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twice-inamillion · 19 days ago

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The Company Series

Birthday Exchange

Smut

Chapter 22

3180 Words

(Irene celebrates her birthday with her members but are interrupted. As the CEO of the company you want to give your assistant a present for her to remember.)

Since their debut a few months ago, Irene and her members have been in the practice room. With all of them being introverts, it became difficult for them to interact with other trainees in the building, and they usually hung out as a group. They would always stick by each other, with Irene as the mother in the group.

Most trainees would avoid them due to their serious nature but mainly because of Irene’s cold personality. It was hard for most to approach her or even be in the same room as her. Whenever she or her group members would enter a practice room or cafeteria, the others would slowly distance themselves or exit the room completely, except for one.

Yeri was one of the trainees that would often go up to Irene. She was in awe of Irene’s motherly presence and demeanor, the way she would treat her members. She would even treat her to snacks once in a while.

Irene felt a sense of motherliness whenever she would see Yeri. She enjoyed treating her snacks and often viewed her during her practice. The way she would light up the room with her laughter was something she enjoyed, and thought it would be nice to have in the group.

She decided to introduce her to the group and debut as a group, but when she brought up the topic, you would dismiss the idea or tell her that Yeri didn’t seem like a good fit due to the age difference. She tried to bring up the topic a few more times until you told her to debut with the members she currently has or forget the thought of debuting at all.

As she looks at feedback on her performance, she realizes that debuting without Yeri might have been a mistake; she should have tried harder. Even with her group’s debut she’s kept in contact with Yeri, often visiting her and treating her to delicious food and snacks.

“Unnie, good job on your performance.”

”Thanks.”

“You’re doing a great job.”

”Thanks.” She feels a knot in her stomach, knowing that she could have debuted together. “Sorry, Yeri.”

”Don’t worry, unnie. I know you tried your best. Don’t worry about me; I’m going to try my hardest to get good scores. Maybe I’ll debut soon, and we can be idols together.”

Irene could see Yeri trying to put a strong smile before her but knew she was heartbroken when she wasn’t allowed to debut.

——

Her expression remained in Irene’s mind over the next few days. She knew she had to do something to set this right.

While you were busy looking at the next upcoming projects, you heard a knock on the door. “Come in.”

Irene walks in with a stack of files and sets it on the table. You watch as she stands, looking at you intensely. “Anything to say?”

“Uh… yes.”

“What is it?”

“I’m thankful for allowing my group to debut, and I’m looking forward to our future comeback, but…”

You see the hesitation in Irene and respond, “But…”

“I… I wondered if adding one more person to the group was okay with you.”

You look at Irene and back to your work, “We talked about this remember.”

“Yes, but I think it would be beneficial for the group if we added one more.”

The two of you go back and forth on the matter until you break it off, “I’ll think about it.”

——

Days have passed since the two of you talked, but you knew that adding another member was out of the question. Planning the upcoming survival show was your priority.

“Sir, are you done with the documents I sent you?”

“Yes, let the producers and JYP know about my suggestions.”

“Will do, sir.”

There’s a moment of silence until Ji-eun speaks up, “Are you going to do anything for Irene?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s her birthday, sir.”

There’s a slight lag in your reaction. Ji-eun’s tone of voice gives you an idea, which causes you to smirk. “Thank you. I forgot about it completely. I’ll make sure to give her something special.”

“No problem. I’m sure she’ll be happy with anything you give her.“

You head back home and get yourself ready to visit Irene. You head down the elevator and exit, making your way to the group’s apartment.

You press the doorbell, and wait a few seconds to see Wendy open the door.

“Hello, sir.”

“Wendy. Is Irene here?”

“She’s in the bathroom getting ready to go out. Are you looking for her?”

“Yeah… I want to congratulate her.”

Wendy smirks, reading the room. She gets her other members and says, “Seems like we forgot something. We’ll be back in a few.”

“Don’t let me hold you back. Here, find you need something,” you say as you take out your black card.

“Thanks.”

You close the door and look around the living room while waiting for Irene to exit the bathroom. Within a few minutes, you heard the sound of the door opening. She walks to the living room and says, “What do you three want to eat?”

“Happy Birthday.”

Her expression changes, her excited expression turning into a sight of displeasure as she sees you standing in front of the shelf with the pictures of the members. “What are you doing here?”

“I want to wish you a happy birthday,” giving her a soft smile.

Irene tried her best to return the smile, “Thank you. You didn’t need to take time off your busy schedule.”

“It's no problem. I also thought about our conversation earlier.”

“Really?”

“I think we can make it happen.”

“Omg. Thank you!” She immediately grabs her phone to call Yeri when you cut her off.

“It’s not official yet, so don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know…” you say as you give her a smirk.

Irene sees your smirk and realizes what you’re trying to say.

“Show me how serious you are.”

”Is… is there any other way?”

You walk up to her and grab her by the waist and place your other hand on her ass, “What do you think?”

She looks up at you, and you can see the hate in her eyes, but she quickly answers, “You better keep your promise.”

There’s no need for any words as you squeeze her ass, causing Irene to slightly flinch. You tilt her head and make out with her, but she tries to push you off, “Stop… you don’t have to get all romantic.”

“I was just trying to set the mood.”

“Let’s not lie to ourselves; I’m not doing this because I want to, so don’t think I’m going to act all lovey-dovey with you.”

“Okay, okay… I see.”

You pick up Irene and take her towards her room, tossing her onto the bed. “Ouch, you don’t have to be rough.”

“You said not to be romantic. You shouldn’t care how I treat you.”

There’s no response from Irene, and instead, she stares at the door, hoping to escape the situation.

Irene doesn’t react as you spread her legs open, pulling down her panties and tossing them to the side. You slap your cock against her thighs, causing her to come back to reality. “Fuck, it’s been a while since I saw your cunt. Spread that pussy for me.”

Irene gives you a look of disgust and replies with a hard “No” as she closes her legs together. Unsatisfied with her response, you spread them again, “I’m not going to be asking you again, do it or else…”

She reads the expression on your face and knows that you’re not playing around. She’s reluctant but does as she’s told, putting her index and ring fingers on her folds.

Irene slowly spreads her pussy lips, turning her head to the side, trying to avoid your reaction. “Beautiful. Such a nice color.” You get on your knees to take a closer look, “Spread them a bit more.” Again, she pulls her soft, tender flesh back, exposing her sacred region. “There, happy?”

“Yes...”

Irene doesn’t notice as you hover your mouth centimeters away from her pussy. Suddenly, she feels a hot sensation dragging against her folds. Irene yelps, turning her head back towards your direction, “What are you doing? Don’t lick me there!”

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited…”

Irene squirms at the sensation of your tongue dragging against her pussy lips. She tries to push your head back, but you press your head deeper, inserting your tongue inside of her cunt. She puts her hand against her mouth as you eat her out, trying her best not to moan.

You pull your head out, leaving her cunt completely wet, “Fuck, that was good. I think you're ready.” You grab your cock and slap it against Irene’s pelvis.

Irene watches the scene in front of her, your heavy cock teasing her. She then feels the tip of your cock pressing against her pussy, slowly spreading her pussy lips.

It’s happening; she’s about to lose her virginity she worked so hard to keep. She hates the idea of her virginity getting taken by you, a man who has no value for women. She knows of all your flings, the women you’ve conquered with your position.

Your cock slowly spread her pussy lips around, the tip of your cock disappearing into Irene’s virgin cunt. She whines as her folds are spread and wrapping itself wound your cock.

Suddenly, she feels pressure, a pain she’s never felt before. “Wai… wait… it hurts.” The pain sharpens, and she screams, “It hurts… take it out!”

You watch as Irene tries to push you away, struggling from the sharp pain, “Don’t worry, it’s just going to hurt a bit.”

”I don’t care; take it out now!” Irene digs her nails into your arms, screaming through the unbearable pain. You ignore her and shove your whole length inside, resulting in her cussing you out, “Ahh! You’re tearing me apart, you fucken pig!”

*Slap*

Irene becomes quiet. She doesn’t know what just happened to her. All she knows is that her left cheek stings. She puts her face on it and feels hot. She slowly turns and looks at you in fear. “Y… you hit me.”

”I tried to be nice to you, but all I get is hate. So either you behave like the little slut you are, or I’ll make sure to make everything you love disappear.”

Irene sees the seriousness in your eyes; she knows you mean it this time. ”So what’s it going to be?”

”I’ll behave.”

”That’s my girl.”

Irene flinches at the sight of you raising your hand, “Don’t worry, I won’t hit you unless you act up of course. You’re going to behave well, right?” Irene nods, “That’s my girl. Now kiss me.”

Her body trembles as she gives you a slight peck on your lips. You want to laugh at the complete 360 shift but admire her willingness to try.

The two of you make out, your tongues intertwining, salvia mixing. You whisper in her ear, “I’m going to keep going, okay? Cry if you want; try not to ruin the mood.”

Irene cries in silence as you thrust your cock. “You taste so good,” you say while you kiss her neck. She stares at the ceiling, convincing herself that what she is doing is worth it.

Every time she’s about to forget what’s going on, she feels you hit the back of her womb. The pain is a bit more manageable but still painful. She can feel the way you stretch her walls to its limits, how her flesh gets pulled back every time you pull your cock out. At some point, she thinks that with the amount of thrusting, you’ll turn her pussy inside out.

Out of nowhere, she hears a loud pop and sees you pull your cock out. You lay on her bed with your cock semi-hard. “I want you to ride me.”

She looks at your smug expression and wants to tell you off badly. She nods. It’s about to grab your cock when she feels a wet sensation running down her thighs as she looks down.

Her expression changes when she feels a mixture of pre cum and what seems to be blood from her losing her virginity. She looks at cock and sees it covered with that mixture. She continues to stare at it, thinking of her virginity being robbed by a man like you. “Come on, ride this cock.”

She climbs on your pelvis and puts her body against your member. Her lips hug your cock, and she slowly grinds herself on you.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Irene reluctantly nods and looks at your cock covered in both your fluids. She hovers on top of you and slowly puts it against her entrance. She looks at you, silently pledging you not to make her do this. You smile and say, “Just like that baby. Drop that pussy down.”

She lowers her body slowly, feeling your cock get harder the more it does inside. Tired of waiting, you grab her by the waist and bring her down.

“Fuck!”

Her walls clamp on your cock, adjusting itself to your massive length. “That’s it, baby, ride this cock.”

Irene closes her eyes as she slowly starts to move, causing her to feel her slimy flesh coating your cock in nectar. You place your hands on her ass and give it a nice squeeze.

“Ahh!”

You slap her ass, causing her to yelp, “You’re getting better at it. Keep on riding me like your life depends on it.” Irene nods and increases the pace; she grinds herself on you and gets used to the feeling.

You see Irene’s expression change as you hear her moan. Her eyes closed as she focused on your cock rubbing against her walls. “Ahh… ahh…” You grin; you know she was stubborn but assumed she would fall like the rest.

With your hands around her back, pull her into your chest, “Let me take over for a bit.” You instantly start to thrust rapidly, “Ahh, ahh… wait… what… are you… doing?” She tries to get away from you, but it’s useless, “I’m going to make you orgasm before I pump you with cum.”

“Wait… that wasn’t part of the de….”

You pull out and ram yourself back inside, thrusting your cock harder and rapidly. Irene's moans suddenly increase louder as she feels her organs getting rearranged. “Ahh, ahhh, wait… please. You’re going to make me pee myself…”

Irene’s body begins to spasm as her toes curl up, “It’s it, baby, cum for me. I want to see how wet you can get. The hot breathing on your neck turns you even more when you feel Irene’s womb twitch.

“Ahh! I can’t hold it!”

Irene squirts her hot liquid all over your cock, causing it to gush between the small gaps in your lower region. You watch as Irene’s eyes roll back from the overwhelming sensation. Her cunt goes through a phase where it clenches and releases its grip on your cock, “Feels good, doesn’t it.”

Irene tries to respond but lacks the ability to control her body and instead crashes onto you. You grin as she continues to tremble, her body extremely sensitive.

As Irene was just gaining control, you wrap your arms around her waist and whisper in her ear, “I’m going to breed you; make sure to take all my cum.”

Her eyes widened, realizing what you just said. She tries to push you off, but it’s no use. “Don’t, don’t cum inside, please… pull out…”

You increase the strength of your arms, almost crushing her as she feels the overwhelming heat pouring inside her. “Ahh!! Pull out! Please! I don’t want to get pregnant!”

“It’s okay, just relax and enjoy my hot cum. Think of it as an extra reward for letting me take your virginity.”

“No, I don’t want it, please…”

“Shh… relax. Remember what we talked about.”

Irene hesitates but nods, realizing her efforts are in vain; she closes her eyes to avoid your gaze. By doing so, her other senses heightened, her focus on the sensation of your cock pumping cum into her womb.

It’s overwhelming; she feels like she’s about to pass out. The amount of cum being pumped into their womb is making her feel like she’s already pregnant. Not used to the foreign sensation, her body overloads, and passes out from exhaustion, leaving her body defenseless.

“That was a nice birthday gift,” you say as you pull your cock out.

Irene slips off, turning on her back and exposing the large amount of cum oozing out her cunt. You walk towards your pants and pull out your phone, “Let’s get a picture together, Irene.”

With Irene in the background, you snapped a few selfies, “Look at the screen.” You look at the camera and laugh, knowing that with Irene passed out, there wasn’t a way for her to respond. You continue to take a few more pictures for “memories” before noticing your cock covered in cum.

“Let’s get this thing cleaned.” You look around and notice Irene’s mouth slightly open and get an idea. You walk towards her and slowly press your cock against her lips, slowly working your way inside.

“There it is, baby, take this cock like a slut you are.” Your cock gets harder as you thrust your cock against the top of her mouth. As time passes, Irene’s mouth cleans every bit of cum off your cock. You want to take this further when you get a message from Wendy, “Let’s do this again soon.”

——

The next day, Irene wakes up nude, sore, and her head pounding, “What happened last night?”

“Unnie, breakfast is ready!”

”Coming! Give me a few minutes.”

She heads to the bathroom and notices white stains on her mouth and some on her lower region. That’s when she realizes what happened the night before, “I need to wash up.”

”Unnie, the food is going to get cold!”

“Be right there!”

She puts on a clean set of pajamas and heads to the kitchen when she hears, “Happy Birthday!”

She turns around and sees her members alongside Yeri, “Happy Birthday, Unnie!”

”Thank you.” She smiles and asks, “Who brought the cake?”

”I did. I wanted to visit last night, but the dorm manager said it was too late to leave, so I came today.”

“Thank you, Yeri. I appreciate it,” she says and hugs her.”

”Unnie, are you crying?”

”I’m just so happy.”

”Let's cut the cake; it looks yummy,” says Joy.

Wendy places a few candles and lights up the cake, “Make a wish.”

Irene closes her eyes and blows the candles, hoping she made the right choice.

#kpop smut #kpop idol smut #irene red velvet #irene smut #Irene red velvet smut #idol smut #smut reader #TM smut #the company series #company series #red velvet smut #girl idol smut #reader x idol #idol x reader #defloration idol smut #defloration smut #g idol first time smut

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dark-moonlust · 11 months ago

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Cοckwarming Minοtaur PART 1: Office

I’m turning this imagine into a series!!!!

Pairing: Minotaur x f!human reader

Summary: your Minotaur boyfriend Balen is madly in love with you. And he has a wicked little obsession with cockwarming. He always finds excuses to have you sit on his lap. Even when you are at work.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, semi-public workplace smut, Minotaur huge🍆, cοckwarming, lots of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

This is a series and you can find more here and on Patreon.

You loved your Minotaur boyfriend, Balen.

The two of you had met three years ago at a workplace friendly to both monsters and humans. Balen was your superior, and you had just started working as his secretary. From the very first meeting, you had felt something deep and strong connecting him to you. You were attracted to him, incredibly aroused and in need of him. Balen had explained that it was the mating bond, a sacred bond that tied his heart to yours. Since then, you’d decided to give your relationship a chance and be together.

Your relationship was based on mutual trust and security, a connection deeper and stronger than you’d ever experienced.

Fast forward to the present, you still loved him like crazy, your relationship never better.

Balen was a fascinating presence in your life. Despite his towering and unusual appearance, your Minotaur was tender and sweet. You saw past his different appearance and found something deep and poignant with him. He cared for you better than any human boyfriend would — and fucked you with a passion that left you breathless.

Balen was madly in love with you. And he had a wicked little obsession with cockwarming. He was obsessed with the feel of you, the security of holding you in his arms while his cock pulsed inside you. And he always found excuses to have you sit on his lap, his cock thrust up your depths as he resumed his day as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

During shopping? During work? During lunch, dinner or any time of the day. Yes to all. Balen somehow made it work.

At work, he was particularly demanding when cockwarming him. Coworkers might enter his office, but he kept you there, your neat dress hiding your flushed face and betraying your state. Sometimes he played with your clit and made you cum, other times, he just stayed inside you and made work calls and reviewed business files. And when he finally pulled out of you, it was always with the promise to find a way to be close to you later.

That morning, you were in your office working on a presentation for an important project. You’d finished it with ease and were eager to share your ideas with your boss and colleagues. As you sat at your desk, typing away at your computer, the phone rang.

Called ID: Mr. Balen - Office.

You had an idea of what this call was about.

“Hello,” you answered casually.

“Come to my office,” your boyfriend said, his voice deep and throaty. “I need to check the progress of your presentation.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You complied, standing up and making your way to his spacious office. You knocked and entered discretely.

And there he was.

Seated at his magnificent mahogany desk, the sheer size of him dwarfed the surrounding furniture. Balen’s hulking form filled the room, his presence overwhelming. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit, the clothing tailored to fit his immense size. He was at least three times bigger than you, his body chiseled with muscles and silky fur. His head was crowned with a pair of curved horns, his face a captivating combination of beast and man. Upon seeing you, his dark eyes lit up and he let out a deep rumble, vibrating from his chest.

“Come here,” he said, his voice casual but demanding.

“I’ve brought my presentation,” you said but as soon as you were inches from him, he pulled you to him, his hands lifting your dress and guiding you to sit on his lap.

“Balen,” you whined as he quickly tugged away your panties, a finger finding its way inside you. You were drenched, wet from the earlier fuck he’d given you during the car ride to work. You clutched his broad shoulders, burying your face in his chest and biting your lips as that wickedly perfect digit stretched your walls, preparing you for his cock.

Soon, you felt him shift, unzipping his trousers and freezing his monstrous cock. Your Minotaur sported a dick unlike any other. It was long and curved, thick and surrounded by protruding veins. The head was broad and leaking pre-cum, his balls round and swollen, the poor babies squeezed between his legs.

Strong hands cupped your ass, positioning you over his raging girth. The cockhead nudged your entrance, coaxing your pussy lips apart and slowly invading your depths. With a slow, deliberate upward thrust, he buried himself inside you, a low groan of satisfaction rumbling from his chest. Your belly bulged from the sheer girth of him inside you. You moaned lewdly but quickly muffled your cries by biting his shoulder. He loved it when you did that.

“So good for me. Just for a little bit, baby, okay?” he murmured, his hands resting possessively on your hips. “I need this.”

You nodded, trying to control your breathing as you adjusted to the invasion and stretch. Balen resumed his work, one large hand rubbing your ass from under your dress while the other resumed his work, moving expertly over his keyboard as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He even studied your presentation while you struggled to focus with the constant feel of his cock stretching your pussy.

“Excellent work with your presentation,” he praised, “you covered every important point.”

“Th…thank you,” you murmured, running your fingers through the exposed fur at his neck.

You wiggled a little, desperate for release and rubbed your clit against him. His hand on your ass pressed you closer against him, thrusting just barely inside you. He did it again and again, rewarding you for taking his dick so well. A few minutes later, the friction against your clit was perfect and you came, your walls contracting hard around his cock. You bit his shoulder to muffle your cries and Balen followed, releasing pump after pump of his load inside you. He was surprisingly quiet and reserved, but you knew his passion was great; his heartbeat was erratic.

“Good girl,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against you.

It was at that moment, that a coworker knocked on the door. You clutched your boyfriend, your heart racing. Balen remained calm, his hands steady as he continued to work and bid the coworker to enter. The coworker, a male werewolf, entered, used to the sight of you hugging your boyfriend and what was happening beneath your neat clothing. Everyone in the office knew of your relationship and the demands of your minotaur boyfriend. Balen had made it so everyone respected you no matter what.

Balen and the werewolf discussed business as usual, while your face flushed with the effort of maintaining composure. Balen’s cock was throbbing inside you, his seed overflowing even if he was buried balls deep inside you. Once the coworker left, Balen kissed you, his tongue brushing against your lips before thrusting into your mouth. He tasted every crevice of your mouth and then drew back, a hint of a grin on his bull face.

“You did well,” he drawled, his voice thick with pride.

“Don’t I always?” you teased sweetly.

“Always.” He pressed you closed against him, his cock kissing so deep inside you that you groaned. “I love you mate. Love your beautiful smile, your lovely heart and your pretty little pussy.”

You smiled. “I love you, too, my horny minotaur.”

“Hmmm…” he growled. “You are my everything, little mate and it seems I can’t function without you.”

“Balen…” you trailed off, winching as more of his seed tricked down your thighs. “We made a mess. Shouldn’t we—”

“It’s alright, my love,” he said. “There are clothes in the cabinet. I always keep spares for both.”

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#minotaur x reader #minotaur x human #minotaur smut #minotaur monster #minotaur x you #monster x reader #monster x you #monster fucker #monster lover #monster smut #monster x human #monster x female reader #monster boyfriend #monster fudger #monster romance #monster fuqqer #monster fic

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illdragyoudownwithme · 1 year ago

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so i was going over my frame by frame images that I have stored in my files as you do

and I decided to pay attention to raph inside these projections and I saw this

you see that?

raph gets punched in the same spot, like he has the knockback in his face as well

he felt the hit

i always imagined that the hits his projections got, he felt it the same way u would inside a vehicle if it got hit. but here it seems he feels the punch in the same spot his projection got hit.

so now imma go with he feels the pain inflicted on his projections, even the multiple ones he made during the final shredder fight

so lets look at the times raphs projections got hit and imagine Raph feeling that pain hm?

his arm got ripped off

his other arm got ripped off

dude rips off his shoulder as well like his arm wasn't enough

eesh

ok so most of my ss of raph are not of his projections

im also still collecting frames from the movie

pretty excited to finish ive noticed alot of cool stuff and a few animation errors as well

i ha ve a problem

well since im lazy to go get photos imma recall some moments

at the end of the movie raphs projection shatters after crashing when saving donnie and mikey

his arm got portal chopped

all his projections got detroyed by shreddder in the final fight and they were skewred too

uhh

while writing everything i know i had more in my head but I'm tired

yea im blanking

#rottmnt #rottmnt raph #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #nyx rant

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carawenfiction · 2 months ago

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So...remember how I said in that update post how I might MAYBE do a TSS rewrite and post it for free?

