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lovelytsunoda · 1 year ago

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i saw mommy kissing santa claus // alex albon

summary: alex has to keep up the illusion that santa claus is real, and every year gets more extreme than the last. he's got footprints to put on the living room floor and cookies to eat and stocking to fill . . . and at this rate, he's going to wake up the whole house.

pairing: alex albon x wife! reader

warnings: set in the future, so alex is about 30, children ( their names are gabriel and isabella ), gabriel sees his mommy kissing santa claus (who's really just alex in a festive hat), honestly it's just fluff guys (aside from one joke about having george shove alex off a cliff if she left him to go out with santa claus)

it was the night before christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even alex albon's five cats. his wife was asleep in their bed upstairs, and the kids were down for the count, wrapped in layers of blankets as alexander tiptoes down to the living room, where the christmas tree was set up in the bay window.

he turned on the tree lights, slipping a santa hat over his dark heair and opening the walk-in closet to find the large canvas bag that he and his wife had filled with christmas presents.

above the fireplace hung four stockings. stockings that his wife had painstakingly bedazzeld for each member of the family: alex, y/n, gabriel and isabella.

he rubbed his palms together, looking at the pilsbury cookies on the coffee table.

he had some work to do.

meanwhile, y/n albon was stirring in bed, panic setting in as she groggily opened her eyes, finding her husband's side of the bed empty.

"alex?" she mumbled, slowly sitting up. a zit on her back had popped during the night, a small spattering of blood hardening on the back of her cotton nightdress.

she heard a crash coming from the basement, and she sprung out of the bed, her mama bear instincts kicking in and telling her to go and check on the kids.

first she checked on isabella, her youngest. she three-year-old had just migrated form crib to toddler bed, the small piece of ikea furniture made from stunning white wrought iron. the little girl was peacefully asleep, nestled under her snoopy blanket with a build a bear in her arms, three large stuffed animals watching over her from the foot of the bed.

she backed out of the room, closing the door before she moved further down the hall, past the sim room, to the white door decorated in glow-in-the-dark stars. gabriel was curled up in his twin bed, his head barely poking out from over his Spider-Man duvet, a stuffed reindeer clutches in his arms. a karting trophy sat on his dresser, next to a picture of him and his dad when he won his first race.

satisfied that both her kids were still soundly asleep, she set out to find her husband.

“alex?” she called out, pulling her bathrobe tight around her body as she made her way to the main floor. “alexander, what the hell are you doing?”

alex knelt in front of the couch, shaking flour over a card stock cutout of a boot print. “baby? what are you doing awake?”

“honey, you knocked the lamp over.” she chuckled, picking the ikea lamp up off the floor and setting back in the side table. “what are you doing?”

“setting the scene for Santa’s visit, obviously.” Alex chirped, yanking away the card stock. “see, snowy footprints!”

y/n laughed, fingertips against her temple. “you know that once isabella sees those presents she’s going to run right through all of the work you just put in to those footprints.”

“it’s all about the fun, love” one of the cats mewled, nuzzling against alex’s thigh as he leaned towards the coffee table, holding up the square plate. “cookie?”

"darling, it's four in the morning." she laughed, picking up a reindeer cookie from the plate. "you know that you'll eventually have to tell the kids that santa claus isn't real, right?"

"or i could let them figure it out for themselves." alex reasoned, getting to his feet and pulling his wife close. "isabella is smart, she'll figure it out before her brother does. she takes after you."

"and gabriel takes after his father. some days, it's like having three children in this house."

"hey!" alex feigned hurt. "give me a hand putting the presents under the tree? i've got springsteen."

she laughed, kissing him softly. "if you put the springsteen on, you're going to wake the kids."

"not if we use my airpods." he winked, tossing her the bluetooth case.

she let the airpods connect, putting one in her right ear before passing the case back to alexander. bruce springsteen's 'merry christmas baby' began to play as they started to empty out the canvas sack, stacking the beautifully wrapped presents underneath the white christmas tree. alex was dancing, shuffling around on the hardwood in his socks and messing up a few of the flour footprints, causing his wife to laugh.

"alex, you're going to wake the kids." she reminded, giggling as she reached for his hands, allowing him to pull her in for a dance.

she rested her head against his chest, allowing her husband to sway side to side with her, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

"i'm so glad i met you. i love you, and i love our kids, and i love the life that i have created with you." alex whispered, still holding her close.

"i love you too." she hummed, leaning up to kiss him softly.

"mommy!"

alex and y/n startled, jumping and slipping apart, turning to face the stairs. gabriel stood in the middle of the staircase, white as a sheet as he clutched his stuffed reindeer.

"gabriel, honey, what are you doing awake?" y/n cooed, concerned as she walked over to her son.

"mommy, why were you kissing santa claus?"

she shot a glance at alex before taking her son's hand, walking up the stairs with gabriel as she tried to calm him down.

"sweetie, that wasn't santa claus. that was just your dad, he was tidying the living room for when santa comes to visit. we don't want santa claus tripping on any cat toys, do we?"

after she tucked gabriel back into bed, with his dinosaur nightlight switched on, she left the door open slightly, holding her robe tightly around her body as she watched him fall asleep through the crack in the door.

"who taught him that santa claus was a thirty year old thai man?" alex scoffed. "has he learned nothing from his aunties? do i look like i could eat eight billion plates of cookies in one night?"

y/n laughed, allowing her husband to hug her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. "didn't your brother try and teach him that santa claus was an alien?"

"yeah, he did, didn't he." alex chuckled. "what did you tell him?"

"that you were just moving gucci's cat toys out of the way so that santa wouldn't trip. he thought i was cheating on you with saint nick."

"baby, if you left me for an aging, overweight white man and went to go live in the arctic and bake cookies all day, i'd have george shove me off a cliff."

she tilted her head up to face alex, thumb rubbing circles over his knuckles. "we're doing a damn good job with these kids, aren't we?"

"yeah babe, we are. but soon they'll grow up, and then we'll be grandparents-"

"stop talking. you're going to make me feel old!"

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @lorarri @cartierre @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @oconso @thatsdemko @twinkodium

#alex albon x reader #alex albon x you #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #alex albon x y/n #the christmas collection 2023 #mini fic

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muddy-water-1997 · 6 months ago

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𝖣𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝖠𝖼𝗍𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖲𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗒 𝖪𝗂𝖽𝗌

"𝖨𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌; 𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗍." - 𝖯𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖡𝗎𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗍𝗍.

𝖫𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖨 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖲𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗒 𝖪𝗂𝖽𝗌

𝖳𝖶: 𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗒 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾

Bangchan: Building flatpack furniture

"I’m pretty sure that’s not where that goes.” You tilt your head toward Chris, confusion etched on your face as he tries to fit a square piece of wood into a circular hole.

“Tell that to Ikea!” he scoffs, trying a few more times before giving up and looking at the instructions.

“Babe,” you say with a sing-song tone, reaching over the pile of wood to take the instructions. “They’re upside down.” You laugh as you flip the paper and hand it back to him.

“Oh! Well, that makes a lot more sense.” Chris chuckles, searching for the correct piece. “So the circle goes into the circle…” he mumbles, finally matching the two pieces. You laugh, returning to your part of the flatpack puzzle.

“Why don’t we just do this later, babe? We could be doing something much more exciting right now,” Chris suggests with a mischievous grin.

“Christopher. No. You’re not distracting me from building furniture with sex again!” you say, firmly putting your foot down.

“Well, at least I know how to make sure we finish that job…” he replies with a wink.

Lee Know: Dancing in the kitchen when cooking

Sure, it was cliché, but nothing could stop you from dancing around the kitchen while cooking breakfast for the man you loved. Knowing Minho had a long night at the studio, you had your headphones on in a feeble attempt to keep the volume low so he could sleep. While he was a dancer by trade, you were more of a dancer by passion—or, instead, someone passionate about dancing despite being terrible at it, moving with the grace of an elephant in ballerina shoes.

It wasn’t unlike you to listen to your boyfriend's music in secret; you’d never admit it to his face—the relentless teasing about being a fan while sleeping in his bed wouldn’t be worth it. So, it was mornings like these where you could happily sing along to "God’s Menu" while whisking away at the pancake batter.

“Cooking like a chef, I’m a five-star Michelin,” you sang, mimicking Felix’s voice as you whisked and spun around the room, mindful of your voice level so you could bring Minho his pancakes in bed. After one last spin, you locked eyes with him, leaning against the counter by the door, clapping slowly, his heart eyes almost popping out of his head.

“Minho!” you exclaimed, jumping in surprise. “I tried to stay so quiet! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” You apologised, walking over to kiss him on the cheek.

“I don’t know what I’m more offended by: the fact you were going to let me miss this, or that you weren’t singing my part,” he teased with a playful grin.

Changbin: Repairing a broken appliance

"Binnie, baby, it’s a microwave. I think we should just call someone or maybe just buy a new one," you suggest, reaching for his toolkit to prevent the inevitable disaster of him putting something metal inside the machine.

“No, bunny, it’s fine! I know what I’m doing,” he insists, reclaiming the toolkit and placing it back on the counter.

“You’re in an idol group; you’re not exactly an electrician. I just don’t want you to hurt yourself… or me,” you say tentatively, cringing every time he picks up a tool.

“I’m in a studio with electrics all the time. Trust me, it’s fine,” he reassures you, though his expression is puzzled as he examines the back of the microwave. He picks up a screwdriver, placing it against the panel to unscrew it.

“Wait!” you quickly interject. He turns to you with a raised eyebrow. “It’s still plugged in,” you whisper, teeth clenched at the near-disaster. He puts down his tools and grabs you in his arms, sitting you on the kitchen island planting a kiss to your lips.

“Maybe we should just call someone,” Changbin laughs in defeat, finally relenting.

Hyunjin: Changing the bedsheets

“We were so close!” Hyunjin exclaimed, bursting into laughter as another corner of the bedsheet popped off the mattress and landed in the middle of the bed.

“Are you sure this is the right size?” you asked, gasping for air between laughs. This had happened at least three times, and you were starting to suspect he was doing it intentionally just to make you smile.

“It’s the same sheet! It’s just been washed,” he insisted, trying to secure the corner back in place and struggling yet again.

“I’ll work on the sheet; you focus on the duvet,” you insisted. “Watching you do this over and over is going to give me a hernia.” You playfully swatted him toward the pile of duvets and covers. He relented, letting you take charge of the bottom sheet. You quickly pushed the corner into place.

“See, that wasn’t too—oh, shit.” As soon as you went to admire your work, another corner sprang free, sending you both into another fit of laughter.

“If we’re lucky, we might get into bed before the sun rises,” Hyunjin teased.

Han: Leaving notes around the home

Han had been away on tour for three agonising months. It was always the same when he left; nothing ever felt right. The apartment was too quiet, too clean; it didn’t feel like home. After his first long trip and realising how much it affected you, he started leaving little notes around the house in unexpected places. Even three months later, you were still finding new ones.

You both love this tea; you save it for special occasions—family, guests, and moments like these when you’re missing him more than usual. As the kettle boils, you rummage through the back of the cupboard and find the little metal tin you keep it in. Opening the lid, the sweet aroma fills the air, instantly reminding you of him. Reaching inside, you pull out another note. Reading it brings tears to your eyes, and you quickly grab your phone to tell him you found another one.

“Missing me so much that you got the tea out? I guess you must have hit the three-month mark. I miss you too, angel. - Hannie.”

