#famous toothbrush

[galeofquarterdeep]

That scene in TBB where it's like "Is there an Echo in here?" and Echo says, "Yes." [...] "I'm Echo." gave me a thought™

What if this was something that happened a lot during the clone wars because like, you can't tell me there's not at least one clone out there whose name was Wrench or Spanner or Screwdriver or something. And someone would just be "Hey, could you give me the wrench." and suddenly you're on a call with a guy called Wrench who you 1) don't know and 2) didn't ask for. And a few months latet you're best friends or something.

My point is; this is funny and it should've been something that happened like twice a day during the cw

[opalsiren]

yes i just spent €40 on disposable toothbrushes. and what about it!!!

[jlheon]

౨ৎ — who ru ? (lhs)

pairing. situationship! lee heeseung x fem! reader synopsis. enha try to figure you out genre. fluff & est. relationship at end wc. 2069 notes. ft. enhypen library.

none of heeseung’s members knew your name. 

which was ironic since they saw you nearly every day off they had. usually passing by heeseung’s slightly ajar door and taking a double take after seeing a female figure, then realizing it's just you, and wondering if you were heeseung's girl-friend or girlfriend.

they had grown used to your presence in the almost six months of you constantly around their home. yet nobody could ever figure out your name and who you were. 

despite running into you in the dorms multiple times none of the six had ever muttered anything more than a mere ‘hi’ or ‘sorry’ while passing. 

they always saw you around the dorms at least two times a week. though never once did they recall seeing you enter or leave. their eldest never brought you up, feeding into the idea you were some imaginary person.

heeseung was good at everything, including sneaking you in and out.

all of them being scared to say anything to you. acting like your identity was classified when they could just ask heeseung or you who you were.

but of course, riki loved to make anything and everything into a competition. 

after betting with his hyungs’ on who could figure out your name first, he spotted you in the house, residing in heeseung’s lap while he did some work on his computer. face buried in his neck while he typed away. 

riki camped out in the bathroom, with the door open, pretending to be cleaning the mirror. scrubbing the same corner repeatedly for almost ten minutes, waiting for you to use the bathroom. surely you would need to get up soon.

when he concluded that he couldn’t clean the mirror forever, he picked up his toothbrush and brushed his teeth. 

after brushing his teeth for a solid three minutes his plan was finally set into action. 

“hi riki,” you knocked on the open door. “how long do you need to brush your teeth for?”

“howdoyouknowmyname-” he spit out the toothpaste in shock. 

“riki, i’m here all the time,” you replied. “and you’re also a famous idol.”

“oh yeah..” he wiped his face with a towel from the counter. “why don’t i know your name though.”

“you’ve never asked,” you shrugged your shoulders at the younger boy covered in toothpaste. “do you mind if i wash my face, i think you’ve brushed your teeth thoroughly enough.”

“yeah of course,” riki set his toothbrush back in its holder and moved towards the door.

“you missed a spot by the way,” pointing to your chin to show where the toothpaste was left on him, lightly shutting the door.

riki’s plan had failed. 

the next to try and talk to you was jake.

he was confident that he could get your name out if you. maybe he’d even be good enough to figure out if you were heeseung’s girlfriend or not.

it was the day after riki had run into you in the bathroom. since it was their break before the long comeback season jake knew that you would probably be sleeping over. giving him the perfect opportunity to ask heeseung and you if you both wanted to eat ramen with him.

once the time on his phone read 11:15 he knocked on heeseung’s door.

“come in,”

“hi,” jake opened the door. “i was wondering if you wanted ramen, her too..”

this was perfect. surely heeseung would call you by name when he asked if you were hungry. everyone would owe him dinner for the week.

you and heeseung were on his bed. you cuddled up into his side while you both watched tiktoks on his phone. 

“baby are you hungry?” heeseung leaned down next to your ear. 

baby was not your name. jake frowned.

“no i’m okay hee,” you mumbled. “you can go eat though.”

he kissed your forehead before getting up from his bed to follow jake to the kitchen. 

jake’s plan had also failed, but the fact heeseung had called you a pet name gave him some idea that you weren't just a friend.

the uprise of interactions with the members confused you. they went from running away from you and avoiding looking at you every time you were within six feet of them to constantly seeking you and heeseung out. though it relieved you in a way since you were convinced that heeseung had strictly told them to act as if you didn't exist in the months you had spent together.

you and heeseung were in fact not an item, even though you both wished you were. you've known him since his nerdy bowl cut days in middle school, you weren't close before but after running into you years later that changed.

you knew that he had become an idol, it was hard not to notice when you saw his face on ads. never listening to his group but being able to recognize him if you were asked.

one day when you were on shift, at your then job as a barista at a small place. you had recognized him as you took his order. you didn't want to sound like an obsessed fan if he didn't remember you, so you simply bit your tongue the entire time. he had decided to tip you for bringing him his drink, which made you even more on edge when he left a stray napkin on his table with his number.

after that incident it was clear he recognized you from school, which was more worrying than relieving as he started to show up to your work even more.

eventually, his visiting you at work was not ideal anymore as he stuck out like a sore thumb with how tall he was paired with the black mask and sunglasses he never dared to take off.

alas, he had asked you to hangout somewhere else. now you no longer worked at that cafe and spent all of your free time off from classes being snuck into a kpop boy-group dorm to hang out with a boy who acted like your boyfriend but wasn't. awesome!

after your first encounters with riki and jake everyone followed after.

jay came in to ask if you had any allergies because he was making some lunch, again heeseung addressed you as anything but your real name.

two days later sunoo had sat down next to you on the living room couch and offered you a face mask. you nodded and you guys spent an hour together as heeseung and jay were gone filming for a variety show. right as sunoo was finally confident you guys were casual enough to ask you for your name heeseung walked in.

you jumped up from the couch making your way over and throwing yourself at him. holding onto him like a koala when he picked you up. he greeted sunoo, and brought you all the way to his room. shutting the door behind him.

you didn’t even get the chance to thank sunoo for hanging out with you.

within the same hour jungwon had barged into heeseung’s room, the door banging against the wall. 

“jungwon what the hell!” heeseung scolded, though keeping his voice at a whisper. “don’t you know to knock?”

“this is me exercising my leader privileges,” jungwon crossed his arms and fixed his posture.

“you could have woken her up..” heeseung stroked your hair, as you laid passed out on his chest.

“woken who up?” jungwon said mischievously, heeseung had to say your name now. 

“don’t act dumb, you can literally see her sleeping.” heeseung deadpanned. 

you started to shuffle in your sleep, beginning to wake up. 

“hee?” you grumbled. 

“it’s nothing, baby,” he answered. “just go back to sleep.”

heeseung sent jungwon a glare, shooing him out of the room. so much privacy for having only single room.

right when you thought it was over, it was finally sunghoon’s turn to figure you out. he contemplated creating a list of names that you kind of looked like and just shouting them throughout the house until you answered to one.

but after hearing jungwon explain how heeseung looked like he was about to chase him out of the dorm onto the street after he woke you up, sunghoon decided against his original idea.

he was sat on his bed for almost an hour thinking about what he could do. 

he concluded he should just be straightforward and ask you already. why hadn’t anyone else just asked you?

he let out a horrendous evil laugh that sunoo had given him a weird look for as sunghoon thought about how his plan was foolproof. he was about to be picking dinner every night for everyone.

sunghoon created a list in his head from what he gathered from all the other boys' failed attempts :

knock LIGHTLY on the door

make sure he is not interrupting anything

ask you NOT heeseung

get that free dinner

he waited for everyone to get to their rooms after dinner to make his way to the eldest’s room. you surely couldn’t have possibly fallen asleep yet as the sun had only just set. using his right hand, he softly knocked on the door. heeseung opened the door enough to show you sitting at his desk. 

“hoon?” heeseung questioned.

“i have a question.” sunghoon said firmly, keeping his chin up high, making himself look cocky in the process.

“shoot,” heeseung replied dryly, yawning at the end of his sentence.

“not for you,” sunghoon recalled the list floating around in his head, he pointed at you. “for her.”

overhearing their exchange, you took your attention away from the game you were playing on heeseung’s computer and spun the chair towards sunghoon. heeseung had no choice but to move aside and let the boy in as you had already taken note of his presence. 

“what’s your name? oh, and are you heeseung’s girlfriend?” he smiled, fist-bumping himself in his head as he finally did what the others couldn’t.

“i’m ____,” you grinned, finally happy someone had asked you directly like you and heeseung were hoping for. “i don’t know about the girlfriend part though.”

“____ i swear i was just about to talk to you about that soon-”

“i’m kidding hee!” you giggled. “i don’t understand why it took you guys so long, i’m always here.”

“i don’t know either,” heeseung agreed.  

“yeah right. you strictly told us not to look at her the first time jake caught her inside the dorm,” jay said as he walked into the room. 

one by one the rest of the group filtered into the room. sunghoon gives a whole speech about how he is truly the smartest and the first thing he wants for dinner is steak. which was nothing different from the usual but he was happy that he got to decide. the whole group talked for a few hours in heeseung’s bedroom.

once heeseung saw you yawn he quickly got up and ushered all the guys to get out as you were tired. while he was busy forcing riki to leave you collapsed on his bed and waited for him to join you.

“so girlfriend huh?” you teased as he climbed into the empty spot next to you. 

he scratched the back of his head with a nervous laugh before turning off the lamp on his bedside table. when the lights were off and you could barely make out each other's faces in the dark he spoke up.

“can i be your boyfriend?” he asked, his voice dripping with gentleness. he snuck an arm under your head and pulled you towards his chest.

“i mean i guess so,” you joked, causing heeseung to tickle your sides. 

you squirmed in his grip trying to bite him until he finally gave it a rest. 

you tilted your head up towards his trying to find his lips to give him a short kiss. ultimately missing due to the darkness and kissing his chin instead. the both of you giggled. heeseung then used his free hand to trace around your face to find your lips, bringing his head down to finally connect your lips to his.

the last thing you remembered before drifting off was the sound of heeseung lulling you to sleep with a song he had been working on for their upcoming album.

[wttcsms]

untouchable famous!reader who has a pristine reputation and is known for being “hard to get” (more like hard to earn) x famous character who somehow manages to charm you. except, when he’s trying to take you back to his mansion, he’s kind of drunk and convinces you to play driver and to just take his sports car and he’ll give u the directions. he fails to tell you that his sports car is a stick shift. you’ve never driven a manual car before.

so here you are, in a cute dress and high heels, learning how to drive stick in an expensive car, at night, and your driving instructor is drunk. then he has the nerve to FORGET WHERE HE LIVES, so you end up taking him back to your place. whatever. the night is still somewhat salvageable. not only do you have to haul his large body inside, he still wants to get freaky with you. too bad he’s clumsy and overexcited and his zipper gets caught on the fabric of his boxers. fantastic. mood = officially killed. when you go to the bathroom to freshen up and return to kick him out, he’s already passed out on your bed. as annoyed as you are with him, he’s kind of cute when he’s sleeping so you leave him be. the next morning, he wakes up and is like “did we have sex?”

you roll your eyes, tossing him a disposable toothbrush. he follows you to the bathroom and is presumably gonna start brushing his teeth right next to you, which is oddly domestic.

idk, just something abt reader being the stoic, unreadable one and character being the bumbling lovable idiot who keeps trying to make it up to you and hilariously fails every time but you find him endearing so you continue to let him “bother” you!!!!

[desperate-gay]

Alexia Putellas smut

Too Hot

Alexia Putellas x fem!reader

SMUT 18+

“Mami! Mama! Wake up!” Your daughter, Maria, shouts before jumping on top of both of you, causing the two of you to jolt up and groan from your previously tangled limbs.

“What did I tell you about doing that, chiquita?” Your wife scolds, sitting upright to wake up while your daughter frowns at the stern tone.

“Lo siento.” She apologizes, still holding a sad look on her face before Alexia pulls her in and places multiple pecks all over her face, making the girl giggle. “Mama, save me!” You immediately hook your hands underneath her armpits, lifting her up and shielding her in your arms. Your wife begins to teasingly stalk towards the girl in your embrace and sneak her hand onto her leg, grabbing ahold of it. Maria screams at the feeling of Alexia nibbling at her flesh, acting as if she’s a monster chasing her prey.

The three of you all very awake now stop for a minute to breathe at the playful banter. Your daughter sits in your lap, calming down her laughter from all the tickling.

“Are you excited to sleep at abuelas tonight?” Your tone more exaggerated to get the little girl more excited.

“Si!”

“Si? Ah muy bien!” You pull your daughter into a big hug while Alexia smiles at the interaction. Nothing makes her swoon more than seeing her wife and daughter speak in her native tongue. “Why don’t you go play downstairs while mami and I get ready, and when we get down there, we’ll make the best breakfast ever!”

“How will it be the best?” Maria pulls back, giving you a questioning look.

“Well, I’ll make some pancakes and then I’ll force mami to make her famous tortilla espanola.”

“Yay! Thank you, mama!”

“Of course, now go play while you wait. mami, and I gotta get dressed.” You pat her butt, encouraging her to move faster.

Once your daughter is out of the room, Alexia moves on top of you and pins you down. She nuzzles her face in your neck and starts to suck and nip at your warm skin, but as much as you love the sensation, you groan and push her back a little bit, knowing if you allow her to keep going you’ll never leave the bed.

“Ale, no hickeys! I don’t want to be questioned by your mother when she picks up Ria.” Your protest comes out as a whine as she continues making marks all down your neck, ignoring your light pushes.

“Cover them up then. I can’t help myself. I love it when you call me mami.” She purrs and sucks at one last spot before pulling away to see you all flustered and red. Eventually, you lean up, making the Catalan above you smirk, thinking you’ll give in to her seduction.

Instead, you hover right over her lips and whisper, “Be careful baby or you won’t get your gift tonight.” With that, you peck her lips and quickly slide out from beneath her to head into your closet. Her face looks as vulnerable and confused as a kicked puppy after your rushed admission.

“Gift? What gift? Amor!”

—

“So you got everything? Your toothbrush, hairbrush, clothes-“

The sound of giggling cuts you off, so you turn around and notice Alexia making silly faces and mocking you. When she catches your eye, she places a hand over her mouth and makes a strict face.

“Maria, mama does not look ugly!” She fake scolds, trying to take your glare off of her and onto your guy’s own child.

You roll your eyes before making quick action to grab a pillow and chuck it across the room to hit your wife’s face. Your daughter is now laughing hysterically, seeing her mami fly towards you and lift you over her shoulder while you struggle against her hold and hit her bum.

“Ria, help me! Attack mami!” You demand as you’re getting carried farther into the distance. Once you get slammed into the bed and Alexia traps you under her body with her legs on each side of your waist and her hands pinning yours to the bed, the sound of tiny steps paddle their way down the halls and closer to your bedroom.

“I’m here to save you, mama!”

Maria jumps on Alexia’s back, wrapping her arms around her shoulders and trying to pull her down away from you. The Catalan lets go of your arms briefly to reach for the little girl, allowing you to have more control over your body and move out from between her. Quickly, you stand up off the bed and take the child into your arms before running back into the living room and both grabbing pillows to defend yourselves.

“Shouldn’t have done that you two.” You hear a thick Spanish accent rounding the corner, making you and your daughter lift the pillows even higher. An alarm blares throughout the room, signaling it’s already time for your little girl to go to her abuela’s.

She gathers up all of her stuff and rushes to say goodbye to you.

“Bye, mama. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She says while you place a couple of kisses on her face. Before she can walk out, you scream a wait before rushing upstairs to grab something. Your wife and daughter look at each other with puzzled looks and shrug their shoulders at the same time, which if you had seen, you would’ve thought it was adorable. Making your way back to the front door, you hold out a fuzzy gray object in front of you.

“You almost forgot Ellie.” You pant, holding out the little girl’s favorite elephant stuffed animal. Maria crashes into you and wraps her arms around your legs.

“Thank you, mama! I love you!” You repeat the words back to her as she steps out the door with Alexia.

Sighing, you make your way upstairs to prepare your little gift for your dear wife. The two of you haven’t had a day to yourselves in forever and you’re not going to let it go to waste.

—

About an hour later, a booming voice announces itself throughout the house.

“Mi amor, I’m home!” Alexia frowns at the zero response and heads into your shared bedroom. “Amor?”

“I’ll be out in just a minute. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable on the bed, baby?” You say through the bathroom door, finalizing all the touch-ups on your body. You wrap a robe around you and tie it at the end before opening the door and making your way towards your wife. Alexia lies down with her back against the headboard in gray sweatpants and a black tank top, showing off her defined muscles. You close the bedroom door so Nala, who is currently fast asleep on the couch, doesn’t interrupt you both.

