no, this isn't a fairytale.

Rather, this is a war story.

3834 AD: Ten miles from Skandasaipur, a city on Mars, part of the country of Mangalrajya.

A cold and burnt-red winter. Turquoise snow gently falls in tiny cubes, landing on the rust-colored dirt. In the distance, right on the horizon, there are pillars of smoke. Somewhere a city is on fire. “Aiyo Rama! They better not have burned down the teleportation port again! It makes shipping the ice impossible,” a young woman called Sugafana sighed from deep within her layers of bright purple and emerald green protective clothing. Her companion, a man covered in dark blue and silver, sighed, leaning down on his shovel. “Calm down! We can always drive down to Samarthanagari and use the public pod station,” the man, whose name was simply Jay, said. Sugafana merely grunted with annoyance before picking up her own shovel.

Once, Sugafana had worked in Samarthanagari's best girls' school. Every Thursday and Monday, she would march in through the front gate with her smart green briefcase. The school was now nothing more than a steel shell. “The hair curlers burned that pod station last month,” Sugafana reminded Jay, who sighed. “Just keep digging, Martian snow is going for fifty credits per kilo right now,” Jay pointed out, and Sugafana picked up her shovel before digging into the ground. Fifty credits a kilo. Before the war, Martian snow went for five dollars a kilo. Every Shigmo, children would eat cups full of the stuff flavored with sugar and wild honey.

“I can practically feel your frown from here,” Jay remarked as Sugafana scooped then snow up before dropping it in her bucket. “Prices are getting ridiculous! Barf cheene ghan used to be super cheap, and now vendors will have to charge ten credits to make a profit,” Sugafana growled with annoyance. “And it’s just dry sugar ice,” Sugafana finished as she stuck her spade into the snow again. “Correction, it’s dry sugar ice that some people believe has magic powers!” Jay cried in a sing-song voice. “And do you believe that?” Sugafana sarcastically asked. Jay shrugged. It was the sort of shrug Sugafana had seen many times over the past two years they had spent ice farming. A shrug that indicated Jay wasn’t willing to really believe in anything. Sugafana struck the ice again with her shovel, and there was a sudden faint clinking sound. “There’s something here,” Sugafana said, feeling faintly surprised. “You probably just hit some black ice, the snow fell during the night and the field was empty yesterday,” Jay pointed out. No human alive would dare to go out into the snow at night. The icy winds would tear through layers of protective clothing freezing blood in its veins. “The appliances wouldn’t come out here, no energy charging grids for miles,” Sugafana pointed out as she leaned down to push the cubed snow away with her gloved hands. “I heard the richer appliances have started using humans as portable batteries. They make the humans run ahead of them on treadmills,” Jay recalled as he shifted, standing behind Sugafana. “And who told you that? Your gossiping premika?” Asked crisply. “I told you before, Minty is not my girlfriend,” Jay said wearily, and Sugafana gasped. An eye was staring back at her in the snow. A shiny golden eye. “It’s an android,” Sugafana said, pushing more snow away to reveal a lady's face. A long and elegant face with Cupid bow lips and a stately nose. “Hit it with your shovel,” Jay ordered her. “I said Android! Not appliance! Androids don’t have artificial intelligence,” Sugafana snapped with annoyance as she quickly used her shovel to clear more and more snow. “They don’t? I thought all electronics were determined to turn us into slaves,” Jay remarked as Sugafana unearthed golden shoulders covered in a magenta silk shawl. “My transportation pod uses an electric battery, the lights at camp use electric wind power, and none of them have killed us,” Sugafana pointed out, and Jay raised a gloved finger. “None of them have tried to kill us yet,” Jay merely replied. “Just help me! Baba Tarak will find us a buyer who will pay a small fortune,” Sugafana said, and Jay kneeled down next to Sugafana, his gloves brushing against the snow. For a moment, their eyes met. It was amazing, Sugafana thought, what a person could tell just by glancing at someone’s eyes. Sugafana had never seen Jay’s entire face. They always met five times a week on the fields in their uniforms, helped each other shovel the snow, and then said goodbye at the migrant camp's gates. It has been that way for years. Once or twice, Jay had been foolish enough to ask Sugafana if she wanted to stand together in the food ration line. She always said no. It was easier that way. Still, Jay’s eyes were so dark it was almost impossible to see their pupils. They did, however, crinkle in a way that whispered they were kind. “That’s peculiar,” Jay remarked, breaking away from her gaze. His hands had uncovered a peculiar glowing lump that extended just below the android's chest. “It looks like a perfectly normal maternity droid to me,” Sugafana replied, brushing more snow off its legs. “Is that what they look like? I’ve never seen one in real life! Most women had their babies in my town the old-fashioned way,” Jay remarked. “I used to walk past a boutique selling them on my way to work! I never saw actual pregnant women in the city,” Sugafana replied as she cocked her head to one side, trying to find the android's barcode. “Strange, there’s no identification,” she said to Jay. “And what does that mean exactly?” Jay asked.