Felix: Playing a competitive video game

“No fair! You cheated!” Felix exclaimed, his eyes glued to the screen in front of you both in shock. The tea on the table had gone cold, forgotten over the shouting and screaming from the two of you going head to head. Any on-looker wouldn’t believe you were madly in love with each other if they happened to pass by.

“Beginner's luck, what can I say?” you replied, leaning back into the sofa with your arms up, basking in your victory.

“It’s Mario Kart beautiful, there’s no beginner's luck!” He laughed, leaning over to kiss you as a reward.

“You know, baby, if you weren’t such a passenger princess—” you began, only to be cut off.

“Not you, too! I get enough of this from Channie-hyung. When do I have time to learn to drive?” he protested playfully, putting his remote down and moving closer to you.

“Well, Seungmin managed it…” you teased as he moved closer, trapping you beneath him with a roll of his eyes.

“One more round,” he pleaded, his lips brushing against yours. “Loser has to make dinner?” he suggested.

“Bet,” you whispered back, kissing him softly.

Seungmin: Deciding on what takeout to eat

You loved Seungmin wholeheartedly, but decisiveness wasn’t one of his strong suits. He sat at the table, surrounded by at least five different menus from local takeout spots, trying to decide what to order for dinner.

“At least three of these places serve ramen; just pick one!” you insisted, knowing you would end up ordering ramen anyway.

“But do you want ramen?” he asked, his eyes focused on the menus you hadn’t taken.

“Maybe after we’ve eaten…” you laughed at the innuendo, but Seungmin was too engrossed in the menus for the joke to register. “Minnie, love, it’s just food. I really don’t mind! Whatever you want,” you reiterated. He picked up a menu for a Chinese restaurant. Maybe he was going to stray out of his comfort zone. Then he put it back down and reached for one you had taken from him.

“Okay, okay. We’ll order from here. Their ramen is always good; can’t really go wrong,” he stated.

“You’re so predictable.” You laughed, standing up from the table to grab your phone to place the order.

“Hey! I just got the ramen joke!” he called after you, laughing.

IN: Binging trashy reality TV

“Come on! One more!” IN pleaded from the other side of the sofa. You were wrapped up in a long blanket, your legs intertwined with his, a bundle of snacks between you.

“Innie, I’m so tired!” you protested, eyes half-closed as he hit the 'Next Episode' button on the screen. You glanced at your phone; it was 11 pm. You’d been watching the same show for the past six hours, only taking breaks for meals and bathroom visits.

“Oh baby, but they’re just about to confront the cheater, and I don’t want to watch it without you…” His eyes were wide, pleading. How could you say no to him?

“Fine, one more,” you conceded easily. “But you’re bringing me breakfast in bed in the morning.” You joked, knowing he would move heaven and earth to make you happy. Truthfully, you were eager to see the cheater confronted by his three ex-mistresses.

“Deal!” he agreed, his face lighting up with excitement as the episode started.

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾? 𝖳𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾! 𝖬𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗑 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌!

𝖶𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗍𝖺𝗀 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖣𝗋𝗈𝗉 𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗋 𝖣𝖬!

#stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #stray kids #stray kids ot8 #skz ot8

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idesofrevolution · 7 months ago

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The Journey of Dr. Santana Fabrega

There's nothing quite like your bro slobberin' over your sweaty feet while tokin' on a hookah. Let me just tell you- everybody's happy. I'm stoked to be stoned and minty fresh, and he's happy to taste my ripe size 12's. Who isn't the happiest? The folks. Sure, I dropped out of college, sure I started focusing one hundred percent on my art, sure I have a parade of guys out of my little basement lair... but I never got why they had to be such fuckin' buzzkills.

Ever since they joined that church when I was at uni, my parents have been sucked into the Evangelical cult. Not the whole lifting your hands up to Jesus & speaking in tongues sort of church, by the way. Man, they're out there with picket signs at sex clinics, bannin' books at the high school, all that crazy fuckin' Christian Nation bullshit. They're my parents, so I love 'em and whatever. But fuck, those psychos really fucked 'em up. So now, their crusade is "curing" me of my gayness. Didn't really matter that I'm pan, they don't really know the difference. They don't really care about the difference, though. Not straight, not right.

So when they caught me the other day with Sam cleanin' my dick in the basement, it was World War 3. Man, a Nuclear Bomb would have less energy than my mom's hysterical shrieking. It's Florida, so it's nothing the neighbors haven't heard before. But, shit. I thought my eardrums were gonna pop. They stomped off upstairs, bein' all 'we are going to talk about this later, Santiago.' So, I let Sammy finish up, I pulled on some shorts and I went upstairs to face the fire while he snuck out the basement window. Fuck, I wished I were him.

The 'family meeting' went about as well as you'd expect. Threats of burning in hell for all eternity, demands that I find the Lord, etc. Apparently he doesn't like a lot of things about me: my weed, my tattoos, my sexuality, my piercings, my hair for some reason? I don't know man, I just tuned out after a while. What I did catch, though, they were sending me to substance abuse counseling. Couldn't help but laugh, and that sent dad through the fuckin' roof.

"Doctor Fabrega is going to teach you some manners, young man. Make you a Godly man, like you should be." Yada yada yada. He should have known better than to give me the doc's name. After the ass reaming, I made my way back downstairs to the computer. It took five minutes of research to find this Doctor Fabrega. Turns out he's a Christian Therapist, but that wasn't what was most interesting. Down in his specializations, buried beneath substance abuse & cognitive behavioral therapy was a word that caught my eye: licensed Hypnotherapist.

I knew exactly what kind of bullshit they were tryin' to pull on me. But when I was enrolled at U Miami, my major was Psychology. Not only that, but I still happened to have access to the university library. Oops.

I texted Sammy, knowing I was gonna be up all night doing research, and that my dick would need some appropriate attention under the desk. I was gonna show this motherfucker just how sick it really is to be like me.

---

The waiting room was bullshit. Cold white walls, bright wood floors... It looked straight out of an IKEA ad. I'd already been there for like 20 minutes past my appointment time, giving me just enough time to scroll through the last chapter on my phone. I hear the receptionist call out my name, and I head toward the office. Just as bullshit as the waiting room. It's like the guy wants to live in a psych ward- no color anywhere. At least get a blacklight or something.

"Santiago Rivera. Welcome, I'm Dr. Fabrega." The guy was hot as fuck, not gonna lie. Looked like he was straight out of Sao Paulo- even with the fancy suit you can't hide muscle like that. "Please, sit. It's so good to meet you." His voice was so weird. Speaking every word with like, perfect diction. You know those AI voices that talk that way? That's what it was like, as if he were trying so hard to hide an accent underneath.

"Just call me Santi, doc." I plopped down on the leather chair, might have put my feet up on his coffee table (don't recall), and he just looked at me like he was looking in a microscope. No idea what the deal was. He walked over to the couch and sat down with my file and started to drone on.

"Alright, Santi, it says here that your parents are pretty concerned about your behavior lately. You're 23 years old and a college dropout, you take illicit drugs, you have no job, and you're having unnatural thoughts. That's quite the list, bud." He was so fuckin smug, that sort of punchable glibness that only comes from a particular kind of self righteousness. Like Jesus himself came down and kissed them.

"So, first off. I did drop out of college, because I couldn't afford it. Second, I sure the fuck do smoke green because it's a) fun, and b) prescribed to me by my real doctor. Third, I do have a job. I do graphic design and graffiti art and I pay my own bills with it. And last off, yup: I fucked him." He sat there, somehow shocked that I told him how it was right off the bat. I'm not playing his little game, and that made him angry.

"I see. So you have no remorse for any of this? I believe your parents are very right to be concerned about where your life is headed."

"Fascinating, considering I'm moving out at the end of the month and they won't need to deal with my life. So. You married?" He was thrown off by that, just as I'd hoped. Right out of the blue. Knocks them off kilter for a second. An easy question to answer, so they usually do.

"Uh, well, no I'm not married. Is that your concern in all this?" Man, I couldn't help but laugh. He's trying to be sarcastic?

"Where did ya go to school for... whatever this is." This made him close my file, he even put it on the table and crossed his arms.

"I went to Liberty University, top of my class in their Doctor of Psychology program. You, it seems didn't make it that far, so you might not know what 'this' is." Oooh, he's big mad. I thought, let's push it. I did what most of my guys love, but would piss him off, I kicked off the Vans. Made sure I wore my skating shoes that day, the super ripe ones with the same damp socks. When they came off, those puppies let their presence be known.

"Sounds boring. Boring then, boring now. I got accepted into the Art Institute in Savannah, so I'll be headed that way soon. Be legit soon, then you wouldn't have anything to say. How's your sex life?" He thought he was so tough, not flinching at the musk, nor my question. But I knew both hit him right where I wanted. The question to make him mad, the stink to get him hot.

"Santiago, I think we should continue with our session. You can put your shoes back on and we can try some exercises to help you think a bit more clearly." I crossed my ankles, wriggling my toes a bit.

"I think they need some air. Are you gonna try and hypnotize me now? Or is that the last ditch effort when everything else fails?" He leaned back in his seat, the grimace growing stronger. "That stuff is not that hard to master. A couple days really and you got it down."

"Is that so?" He ground his teeth as he spat out his words. "It seems you know all there is to know, then." Time to hit it home.

"You know what, let's put money on it, doc. Hundred bucks says I can put you under." I got him, his eyebrow shifted just enough for me to see.

"This isn't a casino, Santiago. I don't bet money on client's health." I couldn't help but smirk. He left an opening I couldn't pass up.

"Aight, no money then. If I put you under, I get the bragging rights. If I don't, I'll play your stupid games. Win-win for you, nothing to lose but your dignity." Hook, line and sinker; he leaned in, grabbing the remote on the table next to him. He tapped a button, and the shades started to come down.

"Well then, Mr. Rivera. I wish you luck."

The room got dark. Really fuckin' dark. Fabrega hit another button on the remote, and a cool blue washed over the room. Gotta say, tight LED system. I kicked my shoes off the table, and scooted my chair forward. Showtime.

"Alright, Santana, I want you to just take deep breaths." He squirmed at my use of his first name, one last dig before I brain fucked him. He took his deep breaths one at a time, slowly getting deeper and deeper. "As I count down from one to ten, each number will bring you closer and closer to relaxation. Picture a long tunnel, at the end, a bright white light. With every number, you take a step forward to the light, do you understand?"

He nodded, it was an induction I'd made up this morning. I started from 10, telling him his first step he could feel the tingling relaxation in the tips of his fingers, slowly crawling up his hands and forearms. 9. Another step, the tingling creeps up his big muscly arms and shoulders. 8. One more step, the tingling is pushing up his neck and throat, reaching his tongue and teeth. 7. The tingling bursts into his head, a paradoxical rush of relaxation, a fog of dissonance washes over his brain as thoughts collide and crash about. 6. The tingling washes down his spine, flowing through his nerves into every part of his body. His body feels electric, a painless jolt running throughout him. I watched as he tensed up, his big muscles contracting and bunching him up. It was working.

We get to 5, starting at the crown of his head, the volts decrease, turning lugubrious and liquified like molasses sloshing about in his head. 4. The light is so close he can feel the heat, but his body is cooled as the syrupy fluid flows down over him like a waterfall, pooling in his big feet as it fills every crevice. 3. It feels as if he's trudging through mud toward the light, his legs feeling wobbly and gelatinous. 2. So close, his whole body feels like a massless blob, inching toward the final drop into the cavernous light. 1. He crawls toward the ledge, plummeting down into the endless void of bright white light. There, he will sit as I have a little bit of fun.

