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scarluna · 2 months ago

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Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT II / ACT III / ACT IV / ACT V / ACT VI / ACT VII

Chapters: 1 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers

ACT I.

I adjusted my blazer for what felt like the millionth time, catching my reflection in the mirrored elevator doors. It wasn’t like me to fuss over what I was wearing, but this wasn’t just another job. It was Jeon Enterprises, one of the most prestigious companies in the world, and I was walking straight into the lion’s den.

The blazer was professional, fitted just right. At least, I hoped it was. The material hugged my body in ways that made me overly aware of every curve, but I had told myself over and over this morning: You’re here because you’re good at what you do, not because of how you look.

The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. I stepped onto the executive floor and immediately felt small. Everything screamed luxury. The floors gleamed, the walls were adorned with minimalist art, and the light streaming in through floor-to-ceiling windows made the space feel impossibly big.

“Greetings,” the receptionist greeted me with a perfect smile. Her sleek ponytail and impeccable outfit made me feel like I’d rolled out of bed. “Mr. Jeon is expecting you. His office is straight ahead and to the left.”

“Thank you,” I managed to mutter under my braeth, clutching my portfolio like it was a shield.

Every step down the hallway felt heavier than the last. I’d heard the rumors about Jeon Jungkook. Everyone had. The man was a genius, sure, but he was also ruthless, arrogant, and an unapologetic womanizer. He had the kind of power and charm that let him get away with it, too.

I knocked on the massive wooden door at the end of the hallway, my heart pounding like a drum.

“Come in,” came a deep voice from the other side.

I pushed the door open and stepped into a room that felt like the command center of an empire. Jungkook sat behind a sleek glass desk, flipping through a stack of papers. For a second, he didn’t even look up.

When he did, I nearly forgot how to breathe. Okay, Y/N, you got this. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

Jungkook looked like trouble in the most devastating way. His jet-black hair was perfectly tousled, his sharp jawline seemed carved from stone, and his dark eyes locked onto mine like they could see right through me. The tattoos peeking out from the collar of his white button-up shirt only added to the effect.

“You’re late,” he said, leaning back in his chair. It was as if he was seeing right through me with his eyes. I felt uneasy.

I blinked. “I… I was told the meeting was at nine.”

“It’s 9:01.” His lips curved into a lazy smirk. “I don’t like people who waste my time.”

I swallowed the sharp reply rising in my throat. Instead, I forced a polite smile. “I’ll be sure to set my watch ahead next time, Mr. Jeon.”

His smirk deepened, and he gestured to the chair across from him. “Have a seat. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

I sat down, carefully placing my portfolio on the desk. The tension in the room was suffocating, but I opened the folder and spread out the designs I’d spent days perfecting. “These are the concepts I’ve prepared based on the rebranding brief.”

Jungkook didn’t even glance at the papers right away. Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his eyes sweeping over me like I was part of the presentation.

“You don’t look like the typical designer we hire,” he said, his tone casual but cutting. His eyes roamed over my blazer, and then focused back to my eyes. I wanted to hide so bad.

My jaw tightened, but I kept my voice steady. “And you don’t look like the typical CEO.”

For a second, something flickered in his eyes—surprise, maybe—but then he laughed. A low, quiet sound that sent a shiver down my spine.

“Touché,” he said, finally picking up one of the designs.

The silence stretched as he studied my work. My heart was beating so loudly, I was sure he could hear it. This job wasn’t just a step up for me—it was a chance to prove that I belonged here, even if every glance from him made me feel like I didn’t.

“This one’s decent,” he said at last, holding up one of the logos. “But it’s missing… something.”

“What kind of something?” I asked, forcing myself to meet his gaze.

“Danger. Boldness. It needs to make people stop and stare.” He set the paper down and leaned back again, his smirk returning. “Think you can deliver that?”

I straightened my shoulders, even as my palms felt sweaty. “I can deliver exactly what you need.”

His smirk widened, but there was something darker behind it now, something that made me feel like he enjoyed the challenge. “We’ll see, Y/N. Welcome to Jeon Enterprises. Try not to disappoint me.”

As I left his office, my hands were still trembling. Jungkook Jeon was everything the rumors said and more—arrogant, sharp, and utterly infuriating. I was here for a week already and this was my first time meeting him. I noticed he didn't introduce himself, and it was probably because he knew the influence he had on others and he was aware that people knew him. Here I was, being delusional that this company was treating their employes with care. How much I was lied to at that damn job interview? I had to get this through. It was my dream job.

Jungkook himself had an intimidating aura. But he wasn’t going to intimidate me. Not yet, anyway.

My first day at Jeon Enterprises started like any other, with a carefully curated outfit and a bundle of nerves. But by noon, I’d already realized that fitting in here would be like trying to squeeze into a size too small—it wasn’t going to happen smoothly.

It began with Tina.

Tina was my direct manager, the person who would oversee my work and, apparently, my every move. I hadn’t been in the bullpen of the design department for five minutes before she sauntered over, heels clicking against the polished floor like a countdown to doom.

“Y/N, right?” she said, her voice oozing faux warmth as her sharp blue eyes scanned me from head to toe.

“Yes, that’s me.” I smiled, trying to come across as approachable.

Tina didn’t return the gesture. Instead, she crossed her arms, her fitted designer dress emphasizing a figure that belonged on a billboard. Her blonde hair was swept into an effortless bun, and her makeup looked flawless, like she’d just stepped out of a high-end commercial.

“Cute,” she said, her lips curling into a smirk. “Well, welcome to the team. I’ll be honest with you—Jeon Enterprises isn’t for everyone. Things move fast here, and we don’t have time to coddle anyone.”

I nodded. “I’m ready to work hard.”

She raised a perfectly sculpted brow. “Good. Because I won’t tolerate sloppy work or excuses. If you can’t keep up, you won’t last long.”

Her words stung, but I forced myself to stay calm. “Understood.”

“Great,” she said, clapping her hands together. “I’ll let you get settled. Just make sure you don’t need too much hand-holding. Mr. Jeon has a thing for perfection, and I’d hate for your mistakes to reflect on me.”

Before I could reply, Tina turned on her heel and strode away, her confidence practically leaving a trail behind her.

A few hours later, I realized that Tina wasn’t just sharp with me—she was sharp with everyone. But when it came to Jungkook, her demeanor shifted.

The first time I saw them interact was during a brief meeting in the design area. Jungkook had stopped by unexpectedly, his presence sucking the air out of the room. Conversations died, heads turned, and people suddenly looked very busy with their screens.

Tina, however, wasn’t fazed.

“Mr. Jeon,” she said, her tone smooth as silk. She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, a move that felt almost rehearsed. “What a surprise. Did you come to check on our progress?”

Jungkook barely glanced at her. “Just passing through,” he said, his voice cool and detached.

But Tina wasn’t deterred. She stepped closer, her smile turning brighter. “If you have a moment, I could go over some of the new concepts we’ve been working on. I’d love your input.”

I watched from my desk as Jungkook’s gaze flicked to her, then to the designs she held out like an offering.

“No need,” he said, his tone as dismissive as it was polite. “That’s what I hired you for.”

Tina’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but she recovered quickly. “Of course. I just want to make sure everything aligns with your vision.”

Jungkook didn’t respond. Instead, his eyes scanned the room, landing on me. For a moment, his expression was unreadable, but I swore there was a flicker of amusement. Then he turned back to Tina.

“Carry on,” he said, already walking away.

Tina’s smile vanished the second he was out of earshot. She tossed the papers onto her desk with a huff, muttering something under her breath that I couldn’t catch.

She caught me watching and raised an eyebrow. “Something on your mind, newbie?”

“No, just…” I hesitated, unsure how to phrase it. “It seems like Mr. Jeon has high expectations.”

Tina snorted, crossing her arms. “High expectations? Please. He’s impossible to please unless it’s on his terms. But don’t get too comfortable, Y/N. He has a way of making even the most confident people feel inadequate.”

Her words felt like a warning, but I couldn’t help but notice the frustration laced with something else—something personal.

She wanted him. That much was obvious. And judging by the way Jungkook hadn’t given her more than a passing glance, it was equally obvious that he didn’t want her.

It wasn’t comforting, exactly, but it did make me wonder: What did Jungkook Jeon want?

I had a feeling I’d find out soon enough.

I left the executive's floor in haze, my head spinning from everything he’d said—and everything he hadn’t said. The moment I stepped out of the elevator and into the main lobby, the weight of the building seemed to come crashing down on me. I had just had my first meeting with him, the infamous Jeon Jungkook.

I couldn’t decide if I should be excited or terrified. Maybe both? I certainly wasn’t expecting him to be so… blunt. But that was Jungkook—no pleasantries, just cold, sharp efficiency wrapped in a dangerously attractive package. He hadn’t even tried to sugarcoat it when he said, “Try not to disappoint me.”

I shook my head, trying to shake off the sting of his words.

I could already feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on me, the quiet murmur of the office that seemed louder as I made my way through the hallways. I just needed to breathe.

Lunch. I should grab lunch.

But even as the idea of food settled in my mind, the thought of stepping into the cafeteria was daunting. The last thing I wanted was to deal with the cafeteria crowd, with their subtle stares, quiet judgments, and the inevitable whispers.

I paused for a moment outside the cafeteria door, my nerves tightening in my chest. What if people noticed? What if I was the topic of the next office gossip? I wasn’t ready for that.

Sighing, I turned to leave. That’s when I spotted two people standing near the entrance of the cafeteria, chatting quietly.

“Y/N?”

I froze. It was Hoseok, the Marketing Manager Rya, the Social Media Specialist in my Team. They both looked up at me, smiling warmly. I was being trained by Tina during the past week and I hadn't had the chance to meet anyone on my Team, everyone was busy with their job and I was busy not to cry at how dismissive I was being treated by Tina.

“Hey!” Hoseok called out, his voice friendly and easy-going. “Are you coming in? We’ve got a couple of spots open.”

I hesitated. They didn’t look like the typical crowd who’d pay attention to me. But still, my nerves gripped me. I wasn’t ready to be the center of attention.

Rya noticed my unease, her eyes softening as she flashed me an understanding look. “It’s okay. You’re not the only one who gets the cafeteria jitters.”

I let out a soft laugh, though it sounded awkward. “I… I was thinking about just grabbing something quick and heading back to my desk.”

“You’re not getting away that easily,” Hoseok teased, motioning for me to come over. “Trust me, the food here isn’t so bad. And we’re cool. You’ll be fine.”

Something about Hoseok’s warm smile and Rya’s welcoming attitude made the anxiety that had been eating at me for the past few days ease just a little. “Alright, fine. I’ll join you.”

I made my way over to their table, trying not to look at anyone else. The last thing I wanted was to feel like I was on display.

As I sat down, I noticed they were both already halfway through their meals, and the conversation seemed casual, almost like we had known each other for ages. Hoseok leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he gave me a sympathetic look.

“You’re probably wondering what it’s like working here, right?”

I blinked. “A little. I’m still figuring things out.”