"Maybe" quickly turned into "definitely happening". Instead of making it outside of COG, however, the finished product that's already published will be updated with the rewritten files. This means that if you've already purchased TSS through COG, you'll have the rewritten version available. That's how I originally intended to go about things with the old rewrite and is the better option here to avoid potential complications.

I've been in contact with COG and they've let me know that I'd be able to do what I have in mind even if this results in a different wordcount and very different scenes/plot points and a different kind of main story.

I realize that this announcement is probably pretty jarring since my last post stated that I wasn't sure about doing a rewrite but that I wanted to if I had enough time. After making that post, I started creating an outline for the rewrite mostly for fun...and one thing kind of led to another. I want you all to know that I wouldn't be making this post at all if I wasn't sure about this. It's because I've already begun the process and feel incredibly motivated and inspired that I can do this that I'm making this announcement.

This rewrite is not going to be like my old attempt at a rewrite, though. It's an entirely new one that I feel much more confident about.

So far I've written the outline for the rewrite and started reworking already existing scenes from chapter 1 as well some new ones. I'm happy to say that the difference between how the rewrite process felt years ago compared to now is like light and day. It seems like those years I've taken away from TSS were very healthy and helpful in giving me some distance and letting me figure out what kind of story I really want to tell.

My plan is to rewrite book 1 and then make 1 full continuation after that. Instead of a trilogy, it looks like this version of TSS will be 2 volumes, but that doesn't necessarily mean that it'll be shorter than originally intended. I think it's more doable for me to rewrite the first book (starting from scratch while also using some already written scenes, since I've been assured I'm allowed to do so) and then make 1 complete continuation of it rather than trying to fill stuff out over 3 different entries, and I think it'll serve the plot and story as a whole to do it that way.

That being said, I fully understand that some - or most of you - might have trouble trusting my word after me failing to do the rewrite I wanted to years ago and not delivering a second book. That's completely fair. This time I'm not rushing things and I don't feel any pressure to do this. It's not something I do out of dislike for the original, but rather out of love for what it could be and what I could make it into, if that makes sense. I'm taking as much time as I need to and am not putting any pressure on myself to do this.

My other project takes priority right now so I can't dedicate all of my time to the rewrite, but I'm working on it when I have time over or get stuck. It's actually pretty nice to alternate between two different stories that have different settings and has helped a bit in avoiding writer's block.

Here are some differences between TSS and the TSS rewrite (most of the changes I made to the old rewrite no longer apply):

The rewrite will be told in second-person point of view ("you" instead of "I"). The reason for this is that when I first started TSS I was really unused to the second-person POV, but after having spent years in the IF space it's now the other way around. It'll make writing much easier for for me, and I hope it won't feel too jarring for people who are used to the first person POV.

The Shadowman and Jealene (now "J") will both be genderselectable just like the main cast. The Shadowman will be genderselectable later on, though - it might sound strange but I think it makes sense when you have more context. J plays a bigger role than they did in the original and their personality is a bit different in this version.

Some side characters (such as most of the hideout) will be cut. This is because they felt really underdeveloped to me in the full game and didn't serve much of a purpose. Instead I'm focusing more on the main cast + a few key characters to ensure the story plot stays focused and you get more time to develop bonds of various kinds with the main cast instead.

The relationship system will look a bit different. Instead of bars showing a percentage of approval, I'll write a description of each character and what they think of you. The descriptions will shift when the character starts viewing you differently, whether that's due to rivalry, romance or friendship. My hope is that this will allow for a more nuanced relationship system/descriptions. I'll also adjust the options a bit to try and make choices more nuanced and am thinking of including the option of having ex. a heart next to a romantic choice for those who want to know for sure what they're getting into. The different responses (such as shy, flirty etc.) will stay but some of it will probably be reworked. Essentially what I want to do is allow for a wider range of MCs and how the characters respond to the MC.

The MC is going to have more agency in certain ways. I've included something plot-relevant to the main character that can potentially change the dynamic between them and the group a bit, but it all depends on how you play it.

The tone might be somewhat different. Not entirely, of course, but there are some parts of the old TSS where the characters sound a bit younger than they are supposed to be, where tension and seriousness has been sacrificed in favor of humor and where some of the interactions aren't the way I would prefer for them to be. I've gotten older since writing TSS (gasp) and my tastes have changed, as has my writing to some degree. In order to do a rewrite I'd have to write in a way that's most enjoyable for me and that I feel best fits the story I want to tell. That's not to say that there isn't going to be silliness etc., but I'm adjusting the tone somewhat and putting more time and effort into descriptions and the writing overall.

The narrative will be different, even though the overall story itself will mostly stay the same. I'm keeping a lot of elements and also aim to introduce new ones that I believe will strengthen the story and make it a more enjoyable game overall.

I think those are the main differences I can give away right now without spoiling anything. I'll make sure to post updates when I've got more to share! Once the demo for the rewrite is finished, I'll post it on the forums and link it in an intro post on here.

Thank you all for sticking by me throughout the years. I hope you'll find some comfort in returning to this world, as well as new things to ponder and excite you in this new upcoming version of the story <3

The Azuridia and Quaiel chibis are done by the amazing madebysalfi

#the shadow society #tss #interactive fiction #update #if #carawenfiction #cog #choice of games #hosted games

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smartkookiee · 7 months ago

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How to Lose A Guy in 30 Days! || Ch.1 — jjk.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀° ❥pairing: Jungkook x Reader (she/her, afab) ❥genre/rating: strangers to lovers, 18+ ❥chapter warnings/tags: software engineer!Jungkook, writer!Reader, flirting, drinking, nothing crazy happens in this chapter tbh, idiots, have fun (I’m so excited to see what everyone says, thank you to everyone for all the love on the teaser post!) ❥word-count: 9.4k ❥Series Masterlist ❥|| Next chapter ❥Playlist fic is cross posted to ao3 - send an ask or comment on post to be added to the tag list. ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°

Day 0

“Y/N, can I see you in my office?” Yoongi’s voice cut through the ambient buzz of the office as he appeared at your cubicle. You blinked up at him, his request causing a ripple of curiosity among your surrounding coworkers, though no one dared to show it openly.

You hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing your mind. Was I in trouble? Did he hate my last research project? Your mind raced through the possibilities. Yoongi had praised your work just last week, but what if he’d changed his mind? The thought of him taking back his compliments made your stomach twist. With a sigh, you saved your work and rose to follow him. The walk to his office felt unnervingly like being summoned to the principal’s office in high school.

Though your colleagues barely glanced in your direction, the nerves still had your palms sweating. You tried to wipe them discreetly on your pants as you stepped inside his office.

Yoongi moved behind his desk with casual ease, sinking into his chair as though he hadn’t just rattled your nerves with his sudden appearance. You stood awkwardly for a moment until he waved you toward the chair in front of his desk.

“You can relax, Y/N. You’re not in trouble.” He said, his tone gentle but amused. It was clear he could feel the tension radiating off you.

“I know, I know. I’m just a worrywart. You know that.” You laughed softly, though it came out more anxious than you’d intended. “So… why did you want to see me?”

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the desk as he watched you. “I’ve have an assignment for you. Something better than your usual research work.”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued as he began rifling through the disorganized pile of files and papers littering his desk. You’d been at Composure for a while, mostly doing background research for other writers’ articles. But you’d been hoping for an opportunity to step out of the shadows, to prove yourself as more than just a behind-the-scenes contributor. Maybe this is it?

When Yoongi finally found what he was looking for, he pulled out an old magazine and dropped it in front of you with a soft thud. You glanced down at the cover, your eyes widening as you saw the issue was from 2003.

“How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days.” Yoongi said, leaning back in his chair with a knowing glint in his eyes.

You picked up the magazine and began flipping through it, skimming the pages until you found the article. A sense of familiarity washed over you—this was one of those interesting pieces people still whispered about around the office. “I’m confused.”

“This piece was a massive hit when it came out.” He explained, lacing his fingers together as he leaned back. “Lana, one of the higher-ups, was the editor at the time this particular piece came out. She brought it up recently, said she thinks it’s time for something like this to make a comeback.”

“You want me to do this?” You asked, still reeling from the audacity of the concept. You skimmed through the details, noting the original author, Andy. She had gone to extreme lengths to sabotage a relationship for the sake of the article. You couldn’t help but cringe at some of the tactics she’d employed.

“Not exactly.” Yoongi replied with a small chuckle. “The feedback back then was that the whole experiment felt a bit too unrealistic. Readers loved it and it was a funny read, but many thought they don’t do things this intense. Lana’s idea was to take the same concept, but… stretch it out.”

“Stretch it out?” You echoed, still trying to wrap your head around the idea.

“Yeah. Ten days is too quick for something like this. We want to make it feel more genuine. Instead of a mad dash to drive the guy away, we want to see what happens over a longer period. A month, maybe two. Let the tension build naturally.”

You leaned back in your chair, letting the idea swirl around in your head. It was ambitious, maybe even a bit reckless, but there was no denying it would be a challenge.. “So… you want me to date someone and—what? Subtly sabotage it over time?”

“Exactly. Actually date but do all the classic early relationship mistakes.” Yoongi explained, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of the concept. “It’s an experiment in human behavior, relationships, and how much people are willing to overlook.”

“So like talking about something personal way too fast, or inviting yourself into their life way too quickly and then write about it?” You prattled on a bit, it was picking at the ideas in your brain in the right way.

Yoongi smiled, clearly pleased with your interest. “I brought this to you because you have more than proven yourself here. You’ve been doing excellent research, and I want to see how you handle something of this scale. Especially because this would be a feature piece.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the compliment, but there was still a question gnawing at you. “I’m glad you are trusting me with something like this, especially with such a high-profile piece. But… I have to ask, sir—why do you think I’m the right person for this?”

Yoongi leaned forward slightly, his expression more thoughtful. “Because I want to challenge you. I like your research and I like how you write, you understand the people who read our columns on a deeper level. I think you have more in you. I want to see if you can handle something outside of your comfort zone.” His voice softened, but the weight of his words wasn’t lost on you. “And after something like this, I’d be more than happy to move you on to bigger and better pieces.”

The subtle hint of a promotion sent a jolt of excitement through you. “Really?”

“Really.” Yoongi confirmed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

It was all you could do to keep the excitement from bubbling over. An actual writing assignment, something that could elevate your standing in the magazine, was exactly what you had been waiting for.

“I don’t even know what to say other than thank you.”

You fidget with the magazine in your hands, resisting the urge to curl the edges. Your mind raced, trying to think of what a realistic timeline for the piece could look like—something ambitious, but doable.

“How about… How to Lose a Guy in Thirty Days ? A longer timeline, more idealistic. A month in is usually when new relationships start to fall apart. It’s after the initial getting-to-know-someone phase.” You suggest, throwing the idea out there, hoping Yoongi would take the bait.

“Thirty days, huh?” He raises an eyebrow, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “You sure you’re up for it?”

“Yes, sir.” You nod, your confidence building as you think about the possibilities.

“Good.” Yoongi replies, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. “Let’s start on Monday, after we get through this print run. That gives you a few days to find the poor guy.”

“Right. Thank you, Mr. Min.” You stand up, your heart racing as you try to play it cool. But as soon as you exit his office, you can barely contain your excitement.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” You mutter under your breath as you rush to your desk. Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you start jotting down notes, pulling out sticky notes and scribbling ideas, trying to organize your thoughts.

Ronnie, sitting in the neighboring cubicle, leans back to peer around the divider, noticing your frenzied state. She rolls her chair into your space, sliding up next to you with a curious look.

“What’s got you in such a hurry?” She asks, raising an eyebrow as she watches you type furiously. A laugh escapes her when she sees the pen stuck in your mouth and the growing pile of sticky notes attached to the old magazine.

“I gob a columb.” You mumble through the pen, barely pausing your typing.

Ronnie plucks the pen from your mouth. “Try that again.”

“I’m writing my first column.” You repeat, finally turning to face her, your excitement breaking through.

“No way!” Ronnie stands, her voice a little too loud, drawing a few glances from nearby desks. She sits back down and grabs your shoulders. “That’s so awesome! Your first column! What’s it going to be about?”

You hand her the magazine, pointing to the title. “This.”

“How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days?” She raises her eyebrows in surprise, flipping through the article. “You’re seriously going to do this?”

“Well, not exactly the same.” You say with a grin, watching as she reads through the outlandish tactics in the original piece. “Just similar.”

Ronnie’s eyes widen as she reaches some of the more extreme parts of the article. “Okay, this is crazy, all the things this girl did to this guy. Oh my god.” She rocked in disbelief, continuing the read through. “Awe, ends bittersweet though.”

“It’s going to be How to Lose A Guy in Thirty Days this time.”

“A month?” She laughs and shakes her head, you give her a confused look.

“What? I can do this!” You bump her shoulder.

“Do what?” Namjoon strolls into your cubical looking between the both of you.

“Kid got her first column.” Ronnie sings she has a proud grin on her face. You spin around to look at Namjoon.

His face lights up at the news, “That’s so awesome! Congrats!” He rubs your hair messing it up, you bat his hands away smoothing out your hair.

“Thanks Joon.”

“What’s it on?” Namjoon leans against your desk along side Ronnie.

Ronnie hands him the magazine flipped open to the article. He takes it and examines it for a moment, he reads along and his eyes widen at times. You continue scribbling down some thoughts while he does this. Namjoon was a silent reader but would always share his full thoughts when he was done.

“Woah, this is wild.” Namjoon flips back to the beginning of the article, like he had to read it over again.

“I know the original one is a little insane but we are doing it differently this time.” You explain, Namjoon had concern written all over his face reading through the article again.

“Quote, ‘after five days I decided to go ahead and take things to the next level between us. I completely redecorate his apartment with pink attire and stuffed animals everywhere.” Namjoon reads the section out loud. “She only knew him for five days?”

You nod, “I don’t know how she was so brave to do all of that. Luckily Yoongi said I don’t have to be as extreme as this. Just more casually clingy and needy, do small things that most people think are normal but seem to send guys running before anything serious can begin.”

“Yeah, I definitely hope you don’t end up ‘photoshopping your baby pictures together.’” Ronnie adds with a grin.

You laugh, shaking your head. “God, no. I’d sooner die of embarrassment. I don’t have the energy for that level of crazy.”

Namjoon leans back in his chair, one eyebrow raised in slight concern. “So, what is the plan then? You’ve got something in mind, right?”

You sigh dramatically. “Not sure yet. I’ve got until Monday to find a guy and come up with some sort of idea of how I want to do this.”

“Oh, can we help?” Ronnie’s eyes light up as she bounces in her chair, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Help find the guy?”

“Obviously, and with the torture.” She adds, looking way too enthusiastic.

“I’m not torturing him.” You chuckle, “just… irritating him a little. You know, for research purposes.”

“Uh-huh.” Namjoon’s teasing grin softens as he looks at you, a hint of doubt creeping in. “But are you really sure you can do this, like… casually?”

You blink at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, come on.” Namjoon says with a snort, gesturing vaguely at you. “You wear your heart in a pink, sparkly basket for everyone to see. Are you sure you won’t fall for the poor guy instead?”

“I don’t do that! And I will not!” You protest, but Namjoon and Ronnie exchange a look that screams they definitely think you do.

“I’ve never seen you not get your hopes up after a date or two.” Ronnie says, shrugging sympathetically.

“Well, this time will be different.” You say, folding your arms defiantly. “It’s just business. I have to get the guy to break up with me anyway.”

They weren’t wrong, though, and you know it. You’ve always been one of those people who swoon at love songs and daydream about movie-perfect endings. You were the exact type of person this article was written for in the first place. You did get attached too quickly and were getting hurt too often. But this? This was just an assignment. A game. You wouldn’t get hurt if you knew it had to end from the start.

“You’ll see.” You add with more confidence, determined to prove them wrong.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Ronnie teases, rolling her chair back toward her desk. It was well past time for her to get to her own work.

Namjoon shakes his head with a chuckle. “Good luck to this guy, I guess.” He mutters, though there’s warmth in his voice. He’s seen you get your hopes up too many times to believe you could really keep things casual.

But this time, you were determined. No expectations. No daydreaming. It was all just work.

Across town, though, someone else was perfectly content with his easygoing, no-strings-attached lifestyle. Jungkook, waking up in someone else’s bed was just another morning for him. He opened his eyes but was blinded by the morning light. He rolled over and looked around, he had no idea where he was. Memories of last night vaguely coming back to the front of his mind.

He looks over to see a sleeping girl in the same bed. He stands from the bed and manages to find his phone. Seeing the time.

“Shit.” He rushes to find his scattered items and puts his clothes back on. Tip toeing his way around the room and manages to get out the front door without a fuss.

Getting out of the building, Jungkook blinked as the morning sun hit him square in the face. He rubbed his eyes, still groggy from a less-than-restful sleep. Scanning the unfamiliar streets, he had no idea what neighborhood he was in, but that was par for the course these days. He pulled out his phone and called for an Uber, slipping his sunglasses on as he waited.

Another late night, another random bed. This wasn’t exactly new territory, but he couldn’t help feeling off. Normally, Thursdays were a quiet night in, but when Jimin and Taehyung wanted to go out, Jungkook wasn’t about to turn them down. And, as always, the night had ended the way it usually did for him—blurry and chaotic.

By the time Jungkook made it to the office, it was later than he would normally prefer to arrive. Slipping through the doors, he did his best to avoid attention although Hoseok’s keen eyes were already tracking him. Jungkook tried to get settled quietly, but it was pointless. Hoseok’s desk, conveniently right next to his, made stealth impossible.

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Hoseok sang, swiveling in his chair to grin at Jungkook. He tapped a few keys on his keyboard, then gave Jungkook an exaggerated once-over. “Did you lose a bet, or is that last night’s shirt?”

Jungkook smirked as he slid into his seat. “Hey, I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, but in yesterday’s clothes. What’d you do? Roll straight from the bar to your desk?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow, clicking away on his mouse as he pulled up their latest coding project.

“Pretty much.” Jungkook admitted, booting up his own computer. “I’ll head home at lunch and change. No one cares what I wear to debug.”

Hoseok shook his head with a laugh. “You’re gonna blind the clients with your wrinkled t-shirts one of these days.”

“Fair enough.” Jungkook chuckled, typing in his password. “But I’m still better at the code reviews, so they can’t complain too much.”

Hoseok conceded with a nod, leaning back in his chair. “Rough night?”

Jungkook rubbed the back of his neck. “You could say that. Taehyung and Jimin were relentless. Didn’t stop until the bar kicked us out.”

“Ah, classic.” Hoseok said with a grin. “They never know when to quit.”

Jungkook smirked, though he felt the exhaustion settling in his bones. “They’ve got energy for days, man. But, hey, what about tonight? You in?”

Hoseok hesitated, glancing at the lines of code on his screen before looking back at Jungkook. “Again? You don’t look like you’re dying to go out tonight.”

Jungkook chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “I mean, I’m wrecked, but you know I’m down. Someone’s gotta keep Taehyung from getting us banned from another bar.”

Hoseok shook his head, clearly amused. “I dunno, man. I might actually take it easy tonight. Jimin’s been texting like he’s planning another big one, and I don’t know if I’ve got the energy to babysit.”

“You? Too tired to party?” Jungkook teased, raising an eyebrow. “Weren’t you just complaining last week that we only go out when you’re drowning in deadlines?”

“I didn’t say I’m backing out.” Hoseok defended, though his reluctance was obvious. “I’m just... thinking about it.”

“Thinking about it, my ass. You’ll be there. I’ll text Jimin, tell him to go easy on the plans.” Jungkook turned back to his monitor, his fingers flying over the keys as he opened the project files for their current assignment.

Hoseok chuckled. “Yeah, alright. But if I show up and Taehyung’s dancing on tables again, I’m leaving early.”

“Deal.” Jungkook said with a grin.

Then Hoseok’s smirk deepened, and he shot a glance at Jungkook. “By the way, has she called you yet?”

Jungkook frowned, glancing sideways. “Who?”

“Channel. She’s been texting me . Again.” Hoseok’s grin turned into a mock look of annoyance. “Seriously, bro, how is she still hitting me up to ask about you? You need to fix that.”

Jungkook groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I thought I made it clear we’re done.”

“Well, apparently she didn’t get the memo. She asked me yesterday if you were ‘okay,’ like I’m your personal messenger or something.”

Jungkook sighed, his fingers stilling on his keyboard. “I haven’t heard from her in weeks. She’s probably fishing for info, trying to get back in touch. She wanted something serious, and I was always upfront about keeping it casual.”

Hoseok raised an eyebrow. “And she didn’t take that well?”

“She acted like she understood, but... yeah, not really. I broke it off before things got messy.” Jungkook sighed. “Now she’s bugging you instead.”

“Lucky me.” Hoseok muttered. “She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. But seriously, dude, she’s asking me if you’re, like, in a dark place or something. I think she’s hoping for a window to swoop back in.”

Jungkook groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Tell her I’ve joined a monastery.”

Hoseok laughed. “Sure, I’ll let her know you’ve taken a vow of silence and reflection.”

The rest of the morning flew by in a blur of coding and testing modules. By the time lunch rolled around, Jungkook had managed to convince Jimin to keep the plans for the night low-key—just a few drinks at a bar they liked. Hoseok seemed more on board with the promise of a relaxed evening, and Jungkook was glad. As much as he loved the chaos, even he was feeling the need for something calmer.

When they arrived at the bar that evening, it was more crowded than they’d expected. The hum of conversation, laughter, and clinking glasses filled the air, and the warmth of bodies packed in tight hit them as they wove their way through the crowd.

“So much for a quiet night.” Hoseok muttered, dodging a couple who were clearly several drinks in.

Jungkook grinned, nudging him. “Come on, it’s Friday. What did you expect?”

“Less people and more chairs.” Hoseok replied, though the grin on his face said he wasn’t too upset about it.

Jungkook laughed, scanning the bar for a spot to settle in. Despite his earlier exhaustion, he could feel the pull of another night out with his friends, the familiar buzz of energy creeping in. There was something about the chaos of it all that he couldn’t resist.

“Over here!” Jimin’s voice cut through the noise, his arm waving above the sea of people as he flagged them down. He and Taehyung had already secured a table in the corner.

Jungkook and Hoseok exchanged a glance before making their way over, dodging elbows and weaving past groups of friends clustered around the bar. As they reached the table and took their seats, Hoseok let out a deep sigh.