Alexia pats her lap, signaling for you to straddle it. You slot your legs on both sides of her thighs and lean down to sit on her lap. Her veiny hands place themselves on your waist and she ducks her head to start sucking at your neck. Humming at the feeling, you begin to rock her hips and make small noises, causing the taller girl to smirk into your skin. Her hands trail their way to the string of your robe in hopes of untying it, but she’s quickly stopped when you grab her hands and pull away from her lips.

“Why are you stopping me?” Alexia whines in frustration, wanting to do so many things to you.

“I want to play a little game.” Her head snaps up to look at you and sees your mischievous smile.

“I’m listening.” She says a little warily, making you laugh at her concerned expression.

“Relax, it’s not a life or death situation. The game is called too hot. It’s sort of like a competition.” Alexia smirks at the word competition, knowing full well how competitive and determined she is. “We get to have a make-out session, but we have to keep our hands to ourselves. Whoever touches the other first loses.”

She hums and leans her face closer to yours. “You’re going down, princesa.” Her lips ghost over yours while she grips her hands in the sheets to stop her from touching you.

“Not if you go down first, mami.” You smirk when you see her eyes darken and look back up to your eyes. Without warning, she smashes her lips to yours, causing you to let out a small moan and press your lips just as hard to hers. Your hands press up against the headboard above Alexia’s head so your hands don’t touch any part of her. She snakes her tongue into your mouth and swirls around to taste every bit of you.

“You should just give up now, hermosa. We both know you won’t be able to last without me.” Her lips stay hovering over yours while you keep your eyes fixated on them.

“Hmm, I could just grind on you and get off that way, but what’s the fun in that? I want you to touch me so you can rip this robe off of me and hopefully what is underneath it, then fuck me so hard into this mattress the whole neighborhood can hear who I belong to.” With each word, you trail kisses from her jaw to her ear, riling her up more and more. Your teeth tug on her ear, making the older girl groan and cock her head to the side to meet your lips again. The kiss becomes sloppy and needy, mostly because of the pent-up sexual frustration from the past week, not being able to do much more than an occasional quickie.

“Touch me.” She demands, pressing kisses under your jaw.

“If you want me so bad, you touch me.”

“C’mon amor, you just said you want me to fuck you into the mattress, so why don’t you just give up and touch me?” The older girl sucks on the spot underneath the corner of your jaw, knowing how much you love it. She smirks hearing your little moans and whimpers from the kisses.

You thought this game would be fun, but now you’re rethinking your choices. If you give up, you’ll get what you want but with the cost of Alexia bragging everywhere and to everyone. And god knows she will not lose to anything yet to this.

She pulls away after placing three marks down the side of your neck and stares at you with hooded eyes while whispering, “Just touch me and we can be doing a lot of fun things right now, mi amor.” Your lips capture hers quickly to silence her temptation while your hands turn white from pressing against the headboard for so long.

“From what it sounds like, you’re just as desperate as me so just give in, baby.”

She knows you’re right. Every day she has been thinking of bending you over at any chance and absolutely destroying you. Sadly, with a little girl running around, your job, and her games left and right, you both don’t have much time by yourselves. Let alone for sex. In the slight chance of actually having time alone, at least one of you is exhausted. So seeing you grinding on her lap, in a robe that most likely has a sexy two-piece underneath it, is driving her mad.

Every inch of her is screaming to put her hands on you and show you who you belong to, but she won’t lose. She can’t lose. Competitiveness is in her blood and she can’t control it, so she’ll try and break you down until you’re a needy mess and eventually, you’ll touch her, losing the game but getting what the both of you want in the end.

So knowing how headstrong the Spanish woman is, you decide to push her in a way you know will end up getting what you want.

“I bet Mapi is good in bed. I’m sure she would know where to place her hands and how to get me going. Maybe Ona too.” You tease, seeing Alexia’s eyes cloud in jealousy. Without a second thought, her hand reaches out and clasps around your neck, pulling you into her but not to kiss you. Her hand tightens making it harder to breathe while she continues looking at your submissive state.

“You are so pathetic, trying to get me all riled up, talking about my teammates. Well, you got what you want, I’m touching you, but you’re gonna know that I’m the only one who can make you feel good once you’re limping tomorrow morning.” There’s a slight rasp in her voice that lets you know she is on her last nerve. One wrong move and you won’t get off at all. She releases her hold on your neck and moves it to behind your head to pull you into a rough kiss. “You’re gonna put that whore of a mouth to better use and maybe I’ll let you cum tonight.”

You nod quickly in response and begin to swing your leg over her waist so you can give her what she wants, but you’re stopped by her hand forcing your leg back down.

“I thought you wanted-“

“You really thought I forgot about my gift.” Her hand moves to the loose knot and reaches to the string, pulling the robe off of you. A white lingerie set hugs your body just right, making the Catalan basically drool all over the mattress. Her hands rub down your sides and then to the skin of your thighs. Her gaze never leaves your chest which is barely hidden behind the lace.

“Do you like it?” Alexia looks up into your eyes with her mouth slightly open.

“Are you kidding? This is- I- you’re so beautiful, princesa.” A blush reaches its way across your face as the older girl continues to skim her eyes all over you with no shame. “Hmm, as much as I love this, I remember you being a little brat, so you’re going to make it up to me.”

Alexia adjusts herself so she’s flat on the bed while peeling her pants off. You climb down so your knees are at the end of the bed and your face is hovering over her boxers. Your fingers curl at the top of the elastic and begin to pull it down. The girl below you lets out a small sigh as the cold breeze meets her core. You start trail kisses down her stomach, going lower with each peck.

“I want your ass up in the air, bonita.”

One of her hands gathers your hair in a ponytail and twists it to be able to grip it all in one fist. She forcefully pushes your head down, telling you to hurry up. Your tongue licks a long stripe up her slit, testing the waters. You notice her breath hitch at the contact, so you take it as a sign to keep going. While you switch from sucking and licking at her clit, her hand grips tighter on your head and pushes you further into her.

“God your mouth is so good, hermosa. Keep it up and you’ll get a reward.” She groans, tilting her neck back in pleasure, but only for a quick second. Her head snaps back up to see the perfect look of your ass in the air while your head bobs up and down.

Your tongue glides down to her sopping hole and dips in, causing the girl below you to let out a small moan and snap her hips up toward your face. Your thumb moves up to rub soft circles against her clit while your tongue continues to work in and out of her.

“Just like that. Don’t stop.”

So you don’t. You decide to speed up your actions, driving her over the edge. Your thumb continues to rub circles but more softly than before. Her hand in your hair pulls you up so you’re now face to face with her. Her lips latch onto yours and she shoves her tongue in your mouth, swirling around and exploring every inch.

“Do I get my reward now, mami?” You shyly ask, pulling away just enough to be able to see her reaction.

“Why don’t you go grab the toy and we’ll get this party started.”

You’re quick to get off the bed and rush over to the drawer that holds all of your adult toys. Walking over to her, she sits up and grabs the harness from your hands before putting it on. You remain kneeling on the bed, waiting for her to give you instructions for where she wants you.

“C’mere, amor.” She says, patting her lap. You crawl over to her and sit where she patted, continuing to wait to see what she wants. Her fingers find their way to your panties and begin to tug them down, making you lift your legs to fully pull them off. She pulls you in by the back of your neck and smashes her lips onto yours once again while her hand trails down and gathers up your arousal. “How long have you been like this, huh? Dripping and soaking through your panties.”

You whine when her middle and index finger dip into you and pull out, rubbing slow antagonizing circles around your clit.

“Please.” You whisper against her lips.

“Please what, amor? Use your words.”

“Fuck me, please!” After seeing her take control of you, you’ve been a mess. It’s been so long since the both of you have had a night to yourselves and thankfully Alexia’s mom and sister wanted to see Maria. There was no way you could say no.

“Mmm, if you want to get off, you’re doing the work, so sit up for me.”

You lift up your hips as Alexia lines up the toy to your entrance. She pulls you down, allowing you to sink into the toy. You quietly moan at the feeling of finally being filled and start to unconsciously roll your hips which earns you a slap on the ass.

“I didn’t say you could move yet, did I?” She rasps, tilting her head and waiting for an answer.

“No, I’m sorry. I’ve just been waiting for this for a while, it won’t happen again. I promise, baby.” Alexia smirks at your whining and moves her hands to your hips, guiding you to start rocking.

“It’s okay, hermosa. You can keep going, I know you’ve been a needy little thing for quite some time. Get yourself off.”

Slamming your hips up and down causes you to moan extremely loudly, so you lurch over and stuff her head in the older girl's neck.

“We’re alone, we can be as loud as we want to, princesa. Don’t cover up your moans now.” One of her hands grabs your jaw and lifts your head up.

Seeing your eyes close in pleasure and sinful noises slip from your lips makes Alexia go berserk. She doesn’t remember the last time she got to see you like this, and oh is she happy she gets to see it now.

“Such a good little slut, bouncing on my cock like this.”

Without thinking, she grips the front of your lacy bra and rips it in half, pulling it off your body, and causing you to let out a little gasp.

“Ale!”

“Relax, amor. I’ll buy you another set.” Her lips latch onto your nipple and her tongue starts to swirl circles around the nub, making your head snap back in euphoria.

“Oh my god, you feel so good. I’m gonna cum.” You pant, speeding up your hips, but Alexia grabs your hips and flips the both of you over so she’s now on top of you. Her hands grab both of your ankles and lift them on top of her shoulders, making her thrusts go deeper into you. Your moans become louder and more frequent, fueling Alexia’s movements.

“Cum, amor. I know you want to.”

Not another word needs to be said before your head slams back against the mattress and the coil in your stomach snaps, but the Catalan’s thrusts don’t slow down, making you whimper at the overstimulation.

“Oh, bebe. Remember you were being a brat, so you’re going to take what I’m giving you like a good girl. We’re going until you can’t stand.”

And she didn’t lie. After four more orgasms, you had to tap out. She placed you in every position, even having you slammed against the wall with your legs wrapped around her waist at one point. But now you’re far too sensitive to take more, so Alexia being the wonderful wife she is, grabs a rag and wipes you down. She then carries you bridal style to the bathroom so you can do your business and finally relax.

You both now lay in your bed, facing each other and rubbing your hands on the other’s skin.

“You lost, y’know.” You say, breaking the comfortable silence. Without a word, Alexia leans over and playfully bites your shoulder.

“And no one will ever find out or you’ll be taking even more than you did tonight, okay?”

You shiver and obediently nod, causing the older girl to chuckle.

“Good girl.”

—

“Hola, Eli.” You greet your wife’s mom, waiting for your daughter to get all of her things.

“Hola, carino. Fun night?” She asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“Umm, nothing particularly exciting, but it was nice having a night alone.” You smile politely, nodding your head before you feel someone poking your neck.

“The hickeys say otherwise.” Alba snickers, continuing to press on the tender skin. Your hand flies to the spot, covering the, what you thought, makeup-covered skin. An arm wraps around your shoulders and pulls you into their body, you look up and see your wife with a smug expression.

“We had a fun night, right hermosa?”

[sissylittlefeather]

Fools Rush In (where angels fear to tread)

A/N: I don't know what's up with me and elevators right now, but here's a one-shot I hatched after a conversation with @atleastpleasetelephone about what I'd do if I met Elvis in an elevator. This is obviously the fantasy version 😂

Thanks to @ccab for helping me with this one. It was a little rough at times!

Warnings: 18+ SMUT minors DNI, cussing, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, someone has a glass of wine

Word count: ~3k

You work at the hotel, so you're no stranger to this elevator. You ride in it all the time to take things up to guests when they ask for them. Thats kind of been your job since you started here three months ago: fetch-things-for-guests-girl. You're supposed to just be working the front desk but for some reason anytime anyone needs anything, it falls on you to run it up to them. You've run up toothbrushes and newspapers and even trays of room service. That's really not supposed to be your job but you're not sure you can say no when they ask. That's probably why you keep ending up on the elevator.

Today, you brought a guest a sewing kit. He was a nice older gentleman and he asked if you could help him with a button on his shirt. Again, not a thing that's part of your job description but you did it anyway. He even tried to give you a dollar for helping. A sweet gesture, but you assured him it was unnecessary.

Now you're on the elevator headed down. Or at least, you were supposed to be headed down but for some reason the elevator starts rising towards the penthouse. You don't think much about it, not sure which rich or famous person is up there right now. You look at your shoes and notice the toe of the left one is scuffed. You're trying to figure out how that might've happened when the elevator dings and the doors slide open. It takes you a second to look up. But when you do, your heart stops and you do a double take.

Elvis Presley.

And he's alone.

He gives you a small smile and steps into the elevator with you. You can't stop yourself from whispering.

"It's you..." He gives you a sideways look and smiles.

"It's me." You look up at the ceiling and try to politely ignore him, assuming he doesn't need another person fawning over him. That would probably get old fast. You look at the buttons. 30 floors. That's a long time to ride in silence.

"Wouldja push the L for me, honey?" You're rattled out of your deep thought by his smooth baritone. It dawns on you that you're standing in front of the only set of buttons.

"Oh. Yeah, sure." You gently press the lobby button with your finger and look at him sheepishly.

"Thank you." The doors finally slide closed and the elevator begins its descent. You've fantasized about something like this happening for as long as you can remember. He's been your favorite singer since you saw him on Ed Sullivan as a teenager. You're not a kid anymore, though, and you know he's been playing Vegas for about a year now. He's a regular here at the hotel, but he hasn't been here since you've been here. You must've had your head buried in the sand to not know he was here right now.

You chance a quick glance in his direction, trying not to make it obvious that you're looking at him. He's absolutely stunning and it's like you can feel him in the tiny room with you, alive in a way that other people aren't.

"You're staring, sweetheart." He says, just above a whisper. You snap your mouth shut and look away panicked. Your heart rate is through the roof and you can't believe he caught you looking at him. But it's so hard to look away from him knowing he's right there.

"I'm sorry." You whisper it quietly and he chuckles.

"It's okay. Happens all the time." You feel him turn to look at you, but you will yourself to keep your eyes forward. "Besides, I don't mind when pretty girls stare at me."

Your head whips around and your mouth opens again. Did he just call you pretty? Now you're looking directly into his face and he's so breathtaking that you feel like you might pass out.

"You always this speechless or is it me?" He smirks mischievously. You've never been known to be quiet. It's him. You still can't find your voice to answer him, though. His smirk falls and he turns back to the doors, sighing bitterly. "Sometimes it would be nice to not have this effect."

You look at the buttons: you're passing the 19th floor. Still so many to go and goddamnit why can't you talk?!

"Sometimes I wish I'd just stayed a truck driver so I could have normal conversations with pretty girls on elevators."

He did it again. He called you pretty. You have to find your voice. You've got about 16 floors before he walks out of your life forever.

"You probably wouldn't be staying in the penthouse of this hotel then." Good God. What on earth made you say that?! You finally find your voice and that's what comes out?!

He chuckles and looks back at you.

"That's the damn truth, honey. I guess I should be thankful for what I have."

"I should be thankful for the opportunity to talk to you like this, but I can't seem to make words. Nobody's perfect." You finally lift your eyes to meet his and he gives a little snort-laugh.

"No, nobody's perfect. Except angels. And I'm not so sure you ain't one." Now it's your turn to laugh.

"Me? Let me assure you, I'm as human as they come."

"Good. Me too." You stare at each other in silence for a bit, both of you taking in the other. "You work at the front desk?"

"I do. I'm the errand girl." You cringe again. He doesn't need to know that.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, you forget your comb or need a set of nail clippers, I'm your girl." It's like your mouth has disconnected from your brain and is working all on its own.

More silence. The elevator is playing a song you recognize and you hum along to try to soothe the awkwardness. To your utter shock, he hums with you. When you pick up the higher harmony, your voices blend and it gives you goosebumps. He doesn't tell you that it gives him goosebumps too.

"Hey listen, I-" He's cut off when the elevator reaches its destination and the doors slide open.

"EP, we thought we'd lost you!" One of his bodyguards hollers and they hustle him off the elevator. He turns to look at you one last time and you wave awkwardly. He smiles and lets himself be whisked away. You put your palm on your forehead as the doors slide closed again.

A wave?! Seriously?!

Then you realize you were supposed to get off in the lobby too and kick yourself for your idiocy.

******

The next day, you come in to work like usual and the hotel is abuzz with the fact that Elvis is back and playing shows. Thats why you didn't know he was there yesterday: he'd just gotten in. You think back to your encounter with him and try not to cry. He called you pretty twice and what did you do? Acted like a complete fool.

