#hello first time caller I hope you enjoyed!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 10 months ago

Text

Enchanted to Meet You - Colin Bridgerton

A/N: I am so hype for the new season, and Colin isn't even my favorite Bridgerton sibling. When I was thinking of who should get Enchanted, I knew the story had to happen at a beautiful ball, so really this was one of the only choices. (There may be more Enchanted inspired fics, who's to say!) Hope you enjoy!

TS Prompt #6: Enchanted

Pairing: Colin Bridgerton x Reader Word Count: 3.0k Synopsis: After years of knowing, and not liking each other, Colin and the reader meet again at a ball, and share a magical evening together.

"Isn't that your second glass?" Eloise asks, a glass of champagne in her own gloved hand.

"No. It's my third," you say. She doesn't even try to hide the un-ladylike snort she lets out.

"I thought your mother said one."

"She did," you say, peering about the crowded ballroom for her deep red dress. "But, as this is my third ball of the season, I thought it only fitting."

"I'm sure she'll see it that way, too," Eloise says sarcastically.

It was true, this was your third ball, but the three glasses of champagne didn't really have anything to do with that. The matching numbers did add some kind of magic to the night, but truly, you just needed them to get through the evening.

It was your first year out, and after three balls, you weren't sure you would ever find someone to marry. It wasn't like you hadn't had callers. You had blossomed in the last year. So much so, that people often did a double take when they looked upon you. It wasn't so much that they weren't interested in you, but that you weren't in them.

This evening was looking to be another night of forcing laughter and faking smiles with men you had no interest in. The thought of another glass of champagne was too enthralling.

"I don't believe it," Eloise says, leaving your side. You watch her nearly run across the ballroom, and run into the arms of a man. When they break away, you see it is Colin, returned from his travels around the world.

It is hard to believe, but he has become more handsome, in his travels. You spent years and years at the Bridgerton household, and never found Colin anything other than annoying. He was the brother closest in age to Eloise, and he spent most of his time picking on the two of you.

But walking towards you now is a man. A very handsome man, whose smile seems to make your insides melt. You think you might melt, too, as he walks up to you.

"Have we met?" he says, taking your hand in his.

"Are you joking?" you ask, watching as he places a soft kiss to your gloved hand. "Colin, it's me."

"Y/N?" he asks quietly, his brow furrowed as he studies your face.

"Of course it's Y/N, you idiot," Eloise says, slapping his arm.

"You . . . you look completely different," he says.

"Bad different?"

"No, no, not bad at all," he says. He stares at you for a moment longer, seemingly speechless.

"Oh cut it out, will you?" Eloise says, "Both of you are staring like you've never seen the other before."

"Well, he looks different, too," you say, "A good different," you add, looking to him. He smiles, his mouth turned up to one end in playful amusement.

"Eloise, I hope you do not mind if I ask Miss Y/L/N to dance," he says. Eloise begins to say she does mind, but your mind is only on Colin as you drop your hand into his.

You are trembling as he leads you out onto the dancefloor. You have danced this dance hundreds of times before, and have done so to this exact song at the previous two balls. But now, the man in front of you is Colin, and that makes it completely new.

When he pulls you into his arms, your chests a touch closer than societally acceptable, you aren't breathing.

"Hello," he says softly.

"Hello," you say, as the music begins around you. Your moves are instinctual, as you let him lead you into the dance. He is still studying you, his eyes on every angle of your face. You laugh at his ministrations.

"What?" he asks.

"You act as if you don't know me."

"Well, I don't."

"I've spent nearly every summer at the Bridgerton household."

"No, that was Eloise's annoying childhood friend, that wasn't you," he says, his eyes locking on yours.

"Well, it has been a while since we've seen each other. And I have changed."

"I can tell," he says deeply. Goosebumps appear along your neck, and you watch his eyes track them.

"You've changed, too," you say, "Traveling agrees with you."

"Thank you," he says. He spins you out of his arms and back in. "How are you enjoying your first season?"

"Truthfully, it has been pretty boring so far."

"Boring?" he asks in surprise. "Don't tell me you've been a wallflower."

"Oh, on the contrary, everyone seems to notice how much I've changed," you say with a grin, making him laugh, "It's just, I haven't found their company as agreeable."

"And how about my company?" he asks, his voice quiet again.

"I'm not sure yet," you say thoughtfully, studying his face. "But so far, you are certainly a far better dancer than any of the other men I've danced with."

"Really? I'm honored."

The music comes to an end, and both of your hands linger for a moment longer on the other. The dancefloor starts to shift as couples enter and leave. You are supposed to be dancing with Lord Charmbord for the polka.

"Care to have some more fun?" Colin asks.

"What?"

"If you don't mind leaving Lord . . ." he trails off as he touches your wrist again, glancing at your dance card. "Lord Charmbord in the lurch, I'd be happy to prove that my company is much more enjoyable," he says. There is mischief in his eyes, and you know you will go wherever he wants you to.

"Where to?" you ask.

"Meet me at the fork in the gardens," he whispers in your ear, as he walks past you casually. Again, the goosebumps appear.

You walk off the dancefloor, keeping your head down so that no one, especially Lord Charmbord or your mother, see you slip out onto the terrace.

There are a few couples lingering out on the balcony, but they are too involved in their conversations to notice you move down the steps to the garden. You move silently as you look around for Colin, or anyone else.

Scandal would be sure to follow you if anyone were to catch you out here, but you can't bring yourself to care right now. This is the first time all season that you have felt anything, and you aren't going to let it go.

As you round a bend in the gardens, hands grab your waist and you nearly scream out. Quickly, though, Colin turns you around and reveals himself. You clutch a hand to your pounding heart.

"You frightened me," you say.

"I'm sorry," he says, laughter still in his eyes.

"No, you aren't," you say with a laugh.

"No, I'm not. But I am glad you met me here."

"Well, I was promised good company,” you say. Colin straightens, a smirk on his face, as he extends his arm to you.

“A promise I intend to make good on.” He leads you deeper into the maze like garden, as if he has explored it before. Before you can ask, he says, "You know, I used to play with the lord's son when we were kids. He knew where all of the hiding spots were in here, and challenged me to hunt him down. It took a few years, but I was eventually able to find all of his spots, and a few of my own."

"So if I asked you to hide right now . . ."

"You would not find me."

"You assume so little about my seeking skills?" you joke.

"No, just that my hiding ones are much more polished."

"Ah. Well, I should hate for us to have to split up, anyhow."

"As would I. You know, I still can't truly believe that you're you."

"I really haven't change, Mr. Bridgerton," you say.

"No?" he asks, looking you over thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps I have."

"You have."

"How so?" he asks, a small smile on his face. You look him over for a long moment before smiling back.

"You've gotten taller," you say. Colin lets out a tut of laughter.

"Indeed."

"But, I'm sure it's also your travels that are to blame for the man I met tonight."

"I would agree with that estimate," he says, "I learned a lot during my journeys that I am not sure I would have ever discovered at home."

"I can't help but feel envious," you say, "I've always wanted to travel, too."

"Really? Where to?" he asks.

"Anywhere, truthfully. But I've always been fascinated by Florence."

"It is truly gorgeous," he says with a nod.

"You've been?"

"I have. They have absolutely the best food of any of the places I've been. But what's more is they even have the best dances."

"The best dances?"

"Yes, they've taken our plain old quadrille and changed it into something magical," he says. He seems to notice the excitement in your eyes, because his smile only grows. "I couldn't help but notice that you're an accomplished dancer."

"Oh, please," you say, self-depreciatingly, "I'm passable, but certainly wouldn't call myself accomplished."

"I had no complaints," he says softly. He waits for you to give him a smile before continuing. "And if you spent one day in Florence, I know you would out dance every woman in there."

"They are truly that good?" you ask.

"Would you like me to show you?" he asks. He has come to a stop in the center of the gardens. A large fountain trickles softly behind him, the air moist with the shooting spouts. You study him for a moment, waiting for him to say he was joking, to turn back to the Colin you had known.

"Are you serious?" you ask.

"Of course," he says, holding out his hand.

"There's no music."

"You don't need to hear the music to feel it," he says, taking your hand in his and pulling you in close. "Just follow along. It's got the same steps as the quadrille you know, but with a little more movement."

You nod your head and focus on the moves. Without music playing, it is a little harder to get into the rhythm, but he is correct, after a few steps, you can feel the music echoing inside of you.

His hand on your waist presses slightly, making your hips move more fluidly. You are certain if anyone were to see, it would mean scandal, but you cannot fight the smile growing on your face. Again, he shows you how to add more movement into a step, bringing the two of you closer again.

You have danced through one whole song in your head, and you don't want to stop anytime soon. Never in your life before have you danced like this. You feel so free, so graceful. And it is at this feeling, that you trip on an upturned stone and crash into Colin's arms.

The music has stopped playing in your mind. There is only the soft sound of water, the trill of crickets, and your pounding heart.

You have never been this close to a man. Your chest is flush against his. You can feel his breath, and watch as he looks down, too, at your bodies pressed together.

His eyes catch yours and everything seems to slow. There is only his warm brown eyes, locked onto your own, and the hand on your back that moves softly, comfortingly.

"Colin," you whisper. He smiles widely.

"I like when you say my name."

"I've said it a million times before," you say with a laugh.

"You've never said it like that."

"We should be heading back," you say. The hand on your back grows firmer, like he would do anything to keep you against him.

"No one knows we're out here," he says.

"My mother will come looking soon."

"Y/N," he whispers, his head ducking so that his words dance over your neck. You shiver slightly, and his smile only grows.

"I see what you mean," you say, looking back up at him, "I like the way you say my name, too." The look on his face is purely prideful.

"Don't go back inside," he says.

"We'll both be ruined."

"What if I don't care?" he asks.

"You do care," you say gently, "And so do I."

"Perhaps you're right."

"I am right, Colin," you say, beginning to pull away. He pulls you back in and your lips are a breath from his. His eyes flicker between your own and your lips, that are practically begging to be kissed. Your eyes close, against your better instinct, and you lean in.

Snap!

In an impossibly quick moment, Colin has pushed you out of his arms and ducked into an alcove of the garden. You wait for someone to appear, for your reputation to be ruined, but no one comes. Another minute passes and Colin comes out.

"Perhaps, you should get back inside, Y/N."

"Where did you run off to?" you ask, jumping again at his appearance. Before he can answer, you sigh. "Right," you say with a laugh.

"Let's get you back inside," he says. "That was too close."

Colin does get you back into the ball without scandal falling on you.

When you find your mother again, her face is nearly as red as her dress. Clearly, she has not followed her own rule regarding glasses of champagne. She says that Lord Charmbord had been searching for you, but you can't even begin to pretend to care.

For the rest of the ball, your eyes are always on Colin. Unfortunately, you don't get to spend any more of the evening with him. The closest you get is a moment on the dancefloor where you briefly switch partners.

His hand meets yours at the same time his eyes do, and once again, the world around you is gone. There is only the music and his face, looking at you in a way you can't precisely name, but that you're dying to know.

But just as soon as it happens, it is over, and you are back in the arms of a man you have absolutely no interest in.

As the night comes to a close, you bid Eloise and Lady Bridgerton goodnight. You can't help peering around the both of them for Colin, but just when it appears he is not coming and you have turned towards the exit, he calls your name.

"Miss Y/L/N," he says dashingly, "I would be remiss if I didn't bid you a goodnight."

"Goodnight, Mr. Bridgerton," you say, watching as he bends down to kiss your hand. Quietly, so that only you can hear, he says, "Say it just once more, please."

"Goodnight, Colin," you whisper. When he stands up straight, he is fighting off a smile. He bids your mother goodbye, and then you are getting handed off into your carriage, and ripped away from what feels like the first real night of your life.

The ride home is quiet. You answer your mother's few questions, but when she can see you're in no mood to talk, she sinks into her own thoughts.

The countryside is dark, but as you look out upon it, you can't help but wish. Wish that this was the very first page of your story with Colin, not where your story line will end. That he was as enchanted by you as much as you were by him. And pray that he is not in love with someone else.

At home, when you finally get into bed, you are restless. You toss and turn well into the early hours, questions rolling about your mind, all about Colin.

Too early the next morning, you are awoken by a lady's maid. The day after a ball is always busy. Gentleman callers all morning, and mothers and daughters in the afternoon, to get caught up on the morning callers.

While your handmaidens go about getting you dressed and pinning your hair up, you can't help but relieve the night before. It sparkles in your mind - truly the most perfect night you could have imagined.

You pray that it is not the last, but you know that you have to remain practical. Besides the looks and smiles he gave you, Colin did not lead on that he was interested in marriage anytime soon. You, on the other hand, were very interested in getting wed off this season.

As you walk down the steps to your sitting room, you assure yourself that it will be okay, if Colin does not feel the same.

"It is too early for callers!"

At the foot of the stairs, you hear your doorman arguing in hushed tones. You can hear another voice, but not clearly enough to match the sound to its owner. Before you can open the door and find out, your mother comes bustling down the staircase and passes you.

"Who could it be at this hour!" she says, ripping open the door.

Colin Bridgerton is standing in your doorway, a bouquet of orange tulips in hand. His eyes are wide when they circle to meet yours, but then they soften.

"Y/N," he says gently. The doorman stutters a response at this lack of formality, so Colin corrects himself. "I mean, Miss Y/L/N. Mrs. Y/L/N," he says, turning to look at your mother.

"I apologize for the early arrival, but I wanted to be the first here," he says.

"The first here for what?" your mother asks in shock.

"To call upon Miss Y/L/N, of course. You see, I shared quite an exquisite time with her last night, and hope that I may spend more time in her good company."

"Really?" you and your mother ask in unison. You laugh, and feeling bold, walk towards Colin. Still keeping a respectful distance from him, knowing that your doorman was watching closely, you take the tulips from him.

"Really," he says. "I was enchanted to meet you again, Y/N. Please don't have someone waiting on you."

"Not at all," you say. "Would you like to come in for tea, Colin?"

"I would love to," he says with a grin that nearly takes your breath away.

#colin bridgerton #colin bridgerton x reader #colin bridgerton x you #colin bridgerton imagine #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fanfic #ts prompts #colin bridgerton fanfic #colin bridgerton fanfiction

935 notes · View notes

fluentmoviequoter · 7 months ago

Text

More Than Meets the Eye

Excellent idea inspired by 5x18 with Tim and his wife from @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 ! I hope you enjoy!!

This is a documentary-style fic! All scenes in italics are the interview scenes, and the non-italic portions are body cam footage, additional scenes, etc.

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!wife!reader (+ they have twins: a boy and a girl)

Summary: You and Tim go undercover as your criminal doppelgängers. When the case is turned into a documentary, the interviewer and viewers learn that there's often more than meets the eye.

Warnings: interview scenes in italics! fluff, angst, murder, credit card fraud, violence, threats, slightly suggestive in parts (bc Jake Butler) but SFW!

Word Count: 3.4k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Death, deception, and doppelgängers. When the Los Angeles Police Department responded to an urgent 911 call, no one expected what would happen next.

“911 what’s your emergency?”

“Send help! He’s- oh my lord, I don’t know- there’s blood and he… I heard a scream, but not the shot!”

“Sir, where are you?”

A single scream, no witnesses, a silent shot, and a once-in-a-lifetime interaction between suspect and officer. This is More Than Meets the Eye.

When you and Tim walk into his office, where two chairs are waiting, you’re surprised to see three people and a camera shoved into the small area behind his desk. You smile at the interviewer as you sit, and Tim waits for you to settle before he lowers beside you.

“Hello! We’ll start right away. I’ll introduce you first,” the interviewer says. “Whatever feels best, and then we’ll get into the dirty details of the case.”

“Like they’re ever clean,” you mumble.

“This is Sergeant Tim Bradford of the LAPD, and his wife-“

“Don’t do that,” Tim interrupts. “She’s not my wife in this case, she was instrumental to solving it. Use her position title.”

“My apologies.”

You send the interviewer a kind smile as your elbow taps Tim’s in thanks. Tim doesn’t really want to be here, you know that, but you appreciate him standing up for you regardless. When your introduction is complete, you straighten your shoulders as the case is introduced and travel back in time to one of the weirdest days of your life.

“Sergeant Bradford, you were the first responder at the scene. But when you returned to the station is when this case truly took its first turn, correct?”

Tim sighs before he answers, “Yes, that is when this became more than just a call for me. For all of us, really.”

“Can you tell us more about that moment?”

“I walked into an interview room and saw a guy who looked like me on the other side of the glass. There was an opportunity, and our detectives were quick to jump on it.”

“Tim, switch to a private channel,” Angela requests. “I know you’re on a Metro patrol, but dispatch just alerted us to a suspected murder. You’re nearby.”

“I’ll check it out,” Tim answers. “Did the caller give any other details?”

“One of interest. He said he heard a scream but no shot. Apparently he mentioned more than one shot suffered by the vic.”

“He heard a scream but not numerous shots?”

“That’s what the call said. He told the dispatcher a name of a neighbor who had some sort of argument with the vic yesterday, so we sent another unit to pick him up.”

“Got it.”

“Thanks, Timothy. I owe you one.”

“Just one?”

“Two baby ones. Let me know.”

Tim rolls his eyes as he sets the radio aside. He reaches the address quickly and knocks on the door. There’s no answer, even after his yelled introduction as a police sergeant. Because of the exigent circumstance and probable cause of the phone call, Tim enters the house without a warrant. Inside is a blood bath, with one body spread in the tile of the entryway. Tim alerts Angela to the dead body, and she asks him to stay close to the scene and guard it until Nyla arrives.

“But the moment she gets there, come back to the station,” Angela adds.

“10-4,” Tim replies.

He clears the house, then closes the door behind him as neighbors gather near the front yard. One neighbor tells the others about what happened, and Tim assumes he is the caller. Several minutes pass before Nyla arrives with a CSU team, and Tim waves as he returns to his shop.

When he steps into the bullpen, Angela jogs to Tim’s side.

“Don’t freak out, Tim,” she says.

“I never do,” he argues.

“This- this is different Tim. So, just consider everything before you say no.”

Angela leads him into the interview observance room. On the other side of the one-way glass is a man who strikes an uncanny resemblance to Tim.

“It’s creepy, right?” Nolan asks. “He looks just like you!”

“Why are you here?” Tim counters.

“I brought him in. His name’s Jake Butler, though I fully expected his prints would come back as a Bradford.”

“He doesn’t look that much like me,” Tim argues.

“He really does,” Angela says. “I thought it was you for a split second.”

“I agree,” Wade interjects from the open door. “But whether you can see it or not, you’ve got an opportunity here, Bradford.”

Tim looks back to the window just as Jake stands to examine his hair in the reflection. Face-to-face, Tim can see the unsettling resemblance, though it pains him to voice that aloud.

“Fine, we- there’s some things in common,” he mutters.

“I’ll take it. I want you in the room with me,” Angela responds. “Shake him a little bit and find out what he really knows.”

“He saw me and immediately asked if the victim was dead,” Nolan fills in. “And his front door had blood all over the knob.”

“I’ll try not to let your wife see the competition,” Wade jokes.

Tim rolls his eyes as he follows Angela into the interview room. Neither of them speaks before Jake sees Tim and gasps.

“Yo,” he breathes out dramatically. “Your face looks like mine, man! Hey, do you have a long-lost twin? ‘Cause I’ve always felt this connection and-“

“No,” Tim says firmly.

In another part of the station, you hear about Nolan’s arrest of a murder suspect and decide to offer your assistance to Angela. A dead body in a nice neighborhood will need a lot of hands willing to do dirty work, and that’s something you don’t mind. Nyla looks up from her computer as you approach Angela’s empty area and smiles like she knows something you don’t.

“Hey,” you greet. “I was just looking for Lopez. If you need help, let me know.”

“Oh, we do. Our suspect has an acquaintance of sorts that I think you could help us find. Come with me?” Nyla replies.

You follow her to an interview room and don’t question when she asks you to walk inside. Once the door is closed behind you, you see Tim and Angela, then-

“Baby!” the man at the table cries.

Your eyes widen as he stands and steps toward you with his arms up. Tim pushes his hand against Jake’s chest and points to his chair.

“Give us just a moment, Mr. Butler?” Angela requests.

“Why you wearing a uniform, sweets?” Jake asks you. “C’mon, don’t leave me alone in here.”

You ignore his plea to stay and follow your husband into the observation room. Looking through the window, you suppress a shiver at how eerily similar Jake Butler is to Tim.

“Baby?” Tim repeats loudly. “What was that?”

Nyla raises a tablet with the criminal file of a woman who looks nearly identical to you. The name is different, and she’s currently in holding after being arrested on a warrant for missing court.

“Jake Butler’s girlfriend. Tell me that’s not lucky,” Nyla jokes, her smile wide as she observes the concealed horror on your face.

“This is too weird,” you mumble.

“It is,” Angela agrees. She lays her hand on your shoulder and smiles before she asks, “Want to go undercover for me?”

You look at Tim, who sets his jaw and lifts one shoulder slightly. He’s letting you choose. Neither of you are undercover officers; given the situation, it’s likely the only chance you’ll have to close the case.

“Only if one of you agrees to watch the kids,” you answer. “I need someone I trust with them if I’m going to pretend to be…”

“Shop,” Nyla answers with a giggle. “And that genius in there is Dim.”

Tim drops his head as he shakes it. You understand the nicknames, especially when compared to your lookalike’s credit card fraud scheme, but it only makes this more real. You’re going undercover as another version of yourself with another version of Tim. You’ll need a lot of help to get through this case.

“Neither of you are undercover officers,” the interviewer points out. “Yet you seemed eager to be launched into a dangerous situation, even if it meant leaving your children for an indefinite period of time.”

Tim clenches his jaw, and you lay your hand on his knee, below the camera's framing.

“We’re cops,” you argue. “Every morning when we kiss our twins goodbye, we know that we’re walking into danger and risking never coming home to them. What made this moment different was that we knew the outcome. With our team behind us, we could be pulled out at any moment, and the whole ‘lookalike’ thing gave us an advantage to call more shots than most UCs.”

“We didn’t abandon our children for some crime spree through the hills. It was a job, a performance, and it had a clear end date,” Tim adds. “Being a cop is the job. Our son and daughter, though, they’re our lives and we keep that line very clear.”

“Then that must’ve made what happened next hard. If your children, your relationship, are your life… how did you turn into - um - Dim, also known as Jake Butler, and…”

“Kaylee Longworth,” you fill in.

“That’s not what you called her, is it?”

“No. She was dubbed ‘Shop.’”

“Why? Dim is a play on Sergeant Bradford’s name, and an insult to Butler’s intelligence. What’s the connection from Kaylee to Shop?”

“It rhymes with cop,” Tim answers. “And she had a shopping habit that caused her financials to take a nosedive. We never would’ve found her if she’d stopped shopping sooner.”

“How was Longworth brought into custody initially?”

“A report of a stolen credit card,” you explain. “She was arrested in a Los Angeles Victoria’s Secret for using the stolen card.”

“Okay. So, you effortlessly become Dim and Shop. Where did those parents you seem to identify as go during your escapade through the hills?”

“What are you asking?” Tim interrupts. “If we feel guilty about pretending to be other people to catch a murderer?”

“Dim and Shop was just that, an act, pretend, and keeping this city safe for our family was the only thing on our minds,” you finish.

“The act went well, didn’t it? Was there any moment where you struggled or thought you did a bit too well?”

“Both,” you and Tim answer together.

“Hey, this isn’t the minor leagues, Butler! Get your head in the game or get out of my way.”

You roll your eyes at Jake’s criminal handler as Tim tightens his grip on your hips. He presses his chest against your back and licks his lips as he smiles at the man before you.

“You try controlling yourself with a woman like this,” Tim argues. “We got it handled.”

“Got something handled,” you murmur, turning your chin over your shoulder to see Tim.