"Alright, Santana. Can you hear me in there?" Fabrega nods, expressionless. Fuck, that was maybe a 80/20 chance I was gonna fuck this shit up so bad. But I guess God really is on my side here. "Whenever I ask a question, you will answer truthfully. Whatever I say you will incorporate into your life. Now, Santana, what do you do when you're not at work?" His lips moved slowly and replied in monotone.

"I go to the gym, I go to the golf course, I hire my date, and I go home." Ooooh shit. He's giving my friends on the corners a decent living, good for him. Hardly a Godly thing to do. Either way, it was a perfect place to start.

"You love going to the gym, don't you, Santana?" He nodded. "You love gettin' all sweaty don't you?" His head began to shake, his expression furrowing a bit in disgust. "No, Santana. You love getting all sweaty. The feeling of those cool droplets on your hot muscles during a hard workout? Doesn't it feel good?" He pauses, before reluctantly nodding. Ahh I love gettin my fingers in his brain, never ceases to please. "You love that funk that comes off your sweat, Santana. You love sniffin your pits, your big feet, your balls... That musk means you're workin' hard. Keeping in shape. Staying virile. Isn't that right?" He nodded, squirming in the chair. I watched his body try to reject the instructions, try to rebel, but just one repetition had his back to stillness.

"You don't even like golf, do you?" He nodded, I didn't even need to manipulate him. "You much prefer hitting the beach, don't you? Seein' all the guys and gals starin' at your glorious bod... You love it, don't you?" He nodded, the side of his lip curling ever so slightly. "You love bringing out the speedo, letting the goods hang low, letting the buns bulge... you know they all wanna see it anyway..." He nodded again, it was like taking candy from a baby. The guy had the mental fortitude of a frog.

"You like fucking, too. You can have any girl or guy on the street with a single wink." He nodded, and I couldn't help but watch as his groin started to bulge. "Yeah, boy. You love taking that horse cock and plowing it into some ass... plowing it into some pussy... fucking their pretty little mouths..." Drool started to drip from the corner of his lip, and a little wet spot quickly appeared on his pants. "You're a freak, aren't you, Santana? You like fuckin' in the car, in the sauna, at the gym, under the desk... gushing gallons into them while you shove your sneaker on their face." He was moaning, slowly grinding against the open air. Can't lie, I was gropin' myself a bit just watching him.

"Now, Santana. I'm going to bring you back to your office, but when I do, you are going to be super laid back and chill with Santi during your sessions. If he says the word 'sniff' you will return to this space, return to an open mind, just as we have done here today. Do you understand?" He nodded one final time before I began his emergence. Counting back from one to ten, I watched as he slowly came back to the real world, and with one snap, he blinked his eyes and wiped his brow.

"Well, doc. I got the bragging rights." Fabrega pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he had a headache. Time to see if it had all paid off.

"Uhh... yeah... Santi. You got me there..." Perfect. He pulled his hand away from his nose, clicking the shades back up to their little hole. It didn't take long until he saw the wet patch on his bulbous package. He chuckled under his breath. "You'll have to excuse the mess, Santi... I have hyperspermia, so sometimes it all just flows out." Hot- and totally unprofessional. Just how I like 'em. I leaned back in my chair, smirkin' the whole way.

"Damn, doc. Firehose down there. Gonna have to show me sometime." He smirked and waved me off.

"I don't fraternize with clients, Santi. Oh, look at the time. I'm late for my 5:30. Alright, I'll see you next week." He stood up, extending his hand, his whole demeanor entirely changed. I slipped my Vans back on, spitting on my hand before gripping his. He shuddered a bit, sure. But we were gonna get real close, real quick.

---

The next few days flew by. My folks were so excited to see that I was looking forward to seeing Dr. Fabrega, and I loved knowing what they didn't. I was excited to see if Dr. Fabrega was gonna be Santana. So when I finally got back in for my appointment, I didn't need to wait long at all. Only five minutes and the door swung open, the receptionist completely flustered. The anticipation was killing me. She sat down behind her computer with tunnel vision and I walked into the office.

At first, I thought it was empty. He wasn't sitting at his desk, on the couch... but as I heard huffing from the balcony, I knew where to find him. I walked up to the sliding glass door, and turned outside to see one hell of a sight.

It was Santana. Nothing on but his whitie-tighties and his damp socks doing pushups on the bench. Fuck, those muscles were glistening in the light, his underwear with damp patches on his ass and bulge. His clothes sat in a pile near his head: jeans, a Miami Heat jersey, some sick dunks I wanted to steal... far from the stuffy suit he had on just the week before. He finally noticed me, and smiled.

"Santi! Hey! Just finishing up my lunch workout. Thought I'd get a session in today on the balcony. Damn, the fresh air is good for exercise!" I smirked. It was night and day. So far, gone was the bible thumping hypocrite, and here was what was underneath. If anything I was doing him a service.

"Shit, Santana! You're looking prime today. You gonna funk out our session today, or?" I punched him in the shoulder, and he giggled like a kid.

"It's eau naturale, my friend. Natural water. That's what it smells like." He slipped on his jeans and his big fuckin' sneakers, tossing the jersey over his head while we walked in. He trailed some deliciously ripe musk, and I couldn't help but savor a bit of it. We plopped down on our seats, and just started shootin' shit. I bitched about the parents, he bitched about his receptionist, I told him about Sammy suckin' my dick clean, and he told me about the threesome with a gym bro and his girlfriend. He was coming along beautifully. Though, I thought to myself, how's about a round two?

"Dude, by the way, those kicks are fuckin' tight." I pointed to the dunks, which he smugly kicked up onto the coffee table, showing them off.

"Thanks, man. They're the lifting shoes. My work boots, heh." I reached out, grabbing ahold of his foot, and yanked it off. He chuckled like a fuckin' idiot while I looked at 'em. Size 13, nice and big- and the smell wafting out of there... Fuck, man.

"Damn, dude you never wash your socks? These stink!" I playfully tossed the shoe at him, and just as he started to brush off the comment, I said my magic word. "Sniff it." Like a flipped lightswitch, his expression turned numb, slowly bringing the shoe to his nose and inhaling his own musk. I clapped my hands, rubbing them together: let's do a little more programming.

"Santana, You're a pretty chill guy, you know that?" He nodded. "You smoke, don't you? You know, the good shit?" Deep in his mind, he had to know it was me talking at this point, so I was talking to him like a bro. Establishes trust, ya know? He shook his head no. "Ahh, come on man. You love kickin' back and toking on that reefer after a long workout." Santana chuckled a bit, before nodding, still nose deep in his sneaker. "Yeah, you love smokin' out your bros, your babes... when you're not shootin' tequila!" He full out laughed on that one, nodding along. The sneaker slowly dropped from his hand, and he laid back in his chair.

"How old are you, Santana?"

"28." Shit, he was only a few years older than me. I mean, he looked young. But hell, you wouldn't have known it from the way he acted.

"Where are you from?" "Rio de Janeiro." Interesting. I clocked the accent. I was pretty proud of myself.

"Why do you try so hard to hide it? The way you talk, the way you dress, the way you act... You act like you're from Ohio." Another chuckle, I should have had a Netflix special. "You're gonna embrace that Brazilian pride, bro. Don't hide it for some mayo drinking buzzkills!" He furrowed his brow, nodding intently. This one was for his own fuckin' good. Be proud of that shit! "You should get some ink to really embrace it. Nothin' sexier than a tatted up stud, am I right?" He nodded again, his bulge once more springing to life. I smirked, simply wanting to know a little something somethin'.

"Do you think Santi is hot?" He sat there for a second, before slowly smiling and nodding. I didn't even need to program that one. Aww, big old himbo. "You're not afraid to let him know, are ya? I mean if you tell his crazy fuckin' parents that he's cured... He wouldn't be your patient anymore... Right?" His bulge twitched again, and he smirked devilishly as he nodded. "You like it when he's all up in your brain, don't you? You like it when he gets his dick deep in there and mind fucks you into a chill, laid back stud. Don't ya?" The dampness grew and his breath got heavy. He nodded, drooling down the sides of his cheeks. "Yeah, you wanna let him in completely, don't ya? Make you like him?" Moans grew, and his thrusting in the air quickened pace. "You wanna be best bros with him, don't ya? Bros with benefits... hangin' out, smokin' weed, hittin' the clubs, swappin' spit... swappin' cum... swappin' subs..." He started fuckin' howl. He was beggin' to splurge. "When I tell you, you will cum. And when you do, everything we talked about will be your truth. Now... Cum."

His eyes opened, still moaning loudly. He gripped onto his jeans, pulling down the waistband and underwear, that big old uncut donkey dick flopping out before shooting his load all over himself. Volley after volley. He wasn't kidding about the hyperspermia: maybe four double shots of his spunk sprayed like a geyser into the air. The 8th Natural Wonder of the World. He laid back and chuckled, throwing his arms behind his head.

"Fuck, brother!" The thickest accent flowed of those lips, deliciously thick. "After today, that'll be down your throat, cara." He pointed at me, hopping to his feet and shoving his python back into his pants. "So, I'll write your discharge papers, it'll get the pais off your back. Act the part until you're out, and just go live." Fuck yeah, we high fived, and I ruffled that sweaty mullet of his. "Hey, come over tonight. I got some friends comin' over... if you and Sammy wanna join." He winked and slapped my back. Damn, I did good.

"I'll be there, man! You save me a round so I can show you how to clean this dick." I groped my bulge, smirking as his bit his lip and winked. I've created a monster.

---

"Ei, sexy! Come get a toke before it's gone!" Such a demanding little bitch, I love him. I slipped his filled condom off my cock, the kinky fucker insisted, and I happily complied. If I'm being real, this psycho has taught me things! I flushed it down the toilet, and swung the bathroom door open to see him lounging on his bed, toking away at the blunt I packed.

"Hey you fuckin' hog, don't you smoke it all!" He chuckled dumbly, reaching over to hand me the blunt, taking the opportunity to snatch my wrist and pull me forward into a kiss. Fuck those lips were so good, pressed against mine or around my cock. "Isn't Carrie coming over soon? You gonna be able to get off so quick?" I pushed away, taking my puff.

"Ahh, plenty to go around, eh?" He groped that musky bulge that I had a feeling Sammy would be huffing later. "Ey, bring me my pants. We can go get a shot before she gets here." Heh, the last month or so crashing with him has been fuckin' sick. The folks think I'm rooming with some guy from the church, when really I'm gooning with my therapist every night in his bed. Savannah is letting me take online courses, I'll have my B.A. in a couple of years, and I'm already getting some gallery hits. Santana is gonna be my armcandy for the opening, and I told him to forget his deodorant. Fuck he’s perfect. But a thought had crept in my head the other day. One last program, one final idea planted in his head... Though, at this point, there was no need to put him under. I'd just ask him.

"Hey, so I gotta go to Georgia to finish up some paperwork at the school. It got me thinking... I'm followin' my dream. What about you?" I tossed him his pants and passed the blunt, taking a deep whiff of those ripe dunks before throwing them his way too.

"I could go back to the practice, though I think the bible thumpers would lose their minds, heh."