“Well, don’t let it get to you,” Hoseok said with a grin. “You’re probably gonna hear a lot of rumors around here, especially about our wonderful boss.”

I froze. My stomach did a flip.

“You’ve probably heard some stories about him, huh?” Rya asked, her voice lighter than I expected.

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. A few.” I have heard whispers amongst the other employes at how he had slept with someone from their department and whatnot. How good he was in bed, bla bla bla. It was the usual gossip I tried not to pay attention to.

Rya exchanged a knowing glance with Hoseok before turning her attention back to me. “Well, we’ve worked here long enough to know the truth behind the gossip.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, giving Rya an amused look. “Don’t go spreading too many secrets now, Rya.”

Rya grinned. “Oh, I’m just telling her the truth.”

I couldn’t help but lean in, intrigued. “What’s the truth?”

Rya grinned, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “Well, first of all, Jungkook isn’t as terrifying as people make him out to be.”

“Really?” I said, surprised. “He seemed pretty… intense in our meeting.”

Rya laughed. “He’s definitely intense, that’s for sure. But he’s also complicated. It’s not like he’s always angry or anything. He’s just… cold. Detached. He doesn’t let people get too close.”

“He’s got a reputation for being a heartbreaker,” Hoseok added with a slight roll of his eyes. “And he definitely doesn’t tolerate mistakes. But don’t take it personally. He’s just obsessed with control. It doesn't matter if it's a job related or a person related.”

I let out a slow breath, still processing. “So, all the rumors about him being a womanizer… are those true?”

Hoseok shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. “He’s not exactly the type to settle down. But that doesn’t mean he’s out there dating every woman who walks through the door. He’s selective, you could say.”

Rya’s lips twitched, her eyes gleaming mischievously. “Selective is an understatement. He doesn’t seem interested in anyone but himself. Though, a certain someone might argue differently…”

I furrowed my brow, not entirely following her meaning. Hoseok picked up on it immediately and chuckled. “Rya’s just a little bitter. She’s been crushing on him for years.”

Rya’s face flushed slightly, but she didn’t back down. “I wouldn’t say crushing. Just admiring from a distance. He’s got this way about him that’s hard to ignore. But trust me, you won’t get anywhere with him. He’s not the type to let anyone in.”

I wasn’t sure if that made me feel better or worse. The idea of Jungkook being so emotionally unavailable seemed like a blessing and a curse at the same time.

“But hey, if you can get past his walls,” Hoseok said with a teasing grin, “you might find that he’s not as bad as people think. Just don’t go expecting him to hand out compliments like candy. He’s got a… very unique way of showing he’s impressed.”

“Yeah, by barely acknowledging you, if you’re lucky,” Rya added, her tone dry.

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. The tension that had been gripping me finally loosened.

“Thanks, guys,” I said, feeling a bit lighter. “This helps a lot. I didn’t expect such an… honest view of him.”

Hoseok gave me a wink. “We’re here for the truth, Y/N. Don’t worry too much about him. Just do your thing and keep your head down. You’ll be fine.”

Rya smiled warmly. “Exactly. And remember, we’re here if you need anything.”

I smiled back, the warmth of their kindness making my nerves a little easier to handle. Maybe, just maybe, I could survive this place after all.

It had two weeks since I’d joined the team, but it felt like I’d been here forever. Between the pressure of trying to meet everyone’s expectations and dealing with my own insecurities, the past few days had been a blur. But today? Today felt different.

I was sitting at my desk, trying to finalize a design for a new client, when I got an email: Urgent meeting, 2 PM. I glanced at the clock— it was nearly time. The butterflies in my stomach immediately turned into a storm of dread.

I didn’t know what the meeting was about, but something told me it wasn’t going to be good.

By the time I walked into the conference room, my heart was pounding. The entire team was gathered— Tina, Hoseok, Rya, and even some of the higher-ups were sitting around the long conference table. At the head of the table was Jungkook, looking every bit the part of the cold, calculated CEO he was. He barely even looked up as I entered, though the slight tension in the air made it clear something was wrong.

“Y/N, sit,” Tina said, her tone cool as she gestured toward an empty chair. I sat down quickly, avoiding eye contact with anyone.

“Alright,” Jungkook finally spoke, his voice sharp and commanding. He stood up, moving around the table like he was preparing to give a speech. But his gaze locked on me as he began.

“The client is not happy with the design.” His words felt like a slap to the face. “And do you want to know why?” He didn’t wait for a response, his eyes boring into me. “Because, Y/N, you thought it would be cute to add your little personal touch.” I saw him take the folder I had given to Tina to give to Jungkook. He slammed it on the table which made me flinch.

I felt my face flush as the room fell silent. I knew exactly what he was talking about—the last-minute design changes that had been added against my protests. I had tried to convince Tina not to add them, but she insisted. The change had been pushed through her decision, not mine.

But here I was, in front of everyone, being blamed for something I had no control over.

I opened my mouth to speak, to explain that the changes were not my idea, but Jungkook didn’t give me a chance.

“Look at this,” he continued, “It’s amateur work, Y/N. It’s embarrassing. This,” he said, pointing at the screen, “is what you think a professional design looks like?” His eyes narrowed. “It’s no wonder the client doesn’t want to move forward with us.”

I felt my chest tighten, every word hitting me like a ton of bricks. The weight of his insults pressed down on me, but I stayed quiet. I couldn’t speak.

Then, his voice grew colder, mocking. “And what’s this?” He pointed at the screen again. “You decided to add this ridiculous pattern—what, you thought it would make it look more ‘fun’?”

I wanted to sink into the chair and disappear. The whole room was watching me, waiting for me to respond. But how could I? What could I possibly say when Jungkook was tearing my work—and me—down in front of everyone?

“And don’t get me started on the layout,” he continued, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s all over the place. I mean, do you even have a vision of beauty?” he paused for a moment, "Because It's obvious you have absolutely no idea how beauty feels like. I mean, look at you. . . " he trailed off.

The words hit like a physical blow. I froze. The way he said it, so casually, made it feel like it was the least important thing to him. But to me? It felt like the world had just fallen apart.

“Maybe if you spent less time making things look good and more time doing your job, we wouldn’t be in this position,” he mocked, his eyes cutting into me. “You really think you deserve to be here?”

I could feel my heart racing, my breath shallow. The sting of his words—those last few—made my entire body feel cold. My hands clenched into fists at my sides, but I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t.

I just sat there, the weight of his words crashing down on me, feeling more exposed than I ever had in my life.

Jungkook turned away, finally seeming to lose interest in me, as he went on to talk about other aspects of the project. But I was no longer listening. The room felt like it was closing in on me.

I couldn’t look at anyone. I didn’t even want to be here anymore. But all I could do was sit in silence, my eyes trained on the table, willing myself not to cry.

The meeting dragged on for what felt like hours, but when it finally ended, I barely heard the chatter around me. I just stood up quietly and walked out, my hands trembling at my sides.

I didn’t know where I was going, but somehow, my feet carried me to the nearest bathroom. I locked myself inside one of the stalls, pressing my back against the door as the tears I had been holding back finally broke free.

I slid down the wall, hugging my knees to my chest, the words from the meeting echoing in my head. “You really think you deserve to be here?”

I didn’t know how long I sat there, crying silently, but I couldn’t stop. Every insult, every mocking tone he’d used to tear me down, was running through my mind on repeat.

Just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, I heard a soft knock at the door.

“Y/N? You in there?”

It was Rya’s voice.

I wiped my eyes quickly, trying to get myself together, but it was no use. I couldn’t hide the sobs that kept coming.

“Y/N, let me in,” Rya said, her voice soft but insistent. “It’s okay. Open up.”

I stood up and unlocked the door, only to find Rya standing there, her eyes full of understanding. Without a word, she stepped inside, closing the door behind her, and wrapped her arms around me.

“Hey,” she said quietly. “It’s okay. He’s an asshole. Don’t let him get to you.”

I buried my face in her shoulder, the tears flowing freely now. I didn’t care anymore. I just needed someone to tell me it wasn’t my fault.

“I… I didn’t even want to add those changes,” I whispered between sobs. “It wasn’t my idea. Tina—Tina pushed it. But he—he…” I couldn’t finish. I couldn’t bring myself to repeat what he’d said about my weight, about me.

Rya held me tighter. “I know. I know. And it’s not your fault. Tina did that on purpose, and Jungkook? He doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. He’s got his own issues.”

I sniffled and pulled back slightly, wiping my eyes. “But… the way he talked about me—”

“Forget him,” Rya interrupted gently. “He’s an idiot. A rich, spoiled idiot who doesn’t know how to treat people. You’re a damn good designer, Y/N. Don’t let him make you doubt that.”

I nodded, though it didn’t feel like it was enough. My mind was still reeling, but Rya’s words were a small comfort.

“I don’t know if I can go back in there,” I confessed. “I don’t think I can face him again.”

Rya gave me a small smile. “You don’t have to. But when you’re ready, we’ll be here. Just remember, you’ve got this. Don’t let one asshole ruin your day.”

I took a deep breath, nodding slowly. It didn’t fix everything, but it was a start.

Rya squeezed my shoulder before leaving the bathroom, leaving me to gather my thoughts. As I stood there, I realized one thing: Maybe it wasn’t about winning Jungkook’s approval. Maybe it was about not letting him—or anyone else—define my worth.

It had been a long, draining day at the office. My mind was still tangled with the aftermath of the meeting, Jungkook's biting words still echoing in my head. But I didn’t want to think about it anymore—not right now, at least.

“Come on, Y/N. You need a break,” Hoseok said with that signature grin of his as he tugged me away from my desk. “We’re going out for coffee. You’re coming with us.”

“I… I don’t know if I should,” I replied, glancing at the clock. “I still have some work to catch up on.”

“You’ve been working non-stop for hours,” Rya chimed in, appearing by my side. “It’s one coffee. We’ll keep it short. Besides, you deserve it.”

Reluctantly, I grabbed my bag and followed them out of the office. My shoulders were still tense from the meeting, but I figured a little break wouldn’t hurt.

We walked to the nearby café, a cozy little spot that seemed like the perfect place to relax. The warm scent of coffee beans and pastries filled the air as we stepped inside, and I immediately felt my mood shift. I could finally breathe.

“Alright, get whatever you want,” Hoseok said, waving a hand at the menu. “My treat. You need something sweet after today.”

I gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Hoseok. I’ll just get a latte, I think.”

Rya raised an eyebrow at me. “You sure? You’re not gonna go for something stronger? A double shot maybe?”

I laughed nervously. “No, I think a latte is good for now. I don’t need to be jittery today.”

We ordered our drinks, and as we waited for them, I found myself staring out the window, trying to calm my nerves. There was a weight on my chest that I couldn’t shake. The insults from the meeting were still gnawing at me, and it made my hands shake a little.

Hoseok and Rya must have noticed, because they both came to sit beside me with their drinks, offering me a sense of calm just by being there.

“So,” Hoseok started, his voice light, “how are you really doing? After the meeting?”