“Focus,” the man snaps. “I need ten more credit cards by tonight. If you can’t do that, then maybe you’ll have to find a new girl, Butler. Can you get that through your girl-centered mind?”

Tim straightens and steps around you. As he crowds the shorter man, he drops his voice and slaps on a fake smile that does little to hide the anger in his eyes.

“I got it, pal. We’ll get it done. And when we do, you may want to find a new way to keep me in line.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Tim wraps his arm around your shoulders and leads you out, whispering an apology as you turn a corner. It’s just a cover, you remind yourself. When Tim acts like someone you don’t know, you remember that you’re playing a part, too. This isn’t you. Though it’s hard, the case is all that matters.

“Jake,” you whisper harshly as another hand wraps around your arm.

“I got the account number,” Tim grunts. “What more do you want?”

“A promise that you’re not the one and done lucky loser you look like,” the man holding a gun against Tim’s temple answers.

“The only lucky thing about him is me,” you call. “You seriously think he can manage to fall into coincidence after coincidence? He only seems like that because that’s what he wants you to see. You can’t replace us, and you know it.”

“Oh. He’s lucky to have you, huh? Then maybe we’ll keep you here for the next score and see if Jake can deliver on his own.”

“Sure. Just make sure it’s not a man he’s ripping off.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because, like I said, I’m his luck. I can press men easier than he can, if you can understand that.”

He presses the gun harder into Tim’s skin, and you level your expression. After a moment, he drops his hand and signals for the men behind you to release you.

“Let’s go, Jake,” you say.

“Where are you going? We’ve got a casino hit tonight.”

“We’ll be back,” you promise. “I doubt a little unlucky boy like you would understand.”

“You’ve got an hour.”

“More than I need,” Tim brags.

“But all those attempts to maintain your covers together fell short,” the interviewer adds.

“How so?” you inquire.

“The interruption in the park. You were millimeters from adding another felony to the arrest when an unexpected interruption occurred.”

“You mean our kids?” Tim asks. “They came up and called me dad, and we did our jobs to maintain our covers and get our guy. So, no, it didn’t ‘fall short.’”

“What are you saying?” you question. “You want me to draw him back to a room so you can pop one in him?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. I’m sure getting men to follow you into private spaces can’t be too hard. So, lure him to my room and I’ll make sure this payday is doubled for you.”

You glance at Tim where he stands on the other side of the semi-circle of criminal conspiracy.

“Dad!” a young girl yells.

You bite your tongue when you hear the familiar voice and look over slowly to maintain your composition and cover. Your daughter stops between you and Tim, and her twin brother pauses beside you. He furrows his brows as he looks at the tattoos covering Tim’s skin but doesn’t ask.

“Dad,” she repeats. “What are you doing here?”

Your son looks up at you, but you keep your eyes on Tim. Raising your eyebrows in faux accusation, you cross your arms and ask, “You have something you want to tell me, Jake?”

Over Tim’s shoulder, you don’t see Nyla or any sign of someone who should be watching your kids.

“Yeah,” the man beside you agrees. “Do you?”

“Man,” Tim drawls. “Do I look like I have something to tell? Unless his mama didn’t do her part after I bailed out, she’s just a confused little kid.”

“She’s not confused!” your son defends. He’s a few minutes older than her, fiercely protective, and he doesn’t stand for anyone talking down to her. “You’re not being kind.”

You look at the man beside you and shrug. Someone – you and Tim – taught your children too well. Gently, you tug the back of your son’s shirt to get his attention.

“Go back to where you’re supposed to be, alright? You shouldn’t run off,” you encourage.

He nods eagerly, grabs his sister’s hand, and runs back the way they came. You watch them go up a hill, then see James meet them at the top. Jake’s handler needs a performance now, so you look at Tim and tilt your head as your smile grows. You step toward Tim, loop your arms around his neck, and push yourself against him. Tim swallows at your sudden and awkward attention but recovers quickly as his hands drop to your thighs and slide up slowly.

“You may not have anything to tell now, but… It does give me an idea,” you flirt.

Tim cocks his head to the side quickly and then angles his face toward yours. “Tell me more, baby.”

“On your own time,” the handler interrupts. “Car, now, or we miss rush hour at the casino, and you can kiss your cut goodbye just like those kids.”

In the second part of your interview, set up in your living room, the interviewer asks, “And then what happened? You arrest the handler, who turned out to be the killer after a credit card robbery gone wrong. Plus, you apprehend everyone involved in his criminal racket. But a character like Jake and Kaylee can’t just disappear, right?”

“It can,” Tim assures. “That hair grease and the tattoos washed right away. You wouldn’t be asking these questions if we were trained UCs, but we had a team walking us through every step. This wasn’t something we just threw ourselves into.”

“I understand that. You performed well and closed the case. You got your spouse and kids back as you returned to your normal lives."

"Right. The job ended, and we returned to our real lives," you agree.

“You mentioned that the roles were hard to play at times, but your attraction and obsession with Butler seemed effortless,” the interviewer says.

“What are you implying? That I developed feelings for a felon who played a role in the murder of an innocent man?” you reply incredulously. “I was playing a part.”

“Well, sure, but there was no script. Everything you did was your choice, was it not?”

“Stop,” Tim warns. “What we did had nothing to do with the real people. If you can’t see that, you’re not looking in the right place.”

“My mind was never on Butler, it was on the truth. I did what I had to and what would get us the evidence we needed,” you defend.

“Those played up moments were completely necessary in your mind then?”

“Imply that she cheated one more time and we’re done,” Tim interjects. “Ask something about the case or you can finish this documentary on your own.”

“We’ll take another look at your cover identities, then. The moment in the park with your son had to have threatened that act and your composure,” the interviewer muses, changing the subject.

You nod at Tim before you answer, “Well, sure, but police work is everything expect predictable. Things happen in police work, but the detectives and a tactical team were nearby, plus Tim was right there, so there was never a real safety concern in my mind.”

“You trust Tim that much?”

“With my life.”

“And your children’s apparently. They didn’t sign up to go undercover, so how can you justify having them in that-“

“How can you justify a question like that?" Tim interrupts.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’ve made more than enough implications. If you think that we willingly let our children stand in a dangerous moment or put them in the path of any sort of harm, then this interview is over.”

“There’s just a few-“

“We’re done. We’ve covered the case,” you agree.

The door behind you opens, and you turn quickly. You and Tim smile as you walk to greet your children, who are returning from school.

“Mom!” your son calls as he hugs your legs. “We learned about dolphins today! Did you know they can see themselves in a mirror and know that it’s them?”

“Dad!” your daughter squeals as Tim pulls her up to hug her.

“I missed you today,” he tells her. “Do you think we should just stay here and play forever?”

“No!” she says with a giggle. “You have to stop bad people and I need to go to school.”

“I’ll stay home,” your son offers.

You laugh and take his offered drawing of a dolphin. The interviewer and the camera behind you are long forgotten as you interact with your children. This moment, the real you and Tim in your own life contrasts the limited information the documentary makers have about your parenting style.

“Alright, go put your stuff away and we’ll make dinner,” Tim instructs.

“My favorite?” your daughter asks.

“No, it’s my turn!” your son argues.

“You have the same favorite.” Tim chuckles as he directs them down the hall before he turns back to the camera crew in your living room.

Your children run to their rooms, and the interviewer asks, “Just one more thing, please. Why do all of this? You aren’t specially trained or viewed as an officer who has to do this. It’s outside of your scope, so what made this case worth it?”

“Everything we did, everything we continue to do, we do out of love for our kids and our city," you answer. "No matter what you say or how you try to twist this case, we acted from our sense of duty and from love.”

“Not that you’d understand,” Tim sighs. “Being a parent, being a cop... there’s always more than what you see from the seat you’re in outside of it all.”

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x y/n #tim bradford x you #tim bradford fic #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #the rookie x reader #the rookie abc #fem!reader #requests

463 notes · View notes

atinyslittleworld · 24 days ago

Text

Practice Makes Perfect

wooyoung x f!reader

a/n: Hello everyone!! Here’s Part 2 of the “Step by Step” fic with Wooyoung! Thank you so much for all the love and support on the first part—it seriously means the world to me.

I hope u enjoy it!! Happy reading xx

Word Count: 1,277

Genre: romance, fluff, mild angst

Warnings: mild tension, none other i think

Your lips still tingled from Wooyoung’s kisses when your phone vibrated loudly on the nightstand, the harsh sound shattering the charged silence. You froze, Wooyoung’s lips hovering just inches from yours. His breath was warm on your skin, his hand still lightly resting on your waist.

The vibration came again.

Reluctantly, you turned your head toward the sound, catching sight of the caller ID on the screen. Your stomach sank.

It was him.

The guy you’d been telling Wooyoung about—the one whose flirting had made you so nervous, the one who had indirectly set all of this in motion.

Wooyoung pulled back slightly, his dark eyes flitting from your face to the phone. His hand slipped away from your waist, leaving behind a lingering warmth. “You should answer that,” he said softly, his voice calm, though his expression betrayed nothing.

Your chest tightened as you nodded, sitting up. You reached for your phone, your fingers trembling slightly as you swiped the screen and brought it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” the guy said, his voice cheerful. “I was wondering if you’d want to grab dinner later this week? Maybe Thursday?”

Wooyoung’s gaze stayed fixed on you, his expression unreadable.

“Um,” you began, trying to focus on the conversation despite the intensity of Wooyoung’s stare. “Yeah, Thursday works.”

Wooyoung’s lips twitched, a fleeting expression you couldn’t quite decipher. Then, slowly, he nodded. It wasn’t much—just a small, almost imperceptible movement—but somehow, it felt like encouragement.

“Great,” the guy said, sounding pleased. “I’ll text you the details. Looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” you replied weakly, your voice faltering. As soon as the call ended, you set your phone down, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on your chest.

The room felt stifling.

“Well,” Wooyoung said finally, leaning back on his hands. “Looks like you’ve got a date.”

“Yeah,” you murmured, avoiding his eyes.

Silence stretched between you, thick and uncomfortable. Just minutes ago, he’d been kissing you like you were the most important thing in the world. Now, he was encouraging you to go on a date with someone else.

Wooyoung stood abruptly, breaking the tension as he stretched. “Better make it a good one,” he said lightly, though his tone carried a strange edge you couldn’t quite place.

You looked up at him, searching his face for any trace of the vulnerability he’d shown earlier. But he was already turning away, heading toward his closet to grab a hoodie.

“I should go,” you said, rising to your feet and grabbing your bag.

Wooyoung glanced over his shoulder, his expression softening slightly. “See you later, Y/N.”

You nodded, forcing a small smile before slipping out the door. But as you walked home, your mind raced.

Minutes ago, Wooyoung had been kissing you like his life depended on it. Now, he was acting as if nothing had happened.

The conflicting emotions churned in your chest, leaving you feeling confused and strangely hollow.

The days leading up to your date passed in a blur. Wooyoung didn’t call or text, and every time your phone buzzed, you found yourself hoping it was him. But it never was.

And as Thursday approached, your unease only grew.

When the night finally came, you found yourself sitting across from the guy at a cozy little restaurant. He was nice—charming, even—but you couldn’t seem to focus on him.

“So, what do you do for fun?” he asked, smiling warmly as he leaned back in his chair.

“Um,” you began, your thoughts immediately drifting to Wooyoung. You thought about his laugh, his playful teasing, the way his lips had felt against yours during your so-called “lessons.”

“Y/N?” the guy prompted, looking slightly concerned.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, shaking your head as if to clear it. “I, uh, read a lot. And I like music.”

“Nice,” he said, nodding. “What kind of music?”

As he continued talking, you did your best to pay attention. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind kept circling back to Wooyoung.

Why hadn’t he reached out? Why had he acted so unaffected after everything? And why, even now, could you still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin?

By the time the date ended, you were barely holding it together. You thanked the guy politely, telling him you’d had a nice time, but as soon as you said goodbye, you found yourself heading in a completely different direction.

Toward Wooyoung’s place.

You knocked on his door, your heart pounding in your chest. A part of you wanted to turn back, but before you could, the door swung open.

Wooyoung stood there, barefoot and dressed in sweatpants and a loose hoodie, his hair slightly messy. His eyes widened when he saw you.

“Y/N?” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “What are you doing here? I thought you had a date.”

“I did,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

“And?” he prompted, crossing his arms as he leaned casually against the door.

“And I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you blurted out, the words tumbling from your lips before you could stop them.

His eyebrows shot up, and for a moment, he just stared at you.

“I couldn’t focus on him or anything he was saying,” you continued, your voice growing steadier. “All I could think about was you. The way you kissed me. The way I felt when I was with you. And…” You hesitated, your heart hammering in your chest. “I think I have feelings for you, Woo.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Finally, a slow smirk spread across Wooyoung’s face, his cocky confidence returning. “Thank god,” he said, stepping closer.

“What?” you asked, blinking up at him.

“If you’d come back here saying the date went well, I would’ve had to beat that guy up at some point,” he said casually, though the possessiveness in his tone was unmistakable.

Before you could respond, he wrapped his arms around you, lifting you effortlessly off the ground.

“Wooyoung!” you squeaked, your hands flying to his shoulders for support.

He just grinned, kicking the door shut behind him as he carried you to the couch. Sitting down with you in his lap, he looked up at you with that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Took you long enough to figure it out,” he teased, his hands resting on your waist.

“Shut up,” you muttered, though your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

He tilted his head, his gaze softening. “You’re really into me, huh?”

“Maybe,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with something you couldn’t quite name. “Because I’m definitely into you.”

Before you could respond, his lips were on yours, soft and insistent.

This kiss wasn’t like the ones you’d shared before.

This wasn’t practice.

This wasn’t a lesson.

This was Wooyoung, kissing you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Your hands slid into his hair as you kissed him back, the weight of your earlier confusion melting away. Every touch, every kiss, every breath felt electric, igniting something deep inside you.

Wooyoung’s hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. His lips moved against yours with a perfect rhythm, and when his tongue brushed yours, it sent a shiver down your spine.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that, tangled together on his couch, kissing like your lives depended on it. But eventually, Wooyoung pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath warm and uneven.

“I’m really glad you came back,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

“Me too,” you whispered, your heart still racing.

#ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez #jung wooyoung #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung imagines #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung imagines #wooyoung

169 notes · View notes

walpu · 11 months ago

Note

Hello, first of all i want to say i really like your work and your writings 💞 Can i request some sickness headcanons with Aventurine when dating reader? Preferably hcs about how he would act if he was the one sick, and if the reader was sick. Thank you!

Thank you so much 🥹

Hope you'll enjoy it!

sickness headcanons with Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, hurt/comfort, no beta

I think Aven has a weak immune system due to the hardships he faced as a child. It's quite easy for him to catch a cold even if the weather is nice.

Hates it with a burning passion.

I mean it always sucks to be sick but he hates it for a bunch of other reasons as well.

It's time-consuming and he's a busy person, that's what he tells everyone.

And while it's true, the main reason is that he simply hates being so weak and vulnerable.

He has a private doctor who treats him but Aven doesn't fully trust them either.

He usually just takes his meds and tries to walk it off. Not like he can afford to take a day-off anyway.

When the two of you start dating and you notice that he doesn't feel well, he would try to brush it off. No big deal, baby. Just a bit tired. If we cuddle I'll get better <З

He trusts you, he truly does. However, it doesn't mean he wants you to see him miserable, weak and with a red stiffy nose. He doesn't like this image of himself so what if you won't like it either?

If he has a fever he will try to distance himself from you. Doesn't want you to get seek as well, he truly doesn't wish to be a cause of your discomfort.

Plus, what good can he give you when he's like that anyway? A bit off-topic but I just keep thinking about his "you can use me however you want me even betray me <З" line and his lunar new year card where he's like "yeahhh if you spend the day with me you'll be lucky for the rest of the year soooo" babygirl i promise you don't need to bribe me or be convenient just to have some company

Would never refuse your care though. Simply can't do it, he's a weak weak man. May whine a bit at the beginning, trying to convince you that this is not necessary, but as soon as you sooth him and maybe kiss his forehead he gives up completely.

Suddenly forgets all about the possibility of you getting sick if you keep being too close to him, will cling to you like a kitten.

"Your cuddles are the best medicine~" my ass.

Would follow all of your instructions even if they're questionable.

Wants to be spoon-fed too. Anddd tuck him in. And kiss his forehead. And stay by his side until he falls asleep.

He's needy okay. He never had anyone who would care for him when he's so weak so he cherishes every moment. May even get a bit upset when he's feeling better.

Would ask you to look after him for a few more days juts to make sure he's 10000% okay. Keep dotting on his tho because what if he'll get sick again because of the lack of cuddles!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you're the one who's seek he'll overreact.

Like even if it's the smallest thing, he'll insist on calling his own private doctor to check on you.

You're the best thing in his life, his promised dawn. Of course he'll look after you. Even if looking after you means being a clingy mother hen.

No excuses, he'll take care of you. Even if you have seen worse. Even if you're very busy. Even if it's not that big of a deal.

The problem is. He's never looked after a sick person before.

His every attempt to nurse you back to health is overwhelming. Tries every single method he can find in the internet so please stop him if needed.

Insists on cuddling you all of the time. Generally tries to do everything you do for him when he's sick since you're literally his only example.

If you receive too many work-related phone calls from someone he would not hesitate to pick up the phone before you and say that yeah y/n is busy right now, they are sick, so the optimal solution would be for the caller to deal with their own problems, surely they are not so helpless to rely on a sick person to do everything for them :)

Just wants for you to be alright as soon as possible.

#hsr #aventurine #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #honkai star rail #reader insert #walp's writing

471 notes · View notes

yan-lorkai · 4 months ago

Text

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Day two: Rook scaring his darling.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: Any and all excuses that let me write for Rook, I'm happy. He is my silly little guy with his silly ways 🥺

The phone rang, shattering the serene silence of your room. You glanced at the clock, your eyes tired and strained from the intense focus on your alchemy homework. It was 10:30 PM and pretty chilly, as you took to wrap yourself on your warm covers while studying. You ignored the first ring, your head already aching from the complexities of your studies.

Like... Why is alchemy so hard? And why you have to learn this? And why you need to know this?

The phone rang again, persistent and noisy. Your annoyance grew with each shrill ring, breaking your concentration at each passing second. You just wanted to get done with this and then to sleep. Finally, you picked up the phone, noticing the caller ID was from an unknown number. Usually you wouldn't answer.

But you were exasperated and tired. "Hello?"

A raspy, menacing voice replied, "Oh my, you finally answered. I hope you're enjoying your quiet night?"

Your heart skipped a beat, unsure. For a second you though you were dreaming but quickly discarded this when you blinked, drowsiness still present on your eyelids. "Uh… who is this?"

"That's not important," The voice hummed softly, a little laugh escaping his throat. You strained your ears, trying to hear something, anything at all as you let your notebook and pens at your table, rubbing your eyes slowly. "What is important is that I have been watching you for the last few hours. Your face is so cute when you don't understand a simple concept. Don't know what those ingredients are used to? I could help you with it."

Your mind raced, trying to place the voice. It was familiar, yet distorted with a sinister edge to it. "What do you want?"

A low chuckle came from the other end. "Oh, it's not what I want but what you fear. Do you remember leaving your window slightly open last night?"

You stiffened, recalling the slight breeze that roused you in the middle of the night, thinking nothing of it at the time. "How do you know that?"

"Let's just say I have my ways," The voice continued, dripping with malice. "You should be more careful, mon lapin. There are dangerous people out there, and they might want to pay you a visit."

A cold sweat broke out on your forehead, your heart pounding as you fiddled with your pen. "If you're trying to scare me, it's working. But you won't get away with this."

"Oh, but I already have," The voice taunted. You could almost feel his smile through the phone. "Look behind you, mon amour."

Fear paralyzed you, your breath hitching as you slowly turned around, expecting the worst. You were ready to strike whoever was behind you with your pen. But there was no one there. Just your room, exactly as it had been for the last few hours. You exhaled a shaky breath.

You rethink everything for a second, massaging your temple as you placed the phone back to your ear. "Ha ha, very funny, Rook. Only you throw around some french words"

Of course this was a prank, you thought bitterly.

Then the voice on the phone burst into laughter —familiar, musical laughter. Your fear turned into exhaustion. And the laughter continued for a moment before the voice softened, becoming the one you knew so well.

"Ah, mon trésor, you should have seen your face! You were so brave, so deliciously frightened. Pardonne-moi." Rook's breath hitched. He sounds like he was running or climbing something. You'd rather not know.

You stared at your shaky hands, your heart still racing. You wondered why you still loved him, then his smile, blushy face came to your mind. You sighed, you loved him, that's why you put up with his antics. "One of these days, your pranks are going to give me a heart attack."

"Forgive me, my love," Rook said, half chuckling half meaning his words. "But you must admit, life with me is never dull," His voice was full of warmth and affection.

You shook your head, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips. "Yes, Rook. Life with you is definitely never dull. Just… next time, maybe choose a prank that doesn't involve scaring me half to death?"

"Ah, mon ange, I will consider it," He promised, though you could hear the playful tone still lingering. "But I cannot make any guarantees. After all, where is the fun without a little thrill?"

You rolled your eyes, feeling your heartbeat finally returning to normal. "Alright, alright. Just get over here, you mischievous hunter. I think you owe me a relaxing evening after that scare."

"I'm already here, my love," Rook purred. Then you saw; he was climbing through your window, still wearing his vampire costume, little red details clinging to his face and lips. His face blushy and a trickle of sweat running through his temple. "And as a token of my apology I brought you something sweet to soothe your nerves."

"Oh! That sounds perfect," You replied, locking your eyes with his. "Won't you share those sweets while we cuddle, mister Hunt?"

"As you wish, mon trésor."

Hanging up the phone, you couldn't help but shake your head again, a fond smile playing on your lips. Life with Rook was certainly unpredictable, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

192 notes · View notes

writingastory · 22 days ago

Text

Request: Zayne - Behind Closed Hearts

Request: Hello! Can you please write a story or scenario with Zayne and reader? When they are in relationship and they get into an argument because Zayne keeps overworking himself and they barely have time to see each other. Zayne tells reader to not worry about it, but eventually lashes out on her with his cold tone. He ends up being called back to work and leaves reader. Reader then leaves Zayne apartment and goes back to her own apartment leaving a note that they need a break. Zayne obviously feels bad and tries to contact her/reader, but she’s still upset and wants her space. Zayne understands and misses her terribly, but she avoids him and ofc misses him. Then a few weeks pass by and Zayne is trying to see reader, but then he sees her with Sylus who is her friend that obviously likes her. Prompting Zayne to win her back plus some intimate moments/ professing his love for her. This has been on my mind for a while and if it’s too much for you I understand. Sorry that it’s so long. TY!✨💗

Pairings: Zayne x fem!reader; Sylus x fem!reader (platonic)

Warnings: Angst, arguing, eventual fluff

Genre: "Normal" AU (no Evol, no Wanderers - just normal life)

Words: 2.3k

A/N: Thank you for your request. Even though I specifically stated "headcanons" for requests... this was an idea that I just couldn't ignore. Hope you enjoy this! 💕

"Zayne?"

"Zayne!"

She frowned at the lack of response. Was he still on the phone? He had a bad habit of taking calls after hours. What started as a rare exception, slowly turned into a regular occurrence, with his damned phone constantly interrupting their togetherness.

Her fist slammed the table angrily, the plates and glasses rattling and clinking in a loud chorus. She got up from her chair and stomped to his office, pushing the door open without warning.

There he was, sitting at his desk, his phone glued to his ear still. Zayne frowned at her in irritation - almost angrily so. "Keep it down," he mouthed, turning with his chair, humming at something the caller said.