Your shift ends at 4:30 and you're just about to pack up and leave when there's a call down to the front desk. Your coworker picks it up and talks to whoever is on the line. At one point, he looks at you strangely. You're not listening to the conversation, but the way he looks at you makes you nervous. Finally, he hangs up.

"I need you to make one last run."

"Mark, I'm almost off the clock. You can't handle it?"

"They specifically asked for 'errand girl'. That has to be you." You sigh deeply and put your purse back under the desk.

"What is it and where?"

"A comb and some nail clippers to the penthouse." You look up quickly.

"Wait, really?"

"Yep. That's what the guy said." Your heart skips a beat and you stand there staring at Mark. "You better go..."

You nod and gather the two things from the place where you keep all the supplies. Then, you make your way to the elevator. Your stomach is in knots the whole way up. It has to be him asking for you, right?

******

Elvis paces the floor in the living room of his penthouse suite. He's only been awake for an hour or so, but he's been thinking about you since he got off the elevator last night. When he told Joe to call down and ask for you, Joe looked at him like he'd lost his mind. But he has to see you at least one more time to make sure what he's feeling isn't real. He had half a conversation with you. Why can't he get you out of his head?

The doors slide open and he takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. You step out of the elevator and look around cautiously.

"Come on in, honey." He smiles awkwardly and you almost giggle. You never dreamed he was capable of awkwardness.

"I brought your things." For some reason, it's a little easier to talk to him this time. He laughs.

"Oh, right. Thank you." He walks to you and takes the comb and nail clippers from you and sets them on the table. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Sure! White wine?" You try to smile as he walks to the bar and fixes you a glass of wine. "Listen, I'm sorry about yesterday."

"What do you mean?"

"You probably get tired of people being all starstruck." He hands you the glass and shrugs.

"I'm used to it."

"Doesn't make it right. Can we just start over? I'm y/n." You hold your hand out for him to shake and he takes it and kisses the back of it gently.

"I appreciate the gesture, honey, but we don't need to start over. I'm Elvis. It's nice to meet you." You giggle softly and pull your hand back.

"See you can't do stuff like that!"

"Like what?" His eyes twinkle with mirth.

"Be all charming and cute like that."

"You think I'm cute?" You roll your eyes.

"You have to know you're cute. This isn't breaking news."

"I still like to hear you say it." There's a moment where he's looking down at you and it feels like he wants to kiss you. And he does, he really really does, but he's nervous all of a sudden. He clears his throat and sits down on the couch, spreading his legs wide. He pats the cushion next to himself. "Come sit with me."

You walk over and perch on the edge of the couch by him, sipping your wine and trying to think of something to say that won't sound dumb.

"Are you glad to be back in Vegas?" You wince. You did not succeed.

"Yes and no. I love performing for people. It's my favorite thing. Gets a little lonesome here, though." He's not sure why he's telling you this, but he just feels comfortable talking to you.

"Your... your wife doesn't come with you?" He shakes his head.

"No, she doesn't. And she's not really... I mean..."

"She's not good company?" He sighs.

"No, not really."

"Hmm." You're not eager to be the other woman, but he seems so desperately lonely that it's hard to imagine leaving him here.

"Enough about that. You wanna come to my show tonight?"

"Elvis, it's been sold out for months."

"I'm Elvis Presley. If I want you there, they'll build a table for you." He shrugs nonchalantly, but you can tell it matters if you say yes.

"I'd love to see it." He looks at you with his eyes sparkling.

"Yeah?"

"Of course. I've loved you since 1956. Why wouldn't I want to see you perform?" He raises his eyebrows and you wish you'd kept that part to yourself.

"That long?" You nod sheepishly. He sits up and puts his hand on your cheek. "You're somethin' else, sweetheart. You sure you're not an angel?" A soft laugh falls from your lips and you take a sip from your glass.

"Not an angel. Just a fan." He shakes his head.

"No. Not just a fan." Without warning, he pulls your face to his and presses his lips against yours. Fireworks explode inside you and it feels like you might die with the sensation of his soft lips. After a few seconds, he pulls back, sets your wine glass on the table, and presses his forehead to yours. "You're about the prettiest thing I've ever seen. And you seem to understand me in ways I didn't think possible. I'm pretty sure you're my angel."

You look deeply into his eyes and it's like your souls touch. All of a sudden he's a part of you and the idea of being without him breaks you.

"Elvis, I..."

"I know, honey." He dives back into kissing you, parting his lips to slide his tongue into your mouth. His hand grips your hip and he pulls you onto his lap, straddling his thighs. He mumbles against your lips. "Can I make love to you?"

"Yes... oh God, yes." You moan into his mouth as he lifts you and carries you into the bedroom. He lays you on the bed gently and hovers over you, rolling his hips forward to meet yours.

"My beautiful angel. I want to give you everything."

"Everything I am is yours, Elvis. Please..." He groans and runs his hands over your body, stopping to memorize the gentle curves of you. You lean into his touch, desperate to feel him on your skin. In a shockingly small amount of time, he has you both stripped naked, his body pressed against yours in a feverish frenzy of passion. His hands make hot trails over your flesh, followed quickly by his lips pressing desperate kisses to you. You've never experienced anything like this: the unbridled need for connection and sultry heat as it possesses you.

When he presses his tongue into you, it's like you've been waiting for him your whole life. Your body trembles with need and he moves his tongue on your clit with such fervor that you'd swear he's trying to devour you whole. But the ecstatic pleasure that rushes through you causes you to arch into him, begging for more. He obliges, sliding two of his long fingers into your pussy to tickle and tease you on the inside. You whimper and cry out, desperate for the release that's building in your hips.

"Elvis... god..." You moan, overcome with desire. He licks and finger-fucks you harder than you've ever experienced and you dance on the edge of an explosive orgasm.

"Cum for me, angel." He whispers into you, obsessively chasing your pleasure. It doesn't take long for you to do what he tells you, leaping over the edge into oblivion as your climax overtakes you, spilling out onto his hand as you shudder and pulse and scream his name.

"Elvis! Fuck!" He licks you through it, coaxing more ecstasy out of you as you cum harder than you ever have. When he feels your clit soften and your body relax, he pulls back, lips and chin glistening, and crawls up your body.

His cock aches to be inside you, to feel you wrapped around him and connected to him in an undeniable way. He kisses your neck and shoulder and cheek until he finally lands back at your mouth. You position him at your entrance and roll your hips forward, begging him to fill you.

"Such an eager little pussy. You want me to fuck you, angel?" He whispers it in your ear and you swear you could cum just from his voice.

"Y-yes..." He thrusts forward, his cock pushing into you halfway. You yelp and he stops to give you time to adjust to the size of him. As your pussy relaxes around him, he presses deeper until his hips meet yours and his dick is fully inside you.

"How does it feel?" You whimper and sweat.

"S-so good. Don't stop."

"Oh, my angel, I'm won't stop. Not until I know you're fully satisfied." He groans as he begins to pump into you with more speed and intensity. Your breasts bounce and he bends down to kiss you as his cock pounds you, over and over again. He fucks you like this for a while before he pulls out and rolls you over on your stomach. You moan as he pushes into you from behind, pressing his lips to your back and shoulders repeatedly.

The overwhelming sensation of being filled and fucked from behind threatens to push you into another orgasm. He slides his hand between you and the mattress to reach your clit and run over and around it with his fingertips. The orgasm crashes into you like a freight train as you scream into the mattress and cum on his dick.

"That's it, angel... I'm so close." Your pussy squeezes him and he grunts, no longer able to hold back. His cock throbs and fills you with his release in the aftershocks of your own climax. He whispers in your ear as his body jerks into you. "Yes, honey, yes..."

For a bit, he lays there with his head on your shoulder, the sweat dripping off of his hair onto your back. Then, he pulls out and rolls you over, collapsing on your chest and breathing heavily.

You run your fingers through his hair and hum again. He closes his eyes and soaks in the intimacy of being this close with you. The heavy weight of loneliness that's usually in his chest has dissipated and it feels in this moment like he'll never be lonely again. He looks up at you from where he's settled between your breasts.

"Stay with me."

"Tonight after the show?"

"Forever." It's crazy to consider. You've known each other less than 24 hours. But you hear the word as it exits your lips.

"Yes."

******

The End

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist;

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @tacozebra051 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @louisejoy86 @rjmartin11 @from-memphis-with-love @deltafalax @atleastpleasetelephone @cinnamoroll-things @burnthheparaphilia @jhoneybees @cattcb @everythingelvispresley @returntopresley

[finelinevogue]

love her stupid

summary - you are jealous of harry’s new bandmate, when you really don’t need to be

word count - ~1k

pairing - nonfamous!harry x reader

You didn’t think you really ever got jealous.

Not like this.

Sitting in your boyfriend’s room, alone whilst your boyfriend and his bandmates practiced downstairs, you never thought you’d be jealous of their new lead vocalist.

Your boyfriends band - Last Day on Earth - were in need of a female voice to better their music, and after many interviews for someone they came across Shana. She was a brilliant singer with just the right love for this kind of music - indie rock.

She was also out, most definitely, for your boyfriend.

You had come straight from the library to Harry’s house, hoping to spend the evening with your boyfriend.

When you arrived you heard them before you saw them. Harry and the band often practiced in his mum’s basement, as long as they were finished up by 10PM.

“Hello, love!” Anne had coddled you on the way in, taking your jacket from you and hanging it up in her under-stairs cupboard like you were part of the family.

“How are you, Anne?” You asked.

“Doing alright, love, yeah. You?” She pointed towards the kettle. “Cuppa?”

“Oh, no thanks. Just gonna see H if that’s okay?”

“Of course. He’s downstairs with Mitch, Tyler, Pauli and Shana.”

“S-Shana?” You questioned, pulling the sleeves of Harry’s sweatshirt over your hands and crossing your arms over your chest.

“Yes. She’s the bands new lead singer. Bit pitchy if you ask me, but it’s not my band.” Anne shrugged her shoulder and continued making herself a tea.

“Is Sarah here?”

“Yes, she is actually. Mitch is giving her a ride home I think.” Anne said, because apparently she was more clued up on your friends than you were.

“Okay.” You nodded, smiling. “Think I’m just gonna go to Harry’s room for a bit. If that’s okay?”

“Do what you want, Y/N. This house is as much yours as it is ours.”

You thanked Anne and walked up to Harry’s room.

Harry’s room was very stereotypical for a guy going through college. He had his bed with blur bedsheets and duvet. His posters on his walls from famous movies and concerts he liked. His bookshelf filled with Tolkein and Pratchett. His drum set in the corner of the room and his desk in another.

You threw your tote bag to the floor by the door and jumped onto his bed, before laying down.

His whole room smelt of him, obviously, and you absolutely loved it. He smelt so warm and musky. He smelt homely and comforting.

And after a long day studying, that was just what you needed.

You took out your phone and pulled up your text messages.

To Harry: in your room xx

To Harry: just going to lay here for a bit, then i’ll come say hi to you and the band xx

It took you a while to build up the energy to speak to people, especially after a long day studying. Your social battery took a long time to charge up and then drained almost instantly after one use, much like your old(ish) iphone.

You pulled out Harry’s Nintendo Switch and loaded up a new Mario Kart game.

Even though it was Harry’s Switch, you used it much more than he did. Harry much rather prefers his PC for gaming. A lot of the time he’ll game whilst you read, both of your sitting in comfortable silence as you enjoy being in each others presence.

Your phone pinged when you finished scrolling through Instagram.

From Harry: I’ll be up in 5 x

You didn’t expect Harry to stop practicing with his band, especially not for you, but it made your heart swell knowing he cared about you so much as to stop band practice for a little bit so he could see you.

A day apart from each other was too long. You had even packed your toothbrush today with the hope Harry would be okay with you staying over.

You pulled out Harry’s plaid pyjama bottoms from underneath his pillow, stepped out of your uncomfortable jeans and put on his pyjamas. It was a sigh of relief and comfort when you put them on.

You won your game on the Switch with a whispered cheer just as Harry walked into his room.

“Hey, you.” He smiled.

“Harry!” You cheered, dropping the Switch to greet him.

You sat up on his bed, coming to kneel at the edge of his bed with your arms out. He walked over to you and into your awaiting arms, linking his own around your neck and giving the top of your head a couple of kisses.

You hummed in comfort as you took in his homely smell.

You squeezed him a little tighter before letting him go. You moved back just a bit rested your chin on his chest, looking up at him from an unflattering angle.

“You okay?” He smiled down at you, double chins only making him look prettier.

“Mhm.” You tiredly smiled.

“How was the library?”

“Boring. Missed my study buddy.”

“Oh, I’m sorry baby.”

“Kiss? To make it up to me?”

Harry laughed, “Of course.”

He leant down slowly and you tilted your head to the side to let him have room. You captured his lips with yours, softly. It was a slow and soft kiss. Intimate and loving.

You pulled away, only for Harry to chase your lips back to his kissing you again. You smiled into the kiss, before giving him what he was clearly craving; You.

You reached up a hand from around him to bring up to his cheeks and squish them, so his lips could break away from yours.

“Oi, piss off.” Harry sounded silly at he spoke with your fingers squishing his cheeks.

You giggled, letting him go completely, before sitting back on your heels and smiling up at him.

Harry ended up resting his palms on the bed either side of you, bending down to your head height to speak to you.

“Come watch us play?” He asked politely, kissing your cheek.

“But Shana’s there.” You looked down, suddenly finding your fingers far more interesting. You messed with the ring on your finger that was actually Harry’s. The one he’d given to you one random night together, to show you how much he loved you.

“She is.”

“Yeah.” You said, not knowing how to articulate what you meant.

“She’s nice.” Harry added.

“I bet she is.” You huffed, when you had no reason to.

“She’s a good vocalist too, which is the only reason she’s here.”

“How good?” You looked up at him.

“Good enough that her girlfriend recommended her to us.” Harry smirked, knowing he got you there.

“Oh. Cool.”

Harry quickly kissed your forehead before standing up to normal height. “C��mon Little Miss Jealous.”

He held out a hand for you. You took it and he helped to pull you off the bed. He pulled you close to him so you chest hit his with a soft collision.

“Hey.” He spoke to get your attention. You tilted your head up to look at him through starry eyes.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

You smiled, “Love you too.”

“Who loves me?” He asked for you to be clearer.

“I do.”

“Good. Wouldn’t want you to be anyone else.”

Harry always knew what to say, even when you were being unnecessarily mardy. There was no reason for you to be jealous for Shana, but sometimes you got in your own head too much.

Harry was always there to coax you out of your head though, working through your jealousy until you knew there was no reason.

He always validated you, but he also always reassured you.

“Okay. We can go now.” You nodded more confidently.

“Ready to watch me with heart eyes, baby?” Harry smirked.

“Always do, baby. Can you play ‘Love Her Stupid’?” You gave him puppy eyes.

“Think that’s a great idea, love.”

••••

(bonus)

You made it downstairs with Harry.

You found yourself walking in behind Harry, who went straight to the cookie cupboard.

His mum hit his hand before he could grab the whole packet.

“You can have one, mister. Dinner will be ready soon.” Anne said.

You laughed as Harry groaned and tilted his head back in frustration. His craving for biscuits was a serious one. One that you joked about with him all the time.

“Y/N, tell him he needs to cut down on the biscuits.” Anne tapped Harry’s stomach.

Harry was toned, don’t get anyone wrong, but he also had a little bit of chub there when he wanted. You loved how he didn’t take his body too seriously, but also didn’t neglect himself.

“I do tell him. He just doesn’t listen.”

“Listen to your girlfriend H, otherwise you’ll bloody lose her.” Anne lectured him.

“Lose her?” Harry scoffed. “Y/N’s obsessed with me.”

“In your dreams.” You rolled your eyes, but realistically what he said was the truth. You were obsessed and you were okay with that.

[selfloverrrrrr]

Can I request Geto x reader. Reader has a crush on Gojo, but Geto is jealous because he really likes her. He has pictures of her in his room and has even stolen some of her personal belongings such as used toothbrushes and even panties. So one day while reader is leaving Gojo's house, she gets kidnapped by Geto and he drags her to his house to have some fun.

With Him?!

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference, jealous Geto....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Masterlist

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

In college I have two female friends. Shoko and Mei Mei. They were like my bestfriends. I shared everything with them and they shared everything with me. I loved them so much. We were BFF. But they weren't my only friends. Gojo and Geto was also my friends. They were also my close friends.

Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru were the most famous boys in our college. They were very well-known in our college for their charms. All girls were ready to throw their body to them. But they didn't give a fuck. Those girls were jealous of us three girls because Gojo and Geto were close friends of us.

But the thing noone knew was Geto Suguru has a crush on me. Oh no... that's not a crush that's obsession. He was obsessed with me. Always stalking me, following me everywhere, staring at me at college. But he never let anyone notice that. And one thing Geto didn't know is.... I've a crush on Gojo. That's bad...if he get to know...that will be soooooo bad... right?

We all lived in the college hostel. The hostel was huge. That has five floors. Geto and Gojo's room were in the first floor. Mine and Mei' Mei's one was on the third floor and Shoko's one was on the fourth floor.

It was a normal day. I was walking outside of our hostel. I saw Gojo's kitchen window was open and Gojo was doing something there. "Hey.... what you doing?" I asked him. He looked at me. "Oh y/n.... Uh nothing much.... actually saw a tutorial of making cake... but I think I did something wrong and can't even find out what I did wrong" he replied with a embarassed smile. "Ohh... can I help you?" I asked. "You will? I mean that will be great" he replied with a blush.

Time passed. We did fixed his cake and was happy with it. "Thanks for helping me" he said. "Your welcome sirrrrr" I replied. "Y/n....are you like.... looking for someone?...any relationship?" He asked slightly blush on his cheek. "Don't know if I'm looking for someone....but I definitely have eyes on someone" I replied with a smile. Suddenly I felt his lips on mine. My eyes widened. He pulled away from the kiss. "Shoko told me " he said. I blushed. "I never thought you like me too" he said. "Should have asked me... idiot!"I said and we both laughed.

Geto's POV

I was passing by Satoru's room. When I looked at his window my heart skipped a beat. I saw Satoru and y/n kissing. I felt my blood started boiling. Satoru told me today morning that Shoko told him y/n likes him. And now they are kissing???!!!! That's can't be! Y/n can't be his!!! She is mine...all mine!!!

Y/n's POV

I just came out from Gojo's room after saying goodbye. When I turned around I saw Geto standing there. "Oh hey Geto... what's up?" I said. "Nothing just hanging around... wanna come in my place.... I'm soooooooo bored right now!" He said funnyly. "Yeah sure" I said and laughed.

We entered his room. He told me that he's coming back and going to change. While he went to change I was walking on the couch. Then I saw a room. It was maybe his study room I guess.

I went to the room. I thought that the room is locked but when I grabbed the door knob it was open. I opened the door and went inside. My eyes were wide open from the view infront of me. I was froze in my place. That room's wall was full with my pictures. My pictures that I didn't even know someone took. And there was a big table in that room. On that table on one side there were some panties. When I went closser I realised those were my panties which were suddenly missing from my closet. Then on the other side of the table there were a laptop. That laptop was open. And what I saw on the laptop screen gave me Shiver down to my spine. On the laptop live camera footage were going on. And it was my room's footage!

All I can feel was fear. I started stepping back and decided to run from the house. I turned around and was about to run when I bumped into someone. And that was none other than Geto Suguru. I looked up at him with fear in my eyes. His face was expressionless. The way he was staring at me it digging into my soul. He started walking towards me and I started walking backwards."you shouldn't have seen these." He said in a low voice still walking towards me. " W-wait-" I tried to speak. " Now you have to face the consequences" he said. A smirk appeared on his lips.

My back touched the table. Geto was so close to me. He leaned towards me. and then he spoke. " You shouldn't have kissed Gojo. He doesn't deserve you. I do." He was staring deep into my eyes. More sceary thing was that smirk on his face. His face was too close to mine. I was breathing heavily. Then he leaned towards my ear and whispered in a low voice. "Now now... let's give you your punishment for that...huh?" His smirk became more hard.

He grabbed my hair and dragged me towards his bedroom. I groaned in pain. He threw me on his bed and locked the door. Took off his shirt and threw it on the floor then started crawling towards me on the bed."please stop" I said and tried to push myself backwards but he grabbed my leg and pulled me towards him. I gasped. He was still smirking."stop?... Where's the fun then? The fun part is about to began ~" he whispered and crashed his lips on mine.

I tried to push him away but his grip was too strong. I can't even move myself. He was kissing me too roughly. I couldn't breathe. He grabbed the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head. My boobs bounced out. He looked at those with lust in his eyes and didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensetion. I grabbed his hair and tried to stop him by pulling it but it didn't even effect on him. "G-geto stopppp" I scremed but he didn't stop.

Then he took off my skirt and then took off my pantie."I'm gonna took it too" he whispered and then looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " so wet. You naughty little slut, what were you thinking...huh?". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pant.

His dick sprang out. It was too big and too thick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " G-geto no no no... P-please no... s-stop" I begged but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I scremed. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thursting in and out roughly. I was throughig my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he was liking it so much. His thurst became harder and harder. I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thurst I came. He was still thursting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh...no please no....ahhhhhh..... n-not ahhhh.....not inside..." I moaned. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. " Shhh.... shut up and just fucking take what I'm giving you." He screamed. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me.

" You are mine and just fucking mine. Don't ever dare to think of Gojo again...." He whispered in my ear. He was still inside me. I was sobbing and trying to push him away but he was hugging me tightly. Suddenly we heard the sound of door open. "Yo Suguru can I use your..." The voice said a incomplete sentence. We looked at the door. It was Gojo. No no no... it's bad... it's too bad! He started at us with wide eyes. His expression was as if he felt betrayed. We can see the pain in his eyes. He took a deep breath and nodded. I couldn't even say anything. Cause I know I can't make him believe me right now. "I'll come later...nvm" he said and leave the room. Geto smirked at me. "Looks like you lost him, darling" Geto whispered.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[a-deep-ocean-of-secrets]

Home Is Where I Want to Be (But I Guess I'm Already There)

Summary:

The thing is, Buck didn't mean to move in with Tommy.

Read below or on AO3 (3.8k words)

The thing is, Buck didn't mean to move in with Tommy.

Those first few giddy weeks and months (like bubbly champagne buzzing through his veins every time he saw Tommy’s smile, kissed Tommy’s full lips, found himself tangled in Tommy’s bed sheets) of staying over in his boyfriend's cozy, Venice bungalow have him living almost exclusively out of his trusty duffle bag. Which isn't a big deal. He's used to lugging that ratty thing back and forth from the firehouse to his apartment. 

Can it be annoying sometimes? Sure. His clothes are constantly wrinkled (which majorly sucks when he's trying to dress to impress on date nights) and he's always forgetting or running out of one toiletry or another. If it’s not his deodorant then it’s his mouthwash. If it’s not his aftershave then it’s his moisturizer. Minor inconveniences, really, but worth it every time to wake up in Tommy's king-sized bed with Tommy's strong arms wrapped around him and Tommy's hot breath on the back of his neck.  

It doesn't take long for that to change. Like a seed beginning to take root, Tommy, as he’s done since the very beginning, makes room for Buck in his life. Just as he opened his helicopter to Buck and his friends and flew them headfirst into a raging hurricane on nothing more than an outlandish hunch. The same way he took time out of his busy schedule to grant Buck a private tour of Harbor Station and answered all his jumbled questions as Buck nipped at his heels like an overeager golden retriever, tail wagging a mile a minute, wanting nothing more than to be closerclosercloser to the cool guy with a megawatt grin, who called him ‘Evan’ and had his heart skipping a beat even if he couldn’t identify the why of it all at the time.  

So it’s not a surprise at all when he carves out precious space in his closet and lets Buck's colorful and patterned button-ups and polos blend in with Tommy's neutral henleys and shackets. They’re two big guys with a penchant for working out, so their wide array of tank tops, sweatpants, and basketball shorts become indistinguishable from each other. Their LAFD-issued shirts are so interwoven that they've given up trying to tell them apart and frequently go to work wearing the other's name branded on their backs, much to their coworkers’ loud and endless amusement. 

Buck’s grapefruit shampoo and citrus body wash relocate to the shower niche alongside Tommy's own sandalwood and frankincense-scented products. On the vanity, Buck's red toothbrush is a companion to Tommy's green one. 

All these minute modifications to Tommy’s home are simple and understandable ripple effects of Buck regularly spending a few nights a week there. 

The offshoots of that single seed deepen into winding vines without Buck even noticing. 

First, it's Buck's lucky set of boxing gloves hanging innocently alongside Tommy's Muay Thai gear in the garage. After a frustrating and tedious shift, he enjoys nothing more than a few vigorous rounds with Tommy’s punching bag. Then, Buck's large and varied assortment of books (ranging from biographies on famous figures such as Marie Curie to The Book of 10,000 Incredible Facts to the new YA fantasy series that is all the rage among Christopher and his friends) slowly but steadily find a home among Tommy's WWI & II aviation history collection on the shelves of the reclaimed redwood bookcase Tommy crafted by hand. 

His favorite cast iron skillet and Instant Pot take up permanent residence in Tommy's kitchen, alongside his garlic press and waffle maker. His 'Buck Off' coffee mug (a gag gift from the 118) is always ready to go for lavender and daffodil-colored mornings spent on Tommy's front porch overlooking the canal as kayaks and paddle boards drift by in the early morning light. The sinfully soft, ocean blue afghan Carla knitted for him during the pandemic is draped over the back of Tommy's unfairly comfortable sectional. Christopher’s US History textbook is lying open on the coffee table, left behind after a pizza and study session. The newest season of The Bachelor (the combined forces of Maddie, Chimney, and Josh got him hooked. What can he say? He loves love.) is TiVoed on Tommy's flatscreen TV. His Jeep has its own designated spot next to Tommy's ’71 Bronco. 

The roots of their budding relationship grow deeper and extend farther than the eye can see. 

Buck's most cherished brand of coffee is readily available in the kitchen cabinets. His all-time favorite blend just so happens to be named The Beast. A fun fact that never fails to stop him from leering at Tommy and waggling his eyebrows every time he brews a cup. His favorite cereal is stocked in the cupboards and his favorite yogurt is in the fridge. The same fridge that is currently plastered with Jee-Yun's vibrant crayon drawings alongside pictures of Tommy’s nieces and nephews in Chicago. A true collage of sparkly princesses and menacing dragons beside Polaroids of beaming faces on the sandy shore of Lake Michigan and sitting in the stands of Wrigley Field with messy hotdogs and giant foam fingers. 

Even food Tommy turns his perfect, aquiline nose up to but Buck loves (like quinoa and chirimoya) are now staples in his pantry. His most treasured cookbook, battered with stained, dog-eared pages with the margins filled in with his own corrections in his scratchy scrawl, holds a place of honor on Tommy's countertop on a wooden stand Tommy scrounged up at the local flea market. 

He has to rack his brain to remember the last time he spent a night at the loft. The last time he had been there, to pick up some clothes from his rapidly depleting wardrobe, it had looked even emptier and barer than usual with hardly any food in the fridge, the bed sheets stale and unloved, and a thin layer of dust on his kitchen island. The industrial, modern space had felt cold and clinical and nothing like a living, breathing home. 

It lacked the wooden floors Tommy had spent weeks refinishing as he lovingly sought out the perfect stain. It lacked the extra-long, extra-wide hammock hanging off Tommy’s back patio where Buck delighted in taking the occasional catnap on sunny afternoons. The loft hadn't inspired even a fraction of the warmth that Tommy's home did every time he walked through the door with the key Tommy had given him three months in, dangling from a helicopter keychain that made him grin like a dope whenever he pulled it free from his pocket. 

Buck doesn't realize any of these very important and essential truths until one morning when he nearly trips over his running shoe that was lying discarded by the front door. At the sound of his clumsy stumble, Baron, Tommy's five-year-old Shepkita ("That's not a word, Evan. He's an Akita Shepherd.”), raises his head from where he's lounging on his overstuffed dog bed, exhausted from their early morning run at the beach. 

At the sight of Buck being Buck, Baron lets out a jaw-cracking yawn and puts his head back down to resume his beauty sleep. Kicking the offending sneaker out of the way, Buck stops dead center in the living room, hands on his hips and wearing Tommy’s faded USC sweater that’s been worn soft from years of washings and smells tantalizingly of Tommy’s laundry detergent, and can't help but survey the terrain and take stock of how much of himself is residing in Tommy's space. He's visible in every nook and cranny. 

He has completely, and totally, infiltrated Tommy's home. 

The thought instantly fills him with indescribable joy that blossoms like radiant sunflowers inside his chest. For all of ten seconds. He then remembers the last time he unknowingly moved in with someone and the heartbreaking consequences of it.

Abby.  

She had been so terribly sad and broken in the wake of her mother's death. It had been as easy as breathing for Buck to step up, to prove himself, to try and do everything in his power to fix her with his love and devotion. So he stayed with her day and night, and his things had steadily trickled into her apartment. It had been easier back then to do, he had had so little to his name other than the Jeep and his clothes. And he can't lie, it was a relief to get out of that glorified frat house filled with Connor and the others. 

It had seemed natural to move in with Abby (even if she had been unaware of it). He thought they were building something special together, something made to last. He hadn't known at the time that while he saw a new beginning, she saw entrapment. For her, she would be trading one role of caretaker for another. Going from a sick mother to a young punk (at 26, he had still been a kid) who was stumbling like a newborn giraffe through his first serious relationship. Had she stayed, there would have been so much handholding on her part as he continued to figure out all the volatile nuances of life and commitment. And that hadn't been fair of him to ask that of her when she was so vulnerable, he understands that now with valuable time and distance. She had been so lost that the only thing she could do to find herself again was travel halfway across the world and leave him behind in the process. 

He had lived (however briefly) with Abby. He was living with Tommy, even if he hadn't clocked it until just now. 

And he wants it, he realizes with a jolt not unlike the bolt of lightning that had struck him. He wants to live with Tommy. He wants to wake up with him every morning and come home to him every night (demanding schedules permitting, of course). He wants their high-energy workout sessions that always turn into a different kind of workout and their sunset strolls through the canals with an enthusiastic Baron (complete with goofy selfies in front of David Hasselhoff’s house from Baywatch). He wants their weekends at the Venice Farmers' Market. He wants their monthly meetings of the LGBTIQA+ book club that Hen and Karen started and that Tommy and Buck have hosted twice now inside this very house. 

He wants Tommy. Plain and simple. He always wants Tommy. Tommy, who has the world’s worst fake mouth static, but jokingly brags all the same about winning a medal for it. Tommy, who acts big and tough on the job and up in the air, but he never fails to shed a tear whenever they watch the climax of a romantic comedy. Tommy, who always has a heating pad and massage waiting on standby for rainy days when the pain in Buck’s bum leg flares up like relentless flames. 

Tommy, who has no idea that they're living together. 

An icy sliver of fear sluices down his back at the terrifying thought that once Tommy learns they're essentially playing house with each other he might turn tail and run away, just like Abby did. Or, perhaps, even worse, he won't run, but he won't want Buck here anymore either. He can already see it in crystal clear HD: Tommy's handsome face shuttering to stone as it does when he's uncomfortable but doesn’t want to show it. His blue eyes darting away and his lips thinning into a brittle line as he tells Buck that this is all moving far too fast, that maybe they should take a step back and put some space between them, and then Buck will be banished back to his sad, pathetic loft that doesn't have Tommy waiting for him in it. 

He cuts the catastrophizing off at the knees before it can spiral into something far more treacherous. Tommy, for all his flaws — he drinks orange juice straight from the carton like a Neanderthal and he doggedly believes that his directions are better than the GPS ("I spend most of my time in the air, Evan. I know all the shortcuts throughout Los Angeles County.") — isn't the kind of man who runs away from a fight when the going gets tough. He's the kind of man who digs his heels in and comes out swinging the next round. And he's been nothing but kind to Buck the entire time they've known each other. He enforces tough love when he deems fit, but it always comes from a place of kindness and gentleness. 

They love each other. And they live together. It's time Tommy knows it. 

So, screwing his courage to the sticking place (Jee-Yun loves Beauty and the Beast), Buck shuffles his way into the kitchen where his boyfriend is manning the stove and making their breakfast. In the oven, a frittata bakes away in Buck’s cast iron skillet and on the stovetop, turkey bacon sizzles as it fries. Tommy, hair curly and wet from his earlier shower, flips crispy pieces while humming along to The National playing softly in the background on the radio. 

God, Buck adores this man with everything in him. 

Tommy catches him out of the corner of his eye hovering there like a massive dweeb and flashes a dazzling smile his way. 

“Hey, babe. What was that noise I heard?” 

He can feel an embarrassed blush rapidly bloom across his cheeks until his face is as pink and splotchy as his birthmark. “Oh. That was just me. I, uh, tripped over my running shoe,” he lamely explains. 

