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acciojaeyun · 27 days ago

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let me hold you close | p.sh.

PAIRING. rich!sunghoon x fem!reader

SUMMARY. you and sunghoon are both off-limits. you're still living with your ex, and he's off to get married to someone that has been arranged for his family business. but that doesn't stop you both from trudging boundaries when it's just you and him in your own world.

CONTENTS. smut, some angst, some fluff. LOTS OF JEALOUSY. smut with plot. not beta-read. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

WARNINGS. lots and lots of jealousy. sunghoon is DOWN-BAD for reader, but the feeling’s mutual. indirect cheating (but not really???). semi-public sex, dom!sunghoon, bratty reader. somewhat mean hoonie. oral (both f and m receiving), p in v, unprotected sexual act (use protection at all times), temperature play, sensory deprivation, slight bondage (just tying up), sir kink (oh yeah baby), spitting kink. use of pet names (wiee). THREE SEX SCENES. (seldom mentions of hyung line: heeseung, jay, and jake) IDK I WROTE THIS BEFORE I COULD FULLY WRITE EVERYTHING.

WORD COUNT. 4.7k

AUTHOR'S NOTE. FINALLY IT'S HERE. belated happy birthday, my hoonhoon! this is my hoon birthday gift for y'all. hope you like it! (did i write two sunghoon smuts already? yes, yes i did.) also, wait for further updates, i might be updating anyone from the hyung line soon! wink wink.

MY LIBRARY. REQUESTS ARE OPEN! TO BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST, YOU CAN SEND ME A MESSAGE.

There was something about him.

Park Sunghoon was the image of something so mysterious – yet, so captivating. His eyes held something deeper than what he tries to convey. You tried to hard to look away, but his actions, his stance – they command attention.

So much, that they commanded yours.

He has been a constant, a regular at the bar that you're working in every weekend to make ends meet. He was the hot bachelor that belonged in the upper VIPs that usually had a secluded room where they could share small talk over top shelf drinks.

Your first encounter with Park Sunghoon was when Byeol called in sick, and that meant you took over her shift as the personal-hired entertainer at Room 130.

"Please, Y/N," Byeol pleaded through the phone, coughing as her voice scratched against her throat, "if I could, I would. I'll take over your shift for the next week. You'll have my pay for tonight."

Now, additional income is something that is very difficult to shake off, no matter how it takes a night that consists of Neoguri noodles off of your schedule.

You wore your signature red cocktail dress, one that hugs all your right proportions beautifully, but not too tight, with a slit that doesn't go too up high on your thigh. Matched with a wave that's swept to the side, it is a no-brainer that the four men of Room 130 didn't even ask where their usual entertainer, Byeol, is.

"What a pretty face," Jake comments as he takes a sip of his armagnac, his eyes travelled down to your legs, but went back to your face, "nice voice, too." He adds.

Sunghoon was late, muttering an excuse that was along the lines of: his mother made him stay for a supposed meet-up with someone.

"Mommy's still on it?" Heeseung jokes, grabbing some of the snacks on the table, shaking his hand to remove the residue of it before pouring it to his mouth.

Sunghoon sends a look over Heeseung's way, making the oldest boy chuckle, "Well, you have to follow mommy's orders, or else, you're gonna whine about how your daily allowance has been reduced to half."

The rest of the boys chuckled, alongside the girls that were in the room to hold them company. Sunghoon was not the most pleased, he knew that Heeseung is right. He has to find a lady or else he will be arranged to a wedding just to keep up his expenditures and his lifestyle.

"Who's the girl?" Jay asks as he places his hand on the small of the back of the lady that sat on his lap, his eyes on the girl that giggled as she kept on tracing the edge of Jay's jawline.

"I don't know," Sunghoon grunted, eager to down a shot that was already on the table, "all I know is I have to find a partner ASAP, or else, I'll be wed to someone I could care less about."

That was when his eyes landed on you, singing a song softly as you held your vintage microphone. His eyebrows perched up slightly, and he smiled to himself.

Now, it has been approximately the fifth consecutive week that Sunghoon had tried to talk to you, alone, on your supposed shift at the public part of the bar.

Sweeping past through sweaty bodies as well as people that are drunk off their minds, Sunghoon was determined to at least know you better. It only took one song and one damn dress to catch Sunghoon's attention.

Lucky for him, he had caught your attention, too.

The thing was, you had a boyfriend – well, a roommate, if you will. Since love was obviously out the window, and that you were trying to sustain each other's stay in your apartment that has its contract nearing its end by the end of December.

Well, another reason was that your then-boyfriend was still trying to win you back.

And while you're certain that you're over him and is keeping him at bay for benefits, he certainly was not, and it somehow was making you guilty that you're somehow leading him on even when it was Sunghoon's face that you think of whenever you press your bullet vibrator against your clit, leaving out broken, breathy moans that underestimated how much you think you're going to moan for Sunghoon if time permits you.

Which brings you to here, a never-ending cat and mouse game that you have established with Sunghoon, who clearly was so head-over-heels for you.

The ordeal was simple: you, one of the bar's beloved entertainers, would finish a song that you sing and dedicate for Sunghoon, but wander off with a smile as you try and find yourself a suitable man vying for your attention. It was effective for you to make him jealous and demand your attention on him for the next hours.

Sunghoon had never gone past the eating only the third base, and Sunghoon was more than willing to eat your pussy on hours end. And you were willing to let him go past that, if only you haven't seen the ring that adorned his left hand, snug tight around his ring finger.

It was a stark reminder of how he was not for you, just how you are starting to become his.

"You sing here often?"

"I do," You'd giggle to whoever this guy's name is, you really didn't know, nor even tried remembering. You were sure it wasn't his name that you'll be screaming in the bathroom stalls of the bar.

"I should bo-"

"Then I'd want to book you, privately," Sunghoon cut the guy off, his voice reeking of jealousy and authority as he stood behind you, your back flushed against his chest.

"Ya," the boy raised his voice and poked Sunghoon's blue sweater tank top, "do you mind? We're talking here."

"And I'm talking to her, as well," Sunghoon responded, his eyes crinkling into amusement, "do you not want to talk to me, baby?" He pouts at you, nuzzling his chin to your neck as he leaves light kisses on it, making you gasp.

"I.." You trail off, biting your lip as your eyes moved back and forth between the guy and Sunghoon.

"I'm not wasting my time on this," the guy raised his hands in defeat, backing away, leaving you with the guy that you have tried to flirt indirectly through the night.

"Fancy seeing you here against sweaty bodies," You giggle as you turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down teasingly to have his lips over yours, to which Sunghoon growled and pushed his lips on yours, immediately pushing his tongue inside your mouth as his hands dug on the curves of your waist.

"You drive me so fucking crazy," he whispers to your lips, in which you hum as a response. Not a long while after, you're being guided to one of the restrooms, his lips now attacking your neck to leave noticeable bruises that you're trying to cover up before you go to your morning shift at the local library of your town.

He pushes you to an empty restroom, not minding to lock it as he cages you in between his body and the sink. “Are you having fun?” He suddenly asks as he pools your dress up your hips and starts rubbing you through your wet panties, “Playing with me, are you having fun?”

You looked at him through lidded eyes and nod, “I do,” you say as you bite your lip, spreading your legs wide, “I like it when you’re so crazy for me.”

He grunts and kneels down, pulling your panties down as his nose is immediately wafted off by the smell of your arousal spreading throughout your core, “So wet for me, the guy did that to you?” He spoke as his thumb pressed on your bare clit, making you shudder.

“N-no,” you squeaked out, holding on the sink behind you, “it has always been you.”

“Always been me?” Sunghoon chuckles as he blows air to your sensitive cunt, “I don’t know, babe, I’m starting not to believe it given how many times I’ve practically pulled you off against men who are thirsting over you.”

Not leaving you any moment to respond, Sunghoon attaches his lips to your sensitive nub, moaning at your familiar taste that he had been obsessed with.

Moaning his name, you immediately hold on his hair, tightening your grip on his soft, brown-black hair, to which Sunghoon tuts as he pulls away, his thumb replacing his lips as he presses and rubs circles on your clit, “You don’t get to touch me, princess.”

Grasping your wrist, Sunghoon had practically forced your hand off his hair, placing it on the sink behind you to continue his ministrations on your pussy.

“Love this pussy so much,” he breathes out, poking his tongue out to fuck your hole with, “so pretty, could get in this forever.”

You moaned in response, desperate to cum just by Sunghoon’s fingers alone. Instinctively, your hands went to play with your breasts, pulling your dress straps down to pool on your arms, you bit your lip as you pinched and flicked your nipples, mimicking the way Sunghoon does it when he was mouthing your tits instead of your pussy.

Sunghoon looked up at you and smirked, sneaking in a hand between your legs to spread your labia apart, forcing his tongue deeper into you as he shook his head sideways, nose prodding against your clit, mouth leaving out noises, making sure that anyone could walk in the unlocked restroom and catch you both in such sinful act.

With buckled knees, you started to grind on his tongue, your mind dancing on the quick release that you felt was bubbling at the pits of your stomach, “Y-you eat pussy so fucking good.”

“That’s where I’m best at, babe,” Sunghoon winks at you, pushing his middle finger inside you after tracing your hole with it, “and can you blame me? Your pussy tastes like heaven.”

“O-oh!” You squeaked out, feeling your orgasm could come if Sunghoon continued this. And as if Sunghoon knows how to push your buttons, he adds a second finger, then a third, his tongue now dancing on your clit as he panted against your core.

“Fuck - shit, Sunghoon!” You exclaim as you push his face to your core, panting as you whine, eyes screwed shut with your other arm failing to hold on the counter, regardless of how dry the sink it may be, body convulsing as you cum on Sunghoon’s face.

Sunghoon happily licked through your folds, slurping your cum messily and noisily. He stood up with your cum glistening on his lips, his mouth sporting the smuggest grin that made you want to kiss his face silly.

“Damn,” you breathed out, leaning toward his chest to ground yourself.

“We’re not done yet.”

Needless to say, Sunghoon made sure that you could cum thrice from his fingers and mouth alone.

The following week, you were in the same position — however, instead of your hand holding on the sink, it was Sunghoon’s, with his other hand fisting your hair as he holds you still while he fucks your mouth to prove a point.

“So f-fucking warm,” Sunghoon grunted, his balls trodding against your chin as he kept on cursing, too lost in the bliss of your mouth taking him tightly, mimicking a virgin pussy.

With blood almost drawn on his lips, Sunghoon lets out a guttural groan as he pushes you against his pelvis, his penis bullying its way on your throat as strings of warm cum painted your throat.

“Should get you jealous more often,” Sunghoon comments as he regains his breathing, “such a desperate slut you become once you start reminding me whose pussy my dick belongs to.”

Before you could respond, the tall boy pushes his lips against yours hungrily, tongue immediately poking inside to start a tongued kiss with you, cupping both of your cheeks, he made sure you aren’t going anywhere.

“Thighs,” you started, too overtaken by lust, but Sunghoon heard it, he held your face with one hand to force you to look at him, “Your thighs, Sunghoon, I want to-“

“Yeah? Wanna grind on it, pretty?”

You nod, anything that could have you feeling him against your throbbing core, “Please,” you pleaded, grabbing his wrist to make you suck on his ring-clad finger, “want it, so much.”

Sunghoon almost lets out an animalistic growl as he pulls you to one of the stalls. He reaches behind you to lock it before turning around and places the seat down, sitting on it before urging you to straddle him.

Pooling your dress over your lap, you did as you were instructed. Hanging both arms around his neck, you stood up to pull your panties down, the slight string of arousal visible from the cloth.

On the other hand, Sunghoon already had his pants and boxers discarded, his angry cock lay erect against his stomach. You licked your lips and straddled him again, your legs on either side of his thighs, thigh-grinding long forgotten.

Both of you hissed as your pussy made contact with his dick, and soon enough, you were both a grinding mess, your grinds interrupted by humps as you groped your tits, your head thrown back as you continue to moan Sunghoon’s name.

“Yeah, moan that n-name, he’s y-yours, isn’t he?” Sunghoon hissed, his hair all over his face before leaning down to suck on your free boob that has been exposed from the tubing of the dress that was pulled down by you prior.

“Mhm, he’s mine!” You squealed as you hit your high just in the same time as the pale boy you’re sat on.

“Fuck,” you chuckled.

“Damn,” Sunghoon said breathlessly before kissing your lips and leaning his forehead against yours.

It was the first time he kissed you on the forehead after hooking up.

Last, last week’s hookup session with Sunghoon has all become you’ve ever thought about as you placed the books on the shelves, pausing every now and then as you daydream of it.

It has been two weeks since Sunghoon had shown up in the bar that you’re working at every weekends.

And while you hoped that he could at least sweep in to wave or send a smile your way. But Friday had gone, so has Saturday, even Sunday - no signs of Sunghoon.

His absence seemed to gnaw on you as you started to search for him during weekdays at your off-duties, but none. No sign of Sunghoon.

And you can’t even text him, since he hadn’t given his number, and you didn’t, too.

You’ve found his Instagram page, but it has never been updated apart from the photo of a golf course which he had posted four days ago. Stories didn’t also help, as he never updates his stories. DMs are off, and the only way to contact him was through e-mail.

E-mailing him had crossed your mind the moment it reached Thursday, you were so close to losing your mind that you didn’t even care whether or not to message him through his work e-mail, regardless of the possibility that anyone within the network could see it.

“That’s too much of a thought,” said a voice that startled you. Turning around, you saw the infamous Sunghoon leant agains the bookshelves, arms crossed, mouth adorning a soft smirk that you’ve grown to love.

“Please, I bet you’re thinking I’m thinking of you,” you snorted as you continued sorting the books, eyes not meeting his as his gaze challenged you.

“Well, I don’t even have to bet. I know you’re thinking of me whether you admit it or not,” Sunghoon countered.

“What an ego,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes, disappointed by his sudden absence for two weeks, even without giving you a notice as to why.

“Where are you off to, tonight?” He asked out of nowhere.

“Home, as usual.”

“My place?”

“No, what do you mean?”

“You said you were going home?”

“Since when had your place been my home?”

“Are you willing for it to be?”

“Sunghoon, what?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him, looking at him as if he had three heads in one body.

“I’m serious, stay with me.”

“Sunghoon—“

“I don’t take no for an answer.”

“Sunghoon!”

“What a noisy librarian do I have here,” Sunghoon smirked, “I like it when you’re noisy though.”

With an exasperated sigh, you pulled Sunghoon at the back of the library, “What are you doing, Park Sunghoon?”

“Full name? Ouch,” he placed a hand on his heart.

“Sunghoon,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Let’s go home,” he said instead of answering your questions, pulling you by your arm to the direction of his car that has been parked in front of the library.

Now, it was supposed to be just a talk. A negotiation between you and Sunghoon to finally end whatever it was between you both, both your heart and mind exasperated by the uncertainty that was brought about by you and him.

But here you are, biting your lip as Sunghoon kissed you on your neck, alternating between kissing, licking, and sucking, as he kept your hips pinned down by the grip of his hands on it.

“Stop moving,” he demanded, looking at you with such fire in his eyes whenever you bucked your hips up onto him.

“Need you,” you whined out, desperate to grind on him again, this time, you were hoping that it would last long and be much more comfortable than the last time that you did in the stalls.

“I know, sweetie,” Sunghoon smirked before sitting up to grab his black necktie which he had on his nightstand, “This okay?” He asked as he raised the necktie before you, insinuating a plan that he had in mind.

With a nod and a verbal agreement, Sunghoon wrapped the blindfold around your head before pulling away to see you in your totality: laid back, eyes covered by the velvet cloth of his necktie, and naked — all just for him.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Sunghoon comments as he grabbed the cloth ropes that dangled on the edge of the headrest, grabbing it with a smirk, he hoists your arms up, making you gasp, as he tied it to the to the headboard.

He tested whether the knot was tight or just right, before peering down at you and cupping your cheeks as he leaned down to kiss on you.

Adjusting his body, Sunghoon left a trail of kisses from four face down to your nipple, before swirling his tongue around your sensitive nub. Pulling back, he grabbed the cold glass of champagne that sat on the trolley by his bed. Grabbing a small ice cube from the bucket of the bottle, he circled the ice around your nipple, earning a gasp from you.

"Cold, isn't it?" He questioned before leaning down again to give your other breast attention, and after a while, he switched places, giving you the same amount of pleasure from the cold and his warm mouth alone.

He trailed the melting ice cube down your body, making you shiver at how the cold trail was instantly replaced by his warm lips as he kissed you along the wet path of the melted ice cube.

"You and your pretty body," he whispers before grabbing another ice cube again, this time, he placed it on his tongue, letting the cold replace the warmth of his tongue.

Peering down between your legs, he crawled down until he was face near your core, making you sigh in anticipation, it was moments like this that you craved for Sunghoon to speed up his actions. It was no lie that Sunghoon ate pussy pretty good, and sometimes, you think, how good could he be when he finally has his dick inside you?

Sunghoon pokes his cold tongue against your hole, making you squeal as your legs thrashed up in surprise. He grinned as he gave kitten licks to your core, his hands pushing your legs far apart before diving into your cunt.

Moans and groans and the occasional noise from Sunghoon's licking on your core were all that could be heard in his bedroom. He kept his eyes on you, basking in your reactions before he inserted his middle and ring finger inside you, contrasting the coldness of his tongue.

"Fuck! I love your m-mouth," you whimpered out, wriggling from the overwhelming feeling that only Sunghoon had managed to get out from you.

"Always f-fucking my pussy with that m-mouth so, g-good - Sunghoon!" you exclaimed as you came on his mouth without warning, Sunghoon humming as he licked through your folds, mimicking the noise of that a happy man.

He straightened up and freed his aching cock from the restraints of his trousers and boxers, hissing as his dick slapped against his stomach before hovering over you again to tip your chin up for a messy kiss.

Sunghoon licked into your mouth before prodding it open so he could spit into it, "Swallow," was all he said before you closed your mouth and opened it in front of him to show him that you did what was told.

The boy groans as he places his dick in between your folds, setting his pace as he starts from something that's agonizingly slow, drawing out a pained whimper from you.

"Hoonie, want your cock."

"Yeah?" he breathed out, picking up his pace, "you already have it been your legs, pretty."