"You said this would be quick," she said quietly, hoping he would at least spare her a glance - or reassure her in any way. "Zayne," she pleaded once more, all feelings of consideration for him and his demanding job long gone. "This is ou-," she was cut off by him standing up suddenly and making his way over to her.

"Out," he whispered, pushing her out of his office gently but firmly and closing the door. Hot tears made their way over her burning cheeks, seething anger bubbling up in her.

"But-," she sobbed quietly, the words stuck in the lump forming in her throat.

The dinner was long forgotten when he finally came out of his office, already fixing his tie. "I need to go back to the hospital," he said in his usual stoic tone. "I apologize that tonight didn't quite go as planned."

She sat at the dining table again, looking at the cold and empty plates. "Of course," she whispered, "work always comes first, after all."

"Please stop," he answered, walking over to her slowly. "You know that I love you - but you also knew from the very beginning, that my job is very demanding. I can't just tell people to not have heart problems at certain times."

"You're not the only surgeon in Linkon, Zayne." Her tone was sharp as she got up and walked around the table - away from him. She could not stand being near him anymore. "Can't you see what this workaholic lifestyle is doing to you? To us? Damn it, the nurses spend more time with you than I do these days."

Zayne frowned again. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, fixing the sleeves of his crisp white shirt, "but it doesn't change the fact that they need me there right now."

"I need you here, Zayne," she cried, not even bothering to hide the tears anymore. He avoided her gaze as he gathered his things. There was a moment of silence before he spoke up quietly.

"Please don't make me choose."

She looked at him in shock. His words stung - worse than any pain she ever felt in life. It was a dark, crushing pain, blooming in her chest and spreading all throughout her body. Why would he feel the need to choose in the first place...?

Shaking her head lightly, she turned away from him, hiding the fresh tears streaming down her face. She heard him sigh behind her, before he quietly made his way to the hallway. Just as he was about to leave, she called out to him.

"Don't go.... please, don't go."

Zayne halted in his tracks for a moment, his hand resting on the door handle. "I'm sorry," he whispered, and stepped outside, the door falling shut behind him quietly.

A few moments passed, before she broke down in sobs, tears of hurt and anger blurring her vision. "Happy anniversary to you, too," she yelled at the door - as if he could still hear her. The storm inside her was raging, months of pent up frustration, cancelled dates, and broken promises bursting out of her. The downpour was heavy and violent - as was the sudden silence that followed.

She sat on the floor in the living room, her back resting against the couch. Her tears had dried, her sobs died down, and she was left with a certain clarity of mind. She couldn't do this anymore.

Yes, she loved Zayne - but she could not take always being second choice anymore. This was not the kind of relationship she wanted in life, not even with a man as amazing as Zayne.

She scrambled to her feet slowly, starting to collect her things that had accumulated over the many times she was at his place. Every single piece felt wrong to take away, like she was committing a crime of some sort.

Every strange noise made her perk up, a spark of hope erupting in her. Was he coming back? Did he... choose her after all?

But with every noise that ignited a small glimmer of hope, came a crashing wave of ice cold reality, when she had to realize that he was not returning that night. Not soon after he left - or even five hours later.

So it came that she found herself in his office, sitting at his desk. The surface was relatively empty, save for a notebook, a pen... and a picture of the two of them. She remembered that day vividly. They had visited the annual fair together and enjoyed a day of fun, laughter, and sweets. And then, finally, after months of orbiting around each other... they shared a kiss, sweet and gentle.

Now, the same memory that had brought her joy and excitement, caused a deep pit in her stomach. She sighed deeply and placed the framed picture down again, as the memories slowly faded away. Swallowing the lump forming in her throat, she grabbed the pen and a blank paper sheet from one of the drawers. She hesitated for a moment, the tip of the pen hovering above the crisp white paper. Then, eventually, she formed her words of goodbye.

The sun was already rising above the horizon when Zayne was finally coming home. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. He called out her name as he stepped inside. Usually, she was already awake by this time of the day.

He said her name again, slowly making his way through his apartment. Something felt off. It was quiet. Too quiet. He frowned when he saw the food and clean dinnerware still on the table.

Once more, her name left his lips as he entered the bedroom and found it empty, the bed untouched. A terrible feeling crept up his spine, and following a certain hunch, he opened the top drawer of his dresser slowly. He shut his eyes in pain and remorse when he found it empty. Her clothes were gone, as was her perfume on top of the dresser. Zayne closed the drawer with a soft thud, his hands dropping to his sides.

He took out his phone and dialed her number, only for his call to be immediately sent to voicemail. "Please..." he whispered, walking through his apartment aimlessly, noticing the spots that had her things in it, that now sat empty, "please, pick up."

In the midst of the chaos that was her absence, Zayne found the one thing she left behind. A letter, neatly placed by the picture on his desk. The words burned in his eyes, like a fire against the white of the paper.

Zayne, I'm not asking you to choose between your work and me. What would be the point, since you already did?

He sat in silence, trying to process the words he was reading over and over again.

She was gone.

His love had left him.

Somehow, his world seemed a little less bright ever since that night. It became dull. Lifeless. Monotonic.

Incomplete.

He splashed his face with cold water, willing away the painful memory. Many times he had tried calling and visiting her, wanting to work things out - but she would not let him.

"We need a break, Zayne," was all she had said to him before shutting him out again. It hurt, but he could not blame her when he was the reason for this situation.

Weeks passed. Weeks full of regret and anger, hurt and doubt. Was he doing the right thing by giving her space, when all he wanted was for them to be together again? Could he even make it right anymore? He recalled all the times he had stood her up, making her wait for him. She deserved better.

But he did not want to let her go. He wanted to be better for her. He wanted to be the man she deserved. All his awards, his passion for his work dulled in comparison to her love and companionship. He realized that then - and hoped it was not too late for that.

As the weeks went by, she slowly got used to the heavy weight resting on her shoulders. She hated this feeling. More than anything, she wished to meet up with Zayne, hug him, kiss him, make everything go back the way it was between them - but she knew that she needed space to see clearly, to figure things out.

She sighed deeply, when her phone was ringing once again.

"I told you to stop calling me," she mumbled after picking up.

"No, you didn't," the man on the other side chuckled deeply. "Sylus," she said, a small smile forming on her lips. "I thought you were on a business trip?"

"I was," he answered, "but I could wrap things up earlier than expected. Are you in the mood for some coffee?"

She wanted to say 'no'. Then again, Sylus and her had been friends since elementary school, and maybe this would take her mind off things, help her get some distance from the emotional mess she was dealing with.

"I'll pick you up," he said. She could hear him smiling through the phone. "Alright," she answered, ending the call with a soft tap on the phone screen.

Zayne was stressed when he finally got off work. He was annoyed, he had a headache, and his eyes were burning. He groaned in frustration and rubbed his temples. He needed a break. A good coffee and maybe something sweet would certainly help him - or so he thought. Finding his love in the same café he went to, was not part of the plan. And seeing her with another man did not make it any better.

Rationally, he knew that those two were life-long friends. Emotionally, he saw red.

Without ordering anything, Zayne turned around and left the café. He knew where he had to go. This madness would end tonight.

It was already dark outside when she got home, confused when she found the door to her apartment not fully locked.

"Don't be frightened," Zayne's soft voice called from the darkness of her living room, "it's me."

"What are you doing here?!" she demanded, letting her keys fall into the dish with a loud rattle. "I think I was very clear in my demand for a break."

"You were," he agreed, turning on the light with a soft click. He sat on the couch, his legs folded, his eyes fixed on her form. "Yet, I find it nearly impossible to continue like this."

Silence filled the room. She took off her shoes and walked over, sitting down in the arm chair across from him. She tried her hardest to remain calm and stoic, even when her heart screamed at her to lunge at him. She craved his touch, his presence in her life.

"You look tired," she noted after terribly long moments of silence. "I'm not sleeping well lately," he answered quietly, a soft sigh following his words.

"I'm sorry," he said, his haze finding hers once more. She shuffled in her seat slightly, biting her lip. Countless thoughts flooded her mind, threatening to spill out - but she wanted to listen to what he had to say first. So, she looked at him in silence, waiting for him to continue.

"You were right. I did make a choice... and I despise myself for it. I despise myself for not seeing your hurt, for not understanding how you must have felt."

She swallowed thickly at his words. It was hard for him to talk about feelings. This was a lot - for both of them.

"The past weeks have been hard. I miss you. I miss us."

A single tear rolled down her cheek at his words. "I miss you, too," she said quietly. "But I'm scared. What if we end up right here again? That's not the kind of relationship I want..."

"My love," he breathed, standing up and walking over to her in a few long strides. He kneeled down in front of her and took her hands in his gently. "I don't want that either. I know my mistakes, and I don't want to repeat them. I will be better for you. Can you... find it in yourself to forgive me? To give me another chance?"

She did not even make an effort to hide her tears, letting them run freely over her skin. In a fraction of a second, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his - a silent answer.

Foreheads touching, they both sighed quietly, the pent up tension finally leaving their bodies and the air around them. "Let's never.... do that again," he whispered, his arms slowly circling around her, as he hid his face in her lap. He squeezed her gently, scared that she could somehow disappear from his grasp again.

"Agreed," she mumbled, raking her fingers through his soft hair gently. "I hate fighting anyway."

He smiled and looked up at her. "Oh, one more thing. Don't believe I forgot," he said, reaching into his pocket, pulling out a small, neatly wrapped present.

"Happy belated anniversary."

#love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #lnds #dr zayne #doctor zayne #lads zayne #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #lnds zayne #l&ds zayne #love and deepspace zayne

132 notes · View notes

night-night-stories-before-bed · 3 months ago

Text

Nightly banter

Warning ⚠️; Blood and bad jokes

Pairing; Ghostface x gn!Reader

Summary; It is almost the Devil’a hour when you get a phone call. You know who it is and if this is to be yours last night, then you’ll make your caller work for it.

Note; I am currently sick with the flu and pretty high on meds so hopefully I didn't correct like shit. Sorry if I did :(

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sitting in your living room you enjoyed a good horror movie. The bowl of popcorn and potato chips on your lap was getting lighter with each minute that passed. You chuckled, knowing that movie by heart and whispering the quotes as they came. The jump scares didn't affect you anymore even tho you still appreciated them. Your eyes turned to the clock and realized it would soon be 3:00 in the morning. The Devil’s Hour.

And what a crazy time it was lately. The town was plagued by a series of murder featuring the sadly known Ghostface of Woodsboro, California. You grew up there as a kid and moved away to here. As an adult you didn't leave, yet, but with all those murders? Might be safer to take a plane to somewhere else.

You chuckled at the thought and shook your head.

Nah. You didn’t really fit any criteria to become the victim in a horror movie. Quite the contrary in fact. You lived a quiet life and enjoyed the calm that came with being in a small town. Well, maybe enjoying horror wasn't smart for the moment.

And you were careful; locking doors and windows and always keeping your best friend the blinky with you. While you weren't usually one for firearms, you did get one after the first murder. It was safer this way. While not wanting to give in to the paranoia, you also knew it wasn't worth the risk of staying harmless.

Your phone rang, stopping you from shoving a handful of popcorn into your mouth. You eyed the phone, wondering if you should answer or not. The caller was masked, and the number not showing and a shiver ran down your spine.

It could be anyone.

The killer.

Or kids wanting to make a prank.

With a shaky finger, you answered your phone, pressing it against your ear as you said as soft “Hello.”

- “Hello.” The voice of the caller replied. There is something sickly sweet about it. “Who is this?”

- “Who are you trying to reach?” You asked back, frowning as you get up to make sure all the doors and windows are locked.

- “What number is this?”

This time you freeze in your track, a shiver running down your spine. The conversation sound familiar. Too familiar. A feeling of dread fill your heart and you hold your phone tighter deciding to keep going, just to make sure.

- “Well, what number are you trying to reach?” You tried to keep the shaking of your voice discreet, but you are bad at it.

- “I don't know.”

You can hear the amusement in the other's voice, can almost imagine the smirk and hope this is a prank.

- “I think you have the wrong number.” Your voice has an edge to it now. You only want to cut the conversation short.

- “Do I?”

- “It happens. Take it easy.”

Enough is enough. This prank had lasted for too long already and you could feel your hand shaking. You stare at your phone, ready to hang up but the voice keeps talking.

- “You still haven't told me your name.”

- “Why do you want to know my name?”

- “Because I want to know who I'm looking at.”

The answer almost made you drop your phone. You looked around you frantically, trying to get a glimpse of where the fucker was. But all your curtains were closed.

- “What do you want?” You asked, returning to the sofa to grab your gun.

You heard the caller, Ghostface chuckling on the other side of the line. You wanted to throw the phone away and smash it in the wall. There was no way…

You clenched your jaws deciding that if this was real… you were going to make the fucker work for it. You'll be his nightmare and make him regret picking you for his next victim.

- “What do you want?” You asked again, slightly raising your voice.

- “To see what your insides look like.”

- “That sound kinky.”

- “What?”

You hit your head with the barrel of your gun, cringing at what you just said. It came out without you thinking about it. At least the killer sounded astonished, not expecting you to say something so… so… yeah. You decided to roll with it. At least you would die making fun of him.

- “You heard me, you kinky bastard. At least you could offer me a drink before wanting to jump to see my insides. For what do you take me? A harlot?”

- “Listen here you bitch…”

- “Oh, now I am the bitch?” You interrupted him, walking around your house and still making sure everything was locked. “Yet you are the one thirsting over my guts.”

You felt pride as the killer fell silent, as if he didn't know what to reply. Almost. Almost because you knew he was probably pissed off at you and God knew what he would do now. You weren't wrong, however. That fucker really was a kinky creep.

Walking around your house, you made sure everything was still locked. The killer wasn't talking anymore, but you could still hear his breathing. You hated the silence. It felt like a knife being held above your head, ready to fall and stab you.

- “You think yourself funny, don't you?”

Ghostface’s voice almost made you jump out if your skin. You didn't expect him to talk so suddenly nor to have such a cold voice.

- “Yeah, I am.” you replied with a chuckle, moving the curtain of the last window you checked. You saw a silhouette standing next to a tree. “I see you there, Micheal Myers wanna be.”

- “I see you too, future victim.”

You saw the silhouette waving at you and snorted. He could have at least given you a better surname than that!

You jumped away from the window as you saw the silhouette sprinting toward you. Raising your gun, you were ready to shoot the second the killer tried to touch the window. But instead of the sound of glass breaking, you heard something hit it followed by a loud thud. Moving the curtain again and looking toward the ground, you found the killer lying down. On the phone, you heard him groaning in pain.

It didn't take long for you to understand what just happened and you couldn't resist but laugh. All fear had left your body as you realized just how clumsy he was. Did he step on his dress? Did he stumble over a root?

- “S-shut up!” You heard the Killer’s voice growling on the phone.

But you didn't stop.

You fell on your ass laughing, holding your ribs for a few more minutes before putting the phone back to your hear.

- “Go home mister killer, you are drunk.” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Maybe stop at the hospital first, you might have a concussion.”

- “Fuck you!”

- “Fuck me yourself, clumsy boy.”

You heard him cursing at you and you only replied by making kissing sounds. You sighed as the killer hung up on you and there were no more sounds. You closed your eyes, pressing your back against the wall and waiting for something, anything.

But he was gone. Humiliated by his own clumsiness, he had left you. Hands shaking, you laughed again, this time nervously. Guess you were going to be in his sequel if he survived until then.

#scream #Ghostface #male reader #x male reader #x reader #fanfic #x gn reader #ghostface x gn reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface x male reader #ghostface x you #halloween #reader #gn reader

132 notes · View notes

bangtaninborderland · 2 years ago

Text

JJK- Late Night Calls.

you get a call from Jungkook at 7am, struck with worry you pick up only to find your adorably tired boyfriend.

Genre: smut, fluff, Jungkook x reader.

Warning: NONE!

A/N: came up with this in 10 minuets thought it was cute enjoy :)

The familiar tune of your phone ringing broke you from your sleep, your vision was blurry but you could still clearly read the caller ID

Incoming Factime Video call: JK ♥️

It must have been 7am in Korea, Jungkook was never awake this early. You quickly answered, a million scenarios running through your mind as to explain why he was calling at such a time and none of them were good.

“Hello?”

He must have seen the panic in your face as he croaked out. “Baby what’s wrong?”

“I thought something happened you’re never awake this early?” You felt a small weight lift off your shoulders as he chuckled.

“I’m fine baby just couldn’t sleep, missed you.” You loved how he sounded when he was sleepy.

You laughed at the way he was laying across his bed, small rolled up pillow underneath him. “You have got to get different pillows.”

“No no I like my pillow.” He laughs, showing you how comfortable it is. “How’s London jagiya?”

You suddenly regretted being in a different country for work, the idea of morning sex seemingly more attractive than anything else. “It’s fine here, I can’t wait to be back home though. The food isn’t as good.”

“The food is the only thing?” He pouted, pulling the blanket further over his face. “What about me and bammie?”

You turned to the side, resting your leg atop the blanket. “Of course I miss you and bam too kook.”

“The bed is cold without you, empty. I think you should quit work and just be a stay at home wife.” He laughed again, although you could tell there was a sliver of hope to his absurd suggestion.

“Never gonna happen, you may be rich but I’m only half way there.” You both laughed, money was never something either of you took seriously you had always shared everything for as long as you could remember. You’d buy him dinner and he would buy dessert. He would buy you designer but he would also be more than happy if you brought him a pack of ramen. “Besides we aren’t even married.”

“Don’t remind me.” He shakes his head, before shifting to rest it upon his arms. “How many days until your back?”

“We should have the contracts finished up in a day or two and then we will have a celebratory dinner and I’ll be on the first flight back.” You explained as you watched him, his tattoos standing out against the white fabric of his sheets, his hair messy. You let your eyes wander, your imagination running wild thinking about how he would look completely naked. “are you wearing pants?”

“Come back and find out jagiya, I’m sure you’re already picturing the ways I’d fuck you.”

The sudden vulgarity of his words left you in a state of shock. “I- when I get home we are definitely doing whatever I’m thinking right now.”

“And what is that doll?” He laughed, fingers drawing circles on the sheet. “What’s going on in that pretty mind of yours?”

“Just thinking about how good your hand would look wrapped around my neck.” You pushed yourself further into the pillow, slightly shy.

“Too bad you’re too far away baby. We should sleep.” He closed his eyes, teasing you.

You groaned, fighting the urge to grind against the sheets. “Kook.”

“Hmm?” He mumbled, lazily.

“You turned me on.” You giggled, closing your eyes.

“I’m hard too beautiful, I’ll go to sleep thinking about good good your mouth will feel around my cock.

“Why couldn’t you call me at 8pm and get all dirty with me? Why does it have to be when I’m too tired to do anything?” You whined, wanting to cry from how much you missed his touch.

“It’s okay princess when you’re home I’ll take care of you. we should still sleep you have a meeting tomorrow morning don’t you?” You opened one eye, just enough to see him staring at you smiling.

“At six am, it’s 11pm right now. I have to wake up at 4am so I can finish the presentation.” You explained, your words slurring as you started to drift off. “Are you working tomorrow?”

“I have a few appointments nothing important, call me anytime tomorrow I’ll be there but for now get some sleep baby, I won’t hang up.”

“Promise?” You whispered, the folds of sleep covering you in a sheet of darkness.

“Always jagiya.”

1K notes · View notes

val-made-a-mistake · 3 months ago

Note

Hello! I was hoping I could request one where the reader is Eddie's sister and she gets hurt by someone who is looking for Eddie/Venom and they save her. Thank you very much! Have a great day!

sometimes the simple concepts are the ones that are the most fun to write. thank you for this request - i had a blast writing it! hope you enjoy! word count: 1k warnings: well, a hostage situation, so descriptions of blood and knives and venom's signature decapitation method.

- Eddie’s phone buzzed in his pocket, pulling him out of his late-night walk across the city. It was the most he could do when Venom was begging for flesh to gobble all the time, after all. Damage control.

He didn’t need to look at the caller ID - it was yours, the one he’d set as a joke years ago, that dumb banjo that you hated. He answered it immediately.

“Yeah, kid?” he greeted, glancing down the empty street.

A breathless whisper hit him through the phone, more chilling than any shout. “Eddie... someone’s—”

His chest went tight. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

A pause, and then your voice came again, thick with fear. “I'm at a warehouse. The one by the pier - they - they want you.” "Make it quick," someone else further away from the phone - whose voice he didn't recognize - snapped.

And then a click.

Eddie’s hand tightened around the phone, knuckles whitening. What the fuck? Venom’s voice was already prickling in his mind, a low growl bleeding into his own thoughts.

IF THEY HURT HER, WE’LL TEAR THEM TO SHREDS.

“No,” Eddie snapped before he really considered it, his hands shaking - that would only lead to more trouble, and he certainly didn't need more of that right now. The panic washing over him was making it hard to think. What the fuck was going on? Who wanted him? How did they know who you were? “Just - just - let's get her out of there first. Ask questions later."

It didn't matter what he said: Venom was already stirring beneath his skin, cold as ever, more than ready for a fight. WE NEED TO GO. The dark tendrils slithered over Eddie’s shoulders, wrapping him in slimy, glistening armour as he broke into a sprint down the street, faster than human, closer to monstrous.

The warehouse was cold and dark, and it smelled musty - mold was clearly growing from somewhere, making you wrinkle your nose. You hadn’t meant to end up here, of course - just on your way back from work, cutting through the alleys to save a few minutes.

It took one dude twice your size, and, well, now you were stuck here.

“You’re Eddie Brock’s sister, aren’t you?” the man in front of you asked, his voice reminding you of grease and slime and a thousand unpleasant things.

You straightened as best you could while you were tied to the chair, heart pounding. “So what if I am?”

The man stepped closer, enough that you could smell the sharp tang of metal on him. “Your brother’s got something we want. I think you’re just the leverage we need.”

“You know, I didn’t ask to be bait today,” you muttered, hoping to mask the fear creeping up your spine.

He sneered, stepping forward. “Good thing it’s not your choice.”

The man’s fingers dug into your collar, a glint of metal catching the moonlight as he pulled a knife from his jacket, holding it just below your chin.

“Your brother’s got something we want,” he repeated. “He and that…thing he hides.”

Your stomach dropped. Of course, he meant Venom.

Fuck, fuck, fuck - not this again. You did not want to get dragged into this. Why was Eddie always getting pulled into something? He'd promised you he would be safer.

You glared at him despite the threat looming, summoning the last of your defiance. “What, you think Eddie’s just going to hand himself over to you?”

The man laughed, cold and humourless. “Not willingly. But with the right motivation...”

You couldn’t help but gasp as the cold metal of the knife met your cheek, the sharp edge piercing the tender skin there. You felt the sting of it instantly, the warm, wet blood running down the side of your quivering face, your neck, and you couldn’t appear confident anymore: your heart was hammering into overdrive. You were panicking, now.

Please, please, please Eddie. Come quickly.

The knife returned to its previous place under your chin, and the man grinned, an evil gleam in his eye. He could tell you were afraid, and he had that leverage over you.

“Let’s wait for him, shall we?”

By the time they reached the warehouse, Eddie was no longer against ripping someone's head off. The sight of you that haunted him the whole way there, injured and backed against the cold concrete, hurt and it was his fault, sent a surge of fury and fear through him so strong it nearly brought Venom to the surface in full force.

THEY WILL PAY, Venom hissed, and this time, Eddie didn’t hold him back.

"Do your thing, V," he whispered breathlessly before the symbiote enveloped him in his horrifying, gargantuan entirety.

CRAAAAASH!

The door shattered as they broke through, tendrils snapping and slicing, ripping through everything and swallowing your captor's head whole, making a bloodbath of the scene.

Before long, Venom stood before you, the symbiote's hulking form towering over you. He surveyed your injuries: your face was slashed open and blood was steadily trickling down your cheek, but besides from the fact that your chest was heaving in terror, you looked okay.

