#and i love how curt an answer that was like

[lightseoul]

a/n. once again, i have been inspired by a random instagram reel. i didn't even watch it, really—i just saw the keyword and was immediately spurred into writing this. enjoy <3 (0.9k)

you feel his gaze on you before you even think of meeting it.

“what,” you state more than ask when he doesn’t let up after a minute, not bothering to look up from the book you’re reading.

a scoff resounds from his direction. then: “too lazy to even move your shitty eyes?”

“don’t have to,” you retort as you finally close the paperback, shifting in your bed to regard him. “you’re boring holes into my face with all that staring.”

from where he’s seated at your dining table, bakugou grumbles, although he doesn’t deny the allegations. your face softens when you realize belatedly that he’s being awfully quiet—a jarring juxtaposition to his usual brashness.

something’s up.

but you know better than to pry it from him.

you mentally sigh. the roundabout way it is.

“what, am i extra pretty today?” you joke out of your ass, and that catches him off guard because he chokes on his own spit. that wasn’t part of the plan but you can’t help it—you laugh as he coughs his lungs out, somehow managing to throw in a curse or two in between rasps.

“shitty fucking—” he hacks some more, and when he finally recovers: “i don’t know why i fucking put up with you.”

you shrug, not at all hurt by the otherwise scathing statement. he’s said that to you too many times to count and yet, he’s still here. hanging out with you in your apartment on a friday night, no less.

you don’t point out any of that, though, confident that said knowledge is true enough for the both of you to leave it unspoken. so instead, you continue down the jesting route. “you wouldn’t know how to talk to girls without me, that’s why.”

“fuck off,” he tosses without missing a beat. “i can get the fuck by without your shitty ass guidance.”

that makes you grin, because no, he definitely can’t. how can he when he refuses to do the very first step? as in, choose a girl to talk to?

you know, someone who isn’t you.

his reluctant (best) friend.

and as if he read your mind, he shoots you a pointed look. “and i told you,” he hisses, “you use up all my fuckin’ tolerance. can’t have another girl around because you drive me crazy enough.”

“thanks, kats. i love you, too.”

“whatever,” he answers petulantly as he looks away, although you catch wind of the faint tinge of pink spreading across his cheeks like it always does when you shower him with affection—to his chagrin.

“so…” you start when neither of you says anything for a moment, “am i extra pretty today? or do you wanna share, i don’t know, something.”

“if i spit it out, will you fucking stop badgering me about how you look? you haven’t even showered today, for fuck’s sake.”

a pillow is flung across the room before you can think against it.

“wha—” he gets out instinctively before dodging it with ease. you roll your eyes as he flashes you a victorious smirk. of course. of all the jobs he could have in the world, he had to be a pro-hero and have the signature pro-hero reflexes.

his countenance then morphs as he stares at you expectantly, waiting for an answer, and you have to bite back the fuck you that’s dangling at the tip of your tongue. instead, you give him a curt nod, feigning nonchalance to further coax him into spilling whatever’s in his mind.

“go on,” you press when he doesn’t follow it up immediately after.

“i’m getting to it, alright? jesus.”

a pause.

then, another.

and when you’re finally convinced he’s just playing with you and won’t reveal whatever secret he’s got hidden behind the vault he calls his lips, he says it.

“i’m getting a vasectomy.”

you blink at him.

that was not what you were expecting.

“wh—what?”

you can only watch him in utter bewilderment as he flushes, covering up his fluster with a glare. “you heard me.”

“but, kats,” you begin, not knowing how to say the next bit, “…you’re a virgin. and you’ve never been with anyone romantically.”

the pink from earlier instantly deepens into a scarlet. “so what, hah? you’re the one to talk!”

“no, no,” you manage to respond, slowly shaking your head. you have no idea what’s happening. “that wasn’t meant to be a roast. like, at all. it’s just…why?”

bakugou doesn’t answer right away, instead choosing to press his lips into a thin line.

“you said it yourself, didn’t you?” he says after a while, voice uncharacteristically hushed, as if he doesn’t want you to hear him. you lean in ever so minutely, straining to listen from a few feet away.

“said wait?” you ask, matching the stillness of his tone.

“that birth control fucks you up.”

at that, you barely manage to school your shock into a neutral expression, although it’s definitely your heart that’s suddenly hammering wildly against your chest at his admission. you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. his gaze is dizzyingly penetrating as you struggle to get your words out, until you finally manage a warbled “y-yeah.”

he probably meant that birth control fucks you—women—up, and not you you.

yeah, that’s definitely it.

with this new strand of knowledge, you’re able to muster a genuine smile his way. “that’s very thoughtful of you, kats.”

and just because you like to be sure of things, you throw in the next thing for good measure.

“she’ll be very lucky to have you.”

silence.

“hah?!”

(the keyword was vasectomy lol) (petition for more birth control methods for men)

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra

[haveihitanerve]

this might be my new favorite interview of all time

holy fuck

im cackling like mad and cannot stop grinning.

theyre such adorkable beans

have an image description-

“Its not really in our nature to argue , except through lawyers. We sulked.” -Roland orzabal “Now i've got you!!” Smith prepares a sneak attack.  Duran Duran collect their Q award. Tears for Fears were not, repeat not, even a tiny bit jealous.  Launching the new Seeds of Love in 1989. No mic for Curt, then? Curt Smith, one day he’ll graduate to the driver’s seat.

Roland, is it true that you once foresaw Curt’s death in a motor race? And have you had any premonitions lately? RO: No, that’s made up as well. Predictive astrology I know nothing about.  CS: Basically, we are dull people so the press are forced to make things up about us. That said, he did used to try to pick up attractive young ladies by guessing their star signs and, 95 percent of the time, getting it wrong. RO: Actually, I didn't do that at all. I would ask them their birthday, and was then able to tell them what their father was like. I was spot on, mostly. It was very impressive.  CS: No, you would tell them that it was in their future to have an affair with a middle-aged pop star…

Curt, what have you been doing for the past 10-plus years? CS: Hanging on. [Orzabal erupts into slightly manic laughter. Smith ignores him] The day after I left the band, I moved to New York because I wanted to disappear. It’s no coincidence that I moved into a city in which you could disappear very easily. A while later, I made a solo album, which I hated; I had a syndicated radio show in America; I was an MTV VJ. In other words, I had a life.

How the hell did you spend one million pounds making The Seeds Of Love? And do you still consider it to be a work of genius? RO: It cost a million pounds because it took over four years to record, and the studio was 1500 a day. I don't think that, overall, it was a work of complete genius, but there are definitely elements of genius in it. Parts of the album are overproduced and pompous, and listening to those parts now makes me cringe. But every time I do listen to it, I still go, Wow, how did I do that? That’s amazing. It’s the most genius Beatles rip-off in existence. Q gave us five stars, you'll remember. I wouldn't have given it as much as that. But you did. 

Who ripped off The Beatles more- you or Oasis? RO: Oasis ripped off The Rutles, not the Beatles. But Liam does do an amazing Lennon, he just does, his voice sounds beautiful. We were ripping off one aspect of The Beatles- Sgt Pepper- while Oasis have made a career out of it.

Roland, is Fish Out Of Water (from Elemental, his first ‘solo’ Tears For Fears album) about Curt? If so, those are some pretty cutting lyrics… RO: Yes, it is, and it contains some of my favourite lyrics. “We used to sit and talk about primal scream/To exorcise our past was our adolescent dream/But now its sink or swim since your memory fails/Now in Neptune's kitchen you will be food for killer whales.” Fantastic, no? Pure vitriol.  CS: I couldn't give a fuck, quite frankly. Its a compliment, in some ways. RO: Absolutely. It means I cared deeply for him. [Laughs] That’s one way of interpreting it, anyway…

The ‘80s: an era of cocaine, non-stop fashion disasters and infinte greed. Discuss RO: Absolutely. It was a time of Wall Street’s “greed is good”, of Margret Thatcher and rampant free market capitalism, that kind of thing. True, the mullets were a disaster, although my hair is much the same today. But, by then, we were the very antithesis of rock’n’roll. The drugs didn't come until much later- I didn't start doing charlie until the ‘90s, and only then because I wanted to catch up. In the ‘80s, I’d denied myself many pleasures. I was very introverted, very anal.  [Smith nods in silent agreement]

After the fallout in 1990, was Roland pleased to see Curt’s career flop? RO: I didn't like his first solo album at all, but then nor did he. I felt it was going in the wrong direction. But his second, Mayfield, was really good. I thought to myself, Why didn't he do this when we were together? I wouldn't have let him? Well, thats probably true. I did view Tears For Fears very much as my band, I suppose.

Who is the best singer? RO: I am. CS: I am.

You were really pretentious, weren't you? RO: [laughing again] We Still are pretentious! But we’re much better at it now. We’ve blended our pretensions with humor, wouldn't you say? We are humorous and pretentious and middle-aged. We’re both 42, after all. CS: But I look younger RO: Cunt. (yes he says cunt, not curt)

Duran Duran got a lifetime achievement at last years Q Awards. Were you jealous? RO [scoffing]: I think, basically, you are running out of people to give awards to, so watch this space, because it could be us next year? What I want to know is why you didn't give it to Phil Collins. Genesis, the solo years and of course The Lion King, the best record he’s ever made. Anyway, how do you define achievement? As Sting once said… CS: oh, for fucks sake, please don't start quoting Sting.  RO:.... As Sting once said, Music is its own reward.

[moe-broey]

Random small talk event at the yard sard set-up, very nice lady, but ESP when asking "Oh are you still in school? ☺️" I literally never know how to say "Oh I graduated a long time ago. Yeah. I mostly do art now" and she says "Oh to sell?" and so far I'm having a reasonable and effective small talk conversation, when I hit that pitfall and lock up and I worry I'm becoming unfriendly bc I locked up. Because I REALLY don't know how to say, "Nah, I kind of do fuck all. I'm 25 and I do fuck all. For nothing." Like I can see the conversation tree in real time and I know that's the worst dialogue option. And there are no other dialogue options there's just Press B to get the fuck outta there!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'M SORRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[onmyyan]

Ain't no sunshine

Chapter 4

A/n: love this series, fem reader, yandere themes, platonic yandere Batfamily

Taglist: @uniquecutie-puffs @starsdotalk @ghostdoodlen @nickey-diano @76lonelyspoons @m3vl0vesu @uknowimdumb

"What's this about Gordon?" Damian asks after arriving in the dining room, he was perplexed by her message, what on earth would they need to speak about you of all people?

"(Y/n) moved out." Barbara says biting the bullet.

There was a moment of silence as her words registered before chaos broke out.

"What do you mean moved out?" Dick asks putting down the bagel he was eating his eyes held disbelief, "I mean I just checked her room and she's gone." Barbara says making his stomach lurch.

"We missed her birthday." Tim speaks suddenly realizing, his mind working a mile a minute. Jason curses under his breath at the revelation, how could he be such an idiot?

"You're wrong she wouldn't leave like that." Dick shook his head, the thought of you simply disappearing sent a wave of deep-seated unease through the family, and something else, something much darker had been born in that moment within each of them.

"Alfred confirmed it." Barbara says softly trying not to upset Dick further than he was.

Cass stood still before signing, "How could we not have noticed?"

Damian having enough of the conversation pulled out his phone calling your number, only to be met with the same answer Barbara got when she tried, his brows furrowed as the automated voice told him the number was disconnected. "Her phone's off." He speaks a pit forming in his stomach,

The Manor was quieter than usual.

That's the first thing Bruce notices when he wakes up that morning, an almost empty quiet filled the halls as he went from his bedroom to the study, he couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly and this bothered him to no end.

Alfred stood diligently by the marble counter top waiting for Bruce's instructions, "Good morning Alfred."

"Master Bruce." Alfred greeted him simply, rather curt for the old man, and Bruce notices this immediately, his mind racing on what he could have done to upset the man. "Is something wrong Alfred?"

"To be the world's greatest detective you can be incredibly dense." Alfred served him his coffee without another word and made Bruce feel like a child being scolded for something.

It wasn't until he walked by your room did his senses go off, it was much too quiet in there, knocking softly he found the door opening from the slightest touch. Alarm bells immediately start going off at just how empty it is, how void of life. He rushed downstairs, searching for Alfred to question him, when he saw his whole family gathered in the dining room.

They stare at him, all with that deer in a headlight look, "What?" He asks knowing something was up.

"(Y/n)'s gone." Dick speaks up, biting at his thumb, "And we missed her birthday." Jason adds on his guilt making his shoulders slump inward.

Bruce looks over to Alfred as if to confirm what he was told, the older man simply nods.

Meanwhile on the other side of Gotham, you're completely unaware of the chaos your absence is causing. Too busy enjoying your new life.

Bruce went to the cave immediately, checking the cameras for your form, he searched through a week of footage before he saw your graceful exit from the manor. A week. A fucking week you'd been gone and your own father hadn't noticed.

Bruce had felt like a true failure only a handful of times in his life, losing Jason, and now, you.

Only this time there was no Joker to blame, it was him. His fault his daughter felt the need to disappear without so much as a goodbye. The years of ignoring your presence simply because you were his 'easy child' the one he never had to worry about, the one who never made waves, come crashing down upon him, he rests his head on his hands, eyes never leaving the screen. "What have I done?" He speaks lowly, mind reeling from the shame of his inaction.

His blue eyes hardened at the sight of you on the screen, he could fix this, couldn't he? He just needed a second chance, he'd show you the love you deserved, the nurturing you needed, he didn't care that you were a legal adult now, (he winces at the thought of forgetting such an important birthday, he'd throw you the party of all parties once he got you home, he swore it.) you were his daughter, his youngest daughter, and you needed him no matter what you thought.

Dick Grayson prided himself on many things, one of which being his bond with his family, so to be faced with the reality that he wasn't the best big brother around, kind of shatters him. He refused to accept the fact that his, along with everyone else's actions, lead to your choice to abandon them, instead he reasoned, you were feeling rebellious, youthful energy and all that, he was sure once you got this out of your system you'd be right back where you belonged. Where he could keep an eye on you, a proper eye this time.

Jason fumes silent, pacing the kitchen, he feels like a cat is clawing at his skin from the inside, unable to do anything with his pent up frustration he grips the counter top hard enough for his knuckles to turn white. He hated himself right now, hated how garbage he felt, you were only eighteen, all on your lonesome in a city like Gotham? It was enough to set the hairs on his neck on edge.

Tim was busy on his tablet, he was already searching the city's CCTV cameras for any trace of you, his fingers working so fast they cramped, sweat drips down his brow as he searched, unable to tear himself away from his task. He felt maybe just maybe if he found you, he could begin to make up for how shitty he'd treated you, begin to open up to you in the way you'd always wanted. He needed to find you, and based on the usually composed family's obvious panic, it needed to be fast.

Barbara busied herself with rummaging through your empty room for anything she could use to find you, if she just had the chance to explain herself, she's sure you'd understand, sure you'd look at her with that expression you had when you were younger, like she was your personal hero.

Cassandra finds herself staring out at the distant view of Gotham, her hands twitching at her sides as she struggles not to take action, sure she didn't have a bond with you like she did with the others but she still cared for you, from a distance, she felt it was safer as you were the only civilian in the family. A choice she thinks now was a mistake. Maybe if she'd let her walls down a little more, you'd have confided in her instead of leaving.

Damian, in his rage, wasted no time heading to the cave to suit up, there he found his Father, still leaning over the computer table. "What are you doing?" Bruce asks barley looking away from the screen. "What do you think? Going to find that idiot before she gets herself killed." He seethes yanking on his tactical gloves.

"Damian -"

"How dare she leave us- we are a family." He spits the word out like it's a curse, "You don't leave your family." He reiterates slamming his hands into the table holding various gadgets. "I'm going to find that fool and drag her back here." He promised.

"Just hold on for a moment." Bruce stands walking over to his son to put a comforting hand on his shoulder, "We have no idea where she is, let us do some recon. Tim will find her address in no time, if she's still in Gotham we'll find her within the week."

Damian hesitantly agreed to his father's reasoning.

It takes them a week to find you, you were very good at hiding your tracks, using only cash, staying in shady areas because they weren't monitored, it's only when you post a selfie with some new friends do they lock your location down.

Tim took five minutes to himself to stare at the photo before alerting the family, he found it after all, he felt entitled to it, to the joy on your face, the other people in the picture made it easier to find you, first he found their names, then their addresses and used that along with the small bits of background he could see to triangulate your new address.

He'd never seen that look on your face, it was a casual cocky sort of grin, one that said you were genuinely enjoying yourself. He couldn't fathom how you were so happy without them, it sort of hurt his feelings, but at the same time he needed to see more of that smile, see what other expressions you made, he'd only ever seen that sad dejected look on your face, he huffs to himself, saving the picture for himself before sending the info to the group chat.

Bruce decided to let one of his kids do the interacting with you, feeling too ashamed to face you yet, he sends Dick, knowing you once looked up to him.

You're three hours into a horror movie marathon, courtesy of the box TV you stole off the back of a moving truck, when someone knocks at your door.

You don't pause the movie, using it as cover to tip toe towards the door, sure it was still early in the night, but everything was dangerous in Gotham.

You don't say a word, sneakily looking through the grimey peephole all you can make out is a tall dark haired man.

He knocks again causing you to flinch. Swiping knife out the drawer, you hide it behind your back before swinging open the door expecting the people you'd stolen the TV from or maybe one of the thugs you'd beaten black and blue, not Dick Grayson.

"Hey little bird." He greets like an old time friend, not the man who'd ignored you your entire relationship.

"How the fuck- what are you doing here?" You sigh revealing the knife as you rest your hand on your hip, exasperated by his mere presence. He eyes the knife before laughing, "I like the energy, good call living in this neighborhood." He invites himself inside, scrutinizing your apartment, a deep sigh leaving his lips, "You shouldn't be living like this-"

"Hold the fuck on." You point the knife at him accusingly, "You didn't know I existed a week ago, now you barge into my home," you emphasize with another point, "shit all over it and start lecturing me about how I should live?" You stare at him like he's grown another head before laughing, he friend stepping closer, "I'm ...I'm sorry, I know I forgot your birthday - we forgot, but you didn't need to run away-"

"I didn't run from shit." Crossing your arms, "I'm an adult, I moved out." You say pointedly.

"Be that as it may- you should have said something, do you have any idea how worried we've been?" He pleads, brows furrowed, "I know you're mad, you've every right to be, but this isn't safe." He gestures to your apartment. "I walked past a drug deal on the way up here ya know." He chides like he's scolding s child.

"Come back to the manor." He says softly, stepping closer once more, until he could touch your shoulder, "no need to leave the nest so soon." You stare at his hand, then him, before pointing the knife at him, your hand steady,

"Get the fuck outta my house."

Dick leaves reluctantly, he was determined to bring you home, thought you'd jump in his arms for a hug once he showed up, but you didn't, you looked at him with disgust, anger, and a hint of fear, he hated it. He wanted you to look up at him like the big brother he was, not like your enemy.

You're panting after the encounter, knife clattering to the ground, you follow shortly after, collapsing as your mind tried to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you.

It was a storm, so you latched on to the one feeling that would anchor you, rage.

You don't sleep that night. And it's a good thing because Damian is breaking through your window lock like it was the easiest thing, he enters your home, face deadset in a glare. "You left the manor for this shit hole?" He almost laughs, his hand on his sword makes you incredibly nervous. "What's it matter to you? Thought you'd be thrilled." You roll your eyes, too exhausted to deal with another one of them in such a short time period.

"You've disrupted the natural flow in the manor with this little stunt." He seethes, "I'm going to restore it." He states as if speaking a fact. "How prey tell do you intend on doing that, you massive twat?" He simply smirks before looking behind you, you turn around and see Jason leaning against the wall, his red hood mask on, obstructing his facial expression, making him all the more unnerving.

"You're a long way from home." Jason says kicking off the wall, moving to hover behind you, "Why are you here?! Okay I'm officially over this reunion, out." You point to the window they entered from.

"Oh we're leaving, just not without you." Jason chimes up his hand hovering over his guns, fingers twitching.

To your defense, you did try and run, but it was no use, they were on you faster than you could process, a sweet smelling cloth is pressed to your mouth, and as much as you fight it, eventually you need to breathe, it takes one good inhale for the chloroform to kick in, you slump in someone's hold you're unsure of which one and your world fades to black.

I

[couldeatthatgirlforlunch]

I really loved your scenario of The Justice League AND The Ill reader,Lmao, poor reader they only need a rest.

Anyway, ever since I read the first part I was thinking about the kids, you know, the League Sidekicks, obviously The Reader knows them, due to work (I can really imagine Batman introducing His kids to the Reader to force a bond , And obviously The rest of The League does the same) So I had the headcanon that the reader really likes the children, they talk to them after missions, sometimes they buy them some gifts for their birthdays, they listen to them when they complain about their father figures (Therapist Reader), etc. But at the same time I can imagine The Reader being totally uncomfortable with his parents, so I can't help but think of a scenario in which The Reader is talking to the League kids in a good mood, but the League members walk in. to the room (They obviously saw the Happy Reader, so they want to gain some advantage) And The Reader just turns off, goes into business mode and is curt as always with the league, and when he finishes talking to the league, he goes back to talking to the children and their mood is happy again. Man I would love to see the league's reaction to the obvious reader favoritism

PD:I really love your work, you are amazing

Pd2:If The kids are yandere, ITS UP to you

A Week in Life: Take Your Kid to Work Day

Synopsis: A week in your life where you get a lot of new little friends, even if you know something’s sketchy about it.

Pairing: Yandere!Justice League X Assistant!Gn!Reader; Platonic!Yanderes! Robin (Dick), Superboy (Konner), Miss Martian, Kid Flash (Wally) and Aqualad (Kaldur'ahm)

Tw: A single implication about Hal’s past dub/non con incidente (blink and you miss it); Implied emotional manipulation, I guess? Justice League using kids as a manipulation tactic; A little angst, I think we all hate how Superman treated Conner, so I added that, so technically not a healthy relationship between them here, could be interpreted as Superman manipulating him or Superboy trying too hard to make his bio-dad like him; The kid’s ages are definitely not accurate canon wise, but what is canon anyway? I mixed their personalities and origins from Young Justice (along with their age gap) and for Superboy it was mainly the animated movie Reign of the Supermen; English is not my 1st language.

Word count: 3,3k

Requested? More than once.

Extra notes: Dick is 10, Kaldur'ahm, Conner, Megan and Wally are 13. I wish I knew more about the Wonder Girls to write about one of them, I felt bad for not adding them, but I would’ve felt worse writing for a character I have no idea how to write.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

— I wasn't aware that there was a Take Your Kid to Work Day on schedule... — You said in a surprised, maybe taken aback, tone, if not a little strangled and sarcastic, even if a little happy. You rubbed your forehead, you knew your hunch was right…

Monday…

You’ve heard the rumors Gotham media was spreading for months now, you even asked Batman if you should prepare the marketing team in case of an emergency, he denied everything.

So why was it that now you were staring at a 10 year old dressed as a traffic light?

— Miss/Mister/Mx (Y/N)... I’m hungry… — Worst of all? The kid was cute.

You smile in a friendly manner.

— Okay, okay. Just give me a second, buddy, I need to talk to your… Dad…?! — You just now realized you didn't know their actual relationship. Batman only told you his name was Robin, that he was his partner, and that he was in the watchtower to observe. You didn't know superheroes accepted 10 year old interns, but whatever. The kid just stared blankly at you, not giving an actual answer to if you got your assumption right.

— Can I go with you? — Robin fiddled with his fingers. So cute. You nodded with a small smile. The kid jumped off his too big chair and ran towards you, surprising you by taking your hand. He had small hands. So cute.

You walked slowly, to accommodate to his height, in the direction of the door to the briefing room, where Batman was talking to John Stewart. This other Green Lantern was a breath of fresh air. The other one (the one who shouldn't be named) was away, working on another district of the universe since that whole… Less-than-consensual situation. You were happy and surprised when the League didn't just brush it off, and even compensated you for it, alongside making him go away. He either agreed to that, or caused the 3rd World War against the Justice League. It was a temporary predicament, but happier nonetheless, since John wasn't obsessed with you, unlike the rest of them, and easy to work with.

You cleared your throat so they would turn to you.

— Does Robin have any restrictions? He said he's hungry so I'm gonna take him to the kitchen. — You said politely. Batman shook his head.

— Just don't give him sugar. He needs to sleep before patrol tonight. — You raised your eyebrows in surprise and nodded your head. Batman looked at the boy. — Behave, chum. — You blinked, Robin nodded solemnly.

As you walked in the direction of the kitchen, the kid showed to be very happy and talkative. You were surprised, considering who his dad was, but it warmed your heart. At least it seemed he wasn't mistreated.

At some point, he let your hand go and started cartwheeling and doing acrobatics all the way there to show off his abilities to you. You gasped and clapped, praising his talent along with other workers from the crew who were passing the hall. You were slightly worried that he would fall and get hurt, but the kid was really confident in what he was doing (but they always are, until they fall).

When you got there, you were impressed that he wasn't even the slightest out of breath.

— Do you have games on your phone? — He asked, sitting down on a table while you rummaged the fridge for some sandwiches or any healthy snack, since you didn't know how his home diet was, but guessing by his build, which was a lot more athletic than kids his age are, he was probably pretty healthy. Son of the Bat.

— Hmm, I have Dress to Impress, Pou and Candy Crush.

— What is Pou? — Your heart panged and you sighed, feeling old.

— When were you born? 2010? — You walked towards him and settled a plate with a sandwich in front of him, before pouring a cup of juice.

— 2014. — Your mouth dropped, speechless. — Wait, so not even Stardew Valley? — You cleared your throat and shook your head, sitting beside him, while he started eating.

— Wait, can I even let you play? Does Batman let you have screen time? — He nodded.

— I have a phone. I just couldn't bring it with me today… He said he would show me around the tower, but he got busy with work… — He deflated a little at the end of the sentence, your heart broke. — Anyway… He told me I could distract myself. I just need your permission. — You bite your lip.

— Okay. How about we go to the recreational room and you can play some videogames while I work from the computer. — Robin nodded eagerly.

— Damn, you can't even play with me? Working sucks. That must be why adults are so boring. — You took a napkin and cleaned some food from his cheek.

— It's not that bad… You can do whatever you want. — He perked up.

— I guess so… — He looked you up and down. You prepared yourself for one of those moments where kids are so blunt that they don't know they could offend someone. — But you're not boring, (Y/N), you're cool. Must be why daddy likes you so much. And he doesn't like no one.

Tuesday…

Wow, what a weird coincidence. Just yesterday Batman brought his kid, and now Martian Manhunter brought his niece.

Miss Martian looked older than Robin, but again, she was a martian, her appearance was shifted to whatever she wanted to look like. All you knew was that she was young and new on Earth.

Right now, she looked very human. She had freckles and auburn hair. The only thing that made her stand out was the green of her skin.

When she presented herself to you, you got startled by her voice in your head, but you and Martian Manhunter softly explained to her that on Earth people didn't communicate through their minds, and it was kinda like an invasion of privacy. Kinda funny hearing him say that, but whatever.

Like Batman the day prior, Martian trusted the girl in your hands. So many coincidences, right?!

— So, honey, how old are you?

— Oh, on my home planet I should be about 39. But converting to Earth years, I’m 13. — She said with a shy but friendly smile, you smiled back.

— You’re pretty young then. How are you settling on Earth? Planning to go to school maybe? — She nodded.

— I just started the school year… I wasn't too sure about that, but my uncle said it would be good to learn human behaviors. — You nodded.

— American school is nice, I recommend you should take part in clubs. And don't feel pressured to make a billion friends. It's better to have one good friend, instead of 10 people you know but can't rely on. — She nodded, biting her lip.