"No," you shook your head, "want it."

"Want it, where?" he starts to slow down without much thought as he dawns realization to what you said.

"Cock, Hoonie, w-want it inside me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, fuck! Please, hurry!" you pleaded, hands pulling against your restraints, "Want it inside me, Hoonie, please!"

"Condoms?"

"No, raw."

"Baby–"

"Please!"

One beg from you and Sunghoon's heartbeat has already picked up. Before you both even started seeing each other to hook up, you have already established that the farthest you could go with each other is oral. Other than that is off the table, as you have said, you both are completely off-limits.

Sunghoon's chest warmed at the thought of you warming up to him, "Okay, baby," he breathed out, "are you sure?"

"I am," you whined.

He leaned over and removed your blindfold and restraints, letting you adjust before pushing his lips on yours, "Thank you, thank you," he muttered in between kisses as he pulls himself away, prodding the tip of his dick on your throbbing hole.

"I gotta say," Sunghoon chuckled as he pushes his tip inside you slowly, earning a delicious moan from you both, "you're so goddamn pretty, more exceptionally so when I'm inside you."

Sunghoon has a way with words, that's one thing that you made yourself known. That was something about him that you think was what sealed the deal – he fed into your need for constant assurance, even though there were limitations between you both.

"Push it all in," you demanded.

Without another word, Sunghoon pushed himself inside, earning a throaty groan between you both.

"Shit, f-feel so g-good for me, oh, my god," Sunghoon breathed as he pushed his face into the crook of your neck, your arms immediately finding home around his torso.

Sunghoon picks up his pace as he continues on bullying his way inside you, relishing on how your pussy throbs around his dick. With every thrust that he lands inside you, your eyes roll at the back of your head, feeling the pulse of the veins of his dick with every drag.

"God, Sunghoon, I–" you cut yourself off with a groan by his ear, cradling his face as he placed light kisses on your shoulder, "Fuck, Sunghoon, so good!"

The boy pulled his face away, prying your mouth open as he spit into your mouth, his cock drilling inside you in the slowest, yet most delicious way. It was as if he was trying his best to memorize how your gummy walls enveloped his dick, in the hopes of making your pussy remember his.

And, to commit this into memory, Sunghoon removes the ring he had clad around his ring finger, reaching for your left hand that hung around your shoulder, and, in a lust-filled haze, he wore the finger around the nearest finger that was accessible to him, he'd fix that later.

Your eyes wandered to the ring that adorned your thumb, before biting your lip and looking at him. Sunghoon already adjusted himself, kneeling straight as he hikes your leg up and places it on his shoulder; and with a roll of his hips, both of you are already a whimpering, moaning mess.

"So f-full, fucking finally," you moaned out and Sunghoon reaches for your other hand to intertwine it with his, "Yeah? Been dreaming of it for so long, huh?"

Tapping your cheek he makes you look at him, "Been dreaming of this, t-too, baby," he says, panting, "been dreaming of d-doing more than just this, too,"

You looked at him with doe eyes, your lips dropping down to his lips, "Kiss me, Sunghoon."

Sunghoon nodded and kissed you, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts, it was in that moment that only the two of you existed.

"You're squeezing me so f-fucking..." Sunghoon trailed, eyebrows drawn to each other in concentration, "..so fucking good for me, God, I love you."

His hands travelled down to your clit and rubbed circles around it, making you whimper and pull his face to yours, your lips wanting to get a taste of his again.

"Not gonna last l-long, princess," Sunghoon muttered in between grunts, "You close?" He said as he looked at you, searching your eyes for more than just your sign of being as near as he is.

You hum reaching your head up to peck his lips, "M-me too, Hoonie, dick is f-fucking me so g-good," your head attempting to throw back as his tip kept on hitting that sweet spot inside you.

"I love you," Sunghoon whispers as he lets go of your leg on his shoulder, pressing onto your body as he finally lets go of his cum inside you, your release following suit after he kept on thrusting even if he was coming undone inside you.

For a while, you both had stayed in that position, Sunghoon still deep inside you in between your legs, legs weakly wrapped around his body, both of your arms wrapped around his neck as you combed through his hair.

There was a heavy weight in the air, something that demands to be addressed.

Sunghoon lifts his head up, his chin rest against your chest. With a quick kiss on the valley of your breasts, he pulls the hand that had the ring wrapped around your thumb, he kisses your inner wrist, before, with lidded eyes, removing the ring and placing it instead to your ring finger, kissing your palm after a close inspection.

Sunghoon had never been so sure in his life, until now.

"I meant what I said," Sunghoon says quietly, his eyes now trained on your hand, eager to confess that it had always been you all along.

"Sunghoon, we can't.."

"Why?"

"You're going to get married,"

"I called it off."

You looked at him with a gasp, "What?"

"I said I found a partner, I always told you I'll always have you close, right?" he says as he sent you a soft smile, relishing in the hand that played with his hair.

"You're crazy," you chuckled.

"You make me go crazy over you," Sunghoon smiles with his eyes almost close.

"I love you, too, Sunghoon."

And when your eyes both meet, Sunghoon smiled softly, and that was when you both knew – it was where you both are supposed to be.

Sunghoon hums as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, this time, sure.

"Stay with me tonight," Sunghoon whispers.

"I'll stay tomorrow, too," you add.

"And on the days after that?" Sunghoon asks, his cheek pressed against your chest.

"And on the days after eternity."

DISCLAIMER. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED/REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ.

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copinghex · 6 months ago

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Family bonds | T.S

Summary: After a hurtful comment at a fundraising event, you wonder what really bonds Tommy to your child.

A/N: Ok, so as I previously mentioned, I edited some of my old stories and will be reposting one per week. This is the first selected!

"Do you want to sit?" Tommy whispered in your ear, your hand went straight to your belly, moving up and down, where you baby rests and patiently waits to be born.

"No, I'm fine, just take this gin away from me, otherwise I'll be tempted," you pushed his glass away, "are the cute kids working?"

"The wives look more excited than the men, but yeah, four huge donations until now,"

"In less than two hours? That's a new record!"

This was probably the best business idea you ever had. The inauguration ceremony of the Shelby Institute for orphaned children took place in a cozy room, with closed windows and lighted up fireplaces, the cold breeze freezing the bones of anyone who dared to attend without a coat.

Months later, spring came to warm your bones and put a self-giving feeling into Thomas Shelby's heart. In the middle of a boring, typical week, he arrived home planning to uplift the structure of the institute's building.

He told you the idea during the night, with his hand resting on your pregnant belly and although he didn't tell you what made him come up with it, you could clearly see his line of thought.

Tommy could rarely afford nice things, there was no gentleness in survival and for most of his life, that was all he did. Finally, with his rise to new money, he could provide something he never had to children who look too much like him - comfort. Also, being seen as a charitable person would do no harm to the business.

The small change of plans you suggested put a smile on his face, instead of making a typical fundraising dinner, why not make an afternoon tea? The invitations encourage couples to bring their children, seeing those innocent little humans running around shall make them remember why to donate.

A mansion with a huge garden was rented for the event, maids were hired to look after the children and butlers served biscuits and hot cups of tea. For your surprise, the event had more children than adults, most couples - including you and Tommy - were outnumbered by their children.

Your eyes ran through the garden trying to find your little ones, the younger one was the easiest, no place was safest than inside your own mama, but it was better to keep an eye on the other three. Marie Louise Adler, whose hair looked exactly like yours. The twins, Henry and William Shelby, except for the eyes, are small versions of Tommy, from the physical appearance to the mannerism.

Quickly, you found William trying to teach one of John's girls how to use a slingshot. A few steps away, Henry had a handful of biscuits and carried a toy car made of wood.

"Where is Loui-'' before you could ask, a collective ugh followed by a child's cry got your attention.

Louise was under a tree with her knees on the grass, the hem of her yellow dress covered in dirt and the left leg of her white stockings ruined, exposing her bruised knee. Tommy reacted faster than you, his hand slid through your waist as he ran in her direction. You quickly followed after, rolling up the sleeves of your dress.

He picked Louise up, she put her arms around his neck and seemed to calm down a bit. A maid tried to apologize for neglecting your little girl, but you were too focused on following Tommy inside to answer.

Curious eyes followed your trio while you crossed the hallway and once you were in a private room, Tommy tried to put Louise on a sofa, but she didn't want to let go.

"C'mon, love," he encouraged, making her lift her crying face from his neck and allow him to sit her down.

"What happened, Lou?" you took her hair off her face and her stockings off, watching out to not brush her bruised knee.

"I was trying to climb on the tree, but I got scared and slipped up," she brushed off tears with her tiny hands.

Tommy took a napkin and wetted it with gin, after kneeling in front of the girl, he asked, "And what did me and mama say, eh?"

She looked down, ashamed of disobeying.

"You can only climb trees when me or daddy are around to help," you rubbed her back, trying to comfort her.

"I'm sorry," she pouted.

"Now I have to clean your knee, it's full of dirt," Tommy held her leg.

"No! It 's gonna hurt!" she pulled her leg back.

"Just a little, but don't think about it," you sat at her side, holding her head to your chest, "think about the delicious cake I'll get you when we get home!"

"Can we get some too?!" William, who'd been peeking the whole scene from the door, suddenly yelled, Henry tried to shush him and ended up being dragged by the hand into the room.

"Boys! How long have you been there?"

"It was William! He had the idea of following you!" Henry quickly accused.

"That 's not true! You were curiou-"

"Alright, boys, it doesn't matter," Tommy silenced the argument before it started, playfully hitting the twins foreheads with the napkin.

While you were distracted by the kids, Tommy had taken care of Louise's knee and the five of you were finally allowed to go back to the event.

Louise insisted Tommy should carry her, Henry and William took your hands and the eyes of many guests softened to the vision of you walking together.

Soon, the kids dispersed in the garden, Tommy got the attention of charitable housewives, interested in donating to the institute, you leaned on an empty table, sipping your favorite juice and smiling at anyone who crossed your way.

"Mrs. Shelby!" an old woman walked to you with a huge smile, "I must say, this is the most diverse charity event I attended in years!"

"Oh, thank you so much, misses…"

"Thompson, Aline Thompson, nice to meet you," she shook your hand. "you don't drink?"

"Usually I do, but I'm pregnant,"

"Darling! That's lovely! Your husband is already so lucky to have two kids, now one more!"

"Three," you corrected her.

"Pardon?"

"Thomas and I have three children, Henry, William and Louise,"

"Well, if that's the case, I guess you're the lucky one, Mr. Shelby indeed treats the girl as if she's his,"

"Hm," you pressed your lips together. "may I ask who told you Louise isn't Tommy's?"

"It's written in the guest list, Y/N Adler Shelby and Louise Adler, I'm sorry for Mr. Adler, I'm sure he was a good man," she smiled, "now, if you excuse me,"

Aline left you with teary eyes, how dared she speak about your family like this? But what if…? What if she was right? Did Tommy really love Louise? Did he see her as his daughter or an extension of you?

"Seven, Louise falling over had a good effect on them," Tommy held your arm, telling you about the new huge donations.

"Really? That's great, love,"

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just a bit tired,"

"I'll tell the driver to take you home,"

"No! There’s still a few hours to go,"

"Ada will take your place, most of the guests are leaving already anyway,"

"Oh, alright then," you drawled.

"Will you take the kids?"

"Yeah, I think," you looked around, searching for them, "just Louise, the boys look like they're having fun, can you look after them?"

"Sure."

The way home was quiet, Louise had asked to rest on your leg and fell into deep sleep, Frances helped you to carry her to bed. After a well-deserved bath, you had put some foundation's papers in order so Tommy could add today's profit without any problem. Night was falling and all you could do was wait for the rest of your family to arrive.

Heading upstairs, your eyes fixed in a spot they usually didn't, the family painting. It took months of persuasion for Tommy to agree to pose and even longer for it to be done, since he only agreed to give away two hours of his agenda.

Your heads leaned together in a sign of unquestionable affection, Louise sat in the middle, where your right and Tommy's left leg stuck together. William was on your left leg and Henry on Tommy's right, they were less than two years old and didn't get a characteristic Shelby haircut yet. All in all, you looked like a family, no one would dare to say otherwise, unless Aline Thompson.

The sound of the front door opening followed by the maid's heels told you Tommy arrived, you decided to wait in the stairs and he showed up alone.

"Where's Henry and William?" you asked with furrowed brows.

"At Ada's, they wanted a sleepover with Karl,"

While you both walked upstairs, he had a hand on your lower back and you realized he didn't ask about Louise, the very first thing you did when Tommy arrived was to ask about your kids, Tommy didn't even bother, probably because Louise wasn't his.

Time passed quietly, Tommy took a bath and asked a few questions about the paperwork, you told him to add today's profit and nodded to whatever else he said. Night could have been good, or at least, peaceful.

He sat on the bed looking through his paperwork and his sudden warning made your jaw clench, "You have a doctor's appointment scheduled for tomorrow, so be home when he arrives,"

"What for?"

"To check on our girl," he answered without paying attention.

"How do you know it's a girl?"

"This pregnancy it's different from the boy's,"

"Oh," you lay down, turning your back on him, "I'm glad you at least care about this girl,"

He sighed and you heard him writing something, a few seconds passed until he asked, "What did you say?"

You didn't answer.

"Y/n, what do you mean?" he touched your shoulder, trying to make you look at him.

"Nothing, Tommy, nothing,"

"No, what the fuck you mean with this girl?"

You sat up, taking a good look at his face before questioning, "How many children do we have, Tommy?"

"Three and another one on the way," he harshly answered and you sighed in relief.

"This is what you say to everyone else, right? Not just to me,"

"Yeah, y/n, of course, why would you fucking ask that?"

You teared up and Tommy's face softened, he cupped your face, catching some tears and patiently waiting for you to speak.

"You only have three, Tommy, the twins and this one," you rubbed your belly.

"Who said that?" he looked at you with disbelief.

"It's the truth,"

"Louise is my child,"

"You know she's not, I know it, you know it, and-"

"Y/n-"

"Aline Thompson fucking knows it,"

"Who 's Aline Thompson?"

"It doesn't matter, Tommy,"

"It fucking does, if there's someone around saying Louise isn't my child, then I have to know,"

"It won't change the facts."

"Listen," he moved closer to you and cupped your face again, "Louise is my child, I'm raising her, she's a Shelby."

"Then why didn't you ask about her when you arrived?"

"I asked Frances, she told me she's sleeping since evening,"

"Oh," your cheeks heated up, ashamed of this huge misunderstanding.

"Who's Aline Thompson?"

"A stupid woman at the charity tea, she said I was lucky for you treating Louise as your own,"

"Lucky, eh?" he nodded, "I bet her husband has a deal with the Shelby Company,"

"No, Tommy!" you giggle.

"Oh, just a few pounds to lose,"

"Tommy! You're mean! Not that she doesn't deserve it,"

Hesitant knocks on the door made you stop laughing, you and Tommy switched a look before he got up and opened the door.

"I'm sorry to bother, Mr. Shelby," a young maid holding Louise's hands apologized, "but Louise wants to sleep with you,"

Too sleepy to speak, your daughter rubbed her eyes and walked past Tommy, climbing on the bed and laying near you.

"Right, thank you-"

"Oh, also, Mrs. Thorne called, the twins want to come home."

#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #reader insert

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sunshine-on-marz · 7 months ago

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The brightest

Aaron Hotchner x Sunshine!Reader

In which Hotch’s grumpy reputation may be on the line

Dedicated to my pookie bestie boo @st4rgzer

The Aaron Hotchner had smiled 6 times in 2 days. Spencer counted. It also just so happened that you joined the BAU 2 days ago. You’d transferred from a different unit, where you only worked for a few weeks before they suggested you move to the behavioral analyst unit, namely because you kept profiling, very accurately, and completely on accident. Well it wasn’t exactly an accident, but you had no clue you could make reading people a job, it was always just something you did. It was honestly insanely impressive. What might be more impressive is just how much you lit up the bureau from the moment you walked in. Your smile far brighter than the painfully fluorescent lights, and from the moment Hotch greeted you he knew he was in trouble

Something about your everything has him absolutely enthralled. The way you absentmindedly fidgeted with your shirt, your smile, your laugh, the small comments and jokes you make during conversations, all the small favors you do for the team, all of it had him head over heels.

The rest of the team was starting to get weirded out. In this very moment Emily was trying her best to explain to you that no, Hotch isn’t ‘nice’. He’s caring and fatherly but he’s not ‘nice’. “Honestly it’s really really insane that you’re calling him nice and it’s even more insane that you’re not wrong, I’ve literally never seen him be this nice for this long” she explains, Derek walking up behind her “we talkin about Hotch’s crush on the new kid?” He asks, leaning on the back of Emily’s chair before looking up at you “hey sugar” he says, you wave at him through your laughter. “Guys I highly doubt he has a crush on me” you explain “maybe he just likes me.. as a person” you explain. “Y/n he practically has heart eyes when he talks to you” JJ butts in, Spencer lifting his hand with a thumbs up. Just then Rossi walks in “are any of you working?” He asks, Emily answers “we’re working on convincing y/n that Hotch is in love with them”, Rossi just laughs. Which says a lot more then his words ever could. “See?!” Derek shouts, gesturing to Rossi who’s still laughing to himself.

“See what?” Hotch’s voice rang through the bullpen from where he stood at the balcony infront of his office. “Nothing!” Everyone said in unison, other than you, you just sat with a confused, but amused look on your face. “Y/N, my office” Hotch said, Emily and Derek having to cover their mouths to keep from laughing. You, albeit nervously, walk upstairs and to Hotch’s office. “Sir” you say softly as you walk into his office, he follows behind you. “You’re not in trouble” he says, chuckling softly as he watches your shoulders relax. “That’s good- no actually that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day” you say, exasperated and relieved. “I wanted to make sure you were settling in well” he says, you smile “oh yea it’s been great!” you smile “everyone’s been absolutely lovely! You weren’t lying when you said it’s a family here”, he smiles softly “it’s good to know you’re feeling included” he says, he slides you over a peice of paper. “The higher ups want us to start getting written statements from the new hires, to make sure everything’s running smoothly, would you mind filling this out for me?” He asks, you nod, he starts again “well excuse me for a second” he says as he walks out of his office, closing the door behind him and starring at his team who were all standing as close to the wall as possible without being in the window. “Will you all mind your own business?” He says, a sea of small agreement and apologizing spilling from the team as they walk off, only Rossi staying behind. “Yes?” Hotch says, raising an eyebrow as he waits for Rossi’s inevitable, and probably sarcastic, remark. “Let them get through the first week before you ask them out” Rossi says, laughing to himself as he walks away, Hotch just smiles, once again reminded of the downside of working with profilers.