I THINK SHE IS OKAY, EDDIE, he said softly.

You met Venom's gaze the best you could when he was several feet taller than you: you knew Eddie was in there, somewhere. “Guess you brought backup, huh?” you asked, a shaky attempt at calm, even though you obviously weren't.

Venom’s eyes glinted, the sharp, unsettling smile softening.

NO ONE HURTS YOU, he growled. THEY WILL KNOW THAT NOW.

Eddie’s familiar face reappeared through the black goop, the dark tendrils receding, but his eyes still looked worried. He reached out to free you from your bonds, his voice soft but shaking.

“You okay?” he asked, his hand squeezing your shoulder.

You nodded, managing a half-smile despite the pain radiating through your ribs. "I'm okay."

Venom’s face formed beside Eddie’s, his gigantic milky eyes narrowing as he stared down at you.

WE WILL DESTROY ANYONE WHO HURTS YOU, he rumbled, his endless rows of teeth stretched in a smile, clearly proud of himself.

For the first time, you laughed, breathless and grateful. "Now," you said, glancing over at the headless body leaking blood that had been tossed in the corner during Venom's rampage, "Do either of you know what the fuck is going on?"

#venom #venom movie #venom x reader #eddie brock #tom hardy #let there be carnage #venom: let there be carnage #venom the last dance #venom symbiote #venom 3

119 notes · View notes

darkfemininenergy · 2 years ago

Text

LET’S PLAY THAT GAME ━ ethan landry

pairing: gf!ethan x fem!reader

warning: smut, ghostface phone call, dom!ethan, sub!reader, fingering, rough sex, choking, ropes, spit kink, fingers sucking, dirty talk, gloves kink.

author’s note: english is not my first language, and also my first time writing smut so i hope it’ll be good. if you have any request, let me know !

YOU’D COME HOME from the gym an hour ago, the only classes you had were this morning and you were grateful to have the whole afternoon off for once. you'd had lunch with mindy at noon and then decided to take her home, since the ghostface attacks had hit new york, following the 4 survivors of woodsboro, you didn't want the young meeks martin to go home alone, even in the middle of the day, who knows what might happen, especially when you knew who her uncle was.

now you were in your kitchen after a nice shower, in the background as sound of « how to get away with murder », one of your favorite tv shows, mindy found it quite ironic since you were in a law major.

you were cooking dinner quietly after a bit of studying, standing in front of the hob, dressed in a short, tight-fitting black top and gray shorts, your phone at your side as you wrote to the young meeks martin, who was confiding in you about her feelings for anika.

and that's when your phone began to vibrate, thinking it was mindy, a slight smile appeared on your lips before you grabbed your phone, but this smile slowly disappeared in your face due to what appeared on your screen: unkown caller.

a bad feeling began to take hold of you as, paranoid as you were, you looked around you at the knives just inches from you, spotting the largest of them.

you then answered the phone, adrenalin coursing through your body.

- hello ?

the sound of the oil against the frying pan camouflaged the sound of your series in the living room, as you added spices, waiting for an answer from your interlocutor, the wait was heavy.

- hello, y/n, replied the deep, gravelly, modulated voice.

ghostface.

a shiver ran down your spine, and your body froze, paralyzed as you realized the obvious: you were part of the group of friends of the survivors of the 2022 attacks.

you turned off the gas, stopped cooking. And clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

- well, go ahead, i’m wainting for the “what's your favorite scary movie ?” part.

you tried not to show any signs of fear, but inside you were terrified, imagining yourself already dead on your kitchen floor, but you knew you didn't have time to think about it and passed your index finger between the various knives on the rack in front of you, leaning slightly over the worktop.

the only response you got was a little laugh of amusement, mixed with a hint of sadism, from the killer, and it made your blood run cold.

- you're a bold one, aren't you? now, i think that i'm really going to enjoy this.

- fuck you.

-but you're also a very pretty one... he said with a seductive tone, too bad that i have to correct that filthy mouth of yours, he finished with a voice full of brutality, as if your insult had made him angry.

his change of mood startled you, and you immediately straightened up, then nervously tapped the surface of your kitchen with your freshly manicured nails.

- what do you want ? you asked, trying not to show how scared your voice sounded.

he hums slowly, as if he's thinking, and you can feel the goosebumps on your skin.

- that's a good question... what do i want... ? i want to play a game.

your heart was starting to race, so without thinking any further, you grabbed the largest knife and suddenly turned around with dynamism, all your senses now activated.

- do you want to play a game, y/n ? the modulated voice asked you.

- go to hell, i’m not going to play any of your sick game, you replied brutally.

- you look cute with that knife, tell me, what are you going to do with it, sweetheart ? stab me ? he teased.

you could practically hear the smirk in his voice and it drived you insane as well as the pet name, your grip on your knife was starting to tighten.

- where are you, asshole ? you spat hatefully.

you started to look from left to right, if anyone else could see you through your window, they'd think you were crazy to get so agitated, you leaned over to look towards the right exit which led to the hallway of your apartment, before returning to the kitchen which overlooked your living room.

you put your phone on the worktop behind your hob not far from your fridge, and activated the speakerphone to leave the call and type in the police number before he even answered.

- oh i wouldn't try to call the police if i were you, y/n, it'd be a real shame for mindy and anika to pay the consequences of your stupid actions.

your fingers stopped typing on your screen, not only because of the threat, but also because a detail had caught your attention, how did he know i was going to call the police ?

- h-how.... you began before cutting yourself off, can you see me?

he was sniggering again, and you were really beginning to hate that horribly creepy sound. you swallowed that awful lump in your throat that prevented you from speaking properly and waited for an answer.

- of course i can see you. i must admit that you look good in those, a little bit short though, does your boyfriend know you carry around in your apartment like that, y/n ?

panic-stricken, you hung up, and what a grave mistake you'd made, dropping your phone onto the wooden surface, you clutched the edge of it as if your body were threatening to collapse and you were looking for something to lean on. but then you pulled yourself together and grabbed your phone, never letting go of the knife you'd armed yourself with.

you moved towards the large window in your living room and pulled back the curtain slightly to see if anyone was outside watching you, since your kitchen was connected to the living room and, above all, open, with no door separating them.

but you couldn't see anything suspicious, only the horrible traffic jams of the city that never sleeps and people minding their own business down your street. you weren't the least bit reassured, certainly not, you had no idea where he could see you and you were terrified of it.

then you let out a groan of surprise when your phone started vibrating in your hand again, except this time it wasn't a call but a notification from an unknown number, it was a video.

your hands began to shake as you huffed and puffed to regain your composure, naively hoping to regain an ounce of control over the situation. once you'd opened your phone and clicked on the video, you saw mindy and anika on it, kissing on a sofa, the video had been taken from outside through your window and you pursed your lower lip, anxious, but starting to get angry that ghostface wasn't just threatening you, but also your friends, after everything mindy already endured because of that stupid mask.

and then, another call, again. you stared at your screen for a few seconds, looked around your living room and swallowed, grabbed your tv remote to turn it off, a silence falling over every room in the apartment when you finally accepted the call as you peered into every corner of the room, your stomach burning with fear.

- hang up again and i'll rip their heads off and send them in a box at your door ! shouted the killer menacingly and violently.

the violence of his threat burned your eyes, but you were able to swallow back your tears. you were sure he could feel your panic through the phone.

- not them, don't hurt them, s-stop it, i’ll do anything, i-i promise, you cried, afraid that something might happen to your friends.

- good girl, you see how easy things are going when you start obeying ? his voice softened, but you could still hear the amusement in it that told you he loved what was happening, that he loved scaring you.

despite the fear, the nickname he'd used triggered a reaction you'd never have suspected: a wave of heat spread through your body, even between your legs, and you suddenly felt ashamed.

- now, let's play that game. have you ever heard of hot and cold ?

you simply nodded, tucking a lock of hair behind your ears, knife still sharp in hand.

- words, pretty girl.

another heat wave.

- y-yeah, yes, i have.

- perfect. you want to know where i am, right ? then come and find me. go on.

you frowned, apprehensive about the objective behind this game, especially apprehensive about the moment when you were going to meet him.

- and then, if i find you, what will happen ?

- find me and you'll see, answered mischievously ghostface.

a new silence, neither of you speaking, the silence was heavy for you. you took two steps forward, and turned to look behind you again, the fact of not knowing where he was disturbed you and increased your degree of fear.

- are you scared, sweet thing ? he continued to mock, knowing he had the upper hand.

- shut the fuck up motherfucker, you're gonna pay for all of this, you grumbled in between.

- oh, really? i’m waiting then, he sneered, and you were willing to bet he was smiling.

his words only provoked you and you walked out of the living room, realizing that he couldn't be there, you were surprised to realize that you actually started looking for him, now angry at the way he was openly mocking you. you opened the bathroom door, peering in after turning on the light.

- cold.

you immediately left the room, closed the door and stepped into the corridor, which this time led to your bedroom. but before you got close to it, your steps slowed down, as you became more reluctant to head towards this part of the apartment, what if he was inside ?

- why are you slowing down ? maybe I'm inside.

- fuck it, you muttered.

you continued to hold your knife, getting ready to use it, when you arrived at the door to your room and opened it, you went in, and looked all around, near your desk, in the nooks and crannies, then your gaze fell back on your wardrobe, which was closed.

- are you in there ? you asked, your breath catching.

you heard his breathing through the phone become more erratic, and that's all you could hear as you held it to your ear.

- open it.

without further hesitation, you grabbed both wrists of your wardrobe and suddenly opened them, brandishing your knife in your face the next second.

but surprisingly, he wasn't there, so you straightened up and let your arm fall back down your body, then brought the phone up to your ear to hear your interlocutor, who seemed to love playing with your mind and emotions. he started laughing again, and the more he did it, the more it annoyed you than it frightened you now.

- no, i'm not there sweetheart, i was just messing with you.

- asshole, wanting to play a game without even knowing how to play it, you laughed bittersweetly.

you could sense that he wasn't happy with your answer, maybe even angry, but in any case, he didn't show it and decided to restart the game.

- you're getting colder, keep looking.

since you'd gone in the opposite direction and weren't getting any closer, you decided to return to the area you'd been in when you received the bloody call, retracing your steps, finding yourself in the hallway where your bathroom was once again.

- you're still cold.

you sighed in annoyance, but kept on walking, and when you passed the bathroom door you'd already looked in.

- warm, he warned you, and his husky voice sent shivers down your spine.

the further you went, the more your heart pounded to the point where that was all you could hear now. now you were back in your living room, you couldn't make any sense of the situation, you must have misunderstood his directions, he couldn't be there.

- you're getting warmer, good, very good sweetheart, you're almost there.

and yet, the praise almost made you blush again, you felt butterflies in your stomach and snapped inwardly as you remembered who you were on the phone with.

slightly frustrated by the flirtatious tone, you began to hold your knife out in front of you, preparing yourself better in case you found him.

as well as being frustrated, you were in total bewilderment, you had no idea where he could be, he kept messing with your head and he was very good at it.

he definitely wasn't in the kitchen, nor in the living room, not even towards the entrance, since you'd glanced around.

- keep looking, y/n, it'd be a shame if i find you first, wouldn't it ? tormented ghostface.

you held back from insulting him once more, avoided the living room areas you'd already looked at, and moved towards the only corridor on the opposite side of the apartment where you hadn't glanced.

and to do this, you had to pass through the corridor to your left leading to the front door, when you passed this door, and moved into the unlit corridor where in one of the doors lay your washing machine and other belongings, he spoke again.

- you don't want to turn colder again, don't you ? now, turn around.

paranoid, you thought he was right behind you, so you quickly turned around and took a big step back, the knife right in front of you, your arm raised, and you let out an expletive when you couldn't see anyone again. He was definitely playing with your mind and you'd had enough. You could feel the frustration heating your blood.

you made the choice not to pay any more attention to your footsteps, beginning to believe that he had lied to you and wasn't even near you, that this was just to scare you.

- warm.

but then you stopped, and that's how you noticed you were near the entrance hall. no, it couldn't be.

you headed in that direction, advancing slowly, cold sweat beginning to take refuge on your forehead.

- warmer.

shit. shit. shit.

you noticed the cupboard embedded in the wall a metre from the landing, and realized he was probably here. I'd have heard him, the kitchen's right next door. you had no idea what was going on.

- very very warm, he whispered.

your trembling hand came to rest on the wrist of the hall cupboard, hesitantly, you didn't open it immediately, feeling your breathing quicken.

in a split second, you brought your other hand to the cabinet and jerked it open. but nothing, absolutely nothing.

- fucking bastard, you growled.

you sighed, and slammed the wardrobe doors shut, the sound echoing throughout the apartment after this act of anger and you could hear him laughing in your ear.

pissed off, you returned to the kitchen to the very same spot where you had decided to call the police, still holding your weapon in your hand which was now on the kitchen counter facing the living room.

- now you're boiling.

you held your phone so tightly in your hand that you could have crushed it. you didn't know whether your hands were shaking with fear or anger, or both.

- i’m done with that shit, you growled again, if you want me, come and get me.

- want you in which way, darling ? don't get me wrong, both involve ropes, but it's an important distinction to make before we proceed.

- w-what ?

and just then, you saw a shadow with a very tall figure forming right in front of you.

you immediately dropped your phone from your hands, about to turn and brandish your knife to stab him, but a large gloved hand pressed against your mouth and an imposing body slammed you against the surface.

your scream was then muffled by the hand over your mouth, and your knife was snatched from your other hand, panic instantly seizing you after your weapon was snatched from you, you tried to fight back by reaching behind him with your hands, but his free hand had no trouble grabbing both your wrists and pinning them behind your back.

- i told you it'd be a shame if i find you first, he said mockingly.

the tears in your eyes blurred your vision, you kept squirming in all directions and your screams kept choking against your attacker's glove. then you felt them, your hands bound by ropes.

ropes that burned your wrists, he had to take his hand away from his mouth to bind your hands, and you couldn't control the rhythm of your breathing.

- no no no no no, you protested, naively trying to free yourself from the ropes.

just then, you felt his hips push you against the counter again and his hand slid down your back to force you against the surface, bended you over, he towered over you.

- p-please, please let me go, you tried not to let the tears roll down your cheeks, but your voice betrayed your fear.

- where's that attitude you were giving me earlier, hm ?

- i-i’m sorry, you let your forehead hit the cold surface of the counter, your eyes closed.

- you look so good like that, he murmured under his breath, bended over, begging for me, better than i have imagined.

a new complaint came from the back of your throat, and you started to struggle again, unconsciously moving your hips to push him away. then you felt something against you, something hard, then you heard him growl.

your mouth fell open in astonishment, you must surely have heard wrong, you thought. then you continued to rub your hips against him, your two bodies pressed together, and suddenly his left hand grabbed your hip to immobilize you.

an amused smile spread across your lips, contradicting the tears in your eyes.

- does this turn you on ? do i'm turning you on mr. ghostface ? you said in a playful tone.

- shut up, i'm gonna fuck that attitude out of you, spat the killer.

a groan threatened to leave your mouth but you managed to control it, feeling all wet after rubbing yourself against him and his modulated voice making you feel things you shouldn't feel.

a moan threatened to leave your mouth but you managed to control it, you felt all wet after rubbing yourself against him and his modulated voice made you feel things you shouldn't feel.

quickly, he removed your shorts followed by your underwear, leaving you almost naked apart from your black top, your wet intimacy exposed to the cool apartment air sending a shiver down your spine and forcing you to squeeze your thighs together.

- uh uh, none of that, open those legs for me, he said, slapping one of your thighs.

aware of the extent of your desire between your legs, you spread them slowly and slightly, enough for him to slip his hand in.

his fingers began to tease your crotch, you were about to open your mouth to express your desire, but closed it when his fingers moved to brush over her clit. you breathed deeply and closed your eyes as you felt his fingers gently beginning to knead at your clit and press against your entrance.

you took a shaky breath, clenching down around the finger gently as it was pushed in up to the second knuckle.

you moaned happily, your hips pressing forward. your hips swayed further as he began to move his fingers slowly. his fingers moved in and out of her slowly. then he gently curled them as he moved them, smiling at the cry he drew from you. his thumb gently massaged your clit, and you arched your back silently asking for more.

- you like that, huh ?

you nodded positively, moaning softly, your lip still between your teeth.

- come on, what did i told you earlier, sweetheart ?

words.

- f-fuck, y-yes.

- yes what ? while curling his fingers inside of you.

- yes, yes i-i like that.

he was starting to pick up his pace, you could hear his breathing jerking in turn, getting harder and harder by the pretty sounds you were making and the way you were moving your hips against him. although he'd been using a fairly gentle rhythm, now he was thrusting his fingers into you harder and harder, going even deeper.

causing moans that you could no longer control, especially when he added another finger, unconsciously, you closed your legs once more against the sensation that invaded you, but his other hand forced you to keep them spread for him.

even if you wanted to deny him access to your legs by closing them, you couldn't, his grip was too strong for you to move, it would probably leave a mark later.

when his fingers reached that spot inside you, you tilted your head back, eyes closed. he took advantage of your position to lean towards you, so that his fingers were deep inside you, and your belly was completely pressed into the countertop surface, as were your hips.

he grabbed your jaw to force you to open your eyes and tilt your head back even further, causing you to arch your back even more to the point of slight pain, and with your hands tied behind your back, it wasn't easy, so when you did, you fell into the big, intimidating black eyes of his mask.

but the idea of him fucking you in his ghostface costume, mask and gloves made you wetter, it was so wrong.

you gave him those doe eyes, and he swore he could have cum right now just from the look you were giving him. you half-opened your mouth as if to let out another moan, but nothing came out.

his thumb moved to your lower lip, his hand still gripping your jaw. his other hand continued to penetrate you roughly, but you still wanted more. he could read the desire on your face, in your eyes.

- what's the matter, pretty girl ? do you want my cock instead ?

you nod eagerly.

- please, i w-want it so bad.

the position you were in meant you couldn't breathe properly, your back arched, your head back as you stared into the big black eyes of the ghost mask.

his thumb pressed your clitoris just right, in a delicious way that brought back that exquisite sensation in your lower belly. but suddenly he withdrew his hand, feeling you suddenly empty, you let out a whine.

but he quickly silenced you by pushing the two fingers inside you into your mouth, his other hand controlling your movements through your jaw and forcing you to take his fingers covered in your juices.

- that's it, taste yourself, take those fingers right down your throat, whispered ghostface.

you felt your taste on his two fingers deposited on your tongue, you closed your mouth to suck greedily on his fingers that he pushed deep into your throat, creating new tears in the corner of your eyes and causing you a gag that seemed to satisfy him.

his fingers were so deep in your throat that your saliva was starting to drip down the corner of your mouth.

His hand that held your jaw withdrew from it, you felt the trace of the fabric of his gloves burn your jaw in the absence of his hand, then just after, you heard the sound of a belt unbuckling just behind you.

claiming only his fingers or his cock inside of you again, you moved your hips back, and felt the brutal material of his jeans, and then, from his underwear, you could especially feel his erection that was right against your ass.

you tried to speak, but with his fingers in your throat and the taste of your wetness on your tongue, those sounds were muffled, but you knew he'd heard you because he pushed his fingers even deeper into your mouth, making you feel a little dizzy.

as he let out a muffled moan against the movement of your hips against him, he in turn thrust against you, feeling your clitoris swell with excitement.

then, a few seconds later, unexpectedly, without any warning from him, you felt his tip right in front of your entrance and quickly, he penetrated you brutally, knocking the wind out of your lungs, causing you to scream due to the impact.

- did i go in too fast ? he laughed, tilting his head to one side, his voice still modified by the modulator.

he started to thrust in and out of you at a pace that made you see stars. his fingers left your throat, and you took a deep breath of air, you were suffocating, and yet his index finger remained between your mouth and your teeth, understanding what he wanted you to do, you bit the material of his glove, allowing him to slide his hand out, removing his glove for him, letting go of the glove in your mouth, you could then observe his hand.

large and covered with veins. You could almost recognize his hand. Your pussy was throbbing and the harsh thrusts didn't help.

suddenly, his hand grabbed the back of your neck and tilted you forward, pushing your chest against the surface where you rested your cheek. it felt so good, you could hear him growling behind you and your whole body wanted to submit to him. his thrusts pushed your belly against the counter, his hips slammed into your buttocks.

for support, he grabbed the ropes he'd tightened around your hands, still holding your neck to make sure you didn't move, you were his to fuck.

you tried to straighten up, but his grip prevented you, so you tried to look over your shoulder, and just seeing him fucking you could make you cum on the spot, his tall figure, the mask, him dominating you.

the erotic sound of his cock thrusting into you filled the room and mingled with your moans and grunts.

- harder, please fuck me harder, you begged, letting your forehead fall back against the counter, eyes closed.

- you want me to fuck you harder ? he said playfully, fine then, i’ll fuck you harder.

he did as you asked, but first by slowing down his thrusts, you then let out some moans as you arched your back, but then he thrust more brutally, deeper into you, all the while being fast. you opened your mouth in pleasure, before going back to biting your lip.

his bare hand grabs your waist and uses it as leverage to thrust into you, leaving you little or no time to adjust as he drives deep into you.

he pulls you back, using his grip on your wrists as your pussy tightens around his cock under his thrusts.

after a few more strokes that made you feel disoriented to the point where it was hard to keep your eyes open. a small noise near you caught your attention, you reopened your eyes breathing hard, and noticed the ghostface mask right next to you, he'd just pulled it off. your eyes widened in astonishment.

- taking it so well, hm whore ? he said in a taunting tone, the modulator was off, god, you feel amazing, he moaned.

and you recognized that voice.

- e-ethan ?

you couldn't see him, but he was smiling and pounding into you, his curly hair falling back on his forehead with a little sweat on his temples.

without you expecting it, his hand on the back of your neck slid down your throat to pull you back to his torso, your hands tied behind your back making the position slightly uncomfortable, but when you let your head fall below his shoulder to look up at him, you forgot the discomfort.

you couldn't believe it, ethan, the shy, dorky guy you were so close to.

- hi baby, surprised ? he smirked devilishly.

- i- you tried to speak, but another of his blows triggered a soft moan.

he laughed again, his eyes never leaving your face, watching as your eyebrows furrowed and your mouth opened in pleasure. he tightened his hand around your neck enough to reduce the air passing through to your lungs, and again he felt you tighten around him.

- look at you, what a little slut. you look so pretty with my hand around your throat.

wanting to look at him, you opened your eyes again, your eyes met and you noticed how dark his gaze was as I'd never seen it before. his hand on your hip began to rub your clit deliciously while he was thrusting in you.

he leaned over and placed his lips against yours to kiss you passionately, not giving you a chance to breathe, you kissed him back without hesitation, which made him smile.

when the kiss ended and you parted, you looked up at him again, his hand still around your neck. you let out at surprised gasp when he forced you to bend over once more, removing his hand from your throat to move it into your hair, which he grabbed to pull you back.

you found yourself in the same position as before, your back curved and your head tilted back. you could see him, but instead of the ghostface mask, you saw ethan's angelic face, who wasn't actually so angelic.

his grip on your hair made you groan, and you'd never have suspected this dominance from mindy's number one suspect.

- open your mouth.

damn.

you opened your mouth as he asked, tongue out, with a doe eyed gaze that made him growl. he leaned closer and spat into your mouth.

- swallow it.

and you did. you swallowed without replying under his eager gaze. you stuck out your tongue to prove it, god, you were sure you looked so dirty like that. his gloveless hand found its way to your cheek, and he patted it before caressing it with a delicacy that contradicted the brutality of his strokes that made you stammer.

- that’s it. you’re being very good baby.

the praise pushed you to give him a fucked up smile. the more time passed, the more you felt that knock in your lower belly. you were close,and ethan could feel it too by the way you tightened around him.