“Jesus, there are so many people here tonight.” He muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe I should have stayed home.”

Jimin smirked, leaning back in his chair with his drink in hand. “Aww, come on. It’s been forever since we’ve been out together.”

Jungkook chuckled, patting Hoseok on the shoulder. “It was definitely a struggle convincing him to come tonight.”

Hoseok held up his hands in surrender, a playful grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “Hey, I was promised a chill night with some drinks. That’s my kind of Friday night.”

Before anyone could say more, Taehyung appeared at the table, balancing a tray of drinks with ease. “Here you go, gentlemen.” He said, passing them around with a flourish.

A round of thank-yous followed as each of the guys took their drinks. Jungkook took a long sip, letting the cool, bitter taste of his beer settle on his tongue as he leaned back in his chair, finally starting to relax.

“So,” Taehyung said after a moment, turning to Jungkook with a curious smile, “where did you disappear last night, man?”

Jungkook barely had time to respond before Jimin interjected, his tone teasing. “Where do you think he ran off to?” Jimin wiggled his eyebrows in fake suspicion.

The grin on his face made it clear he was referring to Jungkook’s extracurricular activities.

Taehyung snickered, shaking his head. “Oh, I see. Anything to tell? Did you find the love of your life?” His voice was full of amusement as he took another sip of his drink.

Hoseok snorted, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, right.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes playfully, tipping his head in Hoseok’s direction. “Hey, you never know.”

“Sure.” Hoseok said with a laugh, bumping Jungkook’s shoulder. “I’m sure she felt some kind of deep connection.”

Jimin waved a hand in Hoseok’s direction, dismissing him with a grin. “Leave him alone.”

But Hoseok wasn’t ready to let it go just yet. He shrugged, glancing around the table. “I mean, as long as I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him be serious with someone.”

Jungkook felt the familiar twist in his gut at the comment but didn’t let it show. It wasn’t that he didn’t want something serious—it just hadn’t happened in years. He took another sip of his beer, trying to brush off the remark. He had become somewhat comfortable in his solace and easy hook ups. Last thing he had to something serious was what he had with Channel, and that wasn’t even hardly serious.

Broke it off because she changed her mind about what she was wanting from him, Jungkook just really didn’t see a future with her and had always made his feelings about their relationship clear. He really came off looking like a dick but he didn’t want to drag her along. He didn’t want to drag anyone along.

“I can be serious when I want to be.” Jungkook took another sip of his beer.

“Yeah for like a day.” Taehyung teases.

“Not even, more like an afternoon.” Jimin jumps on him with a laugh.

“Try thirty minutes!” Hoseok adds on to the end before Jungkook waves them all of.

“Thirty minutes?” He raised an eyebrow, “Give me more credit than that.”

“Fine, thirty-one.” Taehyung added on with another laugh.

“Whatever,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Make your jokes but I don’t see any of you pulling in any serious relationships these days.” Jungkook points the top of his bottle around the group.

“Hey, I have a date next week I’ll have you know!” Hoseok protests.

“This isn’t about us though, this is about you.” Jimin sits back in his chair.

“What about me?”

“You’re not a relationship guy.” Taehyung sipped his beer.

“I’m comfortable by myself.” Jungkook crossed his arms.

“Nothing wrong with it, I just doubt you could ever be serious with someone.” Jimin shrugs.

“I’d be a better boyfriend than you .” Jungkook kicks Jimin's leg under the table.

“Yeah maybe when you’re fifty and decide it’s time to settle down.” Taehyung gives Jungkook a smirk.

“No way, I bet I could be a better boyfriend than all three of you.” Jungkook was getting too serious and Jimin and Taehyug smelt a challenge in the air.

“Wanna bet on it?” Jimin cocks his head to the side. It wasn’t unlike the three of them to make bets and they were always stupid.

“Aren’t we a little too old for bets?” Hoseok looks between the guys but he could already tell once Jimin raised the question, Jungkook was already locked into the idea.

“What are you thinking?” Jungkook leans his elbows on the table.

“I will bet a hundred dollars, that you couldn’t keep a girlfriend for more than two weeks.” Jimin states and Jungkook almost feels insulted.

“Come on, I can do better than that.” Jungkook goats Jimin, Jimin looks at Taehyung.

“I’ll buy in. 200 bucks.” Tahyung jumps on it.

“You guys are morons.” Hoseok shakes his head, Jungkook was up for the challenge but two weeks was insulting.

“No, I can keep a partner around for way longer than two weeks. Come on.”

“Okay, how about a month. We’ll make it 300 bucks if you can stay with the same girl for one month.” Jimin jumps on it, between him and Taehyung they would only be out one fifty each.

“But we get to pick who it is.” Taehyung quickly tacts on that little stipulation.

“What? No fair.” Jungkook pouts.

“ Totally fair. Hobi weigh in on this.” Jimin nods his head to Hoseok who was hoping to stay invisible but it seems he has been brought on as the referee.

“I guess it makes sense, if you pick the girl it makes it too easy for you to win.” Hoseok logics it out but this definitely wasn’t starting to feel fair.

“Ugh fine.” Jungkook groaned, Jimin had extended his hand for a shake, Jungkook took it and they shook on the deal.

“Again, idiots.” Hoseok knew this was probably going to crash and burn and Jungkook would be out three hundred bucks. Jungkook was feeling very confident though and perhaps a little too competitive. He felt sure he could sucker these two out of three hundred bucks. As well as get to hang out with a pretty girl for a while. Putting on all of his best charm.

“So when do we start?” Jungkook looks between them.

“How about right now?” Jimin taps his glass.

While that played out, across the same bar, you were sitting at a booth with your friends.

Catching Jin up on your new promotion at work and your upcoming column to be. The bar was buzzing with life, the noise blending into a background hum as you spoke, but you could feel the excitement rising between you all.

“No way.” Jin’s face lit up as he scanned the photos of the old magazine article on your phone. You had snapped a few pictures to give him the full story, and now he was reading it with wide eyes, barely containing his amusement.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” Ronnie took a long sip of her cocktail, her expression still skeptical. She shook her head as if she still couldn’t wrap her mind around what you were planning. “I mean, I seriously can’t believe you’re going to go through with this.”

“Look,” You began defensively, though a smile tugged at your lips, “I know it’s a little out there, but Yoongi really thinks I can do this. He has his full faith in me.”

It was true. Despite the fact that this assignment would push you far outside of your comfort zone, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of excitement and determination. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you were confident you could handle it.

Jin, still holding your phone, read aloud with a dramatic flair: “ A friend of mine made a good point that I shouldn’t allow him to have a boys’ night, so I decided to get a key from his landlord to interrupt their game night! ” He glanced up with an incredulous look. “She really got a key from his landlord? That’s insane!”

You snatched your phone back, eyes wide. “Okay, I’m not doing that!” You exclaimed, shaking your head. “I’m just going to be clingy, needy. I’m not breaking into anyone’s house!”

“Good for her, honestly.” Namjoon chimed in, cracking open a peanut from the bowl in front of him. “The guy she picked probably deserved it.”

Ronnie nudged him with her elbow. “Didn’t you read the end? She ended up falling in love with him! Realized she was wrong and that he didn’t deserve all that treatment.” Ronnie leaned back in her chair, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Classic.”

“Of course, she did.” Jin chuckled, taking another sip of his beer. His eyes flicked back to you, a teasing grin spreading across his face. “That’s totally going to be you.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I will not.”

“Please,” Jin said, laughing. “you’re such a gooey romantic. You fall in love so easily.”

Namjoon and Ronnie exchanged knowing glances, both trying—and failing—not to laugh. They knew better than anyone how quickly you could get swept up in a whirlwind of emotions. It wasn’t that you were naive, just hopelessly, undeniably romantic. And they were somewhat concerned about how this whole assignment might play out.

“Look, this is a professional column.” You said, crossing your arms defensively. “It’s not like I’m actually looking for anything serious. I just have to scare him off. That’s it.”

“Either that or he will be on bended knee by the end of it.” Namjoon teased.

“Very funny. That’s why I have you guys here though, help me pick someone.” You really did want some help on this part. If you got help picking the guy then maybe you could pick someone who it would be easy to let go of.

“How so?” Ronnie tilted her head at your request.

“Well knowing my luck I would accidentally pick a guy who is totally perfect for me and I really won’t be able to go through with it. If you guys pick then you could objectively find someone who is someone I would never go for.” You clap your hands together, hoping your explanation is enough.

“Oh I’m so in.” Jin rests his chin on his hands. “Plus this bar is packed, we could easily find someone tonight.”

“Well we won’t find him sitting here. Let’s go fish.” Ronnie stands from her seat offering a hand to you, Jin following close behind. The three of you taking a turn about the bar, making observations at some of the different groups that were here.

“Let’s see.” Ronnie taps her lips with her pointer finger and glances about the room as the three of you search from person to person. “Okay, guy at the bar. Sweater, cheesy and obviously cheap silver necklace.”

You and Jin both take a glance over to him, he seemed to be here alone. Looked nice enough, maybe a good choice. He seemed like a jock type, looked like he was trying with his looks a little too hard. You were considering it before Jin shook his head.

“Not him, hes rubbed his ring finger like four times.” Jin points, just at that moment the guy does it again, “He’s either married or just got divorced and looking for another wife. Next!”

“Touche.” You agree and the three of you glance around again. “Okay, how about that guy?”

You point to a small group of guys who seemed way deep into a game of pool. One of the guys sinks a cool shot into one of the pockets and he and another guy cheer too loudly, you were far away and you could still hear them. He looked like he was about to break his pool stick from excitement.

“Nevermind. Way too intense.” It would have been a good choice but you would probably end up dumping him before you could get any work done.

The three of you run through a few more guys as you walk around, all three of you seemed to find some reason to veto them again and again. Some were too close to your type and some were just too annoying for you to be able to stand them long enough to keep this ruse up.

“God slim pickings tonight.” You were getting exhausted. You were considering heading back to Namjoon at the table and conceding for the night. Maybe sleep it off and try again at another bar tomorrow.

“We can do this.” Ronnie cheers trying to keep your spirits high. “This guy is here, I just know it.” She had had more to drink at this point, she's a pretty energetic drunk.

“I agree. No throwing in the towel yet.” Jin scans the room again, you guys had moved to many different spots and more people had moved in and out of the bar at this point.

Jin looked around from guy to guy. Jin came this bar a lot so he had a general sense of the people who were new and the people who frequented here often. He wasn’t sure himself who would work for this, they had to be the perfect combination of nice enough to stick it out but still a playboy or asshole enough that you wouldn’t fall for them. Someone who maybe deserved a little bit of torture. Someone who needed a little due karma.

He waited for a moment, maybe all three of you just needed to let the guy reveal himself. Before Jin thought it was hopeless was just when he got exactly what he asked for.

Jungkook was making his way over to the bar.

“Bingo.” Jin whispered. Jungkook had left the table with his friends, the booth was tucked away in the corner so it was no wonder he didn't notice them before. “That’s the guy.”

“Who?” You ask and then Jin points his finger, tracking Jungkook to the end of the bar. You watched him order from the bartender and then casually wait for a moment.

“He’s perfect.” Jin was confident.

“He’s cute?” Ronnie nods, Jin rolling his eyes at her. “What am I wrong?”

He was very cute you thought, he sported this leather jacket and dark jean look. Large boots, it wasn’t your usually clean cut look that you enjoyed but you understood the appeal of it.

“Okay why him?” You ask looking at Jin.

“I’ve seen him here a lot. Always comes with a group of friends, but he never leaves alone. Never the same girl twice. I thought he stopped coming around, but nope. Looks like he’s still at it. His name’s something like Jungkook.” Jin places both hands on your shoulders, looking you dead in the eye. “Total Casanova. Leaves behind a trail of broken hearts.”

Ronnie raises an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t that make it harder to keep him around for thirty days?”

“Not necessarily,” You say, the wheels turning in your head. “I just need him to dump me within thirty days. He doesn’t have to stick around for all thirty.”

“Longest I saw him entertain a girl for was maybe two weeks? That’s exactly what you need.” Jin shakes your shoulders and you laugh at the movement, almost dizzy after your two drinks.

A playboy type who can’t commit for more than two weeks. It was exactly what you needed, and lucky for you you wouldn’t need to feel bad about maybe annoying him too much. You needed him to dump you no matter what. Could be fun after all, messing with a guy who is a fuckboy that Jin has seen around could be almost a perfect karma for this guy.

“Perfect.” You say with a sly smile as you watch him walk back to his group balancing a few drinks in his arms along the way.

Jungkook managed to set the drinks down gently, “Here you go boys.”

He passed the drinks outs but Jimin and Taehyung were deliberating about something. Jungkook looked between them and looked to Hobi for confirmation. Hoseok wasn’t totally sure what their hushed conversation was about.

“I don’t know, seems like he could make that work too well.” Jungkook could barely make out the sentence coming from Tae.

“No it has to be someone like that.” Jimin adds on and then they both seem to come to some silent agreement. Both sitting up straight in their spots.

“What are you two whispering about?” Jungkook breaks the silence and they both have big grins on their faces, Taehyung is looking over the back of the booth to the bar.

“Okay, we have made a decision.” Jimin puts on an announcer voice, holding his glass like a microphone.

“You picked someone? Already?” Jungkook was surprised they had come to an agreement on this so quickly.

Taehyung looks back to Jungkook and nods, “Over there, short maroon dress. Waiting at the bar. Has a tall guy and another girl, dark hair and black dress with her.” Taehyung points and Jungkook looks.

It takes him a moment, but then he spots you, mid-laugh about something with your friends. A small smile tugs at his lips—you were undeniably cute. There’s something polished about the way you’ve styled yourself, striking a balance between playful and sophisticated. To Jungkook, though, you scream commitment. Your look isn’t meant to turn heads; it’s just confident. It’s a stark contrast to the more overtly flirty, bold style he usually goes for. That makes him curious—why would Jimin and Taehyung pick someone who seems so... relationship-minded?

“Her really?” He looked back at both of them. “Do you want to just hand me the three hundred dollars now?”

“I know you think it will be easy, but that is the type of girl who wants marriage . I think her need for a commitment is going to send you running.” Jimin rubs his hands together evilly.

Jungkook looks back to you again, thinking. Jungkook felt like he could very well be committed, he could do it probably better than most people. He just hasn’t wanted to or hasn’t had the time too.

“I will be Mr. Marriage Material from here on out.” Jungkook downs the rest of his beer, “Be ready to put your money where your mouth is.”

Jungkook stands up and leaves the table, they watch him go to work. Taehyung was now nervous and Hoseok was not even sure what he was watching anymore. Also confused by Jimin's choice.

“Okay, I gotta say he has a point.” Hoseok leans back to Jimin.

“Yeah now I’m kind of nervous.” Taehyung rubbed his neck, watching Jungkook who was waiting for an opportunity to maybe get a chance encounter with you. The two friends hovering around you weren’t making it easy.

“Trust me. I’ve seen that girl here before.” Jimin smiles.

“Do you know her?” Hoseok raised an eyebrow to him, now even more curious.

“Not at all, but I tried hitting on her once. Very sweet, turned me down though. Seriously, the moment I walked up she read me like an open book.” This was earlier this year and Jimin didn’t care, he had some personal things going on and did it on a whim. You immediately saw through his tactics and called him out on it.

“What did she do?” Taehyung became nervous.

“I tried hitting her with a line, and she just looked at me and laughed. Honestly, I might’ve been offended if she hadn’t been so sweet about it. She even apologized! Said she could tell I wasn’t serious. Sent me on my way before I could even react. I swear, I was a little dizzy afterward.”

“Oh wow.” Hoseok is putting the pieces together now. “Okay, I see, so she is going to see through Jungkook right away.”

“Exactly.” Jimin raises his glass, “If he gives off even a whiff of insincerity. She won’t give him the time of day. She very clearly wants someone who is into the long term relationship game and Jungkook… never will be.”

“So you’re not concerned, not even a little bit?” Taehyung asks one more time.

“Not even slightly.” Jimin clinked his glass against Taehyungs.

“So how is this going to work?” Ronnie looks between you and Jin.

“I’m not sure. What else do you know about him?” You look to Jin for advice on this. You came here sometimes but you weren’t as much of a frequent flier as Jin.

“Hmm, unfortunately I usually see him hit on girls who are… obviously here for something casual.” He gestures towards another girl at the bar, she was dressed very differently than you were. More revealing, nothing wrong with that but it was starkly different to your look.

“So maybe it's a lost cause?” You frown.

“Absolutely not.” Ronnie protested waving her hand back and forth.

“Just means you might have to be the bold one. Instead of him coming to you, you go after him.” Jin nodded and rubbed his chin.

You stifled a laugh, “Yeah right.” Not like you couldn’t approach someone but it was still nerve racking. “I can’t do that.”

“It’ll be so easy. Look he’s already coming over to the bar.” Ronnie nodded her head in his direction very subtly. You take a look from the corner of your eye and it was true. You turned your head pretending to see something else but catching a glance at him standing at the end of the bar, waiting.

Jungkook sees you look his direction and pretends to be occupied with something else.

“Okay well if this is going to work, shew.” You wave your hands for the both of them to head back to the table, you take an empty spot in front of the bar.

“Do you really think she can go up to him?” Ronnie nudged Jin, both of them push their way back to the table where Namjoon had been waiting.

“Definitely. Well… normally I’d say no but she’s so determined I think she can pull it off.” Jin looks back at you ordering another drink.

Once they both make it back to the table Namjoon takes notice, “Did she find someone?”

“Yes, he’s so cute.” Ronnie gushes.

“Too bad she has to get rid of him.” Jin shrugs as they all take their places and watch you from afar.

“I know.” Ronnie sighs.

“So what’s the plan?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow.

“She’s working up the courage to go up to him. I’ve seen the guy around before and he’s not really into her type. So she has to be bold.” Jin explains again, he looks over to Jungkook.

Jin takes notice that Jungkook has already noticed you. He finds it odd for a moment before he sees Jungkook start to move.

“Unless…” Jin starts.

“Oh looks like he’s making a move.” Hoseok gestures over to Jungkook. He pushes himself off the end of the bar to start moving to you but gets cut off by a group moving close to the bar.

“Let the games begin.” Jimin raises his glass. “We might make our money tonight.”

“Cross our fingers.” Taehyung chuckles and takes a sip of his drink.

“If he doesn’t blow smoke out of his ass you guys might be in for a long month.” Hoseok tilts his head watching Jungkook try to maneuver his way over to you. You were just barely getting a drink from the bartender.

From their end of the bar, your friends could see it happening in real time—Jungkook making his way toward you, not without some difficulty from the proximity of other people. They couldn’t help but laugh at his struggle.

“God, he’s like a moth to a flame.” Jin chuckled, crossing his arms. “Poor guy doesn’t even know what's going to happen.”

“Doubt it.” Ronnie added, leaning forward. “Y/N’s got this in the bag. He won’t know what hit him.”

Meanwhile, you weren’t so convinced that Jungkook was actually coming for you . After all, the girl beside you fit the typical type he seemed to gravitate toward—flirty, dressed to kill, and definitely giving him the look. Still, you had a plan brewing in your mind. If he wasn’t going to make the first move, you’d force his hand.

With a slight pivot on your heel right as he came up, you forced your shoulder into his chest. Just enough to stumble.

“Oh my god.” You gasp, steadying your drink that had split on your hand, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t spill on you did I?”

Jungkook’s initial reaction was a mix of surprise and awkward laughter. “Hey, no problem,” He said, chuckling. “Just missed the splash zone.”

“I swear I have two left feet these days.” You tuck some of your hair behind your ear. Faking your embarrassment, setting your drink down and getting a napkin.

“Well it’s a good thing I have two right feet.” Jungkook easing the tension and you laugh under your breath.

“You always this quick to recover?” You tilted your head, offering him your hand—the one free of any cocktail spillage. “I’m Y/N.”

“Jungkook.” He took your hand with a grin, his gaze flickering over you like he was sizing up a challenge. He didn’t let go right away.

Now that he was closer, you could really take him in. He was infuriatingly attractive—the type you’d usually avoid for your own good. The type who knew he had an edge and knew how to use it.

Now that Jungkook could get a closer look at you, he just thought that you were pretty. Pretty hair, eyes, lips. All of you was just pretty and sweet. Could see that pink glowing heart of yours on your sleeve.

“What brings you here?” He leaned an arm against the bar, his stance casual yet deliberate, like he was marking his territory. His gaze pinned you down, leaving you no room to escape.

“Just out with friends, a celebration of sorts.” You turn and point to them, the three of them suddenly acting like their drinks were so interesting to look at.

“What’s the occasion?” He didn’t even glance at them; his focus was still fully on you. The intense eye contact actually makes you nervous.

“My promotion.” Smiling like it was the full truth. Or rather, the promotion standing right in front of you.

He nodded, flashing a grin. “Congrats. Big deal?”

“Very big.” You rested your hand on the bar near his, just brushing the surface between you. “What about you? Out celebrating something too?”

“Just out with friends.” Jungkook gestured back to his own group at the other end of the bar. You followed his gaze, recognizing one of the guys, though you couldn’t place from where.

“I should let you get back to them.” You teased lightly, leaning ever so slightly away from him.

He tilted his head with a grin, clearly not interested in letting you go that easily. “Why rush? I wasn’t planning to be gone long, but then I got the wind knocked out of me.”

You smirked, feeling the heat of his gaze on you as you playfully patted your shoulder. “Just practicing for my football career.”

“Not a football fan but I’d watch those games.” Jungkook was going to make some form of physical contact, which is what he would have done by now but he held back. He could tell that’s not something you would appreciate. “Let me buy you another one. Since you lost half of the that one because of me.”

“That’s very sweet.” You wanted to test the limits you had with him here, would he chase you? “But I should get back. My friends may think I ran off.”

“So soon?” He tilted his head at your sudden retreat.

“You seem nice.” You start and lean close, “I think I’m just looking for something… more serious.”

“Who's to say I’m not serious?” He gives you a puzzled expression. Jungkook had done so good with women lately that it felt strange to see such a sudden retraction.

You tilted your head, a teasing smile playing at your lips. “I’ve seen you around. I know your type.”

A lie. Considering you hadn’t seen him before tonight, you wanted to see if he would bite.

“So you’ve noticed me?” He stuck his tongue into the side of his cheek.

“I’m just saying I know your type.”

“What if I am serious? You’d be running away before you could find out.” He flirted, a boyish grin on his face that dripped confidence. He was actually nervous, and the three hundred dollar bill hanging over his head was adding some pressure.

You giggled, leaning back slightly as you took a slow sip of your drink, eyes locked on his over the rim. “You don’t strike me to be serious about much of anything.”