I genuinely didn’t know how to end this sorrrrrrryyyyyyyyyy!!!!

I love you guys so so so much!

Remember to reblog and tell me what you thought of the fic!! Reblogs and feedback make the world keep spinning!!

#criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds hotch #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch hotchner

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dumpywrites · 17 days ago

Text

Nomenclature - Kim Taehyung / V

Prompt: “Tell me your name.” “No.”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Fluff, strangers to lovers, simp! Taehyung, christmas cliche, some mentions of Yeontan passing (RIP Yeontan 🪽)

Pairing: Taehyung x she/her reader

a/n: I was again inspired by their song, winter ahead's music video is just truly beautiful :') Happy holidays everyone!

“Tell me your name.”

“No.”

“But, why???”

You rolled your eyes, simply walked past the guy who had been pestering you for weeks now.

Allegedly, his name was Kim Taehyung. Ever since he moved to the town and bumped into you that one time at an art exhibition, this was all he ever did. You found out he was a sculptor, and that a few of his pieces were in fact shown that time. No one was supposed to know about this information because he was using an alias called “Vante”, but your friend Namjoon who was the art curator was a bit nosey. That was also probably how this Taehyung guy found out about your workplace.

To be quite honest, you didn’t know why someone like him would want to move in a small town. He had looks, money, and supposedly fame too. He looked more like a Los Angeles or Paris kind of person. With those wavy black hair, perfect sculpted by the gods face, you would assume he was a model. But instead here he was, disturbing your cleanup duty.

“Namjoon said that you’re the same age as me.”

“Namjoon needs to shut the fuck up sometimes.”

“Wow, easy.” He chuckled, slumping down on the table. “I never ask him for your name though. I want to achieve it myself!”

You looked around your donut shop and sighed. You still needed to clean the tables and it was already half an hour past closing time.

“I’ll help.” He stood up with a boxy grin, pointing his finger up.

“You can help me by going home.” You rolled your eyes.

“Come on… I have no friends here.” He whined.

“Namjoon is your friend, no?”

“He’s barely in town.”

“I’m sure you can make friends elsewhere.” You said as you wiped the counter.

He hummed, puffing his cheeks. “Why don’t you hire me? I can work part time. I’m mostly free! It seems like a lot of work just by yourself here…”

“It’s only busy on holidays, usually I can manage it very well. And I do have a staff with me, he’s just currently not here since his dad is sick.”

He chewed the inner part of his cheeks, seemingly in thoughts again. He didn’t say anything but you saw him started cleaning the mess from the tables and throwing them to the trash.

“So, how long have you been running this place?”

“It’ll be two full years this December.” You said, your voice slowly going far as you moved to the kitchen.

The man quickly followed you, clearly still wanted the conversation to keep going. You didn’t even bother to tell him away at this point. Maybe the company wasn’t so bad.

“That’s cool.” He nodded, looking around the kitchen. “Have you always loved baking?”

“What is this, an interview?” You glared.

“Maybe?” He giggled.

“As a kid I used to want to study fashion and tailoring, but money was tight and I ended up just going for a normal and boring degree which is, accountancy.”

He voiced an “ah” and nodded. “If you have the chance, would you still do it? Pursuing fashion and all…”

“I don’t know.” You sighed, hands full with the dishes. “The shop needs me. She doesn’t have anyone else.”

“She?” He looked at you in amuse.

“Yeah, it’s a she.” You held down a chuckle.

He quietly helped you dry the plates and put them on the rack.

Finally finished with the chores, you turned off the lights and grabbed your jacket. As you moved to the door, the man just followed you around like a puppy.

“See ya, Taehyung.” You waved blankly and turned away, walking to the opposite direction.

“Wait!” He called, making you stop in tracks. “Do you want me to drive you home?”

“My home is just a ten minute walk.”

“Then I’ll walk you!” He smiled happily.

“I’m not giving away my address to you.” You folded your arms.

“Uh… text me when you get back home then?”

“I do not have your number.”

“That’s why we need to change that now.”

“It’s fine.” You turned your back again, the disappointed expression in his face went unseen to you. “Thank you for the offer though.”

He sighed with a smile, but waved his goodbyes to you anyway. There was always a next day, he thought.

You didn’t see him again until the next three days. This time he dropped by for a coffee, that you had recently noticed was bought for the sake of buying something, and a chocolate donut along with it. It seemed like this time instead of bugging you, he just sat there, sketching on his small sketch book, looking like he was shooting an advertisement for your cafe.

He never greeted you nor had he said anything to you and he had been sitting there for four hours now. Your staff had offered to talk to him, but it just did not feel right to disturb him while looked so passionate. The shop wasn’t too busy at the moment anyway.

“You sure he’s not a creep?” Jungkook, your staff said to you in a whisper.

“Can’t exactly say he’s not one, but he’s harmless.” You told him.

“He hasn’t touched his coffee.”

“I don’t think he even likes coffee.”

“Then why even order one?! What a weirdo…” Jungkook looked at the guy with side eye.

You heard the entrance door opened and saw a costumer. “Kook, handle the register for me, I’ll talk to the guy.”

Jungkook nodded and you went inside the kitchen. Grabbing an empty cup, you filled it with water before heading to the man sitting prettily at the corner.

Taehyung was quick to put down his pencil and book as soon as he saw you placing down a glass of water. “Oh, hello!” He gave you a warm smile.

“You need to drink something.” You told him, pointing at the water with your eyes.

“Thanks, I already have the coffee though…”

“You haven’t even taken a single sip from it, Taehyung.” You folded your arms, leaning slightly at the table. “Why order one when you don’t like it?”

His eyes beamed. “You noticed???”

“You’ve been here for hours and the cup’s still full.”

“Sorry,” He chuckled and then took a full sip from the glass of water. “I wanted to look cool.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t like coffee either. Not by choice cause I have acid reflux.” You told him.

“We’re bonding already, I see… miss, uh…?” He eyed you.

“Nice try.” You turned, walking away from him. You hoped he didn’t see the corners of your lips curled up ever so slightly.

In the next few days he continued to visit your cafe to seemingly work on his sketch, but he did not get any coffee anymore. Instead, he now ordered some lemon tea alongside the chocolate donut.

Usually, your shop would be closed on Sundays. You needed some time for yourself in order to prioritize your mental and physical health. But with the Christmas and New Year just around the corner, the place had been extra busy so you decided to open half day on Sundays just until the holiday season was over.

That was why Taehyung looked so excited when he walked past the cafe and saw the lights on.

“Welcome to Adore, what— oh.” You dropped your greetings as soon as your eyes met.

“You’re open on Sundays now?”

“Only during the holidays.” You simply said. “What can I get you?”

“Cherry jam filled donut?” He asked, pointing at the glass display.

“Yup. It’s a holiday special.”

“Interesting.” He hummed. “I’ll get one.”

“Alright. Anything else?”

“Nope. Please do print the bill with the cashier name on it this time…”

“You’re never gonna give it up, huh?”

“You’re so dramatic. We’re basically friends at this point, why can’t I have your name?” He chuckled.

You shook your head in disbelief. “If there’s nothing else, that would be two—“

“Boba-eyed boy isn’t here today?” He asked while looking around.

“Jungkook’s shift doesn’t include Sundays.” You sighed. “Can we please proceed? There’s a line behind you.”

“Right, sorry…” He grinned awkwardly and paid the order. He waved you goodbye in a goofy way before exiting through the door.

A lady who was a returning costumer was next in line. She smiled at you and spoke, “I’ve never seen him around before.”

“He just moved here around a month or so.” You told her. “What can I get you today?”

“Oh, the usual would be great, darling.” She smiled and you quickly typed matcha latte into the order. “I’d like the holiday hamper too, they look adorable.”

You immediately went to get the donut set. “I know, right?” You smiled at her.

You quickly typed and tally her order. After she was done with the payment, she spoke up again. “That boy seems nice… and seems into you.” She snickered.

“Please don’t mind him.” You smiled at her and sighed. “He just has a lot of time in his hands.”

“Don’t be so negative, sweetheart. It’s almost Christmas.”

She smiled before waving you goodbye, as you did the same to her.

After the half day, you decided to spend your free time at the mall, window shopping and some actual light shopping too since you were looking for small gifts to give to your friends. On the way home, you were surprised to see Taehyung in front of your shop. He was tiptoeing in cold, hands in his pocket, trying to take a peek inside the closed store.

“You’re here!” He waved cheerfully. “I didn’t know you closed early?”

“I only open until three on Sundays.” You said, feeling a little nervous seeing him outside work. “Did you wait for me…?”

“I want to give you this!” He quickly handed you a piece of paper, what appeared to be a ticket. “There’s a small art pop up at the town park next week. I have some of my works there and I was wondering if you want to come and see them with me?” He looked at you with hopeful eyes.

You looked at the ticket and at him back and forth. A small art exhibition wouldn’t hurt anybody. The lady’s words somehow flashed through your mind. Maybe you needed to loosen it up a bit with the negativity.

“It won’t clash with your work! It’s on Sun—“

“Sure.”

“Aww, man… I was hoping— wait, did you just say yes???” He widened his eyes at you. It was funny how he was already expecting you to reject him.

“I mean, I’ll probably go either way so…” You shrugged. “I’m surprised Namjoon hasn’t told me anything about it.”

“I told him not to.” He smirked.

“Well, that explains it.” You broke into a small smile.

“Wow.” He gasped. “I just made you smile.”

Your expression dropped when you realized. “You’re crazy.”

He giggled, appeared to be very happy with himself. “Wanna take a stroll?”

Both of you ended up sitting down on a random bench across the river. The cold winter air was making you shiver and Taehyung being Taehyung, he quickly removed his coat and draped it across both of you. So now you were sitting shoulder to shoulder, under the moonlight.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, the cherry donut tasted great! You should keep it on the menu.” He showed you his thumbs up.

“Really? I wasn’t so sure with the jam since I made them from scratch…” You thought. “It’s not overly sweet? I was worried the powdered sugar would be too much.”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Why?” He turned to look at you with a mischievous grin. “You don’t trust my opinion?”

“N-No! I’m just making sure…” You looked away.

Never knew looking at him in such close range would be this… nerve wracking. You never noticed his beautiful lashes, nor how unique his eyes were, one eye with monolid and the other had double.

You cleared your throat, backing away slightly. You wondered why it suddenly felt hot even though you were out in the cold winter weather.

“Is there a reason why I can’t know your name?” He suddenly asked.

You looked around, fidgeting the hem of your sweater. “You’re too positive, too eager… It scares me.”

You were smiling, but Taehyung didn’t like the way your expression looked. The smile looked like it was laced with sadness behind it.

“What made you decide to move here?” You asked, changing the topic suddenly.

He looked like he wanted to protest, but chose not to. “I can’t stand the big city. Always thought I was born to live that life, but turns out I hate the crowd.”

“Did you not have your alias before?”

“I used to star in movies.”

“Damn, didn’t know you’re THAT famous.” You pouted your lips, impressed.

“I’m no Ryan Gosling or anything, my thing was only on small movies or series.” He chuckled.

“Wait, so you quit just like that???”

“My company kept pushing me on projects that don’t represent me. I was so fed up of putting on a facade in front of everyone, including behind cameras when meeting people in parties and whatnot…” He sighed. “And with my dog passing away recently, I thought a fresh start might be good for me. Cutting off all the toxic branches, you know?”

“I’m so sorry for your loss…” You couldn’t help but to feel sad hearing his story.

“It’s okay. He’s been sick for so long, so he’s happier now somewhere.” He smiled. “Do you wanna see his pictures?”

You widened your eyes in surprise. “I can?”

“Sure. Just a sec…”

He took out his phone and showed you a few photos from a dedicated album. Your heart melted upon seeing the images of the adorable Pomeranian. There was a few photos showing the dog wearing costumes, some he took with his friends, and even some selfies of him with the late dog.

“His name was Yeontan.” He said, fingers still scrolling through the phone, letting you see more pictures.

“I’m sure he was a good boy…” You gave him a smile.

“The best.” He smiled back, almost teary eyed.

Maybe it was the festivities around you, making your heart softened, but you finally agreed to him walking you back home. It was almost awkward to say goodbye as deep down you wanted to hug him. Not only as a farewell, but you wanted to comfort him after hearing his story. You were fighting with your inner morals and self respect, then ended up with a simple fist bump. To be fair, that was more you coded anyway.

He was very sweet, waiting in front of your house, making sure you entered the door before leaving. You had to shoo him away through the window to make him leave. The sound of his laughter as he waved at you, sounded like a soft Christmas song.

You did not get to see him until the day before the exhibition. You and Jungkook were busy cleaning up the place, and you could hear your staff’s growl when the sound of the door bell could be heard, thinking it was a costumer coming on closing time.

“Oh, it’s the creep.”

“Hello, boba boy.” Taehyung greeted playfully at the guy.

“I do not like this guy.” Jungkook pointed to him and looked at you.

You gave Tae a small smile before patting Jungkook’s shoulder. “I don’t either.” You chuckled.

“Oh, yeah sure!” The younger guy protested, rolling his eyes.

“I’ll be done in ten minutes.” You looked at the guy who was waiting next to the door.

“Take your time.” He smiled at you, but earned another glare from the staff boy.

After you were done and Jungkook went home, subsequent to giving the waiting man a few death stares. You heard Taehyung huffing and puffing, hands inside his pocket, while you were locking your entrance door.

“What do you wanna talk about?” You asked him.

“The exhibition is tomorrow…”

“I know.” You giggled. “And?”

“Hey, I don’t have your phone number to just text this thing, okay?” He said in defense, making you laugh. “I have something to give you though…”

“Oh? You don’t have to!”

You backed away one step from him but that did not stop him from taking out something from his pants pocket. He took out a small maroon colored jewelry box, and your heart was racing out because, to random people this might look like he wanted to propose to you.

He opened the box and showed it to you. A beautiful silver-plated Vivienne Westwood necklace was inside of it, you could notice it right away with the iconic Saturn orb.

“Taehyung, I can’t accept this! I don’t even have anything to give you…”

“I just think it’d look great with formal looks, for the exhibition and all…” He looked away shyly. “Just take it, please.”

Your hands were slightly trembling as you reached out for the box. “Thank you. It’s really beautiful.”

“Uh huh.” He grinned, rocking back and forth playfully. “So uh… can I finally have your phone number? I kinda need to know when to pick you up…” He looked at you with hopeful looks.

“Sure.” You chuckled.

“Yes!” He threw his fist up, before quickly recollecting himself and cleared his throat. “Uh, here…” He handed you his phone.

As you typed your number in, he suddenly stopped you.

“Don’t type your name in!”

You looked at him with crooked head, wondering if he had lost his mind. The fact you were about to do it too.

“Just tell me tomorrow, if you want to.” He grinned.

“Okay…?” You chuckled and handed him back the phone. “What’s this all about?”

“Where’s the fun if I tell you.” You could see his cheeks turning a rosy color despite the low light.

“Suspicious.” You eyed him, couldn’t help a smile. “But I’m intrigued.”

He flashed you his usual boxy grin, hands inside the pocket as he blew a cold smoke. “I’ll take you home?”

You might not realized it, but Taehyung had slowly but surely began to tear down the barrier you built one by one. Whether it was the constant affection, random jokes, or the small details that he would always noticed, whatever it was, his presence made you felt safe.

Came next day, you had texted Taehyung when to pick you up at your home after work. The struggle and anxiety of choosing the right outfit really joined late. The whole day you thought you had figured it out, but when you finished putting it all together, you started overthinking. Does Taehyung like woman in skirts? Does he prefer woman with hair up or down? Would it be too much if you wear a little bit of makeup?

The choices landed on a simple black mini dress with a white shirt under it. It was the most formal-but-not-try-hard-but-also-still-cute kinda outfit you had. Your red plaid patterned pumps matched the whole theme of the Vivienne necklace that was gifted to you days prior.

As you take a look at your reflection in the mirror, your phone rang. Expecting it to be Taehyung, you looked up the caller name revealing your friend Namjoon instead.

“Hello?”

“You’re coming to the exhibition, right?”

“I am. Why?”

“Tae’s picking you up?”

“Yeah, I think he’ll be here in fifteen.”

“I’m assuming things are well between you and him?” There was a hint of sneaky teasing in his tone of voice.

“Didn’t know you were trying to make something happen between us.” You said as you looked at the mirror, applying lipgloss.

“Wasn’t suppose to, I don’t think that was his initial intention either.” The guy chuckled from the other line. “But I don’t know man… I just think it’s good to see you with someone again, no? You’ve been through so much and I think Taehyung is a good person.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here, we don’t even know if he’s even thinking that way.”

“Well, I know.” He emphasized. “Dude wouldn’t even make a move without my permission.”

You broke into a smile. “I didn’t know you’re that protective of me.”

“Hey, ever since what happened with that sick bastard, you had been shutting yourself down. You kept yourself busy with work, you don’t even socialize that much anymore…” He sighed. “And I know you are scared. I know you’re afraid of people that show you so much interest so fast, people who are all sunshine and happiness. But don’t you think it’s about time you try to trust again?”

“I don’t know Joon… to be honest with you, I feel safe with him. He seems like he has the purest intention, and even if he doesn’t even think about this romantically, I still want a friend like him. But…” You paused. “That’s why it’s even scarier. He’s broken all the walls I’ve built. If he hurt me, I’ll be back to ground zero again.”

“It’s always worth the risk.” Your friend said sternly, assuring you. “And don’t worry, I’ll personally punch him in his goddamn top five most handsome men face if he ever tries to hurt you.”

You laughed. “Thank you, Joon.”

“Go get dolled up. I want jaws on the floor when you arrive.”

“That’s not gonna happen, but whatever.” You laughed again. “See ya.”