- s-shit, e-ethan, i’m close.

- i know, baby, cum for me.

with his hand pulling your hair tighter so he could get a better view of your face to see you cum, before long, you were cumming and felt your legs trembling under the intensity, and when you came, you let out the prettiest sound without worrying whether your neighbors heard you or not.

he let go of your hair, and both his hands bestially gripped your hips, he was close too, you felt overstimulated but you knew he was going to cum soon so you

let him use you. he muttered "fuck" under his breath, and cummed as he sank deep inside you, stopping his thrusts to stay deep inside you. he tilted his head back, his adam's apple perfectly visible and you didn't have to look at him to know he must be incredibly beautiful like that.

#ethan landry #ethan landry smut #ethan landry x reader #scream #scream 6 #jack champion #scream smut #ethan landry x y/n #chad meeks martin smut #ethan landry one shot #sam carpenter smut #tara carpenter #mindy meeks martin #sam carpenter #richie kirsch #amber freeman #ghostface smut #ghostface #slashers

2K notes · View notes

moonscriptsx · 1 year ago

Text

Daylight || 02 (M)

PART 1

I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

SYNOPSIS: Between the endless flirty banter or secret looks of longing, the line between you and your boss had always been slightly blurred. But when a night out with friends has you and your boss meeting for the first time outside of the workplace, that line starts to become nonexistent as mutual feelings are brought to light.

PAIRING: CEO!Wonwoo x Assistant!Reader [with appearances by Mingyu (a self-proclaimed Cupid extraordinaire), Soonyoung & Joshua as supportive besties, Seungkwan & Seokmin as the life of the party, Seungcheol (a menace), and a brief glimpse of Chan.]

GENRE: Coworkers→Friends→Lovers!AU – Fluff + Smut [minors dni]

WORDS: 12.7k.

WARNINGS: Slowburn, pining from both ends. Reader is constantly in a silent crisis when it comes to feelings, and Wonwoo is possessive (both in and out of the bedroom). Mentions of alcohol, cursing, and grinding on the dancefloor. Wonwoo is a slightly hard!dom but talks you through it so sweetly it'll make you melt. Oral (both recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), messy orgasms. Slight choking, dirty talk, alludes to squirting. Wonwoo is a pussy fiend.

A/N: We've made it to part 2!!! Thank you to everyone who left messages/comments on the first part! Seeing such positive feedback has made my heart soar to the heavens and honestly a little emotional hahahaha. This is the first thing I've written in almost 4 years so I was a little apprehensive when it came to posting 'cause I felt like I was incredibly rusty. Anyway, enough blabbering from me – I hope everyone enjoys the final part! 🥰

PLAYLIST: wonder by shawn mendes // right here by chase atlantic // with me by sum41 // never let me go by florence + the machine // love (feat. zacari) by kendrick lamar // wfm by realestk // mine (feat. drake) by beyonce // fine line by harry styles

The pounding in your head is a telltale sign of a night well spent when you wake up the next day, a groan emitting from your lips. Somehow Soonyoung had convinced everyone to migrate from the club to a karaoke bar halfway through the night, resulting in you stumbling home drunk off your ass at half past three in the morning. And while a hangover is a sign of a successful night out — you want nothing more than to shove your face back into your pillow.

Just as you maneuver yourself to dive back under the covers, your phone buzzes from beside you, the ringer doing absolutely nothing to aid your headache as you blindly reach for the device, not bothering to look at the caller.

“Hello?” You grumble, irritated at the disruption.

A deep chuckle ringing in your ear has your body shooting straight up from your bed.

“Rough night, sweetheart?” Wonwoo’s voice is teasing and you can’t help but feel your face flush at the endearing term.

“I — Mr. Jeon!” You stutter out, face flushing with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I didn’t check to see who was calling before I answered.”

“Understandable,” he reassures. “With the amount of drinks we had last night I don’t blame you for sleeping in.”

Sleeping in…?

Bringing the phone away from your ear, you glance at the time on your phone.

10:45 am.

“Oh, fuck!” You cursed, ripping the covers away from your body as you scrambled to get out of bed. From the receiving end, Wonwoo can’t help but laugh as he hears the commotion on your side.

“Mr. Jeon, I'm so sorry —!”

“It’s quite alright, sweetheart,” there he goes again, using the term of endearment like it doesn’t send your heart hammering a mile a minute in your chest. “I just got to the office not too long ago. It’s not a big deal.”

But it is a big deal, you thought to yourself. Not once in the two years that you’ve been Wonwoo’s assistant have you ever been late. You pride yourself on being punctual, making sure to get to the office at least thirty minutes before you were scheduled just so that you could get everything set up and ready to go by the time you had to clock in.

“Sir I’m —“

“(Y/N),” Your breath catches in your throat at the sound of your name. “Are you in the office right now?”

Your eyebrows furrow at that.

“No,” you reply, confused.

“So why the formalities then?”

“I —“ you pause, trying to catch your breath from the sudden question. “You’re my boss. Am I not supposed to address you as such?”

“After last night, I’ve come to realize I don’t want you to call me anything but my name.”

Your face grows hotter at his words, flashes of the two of you unabashedly grinding against one another in the club fills your mind, and you’re sucking in a harsh breath as you try to ignore the heat growing in between your legs.

“Last night was kind of crazy, huh?” You bite your lip in nervousness, trying to steady your rapid heartbeat.

“It wasn’t enough for me.”

Oh, you thought to yourself. I’m fucked…

“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, and you can hear him sigh at the sound of his name.

There’s a brief silence on the other end and you’re starting to think maybe he’s regretting everything from last night to this morning until you hear his hum of approval.

“Anyways,” Wonwoo clears his throat. “Take your time getting to the office, sweetheart. You deserve a peaceful start to the morning.”

A soft hum escapes you at his words, an eyebrow quirking in amusement as you balance the phone between your ear and shoulder.

“Are you sure?” You muse, teasingly. “I’m scared the office will be in shambles by the time I get there.”

A chuckle reverberates from the receiving end, butterflies filling your stomach as your boss tuts quietly.

“I’ll have you know that Mingyu is doing a fine job —“

“No I’m not!” There’s a groan in the background, a giggle escaping your lips as you hear a scuffle on the other end. “He’s torturing me, (Y/N)!”

“I am not,” Wonwoo scoffs.

“He’s making me wait on hand and foot for him!”

You let out a full blown laugh at that, shaking your head at Mingyu’s dramatics.

“Aw, poor baby,” you coo. “He’s not used to having to do things for someone else.”

“Excuse me — hey!”

There’s a distant bang on the receiver, the sound of a lock clicking through the phone and Mingyu’s distant shouts as you realize Wonwoo had closed the door to his office.

“I should give him more work,” you hear your boss grumble. “He’s been far too happy these days.”

“I have some ideas,” you muse in response, making Wonwoo chuckle.

“Good,” he hums. “We can go over them when you get here.”

It’s half past twelve in the afternoon when you finally make it into the office, in a much happier mood than you are usually in when you arrive in the morning. An iced coffee is in your right hand while you carry your laptop bag in the other, greeting every scowling face you pass by as you make your way to your desk. Placing your belongings onto your station, you pay no mind to the mass of missed calls as you push open the door to your boss’s office. There’s a playful smile painted on your lips as you cross your arms over your chest, body leaning against the doorframe as Wonwoo looks up from his computer, the man smirking as he sits back against his chair.

“There she is,” he greets. “Did you have a nice morning?”

“I slept peacefully,” you respond. “But I was rudely awakened by a phone call.”

“Oh?” He asks with mock concern. “And who dares to wake the princess from her slumber?”

You bite back a smile, adjusting your weight from one foot to the other, and give him a pointed gaze.

“My asshole boss.”

Your response has Wonwoo throwing his head back, a genuine laugh escaping him as he grins at your words.

“Touche,” he beams. “It’s been a dull morning without you here.”

It’s a genuine sentiment that makes your heart pound against your ribcage, those damned butterflies fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach, and you can feel your cheeks heat up as you bashfully break eye contact. Clearing your throat, you try to get a hold of the nervousness as you shoot him a questioning glance.

“Was Mingyu not keeping you enough company?” You ask.

“Not the kind of company I had hoped for.”

Wonwoo’s words make your breath catch in your throat, his sharp gaze heated underneath the thick rims of his glasses, and you felt your mouth go dry as you watched him lean back against his chair. Broad shoulders are slouched in comfort, his toned chest visibly defined through the tight fabric of his shirt. His sleeves are carelessly buttoned up to his elbows, the muscles of his arms making you want to salivate at the sight, and you can only blink at him before you snap out of your daze.

Unfolding your arms, you push yourself off of the doorway and gesture towards your desk placed right outside his office.

“I should get to work,” you murmur, making Wonwoo frown. “I'm already hours behind and I’m sure Mingyu didn’t do much to help.”

Not waiting around to hear his response, you turn on your heel and tread back to your desk, all the while trying to keep your heartbeat steady and those damn butterflies out of your stomach.

“Kim Mingyu, I'm going to murder you.”

The grumble falls out dejectedly from your lips as you glare at the screen in front of you, mentally cursing the tall businessman into oblivion. Not only had he rearranged the setup of your email, he had completely screwed up the excel sheet for next week’s company meeting. Every detail you had notated for Wonwoo was now scattered and jumbled amongst the cells as they sat in completely different categories than they had been previously. If you had been one of those old cartoon characters, you were certain that steam would be coming out of your ears.

Inhaling sharply, you crack your knuckles and your neck before hastily getting to work. The setback of sleeping in this morning has its consequences as you sit at your desk and try – keyword: try – to fix the absolute shitstorm that Mingyu had left behind. A task which ended up turning into hours upon hours of you clicking from cell to cell, meticulously moving each key point back to its designated section. There’s a slight sting in your eyes as your vision blurred from having to stare at the screen for so long, and you huff in annoyance as you save the excel spreadsheet, mentally waving a white flag as you give up on the document for the day.

Running your hands over your face, you glance at the clock at the bottom left of your screen.

05:54 PM.

Sighing in annoyance, you glance around the office. Most of your co-workers had left right at five, not wanting to spend another minute stuck in their cubicle. Had you not slept in, you would’ve gotten out sooner rather than later, but you wanted to make up for the time (and mistakes Mingyu had made) lost.

Hovering your cursor over your email, you clicked the envelope and stared at the unread emails on your screen. A quick glance over the senders names has you instantly weaning out the priority ones from the junk ones, before you’re opening one from Seungcheol. Skimming over his response, you can feel the air in your lungs tighten as your gaze freezes over the last sentence of his response.

Ms. (Y/N),

Your speedy response as well as the insight you have provided is much appreciated! It’s nice to know that the man I am working on this project with has such a reliable and efficient staff working for him. Please tell Wonwoo I am looking forward to this meeting next week.

P.S; I did not realize a congratulations was in order for the two of you! I wish you a happy and healthy marriage! Many blessings to you both.

Choi Seungcheol – Personal Representative of Choi Industries

Glancing at the email Mingyu had sent from your account earlier that morning, your blood runs cold as your gaze darts to the signature printed on the screen below your response.

Much regards, Jeon (Y/N).

“KIM MINGYU!”

You’re fuming as you bolt out of your chair and yell out into the quiet office space, the quickened pace of your heart pumping loudly in your ears as your angered footsteps walk away from your desk and down the hallway into Mingyu’s office. If looks could kill you knew he would be dead as his eyes widened, a pleading - almost puppy like - gaze falling on yours as he raised his hands in defense.

“I didn’t do it!” He denies, and you can only grit your teeth at the businessman.

“Bullshit,” you spat. “You were the only one on my computer today.”

“How do you know that?” He asks, defensively. “You were out all morning. Someone else could’ve used it.”

“Don’t play with me, Gyu,” you grit out harshly. “This is my job you’re messing with!”

Mingyu’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“What are you talking about?” He questioned. “All I did was rearrange a few things -”

“My email signature!” You yelled, anger flaring through your veins as realization crossed his features. “Are you out of your fucking mind?!”

The defensive expression on Mingyu’s face washes into a smug one, brown eyes dancing with mischief as he smirks and crosses his arms over his broad chest.

“Oh, that,” he muses. “You don’t like it?”

“I am going to murder you,” you bite out, making Mingyu’s smirk widen into a shameless grin.

“It’s not that big of a deal -”

“What’s going on?”

You instinctively freeze at the deep rumble from behind you, eyes widening in alarm as you give Mingyu a warning glance. The man in front of you only beamed in delight as he leaned around your frame from where he sat at his desk to grin at your boss who was now standing behind you.

“Your assistant is threatening me,” he states, pointing a finger in your direction. “I don’t feel safe in this workplace.”

Wonwoo purses his lips, giving Mingyu an accusing glance.

“I’m sure it’s for good reason,” he muses. “She doesn’t just threaten anyone.”

“You’re taking her side?!” The businessman whines, slouching in defeat. “None of you in this office have my back.”

Your glare hardens as you stare at the man before you.

“Maybe if you weren’t such an insufferable prick we’d be a lot nicer.”

Mingyu’s mouth drops open at your words, hurt flashing across his features as his face falls.

“(Y/N),” he murmurs. “It was a joke.”

You could feel Wonwoo take a step closer towards you, the warmth of his body mere centimeters from your back as he towers over your frame to glare at Mingyu.

“What did you do?”

He doesn’t even have to raise his voice to get his point across, the harsh tone a warning in itself as he glowers at his friend.

Mingyu lowers his head in defeat.

“I changed her email signature,” he mutters, shamefully.

Wonwoo’s jaw sets.

“Changed it to what?” He asks. Mingyu’s gaze is still locked on the papers scattered on his desk.

“Jeon (Y/N).”

A wave of embarrassment crosses your features at Mingyu’s words as you fight off the heat that floods your cheeks. From behind you, you can feel Wonwoo inhale sharply, followed by an exasperated exhale falling from the CEO as he inched closer to your form. A fleeting touch of his fingers brushing against the small of your back has you freezing on the spot, your body not willing to move an inch as Wonwoo’s presence looms over you.

There’s a pregnant pause, no breaths taken, until a soft rumble reverberates against your back.

“Well,” Wonwoo begins, a smirk of amusement playing on his lips. “That explains the influx of texts and emails congratulating me on my marriage.”

A sharp turn of your head has your gaze falling on the amused CEO behind you, your eyes widening in shock as you stare at your boss. Mingyu lets out a bark of a laugh, a sigh of relief escaping him as Wonwoo’s eyes glint in the lights, his glasses long forgotten in his office as he quirked an eyebrow at you.

You’re rendered speechless at the two men, completely taken off guard at their unbothered stance on the matter at hand. Your weary gaze meets Wonwoo’s humorous one, your boss offering you a reassuring smile before he’s looking towards Mingyu.

“Go change it back,” he orders, giving his friend a warning look. Mingyu’s amusement diminishes instantaneously.

“Aw, c’mon,” he groans. “Is it really that big of a deal?!”

“Yes,” you grit harshly, glaring at the tall brunette. “It’s unprofessional.”

Mingyu pouts, eyes darting back and forth between you and Wonwoo.

“It wouldn’t be if it was true.”

His murmured words have your fists clenching at your sides, your lips parting to scold him once more when Wonwoo places a hand on your shoulder, urging you to stay quiet.

“Now.”

Mingyu flinches at Wonwoo’s order, his head hanging low shamefully as he begrudgingly pushes himself away from his desk. Wonwoo’s hand stays put on your shoulder, slender fingers gently grasping your body as he subtly pulls you into him as his friend trudges out of the office.

“And Mingyu?” He calls out, making his friend freeze on the spot as he half turns to look back at his boss. “Go pick up the food I ordered from Dae’s.”

Mingyu’s mouth falls open, a whine escaping him.

“What?!” He splutters, helplessly. “She’s the assistant -”

“And she’s assisting me with something else,” Wonwoo cuts him off. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

Closing his mouth, Mingyu hesitates, brown eyes scanning the two of you before he’s rolling them with a huff and walking away. You’re glued to the spot as Wonwoo’s sharp gaze falls on you, a frown painted across his lips. Without his glasses, there’s nothing shielding the piercing look in his eyes as he leans in closer towards you. There’s a flash of sadness crossing his features as he presses gently against you, his big hands finding purchase on the edge of Mingyu’s desk as he cages you between it.

“Mr. Jeon –”

“Wonwoo,” he corrects.

The deep rumble of his voice vibrates against your chest as he peers down at you, neck bent slightly as he lowers himself to level his gaze with yours.

“What’s going on?” You ask, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat as heat flares through your body.

Wonwoo’s frown deepens.

“Would it be so bad?” He asks, making you shoot him a confused look. You’re about to ask him what he means when he cuts you off. “Being my wife?”

Those damned butterflies flutter away in the pit of your stomach at his questions, your eyes widening in shock, and your lips part in surprise as you stare at the man in front of you. The close proximity of his body against yours has heat flaring through your veins as his warmth engulfs you, completely overtaking your senses as his hands move from the desk to slide along your arms.

“I – What..?”

Your spluttering doesn’t falter his movements once, his intense gaze boring into yours as his fingers glide along the expanse of your arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“It’s a yes or no question, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his warm breath fanning against your cheek as his hands reach up to gently grasp your face.

You can’t help but to relish in his touch, eyes closing as you melt into his warmth, and your breath catches in your throat as he brushes his nose against yours.

“Answer me, (Y/N).”

Letting your fingers grasp around his wrists, you fight to catch your breath as you manage to meet his gaze despite the overwhelming fluttering happening in the pit of your stomach.

“No,” you finally answer. “It wouldn’t.”

Wonwoo’s grip on your face tightens, his eyes darkening with desire, and his lip curls upwards as he looks at you.

“I could make you my wife,” he states, and you almost whine with want as his lips brush against yours with every word. “Just say the word, sweetheart, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Mr. Jeon –”

“Wonwoo,” he growls, pulling you flush against him as his lips hover yours. “Call me anything but my name again and I’ll show you what happens to girls who don’t listen.”

A shaky breath escapes you at his words and you can’t fight back the shutter of anticipation as his lips ghost along the corner of yours.

“Wonwoo,” you breathe out, making him hum in response. “We can’t.”

“We can,” he reassures, and it takes everything in you to draw back from him.

“No,” you deny, even though every instinct in your body is screaming the opposite. “We can’t.”

Wonwoo clenches his jaw, lips pressed into a tight line, and he glowers at you as he shoots you a disapproving look.

“And why not?” He asks, gritting his teeth. “What are you so afraid of?”

“Well, for starters, you’re my boss,” you begin, trying to push away the heat pooling between your thighs as Wonwoo’s gaze pierces through yours. “That’s an HR violation that I don’t want to have attached to my name.”

“I can take care of that,” he counters. “Any violation towards you will be overruled.”

“That can be considered as nepotism,” you point out. “People are going to think I slept my way to the top.”

Anger flashes in his eyes.

“If anyone says anything negative towards you or about you I’ll have them blacklisted in all regions of this goddamn country,” he growls.

“Wonu.”

Cautiously you reach forward, your hands cupping his face as you try to settle the rage within him. His eyes are blazing into yours, a fire lit within the darkened irises, and he’s gripping your wrists like a lifeline.

“I mean it,” he affirms. “You’ve been with me for two years. Twenty-four months, (Y/N). You have shown nothing but loyalty towards me, and towards this company. You are the hardest working woman I’ve ever encountered, and the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

Your heart swells at his words, a shaky breath escaping you as he presses you back against Mingyu’s desk.

“You have never been just my assistant,” he murmurs. “And you know it.”

There are a million sirens blaring in your brain, signaling for you to back off, to pull away and resist the urges. But with Wonwoo’s warm breath fanning against your cheek, his sharp nose gently brushing against yours, there’s no hesitation within you as you card your fingers through his hair and pull him towards you, your lips pressing firmly against his.

A groan of approval reverberates against your mouth as Wonwoo clutches your body against his, the tall stature of his frame enveloping yours as he bends you back against the desk. The heat emitting off of his body courses through your veins as his needy lips move against yours, his hands dropping to grip the back of your thighs as he lifts you up onto the desk. Your nails dig into the nape of his neck as his tongue runs along the seam of your lips, begging for you to part them as he wraps your legs around his hips. A moan escapes you as your lips part, allowing Wonwoo’s tongue to meet yours in a haste that leaves you breathless.

You’re drawing back from him, in what was supposed to be a brief moment to catch your breath, but he’s chasing your lips with no hesitation. Greedy hands are gliding along your thighs before he’s clutching them, blunt nails digging into the flesh as he marks them with his touch. The action draws a mewl from you, a desperate whine escaping your lips as you reciprocate the action by digging your nails into his back. Wonwoo growls against your mouth.

“Are you challenging me?” He asks, words muffled against your lips. You smirk in response.

“Maybe,” you tease coyly, making him draw back from you.

There’s a dangerous glint in his eyes and he’s pulling you even closer towards him until your clothed cunt is pressed against his hardening bulge. The hand that held your thigh starts to slither upwards, calloused fingers teasingly brushing against the hem of your lace panties as Wonwoo dips his head into the crook of your neck.

His tongue flattens against the juncture that’s between your shoulder and your neck before he’s grazing his teeth along your skin, your breath catching in your throat when you feel him run his fingers along your clothed core. He smirks against your skin when you mewl in response, your hips lifting off of the desk as an attempt to gain more friction. Wonwoo tuts under his breath, digits teasingly brushing against your panties.

“Needy girl,” he remarks, nipping playfully at your neck. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already soaked for me.”

You groan at his words, back arching as you try to press yourself flush against him.

“I’m always soaked for you,” you confess, and you nearly shiver at the flash of desire that sparks within his dark eyes.

“Yeah?” He asks, fingers now gripping the hem of your panties. “Have you been thinking about me, sweetheart?”

You can only moan in reply, hissing when the cool air of the office hits your bare pussy as Wonwoo slides your panties down your legs.

“Do you think about me being underneath your desk? About me being on my knees with my head between your thighs while I lick your cunt?”

Wonwoo’s words sends heat straight to your core, a whimper escaping you as he’s teasingly sliding his digits along your folds so he can coat them in your arousal. You could almost cry with the amount of tension between your thighs, your cunt begging to be touched as he levels his face with yours, dark eyes fueled with desire as they meet yours.

“Or do you think about me bending you over my desk and fucking you from behind?” You watch as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, his tongue licking your arousal clean off of them.

The lewd sight has you keening with want, your hands reaching out to grab his belt buckle as you blindly undo his pants. Wonwoo clenches his teeth before catching your wrist and pinning it next to you on the desk. The action causes you to smirk up at him, a feigned innocence playing on your features.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he grits, making the smirk on your face widen.

“Oh, I have every intent of finishing you.”

Wonwoo opens his mouth to retort when the distant ‘ding’ of the elevator echoes in the hallway, your eyes widening in alarm, and you hastily push your boss away from you as you scramble to climb off of Mingyu’s desk. Standing back on your feet, you can’t even spare a glance toward the man who just had his tongue down your throat (and who is now shoving your forgotten panties in his pocket) as you straighten your skirt and power walk back to your desk, trying to ignore the aching that settled between your thighs.

“Are you going to tell us what the emergency meeting is for?”

Soonyoung and Joshua’s worried gazes make you want to shrink into the booth, the after effects of what you and Wonwoo had done in Mingyu’s office weighing on you like a dumbbell crushing your chest. You had fucked up and let your desire get the best of you instead of listening to the rational part of your brain — and it was eating you alive.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you guiltily look down at the menu on the table.

“Something happened between Wonwoo and I,” you muttered, shamefully.

Soonyoung and Joshua blink, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Isn’t… isn’t that what you wanted…?” Joshua asks, and you frown.