His gaze flicked to your lips before returning to your eyes, his voice softer now, “What if I want to prove you wrong?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Prove me wrong? You barely know me.”

He smirked, stepping a little closer, just enough to make the air between you crackle with tension. “Isn’t that half the fun? Getting to know someone new?”

“What makes you think I want to get to know you?”

“Call it intuition.”

Any other time, a guy like this coming up to you would have meant an immediate shut down from you. They were never serious, and they only ever wanted to hook up and never speak again. Tonight though Jungkook needed to be the bug caught in your web.

You pretended to mull it over, tapping the rim of your glass with your finger. “Hmm... cute line.”

“Not a line.” He shot back, more serious now. “But seriously, let me buy you a new drink?”

You were about to decline, but his eyes held yours, that quiet confidence making you hesitate just a second too long.

“Fine.” You said, sighing like you were giving in, but the small smirk tugging at your lips told him otherwise. “But you’re still going to have to work for it.”

“I plan to.” Jungkook leaned in just a fraction, his voice dropping. “Let me get your number. I’ll take you out, show you what I mean by serious.”

You fake contemplation and act like you really needed time to think about it, sucker . You tap the rim of your glass for a moment before you reach your free hand out to him, gesturing for his phone. Jungkook takes the silent victory and pulls his phone out, opening it for you. With a few quick taps and your contact information solidified in his phone.

The deed had been done.

“Don’t disappoint me.” You said, handing it back, your tone playful but carrying an edge of warning.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He replied, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Have a goodnight Jungkook.” Turning on your heel leaving him there and just letting him watch you go. You b-line straight back to your table.

Jungkook was feeling good and felt like this was going to be a breeze of a month. He had to make sure that first date went well first. He would put on his best boyfriend face forward, it’s not that he couldn’t do it like everyone thought. It’s just been a long time since he last had the chance too.

He made his way back over to his own table, he put on a fake sad face as he took his seat back next to Taehyung.

“Strike out did you?” Hoseok patted him on the shoulder in comfort.

“Yeah… struck off the first day of the month.” Jungkook raised his phone, revealing your phone number. Jungkook, a smug grin on his face.

“I’m surprised.” Jimin sat in quiet contemplation, “But it won’t last.”

“She’s cute. You guys should have picked more carefully.” Jungkook sighed, looking back into the bar in the direction of your friends and your table. Your back was to him so he couldn’t catch a glimpse of you.

He then remembered he still owed you a drink.

Across the bar you settled back in with your friends.

“I caught the whale boys.” You take a small bow and small cheers round around the table.

“Congratulations.” Namjoon cheers you, hitting his glass with yours.

Your friends leaned in, eager for the play-by-play of your encounter. You gave them the rundown. Ronnie, the first to break the silence, grinned and raised his glass in admiration.

“That was smooth, Y/N. You had him wrapped around your finger.”

You chuckled, taking a slow sip of your drink. “It’s even better that he thinks he’s in control. There's no way he was actually serious but a fun flirt.”

Jin shook his head, a mixture of amusement and awe on his face. “You’re scary when you’re confident. I’m glad I’m on your side.”

“So what’s the next step in this little experiment of yours?” Ronnie asked, clearly invested in the unfolding drama.

“Well,” You began, swirling your drink in thought, “I wait for him to reach out. Then I’ll play it cool on the first date, get him comfortable.”

“Why play it cool?” Namjoon asked, eyebrows raised.

“Because,” You smirked, “if I’m too much, too fast, he’ll bolt. But if I ease him in, I’ll have time to start slowly being weird.”

Just then, a waitress appeared, sliding a pretty pink drink in front of you. “This one’s from the guy across the bar.” She said, nodding toward Jungkook, who was leaning against the counter, already watching you. “He said you’d know him.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the boldness. Lifting the glass slightly, you gave him a small, acknowledging wave, your friends immediately picking up on the gesture.

“What’s it called?” You asked, eyes still locked on Jungkook.

The waitress grinned. “It’s a Cosmic Encounter .”

“How pretty.” You muttered, a playful smirk forming. You brought the glass to your lips, not breaking eye contact with Jungkook as you took a sip. The sweetness of the drink contrasted sharply with the building tension between the two of you.

If the circumstances were different you may let yourself swoon at the gesture. Picking a cute drink for you. You may try to see if you really could get him to be serious. This was not that though, this was all business and you would have to continue to remind yourself.

Ronnie was the first to speak up again, a wide grin spreading across his face. “I’ll admit, he’s got moves.”

“Just don’t forget this is what he does.” Jin knowing how you are, felt the reminder needed to be put out there. That this is all temporary.

Just as you were about to continue, your phone buzzed softly in your hand. A text. Your eyes drifted down to the screen, and sure enough, it was Jungkook.

Jungkook: Hope you like it… when are you free next?

You couldn’t help the smirk that spread across your lips. “Speak of the devil.”

Namjoon leaned over. “Already? He really wasted no time.”

“Faster than I thought.” You admitted, typing a quick reply.

:We’ll see, Jungkook. Maybe I’m busy.

The thrill of the chase was intoxicating, and as you sent the message, you could feel the game picking up speed. Both of you were circling each other, waiting for the right moment to strike.

You had no doubt, you were going to eat Jungkook alive.

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nickistuffs · 4 months ago

Text

Hello Again Pt. 1

Pairing: Harry x Designer reader (curvy or plus size whatever you feel they should look like. This is my preference 😌)

Summary: This feels fated to meet again and again and again

Word Count: 3.07k

Warnings: None. It's It's just fluff and also a slow burn.

Read Chimed Encounters first to start before this one.

✨masterlist✨ read the rest of Harry x Designer Reader there

...

A ping from your email broke your concentration on work. You sighed, already assuming it was one of your manufacturers asking for yet another confirmation about a product you’d been working over for months. Without much thought, you clicked on the notification, ready to fire off a quick response.

To your surprise, the email wasn’t from a manufacturer—it was from Sam, your old friend and occasional collaborator. His subject line read: “Job Offer You Can’t Refuse.” Intrigued, you opened the email and quickly scanned its contents.

It seemed Sam had found you a project that piqued his interest—and yours. The pay was good, the timeline was tight, and the concept sounded straightforward.

You immediately picked up your phone and called him. No need for formalities; this was Sam, after all.

“Hey, Sam,” you said as soon as he answered, skipping any pleasantries. “What’s this mysterious job offer you’re dangling in front of me?”

“Oh, that.” He sounded smug, which only made you roll your eyes. “I’m under an NDA, so I can’t say too much, but it’s a pop-up store project. The whole thing needs to be modular and removable, so it can be packed up and relocated in two months. Easy, right? You in?”

You didn’t even hesitate. “Of course, I’m in! Sounds simple enough. Send over the contract and details, and I’ll get started.”

“I knew I could count on you,” he said with a grin you could practically hear through the phone. “See you onsite, Y/N.” ...

The day of the meeting arrived, and you were ready—or so you thought.

Sam couldn’t make it and had entrusted you to lead the meeting solo, but you were used to working independently, so it wasn’t a problem. Dressed in a professional outfit that balanced comfort and confidence, you walked into the office where the meeting was being held.

As you glanced around at the product displays, your heart skipped a beat. You could already tell this was a high-profile client. Their products, branding, and visuals exuded quality and creativity.

As you tried to calm your nerves, the conference room door opened, and a group of people filed out.

A friendly woman approached you, pulling you back to reality.

“Hello, are you Ms. Y/N L/N?”

“Yes,” you replied with a polite smile, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I have a meeting with your visual merchandising manager.”

“Perfect, you’re our two o’clock appointment. Please come in.”

You stepped inside the sleek, minimalistic conference room and began setting up.

“Our lead designer just stepped out for a quick break,” the woman explained, handing you a water bottle. “They’ll be back in ten minutes and a few other designers. Is there anything else I can get you while you wait? Coffee?”

“Water is fine. Thank you,” you replied.

You opened your laptop, pulled up your notes and sketches, and jotted down a few ideas in your journal. You were mid-thought when the door opened behind you.

You turned, ready to greet whoever entered, but the words caught in your throat.

It was him. Harry Styles.

...

You both stared at each other, completely stunned. Of all the people you could run into at this meeting, it had to be him. You hadn’t seen Harry since your last encounter at Felice’s Café.

For a moment, it felt like the world had slowed down, your mind scrambling to process his presence. He looked just as effortlessly charming as you remembered, his warm green eyes flickering with recognition and surprise.

Finally, Harry broke the silence, his voice smooth but slightly uncertain.

“Hello, I’m Harry Styles. I’m the owner of the company. Nice to meet you…?”

It took you a second to respond, your voice catching in your throat. “It’s Y/N. Y/N L/N. Nice to meet you as well.”

He smiled, extending a hand toward you. You scrambled to your feet, standing taller than you’d expected, and reached out to shake his hand.

Your hands met, and you shook it—a bit too long, you thought as the realization hit. The warmth of his hand lingered, making you feel like time had momentarily stopped again.

You quickly dropped your hand and clasped it behind your back, your face heating up.

For a split second, an awkward silence filled the room. Harry seemed like he was about to say something, his lips parting as if to speak—

But just then, the door opened, and a small group of people filed into the room, shattering the quiet bubble you’d both been trapped in.

“Ah, great,” said a cheerful man from the group, clapping his hands together as he approached. “Harry, you’re here. And this must be Ms. L/N!”

The moment was gone. Harry straightened, his expression shifting seamlessly to one of polite professionalism, though you caught a flicker of something in his eyes as he glanced back at you.

You offered a polite nod to the newcomers, forcing yourself to focus as introductions were made. Yet, as the meeting began, you couldn’t help but feel like something important had been left unsaid.

And judging by the way Harry occasionally glanced your way, he felt the same.

...

As the meeting progressed, Harry found himself quietly observing you. Initially, he’d assumed you might be shy or reserved—perhaps because of the nervous energy that had lingered when you first met. But as you delved into your presentation, he realized just how wrong he was.

The confidence with which you spoke captivated the room. Your tone was steady yet approachable, and your words were carefully chosen to articulate your vision. You presented your design concepts with precision, highlighting the intricate details and practical functionality behind each element.

Harry leaned forward slightly in his chair, his interest piqued. The way you seamlessly balanced creativity with logic was impressive. He could tell how much thought you’d put into this project—every choice seemed deliberate, every detail purposeful.

What surprised him most, however, was your ability to command the room. You weren’t just presenting; you were selling the design, painting a picture of how the concept would come to life. And the team was eating it up.

He stole a glance around the room. His team, typically quick to interject or challenge ideas, sat quietly, nodding along with your points. Even he couldn’t help but admire the way you navigated through the questions and feedback with such ease.

When you paused for questions, Harry cleared his throat and spoke, his voice cutting through the room.

“I really appreciate the thought you’ve put into the design—it’s incredibly well-considered. I do have a question, though,” he said, his tone genuinely curious. “You mentioned incorporating natural textures into the layout. Can you elaborate on how those elements will remain modular while still maintaining their aesthetic appeal?”

You turned to him, locking eyes for a brief moment. His question wasn’t just thoughtful—it showed that he’d been paying close attention to your presentation.

“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” you began, your voice steady. “That’s a great question. For the natural textures, such as reclaimed wood and stone-inspired finishes, I’ve ensured that they’re lightweight and easily removable. The modular framework uses a system of interchangeable panels, so the aesthetic can be retained without compromising functionality.”

Harry nodded, clearly impressed. “That makes sense. And it aligns well with what we’re trying to achieve here—something unique, but also adaptable. Nicely done.”

You gave him a polite smile, though inside, his compliment sent a ripple of pride through you.

As the meeting continued, Harry couldn’t help but feel drawn to the passion and expertise you brought to your work. There was something magnetic about the way you carried yourself—so composed and articulate, yet with a spark of creativity that set you apart.

And as the session wrapped up, he found himself wondering if this serendipitous reunion might be more than just a chance encounter.

As handshakes and congratulations were exchanged, the manager gave a final nod of approval, and Harry himself followed suit, offering his praise for your presentation. It had been a resounding success.

With most of the team filing out of the room, the buzz of conversation slowly faded, leaving you alone at the conference table, still stuffing your things into your bag. You were on a high from the meeting—everything had gone so smoothly, but the exhaustion from a long day was beginning to catch up.

Suddenly, you heard a soft cough. Looking up, you were surprised to see Harry still standing near the door.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, startled. “Are there any more questions you need from me, Mr. Styles?” You quickly adjusted your posture, feeling a bit flustered.

Harry smiled, the easy warmth you remembered from your past encounter resurfacing. “You can call me Harry,” he replied with a casual, almost reassuring tone. “I’m not too big on formalities. Can I call you Y/N?”

“That’s alright with me,” you answered with a smile, pleased by the friendly tone of the conversation. It felt much more natural now that the formality had faded.

A beat of silence passed before Harry spoke again, his eyes twinkling with a hint of curiosity. “So, how long have you been eating breakfast at Feli’s Café?”

You blinked, a bit taken aback by the question. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. “Oh, I’ve been going there for a while now. I usually grab a matcha latte and sometimes a sandwich. Feli’s a good friend of mine—she’s the one who got me hooked on her menu.”

Good thing I found your journal, your presentation was fantastic. Harry complimented.

Thank you again for giving it back. and sorry I was on a time crunch that I didn't introduce myself.

Harry chuckled softly, his expression warm.

You felt a sudden shift in the air between you two, the unspoken moment starting to surface. But before either of you could delve deeper into the conversation, a voice from the hallway interrupted the moment.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the manager popped his head back in, looking around. “But I just wanted to confirm we’re all set for the next steps, Y/N? Can we count on you for the design rollout next week?”

You gave a nod, quickly snapping back into professional mode. “Yes, everything is in order. I'll start on the proper revisions needed for the plans."

“Perfect,” the manager smiled, satisfied. “Thanks again for your excellent work today.”

As he left the room, you turned back to Harry, who was still standing near the door, clearly reluctant to leave just yet.

“I guess I should let you get back to your day,” you said, trying to break the lingering tension. “I’ll see you around, Harry.”

Harry’s smile widened, and he nodded slowly. “Definitely.”

...

It had been a month since you completed your work for Pleasing. You scrolled through their Instagram, admiring how your designs brought their brand to life. Seeing people lining up to buy their high-quality products filled you with a deep sense of pride.

You’d only seen Harry a handful of times during the project, but he always seemed busy, caught up in meetings or surrounded by other people.

Sighing loudly, you collapsed onto your bed, letting the exhaustion of the day wash over you. You had plans to join an art market this month, where you’d sell your prints, stickers, and other handmade knickknacks. It was something to look forward to, at least.

“Will we ever meet again?” you murmured to yourself, staring up at the ceiling. “I mean, what are the chances?” You already knew the answer before you even finished the thought. Harry was probably the busiest person you’d ever met, and you were just a nobody in his world.

Your heart felt heavy as you grappled with the cold, hard reality—he might have only been a fleeting moment in your life, a beautiful memory to cherish but not something meant to last. ...

A month had passed, and Harry still hadn’t been able to properly speak with you. He had been trying—desperately, in fact. He’d gone to the café where you first met, hoping to run into you again, but you never showed up, or you came at different times. He even tried catching you after work, but you were always whisked away to other locations or surrounded by people.

In a final act of determination, Harry had even approached HR for your contact information, but they refused to give it to him. Frustrated and defeated, he began to think maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

As he walked home one evening, his eyes caught on a brightly colored poster advertising an upcoming art market at the same location he frequented. He stared at it for a moment, a flicker of hope sparking in his chest before he brushed it off with a sigh. Maybe it was time to give up. Maybe it was never destined to happen.

But something about the poster lingered in his mind—a quiet, persistent thought that made him decide, almost on impulse, to go to the market anyway. Perhaps, by some happy chance, fate would intervene.

You were busy setting up your booth in the bustling market, carefully adjusting misaligned prints and rearranging trinkets to create the perfect display. The air buzzed with chatter and laughter, the atmosphere lively as other artists greeted passersby and showcased their work.

“Your paintings are just lovely, dear,” an elderly woman remarked, her eyes sparkling as she pointed to one of your pieces.

“They really are,” her partner chimed in with a warm smile. “We could hang one in the hallway, couldn’t we?”

“Excuse me, miss,” another potential buyer interjected, holding up one of your prints. “How much is this?”

“For the A4 size, it’s 25 pounds,” you replied with a friendly smile.

More people began to gather, drawn by the charm of your artwork. You did your best to keep up, answering questions, wrapping purchases, and making small talk with the growing crowd. It was a whirlwind, but you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride seeing so many people appreciating your work.

...

Walking through the bustling market, Harry wandered past the stalls he always loved to visit. He admired the fresh vegetables and fruits, browsed through racks of thrifted clothes, and flipped through stacks of vinyl records that always piqued his interest. But today, something different caught his attention—a special event featuring local artists who had been invited to showcase and sell their work.

As he turned toward the next stall, his eyes landed on something—or rather, someone.

It was you.

There you stood in front of your stall, surrounded by your artwork, speaking to customers with an energy that radiated warmth and passion. The light in your eyes, the way you animatedly gestured while describing your creations, the genuine smile that lit up your face—it was everything he remembered and more.

For a moment, Harry froze, rooted in place as he took it all in. You looked so at home in your element, effortlessly captivating the people around you. His heart raced, a mixture of excitement and nervousness coursing through him. But before doubt could creep in, before he could second-guess himself, he moved.

Harry started walking toward you, his steps quick and purposeful. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions, but there was only one clear thought that anchored him: now or never.

This was his chance to finally talk to you—to close the distance that had been lingering between you both for far too long. He wasn’t going to let it slip away again.

...

It has been a good day so far. People were buying your prints, admiring your stickers, and complimenting your craftsmanship. You smiled to yourself, feeling content with the steady stream of visitors who appreciated your work.

Just as you reached for your water bottle, a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Hello, again, Y/N.”

You froze, the cap of your bottle slipping through your fingers. Slowly, you turned toward the source of the voice, your heart skipping a beat.

There he was—Harry. Standing there amidst the sea of market-goers, looking as effortlessly charming as ever in a white T-shirt, jeans, and sunglasses perched on his curls. His lips curved into a small, knowing smile as your eyes met.

“Harry?” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I thought it was you,” he said, stepping closer. His gaze flickered over your stall, taking in the vibrant prints and trinkets on display. “This is all yours?”

You nodded, suddenly self-conscious. “Yeah, just a little side project I do. How…how did you find me here?”

“I didn’t,” he admitted with a chuckle. “I was just wandering around, and there you were. Funny how the universe works, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “Yeah, funny.”

He looked around at your stall again, picking up one of your prints—a delicate watercolor of flowers intertwined with abstract shapes. “This is beautiful,” he said earnestly, his fingers brushing over the edge of the paper. “You’re really talented.”

“Thank you,” you said, warmth spreading through your chest at the compliment.

“Do you take commissions?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes intensely focused on you.

“Sometimes,” you said, tilting your head. “Why? Are you looking for something specific?”

“I might be,” he replied cryptically, his lips curving into a playful smirk. Before you could press him further, he added, “But first, do you have a break coming up? I was thinking I could buy you a coffee.”

Your breath caught at his unexpected offer. “A coffee?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging like it was the simplest thing in the world. “You’ve been on my mind lately, Y/N. Thought maybe this time we could actually catch up without a room full of people or work deadlines in the way.”

Your pulse quickened as you tried to process his words. Was he really asking you out, or was this just Harry being Harry—charming and polite?

“Well,” you started, glancing at your stall. “I do have a little time before the market closes…”

“Perfect,” he said with a grin. “I’ll wait for you to pack up, or we can just grab something nearby. Whatever works for you.”

As he spoke, the faint hum of the market seemed to fade into the background. For the first time in weeks, the heavy feeling in your chest lifted just a little. Maybe this wasn’t just a fleeting moment after all.

...

Okay, this is actually too long I’ll make it into two parts. Give you guys some suspense. Thank you for reading everyone! ☺️

…

Hello, Again Pt.2

Here’s part two loves hope you enjoy it!

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prettygirl-gabi · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 3: Focus on Us

Rating: General Audiences

Warning: none

Paring: Paige Bueckers x !photographer fem reader

Fandom: Women's basketball

Summary: "you're important"

Welcome to chapter 3 of Through The Lens. I hope you all enjoy and there is more to come...stay tuned my loveies!! 🏀💕📸

It was late, and my tiny dorm desk was cluttered with camera equipment, SD cards, and a cup of lukewarm coffee I’d forgotten to drink. The incident in the gym with Paige lingered in my mind as I sat editing footage for my final project. My fingers hovered over the keyboard as I debated whether to open the file labeled “Gym Footage – Paige.”

Curiosity got the better of me, and I clicked play.

The screen flickered to life, showing Paige’s face as she fumbled with my camera. Her brows furrowed in concentration as she adjusted the angle, murmuring to herself, “How does she make this look so easy?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the way she treated my camera like it was something sacred. Then her tone turned serious.

“Hey, Y/N,” she began, her voice soft but sincere. “I know you’re probably still upset about what happened, and honestly, you have every right to be. But I hope you know how much I admire you—your work, your passion, everything. You’re incredible, and I hate that I hurt you.”

My chest tightened as I listened, her words more heartfelt than I expected.

The video continued, capturing the moment I returned from the bathroom. Paige must have thought she’d turned the camera off, but it kept rolling as we talked, laughed, and shared pieces of ourselves on that cold gym floor.

By the time the video ended, I felt a mix of emotions—touched by Paige’s honesty, but also incredibly awkward knowing it had been recorded. Still, I couldn’t bring myself to delete it. Instead, I duplicated the footage onto a hard drive, labeling it simply as For Paige.

At the next practice, I made my way to the gym, the hard drive tucked securely in my bag. I was nervous to hand it over, unsure how Paige would react.

She spotted me as soon as I walked in, her face lighting up with a grin. “Hey, stranger! Decided to stop avoiding me?”

I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t hide my smile. “I was never avoiding you.”

“Sure,” she teased, jogging over to meet me. “What’s that?”

I pulled the hard drive from my bag, holding it out to her. “It’s… the footage from the gym. I thought you might want a copy.”

Her smile softened as she took it from me, her fingers brushing against mine. “Thanks, Y/N. I didn’t think you kept it.”

I shrugged, trying to play it cool. “It’s good footage. And, well… I think it’s important.”

Paige’s gaze lingered on me for a moment, her expression unreadable. “You’re important.”

The words hung in the air between us, making my heart skip a beat. Before I could respond, Coach blew his whistle, calling the team to start drills.

Over the next few weeks, Paige and I grew closer. At games—both home and away—she made a point to check in on me, making sure I had a good spot to shoot from and subtly positioning herself during warm-ups to shield me from stray balls.