“See you, lover girl.”

You had your fair share of Christmas movies. You were also never much of a romantic person yourself, so the Christmas movies dreamy golden retriever boy coming to sweep you off your feet cliche was never your cup of tea. But never say never, people said.

The sleek back hair, the preppy white button up, the black suit. Who were you kidding, did this person steal his outfit from a movie set or something? You were sure you were getting picked up by a friend, not the prince himself.

“Hi.” He said, a bit breathless.

“Hi there.” You said bashfully. “You look great.”

“Don’t steal my line.” He laughed, pulling his collar slightly. “Oh shit, I forgot.”

“What is it?”

You saw the man quickly ran to his car and picked up something from the back seat.

Lord saves us all. He came back with a bouquet.

“Oh my god.” You rolled your eyes, laughing. “You can’t keep doing this!”

“It’s too much, is it?” He eyed you with a smirk.

“I like them though.” You smiled as he handed you the flowers. “Although I must admit, red rose is a bit overrated.”

“It matches your shoes though.” He pointed out.

“I guess you’re right.” You giggled. “Wait just a sec, I’ll vase them.”You came back a few minutes later after quickly finding a jar for the roses. “Ready?”

“After you.” He playfully said.

You had the opportunity to bond over music taste through the car ride. You shared your playlist and so did he. You tried your best to not sneak in looks but you caught him doing the same thing a few times, in which both of you just laughed it off.

“Wow, she’s finally out and about, folks!” Namjoon greeted you as soon as both of you were in sight.

“I do go out sometimes, you’re exaggerating.” You slapped your friend’s arm jokingly.

“Buying groceries doesn’t count.”

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s just leave this guy.”

Taehyung laughed. “Wasn’t planning on letting him trail us anyway.”

“You guys are disgusting. I am busy too, excuse you.” Namjoon shook his head playfully. “Enjoy the show, don’t forget to see the main piece!” He eyed Taehyung, wiggling his eyebrows.

“We get it. Now shoo.” Taehyung gestured with his hand at the tall guy. Namjoon laughed once again before leaving the two of you. “Shall we?” He asked, gesturing his arm in hopes you would link yours over.

You nodded and happily obliged.

He cleared his throat as both of you start walking. “I’m supposed to be your tour guide and I rehearsed my whole opening speech, but now I’m nervous as hell with you being this close to me.”

Your cheeks flushed and you giggled. “It’s okay, let’s just both be visitors today.”

“Alright…” He breathed out. “You can ask questions if you’d like. Not everything here is mine but I know a thing or two about them too.”

Soon your eyes landed on a grayscale painting with random splashes of shapes decorating it. You let go your hand from his arm, stepping closer to the artwork, admiring it from close range. The amount of small details made up for the lack of vibrant colors, the visible brush strokes and different textures made it look very unreal to you.

“Caught your eye?”

“It must took a lot of time and effort doing all the different textures and details.”

“Yeah, it took me months. Made this while thinking about the last time I fell in love.” He smiled at you.

You were taken aback. Your eyes went down to the small signature done by the man himself. “One would’ve think being in love involves more bright colors…”

“It was more complicated than that.” He stepped closer and stood next to you, eyes on the painting as well. “There was a mix of emotions in there. Happiness, sadness, the in betweens… But all of that memories belong to my past, hence the gray palette.”

You were debating if you should ask more about the said past.

“You could ask, you know. If you’re curious…” He said, as if he could read your mind. “It’s okay, we ended on good terms. She just fell out of love. I guess I just bore her.”

“That’s awful. How could someone find you boring?”

You froze when you realized what you had just said.

The man chuckled as soon as he heard. “Thank you for the compliment.”

You turned away, blushing. “Let’s move on.” You walked ahead.

He followed your pace and walked aside you. “What about you? What’s your past like? If you don’t mind me asking…”

“I don’t really have that much experience.” You said with eyes still roaming the area. “Namjoon didn’t tell you anything?”

“He loves to gossip but he also cares about you very much, so no.”

You smiled and puffed a sigh. “It might not sound like that much of a big deal, but the last person I dated lovebombed me at the lowest point of my life. I was dealing with the loss of my grandma, moving back to this town to continue her bakery, and he came to me just like that only to leave me for another woman like I was nothing.”

“Hey, that is a big deal what are you even talking about.” He stopped and looked at you, seemingly a bit pissed too after hearing your story.

“I try not to let it get to me anymore, I guess.” You pulled the hem of his sleeves, signaling him to continue walking further. “It’s getting better now, thank you.”

“Thank you?” He eyed you.

“Yeah, thank you.” You smiled.

He chose not to question it and just continue the tour with a big grin decorating his face. The two of you continued the tour before Taehyung suddenly stopped you from making a turn to the last room to see.

“Uh, before you go I need to tell you something… I want you to know that this didn’t happen on purpose.” He plastered a nervous smile.

“What are you talking about?”

“The inspiration didn’t quite reach me until the very last few days… I was supposed to sculpt a whole different thing, but I ended up with a bust.”

“Oh? Then I can’t wait to see—“

“Wait,” He grabbed your wrist, stopping you. “I want to let you know that I made this because it’s all that’s been occupying my mind the past few weeks and I don’t mean it in a creepy way… in case you’re offended.” He chuckled nervously again.

“Why would I get offended?” You looked at him suspiciously.

He took a deep breath and breathed out heavily. “Let’s go see it.”

Once you were inside, the first thing that caught your eye was a huge bust sculpture facing back. There was somewhat of a drip effect coming from the neck downwards, huge mess of concrete pooling at the bottom, creating the illusion of an unfinished raw work. From the looks of it, the statue seemed to be of a woman, but you couldn’t judge for sure. As you stepped closer, circling to get a better view, Taehyung quietly followed you from behind.

You began to notice the ear, the side profile and how oddly familiar looking it was. Once you finally see the full front view, it all made sense to you.

The sculpture was in fact made to look like you. It had your eyes, nose, lips, everything. It was you, with your hair up like how you would during work hours.

“T-Tae… is this…”

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at you with reddened cheeks. “What do you think?”

You were still in awe, speechless of seeing a literal art piece of yourself, most importantly, presented to the public eye. You weren’t sure if screaming or crying would be the appropriate way to react.

Seeing you stunned silent, Taehyung began to panic a little. “It’s creepy, isn’t it? I’m sorry…”

“No!” You quickly voiced out. “It’s just… I’m just loss of words. I can’t exactly believe what I see.”

“I can’t either.” He said, looking uneasy still. “It just happened out of nowhere. I only realized when I was already halfway done with your nose.”

“I…” You took a good look at the piece again, before continuing. “It’s really beautiful. I wasn’t even sure it’s me until I see the full view.”

“Well, that’s how you look in my eyes.” He giggled.

You blushed. Clearly you didn’t have any comeback ready in you for this.

“If you look closely, this piece doesn’t have a name yet.”

You looked down to see the name plate empty, as told. Then something just connected in your head. This cheeky smart bastard.

“Wanna name it?” He looked at you with a big contagious smile on his lips.

You nodded, mirroring the smile he had on. Instead of immediately saying your name, you stepped closer and hugged him, in which he instantly returned, resting his head on top of yours. In his embrace you looked up and finally told him your name.

The expression he had was mixture of joy and surprise. Both of you bursted into laughter in unison. For a moment, the world seemed to have stopped just for you. You even forgot the existence of other visitors wandering around. It was just you and him.

Taehyung took out something from his side pocket, a black marker, which he wiggled playfully in front of you. He looked left and right, making sure no one would notice, before he quickly wrote something on the golden plate.

“What if someone sees you?!” You whispered.

“Don’t worry, Namjoon already knows.”

He chuckled and took your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together as he led you through the exit. You didn’t get to see exactly what he wrote on the plate, safe to assume it was probably just your name.

Little did you know, Namjoon had reached the room, examining the new named sculpture, with the word “Love” now scribbled on top of its name plate. He couldn’t help but to be happy for his dear friends.

Thank you for reading! 🎨

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts scenarios #taehyung imagine #taehyung scenarios #kim taehyung #bts v #taehyung x reader #taehyung x y/n #taehyung fluff #bts christmas

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wooataes · 1 year ago

Text

Bangtan’s Receptionist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader, implied ot7 x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Mafia AU, swearing, Death, blood, injuries, mentions of human trafficking but nothing too detailed, guns, character death.

Summary: Bangtan’s contracts are clear and concise. They are to be followed to the letter, including the most important rule, do not touch their men.

A/N: Just another generic Mafia Yoongi Drabble I couldn’t stop thinking about since Haegeum came out. 🫠 I could possibly turn this into a little oneshot series for each member, let me know if you want more!

- Tae 🥰💜✨

Request to join my taglist here!

Masterlist

Min Yoongi, in simple terms, is a straight cut business man. With his 6 other colleagues, his brothers, he runs Bangtan Industries, which on the outside seems like a clean cut courier company. On the inside however, the cargo that is transported by Bangtan Industries is more than just letters and stationary for offices. Yoongi and his boys, as the rivals know them, are extremely loyal to their men who work alongside and under them, even so far as to including in contracts that they can be terminated if any harm comes to any member of Bangtan Industries, even as far as the janitor who cleans the office on weekends. Any attack on their men is an attack to them directly, and the whole world knows of this fact.

You were hired 3 years ago by the CEO of Bangtan, Kim Namjoon to be the front of the company, their receptionist and on occasion, assistant for all 7 leaders. They’re all particularly fond of your bubbly presence in the office building, always happily greeting the bosses with a smile and providing homemade lunches on occasion, which usually is more often than not. You always make sure the boys keep their health up, not even phased by their attitudes when they spent too many hours without sleep. You’ve been the most consistent employee, and the members are more than grateful to have you.

“Good morning, Master Min!” You chirp as Min Yoongi strolls through the office door, adjusting his tie. He can’t help but give you a soft smile.

“Y/N, you know that I’d rather you call me Yoongi when its just us. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Oh, I know, I’m just way too used to it!” You grin as you place a take-away coffee cup and a wrapped toasted sandwich on the desk in front of you. “Breakfast is served.”

“You also don’t have to do that every morning too.” He lets out a huff with a grateful smile. “I hope you got your usual too. If I find out you didn’t, I’m forcing you to take your break early to go get.” Yoongi chuckles as you wave the second paper cup on your hands. He nods with finality and takes your makeshift breakfast for him and makes his way to his office.

After a quiet morning, you’re startled by a loud bang of the doors to the entrance opening and a large man in a 3 piece suit with his gaggle of men trailing in behind him, clearly armed, stalking up to your front desk.

“Good morning, sir. How can I be of help today?” You hum, the large men not phasing you.

“We’re here to see Min.” The man grumbles, hands squeezing the edge of the desk.

“Oh of course,” you smile, typing up on your computer. “Give me a few moments to see if he’s available to see anyone right now.”

You can feel the mans eyes on you as you’re typing, waiting for the response to pop up.

“Ah, I’m sorry sir, Master Min isn’t available right now. You are more than welcome to take a seat and wait until he’s ready-”

You yelp as the man reaches over, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up so you are face to face with him. You wince, his nails digging into your skin and small trickles of blood running down your arm.

“Listen here, you little bitch,” he seethes, “i have been trying to get on Min’s ass for 2 weeks about my fucking cargo I purchased from him and it still hasn’t arrived yet. If you don’t get him out here, I’m storming in there myself and getting my shit back.”

“What on earth is going on here?” Yoongi steps out from his office after hearing the commotion, adjusting the cuff on his white button up as he stalks up to the reception desk. “Ah, Mr Yang. I was waiting for you to show up.”

“Min.” Yang hissed, dropping your wrist and pushing you back into your seat, which Yoongi takes note of. “Where the fuck is my cargo? You said it would be here within the month and yet its the 27th and nothing.”

“Miss L/N.” Yoongi speaks, causing you to snap your head towards him. “Did he hurt you?” He eyes your wrist, which you’re trying to hide under the desk, clearly not very well as it is still in Yoongi’s line of vision.

“O-oh, no, Master Min. I’m fine, really.” You stutter out, giving him a smile.

“I will deal with you after I take care of business.” He murmurs, looking down at your hidden wrist, blood smearing into your blouse. “Mr Yang, if you could come inside. I do believe my receptionist shouldnt have to deal with the likes of this, wouldn’t you agree?” His tone is icy as Yang grunts, nodding his head before pushing past Yoongi and strutting through into his office with his men following behind. “Y/N, I would recommend playing sone music for the next 10 minutes, okay?” is the last thing Yoongi asks of you before closing the door behind him.

“I dont understand why you are so upset, Yang. I gave you exactly what you asked for.” Yoongi hums, sitting at his desk and watching Yang and his men stand over the desk menacingly.

“Thats bullshit and you know it, Min.” He barked, slamming his fist on the table.

“Oh, is it?” He raises his eyebrow, leaning forward and placing his chin on his hands. “Do explain why, because the way I see it, you asked for X amount of drugs and X amount of guns and ammo. Am I wrong?”

“You know what half of those drugs were code for, you ignorant shit.”

“Oh, no no no.” Yoongi chuckled, standing up, revolver in hand. “See, now, if you were implying what you think you are implying, and I truly hope you’re not, then you’ve worked with the wrong man.” He smirked, holding the gun up towards Yang.

“You see, if you read through the terms of our contract - Bangtan do not associate with anything involving trafficking women and children. I truly hope that isnt what you wanted.” Yoongi tilted his head, glaring at Yang. “Is it?”

Yang swallowed lightly, looking between his men, who all have their guns by their sides and their hands up. They know Min’s reputation. They know better than to fuck with them.

“Ah…” Yang sighed anxiously, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “You are right. I believe I was mistaken. It appears that all our cargo was in order. Isn’t that right, boys?” He glanced between his men, who all nod shakily. “Now that we have that misunderstanding out of the way, I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about, so I will take my leave now, Min.” He turns to leave, only to freeze when the revolver now presses against his temple.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast.” Yoongi chuckles, kicking Yang’s knees out from underneath him, forcing him to kneel. “I would’ve been willing to let you go, no questions asked about what fucked up shit you’re into,” he leans down now, whispering into his ear. “but then you laid hands on my receptionist.”

Yang’s eyes widen, struggling against Yoongi’s boot digging into his legs. “What?” he breathed out.

“Did you even read the contract, Yang?” Yoongi hissed now, pressing the gun harder against his head. “Now, you are more than welcome to come in here, ranting and raving about me and the shit I do, I really couldnt give a flying fuck.. but as soon as you touch my people and my men, now theres fucking hell to pay. Rule number fucking 3 my friend. Do NOT touch my men. Do you have anything to say to defend your pathetic ass?”

“I’m sorry,” Yang blubbers out, hands shaking. “I really didn’t mean it, Min! I-I-”

“Save it for hell, Yang.” He squeezes the trigger, letting the body fall to the floor.

“Come on,” you hissed, aggressively rubbing water over the sleeve of your blouse, earphones blaring music in your ears as Yoongi directed. You’ve been scrubbing for 5 minutes and sadly nothing is working for you. At this point, you haven’t even looked at your arm, now bruising and stained with small trails of your blood.

A figure steps into your line of sight, causing you to lift your head quickly and push the headphones off your head. “Oh, Master Min!” You gasp out, seeing his white shirt splattered with blood. “Did you need me to get your shirt booked in to the dry cleaner?” You start typing up the website to get the booking made when you feel his hand take your wrist.

“Does it hurt?” Yoongi asks quietly, looking down at you through his eyelashes, letting his fingertips run along the marks Yang left.

“O-oh.. um.. a little, but nothing I cant handle!” You smile sweetly at him as he shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t have to handle it at all.” He frowns, using a damp cloth to gently wipe away the trails of your blood before taking some paper towel and drying your arm off. “I do apologize, you didn’t sign up to deal with that shit. I should have been out here waiting for Yang’s arrival.”

“Master Min,” you smiled softly, letting him tend to your arm - you knew it made him feel better when he helped Bangtan with their wounds. “Please don’t stress, I knew what I signed up for for this job.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he delicately starts placing bright pink Hello Kitty band-aids over your scratch marks.

“Dont laugh.” He grumbles, patting the band-aids down so they stick. “Jimin insisted that we got these to make Taehyung laugh whenever he was hurt.” He lied, Jimin had snuck to you that Yoongi kept his Hello Kitty band-aids with him just in case any of the girls in the office - another word for just you and you alone - were hurt - he just never got to use them until now. But you’d never tell him that you knew. Instead, you just smile and let Yoongi tend to your wounds.

It may not be the best job in the world, but at least you know your bosses have your back.

#bts angst #bts fluff #bts ot7 x reader #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi mafia AU #BTS mafia AU #BTS AU #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x You #min yoongi

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wishful-thinking-is-dumb · 22 days ago

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Platonic Yandere John Wick

John Wick x Continental Employee Reader

It was a quiet Saturday morning at the Continental, it wasn’t very busy this time of year. Besides all of the shady hitman and crime lords that stayed here periodically. Well, it was only hitmen and crime lords that stayed here due to the hotel being a neutral zone. There were dire consequences to anyone who broke the code.

You somehow found yourself employed here after you got mixed up in a bad situation. You were good with computer, and the man at the front desk thought it would be a lovely idea for you to put your skills to use.

Your job on paper is the IT department, you are the whole department. You help Winston, the older man at the front desk, with any computer issues that he might stumble upon. You help with the Wifi, cable and anything to do with electronics.

But The Continental also offers a new service to its VIP members, a resident hacker. Guests can hire you do do some freelance work for them. You’ve done a couple of jobs, hacking into emails and encrypted hardware for hitmen.

It was stressful work, and the people who hired you have made sure that you won’t be a loose end. You haven’t spoken much since you found yourself in the Underworld, but at least you have free food and a room.

You are in the lounge, trying to figure out what’s wrong with one of the lamps, it wouldn’t turn on. You are pulled from your thoughts when Winston approaches you, you stand up from where you are sitting on the carpet.

He looks over all of the wires that you have pulled from the lamp, he frowns a little. But at least you promised him that you would clean up after you were done messing around with the lamp to see if it could be saved.

“No luck?” He asks, a polite smile on his face. You shake your head slightly, glancing down at the lamp laid on the floor. He sighs a little, seemingly disappointed that the lamp was unsalvageable.