"Well... What we did for eachother... What if you did it for others?" I slowly got down to my knees, a smirk crawling across my face. "What if you could help those poor... misguided young men change their lives?" I crawled toward him, spreading his legs wide as I tossed his legs over my shoulders. "Wouldn't that be so... so... fun?" I slowly pulled down his musky briefs, releasing his monstrous cock again, the musky hooded beast slapping me on my cheek. "Then, we could have so... many... new.. friends..." I pulled down his slimy hood and wrapped my lips around his tip. I should have known better. His hand grabbed the back of my head, slamming it down onto his spear, my nose buried in his bush as he thrust back and forth into my mouth.

"Unff... Yeah, brother... Oh yeah... That sounds like a good... unhhhhh... good idea." Grunting, slapping, moaning, slurping... it all rang out in his room, until he gushed another thick load down my throat. "You wanna join me?" And in that moment, I smiled. It was the best idea he'd had yet.

#original #hypnosis #mind control #himbo #bisexual #transformation #male hypnosis #male transformation #stoner #cannabis #musk #footplay #switch #male reprogramming

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mentally-gone002 · 3 months ago

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is it too early to love you? - part 5

(moodboard made by moi)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, page 6, part 7

summary: reader and spencer build ikea on the floor. they both know there’s something there, but don’t know or won’t say what it is.

a/n: okay… can i just be honest and say idfk what i was doing but i like it??? i feel like my tone while writing this one changed a bit, but idc (i do but idk how to fix it😭) so pls enjoy I ALSO LOVE UR COMMENTS THEY KEEP ME SANE AND MAKE ME SUPER HAPPY

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i went without complete dish sets and whatever else i’d written down that i needed to replace for two weeks. because unfortunately the FBI isn’t like the normal nine-to-five. i had to work through a wall of paperwork, and three cases spread across the country before i was able to step foot in ikea.

i felt bad while looking at and then eventually bringing home various things because i didn’t tell spencer i was going. but i felt like i had to go alone, because it was my apartment and all. and i didn’t want him to feel like he had to look after me.

so now i found myself sitting on the floor in my ‘lazy clothes’ which was just sweatpants and a tank-top, drinking my second glass of wine and blasting some upbeat music with a half assembled tv stand in front of me. i was flipping through the instruction book and sorting out all of the pieces i needed so that it wouldn’t fall apart either on me or in the middle of the night. my healing foot that was completely painless after the glass incident moved along with the rhythm of a song.

my trip to ikea was quite successful. i found some pretty blue dishes and really nice drinking glasses that i’d already washed and put away. they looked better than all the other dishes i’d had before, so maybe james going on a rampage was a really, really awful blessing in disguise.

i still felt bad that i didn’t bring spencer along.

halfway through taking in a mouthful of wine i was brought out of my thoughts by a series of knocks on my front door. i swallowed the wine and walked to the door.

“hey! what’re you doing here?” i swiped a drip of wine from the corner of my smile-curled lips while looking up at spencer.

he studied me before answering, “you weren’t answering your phone.”

i opened my mouth as if to say ‘oh’ while glancing back to my phone as it sat on the counter. “sorry, i had the ringer off. do you wanna come in?” i asked, directing my eyes back to him.

he nodded and i opened the door wider. his face changed as he saw the disarray of my apartment. “you went to ikea without me?” he asked.

i closed my door with a smile. “yeah, this morning. sorry i didn’t call you, i just wanted to go on my own.” i walked past where he was standing beside my dining table to turn down my music slightly prior to sitting back on the floor. “do you want some wine?” i pointed at my almost empty glass.

he shook his head. his eyes slowly looked over all of the things on the floor, and how i had my couch pushed against a wall to make the space seem bigger, and then me. “have you been doing this all day?”

i shook my head, finishing my wine before answering. “no. well… i got up at eight and then came home at noon, struggled to get everything inside for an hour and then went to get food with penelope which meant i got home around six, so no.” the extent of my day tumbled out of my mouth. the recitation was more for me, just backtracking over everything i did just to get the answer right for spencer. “why?” i pushed some hair from my face.

spencer looked at me with an amused smile and came to sit beside me. “you look happy.”

my hand reached for a piece of what was the next step in the instructions on the floor beside me. i worked on the furniture while i replied to spencer. “i always get really excited when i get new furniture.” i quickly followed the rest of the instructions on the page before turning all of my attention to spencer. “what did you get up to today?”

he shrugged. “nothing half as interesting as what you did.” his eyes looked over my face a few times. i gave him a look and silently told him to just tell me. he cleared his throat. “i went to the park and played chess, walked around to a few bookstores, drank six cups of coffee and then came here because you wouldn’t answer my calls.” his body leaned closer to mine as he talked about my unanswered calls.

i giggled. “i already said i’m sorry for that.” my heartbeat sped up at his proximity. it was just the wine… i think. “also, six cups of coffee? on a weekend?”

spencer nodded. “i like coffee.”

“oh, trust me, i know.” i smiled. “are you sure you don’t want some wine?” i asked, slowly getting up to refill my glass. “it’s that kind rossi broke out for us… a while ago.” i wiggled my eyebrows a little, holding the almost half full bottle up for him to see.

he didn’t answer immediately, meaning he was contemplating, before he inevitably nodded.

i smiled and went to grab another glass and fill it up. he joined me in the kitchen, gently taking the glass from me while i poured more for myself. “i’m glad you’re here.” i took a sip.

“are you?” he asked.

i nodded, bumping into his side as a way to tease but i stayed leaning into him. “yeah. your company isn’t too bad.” a smile spread over my lips that i hid with my wine glass.

spencer huffed a short laugh. “do you want help finishing that?” he was referring to the tv stand on the floor.

i stared at it, tilting my head this way and that before i answered, “yeah.”

spencer nodded and we went back to sit on the floor together. with his help we got it done in less time than it took for me to construct the first half. granted, i was doing more dancing and procrastination when it was just me.

after it was done i laid down on the floor, knees up while i stared at the ceiling. my eyes moved to look back at spencer as he smiled down at me. “what?”

“nothing.” he didn’t look away like he usually would. he kept on staring like he did that night i was in his hotel room.

i smiled giddily. “in case you need a picture.” i slid his phone to him in the space between us.

he shook his head. “i have an eidetic memory.”

i propped myself up on my elbows. “i thought that only worked with words.”

“it’s works with images too.” spencer told me, reaching out a hand to move a piece of hair out of my face.

i didn’t breathe while he was doing that. i felt his finger tips on my face and it made me feel warm. “how long do you remember stuff for?”

“the specifics kind of fade after a few minutes but i still remember whatever i saw.” his voice grew softer as he spoke.

it got quiet between us again.

i don’t mind the silence. it leaves me with a better ability to focus on his features. like his deep eyes. his brown hair that framed his face perfectly. the blue sweater that just be new.

i looked away in a rush, trying to push the observations out of my head.

i can’t be doing this to myself. why am i not allowing myself to feel for him?

“what’s wrong?”

“nothing i just… i have a lot on my mind.”

“like what?” he was trying to help, so why did i want to push him away right now? i’ve never thought like this before.

i inhaled deeply. “why did you kiss me?” my eyes found his and he looked like a deer in the headlights.

he looked away for a second before looking back. “i’m sorry i did that.”

“i’m not asking for an apology,” i said. “i’m asking why you kissed me.” i wasn’t trying to sound rude or anything other than curious, and yet he seemed like he wanted to cry.

spencer cleared his throat. “i did it because i’ve wanted to for three years… and i knew that if i didn’t do it that night, i wouldn’t have another chance to.”

i want to say that explains the last three years, but i can’t. he was too good at hiding his feelings for me to have even had a hunch about it until four weeks ago.

i didn’t even recognize my own feelings for spencer until four weeks ago… and i’m still not entirely sure what those feelings i have are.

i only nodded and looked away. i sat up all the way and moved to sit criss-cross right against him, leaning into him, head on his shoulder.

i wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words, and spencer was okay with that. he returned the touch with an arm around my back. his hand gently grasped my waist. his head rested on the top of mine.

i closed my eyes. he was really warm. and he was right there. “is it too early to love you?” i breathed. i could barely hear myself. the chances of spencer hearing was slim, but his hand on my waist gave a gentle squeeze.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid scenario #criminal minds fanfic

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hetalian-veteran · 2 months ago

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Hetalia Sleep Headcanons

Here, have my headcanons about how the Hetalia characters sleep because I'm still awake at this ungodly hour of the night.

🇮🇹Italy needs to cling to something to sleep well. Whether it be a pillow, a plushie, or another person, the poor guy needs something or someone there to cuddle.

🇩🇪Germany has really bad insomnia and can only get at most four or five hours of sleep a night, and that's if he's lucky. But when he does sleep, he probably sleeps on his back, still as the grave.

🇯🇵Japan also sleeps on his back and is so still and quiet that every now and then, someone comes by to check and see if he really is asleep and not dead.

🇮🇹Romano sleeps on his side with his arms sort of stretched outward, almost as if he's reaching for someone. That, or he's dreaming of beating someone up. You know, one or the other.

⚔️Prussia will lay down on his back and fall asleep that way. However, he's the kind of guy who moves around a lot in his sleep. So when he wakes up, he's sort of on his face and stretched out like a starfish.

🇪🇸Spain sleeps like a freaking baby and gets a full nine hours every night. Lucky son of a gun.

🇬🇧England has a pretty hard time quieting his mind down enough to get to sleep. So he spends his nights slowly sipping on a cup of tea to try and calm himself down enough to get some shut-eye.

🇺🇸America moves around, twists, and rolls over so often in his sleep that when he wakes up, he typically finds himself tangled up in his blankets. Sometimes, he accidentally rolls out of bed.

🇫🇷France can only sleep if the room is completely dark. Like, pitch black. He also sleeps on his side and sometimes hums a little in his sleep.

🇨🇳China has insomnia pretty bad and, as a result, will often find himself staying up at night drinking tea. When he can sleep, however, he sort of curls up into a ball under the covers.

🇷🇺Russia sleeps on his back and stays in that position the entire night. Sometimes giggles and smiles a little in his sleep.

🇨🇦Canada needs several layers of heavy blankets to sleep, as well as something or someone to cuddle.

🇩🇰Denmark sleeps on his side and has sometimes been heard singing in his sleep, though nobody has been able to make out what exactly he's singing. He also occasionally snores.

🇸🇪Sweden usually falls asleep whilst looking through Ikea catalogs. They seem to really help calm his mind.

🇫🇮Finland often smiles while he sleeps, sometimes even giggling a little every now and again. He also sleeps best when listening to some of the most intense, heavy metal you've ever heard.

🇳🇴Norway plays white noise and curls up into a ball under a couple of layers of thick, heavy blankets. He probably hugs a pillow, thinking of the days when Iceland used to call him big brother as a little kid.

🇮🇸Iceland can only get to sleep in total darkness and in total silence. He's also a light sleeper, so anybody walking around the room will immediately wake him up.

🇭🇺Hungary sleeps like an actual normal person. I really don't know how else to describe it. Though she has been heard saying some pretty weird crap in her sleep before.

🇦🇹Austria sleeps best if he has soft classical music playing. Unfortunately for him, Prussia hacked into his playlist and threw in some of Finland's heavy metal songs.

🇱🇮Liechtenstein is a fairly light sleeper. She's also afraid of the dark, so she typically has a nightlight somewhere in her room.