“Protecting your camera,” she’d say with a smirk, though the warmth in her eyes told me it was more than that.

At home games, her attentiveness didn’t go unnoticed by the team—or the fans. KK and Azzi teased us relentlessly, while fans on social media began speculating about our dynamic, tagging us in posts with captions like, “Paige’s photographer girlfriend?”

One particular home game, as I set up my equipment during warm-ups, Paige jogged over, her usual grin in place.

“Let me try,” she said, gesturing to my camera.

I raised an eyebrow. “Try what?”

“Taking pictures,” she said, her tone playful. “You make it look easy, but I bet it’s harder than it seems.”

I hesitated, glancing at the camera in my hands. “Paige, this is expensive equipment. What if you drop it?”

She placed a hand over her heart, feigning offense. “Y/N, I’m an athlete. I have excellent hand-eye coordination.”

I laughed despite myself, eventually handing her the camera. “Fine, but if you break this one, you’re buying me a new one.”

“Deal,” she said with a wink, taking the camera from me.

She spent the next ten minutes snapping pictures of her teammates—some candid, some posed—and even turned the lens on me a few times.

“Paige!” I protested, holding up my hand to block her view.

“Come on, you’re the star of this project,” she teased. “Let me get one good shot.”

Reluctantly, I lowered my hand, letting her capture a few photos. She grinned at the screen, clearly proud of her work.

“You’re a natural,” I admitted as she handed the camera back.

“Only because I have the best teacher,” she replied, her tone soft.

Later, as the game began, I couldn’t help but notice how Paige glanced my way after every big play, her smile brighter than usual. When she made a block that sent the ball flying dangerously close to my corner, she immediately looked over, mouthing, “You okay?”

I nodded, giving her a thumbs-up, and she grinned before returning to the game.

By the time the night ended, I had more than enough photos for my project—and a growing collection of memories with Paige that I knew I’d treasure.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

Tag list: @sayurireidotcom , @astroeliza .... (more to be added)

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jpitha · 2 years ago

Text

The Oxygen Breathers

I thought I posted this one here, but it looks like I didn’t, so here you go!

It was always an event when the Humans visited.

They'd arrive in their sleek, smooth, thick ships; completely at odds with the other ships of the Coalition. Human ships always looked like they were grown rather than built. People would whisper how the Humans made their ships as tough as they were. How human ships could go atmospheric and land on the ground.

It was nonsense of course, no ship - human or otherwise - could do that. Kre'kk figured that the Humans probably spread that rumor themselves.

After they'd arrive, they would come out of the docking umbilical in their small, highly polished suits. They were a rare class of sapient indeed.

The Oxygen Breathers.

Most 'civilized' people in the Coalition came from worlds with manganese sulfur atmospheres. The humans with their oxidizer for a breathing gas were seen as brash, reckless folks who make decisions without proper consideration. Given the reactive nature of their atmosphere, it's practically a given that they too are more reactive in their choices.

Kre'kk stands at attention at the end of the umbilical ready to welcome the humans for their - hopefully - short visit. They come from a high gravity world with a single massive moon - fully a quarter of the size of their own planet itself - so their environmental defaults are... somewhat extreme compared to the rest of the Coalition. The never fail to mention the moon.

As they approached, they reach one half unit away from Kre'kk and stop. He looked down at them - they were about half his height - and he made the Universal Gesture of welcome. The humans reciprocate and Kre'kk’s head frill rustles.

"Welcome to Coalition Orbital 43559 - known to the Lemilar as 'Habilamen.' I am Administrator Kre'kk and I welcome you as equals for you visit."

The human at the head of the group is wearing a slightly different suit. Still polished and reflective, but where the rest of the humans are wearing suits of pitch black - darker than interstellar space - this one is a deep vermillion red. Kre'kk is drawn to the color. It's so rich! It almost looks wet.

When they begin to speak, a simplified icon of a human face is projected onto the smooth polished surface of the helmet. It seems that the humans have taken some care to make themselves look less frightening in their environmental suits. "Thank you for the greeting, Administrator Kre'kk. I am Captain Margaret Kellerman and this is my crew." She gestures behind her. "We plan on staying only for three cycles demi in order to take on a load of Ribanium and trade with any interested parties. I will share with you a manifest of what we have available to trade." She gestures on her arm, and the file appears on Kre'kk's pad.

Kre'kk is taken aback at her voice. It's so clear. She seems to be speaking through a translator, but it is getting the nuance and overtones of the Lemilar Trade Language perfectly. She could have a career as an entertainer or storyteller easily if she was a difference species. Kre’kk swallows. "Uh, thank you Captain, I have received your file and will distribute it. Please make use of our facilities during your stay."

Captain Kellerman's helmet flashed a icon of a face, smiling - without their teeth - broadly. "Thank you Administrator Kre'kk, we shall."

For two cycles, Kre'kk held out hope that the human's visit would be without incident. They came in quietly, did some minor trading, loaded their Ribanium and spent a… reasonable amount of money on entertainment and refreshments - suitable for their systems - while on board. Kre'kk felt they were trying very hard to be model visitors. Apparently they knew humans had a reputation in the Coalition for being... rowdy.

On the last demi cycle before the Humans were scheduled to depart a group of Felimen came over, angry. They had spent the entire two cycles previous loudly complaining that the humans shouldn't be here, and that they had captured Felimen colonies long ago and had begun the process of 'poisoning them' to be more suitable to them. The Human authorities maintain - and have the receipts to prove - that they purchased the planets legally from the Felimen, and never attempted to hide their goals of colonization and geoengineering. Regardless, a long, bloody war had followed and the humans had pushed the Felimen to capitulate and were currently engaged in a Cold War with each other.

Kre'kk was alerted as soon as the shouts started. The Felimen seemed to come to the humans wanting to cause trouble. For their part, the humans tried their best to talk the Felimen down. Their helmet icons were looking sad and quiet and they gestured in ways to try and reduce tension. The Felimen were having none of it though.

As Kre'kk undulated over to try and calm them, one of the Felimen in the back had wheeled out a battle rifle. Kre'kk had no idea how they had snuck it in, but it was completely banned on the Orbital and was cause for immediate expulsion. Before he could sound the alarm and get the Orbital authorities to come, they fired at the group of humans.

It proved to be a fatal error in judgement.

One of the humans in the front of the group was struck directly in their center of mass. They staggered back, and their suit showed significant damage. Luckily for them the suit was not penitrated. The humans reputation for building strong was well earned apparently.

Faster than Kre'kk could follow and only confirmed by viewing the security footage after the fact, three of the humans brought massive slug throwers to bear. Kre’kk knew that the Coalition sapient races find chemical powered metal slug throwers to be far too heavy to be hand weapons. If they are used, they're tripod or vehicle mounted. The humans are apparently experts in their manufacture and use, and can swing them around like they weigh nothing.

The noise of the slug throwers in the hall was deafening. Kre'kk winced as his active noise cancellation dampened the noise and wondered how the humans could take the noise without being injured, but he assumed they must also have some kind of noise cancelling built into their environmental suits.

They fired for a short time indeed, but it was more than enough. All of the Felimen were dead, with the ones in the front unrecognizable. The silence in the hall after they finished firing weighed heavy. It felt like an eternity after they had stopped before the station alarms sounded.

Kre'kk moved over to the humans. They were checking eachothers suits and cleaning up the small yellow colored pieces of metal that come flying out of their throwers when they fire. "Brass" is what they call it. Kre'kk gestured an apology. "I'm sorry. Battle weapons are banned here. You're going to have to leave now."

Captain Kellerman's icon showed pure fury. Her gauntlet covered hand pointed at him accusingly. "You're going to take their side, Administrator? You were here, you saw them. They shot first! They damaged the suit of one of my crew! It was through the luck of Forturne herself that his suit was not pierced!”

Kre'kk slid back one half unit unconsciously. "Be that as it may, you responded with… disproportionate force to their attack. It was uncalled for."

Captain Kellerman sputtered, her melodic voice taking on frightening undertones as the translator worked overtime to relay her fury to Kre'kk. "Uncalled for!? Administrator Kre'kk with all due respect you are out of line. You know about the war I assume, but do you know what they did to our colonies? They dropped nanobombs on our legally purchased colonies. They weren't trying to take back land, they were trying to obliterate us. I was there, I saw it with my own eyes."

Kre'kk was taken aback. This was not part of the standard narrative about the war. "I did not know that no, the Felimen-"

"The Felimen tell their own version of the war in order to garner support and sympathy against 'the aggressor human' I'm sure." Captain Kellerman sounded bitter in the translated voice. "Kre'kk. Your people border the Felimen opposite us do you not?"

"Yes, our territory borders theirs but-"

"And have you by any chance heard of some border worlds coming under some kind of unknown trouble? Maybe a strange illness, or unusually strong weather on the worlds?"

Kre'kk's frill rippled worriedly and he said nothing. He had heard about things like that.

Captain Kellerman cleared her helmet. Suddenly, Kre'kk saw her clearly. Small, with bilateral symmetry, close set binocular eyes and a small mouth, this was the first time Kre'kk saw a human as they are, not as their icons show them. They are predators. They are hunters.

They are terrifying.

Kre'kk unconsciously made a gesture of fear and slid back another half unit. Captain Kellerman's face contorted into a snarl. "Know this Kre'kk. It's only a matter of time before they do to you what they attempted - and failed - to do to us. Think hard about who your friends are and who in the Coalition you can come to for help when they start dropping nanobombs on your worlds." Just as suddenly as it had cleared, her helmet darkened again, and the cartoon icon of her face returned. It felt like a mockery to Kre'kk now.

The humans picked up the rest of their debris and freed their weapons. Faster than Kre'kk could ripple, they were all carrying slug throwers. "We're leaving, Administrator Kre'kk. If any Felimen even come within 5 units of us-" The people behind her cycled a round into their rifles for emphasis "-we will take it as a provocation and will respond with 'disproportionate' force."

"Y-yes Captain. I will relay this information."

"Oh and Administrator Kre'kk? Your Station will be added to the list of Orbitals where humans will not go. We will do no trading, sell no wares, and offer no defense. You and yours will do well to consider your stance vis-a-vis us and the Felimen."

Without another word, the group of humans turned and marched towards their ship. Shaking, Kre'kk signaled that they were not to be interrupted and made sure their warning about Felimen was relayed.

After they left and the mess was cleaned up, Kre'kk sat in his quarters and stared out the window at the planet below a long time. One of his creche mates was living on a newly founded colony bordering Felimen space. He began composing a message to beam to her asking if she had any plans about moving back.

#humans are deathworlders #writing #sci fi writing #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans and aliens #jpitha #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #The oxygen breathers

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pullupinarari · 3 months ago

Text

The Secret of Us [LH]

I. Mistaken for Strangers

summary: a 5 chapter miniseries in which Lewis chooses you to coordinate one of his new projects, but the instant spark flicking between the two of you makes the professional lines grow a little blurry. do the both of you feel the same?

author's note: first chapter of this plot that has literally been living in my mind rent free for MONTHS. I am so excited to finally work on it and I had so much fun writing it! hope you girls enjoy it 🩷

• masterlist

wc: 9228 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

Wednesday, 9:42 am. The sound of your heels clicking on the floor fills the space as you walk through the large corridors of the building, rushing to enter the meeting that was supposed to have started 12 minutes ago.

Losing yourself in time, you got carried away in pressing ‘snooze’ on your phone, and the crazy traffic that seemed to swallow you in between the never-ending lines of cars didn’t help your case either.

Your brain questions what this encounter is about - you just got a call from your boss yesterday, telling about how “a very important client” has demanded a meeting with you - refusing to give you any more details about it. Great, the only thing you know is that it’s a very important client, and you are starting off amazingly by showing up late.

Slowly swallowing the coffee that you’re holding in your hands, you take a deep breath as if to calm down your thoughts, before your fingers push the door open.

Your eyes scan the room briefly, already apologizing for being late as you start shaking hands with everyone at the office. There’s a familiar face in the middle of the group, one that stays behind everyone else, as if he is trying to adapt to the environment surrounding him.

You know who he is, it would be hard not to. Even if you don’t pay much attention to sports, he is so much more than just a sportsman - Lewis Hamilton, the seven time formula 1 champion, is right in front of you.

Your gazes meet for a moment, while your hands connect in a professional hand shake. As soon as you get closer to him, feeling his touch in yours, it’s almost impossible for you to not grow a bit nervous - still trying to process the person that’s right in front of you.

Lewis knew what to expect when the door swung open. With a new project in hand, his team searched for the best of the best in the field, trying to find the most suitable person to be in charge to coordinate this investment.

And that’s how you came along: in a stack of four resumes sitting on his desk, Lewis opened your file, carefully analyzing your entire career path, the types of projects you are used to working on, and the topics that excite you the most.

Looking for someone who has similar values as him, he quickly realized that you were the one: you are determined, have a successful professional path, and you seem to share the same vision as him. That, and the fact that the picture on your resume has enticed him from the first second, not even reading the rest of the files on his desk - after all, he had found the person he was looking forward to working with the most.

It feels like time has stopped when you stand in front of each other. Suddenly, the room went silent, like no one else was around you, leaving it to be just the two of you. But maybe, you stared at each other a second too long, maybe your hands felt the other’s warmth for longer than it was supposed to, until someone is clearing their throat, making you distance yourself from the man, occupying your seat at the table.

Keeping your posture while you take a deep breath to regain your senses, you focus on your boss, who's now rushing so the meeting can finally start, not wanting to keep the client and his team waiting any further.

Lewis’ team is quick to explain more about the reason why they wanted to meet you. This is a special project for the man: a new clothing line, whose profits will be donated to charities that Lewis cares for - a project that reflects most of Lewis’ personality, with his taste and passion for fashion, and his will to help others.

It’s easy for you to identify all the common points that you have with the main idea for this job, so you slowly start growing excited to get your hands on this project. But, at the same time, you can’t stop feeling that something is startling you, making you lose your focus from time to time.

Maybe it’s the way Lewis’ gaze lands on you from across the table, how his eyes seem to burn the insides of your soul, making you shift your attention between him and the presentation of the project.

When it’s finally time for him to speak, he gets up from his seat, ready to explain his motivation behind this idea and his expectations for it. But while he does so, his eyes never leave you, his words being directed only at you, forgetting about your boss or anyone else that’s also in the room with the two of you.

You feel your cheeks growing warmer by the minute, your hands slightly sweaty, your heartbeat accelerated, almost hypnotized by his intensity, his gaze being strong enough to set you ablaze.

He’s wearing a long, bright, orange blazer, his braids tied in a bun, enhancing his chocolate eyes that are totally focused on you, trying to record every single detail of your face in his mind, so he won’t forget about it.

You’re pretty sure that everyone else can notice the way you keep looking at each other, even if they act oblivious to it, and that’s enough to almost make you die out of embarrassment, even if you’re giving your best to pretend like you are not bothered by his presence right in front of you.

Finally, the meeting comes to an end, having sorted out the main ideas you are going to start working on already, and you can’t help but notice the heavy weight that seems to lift from your shoulders once you shake his hand for the final time today.

It’s almost as if you can breathe correctly again, without feeling so self-conscious from being shamelessly stared at by someone like Lewis Hamilton. Still, the way he said ‘goodbye’ to you, with a slight wink and a smirk plastered on his face, left your insides rumbling, this weird feeling growing inside of you.

You knew you were done from the first second you walked inside that meeting. The seven time Formula 1 world champion is obviously a very important client for your company, and your boss is making sure that he has everything he wants and needs. That’s why he was quick to inform you: Sir Hamilton will have a weekly meeting with you. Every Wednesday, at 9:30 am. Don’t be late.

Great, a weekly reason to make you wish you would be buried seven feet under. Your boss even made sure to tell you to clear your schedule every Wednesday morning, so the meetings for Lewis’ project wouldn’t have to be rushed.

This is a very important opportunity for you inside your company, but you’re not that pleased about this, due to the way you had felt this morning, feeling as if the driver was analyzing every inch of your face, reading every bit of your facial expressions.

The only thing you can do now is focus on your job, and not think about seeing him again until next week - and maybe even pray that these intense reactions from him could be just a 'first impression' type of thing, hoping he will show you a more calm side of his personality in the following meetings.

“Lewis Hamilton is a problem for next week, Y/N” - at least, that was what you thought. The next day, you were peacefully enjoying your dinner at home, when your phone started ringing a crazy amount of times, the ringing sounding muffled in between the sofa pillows, but still annoying you, praying it would stop.

A loud sigh escapes your lips when you look at the screen, your eyebrows furrowing when you check the countless messages from the man himself - Lewis, texting you a bunch of different pictures of ideas and inspirations he has for the project, wanting your opinion on them.

You immediately groan, hating the fact that your boss asked you to give him your personal number instead of just the professional one, so he could ‘reach out directly to you whenever he needs’ since he’s ‘such an important client’.

Opening the conversation, you notice his messages don’t stop coming, asking you questions and sending you different pictures of what he’s envisioning for this assignment. Tired of hearing your texts’ ring, you decide to dial his number, calling him in hopes he would just tell you everything that’s going through his mind while you are having dinner, interrupting the little time you have away from the office.

After the second ring, the man picks up your call.

- What can I do for you on this fine evening, Y/N? Can I get you sparkling water as cold as this typical rainy London night? Maybe a medium rare steak? - his voice sounds deep, yet light and you just can’t not notice the cheeky tone of his words, like he’s having so much fun while terrorizing your time away from work.

Silently rolling your eyes at his attitude, you’re ready to answer him back with the same wit.

- Well, office hours are over, and I hope you will keep that in mind the next time you think about clogging my phone with endless messages, Sir Hamilton. - using your most sultry tone, you smirk to yourself as you hear him humming on the other side of the line. If he wants to mess with you, he better beware that two can play this game. - Noted, Miss Y/N. I’m sorry for taking your time outside of your office to bother you with work related topics. But maybe our interactions after your office hours can be rearranged, no? Maybe we can change the subject of our conversations? - pushing your buttons, he’s clearly smiling at his phone, enjoying the way you joined his banter, just as much as he enjoyed hearing the words Sir Hamilton leaving your lips, leaving him to dream about it all night.

Fucker. His provocative words leave you speechless, struggling to have a reaction, your brain running to say something, so he will stop feeding his ego off the embarrassed silence that he got you in, now.

Clearing your throat, you decide to change the topic of the conversation.

- So, enlighten me a bit more about the ideas you sent me for the design? That’s why you contacted me in the first place, right? - you try to keep your composure. He’s a client like every other, Y/N. Breathe, in and out, and forget about what he said. Be. Professional.

On the other side of the line, a chuckle leaves the man’s throat.

- Office hours are over, Y/N. We will have plenty of time to discuss our ideas and different… positions on this project. Have a nice night. - The cheeky attitude makes your face feel hot again. He’s clearly smiling on the other side of the phone call, oblivious to the way your insides are trembling with his innuendo, in the same way that you have no idea how he can’t stop thinking about you, the way your baby blue suit would hug your figure perfectly, how your soft voice seems to enter his ears and travel through his veins, making him feel something that he has never felt before - but something that he definitely wants to chase.

Tonight feels particularly hard for you to fall asleep. Your brain is trying to process everything that happened for the past two days, and every time you replay his words, your insides grow nervous.

It’s like you’re already fighting an internal battle with yourself, conflicted between the way you feel and how wrong it is for you to feel this way, how you should remain professional.

Either way, no man is worth losing your job over. So, with a final deep breath, you try to forget about him and his antics, reminding yourself that you have other projects, other things to focus and to work on.

And, surprisingly, during the following days, the man grows silent. Doesn’t call, doesn't text, almost as if he was giving you a break from all the things he could say or do, letting you focus on your work and your inner peace.

Still, his damn words would continuously hover in the back of your mind, even making you suppress a smile sometimes, thinking that you will end up going insane just by the amount of times that your head brings this back.

Soon enough, a new week arrives, and before you can notice, it’s Wednesday again. It’s 9:20 am when you walk inside your company's building, reaching for the door handle of your office, when your eyes scan Lewis’ figure sitting on the couch at the waiting area.

Sharing a soft smile with you, he gets up once you open the door, noticing how the man just allows himself to walk inside your workplace without your permission, getting comfortable in one of the chairs in front of your desk, while you’re left dumbfounded at the door, analyzing his attitude.

After a second, you sit on your chair, only to be met with Hamilton’s sharp tongue again.

- It's amazing to see that you can actually show up on time for once - he ironizes, suppressing his own laugh when he notices your eyebrows lifting, looking straight at him.

You can’t believe his smart mouth, how he feels so comfortable to push your buttons even before knowing anything about you. Still, you push your hair out of your face and straighten your posture before replying:

- Is acting like a prick your favourite hobby or something? - your snap back with an ironic smile on your face, hearing Lewis laughing loud at your question, lightening the mood between the two of you.

Almost as a peace offer, he finally puts a cup of coffee that he was holding in his hand, on your desk, moving it closer to you. You raise an eyebrow at him, looking at the cup in front of you that has your name written on the lid.

- A hot blonde vanilla latte with oat milk. Did I get it right? - the man asks with a nervous smile on his face, showing you his fingers crossed in hopes that he didn’t ruin the order that he made sure to get you.

A surprised chuckle leaves your lips, sincerely smiling at him, now.

- Yup. That’s correct. How the hell did you find out what my usual coffee order is? - your furrowed eyebrows dominate your facial expression, trying to figure out how he discovered something so small yet so specific about you. - I noticed the coffee cup you were holding on our first meeting. If you don’t want people to know what you’re drinking, maybe you shouldn’t walk around with the sticker of your entire order glued to the cup - Lewis giggles at you, seeing the way your lips suppress a laugh that soon you let free as well. - Damn you, Starbucks! A girl can’t have her mysterious latte without some prick finding out about it - his eyes look small on his face when he hears your words, smiling widely at the light banter that revolves around you two now.

Still, you take the cup in your hands, sipping on the latte, realizing that it really tastes just like every other you usually order - he didn’t miss a detail about it.

- Thank you, Sir Hamilton. This is a very nice gesture from you - you say, giving him an honest smile while your eyes dance with his in an intense, yet brief, stare, before turning your attention to your computer.

There’s a moment of silence, the typing on your keyboard being the only sound filling the room, while Lewis’ mind is loud inside his skull. As if he keeps fighting himself to continue the banter, to tease you about the whole ‘Sir Hamilton’ thing, or to make another snarky remark just to push your buttons again. But instead, he just takes a breath, trying to ease some of the tension on his shoulders, due to all the pressure that he keeps putting himself under whenever he sees you.