I sighed and rested my chin on my hand, glancing down at my latte. “I’m fine, I guess. It just… feels like everything is my fault. I didn’t want to change the design like that, but Tina pushed it through, and then Jungkook…”

Rya shook her head. “I told you, don’t take it personally. That was a power play, pure and simple. Tina wants to prove herself that she is the best one in front of Jungkook and Jungkook thrives on making people feel small.”

Hoseok agreed. “Exactly. Actually, now that I think about it, both of them got a way of tearing people down just to get what they want. You’ve just gotta learn to take it with a grain of salt. Jungkook’s an asshole, but he’s not the be-all, end-all."

I nodded, though the pit in my stomach didn’t entirely go away. I had always hated confrontation, and Jungkook's words felt like more than just critique. They felt like personal attacks, especially about my appearance. It was one thing for him to dismiss my design choices, but his mockery had stung in a way I didn’t know how to process. "Now that I think about it, Tina and him are more alike, I am confused he hasn't seen that yet.” Hoseok muttered and Rya slapped him on the shoulder in pure realization. "Holy shit, you are right!" I frowned. Were they actually? I wasn't here long enough to know that for sure.

Before I could respond, Rya spoke out, as if sensing my discomfort. “So, have you heard anything about Tina and her little antics?”

I frowned, looking between Rya and Hoseok. “What do you mean?”

Rya leaned in, her voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper. “Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Tina’s been all over Jungkook lately. Ever since you started, she’s been trying to get his attention, especially at meetings.”

Hoseok smirked, taking a sip of his coffee. “I think we all know what’s going on there. She’s not exactly subtle about it. But Jungkook? He doesn’t seem interested. He’s just… indifferent, which drives her crazy.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought they were close.”

Rya snorted. “Close? They’re business partners, that’s all. And Tina’s obsessed with the idea of him.”

Hoseok laughed softly. “He’s too much of a cold fish for that, honestly. I don’t think Tina’s figured that out yet.”

Just as I was about to respond, the door to the café opened, and a tall man stepped inside, scanning the room briefly. I didn’t pay him much attention at first, but then I noticed Hoseok’s eyes narrow and Rya stiffen beside me.

“Uh-oh,” Rya muttered under her breath. “Look who's here.”

Hoseok sighed, shaking his head. “Great. Just what we needed.”

I looked over at them, confused, and then turned to follow their gaze. The man I’d barely noticed at first was now walking toward the counter to order, and I couldn’t help but notice the aura of confidence he exuded—he had a way of moving that made people take notice. He was tall, with brown, disheveled hair and a piercing gaze that didn’t seem to care about anything or anyone. He was the type of guy who could make the world feel like his playground.

“You’re staring,” Hoseok commented, his voice amused.

“I’m not staring,” I muttered, feeling my face heat up. “Who is he?”

“That’s Min Yoongi,” Rya answered, her tone cautious. “He’s Jungkook’s best friend and his right-hand man.”

I blinked, surprised. “Oh? I’ve never seen him around before.”

Rya nodded. “He doesn’t usually come by the office unless something important is going on. But when he does show up, you’ll know.” She gave me a sly look. “He’s a bit of a troublemaker. A playboy. But don’t let that fool you—he’s got a mind like a steel trap.”

Hoseok snorted. “He’s definitely a sly fox, that one. Flirts with anything that moves, but doesn’t really care about anyone’s feelings. Except Jungkook’s, of course. They’re close. Too close, if you ask me.”

As Min Yoongi made his way over to a table near us, his eyes casually flicked over our group, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary on me. His gaze was sharp, but there was something playful in his expression as he took a seat. He didn’t speak to anyone, just settled in with his drink, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was the type to draw people in without even trying.

I couldn’t help but feel a little out of place—Yoongi had an air about him that seemed to demand attention, and I was suddenly aware of the fact that I was sitting here, sipping a latte, with two people I barely knew.

“Don’t get any ideas,” Rya warned with a smirk, noticing the direction of my gaze. “He’s not someone you want to get involved with. Trust me.”

I almost choked on my sip. "Are you crazy? That's inapropriate, firstly and secondly . . . he gives off Jungkook's aura so no thanks. Besides, he'd never notice me." I muttered, my shoulders slumped a little. There was something magnetic about him, but I wasn’t sure if it was the kind of attraction I needed to get mixed up in right now.

Hoseok’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. “Don’t worry. Yoongi doesn’t give a damn about anyone unless they’ve got something to offer him.”

I glanced back at him, still unsure of what to make of the situation. Min Yoongi was definitely intriguing, but not someone I was looking to befriend—especially not with everything going on with Jungkook and Tina.

“Let’s just focus on you for now,” Hoseok said with a wink, nudging me gently. “You’re our priority.”

Rya added, “And remember, we’re here for you. If you ever need anything, just say the word.”

I smiled at them, grateful for their kindness. The world felt a little less heavy with them around. But as I glanced back at Min Yoongi, I couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get a lot more complicated.

And that was probably just the beginning.

A month later since that fateful coffee break with Hoseok and Rya, and in the days that followed, everything had changed. The office felt colder, the walls seemed to close in tighter, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, even as I kept pushing myself to get through the day.

The worst part? Jungkook hadn’t said a word to me since that horrible meeting. Not a single word of apology, explanation, or even acknowledgment. He continued to pass me in the halls, his eyes cold, his expression distant. It felt as if I was invisible to him now—just a nameless face in the office. I was truly deluding myself that this man actually had morals at all. I was slowly starting to get to terms with that.

Meanwhile, Tina was thriving. Her behavior toward me had grown more insufferable. She’d openly paraded around the office, flaunting her "success" in getting the design changes approved and the "good work" she was supposedly doing with Jungkook. I could see the way she watched him, practically throwing herself at him every chance she got. Jungkook, of course, barely gave her a second glance. I was nor surpised that eventually, after Tina's involvments in my designs, something would happen with me and my position. This woman was jealous of anyone Jungkook paid the slightest attention to and it was pathetic. I was determined to focus on my improvement and work and not let anything distract me.

The office was particularly busy that day. There was a big client meeting happening, and everyone was on edge, scrambling to finish last-minute details. I was still trying to make sense of the mess I’d been handed—new tasks, new responsibilities, but all of them felt like punishment for something I hadn’t even done. I sat at my desk, my fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure where to begin. Every time I thought about how things had turned out, my stomach twisted.

“You okay?” Rya’s voice startled me, and I looked up to see her standing by my desk, her arms crossed.

I smiled weakly, forcing myself to sit up straight. “Yeah. Just… busy.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You sure? You’ve barely said anything since the last meeting.” Her tone softened, and she dropped her arms. “You’ve been keeping your voice down, and honestly, it’s a little concerning.”

I sighed, glancing around the office. Everyone was too focused on their work to notice what was going on with me. I had to keep it together. “I’m fine, really. Just… a lot on my plate right now.”

Rya studied me for a moment, clearly not buying it. “Listen, if you need to talk, you know I’m here, right?”

“Thanks, Rya,” I muttered, though I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the full extent of how I was feeling. I wasn’t sure if I had it in me to talk about everything—about Tina, about Yoongi, about Jungkook and how they were all acting like I didn’t even exist.

But before I could say more, there was a knock on the door, and Tina’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“Y/N! You’re needed in the meeting room right now.”

My chest tightened. I didn’t have a good feeling about this. But I forced myself to nod and get up, trying to ignore the flutter of panic in my stomach. As I walked down the hallway toward the meeting room, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was coming. Something that I wasn’t prepared for.

When I entered the meeting room, I was met with the usual suspects—Tina, Jungkook, and, to my surprise, Yoongi, who was standing at the front of the room, leaning casually against the table, a smug smile on his face.

“Y/N,” Jungkook said flatly, not even looking up from his laptop. “You’re late. Again.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly, feeling my cheeks flush. I didn’t need another reprimand today.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, observing me for a moment before turning his attention back to the laptop. “Tina, let’s move on,” he said, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “We don’t have all day.”

Tina nodded, a little too enthusiastically. “Right. So, Y/N, we’ve been looking at the latest design you’ve submitted. It’s… disappointing.”

I blinked. Disappointing?

I swallowed hard. “What? I—what do you mean?”

“We reviewed it carefully.” Tina flipped through a stack of papers on the table, not meeting my eyes. “And frankly, it doesn’t fit with what the client wants. I think you’ve really missed the mark on this one.”

I felt the sting of her words, but something inside me snapped. “That’s not true,” I said, my voice steady despite the growing panic in my chest. “I made the changes based on the client’s feedback. If there’s an issue, it’s with the last-minute adjustments—those weren’t my ideas. I didn’t want to change anything in the first place.” I glanced at Tina, who had her eyes glued to her papers, avoiding my gaze. “But you pushed for it.”

Tina’s eyes flicked to me, but she didn’t respond. Yoongi, on the other hand, didn’t look surprised at all. He raised an eyebrow and leaned back, his gaze never leaving me.

“You really think you can blame others for your mistakes?” Yoongi’s voice was calm but laced with sarcasm. “Nice try. But the bottom line is, you didn’t deliver. And that’s on you.”

I froze. This was what was happening? Everyone in the room had already made their decision. I could see the smug satisfaction on Tina’s face, the cold indifference in Jungkook’s eyes, and the subtle amusement in Yoongi’s expression. They were all waiting for me to crack, to fold under the pressure.

But I wasn’t going to give them that satisfaction.

“I did my job,” I said quietly, my voice unwavering. “I did exactly what I was told. If the design didn’t work, it’s because it wasn’t my choice to change it in the first place.”

There was a long pause. Yoongi’s smirk widened, as if he’d been waiting for this moment. He leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Tina’s right about one thing,” he said, voice low. “You’re not cut out for this job, Y/N. And after the client’s response, I think it’s time to make a few changes.”

My heart skipped a beat. Was I being fired?

Without giving me a chance to respond, Yoongi stood up. “Effective immediately, I’ll be taking over your responsibilities.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but nothing came out. I felt small, helpless, trapped in a situation that seemed to be spiraling beyond my control.

Then, just as I thought the world was closing in on me, Jungkook spoke, his voice cold and distant. “You’ll be working with him now. I’ll make sure you’re briefed on the new tasks later.”

I turned to Jungkook, but he didn’t even look at me. His gaze was focused on his laptop screen again.

I couldn’t breathe. I’d tried. I had really tried to keep my head above water in this toxic office, but now it seemed like it was all slipping through my fingers.

345 notes · View notes

pedroscowgirl · 6 months ago

Text

Unspoken desires

hugh jackman x afab!reader

Warnings: Smut, Minors DNI!

age gap (reader 20s, hugh is 55), angst (no bad stuff), p in v , creampie (wrap it up), choking, talking about feelings, daddy issues (again)

Words: 5.1k

A/N: You can read this separately but i imagined this as a part 2 of this fic that i wrote :) enjoy! (i have so much hugh in my concepts it's bad)

MASTERLIST

Weeks had drifted by since you and Hugh first began your casual sleeping together, and what had once been a whirlwind of passion had gradually settled into something more routine. The excitement of your initial encounters had softened into a comfortable familiarity. The chemistry was still there, moments together still brought a sense of warmth and pleasure but the raw spark that had once set your skin on fire was slowly dimming. You found yourself wondering if Hugh felt it too, or if he was simply going along with the flow, just as you were.