“A shame, it was an antique.” He states as he watches me start to clean up, getting all the screws and wires out of the way. You don’t reply to his comment, and he doesn’t expect you to respond either. You don’t talk much.

“Don’t worry about cleaning up, I’ll get William to do that.” He says, that smile still on his face, it never quite reaches his eyes. William is one of the bartenders in the lounge, he usually is in charge of generic upkeep in the lounge when there aren’t any guests around.

You huff as you stop cleaning up your mess, standing up and facing Winston again.

“Do you need something?” You ask him quietly, wanting to get to the point. You aren’t one for small talk. Winston sighs in mild amusement, he finds your blunt demeanor endearing.

“I do need your assistance. One of the guests requires your services.” He says in his customer service voice. You nod a little as William approaches and starts to tidy up your mess, putting the broken lamp into a garbage bag.

“I’ll go get my computer..” You mumble, walking out of the lounge and into the front lobby.

“Where are they?” You ask Winston quietly, there are a couple of people hanging around in the lobby.

“Mr. Wick is in conference room 2 on the second floor.” Winston replies, handing you your computer from where he keeps it behind the front desk. You take the computer from him and nod.

You enter the elevator in silence, you press the button for the second floor and you wait. The air in the elevator is thick, you are anxious. You hope that you don’t get a target on your back by helping this man. There is always a risk.

You exit the elevator and step out into the hallway. To turn to the right, past a couple talking to each other and into Conference Room Two.

You close the door behind you, and at the end of the long table, is a man in a black suit. It’s John Wick, what could he possibly want from you.

He nods in greeting, seemingly thrown off by how young you are. You couldn’t be more than 19, how did you get mixed up in this line of work?

You give an awkward smile, and you sit to his left at the table. You open up your computer and you turn it on. You are unnerved by the way he is looking at you.

“What do you need done?” You ask him quietly, booting up some of your hacking softwares. You glance over at him before you look back at the computer screen.

“I need you to trace this frequency.” He says, sliding you a USB drive. This will be a little difficult, tracing a frequency from an audio clip? You could be here for a while. You take the drive and you connect it to the computer, you pull the audio clip and drop it into one of your softwares.

He watches as you type away on the computer and as you compare frequencies from all over the globe.

It takes you about half an hour to tell him the rough location of the frequencies origin.

“Munich, Germany.” You mumble, turning the computer screen to him. He hums, and he hands you a large golden coin. The currency of the underworld.

“Don’t you think you’re a little young to be in this line of work?” He asks quietly, his accent Russian-American. He tilts his head a little towards you, waiting for your answer.

You shrug, looking away from him and turning the computer screen back towards you. He frowns a little at your non answer.

“I’ll talk to Winston about letting you go, you’re to young for this.” He says firmly, standing up from his chair. You close the computer and turn it off.

“I’ll be back in a couple of days, I’ll discuss this with Winston before I leave.” He pats you on the shoulder as he passes you, he leaves the conference room and closes the door behind him.

#yandere oneshot #asks open #tw: kidnapping #platonic #platonic yandere #yandere comfort #send asks #platonic john wick #send me asks #yandere john wick #hacker reader #yandere platonic john wick #john wick x reader #platonic yandere john wick

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fuzzyclink · 4 months ago

Text

Rules and Regulations

A self indulgent one-shot Ceo!Au fic to celebrate the launch of Keir and Cirrus's second chapters tomorrow!

Tags: Cirrus/Reader, degradation, unethical office relationship, abuse of power, power dynamics, spanking, glove kink, pain and bruising, bad BDSM etiquette, gender neutral reader, reader body not described.

Link to AO3 version

You had been so desperate to find a job in your new city that you hadn’t been especially picky. You’d moved here as a last option, relocating because of the world-renowned hospitals in this area. There was an experimental study opening soon that focused on your life-threatening condition, and you knew that it might be your only option. Certainly, the bemused expression of the so-called “experts” in your hometown had discouraged you from staying. Your condition didn't even have a WebMD page. So it hadn’t mattered to you much at the time that all your funds went into renting a moving truck, paying the deposit on an apartment, and boxing up all your belongings. You had arrived, penniless, and sought jobs as quickly as possible - applying to everything and anything that you could convince a recruiter you’d be good at. You just needed some income while you waited to hear back about whether you were eligible for the medical trial.

Applying to Crescent Consulting had been surprisingly easy. You’d uploaded your resume online, answered a few questions that MAYBE were some kind of personality test (the question “What does the full moon mean to you?” had definitely seemed a little strange at the time), and were offered an interview a few days later.

You pressed down your nerves as you approached the company. You were dressed in your least-wrinkled interview clothes, pulled out of a cardboard box the night before. There hadn’t been time to unpack everything. The exterior of the building was grand. Silvery glass extended high above you, the blue sky reflecting mirror-like off of the eighty floors of windows. The interior matched the prestigious exterior. All around you were gleaming stone floors, elevators that smelled like new carpet, well-groomed and refined staff, and chandeliers that likely cost as much as your apartment.

Crescent Consulting was on the third and fourth floors of the building. You speak to a receptionist near the entrance and she ushers you into a small, private office to the left of the door. You smile politely as the hiring manager seated inside looks over your resume, asking about your experience, your career goals, and previous successes and difficulties. Pretty standard stuff. The pay and benefits seem good too. You try to recall the information you’d read about the company, peering down at the job description you’d printed out and brought with you.

“From what you’ve said, I think this company would be a good fit for me,” you say, trying to infuse your words with an air of confidence you didn’t really feel. “. . . but the job listing was a little sparse on details. Would you mind going over exactly what this position would entail?”

The routine atmosphere of the interview dissipates. The interviewer grows far more serious, fixing you with a stern look over the rim of their tortoiseshell glasses.

“This position is essential to the success of our company. Crescent Consulting is directed by Mr. Cirrus. As our CEO, he leads us, guides us, and makes decisions that keep us at the forefront of consulting in this city. He’s an exceptionally talented man.” She regards you with her steely gaze as if you would dare challenge her statement. You nod at her meekly.

She shifts in her seat. “But he’s also exceptionally busy. Too much of his time right now is taken up by scheduling things, answering emails, filing documents…we’ve all tried to help where we can, but eventually, it became clear that it was time we hired someone to do it full-time. So, that’s where you come in. The job position is to work as his assistant. He has exacting tastes, and expects the finest work.”

You can practically see the job opening slipping away right before your eyes. The words spring from your lips.

“I assure you, I am someone who is deliberate, detailed, and focused. Crescent Consulting is my top choice and it would be an honour to assist Mr. Cirrus as he continues to lead such amazing work.”

She nods at that, relenting a little. “We’ll hire you for a probationary period. Let’s see how you do after a week on the job. If your work is satisfactory - and Cirrus takes a liking to you, we’ll offer you a full contract.”

After that, the first week goes by in a blur. You’d seen Cirrus’s emails and calendar plenty of times, but hadn’t even met him face to face. They gave you a cubicle in the corner of one of the floors and you toil away diligently, working your way down a seemingly endless list of tasks. The hiring manager was right - there was plenty to do. You spent your time reading the employee handbook, completing new employee training, learning about the different clients, trying to remember which employee names and titles, and archiving documents that hadn’t been looked at in years. You’ve just started working on a summary of consulting projects completed in 2017 when you feel a presence just over your shoulder.

You jump in your chair as you spin around looking up to see a man looming over you. He’s tall and lanky, even taller from your current position. Long white hair slinks down over his shoulders, stopping near the waist of his suit. His accessories stand out against his dark clothes - a gold metal snake that encircles his finger, two chain bracelets that glimmer from beneath the cuffs of his sleeves, and thin hanging earrings. A tailored waistcoat highlights the way his broad torso narrows at the waist. The man’s arm rests casually against the wall of your cubicle, a thin pen between his fingers. He's undoubtedly handsome, imposingly so. You finish taking him in and meet his gaze, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Hurriedly, you introduce yourself. “I'm very sorry, I didn't notice you there! I’m a new hire, I’ve only been working here for week, I don't believe we've met?”

Surely, you'd be able to remember someone who looks like THAT.

“I thought it was about time I came to meet you,” he says politely, watching you through nearly translucent lashes. “You've already begun to prove yourself useful to me.”

“Oh, are you… Cirrus? I'm really thankful for this opportunity, sir, the company seems great and everyone has gone out of their way to be helpful…” flustered, you’re immediately thrown off your game. So this is the man you work for. You had to admit, you'd assumed that Cirrus was some older, stodgy executive- someone thoroughly unattractive. It was shocking to be confronted unexpectedly with someone so… well, different!

“I'm glad to hear it. It's important that Crescent Consulting cultivates a welcoming environment towards newcomers.” He spins the pen between his fingers a little, playing with the clip on it. “How are you finding the work so far?”

“It's been easy enough,. It seems like it's just a matter of checking over everything carefully and making sure that -”

His pen falls from his hand with a clink, sharp and startling against the waxed tile floor.

You bend in your chair, leaning to pick it up without a delay. You hand it to him, reaching up. It's hard to miss the way that his eyes flick from the pen in your hand to your face, but he takes it without comment.

“Please, reach out if you have any questions. And ask the hiring manager you met with earlier for the full employment contract. You're a good fit. I look forward to our work together.”

And just like that, you're officially hired. ------

The next Monday, you're at your desk for only a few moments before his shadow darkens your screen. Cirrus, the same outfit as you saw before - dark and stately in the fluorescent-lit office. His placid smile is at odds with the weight of his presence, a heavy, frozen thing that spills out through the weight of his shoulders and the cant of his head. It urges you to bow to him. Or grovel, your mind unhelpfully supplies. You end up half jumping out of your chair before settling back into it and dipping your head in acknowledgement. Embarrassing.

"I emailed you a list of tasks on Sunday for you to begin this week. We're entering into our busiest quarter of the year, so I'll be depending on your work. As always, please reach out to me if you have any questions."

"I've already skimmed through it to familiarise myself with the tasks before I arrived today." You smile up at him a little. There's no need for him to worry about your accountability. You want to do well. Especially for him.

…But only because he’s your boss, of course.

He responds with a gentle nod towards you. "Good. Eager to get started, hmm?"

“I'll send you an update on what I've accomplished by the end of the day. Let me know if there's anything else I can do to meet your needs, sir."

His hand falls onto your shoulder for only a moment, fixing you into your chair. His golden eyes dart towards yours, serious. “Let’s start with the list for now. Don’t want to exhaust you before the end of the second week.”

With that, he leaves, returning to his office. The firm press of his hand lingers on your shoulder. You raise your own hand to it, fingers ghosting over the sensation. Would meeting his needs really be exhausting? You’re determined to dispel any doubt he may hold about your capabilities.

As you adapt to your job, your list of duties starts to expand. The hiring manager wasn't kidding. Cirrus seems to be particular about everything. He cares about the scent of the soap in his bathroom (lavender), the way he takes his tea (no sugar, one and a half creamers), and the height of the window blinds in his office before he comes in each morning (lowered to the height of your knees, raised to shoulder level after lunch). Rather than resenting the numerous rules, you find joy in the structure they give your day.

And he certainly is gracious. He’s kind to you, thanking you for the tasks you complete. Polite, yet reserved. Always controlled and professional. His occasional praise makes you glow a little. It's proof that he notices and cares about the effort you put into your work. It's a little addictive. It drives you to be increasingly exacting, hoping to impress him. You find yourself wondering whether there’s something hidden behind that polished facade of his. He reminds you of a Greek statue. Beautiful, unyielding, and with a smile that never quite reaches his eyes.

You find yourself staying late at the office recently, struggling to get everything done during the day. Eight hours doesn’t seem like a lot of time when it’s stretched over so many tasks. But Cirrus stays late too. Your coworkers file out of the office one by one until it’s just you and him in the building. The light shining through the frosted glass of his office door there to keep you company. You remember the first time you stayed late. You had sat in your mesh desk chair, bones stiff and weary from their long hours of inactivity. The sound of his office door opening had been a welcomed interruption. Cirrus wore his coat, warm wool fitted closely to his body, and was in the process of pulling on leather gloves. He hesitated on his path out the door, clearly surprised to see you.

“I hadn’t realised you were still here,” he had said, coming around to your desk.

“Oh, I’ll be heading home soon, sir. Just finished summarising the documents I received this afternoon so you can look them over tomorrow before your morning meetings.”

“Such a devoted employee.”

His smooth, rich voice sent shivers down your spine. You laughed it off.

“It’s no trouble to me, sir, I like to be kept busy.”

“You’re not keeping anyone waiting at home…?” Sharp eyes had betrayed his interest in your response.

“I’ve just moved to the city, so no - living on my own for now. I can stay as late as I need to. Haven’t really had the time to try and meet anyone.”

“That’s a shame. We’ll just need to make the work here worth your while then, hmm?”

You nodded at him, and he had left, sliding the gloves the rest of the way on his hands.

His questions made you wonder if he cared about your dating life. That was the first personal question he’d asked of you. You’d certainly wondered about his - but no wedding band was seen on his hand, and no family pictures in his office. You kept your ears and eyes open for information after that night. You would ask a coworker but given the speed of the office rumour mill, you were sure he’d learn about your prying questions. After days pass without clues, you doubt it. After all, he spends the most time with you out of anyone. With the long hours he keeps, he’d struggle to find the time to meet a partner, just as you have. You can practically imagine his response. I’m married to my work, he’d say. That is, if he wasn’t offended by your impudence.

As the month goes on, you shadow Cirrus more and more during his daily tasks. He started by requesting that you take the minutes for his meetings with clients. It's simple enough and you enjoy getting a better idea of the actual objectives of the company. Plus, during quiet moments, when he or the client refer to documents about their work together, you get the chance to really look at him. The slender line of his neck. The way his muscled back can be seen beneath the expensive fabric of his shirt, shifting as he leans over the table to read. The soft pink of his lips, through which you can see pointed canines flash as he speaks. You see why everyone at Crescent Consulting has such a reverence for him. It’s electrifying to be swept up in the energy and admiration that surrounds him. He's impeccably focused on his tasks and clients are thrilled with the work he does for them. Good thing that you’re kept busy. Spending so much time near him is becoming increasingly distracting.

You're just coming out of one of these meetings, a little breathless. The client had spoken exceptionally quickly, stuttering and prone to long tangents that left your head spinning. You’d done your best to take notes, but you’d definitely have to edit them later on in the afternoon. At times you'd just slumped over the table, desperately listening and typing as best you could as the conversation ricocheted between the two of them.

“My office, please,” Cirrus requests, as controlled and peaceful as ever. Immediately, your pulse jumps, anxiety spreading through your body. Cirrus hardly ever asks to speak with you privately - he’d email you, or casually drop by your desk to discuss business. Even confidential matters about his work were discussed between the two of you during your meeting together every morning, not off the cuff.

You step inside after him, pulling the door shut. His office is a place you’ve grown familiar with, though never comfortable in. It was always too quiet. The decor is utilitarian and minimal. One side is entirely windows, partially covered with blinds. A coat rack near his door has a few discarded wire hangers from dry cleaning. There are etched glass awards on his mostly barren bookshelves. A whiteboard is fixed to the wall with a scribbled timeline on it. Cirrus’s desk in the middle of the room, empty except for a few folders and a chair across from it. You choose to hover awkwardly in the doorway. It feels safer, like you could escape if you needed to.

He takes a seat behind his desk, the expansive piece of dark wood now separating the two of you.

Cirrus regards you coolly as you start to pick at your fingers.

“I've been quite happy with your work up to this point, don't be mistaken. However, as my assistant, your conduct and decorum reflect directly upon me.” He steeples his fingers in front of him. “Clients notice if you have poor posture. Clients notice if you wander ahead of me in the hallway or speak out of turn. Clients notice-” his gaze falls to your fingers, picking nervously at the edge of a nail, “-when you fidget”. Your hands still immediately.

You knew that he was aware of you. But you hadn't realised that he paid such close attention to the behaviours you displayed. Had you really acted so unreasonably? Had maybe a client confided in him, or expressed their displeasure with you? Your heart beats wildly in your chest.

“I'm sorry sir, I haven't been on my best behaviour as of late. I'll work on improving my posture and habits in the office. I hope it hasn't negatively impacted your work…”

A smile streaks across his face. Sharp, furtive, misplaced, and gone as you peer at him nervously.

“Please see to it that you do,” he replies. There's a lightness to him, an excitement that pulls at the edges of his expression. Something dangerous. “That’ll be all.”

Your hands, sweaty with nerves, pull open his door and you exit quickly. It's the first time you've really been reprimanded by him. How could you have let yourself grow complacent? Still, it seemed unfair. You drop down at your desk and pout a little, staring unseeingly at the backdrop of dolphins on your computer monitor. You already do so much for him and follow all his silly little rules, and now he’s getting on your case about fidgeting? What is this, finishing school? Your thoughts swirl as the day goes by. It was embarrassing to be called out on your behaviour. But moreover, it was embarrassing that you had become increasingly reliant on him and his praise. You hadn't fully realised it up until he withdrew it this afternoon. You'd become dependent on him too quickly. He’s just your boss. Nothing more beyond that. And why did his expressions in that conversation seem so… odd? It was unsettling.

After that conversation between the two of you, Cirrus’s expectations skyrocket. Every day there are new rules. New subcategories that emails need to be sorted into, preferences on the alert sound for his calendar notifications, the type of lightbulb for his desk lamp, the way you structure your notes for him. It feels endless. And at times, when he gives you feedback - always in that same controlled and polite tone - you catch a glimpse of that same fleeting expression you had seen earlier. You're diligent, dutifully noting down each preference as they come. You walk two paces behind him in the halls. You mind your tone, your facial expressions. You sit at meetings rigidly, still and quiet unless addressed. Your frustrations at his restrictions, once something small and easily cast aside, grows by the day. The amount of care that you direct towards your work is immense. Cirrus is polite to you. Often kind. But the structure from the rules that once felt supportive now feels like a tangled net, restricting your every move. You feel taken for granted. The majority of his requirements are silly preferences that you're sure have no influence on his (or the company’s) success.