— I already know some of the other sidekicks, I just don't have any civilian friends… I was thinking about joining the cheerleading team. — You gasped, excited.

— Oh, that's really good! I always wanted to join, but was never the sporty type. You’re sweet, I think that already gives you some points. — Her green cheeks got darker.

— You think so?! — Her voice got louder with excitement.

— Of course! Now let me give you some tips about the jocks, honey…

Wednesday…

Today, Flash brought Kid Flash. You haven't met him until now. The sequence of days the older heroes brought in their sidekicks was starting to look weird… But not that weird. Batman said he would give Robin a tour but became unavailable. Manhunter wanted Miss Martian to meet civilian people and have a good role model — you don't know why he decided that that role model should be you, but it made sense, so… —. Flash Said they would spend the day using the lab to experiment some more on Kid Flash’s still recently acquired powers. So. Coincidences, right?

The boy was 13 too, he had messy red hair and green eyes. Flash didn't specify their relationship, but their personalities definitely matched a little. Both a little hyperiperactive and smiley. Although that could be more of a speedster thing, especially the first part.

Like promised, they spent half that day on the lab, occasionally calling you for snack breaks. However, at some point, Flash gave an excuse and left you with the kid.

Huh.

— Sooo, what do you do around here? — Kid Flash asked, spinning around in a chair he found somewhere and rolled to the middle of your office in the blink of an eye. You half-smiled. It was nice not being crowded by those weirdos and being around fresh and youthful people, but it was starting to feel weird.

— I plan schedule appointments, organize team meetings, prepare agendas and itineraries, book meals and travel arrangements, handle record keeping and documentation, and make sure a project stays on budget. — The ginger blinked and stopped spinning.

— Uhh, you went to college for that? — You blinked.

— I did, why? — He chuckled slightly.

— Nothing, it's cool, sounds boring, though. — You nodded.

— What do you want to work with? — He looked to the side, thoughtful for a moment.

— I think I want to be a scientist.

— Oh really?

— Yeah, I like physics, mechanics and a little bit of chemistry. — You smirked.

— Chemistry? Sounds boring. — Kidflash froze for a second, wide-eyed, then relaxed and started laughing loudly. His chuckling prompted you to chuckle alongside him.

He used his feet to push the chair around your table and stopped at your side.

— Hey, can I see how much people get paid here? If I'm gonna be a member of the League one day, might as well optimize time and just work here. — You slapped his hands away when he reached for your computer, he pouted.

— Wouldn't that make it difficult to keep your secret identity hidden?! — Kid Flash stretched his arm, then draped it across your shoulders, you lifted an eyebrow.

— Babe. I'm a superhero. I could change clothes really fast right now and you wouldn't even notice. — You scoffed and lightly pushed him and his chair away.

— A phone booth would be more appropriate for that.

— What's a phone booth?

Thursday…

Superman brought Superboy.

Why the fuck are they doing that, bro?

You didn't even know they were close! Sure, Superboy is Superman and Lex Luthor’s clone, the whole world knew that, and that Superboy took to Superman's side. But they were never seen together, unlike Flash and Kid Flash, or Batman and Robin, for example.

Worst of all? It looked like the mood between them was… Weary. Especially on Superman’s part. Did he not trust Superboy? You could understand that… But look at his puppy sad face!

And not even five minutes later, Superman just flew away, saying something about a hurricane in Texas, AND SUPERBOY STAYED!

The silence was awkward for a few seconds. You thought back to the personality he showed when he was first announced by LexCorp, when Superman was considered dead. He was all over the media (Lex’s marketing team was good) with his charisma and flirty personality. Although he kept the leather jacket, his quietness surprised you.

You cleared your throat.

Superman brought Superboy.

Why the fuck are they doing that, bro?

You didn't even know they were close! Sure, Superboy is Superman and Lex Luthor’s clone, the whole world knew that, and that Superboy took to Superman's side. But they were never seen together, unlike Flash and Kid Flash, or Batman and Robin, for example.

Worst of all? It looked like the mood between them was… Weary. Especially on Superman’s part. Did he not trust Superboy? You could understand that… But look at his puppy sad face!

And not even five minutes later, Superman just flew away, saying something about a hurricane in Texas, AND SUPERBOY STAYED!

The silence was awkward for a few seconds. You thought back to the personality he showed when he was first announced by LexCorp, when Superman was considered dead. He was all over the media (Lex’s marketing team was good) with his charisma and flirty personality. Although he kept the leather jacket, his quietness surprised you.

You cleared your throat.

— So… Are you hungry? Wanna play videogames? — You grimaced slightly. He looked at you again, a little hesitant.

— Uh… I think so? — He blinked. — You guys have videogames here?! — He exclaimed, surprised. You chuckled.

— Oh yeah, for such a serious and stern guy, Batman really invested in the work environment. — You chuckled together, walking towards the recreational area.

You were curious about the earlier weird vibe, but didn't want to prod.

At first, you just let the boy play by himself, just sitting beside him and working while talking, that was until he paused the game between missions and stretched, then looked at you.

— Are you guys involved? — You looked at him with your eyebrows raised.

— You guys…? — He pursed his lips.

— You and Superman. — You grimaced slightly.

— Oh no, he's my boss, and not my type at all. — He nodded, looking pensive.

— He likes you. — You kept a blank expression, waiting for him to continue. — I like you too, so I can imagine why he likes you. — You stared at him, exasperated. He widened his eyes. — Not like that! — He raised his hands to deny. — It's just- I feel comfortable with you. I felt comfortable with some of his friends before, I didn't even know why, but I think it's because half of me is from him. Like I have some things from Lex since I was… Born… — He looked to the ground for a second, pouting lightly. — That's why Superman doesn't like me. — You widened your eyes.

— I'm sure he likes you! — Superboy looked at you like he didn't believe you.

— No, it's okay… He's polite, I guess. And took me in as his family, just not… As his son… More like a brother, or… A cousin… I mean, I can understand, I'm basically a hate baby, created by his biggest enemy to outdo and destroy him… — You shook your head.

You didn't know what to say, since you didn't know how their dynamic was like.

— H-He brought you here to spend time with you, didn't he? He just had an emergency to take care of… — He looked to the ground and then at you again. He didn't have the heart to tell you that's the first time they ever “hung out”, and that his genius brain clocked hours ago that Superman's plan was to create a connection between you both by orchestrating a connection with you and him. He also didn't want to bad mouth Clark. A part of him always would have hope that Superman would want to be closer to him one day.

Superboy looked at the clock and then at you.

— Don't you have a break? I can hear your stomach, I'm hungry too.

Friday…

This madness has to stop now.

— Nice to meet you, Aqualad. — You nodded at the boy with a small smile. You were a little mesmerized by his exotic appearance. He had brown skin, blonde hair in braids (where are his roots?) and blue eyes. His arms were also covered in tattoos that you knew had something to do with his abilities.

— I was showing him around the Watchtower, but now I have a meeting with Wonder Woman, why don't you two hang out for a while? — Aquaman, always the most obnoxious one. Their intentions were 100% clear now.

Aquaman didn't let you say anything else and left the room with said hero. You heard her murmur something about having to find her own apprentice to bring to the watchtower as soon as possible.

You looked at the boy, not knowing what to say.

— Have you ever been to Atlantis? — He surprised you by speaking first, his tone was gentle, if not a little monotonous, but he looked at you with interest.

— Uhhh, no? I’m not that good of a swimmer and I can't breathe underwater. — Aqualad smirked lightly.

— You wouldn't need to worry about breathing, there are multiple ways for humans to do that, from magic to technology. As for swimming… I'm sure we can find some sort of solution for that, also. And I doubt my king would be opposed to the idea of teaching you. — You nodded slowly. So much for subtly.

— … My vitamin D is low enough as it is, I’d rather stay on land, no offense. — The atlantean opened his mouth to speak but you beat him to it. — Aqualad! Do you like the food here? I've always been curious about your culture’s cuisine…

You kept talking for hours, eventually, Aqualad and you ended up in the training room, he offered to show you a little of his control over water bodies, and you, still a little fascinated over the convivence with superheroes, and this being the second time you met someone from Atlantis, accepted eagerly.

— This is just like H2O… — Kauldur’ahm blinked.

— It is water… — The boy confirmed, hesitantly. You laughed.

— No, no, not water. It's a TV show, it's about mermaids. I guess it isn't exactly accurate, but they can control water, just like you! — He nodded, slowly, contemplating. You looked at your watch, noticing your lunch time was due. You looked at him, shyly. — If you're up for it, we could watch it now… — That seemed to make him perk up a little and he nodded quickly.

— I would like to.

Monday…

— I wasn't aware that there was a Take Your Kid to Work Day on schedule... — You said in a surprised, maybe taken aback, tone, if not a little strangled and sarcastic, even if a little happy. You rubbed your forehead, you knew your hunch was right…

There they were, in the meeting room, all seated around the big roundtable, almost double the number of people who usually sit there.

Now, the food order they made, made sense.

You pushed the food cart forward, one for Flash. You came back and pushed another one, this one for Kid Flash, you ruffled his hair. Then, you walked back and pushed the 3rd food cart around the table, delivering each meal for each hero.

— Steak for Green Lantern. One black coffee for Batman. One meat sandwich and chocolate milk for Robin. — You squeezed his cheek. He smiled brightly at you. — Toast for Martian Manhunter and a slice of strawberry cake for Missy Miss Martian. — As you put the plate in front of her, you whispered that you wanted to know how the cheerleading team was going. She nodded happily. — A burger with fries for Aquaman, a smoothie and salad for Aqualad. Oh, did you change your hair? I like it! — You smiled brightly at the boy and his cheeks burned, he nodded. — Ice cream for Wonder Woman. Another burger and fries for Superman and another for Superboy. I see you followed my advice, your style really matches with those piercings. Tell me how you did it later. — You laughed carelessly and went to the door. — Need me for something more? — Your bosses shook their heads, stunned. You left and closed the door.

— Can't believe you guys actually did it… — John shook his head, disappointed at his teammates.

— I knew it would work. — Batman said, sipping from his drink.

— That's why we stole your idea when we knew about it. — Aquaman chuckled.

— I really need to find a sidekick. — Diana huffed.

Batman turned to Robin.

— You did a good job, chum. — Dick chuckled.

— Yeah, I even asked for a sandwich without the crust. Now (Y/N) think I'm the cutest here. — He smirked smugly. Wally scoffed.

— Yeah, right. She totally doesn't think you're an annoying kid. — The duo stared at each other. — I, for example, made them laugh. — The redhead puffed his chest proudly.

— Are you sure it wasn’t a pity laugh?! — Superboy snorted at Robin’s retort.

— Although Robin might be physically more adorable, and Kid Flash, in his words, made them laugh. (Y/N) and I started a TV show together, my king. — Aquaman nodded at his apprentice’s words.

— You did a good job.

— But (Y/N) actually said they wanted to talk to me later! That usually oficializes human’s friendships! — Megan said, softly.

— They said the same to me, the other day. That I could talk to them whenever I wanted… — Superman looked at Superboy, surprised. He felt awkward praising him, so he just nodded his head and looked away. Superboy pouted slightly.

— Because you told them your sob story, now they think you're a loser. — Conner glared at Dick. — Their physical language showed that they loved me, B! I honestly deserve an Oscar after that performance! They're gonna be ours before you suckers know it!

As a screaming match raised inside the room, the adult heroes looked at each other, lost for words, not only had the kids gotten you roped a bazillion times faster then they could ever dream, but also you were so amazing that they were enamored with you too.

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[kissitbttr]

a very tired miguel who gets home from work and gets babied by his woman

-

It's close to 9pm as you're lying on your bed. keeping your focus on the book you're reading, one that you failed to keep as a part of your routine due to your busy schedule with work. being a fashion designer has it's perks but it also has its dark sides too. especially when it comes to dealing with snobby ass clients

as you are about to flip to another page, you hear the front door opened. keys rattling against the ceramic bowl with a loud sigh follows after. a soft smile appears on your face soon as you realize who it is

“miguel? Is that you?” you softly call out your husband’s name while putting the book down.

"si, mi amor" he appears shortly by the doorway. your tall and handsome fiancee adorned in an unbuttoned white shirt that showcase a bit of his chest and paired with black trousers. a simple work attire but never fail to make your knees wobble. the sight could put any Greek Gods known to a man to shame.

your heart breaks a little seeing how tired he looks. his eye-bags are coming off too strong. a constant reminder on how he has been working himself far too hard despite you telling him to take it easy. but that's just how he is, stubborn.

"how's work my love?" you ask, watching him undress himself, revealing his exposed toned chest before putting the clothes away with the rest of his dirty ones in the bathroom. "I take it, it wasn't a good day?"

"you could say that" he replies tiredly, grabbing a pair of sweatpants off the chair and slipping it on. "trying to get ahold with the new recruits is a fucking job, Peter's been getting on my nerves and I'm working on advancing the technology we have right now in order for it to be easier to identify every single anomaly's DNA we've come across to. But the amount of hypotheses and research I've done are nowhere near close to how I want them to be."

"i would ask Tony Stark for help but que cabron esta muerto" he breathes out a sigh, pinching the thick skin between his brows. "I'm drained, mi amor... i can't fucking do this shit everytime--"

"no hey.. stop" you shake your head, hate having to see your man fronting a distressed look in his face. “come here, Miggy” you pout at him patting your chest for him to lay his head,

he sighs heavily. plopping into the bed and carefully lays himself on top of you. pounding head finding comfort in the warmth of your chest, snaking his big arms around your waist.

you put your arms around him, locking him tightly as your soft lips kiss his forehead making him purr.

“my pretty baby. exhausted aren't you? hm?” you ask in a cooing tone. he hums -- which sounded like a growl to you-- with a nod before nuzzling himself closer. “oh my poor poor baby... my handsome man. always working himself to the bone” another kiss on the forehead

“come up a little closer, hm?” you ask as he barely shifts his body. too lazy and far too comfortable in your arms like this for him to move.

you run your fingers through his soft hair, moving a piece that’s covering his forehead. looking down to see him close his eyes, yet not sleeping.

it’s so funny to see how this freakishly large- broad man who always seems to bring a cold presence that scares everyone off at work—which is technically true— then turns into a huge softie and a love puddle for you in a split seconds.

it’s truly a privilege that you’re the only one who gets to see and feel this

“look how cute you are, baby… do you know how cute you are, hm?” you coo at him, lips kissing his nose and the sharpness of his cheekbone. trying your best to console him in hopes of washing his stress away.

he lightly shakes his head. “no” a curt reply rolls of his mouth, drawing your body closer to him if that's even possible.

you pretend to gasp dramatically at his answer. fingers still stroking his hair lightly. “you don’t?! oh no! we have to fix that! you’re the cutest *kiss* most handsome *kiss* hardworking *kiss* man I’ve ever known” showering him with compliments in between kisses. he breathes out a small chuckle that muffles against your chest.

it’s obvious that miguel rarely gets treatments like this, he’s no one to shy from things but you're his only exception. the only person who truly can get him blush like a little kid when he's shown the slightest bit of affection.

“who’s baby are you hm? are you my baby?” a smile graces your lips as your eyes casting down to his pretty features.

“me. I’m your baby” he mumbles, tightening his grip around you. "always be your baby"

-

inspired by @webslingingslasher their frat!peter work yall is making me [REDACTED] please go take a look!!

[satellitespinner]

merry christmas, please dont call. (e.w) ❆

⁺₊❆⋆ ୨⎯ merry christmas, im not yours at all. merry christmas, please dont call. ⎯୧ ⁺₊❆⋆

pairings: ex!ellie x ex!oc/reader

synopsis: an involuntary trip back to your hometown brings back unwanted memories of the girl who broke your heart years before. when youre met with her unexpectedly, you have to decide wether or not to pursue her, or give her a taste of her own medicine. or maybe both.

wc: 6.7k (SMUT; ellie eats pussy then yall ✂️✂️.. angst, cheating, crying, slight comfort but no happy ending, reader is an offputting bitch who cries alot. joel and DINA mention!!!!!! the words and and you are used alot.. oc is shorter than ellie & has hair.)

MERRY CHRISTMAS DYKES IN MY PHONEEE !!! ilysm! im so excited to post this holy fucking shit shyt. interact i beg u. reblogs and comments are encouraged i loveee talking to you guys sm!!! ���🏼 come ttm and ill talk back! heavily inspired by my twin @coeurify !! i suggest you go read ttds 1 before reading this!

Christmas of freshman year Ellie bought you a bouquet of red and yellow flowers, you cried.

Christmas of sophomore year she burned you a cd with your shared playlist on it. She titled it ‘our songs” and you cried.

The next year she wrote you a song, it was truly beautiful. it made you cry.

Christmas of senior year was different. That year, your parents decided to use the break to visit universities and then stay at a nearby family member's house for the holiday. Before you left Ellie managed to gift you a shiny heart pendant with her initial carved onto the front and a picture of you two glued to the inside. you cried, hugged her, and told her you loved her.

The Christmas before you left for university Ellie broke up with you. This was the hardest you cried in five years.

So much for a Merry Christmas.

That was two years ago. you haven’t been back to your hometown since then, simply because you knew you couldn’t bear to face her. Going back to Jackson meant running into Ellie, and you weren’t ready for that.

until now, apparently.

your dearest mother had called you and told you that if you didn’t come back this year all your shit was going to the goodwill. Maybe Ellie wasn’t the only reason you avoided your hometown.

So here you were, driving the sickly long drive to the closest place to hell on earth. you had to stop four times because your tears were blurring your vision. when you were finally met with the “Welcome to Jackson” sign, you threw up in your mouth. your driveway mocked you as you sat in your car attempting to collect yourself. you contemplated turning around, driving back to campus and telling your mom to burn your stuff for all you care. But, you didn’t. it was late and you needed sleep. so you pulled your keys out of the ignition, grabbed your belongings and made your way to the front door. your parents greeted you with tights hugs and uncomfortable small talk.

“How’s school, sweetheart?” your mom asked, your dad sneaking off to bring your bags to your old bedroom. “its school.” you kept you answers curt. not trying to engage in useless conversation at this hour. your mom picked up on your exhaustion and excused you with a tight lipped smile. the second you entered your room you regretted the entire trip. she was everywhere. pictures of you kissing on your dresser, her hoodies in your closet and of course, her initial still around your neck, above your heart.

you walked around the room, your cheeks already wet with tears. you picked up a photo that you couldn’t bring yourself to throw out when it ended. it was you and ellie snuggled up on dina’s couch, taken by her of course. you both looked so peaceful. the photo began to blur as the tears really started to fall. your legs gave out underneath you, causing you to fall against the wall. it was like a scene from a movie, a pathetic one at that.

You couldn’t remember exactly when you had fallen asleep, but it was late. you woke up in a fetal position on the floor, with an old picture of you and Ellie held tightly to your chest. your poor back..

the morning was still, your parents were still sleeping when you woke up, something you were very much grateful for considering the amount of questions you knew were to come your way when they did finally wake up. you set the picture back in its place hesitantly.

the lower level of your house was cold, the cold floors hitting your feet woke you up as you made your way to the kitchen. almost immediately upon arrival you decided that your mothers coffee brand wouldn’t do. she always bought the gross nutmeg flavoured creamer.

coffee shop in town it is!

you always hated ben’s, the coffee was mediocre at best and priced at a whopping seven dollars, but it would suffice for today. at least until you could get to the grocery store. the walk was short, thank god. you grabbed your jacket and scarf from the hook and made your way out the door. you were surprised, but relieved that you hadn’t had the misfortune of running into anyone you used to know.

The cafe had a welcoming atmosphere that you knew all too well, yet grew to despise. you ended up hating most parts of this town, the tight knit community, the overpriced coffee, everything. then you left. in your final days of staying in jackson, it was like you were gasping for air. then finally after you had gone to university, you could breathe again.

“Is that who I think it is?!” the cashier beamed from their place behind the counter. you could recognize that voice anywhere. the voice of riley abel, a girl you had gone to school with. she was voted most likely to move far away after grad, how ironic.

‘Hey, riley. how are you?” you asked as you walked up to the counter, trying your absolute best to sound interested. you zoned out as she rambled on about her life.

you picked at your fingernails while she spoke, her voice a distant muffle. you didn’t want to be rude and tell her to shut up, but damn this girl couldn’t talk.

“Anyways, how are you? I feel like I haven't seen you in ages!” she smiled and you couldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m doing fine.” she took your awkward answer as a hint and switched the subject. small talk should be banned.

“So what can i get for you?” she asks, typing away at the ipad on the counter. you contemplated for a moment before answering. you skimmed the menu for the cheapest option that didn’t taste like shit.

“I’ll get a medium french vanilla, please.” you grab your phone from your pocket, opting for apple pay instead of cash. she gives you a small, forced smile. “your total is eight dollars and twenty-five cents. cash or card?” your eyes widen at the price. “card, please.” she nods and passes you the pin pad. you gently tap your phone on the top of it as she begins to make your coffee.

A few minutes pass before riley calls you back up to the counter. she handed you a small cup with your name written on the side, along with a small smiley face. you thanked her and smiled at her small act of kindness.

your walk home is longer, many of the places you used to frequent, bustling with people that you could recognize by face. you almost stopped a few times, pausing and staring into oblivion. you never had the guts to actually enter though.

when you arrived back home you parents were sitting around the dining table, your dad, fairly engaged in the newspaper greets you with a smile. your mother doesnt look up from her phone until you speak. “Saw riley at bennys.” she hums and looks you up and down, it was like no matter where you went there was some weird tension in the air.

“You couldn’t have made coffee at home?” she snarks, tipping her glasses off her nose. “Just wanted some fresh air.” you reply nervously, not wanting to be fighting with her already. clearly your attempts worked because she stopped there. you swallowed the lump in your throat and retreated to your room.

you weren't sure what you were going to occupy yourself for these two weeks, packing up all the shit you wanted wouldn't take more than a few hours. you contemplated just taking your belongings and going back but you knew your mom would disapprove with that idea.

you decided that the most worthwhile decision for now would be to resume your place in a current book you were reading, a silly romcom you were gifted by your roommate before you came home. at least until your mother asked you to help her bake some cookies, or run to target for some last minute christmas gifts.

six chapters in and you were finally starting to get into it when you get a text. a text from Dina, a close highschool friend. you tried to stay in contact after you left, but the relationship fizzled out into short happy birthdays, and merry christmases.

D-Dawg💘

Hey! i heard from riley that you're back for break, we all miss you.

You laugh at the corny name you assigned to her contact in high school, the name had blossomed after a drunk comment from jesse, comparing her to a dog simply because of her big brown eyes.

D-Dawg💘

were having a little get together tonight, if you’re up to it you should come by. you're always welcome.

you decided to ignore the message for now, you weren't really up for the whole forced small talk that came with seeing all your old friends again. as far as you knew they were all still hanging out, everyday, without you. instead you decided to resume your place in your book, hoping to find some sort of entertainment in it.

you’re in the middle of chapter twelve of your book, Wes and Liz had just gotten into an accident in the rain when your mom calls you down stairs. you trot down the stairs, phone in hand. when you arrive, you stick on the last step, the wooden floors still cold. you're greeted with your mother in her signature bird print apron.

“Did you wanna help me with the baking, or were you just gonna sulk in your room all break?” she asks. you clear your throat and step down the last step. you shove your phone into your hoodie pocket, “Yeah ill help, i’d love to.”

“Babe, get your damn fingers outa the cookie dough!” ellie laughs as she grabs your wrist, pulling you out of the batter. you had forced her into baking with you after you saw a stupid couples tiktok. “Relax, its just us eating them anyway.” you defend, you even noticed your precious girlfriend sneaking chocolate chips from the bowl once in a while.

“Yeah, well i don't play about my christmas cookies.” she puts her hands on her hips and glares at you jokingly. you giggle at her actions. “We can tell, fatty.” you joke, her eyes widen and her jaw drops. “What did you just say!?” her slack jaw turning into a toothy smile quickly.

“Nothin’ i didn't say nothin’” you laugh and turn back to shaping the cookies. she steps closer to you and places her hands on either sides of your hips. “Well, thats weird. cause’ I definitely heard something.” she starts moving her fingers in slow circles over your pj pants, her lips meeting your neck slowly.

“hell, ellie. why are you the horniest woman on the planet.” you drop your final cookie onto the tray and turn around to face her, her hands now moving to the sides of your face. “Not my fault I have the prettiest girlfriend ever.” she states, matter of factly. her lips now kissing your own, causing you to smile against her. you move your hands to the back of her neck, slowly twirling with the back of her hair. you both giggle against each others lips, “I love you” you whispered against her. “i love you too, baby.”

the soft moment was interrupted by the oven beeping, signaling it was time to finally bake the cookies. she pulls her hands off of your hips and reaches for the pan, nodding at you to open the oven. “Careful, don't burn yourself.” you open the oven door enough for her to slip the tray in without accidentally knocking her hand against the wall and giving herself third degree burns (again)

you both high five once the cookies were in the oven baking. “i think we make a pretty good team!” you say as you turn the tap on to wash the dough off your hands. “Hell yeah we do, baby!” ellie shouts, smacking your ass. you laugh loudly at her antics. “Ouch ellie!” you cry, pulling a towel off the counter to dry off your hands. she rolls her eyes at your exaggeration.

“Sorry, babe. want me to kiss it better?”

“Will you shut up?”

Baking cookies with your mother was a stressful, if not brutal experience. she was a bossy, nitpicky perfectionist. it was like you could never do anything right with her, everything had to be 100% perfect. she would argue that you weren't trying or you didn't care, but you did. if anything you cared too much.

“I told you to do it like this! not whatever you're doing.” she scolded and nearly ripped the bowl from your hands, demonstrating how she really wanted it done. you throw your hands in the air, “I am, fuck!” you whisper yelled in frustration. your mother abruptly dropped the bowl onto the counter. “Don't you swear at me!” she pointed her pointer finger in your face.

“Oh my god.” you mumbled under your breath. you brought two of your fingers to your temples and squeezed tightly, trying to calm yourself down. “What is your problem?!” your mother crossed her arms as she yelled. “I cant fucking- I cant do this! this is exhausting!” you quickly untied your apron and tossed it on the counter. throwing yourself up the stairs. your mother followed behind you.

“If I'm so exhausting then why don't you pack your shit and get out of my house, huh?!” she shouted, grabbing onto your arm, you pulled it away from her. “Because! you asked me to come! i thought we could've had a normal christmas for once!” by now you had salty tear drops racing down your cheeks, it wasn't pretty.

“well i shouldn't have. so that was my mistake.” she stops on the stairs when she says this. your heart stops for a moment when she says this. the tears come harder when you slam your door shut and lock it.

right now you felt like you were a teenager again, petty arguments with your mom is when you needed ellie the most, you would hop out your window and run to her house. she welcomed you with open arms and told you how much she loved you. she would hold you for hours and whisper praises into your ears while you cried.

But right now, at this moment you couldn't do that, because there was no more ellie.

After scream sobbing into your pillow like an angry child, you fell asleep.

you woke up with a throbbing headache and the need for water. you also woke up to a few unread messages from a few of your friends from highschool.