- Please, you can call me Lewis. - is all he says. With a soft tone, with shiny eyes, looking up at you as you turn your face in the same direction as his voice, your gazes meeting again.

You gulp. Okay, Lewis. Not Sir, not Mr. Hamilton. Just Lewis. Nodding your head, you find the courage to speak through the intensity surrounding your bodies right now, as if your figures are speaking for yourselves, leaving little room for actual words to leave your mouth.

While the air grows thicker around you, Lewis’ deadly stare is still on you, almost defying you to reciprocate it, noticing the way he props his elbows on the table, moving his body closer to you, even if there’s an entire desk distancing you two - something that you aren’t sure if you should be thankful for or not, your mind wondering as your eyes travel through the man’s shape.

Taking his jacket off, his body gives you a show of what’s underneath the fabric covering his skin. He’s wearing a sleeveless shirt today, one that hugs his toned body perfectly, showing his biceps on full display for you right now, making you feel flustered, making it impossible for you to deny how good he looks.

He notices it. He feels it. Your eyes travelling through his frame, admiring his toned arms, the tattoos strategically positioned to adorn his skin, your cheeks turning a slight shade of pink that makes a sly smile play on his lips, loving the way your gaze seems to not be able to leave him, addicted to having your attention.

Once you realize that you have been staring for too long, you pull yourself back from the trance he got you in, clearing your throat as you sip on your coffee again - doubting that filling your system with caffeine is a wise decision, right now.

- Well, thank you for the coffee, Lewis - you enhance the way his name sounds on your lips, getting a simple, yet knowing, smile from the man.

Shifting in your seat, you try to regain your focus, hoping the drink might at least help you with that.

- So, about the project… - you change the topic, looking back at your computer, as you try to start discussing some ideas with the driver, who is ready to listen to them, and to everything that you want to tell him, really.

Time passes by faster while you’re in each other’s presence, even if, deep in your bones, it feels like every second burns on your skin, passing by excruciatingly slowly, feeling every breath in your body, every stare, every word sinking in your soul.

And while both of you are trying your absolute best to remain focused, it’s hard. Lewis can’t stop noticing every detail of your presence, the way your hair gets in front of your face when you’re writing down the topics you need to work on next, forcing you to always keep the strands behind your ear, how you bounce your leg almost absently whenever he talks, biting down the skin of your lips as a way to distract you from the anxiety travelling through your blood - silently letting him know that he’s not indifferent to you, that he causes your body to react on its own.

Showing him your ideas, you turn your computer screen to the side, so the man can see everything you had planned already, how you picture the final result. But instead of staying in his place, he gets up, walking over to you, his frame leaning over yours as you two look at the screen in front of you.

- It’s just easier this way, no? So we can both look at things from the same perspective - his hoarse voice tells you, suddenly speaking lower, his lips closer to your ear as he directs his eyes to the projects in front of him.

As soon as his figure got closer, you could immediately notice the scent of his perfume, the delicate yet strong aroma hitting your nostrils, feeling so pleasant yet so present, just like him.

Looking up at him, you just give him a smile - one that’s not completely innocent, one that could make Lewis lose everything right here and now, only if he had a bit more confidence with you to take you in his arms, so he could lay your body on this desk, showing you how crazy the hours by your side are making him.

And looking down at you, he smirks. Moving to touch the mouse, his hand lands on yours softly, dominating your movements.

- What if we change this part of the event? Would it make sense to launch it this way? I want something different - you can barely make any sense of his words, sounding sultry as his hand continues to hold yours, and you can only thank yourself for not taking off your jacket this morning, covering the visible goosebumps that have found their home in your skin, now.

There it is. The sparks showing up again, the heat radiating from both of your bodies, making it hard for each other to breathe. Lewis’ face gets dangerously close to yours, taking in your features, his lips so close for you to take in yours, his arm almost embracing your side as he continues leaning on your chair.

You never felt so close to giving in to something capable of igniting your insides in a matter of seconds. And God, how badly you wish you could. But you can’t shush the little voice in the back of your head, telling you how he is a work client, after all. How you are just here to coordinate his project, and especially how your boss won’t be happy if he finds out about the slightest thing happening between you and one of the most important clients of this company.

Unfortunately, you let that voice win. Clearing your throat once again, you take your hand from under Lewis’, getting up from your seat to go grab a glass of water, desperately needing to put out the fire that continuously threatens to consume your mind and body.

- So, you were saying you want something different for the launch? What’s on your mind? Maybe if you explain it to me, I can make it come true - you ask from the middle of the room now, leaving the man to hold himself up on an empty chair, trying to regain his breath and mentality as well, now.

He doesn’t have a single doubt that you could make all his dreams come true, even the most breathtaking ones that he keeps having every night, dreaming of the way his name leaves your lips, how your touch feels soft against his own, ever since the first time he got to shake your hand.

But maybe this is pointless. Maybe you two just really need to calm down, and Lewis needs to rethink his next steps at your meetings. So, looking down at his watch, he sighs.

- I have to go, I’m sorry Y/N. I’ll just email you my ideas, okay? Not out of your office hours, of course. - he shows you a small smile, trying to pretend like he isn’t just chickening out because you keep driving him wild, eating away all his sanity.

- It’s always a pleasure, Miss. I’ll see you next week - shaking your hand, he shoots a wink in your direction, making you smile gently, watching him leave your office, and almost leaving behind this emptiness that now surrounds the space around you.

Sitting down on your chair again, you sigh. Feeling helpless, and almost a bit sad to see him go, you look at the clock on your computer, realizing that you have only spent an hour together, thinking of the way you cleared your entire morning, planning on having a longer meeting with him. But maybe this is for the better, so neither of you ends up doing something crazy that you might regret later.

Dumb ass, Lewis mutters under his breath, entering his car, only to stay still in his seat, sighing frustratedly as he stares at the horizon. I have to go? Where the fuck do you have to go, dumb ass? You two had the entire morning only to yourselves and you just left? Lewis, get your fucking shit together - the man says out loud, calling himself out at the ridiculous decision he just made, leaving you alone at your office, only because he decided that he wasn’t capable of dealing with the powerful feelings emanating between your bodies.

To tell the truth, he just doesn’t want to ruin it. He doesn't want to make you feel like he is rushing something, even if he can feel that you share the exact same feelings and sensations as him.

Disappointed and angry at himself, he decides to drive home. Going back to knock on your office door would just make him look even more stupid. What would you even say to her? Oh, turns out I don’t have to leave? That would just make you look even more ridiculous - he continues to argue with himself, sighing exasperatedly as he distances himself from your company building, from the place he could find you in, spending the entire morning alone with you, just as he has been dreaming for the past days.

And yet again, Lewis goes home thinking about you. About your eyes, that seem capable of sending bullets straight to his heart, your slender legs that looked so perfectly hugged by the skirt you were wearing today. His mind wanders through every new detail that he keeps learning about you, wishing he could become the pen that slowly touches your plump lips while you put your brain to work, organizing your train of thought before writing down your ideas.

Behind the door to your office, you still have your entire morning free, and you could use it to go have a nice breakfast at your favorite bakery, you could work on all projects you have on your hands right now. But no. Instead, you continuously refresh your email, waiting for the ideas that Lewis said he would send you.

You lock and unlock your phone a bunch of times, hoping he would say something, even if he would just clog your entire phone with pictures of what he wants to do for this investment. You just want to hear from him, to get something more from him, craving his presence since you almost got a taste of him this morning.

This isn’t right. You shouldn’t feel like this, you shouldn’t act like this at your workplace. You shouldn’t feel like a void has taken care of you just because he left. He’s just a client, you are just going to coordinate this project for him, and that’s it. Once all of this is done, you probably won’t even see him again. And now, you need to wait an entire week for him to show up once more.

Or maybe not. Tossing and turning in his bed that night, Lewis is feeling the desperation hitting his body, wishing you were lying by his side, so he could touch your smooth skin, smell your perfume, recording the scent on his pillow so he could feel you close to him whenever he would miss you.

He doesn’t want to explore your perspective on this project only, he wants to explore your perspective in life, maybe while you’re wrapped in between the sheets with him. The fact that he has never felt this way before, makes his knees buckle every time he thinks about you, about the way you make him burn with desire, with curiosity to discover you, so your bodies can finally meet.

But he can’t deny how powerless you make him feel, even if he tries to play it cool and use his strong mask, acting all tough around you, you could make him crumble in seconds just with your eyes, let alone with your touch on his body.

He needs to see you again, he wants to see you again. It’s like his brain can’t even process other information that’s not related to you, not even thinking twice before sending you a quick text at 4:39 am. 'Can we please have an emergency meeting tomorrow morning? We are having some issues with the plans for the line.' And with a heavy breath leaving his body, he presses send, hoping you will reply back with a ‘yes’.

Startled by your phone ringing in the middle of your slumber, you try to read the message you received, even if your eyes are almost fully closed. Seeing Lewis’ name on the screen is enough to make you rub your face, trying to wake up faster so you can find out the reason as to why he is texting you in the middle of the night.

Furrowing your eyebrows, a groan escapes your lips. Great, more work problems, as if your week isn’t chaotic enough already. Looking at it from the bright side, you will see Lewis again, even if it’s in the middle of solving problems, of getting some work done, maybe without that much time to banter as you usually do, but just seeing him again will be enough for you.

I can make some time after my first meeting of the day. 10:45 am in my office? - you reply back, lying on your pillow again, trying to go back to sleep when your phone rings one last time with a simple 'Perfect. Thank you, Y/N.'

You would be lying if you said that the thought of having him inside your office again tomorrow morning isn’t making some butterflies appear in your stomach, making it hard for you to fall asleep. But above all, you need to keep your focus, even if he is a very pleasant sight to look at, that’s all he is. Nothing more.

There’s a smile plastered on Lewis’ face once he reads your answer to his prayer. You said yes. You will make time to see him, to allow him to look at your gorgeous features again, to hear your voice shushing away all his intrusive thoughts.

He knows there’s not a problem with anything yet for you to fix, but he will make sure to figure something out, just looking for an excuse to see you again as soon as possible, without having to wait an entire week - wanting to redeem himself for his stupid attitude that he gave you this morning, when he walked away from your meeting.

Thursday, 10:35 am. Lewis is already waiting for you to be freed from your current meeting so he can see you. Wearing a navy blue jacket, his hands hold two coffees, and a small bag that has some scones inside of it, in the hopes of making your stressful morning a little more sweet with his presence, and the small cakes.

Your meeting runs a little late, and it’s already 10:57 am when you’re able to call his name, asking him to please follow you to your office. Opening the door, you encourage him to walk inside, noticing how he doesn’t seem as confident to erupt through your space again as he did yesterday.

Still, he sits down, putting the coffees and the small bag of pastries on your desk as he waits for you to join him. He has a soft smile on his features, almost as if he is feeling nervous, and he is. This morning, you have some music playing at a low volume in your office, and the man is quick to search for it while you are still at the door, talking to your secretary.

Thanking God for the power of technology, he finds out that you are listening to Daniel Caesar's ‘best part’ before you notice that he is actually shazamming the song.

He sips on his own coffee slowly, listening to the melody and the lyrics of the track, realizing how fitting it feels for this moment. Seeing you this morning is definitely the best part of his entire day.

You sit down in front of him, smiling at the cup of coffee waiting for you.

- I already had coffee this morning, Lewis. But thank you - you politely say, putting the cup to the side, saving some sips for later. - Oh no. A bit more caffeine won’t hurt, will it? - he jokes, making you shake your head at his antics. - I also brought some scones, maybe they’ll make your morning a bit more sweet. - Do you want me to go crazy with the amount of caffeine you want me to put in my body, Mr. Prick?! - you joke, laughing in unison with him. - I’ll take the scones though, I am really in need of something that will lighten up my day. - you explain, taking a bite out of one pastry.

Something to lighten up your day? That’s me, Y/N. - Lewis thinks to himself, feeling his heart racing in his chest at the sight of you, looking so beautiful, so bright and bubbly as ever.

Even if the carnal desires erupting from your bodies are evident, the man is starting to realize that it’s so, so much more than just that. Yes, he wants to hold your body close to his, bringing you to the edge of pleasure, seeing you roll your eyes to the back of your brain as you moan his name, but he also wants to hug you, to kiss your cheeks softly, to taste your lips that he’s positive that are sweeter than a scone, he wants you to caress his scalp, he wants to share a coffee and pastries with you more and more, hearing your ideas, your life perspectives, studying the way your amazing brain works.

He’s been thinking about it for some days now. Realizing that, whenever he thinks of you, he just doesn’t think of sex only, he thinks of nice encounters at your favourite bakery, he thinks of getting you flowers in the morning, just to see your adorable smile in your sleepy face, to the sight of your favourite flowers in his hand. And maybe that’s why he’s feeling softer, today. The tough guy façade will soon fade away, the more you grow on him, the more he dreams about you, wishing he could spend more days and moments by your side.

- Daniel Caesar is already a nice vibe for a stressful day - he tells you, his head slowly moving to the tune playing in the background, making you realize that you still have music playing on your computer, feeling way too overwhelmed to remember it. - Oh! Sorry. I like to listen to music when I’m alone, especially if I’m stressed. But I forgot it was playing - you quickly reply, turning it down immediately. - Why did you turn it down? I thought it was fitting for our meeting. Seeing you might be the best part of my stressful day as well - there. You said it, Lewis. You shouldn’t have said it, but you did, and now she’s not replying. She’s blushing, but she’s not replying. She’s definitely smiling at your words, but she’s not saying anything back. But God, she looks so cute when she gets shy.

It’s an internal battle with himself, hating the fact that he couldn’t hold his words inside, but loving the effect they had on you, making your cheeks turn into his favourite shade of pink, the cutest smile on your lips as you share a scone with him, silently agreeing with him. And that’s enough to make his heart flutter.

- So, what’s wrong? - you break the mood once again, focusing on the reason why he woke you up at 4 am. - Huh? - the man says while biting down his scone, lost in his thoughts. - What’s wrong? What happened for you to text me at 4 am and schedule an emergency meeting today? - you ask again, noticing the man’s lost face expression.

Nothing’s wrong, I just wanted to see you. No, you can’t say that, you idiot. She’s at work, she’ll think you don’t take her job seriously enough to schedule pointless meetings while she has her hands full of projects she should be focusing on, instead of wasting her time having scones with you.

- Oh, yeah. About that… There’s a problem with the fabric suppliers, apparently they won’t be able to deliver all the materials necessary in time for the date we want to launch the clothing line. - his brain is fast to make up an excuse, finding something that can count as an issue that sounds bad enough for him to come to your office outside your weekly meetings.

However, now you’re the one feeling lost in the subject. Your eyebrows are furrowed, trying to decipher what’s going on.

- That sucks Lewis, but I am not the one that can solve that problem. I am coordinating the project, meaning I only get to intervene once the clothes are done, so we can prepare the launching, the charity side of the line and all that. You’re the one who can do something about it, you need to speak to the suppliers directly, or send someone else to do it for you - you are quick to explain, seeing the way his face falls, as if that wasn’t the answer he was expecting.

Shit. Does this mean that this meeting is over? We have nothing more to talk about? Not a problem in sight to solve? I have to go? Now that the coffee and the scones were tasting so delicious at the sight of the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever laid my eyes on? She’s looking at her watch, she must be in a hurry, she must have more important things to do. You shouldn’t be selfish to the point of wanting her all to yourself while she’s buried in work, but unfortunately you are. Think, Lewis. Use your brain for once and fucking come up with something.

- Oh, can’t you be the one talking to them instead? - that’s all you can come up with? No wonder she thinks you’re a prick. You’re asking this woman to talk to a supplier who hasn’t done anything wrong, are you fucking stupid? Don’t answer that, brain - I’m good.

The way your eyebrows are quick to fly up your face, tells him how weird that idea was.

- Me? I don’t think that’s a good idea - you chuckle, sipping on the coffee the man brought you. - Well, why not? Maybe if you call them pricks like you do to me, they’ll get the job done. You’re the boss of this project, after all. I’m just dropping my ideas from time to time - he shows you a cheeky smile, one that makes you shake your head at his words, with a laugh escaping your lips. You’re the boss of my mind, at least.

You get up from your seat, a silent way of telling him that it’s time for him to go - even if you don’t want him to go, even if you would rather hear his jokes all day, making you forget all the problems at work.

- Maybe you can try and solve it yourself, and then give me some feedback, alright? - you tell him with a smile. - I guess Mr. Prick will see what he can do - Lewis replied, taking his coffee cup with him as he leaves your office. - See you on Wednesday, Y/N.

23 minutes. That’s all you got from an emergency meeting that you didn’t even plan correctly so you could have some more time with her. In between the scones and the music, you got 23 minutes of what your insides hoped to be the rest of the day, the entire night, tomorrow, all your hours dedicated to her.

At least, you got to look into her eyes once again, Lewis. You made her laugh, helped release some tension from her shoulders with the scones. Gotta give you that, it could be worse.

But it also could be a lot better. That’s why Lewis goes back home with this feeling itching in his chest. He just wants to spend more and more time by your side, so why can’t he?

He already has the weekly meeting with you, every Wednesday morning. And as the weeks pass by, the driver stops chickening out, spending all morning in between the four walls of your office, sharing his ideas, mixing them with your own for the project, sometimes focusing on work, other times paying more attention to the way your hands softly touch when you’re passing on papers to the other, how your figures meet when you’re side by side, organizing design visuals at your desk, how you lose yourselves in the other’s eyes.

But a weekly meeting doesn’t seem enough, doesn’t feel enough. So the man starts ruining small things here and there, causing inoffensive problems that are good enough to justify another emergency meeting with you - to which he would always show up with your favourite coffee and scones, almost creating this chaotic yet pleasant tradition, finding peace when he’s with you, even while dealing with the chaos of the little problems he created.

You can’t deny that you find it weird that every week, emergency meetings with Lewis seem to have become something mandatory on your schedule - sometimes over the smallest things that definitely didn’t require a meeting to be solved.

But as the banter, the laughs, the soft conversations and touches kept growing, the air around you two got more comfortable as well - or maybe, you’re the one who got used to breathing in between the flames he causes to erupt on your body.

Every night feels lonely while you dream of him, your head lying on the pillow where you’ve whispered his name already - without even having touched him yet, addicted to his perfume that seems to get attached to your clothes once you started hugging each other, instead of just shaking hands. Every time you get to feel just a small ounce of his touch, you swear you could get lost in it, in him, and never wanting to come back to reality.

However, as much as you might feel this way towards him, you’re not sure if Lewis feels the same way, or if this is just a fun game to him. And even if he might, in a parallel reality, share the same emotions as you, you’re pretty sure that he will never make a move, and you definitely can’t even equationate doing it, because your job is on the line. And that’s why the desire for him is the only thing lulling you to sleep every night.

Lewis has been getting lost in his own thoughts and fantasies as well, picturing every single thing he would do to you, imagining how different his days would be if you were by his side, completely hooked on you - dying a little more every week, as the will to hold you, to touch you, grows at an insane pace, only for him to have to fight it, using all the power in himself to restrain his movements around you, so he won’t lose it.

He has never been so sure of his feelings, and that’s why it kills him to see your dynamic when you’re together, the girl of his dreams right in front of him, falling in love with you the more he gets to know you, the more time he spends with you.

When he got to hug you for the first time, sensing your hand on his shoulder softly as you got ready to say goodbye after another meeting, your bodies got closer than usual, and he invited you for a first hug, to which you happily complied.

God, he could lose it right then and there. Chanting victory in his head just because he got to hug you once, celebrating the small wins you give him from time to time, the man was ready to confess his love for you in that second, when your noses almost touched once you broke the hug.

He wants to see you outside of work - that’s the thing he wants the most right now, and he would give up on anything for it to become true. But, as he continuously messes up with your work schedule, requiring more and more meetings outside of his weekly hour, the more you roll your eyes at his antics, the more you call him a ‘prick’.

It was fun seeing your reaction at first, laughing every time you would call him that, while the banter was light and meaningless. But now, Lewis can’t sleep, wondering if you are growing tired of him, feeling annoyed every time the man shows up at your office with another problem, making you work extra hours on those days, due to the amount of times you have to change your schedule to fit his ‘emergencies’.

Would you possibly say no, if he would gain the courage to ask you out? That thought haunts him every night, every week, at every meeting, every time he looks you in the eyes, every time you smile at him - so sweet, so innocent, but with the power of breaking his entire heart in half.

Besides that, he knows how you’re focused on your job, and he doesn’t want you to lose your position at the company because of him. He knows how this is important for you and your career, how you always remain professional, even when he might say something a bit more cheeky, trying to get you to loosen up a bit more. So maybe that’s another valid reason that would make you say no.

But once again, he needs to be selfish. He can’t wait so many months until the project is finally done, waiting for the time when you two are no longer business partners, when all the professional meetings will come to an end, to finally ask you out.

After all, he doesn’t want to lose contact with you. He doesn’t want you to stop working with him either. But he can’t continue to feel like this, every meeting feeling like absolute torture that he needs to endure on his body, restraining from touching the goddess in front of him, never allowing his dreams to become reality.

It’s been five weeks since the first time you saw each other, and it’s been around ten times that he has been inside your office, ten times you two had to keep from giving in to temptation, resisting to what your bodies so desperately beg the two of you.

And to tell the truth, you’re both growing tired of it. Lewis reads between the lines every time you give in just a little, always focusing on how professional you must remain at all times. So he knows that this one must be on him.

After weeks of debating with himself whether he should do it or not, he weighs the pros and cons of gaining the courage to finally asking you out: you can say yes, and that would be the most perfect scenario he can picture in his head, finally allowing him to see you outside of work, exploring you further away from the suits and the office you’re safely kept in; or you could say no, leaving him to deal with a broken heart, crushing all his expectations and dreams that you’re in.

With a deep breath, he makes a decision: he will ask you out, and if you say yes: perfect. If you say no, he feels like he has no choice rather than to choose someone else to work on this project with, not feeling like he would be able to deal with seeing you every week after being rejected by the only person that he has ever desired this much.

Wednesday, 9:24 am. As always, Lewis is already waiting for you at the small sofa near your office door, admiring your figure as you arrive to open the door for the man.

You stopped buying your own coffees every Wednesday, knowing that Lewis will already be waiting for you with two cups of coffee and scones in his hand, like the little tradition you started in your office.

Walking inside, both of you quickly make yourselves comfortable, getting used to your meetings, to each other’s presence. This morning, you feel all the stress of this week on your shoulders - having to deal with extremely tight deadlines, getting little to no sleep for the last couple of nights.

Lewis can feel your heavy energy, trying to lighten up the mood with a joke here and there, only to notice how you crack very little this time. You’re not joking back, your smile is smaller than it has been in the other weeks. He’s not a quitter, but for now, he just decides to tone down his snarky replies, listening attentively to your professional speech, stepping up to talk about the project with you.