When he interacts with others in the office, however, things seem easy between them. They fawn adoringly at whatever he says, and he replies to them - always calm and kind. You find yourself a little disgusted with their eagerness. And it's quite simple for them, isn't it? They do their basic job responsibilities and he praises them, values them. That same response from him requires such an extreme amount of effort from you. You scoff to yourself. They might not admire him as much if they ALSO had just gotten an email that read: “In the future, please only order Oleander Co.’s organic fair trade oat milk creamer in low fat. I prefer it over the brand you currently purchase.”

You are capable of the work he asks you to do. But your sense of justice rankles at it. It's not fair that he asks such an astronomically higher level of work from you. At times you wonder if he delights in messing with you. It seems inevitable that one day you’ll forget one of his many rules. You're not sure exactly what makes you decide to do it. The last sliver of your pride, perhaps.

You order a different type of soap for his bathroom. Your courage wavers a little when you go to order, so you decide on lilac as a replacement. Suitably similar to lavender if you need to defend yourself. It's silly how nerve-wracking it is. You've never directly gone against anything he’s asked you to do. And it’s just soap, after all. You doubt he’ll even notice.

—---

You place the soap in his bathroom that next Monday after it's been delivered. You look at it, where you’ve set the bottle neatly by the sink, evenly spaced from the wall. You spin the label to face away from you before you leave. Cirrus and you have your morning meeting, as usual. He’s just the same as ever and you find yourself both relieved and disappointed. You’d expected some kind of reaction from him… some reprimand maybe, or a reminder. Something to show you again that he sees you and your work. Something to break the pattern that you’re in with him. But the meeting ends quickly and everything remains as it did before.

You’re seated at your desk, about to head to lunch, when Cirrus stops by.

“A word, please. Now. Follow me.”

He’s very still. Nothing about his face was kind or gentle.. A coworker at the neighbouring desk glances up at you, startled, before they catch themselves and pretend to be engrossed in their salad.

You stand abruptly, silently, fingers fumbling with the notepad on your desk for a moment before you decide to leave it.

You follow him to his office. Two steps behind him, of course, posture, impeccable. Your hands, forbidden from fidgeting, are held stiffly at your sides.

He shuts the door firmly behind you. The click of the lock is grimly final. The bottle of soap is on his desk. You exhale, shakily.

Cirrus leans back against his desk, the bottle next to him. His arms are crossed. You’re not truly afraid until you see his expression. His eyes hold a wildness to them, intense and sharp. The mouth, normally in a polite smile, is stretched wider, sardonic. Your unease grows when you see there's even a light flush across his cheeks. His finger taps rhythmically where it rests along the edge of the desk. His entire appearance has an electricity to it that arcs off of him in waves.

“Explain this to me.”

Your fear is tempered by the frustration at your mistreatment. “My apologies, sir, I seem to have made a mistake. There’s a lot of work I’m doing currently, I must have simply selected the wrong one.” Your voice is deliberately polite but you’re unable to hide your irritation.

His wicked smile grows. “You’ve never ordered the wrong one before.”

“Yes, well, I know others make mistakes here, too. I don’t see any of them called into your office over something like this, I mean, it’s, it’s - I do my best, sir, I apologise if it’s just not enough for you.” Your cheeks are hot from the defiance burning within you.

The tapping of his finger ceases.

“I'm quite certain it wasn't a mistake. No. Not from you, my star employee. Always obedient. Always careful. Attuned to my preferences, my rules for you. When I restricted your decorum in meetings, I wondered if I had gone too far. If maybe - you’d recoil. Hmm.. instead, you grew more pliable, eager to please. Desperate for my praise. Willing to be moulded by me. You question me, why I ask more of you than the other staff here. Well, my star. It’s because you enjoy it. And,” he draws closer to you, less than an arm’s length away, “because I can.”

All the blood in your body seems to leave you and you sag, leaning against the wall. Suddenly, everything becomes clear to you. The constant increasing requests. The minute details he requires you to remember. His attention to your posture, your every mannerism. Each of them feed into his power over you. And the part that makes your heart pound and ears ring is that he's completely correct. You crave it.

He takes in your shocked expression with something akin to glee.

"So eager for me. And now, acting out. Silly little ploy to try and catch my interest. You've already had it. Had it from the moment I met you, when you leaned down and handed me that pen. I wanted to see if you would. If you'd bend for me, right from the start. Don't I give you enough of my attention? Or would you like something more concrete - a reminder you're mine?"

It feels almost impossible to speak but you try, urging your breath back into your struggling lungs.

"Please, sir, I - I…" A reminder that you're his. You are his. The way you speak, the way you walk, every hour of every day, all in service to him. Intoxicating to learn that he's orchestrated it this way. Cirrus has seen you to your very core and it is paralysing.

He raises his hand to your throat, fingers soft, and pins you against the wall. "Don't worry, my star. I'll give you what you desire. Even if words have failed you."

His touch is nothing more than gentle pressure at the base of your neck, but the sensation makes you release a choked gasp.

"Something to remind you, hmm? I'll give you a gift then. Pretty bruises that you can take home. "

Cirrus's hand is tighter around your neck now. Your pulse hammers against his grip. All you can do is nod, the edge of his thumb sharp against your jaw. He releases you, taking a step backwards. His cunning eyes scan the room.

"Place your hands here."

He gestures to the whiteboard and you stumble after him, legs trembling. You place your hands flat on the surface, just below shoulder height, glancing at him questioningly. He traces around your fingers with a marker, outlining each hand in red. It reminded you a little of grade school art projects, and the absurdity of the situation makes your face flush. What if this was all some kind of cruel joke, just to see how much you'd agree to?

His voice breathes low in your ear. "It's in your best interest if you don't smudge any of those lines. Do so and you'll leave with more than just bruises."

Immediately, the levity drains out of you. "I'll try my best, sir."

His hand smooths down the plane of your back. "You always do."

Behind you, you hear him walk over to the coat rack by the door. You twist, your hands fixed in place, and watch as he pulls on his fine black gloves. The leather shines softly in the light of his office.

"Please attempt to be quiet. You know how much the office ladies love to gossip."

You grit your teeth and turn, facing the board once again. Watching him was too much. You close your eyes and exhale a long, shuddering breath.

He brings his hand down swiftly, your clothes and the gloves muffling the sound where he strikes your behind. It's ferociously hard. The force of the impact rocks you forward on your toes and your eyes fly open, checking the lines around your fingers anxiously. A dull ache answers the sting that spreads through you. Your desire spreads too, burning. You'd known he was strong, assumed it from the way he fills out his impeccably tailored dress shirts, but the power behind the slap surprises you. Your breath hisses through your teeth.

A second strike comes, placed right where your butt meets your thigh. It's harder than the last. It forces a gasping yelp out of you, barely stifled through your gritted teeth. Your hands curl just the slightest bit on the board. Your breath comes faster now, panicked. Legs twist where they stand, shying away from him, unable to fully move with your hands pinned.

"Excellent. You're doing well."

He has said that to you so many times before. When you’ve finished your work early, when you've taken minutes for meetings, when you've reminded him of some small important detail. You'll never hear it the same again.

Cirrus waits to deliver the third strike and you try to anticipate it, flinching at every small sound he makes from behind you. He laughs at that, watching you closely.

"Patience."

When he hits you, it spreads across your skin, burning where it lands. You bow forwards, leaning away desperately. The sensation after the strike is just as bad - a second wave of pain that makes sweat prickle at your forehead and brings tears springing to your eyes.

"In my haste, I forgot myself," he muses, stilling behind you. "How can I see when I've fulfilled my promise?"

He slides your clothes off your waist, the air of his office cool on your skin. They bunch tightly around your thighs. You hunch forwards between your arms, humiliated. You're sure that your behind is just as flushed as your face. One gloved hand traces over the reddened skin, the leather like a soothing balm.

The next strike is more targeted, hitting right where your skin is the reddest. The sweat on your hands causes them to slip just the slightest bit on the board and you rock back towards him, trying to lift the weight off your unreliable arms. The outlines remain complete for now. You throb, each heartbeat bringing with it another crashing wave of pain.

"Fuck."

"You know better than to curse around me. Haven't I made my expectations for your etiquette clear?"

He smooths one hand over you, just below the small of your back. Your skin sings at his touch. You feel the weight of him follow, the hard plane of his body pressed up against you. His hands grip your hips. One slides up the front of your chest, pausing for a moment at your throat. It continues, gloved fingers finding their way into your mouth. The bitter taste of leather follows. His other hand grips your hip tightly. He presses down on your tongue, making you gag. Your saliva slicks the material. Cirrus's breath is hot against your ear.

"I'll help you behave yourself."

He withdraws his fingers from your mouth, smearing the wetness across your face. When he moves to the side, you catch the first glimpse of him since you placed your hands on the board. His flushed cheeks are the only sign of his exertion. Not a hair is out of place. You watch through teary eyes as he bites the tip of his gloved hand, pulling the leather from his skin. The glint of his sharp teeth shine from between pink lips. Glove off, he presses his fingers cruelly into your cheeks, prying your lips open once again. His removed glove is pressed between your teeth, silencing you. The material is thick, forces your jaw to spread.

He hits you again before you're really ready, ungloved hand anchored on your hip. The force of the blow shoves you forwards while Cirrus's nails dig into your hip bone, leaving deep grooves. A muffled sob breaks free. Your hand slides down the board, erasing the lines surrounding it. You stumble forward, gasping. His hand creeps under your bent waist, supporting your weight.

Cirrus lays into you without any reservations. He spanks you, hand crashing down again and again. You thrash, hands clutching desperately at his supporting arm where it lays steel-like against your stomach. Twisting, flailing, as he brings you back in line. Drool spills down out of your mouth from around the fingers of the glove. He kicks your legs apart when they clench together before beginning again. The blow blend together. You are ablaze. Writhing in his arms. Needy with desire and aching all over. Your eyes are a mess of tears and you gasp desperately around the glove, nose running. Both of you breathing hard, he takes a moment to examine you before pulling the glove out of your mouth.

"I think you'll be pleased, my star. Once you've come back to yourself. Proof of my ownership pressed into your skin. You won't be able to sit without remembering whom you belong to."

Every part of you throbs. Pain, pleasure, and obedience all searing through your veins in equal measure. You're limp, resting nearly your full weight against him.. You cry softly, stuffy and worn out.

"Come here," he tells you, as he hefts you towards the chair behind his desk. As if you'd have the strength to deny him. He sits and reclines the chair fully, laying back. He holds you against his chest. A moment for you to calm down. You press your damp face into the safety of his shirt while his arms rest softly around your shoulders.

"You shine in your obedience to me."

His voice is quiet against your hair. You lay there, boneless, listening to the gentle thump of his heart. Feeling the solid ridge of the button of his vest imprint itself on your cheek. Gradually, you come back to yourself. Breathing in his scent as he continues to hold you. You test your limbs, achingly shifting them. Wipe your eyes softly against the back of your hand. A sharp cry springs from your mouth as your raw skin scrapes against the material of his pants. If the way you feel is any indication, you’re probably covered in speckled bruises, soon to shift into blooms of blue and purple. You flinch as you feel a scarlet bead of blood inch down your inner thigh. He shushes you, hand coming up to card through your hair.

“Does this mean things have changed between us?” Your plaintive question hangs in the air.

Cirrus’s hand stills. “It doesn’t have to. Continue to serve me. I won't mark you where others will see.”

You nod at that, accepting it without complaint. He was to remain your boss. At least for now, you find yourself thinking. You long for something more. And you suspect he might feel the same, though he’s reluctant to admit it. His rules, so many designed to constrain and rankle. The attention he pays to you. His satisfaction from putting you in your place. Those fleeting moments of tenderness. Nothing about it was casual. Perhaps, with time - and enough tactical disobedience - his commitment to professionalism will crumble. It’s a challenge. Rules and regulations then. A path to something more.

#obscura fic #cirrus x mc #cirrus obscura #obscura vn #cirrus #Ceo!au #cirrus x reader #cirrus x vesper #obscura visual novel #obscura #obscura cirrus #let me know ur thoughts! and i hope you all enjoy chapter 2<3 #giving jumin han energy #jaehee I'm sorry

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pastelspoon31 · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 1: Bitter Sweetness ♡ (Contract Killer!Soap x Baker!Reader) - NSFW

tw: age gap (Reader being 20, Soap being 31), manipulation, dacryphilia, noncon to dubcon, dead dove!!, big pp in small cunny :(

A/N: Wrote this a loooooooong time ago. Started off pretty cute until I let my period hormones finish the rest of the fic, sigh… Rip reader’s cunny.. AGAIN. (PS: I’m truly sorry for botching the Scottish slangs used.)

It wasn't unusual for people to not understand John 'Soap' MacTavish's Scottish slang. It also wasn't unusual for people to not even try and understand the Scottish lad. Unless it was crucial info to the mission on hand, most jokes and smartass remarks from Soap wasn't really worth repeating after the awkward silence or straight up laughter from his teammates.

He appreciated his team, he really does. There are times his jokes were reciprocated well, especially with his close friend- Ghost, but it's not often so he tries not to mind.

Well, until today at least.

Your soft giggles and laughs were like music to Soap's ears as you looked up to the man through your eyelashes. The bread on the counter was long forgotten as he watched you take humour to his passing joke.

"Sorry- I really do love your accent! It's scottish, right?" You tilted your head in a manner so cute, Soap's brain momentarily shut off.

"Yeah.." He answered slowly, almost shyly as he tried not to get distracted by how pretty you looked. "I'm Johnny,"

"I'm (Y/N)! I haven't seen you here at our bakery for a long while!" Your voice was cheerful and warm as you introduced yourself.

"Aye, been on a.. trip.." Soap mumbled, "Just got back this mornin’..”

"That's wonderful! Is there anything specific that you'd like to add on, Mr. Johnny? We recently hired a sandwich maker, so if you'd like-" You rambled a little about the menu and Soap nodded along, watching you carefully with a small smile.

"D'ye have any of yer pies?"

Your eyes twinkled at his question, "We sure do! We've got the classic chicken pot pie and vegetable pies for the savoury pies, aaaand we've got a blueberry pie, apple pie and lemon meringue pie for the sweet pies today!"

"I'll take a chicken pot pie, and a slice of yer blueberry pie." Soap watched your fingers press the buttons on the cash register before turning around to get the pastries.

He felt a little giddy and warm as he waited for his food, watching you interact with a customer on the other side.

"For here or to go, Mr. Johnny?" You asked as you turned back to him with the order and the bread he picked out earlierin a paper bag.

"To go, lassie."

"Here's your food then, sir." You said with a wide smile as Soap handed you the cash. You took the $100 bill and gave back his $83 dollar change. "Have a good day!"

He returned your smile, "Keep the change, lassie."

"W-What? It's more than 80 dollars! This is too much!"

"Aye, but ye are too sweet for yer own good, love. Ye deserve it." Soap winked, walking towards the exit of the shop as he watched you sputter out thanks and goodbyes.

♡ ______ ♡

"Mr. Johnny! You're back!" You put down the tray of cookies onto the table next to the cash register, quickly walking over to the scottish man who stood at the entrance. "Haven't seen you in a few days! Where were you?"

“S’just Johnny fer ye, lassie,” He smiled warmly as he walked closer to meet you, "Had some work."

"You must be very busy with work, huh?" Your smile as sweet as ever as you looked up at him.

"Aye."

"Well, good thing I have something new just for you!" You pulled him towards the freshly baked cookies on the counter. "Are you a fan of cookies?"

"Oh? Are ye offering, lass?" Soap teased.

You nodded in excitement, "Yep! You're the first one to try the new recipes out! You wanna try one?" You handed him the warm heart shaped cookie.

Soap looked at you before looking back down at the cookie. He broke a piece off and popped it into his mouth. The buttery dough and sugar melted in his mouth, with the slight chocolate flavour from the chips.

Your much shorter stature made it hard to see you in the line of the large man, but that didn't stop you from standing on your toes and trying to look at his expression.

"How is it? Was it too dry? I saw the recipe on instagram a couple days ago and tweaked it a bit, I hope I didn't mess it up!-"

"It's delicious, lass."

You stopped and looked at his smiling Soap. "Really?"

"Mhm." Soap hummed and ate another piece.

You laughed in joy, clapping your hands together, "I'm glad! I'll let you take the rest of the batch home!"

"Ah- no need. Keep them, lass."

You looked at Soap with a questioning look, "Why? They're yours! It's a gift!"

Soap shook his head, "I'll take a couple, but the rest should go to yer customers."

"Well, I kinda made them for you specifically, so.." You blushed. "It'd make me happy if you could take all of it, Johnny."

"Aren't ye too young to be giving a lad like me a gift, lassie?"

"I'm twenty this year," Your lips formed a small pout, "I'm not a child."

"Still younger than me, aye?"

"...How old are you?"

"Thirty-one."

"So what's eleven years?-"

"A big gap." He curtly replied with a teasing smile.

You stared at Soap for a moment before you sighed, "Please? I made them for you.." You handed him the cookies in a box, neatly tied into a bow now. You don't seem to be hiding your advances either with how persistent you were.

What a naive young woman.

"Fine, if it's yer wish, lassie. But I will pay."

"It's a gift, Johnny. Free of charge."

"Nae, I'll pay, lassie."

You pouted again.

Soap sighed and reached out to you. Your breath hitched when his rough and calloused hand cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing circles into the soft flesh.

"It's one dollar," You feigned annoyance.

"Is it really?"

A defiant nod was his only reply, "It's only a dollar."

"Well, then," Soap's fingers tilted your chin up, making you meet his gaze. "That's a steal, isnae?"

"Ye take tips, lassie?" His thumb gently traced your lips as he watched your eyelids flutter lightly at his touch.

"Maybe.." Your voice barely above a whisper.

"Then, this is my tip, aye?" Soap leaned down and captured your lips into a gentle kiss.

Your eyes fluttered close as you felt his lips on yours, soft and chaste. The scent of the bakery around you and the taste of the man before you was overwhelmingly sweet.

When he pulled away, you could only stare at him.

"Yer too pretty for yer own good, bonnie," He smirked, squeezing your cheeks playfully. "Yer shouldn't be giving kisses to strangers."

You blushed hard, feeling the heat from your ears, cheeks and neck.

"I really like the way you speak… And the way you treat me," You muttered shyly. "And you're not a stranger,"

"Am I not?" Soap raised a brow, "We barely know each other, lassie. For all ye know, I could've been a serial killer."