Jesseee

Hey, r u coming tn? dina said she invited u but u didn’t answer. We miss U

smartass (derogatory)

hi its abby! heard ur in town

smartass (derogatory)

we should hangout before you leave!

you sighed and glanced up at the time. 8:04pm. you had two options, go pack to sleep, or stay up and wallow in self pity. or-

D-Dawg💘

were having a little get together tonight, if you’re up to it you should come by. you're always welcome

hii dina, i’d love to see you! what time does it start? :)

D-Dawg💘

8! didnt think u were gonna reply! but def come by!

her reply came fairly quick. you glanced up at the time on your phone, 6;00. you could work with that. two hours to make sure you look good, just in case you see.. she who shall not be named. you pulled your suitcase out from under your bed. you rummaged for a few minutes until you were met with the one dress you brought with you because you knew your parents had some stupid family dinner planned for christmas day. the dress was modest, classy but not too fancy. next was your makeup makeup bag. you decided to keep your makeup simple too, so you looked good, but not like you were trying to look good.

you brought your makeup bag to the bathroom and started the shower. you usually tried to be quick with your showers considering you were using the only bathroom in the house. you let the warm water hit the back of your neck. for a while, you just sat. sat and stared at the wall. the longer you did this though, the higher your anxieties got. finally, after your neck started to burn from the water, you got on with your business, scrubbing your skin raw and washing your hair as quick as you could. you might be a little late..

after an hour and four almost-breakdowns you had gotten your hair to cooperate. you knew your makeup wouldn’t take long to get done so you before you started you checked your phone. no new notifications from anyone except dina, a simple follow up text of “it will be fun, i promise.” you debated asking her to confirm your fears of ellie’s attendance. maybe knowing would calm you just a bit.

Is she gonna be there?

please be honest.

D-Dawg 💘

she was invited, im not sure if she’ll show up though.

D-Dawg💘

Please don’t stress over this though. its been so long.

im aware, but its still scary

plus you’re all still friends. im not really part of

that anymore.

D-Dawg💘

maybe you guys could talk about it?

i can’t do that. you know i can’t

i will literally die.

likr

my life will end.

D-Dawg💘

sighs loudly…..

fine. but if she comes you

aren’t irish goodbying out my back door.

…

MAYBE.

see u soon -_-

you turned up your music and then shut off your phone, leaving it face down on the counter as you began your makeup. you gently hummed along with the lyrics as the soft brushes worked over your skin. the delicate touches reminding you of ellie’s gentle fingers tracing soft shapes into your cheeks as you slept in her arms. she was never scared to hold you, to tightly pull you into her body and keep you warm.

by the time you had finished your makeup and wiggled into your dress, it was 7:45. the drive to dinas wasn’t long and you didn't want to get there early and be left to awkwardly wait around for everyone else to arrive. so you decided to scroll on your phone to pass the time.

at 8:12 you pulled into dina’s driveway and immediately noticed the differences in her home. the christmas decorations were no longer over the top, and the driveway was shoveled neatly. dina had told you to just let yourself in when you arrived. your hand shook with anxiety as you reached the doorknob. you took one last deep breath and entered the house.

“Bitch, you’re unseasoned chicken.” are the first words you hear as you shut dinas door. you easily recognize jesses voice, throwing insults at abby over a heated card game.

“yikes.” you say, heads turn in your direction. you awkwardly laugh at the group reaction. “I told you she was coming, you dummies.” Dina shouted, her voice booming from the kitchen as she walked over to you, pulling you into a firm embrace.

you scanned the room for any sign of ellie. well, there were many things that could be considered signs of ellie around the house. like the homemade ornaments on dina’s tree. you had all had a sleepover one night in sophomore year and decided to create little hand painted ornaments for fun. ellie’s was a painting of the four of you as stick figures, yours and ellie’s had a big red heart painted over the top of their heads.

the memories flooded in as you stared down the tree, to anyone else this probably would’ve looked really weird, but your friends new. jesses voice interrupts your thoughts, you tore your eyes from the tree to look at him.

“she hasn’t shown up yet.”

and she never did.

Ellies absence didn't make the night any better, however. you hoped it would but it didn't. you were still bombarded with questions that you weren’t quite sure how to answer. dina had probably asked you about a thousand times to just talk to her! but you refused. you were not about to start up a conversation with your ex like nothing had happened between you two. especially when it was her shitty actions, not yours.

you didn't regret going but by the time it was time for you to leave you were happy to do so, your friends bargained with you to stay the night like the rest of them but you politely declined. you did promise to see then all properly before you headed back to campus, though. stating that a proper hangout was long overdue.

after you had said your goodbyes dina had offered to walk you out to your car, you told her you would be fine but she persisted.

“So, ellie texted me.” she slowed to a stop with her arms crossed. you sighed and turned around to face her, leaning your body against your car. “Do i even wanna know?” you roll your eyes. dina steps closer to you, joining you against the hood of your car. dina chuckles, trying to recall ellie’s exact words. “said she wanted to talk, she sounded apologetic” she looks up at you. scanning your face for any emotions.

“Dina-“

“Please, just listen.” she interrupts, “i miss my best friends, everyone misses you guys. nothings been the same since.” her voice going from firm and loud, to a shaky whisper. you sighed.

“I know, D. this is hard for me too. you’d think it would've gotten easier to be here, in this town but its not. i feel like i can’t breathe.” dina nods in understanding. you softly sniffle, the cold air makes your face tighten. the both of you stay silent for a while. dina knew there was more to be said, but she didn’t want to push you.

“I’m sorry.” dina looks back up at your face, her voice now held a panicked tone. you close your eyes, throwing up your hand in a worn out manner, “It’s fine-

“But its not! you’re my best fucking friend. and even though it felt like shit when you just- up and ghosted us, i understand why.” she she paused for a moment, moving her body from beside you to standing in front of you, mirroring you. “And i understand if you never wanna see ellie again, but i missed you so bad, so fucking bad.” at this point shes crying, fat tears run down her cheeks. you coo and bring her into your arms.

”oh dina, if anything i should be the one apologizing.” the shorter woman sobs into your shoulder. you both cried into each other like a cheesy soap opera. this was the one thing you missed about being in jackson. “i missed you so much”

The sound of your doorbell reverberated across your house, “ill get it!” you ran so fast to the door that you had tripped over your own feet a few times. you opened the door to reveal ellie and joel behind it. a small smile growing on her face when it was in fact you who opened the door and not your mother.

“You look pretty” she says as she walks in,you thank her with a small kiss on the cheek. “Merry Christmas!” you greet joel quickly before he retreats to the kitchen, probably to drink wine and gossip with your parents. “I like your sweater.” you look her up and down, gesturing to the wool sweater that adorned her figure.

“Oh thanks, My girlfriend got it for me!” she says sarcastically, you roll your eyes at her stupid joke. “Yeah, I know.” you grab her by the wrist and tug her up the stairs to your bedroom. you shuffled her into your room and quickly shut the door behind you.

“Would you care to see your gift?” you asked, in a pretend seductive voice. she nodded persistently and shot you a toothy grin. “Perfect!” you clap your hands together and open up your closet, retrieving a small red box with a big green ribbon wrapped around the top.

you couldn’t contain your excitement when you handed her the gift, your body was seen to be vibrating in its place. “C’mon, ellie! openitopenitopeni-“ you ramble, basically throwing the box at her. “Okay! Okay! Slow down, babe.” you both sit down on the bed, you place your arms on her shoulders. at this point you were seething in excitement.

“Holy fuck.. you didnt.” her eyes practically shoot out of her head, staring at the object in the box, a white envelope sticking out from underneath. she turns to you shocked.

“How did you even-” she grabs the walkman and few tapes out of the box. you shrug, “Antique stores are great places.” she puts the cassette into the device, the one that you were able to get your dad to burn your playlist into. the others being the smashing pumpkins and nirvana.

“Do you love it?” she doesnt answer, instead throwing herself onto you, holding you tightly. holding fistfuls of your sweater, your wrap your arms around her and kiss her forehead. “I knew you would!”

after fiddling with the foreign object for a few minutes ellie figures out how to turn it on and off, she passes you one of the wired headphones and slips the other into her own ear. The polices ‘Every breath you take’ begins playing into your singular headphone. ellie added it to your joined playlist because she swears its the song that plays every time she looks at you. How corny.

You two sit for a few moments, just listening to the lyrics.

I’ll be watching you

(every breath you take)

(every move you make)

you suddenly feel her looking at you, you turn your head to meet her gaze. her eyes were practically hearts, she looked so smitten. you smile at her and lay your head completely onto the bed and ellie sits up, careful to not disconnect the headphones from your ears. “what’re you doing?” you asked in a hushed tone. she shakes her head, “Just looking at you.” her face shifts from soft admiration to something different. then suddenly, her lips are slotted in between your own.

(every single day)

(every word you say)

she gently rubs her hand up and down your side as she moves her lips against yours, your hand making its way to the side of her face. you sighed into her mouth and gently moved your arm around to the back of her neck. your legs tangled together effortlessly when she pulls away from you. “I love you.” she whispers, you look up at her, your faces almost touching. “I love you too.” you almost moan when she dips her head back down to continue kissing you.

I’ll be watching you

That Christmas ended up being the night that you took each others virginity and tried to hide it from your nosy parents, who of course, noticed right away but didn't say anything.

Your mother and father left early in the morning to go see some of your extended family, you planned to go meet them later in the day so for now you were left by yourself to wait. you anxiety was high, but the hard part was almost over. after your dinner with your family you could shove all your things into your trunk and leave. you'd be back in the comfort of your apartment before December 26th.

For most of the afternoon you found yourself lazing around, watching movies that you've seen a thousand times before. you sigh to yourself, glancing over at the clock which reads 5:00. you decide to start getting ready.

you had just finished your makeup, your hair still tied up and your body clad in pajama when the doorbell rings. How strange you thought to yourself. who could possibly be showing up for your parents at 5pm on christmas day.

“I’m coming!” you shouted from the stairs, feet quickly moving down the steps. you probably should’ve looked through the peephole before ripping the door open because to your unpleasant surprise you were met with-

“Ellie?” your eyes widen at the sight before you. your ex girlfriend was outside your door with a bouquet of flowers and tears in her eyes.

“Hi- Hey.” she looks just as surprised as you. her green eyes wider than ever. she looked different, her usually half up, half down was now cut into a thinner mullet like haircut. you had tried avoiding any news of ellie since you moved, so her look was entirely new to you.

“What the fuck are you doing here.” you asked, your voice harsh but quiet. she looks at you in disbelief, “I- Dina told me to come see you.” she whispers. Of course she did.

“Why, Ellie.” you pause, crossing your arms. “I haven't spoken to you in almost three years, and now you're outside my door. Why?” she now looks disappointed with your reaction. she had partially hoped that you would throw yourself into her arms and tell her you missed her. but she knew that would never be.

“I messed up,” she looks down at her shoes, you clearly weren't having her half asses words. you sigh loudly. before you could shoo her away dhe interrupts you.

“I did you so dirty, and- i cant forgive myself for it. but youre the only person i've ever loved, truly.” she pleads with you unbeknownst to you, as your eyes stayed glued to the ground. “Would you please look at me-”

“I don't owe you anything ellie.” you snap, you did fulfill her request however, your eyes meeting her frantic ones. “i dont have to accept your stupid apology, why the fuck would i, ellie? what you did- what you did was so wrong. and i should hate you for it.” you slowly step out of the house, your angry pointer finger meeting her chest. tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“and im sorry, im so fucking sorry, baby. i couldn't even live with myself after what happened.” her final words making the tears finally start to stream down your face. you hadn't expected her to admit that, especially not with you practically beating your fist into her chest. but she did.

she notices your tears and grabs you by your face, she holds you as your legs buckle beneath you, something she didn't do years prior on this exact day. something she shouldn't have had to do. “Im sorry.” she whispered into your hair. her flowers now long discarded, and you crying into her arms on your parents front porch.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Ellie?” you cried, your body tensing up after her heartbreaking confession, you peered at her through wet eyelashes. and she couldn't even look at you.

“I’m sorry.” she whispered, fingers fiddling with the rings adorning her hands, the hands that held you whenever you cried, the hands that had made you see heaven just nights prior.

“You're breaking up with me cause why? ellie. im still confused as to what the fuck is happening right now.” your expression is one of incredulity.

“baby, don't do this.” your eyes widen, you couldnt fucking believe her. “Do not baby me, ellie. you’re fucking breaking up with me right now because what? did you fuck her?” her head shoots up from her lap, her bottom lip wabbling between her teeth.

“No! i- we didn't, i would never-” you scoff, rolling your eyes at her actions. trying desperately to hide the fact that she had just broke your heart into a million pieces. “Do you love her?” you ask quietly, the question you had been avoiding since the beginning in fear of its answer.

“I dunno. i just-”

“youre breaking up with me to be with her ellie so you better know if you fuckin’ love her or not.” you spit, your words harsh, but in reality you were about to have a full blown panic attack.

“I do.” she admits. and suddenly your whole world comes crashing down, four years you had wasted just for her to leave you for a girl she met two weeks ago.

your tears became heavy and all of a sudden it was hard to breathe. your vision quickly blurred, your hands shook as you lifted your glass to your lips. and your headache was hard to deny, you needed to lay down.

Your ears rung, ellie still trying to justify her unlawful acts. all you could really hear were clusters of “im sorry, Not your fault-” you sobbed uncontrollably.

Fuck you, Fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou-

“are you two ready for your menus yet?” the waitress had came out of nowhere, a sweet girl who clearly had accidentally walked in to something she couldn't just ignore.

ellie kept her head down and you made eye contact with the waitress Ruth her name tag read, “No, actually. we’re done here. Well- I am. she might be waiting for someone else.” you point at ellie, and her head raises. you quickly stand up and begin to quickly shuffle your belongings into your purse.

you wished she at least had the decency to do this in the comfort of your own home, where you could kick her out if need be, but now the entire restaurant was watching as you ran out the door with snot dripping down your nose and mascara running from your eyes to your chest. You tuned out her inescapable voice and walked all the way home.

After a long, exhausting five minutes, ellie convinced you to let her take you inside and clean you up. she wiped the mascara off of your under eyes and kissed your forehead.

“Thanks.” you muttered. “Don't mention it.” she smiled, she placed the flowers on the counter beside where you sat. you examined them, a beautiful bouquet of red and yellow flowers, like the ones she had gotten you your first christmas together. you smile at the thought. remembering your innocent love.

“what are you smiling about? hm?” she asks, you look up at her, “just thinking, about us.” she inhales a sharp breath at that. “what could've been.” you finish, reaching for the flowers, holding them in your lap.

she walks over to you, your knees now touching the front of her jean thighs thighs. “or.. what can be?” she looks down at you, an overly hopeful look on her face.

“Ellie,” you sigh, you seemed to be doing that a lot today. “I cant just let you back in like that. i mean- when did you and Cat even break up?”

“last year, october.” you nod, swallowing whatever was in your throat. “i see.” the room filling with a heavy tension. your intense eye contact has you shifting on the counter.

“Will you kiss me?” you whisper, what the fuck were you doing? she opens her mouth slightly, before grabbing you by your waist. kissing you softly, before she realized what you wanted. you moaned at the contact, and she kissed you harder.

“fuck, okay, okayokay.” she stops for a moment, you look at her confused. “are you sure you wanna do this right now?.” you nod, profusely.

she moves her hands under your shirt, quickly lifting it off your body. “No bra?” she smirks, you roll your eyes. and reach for her own T-Shirt. you slipped it off with ease, unknowingly biting your lip at the sight before you.

she grabs you again, slotting her lips between your own, you wrap your legs around her waist.

“your room?” she whispers against you, “couch.” you confirm. Ellie drops you onto the cushions, you grab at your sweats, quickly lifting your hips to get them off. ellie, preoccupied with taking her own pants off.

“fuck, you’re beautiful.” she positions her body against yours, her lips trailing from behind your esr, all the way down to your lower stomach. small praises leaving your lips at her wet kisses.

she begins to move her lips towards your clit, sticking her tongue out and licking a dtrip over your underwear. “Ellie, please.” you whimper, hips bucking up into her face. she looks up at you and begins to slip your underwear off your body.

“Fuck, youre so wet.” she observed, moving her finger to play in between your folds. you eagerly bite your lip, her face admiring you from her position between your legs. you moan softly as she begins to eat you out, swirling small circles on your soft button. “Oh, ellie!” you whimpered, your body twitching against her mouth.

“ohmygod, baby.” she moans into you, slowly slipping s single finger in and out of your sopping hole, your moans growing increasingly loud, your eyes meet her own when you entangle your hand into her hair, pulling fightly at the back if her neck.

your back arches as she adds another finger, your release so close you can feel the sweat dripping down your back. “Im cuming! ellie, ellieellie!” you scream as she fucks you through your orgasm, her fingers slightly slowing down before she pulls them out.

you beckon her between your legs again when she lift your head from between your legs, she slots her legs between yours, slowly starting ti grind into you. “missed this pussy s’bad baby.” she groans as she continues to move her hips, speeding up as she pleases. “mhm,” you moan, greedily grinding back up into her, small whimpers starting to leave her throat at the feeling of your pussy on hers.

“Tell me you love me, ellie” you ask, your voice breathy. her head snaps down, looking down at you. her movements speed up as she looos at you.

“W-What?”

“Tell me you love me.” you bump your clit against her sweet spot and she moans. “I love you, fuck! so much, i love you soso much.” she could feel her orgasm creeping up on her, she speeds up her movements between your legs. your grab at her brests, pinching her nipples between your pointer and thumb. “you gonna come?” she bites her lip, nodding at your question.

“cum all over my pussy, please ellie.” you moan loudly, her fluid slowly leaking out of her and onto you. you quicken your hips, ellies lip finding home between her teeth until she suddenly falls into you, both of you moan when she untangled your legs.

“fuck.” she whispers, looking down at the mess that spread between the two of you, connecting you. you slowly lift yourself into a now sitting position. gingerly adjusting yourself so that you don't irritate your already sensitive nerves.

“so.” ellie starts, looking over at you, her eyes again filled with hope. you sigh quietly. “So, im gonna pee and you're gonna be gone by the time im done.” you state matter-of-factly as you stand up, slipping you oversized shirt back over your body. she shakes her head in confusion. “What?! But i thought-”

“you thought what, ellie? that i was just going to let you come back? you broke my fucking heart.” you can see her starting to tear up but you ignore the fact. instead slipping your underwear back on but discarding your pants.

“i told you it was a mistake! baby, i love you!” you scoff, your lips curling up into a smile, how fucking ridiculous.

“Listen to me ellie. Im going to go pee and you're going to go home. and then, tomorrow, im going to leave this fucking town forever and i swear to god you will never fucking see me again.” you argued, ellie still sitting there, with no clothes on. you didn't think she deserved your forgiveness. You felt guilty for denying her in such a vulnerable state but you convinced yourself that she deserved it.

you begin to walk up the stairs, you can hear her stand up from the couch and slip into her clothes once again. without turning around to face her you bid your final goodbyes,

“Tell your fiancée i said hi.”

unbeknownst to ellie, you had noticed the wedding band that shined around her left ring finger. that was when you decided not to let her back in.

[likeumeanit9497]

bet | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when y/n loses a bet to chris and is forced to go to a party, she realizes that she can be a lot more fun than she thought she could be.

warnings: SMUT; unprotected p in v; oral (f receiving); choking; dirty talk; overstimulation; LOTS of plot; mentions of alcohol; 18+

notes: okay soooo...this is long. guys i try SO HARD to make my one shots shorter but I CAN'T DO IT IM SORRY I JUST LOVE CREATING A PLOT LINE TOO MUCH!!! so i 100% get it if u don't want to read all 6,857 words of this BUT i will say the smut in this is excellent. if u do choose to read this i hope u enjoy but i love ALL of u so much <333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“So after the kid shot me with the SRT I legit only had like 20 health,” Chris’s conversation was very much one-sided as you tried to keep your focus on the study material in front of you. “I didn’t have any slurp juice or bandages, so I definitely thought I was fucked because the kid was running towards me.” You began chewing on your bottom lip as you flipped through flashcards; Chris’s voice growing much too loud for the campus library. In your periphery, you could see that Chris was no longer writing notes and instead had abandoned his pencil to begin moving his hands animatedly as he continued his story. “Oh! And I was also almost out of mats. I was trying to build but he kept shooting at me so I was running out of material quick.” You sighed softly, searching through your business law textbook to find a concept that was sure to be on the test on Monday. The same test that Chris would also be taking, though he was proving to be completely disinterested in preparing himself for it as he continued to drone on about his recent Fortnite win.

“Chris,” You began, finally turning to face him. “I’m sure it’s all very impressive, but we have a pretty big midterm on Monday, remember? That’s the whole reason we’re here.” You shoot him a smile to hopefully soften your words, but thought to yourself that if you had known he was going to be so distracting, you never would have agreed to study with him. Chris blinked at you, a cocky smile pulling at the corner of his lips. He leaned back in the library chair and rested his hands against his stomach. You didn’t know Chris very well, as typically you only really spoke to each other in class, so you couldn’t really gauge his reaction to your words. You watched him for a moment, analyzing the way that his glittery-blue eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again. “But business law is so boring.” He finally replied, humour laced in his voice.

You chuckled, splitting your flashcards in half and handing a stack of them to him. “I know, trust me. But you have to study or else you’ll be fucked Monday morning.” You replied, and with a sigh he took your offered flashcards and straightened up in his chair. “Fine,” He huffed, “But I can’t stay very late, I’ve got a party to go to.” He wiggled his eyebrows cheekily as he spoke, and you stayed silent as you fought the urge to roll your eyes. Finally, you both began flipping through your respective flashcards in silence, the only distraction being the occasional brush of Chris’s arm against yours. You finally felt yourself fall into the satisfying feeling of being laser focused on the material in front of you, when Chris’s voice once again broke the silence.

“Speaking of parties, how come I never see you at any of them?” He asked, dropping his half of the flashcards onto the work table and reaching for his phone. Sighing, you barely flicked your eyes up in acknowledgement before giving him a curt response. “Not my scene.” You replied simply, hoping that answer was enough. “I don’t know if I believe that.” He replied, his voice filled with humour once again. “Hmm?” You rested your head in your hand as you continued haphazardly reading the cards. He stayed silent for a moment, and you could feel his eyes burning into you as he searched for a response. “I mean, I’ve seen plenty of your friends out.” You shrugged. “They’re more fun than I am.”

“Now I know that’s not true.” His words were finally enough to make you drop your own flashcards and turn to face him. “Chris, it’s a Friday night and I’m sitting in the library — where I plan on staying until I’m practically forced out at closing time — doing my very best to study for a midterm that I’ve been prepared to write for about two weeks. I spend so much time in this exact chair that I wouldn’t be surprised to show up one day and see a plaque with my name on it. This is my idea of fun. So how exactly do you think otherwise?” Chris smiled at you, his eyes glimmering with humorous appreciation. “I’ve got a sixth sense for these things, Y/n.” He shrugged, his voice a low, taunting whisper. You scoffed, shocked by his presumption that he knows you more than he really does.

“In fact,” He began again, making you close your eyes out of sheer frustration. “I think I can prove it.” You turned to face him once again, shockingly intrigued by his statement. Raising one eyebrow, you encourage him to continue. “Let’s make a bet.” You tilted your head, unable to hide your curiosity. “A bet.” You repeated. He nodded his head and leaned back in his chair. “We quiz each other with what’s on these flashcards. If you win, I’ll leave the library so you can study in peace, but if I win, you come to the party with me tonight.”

Your eyes widened in shock as you took in his proposition. The thought of going to a party on any weekend made you uneasy, but on the Friday before a major midterm it sounded disastrous. “And what if I say I don’t want to be a part of this bet at all?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest. Chris smirked and shrugged. “Then I guess you’ll have to put up with me. As a matter of fact, I bet I could stay a little later, too. I have plenty of stories to share with you.” You groaned out loud as he sent you a quick wink. “I hate parties!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation.

“What? Don’t think you can answer more questions right than me?” He asked, his teasing voice laced with humour. But his words brought you to the realization that he was right, of course you wouldn’t have to go to the party. There was no way that Chris would be able to get more of the flashcard questions that you wrote correct. So, after a few more moments of contemplation, you shrugged your shoulders and straightened up in your chair. “Fuck it, I’m in.” A smile grew on Chris’s face as he took your hand and shook it; sealing the deal.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Yes! Let’s fucking go!” Your face dropped as you watched Chris jump from his seat, fists pumping the air as he circled your work table, soaking in his win. Once he reached you, he grabbed your shoulders and shook them lightly, pulling you from your shocked disassociation. “How the fuck did that just happen?” You asked, your voice weak as you looked at the tally score you had made on a scrap piece of paper. At the start of your little competition, you had actually been pleasantly surprised to see Chris answering the first few questions right. But, as you got closer and closer to the end, and with that, your scores eventually becoming tied, you suddenly became nervous. When you got your last question wrong, you felt your stomach drop, knowing that in order for you not to lose the bet Chris would have to get his last one wrong as well. But, to your horror, his answer was perfectly correct.

“I bet you underestimated me, huh?” Chris taunted as he began packing up his backpack. Shaking your head, you pulled your exasperated body up, collecting your own study supplies. “I guess I did.” You replied sheepishly, and without even looking you could feel Chris lean towards you. “You should never underestimate me.” He whispered, causing shivers to crawl down your spine. Then, his mood suddenly shifted back to his previous giddiness as he slung his backpack onto one shoulder. “So, text me your address. I’ll pick you up around 9:00 and we’ll walk to the party together, sound good?” Chris’s voice was so sickly sweet, riddled with excitement at the expense of both your shattered ego and distaste for your sudden plans. With a huff, you begin walking with him towards the library exit. “Sounds great.” You replied, your words filled with sarcasm and resentment.

𓆩♡𓆪

“Just a second!” You called, your voice shrill and panicked, as you scrambled around your apartment trying to do up your black corset while running to answer the door. Groaning, you momentarily give up on the corset and use one hand to hold it together in the back while you opened the front door. “Sorry, I just need another minute to get this damn top on.” You muttered in frustration, skipping over any greeting with Chris standing at the door. You turned around immediately, leaving the door open for him to enter as you walked into your bedroom and stood in front of you mirror.

Chris chuckled as he stepped into your apartment and followed you into your bedroom. “Having some trouble there?” He teased, nudging his chin to your undone top. You huffed as he leaned against your bedroom doorframe, crossing his arms as he took great pleasure in watching you struggle with your top.

“This thing is fucking impossible to put on!” You exclaimed, contorting your body into unflattering positions in an attempt to see what you were doing as you worked at clipping up one of the many clasps. Your eyes fell to your clock, noticing that it was exactly 9:00. “I’m sorry Chris, are we gonna be late?” You asked as you continued to struggle with your top.

“It’s a party, Y/n,” Chris began, pushing himself off from the doorframe and walking towards you. “We can’t be ‘late’.” Without asking for permission, Chris mindlessly walked up behind you to begin helping with your fussy corset. You stilled as you felt his cold knuckles brush against your spine as his fingers expertly maneuvered the stubborn clips into place. “Thank you.” You managed to whisper, even though your mouth had suddenly grown bone dry.

Once he fastened the last clip, Chris took a moment to step back and check over his work. Nodding in approval, you watched him through the mirror as his eyes drifted along your entire outfit. “Damn. I didn’t think you even owned anything like this.” He laughed, locking eyes with you in the mirror. You took a moment of your own to look at the lacy black corset and black mini skirt covering your body, and mirrored his laugh.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been dragged to a party, you know.” Chris made a cheeky face at you through the mirror. “Dragged is a crazy word. I prefer to think of it as you finally allowing yourself to spend your Friday night like a normal 21 year old college student.” You turned away from the mirror and rolled your eyes, reaching for your purse on the bed to make sure you had everything in it that you might need tonight. Chris chuckled as you began stuffing your purse with your lip combo and perfume of the night, and suddenly you felt the heat of his body behind you as he stepped closer to you. “You know, we can blow off this party if you really don’t want to go.”

You let out a soft gasp and your eyes fluttered shut at his warm whispers in your ear. His mouth lingered just inches from your ear as he waited for a response, but confusion washed over your body like lava. After what could have possibly been too long of an unbearable silence, you broke it by laughing dryly. “Yeah yeah, but I lost the bet…remember?” While you tried to keep your voice steady, you winced at how weak your words came out. Chris laughed softly, his breath warming your skin deliciously. “Ah yes, the bet.” He replied, his voice much lower than it had been before. You shivered as you felt his thumb trail softly down your bare arm. “We better get going then.”