When you ask him to check some visuals with you on the computer screen, he does what he has been doing since the first meeting - gets up, meeting you on your side of the desk, to lean his body over yours, feeding the both of you with some soft yet intense touch of the moment your bodies meet for some minutes.

You are too overwhelmed with work and information to even pay that much attention to his body reaching so close to you today, so you continue to complain about how neither of the designs seem to fit the ideas that you two came up with, how you need to ask the designers to work on something new and different, how this will delay the launching of the clothing line even more, how this is all a tragedy.

He’s looking down at you with a soft smile on his features, finding you adorable while stressing over something so trivial like colors and lines of a design, as if it’s the end of the world. You’re speaking fast, barely catching any air in your lungs as you are now venting about how stressed you feel today - your eyes focused on the computer screen in front of you, not even daring to look at the man’s face right now.

If he could, he would cup your face in his hands, reaching slowly so your lips could meet in a loving kiss, shushing away all your worries, grounding you again so you could breathe through his lungs, bringing all the oxygen back to your body, to your mind. But, in the situation you’re currently in, he can’t. And that kills him so much that he decides to leave all his fears behind as well, gaining the courage to interrupt your train of complaints.

- Wouldn’t you rather rant over a nice dinner? I think you once mentioned you like Italian food? - he says cheeky, even if his insides are trembling with anxiety, afraid of your reaction. Please say yes, please say yes. Please.

You stop talking, finally turning your head to him, your features meeting his soft ones - the smile that you love seeing on his face so much, so close to you once again, almost making it impossible for you to keep your impulses to yourself.

- What? - a nervous chuckle leaves your throat, as if you’re not quite understanding what he’s telling you. You heard me. - For dinner, Y/N. Italian? Indian? Mexican? I don’t know, what do you prefer? - he insists, his arms still resting on your chair and your desk as before, but somehow making you feel as if you are trapped now.

Soon enough, realization washes over you - he’s really making a move, one that you never thought he would be capable of making. In a matter of seconds, a knowing smile paints your lips as well.

- You want to take me out for dinner? What if I say no? - it’s your turn to defy him now, expectant to hear his reply. I don’t think you want to say no. - That’s not an option - the man is quick to say, his confidence growing inside of him as he reads your facial expressions, learning how to decipher you throughout the time. - Oh? - you say surprised, with an eyebrow raised. - That’s not an option? Then I guess I have no options - you inform him, shrugging before you leave your seat on the chair, walking over to the opposite side of the desk, trying to physically escape the hold he has on you. Don’t run away from me when you feel the same way as I do. - Your only option is to say yes and to let me take you on a date. It’s been time, now - he confesses, sincerity splattered all over his eyes, even when the typical smirk threatens to steal all the attention. - You’re ambitious - that’s all you say, feeling all the weight coming back to lay on your shoulders, your heart racing in a way that it hasn’t in a long time, now. - You should’ve known that by now. I never stop fighting until I get what I want. - he states confidently. And I want you. So insanely bad. You’re everything I can think about on a daily basis. You’re driving me mad.

A moment of silence fills the space between you two - and it’s not the comfortable type. It’s the heavy, dark, uncomfortable type of silence, the one that nobody enjoys.

Please, say something. Don’t grow silent on me, not after everything I just said, after the touches we shared, the glances, the coffees, the jokes, the silly conversations. Please.

Lewis grows nervous to the point of being scared that you might leave the room, not knowing what to expect from you right now. But even if you do, he’s positive that he will beg you on his knees for you to stay, to not turn your back to him.

Your mind starts spiralling, questioning if this should really happen or not, feeling divided between your heart and your mind, each one having a different opinion, almost like the angel and the devil that are fighting a battle on your shoulders.

You never thought Lewis would have the courage to really make this move, startling your senses a bit at his audacity. If you’re being honest with yourself, there’s nothing you want more than to finally go out with him, to discover all the other sides of the driver besides what you get to see inside your office.

But unfortunately, when weighing the pros and cons, there are more important things on the line here, things that you can’t allow yourself to lose. So, maybe, you truly are left without an option, having only one possible answer to give him - preparing yourself to deal with the consequences that this might bring you.

#the secret of us series #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton oneshot #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

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valeisaslut · 3 months ago

Text

Undercover desire Pt.2 - mdni (+18)

clic to read pt.1!

⚢ pairing: Secret agent!Ellie Williams x Secret agent!Reader 𖥔 ݁ ˖

ෆ synopsis: You and Ellie were here to complete the job—not to get tangled up in each other. But after barely managing to escape, the tension ignites into something far more dangerous. The real threat isn’t the mission anymore… it’s what happens if you give in. Either way, it’s going to explode. 𖥔 ݁ ˖

⭑ word count: 5.7k 𖥔 ݁ ˖

♱ content: enemies tu lovers, smut!!, dom!Ellie, sub/switch!reader, scissoring, fingering (r! receiving), oral sex (r! receiving), cum eating, hair pulling, pet names, VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LMAO, lots of cursing, blood, bombs, use of firearms, violence, helicopter?? . MINORS AND MEN DNI!!! 𖥔 ݁ ˖

࿐♡ ˚.*ೃ Heyyyy! Sorry to keep ya'll waiting but pt.2 is here and is here for GOOD, i got a little excited with the plot and felt i was in a movie, so sorry if it a little very unrealistic. English isn't my first language, so if there's some misspelling or writing mistakes I will be happy to receive constructive criticism <3 𖥔 ݁ ˖

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The narrow hallway led to a larger room, dimly lit by a soft emergency light. The walls were lined with metal panels, covered in pinned-up documents, while monitors flickered with data in Russian. In the center, a table overflowed with files.

Your heart pounded.

This is it.

This was the information you had been chasing. The secret experiment that justified every bullet dodged, every high-speed chase, and every dangerously close call with Ellie. This was the mission’s objective.

You rushed forward, grabbing one of the files just as she did the same on the other side of the table. The words Проект кордицепс (Project Cordyceps) were printed on the first page.

"This is even bigger than we thought" you murmured, flipping through the documents.

“Since when do you speak Russian?” Ellie asked, watching you read through the files with ease.

“Looks like someone didn't finish reading my file and skipped the mandatory Russian course.”

“Sorry, know-it-all. I just kept reading until the part where it said your specialty was firearms.” She said, but now looking up at you with a serious expression. “...So, what is it about?”

“Bioweapon experiments with something called Cordyceps. Looks like they’re testing this kind of fungus on human subjects, and it causes them brain infection." you said grimly. "This isn’t just research… it’s fucking extermination."

A noise in the hallway made you freeze. They were footsteps, and they were coming towards you quickly. You locked eyes with Ellie, and just as you turned to the exit, the door bursted open. In seconds, she grabbed the documents and stuffed them inside her jacket.

Before you could react, a guard stormed in, gun raised. A shot rang out.

But it wasn’t aimed at either of you.

The bullet struck a security pipe above your heads, releasing an unknown gas into the room.

Your lungs burned instantly. With blurry, stinging eyes, you barely managed to see that the only exit was blocked. No time. No options. The gas overwhelmed you in seconds, dragging you under. The last thing you heard was the dull thud of your own body collapsing on the floor.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your consciousness returned in waves, like a distant echo filtering through the pain and confusion. Your head throbbed with a dull, pounding buzz, and when you tried to move, a harsh tug at your wrists made you groan. Tied.

The material was thick, rough against your skin. Rope or some kind of industrial binding—tight enough to cut off your circulation if you struggled too hard. Your wrists were secured firmly to a pipe along the wall.

You opened your eyes, quickly scanning the room. A single flickering light in the corner barely illuminated the space. The concrete walls were bare except for a single metal door. No furniture, no windows, nothing that hinted an easy escape.

Great. You ended up in a damn makeshift cell.

The cold from the floor seeped through your clothes, but then you noticed a warm pressure against your back. A musky forest-like scent seeped into your nose, surrounding you.

Ellie.

As if this couldn’t get any worse.

Your breathing was shallow as you tried to ignore the way your legs were tangled with hers, the way your heartbeat—fast, intense—drummed against your chest.

"Look who finally decided to wake up." Ellie's voice was a rough whisper, hoarse from dryness.

Even tied up in a cell, with her wrists bound, she still manages to sound smug.

You clicked your tongue, the metallic taste of blood lingering on your lips.

"You’ve got to be fucking kidding me." you muttered.

You tried moving your arms, but the rope only tightened against your skin. Worse, it pulled you even closer to Ellie.

"Stop moving." she grumbled, barely hiding her exasperation.

"Stop breathing in my ear" you shot back, feeling heat creeping up your neck.

"Kinda hard when you’re practically on top of me." There was an unmistakable hint of amusement in her voice, which only made your irritation spike.

"This is so stupid." you sighed.

After a few minutes of silence in which you continued trying to think of every single way to escape, you heard her teasing voice again.

"You know," Ellie mused, her soft laugh vibrating against your chest. "When I imagined you being tied up with me, I didn't exactly imagine it like this."

A smirk curled on her lips. "But hey, I’ll take what I can get."

"Can you stop being annoying for just one damn second?" you hissed in a low, threatening whisper, tugging hard against the rope.

Yours and Ellie's wrists were bound separately, and that didn’t make things any easier. You tried pulling once again, but all it did was tangle your legs with hers even more.

"Yep, that’s not getting you anywhere." she said, obvious amusement in her tone.

You shot her a glare.

"Got any better ideas, genius?"

She leaned in just enough for her lips to graze the edge of your jaw. A shiver ran down your spine.

"You sure you wanna hear 'em?" she murmured, her warm breath ghosting over your skin.

You clenched your jaw, ignoring the way your pulse betrayed you, racing under her touch. You knew exactly what she was doing—getting a kick out of watching you lose control. Like always.

The door creaked open, halting whatever the hell was going on between you two. Heavy boots echoed against the concrete, followed by a second pair—lighter, but just as menacing.

The first man to step inside was tall, dressed in a black jacket buttoned up to his neck, a thin scar cutting across his left cheek. His sharp, dark eyes swept over you both with the cold precision of a predator sizing up its prey.

The other man, shorter but with the rigid stance of a trained soldier, lingered near the door, a gun resting against his thigh.

The taller stopped barely a foot away, his presence dominating the room with an eerie kind of calm—more unsettling than any threat or outburst could ever be.

"Two foreign spies in my base? Now that’s unexpected." he muttered, his deep voice laced with sarcasm and a thick Russian accent.

Your jaw tightened. You tried shifting forward, but the rope bit into your wrists.

"I have no idea what you’re talking about."

The man let out a dry, humorless chuckle, like he’d just heard the worst joke of his life.

"I'm curious..." he said, crouching slightly and resting his hands on his knees as he studied you both with the slow amusement of someone who enjoyed crushing things under his boot.

"What is so interesting about our project that you both walked straight into your own deaths?"

Your mind raced, searching for an escape, a distraction—anything that could give you an advantage. Before you could come up with a response, Ellie spoke in that deadly, indifferent tone of hers.

"If we told you, you’d have to kill us."

The leader’s dark eyes settled on Ellie, a slow, twisted smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Ah… such a mouthy little bitch. Don’t get your hopes up—I’m going to kill you both anyway."

The air in the cell grew even heavier, thick with the weight of his threat. The flickering light above casted long, trembling shadows on the concrete walls, twisting his silhouette into something monstrous-like.

Ellie sighed, tilting her head like she was about to yawn.

"What a pity. I was hoping you’d at least offer us something more interesting."

"There is no deal. You rats stepped into the wrong place. And now, you pay the price." His voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "Tell me—who sent you? Who else knows you're here?"

You rolled your eyes.

"You really think we’re gonna tell you?"

The man sighed, straightening up as he gave a small nod to one of the guards. The soldier obeyed, pulling a knife from his belt and stepping forward.

"I wanted to do this the easy way... but you didn't give me much of a choice."

Ellie glanced at you from the corner of her eye, something dangerous sparking behind her gaze. Then, she smirked. A small, deliberate gesture. She gave you a subtle nod, waiting for your signal.

Without hesitation, you nodded back.

Screw the "trust no one" rule.

In a blur, Ellie lurched forward. The movement almost looked choreographed—she caught the knife between her boots before the guard even had a chance to react, locking the blade between her feet with lethal precision.

"What the—?!"

The scream barely left his lips before Ellie twisted sharply, driving the knife deep into the man's flesh. A howl of pain filled the cell as he stumbled back, clutching his wounded leg, blood spilling onto the concrete.

She used the chaos to her advantage, yanking the rope she was tied up with brutal force. It snapped, finally freeing her. With animal precision, she slammed her forehead against the leader’s face in a vicious headbutt. A sickening crack echoed through the room, followed by a muffled grunt.

In less than two minutes, she had taken them both down.

And you thought she couldn't get more attractive.

"You still got the files?" you panted. There was no way you were leaving empty-handed.

Ellie sliced the last of the rope on her wrists, then slipped a hand into the inner pocket of her jacket with infuriating calm. She pulled out just the corner of the gray file, smirking at your expression.

"Those idiots were dumb enough not to check me properly." Her voice was mocking, but her eyes gleamed with sharp satisfaction.

After a few seconds under her piercing gaze, your expression shifted to a clear Well? What are you waiting for?. It was obvious—you expected her next move to be untying you.

"You know…" she murmured suddenly, mischief curling at the edge of her lips, "You look pretty good all tied up. Maybe I should just leave you like this."

You rolled your eyes.

"No time for jokes, Williams. Cut them. Now."

Ellie tilted her head slightly, lips curving into a half-smile.

"I love it when you get all bossy."

With a quick flick of the knife, she sliced through the ropes in one smooth motion and helped you get back to your feet.

The wounded guard had just enough strength left to throw a clumsy punch in your direction, but you were already waiting for it. You dodged easily, shifting to the side before driving your elbow straight into his jaw. Out cold in one strike. Without hesitation, you grabbed the gun from his belt and leveled it at him.

"Damn, princess." Ellie muttered, genuinely impressed.

The wounded leader managed to get back to his feet, blood dripping from his nose, but his expression remained eerily composed. Then, without a word, he reached out and slammed his palm against a button on the wall before you could stop him.

The deafening blare of an alarm tore through the air like a blade. In the distance, the echo of hurried footsteps pounded through the hallways.

Reinforcements. You cursed under your breath.

“Fuck! we need to get out of here!”

“Yeah, and fast.” Ellie replied, starting to run with you.

The lights flickered violently, casting erratic flashes against the concrete walls as you sprinted at full speed. Behind you, the shouts of injured guards mixed with the thunder of boots closing in. The blaring alarms drowned out everything else, turning your escape into an unbearable countdown.

“Ellie, the door!” you shouted, pointing at the hatch at the end of the hallway.

She didn’t hesitate, bolting towards the exit. You pushed yourself to follow, but not before raising the gun and firing straight at the control panel on the wall. Sparks erupted in a bright burst before everything plunged into complete obscurity.

The darkness was your salvation.

Chaos turned into confusion. Amidst the yelling and stomping of boots, you both ran blindly, guided only by instinct. The emergency doors bursted open with a loud clang, and a rush of freezing air slammed against your faces.

And then, you saw it. The heliport, glowing under the blinking tower lights. And more soldiers waiting for you.

Ellie skidded to a stop, panting.

“Tell me you’ve got a plan.”

You grinned.

“It really shows you didn’t finish reading my file.”

Reaching into your jacket, you pulled out a small metal cylinder. One last explosive. Without a second thought, you hurled it straight at a fuel tank.

A sharp whistle. A flicker of fire.

And then—the explosion.

Flames roared in a blinding flash, consuming the platform in a wild dance of destruction. The shockwave rocked the ground beneath you, and the screams of soldiers were drowned out by the deafening blast.

But there was no time to worry about the damage. You grabbed Ellie by the wrist and shoved her towards the helicopter waiting at the edge, it's engine roaring defiantly against the chaos.

“Get in!”

Ellie moved quickly to the control panel, starting to pilot with remarkable expertise. The helicopter lurched into the air, wobbling like a wounded animal before steadying. Below, the enemy base shrank into a mess of lights and tiny silhouettes, their shouts drowned out by the deafening whirl of the rotors.

The helicopter managed to elevate high enough to start the getaway, speeding as fast as posible away from the base. Taking a deep breath, you slumped back against the seat, your heartbeat hammering in your ears.

But the victory only lasted a few minutes.

A gunshot slammed into the side of the chopper, metal groaning under the impact. The entire structure shuddered violently.

“Shit!” Ellie cursed, gripping the controls as the helicopter rocked dangerously. "They hit us!"

Another shot. A deafening bang.

An after that, the sickening feeling of freefall.

The alarms shrieked in a piercing wail as the tail rotor burst into a storm of sparks and fire. The horizon tilted, the world spinning into a blur of flashing lights and black smoke. The helicopter spiraled out of control, a flaming projectile plummeting toward nothingness.

Gravity yanked at you both like an impatient executioner.

Ellie snapped her head towards you, her mind quickly flashing the only possible way of surviving.

“There's parachutes!” she barked, yanking hers from under the seat and tossing you another one without hesitation.

Flames clawed through the cabin, devouring every last breath of oxygen.

“Move!” you growled, fighting against the wind as you made you way to the open door.

With trembling hands, you strapped on the parachute, the searing heat creeping up your back. Ellie was already at the edge, short hair whipping wildly, her lips curling into that adrenaline-fueled smirk as she briefly winked at you.

“See you down there.”

And she jumped.

There was no more time to think.

You sucked in a breath and jumped after her, just as the helicopter erupted into an inferno of fire and twisted metal.

The shockwave hit you like a punch, sending you spinning wildly through the void. The roar of the explosion faded behind you, replaced by the deafening buzzing of the wind tearing your ears. The night stretched below—an endless, dark smear of unknown terrain.

A few hundred meters from the ground, you yanked the parachute cord. A violent jolt ripping through your body as the canopy snapped open, slowing your descent in an abrupt, stomach-turning tug. The air rushed past you, the world tilting as you spiraled downward.

Somewhere in the shadows under you, Ellie was falling too.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You hit the snow with a heavy thud, the impact rattling through your entire body. A shiver ran down your spine as the freezing air bit through your soaked clothes. You sucked in a sharp breath, trying to calm the adrenaline still surging through your veins.

You were alive.

A few meters away, you saw Ellie under the faint glow of the moon. She unfastened her parachute with precise movements, her boots sinking into the snow as she pushed herself up. With an annoyed grunt, she brushed the snow off her pants.

"I’m never getting in a chopper with you again." she muttered, not even bothering to look at you.

"Oh thank you, I’m glad you’re alive too." You rolled your eyes, fingers numb as you struggled with your harness. "Where the hell are we?"

Ellie glanced up, scanning the landscape with a serious expression. Despite the darkness, the silhouette of distant mountains loomed against the cloudy sky, surrounded by an endless stretch of snow covered pines. No signs of civilization. No lights. No roads.

"Screwed." she declared, hands shoved into her pockets like she had seen worse.

You sighed, rubbing your arms in a useless attempt to warm up.

"We have to find shelter before we freeze out here."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

After what felt like hours trudging through the snow, you both stumbled upon an abandoned cabin on the edge of the forest. The place was barely standing—shattered windows, a sagging roof—but the walls were intact, and there was enough scattered wood inside to build a decent fire.

The flames casted a flickering orange glow, sending shadows dancing across the worn out wooden walls. As the fire grew, the warmth slowly eased the tension in your muscles.

"We don’t have enough supplies, but we should stay here for the night." Ellie murmured, her voice low beneath the crackling fire. "In the morning, we’ll look for signal and call the agency for rescue."

"Sounds like a plan." you said, letting silence settle between you.

Then, her voice cut through it.

"C'mere."

You eyed her warily.

"Why?"

"You're freezing." She shrugged, her expression unreadable, patting the floor beside her like she didn’t care whether you accepted or not.

You hesitated. But in the end, you moved closer.

The heat of her body was immediate, wrapping around you. As soon as you sat beside her, Ellie draped an arm over your shoulders, pulling you in until there was barely any space left between you.

"Don’t get any ideas" you muttered, but the frantic beat of your heart betrayed you.

Ellie let out a low, lazy chuckle.

"Too late"

The air between you shifted. It wasn’t just the cold, or the exhaustion, or the comforting warmth of the fire. It was something else. Something dense, something dangerous.

Ellie turned her head just slightly, close enough to study you up close, her green eyes tracing your features in silence. When her gaze lingered on your lips, the air suddenly felt heavier.

Your breaths mingled in the sliver of space between you. The fire crackled, casting golden light across her freckled skin.

How can someone look this damn good after nearly dying fifty times?

"You're still shaking."

Ellie’s voice was a low whisper, rough around the edges, laced with something that felt like a challenge.

"It’s the cold."

Not even you believed that.

She smirked, that infuriating curve of her lips that somehow made you want to strangle her and kiss her at the same time.

"Liar." she murmured, her gaze not wavering in the slightest.

Then, without warning, her fingers brushed against your cheek, agonizingly slow. At first, her touch was cold, but as her fingertips traced the line of your jaw, her skin grew warm against yours. Every movement was deliberate, as if she was committing every inch of your face to memory.

"I can think 'bout other ways to warm me up tho." you murmured, voice laced with defiance.

Ellie’s eyes darkened, her brow lifting ever so slightly before she moved.

"Oh yeah?" her low voice vibrated against your skin.

Before you could react, she had you pinned against the wooden floor, effortlessly trapping you beneath her. Her fingers ghosted over the fabric of your shirt, tracing a slow, deliberate path to your waist.

Your fingers instinctively gripped the fabric of her jacket, trailing along her back. Without realizing it, you’d drawn her even closer. Too close.

Your internal thoughts started shouting you to stop this. That it was highly prohibited.

You are an agent. She's an agent. You are obliged to be strictly coworkers through the entire mission. Nothing more.

"This is against the rules, Ellie..." you whispered against her lips, feeling the warmth of her breath mix with yours. "The agency doesn’t allow—"

"Fuck the agency."

Not even a second after saying that, she closed the mere inches of distance between you.

The world shrank to the feeling of her mouth on yours. There was no rush in her kiss—just a slow-burning intensity, a calculated game where every movement seemed to study you, test you. A declaration of war and surrender all at once.

You stopped caring at all. The inner thoughts suddenly ceased and faded away like they never existed.

Your hands slid down her back as you melted into the kiss, feeling her tense muscles beneath the fabric of her clothes. You sighed into her mouth, fingers gripping her jacket and taking it off without hesitation, pulling her down until she got fully on top of you.

Tilting your head slightly, you caught her lower lip between your teeth, biting down with teasing softness.