“They can be quite the menace,” Tommy says with his usual brand of wry humor. He chuckles quietly to himself as he turns his attention back to the mouthwatering bacon. For a tempting moment, Buck just wants to forget the stunning revelation he’s had and instead stay in this blissful, domestic bubble that seems to exist whenever the two of them are alone together. It doesn’t matter where they are or what they’re doing, there’s just an undeniable ease to the two of them existing in the same space, breathing the same air, hearts beating in tandem. 

But, alas, he’s a man on a mission. 

Reaching up and rubbing awkwardly at the back of his neck, Buck thinks through his options. He’s come to learn, through many a messy trial and error, that honestly truly is the best policy. The last time he had so thoroughly ignored the elephant in the room was when he had asked Taylor to move in with him for all the wrong reasons. 

That had been a train wreck of epic proportions, even for him. He had well and truly bucked that situation up beyond repair. 

But that was then and this was now. And the only things Tommy and Taylor had in common were their initials and their partiality to cruising around LA in helicopters. His feelings for them were night and day as well. He had loved Taylor, but by the exhausting end of their relationship, he hadn’t genuinely liked her anymore as a person. They were too different, their morals too misaligned to exist harmoniously together. It isn’t like that with Tommy. He both loves and likes practically everything about his fellow firefighter, even the traits and bad habits that annoy the ever-living shit out of him. 

“So, hey, I, uh, kinda just realized something…pretty important.” 

Smooth start. And to think, before he met Tommy he had honestly had game. But something about the self-assured pilot, from the moment they met on the tarmac at Harbor and he introduced himself as Evan instead of his standard Buck, had him tripping over his tongue in both the best and worst ways. His foot-in-mouth syndrome had ruined their first date and nearly all chances he had had with Tommy, but it was that same unfiltered nature of his that had Tommy granting him another shot and scoring him as his plus one to Maddie and Chimney’s wedding that never was. 

Which reminds him: he owes Tommy a dance. He files that tidbit into his mental to-do list for another day. 

Tommy looks at him with a quizzical raise of his brow as he lazily twirls the spatula in his hand. “What? Found some more facts about that jellyfish? What’s it called? The spotted—“

“Chriodectes maculatus,” Buck corrects automatically. “Or more commonly known as the spotted box jellyfish. Only the rarest jellyfish in the world, I might add.” 

The corner of Tommy’s lush lips curl up into a fond half-smile. “Yeah, that’s the one. I thought you exhausted all knowledge on it last night when we watched that documentary.” 

“In the words of Chinese philosopher Zhuang Zhou, ‘Life is finite, while knowledge is infinite.’ So, no, I’ll never know enough about jellyfish, rare or otherwise, to exhaust myself, Thomas.” 

Tommy mouths ‘Thomas’ to himself and looks to be gearing up a quippy retort of his own when Buck realizes with tightening dread that he’s on the road to derailing this potentially monumental conversation with talk of jellyfish, of all things. Honestly, he can’t even believe himself half the time. 

Time to pivot. 

“Forget about the jellyfish. They’re not important right now.��� 

Swiveling his broad-shouldered body, Tommy gives him his full attention as his eagle-eyed gaze slowly sweeps over the entirety of Buck’s 6’2” frame. Buck, for his part, staunchly fights the urge to fidget as he knows it would give him away in an instant. There’s something almost surgical in the way that Tommy, without ever saying a word, can expertly peel back all the layers of bone and marrow of Buck’s psyche down to his bleeding center where his festering insecurities and crippling self-doubt reside. 

If it were anyone else it’d feel violently invasive. But Tommy has only ever treated these undesirable parts of him with the tenderest of care, delicately stitching up invisible wounds Buck hadn’t even known existed until the moment Tommy kissed him in his kitchen and completely shook the bedrock of all his pre-conceived notions about himself. 

“Sounds serious,” he says after a moment of contemplative silence. The only sound in the kitchen is the hiss of the bacon roasting away on the stove. Through the window over the sink, a beam of sunlight shines in and bathes Tommy in its golden rays. 

Buck heavily exhales a breath out between his teeth. “It is. Or, it could be. Maybe. It really depends on how you look at it, I guess.” 

“Look at what?” Tommy asks, even-keeled as ever. It’d be infuriating if it wasn’t such a damn turn-on. 

It’s now or never. 

“Look at the fact that… We kinda, almost…sorta, seem to be living with each other?” 

Tommy freezes to the spot, his eyes going wide as he blinks, coming off as a perturbed owl for a moment before he schools his features back into his usual calm facade. He looks back down at the bacon and quickly flips some pieces before they can turn into a charred mess of meat. 

Composure regained, he asks, “Was that a question or a statement?” 

He’s always lightning-quick to toss the proverbial ball back into Buck’s court. Always willing to let him take the lead in their relationship and set the parameters and boundaries. Without fail, where Buck goes Tommy follows. It had been a sweet relief in the early days of their relationship when Buck was stumbling around blind, but nine months in and Buck needs Tommy on equal footing with him. It’s the only way forward. 

“It’s, uh, a statement.” Damn. That didn’t sound convincing at all. Closing his eyes and centering himself the way Dr. Copeland taught him, he slowly takes a deep breath, and then another, and then one more for good measure, opens his eyes, and looks Tommy square in the eye. “It’s a statement. We’re, for all intents and purposes, living together. And I want, no, I need to know what you think about…that.” 

Tommy’s gaze slides away and catches sight of Buck’s mug already topped off with his second cup of coffee for the day as swirling mist rises off of it. He sees Buck’s LAFD hoodie hanging off the back of one of the stools situated at the island. He spots Jee-Yun’s drawings on the fridge, giving the stainless steel appliance so much color and joy. He spies the Fokker Dr. I triplane chew toy Buck specialty ordered for Baron lying on the floor near the dining table. 

Tommy’s home hasn’t just been Tommy’s home in quite some time. 

He spots every single change that Buck has brought into his house with his very presence, and he gathers them to him like they’re the most precious of jewels. He turns to Buck and smiles at him. 

It nearly stops Buck’s heart for a moment. 

He loves all of Tommy’s smiles. He loves his smirk when he’s said something particularly snarky or deadpan. He loves the closed-mouth grin he does when Buck is batting his eyes and pouting and Tommy is steadfastly pretending he isn’t endeared by the silliness. He loves the smug curve of his lips when Tommy moves just right inside of him, hitting that elusive, perfect spot that has him seeing stars and clutching Tommy tighter to him until he can’t tell one limb from another. 

But this, this is his favorite Tommy smile by a far-flung mile. 

It is simply radiant. His smile is wide and open, with his straight, white teeth brilliantly on display. It stretches broadly across his rugged face, exposing his deep-set dimples on either side of his ample mouth. His nose adorably scrunches and his eyes are squinty with unbridled happiness. At the corners of his eyes, his crow’s feet spread like tiny estuaries spooling into the grooves of his tan skin. 

He looks boyish and carefree. And so very in love. 

All because of Buck. He was the cause of such boundless euphoria. No one has ever loved him the way Tommy unashamedly does. 

“What I think is,” Tommy says clearly and concisely, “I think we should make it official. What do you say, Evan? Will you move in with me?” 

Buck feels like he was socked in the gut, but only in the very best of ways. His breath is stolen from his body and he doesn’t even know if his feet are still on the ground or if he’s simply floated away with how incandescently lighthearted he feels at this very moment. 

“Y-You really mean that? You want to live together?” 

It never hurts to double-check. He does that every time with his faithful clipboard. It is truly the only way to be efficient. 

Tommy’s smile only widens further. “Evan. You’re my favorite person in the world. Of course, I want to live with you.” 

The sunflowers inside Buck’s chest come to full bloom. 

He and Tommy live together.

[pretty-little-mind33]

ooo thank you sooo much to @longlivedelusion for tagging me in WIP WEDNESDAY 🌸

I'm gonna add two small sneak peaks from an upcoming James Potter fic and an upcoming Tangerine fic 🤭💖 bc i couldn't choose!

enjoy my loves! (hopefully the full fics will be out soon!)

JAMES POTTER - Afterglow

James is ten minutes late. You want to kill him. 

"Oi," his voice calls from behind you, irritatingly nonchalant. You turn and see he's also wearing his Quidditch sweater—which means you're now unintentionally matching—and a pair of casual trousers. James sends you a lopsided smirk, pushing his hands into his pockets as he sways on his feet almost awkwardly. "Why so gloomy, newb?" he mocks, the nickname rolling cruelly from his tongue.

You scrunch up your nose and spin around, walking in front of him as you clutch your purse. You don't want to give him a reaction and have him mock you the entire way into town. Instead, you both walk in silence, taking in the morning air and the sound of the birds. Occasionally your purse will hit James's hip and he'll frown, opening to say another snarky comment until he sees a keychain; the one you have of Olive Gnats, a famous chaser from the Montrose Magpies.

"Oh, Gnats, I like her too—" he finds himself admitting before he can remind himself he hates you. 

You startle and clutch your keychain, wanting to hide it from him but then you look down and then back up. "Yeah, she's my favorite player. Her technique is incomparable."

"Seen her match last year?"

"'Course," you say, your tone less on edge now that you're talking about something you clearly love, and the rambling you do so much kicks in, "I would watch her every game ever since I was six years old. Have around ten posters in my room at home, some are old now but—I- I studied her moves when I would play around with my mum and dad—they also played in school—that's how they met and—"

You cut yourself off, James's earlier taunts ringing in your head.

TANGERINE - The Archer pt.2 of Delicate

Y/n. Tangerine mouths your name as he stares into the bathroom mirror, his toothbrush hanging from his lips. Y/n. The name suits you and warmth spreads inside his stomach as he spits into the sink and his mind is filled with memories of how sweetly you'd looked at him.

Fuck. 

"Oi," Lemon's hurried voice snaps him out of whatever was happening and Tangerine turns to him, leaning his hip against the counter. "Some weird fucker is on the phone," Lemon shows his brother his phone, an unknown number displayed clearly on the screen. "Says we have something of his."

Tangerine bristles and his jaw clenches involuntarily. He holds out his hand for Lemon to hand him the phone and when he does it puts it on speaker and holds it close to his ear, letting Lemon lean in and hear the conversation. 

"'Ello?"

"You have something of mine," a hoarse voice cuts the silence. The man behind the phone sounds older, like his voice has had the time to become damaged from years of smoking, and he has a Irish accent.

"And what might that be?" Tangerine retorts, sending Lemon an unsure look but he keeps his tone steady.

"You have my wife."

~ hehe 😉 ~

absolutely NO pressure tags to some of my lovelies - @little-miss-dilf-lover ~ @moonlightspencie ~ @lost-pen-name ~ @ellecdc ~ @j23r23

[kneelingshadowsalome]

can you give me a quick bio on ghost…his personality, how you view him canon and what not

Ghost headcanons

Ghost doesn't wear a mask in public. It's easier to maintain his anonymity that way because a skull mask/balaclava would only draw more attention. The only instances he might wear it in a public place would be if he's with people he doesn't wish to get linked to/associated with (like in the famous scene where he's at a bar with Laswell & co)

He doesn't have a home, not even a rental flat. He stays at the base, stays at motels, hotels, b&bs when he's in England. Partly because having anything stable in his life is dangerous, partly because his attachment issues are so severe that even owning a place will make him feel uncomfortable. Returning to the same, dusty place with only a tv and a fridge to keep him company is depressing.

He never visits Manchester. Too many sour memories and too many people who might still recognize him when he's supposed to be dead. There's no one there left to visit either, save for a few old friends who he can't keep in contact with because he wants to protect them.

He hasn't dated since he was 20-something. He doesn't want to take the risk of losing his loved ones ever again. He's had a few one night stands but disappears before dawn, hating the man he has to be in order to protect those who might otherwise steal their way into his heart.

He's considered using escort services instead, but even the thought leaves a foul taste in his mouth because of his childhood memories and the things his father did to women. He goes to strip clubs sometimes when he has a weak moment, drinks one whiskey and then goes to his motel room and jerks himself off, feeling lousy and even more depressed afterward.

If we ignore this man's attachment issues and complex trauma and imagine he would settle into a situationship or even a relationship:

Ghost is not mean, brutal or abusive. In bed or in any non-work related circumstances (Ghost would say he's not brutal or mean at work either: he's just efficient.) He can be rough if you want and even enjoys manhandling you a little, but he would have a hard time degrading you. He's a soft dom and a service top through and through and quite the gentleman at heart.

He has a lot of money. He's not a spender and has no kids so the pile of wealth he's accumulated over the years is quite enormous. He will spend his money on you though, take you out to dinner, buy you anything you need. He does it so willingly and effortlessly that you soon get a feeling that he's your sugar daddy or at least would want to be. He pays your electricity bill if he finds it on your table and sees it's overdue, doesn't even bother to ask for your permission. And oh, do you need a gorgeous dress for some occasion? Let him buy it for you. You need a car? Sure, no problem at all.

He's paranoid to the point of not telling you when he's about to visit you. He just pops on your doorstep, looking dog-tired and ten years older than he really is. The only thing he leaves in your apartment is a toothbrush and perhaps one of his sweatshirts (if you ask nicely.)

He seems to have a sixth sense, and is very superstitious. He thinks telling you he loves you is a perfect way to attract malevolent attention and bad luck upon himself, so he refrains from being verbal about how he truly feels. You think he's indifferent, that you're just a shag for this man, but in truth he's dedicated and devoted to you and sees no one else but you, thinks about you at work so much so that he already calls you a distraction in his mind. It's dangerous, his feelings are already bringing him bad luck, and so the cycle of silence continues…

He's an incredible hacker but uses old, foolproof technology to avoid being traced. You can never call him, he always calls you. If he even calls.

He's not a drinker and doesn't like to see you drinking either. He absolutely, vehemently hates drugs.

He's embarrassed about it but he has read like 5 novels in his lifetime. All other books have been non-fiction, manuals and the like. He says he hasn't got the time to read.

He loves to see you in ultra feminine underwear. Lace, stay ups, suspenders: he loves to undress you like you're a delicately wrapped Christmas present just for him.

He loves to eat pussy. He would eat you all day, every day, for the rest of his life if he could. He especially loves it when you ride his face and he gets to feel how your thighs start to tremble next to his face.

He loves missionary. Loves loves loves to spread you open and spread his religion. You even joke about it: that his ass is so fit because he fucks you so much, and he only smiles to himself because it's true.

Ghost wants kids, but would he ever tell you that? No. He never tells you anything. You know nothing of this man, not even his favorite movie or his favorite color (which is not black, btw).

He has a terrible praise kink. He loves praising you, teasing you, making you flustered while he's inside you – but if you ever tell him he's big? He's good? That you like it when he smiles? His brain goes full error. He fucks up the rhythm of his thrusts and has to gather his breath. (Then he ups the stakes and praises you even more. Because he also has to win. Always.)

If you ever tell him you miss him, that you can't sleep without him… He disappears for weeks. Then he suddenly comes back, more touch starved and desperate than ever. Your words have gone under his skin whether he likes it or not. You can't even tell whether he's fucking you or making love to you, but you're left feeling like you just got hit by the most loving, gentle bus. There's no explanation, and it's futile to try and pry what's gone into him. But just before you fall asleep, he ghosts his fingers down your arm and whispers: "Pet… I missed you too."

[seecarrun]

“Why do girls always take forever to get ready?” Ash moaned, leaning pathetically against the wall next to their Pokemon Center room’s bathroom door, his toothbrush clutched uselessly in his hand.

Standing in front of the mirror, as she had been for the last twenty freaking minutes, Misty scoffed. “Because we actually care about how we look?” she answered snottily.

Ash smirked. “So why don’t you ever actually look good?” he asked, completely expecting the hair brush flying through the door at his head, so he was able to dodge it with a laugh.

“Pikapi,” Pikachu scolded, shaking his head.

“C’mon, she set herself up for that one.”

Misty blew Pikachu a kiss, then made eye contact with Ash again in the mirror. “Hey, hand me my brush.”

He rolled his eyes, but grabbed it off the floor and handed it over. “If you still needed it, why did you throw it?”

“Because the sink is attached to the wall,” she stated simply. He stuck out his tongue at her in the mirror.

Ash couldn’t say for sure what it was about hanging out with Misty that made him be such a punk, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it.

Maybe it was the relief of not having to be Mr. Responsible for a little bit? He had spent so many years after starting his journey with Misty and Brock kind of forced into something like a mentor role that he wasn’t sure he entirely deserved, so often traveling with younger or less experienced trainers that definitely wouldn’t appreciate him being a bit of a smartass at their expense.