🇨🇭Switzerland is also another character with insomnia. This is because he is low-key paranoid about making sure the entire house is locked up before he goes to bed at night. He wants to make sure he and Liechtenstein are safe.

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satoruhour · 1 year ago

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OK but gojo would overuse cheezy lines because it makes reader laugh and roll her eyes, I can see him being so cheesy it hurts

a/n: DARLA U R FEEDING THE INSANITY I HAVE IN REGARDS TO GOJO !!!!!! this is so cutee ty for requesting !!!

yes very correct!!! he likes to find jokes in EVERYTHING i swear he’s so smart relating them to mochi or farts

“did you fart? cause you blew me away.” like…. that is not a romantic pick up line gojo…

hes not ashamed to say how he picked you up with a joke back in high school and all you did was roll your eyes (because he is was pretty annoying to you back then) and walk away

he had even bought your favourite drink to confess but all you did was roll your eyes and walk off… immediately flipping open your phone to text utahime and shoko in a group chat of the three of you

poor dude 😭😭

but you started to fall for him — you’re not too sure how and when, but you’re actually the one who used a lame pick up line to start the rs and not him!!

you were tempted to use his but you thought of something you knew he’d like and you’re almost mumbling it (gojo hears it the first time, like doesn’t he have six eyes? not six ears? smh)

he asks u to repeat it (“i like you very mochi…”) and he’s soooo annoying about it but ceases your misery with a big hug

continues to use it throughout your relationship - has SO many from the top of his head it’s quite a feat ngl

a little more into your relationship he teases you about love @ first sight — “do you believe in it? or should i walk past again?”

you almost slap him with your drink

when you’re going shopping for new clothes for megumi and tsumiki he points to his shirt

“know what this is made of?”

you deadpan, “what.” and the giggles are almost so difficult to hold back on gojo’s end.

“it’s boyfriend material.”

“satoru. you ARE my boyfriend.”

HES SO GOOFY I SWEARRR and he screams excitedly and does jazz hands and says “really?” with a cute, fairly punchable face 😭😭

that was the first time it really sunk in gojo was ur bf cause u bagged the strongest sorcerer? insanity. it made you smile a little, you cant lie

another time you’re teaching history to megumi as part as one of his middle school classes, and gojo shouts from the kitchen

“im studying to become a historian.”

and you almost spit out your drink cause what the fuck was he saying??? wasn’t he 25 and a super popular sorcerer

megumi says “oh no” and you think you know what’s coming. gojo finishes it

“i’m especially interested in finding a date.”

“oh COME ON.” and megumi leaves PLEASEKRNF hes so funny, “come teach me when you two stop flirting” 💀

safe to say megumi failed his history test

he plants these little things a lot, that soon you get accustomed to it or even answer it for him and he’s like whining

“you’re so sweet, baby,” and you know there’s a catch to everything he says

“yeah cause i give you a toothache, right”

“BABEEEEE ….” he attempts to give you the silent treatment for one hour. he lasts five minutes

you think it has something to do with age, maybe, cause the longer you’re with gojo the longer you find yourself liking the stupid lame pick-up lines he uses

like sure rolling eyes and giving him the finger is fun but they make your heart flutter at times and you find that you can’t stifle a smile that well around gojo anymore lolol

one day gojo broke the door off the hinges, honestly you dont know how either, so you head to IKEA

“your eyes are like IKEA, i could get lost in them for hours.” and you’re shoving him with a loud laugh, not really rolling your eyes.

he bombards you with lines as you act as suburban couples in the showrooms, he says something about meatballs and then you two really get lost

shrek movie night: “call me shrek cause i’m head ogre heels are you”

and you’re sputtering pizza all over the living room as you laugh, giving your own line that has you two forgetting about the movie. megumi rolls his eyes and smiles when he sees you two having fun :)

gojo likes your laugh, he likes to make u laugh, and he has a thousand and one more pick up lines to use on you

that night he uses “you’re so beautiful you made me forget my pick up line” and you gush, pushing him away with a shy smile and everything. he kisses you and whispers “i mean it.”

just know you’re fated to this stupid goofy man and his stupid pick up lines for the rest of your life <3

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hellsburners · 1 year ago

Text

yellow sunrise

summary: you and peter take things to the next step. pairing: teacher!peter parker x librarian!male reader word count: 2.8k warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, eventual smut, protected sex, top!peter, bottom!reader, tears were shed you guest how, peter is a good boyfriend..kinda? a/n: part 2 to orange juice^^

masterlist | more peter parker

The past few weeks have been very good. Peter would occasionally visit you in the library with packed lunch, you tried to do the same but cooking was never really your strong suit. You would spend lunches eating together at the library talking about stuff going around the school, Mayday, and the library. He also took you to a new science museum in Brooklyn, the two of you stood in awe as you saw new advances in science and technology.

Mrs. Diaz, the head librarian, took note of your good performance for the past months and has said that she will give a good word for your promotion. You and Peter went out on a drink that night to celebrate. You have also stayed in touch with Mayday, the three of you would watch movies together, go to parks, and it was like you were bing included in their small family.

On the way home from work, you were carrying an Ikea bag full of art materials since the library department settled on joining in with halloween decorations. You planned on cutting up colored paper into some decor. It was cold tonight, so cold that you zipped your jacket over your two seaters as you went to a bodega to grab a sandwich for dinner. The old man in the cashier took your order and you gave him 6 dollars in return. The heavy blue bag sinking into your skin makes it hurt a little. A small TV, like the box ones with antenna, near the cash register was playing the news.

BREAKING NEWS: Multiple assailants attack a bank in Queens. The villains known as The Sinister Six attacked a local bank seeking the presence of the web-slinging hero, Spider-man. The assailants are identified by their aliases, Boomerang, Beetle, Shocker, Overdrive, and Speed Demon. Four hostages were seen in the premises but a final number has not been confirmed.

The old man gave you the sandwich and you went hurrying to your next block. A few corners from the bodega you saw smoke billowing in the street corner to your place. The beetle flying with her pink wings as Spider-man came swinging after her. A crowd of people surrounded the bank, police on hold to barricade them. You knew how dangerous this was but you’ve never seen Spider-man in person, and there he was.

Spider-man was wounded by sharp boomerangs that flew across the sky. There were five villains against one Spider-man. You saw the hostages leave the bank from Spider-man distracting the criminal, some were wounded and coughing from the smoke. Your mind went to Peter, is he safe? You tried to dial for his number but no one answered. Spider-man took the Sinister Six one by one, the crowd cheered for him.

With worry dragging on your foot you hurried home. You kept on dialing for Peter’s phone, still no answer. In your peripheral you could see a shadow creeping up behind you. You tried to walk faster but the man’s hand was already on your shoulder. “Nice phone you got there kiddo,” the masked man said. Your heart raced, he was holding a short kitchen knife. “Come on now, give it away or else I’ll hurt ‘ya!” the man swung his knife at you but you quickly fell back. You ran yelling for help as he stood up to run after you.

“You know, I was on my way home from the bank earlier but I heard some yelling and then I see you Bernard,” the man perched in a streetlamp yelled. A masked man in red and blue, Spider-man. He flicked his wrists and webs stuck to the thief’s arms binding them together. He swung down and bound the thief’s legs too. He wrapped him in webs and stuck him to the pole. Spider-man picked your phone from the man’s pocket and gave it to you.

“You saved my life,” you said.

“Yeah, just your friendly neighborhood Spider-man,” You couldn’t help but stand in awe. “By the way, this street gets a little dark at night, prone to pickpockets so I suggest you go through the other street it's safer.”

You were speechless in his presence but you managed to utter another thank you. Spider-man made sure the man was stuck to the pole and swung again. You rushed to your apartment, no more stops, you promised. Your phone rang the moment you got inside, it was Peter.

“Peter! Oh my god I was so worried, are you okay?” you put your stuff down, unzipping your jacket afterwards.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry I couldn’t pick up your phone. I was doing some laundry,” you let out a sigh of relief. “How about you, are you okay? I saw the news.”

“Well, I almost got robbed. But Spider-man saved my life!” you could hear sirens outside your winds and in Peter’s, his being a bit louder. “Are you outside?”

“Oh, I just got in. Have you eaten?” he said, diverting the topic. Your eyes glanced at the paper bag in your bag, the contents flattened, some sauce leaking through the paper.

“Well, my sandwich got smushed so I’ll try to salvage what's left of it.” he laughs.

“I’m gonna call you later, I promised Mayday I’ll let her show me her new drawings from art class,” you felt relieved knowing he gets to talk to her. Whenever Mayday is even mentioned in conversation a weight would leave his shoulders.

✎𓇢𓆸

You snuggled up in bed wearing a worn out shirt and gym shorts. You were reading a book, your eyes weighing in as you turn a new page. Your phone rings, Peter was a man of his word. You pick up the phone, Peter says he was just getting into bed as well. He groans as you hear him get down in the soft cotton sheets.

“Sorry, did I bother you?” he said. You assured that he didn’t since you love hearing his voice, especially before sleep. It was comforting. “So, how was this Spider-man? Did you finally feel like you met the man of your dreams?” he says jokingly.

“We actually kissed as he went down on his webs. It was very romantic,” you retort.

“Is that so?” he says, his brows raised. He was being playful. “That's all you did? Next time let me watch.”

“Okay, you voyeur,” you chuckle. “Snooping around me and Spider-man.” you gave him a bossy tone. You both laugh from the sheer childishness of your conversation.

“You know what I want?” his voice lowers to a gravelly hoarse whisper, like a morning voice. “I want whatever Spider-man is having.” You giggled. Peter and you have been tip-toeing on taking things to the next level. You’ve made out before, gotten to some touching, once you even straddled him while making out, but nothing more than that. Peter would always seem to restrain himself.

“You want to get hurt too? Didn’t know you had that side in you, Parker,” you hear Peter groan as he changes positions in bed.

“Would you,” Peter muttered, his voice was shaky, like he was just caught in a lie. Blood rushed through your veins. Whatever scared Peter scared you too. “Would you want to stay with me tomorrow night? I don’t know, I felt like it was time.”

Oh.

He went there, you thought. You weren’t in a rush, in a way you felt scared that doing this would change the dynamic you two had. From being flirty coworkers to something more serious. You bit your lip, thinking about the words that came out of Peter’s mouth. “No pressure of course. I’ll move at whatever pace is most comfortable for the both of us.” he said with a voice that you felt was his sincerest.

“I’d love to. I’m excited actually,” Peter was shocked with your answer, he said he was happy and would make sure you were comfortable.

✎𓇢𓆸

Peter told you to come by his apartment by 9pm since the faculty had its quarterly meeting and would probably finish late. He also said that you should wait for his text before you came, so as not to spoil the surprise, whatever that meant. So you sat on your couch, dressed for the occasion. You made sure everything was good, you looked presentable, showered, flossed and brushed your teeth, you even used your more expensive perfume a friend gave you for your birthday. You looked at the clock ticking and moving its hand at you.

For what felt like forever the clock went from 6pm to 7pm.

And then 8pm.

Then 9pm.

Then it was 11:30pm. No text. No call. Nothing.

You started to feel shame, like someone had undressed you in public, or took away your shoelaces and tied them up together. It was embarrassing, you felt like this was bound to happen. That Peter was bound to disappoint you somehow. That giddy feeling was temporary and it was pulled under you like a rug, hitting your ass on the hardwood floor like an idiot.

Thud!