You took a deep breath before turning around to face him. Looking up at him through your false eyelashes, you took a moment to examine his curious expression. His eyes looked soft as they glimmered in the dim lighting of your bedroom, but there was a barely distinguishable tension in his jaw — as though he was clenching his teeth in discomfort or strain — as he stared down at you. “Okay.” You finally replied, your voice a hoarse whisper.

You suddenly felt chilled as Chris’s body moved away from yours, and were completely shocked by the wave of disappointment that crashed through your system. As Chris helped you slip on your black jacket and you both walked out of your apartment and towards the party, you couldn’t help but ask yourself: what would have happened if you took the option not to go to the party?

It was a short walk to the house party, but by the time you and Chris walked up to the front door, you were beginning to grow squirrelly with nerves. It had been a long time since you had gone to a party, and you were sure that you had never been at this particular house before. As if he was reading your mind, Chris nudged your shoulder softly. “Hey, it’ll be fun,” You turned to look at him, giving him a weak smile. He leaned in closer to your ear, as if he was preparing to tell you a secret. “This is actually my place, so you’re already tight with the host.” You looked at him, slightly shocked that the party was at his home yet he chose to meet you at your place first, but it did calm your nerves slightly.

That changed as soon as Chris opened the front door. Immediately, you were met by a throng of unfamiliar people scattered throughout the house, loud music blaring, and scattered beer bottles and solo cups along the floor. After shooting you a reassuring look, Chris led you up the stairs to the main part of his home; filled with even more people and even more mess. A handful of people walked up to Chris in greeting, and you felt like an invader of the party; even though Chris made sure to introduce you to everyone he was talking to.

Just when you were about to ask Chris to show you where the washroom was — in which you planned to spend the rest of this horrifying night in hiding — you heard your name get called over the incessant chatter. Turning your head in the direction of the living room, you noticed three of your best friends on the couch, smiling and waving their hands in your direction. “You bitch! Why didn’t you tell us you were coming out?”

You felt the weight of humiliation and awkwardness lift off of you, and you shot them a warm smile before turning to Chris. Noticing your friends, he tilted his head in their direction and smiled kindly down at you. “Go ahead, I’ll find you later.” With a childish giggle, you squeezed his arm as a gentle sign of appreciation before quickly scampering off to your friends on the couch.

𓆩♡𓆪

After giving your friends a detailed explanation of how you ended up at the party — and after drinking more than your fair share of beer — you had melted into a state of bliss that was nearly unrecognizable to you. Never before had you truly enjoyed yourself at a party, yet at that very moment, it felt as though you were morphing into a completely different person; one much more confident and certainly more relaxed.That definitely had to do with the liquor burning through your veins, and maybe even the fact that a certain pair of blue eyes had been planted on you the whole night.

Laughing at something one of your friends’ said, your eyes traveled across the room and locked onto Chris’s from his place in the kitchen. You watched as a smirk pulled at the corner of his pink lips before he curled two fingers in the air; subtly calling you over. “I’ll be back in a bit.” You said to your friends before pulling your body — heavy from the alcohol — off of the couch and walking over to Chris at the kitchen counter.

He watched you, his head tilted ever so slightly as if he was studying you, as you approached him. You realized in that moment just how warm your cheeks felt as you finally reached him, standing just inches from his leaning frame. “You know, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it looks like you’re having a bit of fun over there.” He said, his voice laced with amusement. You made an attempt at rolling your eyes. “Alcohol can make anything fun.” You replied, feeling too stubborn to admit that your night was going much better than you had expected. Chris straightened up and turned to the counter where he grabbed a bottle of tequila and began filling up two shot glasses. “Well in that case, I think you should take a shot with me.”

You smiled and stayed silent as you watched him pour the liquid into the small glasses. You couldn’t help but admire his side profile as his long eyelashes framed his slightly reddened eyes, and his teeth bit down on his lower lip in concentration. Even with your blurred vision, you could see the faint sprinkle of freckles along the soft slope of his nose, and appreciated the soft flush of baby pink — no doubt a gift granted to you by his consumption of alcohol — along his cheeks.

You snapped out of it once he turned back to face you, holding out a shot — noticeably less full than the one in his other hand — for you to grab. You obliged, and held it up in a cheers with him before you both tilted your heads back, wincing at the familiar burn as the tequila slid down your throat. “Lime.” You cried out, your voice hoarse from the liquor, and rather quickly Chris grabbed a pre-cut lime wedge out of a bowl and brought it to your lips. You opened your mouth and wrapped your lips around the slice; sucking the sour juice from it while looking up at Chris with a scrunched up face as you ignored the strange flutter in your stomach — a flutter that was most definitely not from the alcohol.

You pulled your eyes away from Chris as you plucked the lime out of your mouth. Hearing him chuckle, you looked back up at him. “Another?” He asked, holding up the bottle of Casa Migos. Regrettably, you nodded your head. “But do you have any salt?” You asked, to which Chris responded by immediately reaching over into a cabinet to his right. As he searched through the cabinet, your eyes fell onto his exposed neck typically hidden by his messy curls — his skin slightly glistening.

As he turned back to face you, a shaker of salt in his hand, you felt your mood suddenly shift into one filled with desire. Forcing a smile onto your face, you managed a small thank you. Noticing your change in mood, Chris’s eyes seemed to scan across your features for a moment in silence. “Lick the back of your hand.” He ordered, his voice low and slightly deeper than before. Instinctually, you brought your hand up to your mouth. But just as you were about to run your hand against your tongue, you were suddenly overcome with an urge — and with it, a wave of uncharacteristic confidence.

“Actually, can I do something?” You asked, looking up at Chris through your eyelashes. Your eyes fixed on his neck, and you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed slightly. “Sure.” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. As the word left his mouth, you took the salt shaker from his hand and sprinkled some into your own open palm. “Fill the shot glasses.” You told him, and he immediately obliged. Looking back up at his face — his gorgeous features laced with confusion — you took one deep breath before moving closer to him, your bodies now so close that with each breath your chest brushed against his. His eyes were filled with shock at your sudden proximity, but he stayed perfectly still as he waited to see what you were going to do.

Slowly, so slowly, you brought your mouth to his neck before running your tongue along his creamy skin. As you did, a short gasp fell from his lips and you felt his body stiffen against you. Sticking to efficiency, you quickly pulled your tongue away before lacing your free hand through his curls; using your grip to tilt his head so that you could sprinkle the grains of salt against his wet skin. Pulling back, you caught a glimpse of Chris’s face — cheeks even more flushed and his eyes momentarily shut in bliss — before he looked down at you with uncertainty.

Untangling your hand from his hair, you reached for your shot on the counter and held it up. “Cheers.” You whispered, a small smirk tugging at your lips. Chris blinked a few times before picking up his own shot and clinking it against yours. His eyes stayed glued to yours as you both took your shots, and before the tequila had a chance to hit you with its after shock, you wrapped your lips around the patch of salt along his neck. Even in the loud room, you could swear you heard a soft moan fall from Chris lips, and you felt his pulse quicken against your mouth as you took your time licking away every grain of salt.

It wasn’t long before all of the salt had melted against your tongue, but still you continued to gently nibble and suck the delicate skin on his neck. As you did, Chris sucked in a sharp breath before gripping onto your ass tightly and pulling you against him. You released your own soft moan at the feeling of his large hand digging into your plush skin, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Jesus, Y/n.” Chris groaned. Against your front, you began to feel a fast-growing bulge press against you. Your mouth travelled tantalizingly slow against his skin, until you reached his ear. Grabbing his earlobe between your teeth and gently tugging on the soft skin, you whispered. “You should never underestimate me, either.”

At that, you heard an impressed chuckle. You pulled away from his skin and looked up at him, just inches from his soft lips. So close that you could feel his warm breath against your face, you began to feel intoxicated — not by the tequila, but by him. His hand stayed firmly planted on your ass, the tips of his fingers just barely whispering against your burning heat. The two of you seemed to find yourselves in some sort of stare down — neither of you moving closer to or away from the other — trying to gauge what the other wanted.

Finally, your eyes dropped to his glistening lips, and as if they had a magnetic pull you felt yourself inch closer and closer to them. Noticing this, Chris began pulling forward too, until you could feel his desire burning against your skin. Just as your lips brushed against his, you gasped for air before panting out: “Bedroom.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Chris grabbed onto your hand and began leading you to a set of stairs descending into the basement. You could hear your own pulse over the music as it began growing more distant when you both reached the bottom of the stairs. Once you reached a locked door, Chris began pounding against it urgently. “Get the fuck out of my room!” He called through the door, and as you heard the sound of panicked shuffling on the other side he turned to face you; his eyes exuding pure desire as he ran his thumb pad against your lower lip.

You jumped as the door suddenly burst open and watched as two undone people slipped past you both; actively avoiding eye contact. As soon as they passed you, Chris grabbed onto your waist and pulled you into the dimly lit room. Without even a moment to adjust to your surroundings, you gasped as Chris slammed you against the closed door and engulfed your open mouth with his own. You moaned at the feeling of his lips moulding to yours, bringing with them a relief to the tension that had been building between you all night.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you welcomed it with a gasp. You relished in the feeling of his tongue completely and utterly dominating not just your mouth, but your whole body, as you felt yourself weaken in between the wooden door and his towering frame. Your head began to spin at the unfamiliar yet intoxicating taste of his lips, just as you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees in front of you.

His eyes drilled into yours for a moment, as though he was checking to make sure you were okay with what he was about to do. When you knit your brows together and began sucking on your bottom lip — desperate for his touch — he shot you a cocky smirk before drawing his attention to what was in his direct line of sight. His hands slid from your waist down to your thighs, where he began massaging them slowly while simultaneously dropping wet kisses against your burning skin.

Reacting to this, you inadvertently spread your legs further apart. As you did, you felt his lips curl into a smile against your skin as he continued running his tongue against your inner thighs. While continuing to drive you crazy with his mouth, he brought his hands up to the zipper of your skirt. As he fiddled with with the metal, he spoke against your skin. “You want this?” A soft moan fell from your lips, eliciting a chuckle from his. “I need to hear you say it, baby.” He urged, causing your chest to rise and fall rapidly. “Y-yes.” You finally managed to reply, gasping for air as you did. At your response, Chris gently nibbled at the sensitive skin on your thigh, just below the end of your skirt, as he began sliding the black material down your legs. “Good girl.” He praised just as he let the skirt drop to your ankles.

Now with just your sheer panties between his warm mouth and the place you needed it the most, you began squirming as he took a moment to admire your barely-covered heat. He brought his hands up from their place on your thighs to the soft wisp of hair along your bikini line. You shivered in pleasure from his touch so close to where you were aching for him, and watched as his eyes seemed to grow enlivened by his view. “Didn’t expect you to be wearing something like this under that skirt.” He uttered, his voice thick with desire as he toyed with the sheer material. “What did I say about underestimating me?” You replied through your breathlessness.

With that, Chris looked up at you through his thick eyelashes, a smirk cemented into his face, before hooking his thumbs onto either side of your sheer thong and dragging it excruciatingly slow down your legs; until you were suddenly completely bare in front of him. As your pussy radiated desire just inches from his face, his smirk was replaced by one of agony; as if he was suddenly desperate to bury himself into its warmth. He grabbed both of your thighs, firmly pulling them further apart, before he ran his tongue slowly along your dripping slit; his eyes drilling into you as he did. You watched as a pool of your slippery arousal gathered on his tongue, and only once he swallowed your juices did his eyes flutter closed; officially losing himself.

You cried out as soon as his warm mouth wrapped around your pulsing clit, creating an infrangible suction that caused your hips to involuntarily buck into him. Chris moaned against your bundle of nerves, sheer enjoyment plastered to his softened expression, as you laced your thin fingers through his curly hair. “Jesus.” You moaned out incoherently, unable to form a genuine thought as Chris’s tongue worked you through shock waves of pleasure. He groaned against your pussy in response, his face completely buried in between your wet folds.

You gasped as you felt his finger begin to circle your hole, teasing your entrance as it begged him for more. Noticing your flexing walls and dripping arousal, Chris slipped two hooked fingers into your spongey cunt; pumping them into you with vigour as his mouth continued to work against your throbbing clit. The room filled with the wet sounds of Chris’s fingers plunging into you, and you felt that familiar tension in your lower stomach begin to grow nearly unbearable. Your grip on his hair tightened, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding your slick heat against his eager mouth.

“F-fuck C-Chris, I — FUCK!” You struggled to speak as you began to lose control of your body, writhing under his hold on you as though you were trying to run from your impending orgasm. In response, Chris’s fingers began to pump into you even quicker, drawing a long moan from your lips. “It’s okay baby,” He reassured you against your clit, his voice an octave lower than usual, “Make a mess all over me.” Your back arched against the door, his encouraging words drawing you closer to your orgasm. Chris used his free hand to grab your thigh, lifting it off the ground and resting it on his shoulder; granting him access to pump his thick fingers even deeper into you.

As he pounded his fingers into your g-spot relentlessly, your body momentarily stilled as you were hit with white-hot pleasure. “Fuck!” You cried out as the waves began crashing into you, causing your body to now begin to convulse uncontrollably. Your nails dug into his scalp as you struggled to stay upright throughout your earth-shattering orgasm. Once he felt your walls begin to pulse around his fingers, he quickly slid them out; allowing you to ride through your high as his mouth began ardently drinking up your warm juices.

As soon as he noticed your moans begin to calm down, he lifted you off of your shaky legs and carried you to the bed. As he walked, he effortlessly undid the many clips on the back of your corset; freeing your full tits and wrapping his wet, swollen lips around one. As he swirled his tongue around your pebbled nipple, he gently laid you down along the edge of his large bed. With a pop he pulled his mouth off of your tit before heedlessly unbuckling his pants and slipping them down his legs, before doing the same with his boxers. You watched in awe as his cock sprung free, feeling that insatiable need grow even stronger deep inside of you.

“Need to feel that soaked fucking pussy wrapped around my cock so fucking bad.” Chris murmured, collecting the fast-growing arousal from your slit on his fingers before using the slippery fluid to stroke his member a few times. Leaning down, he drew your lips to his in a desperate and sloppy kiss, and as he did you felt the girth of his tip pressing incessantly against your dripping entrance. Groaning in anticipation, you writhed under his grip and wrapped your legs around his waist.

Unable to hold back, Chris released a guttural moan against your cheek as he suddenly slammed every inch of himself into you. You cried out in pleasure as his cock pumped into you hard and fast without giving you a moment to adjust to his size. His incessant groans and sharp breathing let you know how good your pussy felt as it enveloped his swollen shaft. “C-Chris y-you’re hu-uge!” You managed to cry out, your eyes bulging from your head as you felt your walls stretch to accommodate his size.

At that, Chris lifted his head from your cheek and dropped his eyes to watch your swollen pussy as his cock continued to pound into it. He brought a hand to your lower stomach, pressing down so that you could see the bulge that his cock was imprinting into it. With an arrogant smile on his lips, he looked back up to your fucked-out face. “You’re takin’ it so good, baby.” His words made your head spin, and you released a loud moan as you gripped onto his arms. Chris looked back down at where your pussy was swallowing his cock, and you watched his jaw go slack as he seemed to relish in the magnificent pleasure that the sight brought him.

“This pussy was fuckin’ made for me.” He groaned out, his voice low as though he was speaking to himself rather than you. Still, his obsession drew another wave of pleasure through your body, and you desperately wanted to see what he was seeing. With shaky limbs, you managed to lift your shoulders up, resting the weight of your upper body on your elbows. You gasped as you watched Chris’s thick cock disappear inside of you again and again; pulling ribbons of your arousal out on each thrust and spreading them along your inner thighs and his lower stomach.

Chris’s eyes lifted up to yours, where they stayed as he continued to pound into you. Suddenly, he brought a veiny hand to your throat; gently squeezing the sides as he bit on his lower lip. “You see how fuckin’ pretty your pussy looks milking my cock?” You let your eyes drop back to the place where your bodies met, entranced by the sight of your bright pink lips wrapping around his length. “If I died inside of you right now, I would die a happy fucking man.” He leaned forward and melted his soft lips to yours, kissing you so deeply that your head spun.

Chris’s pace began to slow; becoming much sloppier. Deep grunts fell from his lips as he dropped his forehead onto your collarbone where he placed wet, open mouthed kisses as he plunged up into your g-spot. “Fuuuuck.” He hissed, his breath warm against your clammy skin as he seemed to get caught up in how good he was feeling. “Chris.” You breathed, your brain turning to mush as you felt every inch of his cock slip through your walls at this new, excruciatingly slow, pace.

Suddenly, his movements completely stilled as he leaned over you and grabbed a pillow from the top of his bed. He straightened himself up on top of you, grabbing your waist and lifting it effortlessly as he slid the pillow under your lower back. Confused, you look up at him with knitted brows; your chest rising and falling. Noticing your un-asked question, Chris spoke. “I’m gonna cum in a minute,” He said, slowly beginning to slide in and out of you again. “And when I do, I wanna feel your pussy convulsing around me.”

With that, Chris pressed one hand firmly onto your lower stomach while using two fingers to spread apart the protective hood above your clit. With his other hand, he brought his thumb to your exposed clit and began rubbing it gently; relishing in the way your body flexed erotically each time he did. Your moans slipped past your lips in helpless squeaks, feeling overstimulated by Chris’s direct contact with your bundle of nerves in unison with the added pressure in your gut caused by his hand pressing against it. “G-god!” You cried out, grabbing onto both of Chris’s wrists as he continued working your clit and fucking you senseless; unsure of whether you were trying to pull his hands away or keep them exactly where they were.

Chris’s eyes stayed glued to your swollen clit, but his breathing grew more and more ragged as he quickly approached his orgasm. You could feel his cock swelling inside of you as he struggled to hold himself back. “Fuck,” He growled, his cheeks even more flushed than before, “Cum for me baby, please.” His voice broke at the end of his sentence, a clear sign that he was on the edge of losing control. You felt your own walls begin to crash down, sending you closer and closer to what was sure to be an earth-shattering orgasm. “P-please — a-almost there.” You whined, your back arching off of the bed as you began to feel as though you were being lit on fire.

Chris dropped his forehead onto your chest, being sure to keep his movements the same as he released soft moans against your skin. “Come on sweetheart.” He grunted as he thrusted up into you, running dangerously low on will-power, “Let me feel you cum for me.” The gritty desperation in his voice was enough to finally push you over the edge. As soon as he felt that first intense pulse reverberate through your walls, he finally allowed himself to lose all control. His hips began pounding into you incessantly as your legs tightened around his waist. Deep, brutish moans fell from his lips on each thrust as his thumb continued to rub against your clit.

“Jesus fuck!” You cried out, feeling the pressure that had been building in your stomach release as you squirted against Chris’s pelvis. As you did, Chris’s thrusts suddenly stilled, and while his thumb toyed with your clit, he released a guttural moan before you felt his warm fluid spill into your quivering pussy. His swollen cock pulsed in between your walls, and you moaned in unison with him as he began to rock himself in and out of you slowly; using your tight pussy to milk himself dry.

Once both you and him came back down to earth, Chris collapsed into your chest; laying there for a moment as you both struggled to catch your breath. Your hands fell onto Chris’s curly hair, which you ran your fingers through slowly as he drew small circles on your hip bone; both of you helping the other get back to their sober minds.

After a short while, Chris planted an affectionate kiss to your chest before lifting himself up. He pulled out of you slowly, his glazed eyes watching as his cum dripped out of you. You watched as he reached over the edge of the bed and grabbed his discarded t-shirt. After shooting you a charming smile, he gently grabbed your right thigh, spreading it slightly before using the soft material of the t-shirt to delicately wipe away the mess he had made of you. “You sore?” He asked, his voice gentle as he gazed up at you. You nodded, looking up at him with a smile as you leaned back on your elbows. “Nothing I can’t handle.” You added, sticking your tongue out cheekily.

“I am gonna need your help with the corset again before we head back upstairs, though.” You sighed, gesturing to the discarded pile of lace and buckles on the floor. Chris’s eyes followed to where you pointed. “Or…” He began, tugging at the edge of his comforter, “We could just stay down here?” Your eyes drifted up to his face, and you were met with a sheepish, tired smile. Feeling a wave of relief wash over you, you crawled to the top of the bed and curled under the warm blanket. “Thank God.” You muttered, earning another smile from Chris before he followed you into the sheets.

He pulled you into his arms, and you closed your eyes at the comforting feeling of the warmth emanating from his naked body. Exhaustion began to immediately overtake you, and you felt yourself grow heavy in his arms. “Are you sure you don’t want to go back up?” You asked, worried that he might just feel obligated to be there with you, “You’re gonna miss out on all the fun.” Your voice was now thick with sleep. Chris chuckled, squeezing you gently in his arms. “All the fun is right here. I told you, Y/n, my sixth sense never fails me.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[bread-crum206]

A Game of Hearts

Chapter six: In the Quiet of the Storm

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

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The night air felt heavy, like it was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. The rain was coming down in thick sheets, but instead of offering any comfort, the sound of it pounding against the windows only seemed to highlight the emptiness of the sitting room. You stood there, staring out at the sprawling ocean, your thoughts just as clouded as the sky outside.

It had been a day since the games began. One. One day. The moment that loud, obnoxious and robotic voice blared across the compound, it felt like everything else in the world just… stopped. The strange, suffocating tension between you and him had taken a backseat to the madness that had already started. And yet, you couldn’t help but find your thoughts drifting back to him, over and over. It seemed that he was the only thing you could think about sometimes.

The whole day had been consumed by the task of redesigning the VIP room. You’d tried to throw yourself into it, tried to use it as a distraction, but the room’s original design—gold and black jungle motifs with naked models in every corner—felt like a grotesque reminder of everything wrong with this place. You had to change it. You had to. But how could you make it feel… right? And more than that, how could you do it without drawing attention to yourself?

———————

It was late now. Hours had passed since you’d last seen him, and yet, you couldn’t shake the feeling of him lingering in the air. Everything felt like it was on the edge of shifting. But what? You didn’t know.

The sound of the door creaking open behind you snapped you out of your thoughts. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. You could feel him.

“You’re still up,” his voice was low, rougher than usual, like he’d been carrying the weight of the world all day. But you didn’t answer him right away. The air between you both was thick with something unspoken, and the last thing you wanted was to break the silence.

When you did finally speak, your words came out without thinking. “I couldn’t sleep.”

It wasn’t just the rain, or the work. It wasn’t even the games. You just felt… restless. Like everything in this place was slowly swallowing you up, and you couldn’t escape it, no matter how hard you tried.

His boots clicked against the floor, a soft, deliberate sound as he approached. When you finally turned to face him, you met his gaze—those cold, unreadable eyes. They hadn’t changed since you first met him, but you could swear there was something different about the way he looked at you now. It wasn’t softness, but maybe something like… exhaustion? A weariness that didn’t belong to the mask he wore so carefully.

“You’ve been quieter than usual,” you said, your voice steady but tinged with something you couldn’t place. You weren’t sure if it was concern or frustration. It felt like both.

“I have my reasons,” he replied, the words curt, but there was an undercurrent of something else in them. Something that made you want to press further, but you didn’t. Not yet.

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you hesitated. “Is it because of that night?” The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and immediately, you regretted it. It had only been a few days since that awkward exchange by the window, and you still weren’t sure what to make of it.

For a brief moment, his eyes softened, just enough for you to catch it before the walls slammed back into place. The mask fell over his face like a curtain. “That night was… unnecessary,” he said, his voice low, tight.

You wanted to argue. You wanted to say that everything about this was unnecessary, this marriage, this life, this twisted game you both were stuck in. But instead, you swallowed the words. Silence filled the space between you.

“I don’t know how to do this, you barely speak to me, I don't even know your name!” You didn’t know what else to say, your voice was barely above a whisper. It wasn’t just the two of you, it was everything. The games. The VIP room you were redesigning, trying to make something decent out of the mess you’d been handed. The loneliness that was starting to settle in, creeping up on you every time you thought about what was happening outside.

He took a step closer, and this time, you didn’t look away. You noticed the exhaustion in his posture, how the usual rigidness in his stance had softened just a little. His eyes, usually so guarded, seemed… worn. Tired. “Neither do I,” he admitted quietly, his voice rough, like admitting it hurt. “But I don’t have a choice.”

The words hit you harder than you expected. You had always known, in some way, that neither of you had a choice in this. But hearing him say it so plainly, so quietly, made it feel real. Too real.

“You don’t have to keep doing this alone,” you said, your voice barely audible, but there was an honesty in it that surprised even you.

He stared at you for what felt like an eternity, his gaze flicking over your face like he was trying to figure you out, trying to understand what you meant. Finally, he spoke, his voice gruff. “I’m not doing this alone.”

Before you could process what he meant, his fingers brushed lightly against your arm. It was so quick, you almost wondered if you imagined it. But the shock of it was real—his touch sent a jolt of warmth through your body, like a bridge snapping into place between you.

For a split second, the distance between you seemed to vanish. It was a fleeting moment, but it was there. And then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone. He pulled his hand back, his usual indifference sliding back into place. “I should go,” he said, his voice cold once more.

You nodded, but before he could leave, your voice broke the silence. “Wait.”

He paused but didn’t turn around.

“You… you don’t have to be alone, either,” you said, your voice shaking now, unsure whether you meant it for him or for yourself. “I don’t want you to be.”

There was a long, agonizing silence. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. You could feel his presence like a weight in the room, but there was something about it—something vulnerable in the way he stood there, even with his back to you.

When he finally spoke, his words were barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to be anything else.”

And with that, he was gone. The door clicked softly behind him, leaving you standing alone, the rain still pounding against the windows.

———————

This is chapter six! Let me know how you like it! I have more ready!! :)

Tag list:

@sunny21200

@lucinda-reads

@shakysif

@whoisbriannaa

@allmylovegoestomusic

@swthrtbyeol

@strawberrychita

@hoddystark

@livelaughcelica

@foulbreadpaenut

@write-from-the-heart

@angelofthorr

@sylviavf

@missroro

@siloveyourmoms

@luv1ze

@audrey223

@khaylin27

@gay4hotmilfs

@mimis-u3u

@captainlunaxmen

@cdej6

[copilot-crashout]

Anyway, I wanted to ask how the tulpar crew would react to reader style. Is gyaru that includes heavy makeup, long nails , a short skirt, etc? In which, they always think she’s a bitch for her style but is the most sweetest person ever? Please and thank you if you have the time!!

Pairing: Tulpar crew x fem!reader

Content Warning: Jimmy's part has brief mentions of misogynistic ideology and language. ( -᷄ _ -᷅ ; )

[A/N]: This was a really fun ask. Thank you! o(≧▽≦)o I like your pfp also, I love ALNST!! Happy New Year to everyone reading!

CAPTAIN CURLY:

-> As a kid, the first lesson he was taught was to never judge a book by its cover. No matter how extravagant it was. The same applies to you, and he's so thankful for it.

-> If you ever want to take pictures of your outfits, he'll be the best cameraman ever. He'll tell you where to stand and take multiple pictures before returning your phone. He'll take them from different angles, asking you to move slightly to get better lighting. Back home, he'll steal your phone, sending himself all the photos he had taken as keepsakes, grinning like a fool. Yeah, he really is lucky to have you.

-> Definitely buys you clothing to match your style! He wants to support your hobbies as much as he can, noting what he sees you wearing the most often! Takes you out on dates to try and find different pieces for both of you. He has you sitting outside his dressing room before stepping out in a simple low-cut shirt and khaki pants you swore he had at home. He does a little spin, walking slightly to test the fit of his trousers before he faces you, a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"What do you think, honey? You're the fashionista out of the two of us."