“Well, yes, but —“

“No but’s, (Y/N),” Soonyoung tuts. “Clearly you and Wonwoo have feelings for each other. Something was going to happen eventually.”

“Yes, eventually,” you clarify. “Not this soon! Especially not with me and him almost fucking on Mingyu’s desk.”

“WHAT?!”

The sudden outburst from the two of them echoes in the diner, earning dirty looks from the other customers as you palm your face in embarrassment. Your cheeks grow hot as shame washes over your body, a groan escaping your lips as you peek at your friends, both of which are staring at you with wide eyes and open mouths.

“It just happened, okay,” you defended yourself. “One minute I was telling him we can’t pursue anything and the next I’m on top of Mingyu’s desk with Wonwoo’s tongue down my throat.”

“Okay, first — ew,” Joshua grimaces. “I don’t need a visual.”

“That’s kinda hot, actually,” Soonyoung counters. “Fucking in the workplace? Nice.”

“Shut up,” you hissed, glaring at both of them. “This is a serious issue.”

Joshua purses his lips, his gaze scrutinizing.

“Not really,” he dismisses. “From everything you have told us, it sounds like he reciprocates your feelings, honey.”

“Yeah,” Soonyoung agrees. “And I saw you two at the club the other day. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, both of you are down bad.”

You roll your eyes at Soonyoung’s words, scoffing as you take a sip of your water.

“And besides,” he continues. “He’s your friend —“

“He’s my boss,” you reiterate. “I’m his assistant, Soonyoung. That’s unprofessional.”

“It’s only unprofessional if you make it unprofessional,” Joshua states. “I’m sure if the two of you became official you’re not going to flaunt it at the office.”

“Even if they did, who cares?” Soonyoung shrugs. “Employee relationships happen all the time.”

“Yes, employee’s date each other. Not bosses and their assistants.”

“I don’t know if I believe that,” Joshua clicks his tongue in disapproval. “Have you ever watched ‘The Nanny’?”

“Seriously, Shua?” You rolled your eyes. “First off, that’s a TV show, meaning it’s fictional. Secondly — she was his nanny, not his assistant.”

“But the point still stands,” he continues. “The two of them fell in love regardless of their positions. And they didn’t care who found out or what would come of it.”

You sigh, knowing he’s right.

“HR is going to have a field day with this,” you muttered. “And I’m going to get fired.”

Soonyoung shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink.

“Who cares,” he dismisses. “You can’t help who you gain feelings for. And, besides, if you get fired Wonwoo can take care of you.”

“I don’t need someone to take care of me,” you snapped. “I want to keep my job.”

“And he’ll make sure you will,” Joshua reassured you, gently placing his hand on yours. “But you have to talk to him, (Y/N). He has feelings too.”

Your shoulders slump in defeat at his words, a heaviness weighing on your heart, before you’re reluctantly nodding.

“You’re right,” you concede. “I’ll talk to him.”

Settling back against the booth cushions, Joshua offers you a smile of encouragement before he’s picking his menu up from the table.

“Alright, now who’s hungry?”

You did not, in fact, talk to Wonwoo.

Instead, for the first time in the two years that you had been working for him, you called out sick.

You knew that Joshua and Soonyoung were right when they told you to talk to Wonwoo, to lay out all feelings and thoughts in order to understand what it was that was going on between the two of you. But the mere thought of being in a room with him after what had happened in Mingyu’s office and the thought of not being able to trust yourself around him was too much, that all of the pent up feelings and tension would end up causing both of you to snap and make a move that would ultimately change your dynamic forever – as if it hadn’t already.

You knew that if Mingyu hadn’t gotten back to the office at the time that he did, the situation between you and Wonwoo most definitely would have escalated into something more. You knew that Wonwoo had been seconds away from dropping to his knees and spreading your legs, licking and sucking until you were a writhing, crying mess on his friend’s desk. And that’s why you called out.

“What do you mean you’re not coming in?” Mingyu had asked, exasperatedly.

“I’m calling out,” you reiterated. “I don’t feel well.”

“I –” Mingyu paused, a heavy sigh following. “Why are you telling me and not Wonwoo?”

There had been a brief pause on your end, your throat tightening as your mind had flashed back to the events days prior.

“Gyu, please. Just tell him I��m not coming in today,” you begged. “I’m sorry.”

You should’ve caught the worried tone that had been in Mingyu’s voice. You should’ve known that he would’ve caught on to your pitiful lie, that he was going to run straight to the source itself to find out what the actual reason for your calling out was.

But most of all, you should’ve predicted that Wonwoo’s persistence and stubbornness would get to the better of him.

A knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you wearily walk over to it and peer out of the peephole, your breath catching in your throat as you stare at the man who stood outside of it.

With his hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks, glasses perched on his nose, and a determined expression on his face stood Wonwoo. Those damned butterflies are fluttering wildly in the pit of your stomach at the sight of your boss, your heart speeding up as you contemplate not answering the door – but you knew better than that. You knew that despite you calling out this morning that Wonwoo was going to want an explanation. That despite your best efforts to deflect from the situation just days before, he was going to want to discuss the matter at hand sooner rather than later.

Taking a deep breath, you allow yourself a moment to collect your composure before opening the door.

You stare dumbfoundedly at your boss, shock lit across your features as you stand in the doorway.

“How – how did you get my address?”

Wonwoo’s expression is stony, his gaze piercing yours through the thick rims of his glasses, and you catch the movement of his jaw clenching as he glares at you.

“You’re avoiding me.”

His tone is cold as he deflects your question and the harshness of his voice makes you wish the ground would open up from beneath you and swallow you whole, all the while suddenly painfully aware that you’re standing in front of your boss in nothing but your oversized sleep shirt.

“I – I’m not avoiding you,” you stuttered out. “I wasn’t feeling well this morning.”

Wonwoo’s eyes narrow into a menacing glare.

“You and I both know that that is a lie.”

Pushing past you, you watch open-mouthed as Wonwoo makes his way into your apartment, a bolt of panic rushing through you as you fumble to close the door behind you. His back is to you as he faces your living room and you watch as his hands slip out of his pockets, fists clenching and unclenching by his sides before he’s turning to look at you in the doorway.

“You called Mingyu,” he bites out, menacingly. “Instead of calling me, your boss, you called Mingyu.”

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, your feet shuffle nervously as your gaze drops to the ground.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you say quietly, making Wonwoo scoff.

“Cut it out, (Y/N),” he spats. “You bother me more often than most of my other employee’s do.”

There’s a blow to your ego at his words as your head snaps up to look at him, hurt flaring in your eyes as you glared right back at your boss.

“Then why keep me around?” You ask, harshly. “If I’m such a fucking bother to you why not fire me?”

Wonwoo grits his teeth, anger flashing in his eyes.

“Because I cannot fathom the idea of my life without you in it!”

The sudden confession knocks the air out of your lungs, your lips parting in shock, and the butterflies multiply tenfold as Wonwoo stares at you with a gaze mixed with fury and desire. You’re frozen to the spot as Wonwoo steps closer, the intensity of his stare igniting your body on fire as the warmth of him envelops you.

“Whether it’s having you as my assistant or to just simply bask in your presence,” he begins, his voice lowering. “The thought of not seeing you even for a day makes me want to go crazy.”

Your back presses against the door as he leans in closer, one arm perched above you as he looms over you. Your breath is caught in your throat at the close proximity of him, the scent of his cologne filling your senses and clouding your judgment as he levels his face with yours.

“You’re all I think about, you’re all I dream about,” he continues, gaze softening as he presses closer to you. “You have infiltrated every part of my being since the moment you first walked into my office.”

A shaky breath escapes you as your heart soars at his words, and your hands ache to reach out and hold his face.

“Wonwoo…” You catch the flash of desire in his eyes as you mutter his name. “There is so much at stake for me if we pursue this. I could lose my job –”

“I will take care of you,” he cuts you off, matter-of-factly. “I know that’s probably not what you want to hear but if it comes down to it, I will take care of the damage I’ve caused if it means I get to keep you in my life.”

Your gaze softens at his words.

You knew the stakes, you knew what was going to happen the moment you and Wonwoo solidified crossing the lines – you knew that your position as his assistant was over. Everything you achieved in the last two years had been for him, had been because of him. Wonwoo was your biggest supporter, whether he voiced it or not, and you hadn’t realized until recently that your admiration for his hard work and brilliant business mind had morphed into admiration for him – Jeon Wonwoo. Not the CEO you had worked for day in and day out. It was for the man who encouraged you to speak up in meetings despite your lack of status, the man who would go out of his way to bring you lunch, flowers, or gifts when he knew you were having a bad day. It was for the man who stood before you pouring his heart out despite the repercussions.

With shaky hands you’re reaching out to cup his face, your thumbs gently stroking his defined jaw as you peer up at him.

“I have grown to care for you, Jeon Wonwoo,” you murmur, and Wonwoo lets out a shaky breath as he presses flush against you, trapping you between his body and your front door. “In a way that assistant’s probably shouldn’t care for their bosses.”

A half-hearted laugh escapes him at that, his eyes twinkling in amusement, and you can’t help but to grin up at him. He’s still looming over you with one arm pressed against the doorframe, his other wrapping around your waist before he’s tilting his head down to yours. Warm lips encase themselves around yours and you can feel your heart beating against your ribcage as he kisses you slowly, passion pouring through him. You can feel your breath escape your lungs as you kiss him back, completely relishing in the taste and feel of him pressed against you as he kisses you earnestly.

Drawing back slightly, there’s a fleeting moment between the two of you as you stare into each other’s eyes, a silent acceptance of the lines between you becoming nonexistent, and it’s nothing short of a relief as you’re both pulled by an invisible force back to one another.

Your hands move to entangle themselves in his raven locks, fingers tugging at the roots as your lips fuse together in a frenzy. Wonwoo groans against your mouth as his arms move to wrap around your waist, his body flush against yours as your lips lock in fervor. As he tilts his head to the side, his tongue dips out from his lips to run along the seam of yours, which part almost instantly in response. A deep rumble reverberates from his chest as his tongue traces every nook and cranny of your mouth, almost as if he was memorizing every detail. Wonwoo’s hands move from your waist down to the hem of your sleep shirt before he’s teasingly gripping the hem of it and drawing back from your mouth.

Teeth graze over the skin of your neck as Wonwoo presses you back into the door, nimble fingers sliding underneath the hem of your shirt as he latches onto the pulse point on your neck. Your lips part in a wanton moan as he sucks a mark into your skin, his warm hand encasing around your bare breast. Arching your back into his touch, you’re keening in pleasure as Wonwoo pinches the sensitive bud between his thumb and pointer finger, a smirk dancing across his lips at your response. He’s grazing his nose against your neck before clutching your hips.

“Wanna taste you,” he breathes out, his breath fanning against your skin. “Wanna devour you until your legs are shaking.”

You can barely keep your vision focused on him as you watch him sink to his knees, his sharp gaze piercing into yours as his hands glide from your waist to your thighs, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as you whimper in anticipation. Sneaking them underneath the hem of your shirt, he’s tugging at your panties before pulling them down your legs and tossing them aside. You watch as your boss hitches one leg over his shoulder, his piercing gaze never leaving yours as he leans forward to run the tip of his tongue along your soaked folds.

A moan escapes your lips, your head tilting back and resting against the door, and your fingers tangle in his tresses as he hums appreciatively at your response. Blunt nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as Wonwoo completely sheaths his face between your legs, unabashedly licking at your cunt. Shameless moans are falling from your lips as Wonwoo licks without abandon, his nose pressing into your clit as he mouths and sucks at your core. Your nails are digging into his scalp, body arching off of the door as you relish in the feel of his tongue. Your body feels like it’s on fire as his hands glide underneath your shirt, warm hands encasing around your breasts before he’s squeezing them.

A deep growl resonates from him before his head is completely disappearing underneath your shirt, his mouth flush with your cunt as he grips your beasts, a harsh suck to your clit as he shakes his head from side to side, tongue gliding along your folds in a way that has you crying out into your apartment, his name falling like a mantra from your lips as your hands claw at his clothed back.

“Wonu, oh, fuck…!”

There's a sly smirk dancing across his lips as you feel him tilt his head, the tip of his tongue circling your clit until he’s flattening it, sucking it harshly into his mouth as he hums against you. Heat pools in the pit of your stomach at his ministrations, your chest heaving with pleasure until he’s reaching behind you to grip the flesh of your ass and pulling your cunt flush to his mouth.The pressure of his tongue flicking against your clit is enough to have you unraveling against him, a cry of his name escaping you as your body does exactly what he wanted it to.

Your thighs clamped around his head as he brought you to your release, your nails clawing at his clothed back as you lurch forward in pleasure. He’s lazily lapping at your folds, licking the remnants of your essence up as you tremble in ecstasy. The soft kitten licks at your core have you whimpering from the overstimulation before you can make out the muffled groan from underneath your shirt as Wonwoo draws back, his face shining with remnants of your arousal as he licks his lips. His hair sticks up slightly from being trapped between your legs, the glasses that were perched on his nose completely fogged up, and the sight of your boss’s disheveled appearance is so erotic it gives you enough incentive to fist your hands through his hair before pulling him up to you.

You taste your arousal on his tongue as his lips meet yours, your hands fumbling with the buttons on his shirt before you’re undoing them and all but ripping the fabric off of him. A growl reverberates into your mouth as he grips your thighs and hauls you up, locking your legs around his waist.

“Where’s your room?” He asks, words muffled against your lips.

“Down the hall to the right.”

It’s a clash of tongues and teeth as he’s gripping you close to him, blindly navigating the two of you down the hall and kicking your bedroom door closed before he’s laying you on your bed. Your nails rake down the expanse of his broad back as he tugs your shirt up and over your head, throwing it carelessly as he revels in the sight of your naked body in front of him. His hungry gaze rakes along every bump and curve, his glasses slipping down his nose as he takes in the sight.

His tongue pokes out to wet his lips before he’s leaning down to hover over your body.

“You’re fucking exquisite,” he breathes out, greedy hands plucking at your nipples as he sucks a mark into your chest. “Better than any dream I’ve ever had.”

Your breath hitches at his words, another pool of arousal flooding between your thighs as you arch into his touch.

“You’ve dreamt of me?” You ask breathlessly, and Wonwoo lifts his head from your chest to give you a look full of desire.

“Sweetheart, I’ve dreamt of you every night since the day you’ve stepped into my office.”

You mewl as his lips enclose around your pert nipple, his teeth clamping around the bud as he tugs harshly before encasing his mouth around the mound, your body arching off the bed as you cry out in pleasure. Wonwoo smirks against your breast, his hand kneading the other before he’s switching to enclose his mouth around the other. Gripping onto his broad shoulders, you’re rolling your hips against his clothed cock.

“Tell me,” you whimper, reaching a hand in between your bodies to pluck the button on his slacks. “Tell me about everything you’ve dreamt of.”

Wonwoo growls against your skin as you undo his slacks, his teeth gritting when he feels you slide your hand into his briefs and grab onto his growing cock. Grabbing onto your wrists, he’s pinning them above your head as he hovers over your body, a menacing look in his eyes.

“You want to know everything, sweetheart?” He asks, the term of endearment dripping from him like velvet and you mewl as you wriggle in his grasp. “You want me to tell you about how I've spent countless nights envisioning you underneath me, taking my cock every which way until there were tears streaming down your face?”

A shameless moan wracks from you as his hold on your wrists tightens, his eyes darkening in desire as he rolls his hips into yours.

“You want to know about all the thoughts I’ve had of you tied to my bedpost, red silk on your wrists and your body all mine to use?”

Wonwoo growls as his free hand slithers down your body, his fingers dipping to your cunt as he coats them in your arousal.

“Or about how I want to mark every single inch of you to show anyone who even dares to breathe in your direction that you’re mine.”

You mewl, your body writhing underneath him as you try to gain any kind of friction between you that you could. Smirking at your attempts, Wonwoo teasingly runs his digits along your folds, before he’s pushing two past them, not stopping until they’re buried to the knuckle. Your hips grind into his touch as his name falls from your lips, your hands trembling underneath his hold as he scissors the two digits against your velvety walls.

A coo falls from him as he relishes in the sight of your pleasure-filled expression, his lips twisting into a feline-like smirk as he slips a third finger inside, his thumb pressing against your clit as he flicks his wrist, the digits delving deeper inside of you as he thumbs against your sensitive bud.

“But the thought I’ve had that’s haunted me since day one,” the smirk never falters from his face as he peers down at you with desire. “Is the thought of you soaking every inch of my bed as I make you cum over and over again. And, while, this isn’t my bed – it’ll do for now.”

Your mouth opens in a soundless scream, your back arching off the bed as Wonwoo slips a fourth finger inside of you, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit before he’s pressing down onto the bundle of nerves. Pleasure shoots up your body as you claw at the one that was pinning yours to the bed, nails digging into the back of his hand as he curls the digits inside of you. They’re brushing against a spot that has your thighs clenching around his wrist, a sadistic grin dancing across your boss’s lips as he watches you writhe under his ministrations.

“Wonwoo, please,” you beg, sobbing with pleasure. “Please – oh fuck, let me cum, please.”

Your voice is broken, muddled into cries of desire as he palms your clit, and he’s leaning down to lick a stripe down the valley of your breasts. His eyes are completely locked on your pleasure ridden face as he litters marks along your body, teeth sinking into any visible part of your flesh he can reach.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coos, smirking deviously. “Give it to me.”

The heel of his palm is ruthless against your clit and your body is folding in half as your thighs clamped around his wrist, a shriek of his name reverberating off of the walls as his fingers curl against the spot that sends your body into overdrive. There’s a tightening in your lower body that sends a flash of heat through you, your eyes clamping shut as you cum – hard.

Wonwoo growls at the sight before him, his desire filled eyes taking in the sight of your arousal dripping down your thighs and soaking your sheets, and he’s speeding up his ministrations on your clit. His sharp gaze is locked on your pulsating cunt while your body reels into overstimulation, cries of pleasure ripping from your throat as your cunt leaks shamelessly. Your back is completely arched off of the bed, fluids leaking from your core, and you’re almost crying out of relief when Wonwoo slips his fingers out of you and loosens his grip on your hands – only for you to grip his hair when he latches his mouth onto your overstimulated cunt.

He’s licking with no abandon, lewdly slurping every last drop of your release as you sob with pleasure. His arms are tucked underneath your thighs as he pulls you until you’re completely sheathed against his mouth. The overstimulation has you writhing against him, and you’re mustering up enough strength to push his head away as you let your body come down from the intense release.

Wonwoo chuckles as he watches you sink into the sheets, cooing at you as exhaustion washes over your pleasure ridden body. Soft kisses are littered along the inners of your thighs, and Wonwoo peers up at you through his eyelashes as you tiredly lift your head from the bed.

“You’re doing so good,” he praised, softly nipping at the flesh of your thigh. “My good girl.”

Despite the intense orgasm you had just experienced, your cunt pulsates with desire at his praise. Biting the inside of your lip, you’re whining softly as you tug at his hair, ushering him up to you. Wonwoo lets a wild grin grace his lips as he allows you to pull him up, his lips slotting against yours lazily as he cages you between his body and the bed. Shaky hands make their way down the expanse of his chest and Wonwoo gasps against your lips when you tug his slacks down, a foot sliding between his legs so that you can push them off of him.

“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, trying to break away from your lips only to have you grab the back of his head to keep him still. “What are you doing?”

A mischievous glint is in your eyes as you shoot Wonwoo a filthy smirk, your hands clutching at his biceps before you’re mustering enough strength to roll the two of you over and pinning him to the bed. Your lips trail from his down to his jaw, teeth grazing over the sharp definition as your hips settle over his. Your hands are trapping his wrists and pressing them into the mattress as you trail your tongue over his neck. Wonwoo growls underneath you, his sharp eyes glaring at you through the thick rims of his glasses.

“I can’t be the only one having fun,” you coo, teasingly against his skin.

Wonwoo grits his teeth as yours graze over his skin, a hiss falling from him when he feels you suck a mark into the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Don’t worry about me,” he bites out, wrists breaking free from your weakened hold. You ‘tsk’ at him, breaking away from his neck to frown.

“It’s my job to take care of you,” you affirm, shooting him a pointed look, and you can only bite back a smirk when Wonwoo’s lips curl into a snarl. “Let me take care of you, Mr. Jeon.”

A near pornographic groan escapes your boss’s lips at your words and you can’t help but to grin with satisfaction, your lips trailing from his neck to the expanse of his chest. You keen with satisfaction as Wonwoo’s fingers tangle in the tresses of your hair while you litter marks down his chest, peering up at him through your eyelashes as you reach the hem of his briefs. A salacious smirk paints your lips as you tug at them, discarding the garment without care as your tongue trails along the patch of hair leading to his bulging cock.

Your gaze never breaks from his as you situate yourself between his toned thighs, your hand wrapping around him as your lips part to lick at the beads of precum dripping from his tip. The grip he has on your hair tightens as you coat his head with it, a soft hum escaping you before you’re descending onto his cock. Wonwoo tenses, the sharp tug on your tresses making you whine against his cock, and he groans in ecstasy as your tongue lolls around him. He’s gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he struggles to keep his eyes open to peer down at you, completely mesmerized by the sight of you in between his legs. Inhaling through your nose, you suck in a breath of air before taking him in until his tip brushes the back of your throat, your hand reaching to cup his balls.

“(Y/N)...”

Wonwoo’s growl only encourages you further as you slide completely off of him, a smirk on your lips before you descend once more until he’s sheathed back into the warm cavern of your mouth. He’s tugging harshly at your tresses, hips pistoning off of the bed, as he shamelessly thrusts into your mouth. The grip you hold on his balls tightens gently, making expletives fall from the man as you swallow around him. The deep timbre of his voice combined with the harshness of his thrusts and tugs on your hair has your core dripping with anticipation, your body screaming for him to be inside of every part of you.

Wonwoo’s eyes are hooded, gaze full of desire, and he’s watching you bob your head on his cock, swallowing around his girth and knowing that if he let you keep going he wasn’t going to last much longer. So with your hair in his hands, he’s tugging you off of him with a snarl, his grip moving to latch onto your hips as he all but throws you on your back. Your eyes widened at the sudden change of position but then you’re keening in delight as the tip of his cock prods at your dripping cunt, your hands reaching up to claw at his broad back.

“I’m not cumming until I’ve felt your cunt around me first.”

The bite of his words sends another wave of heat flowing through you, your body completely lighting on fire as he guides himself to push past your folds, your lips parting in pleasure as your cunt swallows the thick girth of him. Your nails are clawing at his broad shoulders as Wonwoo’s teeth grit together, his nose brushing against yours as he slides in until he’s completely sheathed to the hilt.

“God, take me,” you moan, wantonly – shamelessly. “Make me yours.”

A cocky smirk dances across your boss’s lips as he draws his hips back, sharp eyes drinking in your naked form as he coos at the sight.

“You want to be mine, sweetheart?” He asks, teasingly. His lips ghost over yours as he moves to grip your wrists in his hands, effectively pinning them above your head. “You think you deserve it?”

A defiant look crosses your features as you peered up at him, a deep frown on your lips as you dig your nails into his skin in retaliation.

“I’m the only one who deserves it.”

Wonwoo’s gaze bores into yours, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk before his hips slam into yours, your back arching at the contact and your nails digging into his wrists as he all but hammers into you.

“Wonwoo – oh, fuck �� !”

He’s mouthing hotly at your bouncing breasts before his teeth clamp around your nipple, tweaking the bud with his tongue as his hips pistoned into yours. Cries of his name fall from your lips as he thrusts relentlessly, sharp eyes peeking over the mounds of your breasts as your body stays arched in pleasure. He’s relishing in the sight, a smirk of satisfaction playing at his lips as he licks his way up your neck, lips hotly pressing into yours as his tongue delves into your mouth.