Today, you were set to see Hugh again, but this time it wasn’t just a private rendezvous. Instead of meeting privately, you were headed to a small gathering at his apartment to celebrate the overwhelming success of the Deadpool and Wolverine movie, which had just hit theatres and shattered expectations at the box office. It was a big moment for Hugh, and he was proud of the film, so when he invited you to join in the celebration, you didn’t hesitate.

Choosing an outfit for the occasion felt like a delicate balance,you wanted to look stunning, but also to pay homage to Hugh’s iconic role. After sifting through your closet, you decided on a little black dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. It was simple yet elegant, with gold accents that gleamed under the light, a subtle nod to the yellow of Wolverine's costume. You paired it with matching accessories,a gold bracelet, earrings that caught the light, and heels that made you feel confident with each step. As you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you couldn’t shake the feeling of anticipation mixed with a hint of uncertainty. This was more than just another night together, it was an event, a step into his world, however small.

When you finally arrived at Hugh’s apartment, the evening air was cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth you felt when you thought of seeing him. As you stood at his door, you took a deep breath, willing yourself to enjoy the night no matter what. The door swung open, revealing Hugh dressed casually but impeccably, his smile as charming as ever. The sight of him sent a familiar flutter through your chest, but as you leaned in to greet him with a kiss on the mouth, a gesture that had become natural between you, but he shifted slightly, his lips brushing against your cheek instead. It was a small, almost imperceptible movement, but it caught you off guard. The kiss on the cheek was friendly, almost distant, and you couldn’t help but feel a sting of disappointment. It was as if the shift you had sensed over the past weeks was crystallizing in this single moment.

Hugh pulled you into a warm hug, his hand lingering on your back, but the initial awkwardness of the missed kiss lingered in the air. As you stepped inside, you noticed the apartment was already buzzing with energy. Laughter echoed from the living room, where a few of Hugh’s close friends, including Ryan and Blake, were already gathered, drinks in hand. The atmosphere was lively, the kind of joyous occasion that should have made you feel welcome and at ease, but instead, a small seed of doubt had taken root in your mind.

You knew Hugh was a private person, especially when it came to his relationships. He hadn’t told anyone about the two of you—not even Ryan and Blake, who were like family to him. It wasn’t hard to understand why. Hugh had confided in you once, in a quiet moment after you’d made love, that he sometimes felt self-conscious about the age gap between you. He’d joked about being “too old” for you, but there had been a seriousness in his eyes that told you it wasn’t just a passing thought. It was something that lingered at the back of his mind, and now, it seemed like that insecurity was starting to manifest in small, subtle ways.

Despite the initial awkwardness, you resolved not to let it ruin the night. This was Hugh’s moment to shine, and you were determined to be there for him. You pushed the doubts aside, telling yourself that there was no need to overthink things. After all, this was supposed to be a celebration, not a night to get lost in your thoughts. You grabbed a glass of champagne from the counter, smiling at Hugh as you joined the others in the living room. The conversation flowed easily, and soon, you found yourself laughing along with the group, the earlier tension beginning to fade into the background.

As the night wore on, you caught glimpses of Hugh across the room, his eyes occasionally meeting yours with a softness that reassured you, if only a little. There were moments when he would come over, resting his hand on your shoulder or leaning in to share a private joke, and for those brief intervals, it felt like nothing had changed. But then he would pull away, drawn back into the conversation with his friends, and you were left wondering if he was purposely keeping a distance, or if you were just imagining it.

Even more time passed, and you found yourself deep in conversation with one of the crew members from the film. The discussion was engaging, he was sharing behind-the-scenes stories about the production, and you were genuinely interested, laughing at the amusing anecdotes he recounted. But despite the lively conversation, a part of your attention remained elsewhere. You couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had lingered since your arrival.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Hugh across the room. He was standing with a small group, his handsome face lit up with that familiar, heart-melting smile of his. But what caught your attention wasn’t the smile itself, it was the person he was smiling at. Beside him was a stunning blonde woman, who looked to be in her late forties. She was effortlessly elegant, with a confidence that matched her beauty. As she spoke, Hugh laughed, his deep, warm laughter carrying across the room. But it was the way he looked at her that made your heart drop. There was a softness in his gaze, an ease that you hadn’t seen in him in a while.

A pang of jealousy surged through you, sharp and unexpected. You knew you had no right to feel this way. Hugh was a free man now, having finalized his divorce about a year ago. It had been a difficult time for him, and you had been there to support him, offering comfort when he needed it. But now, seeing him with someone else, that rational understanding faded into the background, replaced by a raw, unfiltered emotion. You couldn’t help it, you loved him. It wasn’t something you had intended or even expected when you first started seeing each other, but the more time you spent with Hugh, the more you realized just how deep your feelings ran.

It felt strange, almost surreal, to acknowledge it to yourself. Hugh was a man who seemed to have it all—charm, good looks, kindness, and a genuine warmth that made people feel at ease around him. He was sweet to everyone, always the gentleman, and his sincerity was what drew you to him in the first place. How could anyone not fall in love with him? But knowing this didn’t make it any easier to watch him with someone else, especially when the woman beside him was clearly just as taken by his charisma as you were.

You watched as she leaned in closer to him, her hand resting lightly on his muscular arm, her fingers brushing against the fabric of his shirt. The sight made your stomach twist into knots. It was a casual touch, nothing overtly intimate, but it spoke volumes. Hugh didn’t pull away,instead, he smiled down at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you found so endearing. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, the room closing in around you as your mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions—jealousy, insecurity, fear. Did she know him better than you did? Was she someone from his past, or perhaps someone new who had caught his eye? The questions swirled in your head, unanswered and tormenting.

You suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder, pulling you out of your thoughts. One of the people in your conversation circle was looking at you with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice cutting through the noise in your mind. You forced a smile and nodded quickly as you tried to gather yourself. “I’m fine,” you managed to say, even though the words felt empty. But the last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself, especially when you were struggling to keep your emotions in check.

“Excuse me,” you added hastily, your voice barely steady. You needed to get away, to find a place where you could breathe and collect your thoughts. But the walls of the apartment seemed to be closing in on you, the lively chatter and laughter around you becoming overwhelming. And without waiting for a response, you turned and made your way toward the bathroom, your steps quickening as you navigated through the crowded room.

As you closed the bathroom door behind you, the noise of the party was muffled, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You leaned against the sink, staring at your reflection in the mirror with your heart still pounding in your chest. The image staring back at you was composed on the surface, but you could see the cracks just beneath, the vulnerability that you had been trying so hard to hide. It was hard to reconcile the feelings that had surged within you tonight. You hadn’t expected to feel so strongly, but now that you did, it was impossible to ignore.

The truth was, you didn’t just care about Hug, you were in love with him. And seeing him with someone else, seeing that look in his eyes that used to be directed at you, was a painful reminder that whatever you had was complicated and perhaps not as secure as you had hoped. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath and tried to calm the storm of emotions inside you. You knew you couldn’t stay in the bathroom forever, but for now, it was a safe haven where you could relax and decide how to face the rest of the night.

After a few minutes, you splashed some cool water on your face, hoping it would help clear your mind. The mirror reflected your slightly dampened makeup, but you quickly touched it up, not wanting anyone to see any sign of distress. You told yourself that tonight was about celebrating Hugh’s success, not about your complicated feelings. You could deal with those later, when you were alone and away from the prying eyes of his friends and colleagues.

When you finally felt composed enough to rejoin the party, you took one last deep breath and opened the bathroom door. The lively sounds of the gathering filled your ears again, and as you stepped back into the main room, you scanned the crowd, trying to locate Hugh without being too obvious.

And after trying to push through the rest of the evening with forced smiles and half-hearted conversations, you reached your breaking point. It was too much—the tension, the uncertainty, the way Hugh seemed so comfortable with someone else while you were left questioning everything. You decided you needed to get out of there, to put some distance between you and whatever this was becoming before you snapped in front of everyone.

Without saying a word, you started making your way toward the door, weaving through the remaining guests. You had almost reached the exit when you felt a strong hand wrap around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You turned sharply to find Hugh standing behind you, his eyes filled with concern and a hint of confusion.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his voice low but firm, clearly sensing that something was wrong.

You pulled your wrist from his grip, trying to avoid his gaze as you muttered, “I need some air.”

But Hugh wasn’t letting you go that easily. He stepped closer, his presence demanding your attention. “What’s going on? You’ve been acting strange all night. Talk to me.”

You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to admit what was really bothering you, especially when you knew you had no right to feel this way. But the frustration that had been building inside you all evening finally boiled over. You spun around to face him, your eyes flashing with anger.

“Nothing’s wrong, Hugh. I just need to get out of here, okay?” The words came out sharper than you intended, but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to leave before you said something you couldn’t take back.

Hugh frowned, not buying your answer for a second. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what’s really going on,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. He reached for your hand again, this time holding it more gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a soothing gesture that only made you more frustrated.

You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you from leaving. “Hugh, just let me go,” you snapped, but he didn’t budge.

“Come with me,” he said quietly, his voice firm but gentle as he guided you toward the hallway that led to his bedroom. You followed him, more out of exasperation than anything else, knowing that this conversation wasn’t something you couldn’t avoid any longer.

Once inside his room, Hugh closed the door behind you, shutting out the noise of the party. The silence between you was thick with tension as you stood there, your arms crossed, staring at the floor. Hugh watched you, waiting for you to speak, but when you didn’t, he finally broke the silence.

“Why are you so upset?” he asked, his voice softer now, as if trying to coax the truth out of you.

You clenched your jaw, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I’m not upset,” you lied, the words bitter on your tongue. “I just… I just don’t want to be here right now.”

Hugh sighed, stepping closer until he was right in front of you. He reached out, placing a hand on your chin and gently lifting your face so you were forced to look at him. “I know you better than that. What’s really going on?”

His concern and tenderness only made you angrier. You wanted to push him away, to run out of the room and forget this whole night ever happened. But the emotions you had been holding back finally broke free, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out.

“I saw you with her, Hugh!” you burst out, your voice shaking with frustration and hurt. “That woman, you were laughing with her, looking at her like she was the only person in the room. And I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I do. I can’t help it.”

Hugh’s eyes widened in surprise, but he quickly recovered, his expression softening as he realized what had been bothering you. “You think… you think I’m interested in her?” he asked, disbelief colouring his tone.

You didn’t answer, but your silence spoke volumes. Hugh let out a breath, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process what you were saying. “She’s just a friend,” he said, his voice calm but insistent. “There’s nothing going on between us. I was just being friendly,” Hugh said, his tone dismissive.