-> Bless his heart, the man really is clueless. He'd be happy to learn from you, though! Ask to dress him up in a similar style and he's hesitant. He's comfortable with what he knows. He'd much rather spend it on you, to see you smile in those gorgeous outfits.

DAISUKE:

-> He thinks it's so cool! He's not one to judge right off the bat, especially as to someone's style. However, his mood dampers once he's aware not everyone thinks like that. He hears the curt answers people give you, the whispers behind your back and the harsh stares he quickly returns when you're not looking. You're not scary at all! How come he's the only one to see that?

-> He'll take you outfit shopping but it's more for him! He rocks with the cardigans you wear so hard. He starts looking around for different styles that he might like. Daisuke loves the way you're dressed and wants to seem as cool as you did when you first met. He leans to more colourful outfits, saving different fit inspirations that he scrolls past on Instagram. He's inspired by those accounts that post couple fits, wanting to do the same with your style.

"This is cute but it looks waaayyy better on you!"

-> He's swapping accessories with you! Daisuke steals some of your hairclips and you snatch his jewellery to wear with your fits. His heart wells up with pride when he sees you wearing something of his. He must've done a good job picking it out. Daisuke kicks his feet and giggles whenever you compliment him on his outfits. You? Of all people!? Like his outfit!?! He's hit the jackpot!

ANYA:

-> Initially, Anya is intimidated. However, it easily melts away at how kind you are! Instead, she's quickly charmed by your confidence to wear gyaru fashion when it's not very conventional.

-> Supports it fully! She does extensive research into the subculture. Dedicates her time to learning about the different types of Gyaru styles and its history - the whole nine yards!

-> She likely won't dress up in that style, but you have inspired her to focus more on fashion. Those socks and sandals may be good for work, but not the best for streetwear style. She doesn't wear extremely alternative outfits but is drawn to simpler and neutral outfits that still scream fashionable.

-> Anya holds onto one of your hairpins when she works! It's a sweet reminder of you and her patients compliment her for it. It's a win-win!

-> While you're preparing for a date with her, she'll walk into the bathroom, observing how you do your make-up and taking note of your routine. Eventually, she builds up the courage to ask if she could do it for you, promising with a grin that it'll look great.

-> You're sitting in the bedroom, nimble hands cupping your face as Anya draws your eyeliner on, tongue sticking out in concentration as she works on keeping it even on both sides. All you can focus on is the proximity between you both, the gentle warmth radiating from her hands. She gently tilts your face as she applies your blush before leaning down and pressing a swift kiss to your glossed lips.

"There. You look gorgeous, starlight. Ready to head off?"

JIMMY:

-> Hates it at first. It's obnoxious, loud, and only makes you look intimidating. Pretty girls like you should be dolled up but only in the way he deems appropriate.

-> He's... Weirdly envious. Not at the clothes you wear (although being able to afford a style like that seems like an unneeded expense) but more so at what it means. You don't care for others' opinions, wearing what you like because it makes you happy. No matter how much he wants to deny it, Jimmy thrives off the opinions of others. He looks like an everyman. The most average man you could conceive of. Not like anyone important. How could you stand out next to him? You look like someone worth remembering and it pisses him off.

-> If you're in a relationship, I could see him warming up to it. He'd still prefer it if you didn't wear it but if it makes you happy... Plus, having a cute girl like you on his arm is certainly an ego booster. He buys you a skirt or two, smirking when you notice its shortness compared to your usual ones.

"What? Don't like it? I thought this sorta thing was up your alleyway? You'd look sexy in it anyway, doll."

SWANSEA:

"This isn't one of those fads, is it?"

-> Swansea can only sigh. This isn't his first rodeo with self-expression. His kids have done it all, including driving him up the wall as they explore their identity through their fashion. It doesn't make him any less confused, unfortunately.

-> It's more... out there than he was expecting. It's not one he's seen before. Rather than researching in his own time, he'd much prefer to get a first-hand account of it all. He asks questions in that fatherly way. It seems like he's judging but he is genuinely curious.

-> He doesn't think he could ever wrap his head around it but that doesn't mean he won't support you. Instead of buying you clothes, he'll pay for your nail appointments, muttering how "you kids are always runnin' me dry."

-> For all his grumbles, seeing you happy is his #1 priority, and the grin on your face when you show him your outfit is enough to make it all worth it.

[lovelyhan]

— melting point ⟢

rumor has it that icy department head of pledis insurance has something going on with her loyal secretary, wonwoo. well, she does—it's just not the kind of behind-closed-doors business one would expect for them to partake in.

★ FEATURING; secretary!wonwoo x afab!oc

★ WORD COUNT; 12.3k words

★ TAGS; coworkers to lovers, revenge fic, angst, smut

★ WARNINGS; blackmailing, manipulation, mentions of past bullying, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; hi... it's been forever, hasn't it? i missed tumblr a lot, and have decided to grace the tags with this fic after months of radio silence heheh ! this was a commissioned piece on twt which i tweaked to fit my tumblr audience better! cheers to 5k followers even in my absence t__t you guys are the best!

★ PS; i'm sorry i can't be bothered to dig up my taglist and tag those who filled it up T T

There’s a saying in PLEDIS Insurance that goes: enjoy your coffee early because once the Ice Queen is in, it’ll turn just as cold as she is. 

Of course, the words were merely thrown around in jest. Something that bored employees come up with in the break room whenever they’re careless enough to think their little jokes won’t reach said ice queen’s ears. But still—they’re just jokes. As long as they worked enough to satisfy their salaries’ worth, Emma the Ice Queen would always turn a blind eye. She might be cold, but she isn’t completely heartless.

Most of the time.

“Good morning, ma’am,” her secretary, Wonwoo, greeted with a curt nod as she entered her office. 

Emma scoffed before setting her things down on her work desk, the frown on her face only worsening when she sees the elegantly wrapped gift box in front of her. “What's this?” 

Wonwoo swallowed thickly, like he was nervous. Wonwoo never gets nervous.

“We have an...unforeseen circumstance,” he prefaced before tapping away on the iPad in his arms. “Sir Leo from the Choi group wants to pursue you.”

“Unforeseen?” Emma repeated. “Wonwoo, this is completely foreseen. Isn't it our from the start is to make them fall in love, only for us to expose their dirty secrets in the end?”

He looked as if he wanted to agree. But after turning the screen of his iPad so Emma could see the article written on some shoddy newsletter, her brows furrowed together in confusion.

A Race for the Inheritance: How the Choi Group’s Next Generation of Ambitious Youngbloods Will Do Everything to Get Their Fill of Old Money. 

The title itself didn’t give Emma much context of what exactly was making Wonwoo—her ever-composed secretary—lose his composure. It’s natural to see the sons and daughters of a powerful business conglomerate fight each other for their rights to the family inheritance. But after reading through what the rest of the article had to offer, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly started to fit.

“They're seeing who gets to get married first?” Emma laughed incredulously before handing the iPad back to Wonwoo. “Does Leo really think he can get me to become his lover—even more so his wife—after everything he did to me in high school?”

Wonwoo breathed in deeply. “Miss Emma, we both know the answer to that. If it were all up to you, you could easily put him to shame and reject him. But his interests somewhat align with the director’s interests as well…”

Ah. Her father’s interests.

“No,” she answered sharply. “Even if he kicks me out of my position, I’m not going to be wed to that prick.”

“Are you sure about that?” Wonwoo sighed before adjusting his glasses. “Miss Emma, we both know you love your work more than anything. And you're chronically attached to this company even if you despise the executives. Sir Leo has good leverage over you, sad to say.”

There was something irritating about hearing Wonwoo call his ex-best friend Sir, as if he was underneath some scumbag of a human being like Leo. But then again, years have passed since then. Lots of things have changed. 

But Emma’s grudges hold steadfast, still.

“Hmph, whatever.” She dismissed the matter with a nonchalant wave before unwrapping the gift box in front of her. “Was this from Leo, too? Is he on a deadline or something?”

“Hmm, first one that gets married before December gets the rights to the inheritance,” Wonwoo informed her as he picked the clutter of ribbons off Emma’s desk and pocketed them in his coat for later disposal. “Do you want me to look up the progress of his siblings and cousins? We can sabotage him while it's still early.”

Emma didn’t respond right away—preoccupied with unwrapping Leo's so-called gift. But when she sees a red velvet box with an engagement ring and a folded letter inside, she begrudgingly realized that Leo wouldn’t be as easy a target as her other high school bullies.

No, this man really was rotten to the core.

By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you already heard the news. You know what to do, right, Emma?

Or should I say, wifey? ;)

“Send this back to him. Now.”

Wonwoo nodded obediently as Emma pushed Leo's cursed gift box away from her. “Alright. Anything else I can do for you? Like…have someone plant a snake in his bedroom or something?”

Despite the sour mood that Leo undoubtedly put her in this morning, Wonwoo's little idea of a joke made the corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile. The offer was tempting, but in the end, she shook her head and booted up the PC on her desk instead.

“As much as I want his death by a snake bite to headline the news, Leo doesn’t deserve to get out of this the easy way.” Emma muttered as she started browsing through the hard-drive she’d hooked up onto the computer. “And lucky for us, I finally got the evidence to send his suspiciously prosperous career down into a spiral.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow before taking a peek behind her. “What's that? Money laundering records? Tax fraud?” 

No. It was really something as simple as—

“Footage of a mass orgy he participated in,” Emma casually told her secretary as she clicked on the only video on the hard drive. “Might not look like a big deal compared to what we had to go through with Ezra, but Leo belongs to a family of devout Catholics. Good thing your contact from Leo's favorite bar had some use. All I did was ask around and he quickly spilled all the details with the right amount of money.”

Wonwoo chuckled as he flashed her an impressed look. “As far as I know, I’m the one who’s supposed to do the dirty work for you. Why are you directly involving yourself in matters you can leave to me?” 

The lewd video continued to play on her screen—muted, of course—and one could easily make out Leo Choi's face amongst the crowd of sex-depraved freaks. Once they sent this over anonymously to each and every person who might think that scumbag deserved to inherit his family’s wealth, it would be all over for him.

“‘Cause we’re a team, Wonwoo,” she chuckled. “You’ve done your fair share of work when we took down Gavin and Ezra. But admittedly…I've got more bones to pick with Leo. I think it’s only fair for me to orchestrate his downfall with my own two hands.”

“Right…” Wonwoo agreed with a hint of fondness in his tone that completely went over Emma’s head—far too triumphant with her newfound ammunition. 

“We’re a team.”

But it wasn’t always that way.

Wonwoo was actually more deeply involved in Emma’s mission to exact revenge on the people who’ve wronged her years ago than one would otherwise expect. He’d been best friends with Leo since they were kids, and when they eventually met Gavin and Ezra in their high school basketball team, the four of them were quite inseparable. 

But despite being his best friend, Wonwoo knew that Leo could be quite…off-putting with his behavior sometimes.

“Hey, look at that,” Sixteen year-old Leo scoffed before gesturing towards the loud girl earning amused stares in the cafeteria. “She's so fucking loud. Is she the new transfer student?”

Gavin snickered as he took a bite out of his lunch. “How'd she even get in here? Our tuition isn't a joke, and she doesn't really look like she can afford it. The kid of a maid, maybe?”

“Or she could be one of those financial scholarship kids,” Ezra pitched in with a shrug. “Though she doesn't look very bright if we're being honest.”

Wonwoo didn’t offer anything to the conversation, merely eating his food quietly as his friends talked smack about the new transfer student in their class. Emma Rodriguez was like a piece of meat thrown into a pit of vipers. Some might like her—like the classmates who were howling with laughter because of her antics—but others looked at her with disdain. 

She didn’t belong to any wealthy well-known families like every other kid in their grade. The girl simply popped out of nowhere like an eyesore, according to Leo. Wonwoo didn’t really mind her presence though. She made the boring monotone of his school days a bit more bearable with her energy.

But what Wonwoo thought was just his friends’ surface-level dislike for a girl who behaved differently from the others in their grade turned out to be something else.

Something worse.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what bullying was, and was well-aware that what his friends constantly did to Emma wasn’t something that normal high schoolers did. Leo was the most vicious about it, and Wonwoo never really got to know his reasons for doing all those horrible things. 

But whenever they spotted Emma horsing around in the hallways, Leo would always be the first one to come up to her—calling her names like fraud, gold digger, and the like. Gavin and Ezra followed each and every time, and they were usually the ones who pushed her around for no real reason.

And Wonwoo? Wonwoo was the one who always stood a few feet away every time his friends decided they were in the mood to pick on the transfer student. The one who always stayed quiet and pretended nothing unsightly was happening in front of him.

The one whose gaze Emma always tried to silently catch, hoping he’d be the one to stop his friends from harassing her. 

But he never did.

That cycle of three boys bullying a once bright and bubbly transfer student became commonplace. Before their third year in high school came to a close, Emma suddenly vanished off the radar. She didn’t attend their classes, nor was she there in the completion ceremonies at the end of every school year. 

Most of the kids around Wonwoo didn’t really give two shits about her sudden disappearance. Word around the street was that she transferred out because of the heavy harassment she was getting, not just from his friends, but also the rest of the students from their grade. They didn’t think Emma was funny because of her silly antics and loud jokes anymore.

Everyone started to collectively think of her as a nuisance, and the fact that she had no familial connections to protect herself with only fed into the senseless yet oh-so popular trend of crushing Emma Rodriguez’s hopes and dreams into the ground.

It was almost like Wonwoo was the only person in their entire grade who felt the tiniest bit of pity for her. But he told himself long ago that someone like him had no right to feel sorry for someone he never bothered trying to help. 

The years passed by in a flash. After Emma’s disappearance, Wonwoo quit the basketball team and  completely cut off his friends and everyone else who actively hurt her. He didn’t really know why either—all he knew was that he couldn’t stomach the idea of keeping those connections despite what they drove Emma to do. 

Of course, he knew he wasn’t completely innocent either. But it wasn’t too late to be a decent person, right?

Wonwoo simply went through the motions of graduating high school, then college, before pursuing a career in the vicious world of the corporate hierarchy. But instead of gunning for executive positions like his fellow fresh grads dared to dream, he worked his way up without using his family’s prestige to his own advantage. 

In fact, Wonwoo realized he liked working closely with his bosses. That’s why he became the designated secretary to all the finance department heads who walked through the doors of PLEDIS Insurance. He was content with being a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy who’s at the beck and call of someone else—a tool who worked on the sidelines. He never really wanted to be the face of any company anyway.

But then, in his fifth year on the job, he was told that there were a couple of changes in PLEDIS’ executive board. The boss he’d been working under was set to retire and he’d be replaced with a new one—someone younger and full of promise, as the head of human resources dramatically explained to him. 

It wasn’t really a deal breaker or anything. As long as Wonwoo got paid, he’d gladly work for even the most terrible of people in this industry.

But on the day his new boss was set to start, he was haunted by a ghost from the past instead.

Wonwoo hasn’t spared a single thought for Emma Rodriguez in God knows how long. Yet the moment she stepped into the office, he recognized her almost immediately. There was no trace of that girl people called gold digger and other derogatory names because of her appearance. This was a woman with her head held high—someone who oozed confidence in every stride with a gaze sharper than her winged eyeliner. 

Yet Wonwoo couldn’t be mistaken. This really was Emma Rodriguez.

He wondered if she remembered him, too. The boy who kept quiet about those who bullied her in those few crucial years of her life. Wonwoo even considered apologizing for not doing anything to help her when he should have. 

“Ah, Wonwoo Jeon?” Emma repeated his name with a dismissive air, almost like she was wholly uninterested in him. “The one who just watched when Gavin Kim pushed me in the muddy courtyard at school? The one who pretended not to see when Leo Choi splashed paint all over my uniform? Of course I remember you.”

God. Was this her exacting retribution?

For the next few days since she came into the office, Wonwoo helped Emma get used to the feel of things in the Finance Department. At least, that was his intention. 

From the looks of it, Emma already knew the ins-and-outs of managing a company’s cash inflow and outflow, as well as the other gritty, more technical details that came with accounting for each and every cent. She managed to prepare and present several sets of data that his previous boss had trouble organizing to the current board of directors within two days’ time. 

Her work ethic was admirable—she got the job done quickly and efficiently, and that made her earn the respect of her subordinates faster than Wonwoo had seen them warm up to their previous bosses. It would have been the perfect relationship between the new department head and her employees, if it weren’t for Emma’s stone cold behavior towards other people. 

Not only did she look different from the Emma he knew in high school, but she acted differently too. Wonwoo couldn’t picture this Emma purposely making a fool out of herself just to make the people around her laugh. This Emma wanted the entire team to get the work handed to them done as soon as possible, and if they did, the most they’d receive in return is a mere nod in approval and nothing else.

It was for that reason that employees would start calling her the Ice Queen. Though she wasn’t some tyrant that gave people an unreasonable workload—she was actually very lenient and fair about the division of tasks—her people skills needed a little work. 

That or Emma was purposely shutting everyone out with her chilly attitude. 

Wonwoo had a few clues as to why she’d want to do that, but he’s a secretary, not a therapist. The only thing he could do about it was to keep his silence.

But then came a day when Emma asked him to come into her office to do something he completely expected from her but didn’t at the same time.

“Are you still in touch with Leo, Gavin, and Ezra?” she asked him, not even bothering to look up from the report she’s reading off her PC.

The question caught Wonwoo off-guard and it was obvious Emma caught on to his reaction if the tiny smirk that curved across her lips was anything to go by. Still, he took it in stride—breathing in through his nose as he thought about his answer.

He hasn’t been in touch with any of them since his high school graduation. All their attempts at reaching out to Wonwoo to invite him for a quick game of ball or a round of drinks somewhere in the city were all ignored. Not even turned down—ignored. 

Leo was the most persistent about it. After all, they were best friends. But after several years of Wonwoo not even bothering to give their invites a single glance, Leo stopped reaching out altogether. Wonwoo's life became a lot more peaceful since he cut ties with them, and he never really regretted the decision to do so. 

But perhaps the universe really was telling him to pay the price for his past inaction now that Emma was bringing up the past on a regular Wednesday afternoon. 

“No, ma’am,” he told her honestly. “Do you want me to reach out to them? Their contact details are pretty easy to get our hands on.”

Emma sighed quietly before meeting his gaze, an unreadable look hovering across her face. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d like that. But aren't you going to ask why I want to contact them again?”

He wanted to, but Wonwoo learned that in his line of work, the last thing he should do was ask questions. It made him wonder if Emma was purposely setting him up on some sort of conversational bear trap, but seeing as he didn’t really have anything to lose by giving, he chose to relent. 

“...Why?”

The silence of her office rang in his ears as Emma typed away on her keyboard. It was a mechanical one with tactile switches that matched the color of her desktop wallpaper. He didn’t take her to be someone who cared enough about aesthetics to that degree, but then again, Wonwoo never really got a chance to get to know her back then. 

He was too much of a coward to do so.

Once she was done, Emma got up from her ergonomic chair (which also matched her desktop setup), leveling her gaze with Wonwoo's even if the latter was easily a head taller than she was. Something about the glint in her eyes made him swallow the lump in his throat. Not to mention that sweet yet chilly smile that graced her bright red lips.

“It’s really simple, Wonwoo,” she told him with a laugh. 

“I want revenge.” 

And that’s how their little team was formed.

It was a two-person job. Emma entrusted Wonwoo with digging up the information she needed about the three men she wanted to bring down, all while she was in charge of putting their plans into motion by heading over to the front lines. 

Gavin was an easy target. Unlike the other two, he’s the only one who pursued professional basketball and for a while, he amassed quite the number of fans and admirers because of his outstanding plays. What’s more was that he managed to wife up a beauty queen who’s already conquered the international stage a few years back. Now with their first baby on the way, one would think that Gavin Kim has a picture perfect life.

But further down the road, talk about how he’s actually a womanizing wife beater started to seep out of the cracks and crevices of the athletic industry. The allegations were serious, but no one really bothered batting an eye. It’s normal. Lots of athletes are like that. We can't do anything about it.

It was easy to get a hold of which gym Gavin frequents to maintain his physique. He preferred working out in public facilities instead of the one provided for his team because it gave him all the freedom to ogle and flirt with other women who just happened to be hitting the gym on days he was on the prowl. 

Wonwoo even added a little footnote in the file he prepared that said likes to engage in post-workout coitus in the shower rooms. Emma rolled her eyes in disgust when she read it, but made sure to keep it in mind.

The day finally came when she’d collect enough evidence to ruin Gavin’s career. Emma hasn’t dropped by the gym in a while—work having sapped her energy too much to let her psych herself back into working out. But she realized she didn’t have to act out too much because the moment she started operating the treadmill right next to Gavin’s, he was already checking her out.

He didn’t seem to recognize who she was, unlike Wonwoo. But then again Gavin was easily the stupidest out of her trio of high school bullies. This man was all brawn and no brains, which was why it was all too easy for Emma to seduce him in the showers of this shoddy gym not thirty minutes since she’d arrived.

It wasn’t the most pleasant experience. The last thing Emma wanted was to have this idiotic man inside of her so she offered to go on her knees and blow him instead—something that Gavin was all too happy to relent to. 

He didn’t even boast a cock of considerable size. It probably wasn’t any longer than her middle finger, and for a split second, she wondered why his beauty queen wife stayed with him despite having a cock that didn’t back up his cocky attitude. It was probably the money.

Emma didn’t waste much time though. Wonwoo visited this gym only a few hours prior to plant a bug somewhere inside the specific shower stall they were currently occupying. She just had to hope she and Gavin were positioned well enough so the camera would get a full view of what they were doing. 

It was the longest twenty minutes of Emma’s life, and she had to go home right away to disinfect her mouth about ten times, but hey. All in the name of vengeance, right?

At around eight in the evening on that same Saturday, her phone lit up with an email notification from Wonwoo. 

From: Wonwoo Jeon  Subject: CLASSIFIED Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well. I retrieved our bug from the gym earlier today and extracted the videos taken before properly disposing of it. Attached to this email is the MP4 file of our evidence against Mr. Gavin Kim. Around the time this message arrives to you, I have simultaneously sent said evidence to Mr. Kim’s managers, sponsors, teammates, other colleagues, and of course, his wife.  The only difference between their emails and yours is that this is a self-destructing message. Once you’ve closed this window, it will be deleted from your inbox without a trace. So if you are interested in watching the video below, best save it to your device of choice for better perusal. If you have any further questions and concerns, I am merely a text message away.  Regards,  Wonwoo Jeon Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department PLEDIS Insurance 

Like hell she was going to watch it.

The moment Emma finished reading through Wonwoo's overly formal email, she quickly exited the window and, true to his word, the message itself had disappeared. Despite being a fairly new player to the game, she had to commend all the precautions Wonwoo was setting to make sure her plans were a success. 

It made her wonder if his previous bosses have also asked him to do shady things under the company’s nose in the past. Whether or not that's true, she was reaping the benefits of his expertise, so she had no room for complaints. 

As long as she had Wonwoo, she’d get to punish everyone who wronged her without fail.

Gavin’s downfall followed soon after. 

Tabloids were their best friend in that scenario. The thumbnail of the video that Wonwoo spread around like some virus that wouldn’t stop replicating headlined every single paper, talking about how one of the most promising basketball stars of their generation had fallen prey to his own vices.

It was a good thing that not only was Wonwoo careful enough to not leave digital footprints as he sent out those emails, but he also edited the video to keep Emma’s identity a secret. As Gavin’s world started to crumble before his eyes—him being kicked off the starting roster of the team, his wife leaving him behind, and the public execution of his reputation—Emma simply shared a bottle of aged wine from Tuscany with the man who helped her pull off a wonderful performance.

“You’re not too bad,” she mused as she took a small sip, crossing her legs from where she’s seated unceremoniously on the edge of her desk. “You're surprisingly more on-board with this plan than I thought. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were never friends with Gavin in the first place.” 

Wonwoo retained his stoic demeanor, not having touched the glass Emma offered him simply because it was against company regulations to intoxicate himself on the job. “If my boss tells me to ruin someone's life, I'm mandated to do it. I’m just doing what’s written on my job description, ma’am.”

Emma’s lips stretched into a grin as she threw her head back with a laugh. She leaned in closer to Wonwoo, who seemed wholly unfazed by the fact that the gesture granted him an ample view of her cleavage through her blouse. 

“Does your job description cover watching and editing your boss' sex scandal so you can mass send it to hundreds of people?” She giggled before leaning back to take another sip of her drink. “You’re in the green for now, Wonwoo. Keep it up and I might just have a pay raise arranged for you with HR if our next escapade is a success.”

He hummed in understanding. “Who’s next?”

In usual Emma fashion, she didn’t give him a straight answer right away. Instead, she hopped back to the carpeted floor of her office—not even wobbling in those thin heels she’s wearing—before rounding her desk to access her computer. 

“Have you been watching TV lately? Primetime soap operas?” she asked him as she clicked away on her screen. 

Wonwoo shook his head. “They don’t really interest me, ma’am.”

“I figured they wouldn’t. But this might.”

Emma gestured for him to peer at her monitor and Wonwoo wordlessly followed suit, getting up from his seat and standing behind her. Flashed on the screen was an article from a more reputable news outlet that featured two co-stars who played the main couple in a popular network’s newest drama. 

“Ezra Lee and Alaina Park…” Wonwoo muttered under his breath before his eyes flickered to Emma. “You have any leads I can work with?”

His boss chuckled before looking up at him with an expectant smile. “Someone's determined. I never thought I’d get to see someone so eager to do the dirty work for me.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Miss Emma, I'm not sure if you're aware but desk work gets boring sometimes. You’re right. This is a lot more interesting.”

“Alright, then,” Emma chuckled before retrieving both of their wine glasses and handing Wonwoo's back to him. “Unlike Gavin, I don't have a lot of surface-level leads with Ezra. He’s a celebrity—their reputation needs to be squeaky clean, so it makes sense why I can’t dig up anything about him through regular means. But this should be a piece of cake for you, right?”

Wonwoo stared at the bright red liquor inside the expensive glass, gaze darting to the wicked smile playing on Emma’s lips. If he looked a little closer, he would be able to tell that the shade of her lipstick matches the color of the liquor in her hands. 

He took it from her grasp with a sigh, clinking the edges of their glasses together before downing the entire thing in one fell swoop. The wine was aged well, and had somewhat of a sweet aftertaste, but despite the appealing flavor, Wonwoo reminded himself to never drink on the job ever again. 

“I’ll get back to you once I have the information you need.”

Wonwoo swiftly left Emma’s office after that little victory party. Even with his new sideline of being his boss’s lead henchman, he still had a lot of work to do for PLEDIS Insurance. And that included telling the other employees to quit horsing around in the break room when their designated lunch break ended hours ago.

“Sir Wonwoo,” one of said employees, Soonyoung, snickered before throwing an arm over Wonwoo's shoulders. “You've been hanging out in Miss Emma's office pretty frequently. Is there something going on? You became close real quickly.”

“Yeah” said one Seokmin, who’s still snacking on a wafer despite Wonwoo's scolding. “Boss, we know you're not the fuck-your-way-up kind of guy, but who knows, right? But with your position right now, do you really need it?”

Seungkwan, the last member of their unruly trio, slapped Seokmin’s arm with a scowl. “Hey! Do you really have to say it to his face? Oh, boss, if you make a report about these two, please know I have nothing to do with whatever they're saying.”

Soonyoung snickered. “Are you sure about that? Weren't you the one who first noticed that Sir Wonwoo was stepping inside Miss Emma's office more frequently—”

“Hey! Boss told us to scram, didn't he?! Let's go.”