Sure, he had his odd tiff with some of his companions every now and then; it wasn’t like he was always perfect and nice to everyone or anything.

But Misty was, well, Misty.

She wasn’t exactly always a sweet angel herself, and with the self confidence that allowed her to literally introduce herself to new people as a ‘world famous beauty’, it’s not like he had to worry about truly hurting her feelings with a little good-natured teasing.

Misty knew she was talented and pretty, and had no problem letting you know it. Usually loudly.

But also, messing with her was fun. He liked to get her all puffed up and annoyed, and could always count on her to give it right back.

He supposed it did kind of make sense when you thought about it. He always did enjoy a challenge.

“I’m ready!” she chirped, gliding out of the bathroom looking exactly the same as always, so he saw no real reason why she was in there for so long.

“About time,” he grumbled, breezing past her.

In the mirror, he saw her make a face at him and disappear behind the wall to find her bag.

Once he was sure she was out of sight, he smiled fondly and began to brush his teeth.

It was good to have her back.

[ohbo-ohno]

🗑️ Creep Johnny this, creep Johnny that. What I want is a creepy Simon. Like he just walks up to Johnny and is like "I think you buy a new couch" and soaps like wtf are you talking about? And when he's on leave he gets home and sure enough his couch has a broken spring.

Simon sends him the exact amount of money he needs to purchase the couch he was JUST looking at on his laptop- since when did simon get his personal address? Or his bank info????

Then Simon just starts. Saying the weirdest shit. Like "the freckles on your taint are cute." Like what??? Not even going to pretend to NOT be looking? And sometimes he'll comment about Johnny wearing less boxer briefs on missions (how does he know it's not like Johnny strips to his underwear and shows off to his l.t. so how does the man know?) Or how he doesn't like Johnny's shower curtains.

And then Simon sends him a selfie (mask on ofc) of himself half naked in Johnny's home bathroom while the man himself is still on base.

And then shit just gets downright strange. He'll come home from base, and find that half his clothes are stuffed into one side of his closet, the other half filled with shit too large for him to wear, smelling like his lieutenant. There's extra toothbrushes, trinkets lying around, food he doesn't usually like in his fridge.

And then the next day Simon walks in with his duffle bag filled with his stuff and acts like they've been living together forever??? His name is somehow also on their lease??

He tries to talk to his family about it but they're all like "Oh, Simon? That nice fellow who visited us while you were deployed? He mentioned being your boyfriend, he was such a nice fellow."

And Johnny just has to live with it. Because he suddenly got saddled with a giant buff boyfriend who he kinda had a crush on so is it really THAT bad?? In the grand scheme of things, Simon could have been A LOT worse, knowing that freak of nature.🗑️

ghost harassing and violating soap will ALWAYS be famous

there have GOT to be a million fics with this general plot and trashy i would LOVE to recommend them to you but unfortunately i am woefully naive to the ghoap fanfictions of ao3. someone send recs

i love ALL OF THIS & im going to add some of my own thoughts but i'm not like. changing your idea lol (btw i love when you said "then it gets strange" as if the first part wasnt strange lmao)

i looove the idea of everyone else on base being super uncomfortable around ghost but not helping johnny out at all with his very obvious obsession because they're just like "better you than me buddy". they're in a large meeting and ghost literally lifts johnny off of his own chair and sets him in his lap, tucks a hand up under his shirt and gropes his pec, and literally everyone is just like "doo doo doo... nothing happening over there..."

im also obsessed with the idea of ghost not even TRYING to act like he's not stalking soap. he's loud and proud about using johnny's toothbrush after him for just a TASTE of his boy. he's jacking off in soap's shampoo and will mention it in front of other people. ghost will look soap dead in the eyes and say "washed your laundry yet? don't. i want your boxers for tonight" and just WALK AWAY

alssososooooooooo ghost moving into soap's house without asking!??!?!? are you insane!?!??!?!!? just absolutely refuses to leave, doesn't understand why soap's so angry, refuses to acknowledge his discomfort. will kick johnny out of his own bed when he starts being too bad :/ starts changing things to his own preference, just scoffs and rolls his eyes when johnny complains

[cherry-writes-yanderes]

COD: MW2 Yandere Headcanons (Ghost, Soap & Price)

A/N: so down bad, y’all- (also i was inspired by @yeyinde​ , especially for the Price stuff bc hhh- anyway ily and your writing is phenomenal <3)

as always: like & reblog if you enjoy my work~

cw: gender neutral reader, spoiler free, drugging, stalking/night stalking, Ghost goes on a panty raid (but it’s just your toothbrush), jealousy, kidnapping, abuse of power, murder, blackmail, manipulation, noncon touching (non-sexual), Price’s part gets a lil steamy bc i am feral but that’s what we want amirite babes? ;3 (nothing nsfw tho so it’s okay <3)

Simon “Ghost” Riley

The Stalker

The yandere you never see coming. Ever.

Of course you never see him coming, he knows you too well to let you see him

He’s a hardcore watcher when it comes to obsession, choosing to protect you from afar

For now.

He’ll look up from whatever he’s doing to watch you from across the room, barely able to hear your voice but enough to see your form

The famous Ghost isn’t proud to admit it but... he has come into your room before...

While you were sleeping...

Did you know you mumble a bit? He finds it cute~

The touch-starved man will kneel at the edge of your bed, rubbing your lips with his calloused fingers almost as a subliminal plea for you to fall as deeply for him as he has for you

He’s taken things from your room before as well

Nothing too crazy, though! A shirt that he knew for sure you wouldn’t miss, a bracelet, your toothbrush

Anyways-

When you engage in a conversation with him, he is over the fucking moon istg

He acts all serious and stoic on the outside, but on the inside his heart is beating so fast that he feels like it’ll burst out of his chest like a wrecking ball

These interactions don’t happen often, but they do fan the flame immensely, to the point where he decides to take action

Indeed, the yandere you never see coming... until he gives you some tea

A gruff “drink” command tumbles off of his tongue

He’s staring you down as you bring the cup to your lips, innocently sipping away

He adores how much you trust him

Soon enough, you’re falling right into his arms

Right where you always belonged.

John “Soap” MacTavish

The Killer

I feel like Soap’s not one to fall easily for people, but when he saw you for the first time he just fucking melted

He’s kind and genuine to you, although still just a bit rough around the edges

Especially when others are around when you two are talking

You notice right off the bat how tense Soap can get when others speak to you, and you chalk it up to him just being a bit overprotective; with his line of work, that wasn’t surprising

You were indeed oblivious to the fact that he was working to protect you right under your nose; and he adored that you never found out until it was too late

I strongly believe that Soap is one of the only ones to turn to murder rather quickly, opting to protect you in more ways than just with his physical form being near

Keep in mind, people are the next target even with the wrong wrist movement; a side eye to your form, or even a stare too many

The people you talk to regularly start to dwindle down gradually

Until it’s just him that you turn your face to, which he is so, so happy about!

His favorite part is looking into your pretty eyes

When you caught him cleaning up a certain mess... Your eyes got so wide!

He thought it was so cute!!!~

Soap tried to approach you, but you kept questioning the blood on his face

“Why are you askin’? It doesn’t matter, that guy was bothering you!”

You started to cry and fight, but that was okay!

He can just wrestle you down in that chair over there with some duct tape, and you can take a breather while he finishes up over here! After that, he’ll take you home, don’t worry!

Blood is very hard to clean... but his namesake is for a reason, right?

John Price

The Manipulator

This man knows what he’s doing.

Which is obviously good for him, but absolutely not for you

It starts small at first

He calls you close to speak with him on trivial matters, ones that don’t mean much by the end of the day

This is mostly just to observe you, to watch what makes you tick and fidget

What makes your cheeks heat up...

Soon enough, those same things are playing against you

Within a week, he’s got you sitting on his desk, his warm hand gripping your thigh and his tongue deep down your throat when you’re supposed to be on duty somewhere else

You try to convince him that this is wrong; that you’re here to do your job, and this relationship was most likely against the rules

He’ll only chuckle lowly at your antics, knowing full well that you’ll always come back to him

He’ll brush your side during meetings with the group, just to see you get flustered in front of everyone

He finds you just so adorable, he can hardly stand it~

And when you decide to stop coming to see him, obviously he needed to take action

After a week of you doing your best to avoid Price, he calls you in and says it’s “urgent matters”

You rush into his office, thinking that it was a comrade’s fall or a family member on the phone for you

But no.

Price is sitting in his chair, heavy boots on the desk and a thick cigar in his hand

Your confused look is met with a deep, gravelly laugh and a short and sweet explanation

It seems that - since you decided not to listen to your superior’s orders - you were to be discharged immediately under the discretion of Price himself

Before you could even get a word in, the taller man pushes you into his desk and traps you physically as well as mentally

“What now, love? Hm...?” He asks softly, his lips brushing softly against your throat

You didn’t want to leave, this place and the people here felt like home!!

It didn’t take long for you to be begging Price for forgiveness

And, as a gracious Captain would, he grants you mercy...

Under his rules, of course~

[chunghasweetie]

𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐍 | P.JM 1

— pairing | femceo!oc x ceo!pjm

— summary | two rival ceos competing for years. famous for their rivalry and hatred for one another. always arguing. she hated him. he couldn’t stand her.

but why was he hard after every interaction?

— warnings | bad writing (i’m doing my best) slow burn (i’m annoying), secret relationships (oc’s bsf has the hots for jk), cruel humor (oc acts hard to get), fluff, cheating (jimin won’t give up on this girl), relationship abuse, abuse, light stalking (oc’s bsf is NOSY), alcohol, angst, lying, toxic relationships, toxic love concepts, aggression, irrational behavior, misogyny, derogatory comments (oc’s bf is a DICK),

— word count | 7.4k words

— song suggestions | confident — justin bieber

Park Jimin.

One of the greatest names in South Korea. One of the greatest names in the world actually. His face was on everything. Street signs, billboards, cars, even school lunch pails.

He was a prodigy. A genius. Although his parents were successful, he needed no help from them. He owned car dealerships, clothing brands, shoe stores, etc. Anything you could name, he owned 3 of it.

All at age 28.

No children, no spouse. All of his achievements done single-handedly.

How did he become so successful? We'll never know. He's a very a secretive man.

Although there is not much known about him, he is the definition of "the female gaze."

He is an incredibly handsome man. He trends daily for his sharp jawline, his beautifully carved lips, and his beautiful siren like eyes.

He could charm any man or woman with his looks alone. His voice was like a pied piper, seducing anyone who listened.

Park Jimin was a mystery.

༊—

Yoo Jangmi.

CEO of YooMi Beauty. The title coming from her surname and her first name.

YooMi Beauty was an incredibly  popular beauty brand ranging from makeup all the way to high toothbrushes.

YooMi Beauty had makeup, jewelry, women's clothes, men's clothes, heels, maternity wear, children's clothes, even kitchen wear.

Everyone was wearing YooMi. Custom designs from Ms. Jangmi herself. She was a self made entrepreneur who turned her small business into an empire.

She was an inspiration to many women. Being an independent woman and making a name for herself all on her own, many people looked up to her.

Unlike Park Jimin, Jangmi was very interactive with interviews and customers who supported her. She admired every bit of feedback she received and was very transparent.

It was no secret that Park Jimin was her rival, and with her coming out with a new car accessory line, she knew there would be talk.

He owned a lot of different branches similar to her, so the two were constantly competing against one another.

Tonight they were both invited to a gathering at a casino in Las Vegas hosted by one of his competitors, Yoo Kihyun.

Jangmi's brother.

Jimin wore a more business casual outfit. Since it was being hosted by Kihyun, he could care less how he really looked. No one there would peak his interest enough to really make him want to stand out.

"Nice to see you, Park. Champagne?" Kihyun offered.

"Don't mind if I do." He answered, watching the bartender pour them a drink. "Surprised you invited me. Especially after I made your sales plummet last spring." He smirked.

"Surprised you remembered." Kihyun chuckled lowly, taking a sip of his drink.

"How could I not? I'm making it a marker of my many successes." Jimin thanked the bartender, turning back to Kihyun.

"You enjoy your night, Park. Do contact me if you need anything else." Kihyun and Jimin waved their goodbyes as Kihyun went to greet other guests.

Jimin held his chin high as he drank alone. At gatherings like these, he didn't talk to many other business owners.

Not to his surprise, he was viewed as a very arrogant man. Which he was, in moderation.

He wasn't a total dick, at least he'd say so. But he definitely was a sassy man. He was a bittersweet person.

"Sitting alone like always." A low female voice was heard behind him. "Get me something with vodka and strawberries." She ordered to the bartender, taking a seat beside Jimin.

"Ms. Yoo." He turned to her. "How lovely is it to see you tonight. Alone." He mimicked her. "You order your drinks like a toddler."

Tonight she was wearing a lilac maxi dress, sparkles reflecting off the many games and neon lights around them. Her hair was long, jet black and parted to the side.

"At least I'm not drinking boring champagne. Don't you like to try new things?"

He shook his head. "Nope. You can never go wrong with champagne. You already know what to expect."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah. I can expect to be face deep hurling over the casino toilet."

"How ladylike." He fake smiled. "No wonder you're alone too."

"I actually chose to come alone, Mr. Park. You have no choice." She thanked the bartender as he slid her drink over to her. "Be a doll and pay for my drink?"

"As if." He scoffed. "Why should I do that?"

"Because I'll be the only woman you've bought a drink for since you've been able to purchase alcohol." She fake smiled back to him, taking a sip.

Friendly fire is what their relationship would be described as.

They could be civil with one another yes, but they had every reason to not be.

They were in constant competition. Who could sell more in a certain amount of time. Who could please their consumers more than the other.

She couldn't stand him. He couldn't stand her. Every little thing the other did, set them off.

What made it worse was they were neighbors.

Jangmi and her brother looked so alike. The evil smirk they shared ticked Jimin off.

One thing Jimin and Jangmi both agreed on, was their rivalry against Kihyun.

Kihyun and Jangmi were siblings, but he was also her competitor.

He was shady, a cheat. He used his looks to his advantage when it came to business. He lied to a lot of his consumers and he often made false promises to them.

Although there were a few instances where he was exposed for his doings, he easily paid off reporters for their silence.

He overshadowed brands that had actual good value. Honest brands. Such as YooMi and Park Enterprises.

No one with a high power dared to ever challenge Kihyun, knowing damn well he could crush them instantly. So many remain silent.

"Aren't you just peachy to be around." He fake swooned. "Go hang out with your brother. I miss the silence before you got here."

"You know damn well that's not going to happen. I'd rather sit and drink with you than talk to that idiot." She took another sip.

"Don't tell me you like me Ms. Yoo— Awe! I'm flattered." He put his hand on his heart. "You have a boyfriend, but I'd understand why you'd want me more."

"You fucking wish. You'd have to pay me to like someone like you." She shook her head. "Especially more than him."

"I don't know. That's how they all start out. Pretty soon you'll want to sleep with me when you become a married woman. That's how captivating I am." He winked at her.

Jangmi almost gagged. "Captivating or cocky? Either way I'm going to be sick."

"I think you mean lovesick." He corrected her.

"Alright enough of that." She downed her drink, placing the empty glass on the table. "Thanks for the drink. Goodnight Park." She waved before exiting the bar.

"Goodnight Ms. Yoo." He bid his goodbyes, watching her as she walked off. He looked down at his aching lower region once she was completely out of his sight. “Shit— Am I hard?”

༊—

"Finally." Jangmi threw herself on her couch.

"How was it? How was he?" Jangmi's best friend Yeri came out of the kitchen, a bowl of oatmeal in her hands.

Yeri and Jangmi had been best friends since the age of 8 years old. The two were almost like sisters. They did absolutely everything together and they knew everything about each other.

Yeri knew the code to Jangmi's penthouse, so she'd go in and out as she pleased if she didn't see her boyfriends car in the driveway. She only lived a few buildings down but according to her Jangmi's home felt "comforting"

"You ask me that every time. Just apply at his office or something." Jangmi replied, face down into the pillow.

"You know it's not that simple!" Yeri whined. "My dads money can only do so much for me." She pouted.

"Work for it." Jangmi suggested.

"I'd rather die. Hey! Do you think Kihyun might want to—"

"I'm going to stop you right there! My brother is off limits!" Jangmi shot up from her couch.

"Are you jet lagged or something?! I meant offer me a modeling gig! You didn't let me finish." Yeri rolled her eyes.

"Thank goodness. I almost died." Jangmi laid back on the couch. "I don't get why you even think he's cute. He's a cocky bastard."