You let out a sigh, your eyes narrowing as you locked onto his. “I know what your 'friendly' looks like, Hugh. I’ve seen you flirt before.” He hesitated, the realization of your words sinking in. Finally, he sighed, admitting, “Alright, maybe I was flirting a little. But there’s nothing official between us, for fucks sake I’m twice your age, so why does it bother you so much?” His voice carried a hint of annoyance as he met your gaze, clearly frustrated.

And as the heated exchange between you and Hugh unfolded in his bedroom, the air thick with tension and unspoken emotions, Hugh took a deep breath, attempting to steady himself. Instead of matching your rising anger, he opted for a calmer approach, his voice measured and gentle.

"Listen," he began, his eyes searching yours earnestly. "I never meant to hurt you. I just thought... given our age difference, that this was something light, something fun for both of us. You have your entire life ahead of you. You should be out there, enjoying yourself, experiencing things with people your own age. Building a future with someone who can match your energy, your plans, your dreams."

His words felt like a cold splash of water, momentarily drowning the flames of your anger. But soon, a different kind of heat rose within you,a mix of hurt and disbelief. Tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you struggled to process his confession.

"So, you think this is just a fling for me?" you choked out, voice quivering. "That I'm just... passing time with you until someone my age comes along?"

Hugh looked pained, but he held your gaze. "I just didn't want to hold you back. I thought keeping things casual was best for both of us."

A tear escaped, trailing down your cheek. "Hugh, you idiot," you whispered, voice breaking. "I don't care about your age. I don't care about any of that. I care about you. Can't you see that?"

He reached out, gently wiping the tear from your face with his thumb. "I just didn't want to be the reason you missed out on experiences, on opportunities."

You shook your head intensely. "The only thing I'd miss out on is being with you. Can't you understand that? It's not about age or experiences. It's about how I feel when I'm with you."

Before you could even form another sentence, Hugh's lips crashed onto yours with a passion that sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body. His kiss was intense, all-consuming, and filled with a hunger that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. You could feel the urgency in the way he held you, his hands gripping your waist tightly as if he never wanted to let go.

Without breaking the kiss, Hugh swept you off your feet, his strong arms effortlessly lifting you from the floor. You clung to him, your heart pounding in your chest as he carried you over to the bed. There was something primal in his movements, a raw need that resonated deep within you. He laid you down with a surprising gentleness, as though you were the most precious thing in the world.

His hands moved to the zipper of your little black dress, slowly drawing it down with a deliberate precision that made your breath catch in your throat. The dress slipped down your shoulders, exposing your skin to the cool air, and he paused to admire the sight of you, his eyes darkening with desire. His fingers brushed over the bare skin of your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine as the dress slid further down your body, finally pooling around your hips before he removed it entirely.

You were now laid bare before him, and the way he looked at you made you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. He began to undress himself, his movements quick and sure, until his clothes lay discarded on the floor. The sight of him standing there, naked and aroused, was enough to make your mouth go dry. His body was a masterpiece, every muscle perfectly defined, his skin stretched over a frame that was the epitome of masculine perfection.

No matter how many times you had seen him like this, it never failed to take your breath away. He was all hard lines and powerful muscles, his presence dominating the room in a way that made you feel both safe and utterly desired. Why would you ever want anyone else when this man was right here?

Hugh’s eyes roamed over your body, drinking in every curve, every inch of exposed skin. There was a possessiveness in his gaze, an intensity that made your pulse race. He climbed onto the bed, his hands finding your body as he began to explore you with his lips. He started at your neck, his mouth hot and wet against your skin as he kissed his way down to your collarbone. He took his time, savouring each kiss, each caress, as if he wanted to memorize the taste and feel of you.

When his lips reached your thighs, he paused, lifting his gaze to meet yours. The look in his eyes was nothing short of predatory, and it sent a thrill of anticipation coursing through you. He leaned down, pressing his lips to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, and then he bit down, just hard enough to leave a mark. You gasped at the sensation, your body tensing in response as a wave of heat pooled in your core.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours as he ran his tongue over the mark he had just made. “This is all mine, isn’t it?” he asked, his voice a low, possessive growl.

A whimper escaped your lips as you nodded, your voice trembling with need. “Yes, it’s all yours.”

A satisfied smirk curled his lips, and he didn’t waste another moment. He positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs as he lined himself up with your entrance. He paused for a moment, just long enough to let the anticipation build, before slowly pushing inside. The sensation of him filling you was indescribable, a perfect blend of pleasure and intimacy that made your breath catch in your throat.

He moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm at first, each thrust deep and measured, as if he wanted to savour every moment of being inside you. The way he moved, the way he filled you, it was as if he was made for you, fitting perfectly into every curve, every inch of you. Your body responded to his in kind, your hips rising to meet his as you moaned softly, lost in the sensation of him moving inside you.

Hugh’s hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you closer with each thrust as he set a steady pace. His mouth found yours again, kissing you with a passion that left you breathless. The kiss was deep, his tongue exploring your mouth in time with his movements, and it only served to heighten the pleasure coursing through your body. The connection between you was electric, a tangible bond that made every touch, every kiss, feel like fire on your skin.

As the intensity grew, he shifted slightly, lifting one of your legs over his shoulder to angle himself even deeper inside you. The new position made you gasp, your nails digging into his strong, muscular arm as the pleasure became almost unbearable. He watched your reaction with a mix of satisfaction and desire, clearly enjoying the way he was making you feel.

“Look at me, baby,” he commanded, his voice rough with need. “Look at me while I make you feel good.”

You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze. The intensity in his eyes was nearly too much to bear, but it made your heart race even faster. His thrusts grew more urgent, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. The pressure was building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter with every movement, until you were teetering on the edge of release.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, his hand moved to your throat, his fingers wrapping around your neck with just enough pressure to make your breath hitch. The sensation was intoxicating, the mixture of dominance and desire sending you spiraling closer to the edge.

“Cum on my dick, babygirl. Now,” he growled, his voice thick with authority and desire.

It was as if your body responded to his command on instinct. Your orgasm crashed over you with a force that left you trembling, your entire body shuddering as waves of pleasure rippled through you. You cried out, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it, but Hugh quickly shushed you, his grip on your throat tightening slightly.

“Quiet, baby,” he murmured, his voice still rough with desire. “There are people here.”

But before you could fully recover from the intensity of your orgasm, he moved again, flipping you over and pulling you on top of him. His strength was evident as he guided you effortlessly, positioning you so that you were straddling him. “Ride me,” he demanded, his voice low and commanding.

Your legs were shaky, still trembling from the powerful orgasm, but he was there to support you. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you as you lowered yourself onto him once again. The sensation of him filling you was overwhelming, but he held you steady, his strong arms lifting you up and down as if you weighed nothing.

As you rode him, he kept his hands on your thighs, his grip firm and possessive. The pleasure built again quickly, the intensity of the position driving you both closer to the edge. You could feel him tensing beneath you, his muscles tightening as he neared his own release.

Just as you were about to cum again, he gripped your thighs tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrust up into you with a powerful, final movement. “Fuck, I love you,” he groaned, the words spilling out in a raw, primal cry as he came deep inside you.

The confession sent you over the edge once more, your body shuddering as another powerful orgasm ripped through you. You collapsed against him, breathless and spent, as the reality of his words sunk in. He loved you.

As the intensity of the moment slowly faded, you both lay there, breathing heavily, your bodies still tangled together. The reality of what had just happened, Hugh's confession of love, the intensity of your connection, began to sink in, and you found yourself overwhelmed with a mixture of emotions. You could feel his heart beating against your chest, the rhythmic thud steadying you as you processed everything.

Hugh’s arms remained wrapped around you, his hold strong yet gentle, as if he was afraid to let you go. He hadn’t said anything since his declaration, and you could feel the tension in the air. There was a vulnerability in the way he held you, as if he was waiting for your response, unsure of what you might say.

You lifted your head slightly, looking up at him. His eyes met yours, and in them, you saw a mix of worry and hope, emotions that mirrored your own. He reached up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender.

“I didn’t mean to say that,” he murmured softly, his voice still a little rough from the intensity of the moment. “It just… slipped out.”

You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, and it tugged at your heart. Hugh wasn’t the type to open up easily to you, to let his guard down, and the fact that he had done so now, meant more than words could express. But you also knew that he was scared, scared of what loving you might mean, of the risks it entailed, of the future that could be so uncertain.

“Did you mean it?” you asked quietly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Hugh hesitated for a moment before nodding, his gaze unwavering. “Yes,” he admitted. “I meant every word. I love you… but I didn’t want to say it like that. Not in the middle of—” He trailed off, clearly unsure of how to express himself.

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection for this man who had so completely captured your heart. “I love you too, Hugh,” you said, your voice filled with sincerity. “And I don’t care if it slipped out in the middle of… all that. I’m just glad you said it.”

His expression softened at your words, the tension in his body easing slightly. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment as if to seal the promise between you.

“I’ve been trying to fight it,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been telling myself that you deserve someone younger, someone who can give you a future… but I can’t fight how I feel anymore. I want to be with you, no matter what.”

Tears welled up in your eyes at his confession, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. All the doubts and fears you had been harboring seemed to melt away, leaving only the certainty that you wanted to be with him too, no matter what challenges might lie ahead.

“Hugh, I don’t care about any of that,” you said, your voice firm despite the emotion threatening to overwhelm you. “I love you, and that’s all that matters to me. We’ll figure everything else out together.”

His eyes searched yours, as if looking for any sign of doubt, but all he found was your unwavering commitment. A slow, relieved smile spread across his face, and he pulled you closer, holding you tightly against him as if he never wanted to let you go.

For a long while, the two of you lay there in comfortable silence, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s embrace. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you, connected in a way that felt deeper and more meaningful than ever before.

Eventually, Hugh broke the silence, his voice low and filled with emotion. “I want to do this right,” he said softly. “I want to take you out, treat you like you deserve. I want us to build something real, something lasting.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. “I’d like that,” you replied, your voice equally soft. “But right now, I just want to stay here with you.”

Hugh chuckled, the sound deep and soothing. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, his arms tightening around you. “We have all the time in the world.”

And with that, the two of you drifted into a peaceful, contented silence, the future ahead of you no longer filled with uncertainty but with the promise of a love that was as deep and enduring as anything either of you had ever known.

taglist (dm if u wanna be added): @ermlady @elloredef @haytchee @melaninjoys @megangovier @blue2jay @hearts4suri @narniabusinessbitch @jadenlyday25 @getmeoutofhell

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman smut #wolverine #wolverine smut #marvel smut #wolverine and deadpool #logan howlett #logan howlett smut #marvel

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risestarkiss · 1 year ago

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Being Big Red

Rise Ramblings #312

In “What Was Meant To Be” and “What They Became,” I discuss how the turtles were created by Draxum to be weapons and then how the boys were embraced by Splinter to be a part of the Hamato clan.

I also discussed how Splinter viewed television as a window into his former life. He used television as a means to drown himself in a never-ending cycle of reminiscing the past and mourning his former self.