Seungkwan quickly ushered his two friends out of the break room, scolding them in a hushed tone before they all went back to their respective cubicles. Wonwoo shook his head with a sigh, muttering something about inevitable rumors as he made himself a cup of coffee.

Was that how they perceived Wonwoo’s sudden closeness with the department head? That he was fucking Emma in the solitude of her office? Well, the idea of a boss having illicit relations with their secretary wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s heard about how the head of the Advertising Department gets frisky with his secretary through the corporate grapevine. But just because it was a popular trope among the employees’ strange fantasies, it didn’t mean it applied to himself and Emma as well.

They were strictly professional: he did the dirty work and she paid him in full. That was all there was to it.

(But what people don’t know was that editing Gavin’s scandal wasn’t exactly the walk in the park Emma thought it was.

Despite being one of the most indifferent people in the company, Wonwoo was still a man. Seeing his boss, whose body would be coveted by anyone who dared to want her, in such a compromising position excited an…unexpected physiological reaction out of him.

His resolve was as sturdy as steel, however. Instead of taking care of the obvious problem in his pants as he edited the scandalous video, Wonwoo dealt with it by taking a long, cold shower until all the blood that rushed down south started circulating properly again.

He told himself not to think about it come morning.)

“A drug den?”

Even Emma was baffled by the news that Wonwoo brought her the following week—a scowl of disbelief permanently etched on her face as she scanned the file her secretary prepared for her. Wonwoo merely stood at her side, waiting for her to finish going through the data he’s gathered. 

And he sure hoped she understood every single word printed on it. He practically risked his life trying to investigate Ezra’s secret business. No wonder it was so hard to dig up any dirt on him—dead men tell no tales after all.

“This is…” Emma swallowed thickly before continuing, “way above my expectations. If he was just getting faded on his own with a private dealer, I'd understand. Lots of celebrities do recreational drugs. But for him to head an entire operation? Where'd he find the time on top of his taping schedules?” 

Wonwoo sighed. “I would’ve been able to investigate further if his men weren't so meticulous. They're fiercely loyal to Ezra. Couldn’t bribe him like we did with Gavin’s gym coach.” 

“And you made sure to keep your identity under lockdown?”

“Positive.”

Emma drummed her fingers across the smooth surface of her work desk—brows furrowed as she stared into nothingness. Though they’ve only been working together for roughly six months at most, Wonwoo knew her well enough to realize she hit a wall.

It made him wonder if this was where she would draw the line. Their success with Gavin gave them both an unexpected high, sure, but Wonwoo recognized that this game they were playing was a dangerous one. The people they were trying to take down had more money and connections than the two of them could ever hope to get their hands on. 

But one thing that he failed to recognize right away about Emma was that she’s always been grossly ambitious. 

“The file you gave me also mentioned na he was hoping to insure his new house in Incheon,” she pointed out. “Care to tell me why you decided to include that?”

“I know you told me not to involve the company in this as much as we can, but I couldn’t think of any other way to penetrate into his circle.” Wonwoo adjusted his necktie, suddenly feeling like he’s being watched by the hawk that was his boss. “I’ve been told that he’s wary of people. Side effects of the cocaine, probably. Though the info broker sounded like he was joking, it’s best to be wary of him. If he can hide behind the protection of his management and his family, we need to play our cards right and protect ourselves, too.”

Emma took a moment to process what her secretary just told her, nodding slowly before closing the folder containing Ezra’s file and locking it inside a hidden drawer beneath her desk. 

“Oh, Wonwoo. If only all men were as intelligent as you are,” she sighed, getting up from her seat before pinching his face. “Good work. Let's go out for drinks later. My treat.”

Wonwoo's face twisted with confusion. “For what? Doing my job?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “For going above and beyond every single time. You think you're only good at doing dirty work? At being my errand boy? You never fall behind your quotas here in the office either, you know. I think that in itself is a cause for celebration.”

Now that she’s reasoned it out, Wonwoo was even more weirded out by this strange turn of events. In the six months that Emma Rodriguez has spent as the head of PLEDIS Insurance’s Finance head, she never failed to uphold that arctic cold façade. She treated both executives and regular employees with the same degree of cut-throat harshness. 

And that’s when Wonwoo realized that she didn’t really treat him the way she treated them.

Huh. Did the Ice Queen have a melting point after all?

Despite his extensive protests, however, Wonwoo let Emma rope him into grabbing dinner and drinks at a food hub several districts away from their office. The fewer people who could recognize them outside, the better. Of course, he pleaded and reminded her several times that she was his boss and she really didn’t have to—

“Hey! Keep drinking!” Emma slurred with a huff, face red from the alcohol as she pushed another pint of beer into Wonwoo's face. “Why aren't you drunk yet, huh, Wonwoo Jeon? Are you God? Maybe that's why you're so good at obtaining information for me. Ah! No! Maybe you're the devil! Right, what we're doing isn't exactly good nor is it legal…”

Wonwoo exhaled long and hard as his boss continued blabbering nonsense across from him at their shared table. One glance at the smartwatch on his wrist told him that it was near midnight and that he should probably bring Emma home before she could make a scene. 

But…maybe they could stay for a few minutes more.

“Miss Emma? Are you sleepy?”

“Hm? Why would I be sleepy? We're drinking, aren't we?” 

“You're half-asleep on the table, so.”

At the prospect of being called out, Emma quickly shot into an upright position—looking around to see if anyone caught her drooling. When she realized she was in the clear, she narrowed her eyes at Wonwoo.

“Not a word about this in the office,” she warned, using one of the finished barbecue sticks on their empty plates to threaten him. “But...yeah. Alcohol makes me sleepy. Drive me home.”

Not even a please. This woman was really shameless even when drunk.

Not a peep of complaint was heard from Wonwoo when he drove Emma all the way to her condo unit in uptown Poblacion. Though he had to practically carry her inside and even help her out of her clothes and into her pajamas (at her request, not his own initiative), he simply told himself this was all part of his job. 

When his boss was safely tucked in bed, he was ready to bid her farewell and head back to his own place to catch up on some sleep. But for someone who was intoxicated beyond belief, Emma was still quite aware of her surroundings. The moment Wonwoo took a step away from her bed, her hand shot out to grab ahold of his wrist, making Wonwoo look back at her with an eyebrow raised.

“Wonwoo,” she murmured, face still smothered in her pillows despite her tight grip. “Can you stay?” 

“There's nowhere for me to sleep,” he chuckled. “I should go.”

“Then sleep next to me.”

The furrow on his brow merely deepened. He’d ask her to repeat what she said, but Wonwoo could recognize that Emma wasn’t really in the headspace to be reasonable right now. So instead of refuting her wish, Wonwoo carefully pried her fingers off his wrist so he could take off his work coat and fold it neatly on top of her vanity table.

This is all part of the job, he told himself.

Wonwoo laid on his boss’ duvet perfectly still. He didn’t want to make the mistake of touching her when he didn’t have explicit permission to do so. He was merely told to sleep next to her after all—nothing else.

But about fifteen minutes after he lied next to her, Emma shifted on her side of the bed—turning to him with a sleepy look in her eyes.

“You know,” she whispered, so softly, he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t as observant as he was. “I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.”

Emma probably won’t remember what she mumbled in her drunken stupor in the morning. But the sadness and honesty that underlined her words sent him back about ten years into the past. To a time when he was a much greater evil than those who directly wronged her.

An apology sizzled across the tip of his tongue—something that’s a decade overdue. But before Wonwoo could hope to let her hear his piece, Emma’s breathing had become even and shallow. 

She was already fast asleep.

He sighed, staring up at the dainty ceiling of her bedroom as he chuckled helplessly to himself.

“That’s why I’m making up for it now.”

If Gavin’s case was a walk in the park, Ezra’s was an Olympic-level marathon.

Wonwoo didn’t want to dwell on the details anymore. To cut it short: he was going to cross out ‘exposing a notorious drug lord’ off his bucket list without thinking of doing it again ever. While he managed to get out unscathed during his investigation, it just so happened that their final altercation with Ezra ended up putting Wonwoo in the hospital. 

But so what if he fractured a couple of ribs trying to save Emma from being killed by that drug-addicted lunatic? As long as their goal to bring Emma’s enemies down was achieved, he’d gladly sustain any life-threatening injuries.

Which was, admittedly…strange. 

Long before Emma came into the picture as his boss, Wonwoo never would’ve pictured himself risking his neck for the benefit of someone else. Though he had an entire arsenal of skills and knowledge at his disposal, it would take more than just his generous salary to get him to put them to good use.

But with Emma, he found himself utilizing whatever means to help her exact her revenge—on people he once called his friends, much less.

He must be going insane. 

“Wonwoo…?”

Funnily enough, he ended up recalling everything that happened over the past two weeks first before recognizing that he was just regaining consciousness in the intensive care unit. Wonwoo's eyes hurt because of how bright the fluorescent lights were overhead, but for some reason, he didn’t flinch away from her relieved smile when it was a million watts brighter than the hospital’s indoor lighting.

“Good…day, ma’am,” he croaked out awkwardly, belatedly realizing that he didn’t know what time it was. “What day is it? Did someone fix your schedule for today? Did someone go over your meal plans in my stead? Were you—”

His endless stream of questions was interrupted by hacking fit—making Emma scramble for a glass of water on the table by his hospital bed, a concerned look lining her gaze.

“Don't talk too much,” she scolded him as he finished his drink. “You’ve been out for two days, idiot.”

Two days? 

Needless to say, he couldn’t do a thing about it once his boss started fussing over him. She called over doctors she personally knew and handpicked only the most competent of nurses to look after Wonwoo. How Emma could be the judge of that, Wonwoo wasn’t very sure, but he gladly let her take care of him for a change. 

After all, they successfully concluded another chapter in Emma’s little revenge story.

“When are we going to start with Leo?”

Wonwoo brought the matter up about three days after he woke up, right in the middle of eating the stale hospital food served to him for dinner. Emma, who was snacking on some takeout fast food, hummed before tossing a french fry into her mouth.

“You're not even healed yet, and you're thinking about work?” she sighed before pointing a fry in his direction. “I’m still paying you your regular wage even if you're stuck here. You don’t have to worry about making ends meet so much, Wonwoo. You just need to rest—”

“But I don’t want to rest, I want to be useful to you,” he interrupted her gruffly, which was strange of him because he never interrupted his employers. 

For a moment, Wonwoo thought he’d be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing even if he was still recovering. Emma never let other people talk back to her without consequences. But instead, his boss threw her head back with a laugh that bordered on a snort. It’s a look that Wonwoo had seen on her time and time again—a look that he noticed Emma only showed to him. 

Back then, he didn’t really think of her smile all that much. But now…

“You’re being useful enough just by being alive, Jeon,” she reassured him, that grin of hers unwavering. “Enough questions about Leo. I'm not even thinking about him yet because compared to the previous two? He’s a lot easier to track down.”

Wonwoo shot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Same approach lang with Ezra.” She flashed him a toothy smile. “We’re going to get him to insure some of his properties under PLEDIS. But instead of us going to him, he'll be going to us instead.”

“I…? Sorry, ma’am. I don’t follow.”

Emma stifled a soft laugh behind her palm, unwrapping the burger included in her takeout meal before taking a bite of considerable size. “The Choi Corporation is expanding a chain of shopping malls somewhere in Jeju. Leo Choi personally contacted our CEO and there we have it: another big shot client.”

Another person to drag down to hell.

“Is that good enough for you?” 

Wonwoo was still processing the news as they both finished up their respective meals. He should probably be glad that Emma didn’t decide to put their secret operation on hold just because he was out of commission. But something about how smoothly they’re progressing into the next phase of Emma’s big revenge plan that made him wary of treading any further. 

He felt like he was being paranoid—probably the aftermath of almost crossing to the other side because of what happened with the Ezra incident. Wonwoo couldn’t help but be wary of any and all threats to both his life and Emma’s, and it was for a good reason.

“Okay,” Wonwoo breathed, wincing a little when he felt the spot where his ribs broke ache at how fast he inhaled. “What do you want me to do for now? Investigate? Trace his whereabouts?”

Emma’s smile suddenly turned ice cold. “I want you to rest, Wonwoo. Do I have to keep repeating myself?”

“But—”

“No buts. Boss’ orders—I'm your boss, right?” 

Ah, there’s the Ice Queen they all knew and loved. 

Fine. Maybe he could use a break from all that quote-unquote field work he just did. But one thing about his entire hospitalization still remained unanswered.

“What did you tell HR? About…this?” Wonwoo gestured towards his battered but healing body. “You’ve got the charisma, but I’m pretty sure it’s difficult even for you to go into cahoots with the other employees of PLEDIS. Much more, our human resources head.”

Emma waved away his concerns with a shake of her head. “You're so persistent, aren't you? Don’t think about HR. Or Leo. Or the rest of our plans. Can’t you be a normal salaryman and be happy that you have a break from all the things I make you do?”

“I told you, Miss Emma. I just want to make myself useful.”

“And I told you that you're the least useful in your current state. So give. It. A. Rest,” she threatened, putting emphasis on every syllable. 

But behind her intimidating façade was someone who actually cared for him. The details were still a bit muddled in Wonwoo's head, but he remembered being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. Remembered how Emma never let go of his hand as they made the trip all the way. And how he heard her pray for him to make it out alive despite being a well-known agnostic.

Once their conversation had mellowed down, he laid back against the steady elevation of his bed, watching the scenic city lights glimmer outside the window of his hospital room—just behind the woman who made his life a lot more interesting.

He couldn’t wait to be useful to her again.

“I hate this. I fucking hate this so much.”

Wonwoo spared his employer a quick glance as she practically glared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. He’d been browsing through a sports car catalog tucked underneath the hotel’s coffee table, but watching Emma have a furious meltdown about her wedding was more worth his time. 

“You're the one who said that there'll more benefits if you accepted the marriage proposal,” her secretary reminded, crossing his legs as he leaned back on the couch he was sitting on. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Of course I was just…gaslighting myself about this entire fucked up situation!” Emma growled as she stomped over to him with a scowl. “Can’t fucking believe my dad agreed to marry me off just like that, too. After all his talk that I needed to love whoever I'm supposed to marry...”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Anyone can be blinded by money—especially if it's from the Chois.”

“Even you?”

It’s a question that sunk into the room with a rhetorical implication. Emma was quick to exchange the earrings her stylist chose for her with something more suited to her taste—a pair that didn’t sparkle all that much but was worth more than six months of Wonwoo's salary. In her reflection on the vanity mirror, he could clearly see the way her red lips parted in concentration as she clipped the earrings in place. 

“No,” Wonwoo responded even if he knew she wasn’t looking for an answer. “I’m more easily blinded by other things, ma’am.”

Emma glanced behind her with a puzzled look, not getting his drift. “Like what?” 

Wonwoo didn’t dare think twice. 

He got up from his once comfortable position on the couch, closing the distance that sat between him and Emma in long, calculated strides. She didn’t seem fazed by his sudden need to walk over, but the moment Wonwoo was behind her, she stiffened when he reached a hand in front of her face. Then, with a firm yet featherlight touch, her secretary wiped off the lipstick that stained past her lip line with his fingers—not once breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. 

“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you, now would it?” He smiled before pulling his hand back. “I need to keep you on your toes sometimes, too, Miss Emma.”

He half-expected her to scoff and brush off his attempt at being smart with her. Emma was a no-nonsense kind of person, and with the wedding happening soon, Wonwoo understood why she’d be more high-strung than usual. 

But instead of acting the way she always did with him, Emma took Wonwoo by surprise when she fisted his silken necktie in her manicured nails, tugging him down so that their eyes were leveled with each other. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to wrestle Wonwoo into complete submission, but this was his boss they were talking about.

There’s a glint in those sharp eyes of hers that had his heart beating off the charts. This wasn’t the gaze of someone entitled the Ice Queen of their office. No, there’s something warm in there—borderline sensual. And before Wonwoo could even hope to figure out what it was, Emma was already closing her eyes and sealing their lips together like some unspoken pact. 

It’s an inconsequential kiss. Wonwoo has made out with both men and women alike—all desperate gasps and lust-fueled passion—but somehow, none of those experiences could hold a candle to the way Emma Rodriguez pecked his lips for a fraction of a second before pulling away. 

“You're getting more and more insufferable,” she muttered, resting her forehead against his. “You were never this cheeky before. What happened?”

You, he wanted to tell her. You happened.

At that point, Wonwoo's brain was merely operating on carnal instinct alone. He lunged forward to capture her lips again, making her gasp in surprise as he snaked a strong arm around her waist. Thank fucking god Emma’s wedding dress had a simple design—no pretentious frills to obstruct his movements. 

Despite the fact that this woman—his boss—was getting married in less than two hours, Wonwoo couldn’t even give a damn. He swiped all the makeup boxes and accessories off the vanity table, propping Emma up on the horizontal surface as he kissed her until she saw stars. 

“Wonwoo,” she sighed against his lips, thighs inching apart as he bunched the long hem of her gown up to her waist. He wondered distantly if Emma was going to ask him to stop—to see reason. But the glazed look in her eyes told him otherwise.

“More.”

Wonwoo wanted nothing more than to give her more. He’d do everything she could ever dream of asking him. Never mind the fact that it was more than a little messed up for him to consider fucking his boss right before she’s married off to the man who tormented her endlessly at sixteen. 

Nobody else mattered—not Leo, not the director, not even Emma’s intricate revenge plot that was years in the making. At that moment, only the two of them existed, only separated by a few layers of clothing before they could finally become one. 

But Wonwoo was abruptly reminded why he always chose reason before ambition long before he met Emma. Dreams and delusions were bound to end when you least expected them to. Reality, on the other hand, would always remind you of life’s harshest truths.

“Miss Emma?” They both could hear the voice of Leo's personal assistant outside the door to the hotel room, preceded by a few short knocks. “It’s time for your prenup shoot. Director Rodriguez is also looking for Sir Wonwoo. Is he in there with you?”

Whatever dream the two of them have fabricated only minutes ago had been erased from existence—all that was left was a bride-to-be with her dress ruffled in all the wrong places, and a pitiful secretary with red lipstick stains adorning his face.

“Yeah, he’s here with me,” Emma yelled over to the doorway, eyes refusing to part from Wonwoo's. “We’ll be down soon. Thanks, Christina.”

“Okay, ma’am. I'll just wait for you in the lobby.”

Wonwoo counted to ten before peeling himself away from Emma, quickly striding towards the bathroom to get some tissues both for himself and his employer. But while he was wiping off the lipstick on the corners of his mouth, Wonwoo immediately noticed the shift in the atmosphere.

Emma was already busy straightening herself out—smoothing down the creases in her gown and retouching her makeup as best as she could without her stylists. Wonwoo wouldn’t have minded the silence, it’s exactly the kind of setting he preferred working in. 

But just when he thought he’d managed to melt the Ice Queen’s heart over the past year, she turned arctic cold all over again. 

“After the wedding, tell my driver to accompany me to Leo's penthouse. Though I despise the idea, we have to go home together to keep up the act for everyone to see.” She gave her orders the same way she used to tell Wonwoo to sort the company’s financial reports—straight to business with little room for playing around. “Other than that, I don't have any more orders. You can rest easy for the day, Wonwoo.”

He felt like he should say something to address what just happened between them five minutes ago. To ask why she was pretending as if they weren’t breathing each other in like all the oxygen on the planet had gone in a flash. But Wonwoo wasn’t some desperate fool that overestimated his place in Emma’s life. 

“Duly noted, ma’am,” he muttered with the same degree of aloofness she’d just given him before tossing the soiled tissues in the trash. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

Emma didn’t even break face as Wonwoo's footsteps resounded on the carpeted floor. She didn’t even spare him a second glance. But then again…

He was her secretary, and she was his employer. 

That was all there was to it.

Much to Wonwoo's surprise, Leo's case was closed much sooner than he thought it would be.

Before Emma could even make it to the cathedral, the commotion had already started. Wonwoo had arrived earlier in the venue with Emma’s father, the director of PLEDIS Insurance, and were just about to take their seats among the other principal sponsors when the television screens mounted all over the church suddenly started playing a video.

A video that Wonwoo has already seen before.

He didn’t have to glance at Leo to know that he was sporting the most horrified look he could muster upon seeing one of your many sex scandals having an impromptu screening at the cathedral. Collective gasps and disgusted remarks were heard in a chorus of murmurs that reached all the way up to the high ceilings. 

Wonwoo could hear Leo's assistant, Christina—who turned out to be part of the sex parties her boss secretly indulged in—barking orders for the church staff to cut the feed. But it was too late. Those who needed to see the truth have already gotten their fill.

Recognizing that his daughter couldn’t possibly be wed to a man with a reputation that’s been tarnished in a church, of all places, Director Rodriguez ordered Wonwoo to contact the bridal car driver and tell him to send Emma straight home instead. It’s a job that Wonwoo got done fairly quickly, and despite the numerous text messages that Emma sent him demanding answers about what happened, he didn’t respond to any of them right away. 

After a few hours of digging around, Wonwoo eventually found out that one of Leo's cousins was behind the public exposé. Apparently, said cousin was able to obtain the same footage that Emma acquired and was able to sabotage Leo's attempt at seizing their family riches before Emma could even put her plans into motion. 

Well, at least someone else already did the dirty work for them.

As usual, Wonwoo collated all the information he’s gathered in a concise email. This was how he kept Emma up to speed about their progress—through self-destructing emails. He informed her about the involvement of Leo's cousin and how the trash had taken itself out, ensuring that Leo Choi had fallen from the false pedestal he’s clung onto for years.  

Their behind-the-scenes mission has been fulfilled.

While he didn’t expect Emma to respond enthusiastically, receiving radio silence in return wasn’t something Wonwoo had anticipated either. But he opted not to read into it much. She must’ve been royally pissed that Leo's demise wasn’t brought about by her own hand, and Wonwoo respected that.

The following Monday after the canceled wedding, however, he ended up finding out the reason behind her silence. 

“Boss,” sobbed Seokmin when Wonwoo timed in at the office. “Please don't leave!”

Immediately backing him up was Soonyoung, who didn’t hesitate to hug Wonwoo, even giving him a few pats on the shoulder as if they were old drinking buddies. “It's okay, Sir Wonwoo. You've been here long enough. Maybe it's about time you found your path elsewhere.”

…Huh?

“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo voiced out his confusion. “You’re speaking like I got fired.”

As if on cue, the third member of their trio walked in on the conversation as he sipped on his usual iced americano. Seungkwan stared at Wonwoo with a puzzled expression before saying:

“But weren't you fired, sir? Miss Emma announced it this morning, but I think she left right away after, too.”

Not privy to the way the pieces started to click in his head, Seokmin and Soonyoung kept consoling Wonwoo as he made his way to his (old) cubicle. Emma had been one step ahead too—someone already having packed away most of his belongings in storage boxes. Not to mention the notice of contract termination sitting on his desk. Effective immediately, it says.

“I really don't get it though” Seungkwan droned behind him. “You? The best secretary in the city? Fired just like that?”

Seokmin nodded. “I don't understand it either. You two were business-as-usual after the wedding. Miss Emma must've been so pissed that she didn't get married that she laid off the boss here.”

“True,” Soonyoung agreed with a snicker. “Boss, maybe Miss Emma's just being unreasonable. I bet she'll be begging for you to come back in a few days' time.”

Yeah. That’s what the situation would seem like to an outsider. But Wonwoo knew perfectly well that Emma wasn’t bluffing about this. She fired him for a reason that’s been stewing for more than a decade. Even if Gavin, Ezra, and Leo have had their taste of justice, Emma’s revenge plot wasn’t finished like Wonwoo thought it was.

Because Wonwoo was one of her targets all along, too.

I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.

“Where is she?” 

Seungkwan perked up. “Uh, maybe she went home? She told us something about feeling a bit under the weather?”

Seokmin nodded. “She's probably in her penthouse or something. If i were you, I'd start making it up to her.”

“Hey, you're talking like they're actually dating,” Soonyoung scolded with a laugh.

Not even bothering to thank them, Wonwoo turned on his heel and made a beeline for the office entrance—dead set on doing exactly what Seokmin jokingly suggested.

This is why I'm making it up to you, he mused with an exasperated air as he buckled up in his car. 

Can’t you just let me in?

Emma spent her first Monday after the entire wedding disaster with Leo holed up in her unit—stuffing herself full of ice cream. The only reason she bothered going to the office today was to formally announce that her secretary Wonwoo Jeon was fired—just like she’d been planning since the moment she met him again as her secretary after all these goddamn years.

Her high school bullies have been put in their place. Her fifteen-year revenge plot was finally over.

But why did she feel so fucking depressed about it?

She sighed pitifully when she realized she’d already emptied her tub of double dutch ice cream, finally deigning to get up from the couch to deposit it in the kitchen for later disposal. But just when she was about to continue moping in her living room, the doorbell to her unit buzzed from the entrance, making her glance that way curiously.

It could be her next-door neighbor. A kind, elderly woman who lived with her daughter. She borrowed Emma’s rosemary spices yesterday—something that she barely used because she often opted to go for food deliveries instead of whipping up her own meals. 

With that reasoning in mind, she didn’t bother checking who was at the door through the peephole. She simply undid the locks before opening the door—only to come face-to-face with—

“Hey,” Wonwoo sighed as he jammed his foot between the door and the doorframe. “Ma’am, please talk to me first. Did you think I wouldn't catch onto what you were trying to do?”

“Why do I have to explain myself to you? You’re fired, right?” Emma growled as she pushed the door with her back, but sadly, Wonwoo easily overpowered her. At least he was decent enough to not let himself in—he simply lingered out in the hallway with a placid look on his face. “What?”

“Emma,” her ex-secretary addressed her for the first time without any formalities. “If you fired me as vengeance for not helping you all those years ago, I get it. I deserve it, even. But after what happened sa hotel…

“You can’t convince me there’s nothing between us anymore.”

Her breath hitched, face growing warm at the reminder of that intimate moment they shared hours before she was supposed to get married. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could still feel Wonwoo's mouth on hers. But that wasn’t a thought that was healthy to entertain at the moment.

“What are you saying? That was all part of the plan, you know?” She bluffed with a mirthless laugh, fully turning to face him as she crossed her arms. “Make you smitten enough with me to let your guard down. Look, you didn't expect me to fire you, did you?”

“No, but you can’t fool me, Emma,” Wonwoo chuckled with a self-satisfied smirk. “You wanted me too—that was real. If I’m mistaken, then make me leave. Call security on me. If I’m the nuisance you so desperately want me to be, then get rid of me here and now.”

The silence was thick between them. Emma was practically shaking with frustration as Wonwoo stared down at her with that overconfident look on his face. She wanted nothing but to punch him, hit him, slap him—

Kiss him.

Maybe Wonwoo was right. Maybe Emma did want him more than she led herself to believe. 

Because why the hell did she fist the front of Wonwoo's work shirt before pulling him inside her penthouse? Why did she slam him against the door, earning a sexy groan from him as she crushed their lips together?

Was this a healthy way to deal with your current predicament? No—definitely not. But it felt too fucking good to pass up on.

Wonwoo, however, was all too quick to regain control—hooking one of Emma’s thighs around his waist as she gasped into his mouth. She could practically feel him smirk against her lips, and though she’s loath to admit, it only made her want him even more.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he chuckled before peppering her neck with love bites. “You might need to kill me first before I stop pursuing you.”

Emma spared him a breathless laugh that quickly melted into a moan when Wonwoo's hand found itself inside her oversized sleep shirt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were obsessed with me, Jeon.”

His fingers were warm against her skin, and Emma couldn’t help the full-on shudder that racked her body when Wonwoo grazed her bare nipples. The smile on his face was wicked—dangerous, even. 

“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, his breath fanning against her flushed face.

“What would you do if I was obsessed with you, Ma’am?”