“You’re mine,” he growls against your lips, teeth biting onto the flesh as he tugs. “Mine.”

He briefly lets go of your wrists only so that he can grip your thigh with one hand, the other keeping your hands pinned above your head. He’s positioning your leg over his shoulder, his body descending onto yours as he rolls his hips, a groan escaping him as your cunt clenches deliciously around him. Your eyes are squeezed shut, completely lost in the intense pleasure of him as he grips onto your calf. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he speeds up once more, teeth gritting with pleasure as he sucks a mark into the sensitive spot on your neck. Your hips rise from the bed as you try to match his movements, a cry of his name falling from you when the head of his cock brushes against a spot that has you seeing stars.

“Right there!” You cry, clenching mercilessly around him. “God, Wonwoo, don’t stop!”

His grip on your leg loosens as he reaches down to press the pad of his thumb against your clit, a sinister smirk painted on his lips as he looks down at you.

“How’s it feel, sweetheart?” He asks, hips speeding up as he thumbs harshly at the sensitive bud. “Knowing that I’m all yours? That I’m only yours.”

You’re writhing beneath him, thrashing under his body in pleasure as his ministrations on your clit grow more erratic. Your vision is blurred with tears of ecstasy, Wonwoo’s name falling from your lips like a broken mantra, and you can only grip his hand as the heat in the pit of your stomach grows with every thrust.

“S- so good,” you stuttered out, completely lost in the feeling of him. “You’re mine, baby. Only mine.”

The term of endearment earns you a growl of approval, Wonwoo prying your lips apart with his mouth as his tongue licks along yours.

“Yeah?” His voice is deep, the timbre laced with husk as he licks into your mouth. “My cock is all yours, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

You keen at his words, a whine falling from your lips as your thighs quiver with pleasure.

“All mine,” you affirm, moaning. Wonwoo smirks against your mouth, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip as he thumbs at your clit with vigor.

“And this is all for me, isn’t it?” His question is spoken into your mouth, tongue sweeping over yours as his hips slam into yours.

“Only you, baby,” you whine, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “I’m yours.”

Wonwoo growls at that, his lips curling into a feline-like smirk as he lets go of your hands – only to grab you by the throat as he lifts you up until your chest is pressed flush against his. Your lips part in surprise at the change of position, one arm wrapped around his broad shoulders as the other fists through his locks, your cunt clenching around him as the new angle drives him to be completely sheathed inside of you as he sits back on his legs to hold you up.

“Damn right, you’re mine.”

Wonwoo’s words are muffled against your lips, the man looking down at you with a fierce glint as his thumb presses to your throat, effectively cutting off the air to your lungs and making your breath hitch. You clutch desperately at his tresses, your nails clawing at the skin of his back as he drills his cock inside of you, his free hand reaching back in between your bodies to rub your sensitive clit as he urges you to cum.

Your lips are parted in a silent cry, the stimulation between his thumb and his cock driving you closer and closer to the edge as your thighs clench around his hips, your back arching in a way that has your chest pressing into his, and the lack of air in your lungs has your head reeling in ecstasy as your high washes over you in a violent wave. You’re trembling beneath his ministrations, your cunt clenching deliciously around Wonwoo’s length as he coos at you, his thumb releasing off of your throat as you gasp.

“Mm, my good girl,” he praises, hands clutching your hips. “Where do you want me?”

The relentless drills of his hips against yours has you fighting to catch your breath as you struggle to answer him. Wonwoo’s rhythm grows erratic as he nears closer, your body arching into his movements as you clutch his shoulders in order to stay upright.

“My – my mouth,” you manage to breathe out, making Wonwoo smirk in anticipation.

You almost regret answering him when you feel him pulling out of you, the brisk air hitting your now empty cunt as Wonwoo settles you on your knees. His hand encases around your head as he pushes past your parted lips, groaning when his cock hits your tongue. You mewl around him, jaw slack and eyes locked on his as your tongue laps lazily at his leaking tip, swallowing every last drop of his release. His fingers tangle in your hair as he thrusts harshly into your mouth, the head of his cock brushing against the back of your throat as he cums. A hum of delight escapes you as you lewdly lap up the remnants of his release, your name falling from his lips as he tilts his head back in ecstasy.

His glasses slid off the bridge of his nose from the beads of sweat that had collected there and landed carelessly next to you on the bed, his sharp eyes softening into a look that was nothing short of adoration. His fingers release their grip on your tresses as his hands cup your face, his cock sliding out of your mouth as he lifts you to slot his lips against yours.

Humming against your mouth, Wonwoo’s thumbs graze your cheeks as he draws back to look into your eyes.

“You did so well for me, sweetheart,” he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours. “Such a good girl for me.”

Your heart swells in your chest as you relish in his touch, your body completely spent from the intensity you had just experienced, and your eyes hood over in exhaustion as Wonwoo gingerly lays you back against the pillows. The warmth of his body envelops yours as he holds you close to him. A half-hearted smile paints itself on your lips as you reach up to trace the outline of his lips, a hint of sadness ghosting over your expression.

“You realize this means I can’t work for you anymore, right?”

Your soft murmur makes Wonwoo frown, and you almost whimper with hurt at the crestfallen look on his face.

“I know,” he answers quietly, offering you a small smile. “But that doesn’t mean I’m losing you.”

Wonwoo turns his head to meet your softening expression, his gaze boring into yours as he clutches you to him.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he continues, nuzzling his nose against yours. “I will take care of you, (Y/N). I will fix any damage I’ve done to your career, to your reputation – just as long as I get to keep you in my life… If you even want me after all of this.”

“How could I not want you?” You asked, quietly. “You are everything and more to me, Wonwoo. It just took me a couple years to realize it.”

Wonwoo chuckles at that before leaning down to place a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Even if I cost you your job?”

You purse your lips at that, pretending to think before looking up at him in amusement.

“I can think of some ways you could make it up to me,” you teased, making Wonwoo growl playfully. “Starting with a bath – hey!”

Wordlessly you’re being lifted in his arms, a shriek of surprise escaping you as Wonwoo tosses you over his shoulder, effortlessly carrying you into your adjoining bathroom.

“That can be arranged.”

[15 new messages]

From: Soonyoung Hey honey! Just a heads up… Wonwoo asked for your address. Don’t know why or what for but I gave it to him so expect a visit from him soon… ... But I’m gonna assume it’s for what I think it is… … so you’re welcome ;)

From: Joshua Soonyoung just told me Wonwoo is going to your house USE PROTECTION!!! I'M NOT READY TO BE AN UNCLE ;_;

From: Gyu Wonwoo is missing He left the office hours ago and hasn’t come back (Y/N)???? Hello???? This is a serious matter!!!! Where are you??!?!?!?? Are you seriously going to ignore me? Just because you called out sick doesn’t mean you can ignore ~me~ your friend!!!!

To: Gyu She’s busy

From: Gyu I – OH??? MY GOD???????? IT’S ABOUT FUCKING TIME YOU TWO!!!! Also – ew Don’t ever send me a picture like that ever again

Epilogue

“How are the reports looking, Mrs. Jeon?”

Lifting your head from the pile of papers lining the table, your gaze falls on your boss as he walks inside the conference room, a warm smile on his face. Offering him an encouraging one back, you gesture towards the pile in front of you as you lean back against your chair.

“Everything we’ve discussed is in order and ready to go for the presentation.”

Your boss grins, dimples indenting in his cheeks.

“I knew I could count on you.”

The conference room door opens behind your boss, your eyes darting to the tall stature who was now leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest as his sharp gaze falls on you.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

No matter how many times he calls you that or how much time passes by with you waking up to him every morning, your husband’s voice never fails to send an array of butterflies abuzz in your stomach. You can’t help but to let a salacious smile grace your lips as you bat your eyes at Wonwoo.

“Mr. Jeon,” you greet, flirtily. “Looking mighty handsome as always.”

Wonwoo clears his throat, his eyes narrowing into a playful glare as he gestures towards your boss.

“You’re lucky Seungcheol is here,” he tuts, shaking his head. “Otherwise I’d have you over this desk –”

“Hey, hey!” Seungcheol cuts off your husband, waving an accusing finger at him. “No flirting with my assistant during work hours!”

Wonwoo holds his hands up in defense as he backs up from Seungcheol, a wide grin on his lips as he bows apologetically.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ll behave.”

His words promise good behavior, but the smirk on his lips and the mischievous glint in his eyes say another as he sits across from you at the table, his heated gaze never leaving yours. From beside him, the younger man who had taken a seat next to him had a grin on his face as he peered over at his boss, eyes looking back and forth between you and Wonwoo.

“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Jeon,” he greets, making you beam at him.

“It’s good to see you too, Chan,” you grinned. “I hope my husband hasn’t been running you ragged like he had done with me.”

Chan laughs softly, eyes twinkling with humor as he shakes his head.

“Nothing I’m not already used to.”

It had been two years since you had left Wonwoo’s office and became Seungcheol’s assistant.

In hindsight, Joshua had been right about how casual and common it was for a CEO to have some kind of relation with their assistant.

Despite your acceptance of the notion that you could lose your job for pursuing a relationship that exceeded company policy, HR hadn’t batted an eye when you and Wonwoo had confronted them. They simply brushed it off, insisting that it wasn’t uncommon for such a thing to happen between two people who were constantly in such close quarters with one another. And though you would have loved to continue working with your boss - now husband - it was in your best judgment to resign as his assistant and to look elsewhere.

You loved the job, you really did. But continuing to work for the man who you slept next to every night didn’t sit right with you – especially when you knew how fussy other co-workers were when it came to workplace relationships. So rather than wanting to deal with whispers of gossip behind your back, you had taken Seungcheol’s offer in becoming his assistant instead – much to your husband’s dismay.

“If you so much as even look at her in any way that’s not professional or business-like, I’ll ruin your career faster than you can blink.”

Seungcheol gulps, nodding furiously to the taller man who was currently holding him by the collar.

“Noted.”

Seungcheol claps his hands together, breaking your intense eye contact with your husband as you reluctantly look towards your boss.

“Alright,” he beams, looking at the occupants at the table. “Let's get this ball rolling.”

You have always prided yourself on your stellar work ethic. You always paid attention during meetings, took notes when it was needed, and made mental notes of things that could be bookmarked and used for later projects. But that sufficient work ethic always flew right out the window when it involved the man sitting across from you.

You’re peering at your husband from the corner of your eye, biting back a laugh as you smirk slightly. Adjusting your posture, you’re leaning back against the chair while you stretch your legs out underneath the table, discarding one of your heels as you let your foot graze against Wonwoo’s calf. You press your lips together in a line to fight back a grin, stifling a giggle at the desire that was now pooling in the darkened eyes of your husband as he subtly reaches down to grab your leg.

“Stop it,” he mouths, making you feign a look of innocence.

“I’m not doing anything,” you mouthed back, making Wonwoo’s sharp eyes narrow into a glare.

He’s trapping your leg between his toned thighs, a move which he almost instantly regretted as you flexed your foot to press against the hardening bulge in his slacks, the CEO sucking in a breath as he all but clutches your ankle in retaliation. Blunt nails dig into your skin as he sends you a look of warning only to grit his teeth in annoyance as you peered away from him with a smile, keeping your focus on Seungcheol as he spoke.

Wonwoo’s heated gaze stays locked on you throughout the meeting, sharp eyes glaring from behind his thick rimmed glasses as he shifts uncomfortably for the next hour. And once Seungcheol had declared a brief break, he’s pushing your leg away from him and stomping out of the conference room. Chan’s eyes widened in alarm at his boss’s abrupt exit, the assistant beginning to stand before you’re holding your hand up, halting him from following after your husband.

“I’ve got him, Chan,” you reassured the man, smiling brightly. “You know he gets in those moods sometimes.”

Not waiting for a reply, you’re stifling a laugh as you walk out of the room, gaze scanning over the office before you’re heading towards the elevator. But before you can even make it halfway, you’re being pulled into a doorway, your back pressed up against a wall as Wonwoo glares down at you, his body towering over yours.

An amused glint is in your eyes as you grinned up at your husband.

“You really pulled me into a supply closet?” You asked, and Wonwoo reached to grab your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

“You have a lot of nerve, sweetheart,” he hissed. “Getting me hard while I’m trying to focus on the meeting.”

You feign a look of innocence as you reach for his belt buckle, pulling him in until he’s pressed flush against you.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t like it,” you drawl, flirtily. Wonwoo smirks as he drops his hands from your face, opting to grip your thighs instead as he lifts you up and presses you back into the wall.

“Such a naughty girl,” he tsk’s, rolling his hips into yours as you tighten your legs around him.

“You love it,” you tease, nipping playfully at his bottom lip. Wonwoo’s gaze softens momentarily, his face lighting up as he adoringly stares at you.

“I love you,” he corrects.

Leaning forward he’s connecting your lips, kissing you slowly as he pours his emotions into it — into you. You hum against his mouth, your hands reaching up to run through his hair as you kiss him back. His tongue slips between the seam of your lips before meeting yours, his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs as he licks into your mouth.

“We have to get back,” you murmur, making Wonwoo groan, your husband squeezing your ass playfully as he rocks against you.

“I’ll come up with an excuse,” he mutters and you chuckle against his mouth before pulling away.

“This is an important meeting, baby,” you retort, making Wonwoo — big bad CEO, Jeon Wonwoo — form the most adorable pout as he looks down at you with an expression akin to a kicked puppy.

“But I only want to be around you.”

Giggling quietly, you reach up to cup his face as you kiss him softly, nuzzling your nose against his.

“If you can make it through the next two hours, I’ll fuck you in the back of the limo on the way home.”

Wonwoo laughs at your words, his head tilting back happily before he kisses you with a smile.

“First off, it’s going to be me fucking you,” he points out, letting you place your feet back down on the floor. “Which I was planning on doing after the meeting anyways.”

You grin at him, laughing happily as you readjust your clothing.

“Great minds think alike, I guess,” you jest, and Wonwoo mirrors your grin as he leads you out of the supply closet.

With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he’s leaning down to press a kiss against your temple, lips brushing your ear.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he murmurs, making your heart soar in happiness as you beamed in delight.

“I love you too, Wonwoo.”

#seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo x reader

1K notes · View notes

marsbutterfly · 22 days ago

Note

MECHANIC BADDIE HANJI WHO FIXES UP READERS CAR. SHES ALL LIKE I CAN TAKE CARE OF IT DARLING. YOU JUST SIT THERE AND LOOK PRETTY. (IDK SHIT ABOUT CARS) JUST NEED AN ACTS OF SERVICE HANJI

I'll Fix It All

a/n: omg happy new year!! this turned out way longer than I originally intended for it to be. i was hoping to post it before the year turned but i'll also accept the first day of the year lol. enjoy.

warnings: fem!reader (she/her), nb! hanji zoe (they/them), modern au, anxiety, panic attacks, kissing, fluff, comfort. also like, i don't know much about cars or car repair so pls bear with me. tagging: @wizzy21 wc: 2.5k | wattpad! | ao3!

"No, no, no, no, NO!" You cry out as your car slowly begins to lose speed. This isn't the first time this week, nor the second, nor the third. You couldn't even count on one hand the amount of times the engine had been making that weird noise and the light had been blinking at you like a malevolent eye.

But you thought you could put it off, that you could easily ignore it, and that it would fix itself like it had many times before. Maybe you just needed to check the coolant or add some more water to the radiator, except you continuously forgot to do so. And it finally came back to bite you in the ass.

As the smoke comes out of the hood, you grip the steering wheel tightly, a loud grunt escaping your lips as your forehead presses against the horn, the loud noise filling the air all around you. Still, you are lucky enough to be in a somewhat empty area so the least amount of people will be disturbed.

Your first instinct is to panic. You can feel the blood rushing through your body, your face getting warmer as a few tears begin to prickle in your eyes. You let out a shaky exhale, cursing yourself for allowing this situation to happen in the first place. Before you can even begin to cry, you feel your phone vibrating in the cup holder next to you, the caller's name showing up on the screen attached to the dashboard. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ‎‎‎"Sunshine ☼"

With a sniffle, you wipe the tears before they even have the chance to roll down your cheeks and pick up your phone, pressing the green button on the screen as you try your best to sound like you are composed and not entirely freaking out at the moment.

"Hello, my most beloved," you say, trying your best to sound like your playful self. Though it has no sound, you can almost hear the smile dropping off Hanji's face. It was not out of the ordinary for them to quickly pick up on the slightest change in your tone of voice.

"What happened?" They ask without missing a beat, the tone of their voice filled with love and concern, almost as if they were already expecting you to be in some sort of distress. "I was doing the dishes and accidentally broke a glass because I got such a bad feeling that my hand started shaking."

You sniffle but a small giggle exits your chest, the idea that the two of you are so intertwined that they can even sense when you are in some sort of distress, "Yeah, I'm fine… My car just finally gave out on me and I'm in the middle of a random neighborhood because I decided today, out of all days, to take a random shortcut!"

"Send me your location, and I'll get my tools and meet you over there," they say and you can already hear them moving around on the other end of the line. You wish you could protest but, the more you look at your car, the more panic fills your body. So you simply let out a quiet "okay" before hanging up.

Though your hands nervously shake, you can open your text messages and send Hanji a pin of your exact location. It isn't too far from your house, maybe five minutes if you speed up, and that knowledge only adds more fuel to your frustration. "Why now? I could have easily pulled into my driveway before you gave out!" You can't help the angry grunt that leaves your throat as you slam your hand against the steering wheel.

The waiting time seems like an eternity, an eerie feeling in the back of your mind like you are being watched. Your eyes dart to your phone, half convinced that maybe you should just call a toll truck when you see the headlights of Hanji's motorcycle as they speed down the road.

The light from the post shines above them and you can barely distinguish if they are an angel or a real person. As soon as their bike is parked behind your car, you exit the vehicle, running towards their embrace.

Their hair is still messy from having a helmet on and they hold a small toolbox with their left hand, but that does not stop them from hugging you as tightly as they possibly can. Their lips press against your head as the two of you remain like that for a while.

"Shhh, it's ok, my love," you can feel the smile in their voice, a gentleness like nothing you have ever experienced before, "Hanji is here to fix your problems."

"I truly appreciate you coming this fast," you whisper against their chest, "I genuinely thought my car would be able to handle the journey today but… I guess I was wrong."

"Did you have any trouble starting it this morning?" They pull back, their arm still wrapped around your frame. You think for a second, having trouble focusing on anything other than this panicky feeling in your chest.

Slowly, you begin to remember your day: you left work and the car started. You left for lunch and the car started. Clearly, it had started when you left home that morning… Didn't it?

"Oh shit…" You whisper while an embarrassed expression takes over your features. Your eyes shift towards the ground as you pull slightly further away to create a bigger distance between your bodies, too self-conscious to even look at them. "I couldn't get the engine to turn this morning. I had to start it, put it in neutral, and then start it again."

They nod, kissing your forehead once more as they stand in front of the hood of your car. You are still too embarrassed to look but you can hear the moment their toolbox touches the ground and as their hands pop it open. A few seconds go by as they begin tinkering with the metal inside, though your knowledge of cars isn't deep enough for you to fully understand what is going on.

You cross one arm against your chest while the other rests above your hand, your index finger tapping on your cheek while you can't help but take small nibbles on your thumb's nail. The anxiety inside of your chest never dissipates, nor the shame.

The morning had been nothing but a blur. You woke up late for work, forgot to eat or even bring anything to snack on until you had time to go to lunch, spilled water all over your car, and, to top it all off, it was raining in the morning. The engine not starting was just one of the many, many things that had gone wrong. You meant to text Hanji about it so they could meet you during your work hours and fix it but, of course, you forgot to charge your phone the night before.

You close your eyes and exhale, leaning against the car. Before you can get yourself into a frenzy, you hear Hanji's gentle voice pulling you out of the dark spiral you were about to send yourself into, "Okay, good news and bad news."

"Please explain it to me like I'm five," you say, shooting them an exhausted look and it causes them to chuckle quietly. "Bad news first."

"The alternator, or thing that charges your car battery, isn't properly working for some reason. Maybe because it's old, maybe it's faulty, but it for sure will not start working again, like, that thing is dead."

You nod, surprisingly following along with what they are telling you. You realize that all this knowledge comes from the previous times they have come to your aid or maybe from all the times they would check under the hood of your car before you left their house while the two of you still lived in separate households. Regardless, you turn your attention to them once more.

"I checked the fluid and the coolant and everything seems to be full and working ok. I ran some codes and nothing out of the ordinary popped up and lastly, I checked your oil." They say, wiping the grime out of their hands with a bleached towel, their face slightly sweaty, especially around the area where their glasses sit on their nose.

"Fuck… And the good news?" You ask, biting your nails even more, almost to the point of blood. With a gentle and concerned expression, Hanji takes a few steps forward, wrapping their dirty digits around your trembling palms, and only then do you notice just how short your nails have become.

"I can easily fix it. The last one we bought still has a warranty, so I can just change them." They whisper, placing a kiss against your fingers. A sense of despair fills your body again as tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, your lip trembling as you speak in a quiet yet pathetic voice.

"Please, don't leave me alone."

They sigh, running their hand over their messy hair. They look over to the open hood of your car and around the neighborhood, trying to think about what the best choice would be in this situation.

"The store is fifteen minutes away, on my bike, I'll be back in - "

"Please, don't leave me alone!!" You beg desperately, whatever is left of your fingernails now digging into the skin of their biceps, your eyes are wide open as tears stream down. You weren't that upset about the car breaking down, but just the intensity of all the feelings you had been holding back finally caught up to you the moment you realized you would have to be without them for even a second.

Hanji is taken aback by how sudden your response is, and how desolate you sound. They can see the anxiety written all over your features and it causes their heart to ache in their chest. That's the moment in which they realize just how many feelings you have been bottling, just how bad your week has been, and just how you have refused to talk to them about it.

Almost like they gain consciousness, their arms wrap around your frame, pulling you closer to their body. In exchange, you bury your head on their chest, not carrying that their shirt is now covered in grime and sweat, even if it is chilly outside. "Is there anything you want to talk about?" They whisper, their lips pressed against the top of your head.

You want to shake your head, to put your walls up once more and brush it off as "just a bad day", but it was more than that. It had been a bad week, a bad month, and you had gone through it all by yourself, in silence. Crying in the shower but still putting on a smile when around them, your appetite barely exists but you still eat all of their cooking. But before you can deny anything, the tears begin pouring down your face once more, you cling to them like they are the last life vest on a sinking ship.

“I d-don’t know what is going on with me…” You gasp, hiding your face in a mixture of shame and search for comfort. “I just… I just want to be close to you at all times, I just never want to be alone and I just… Everything is too much and not enough, everything is going wrong. I…”

“My love,” they whisper, holding you slightly tighter with one arm. With their free hand, they prop up your chin, a gentle and warm smile taking over their lips once your eyes meet. “You don’t have to suffer alone, ok? I am here for you, no matter what, when, or where. I will always be by your side.”

“Good and bad?” You sniffle and they chuckle softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your eyes as they lean down so their forehead is touching yours. They nod.

“Good and bad, my angel…” They whisper, their eyes closing as your noses brush together. You lean closer, your lips brushing against theirs so lightly that it nearly feels like a paint-filled brush against a canvas, working its way through a halfway-painted masterpiece.

Hanji gently presses your body against the car door, their grip on your waist is tight as they make sure to keep you safely in place. Your lips are half-open, temptingly wet in the dim light of the street pole, your face is stained with silent tears and the only thought going through their head? “I really need to kiss her.”

And so they do. They lean forward ever so slightly until there is no more room between the two of you. When your lips collide, you can’t help the quiet gasp that exists in your body, your hand gently resting on their cheek while your thumb brushes against the softness of their skin.