You went on your feet to check the loud sound that hit your window. You took a kitchen knife and slowly crept your way to the window. The window was open, the wind blowing on the curtains hiding the shadowy figure creeping on you. You heard the figure groan. You slowly saw the man come in. Clad in blue and red spandex, the lean man entered your home. He was unmasked, a man in his 30’s with a slight stubble, his brown hair a tousled mess.

“Peter?”

He looked at you with his large brown eyes. His face had a light cut on his cheek. His gait was weak the way he walked towards you. You couldn’t fathom whatever was in front of you. Your chest heaves from thinking. How long has he been doing this? Is that why—

“Hey, I know what you think,” he gestures for you to calm down.

“You have no idea of what I’m thinking about right now.”

“Just put the knife down and we can talk. Can we talk?” the both of you sat down on your small dining set, your chairs parallel one another. “I’m sorry I was late and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You made the calculations in your head, Spider-man has been a hero of the city for 17 years. Peter has been doing this for that long? You stared at him speechless. He looked at you with the same sad puppy eyes he would always do, his brows raised and furrowed, his bottom lip protruded a bit, his shoulders relaxed. “I didn’t want to risk your safety.”

“But why show me now?”

“Well, to be honest, I think I got hit pretty well so I couldn’t swing back home.” he smiled. “But most importantly I wanted you to know. So you have the option to stay or to go.”

“Why would I do that?” you said, your arms crossed, your brows furrowed with confusion. Peter looked down on his hands on the table. You could see tears forming under his eyelashes. “Why would you make me choose?” You stood up and took his hands, you held them in your palms, warm and calloused. He looked up at you. You take your thumb and wipe his tears. “I choose to say Pete, because I want to. You’ve been this city’s hero for years. And I’ve looked up to you most of my life. I know you’re capable of protecting the people of this city, but I want to be here to support you. Be the guy who takes care of Spider-man when he’s hurt and to make the man underneath the mask feel loved.”

Peter stood up, his body towering over you. He placed his hands on each side of your face, bending down to place his lips on yours. It was a tender kiss, tears falling from Peter’s face. You bring him to your bedroom, his arms wrapped around your waist. His gloved hands occasionally peered under the hem of your shirt touching bare skin. He tries to grab the zipper on his nape, he struggles a bit, the two of you laughing. You helped him unzip the suit. Your eyes wandered through the landscape of his back, wide and muscular, yet it also showed who he was when the city called. Scars left and right, some new, some old, and yellowish bruises around his ribs.

Peter, now only wearing his black boxers, sat down on the bed with you standing in between his thighs. He peppered your neck with kisses. He started to pull on the hem of your shirt, lifting it above your head. Your shorts and underwear came after. With his hands now placed on the back of your thighs, he gestures for you to straddle him. Doing as you’re told he starts to caress your ass, his large hands hugging them fully.

Peter pulls you back, his back on the bed while you towered on top of him. Your arms both at the side of his head supporting your weight. You could feel Peter’s erection stirring inside his underwear, you rub yourself on the hardness, his eyes fall back as he curses. “You’re unfair,” you said, pointing your eyes at his underwear. Peter smirked, pulling his underwear until it was at his ankles.

You started to stroke his cock while leaving kisses on his neck, your room filled with the sound of grunts and moans. You go down to your knees at the edge of the bed. You take his cock inside your mouth, you hadn’t realized it was the mouthful. Saliva coats his hardness while it goes in and out your mouth. Peter sits on the edge of the bed, his hands running through your hair.

“Fuck, you’re so good.” Peter moans.

“Language Mr. Parker,” you jokingly said before continuing your task. Peter’s noises began to become louder, the grip he had on your hair became tighter. He taps your shoulder, his chest heaving, you ease down releasing his wet cock. The head throbbing and red, white liquid already forming at the tip.

“Do you have condoms?” Peter asked. You stood up to take the condoms and the bottle of lube in your nightstand. Peter takes your hand and brings you to the bed, your positions now reversed, with your back to the bed while his body towers over you. He kisses you once more before he puts the condom on his dick, stroking it with a palm full of lube.

“You ready?” he whispered to your ear. You nod, he puts a lubed finger to your hole, preparing you for his erection. With a slow thrust of his hip he sheathes himself inside you. You both let out a loud groan. You take him to you, kissing him more to ease some of the sting. After your body has acclimated to the pressure, Peter starts to push his cock in and out of you, the pressure begins to turn into pleasure, your eyes welling with tears. Peter starts to suck on the skin on your neck, not enough to mark but enough to make you a whimpering mess under him. Peter’s hands find yours, your fingers intertwined as he places them beside you. His thrusts were deep, the strokes long, you felt so full of him, his body, his scent, his essence. Your body surged with pleasure.

He starts to stroke your cock, your arms now wrapped around his neck. Your mouths become slopier by the second. You tell him you were close, he tells you the same. With his thrusts becoming more erratic your muscles clench making your hole tighter. Peter groaned from the sudden tightness. Your arms wrapped tighter on his neck, his face on your ear letting out profanities. At the moment your moans, his hip and yours, gave out the same rhythm. The pleasure fills you up with intensity. The two of you at the same time called out for each other’s name as you climaxed.

✎𓇢𓆸

You woke up from the scorching heat of the sun on your bare skin, the room filled with yellow light. The window was open and Peter was gone. You stood up to take your shirt and your shorts, stretching your neck before getting a glass of water. In the dining table you saw a paper folded into a flower with a note next to it.

Had to go do something, duty calls (also because I stink). I didn't want to wake you because you looked so peaceful,but I will see you later I promise. Thoughts on swinging around town with me? It’ll be fun I promise! I had a great night by the way. I love you.

-Peter.

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

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moonlightndaydreams · 6 months ago

Text

Limbo - part 4

Pairing: Lee Minho x fem reader x Han Jisung

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9

Synopsis: Lee Minho is the mysterious new accountant at your workplace, and he seems to have his sights set on you. But things aren't so simple when your ex boyfriend Han comes back into the picture. Can you and Minho make it work, or will you get back with Han?

Spoiler: Happy ending, eventual poly minsung.

Chapter Summary: You and Minho work back, things get steamy.

MDNI / smut

Taglist: open.

A/n: this story may be familiar to some. It’s a rework of one of my older stories where I’ve now changed my fem lead to be reader.

CW: this chapter - workplace flirting, potentially inappropriate behaviour, alcohol (one drink), choking, using a tie as a collar, stripping, blowjobs, face riding, office sex, protetcted p in v sex, rough sex, tender sex, comfort, pet names, safeword (not used), sex where you could get caught, pet names (kitten, but that's standard for minho)

A few night’s later, you found yourself working back at the office again. You seemed to do this a lot when Binnie and Hyunjin were in full gossip mode, which was happening more and more frequently now they had more to gossip about. They made it their personal mission to keep an eye on Minho “keeping an eye on you”. They were certain he was infatuated with you. But all you knew for certain was that you weren't getting your work done.

Eventually, you decided to call it a night. You packed your bag and turned off the light to the office, closing the door behind you as you left your workspace. The hallway was dark, except for a light coming from up the hallway. Someone had forgotten to turn their light off, or, someone was working back. Other than yourself, who in their right mind would be working back?

As you got closer to the source of the light you could tell it was coming from the accountant’s office. Minho’s office. You stopped short. What if Minho was in there? You weighed up whether to go ahead and see, or to turn and run the other way.

"Come on y/n, get a grip. You’re a mature woman, not a silly girl." Your words did not snap you out of it.

But before your head could make up it's mind what to do, you were walking forward towards his office, catching a glimpse of him through the glass window as you approached.

It was indeed Minho. He was sitting at his desk, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, head in hands, fingers tangled through his hair. He looked stressed. Paperwork was strewn all over his desk and he looked fucking exhausted.

You stopped at the doorway and knocked.

Minho looked up, startled, a wry smile crossed his face.

"No singing and dancing this evening, Kitten?" he tried to tease, but his words held no humour.

You pretended you didn’t hear his quip and wandered into the room. Your eyes scanned all the documents around him. It looked like a mess. Minho looked tired and fed up, and he reminded you of how you felt when she thought it was a great idea to buy some Ikea furniture only to find yourself in the middle of her living room floor, pieces all about you, and no idea where to put them. It was only a lamp table for fucks sake. Although after that you became an Ikea whiz and could put a bookshelf together in record time.

You weren't sure what to say. “Are you okay?” you managed, sitting down in the chair on the other side of his desk. He didn’t answer, so you took one of the documents to see what they were about. You probably shouldn’t be looking, but Minho didn’t stop you. The look of despair on his face began to worry you.

“What’s happened?” you looked at him closely.

Minho laughed manically. “It’s…” he began. He didn’t look like he was up for telling you, but he surprised you with his next sentence. “Can you help me, y/n?” He waved his hands, gesturing over the strewn documents.

You looked down at the documents once again, taking a closer look at what they were. It looked like a report of some kind. At least five hundred pages of report, each page had holes down the side as if they had once been spiral bound.

“It’s the annual report.” Minho’s face changed from bewildered to pissed off. “I found it on my desk like this.” Again he gestured over the mess.

“I have to present this to the board meeting tomorrow.” his brow creased as he frowned.

You knew what he was asking. He wanted you to help him put the pages back in order. You sighed and picked up a bunch of the paper, scanning them, and began to rifle through the other mini piles on the desk.

“If we can find the contents page then we can at least get some order going on.”

He looked at you thoughtfully, seemingly approving of your idea.

You both spent the next several hours piecing together the report, tediously and meticulously cross checking with the contents page, and using your judgement of what looked like the right order.

After a while Minho sat back in his chair, loosened his tie and stretched his arms up above his head. He drew in a deep breath and exhaled fully. Then he rested his gaze on you.

“Have you been avoiding me?” he asked all of a sudden.

“Huh?” You looked up from your busyness. You thought for a moment. “Hmm…no.” You shook your head.

“I hope not. I just… I thought we’d have more interactions than we do.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. “Um, well I guess my department and yours don’t really need to interact all that much.” You shifted your attention back to the paperwork.

You could feel Minho’s eyes fixed on you. Your cleared your throat awkwardly and looked up. “What?” You queried. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You eyed him suspiciously. Fuck, he was gorgeous. Suddenly aware of the tension filling the room, you quickly averted your eyes back to the report. Your cheeks felt flushed and your mouth dry.

“Thank you… for helping me.” He said low, still watching you.

You smiled in return, meeting his eyes again. You didn’t expect a man like him to have asked for help, let alone thank you with such sincerity. “Of course.” You said brightly but your insides were melting. You needed a distraction. “You know what?” You looked at Minho. “I think it’s coffee time, again.”

————————————

The two of you had been using the smaller kitchenette on your floor of the building rather the main one in the communal breakout area. You boiled the kettle and Minho spooned out more of that dreadful instant coffee. You'd lost count of the number of coffees you'd had so far tonight.

Minho screwed the lid back on the jar and turned to you, smirking. “So, y/n, tell me,” he leaned in close to your face grinning. “do you have a boyfriend?”

“What?” You shrieked. “What kind of question is that? Has no one taught you manners Mr Lee Minho.” You scowled.

Minho simply laughed. “Hey, I was only wondering if you had anyone at home who is subjected to your ridiculous dancing. That’s all.”

Your mouth hung open in disgust. “I can’t believe you’re such a shit stirrer? Can’t you just let it go about my dancing? Please?” You attempted to playfully punch him in the chest, but Minho was too quick. He grabbed your wrist, moving it back to your side, and gently pressed your back against the edge of the bench.