Emma was well aware that Wonwoo knew the answer to his own question. It was obvious in the way he quickly picked her up from the floor, fully wrapping both her legs around his waist as he carried her towards her bedroom. But despite the carnal urgency in his grip, Wonwoo was awfully gentle as he laid her down on the mattress.

“Last chance to kick me out,” he murmured against her ear as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “You could exact your revenge on me even better, ‘no? I’m giving you the leeway to frame me for forced entry…among other things.”

God. She knew Wonwoo was a little crazy when he accepted Emma’s orders to help her make his old best friends suffer. But the way he looked at her with such crazed desire further confirmed her suspicions.

And she didn’t want her men any other way.

“Fuck me, Wonwoo,” she told him clearly before stripping her own clothes and laying herself bare for him to feast on—eyes lidded, desiring him just as much as he did her. “That’s an order.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, and Emma had to force herself not to drool over his perfectly built torso. If she had more patience, she would’ve taken her time worshiping every inch of Wonwoo's body, but he’d already set a fire in the pit of her stomach. One that she fully expected him to deal with sooner than later.

“So wet for me,” he observed with a lopsided smirk, pressing their foreheads together as he lathered his fingers with her slick. “Have you always wanted me this way? Do you touch yourself to the thought of me, Miss Emma?”

Yes. Fuck, yes. 

“That’s none of your business, Jeon,” Emma stubbornly insisted, keeping herself from moaning when his lips descended onto one of her hardened nipples. 

Wonwoo made good on the opportunity, using the fingers he’d used to feel up her slick cunt to rub her essence across the other bud he wasn’t suckling on. The effect was near immediate—Emma throwing her head back with a pretty little whimper as Wonwoo started to massage her breasts. 

Fuck. He’d always dreamed of getting to smother his face between them.

“Wonwoo,” she gasped out loud, hips bucking desperately when he bit down on her sensitive flesh. “F-Fuck me. Now.” 

“Demanding.” He pulled away from her sensitive nipples with a pop, staring up at her with a lustful gaze. “You enjoy ordering me around too much, you know?”

“You enjoy being ordered around, too,” Emma pointed out with a scoff, trying her best not to moan too loudly when Wonwoo's fingers started to toy with her leaking cunt again. “Just—I need you. Please.”

Ah, he never thought the day would come when he’d hear Emma Rodriguez begging for his cock.

“Okay, Ice Queen,” he relented with a playful laugh, kicking his underwear and trousers off as he pumped his already hard length. “Since you're so eager for me to fuck you, I’m not going to prep you anymore. You better not cry when my cock splits you open, okay?”

Hearing him talk so lewdly to her made her pussy gush with excitement. What’s more was that, not only was her secretary blessed with a face and body that gods would covet, but his cock was something she was afraid she’d keep looking for even when he was done with her.

He was awfully careful when he first pushed inside of her, sharp eyes riveted on her face as it twisted with both pain and pleasure alike. His size was something that one needed getting used to, and he wasn’t about to make his first time with Emma uncomfortable for her.

No, he wanted her to keep thinking about him even after they’ve had their fill of each other.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he rasped against her neck, licking a long stripe along the column of her throat to make her shiver. “Too bad you already fired me. I always wondered what it would feel like to bend you over and fuck you in your office.” 

He could feel her pussy squeeze his cock even tighter at the shameless image she put in her head, making Wonwoo smirk with pride as he started to move. Emma mewled his name, grabbing his face as he chased his lips. He was all too willing to give her what she wanted, meeting her with an open-mouthed kiss as their tongues clashed together in time with his thrusts.

“W-Wonwoo,” she moaned into his mouth, hips eagerly meeting his. “Deeper. Fuck me deeper.”

And fuck her deeper, he did—Emma’s got him wrapped around her pretty manicured fingers, after all. 

Wonwoo was relentless with the way he pounded her into the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing much too loudly in his ears. But he didn’t fucking care. The feel of Emma’s velvet pussy walls pulsing around his cock sent his mind into a frenzy—fucking her until the bedframe creaked, until Emma was begging him to give her more, more, more—

All of a sudden, she gasped, “Coming, coming—!” 

If being inside her was life-changing, feeling her cum around his cock sent Wonwoo straight to heaven. Her cunt spasmed deliciously as Wonwoo helped her ride out her high—lips locked together as they breathed each other in. 

“Cum inside me,” she murmured deliriously into his mouth, practically rubbing her breasts—sensitive and littered with all the marks Wonwoo left on them—against his toned chest. “Make me yours, Jeon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice.

“God, I love you,” he sighed a little mindlessly, and those carelessly uttered words made Emma’s eyes widen with surprise before losing herself to the feeling of delirium. 

Wonwoo spilled his load inside her quivering cunt with a long-winded moan, feeling like he’d been shot through the head and was experiencing a level of euphoria that bordered on illegal. Emma moaned at the feel of his warm cum filling her to the brim, bringing him down for another sloppy kiss as the heat of the moment started to dissipate in the quiet atmosphere of their bedroom.

As their breaths started to settle, Emma was the first to glance at him—to meet his eyes. Wonwoo couldn’t find any trace of the arctic cold Ice Queen that practically told him to scram the other day at the hotel.

No, it was just Emma. 

His Emma.

“Can I still take back my verdict?” she muttered softly, inching closer to bury her face in his chest. Wonwoo instinctively pulled her in for a tender embrace, kissing the crown of her head with a smile.

“You mean the contract termination?” Wonwoo chuckled. “Take it up to HR, Miss Emma. I’m just a lowly secretary.”

All of a sudden, Emma rolled over so that she was seated upright on the bed. Wonwoo had to keep himself from groaning at the sight of her—hair disheveled and body sporting all his marks. Seeing her freshly fucked by him was doing things to his libido. 

“You’re not just my secretary, Wonwoo,” she sighed, twiddling with her fingers awkwardly. “I…I wasn’t going to fire you anymore. I got used to your company. I…

“I fell in love with you.” 

The words floated between them like a cloud that couldn’t easily be swept up by the wind. Wonwoo offered her a comforting smile before pulling her into a firm kiss.

“Yet you fired me anyway,” he pointed out with a laugh. “Why? You couldn’t deal with the fact that you fell in love with one of your high school bullies?”

That earned him a punch in the shoulder. “You’re not one of them. You’re different.”

“And you’re in love with me too, no? You said it yourself. Since when?”

Shaking his head, Wonwoo then pressed a soft, featherlight kiss on her nose—one that had Emma’s heart fluttering like she was a schoolgirl.

Gosh, this man. He’s fifteen years too late.

“Maybe I’ve always been a little in love with you. Who knows?” Wonwoo spared her a Cheshire cat smile. “There’s more where that came from though.”

Emma punched him in the chest this time—a bit too close to the spot where he broke a few ribs months prior. But he didn’t care.

She could send him to hell and back and he’d do it for her in a heartbeat.

From: Wonwoo Jeon 

Subject: NOT-SO CLASSIFIED

Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well.

I heard that you dealt with quite a stressful client today. I’m very sorry that I wasn’t here to help you with the matter as I was given tasks to do elsewhere. In order to make up for this lapse on my part, I am cordially inviting you to dinner at 7PM tonight after work. 

Rest assured, the expenses shall be shouldered by me and your only job is to sit and look gorgeous as I wine and dine you for the evening. Sincerely hoping for your most favorable response.

Regards, 

Wonwoo Jeon

Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department

PLEDIS Insurance 

Your boyfriend :)

end notes: this wasnt thoroughly proofread so if you spot some strange errors (aka sentences in a different language bc this fic was partly in filipino) here and there, pretend you didn't see em! as always, ur feedback means everything to me so scream in the tags or my ask as much as you want ^__^

[dollfacefantasy]

hiii i’m not sure if you particularly like writing hybrid!reader but can i pls request something with leon where he tries to feel out his bunny/dog hybrid gf’s kinks by seeing how her tail moves in response to them. like something she really likes she’ll wag her tail real fast and he finds it adorable

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!puppy-hybrid!reader

summary: leon plays with his precious puppy girl by watching her tail

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, humping his boot, daddy kink, praise kink, breeding kink, scent kink, dacryphilia, and size kink

word count: 2.6k

a/n: no because i love this idea so much. it's been in my head since i got it. i hope i did it justice because i think it's so cute. thank you for sending it and i hope you enjoy <3

Leon’s eyes rested upon his favorite sight in the whole world. His precious puppy girl kneeling at his feet. If he had to guess, he’d say it was your favorite place to be too. All signs pointed to that conclusion. Your eyes were wide and locked onto his face. Your body vibrated and squirmed with the urge to jump into his lap. And of course, the way your tail wagged back and forth.

Swish. Swish. Swish.

The fluffy appendage moves in a lazy rhythm right now. You were excited Leon was home and wanted to play, but you weren’t thrilled enough for it to turn to a blur. He chuckles and reaches a hand forward to rub your head. That gets it to speed up a little bit.

“You have a good day, pup?” he asks.

You scoot the slightest bit closer while nodding. You tilt your head to the side, squishing the flesh of your cheek against his knee.

“Yeah? What’d you do today?” he says.

“Took a nap. Watched the tv,” you answer, “You look tired, daddy.”

He smiles at your observation and scratches at the base of one of your ears. Those ears, which were perked up at the moment, were so sensitive to everything. The wind knocking something over outside, his car pulling up on the driveway, and of course, small changes in his inflection. 

Though he sometimes wondered if that’s all it was. He sees the way your tail picks up a notch when his lips curl upwards with that smile. He wondered, if not hoped, that it was something more than just your heightened physical capabilities. If maybe, there was something within you, something deeper, some instinctive emotional connection that bound you to him. That was probably wishful thinking. Someone who understood him implicitly. Still that was how he felt sometimes, and it was always lingering in the back of his mind when he watched your cute little ass wiggle back and forth with the movement of your tail.

“A little. Had a long day at work,” he tells you, continuing the conversation.

“Oh. Was it boring?” you inquire.

“You could say that,” he says.

“I get bored sometimes when you’re not here too,” you say.

The short, curt way you speak drives him up the wall. His hand on top of your head trails down to your cheek and gives it a little pinch before his thumb lands on your lips. Your tongue darts out to give the pad a small lick.

“Cute,” he murmurs as his fingers descend to your jawline and then your throat, “Why were you so bored, puppy? You have the whole house to yourself. You have enough toys to fill a room.”

“But I was missing my favorite toy,” you say, nuzzling against his leg.

“Oh, your favorite toy, huh?” he says. 

His fingers tease the edge of the smooth material that was wrapped around your neck. In place of a collar, you wore a pink satin ribbon. It bunched around to the front of your neck where it was tied in a pretty bow. Leon’s own handiwork. He never saw a reason to collar you. You were the most loyal little thing on the face of this Earth. Even if he kicked you out, you’d probably just take up residence on the mat at the front door. He’d rather you look like the spoiled princess that you were and dress you in the pink ribbon to match the other pink items you wore, your camisole and panties.

You nod at the question he asked, the ends of your bow swaying with your motion.

“Yeah? Well, tell daddy. What’s your favorite toy?” he prompts you.

Your hand snakes up to the front of his jeans and paws at the area where you would soon feel the outline of his hardening dick.

“That’s your favorite?” he asks, feigning ignorance, “Wow. If I'd known that, I wouldn’t have bought you all those stuffies. Coulda saved me a ton of money. Just let you sit on my cock most of the time, and you’d be satisfied.”

You shrug, not caring to roll that proposition around in your head for actual consideration. Sure you loved your toys, but they didn’t come close to one tucked away inside daddy’s jeans.

He grins not only because you’re so fucking cute, but also because he can see your tail starting to go faster. As much as he wants to pull you onto his lap and breed you till you’re a mess of drool and tears, he wants more tonight. You were nothing if not eager, and while he loved that, it meant that it didn’t take much effort from you to get him to cum in minutes. You’d just get so tight, you never suppressed any of your moans or whines, your face always scrunched up into needy expressions of euphoria…

Anyways. He just wanted to tease it out tonight.

“You have been a good girl today. I think you deserve some time with your favorite toy,” he says, watching the specific twitch when he said the two words of praise, “You wanna play with it right now?”

You nod almost as quickly as your tail wags. A sonorous laugh echoes from him. His eyes hold that glint that lets you know there’s more.

“What’s your favorite way to play with it, baby? You like bouncing on it?” he asks, his voice gaining an amused lilt.

You don’t respond with words. He knows your nodding, but his focus is on your backside where he’s getting the only response he needs.

Swish.

“Maybe you like taking it face down, whining into the pillow?” he continues.

Swish Swish.

“Or maybe you like being on your back, legs over daddy’s shoulders?”

Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish Swish.

“I think that’s the winner,” he chuckles, “Why is that your favorite, pup?”

“It gets deeper,” you say. He watches as you try to be subtle about scooching closer. He wasn’t going to stop you though.

“Oh I see,” he says, nodding his head in mock realization, “You want it as deep as possible, right? And to do that, I have to pin you down, keep you underneath me where I can just fill that pussy up over and over. You like being helpless, princess?”

As his tone becomes more husky, you take your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Your hips fight the urge to squirm, but your tail can’t stop flinging itself back and forth. A tingling flame had been lit inside your belly, one you desperately wanted him to put out.

“Yeah. You love when I’m in charge. You love when all you have to do is take it like a good girl, and you can just let that little brain melt away,” he taunts. With each swish of your tail, it’s like he can hear a game show buzzer ringing in his points.

You wrap your arms around his leg that was nearest to you and pathetically whimper out “daddy.”

“What is it, puppy?” he coos.

You look up at him and give him the definition of puppy eyes. “I want it. No more teasing,” you whine. Despite your demanding words, you stay put. You were a good girl after all, and good girls wait for permission.

“What? You want it?” he mocks, “What’s the rush, baby? You don’t like daddy’s voice anymore? You sure were liking it last night when you were all sleepy. Just whining and clinging onto me, begging me not to pull out.”

The movements of your tail start to become blurry as you remember the previous night. He’d fucked you so good and talked you through it the whole time. The main difference between now and then was that then you had his cock stuffed inside you while he spoke.

“I do like it,” you defend with a pout, “But I just want it, daddy. Please. Wanna be full of you.”

“Full,” he repeats, “Does daddy stretch you out? Make you feel like there’s no room for anything else?”

You nod again, but you can’t take it anymore. You scoot forward more so your knees rest on either side of his boot. His knee kisses the space beneath your chin while the rest of his leg is flush up against your tummy, going straight between your breasts. He knows what you’re about to do, but he’s fine with it. Tilting the tip of his boot upwards, he gives you silent permission to start rocking your hips.

That was all you needed to close the gap between the top of his shoe and your clothed cunt. Lowering yourself slightly, your puffy clit brushes the leather. You let out a tiny mewl. Your face was already starting to scrunch up into a cute little look from such a simple touch.

“That feel good, sweetheart?” he teases.

“Yeah, daddy. Thank you,” you whimper.

Your hips move back and forth as if on a pendulum. The rhythm is consistent like the pacing of your tail. Back and forth, back and forth.

“I think you soaked through your panties, pretty baby. You gonna get daddy’s shoe all nice and shiny? Make it smell like you?” he says with a smug grin.

“Uh huh,” you mumble. 

But when Leon mentions scenting his boot, your tail starts going crazy. Absolutely buck wild. He wouldn’t be shocked if you sprained something from how hard it was moving. God, he was getting hard. A solid tent had formed in the center of his lap from watching you. So precious, so adorable. Those pants and whines of pure lust. The way your fingers were digging into the leg you held onto like you needed it to survive. The nonstop rutting of your hips matching up with the wag of your tail.

“Woah woah. Think my girl might be a little possessive,” he says as he watches you. He keeps his tone light. He wanted this to play out before he let himself have any. To stave off his desires, he palms himself over the rough denim.

Your eyes catch that, and it’s almost comical how you nearly drool. “I just want everyone to know you’re mine. You're my daddy. They can’t have you,” you say, nestling your face against his legs.

Your own pleasure builds in the pit of your belly. You’d found the perfect amount of pressure on his boot. You just had to keep grinding your aching cunt into the leather.

“Poor baby. No one’s gonna take me from you,” he croons and strokes your head. His hand moves so much slower than any of your body parts and the contrast intensifies the pleasure further.

“Good,” you say.

“Mhm. Trust me, you keep my hands full as is,” he jokes.

He watches as you keep whining and humping his boot. Your hips move like you’re on the clock. He can feel drool starting to drip on his jeans and dampen the fabric. If only he could see your eyes. He knows they’re getting glossy, hazy with the bliss coming from between your legs. Lucky for him, a particular jolt of ecstasy pulls your head back and ends with your face looking up at him.

“You’re getting to daddy’s favorite part, honey. Keep going, Keep being a good girl,” he says. Again, your tail jerks when it registers the magic words. You snap your hips with renewed fervor, chasing the elusive high. His fingers press down harder against his cock as he sees the gleam of saliva coating your chin and lips.

“When do we get to my favorite part?” you babble. Your voice was starting to give as the warmth of carnal pleasure encroaches on your mind.

“And what is your favorite part?” he asks, knowing what your answer would be.

“The part when I actually get your cock,” you whimper.

He shakes his head. “Look at you. Trying to be smart while you’re going dumb,” he teases, “Quit complaining. You’re still getting to feel good, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same,” you whine instantly.

“Oh really? It looks pretty similar to me,” he says.

You make a small sound that’s halfway between a whine and a growl. Even with your frustration though, your hips don’t stop.

“I’m just teasing you, pup,” he says, stroking your jaw with his free hand, “I guess it is different. I don’t see you crying like you do when I’m buried inside. I don’t get to see those pretty eyelashes all wet from tears.”

Your eyes roll back at the mention of being so fucked out you cry. It was one of your favorites, and Leon knew it. Being reduced to a crumpled mess of sobs against the heat of his chest got you like almost nothing else.

The reactions etched across your facial features are cute, but he can’t tear his focus away from your ass moving against its will through the force of your tail.

“But that’s not the big difference, is it?” he continues, “No. The real reason you want my cock is cause you want daddy to breed you, huh?”

As soon as it leaves his mouth, it’s like his mental buzzer is letting him know he’s won the grand prize. Everything about you goes haywire. You lock around his leg while your hips rut like you’re in heat. Your tail whips around so fast he thinks it could create a breeze.

“Uh huh, daddy- ah! Mm… just wanna be bred. Need it,” you ramble.

He feels his cock twitching in his pants. He’s sure when he actually does get it in you, he’s not gonna last too long. It’s straining against the zipper as is, and he can’t stop rubbing it. He’s almost as bad as you on the boot.

“I know you do. Silly little puppy. That’s always what you need,” he coos, “Just need to be pumped full of cum. My sweet girl.”

Your tongue is half lolled out of your mouth by this point. You’re past going dumb. Your head is swimming around in absolute thoughtlessness. Not a care in the world besides getting yourself to cum all over daddy’s boot.

He nearly groans out loud from the sight of it. He can feel the warmth of your pussy all over his shoe, the plush of your thighs clamped near the sides.

“You’re doing perfect, baby,” he mutters, “You’re gonna get your treat, I promise. Just let daddy watch you cum, and I’ll make sure you get your fill.”

You want to whimper “ok, daddy,” but your mind is too far gone for words. All that comes out is a strangled amalgamation of sounds accompanied by your head wobbling up and down. And the whole time swish swish swish.

Your swollen little clit had more than enough stimulation to get you to burst. Pants turn to gasps and fluid movements sharpen. You mumble against his leg, your lips squishing all over his pants and wetting them even more with your spit.

“That’s my good girl,” he purrs, which is enough to get another loud moan out of you. He chuckles and continues watching with his half-lidded, lustful eyes.

As the movement of your hips slow, your tail’s swings weaken. He still strokes your head as you catch your breath. Your chest puffs in and out while you feel your skin cooling down. It was hard not to get sleepy after you came, but before you have to worry about falling asleep at his feet, Leon scoops you up and holds you on his lap.

Rubbing your back, he presses some kisses to your forehead and temple. “There’s my girl. How’re you feeling, baby?”

“Good, daddy,” you mutter against his shirt.

“Yeah? You think you’re up for daddy breeding you for real now?” he whispers.

And suddenly, you’re not so sleepy. You sit up straight in time with your ears perking up. You nod and give him a lazy smile. He can’t see it, but he can feel that tail already starting to wag again.

[joeybsblackgf]

perfect - joe burrow

pairing: joe burrow x black!fem!reader

genre: smut, fluff

word count: 2.7k

content warnings: breeding kink, whisper of a daddy kink, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), they’re really in love

synopsis: joey just loves how perfect you are.

playlist: juno - sabrina carpenter

authors note: a hot, new joe burrow writer has entered the villa. hope u love it !! and if u like kpop u can check out my other works on @gojosnympho 🫶🏾

you didn’t go to a lot of joe’s away games. mainly because even though you were the girlfriend to a very rich and successful man, you were still a regular girl with a regular job and a regular life outside of him. you both preferred it that way, honestly. joe took comfort in the normalcy of you. being around you felt easy because you weren’t looking at him as joe burrow the quarterback of the cincinnati bengals. you were looking at him as joey, your boyfriend.

he came home monday night to the smell of you cooking dinner. he hadn’t even realized how hungry he was until the scent invaded his nostrils. he dropped his bags by the front door, promising himself that he’d get them later. the closer he got to the kitchen he could hear your sweet voice, very obviously singing along to whatever song was playing in your ears.

“how you let him cheat and take him back? must be your only nigga.” you rapped along with latto while you took the pan from the oven.

joe only watched you, taking in your comfy appearance. a tiny tank top, the shortest sleep shorts you could find, your bengals slippers, and of course a scarf on your head to protect your braids. his eyes were glued to your ass and the way the cheeks peeked out beneath the short fabric. you turned to see your boyfriend standing in the door of the kitchen, your heart leapt into your throat at the shock that ran through your body. you snatched your airpod out of your ear.

“god joey, you scared the fuck out of me!” you exclaimed. his heart fluttered at the name you called him, further proving his point of how you saw him.

“sorry, you just looked like you were locked in. i didn’t wanna disturb you.”

now that you were turned around, he saw just how tiny that tank top was. he could make out your brown nipples beneath the thin fabric and that fucking belly button ring with the diamond encrusted “j” dangling from it. his eyes trailed up to your face. that perfect, beautiful face that he had as his lock screen on his phone.

“it’s okay, baby boy! i cooked. are you hungry?” you asked him, not even aware of what you were doing to him. he didn’t know what it was about you but he felt like a teenager all over again because of the way he couldn’t control his body. he ignored his urges though, opting to give you a curt nod.

“starving,” joe replied.

“sit down then so i can make your plate.”

again, he nodded going to take a seat at the marble topped island in the middle of the kitchen. he watched you some more, his heart swelling once more with all the love he had for you. he didn’t think it was possible to love someone as much as he loved you. you sat his plate down in front of him and before you could walk away, joe pulled you into a kiss.

“what was that for?” you asked him when he pulled back.

“i love you,” joe said, his cheeks flushing that rosy pink color that made your heart melt.

“i love you too, joey.”

you walked away from him once more, this time to make your own plate. you were going to sit next to him but joe stopped you, “sit on my lap.”

he didn’t even give you a chance to answer before he was dragging your body onto his lap.

“isn’t this uncomfortable for you?” you asked joe who promptly shook his head no.

“is it uncomfortable for you?”

“no.”

“then relax and eat. i missed you, mama. i just wanna be around you,” he explained.

you talked some more while you ate dinner. you told joe all about what you got up to while he was away. he listened intently like he always did whenever you spoke to him.

“i miss you so much when i’m away. you gotta come with me to the next away game,” joe said with a hopeful tinge to his voice.

“okay!” you agreed, enthusiastically.

“you're so perfect,” he praised you. he placed a kiss atop your scarf-covered head.

once you both were settled for the night and about to get in bed, joe caught another glimpse of your nipples beneath your shirt. it reminded him of just how long he’d gone without being inside of you, three days. you crawled into bed next to the quarterback, none the wiser about the dirty thoughts swirling in his head. he pulled your body close to his so that you were pressed flush against his bare chest. the warmth of his body made you relax almost instantly. you missed him just as much when he was gone; even if it was just for a few days.

the cuddling started out innocently enough. you were both enjoying each other’s presence and warmth. joe absentmindedly began to stroke your arm with his deft fingers. you didn’t pay it any mind at first. you were just enjoying your boyfriend’s featherlight touches. he stopped those and used that hand to pull you in almost impossibly close. you gasped when you felt his erection poking you in the back.

“do you see what you do to me?”

“joey,” you breathed out.

“you’re so beautiful and so fucking perfect.”

he began to mouth kisses on your shoulder, his hand snaking around your neck to pull your head towards him so he could kiss you properly.

“been wanting to fuck you since i got home,” he admitted, his lips still against yours. he flipped you over on your back, his big frame on top of your much smaller one. “i’m so lucky to call you mine.”

joe put his lips against yours again, pushing his tongue past your lips to kiss you. it felt like he was replacing all the air in your lungs with his own. his hands began to trail over every part of your body making you ache with need. you could still feel how hard he was from where you laid beneath him.

“can i make you feel good, baby?” joe asked you, his lips ghosting against yours in a way that had every inch of your being begging for more.

“please,” you nodded.

he started to suck on the skin on your neck because he knew how much it made you squirm. once he was satisfied that he’d marked you up he began to kiss down your body. he pulled your tank top up and over your head and sucked in a breath at your exposed breasts. joe wasted no time sucking one of the stiff peaks into his mouth. you softly moaned at the sensation. no matter how many times you found yourself in this situation, joe playing with your body, you could never get enough. his other hand tweaked your unoccupied nipple drawing even more moans from your throat. your hands were planted firmly on his shoulders while you laid there in pure bliss. he let go of one nipple with an obscene pop and quickly found purchase on the other nipple. the cold air hitting your spit-slick nipple made goosebumps arise on your skin.

“let me see how wet you are,” joe grumbled. he kissed down your body to the waistband of your poor excuse for shorts. he tugged on them so you lifted up so he could pull them down your legs. “shit, no panties?” he asked when he realized the only thing that was shielding him from your pussy was the flimsy fabric.

“i knew you were coming home, joey,” you told the blue eyed man who was between your legs.

“yeah? you were ready for me?” he asked, using his finger tips to give the insides of your thighs those featherlight touches that made you ache.

“i’m always ready for you.”

joe felt his dick twitch in his boxers. he focused his attention back on your wet pussy. it was glistening with arousal. your clit swollen and begging to be touched. your little hole winking in anticipation. you whined at joe, wanting him to do something—anything. he kissed all around where you needed him the most; he was teasing you in the worst way possible. you whined again. this time pushing your hips up toward him hoping he’d finally eat you out. instead, he pinned your hips down to the mattress.

“relax,” joe said.

he moved his hands back between your legs. this time though, he used his calloused fingertips to spread your lips, “i know i say it all the time. but fuck baby, your pussy is so fucking pretty.”

your cheeks warmed at the dirty compliment. although you didn’t really get a chance to fully bask in it because he was pushing one of his long fingers inside of your pussy. your walls fluttered happily around it, sucking it in with urgency. he added another finger, scissoring you open for his dick. he brought his lips to your clit to give it a soft kiss and you felt electricity shoot through your body. he took the swollen bud between his lips, sucking on it. your hands went to push his head deeper into your needy pussy.

“that feels good, joey,” you hummed.

you grind your pussy all over his tongue, using his mouth to bring yourself to an orgasm. joe laid there pliantly, letting you use him because he loved the way you looked right now. he hooked his fingers inside of you, his mouth still busy pleasuring your clit. you whined out, your chest rising and falling in a quick pattern that made joe aware of how close you were to cumming.