"You don't see the vision Jangmi. Jimin may not have the best personality, but you've got to admit he's very handsome."

"You call him Jimin like you guys are close." Jangmi brought out her phone. "Look, I have to run to his office anyways for a pick up tomorrow. You can say you're one of my assistants and take my place."

"Are you serious?!" Yeri gasped.

She nodded.

Yeri set down the oatmeal and ran to her best friend. She gave her a huge hug, "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" She squeezed her.

"Don't make me regret this." Jangmi grumbled.

༊—

Lee Minhyuk, Jangmi's boyfriend of over a year.

The man was about 179cm and just a year younger than Jangmi herself. She didn't usually go for the younger ones but this one specifically caught her eye.

Their relationship was very public. Everyone knew about him.

He wouldn't shut up about her. Although he hasn't nearly as famous as she was, whenever he'd be interviewed or featured on television he'd always manage to bring her up.

Jangmi this. Jangmi that.

He was a romantic too. Surprise roses here and there, dates outside the office.

His world revolved around her, as she was what he gloated about the most.

The media adored him, waiting daily for the man to pop the question, "Will you marry me?"

He originally was one of her Kihyun's business partners, so they met through him.

She'd say it was love at first sight the way they instantly connected after some simple phrases back and fourth.

Their relationship seemed so perfect. Barely any fighting or bickering between the couple. They were on the same page about their futures and they could communicate well.

Their relationship was perfect. As in it used to be. Out of nowhere, Minhyuk turned away from her. Pretty early on too.

Fights between the two would break out often. He'd leave and disappear for days on end. Weeks even.

She couldn't pinpoint where exactly they went wrong. She was nothing but devoted to him and treated him with nothing but respect.

He was controlling. Didn't like her daily habits. Didn't like how she ate and how she dressed.

His boasting about her was usually about her physical appearance. It was appreciated but she just wished he'd bring up something that wasn't about her face or her body.

They could be just a bit more intimate, thought Jangmi. At least towards her. They had sex often but, it didn't go down in the way she'd like to.

Often when it would come to them 'getting it on' it would only end up benefiting Min-hyuk.

"I don't want to try anything new." Minhyuk would argue, leaving a frustrated Jangmi to finish herself off later when she was left alone.

Eventually she stopped fighting it, seeing that she wasn't going to win anyway after time and time again of her trying to explain.

Maybe it's just an obstacle they'd have to overcome in the future, all couples have something they need to work on.

For Min-hyuk, the main obstacle in their relationship was her not wanting to settle down.

She didn't want to be married just yet. The girl loved to party, loved to travel. She was a drinker and she loved to explore and feel free.

She loved looking pretty. Dressing up. One of the main reasons she started her business.

Daily she'd wear makeup and "girly" outfits. She was a very feminine woman who couldn't stand looking overly simple.

Here and there she'd like to expose skin. Nothing drastic but she loved to feel comfortable in her body. She went to the gym daily. She didn't work hard just to not show it off.

Her looks weren't for anyone's gaze. Just for her and her only.

Minhyuk wanted to domesticate her already. Make her the perfect housewife and give birth to their many children. Combine their companies.

He didn't like that she loved to party. He hated that all she wanted to do was try new things and travel.

Do not get him started on her outfits. How could such a woman show off so much?

He didn't understand any of it. He loved her but at some point shouldn't she stop?

"Don't you think you're getting a bit old to be wearing outfits like that?" He asked, leaning against the doorframe

Jangmi wore a simple floral pattern dress. It was long sleeved and flowy at the bottom.

She never wore flats but today she decided to. She dressed so plain today. For once she didn't dress for herself but she dressed for him today. Her outfit was the exact opposite of what she usually wore.

It was one of of the most modest outfits she owned.

"Considering I'm still in my twenties I don't think so at all." She laughed.

"Late twenties might I add." He folded his arms. "Shouldn't you be thinking about your future just a bit more?"

"Uh I think about my future every damn day. You forget I run an entire empire." She scoffed.

"I'm just trying to help you out Jangmi. Nows the age to start thinking just a bit more about the future of us. I want kids. A marriage." He held onto her waist.

"I don't understand why my outfit is stopping us from achieving that." Jangmi tilted her head.

"Just forget it." Minhyuk sighed, a sad expression settling on his face.

"Wait— I'll change." Jangmi exhaled.

She just wanted the best for the two. Minhyuk was all she knew, so she couldn't just give up on him.

Minhyuk's pout turned into a smile instantly. "Thanks Jangmi! I love you."

"I love you too." She smiled, heading back up the stairs.

༊—

"Breathe Yeri. Breathe." Yeri calmed herself down before entering the elevator of Park Enterprises.

She was really there in the building. After using Jangmi as an excuse to see Park Jimin up close and in person, she was finally able to do it.

The smoking hot man she had seen on so many billboards and TV screens she was finally going to see in person.

She was filthy rich and her dad could get her to meet anyone she wanted but for some reason, Jimin wasn't within reach.

He was a busy man who was always traveling. And unlike an idol, he couldn't just do meet and greets.

I guess you could say she was a bit of a fan girl.

The elevators made a "ding" noise as soon as she reached the top floor.

"Okay. You just put them on the desk and leave. Easy." She reminded herself as the elevator doors opened.

Before her plans could be fulfilled, she slammed right into someone.

"Ow!" She winced as she immediately dropped to the floor.

"Oh my goodness— Are you okay?!" The man immediately stooped down and helped her up from the ground.

"Y-Yeah." She struggled to get back on her feet.

"I'm so sorry!" He bowed to her before the two made eye contact.

Damn.

'Who is he?' Yeri thought.

Little did she know he was thinking that same thing.

The two simply stared at each other for a few seconds.

She felt as if she was in some kind of drama. When she looked at him it was like cherry blossoms and lovey dovey music played in the background.

Forget Jimin. She needed this one.

"Are you here to see Mr. Park?" He asked her as he pressed on the elevator button.

She nodded.

"He's not in his office at the moment but I can take those. You're from YooMi. Correct?" He asked her as he took the files from her hand.

She nodded once more.

Damnit, why can't you speak? Yeri thought to herself. No way she was this pathetic in front of him.

"I'm sorry if I've frightened you. I'm Mr. Park's secretary." He bowed to her, her bowing back. "And you are?"

"Ah— I'm Ms. Yoo's assistant."

"You must be new. I know all of Ms. Yoo's assistants." He adjusted his glasses.

"I'm still in training unfortunately. She's just having me run some errands." She explained before the elevator came to a stop.

"I wish you luck. I know she's a pretty tough woman. But this is my stop. Sorry again." He waved goodby before getting off the elevator.

"I need him." She mumbled to herself after waving goodbye to Mr. Park's assistant.

༊—

"Jangmi, please."

"For the last time. Hell no! What are you even on about?! You didn't want a job period now all of a sudden you want to work for me? You're out of your mind." Jangmi walked past the pleading girl.

"I'm so desperate here Jangmi. Can't you find it in your heart to—"

"No." She shook her head. "Not until you explain to me what the hell you're doing this for."

Yeri had spent the last few hours researching Jimin's secretary.

There were images and videos but there were no names. Nothing to work with at all.

She needed to see him again. He introduced himself as Jimin's secretary but didn't even give her his work name. Did he not want to tell her? Was he secretive? What kind of person wouldn't even say their own name?

She figured since Jangmi and Jimin hated each other, she had to know.

"What's his name? Jimin's secretary." Yeri asked.

"Ohhh. That's what this is for." Jangmi smirked. "Finally seen Secretary Sexy up close."

"Don't ever call him that again." Yeri gagged. "That was hard to even hear."

"Whatever. It could be worse, I could like Mr. Park's secretary."

"You don't get it! Jangmi you just had to be there. He was so tall. His shoulders— Oh don't get me started. And he's polite! When we locked eyes it's like..." She trailed off. "Love at first sight!"

Jangmi simply stared at the girl for a moment. Then burst out laughing. "Whew Yeri!" She threw herself on the couch. "You can not be serious!"

"It's not funny!" Yeri began to throw a fit, stomping her feet. "It's like the whole world literally stopped for us! Music started playing and the colors in the elevator became so vibrant like in the movies!"

"The elevator is literally silver and brown!" Jangmi laughed. "Girl he's cute but not that cute!"

"You're childish." She mumbled. "You're just jealous because you're in a generic relationship. You're not in a drama like me okay!"

"And what am I supposed to be in if you're a drama?"

"Those really boring slow silent historical films that only old people watch!" Yeri immaturely pointed at her.

"Well that was just rude. But I guess that's what love at first sight does to you." Jangmi giggled, causing Yeri to huff. "Okay okay that was the last one!"

"Just tell me his name. Oh my gosh- Do you have his number?!" She jumped on the couch.

"How close do you think I am to Mr. Park?!" She exclaimed.

"I have an idea!" Yeri shot up onto her feet.

"Let's hear it." She sighed.

"Buy him."

Jangmi rose an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

Yeri smirked. "There must be a reason Park Enterprises runs so well. The secretary. We buy the secretary we buy all of his secrets. Poor guy was overworked. I don't even think he has his own office. Let's march down there and let's buy his secretary!"

"That's..." Jangmi exhaled. "The stupidest idea I've ever heard of. And you just talked about love at first sight. You're an actual idiot."

Yeri whined. "Come on! It's a good idea. Don't you want to know his secrets?"

"As much as I do not like Mr. Park, you're not thinking about this logically. His secretary is bound by his contact. Equally meaning he can not say a damn thing about the Park name. We have no idea what kind of contract he even signed." She took her hair out of her ponytail.

"And to be honest. I don't care about that secretary enough to hire him. I'm not wasting my precious time on some crush that may be loyal to his company." Jangmi shook her head.

"So that's it? Me and him are through?" Yeri dramatically stuffed her face in the pillow. "I thought money could fix everything!"

"You should know very well by now it does not. At all." Jangmi rolled her eyes. Hearing how distraught her best friend was, she caved in.

"His name is Jeon Jungkook. Do you want to go drink and get BBQ?" She asked her.

༊—

"She's perfect isn't she? Beautiful face and a beautiful body. What more could a man want?" Minhyuk boasted in front of the press, arm wrapped around Jangmi's waist.

Tonight they were attending a fashion show in Seoul. The main models were wearing various designs by YooMi and Jangmi couldn't be more proud.

She hand picked the models herself years ago and now with their experience, they'll be walking their first runway.

YooMi wasn't the only brand making an appearance that night.

Park Jimin was only a few feet beside them, waving to the press.

Surprisingly he wasn't alone, but not in the way you'd think.

Secretary Jeon was beside him, answering some questions for Jimin.

It was a bit surprising considering he never really spoke up, so they got a bit more attention than usual.

She paid no attention to them, focusing on the interview in front of her.

"I'm sure he loves my persona too." Jangmi added on, laughing.

Once the interview was wrapped up, Jangmi and Minhyuk made their way to their seats after going through security.

Jangmi happily checked out the area, the room being set up perfectly as she envisioned it.

"This is going to be so good!" The girl rubbed her hands together in excitement.

"Yeah." Minhyuk mumbled, feeling unsteady.

Truth be told the guy didn't want to be here at all. If it was up to him he'd be at home with a cold beer and a porn website.

The show started once everyone took their seats, and Jangmi didn't take her eyes off the runway.

༊—

"Oh my gosh!" Jangmi clapped loudly. "Beautiful! That was so amazing! My girls and boys did so amazing! I'm so proud."

"Yup." Minhyuk looked around. "Do you think the open bar is still available?"

"What's your problem?" She questioned him.

He'd been aching to go since the interview. What could've possibly made him this uneasy?

"You can tell me Minhyuk."

"Earlier. Why did you have to say that?" Minhyuk turned to her.

She looked at him. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm sure he loves my persona too" He mimicked her. "Don't you think that kind of makes me sound like a dick? You should've been more considerate."

"Well I mean all you've done is talk about my looks all night. It was just a harmless joke so relax." She fanned herself.

"I don't need your shit right before a show." He crossed his arms, anger slightly rising.

"You act like it's your brand who's modeling. We came here for me." She scoffed.

"Whatever. It was a shit show anyway. The clothing you submitted wasn't good for shit." He muttered out, clearly ticked off.

"Are you fucking serious? You're acting like a fucking child. If you want to be a dick right now then just fucking go. I have a ride home anyway." She rose her voice.

"Fine. Didn't want to be here anyway." He stood up from his seat and stomped off childishly.

Jangmi breathed out, fanning herself some more.

She needed to calm her nerves before anxiety rose or this wasn't going to end well.

"What's wrong with Captain Hothead?"

"Not now Park. I can not deal with you right now." Jimin eyed her. Analyzing her body language and emotional state.

He didn't see the entire situation go down, but he seen enough to where he could make a good assumption.

She looked stressed from their previous outburst at her boyfriend. Uneasy.

But damn did she look good.

Jangmi had on a steel blue suit with a corset top underneath, revealing some of her cleavage and her stomach piercing which matched the rest of the jewelry she had.

She paired the outfit with diamond jewelry and 4 inch platform heels.

Jimin couldn't help himself but to take a good look at her. Sure she was his rival. But it couldn't hurt to just take a peek.

"You clean up nice." He eyed her once more. "And so did your models. Not bad Ms. Yoo."

"Thank you Mr. Park." She stood up from her chair. "Did you come here to make fun of me because I caused a scene?"

"It's not a scene if no one cares." He smiled. "The world doesn't revolve around you Yoo."

"Whatever." Jangmi was about to push past him but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"Let me take you home." He said suddenly, making her look up at him.

Oddly, Jimin couldn't help himself but sympathize for her. He knew well she didn't like to look vulnerable in front of him, but he wanted to stand before her with open arms.

"What?"

"You said you had a ride. I know for a fact he took the car you both came in. Let me drive you home, neighbor." He reached his hand out to her.

Honestly, she didn't have any other choice. She didn't like the guy but she knew for sure Yeri would be knocked out sleep and there's no one she could depend on to take her home.

Jimin lived right next door, so he's all she got. But why was he being so friendly to her?

"Alright."

༊—

Silent.

It was silent in the car. Who knew they'd be so awkward around each other.

There was small talk between the two in the beginning but it ended up dying down a lot sooner than they both anticipated.

She already thanked him many times for his offer, so not much could be said about that. Jimin didn't mind hearing the praise but she definitely could've said much more.

"You don't seem to shut up any other time. Why the silence now?"

She looked up from playing with her fingers. "I'd figure I'd be nice to you considering I would be stuck at the show without you."

"Always knew you'd need me one day." He chuckled.

"Arrogant."

"What was that?"

"You're arrogant." She repeated.

"You don't like that? All the ladies do."

She scoffed. "I'm not apart of of all the ladies then. And I have a boyfriend so you don't phase me."

"Some boyfriend you have. He's a bit of a boy don't you think? Kind of toddler-like." He raised his eyebrows as he pulled into the gated community they lived in.

"You don't know him. He just had a bad night that's all. It was my fault." She shifted in her seat. "It doesn't matter anyway it's none of your concern."

He chuckled as he pulled into his driveway, turning off the car. "Yeah you're right."

She unbuckled herself and picked up her purse from the floor of the car. "Anyway, thank you Mr. Park for taking me home."

"Anytime." He unbuckled himself.

The two waved their goodbyes and Jimin watched her enter her home safely.

He locked his car and entered in the code to his home before entering.

"It is my concern Ms. Yoo."

༊—

"I'm coming!" Jangmi raced down the staircase, making her way to the front door.

The girl had her pajamas on paired with her froggy slippers. She finished her hair and makeup already for the day 'just because' since she'd be staying home.

Yeri was asleep upstairs, and Jangmi knew damn well Minhyuk wouldn't talk to her first.

So who'd be ringing her doorbell so early in the morning?

Jangmi opened her front door, seeing the very last person she thought would be ringing her doorbell.

"Hey neighbor." The charming man leaned against the doorframe, one ankle crossed over the other.

"Uh hey." Jangmi stared at him, taken back. "Didn't think I'd see you this morning."

One thing about Jangmi, she always avoided eye contact with Jimin.

For him being dressed so casually, he didn't look bad at all.

Why am I checking him out? Shit. Jangmi wondered to herself.

Something about those siren eyes always threw her off. They made her feel distracted.

Was she seriously checking out the guy she couldn't stand in the least? When she had a boyfriend at that?

"I just wanted to check up on you after yesterday." He parted his lips, licking them.

"Like I said, it's none of your concern." She snapped out of his trance. "Why does it matter?"

Why was he still on about it?