“You’re a feisty one, aren’t you, kitten?” Not that word again? He stood so close you thought he was about kiss you. His eyes were fixed on your lips, like he needed to taste them. But then he pulled away at the last second to finish making the coffees like nothing had happened. You shook your head to try and bring yourself back to reality. Did you just hallucinate? Was he playing some weird game with you? Was he interested in you?

“Let’s go get this finished, yeah?” he called over his shoulder as he headed back to the office holding the coffees.

What the actual fuck just happened?

———————————-

You continued to work on the report deep into the night. Every now and then you could feel Minho’s eyes drift over to you and linger for far longer than they should. It made you feel self-conscious, and lose focus on the task at hand. Please don’t look at me like that, you thought and swallowed hard. When you felt he wasn’t watching you, you would steal a glance at his toned arms, licking your lips at the sight of the protruding veins in his forearms and hands. It kept on happening, this back and forth between you.

“Oh my God! I think we’re finally done!” Your face lit up. You jumped out of your seat and held up her hands for Minho to high five. Minho appeared more relieved than excited, but he obliged in returning your gesture by slapping his hands against yours.

“I need more coffee.” You slumped back down in your chair and looked longingly into your empty coffee cup.

Minho opened his desk draw and pulled out a bottle of rum along with two glasses. You raised an eyebrow. Minho scoffed at your expression, standing up and walking around to the side of the desk where you sat.

“Fuck!” You checked the time on your phone. “It’s four o’clock!”

“It’s too late for coffee. Here.” He stated holding a glass out for you, then filled your cup. He took his own empty cup and the bottle of rum over to the two seater sofa at the other end of his office. You felt his gaze still on you as he sighed and relaxed into the cushion.

He filled his own cup, then plonked the bottle on the coffee table and slouched back into the sofa. His long fingers loosened his tie further and then he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt with one hand, revealing part of his chest.

The entire time he stared at you with an expression that made your stomach flip and desire pool between your legs. You couldn’t break from his gaze. Fuck. He looked like he wanted to eat you. His parted lips making you part yours too, as intrusive thoughts of what it might feel like to kiss him entered your mind.

He patted the cushion next to him “y/n, come sit with me.”

“I’m quite fine. Thank you.” You coughed.

Minho shrugged as if to say “Oh well, whatever”, and took a swig of his drink and leaned back and closed his eyes. Was he waiting for you to go sit next to him?

You screwed up your nose. He could’ve tried harder to convince you, you huffed to yourself.

He opened his eyes again locking them with yours once more, and then cocked his head to side gesturing for you to come and sit next to him.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine.” You got up and went and sat on his left, leaning the side of your body against the back of the sofa so you faced Minho.

“You know, it’s against the company rules to keep alcohol in your desk draw?” You eyed him quizzically.

“What? Does it really surprise you that I have this?” he took a sip of his drink and paused in thought as he studied his glass. “You know, I rarely drink to be honest. I only have one of these a week.” He said flatly looking into his cup.

You secretly felt relieved. Minho’s eyes narrowed as he tried to read your expression. “You really are surprised.” He repeated incredulously and put the glass on the table.

You snapped out of your thoughts. “Oh! Yes. Well…I thought accountants didn’t break rules, you know. I didn’t know they were capable of it, actually.” You teased.

Minho leaned forward into your personal space, his face merely inches from yours. “Accountants are capable of a lot of things.” He whispered low looking you up and down greedily, and placed his hand on your knee.

Your eyes flickered down to where Minho’s hand was on your leg and then quickly looked back up, horrified. “What? So they’re capable of workplace harassment are they?” You spoke sternly, but inside you were actually a puddle.

Minho threw his hands up in an I-mean-no-harm kind of way and sat up.

But you were intrigued, and feeling flirty. Minho was an attractive man. He wasn’t nearly as difficult as people led you to believe. Plus, it was the dead of night. That time of night where it doesn’t feel like reality. Maybe you could try something?

“Minho?”

“Yes kitten?” Oh sweet Lord. You felt ashamed at what that pet name did to your body. Your stomach dropped. You felt a another rush of arousal head south, and you swore to God you just soaked your panties. You were fucked, and you knew it.

“Hmm?” he prompted you to continue.

With as much fake confidence as possible you continued. “Show me what accountants are capable of then.” You sighed.

A triumphant smirk appeared across his face. Oh he likes this challenge, does he? You thought.

Minho’s hand was back on your leg, this time a little higher up your thigh, and his other arm gripped you by the chin tilting your head up so you were looking him dead straight in the eye.

“Are you sure you can handle it? Kitten?” his voice was deadly. His mouth a centimetre from yours. You could feel his warm breath against your lips.

“Oh trust me, I can handle it.” You dared him. Both his hands came to rest on either side of your neck, his thumbs grazing your jawline. “We’ll see.” He said and closed his eyes and took you in a deep, hungry kiss.

Your body was on fire. Minho’s mouth hot and hungry as his tongue quickly found yours. He pulled back checking in on you with his eyes. “You’re so fucking beautiful, kitten. You make me want to do bad things to you.” He gently kissed your collarbone and licked his way up to your ear. “Will you let me, kitten?” he whispered.

You didn’t know what Minho had in mind. What he meant by ‘bad things’. You didn’t know, but you wanted to find out. “Yes, Lee Minho. This kitten will let you do bad things to her.” You whispered back as adrenaline and desire overtook you.

Minho leaned back and smirked. “I want you to strip for me.” His hand skimmed over your breast and down your waist, resting on your hip. “I wanna see what’s underneath these clothes.”

Your eyes widened. “Like right here? Right now?”.

Minho nodded. “Yes, right now.”

You bit your lower lip and sat up to kick off your shoes. You downed your rum in one go and slowly stood. You were nervous about what you had just agreed to. You definitely didn’t feel like the seductive type, how on earth were you going to strip for him?

Minho leaned back into the sofa, legs spread wide and an obvious bulge where he was sporting an erection. You gulped. He was staring at you with such a hunger that you honestly thought he was actually going to eat you. His almost black eyes drifted down your body as though he was imagining what you tasted like.

Nervously, your hands found their way to your blouse, shaking fingers began to unbutton your shirt. One. Two. Three buttons, and your purple lace bra was revealed.

“Purple. My favourite, Kitten. How’d you know?” he growled.

“Lucky guess.” You raised an eyebrow. Minho let out a gasp when you finished undoing all the buttons and slowly pulled the shirt off your shoulders, dropping it to the floor.

“The skirt.” Minho stated impatiently. His hand palming himself through his black slacks.

You were beginning to enjoy how Minho was responding to you. He seemed to be slowly losing his composure and it made you feel powerful and sexy. “You want this off too, do you?” you teased.

“Fuck yes.” He hissed.

As you unbuttoned your skirt, Minho unbuttoned his pants, and as you slowly pulled your skirt down over your hips, Minho released his cock. His eyes were fixed on your matching purple lace panties. Your eyes landed on his dick, making your core ache with need. You stepped out of your skirt and stood there, waiting for instructions.

“Come kneel down in front of me.” His voice was raspy with desire. You didn’t hesitate. He placed a throw cushion on the carpet and you positioned yourself between his legs. He leaned forward taking you in a heated kiss, plastering saliva all over your lips and face, then he peeled away panting and leaned his forehead against yours.

“I’m going to let you to suck my cock in a minute. But first,” he kissed your forehead. “I want to touch you for a little bit. If you want to stop at any point, use the word ‘podcast’… otherwise, I keep going. And you keep taking it.”

You let out a moan as his hands came to rest on either side of your neck again. You felt so vulnerable in his large, strong hands. Keeping one hand clasped around your neck, Minho’s other hand traced along the top of your bra. You shivered at how gentle and tender his touch was. He cupped your breast and let out a low groan as he squeezed the flesh. You kept still for Minho, you loved this feeling of him taking control like this. You watched his expression as he explored your body. His mouth hung agape and his greedy eyes made you feel desired.

Minho’s grip on your neck tightened slightly while his other hand made it’s way down towards your panties, pausing just before he actually got there. “Let’s see how wet you are for me, hmm?”

You felt Minho’s finger expertly move your panties to one side and slide up between your lips. You moaned at the pressure and how smoothly his fingers slid through your labia. Liquid heat filled your body, and you closed your eyes, losing yourself to the pleasure.

“Look at me.” Minho demanded softly. You opened your eyes and looked at him. “You’re pussy’s so wet. You’re cunt’s already ready to be filled isn’t it?”

You swallowed and nodded. “Yes!” you squeaked. Minho’s hand gripped tighter, almost restricting your airflow. “That’s 'yes Sir' to you.” And he plunged two fingers into you.

You felt like you were going to drip your arousal all over the cushion. You had no idea that you enjoyed this kind of dynamic, but you were loving every second of it. You could feel that an orgasm was building rapidly as Minho dug his curled fingers against your g-spot. You were getting closer, your hips automatically seeking friction against his hand. He removed his fingers and placed one in his mouth, making you cry in agony. “You taste so good. Here.” He shoved his fingers into your mouth. “Suck them clean, kitten.” He bit into his lip as he concentrated on your mouth as you sucked your own juices off his fingers. “I need you to suck my cock now.” He finally let go of your neck.

“Show me how much you can take, Kitten.” He moaned as you set to work on his cock. You teased him for a little while. A kitten lick here, a swirl of the tongue there, licking a long stripe from the base of his cock to the tip. When you could tell he was getting impatient you finally took him in your mouth.

“Ahhhh… yes Kitten. Like that. Good girl.” He moaned loudly. “Fuck your mouth feels good.” You quickly built up a slow and steady rhythm, combining your hand and mouth to work his entire cock. He had the prettiest cock you'd ever seen. Decent size, perfect thickness, and the veins made you clench your vagina with need. You were hungry for his cock, greedy even. You took him as far back into your throat as you possibly could, trying your hardest not to gag.

“That’s it sweetheart… Mmmm… Show me how much you love cock.” He thread his fingers through your hair and pushed down on the back of your head, forcing more of his cock into your mouth. You couldn’t help but make a choked, gagging sound. You worried that Minho would be turned off by the sounds of you struggling, but he seemed to enjoy it even more. “Ahhh… fuck…that’s it…take it.” He groaned.

You could feel tears escape your eyes, no doubt making your mascara smear and run down your cheeks. It was probably just the way he liked it. Noisy. Messy. Dirty.

“What I want you to do now is take off your underwear for me.” You made to release his cock. “Na-uh. You keep my cock in your mouth.” He said sternly.

It was awkward, but somehow you managed to slip off your panties and unclasp your bra, tossing them to the side whilst Minho forced your head down almost the entire length of his penis.

“Okay. You can stop for now.” He patted your head, urging you to lift your head. “Fuck, you’re even prettier with your make up all over your face and dribble all down your chin.” He kissed you again, this time deep and slow. “How are you so perfect?” he whispered and gently closed his eyes for a moment.

He opened them once again, lust in his eyes and with one hand he lifted his loosened tie over his head and straight over yours, slipping it around your neck. You gasped as he turned the tie so it was backwards around your neck, and pulled it tight so that when he was finished it resembled a collar and leash.

Your eyes widened in anticipation as you met Minho’s eyes. He looked deranged and you swore you saw him snarl. “Kneel on the couch. Lean on the armrest.” He instructed with a raspy voice.