Splinter’s crushing depression, though never voiced, impacted the turtles’ emotional growth and development. As a result, all four brothers had to cope with their father’s lack of attention and his expectations for their lives in their own way…

However, I believe that no one had more pressure placed on them than Raphael Hamato.

Raphael is naturally easy-going, sweet, fun-loving, and supportive. But, as the oldest/biggest turtle, he became the impromptu leader of their little team by default. Consequently, he takes on several different roles for the sake and well-being of his family.

Their day-to-day training regimen is directed completely by him.

He is the boys' moral compass and who they go to for guidance.

He's the team’s backbone, support, and backup, which often cumulates in him acting as a physical shield when things get rough.

And, most significantly, Raph is the leader even when he himself wants nothing more than to crumble to pieces.

Raph is so physically imposing, strong-willed, and devastatingly kind-hearted that it’s easy to expect these roles from him.

But, Raph is also just a child.

In reality, these roles should never have been Raph’s to bear…

Parentification is a process in which a child or adolescent is forced to act as a parent to their siblings (or to their actual parent) through providing emotional support (Emotional Parentification) or physical support (Instrumental Parentification) in order to maintain the household.

I believe that Raphael was subjected to both, but was especially subjected to the former.

All of the roles described above are the roles of a supportive parent to their children (or Sensei to their students.) To verify this claim, you needn’t look further than the roles that Splinter encompassed in any other iteration.

With Raph, none of this responsibility comes naturally. He has to work hard to live up to the pressures and expectations placed onto him, resulting in a dissonance between his responsibilities and his true nature.

I believe that you can see the evidence of this dissonance in his chosen form of dress.

Have you noticed that when Raph casually dresses himself, he mostly wears white?

Even Donnie picked up on this trend when he chose outfits for his brother in "The Clothes Don't Make The Turtle." (See "The Fashionista" for a full breakdown on Donnie's impeccable fashion sense.✨)

Yet, when Raphael is filling a role, or dressing to impress others, Red is his automatic go-to.

It’s almost as if the title of “The Red One” was not one that he chose, but one that was merely placed onto him.

But I digress...

Raph is able to be a pseudo-parent to his brothers and serves to fill in the gaps that their actual father could not fill. However, with no outlet for his own insecurities, all of that pressure had no relief.

And, if you understand chemistry, pressure, with no release, creates an explosion.

“Acting out” is an unhealthy defense mechanism in which one expresses their unacceptable feelings through physical actions.

In this case, the "unacceptable feeling" is disappointment, not at his brothers, or with his father, or with any external force, but with himself. And with no outlet and with no one to turn to for support, that disappointment turns into red hot anger.

He’s so disappointed with himself, in fact, that he reaches his breaking point.

Then finally, finally, he opens up.

And at long last, he gets the support he so desperately needed.

Thus, he is able to ultimately let it all go...

It's so lovely to see that his family does not disappoint.

○○○○

Next | Being Baby Blue • Being Purple ○ Part One • Being Purple ○ Part Two • Orange, Baby!

Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi

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beomie3 · 6 months ago

Text

txt on girlfriend day :3 (summer edition)

bf!txt x fem!reader (mostly fluff, some suggestive material)

⭐️ soobin

soob takes you camping!!

he is such a granola bf lolz, he literally knows everything about how to survive in the wild and you find it so attractive 🤭

he sets the tent up and lets you help him if you want, but mostly he wants his gf to relax in the shade, not overworking herself on her special day <3

"you deserve princess treatment every day of course," he pecks you on the cheek, interlacing his fingers with yours while you rock on the hammock together. "but today you are the queen of the entire universe!" he starts kissing your face everywhere and it soon escalates to a tickle fight.

once the tent is set up by the shore, you walk over to the dock which of course results in jumping into the lake together, fingers interlaced.

"three! two...!" and before he reaches one you're already running full speed towards the edge of the dock, pulling you along with him. you both reunite underwater, coming up for a breath only to meet your lips together and literally could not break them apart ^3^

after drying off, the two of you roast marshmallows as the sun sets, making smores for one another! he made you as many smores until your heart's content. "my baby needs to eat as much as she wants!" he loved seeing the look on your face when you took a bite like it was the best thing you'd ever tasted.

once it was dark and crickets chirped, the two of you got cozy in the tent under thick blankets, only the lantern's warm lighting illuminating his face as you looked into his dark brown eyes. he told you the story of the day he fell in love with you as he held you in his arms, his voice soothing you like no other.

a kiss turned into another, which turned into another, which then turned into a makeout, and then his shirt was off, and then the lantern was turned off and that's when you knew tonight would be an extra special night ;)

(currently working on turning this into a full fic! :P)

⭐️ yeonjun

junie takes you clothing shopping 😋

but first, he wakes you up with snuggles, (really passionate morning sex), and your favorite latte that he took the time to perfectly prepare before you awoke.

you both wear matching outfits ofc hehe.

he takes you to your favorite clothing stores. "get anything you want baby," he kisses the side of your neck before leaving the car and if you didn't have self-control you'd want him to rip your clothes off here and now :p

he always works so hard to be able to get you whatever you need and want, of course there is no problem spending it all on you!!

as someone with impeccable fashion sense, he helps you pick out some summer outfits that he had in mind.

he cannot contain his big grin when you walk out of the fitting room wearing the prettiest outfit ever! he is literally so grateful to have such a beauty like you <3

let's not forget, he also takes you to plenty of lingerie stores and you two have lots of fun there ;)

"this one is for tonight," you wink at him as you hold a red lace piece against your body and his mind goes to unexplainable places.

"can't wait to take it off of you," he whispers in your ear and the tension is already through the roof and you cannot wait to get home.

once you get home from dinner, you get straight to it and boy is it hot ;)

⭐️ beomgyu

you and gyu stay the weekend at your beach house :)

you two had met as kids and grew up together. you crossed paths because both of your families owned beach houses right next to each other! he was always the boy next door <3

anyway, it’s ten years later and you both now own one of the houses together as a vacation home. the two of you love to spend weekend getaways here!

you chase each other around the beach like you're young all over again, falling in love over and over and over again.

you go to the farmers market together and pick fresh groceries for tonight's dinner he is cooking for you :)

you get home, put a record on the turntable, and cook together. you sip red wine, slow dancing in the kitchen as the spaghetti noodles boil.

he serves your plate, carefully using spaghetti sauce to write "happy gf day baby <3" on the side of your plate and your heart melts.

dinner is so yummy and you eat it on the balcony, just watching the sun disappear beyond the horizon, feeling the damp ocean wind comb through your hair.

"you have some red sauce here!" you wipe his lip with your thumb and he wants nothing but to kiss you all over.

he carries you upstaris after dinner once the sun completely sets, laying you down on the queen bed you both share.

he wanted to do so much for you; run you a bath, give you a massage, sing you a song.. but right now, you could not keep your hands off of each other. your eyes said it all.

"i want to show you how much i love you," he whispered against your lips as he pulled you down down into the sheets with him.

(this is a snippet of the full version i've been writing that will be published soon!)

⭐️ taehyun

terry takes you to the national art museum in the city because he knows how much you love going to museums with him <3

he takes the cutest candid pics of you while you marvel over the paintings, sure to post them on his instagram and send them to his family🥺

he takes you out for boba after because how can it be a perfect day without boba??

plus he loves hearing when you compare his large shining eyes to boba pearls hehe.

you walk around a quaint park holding hands, stopping inside little shops and simply enjoying your time together.

he stops at a bench under a tree to get something from his bag. "i have something for you," he holds something behind his back. your face grows hot, stomach twisting with the question of what it might be.

he stretches out his hand, holding a small box, opening it to reveal a pink, sparkling promise ring. "i want to be with you foreve-" he barely gets his words out before you've jumped into his arms, squeezing his strong frame as hard as you could.

tears stain your cheeks. you cannot contain how grateful you are to have such an amazing boy in your life <3

" i want to be with you forever, tae," and you share the sweetest kiss. he's sure to take over 100 pictures of you with your new sparkly ring on too :)

⭐️ huening kai

kai takes you on a drive but you have no idea where he is taking you!

the car ride consists of you blasting music and singing your hearts out, listening to his amazing vocals. you could seriously listen to him sing all day.

you arrive at the spot; atop a tall hill and looking over the entire city. its golden hour, the sun is starting to set and he looks so beautiful in the orange-yellow light.

"close your eyes!" he yells once he leads you out of the car and you hear him rummaging around in the back seat.

you open your eyes when he tells you to as he pops open the trunk of his suv and behold! the cutest arrangement of things decorate large space.

fairy lights adorn the sign he made you reading "happy girlfriend's day to the best girl in the entire planet and universe!!!" with a bunch of colorful hearts and cute emojis he attempted to draw.

there are pillows and blankets and a basket of your favorite candies. he also got you plushies and packed a picnic of your favorite fast food because he just had to.

the two of you sat in the trunk eating an arrangement of your favorite food, candy, and soda. a bit unhealthy, but it’s your special treat that he knows you had been craving it the entire week.

after eating, you lay on top of his car watching the stars, sharing little kisses and giggling over inside jokes.

he hands you a small jar in which you discover holds tons of little pieces of paper. you read them one at a time. your eyes begin to well.

he had written over 100 different things he loves about you on each piece of paper.

"kai," you look at him, tears welling your eyes.

a million i love you’s are what you expressed through the tightest embrace.

note: each and every one of you are so so special, treat yourself to a little something today :) here is a little treat, i <3 you!! also, please let me know if you’d like me to turn any of these into full length stories💓

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forlix · 1 year ago

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𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 !・h.h.

— you’re just trying to do your job; your client has other ideas.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬・1.3k 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠・idol!hyunjin x gn!makeup artist!reader 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬・very suggestive so mdni, reader implied to be shorter than hyunjin 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐬・fluff, flirting, humor, big fwb vibes

𝐚/𝐧・this took me less than half an hour to write i am actually the biggest sucker for this trope. also, we hit another milestone recently!! i appreciate all of you immensely; look forward to more ♡

[!]・hi hey hello as of one month later a full-length fic based on this au has been posted!! here it is; you can read the two in any order. ok bye much love

“Five ‘til!” A crew member calls into a walkie-talkie, and you’re so surprised by this information that you stumble right over him, your heel ungracefully ramming into the poor man’s toes.

You apologize hurriedly, bowing yourself out of the awkward situation—and then you check your watch. 7:55 P.M. A quiet "shit" leaves your lips as it dawns on you that you'd completely lost track of time.

Briefly, you contemplate your predicament, drumming the palette of makeup you’re holding in your right hand against the palm of your left: do I have to? Is it really necessary? But you know your answer even as you’re asking yourself the questions. You’re damn meticulous—sometimes to a fault, but always to your own satisfaction.

You had a vision, and you’re going to see it through.

With impeccable timing, your coworker appears out of nowhere, and you fasten a hand around her arm. “Hey, where are the members again?”