"You're right. Can't help but stay curious I guess." He chuckled before his face turned serious. "Eat at my place for breakfast, Ms. Yoo."

Jangmi practically choked on air. "What? Don't you think that's kind of inappropriate?"

"I don't think it is at all. Two CEOs just grabbing a bite to eat." Jimin stuck his hands in his pockets. "Boyfriend won't let you out or what?"

Jangmi huffed. She'd be damned to have anyone think Minhyuk had some sort of power that determined what she'd be doing with her free time.

She was starving, and she knew well Yeri would not be awake in time for the local breakfast diner to be open by the time she woke up.

"Fine, let's go eat. Give me time to get ready."

"You look fine now. We're both in our pajamas and it's not like we're going out somewhere nice. Just my dining room." He smiled.

"Okay." She stepped out of her doorway, walking beside Jimin as they walked over to his home.

[underhousearrestblog]

Self-Sabotage | Neymar Jr.

(summary) when things get tough with your boyfriend, you do the only thing you know – run, and Neymar is not having it

(warnings) toxic-a$$ behavior... from you, luv... history of emotional abuse and neglect (not between the main couple), insecurities about relationship

(pairings) Neymar Jr x reader

(genre) angst, fluff

(reminder) Y/N – your name

(word count) 3.6k

(also) didn’t proof-read but I’m pretty sure I used the term ‘girlfriend’ and she/ her pronouns somewhere there...

HAPPY READING!

You stared at the article in front of you. After the initial shock of seeing the headline and the attached photo, now all you felt was void. Staring numbly at the gossip page, you felt tears rush to your eyes.

Famous Brazilian soccer star Neymar Jr.’s girlfriend cheating?

The attached photos showed you with a friend of yours hugging in quite an intimate manner in front of a hotel. There were already a few hundred comments on the article – some of them ripping you to shreds, some feeling sorry for the soccer star, some hoping it’s not what it looks like.

You had stopped reading comments a long time ago, not really caring for other people’s opinions. Still, it hurt how many people were hoping for your relationship to end.

None of the pictures showed any kisses or otherwise compromising actions but it didn’t take much for your boyfriend’s fans to take something half-baked and run with it. From the vague article and pictures, it could be a date you’re on and it might as well be just running into someone on the way out.

Two pings went off, indicating two new text messages. First was from the friend who informed you about the article.

I’m so sorry, luv.

You wanted to both cry and laugh.

The second was from Neymar. All it said was:

On my way home.

Whenever he texted you that, it usually took him about twenty minutes to get home. You had twenty minutes to get away.

Your thought process might be stupid. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t cheat. You shouldn’t run. However, your past experiences showed that people, when having even a gram of doubt, could become aggressive. Blame you for things you didn’t do. Say really ugly things. Of course, you wouldn’t describe Neymar with those behaviors but did you really know him? Had only dated for six months... He had probably just seen his partner on the front page of a gossip magazine for alleged cheating... Were you really sure he would believe you?

Once the logical part of your brain kicked in, there was no turning it off. The scepticism and anxiety, your usual companions, were creating scenarios in your head, despite you trying to hope for the better.

He’ll probably will ask me to leave – that was the best case scenario, you thought, stuffing some of the stuff you kept at his place into a bag, I should probably let him cool off anyway before I suggest talking.

You had seen situations like these far too many times – some of your friends blowing up in suspicion that their spouses had cheated, your parents frequently accusing each other, reading horrible news headlines of people getting violent, thinking their partner had cheated.

You knew that running away just added to the possibility of you coming off as guilty – that will be something you’ll have to be okay with. Did you think Neymar would become violent? Not really. However, him looking at you with suspicion and accusation would hurt just as much.

Most of your shit had to stay at the house, you would have to come collect it later. If your boyfriend hadn’t thrown it out himself already. So you packed only the essentials or things that would be hard to replace, in case Neymar actually threw them out. Some clothes, electronics, toothbrush, makeup, vallet and keys.

Keys...

Should you leave his key behind? In that case you should probably write a note or something. But what could you say? I saw an article lying about me cheating, so I went to clear my head, here’s the key, I will be back for the rest of my shit...

Probably should keep it for now... Could use it to come by for your stuff unnoticed.

Once everything necessary was packed, you went to leave and - ever the unlucky timing – the moment you opened the front door from inside, you ran right into Neymar. His fingers were picking out the right key to open the door and, while his gaze was casted down, you had just the right time either consciously or on accident to drop your bag behind the door.

Once he lifted his eyes, they quite literally lit up and he grinned, as he took you in. Disheveled hair, a wild look in your eyes and out of breath – to him you looked like a wet dream, at the same time you tried to steady your breathing enough to not literally pant.

- Hey, sweetheart, - you made no move to move aside. – I texted. Practice ended sooner than expected.

When you still made no move to let him in, he looked you over in more careful fashion, looking for something that’s wrong. You were in a hurry to leave, so, of course, hadn’t thought of the possibility that you could run into your boyfriend.

I shouldn’t have wasted time packing, you mentally berated yourself, but he clearly hasn’t seen the article yet, so what’s the harm of talking for a few minutes?

You forced a smile that, hopefully but unlikely, looked genuine. While moving aside to let Neymar in, you opened the front door with more force than necessary intentionally, sending the bag under the small table by the front door.

While he took the cap and boots off, you closed the door and leaned against it. He fidgeted with shoelaces and you fidgeted with excuses. He talked about something one of his teammates had announced at the practice, but you were only half-listening. Before he went into the kitchen, Neymar turned to you and with an amused smile said:

- Are you coming or leaving?

- I, - you stammered out, - I was actually... I wanted to go to the store.

Every word out of your mouth felt like lead, like a lie. You tried to focus on his eyebrows so you didn’t have to look him into eyes while lying.

- We need milk, - you tried to sound chill, - milk and some other stuff.

You hoped to every god out there that you sounded less panicked to Neymar than you did in your own ears.

Apparently, you did a better job than you thought ‘cause after a small moment of him just staring at you like he’s seen you for the first time, he shrugged and carelessly threw out:

- I’ll take a shower and we can go, - and turned to go into the kitchen. – We’ll take my car. Gimme fifteen minutes.

You blew out a breath you subconsciously had started to hold. He’s going to take a shower. Yeah. It was fine. You’ll sneak out while he’s in the shower. And you’ll leave him a note. He deserved that much.

You carefully walked into the room your boyfriend was and watched him take a bottle of water from the fridge. Were you the only one who felt electricity all around this room? You could’ve bet there was static in the kitchen. But Neymar seemed oblivious.

Watching him made you feel bittersweet nostalgia-kind of feeling. Was this the last time you would see him? Last time you see him loving you? Liking you? There’s no way he would like you after he reads that article. And there was no way he would believe you after he does. You were sure of it.

- Is everything alright, love? – you boyfrend asked, after you hadn’t blinked for a full minute. – Are you sick?

You wanted to laugh. Or cry. Mostly cry.

Instead, your lips stretched into a genuine smile. Your eyes – traitors – watered against all your strength. Something between crying and laughing bubbled out of you, as you took few short steps towards Neymar and hugged him tightly. He exhaled out of surprise but didn’t even take a second before he hugged you with the arm that wasn’t holding the bottle.

His eyebrows furrowed, as he disregarded you with worry. You had never been an overly clingy or affectionate person and, against his own wishes, he had let you take all the space you needed.

After a half of minute of comfortably silent hugging and him rubbing your back, you stepped back.

- Now you’re worrying me, princess, - he chuckled, as he released you. – Did someone die?

Just our relationship.

Now it was your turn to chuckle.

- You have something against my hugs?, - you tried and failed to joke, quickly turning around, so he can’t read your eyes. – I thought you wanted more PDA...

You heard him laugh, as he put the bottle back into the fridge.

- Well, don’t stop on my account, sweetheart. Just let me take a shower so we both aren’t sweaty, and go nuts on hugging me...

You gulped down your tears and stepped into the hall. Just few more minutes. Just few more and you’re free.

Free.

What a joke.

Free to not see hurt in his eyes, as he reads about the media accusing you.

Few minutes was too much time...

- Hey, - you turned back and ran into Neymar yet again, as he was exiting the kitchen. – How about I go alone, huh? It’s just a short trip to the store. You should relax.

Something similar to amusement danced in his eyes, as he put his hands on your upper arms to steady you.

- Are you trying to get rid of me?

You opened your mouth to fix the mistake.

- Honestly, I’m hurt, - he put his left hand over his heart, faining offense. – I thought that being in a relationship would mean fun trips to get milk at 3 in the afternoon...

Him pretending to get hurt with such a serious expression on his face twisted the knife lodged in your already bleeding heart. You swallowed hard and broke the eye contact.

He took your face in his palms and turned it back against him.

- I don’t know what’s going on with you today but we’ll fix it, okay? – he sounded so sure and you wanted to throw those words back in his face. – Just ten minutes, okay?

You didn’t want to lie more so you just nodded and stepped back. He looked at you for a moment and turned towards the guest bedroom.

- Aren’t you going to go up to our room? – you questioned.

- Nah, the water pressure’s better here, - he said, entering the room.

That could cause some bumps in the road. Your room was upstairs, and him taking the shower upstairs would give you enough time to open the garage. In Neymar’s fancy house, the garage could be only opened from inside, from the basement. Apparently, to minimize the possibility of robberies. The garage door opening can be heard on the first floor.

Though he was taking a shower so... There could be possiblity he wouldn’t be able to hear it.

His car was still out front and he had said you were taking his car. On the other hand, even if he would hear the garage door open, you could just lie, again, and say you wanted to take yours.

The moment you heard the water start, you took your bag from the hall, keys and threw open the basement door. Once you had unlocked your car, you put the bag inside and went to open the garage door.

Piece of shit high-security system, you swore, as you took your phone to look up the code.

Neymar had tried to teach you the method of automatically opening the garage from an app on your phone but you never bothered and had to go down to the basement every time to open the door manually. It took you about a minute to put in the key code and unlock the door.

Once you did, you went to pull the door up by the lever, just to do exactly that and, while your eyes were adjusting to the natural light, to once again run into someone’s chest. Someone who stood right outside the garage door, was towering over you and smelled exactly like your boyfriend.

- Shit, - you muttered, as you took him in.

The same hoodie, the same sweatpants, the same – very dry and sweaty – hair.

- What the-

- fuck? – there was no sign of amusement in Neymar’s eyes.

Or suspicion. Or anger, for that matter. What there was – tons of – was disappointment, and somehow that was worse.

- I think we should take my car, - you tried to lie your way out one last time.

He inhaled and very slowly, very patiently exhaled, as if trying to gather all the patience in the world.

You calmly took a few steps back but the backs of your legs touched the front of the car. For every step you took back, Neymar took one forward and ended up crowding you against your car.

He looked at you with immense disappointment and hurt. Closing his eyes for a short period of time, he breathed in one more time and opened them again. This time, there was only anger.

- So you weren’t going to leave me, right? You were just going to drive the car out front and wait for me, weren’t you, Y/N? – he challenged you, his fingers combing through the hair on your scalp before he roughly pulled them to make you look up at him.

You physically couldn’t open your mouth to make another lie. No more.

- Your things missing from the hall was just me being tired and seeing stuff, right? The bag you kicked under the table was for shopping, no doubt. And you, - the intense look in his eyes, as he pushed you back a bit more so you’d have to sit down on the hood of the car, was terrifying, - you hugging me as if one of us was going to die tomorrow, that was my imagination too, wasn’t it?

Once you gathered enough courage to open your mouth, you threw out the most wrong words you could:

- I was gonna leave a note.

Against his better judgement, Neymar laughed. A humorless, dry laugh but still. He rested his forehead against yours, as he slowly drew circles on your scalp with his fingers.

- You were gonna, - he laughed some more, as if the thought alone appeared ridiculous to him, - you were gonna leave me a note? Pray tell – what could you possibly write to justify all this?

You flinched.

So he knew... He knew about the cheating rumors. And he asked for justification. So that meant he believed them? The paparazzi. The media.

- I would’ve apologized for leaving without notice, - you said in a small voice, pulling his hands away from your body. – But I didn’t want for you to break up with me in person.

Neymar’s eyes danced all around your face, searching for something with solid focus.

- It’s easier that way.

The short confusion was overpowered by anger and despair once again.

- Easier for who? – he took a step back and brushed through his hair with fingers. – For you? You didn’t want to break up with me in person, like an adult, so you decided to what? It would be less of a bother to just leave?

You won’t cry, you won’t cry, you repeated in your head, trying to keep up a stable demeanor.

- Do you think it’s easy for me? On top of everything else, you and your entire fanbase are thinking I cheated when I didn’t! – you raised your voice and it, of course, immediately cracked. – I go see one friend and I’m the bad guy! You think that is easy for me?

Neymar blinked. He looked you over once more with wide eyes before slowly stalking towards you.

- You were leaving... – he started, lifted his eyes up, inhaled and turned back to you. – Why do you think you were leaving?

You snorted and stood up from the hood. What did he want – for you to admit that you did cheat when you didn’t?

- I’m so fucking done, - you muttered and turned to get to the driver’s seat.

Next thing you knew – an arm around your waist lifted your feet from the ground and you were put back on the car’s hood. You huffed, now angry and irritated, and started to get down again, before two arms caged you in.

You had no choice but to look into Neymar’s eyes, as he leaned over you to the point where you had fallen on your back if you hadn’t put your hands on the car to support yourself.

- You lift your ass up one more time and I swear to god, I’ll bring down those cuffs we use in the bedroom, cuff both of us together and you’ll have no choice but to talk to me, - he said, completely serious.

That’s a bluff.

- You know better than anyone that I only allow those to stay on, - challenge in your eyes turned both of you on, - those are too loose for me. I could always take them off with no key.

You could. That part was true. The false entrapment was both a turn-on and a relief for you.

The lack of surprise in Neymar’s eyes said everything you needed to know.

He always knew.

Of course.

- You don’t want to play with me right now, - he said in a husky voice. – I’m frustrated enough I will tie both of us together with a shoe lace if I have to.

The stare-off lasted for just a few seconds that felt longer than they were. You broke the eye contact first and blew out an exhausted breath. Then you looked up at him, defeated and calm.

- I didn’t cheat.

His eyebrows shot up. He looked so surprised that, for a second, you questioned whether he had even seen the article.

- Cheat? What a-

- Someone took a photo of me and Eddie, and they released an article about me possibly cheating, - you explained. – But I need you to know now and always – I didn’t cheat.

He looked at you as if you had just punched him in the face out of nowhere.

As if you had grown another head.

As if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

This was it, right? What more was there for you to say?

- I can show you the article, - you offered, quietly.

- I saw the article, - he stood frozen still. – Two days ago.

Both of you stood still for a moment. Like bewildered wax figures. Not saying a word. Not even breathing.

- Did you not? – Neymar almost whispered. – Did you not see it?

You shook your head, regained your voice and added:

- Only about thirty minutes ago.

- So when you said you didn’t want for me to break up with you, - he rubbed his temples, trying to fit everything together. – You thought I wanted to break with you over... – he waited for you to finish.

- Over me cheating...

- Over your cheating rumors?

You nodded.

Wait-

If he didn’t know why you were actually leaving-

- Why did you think I was leaving? – you asked.

He looked down before looking back at you, fidgeting his fingers at the same time.

- I thought you were breaking up, - he explained. – with me.

You laughed. Genuinely. All this crazy day, and this was the funniest thing you’ve heard thus far. Hearing you laugh, even for a stupid reason like that, made Neymar smile.

All the emotions you suppressed today made you burst out in laughter. Your boyfriend thought you would want to break up with him!

- What was I supposed to be thinking? – he started to explain, frustrated but with the same kind, usual, familiar amusement in his eyes. – I see a gossip article about my girlfriend and one of her friends. I assume she’s seen it too. And everything’s alright for two days straight so I don’t think about it. Then I come back home, she’s packed everything up, hugs me as if I’m dying and is almost crying on the spot, - he smiled down at you. – What am I supposed to be thinking?

- That she has her reasons? – you hug him for real this time. – And, hopefully, that she would never cheat, - you add, burrowed in his hoodie.

He pulls back and takes your face into his hands to make you look up.

- That’s why I didn’t bring the stupid article up, sweetheart, - he says. – No point in talking about it if I never, not for a second, entertained the thought.

He hugged you back and inhaled the smell of your shampoo in your hair, calming and comforting.

- I will, however, be getting tighter handcuffs, - he kisses the top of your head. – And I wasn’t joking about cuffing both of us together if you ever refuse to talk shit out, princess. I don’t know what house you grew up in but in this one we don’t run away.