You climbed onto the couch and positioned yourself exactly how he wanted you. Exposed, vulnerable and restrained.

“Don’t fucking move an inch. I’m just grabbing a condom.” He got up from the couch and rid himself of his clothes. You watched him as he sauntered naked over to his desk to find his wallet, pulling a condom from it. The man look like a fucking god. You couldn’t wait for him to fuck you.

You felt him come up behind you, but instead of penetrating you, he laid on the couch so that his face was underneath you. “Sit on my face. I wanna taste you.” He pulled your hips down so you were literally sitting on his face, his tongue immediately found your entrance, sending electricity through your body. The bridge of his nose perfectly positioned to apply pressure to you clit. You ground down against his face while holding onto the chair arm for dear life. You worried maybe you would suffocate him, but he gripped your thighs and pulled you down harder whilst he pushed his tongue inside of you as far as he could reach.

Your lower body tensed, your legs became unstable, your mind was soaring in pleasure. “I’m gonna come, Minho… Sir… I’m fuck-“ You cried out as your orgasm hit. Your thighs trembled, your vagina clenched and released involuntarily, tears ran down your cheeks and whimpers flowed out of your mouth. Minho hummed against your core as you rode out your orgasm.

He supported your legs as you lifted off his face and returned to an all four’s position. “You taste so fucking incredible, kitten.” You turned to see his face covered in your wetness, a stupid fucked out grin on his face.

“Turn back around” he nodded his head directing you to face straight ahead while he positioned himself behind you. A tear of the condom wrapper and a moment later you felt him rub the head of his cock against your clit.

Then, holding onto the his necktie that was around your neck he pushed his length into you, stretching you open, filling you completely.

Minho’s exhalation was more a hiss, the tightness of your cunt affecting him. “Fuck, y/n… kitten… fuck you feel good”. He withdraw almost the whole way, then slammed back into you with so much force you cried out. “That’s so deep…ah…” you winced.

“Y/n, I know you can take it for me. A good little girl like you, I bet you can take a whole lot more than you’re letting on.” He slammed into you again. He let go of the tie to grip your hips instead. He needed to hold you still so you couldn't wiggle away when he pushed hard against your cervix. “Use your safe word if you need it, kitten.” He reminded you, giving you an option to stop. But every deep thrust was bringing you closer to another climax. Every impact of his cock against your cervix turning into a deeper pleasure. You didn’t want to ever stop.

“Is this what you wanted when you were watching me in the meeting?” He accused. “Or when you dancing so fucking slutty in your office? Do you know hard it was for me to not walk straight in and rip your clothes off?” He growled increasing his pace.

“I’m close…Minho.” You panted.

“Ya! It’s Sir, remember?" He dug his fingers into your flesh and delivered an even harder thrust.

“Sir!!!” You cried. “Can I come again? Please?” You were desperate now. You felt pathetic but loving every second of what was happening.

Minho pulled out of you entirely, flipping you over onto your back. He carefully, gently even, removed the tie from your neck then kissed you. You could taste yourself on him and you moaned at how erotic this entire encounter felt.

He pinned your legs up, almost folding you in half, and locked eyes with you as he sunk back into you. He leaned over so your faces were close, and brought a hand up to stroke your cheek. His eyes drifted from your eyes and your mouth like he couldn’t decide where to settle his gaze.

“I want us to be kissing while we both come.” He whispered softly. You searched his eyes, surprised by his sudden tenderness.

“Would that be okay, kitten? You think you’ll be able to come with my cock deep inside your cunt, and my tongue shoved down your throat?” His words were so dirty, but his tone was gentle.

“Yes, Sir.” You whispered.

Minho smirked and dove into your mouth with a wild frenzy, while he started to snap his hips against you. With angle of his dick hitting you in just the right spot, you dug your nails into his back causing him to cry out into your mouth. You smiled against him, knowing how you were driving him wild.

Minho slowed his assault on your mouth, allowing the kiss to morph into something more delicate. He rolled his hips as he thrust into you creating a different sensation to what you'd felt so far. His slow, rhythmic, deep thrusts coupled with the sensuality of the kiss threw you over the edge. You saw stars as your walls pulsed around his cock. You cried into his mouth and he groaned into yours as his hips hips stuttered and he filled the condom.

He remained inside you as he propped himself up on his elbows, and just watched you for a long moment.

“What is it?” You broke the silence. A warm smile spread over his face. “I’m relieved.”

Your eyes narrowed. “About what?”

“That you didn’t use your safe word.” He said. “I guess part of me was worried that I’d be too much.” He lowered his head.

“Minho,” You lifted his chin so you could see his face. “I’d never…had that kind of sex before.”

“I didn’t scare you did I?” His smile turned to concern. You shook your head. “I liked it.”

“Thank fuck.” He chuckled. “I’m not sure how I’d be able to show my face in front of you again if I I scared you…or hurt you?”

Minho withdrew his softened cock, and removed and tied off the condom.

“I need to get dressed.” You lifted your head to locate your clothes.

“Shhh… it’s okay. Don’t get up, I’ll get them.” He soothed. He helped you get dressed, slipping your panties and skirt back on. “I need you to sit up just for second.”

You silently obeyed, sitting up so he could help you put your bra back on and button up your blouse for for. “Lay back down. There’s still a couple of hours before work starts. Sleep.” He stroked your arm and got up, returning to cover you with his work jacket.

You wanted nothing more than to snuggle up to him, but he was gone and you were asleep within a minute.

———————-

The next morning you sat at the conference table alongside Hyunjin, Binnie and Felix ready for another staff meeting. A hum of various conversations filled the room, while you waited for the meeting to commence.

“Hey y/n, weren’t you wearing that outfit yesterday?” asked Binnie looking you up and down.

You looked down at your clothes. You were a wreck. You didn’t even make it home last night. Putting the report back together took hours, and then, well. Oh fuck! You hung your head as you thought about the hot sex you had with Minho, on his office couch.

You went on to explain what happened the night before. The report, the sleeping at the office. You left out the sleeping with a co-worker part.

“That’s really odd. So he just found the report like that on his desk?” said Hyunjin. You nodded.

“Maybe it was a ploy to get you alone in his office.” Binnie poked, causing you to turn beet red.

“Nah. I don’t think so.” was Felix’s reply. The boys glared at him. “No, y/n. I didn’t mean it like that. You are beautiful and kind… It’s just…” Felix gestured for the others to lean in closer. He looked around the room and continued in a hushed tone “There have been some weird things happening here.” He looked around the room once more, ensuring no one was eavesdropping. “Seungmin in HR says that his files for the productivity report for the accounts section had been mixed up. Like someone had gone in and moved things around.”

Hyunjin laughed. “Come on, are you serious?”

“I am. Seungmin got in trouble for it, and because he couldn’t explain what had happened he was blamed for being careless. He’s spewing.”

“Hmmm.” Binnie appeared to be deep in thought, staring off. “Seungmin is meticulous. OCD style.” he paused while he was deciding what it all meant “I think it sounds fishy, Felix.” He concluded.

Felix pointed his finger at Binnie “Exactly!”

You took a sip of your espresso coffee. Your third of the day so far. It didn’t make any sense. Why would anyone bother to be so petty as to mix up files, tamper with reports?

Just then Minho entered the conference room. Your heart skipped a beat. He looked dreadful too, his shirt still crumpled, his hair disheveled. Just having him in the same room as you made you feel nervous. To counteract how awkward you felt, you focused on the picture on the side of your coffee cup.

Felix leaned in to say something in Hyunjin’s ear, and then they both turned to you and looked you up and down.

You scowled at the pair and turned your attention back to the coffee cup. You hadn’t quite told your friends every detail of last night. You weren't going to tell them about how nervous you felt in the kitchenette making instant coffee with him. Or how he stood awfully close to you, calling you “kitten”. Or how you stripped for him before he fucked you on the couch. You felt yourself clench at the memory of his perfect cock inside of you.

You stole a quick look over at Minho at the front of the room. He was watching you, as though he could read your mind. You drew in a quick breath and felt your cheeks burn. Come on y/n, act professional.

———————————————

It was two in the afternoon and you were struggling to keep your mind focused. You poked at your computer keyboard trying to look busy, but you were fading away.

“You should just go home.” Binnie said from his desk.

“I know, but…” you shrugged. You didn’t want to go home. You wanted to see if Minho would reach out and speak to you about last night. Was it meant to be a one time thing never to speak of again? Was he expecting to do it again? Were you supposed to go talk to him? Thoughts of self doubt and confusion swirled around your tired head.

“Knock knock.”

The three of you looked up. Minho.

“Um… Hi.” You squeaked. Hyunjin licked his lips excitedly. Anyone would have thought it was Hyunjin Minho had fucked.

“I was just going to go down to the cafe, and wondered if you wanted to join me…maybe talk?” he scratched his head as though he was nervous.

----

“So…” Minho sat across from you in the cafe downstairs. “I want to make sure you’re okay. After last night.” He said.

You took a deep breath, avoiding his eyes, but you knew he was watching you.

“Y/n?” Minho urged. “I need to know if what we did was okay?” You slowly looked up and met his eyes. There was concern behind them. He actually cared how you were feeling? What could you possibly say when you didn’t know how he felt about it? You didn’t want to presume anything and you didn’t want to look like a silly, desperate fool.

“I fucked up didn’t I?” he concluded from your silence. “I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat and looked around the cafe.

“Minho, no!” You finally spoke. He returned his attention back to you. “You didn’t fuck up.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and ran his fingers through his hair.

“And I’m okay. Tired,” You laughed dryly “but… I enjoyed what happened.” A flicker of excitement flashed in his eyes. “Um…so yeah. I’m okay if we happen to do that again.” Oh fuck what did you just say? “I mean, either way, whether it happens again - or not - I’m okay.” You touched your cheek. You felt so flustered.

“I’d like it to happen again.” He said seriously, looking directly into your eyes.

You froze. “You would?”

He nodded. “Yeah I would, Kitten.”

———————————

You and Minho saw a lot of each other in the workplace. You'd make excuses to visit each other’s office, bringing the other coffee and sneaking little kisses in. Sometimes you'd do more, like the blowjob you gave him at his desk, or a quickie in the small kitchenette. He’d locked the door behind him, and took you from behind. He’d had a condom ready, and all he needed to do was lift your skirt up and pull your panties to side. You were ready for him. You always were. Just the thought of Minho made you wet and horny. You gripped the side of the kitchenette sink as he stretched you wide open and fucked you hard. Then he’d kiss you softy like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

Hyunjin would watch you suspiciously whenever you returned to your desk after a lengthy “short break”.

“You’re skirt’s crooked, girl.” He’d say and Binnie would roll his eyes.

Minho continued to call you “Kitten” in the hallway, smirking at how easily he could make you blush, and he’d undress you with his eyes in staff meetings, causing you to squirm in your seat.

You got to know each other in lunch breaks, sometimes chatting in the cafe, other times in the breakout area. You learned he came from SKZ’s rival company, that he volunteered several hours a week to some program, and he loved cats. But more importantly, you learned he was a kind person who seemed to have the best intentions for those around him.

You shared with him your love of podcasting and how you would use the company’s equipment for your own podcast. You made him promise he wouldn’t listen to it to, but you didn’t trust the look on his face.

It was truly a whirlwind office romance, and you felt yourself feeling happy for the first time in a long time. Maybe you were finally moving on with your life?

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