You get lost in the warmth of their body, in how comforting it feels to have them pressed against you like this. Your nose brushes against theirs as your head tilts slightly to the side, the faint smell of coffee and menthol cigarettes still lingering on their breath as it mixes with the scent of the gum you had in your mouth earlier.

They nibble on your tongue gently, sometimes brushing the tip of their own against it and it’s enough to cause you to nearly melt in their arms. If it wasn’t for their strong arms holding you in place, you would have fallen to the ground into a puddle underneath their feet.

Neither of you wants to pull away, but the need to breathe is becoming stronger by the second. When you separate, your forehead rests against theirs, and your eyes remain closed as you enjoy the smell of their skin. Even if it isn’t a pleasant smell, it brings you too much comfort in this moment for you to care.

“I’ll call Moblit and he can come to help, ok?” They whisper, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You nod, lacing your fingers with the ones on their left hand while they pull their phone out of their pocket with the other. "I'll send him to the store and I will stay with you. You won't be alone, I promise."

As they speak to the man on the other end of the line, you can’t help but allow a small smile to form on your lips as you think about how lucky you are to have someone like them in your life. Someone willing to stop everything at the drop of a hat to come to rescue you when you need them most.

As they blow you a kiss, you find yourself thinking about that one specific sentence once more, realizing that no truer words had ever been spoken:

“Hanji is here to fix all your problems.”

115 notes · View notes

starrvsn · 2 years ago

Text

` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ W.CLARK ˖ TIL DEATH DO US PART.

pairing: wally clark x fem!reader.

what to know | 80% angst with 20% of fluff, comfort. fic, a pretty sappy ending. i do not own these characters and this is all fiction! — lowercase is intended.

word count: 5,280 (oops)

spoilers: death and characters (also assumptions about characters back story).

☆ on rotation: hate to be lame by lizzie mcapline. lover sung by taylor swift. she was mine by aj rafael. better for you by siaopaolo.

star left a message! my first fic! hope you enjoy and let me know how you felt about it :)

ab. you and wally were inseparable. bared souls to each other but still dancing around the fact of feelings for each other but one night he gathers the courage to tell you how he feels, things don’t go the way he plans and spirals out of control.

1984.

the soft ringing of a phone rouses you awake, your room dark and cool from the gentle breeze coming through the crack in your window. you rub the drowsiness from your eyes before sitting up. glancing at your clock, beside it is the soft yellow landline that rings, a light but repetitive tone. the red glowing numbers reading 11:51 almost made you regret waking up to pick up the phone but the constant ringing means the caller must be persistent to get ahold of you. clearing your throat you pick up the phone, a soft hello emitting from your lips.

“hey sweetheart” you recognize the voice almost immediately, wally clark your best friend since middle school. you two are inseparable, always attached to the hip and despite his reputation, how popular he was. he never let it hinder your relationship. he always joked that you two were high school sweethearts minus the dating part which also always confused people when you had told them you were just friends but your heart hopes, yearns for more.

“hey, did something happen?” there must’ve been a reason why he called you in the first place but he quickly denies:

“oh-oh no, everything is going well… sorry did i wake you?” his voice comes out rushed, as if he’s trying to speed up the conversation. the tone confuses you but you continue.

“not really, i was just trying to fall asleep.” you softly respond. fiddling with the cord, telling him a small white lie but if there was something about wally was that you never wanted him to feel bad at your expense, always saving him the tinge of guilt that affects him more than you thought. he was a soft soul, sensitive but resilient. one of the things that make you more drawn to him. he was someone who made you feel like you had a purpose in life.

“i, i uhm was wondering if you wanted to go for a drive. i-if not thats totally okay!” you can practically hear himself rubbing his neck. a constant habit he had when he was emmbarrased or unsure. you agree almost immediately. hearing the smile plastered on his face, he boasts about having the car for the night so it was the perfect time to make use of it. he promises he’ll come to get you in a few minutes so you rush to get dressed in warmer clothing compared to your sleep wear. as you wait for him, you couldn’t help but feel curious as to why he wanted to take you out at such a late hour. sure he didn’t get the car to himself often but from his tone you couldn’t help but feel something off. ultimately your mind settles on the fact that he just felt spontaneous and just wanted to spend time with your, knowing how the school year just began and he has been busy with the football team and his parents breathing down his neck, so maybe he needed an escape.

minutes pass and you hear the closing of a car door, then rounds of rubble as if someones walking down the side walk. you don’t know how but every time wally comes around, no matter what the sounds are- you always know it’s him and when you confessed this little sense of yours when he let out a boisterous laugh and told you “you have a little part of me then sweetheart.” that made your heart melt. excited, you softly pad down your steps and open the door before he can even let himself in. you had unlocked the door minutes prior to ensure a silent arrival. wally stands still for a few moments. his gaze focusing on your face, your cheeks blush as moments pass and his movement doesn’t change

“uh, earth to wally?” snapping your fingers in front of him, the taller boy jumps back in surprised wondering how you got there so fast, and how you look so effortlessly beautiful at midnight “done gawking yet clark?” laughing, sounding beautiful to his ears he looks away smiling shyly his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, a repeating his habit. “so where are we going?”becoming the most talkative already, in return there is no response. which is odd coming from you usually commentary filled best friend.

“no hi, how are you? do you not miss me?” lightly shoving his shoulder. you divert the subject to where he could be taking you, the cold air making you shiver as you wait for his response. but instead of giving you one he just leads you to his car across the street, no words exchanged. huffing at the lack of communication you follow him across the street (looking both ways before you cross of course)

the drive to the park is quiet— comfortable silence with the silent play of music fill the air as he drives, you look out the window to stare at the beautiful landscape of the city since wally gives no other form of entertainment to pass time. trying so hard not to stare at him as he drives, you don’t notice obviously since you’re not looking his way but there’s a line of sweat collecting on wally’s hairline but even if you saw you would shrug it off blaming it on his hoodie but no, wally was sweating for a completely different reason. he’s about to change your relationship forever. well, not forever but the outcome can go of two ways, good or bad; with no in-between.

wally clark is going to confess his undying love for you and he feels like he’s gonna throw up from how nervous he is. he didn’t even greet you, that’s how tense he’s feeling he couldn’t even form any coherent word when he saw you, hair ruffled laying in bed with sleepy eyes. it was an image that he wants tattooed on his forehead, dead serious. luckily you didn’t notice how nervous he is because you usually can read him very well additionally, you haven’t asked him anything so he’s relieved to see that nothing he’s done has gotten on your radar yet. well, he didn’t greet you when he picked you up but you just shrugged it off, not thinking to much of it. passing it as oncoming sleepiness from staying up. the ride was filled mostly silence and was also accompanied by mark or your occasion humming, soon you arrive at the park which you immediately recognize as the one where you first met wally, on the swing set late at night when his parent became overbearing. you follow wally out of the car and up a path to a grassy hill out looking the neighborhood and beautiful night sky. he takes a seat and you follow after him, sitting next to him with little space between the two of you.

the scene is quite picturesque, wally wishes he brought his polaroid as he looks up at the stars hoping they’ll talk back to him, talk him out of it or something— maybe some encouragement because he’s been hyping himself up for this moment for so long, okay just for three hours but leading up to this moment he felt like time was moving so slow. the two of you just sit in silence for a while looking at the beautiful night sky until wally speaks up.

“i have something to tell you.” he starts, his voice slightly wavering. you turn immediately to look at him as this is the first thing he’s said to you since he picked you up, a sour feeling rests in your stomach as you process what he said, in fear of hearing what he actually he has to say, you try to figure it out yourself. which you’ll find out yourself was not the greatest idea. sitting up straight you look directly at him with a hand on his shoulder.

“wait don’t tell me, you’re moving? you got early acceptance to ohio state? if so and you’re only telling me now i’m going to murd— or no have you gotten yourself a girlfriend because god knows you nee—“wally shakes his head barely scoffing a laugh.

“no, that is not what i’m gonna tell you! now can you please stop talking? i practiced in front of my mirror for this.” practicing in-front the mirror for what? you tilt your head confused, but turn it upright immediately when another thought comes to mind.

“are you going to show me that stupid dances you’ve been learning because—“

“no! y/n let me say what i need to say before i vomit on your shoes.”

“hold on wha—“

“oh my god y/n! i like you! okay! i like you. god i asked you to not talk and yet you did.”

your heart drops and the sour feeling only heightens. wally on the other hand is frustrated and embarrassed because of your interruptions and his sudden outburst to you. it was uncalled for, he knows. high on his emotions the quarterback stands up from his spot and starts walking down the hill, ruffling his hair in frustration. cheeks red from both embarrassment and the cold. can’t believe you just confessed to her like that! horrible wally clark. now she’s not gonna even want to accept your confession. ‘vomit on your shoes’ what kind of line is that? seriously.

he groans, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he continues down the path. not even bothered to see if you’re following him, he probably just ruined your friendship for life. he’s never going to let himself live this down.

wally is mad at himself, not even you, he’s only a tad bit mad at you for you cutting him off but he’s more mad at himself— he shouldn’t have beaten around the bush, should’ve just told you there and then not have any cheesy climax to it; would’ve gotten it over with quickly. you watch wally walk off while you stay planted in your seat. still processing what happened. wait, wally clark just confessed to you, the man you’ve unknowingly devoted yourself for just confessed and you were interrupting him! what are you doing go after him! y/n go! you scramble from your spot. feeling guilty for cutting him off, you probably sent his confidence down the hill with him. god you felt horrible. “wally! wait!” you call from behind him almost tripping from the decline of the hill but with sportsmen instincts he catches you by your arm. “wally, oh my god. i’m sorry for cutting you off— i’m such a jerk for that.”you say as you pant for breath, your heart racing. you look at his side profile and he’s avoiding your gaze completely, moving his head to look to the side you’re not on. “it’s alright, let me just take you home.” a breath leaves you, take you home? that was the last thing you wanted right now “wally i—“ he cuts you off like you did to him earlier “y/n really, i accept your apology. let me— let me just take you home please.” he is dying from embarrassment at this point, might as well put him out of his misery. “but–“ you start while wally let’s out a hefty sigh and inhales harshly from his nose, rubbing the side of it with his thumb. “y/n can we just forget this all happened? it’s really late i’ll just get you home before anyone realizes your gone.” his tone is distant and really pulls at your heart strings, you didn’t want to forget about this, well some parts of it you wanted to remember like him confessing to you! but you didn’t mean to make him upset; he probably is thinking the worse right now and it’s all because of you, it’s all your fault.

you don’t say another word as you nod when wally briefly glances at you, his light touch on your arm leaves as he continues his walk to the car park. you follow behind quietly, guilt eating you up as you look at wally posture slump as he walks, he’s head hung low. looking small— all because of you.

the drive back to your house was even worse, it was quiet. no music no humming, nothing. just silence— you wanted to say something make it right again but you were afraid to worsen his mood more than you’ve already done. no farewells are exchanged when wally arrives in front of your home, he wanted to say something, anything but he just let the opportunity pass. although, just as you’re about to close the door, he murmurs a soft good night that you wish he could tell you looking in your eyes but instead his eyes stay downcast on the steering wheel. he doesn’t leave right away, he waits until you’re safely inside your house and then some more. he throws his head back wallowing in his emotions, he wished the earth would just swallow him up. when you get into your room, you peak through your blinds and see that wally is still there, you watch as he sits there, eyes closed and head back then he hits the wheel of his car a few times eliciting a gasp from you, feeling more guilty. eventually watching him depart from your street.

wally clark was avoiding you, you knew that much. after what happened that night wally began acting like you didn’t exist– as if you weren’t his best friend; as if he didn’t confess his feelings for you— which you’ve been thinking about for the last few days. it hurts, that wally’s acting so distant. he’s been hanging out with his jock friends— but you can tell his mood isn’t the same. usually preppy and extraverted, practices consuming his time and plans that pop out of thin air that keeps him busy so he doesn’t have to think about what happened with you, to distract him. you’ve tried calling him but it’s all been sent to voicemail or his mother ends up answering the phone, you could tell but it hasn’t been to easy for wally either. he feels like a dick for being this way after what happened but he’s just not ready to face you— face you’re rejection, face the embarrassment, face the spot in his heart for you that he now has to make disappear. he’s just not ready.

this whole wally avoiding you thing has gone longer than you both had expected— you, you were counting the days until wally spoke to you again and honestly you are becoming more concerned with how this is dragging out. you miss your best friend for goddess sake! you miss his corny jokes, his contagious laughter, his habit of running his hands through his had, how excited he gets when he see’s dogs on the street. you just miss him... you miss everything about him, your constant now gone. unfortunately you never end up getting the time to talk to him and by now its been months, now the homecoming game you plan on talking to him after the game. no excuses, no if, ands or buts can interfere with the dire need of bringing him back to you.

the chilly air nips at your cheeks as you stand in the bleachers watching the game. you were never a sports fan especially for football but when your best friend’s whole personality is devoting himself to the sport— not even for him but for his family, you had no choice but getting yourself used to the sport. you went to every game, however far it was you went. distance didn’t hinder your support for him. the game feels aching long and the constant cheering from both schools make it hard for you to focus, you just wanted things to be okay with him. you didn’t want to keep this cold war between the two of you.

now in the second half, you watch from the stands as wally takes a seat onto the metal bench. his mother right behind him. the conversation must be tense because as soon as the finish speaking. he’s up on his feet again. your chest tightening at the thought of how much pressure he’s under right now. you hold your breath as you watch wally catch the ball, running towards the the five yard line when a linebacker runs straight into him, tackling him— wally breaking his fall. you let out a shuttering breath as you watch him, your best friend lie there on the field and it feels as if time stops; you stand on the bleachers in disbelief. praying to some higher up that he’s okay and just being dramatic before getting up like he always does… but that never happens. all air is taken from your chest as you dreadfully walk down the bleachers, hoping this was some sick dream you were bound to wake up from. clamors of terror and commotion fill the stadium as the beloved football player is declared dead on the field. tears are streaming down your face, watching his body being carried in a black body bag that he would’ve joked about it being a tacky way of being taken out.. but theres no room for that you’ve never felt so empty, so helpless as you do in this moment. now never being able to accept is confession, apologize, make a amends. there was no future for you without him.

all wally can see is black, a dark abyss that consumes his vision as he feels weightless, as if he isn’t in his body. an out of body experience that he hopes to recover from. that he’s just in a coma and he’ll be reunited with you and tell you all the things he didn’t get to tell you sooner. his mind is consumed by the thought of you, even before the accident he wanted to see you, talk to you, hold you in his arms but when he opens his eyes he’s greeted by the bright lights of the football field. being completely alone in the stadium. still in his uniform. he sits up dazed and confused. he feels fine, if anything he feels like a whole new person as if he’s been given a second chance in living but what he’ll soon to find out, its not in the way he thinks. he feels a bit light headed as he stands and his eyes immediately landing on a figure when he had thought he was alone. he shouts to get their attention to no avail, confused; he continues to shout walking closer to them. as he gets closer he realizes it’s you with your head in your hands and yours shoulders shaking as you wail to your hearts content. he calls out to you, at first soft but then more desperate as you don’t hear him. he feels frustrated as tears of his own stream down his face.

he cries “yn, sweetheart please, please.” his chest tightening at the sounds of your crying. pleading, begging. a mantra repeating under his breath. he doesn’t want this to be it, to be over for him, for you. he can’t lose you. he doesn’t know where he is, how he got here and he especially doesn’t understand why you can’t hear or see him. if this what death is like he thinks he landed in hell.

wally doesn’t notice the man standing by the entrance. the man that he’ll soon find out is a guide into understanding what exactly is happening and coming to terms with the fact that he’s dead and will never be able to live the life he wanted with you. instead he’ll watch you grow without him as he’ll stay forever eighteen.

‘wallowing wally’ is the nickname rhonda had come up for him. jason chides rhonda for picking on the mourning boy but she insists it was to lighten the mood, the outcome being the complete opposite. when he was first introduced to the group he was quiet, timid, distant. the others understood the feelings and recent thoughts about the afterlife at split river and had assumed he would grow out of it. but no, it continues and rhonda’s continuous jokes about his behavior being the complete opposite to the boisterous quarterback he once was— but that guy since died along with his corpse. he’s now just a shell of who he was.

it was hard for him to watch you at first, he didn’t see you for weeks after his death but when you finally came back to school. you were an entirely different person; you looked paler, bags under your eyes, lifeless as you walked down the halls with soft murmurs about your appearance as you walk by. his heart shatters into pieces watching you, sitting alone during breaks. staring into space during class completely dissociative during class. you distanced yourself from your peers and never responded when someone gave you condolences about your best friend, just nodding then walking away. your were mourning the death of him and he couldn’t handle watching it. you’re hurting at his expense and it’s breaking his already shattered heart that can’t be mended.

so he distanced himself from you. like he did at the end of his life, he couldn’t bare to see you hurt so he spent most of his days on the rooftop. only coming down for snacks or to catch up with the others but then back at his spot. never going to group because he didn’t want to talk about it. how a little of guilt sits in him everyday watching you mourn for him. days blur by and eventually wally extends to the stadium— he’s bitter, yes that he died during a game, without a fight but it was easier for him to get over compared to you. he will never get over you. he takes his time walking onto the field, closer he sees the memorial left for him. his picture surrounded by candles, flowers, notes and other things left by other students. he’s consumed by the notes and messages his peers left him that he doesn’t realize jason joining him.

“wally” he calls, the boy turns with his hands shoved in his varsity jacket. looking over at the latter with a questioning look. watching the male with his hand over his face shielding him from the sun.

“there’s something i think you wanna see.” as much as he doesn’t want to follow jason or be lead into his trap of being forced into group he couldn’t help the feeling of interest that fills him. as expected they’re towards the gym and as wally is about to protest jason interjects with strong statements about something being there for him. for the first time wally feels hopeful, that something happened— miraculously. he follows jason into the gym. the sight of the circle of chairs in the corner of the gym prominent in his vision but now he sees an extra person taking up another seat. he wasn’t aware that another death had happened at the school and if there was he would’ve been there. heard the sounds of death within the walls. he gets closer and closer, expectant of what jason kept hyping him up about. he’s about to inquire what it is when his eyes land on you. sitting in his seat, he stares at you in disbelief. you dont notice him at first and he takes is as a time to take up you appearance. one that he hasn’t seen in a while.

you look healthier, definitely healing from the homecoming game. you’re wearing a stripped sweater he had lent you, slightly oversized and a pair of dark wash jeans and your beat up converse. the only piece sticking out from your ensamble was the beige apron, stained with clay. it’s quiet around the group before mr. martian walks inside greeting the others.

“wally finally joining us i see.” that name catches your attention. you look up from the gym floor to your recently deceased best friend. your breath hitched, blood running cold, were your eyes deceiving you? you had just seen him died moths ago, the vision still etched in your mind and now suddenly he’s standing in front of you like he’s fine. you think your gonna throw up. wally never expected for his to happen, he didn’t expect for you to react by running out of the gym with your hand over your mouth… it was all to much but the feeling in his heart makes him run after you. he doesn't know where you went at first but the rounds of retching in the girls bathroom makes him suspect that you’re in there.

“sweetheart, i know you’re in there and i’m not gonna go in there… for obvious reasons but i-i just want to talk.” wally runs his hand over his face, feeling stupid for what he just said. he had such a habit for blabbering even if it was a serious situation. still he just can’t believe you can see him, as much as he wanted to know how you dies; he pushes that thought to the back of his mind, his main focus was making things right with you. he stands by the door waiting for you to finish. he can hear the toilet flushing, then the stall door and the faucet running. his nerves are through the roof as he hears you footsteps come closer. he calls out your name softly as you walk out, ready to be on his knees begging you to forgive him, for what he did, ignoring you for so long, not giving you the time of day. he’s ready for you to yell and shout at him, slap him if you wanted to. he was ready for it. instead, the second you walk out you pull him into a tight hug. noticing the absence of your apron, shoving that thought behind. he bends over a bit to accommodate the height difference. he immediately wraps his arms around you, relishing in your body heat. he’d missed you so much that he almost forgot what it felt like to be in your presence but now that you’re here, there’s no need to worry for that anymore. the hug lasts for a while and soon the wet feeling of tears coat wally’s neck and varsity jacket as you silently cry into his shoulder. he soothingly rubs your back and gently rocking you back and forth, trying his best to comfort you while not trying to cry himself. your knees buckle and he easily catches you, whispering soft nothings to you. it takes you sometime to calm down. nevertheless he waits. listening to your cries become softer, hiccuping for breath as you slowly depart from him.

"i missed you." you tremble in a whisper. he gives you a sad smile cupping your cheek in his hand, gently swiping your tears away.

"i missed you too, sweetheart. fresh tears form on your waterline, eyebrows scrunched you grasp his face, pulling him into a kiss. he's astounded, the feeling of your lips on his was one he dreamt about for years, now here it is and he's standing there like an idiot not kissing you back. his grasps at your waist, the kiss is different from any he's never experienced. it's slow and passionate. you've been yearning for each other for years, dancing around the potential of where your relationship can go. you're tired of waiting even after death. you relish in the way you lips feel on his after feeling so lost without him with all that emotion you’ve bottled up when you realize that you're in love with him. words cannot express how much he has an affect of you and he can say the same thing about you. you both pull away a little breathless. you've been waiting to do that for years and wally is a bit envious that you beat him to it. your foreheads are pressed softly together, just standing in each others presence. it's a soft, intimate moment.

"i thought i was never going to see you again." you begin looking into wally's eyes. he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, urging you to continue. “i thought i would've never be able to tell you how i feel. i-i was going to tell you after the football game but... you know.” wally stiffens, he can only assume what you'll say next but whether you break his heart of make his dreams come true. his feelings for you won't change.

“wally, you mean so much to me. you're my rock, always there for me when i need you. no matter what is it— if it was helping me pick out outfits when you hate to shop or picking me up from a disastrous date. i didn't know what it would be like to live without you until it actually happened. i felt lost, i felt like i didn't have a purpose without you. like a part of me died when you did. you give me direction, a purpose. wally clark, i love you. i love everything about you. you're little habits, the things you hate about yourself i love it all." tears are free falling again when you finish and wally's eyes are blurred with tears as he looks at you with all the love and adoration in the world. he lets out a laugh and your face almost twists into hurt when he immediately brings you close by the waist, standing at full height. he reassures you almost immediately.

"stealing my thunder again huh sweetheart?" he jokes, a smile on his face. it's hard to stay mad at him, especially with that face— trying your best to keep a stoic face while he speaks. "i was supposed to say it first." he pouts. and you shake your head, a smile peeking from your lips but you remain. he brings his hand to cup your cheek and the other on the small of your back. "but i couldn't have said it better than you. you're the only one i think understands me the best, you see right through me and can tell if i'm having a bad day or hiding something. you supported me through my football career especially when my parents seemed like they cared more about the sport than their own son. you defend me, protect me— even though i feel like i should be doing that with you. you make me feel special. i love you and i always wanted to tell you that. no matter what you do, make me sad or mad. i'll always love you."

you flush at his words, feeling small in his embrace. your feelings have never felt so strong and it honestly felt a little overwhelming, but seeing the smile on his face eases you. you lean into his touch, your throat tightening at the new thoughts looming your mind.

"what if i'm not good enough for you.” your voice comes out strained, strong with emotion. he interjects immediately. insisting that there was no one else out that that could change his mind. you were it for him. he pours his heart out to you and you the same. a smile graces you face and wally swears his heart melts. he'll do anything to protect that smile on your face til the day he dies... again.

"it's me and you against the world, sweetheart." he kisses the crown of your head, taking your hand and pulling you down the hall. maybe death isn’t so bad after all.

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

#wally clark #wally clark imagines #wally clark fanfiction #school spirits #school spirits wally clark #wally clark x reader #school spirits fanfiction #milo manheim #milo manheim fanfiction #star's galaxy !

1K notes · View notes