“Stage left.” Then she registers your question in full, and snaps her eyes to your face; stylists were supposed to have finished up with their respective members nearly an hour ago. “Hang on, are you out of your mind—”

“I won’t be a minute!” You call, scurrying away.

“You won’t be employed!” She returns, but you’ve already disappeared into the curtains’ dense shadows.

You jog a short distance, turn a few corners, and finally spot the eight members clad in outfits of varying amounts of silver and black, every inch of them so sparkly that they’re reflective, even with how little light reaches this part of the stage.

You’re looking for one man in particular, though, and you single him out right away: long, black locks falling into his eyes as he adjusts his microphone, broad shoulders and tall frame flattered perfectly by an obsidian suit, looking like he fell off a Paris Fashion Week runway and into a wormhole that teleported him to Osaka.

All your doing, by the way.

“Hwang Hyunjin!” You shout, and he (along with several of the other members) whips around at the sound. And Hyunjin furrows a perfect brow when his stylist materializes before him, four minutes to curtain up, wielding a palette of makeup like it’s a baseball bat.

“Are you out of your mind?” He calls.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” You lift a pointer finger into the air and curl it twice. “Come here. Hurry."

Hyunjin gives the others an apologetic glance before hurrying over, and you are met with a blast of Byredo Blanche when he arrives in front of you, the expression on his face equal parts amused and confused.

“Down,” you say, flicking open the eyeshadow palette with one hand.

And then Hyunjin understands. A loud, uninhibited laugh leaves his lips, a sound you’ve become so accustomed to by now that you’re completely oblivious to the fact that only you bring it out of him.

“You really are something,” he says, spreading his feet apart until he’s brought himself to your eye level.

With that, you get to work, one hand gathering some eyeshadow on the pads of your fingers, the other moving to hold his shoulder. Brushes are luxuries you can’t afford right now.

“Close your eyes,” you direct, your voice softer now that your face is only inches away from his, and Hyunjin heeds your words obediently. You begin to dab the crimson powder against the curve of his lids, careful to avoid messing up the rest of his eye makeup. His lashes flutter involuntarily at your gentle touch.

“A shadow to match the lip,” you murmur absently. “I pictured it and knew it had to happen."

Hyunjin makes a sound of approval, and then there is that smirk on his face, the one you’ve learned only means trouble. “You’ve been thinking about my face the whole night, then?”

“No. I’ve been thinking about whether vegetables can feel pain,” you deadpan. “Yes, I've been thinking about your face. It’s my job.”

“Is that all?”

“Sure is.” You blow gently on his finished eye and move on to the other. “Now save your voice for the stage.”

He obliges, but that dreadful, self-assured expression remains on his face, and you're immeasurably grateful that he can’t see the blush that you’re well aware paints your cheeks.

“Done,” you say a minute later, straightening with a confident flourish. And you think you could squeal when Hyunjin opens his eyes, and you see that the exact effect you’d hoped for has been realized: a splash of maroon that is both subtle and seductive, sleek and suave; that not only accentuates the shape of his eyes but pulls attention to his lips, which are dyed a similar hue. Damn, you’re good at your job.

“I don’t have a mirror,” you say, looking around. “I can use my phone if you want to—”

“It’s fine,” he says. “I trust you.”

You grin at this. “Good. Because you look sexy as hell."

Upon hearing your words, he straightens to his full height. You don’t think much of this at first, too busy re-examining the masterpiece you’ve created on his eyelids, but in the blink of an eye you’re suddenly aware that Hyunjin is standing conspicuously and intentionally close to you. You instinctively move away, but you’re too late; he’s already guiding your back to the wall behind you, his body enclosing yours against the smooth surface.

You send a panicked look over Hyunjin’s shoulder, only to realize that the two of you are completely out of anyone’s line of vision. That doesn’t stop the sharp hiss that leaves your lips: “Hyunjin, are you cr—”

But then there is a familiar gust of breath against your skin, a thumb over your cheekbone.

He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself when you get like this; all bossy and concentrated, an ambitious glint in your eyes, an air of confidence in your gait. He always thinks it’s ironic that your job is to make him look good when all he’s ever done is admire your beauty, so effortless and profuse that it feels timeless, like freshly bloomed forget-me-nots.

He knows he shouldn’t—but that makes him want to more.

When your lips meet, they move together with an ease and familiarity that reveal how many times you’ve done this before. He brings a hand to the small of your back, and you tangle your stained fingers in his luscious hair, the delicious pressure of his mouth upon yours rendering your reluctance (and the eyeshadow palette, which clatters noisily to the floor) momentarily forgotten.

As the kiss deepens, the bridges of your noses slide together; your every sense becomes overwhelmed by the slippery plush of his full lips and the warm caress of his large hands; you drink in the rosy musk of his cologne like your cells need it to live as opposed to oxygen. The tip of Hyunjin’s tongue teases the seam of your lips, as if requesting access, and you grant it to him with a light moan that is both blissful and thoroughly exasperated. When he hears the gorgeous sound, he has half a mind to scoop you up and leave the venue then and there.

Then, a voice bellows from not too far away: “One minute, everyone! Places, places!”

You’re so startled that you not only break away from him but jump a meter into the air, giving Hyunjin’s bicep a hearty slap on your way down. But he is entirely unbothered, dipping his head to press a trail of light kisses along your jaw instead.

“You’ll be watching the performance, yes?” He murmurs against the sensitive skin.

“Of course, what else—”

“—don’t take your eyes off me.”

And the words throw your heart against your ribs like uncooked French fries in a vat of oil.

He is just about to walk away when you realize how decidedly disheveled you’ve left him, and you yank him back to you with a fresh wave of panic. You wipe at his smudged lipstick with the cuffs of your sleeves; nitpick his hair until every strand is back in its proper place. Only when you’ve gotten rid of all the incriminating evidence do you permit him to leave.

“Thank you very much,” he says, bending into a gracious bow, the perfect image of professionalism. The facade is given away only by the upturned corner of his still-flushed lips.

“Break a leg,” you return drily.

The last thing you hear is that stupid, bright laugh before Hyunjin rejoins his members, and they step into the strobe lights together.

Even when the concert begins and the stadium is drowned in fanatical screams, the heartbeat in your ears remains the loudest sound of all—and you bury your burning face in your hands.

Hwang Hyunjin will be the death of you.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support ♡

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slippi-the-magos · 2 months ago

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Lap sitting hc for most of the traitor primarchs and Big E

Premise:

The primarchs are out of armor

The primarchs have some degree of affection for you

Angron: Janky, hot, broken massage chair

Too hot. The thrum of superhuman hearts, jacked up from perpetual rage buzz in your ear

He's also too tense, constantly bouncing his leg and jostling you

Despite the Butcher's Nails, Angron tries to tolerate you, just don't make any sudden movements.

You're practically a therapy animal so focus on keeping your breathing calm

He squeezes you like a stress ball, it doesn't hurt too bad.

Despite the previous point, Angron would loathe to keep you against your will. You're allowed to get up and leave freely. The same can't be said for some other primarchs

Perturabo: The complaining workbench installed with an Abominable Intelligence assistant that hates his own existence

There are too many tools in his pockets. And no, it's not because he's happy to see you

He sometimes hunches down and squashes you to the worktable

He'll explain the intricacies of his work, begrudgingly, if you show interest. Praise his work and earn an indifferent huff

Perturabo also complains about you breathing on his work. He WILL also pinch you if you squirm too much

The worst bit is hearing his self depreciation. Perturabo is his worst critic and sooner or later it wears on you

Fulgrim: Private box seat to the world's most elaborate gallery

He smells so nice, and his posture's impeccable so you can lean your back comfortably enough. His hair tickles though

He will tuck you into the crook of an arm and read out books or poems

Sometimes Fulgrim asks your opinion on certain artworks. Art is subjective and opinions, even those of a simple human, are something to consider

He often spends his time quietly muttering over treatise and speeches sounding them out

The worst part is when he's creating his own art. Completely immersed in his craft, Fulgrim forgets you're on his lap. Launching you off your seat multiple times, before he shoos you out or sets you atop somewhere else

Snakegrim however, has an extra pair of arms to hold you, keeping you from slipping off his smooth scales.

As a snake his body temp is cooler, a small boon considering you're now forever tangled in his scaly coils

Mortarion: Creaky rocking chair, covered in rot and moss

You can hear his bones creak every time you sit on his lap

His joints are so pointy it feels like your sitting on a waterbed full of tree branches

He doesn't push you away, in fact he's content to let you sit quietly as long as you don't annoy him.

He outfits you in protective clothes when he's doing more dangerous experiments, adjusting you on his lap with a large hand so you don't get in the way.

After Nurgle hits Mortarion with the plague beam, he'll pull you off of him if you so much as sneeze, in concern of your own health

Mortarion, with Nurgle's blursing smells natural like sweet loam, dirt and fetid rot, before he used to smell like chemicals.

Something always rubs off of Mortarion and onto you when you sit on him

Magnus: Big red armchair

Very big relaxed muscles=really comfy and warm

Magnus is content in flaunting his powers to float rather than to sit like a fucking plebian. So you end up curled up on his torso instead

Magnus spends hours, even days poring over sorcerous tomes, chanting under his breath. This is relaxing and often very boring, you find yourself drifting into sleep or reading your own books.

Whenever you praise Magnus on his studies, his genius... he basks in the praise with no false humility and his massive ego is further inflated.

You're given the task of pointing out the rare intruders crawling out of the warp, hapless and unfortunate enough to reach you two

Magnus internally battles the impulse to use you as a test subject. His curiosity is an urgent need to satisfy and you're just conveniently present

Konrad: Nightmare pain throne of discomfort

Cold clammy skin textured like sharkskin, the scent of blood, the stringy muscles under your ass...you almost wish Kondrad would sit on you instead

Only Konrad gets squirming privileges

He will scratch and poke you with his claws for fun

His lap is a splash zone for whenever Konrad decides to flense his victims sitting down. You get a good facefull of bodily fluids. Konrad offers to lick it off

Only Konrad gets to decide when you sit or get down from his lap

There's riding the tiger and then there's riding the Night Haunter. The later is much more perilous

Lorgar: To sit on a wooden bodhisattva's lap

Lorgar smells like agarwood and incense but he feels like a wooden school chair

Lorgar's posture is too rigid and you have to sit stiff, though he's very patient with you fidgeting around.

His chants and hymns are calming and he is willing to read certain scriptures to you

Meditating together is a good experience, but falling asleep on his lap wouldn't be advisable, you'd get an aching back when you wake up from the rigid position

Big E: The golden couch.

He manspreads and you fall through his thighs. You crack your noggin on the golden footstool

Big E suggests strapping you in a golden baby bjorn

Fuck no. You've got dignity to maintain

You have to share your seat with at least two, sometimes three other people

Erda is pleasant company when she's not arguing with big E

Constantine Valdor is silent but his golden armor reflects the blinding E- light right into your eyes. No he will not move, this is the optimal position to gague threats should they present themselves.

Malcador often leaves the seat sticky...with...residues.