“oh my fucking god!” you cried out. you dug your nails into your boyfriends shoulders as your orgasm came crashing down. you squeezed around his fingers as you creamed all over them.

you relaxed into the plush sheets of the bed, completely in awe of how quickly you had just come undone. you didn’t know why you were still in shock after all this time. joe knew your body. he knew what made you tick. what made you cum all over him with just a few measly pumps of his fingers and flicks of his tongue.

“taste yourself,” he said, bringing his cream-covered fingers to your lips. you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean, moaning at the heady taste of your cum.

“want your dick in me. please,” you begged him. you felt heat pooling in your stomach once more. you were ready to give him however many orgasms that he could coax out of you.

you tugged his briefs down until his dick flopped out. you couldn’t help but to moan at the sight of it. the tip was swollen and red with precum just pooling, waiting to be sucked off. you took one delicate finger and swiped the clear liquid off and promptly placed that same finger in your mouth. joe watched you with hooded eyes, his dick twitching with excitement. you wrapped your much smaller hand around him and began pumping him. you never broke eye contact with him while you jerked him off. you watched as he fell apart from your touch, his eyes glossed over in pure bliss

“that feel good, joey?” you asked him.

“you’re so fucking perfect,” he said for what felt like that millionth time tonight. but each time he said it you felt butterflies float around in your tummy.

“can you fuck me? i’ve been such a good girl,” you said. your voice was so soft and so pretty and so fucking submissive.

joe leaned down to capture your lips in a filthy kiss. he pushed your hand away from his dick, opting for his own to line up at your entrance. inch by inch he pushed into you causing you to gasp against his lips. you were sure you could feel him in your stomach and that feeling alone had tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. joe pulled away from your lips but not before giving you a gentle peck. he started off slow; he rolled his hips coaxing tiny gasps from you when you felt the tip of his dick rub against your sweet spot.

“you’re so tight, mama,” joe said.

“all for you, daddy,” you replied airily, already reeling from how good your boyfriend felt inside of you.

joe let a throaty moan spill past his lips at the nickname before speaking, “i’m gonna make you a mama tonight for real if you don’t chill out.”

“please,” you begged, squeezing around him. “we would make such a pretty baby, joey.”

he closed his eyes to compose himself because he was sure he was gonna break you if he didn’t. he rolled his hips again, knocking any other bratty comments out of your throat. he opened his eyes to see you below him. you looked fucked out: pupils blown wide, lips swollen, and a thin sheen of sweat. joe grabbed hold of your hips to anchor your body to the bed as he began to give you those strokes that had you crying out to him. joe looked down to where your bodies were so beautifully connected to marvel at the creamy ring that began to form.

“fuck…” he trailed, his eyes still transfixed on the obscene sight. “you missed me this much?” he teased you.

you could only give a small nod; you were so lost in the pleasure. but so was joe. his eyes were screwed tight at just how good you felt wrapped around him, so wet, tight, and warm. he fluttered his eyes back open though to look down at you.

“i love you so fucking much,” you told him, voice strained with lust. and fuck, he could’ve knocked you up right there. your big, brown, glossed-over eyes met his and the words that came out of your pretty, kiss-bitten lips next made him stop moving inside of you out of fear that he’d cum too early: “w-wanna have your baby.”

you whined at him. you started moving your own hips to get some type of friction but he stopped your movements.

“you’re gonna make me cum early if you don’t chill out,” joe explained to you. but his words meant nothing to you in that moment and you told him as much.

“but that’s what i want you to do, daddy,” you said. “want you to cum in me, please?” you pleaded with the man above you.

“shit,” he mumbled under his breath. he started moving again, this time he was pounding you. your eyes rolled into the back of your head because you could feel his tip bumping against that spot that was gonna make you cream all over his dick.

you couldn’t speak or even think for that matter. the only thing that mattered in that moment was joe. you wrapped your thighs around his waist, pulling him impossibly close just how he had done earlier. you gasped into his ear at how deep you could feel him inside of you. joe buried his face in your neck and nipped at your skin to add another hickey to the already blemished flesh. having sex with him was always like this, full of passion and unadulterated love.

“i love you so fucking much, too,” joe murmured into your neck, replying to your statement from earlier.

your orgasm began to sneak up on you. your tummy began to tingle and you could feel the way your walls started to flutter around joe’s dick. he groaned at the sensation, his hips stuttering when he felt it.

“you gonna cum, baby?” he asked you. you didn’t have to answer because the way you felt wrapped around him gave him all the confirmation he needed. “cum for me and i promise i’ll give you a baby.”

that’s all it took for you to let that band in your belly snap and your orgasm wash over you, “fuck, joey! fuck!” were the only words you could say as your walls spasmed around him. almost simultaneously, joe let his own orgasm take over. rope after rope of his seed filled you to the brim, making good on his promise to at least try to get you pregnant.

“you’re so fucking perfect.”

[satoruhour]

toji’s reaction to seeing you in short shorts/booty shorts around the house 🏃‍♀️

PAYBACK

a/n: sorry anon i didnt exactly like how this turned out but i still hope u enjoy !!!

wc: 2.1k

warnings: sorta crack-ish in the beginning, pleasure dom toji, soft dom toji, praise, toji is obsessed w/ you, kitchen sex, clothed sex, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, pussy slaps! (both w/ his hand and d!ck), fingering, clit stimulation, tit + ass fondling, unprotected sex, p → v penetration, creampie / breeding kink, brief aftercare, n*sfw under the cut

there were things that toji was good at holding back on, like telling you that you might’ve added a bit more garlic than butter for a garlic spread. he doesn’t tell you how your body heat warms him up fast and he desperately wants to pull away from you, but your slumbering state is so peaceful he would rather burn. 

and then sometimes he wishes he would just bite the bullet (even if you were his baby), because you were currently getting back at him for giving you the silent treatment. if he could do it over a trivial thing, so could you. toji’s probably still mad about your guess in charades, where you couldn’t understand that he was telling you he was riding a tricycle and not a bicycle, that mere difference of wheels causing a major roadblock in your relationship.

it was by far the stupidest thing you’ve argued about (you assume he had a bad day, too), and you were willing to talk things out and tell him he could’ve just put up three fingers instead of pointing aggressively to an invisible tricycle, but he opts to glare at you and sigh instead. you can’t believe he’s getting this worked up over a game of charades too, so you tease him the only other way you know how to.

it hadn’t been that long since you talked, but you figured you’ll need to start on dinner soon, getting a sick idea in your head when you see the new booty shorts you had ordered laying on your bed. you definitely thought it would be better for another day, but life is short and toji is not, so you pull them on and they feel divine, remembering the content smile on your face when your boyfriend had offered to pay for them — a reward well received when you check out your ass in the full-length mirror and the way it shaped your lower half.

the evening carries on as usual, but you can feel his stare once you emerge from your room in one of his shirts and he thinks you aren’t wearing any pants until you’re pulling out saucepans and reaching for the spices in the top cupboard that his shirt rides up and he can see your plump fucking ass; he chokes on his water.

with your back turned, you stifle a little grin and continue with your chores as the shorts ride up with each walk from living room to kitchen, but it’s all under the guise of cleaning and setting the table, wiping aimlessly, too, at the coffee table in front of the TV where toji sat, even if you weren’t eating there. you feel eyes on you when you return to the kitchen and continue your torture, cooking up a storm and bending over while looking into the fridge, while pulling out the plates for dinner, while—

“those the shorts i bought you?” bingo. although you’re not quite ready to talk to him yet, you succumb with a curt nod. toji obviously isn’t satisfied with your answer, footsteps approaching to lean on the kitchen island as his eyes keep his gaze locked at your butt.

“gonna ignore me for the whole day, hm?” it seemed like toji had other plans, his larger hand trailing up your thighs to your ass before curling around your waist. he’s pressing his front against you, hips grinding slightly even though you know he wants to do anything but that. you’re not wearing underwear, either, so the sensation of his bulge against your cunt is a lovely feeling and it takes everything in you not to moan.

you have to bring yourself back to reality to turn off the stove that feels so far away, hands clutching onto the countertops as you chase the familiar drag of your sex against his but toji only tuts, landing a slap onto your ass. “dinner first, baby.”

bastard. you roll your eyes and groan, but you didn’t seem to catch his innuendo, so you’re yelping when he suddenly flips you around and tugs at your shorts, pulling it off of a leg so there’s space for him. while your hands are pushing at his shoulders, desperately wanting to uphold your pride of ignoring him, you know the cool air against your cunt and the sight of fushiguro toji on his knees is only making you wetter.

and toji just smirks, looking up at you like his revered deity and you jump again at his cold hands prying your thighs apart, bringing a leg to rest on his shoulder. toji looks in love with your pussy, seeing your hole clench around nothing as your eyes beg for him to do something, anything, but he only continues to tease, running his thumbs along your folds and just missing your clit.

“use your words, sweetheart.”

“need…” toji raises an eyebrow, cheek leaning casually against your thigh and he grins as he sees you fight your own pride like you don’t want his tongue and fingers on you. give it a little more and you’ll break, because through the silence of your shared home and your heavy breathing, the tension is so infuriating that you’re willing to push away that stupid game of charades to the back of your brain.

you hate how needy you sound, though. “i need your tongue… p-please, baby,” you plead and drag out the name, and in the stuffiness of the kitchen, you think toji, one of the strongest men you know, looks the fucking best when he’s smiling up at you with a wanton want behind his eyes. “wan’ you, toji, wan’ you to eat me out!”

“oh… of course, when you beg like that,” toji plants a kiss to your puffy clit and the simple gesture makes you whine, “how could i say no to my pretty baby?”

toji delves in like he’s never eaten before, licking a thick stripe up your pussy to collect your slick before lapping at your clit, garnering a loud moan that reverberates throughout the house. you wish you never called him out on his terrible acting skills from the start, one hand keeping your balance while the other tugs on his black hair. harder and harder.

toji groans at your impatience as he feels you spread your legs further, moans and whimpers filling his ears. one hand sneaks under his shirt and squeezes at your tits, the other hugging you closer to him, fondling your ass at the same time. your boyfriend takes in everything, from your pleasured expression to your contracting tummy and he can feel himself harden below him.

but you come first, you always come first and he makes it clear when he halts for a second and you whine at the lack of contact. “eyes here, baby.” toji calls out to you, slapping your cunt and you jolt at the feeling, although it’s not entirely unpleasant; your eyes flit down to him. the other grins again and slaps your pussy a few more times, the wetness of your sex making loud, obscene noises, “tell me how good i’m making you feel, yeah?”

you mewl as you nod as his fingers prod at your hole and you swear the sudden intrusion has your stomach turning. you’re clamping down on his fingers which sets a pace, buried right up to the ends of his fingers as his palm collects your slick. your lover continues to abuse your clit, alternating between flicking his tongue and sucking.

“o-ooh, shit! they’re so deep, tojiii!” the moans you let out were almost pornographic, breathless and needy with how good he was giving it to you, the familiar feeling of an orgasm creeping up on you. his fingers keep a constant pace, stretching you out so well and the roughness of them feel so contrasting on your body, but you love it. “toji, i— fuck, i’m c-close!”

“taste so good, doll. c’mon, cum on my tongue.” the older man is ruined too, the heat of the kitchen getting to him with how the strands of his hair stick to his forehead, but more than that, he’s grinding into thin air, wanting any sort of relief for his hardening cock. “you taste like heaven, oh shit...”

“t-toji— i’m! oh, fuck, fuck fuck—!” it’s not long before you’re unravelling in his hold, legs trembling and incoherent babbles spilling from your lips as toji licks up your release leaving from your dripping, tight hole, sure to lap up every last drop. his emerald eyes hold yours as he cleans you up, body still twitching and shivering from the mind-blowing orgasm before he stands and removes his fingers, holding it to your lips.

“suck.” and you do, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around him like you would to his cock, free hand already making pulling down his sweatpants that has a little pre-cum leaking through it.

“up you go, darling,” toji mumbles, plopping you onto the counter with ease, and because he’s so tall, his pelvis perfectly lines up with yours. it’s probably also because you envisioned this happening, though, that you made sure to pick out a kitchen countertop with the proper height. he slaps the tip of his cock on your glistening pussy, an angry red from being neglected, groaning as your arousal provides lube with no problem.

“just so you know, i’m buying you more of those stupid shorts,” toji confesses before he pushes past your entrance, tip already stretching you so well that you laugh and moan at the same time, arms flying to encircle his neck to feel him closer. “f-fuck, baby… so tight, just for me…”

“’s all yours, toji,” you whimper softly, an unspoken look in your eyes that just says that i’m yours for you to use, “this pussy’s all y-yours— mmf—”

by then, he’s bottomed out, taking his time in filling you up inch by inch and your submission is reason enough for him to start rocking into you, hips faltering just a little by how warm and snug you felt that it has toji catching his breath. but he doesn’t hold back once you’re comfortable, bullying his cock into you at a faster pace into your pussy that sucks him in so well with each thrust.

“your tight, little pussy’s g’na make me cum faster than usual, pretty,” toji says with a breathless laugh, mouth tasting the sweat that lines your body as he kisses your neck. 

“that’s— okay,��� you choke out, pulling him away from the embrace and the sight that greets you takes your breath away. dark, lustful eyes trained on you and a stunning smile to match; you see your lover’s eyes soften ever so slightly when he hits that sweet spot in you, “i’ll take all— fuck- all of your cum, okay?”

and toji almost cums at that moment but he knows if he looks at you any longer and how your tongue lols out at how his cock fits so well in you, he just might; so he just settles for frantic nods, and nudges your head down to look at how his length moves in and out of you. your slick and his pre-cum is leaking all over the counter, squelching noises filling the kitchen. “look at how well you take me. good fuckin’ girl is what you are.”

you giggle at the praise because you know toji means every word, but your moans take over soon. there’s the twist of your core, that edging feeling that toji’s drawing out of you so well — it doesn’t help how he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing circles that you’re close, so close.

“toji, toji, toji—” chanting out his name is all you can do when you’re fucked silly, spilling over unexpectedly as you clamp down hard on his cock. toji groans when he feels you spasm over his length, hips not stopping even after you ride out your orgasm. you’re cumming so much that his stomach is wet, too, the pap! pap! pap! of his pelvis against your pussy sounding so filthy.

your babbles converge into three words, mumbling out i love yous to the older man and soon toji cums as well, swallowing your tearful confessions with a sloppy kiss and he’s releasing deep inside you. he can feel your mewls through the kiss, no doubt loving how his thick cum is spilling into you. his seed is hot, leaking from his tip in ropes and ropes until you’re filled to the brim and you sigh, content with how it feels in you.

your lazed hums make him chuckle, kissing you again and softer this time. “my baby, my sweet baby,” toji makes sure to wipe your eyes after, and mutters apologies against your forehead for the dinner turning cold, but when he sees you and your languid smile, he knows you don’t mind.

thirsts and drabble requests are open!

[anonymityisfunwriter]

Once Upon A December

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Of all the things your heart used to know, things it years to remember, Bucky Barnes is at the top of that list.

A.N. - I feel like you guys just haven't been made aware, but one thing about me, I love a good musical.

Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Anon's Birthday Celebration

Bucky softly swallows the air that seems to get more sparse as he thinks, truly thinks, about his latest conclusion. "I just - I think it's time."

His hands fold together, he hunches over, barely able to tear his eyes off the ground.

"I can't tell you what to do here, Buck."

"I know."

"Do what you think is best."

"Best?" He bitterly chuckles. "There is no best. I just - I'm hurtin' the both of us by holding on. And I don't want to hurt her anymore."

"You don't have to explain yourself to me."

"I feel so guilty every time I look at her." Bucky lightly gasps for air. "And God, I - Sometimes, I think that maybe that's the reason I'm the only one she doesn't remember."

Steve grips Bucky's shoulder, "Buck... it wasn't your fault."

"How do I let her go?" Bucky brokenly whispers. "How do I mourn the love of my life when I know she's right there, she's alive?"

Steve finds himself at a loss for words. There was no answer. Nothing he could say. It was a truly impossible situation. "I'm so sorry."

He shakes his head, clearing his throat, "I should go talk to her."

"I think she was in your - in her room."

Bucky winces at the correction. It wasn't their room anymore. Now, it was your room. He'd given you the space to try to regain that void in your memory.

And yet, it's all so painfully familiar. It's muscle memory. Walking to your room. Knocking on your door. The only difference is now, it doesn't feel like coming home, it feels more like the procession to his own funeral.

"James..." Your tone is flat, unsure as you open the door. He hates the guilt glistening in your eyes. He sees it every time you look at him. He hates that he's the one that made you feel that way.

When it first happened, when he first realized that he was nothing but a blurry figure dancing through your memory, he tried telling you.

He tried filling every detail of your epic love story in your mind. He tried forcing himself back into your memories. Nothing brought back the look of love and adoration in your eyes.

He offers a heavy smile, "Hi. Can I come in?"

You nod, stepping away from the door to allow him into his former home. The place looks the same, with the notable exception of the traces of him.

You settle on the couch. He sits on the small loveseat, perpendicular to you. "How are you?"

He licks his lips, offering a small shrug, "I start therapy in a few days again."

"Oh."

"What about you?"

Your voice is far more curt than you intend, "I didn't remember anything if that's what you're asking."

His heart stammers, "No. That's not what I meant."

"Sorry, I didn't sleep very well. Not that it's an excuse."

"Nightmares?"

"Just the same one." You're not sure how much detail he cares to hear, but the way he waits for you to continue is almost a comfort. Your eyes squeeze shut as the memory plays on a loop. "I - I don't remember the mission. Just bits and pieces. I was alone. On the rooftop. And then I see the HYDRA agent's face. When they push me. That's where the nightmare starts... I fall. It's dark. I can hear someone screaming my name. And it's over."

"You weren't alone on the roof."

"What?"

"I was on the roof with you. We were scoping out the area. They came out of nowhere."

Your eyes widen. It clicks. The sound of the voice screaming after you. It almost perfectly matches the timbre of his voice. Only now, his voice sounded strained, tried. "You were screaming my name."

Bucky nods, "I jumped after you. I didn't make it in time. I found you laying in your own blood."

"I'm sorry, James."

He hates the sound of his name so formal leaving your mouth. He can't help himself as he speaks, "You never used to call me that."

"Oh?"

A sad smile tugs at the corner of Bucky's mouth, "You only called me James when you were upset. Or when I was annoying you."

A light chuckle leaves your lips, "What did I call you when you weren't annoying me?"

"Bucky. Buck." He shrugs. He swallows the knot forming in his throat, his voice wavering, "A lot of pet names. I pretended to hate it, but I didn't."

You look up to see tears shining in his eyes. His voice breaks as he continues on, "You called me Sarge when you were joking or being flirty."

You reach forward, squeezing his hand. A tight knot forms in your throat, "I'm sorry I can't be the girl you remember."

He looks down at the warmth of your hand resting on his. He's acutely aware that this is the first time you've initiated contact with him since you forgot him.

He swallows back his tears, "You didn't take off your ring."

"It didn't feel right to." You start sliding the ring off, "I should probably give it back."

He immediately stops you, "Keep the ring."

"Steve said it was your mother's. I couldn't."

He shakes his head, his heart clenching with pain, "I won't need it."

You rest your hand on your chest. Your heart yearns to remember him, to remember his place in your life. It was right there. Like a word on the tip of your tongue. You could feel the memory of him glowing in the recesses of your memory, glowing as dim as an ember.

You were so close, and yet, it wasn't enough. "I want to remember. I so badly do."

He stroke a stray hair out of your face. Sitting this close to you, he takes a long moment to memorize every detail. The slope of your nose. Your eyes. Your lips. He knows he'll never be this close to you again.

He had to stop hurting you. He had to stop hurting himself.

"I know."

You rest your forehead against him. It feels both so foreign and so familiar all at once.

"Can I - Can I kiss you?" he asks. "Just one last time."

You nod, your heart shattering at the sound of the hurt in his wavering voice.

His flesh hand rests against your cheek. Your breath shudders, dancing across his lips. His nose brushes against yours. Once. Twice. You find yourself leaning forward, closing the distance. His lips brush against yours hesitantly at first. You can't help but notice the way they mold against yours perfectly.

The song that vaguely echoed in the back of your mind gets louder and louder, echoing with thoughts of him. The memory of him rattles against your skull, begging you to remember.

Your hand moves from its place on the cushion to his shoulder. Slowly, it creeps down to rest just above his racing heart. You hum against his lips, pulling yourself away from him.

You look up at him, your eyes shining up at him like they once used to. "Bucky?"

Bucky Barnes Masterlist Anon's Birthday Celebration

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez @ludicbouquetfromearth @matchat3a @famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff @valoraxx @blue786sworld @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @geminigengar @ansaturn @ecolle @lexhalstead3 @ybflkmj @mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112 @thegirlnextdoorssister @toomanyfanficsbruh @moonlightreader649 @breathtaking-cynthia @mirikusashes @beans-and-toast @niyahcoca @katiechikin @elxvrr @antiheroxsblog @infamouslyclumsy @krissydclayton93 @buckysbarne @deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic @whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @matchat3a @weallhaveadestiny @mostlymarvelgirl @honeydew3064 @michealharrypotter @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @withyoutilltheendoftheline @the-photo-hoe @rae-nna @sarachabeans1@double-shot-of-tequila @spookyparadisesheep @lunaalovesyouu @daisy-loves-bucky@roseproseposts @theoraekenslover@king814318 @maybesomedaytho @carlie-babes99 @sunshinechikin @as-white-as-snow-love @melala1030 @badasswlthafatass @armystay89 @multiversefanfics @cherrysscinema @breathlesspieceofdeath @ravenn-darkholme @bxckybxrnes24 @guiltyasreid @bellabarnes1378 @blithecapricorn @mrsnikstan

[j4desblurbs]

i needed “kisses on the nose” from the prompt list with logan, like, yesterday

give me my soft man!!

LOVE’S PERFECT ACHE

yes i got the title from a hozier song

summary: logan gets mad at you, and makes it up to you.

warnings: i made this angsty but other than that, no warnings

word count: 1.3k

logan had been acting cold ever since lunch.

curt responses, no petnames, a bit more sarcasm than he would usually use for you. all of these things pointed to something that was your fault.

no matter how much you wracked your brain, you couldn’t think of anything you’d done to make him angry.

it’s not until he walks into your shared room a couple hours later that you find the answer.

“wanna tell me what that was back there?” he says, causing you to look up from your book.

“what?” your eyebrows furrow. what on earth is he talking about?

“with scott. at lunch. talking to him like that?”

you feel like you’ve missed a chapter.

“logan,” you huff out his name with a confused laugh. “what are you talking about?”

“hand on his arm like that? laughing your ass off? what’d he say that was so damn funny, hm?” logan seethes.

you think back to your interaction with scott earlier in the day. it was just like any other time the two of you have spent time together. you weren’t entirely sure what was so alarming about enjoying the company of your friend and teammate.

but then you remembered logan has a temperament, an extreme distaste of scott, and a jealous streak like nobody’s business.

“logan,” you sigh. “it wasn’t like that at all. i was just laughing at a joke he made.”

he scoffs, his tone condescending. “yeah, right.”

you bristle at that. he almost never talks down to you like this. suddenly, a pocket of anger bubbles into your chest. before you know it, you hear yourself saying:

“funny, i never acted like this while you flirted with jean.”

logan stops cold.

“i never flirted with jean.” he says, plain and simple.

you scoff. if there was anything you hated, it was being treated like you were dumb.

“don’t,” you warn. “don’t do that.”

“do what, sugar?” his tone is condescending, demeaning. it brings the beginning of tears to your eyes.

“don’t pretend like i don’t know.” you blink, trying to hold back your tears, but one falls and makes its way down your cheek.

logan falters. he hadn’t meant to make you cry.

“honey-“ he tries, but you brush him off by holding up your hand without another word.

it’s only after you make it to the first empty room you find that you allow yourself to break down. ———————————————————————————

for the rest of the day, logan isolates himself, staying in your room as the hours tick by.

he was never the best at communicating.

by all means, he was trying. he really was, but it was just so goddamn hard sometimes. he could never get the words right and often ended up causing even more damage to whatever situation he’d fucked up in the first place.

he knew you weren’t doing anything with scott, of course he did. but some part of him deep inside couldn’t help but think that he wasn’t enough for you, or someone bad for you. so, when his worst fear was even remotely realized, he lashed out in ugly ways.

logan lets out a sigh. why’d he have to fuck this up? he had never meant to make you cry. it was the last thing he’d ever want. all he’s ever wanted was to give you the love you deserve. to protect you. never to hurt you.

and he couldn’t even do that.

he gets up, putting out his cigar. it was about time he stopped wallowing in his self pity and started looking for you so he could apologize.

he does end up finding you, in a small room off the gym. logan’s heart cracks when he sees you, curled up against the corner, knees to your chest, eyes red.

what had he done?

he says your name, and his chest tightens even more when you visibly bristle at the sound of his voice. the sight’s almost enough to bring tears to his eyes.

logan strides over, kneeling next to you. his hand is warm and strong when he places it on your back, but your body still tenses when you feel his touch.

“have you been here the whole time, bub?” his voice is soft, his familiar scent of tobacco and leather and pine enveloping you and making you almost give in and bury yourself in his arms.

almost.

you give him an almost imperceptible nod of your head, not wanting to speak just yet.

really, you didn’t trust yourself to not burst into tears the second you tried.

he sighs, shifting his position so that he’s in front of you. his hand gently pulls your chin up to make you look at him, his thumb wiping away the tear tracks down your face.

seeing how red your eyes are makes his heart do a slow twist in his chest. he had done this to you. and he wasn’t sure he knew how to fix it.

“i’m sorry.” his voice is quiet, gravelly. “i didn’t mean any of it, honey.”

you finally force yourself to meet his eyes, blinking slowly. he was lying. you knew it, could feel it.

logan rarely said anything he didn’t truly mean.

“i know you did. i know you meant it.” you say, the weak, broken tone of your voice hurting him even more.

“i want to explain. believe me. but i just can’t put what i’m feeling…..together. into words.” logan looks down, his mind racing. he was never good at expressing his feelings, and he was most certainly going to fuck it up if he did it without thinking it out.

“maybe you could try.” your voice, low and cracking slightly from lack of use, breaks him out of his thoughts.

he lets out a soft breath, unsure of how to explain himself. he owes it to you to try. to have what might possibly be the world’s most uncomfortable conversation if it meant that you didn’t loathe him like you did right now. for everything you do for him, it’s the very least he can do for you.

“you mean a lot to me, darlin. a lot more than it might seem. so when i see you talking to another man, happy with another man,” he trails off, a lump forming in his throat. “it hurts me. because every day i doubt that i’m the right one for you. every day i’m terrified that you’ll get tired of me, of us, and leave.”

as he talks, you slowly start to open up, pulling your knees away from your chest and wiping the remnants of your tears away from your face. your hands find his face, cupping his cheeks as you get onto your knees to reach him.

“logan.” your tone is firm. “why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

seeing the man you love, normally so tough and headstrong, almost curl into himself is a strange sight to stomach. logan seems small like this, not because of the way he’s crouched in front of you, but because of the palpability of his fear.

he clears his throat before he speaks, his voice soft. “i didn’t know how to say it.”

his hands come to rest on your waist, pulling you against him into a hug. he rests his chin on the crown of your head, one palm sliding up to rest on your back.

as you reciprocate the hug, you feel the tension melt away from his body, his arms tightening slightly around you as the thought clicks in his head: you still wanted him.

“i’m sorry, baby.” logan whispers into your hair. “i’m so sorry.” he pulls you away from him a little, kissing your forehead, then your cheeks, and finally your nose, resting his forehead against yours afterward.

you close the gap, pressing your lips to his, tasting faintly of tobacco and coffee. he kisses you back with equal gentleness. it’s a sweet, soft kiss that you both melt into.

you relish in the fact that you’ll have many more kisses just like these.