"You wouldn't." You replied immediately. "You're not a bad person... I think," Your lips quirked into a smirk, "You're a softie."

"Oh, ye think so?"

"Mmhm. You're not mean to the staff, and you always give nice compliments,"

"Do I now?" He tilted his head with a smirk, "And how did ye come to that conclusion?"

"I’m secretly super smart," You smiled mischievously.

"Yer a sneaky little lassie," Soap pinched your cheek.

"You have to come back here everyday now, by the way," You puffed your cheeks, "It's not free to kiss the owner's daughter,"

Soap snorted, "Aye, I'll have to come back here every day, then. What a pain."

You giggled and pushed the box of cookies into his arms.

♡ ______ ♡

It's pretty much common sense to get to know someone before dating them but you just can't help it can you?

"Shite! I've got a fuckin' date, tonight!" Soap cursed as he swung the metal bat one last time into the captive's head, knocking them dead before inspecting the blood splatter on his shirt.

It's good to get to know someone in case they're a serial killer.. Like John 'Soap' McTavish.

Well, contract killer would be a more appropriate term. Assassin even, if you're into technicalities.

"Which poor girl did you force into a date with you?" Ghost snickered as he lazily flipped his dagger as he watched the Scottish man tried to clean his shirt; only to smear the blood more.

"I didnae force anyone! I've been talking to the baker's daughter. She asked me out!"

Ghost scoffed, "The young one? Barely out of school? What is she, 16?"

"She's twenty," Soap glared.

"Jesus Christ," Ghost rolled his eyes, "That's still a kid."

"Fuck off, ye git." Soap muttered before looking for a spare shirt to change into.

Ghost tossed him the packet of wet wipes, "Don't worry, I won't tell Price you're taking advantage of a poor girl."

"I'm not fucking taking advantage of her!"

"You're 11 years older than her, mate." Ghost patted his shoulder and left the warehouse.

Soap grumbled a string of curses and finished cleaning himself up.

♡______ ♡

"Tomato soup?" The way you tilted your head was still as cute as the first time he saw you.

"Aye. The bastard tipped it all over my favourite shirt." Soap said, leaning against the counter.

"Aww," You pouted, "And you didn't get his number? At least make him pay for dry cleaning?"

"Nae, I didnae." Soap's lips twitched upwards, "Didn't get a chance to ask."

"Here lemme look," Your innocent eyes flickered to his shirt, a little blood stained where the button down met the fabric of his pants. You didn't seem to mind as you looked him up and down.

Soap chuckled, "Are ye checking me out, bonnie?"

You blushed and giggled softly.

"M’looking at your shirt, silly! You got some on your pants too.." You lightly scratched at the fabric. "Must've been some thick tomato soup! If I didn't know any better i'd have guessed that it was blood.." You teased.

Soap smirked, "Yer a curious little kitten, aren't ye?"

"Maybe~”

Soap leaned forward and gently grasped your chin, his thumb rubbing over the plump skin of your lips. If only you knewwhat his hands were capable of doing.

What the stains really were...

Would you still have that bright, curious glint in your eyes?

"You're staring, Johnny~"

Soap was shaken out of his thoughts. He was so caught up with his thoughts he didn't realise that he had been staring at your face, his eyes tracing the features that were becoming oh so familiar.

"Yer a beauty, lass." He whispered, voice low and almost gruff.

"You should take a picture, it'll last longer," You joked.

Soap shook his head, "Where would the fun be in that, lassie?"

"Well," You wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him, burying your face into his chest. "You could also let me stay the night?" Your voice was shy and muffled.

Soap smiled, "Aye, I'd love to have ye in my bed, bonnie."

"Johnny!"

"What? I wasnae lying when I said ye were too pretty fer yer own good,"

"You're being lewd." You poked his chest.

"And ye aren't, aye? Askin' a lad like me to share a bed with ye."

"Shut up, Johnny. You know what I mean,"

"Aye,"

"Johnnyyyyyy!"

"I like yer laugh, bonnie," Soap mumbled into your hair, his lips brushing over the soft strands. "Wanna hear more of it,"

"You'll see me tomorrow."

"Aye, and the day after that,"

"And the day after that, and the day after that,"

Soap hummed, "Yer really going to have to stay the night with me." He tightened his hold on you.

You giggled, "Only if you want to.."

"I do. I do."

"Okay, then,"

Soap leaned down to peck your forehead before scooping you into his arms. You squealed and laughed, hugging his neck.

"Let's go, then, bonnie."

♡ ______ ♡

"W-wait! It's.. It's too big!-" Your eyes were tearing up from the intense pleasure, your voice hoarse and scratchy.

"Come on, bonnie. Ye can take it." Soap panted, his voice gravelly and gruff. "Relax for me, love."

You whimpered as he tried to fit his bulbous cock into your virgin hole. Your tiny cunt was trying to squeeze and suck him in, the wet squelching of your arousal not doing anything to help.

"J-Johnny, it's not gonna fit," You cried, tears streaming down your cheeks.

The older man reached down and rubbed tight circles into your clit, making your whole body twitch in sensitivity.

"O-oh, f-fuck.." You whined, toes curling and fingers grasping at the sheets.

"Language, bonnie,"

"S-Sorry," You mumbled, your pussy clenching and releasing around the head of his cock.

"That's it, bonnie, nice and easy.." Soap pushed further and you cried, a mix of pleasure and pain.

"Johnny, pull out! Pull out!-" You pushed against his chest as he smiled sadistically, forcing his cock into you.

"Relax, lass," He purred, "Ye can take it."

"N-No!-" You screamed. "I c-can't! It's too much! Ah-" His lips latched onto your tender nipple, sucking and nibbling.

"Just a bit more, bonnie," He mumbled. "Almost in.."

"P-please, no! I c-can't!" You sobbed, feeling his large hand on your abdomen, pressing down on your belly.

"Johnnyyyy~" You cried.

"Hush, love," He soothed, his lips latching onto yours.

You whined and moaned as he slowly inched himself into your small body, his hips flush against yours.

"There yer go, bonnie. All of me in yer little cunt," Soap praised, his rough palm cupping your cheek. "Good girl, taking all of me like that,"

You sniffled and nodded, a few stray tears falling. "S'hurts.. You gotta pull out, Johnny.. M'can't take it.."

God, the sight of you spread open under him, your eyes teary and cheeks pink, the way your walls fluttered and gripped his cock, the feeling of you around him, soft and pliant.

It was driving him mad. The feeling of ruining your innocence, the pleasure and satisfaction from taking your first time and the lust from fucking a young and naive girl was overwhelming.

He wanted more.

He wanted to see you break and shatter.

"I will, i will... Gonna pull out just for ye," Soap cooed, pulling out until only the tip remained.

You breathed a sigh of relief.

Soap slammed his hips back into yours, a loud scream and a sob ripped from your throat.

"Aww, poor bonnie.." He cooed, "Didnae mean to hurt ye,"

You couldn't form any coherent sentences as he rutted into you, your body rocking back and forth with the power of his thrusts.

His fingers were tormenting your poor clit, pinching and pulling at the sensitive nub as he smiled with a crazedexpression.

"I-It hurts! S-stop- N-no more!"

"Yer too fuckin' tight, love. So fuckin' good around me,"

"J-Johnny, please.. Help! H-help someone- Mmpff!-"

Soap captured your lips into a messy kiss, his tongue exploring every crevice and cavity. He sucked and licked at the roof of your mouth, his teeth biting at your bottom lip.

"Now, now, bonnie. Yer wouldn't want the neighbours to hear, would ye?" He covered your mouth with his hand and you sobbed, your eyes squeezing shut as he abused your cunt.

"That's it, lassie. Just let me fuck ye, nice and easy,"

Your body was wracked with sobs, torn between pain and pleasure. Your walls were clamping and fluttering around his cock, trying to milk him.

"Such a good girl," Soap moaned, "So good for me, aren't ye?"

"C-Can't breathe.." You whimpered in between sobs.

"But if I lift my hand, yer gonna start screaming and crying again, aren't ye?"

"N-No.."

"Don't lie, love," Soap smirked, "Yer such a naughty girl."

"I p-promise! Please- Need to breathe-" Your face was red from the lack of air and Soap chuckled.

"If ye say so, love," He slowly lifted his hand and you gasped, gulping in the air.

"P-Please! S-slow d-down- Ah!" You threw your head back, nails scratching at his arms.

"Beg fer it, bonnie. Beg fer it,"

"Please, slow down.. I-It's too much- J-Johnny please!" You whimpered.

"Alright, love. I'll give ye a break," Soap smirked, his hips slowing down. "See, I'm not that bad, am I?"

"N-No.." You whimpered softly as he petted your hair

"But I think ye need to thank me fer taking care of yer, hm?"

"T-Thank you," You mumbled, feeling his cock pull out, only the tip remaining.

"Ye think ye can take it a little more, lassie?" Soap grinned, "Ye want more, aye?"

"N-no! P-pull out, please!"

"Come on, love. We've come this far," Soap's voice was low and husky, sending shivers down your spine. "You love me, right? Ye wouldn't leave me hanging like this."

"I-I can't-"

"Oh, but ye can,"

"Please! I can't-"

"Say ye don't love me,"

"..."

"See? Come on.. Yer not a kid, bonnie. Ye can do it,"

"...O-okay, Johnny.."

"That's my good girl.." Soap cooed, pulling out slightly and slamming back into your abused cunt.

You muffled your screams into his shoulder and cried as he continued his ruthless pace. Your pussy was leaking and throbbing, the pleasure of his cock hitting all the right places.

"That's it, bonnie. Take all of me. Such a good girl for me, aren't ye? Ye take all my cock so well," He started playing with your clit and you thrashed, the stimulation becoming too much.

"Ahh-! S-Stop- I-It's too- Too m-much!"

"Yer close, aren't ye, love?"

You nodded frantically, tears streaming down your cheeks. "C-can't- P-pull out- N-Not ins-side-!"

"I'm sorry, bonnie. Can't do that,"

"N-No- Please, p-pull out-!" You sobbed.

"I'm afraid that's not gonna happen, lassie."

"No- N-No- I-It's coming-! P-pull out! N-not inside!" He cut you off with a deep kiss and you moaned, the pressure in your belly reaching its limit.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your orgasm washing over you. You screamed and thrashed, your back arching.

"There we go, love," Soap growled. "Take my load, love. I'm going to breed ye. Knock ye up, bonnie. Gonna fill ye with my seed," He grunted and came, his warm cum filling your womb and spilling out from the sides.

There was so much of it.

"N-no.. Don't like this.." You whined.

"Shhh," Soap kissed you again, "It's alright, love. Ye did so good,"

"Johnny..." You started crying again and he wrapped his arms around you.

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm here, bonnie. I've got ye," You pushed him away weakly.

"Now, don't be like that, bonnie. I just wanna hold ye." Soap pouted and you shook your head.

"Don't want you.. N-no.."

"But why, love? I thought ye loved me?" He smirked, knowing how you'd react.

"Y-you.. You didn't stop-" You weakly tried to get out of bed, but ended up on the floor.

"Aww, did ye hurt yerself, bonnie?"

"L-Leave me alone!"

Soap frowned, "Now that's not nice, lassie. Watch yer tone with me,"

"N-no! Stay away!"

Soap sighed and walked over to you. He picked you up and laid you back on the bed, your face red and blotchy. You kept on trying to push him away, but you were too weak.

"I'm going to have to clean ye up, aye? Ye wouldn't want to wake up all sticky, would ye?"

"L-Let me go!" You were struggling to push him back.

"Ye have no right to refuse me, bonnie." He said, "If ye keep pushing me, i might have to teach ye a lesson."

You didn't care and kept on trying to get away from him. In the midst of your struggle, you slipped your hands out of his hold and slapped him, hard.

His face turned red and his eyes were wide, a shocked expression on his face. He touched the spot where you hit him and chuckled, his laughter turning into a full blown fit.

"Getting feisty, are we, lassie? Yer a brave one, aren't ye?"

You gulped, afraid. You realised your mistake and quickly scrambled off the bed, stumbling to the other side of the room.

Soap was much faster, his large hands grabbing your waist and throwing you back on the bed. You screamed and tried to hit him, but he was faster.

"What did I tell ye, bonnie?"

"Y-You said n-nothing about this! I thought you were different!-"

"Aye, ye liked my accent, didn't ye?"

"W-what-?"

"And ye thought I was a good guy, didn't ye? Aye, ye did,"

"I thought-"

"Ye young lassies are the same. So gullible," Soap smirked, his lips hovering near yours.

"Let me go!"

"Now why would I do that? Yer mine and I'm yers. Isn't that right, bonnie?"

You shook your head, tears running down your cheeks.

"That's right. Yer my sweet little girl, and I'm yer Johnny." He pulled you into his chest, a hand threateningly wrapped around your throat from behind. "And that means, yer gonna be nice and all cute with me, and we're gonna get along, aye?"

You sobbed and nodded, not wanting to make him angrier.

"Good, good. I'm glad yer smart, love,"

"L-Let me go, please.. I w-won't tell a-anyone.."

"Now, now. I'll let ye go once we're done here but it doesn't mean you get to go, if you know what I mean," He chuckled.

"D-don't touch me," You tried to sound intimidating but he only found it cute.

"I can't do that, lass. I already told ye. Yer my lassie, and I'm yer man." He kissed your forehead affectionately. "S'okay, yer gonna love it sooner or later, aye?"

"I-I'm scared.."

"No, don't be, love. M'still yer Johnny." He pressed a gentle kiss on the corner of your lips.

You sniffled and relaxed a little.

"Yer still so tense, love. How about we get ye cleaned up, aye?" His deceptively sweet voice contradicting the horror he had put you through.

"Now don't go anywhere.. Or i'll kill ye," He kissed the tip of your nose.

You nodded.

He left the room and went into the bathroom. He brought out a small basin and a washcloth. He soaked the washcloth in the basin and squeezed the excess water out.

"Spread yer legs for me, love. Nice and easy," You obeyed him, not wanting to make him mad.

He gently rubbed the warm cloth between your thighs, cleaning the dried cum and juices.

"There ye go... Nice and easy.." He cooed as he softly cleaned you up as you whimpered softly.

"There's a good girl, ye did so well.."

You were still sobbing and hiccupping as he placed the washcloth back in the basin.

"Hurts.." You whined.

"What hurts, baby girl?"

"Down there.. Hurts.." Tears fell from your eyes as you complained.

"Aww, ye poor thing.. S'okay, I'll help ye..." He set the basin aside and pulled you into his chest.

You were still sobbing, trying to pull away from him, but his arms held you in place.

"Shhh.. It's okay, love... Ye did so good... Yer my good girl. Did so well for me..."

He gently stroked your hair and soothed you, whispering comforting words in your ear.

"I-It hurts so much.."

"I know.. M'sorry, bonnie.. Ye felt too good, m'couldn't help it.." He cooed, his voice gentle and warm.

"Why'd you have to be so rough? Why'd you have to hurt me like that?"

"S'because, love... Yer such a good girl, m'just wanted to show ye how much I love ye..." He smirked to himself as he watched you slowly relax in his arms.

"But it still hurts.."

"I promise I won't hurt ye like that again.."

"Please don't ever do this to me again.."

"I'm sorry, bonnie.." He cooed as he softly petted your hair.

You were silent except for the soft whimpering and sobbing.

"Are ye mad at me, love?"

"..."

"Ye can say yes, love... M'not mad at ye..."

You shook your head, not sure if you could answer him.

"I dunno.." You were confused, unsure how to feel.

"I'll be a better man, bonnie. I promise, I won't ever hurt ye again. Ye don't deserve to be treated this way."

"P-promise..?" Your tearful doe eyes met his icy blue ones.

"Aye, bonnie. I promise."

"Then I forgive you." You murmured as he hugged you tightly.

"Yer such a kind soul, lassie." He smirked to himself, his fingers gently rubbing the small of your back.

"Thank you.."

"Yer welcome, love."

"Can we get some sleep?" You asked, your voice hoarse. "M'so tired.."

"Aye, we can." He gently laid you down on the bed, kissing your forehead.

"Can you cuddle with me?" Soap’s cock jolted a bit in excitement from how pathetic you sounded.

"Sure, bonnie."

"Thank you..." You sniffled softly into his chest, desperately snuggling the warm skin for comfort.

"There, there.. I'm here, love.."

"I love you, Johnny.."

"M'love ye too, bonnie."

#call of duty #cod mw2 #soap mw2 #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john mactavish #cod #soap smut #john soap mactavish smut #serial killer soap

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ktdragonborn · 21 days ago

Text

Another Spencer. (Chapter 2)

Carlton Lassiter X Female Reader (Shawn's Sister)

Summary: You finally moved back to California after almost 15 years away. When your mom and dad separated, your dad got Shawn and your mom took you. (Don't ask me why it's just what they agreed on). But now you're back! And you never expected to meet such a dashing Detective that would sweep you off your feet.

Characters: You, Carlton, Shawn and Gus, Juilet, Henry Spencer (dad), Madeleine Spencer (mom), Chief Karan Vick, mention of many other characters.

Warnings: Some bar tension, some dude tries to hit on you for approximately three seconds, so nothing bad. There will be smut and other graphic scenes as the story progresses.

~This story follows the show Psych. Plots from episodes are mentioned and some chapters will have you added to them. I do not own any characters from the TV Psych, just a big fan of the show and a bigger fan of our boy Lassie. I couldn't ever find something that hit my craving for Lassiter so here I am. This will also be a very long story. Very long. I'm starting it towards the end of Season 2 and plan on writing it throughout the whole show, skipping some episodes but in the end, it'll be very long.~

I forgot to add this to the first chapter, but let me know in the comments if you wanna be added to the tag list! Thank you everyone for the support so far on this story!

Chapter 1

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

You walked into your office bright and early in the morning. It was only your second week in California, let alone in this office, and you were still getting used to traffic and the city's layout. So much had changed since you last visited Santa Barbara, and it was a tad overwhelming at times.