#wh 40k #primarch #emperor of mankind #angron #fulgrim #mortarion #magnus the red #konrad curze #lorgar aurelian

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kkuzushi · 9 months ago

Note

Haii! Ive read your sub Heizou fic and omg... I kept thinking about scaramouche while reading it. I've also taken a liking to your page! Your writing is soo goodnendksjdnxw sub scaramouche fic when? 🥰🥰🎀🎀

(I feel like in going to interact with your page alot so can I be 🎸 anon? >_<)

“ 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 ”

✦ 𝗰haracters: sub!scaramouche x dom!reader

✦ 𝗰w: mirror sex (at the end), implied orgasm denial, implied overstimulation, slight choking, cock can be interpreted as strap

✦ 𝘄ord count: 1.02k

✦ 𝗻otes: You’re always welcome to my page, lovely 🎸. This is written especially for you. <3

It became a routine for Scaramouche to send pictures of himself when wearing different outfits. It was just a time to time update, like you had asked, but he had gotten unexpectedly used to it.

For a man who has impeccable fashion taste, you would always shower him with compliments with every picture he sent—because of that, he saw it as a way to get your attention.

As usual, you received a notification from Scaramouche and it was a mirror shot. The picture was enough to make you smile but what took your attention was the message he sent after it.

"It's been a week, when are you coming over?"

Scaramouche had gotten clingy as well after establishing a relationship.. or maybe there's something he's after.

"My schedule's packed for this week, maybe by the end of the month we get to spend time again."

You replied, which he immediately read. It took a while for him to respond as it turns out, he was preparing another picture for you. Only this time, his shirt was lifted up, his teeth biting on the fabric to expose his stomach.

"How about right now?" He sent with the picture.

You could almost read where he's going along with this but you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

After a few back and forth bickering, his pictures and messages had only gotten more and more explicit.

"My bed's missing you."

"Wanna show me what 34+35 is equal to?"

"Something wants to be filled and it's not my expectations."

If only he knew how much you actually wanted to rail him right now. If your schedule wasn't so packed, you'd be having your way with him.

Though who said you can't? It didn't take long for you to arrive at his place, a sight you could never get tired of unfolding right before you.

Scaramouche's nails clawed your back, almost holding for dear life as you mindlessly pounded him to oblivion.

"Wait..! Too full~!!" His grip around you tightened as he squealed with every thrust you give him.

"For someone so teasing, you sure can't take a lot," You commented, grabbing his thighs to push back, spreading it out even more.

Scaramouche's eyes narrowed down at you, biting his lips gently before speaking, "I didn't expect that simple words would provoke you."

His statement made you chuckle before closing the distance between the two of you. His legs spread apart as you pushed your cock all the way inside, resting close to his prostate, making him squirm from the sensation.

"It didn't provoke me, Scara," you cooed to his ear, "It only motivated me."

Before he could respond, you bucked your hips, finally hitting his prostate. Scaramouche's eyes widened as he lets out what could only be described as a scream.

"ngAHh~!! ♡ ♡" His back arched from the sudden thrust to his prostate, a hoarse moan was forced out of him, eyes rolling back from the pleasure.

Your back has been marked to the core by his nails, it was painful yet you enjoyed the feeling—after all, it was the result of having your way with him.

Scaramouche's thighs starts to tremble, his head rolling back as moans after moans stream out of his throat.

Just the way his body reacts to his prostate getting abused turned you on, how could you ever get tired of fucking this man?

"Do I fuck you good, Scaramouche?" You grunted, hands on his waist to keep yourself moving on the same pace. The only answer given to you were mewls, poor Scaramouche can't even think properly as he seems to be seeing stars now.

"aH~ aH!~ goofmgnh~ sho goodddh~!! ♡" A few minutes after your question, Scaramouche starts to ramble, his tongue lolling out of his mouth with every word he says.

His cock was leaking precum, spilling all the way to his thighs. If he wasn't so focused on having your permission, he would've finished since then—but only good boys get that, right?

The sound of skin hitting skin was loud as you fucked Scaramouche harshly yet his moans were still louder than anything else. His pretty body was filled with fresh bitemarks and hickeys, even on places that's exposed easily. Not to worry, he won't be complaining anytime soon.

"fuck..! fuck! mnghah..!" He squealed as he watched your cock disappearing with every thrust you give, almost like his hole was sucking it in. His inner walls tightened, receiving a moan from you, "hagh- g-gonna cum!~ ♡"

His words served as a signal as you swiftly changed his position, turning him around to make him face his bedroom mirror. Scaramouche's eyes widened after realising your intentions.

"N-not like thisfhAHH~♡♡!!" Words were cut once his felt your cock fucking him in a rougher pace. You pinned his hands on his back, your free hand crawling up and wrapping around his neck so tenderly.

"Look at yourself as you cum," You whispered to his ear, your eyes staring at his in the mirror. The way you talked to him didn't help, everything was deliberately turning him on, his back arching further as he felt his body grow weak.

He was close, so close to finishing. Scaramouche knew that if he disobeyed this one last command from you, it's back to square one. His eyes never left the mirror, scanning the way his body gets pounded by you. The sight alone was making him scream in pleasure.

"mngha- cummi— i'm cummingghhaHH~!! ♡♡♡" Scaramouche's eyes rolled back, a long moan flowing out his mouth as his cock squirted cum all over the place, even reaching the mirror.

Once the white fluid stops spilling out of him, his volume decreased. What could only be heard now are heavy pants from him, his chest heaving with every breath he took.

"We're not yet done," his eyes widened once more as he hears you speak down to his nape, "You still have to make me cum, remember?"

Exhaustion has never felt this pleasing, Scaramouche knew he was in for a long night, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

#Genshin Impact #genshin impact #Genshin #genshin #genshin x reader #sub scaramouche #kunikuzushi #sub kunikuzushi #scaramouche x reader #sub scara #sub scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin scara #smut #smutfic #the balladeer #wanderer #modern scara #modern scaramouche

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hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 10 months ago

Text

Semi-Final Two

Propaganda...

Mr Knightley (2009):

Johnny Lee Miller as Knightley is JUST SO. I mean the way he says "if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more" IS JUUUST. The dance scene. The tentative shy smiles. The fact you can see in his eyes the entire time " I am completely in love with this woman. She'll never love me back BUT I DO NOT CARE I'LL LOVE HER FROM A DISTANCE ANYWAY" IS JUUUUUUST

We need to appreciate Mr Knightley more for both his snark and for those soft eyes just so full of love for Emma

GIF by dearemma

I was just going to send in the actual dance but the little panic he has when Emma says she knows his secret is just soo charming. There was some thread on twitter a few years ago about how a romcom man's most important quality is knowing how to look at a woman and JLM is just the master of it in this Emma

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I really feel like the pictures say it all. He stands there, head tilted to one side. He is listening to you. His posture is relaxed. His gaze open, frank, candid. He's not trying at all. He just is.And that's why he is Knightley.

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Some propaganda, not just for Jonny Lee Miller, but the general interpretation of 09 Knightley. I have some excerpts here from my review of the 09 adaptation:

What I really think is great about the 2009 interpretation of Mr. Knightley is what an easy and comforting presence he is, without being apologetic when he scolds Emma. I think this is communicated especially well by how often we are actually shown Mr. Knightley taking his almost-daily walks to Hartfield, how smoothly he comes and goes, and how happy Emma is every time she sees him coming up the path (usually, just at the perfect moment when she needs something to put her back to rights.)

Here is Emma, feeling lonely after Miss Taylor's wedding. And in the background, walking up to Hartfield--there's Knightley. He's always been there for her, and he always will be.

And also this Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight this outfit and why I love it: This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding of her home.

Additionally, Jonny Lee Miller captures Knightley’s playful qualities, and his exasperation is so endearing

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I can’t be the only one tickled by this Knightley’s frustration with Emma! JLM FTW!

Jonny Lee Miller is mesmerizing in any role he inhabits. It’s 2009 Knightly all the way.

no but can you actually go vote for mr knightley he was FOUNDATIONAL for 16 year old me my favourite portrayal of my favourite austen man cannot fall at this hurdle!!!

He is my ultimate Austen Dream Man, I'm with him until the end. Honestly this adaptation is my very favorite of them all (P&P 1995 is a VERY close second) because it made me fall in love with Emma as a story? Honestly no other adaptation or indeed even my reading of the book made me love it quite as much. My crush on JLM goes back to 1995 and I do think he is one of the better actors of his generation - his range alone is just impeccable. The fact that he can go from Sick Boy to Mr. Knightley to Sherlock to Jordan Chase is really something. Of all the actors I know, his range is the most impressive. But i love how bright and sunny this adaptation is. The colors, it is as vibrant as Emma should be! The Kate Beckinsale Emma is dark and terrifying to me, not at all suitable an adaptation. I like the Paltrow Emma a lot, but it's got the same issue the 2005 P&P has for me -- it's just too short. This is tonally just right, and the casting is lovely, and JLM is just at his dashing best. His face is so expressive, he is so capable of communicating so much without saying a word. His open jealousy of Frank Churchill is delightful to watch. His face when Emma tells him his secret is out at the ball! JLM is maybe the most underrated actor of his generation and I LOVE that he has been multiple Austen heroes. I maintain that in a future adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, an older JLM would make an EXCELLENT Mr. Bennet. He would convey the right amount of grumpy but fond beautifully.

Look. Do people realize JLM hates wearing period clothing AND hates dancing? And yet in Emma he's sashaying around in pink jackets looking amazing and is THAT convincing? That's called BRILLIANT ACTING!!

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A tiny bit of Mr Knightley 2009 propaganda but I love that they put in that bit from the book where he looks like he's going to kiss Emma's hand when he's saying goodbye but then he hesitates and doesn't and I just...it's such a tiny detail but conveys so much!

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It’s the only Emma adaptation that really hits the romance notes well. Knightley’s crowning moment of awesome really feels like it (when he rescues Harriet from humiliation) and his subsequent dancing with Emma does make you feel a shift in their relations. Love this adaptation. - This Knightley and Emma in particular are equals. They quarrel, not because he’s telling her off, but because they can have an argument because they know each other, trust each other and care about each others opinions, and there is never a sense of domination of one over the other. This adds so much fire to the romance, and it’s so unusual for a romance of that era (or even one written today!!). - Emma is rich, clever and beautiful and as powerful as a woman of her age and situation could be at the time and she married Knightley for no other reason but because he’s her best friend and his company for the rest of her life will enrich her. - He even leaves his house to move in with her!

Captain Wentworth (1995):

Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.

Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.

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I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.

If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

F. W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.

This is propaganda for the next round because I need my boy to be a finalist! But this letter is all the persuasion I need to know that he is a winner

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Ciarán Hinds in this is a whole other level of "a good man" He makes Anne's decision at the end so much more perfect.

#hotjaneaustenmenpoll #semi finals #mr knightley #captain wentworth #emma 2009 #persuasion 1995 #Emma #persuasion #jane austen #ciaran hinds #jonny lee miller

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