You turned on the overhead lights and started to prep your office for the day. Small lamps where you conducted your sessions and plenty of green plants around your office. It wasn't a huge area. There was a small lobby entrance for a waiting room-type thing. You had filled the room with a couch and a couple of chairs with a coffee table. Magazines and books for people to read as well as a water cooler. A small desk sat next to the door that led to the larger part of your office. There was a computer and phone set up. No one used it except for you, you weren't busy enough to justify hiring a receptionist- although you have thought about reaching out to Shawn since you know he's bored when he doesn't have a case to work.

You set your bag down and grabbed everything you needed for the day from your desk. Thankfully, you had two new clients today. Your full schedule included four patients, two new ones, and two “regulars”. They were the first two to join your clinic and have been coming to you ever since. You were thankful for their “business”, and they had been spreading the word about you to their friends, promising every time they see you that they’ve got friends trying to find time to come see you. You set up in the larger room, sitting in your “therapist chair” as Shawn so lovingly described it. You read over the file of the first patient today. They wanted a check-up/check-in with their mental health. In the file they described what they had been feeling, they had been anxious in the workplace and began to realize that their friends were quite toxic. You began to formulate some reasonings and diagnoses for their ailment, just preparing yourself for the appointment but you knew you would keep an open mind throughout the appointment. You looked at the time and realized your patient would be here soon. You got yourself and your patient some water and sat down in your chair awaiting their arrival.

~I know, You know~

You breathed deeply, leaning back in your desk chair. You moved your hands up to your eyes, giving them a good rub before sitting back up and packing up all your belongings. Today had been a long day. Simple enough, however, one of your returning patients came in with some new drama as she loved to describe it. You probably knew more about this girl's life than her parents at this point and you were happy about it. You were glad you could be the safety net that she needed. However, you knew now that you needed a drink. You shut off the lights and locked the door behind you, heading to your car and going to the closest bar you knew of.

~They just don’t have any proof~

The problem about being a girl in California in a bar all by yourself is being a girl in a bar all by yourself. Unfortunately, the state you're in doesn't change much of anything. You sat alone at the bar, you took an end seat, and the only seat open next to you would cram someone up against the wall. You thought that might keep people away but unfortunately, it didn't. Fortunately, however, today was Friday, which meant you could relax and decompress from the week you just had.

Another man tried to move into the seat next to you. You had been observing him across the bar and knew he'd try something. About 4-5 drinks in and his buddies kept pointing at you too. You looked at him and gave him a small smile. “Sorry pal, seats taken,” that's been your excuse most of the night, playing up that you're waiting for a friend or a date to stop by.

“We've been here the whole time you have, and no one's shown up yet,” the man slurred through his words and started to get close to you. You reached for your drink and covered the top of it, not risking anything.

“I might've gotten stood up but I'm willing to wait. Again, seats taken sir, please go back to your friends.”

“Ah come on, I bet I can show you a better time than the chump you were meeting,” his hand started to caress the back of your arm. You frowned and looked at his hand.

“If you don't stop touching me right now you will regret it.” Your tone was strict and your glare was firm. He took a step closer to you and his breath reeked of alcohol.

“Oh yeah? How am I gonna regret it?”

“I suggest you leave her alone right now pal,” a very authoritarian voice echoed in your ears and you looked behind the man to see a taller man, with salt and pepper short hair and piercing blue eyes. He took your breath away but you stayed focused on the interaction. The man turned around and his whole body language changed when he had to look up to see your savior (hopefully).

“What's it to you, buddy?" The drunk man tried to sound tough, but it didn't work out.

“The fact that she's so uncomfortable with you around that she has to cover her drink. Leave her alone before I get the cops involved. I have ties to the SBPD.” The drunk man nodded and walked away quickly, seemingly spooked by something the man showed him.

“Thank you for that, it's been happening all night but he's definitely been the most persistent one.”

“It's not a problem,” the man said, his blue eyes sparked when he saw you fully for the first time and he smiled at you. You smiled back and offered him the seat next to you.

“I've been saving this for someone, at least that's what I've been telling everyone else. It's yours since you saved me.”

“Well thank you,” the man started and you signaled for him to stop for a second.

“I'll fit better over there since it's so close to the wall. Plus I think I'll be leaving soon so might as well give you the good seat,” you got up and switched and he sat down next to you.

“Well thank you for the seat,” he smiled and waved the bartender down for a drink. You nodded and smiled and continued to sip on your drink. You spun around in your chair to face the crowd around you, watching everyone as they interacted. “Do you just come here to people-watch?” Your savior asked as he turned to watch you.

“I'm a sense,” you laughed a little and turned more toward him. “My dad actually is a retired detective for the SBPD, and he was crazy about making sure my brother and I were super observant. Like crazy observant. My brother is definitely better at it than I am though.”

“Interesting,” the man hummed and looked out to the crowd with you.

“I am also a licensed psychiatrist, so noticing things about people is kind of my job,” you laughed and the man chuckled next to you.

“It's kind of my job too,” he said quietly and you turned to him, taking in his appearance. Suit pants, suit jacket, long sleeve button-up shirt. You noticed his shirt was unbuttoned a little bit, showing off some of his chest hair. You could tell he was wearing a tie all day, there was slight redness to his neck from the pressure of it.

“You're a cop, aren't you?” You said quietly and he looked at you, kind of surprised. “No offense officer, but you're still dressed like a cop, and you have a certain tension to you that cops carry. I saw it all the time with my dad.” He looked down at himself and smirked at you.

“I can tell you're pretty good at what you do,” he smiled and reached his hand out to you. “Carlton Lassiter, I'm the head detective with SBPD,” you took his hand and shook it.

“Ooo a head detective, now that's impressive. I'm (Y/n) (L/n),” you took your mom's maiden name after the separation, although she remained a Spencer. Not sure why, but you two never really talked about it. A part of you knew too, that you'd come back to Santa Barbara, and you wanted to make sure to make a name for yourself without Spencer being attached to it.

“A lovely name,” you noticed Carlton swallowed hard, his eyes shifting as if gauging the situation and conversation.

“You're too kind, detective,” you winked and he smiled a little. “Listen, Carlton, I've gotta be honest with you,” you paused and his eyes changed, showing uncertainty, “I just feel like I need to tell you that I'm not a one night stand kind of gal, so I really don't wanna get your hopes up.” Carlton seemed to sign, or let out a breath he was holding.

“I'm fine with that, more than fine with that actually,” he almost said too excitedly.

“That’s a relief,” you laughed and relaxed a little with Carlton. “So, had any good cases lately?”

“I have,” he smiled and adjusted himself slightly, “We just had a case where the victim was murdered with the smallest dose of snake venom from Brazil, some crazy doctor was stealing money from the charity organization they were a part of.”

“Oh, you know what, I think my dad told me about that! Was it at that weird secret society lodge?”

“Yeah! Wait how’d your dad know?”

“He may be retired from the SBPD but that does not stop him from following cases very closely,” you laughed and Carlton nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, I’ll probably be that way too someday.”

“It’s not a bad thing by any means, at least you can still be in on the action without the risk of serious injury, which is good in old age.”

“I suppose it is. I’m not sure if I’ll ever retire peacefully” Carlton confessed and you laughed.

“Sounds an awful lot like my dad. There’s certainly a time and place for it, depends on what position you’re in too. Like if you were the Chief you could work for God knows how long, not a whole lot of field work with that position.”

“The field work is the best part though,” Carlton countered and you shrugged and nodded.

“I don’t disagree, but you gotta choose the lesser of the two evils. Fieldwork that can result in not-so-pleasant outcomes may get injured and have to retire early, or, the position of Chief where you can hide away from the outside evil.”

“You make a good point, I’m not sure if I can ever get Chief. Chief Vick is by far one of the most outstanding Chiefs the SBPD has had in recent years.”

“I’m glad to hear it, a good boss means good work.”

“What about you? How’s your job situation?”

“It's great. But that’s because I’m my own boss,” you added with a smile and Carlton gave you a small smile with an eyebrow raise. “I have my own office where I take clients almost every day. I’m working on getting my clientele back up to where it was back home- I just recently moved back to California from Colorado.”

“What brought you to Colorado?” Carlton inquired.

“My mom primarily. She divorced my dad when I was 13. My older brother was 17 and was being impacted the most by their failing relationship, as my mom so nicely explained to me one day. For some reason they just agreed to split us kids, so my brother stayed here with my dad and I went with my mom,” you sighed and Carlton looked at you with soft eyes.

“I’m sorry. That doesn’t sound easy.”

“It wasn’t, but looking back on it, it was unfortunately the best option for everyone. My brother was basically an adult so my mom thought he would handle the divorce well. He blamed our dad for the divorce. It was my mom's idea though, she never told my brother that so he just assumed it was my dad.”

“Why haven’t you told your brother?”

“It's a conversation I know him and my mom need to have ya know? If I was the one to tell him, he could lash out and not believe me. I know one day he’ll express to our mom how he resents our dad for it, but that’s for the future,” you sipped your drink and took in Carlton fully. The way he carried himself was attractive. He was very confident and calm throughout your conversation with him and there was slight tension building up between the two of you. You thought back to the conversation and realized the trauma dump you just performed. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” Carlton asked, surprised at your sudden change of tone.

“For the trauma dump, I just gave you. You didn’t deserve that.”

“I appreciate it,” Carlton said with a small smile. “It shows you’re comfortable around me already.”

“I guess you’re right. You’re easy to relax around.”

“I guess I should repay the favor?”

“Of trauma dumping?” You laughed and he smiled and shook his head.

“Not so much of dumping as just sharing more about myself with you.”

“Only if you’re comfortable, Carlton,” you smiled. His eyes lit up and he had a big smile on his face.

“Surprisingly…I am comfortable. There’s not too much to tell. I became Head Detective of the SBPD in 1996, I’m very good at what I do. I was married, but we’ve been separated for about two years now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Carlton,” you said with a small frown. You reached your arm out and gently squeezed his arm.

“There are times when it sucks more than others. Right now, however, I’m not too upset about it,” Carlton smirked at you and you felt your cheeks heat up at the blatant flirting. You giggled slightly and let go of his arm, turning back to your drink. Carlton was really having an effect on you. You couldn’t remember the last time a grown man made you giggle because he was flirting with you. Carlton watched your cheeks turn bright red and continued to stare as the redness traveled up to the tops of your ears. He was mesmerized by you. A cute, amazingly single woman who was honest and attracted to him. You were young, he could tell. It made him a little nervous, himself being 40. He was nervous because of his age but he couldn’t bring himself to tell you, in case it scared you off. It wasn’t fair to you, he realized that, but he couldn’t help it. Your phone ringing pulled Carlton out of his trance and he watched as you quickly answered the call, muttering an apology to him.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked quickly. Carlton attempted to distract himself with patrons around the bar so he didn’t listen in to your conversation. “Really? Oh gosh okay. Yeah of course. I’ll be on my way,” you said with panic in your voice. Carlton immediately felt disappointed when you said you would be on your way. He turned back to you, and you were looking in his eyes immediately. He stopped breathing for a second, taking in your eyes and how vibrantly your emotions showed through them.

“Everything ok?” “I’m so sorry Carlton, I have to leave. My brother just called and said something happened to his best friend, who in turn is also like a brother to me.”

“It's not a problem, this is obviously very important.”

“Here,” you said rifling your bag and digging out a piece of paper. You scribbled down your phone number and gave it to Carlton, making sure he had a good grip on the paper. “Call me tomorrow. Or- well, whenever you’re free, call me. I know a detective's schedule can be hard to work with. I’d love to see you again,” you smiled and tipped the bartender, grabbing your belongings and standing up. You looked at Carlton and could see the sadness on his face. You hopped a little in your place before quickly pressing a kiss to Carlton’s cheek. His face flushed red and you smiled. “Please, call me,” you said and started to head for the door.

“I will,” Carlton called out to you as you turned around and gave him a big smile, before waving and walking out the door. Carlton wasted no time in adding your number to his contacts on his phone. He was absolutely going to call you.

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

@capitanostella :)

#psych #carlton lassiter #shawn spencer #burton guster #Juliet Ohara #karen vick #henry spencer #carlton lassiter x reader #carlton lassiter x female reader #carlton lassiter smut #carlton lassiter x reader smut #carlton lassiter x female reader smut #psych tv

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astheskycries · 4 hours ago

Text

Twisted Games- Meetings

Growing up with a hitman for a father, Andy Barber has never wanted to go near the mafia and used the money from the family to go to law school. When Steve Bteve Rogers offered him help after a hit on his family, he was more than happy to ensure no more unnecessary hits were made. As long as everyone is at arms’ length, he can keep them safe.

I want to take the time to give a MASSIVE shout out to @stargazingfangirl18 , who not only read this over for me but also has listened to me ramble and brainstorm over this AU and gave me amazing advice. This series wouldn't exist without her ❤️ I hope you all enjoy! If your name is not tagged it means I physically can't tag you, but I will be redoing my Tags soon so please keep an eye out for that!

Masterlist Buy Me a Coffee

The sun sparkles over the water of the Harbor, starting to set over the horizon as I review the documents for the umpteenth time. Though the hours are long, it’s been well worth the investment. Taking out money from a waitressing job was a huge risk, especially for someone who can’t afford college or a car that ran without being patchworked together, but somehow I turned a small business worked in the little time between jobs into a booming construction company, expanding into design and even buying out several companies in the greater Boston area.

“Ma’am? Your appointment is here.”

Speaking of.

I relax back a bit as I watch the lawyer slip inside, my assistant nodding once before shutting the door behind her. In other circumstances he would be a welcome distraction- short but soft brown hair styled up, a full beard with just the slight hints of grey, and the most beautiful baby blues I’ve ever seen. Tall and well-built, it’s no wonder Andy Barber has the reputation he does.

“Good Afternoon,” He greets smoothly, relaxing in his chair as he grabs his file folder. “I’m assuming you’ve reviewed everything?”

“Of course,” I lock the computer and move to my own paper copy, lazily opening it with a finger. “You’re nothing if not thorough, Mr. Barber.”

He hums, a slight smirk on his lips. “Well, it’s part of the job. Mr. Rogers wanted to make sure everything was covered.”

Yes. That.

“I saw that,” I flip through to a specific section, humming once. “Unfortunately, I’m still not interested in selling.”

Mr. Barber raises an eyebrow, watching me carefully. “Mr. Rogers has offered an unusually high payout for this company. If it’s stability you’re concerned about, he’s clearly stated money is no object.”

“It’s no object for me either, the answer is no.” I let the file close with a little smack, relaxing against my chair. “Will that be all?”

Mr. Barber shifts to lean closer, toying with a pen. “On a personal level, I think you may want to reconsider. Mr. Rogers has hired me for all of his business dealings; I know how he works. He’ll wait as long as it takes to acquire the company.”

I mirror his movements, leaning closer and crossing my hands on the desk. “I’ve done my own research, Mr. Barber. I’m fully confident that I will not be signing any deal that hands my company over to him.”

He makes a noise, putting away the file and slowly rising to his feet. “I’ll inform Mr. Rogers of your response. I’m sure we’ll be seeing each other again shortly.”

I hum, watching him until the door shuts before sagging against the chair with a breath, glancing over at the clock and seeing how late it is. I turn to look out at the skyline again, biting my lips as I let my mind wander.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow we can plan for the next one.

…

“I assume it didn’t go as planned?” Steve muses, pouring a glass of bourbon as he watches Andy pace the floor of his private office. Though the leader of the group, the blonde looks innocent, almost angelic with his bright blue eyes and clean shaven appearance. He's a walking Greek god, a perfect covering for the horns holding up the halo.

“She turned the offer down. Again.” Andy fumes loosening his tie as he continues to pace, flipping through the file for the hundredth time.

“Is this the third time? Or second?” Steve leans against his desk, eyebrows raised as he looks over his drink, downing it in one swig.

“Third offer. Second refusal- no one ever refuses your deals.” Andy turns, unamused by Steve’s expression. “I even warned her you wanted to continue negotiations. She said money wasn’t an object and sent me packing.” He sighs, accepting the new glass Steve offers. “I told her I’d let you know and be in touch.”

Steve smirks, hiding it behind another drink. “See if you can find what she wants, come up with an agreement. Take her to one of our best restaurants.” He lets his shoulders relax, taking a moment to observe how ruffled the lawyer is. “I have to admit, this is refreshing.”

“Fuck off,” Andy mutters, finishing the glass. “I’ll get to work tomorrow.”

Steve hums, taking a slow drink. “I mean it. I haven’t seen you this animated in a while.”

Andy hums, rolling the ice in his glass. “I can’t get a read on her. It’s frustrating, you know how long I've worked on our offers being airtight? We’re more than generous when we buy out.”

“Well, it’s good for you. Something different.” Steve takes his friends’ empty glass, setting them aside. “I trust you to handle it. I’m not sparing any expenses, this would give us control over the other side of town. More leverage.”

Andy nods, glancing at his watch. “I’ll make it happen.”

“Andy?” Steve waits for the man to pause and look back, hand still on the handle. “Take her to that high rise restaurant.”

“I’m not taking her on a date.” Andy swiftly leaves, leaving a new voice to laugh from their place lounged on the sofa.

“You’re setting up the hard ass?” Lloyd muses, smirking over his drink as his rings gently tap against the glass. His loafers are shining in the light as he crosses his ankles, thick mustache doing nothing to hide his amusement. “You really think this is a good idea?”

Steve hums, moving back to his seat. “You’re complaining?”

“Fuck no.” Lloyd grins, continuing to spin his knife in his fingers, enjoying the way it glints from the lamp light. “Just determines whether I plant those cameras in his office.”

“No.” Steve focuses on his computer. “But send him my black card. I’ll cover his ‘dinner’.”

Twisted Games: @hangmanscoming

Tags: @janeyboo @mylittlefandomfanfictions @palaiasaurus64 @averyrogers83 @guera31 @soulmates8 @coffeebooksandfandom @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @pegasusdragontiger @mizzzpink @onetwo3000 @see-you-again-my-sun-and-stars @sleepylunarwolf @wheresmyplums @smoothdogsgirl @marvelouslyme96 @esoltis280 @jtargaryen18 @k-evans-writes @rainbowkisses31 @buchanansebba @katiew1973 @patzammit @time-for-a-lullaby @openup-yourmind

#twisted games #twisted games au #andy #andy barber #andy x reader #andy barber x reader #andy au #andy barber au

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