Ellie let out a low, dark laugh—almost predatory.

"You’re a damn problem, you know that?" she murmured against your neck, her voice deeper than usual, laced with that mix of amusement and danger that drove you insane.

"And you're an even bigger one." you shot back, a smirk tugging at your lips before kissing her again. You both knew you were crossing a line that had been threatening to break for far too long.

It had already been broken.

Now, all that was left was to enjoy it for as long as you could.

Her lips left yours only to travel along your jaw, trailing downwards with a softness that made you hold your breath—like she was claiming every inch of you without even taking your clothes off.

Your hands moved desperately along her back, taking off her shirt until it hit the floor with a dull thud. You couldn't help the soft gasp that left your lips when you saw her naked chest– freckled, pale, and absolutely breathtaking.

Ellie’s hand shamelessly slipped under your shirt, her cold fingertips tracing the curve of your spine, moving agonizingly slow before gripping your waist with enough force to make you arch into her. Her other hand found your thigh, gripping it firmly as she shifted to wrap your legs around her hips.

"You’re way more fun when you’re not fighting back." She muttered against your skin.

"Shut up."

"Make me." she challenged with a fiery look before biting down and sucking the curve of your neck.

Before you could respond, she lifted your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. You couldn’t have cared less where it landed. A slow, deep sigh escaped her lips as her gaze roamed over your bare torso, lingering on the thin barrier of your red bra.

Her hand slid went slowly down your back, already working to take off your bra as well. She lifted her gaze, silently asking for permission. The moment she caught your slight nod she unclasped it in one swift, fluid motion. The garment slid down your shoulders, and you moved your arms to let it fall completely.

"You’re fucking perfect." She bit her lip in anticipation before lowering her mouth back to you.

Her lips latched onto your breasts immediately, her tongue circling one of your hardened nipples slowly. With your hand tangled in her hair, you pulled at it roughly, making her groan against your skin.

While her mouth stayed busy, her hands slipped inside your pants, forcing your legs to part even wider for her. You bit your lip, trying to suppress a gasp when her fingers brushed against your clit through your panties.

As her lips moved back up to meet your pulse point, a broken moan escaped your lips as she sucked harshly on the sensitive skin in a way that made you shiver.

"No marks…" you murmured shakily, feeling Ellie huff against your neck in annoyance.

Logic spoke for you in that moment, but if you'd listened to your desires, you would’ve let her mark your neck with hickeys until it was completely purple.

"Why not?" She pressed another hot kiss against your pulse. She almost sounded like a pouty kid being told she couldn’t have what she wanted.

"Isn’t it obvious?" you whispered. "I can’t just walk into the office covered in hickeys right after a mission with you. It would give us away."

"Jesus, just let go for once…" she murmured, brushing her nose against yours. "Stop worrying so much, those dumbasses won't even notice."

Any response died on your tongue when Ellie kissed you with a burning intensity, the pressure of her lips turning into slow, teasing strokes of her tongue against yours. Her knee slipped between your thighs. You gasped, and she only deepened the kiss, as if she’d been craving this for years.

And before you could notice, her hand pinned your wrists above your head.

"Now, you gonna stop telling me what to do?"

The sound of your zipper opening made your breath hitch. Your back arched, and partly to give her more access, partly because this felt so damn good that you needed more. More of this, more of her.

And when Ellie yanked your pants off and tossed them aside without even glancing at them, a wave of heat shot straight through you.

The look in her eyes was completely predatory.

You were wearing red lace panties, and they matched the bra.

And only now you realized how obvious you must look.

"Ah… you knew this was gonna happen" Ellie accuses, taking them off quickly and giving your wrists a slight squeeze. "Fantasizing about your mission partner, huh? Such a dirty little thing..."

"I'm sure I'm not the only one here that has." you said, fighting back, but not denying it. There was no point in doing so.

She released your wrists and grabbed a fistful of your hair in her hand, tilting your face up to meet hers and giving it a slight pull.

"On that we agree…" she says in a husky voice.

"' 'Cause you don't know how much I fantasized 'bout fucking you, beautiful."

Jesus. fucking. CHRIST.

You let out a shuddering gasp as a shiver went through you like thunder, and the ache in your core became even more unbearable.

"Be a darling and spread your legs." She says as she releases your hair. You comply without complaint, your thighs spreading quickly.

"Atta girl... just like that..."

You don't have to see Ellie's face to feel the smug pride radiating from her as she sees how wet you are.

"Fuck, baby... you're soaked..." She says lowly as presses her finger on your swollen clit, delighting at the strangled gasp you let out.

Her gaze intertwines with yours, and in just a second, she slips two of her fingers inside you, causing you to let out a loud surprised gasp. She starts slowly, but before a few moments she increases the speed.

"Oh God! Ells-" you moan as she bends her fingers upwards to reach that sweet spot inside you that dissolves you in pure pleasure.

She moves her mouth down your body, leaving a wet path in her wake until she stops between your legs. She kisses your inner thighs teasingly, and when you let out a needy moan, her lips wrap around your aching bud and suck. Her tongue caresses your sensitive nerves as her fingers continue ravishing you.

You let out a squeal of pleasure, immediately covering your mouth with one hand to muffle the high-pitched noises. Ellie doesn't cease her relentless stimulation, and it is not long before you bite down on your palm, coming undone around her fingers.

She helps you through it, letting your hips buck against her mouth as your orgasm courses through your body, before gently withdrawing her fingers. Trembling, you prop yourself up on your elbows.

Ellie, with a dark look in her eyes, watches you from between your thighs. Her lips curl into that arrogant fucking smirk that you want to punch out of her face and drives you insane at the same time.

She lifted her fingers, glistening with your arousal, and slowly slipped them into her mouth. Your lips parted as you watched her through your lashes, your eyes dark with lust.

"You taste so goddamn good..." She murmured lowly. Her gaze didn't drift once from your eyes as she sucked every drop, leaving them completely clean.

You could come again right now just because of that.

"This doesn't end here, doll" Ellie murmurs as she moves up your body again to kiss you. You moaned against her lips when you savored your own taste in the kiss.

"I never said I wanted that..." You whisper against her lips, reaching up to pull her hips down to meet yours.

Ellie hisses, moving to remove her pants and grey boxers before pressing her soaking wet center against yours. She moaned as her clit made contact with yours and it wasn't more than a minute before she pressed herself against you and began to grind her hips.

"Fuck, Ellie!" you moaned, closing your eyes in pure ecstasy, the sensation of your center grinding against hers and your clits clashing together making your eyes roll back. It was so good you felt like you were losing your mind.

Nothing mattered anymore. Fuck the agency. Fuck the rescue. Fuck the whole thing.

You wanted to stay inside that haze of pleasure for the rest of your life if possible, here, tangled up with her.

Next to the same infuriating agent you couldn't stand from the start, but now had you right where she wanted—legs open and moaning like her bitch.

The twists and turns of life.

"Shit, shit, please Ellie… I'm gonna…”

You moaned as you pulled away a little to catch your breath. You both were a panting mess, grinding against each other harder and harder.

"Let go f'me…. I'm 'bout to cum too… "

You moved your hips against Ellie, both movements losing rhythm and becoming erratic. The knot in your stomach tightened, and in less than a second, everything went white around you as you let out a strangled moan.

She let out a choked gasp and squinted her eyes tightly, being completely washed over by the orgasm and burying her face in your neck. She immediately wrapped her arms around you, grabbing you before you fell to the ground and hurt yourself.

"Shhh… I've got you…"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Several minutes later, the fire was slowly dying down, leaving the cabin wrapped in a warm dimness. Your breathing was still uneven, but the silence between you remained thick— and neither of you dared to break it.

Ellie still hadn't moved away completely. Her fingers lingered on your skin, tracing lazy patterns along your waist, as if her body refused to accept that the moment was over.

“That was…” You tried to say something, but the words died in your throat.

You felt the cold creeping back in, dragging reality along with it.

“Don’t overthink it. Just go to sleep” Ellie cut in. Her expression was serious, but her eyes were a whole different story, a glisten in them that you never saw before.

She pulled away slowly, but not entirely. Like a part of her didn’t want to. Like she wanted to stay right there, where the warmth was still bearable and the distance minimum.

But in the end, she did. She rolled onto her side, her back facing you, her body stiff, tense.

The cabin fell into complete silence, except for the occasional crackling of the fire. The air was still heavy, thick, as if the moment hadn't really ended.

Ellie turned onto her back, staring at the ceiling, her expression neutral. You kept staring at her, and the way her chest rose and fell a little too quickly gave her away.

“You’re not gonna sleep, are you?”

She let out a quiet, amused laugh, still not looking at you.

“I don't know. Maybe I’ll stay up until you say you regret it.”

“And what if I don’t regret it?”

This time, she did turn her head. Her eyes studied you in the dim light, as if trying to figure out if you were serious. Then, in a quiet murmur, she spoke again.

“Then we’re screwed.”

“Yeah. We definitely are.”

Ellie smiled. Just a small curve of her lips, but a smile nonetheless. She didn’t say anything else, just shifted and reached out for you. She slipped her fingers between yours, entwining them with an ease that proved this wasn’t just the adrenaline, or a escape from the cold, or lust. It was something more.

“…Do you regret it?” you whispered softly, not daring to look at her.

Ellie was quiet for a second before answering.

“You want me to be honest? …No. Not at all.” She lifted your chin gently, forcing you to meet her gaze. “I’d do it all over again—every second of it, exactly the way it happened.”

A brief silence hung between you as her words sank in, then a soft, amused laugh escaped your lips.

“Did I just hear you say something sweet? Where’s Ellie and what have you done with her?”

The teasing was nothing but a flimsy shield, barely covering the overwhelming relief that washed over you at her answer.

"Aaaand you just had to ruin the moment." she grumbled, giving your hand a light squeeze. "Now shut up and sleep, princess."

She didn’t say anything else—just sighed and reached out, pulling you against her, her hand firm on the curve of your waist. You closed your eyes as your mind raced, unsure what to think.

You knew this changed everything—made it messier, riskier. That it would put your jobs, your dynamic, everything on the line.

But when you opened your eyes again, hers were already on you, gleaming in the darkness. And for just one damn second, something unspoken burned there. Something that made the fall inevitable.

Something that told you this was far from over.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

taglist (tysm for supporting, hope you enjoy <333): @st0nerlesb0 @willurms @vahnilla @mancyw1214 @rxreaqia @laceyxrenee @antobooh @tittielover-420 @annoyingpersonxoxo

(if you wanna be added to my permanent tag list, comment or dm me and i'll add you!!!)

OHHH MY FUCKING GOD NOW THATS SOMETHING I REALLY ENJOYED WRITING.

Hope ya'll enjoyed and I'm SUPER grateful for every repost, like or share you wanna give!!! :D

(sorry again if there's any spelling or writing mistake)

#lesbian #lesbian pride #lgbtq #ellie williams imagine #lesbian shot #ellie williams smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie tlou #the last of us 2 #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams tlou #shappic #wlw smut #wlw ns/fw

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satansapostle6 · 8 months ago

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Love The Sinner | Dexter Morgan

Dexter Morgan, a vigilante serial killer hiding in plain sight, loses sleep for the first time in his life when he’s met with the very last thing he expected: a kindred spirit.

Warnings: Violence. Mature language and themes. Sexual content.

Part One. Eyes of Darkness.

Most people, when they’re getting arrested, shit their pants with fear. Some scream, some cry. Some rage, and some try to run, and some just freeze. That’s what you usually see, when you’re in your parents’ living room, and your dad can’t wait to turn on the TV to the channel dickety-six news, of all things. But sometimes, people have other reactions when being handcuffed and shoved in the back of a squad car. Sometimes people enjoy it, for one reason or another. I smiled when Miami Metro put me in cuffs on the news. Laughed, even. You see my story is many things, but boring certainly isn’t one of them.

Let’s start simple. My name is Nicole Carvalho, and as of today, America knows me as ‘Murderous MILF’. You really can’t make these things up; I love this country. I keep reminding myself, if I ever go free, I need to clip that out of the newspapers. But see, right now, at this very moment, I’m sitting alone in an almost blindingly white interrogation room at the precinct, waiting for a cop to question me while they study me on the surveillance footage. I can’t lie, I’m sitting back right now in my chair, smirking. You see, I killed the men who violated and later took my baby girl’s life, and I’m currently very pleased with myself.

I don't think my grandfather pictured this when he left Brazil. This truly is the American dream; committing a crime and letting your own peers decide whether or not it was justified. In all honesty, a jury will be much kinder to me than ‘God’ has been. So, I figured I’d let myself have this one thing. I think I waited about a half an hour before they sent someone in; a female detective. They must’ve figured a matching vagina couldn’t hurt. The first thing I noticed about this detective was that she was strikingly young; close to my age. I’m thirty-six, so I would estimate her to be maybe a little younger.

But apart from her age, the next thing I noticed about this detective was that she was very robotic in how she interacted with me; she didn’t necessarily look like she wanted to be there. She barely looked up at me when she came in, holding my files and looking down at them like a teenager doing a presentation in high school.

“So. Nicole Carvalho. I’m Detective Morgan.”

She sits down across from me less like I’m a murder suspect and more like she’s interviewing me for a secretary job. I look at her, sitting forward as I join her in the conversation, still smug as ever. I think she was secretly hoping I’d say it, the four words that usually drove most cops insane that, for some reason, no one ever thinks to say in the movies.

“I want my lawyer.”

I smile as I say it. Detective Morgan also smiles, looking down at the table before getting up. I’ll never forget how pleased she sounded.

“Guess that means I can’t ask you anymore questions.”

She gets up and walks out, and that’s the end of it. In all honesty, I don’t think she was looking forward to questioning a woman about the murder of her daughter’s rapist. After the detective left me alone, I was allowed to call myself the lawyer that I had in mind. This, of course, was a friend of a friend, a perfectly shady guy named Johnny Bertelli, who was, in the nicest way possible, a fucking scum bag. You see, I work as a project manager at a marketing firm, so I’ve met my fair share of good lawyers, but Johnny was the fucking best.

He made Johnnie Cochran look like an idiot. He was the kind of lawyer who laughed at the prosecution in court, and I needed him. So there i was, in the Miami Metro precinct punching a number I’d gotten off Google into a wall phone. I looked around the precinct as I waited for someone to pick up, and suddenly it was like I felt a pair of eyes on me. I turned around, and I saw a pretty timid, mild-mannered looking guy who seemed as if he’d been standing there trying to figure out how to get my attention.

But the strange thing was, he didn’t seem to want my attention, at all, actually. If anything, he seemed perturbed by the fact that I was looking his way. I looked over at him, not knowing what the fuck his story could’ve been. Miami’s a weird place, because in this moment, I realized the guy wandering the precinct in a Polo and khakis could very well be an employee. I looked at the guy, not knowing what he could’ve wanted with me as I struggled with the phone. Funny enough, he actually just wanted to be helpful.

“You gotta press pound,” he says quietly, “For the call to go through,” and I almost laugh.

I appreciate the odd moment, just thanking him.“Thank you.”

He just nods, and says nothing as he quietly retreats to wherever it was he came from. I took his advice, and sure enough, the phone worked and patched me through to Johnny’s office. I wasn’t quite sure at the time, seeing as I was obviously a bit preoccupied, but I felt that strange man’s eyes linger on me for a moment. Even as I turned around, I could sense his surreal sort of presence that he had. Sure, I was used to having men’s leering eyes on me out in public; it was hardly unusual. But this was different.

Like he was less looking at my body and flesh, but more so imagining what was underneath it.

*****

The next couple years of my life were eventful, to say the fucking least. Johnny of course advised me to take my case to trial instead of taking a plea, for obvious reasons; there was no way any jury was going to give me the maximum sentence, or God forbid, the death penalty. I was a single mother who stabbed her twelve year-old daughter’s rapist seventeen times. In the eyes of the public, I was practically a fucking hero. Johnny’s confident that any jury would feel sympathetic to me, despite the brutality of what I’d done. As he says, the facts are still there.

My neighbor, a weasley little creep named George Randall got me, and my Isabelle, to trust him, and took advantage of her in the worst way. Then she killed herself, because of what he did, and I had to find out through a note left on her desk for me to find. So, I went to George’s with an empty baking dish of his, and once he let me in, I whipped out the knife I’d borrowed from him, the same knife I used to use to cook for my little girl, and I made his stomach burst like a water balloon. At this point, I’d already chosen to show little remorse for the crime I’d committed, feeling perfectly at peace with the possibility of prison, or the death penalty.

But Johnny said there was probably no need to be too fearful of either. He’d even told me there was a possibility I’d just get a few years, and then parole, or something, and I wasn’t sure that wasn’t bullshit, but I also liked his confidence. The reality of it was, Johnny had made much worse people look way better. To him, my case was already closed. All I had to do was play the part of the grieving mother, which took no effort on my part. I had to wait almost a year for my case to go to trial, which I of course did outside of a cell.

This gave me enough time to get all my affairs in order, or so to speak. My job was okay for the time being, and I knew I’d probably still have it so long as I wasn’t convicted of murder, given my ‘years of dedicated service’. Things were going to be relatively fine, eventually, but for now, I was stuck being paraded around like a jester on some twisted apology tour for avenging my daughter’s death. I’m a pretty good actor, but even my patience has its limits. And maybe wearing my white So Kate’s to court wasn’t necessarily the best judgement call.

But Johnny, being more than worth the money I pay him, made it work. I walked into the courtroom with him, humble and graceful, and didn’t let my eyes linger so as not to appear guilty. But even then, I caught a glimpse of him in the room. The guy who helped me with the phone. He was watching my trial, probably just as a police department employee. Probably.

“Will the defendant please rise?”

I complied with Judge Willis’s request, with my trusty guard dog by my side. I remained dignified, my head held high, but not too high, of course, as the proceedings began.

“Miss Carvalho. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty, your honor,” I told him.

The damage was done. My fate rested entirely in the hands of twelve strangers, and for some reason, there was a thirteenth who seemed oddly invested in the outcome.

Part Two.

#dexter #dexter morgan #michael c hall #dexter morgan x reader

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0omillo0 · 8 months ago

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HAN JISUNG X FEM! READER

Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

a/n: I really like how this one came out!! please let me know if you liked it too! ᡣ𐭩

Warnings: Panic attack, Miscommunication, Emotional distress

Summary: A misunderstanding leads to heartbreak, but sometimes love can heal even the deepest wounds.

𝜗𝜚

Jisung had been working tirelessly for weeks on his music, and you could see how much pressure he was under. You wanted to do something special for him—something that would not only surprise him but remind him how much he meant to you. For your anniversary, you came up with an idea: you'd record yourself singing one of his favorite songs, “bad” by wave to earth, and reorganize his messy music files while you were at it.

You spent hours preparing everything, perfecting your voice, and carefully categorizing his music. Then, you left a little note at the end of the recording, telling him to check the closet for his anniversary gift—a brand-new guitar you knew he’d been eyeing for months. It was meant to be a beautiful surprise.

When Jisung came home that evening, you were sitting by his computer, making the final tweaks to his project. His face was a mix of surprise and confusion.

“What are you doing on MY computer?” he asked, his tone sharper than you expected.

You smiled, excited to reveal your surprise. “I was working on something for you. I—”

Before you could finish, he had pushed past you, eyes scanning the screen. His face contorted in panic.

“Where’s my work? What did you do?” he asked, voice rising.

You blinked, taken aback by his sudden shift. “I just reorganized it a little. Everything’s still there—”

“Reorganized?!” Jisung cut you off, not even listening to the last sentence, his voice now full of anger. “You deleted everything, didn’t you?! Why would you touch my stuff without asking?! You just made my day even worse thank you.”

His words cut deep. You tried to explain, but the words got stuck in your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes as he continued to lash out, too blinded by panic to see the hurt written all over your face.

Finally, unable to bear it anymore, you grabbed your things and rushed out of the house, sobbing. Before leaving you yelled a “Well then maybe you’ll be happier without me, Jisung. Have a good life we’re- we’re done.” Jisung didn’t stop you.

You needed to get away, needed to breathe. Without thinking, you found yourself at Minho’s apartment. He was your best friend, someone who had always been there when you needed him. The moment he opened the door, he didn’t need to ask. He pulled you into a tight hug, letting you cry into his shoulder.

---

Back at home, Jisung sat in silence, the weight of his words hanging in the air. His chest felt tight, and something gnawed at him. He knew he overreacted, but in the heat of the moment, all he saw was chaos where he expected order.

With trembling hands, he went back to his computer, hoping—no, praying—that you hadn’t deleted everything. As he clicked through the files, he realized that you hadn’t deleted a single thing. Everything was still there, neatly organized, far better than how he had left it.

And then he saw it.

A file titled “Happy Anniversary.” Confused, he clicked on it, and your voice filled the room. You were singing “bad,” and it was beautiful. He had no idea you could sing like that. By the end of the recording, his chest ached.

And then your voice—soft, almost hesitant—spoke up.

“Jisung, I hope you liked my surprise. I wanted to help you organize everything because I know you’ve been so stressed. There’s one more surprise—look in the closet. Happy anniversary, babe. I love you.”

His heart dropped. He even forgot your anniversary. He scrambled to the closet, yanking it open to find the brand-new guitar, complete with a handwritten letter.

As he read the words you had so carefully written, guilt consumed him. His hands shook, his breathing shallow. He sank to the floor, panic seizing his chest. His phone slipped from his hands as he tried to call you, to text you, but you didn’t answer.

Please Y/N… Please babe answer me… I’m so sorry…

---

At Minho’s apartment, you had finally cried yourself to sleep. Minho, ever the protective friend, watched over you for a while before noticing your phone buzzing endlessly. Seeing Jisung’s name flashing across the screen, he sighed and decided to call him.

“Minho…” Jisung’s voice was hoarse on the other end, barely above a whisper.

“What happened, Jisung?” Minho asked, his tone calm but firm.

“I—I messed up. I thought she deleted my work, but she didn’t. She was trying to help, and I… I yelled at her,” Jisung confessed, his voice breaking. “I’ve been calling her, but she won’t answer. I don’t know what to do.”

Minho glanced at you, asleep on his couch, your tear-streaked face a testament to the pain Jisung had caused. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Listen, Jisung. Calm down. She’s here, and she’s hurting. You really messed up, but I think you already know that,” Minho said quietly. “I’m leaving for the day tomorrow. Maybe when she wakes up, you can try to make things right. But give her space, okay?”

Jisung could only mutter a quiet thank you before the call ended.

---

The next day, you woke up feeling emotionally drained, the events of the previous night weighing heavily on you. Minho had left a note saying he had errands to run and that you could stay as long as you needed.

As you sat on the couch, trying to sort through your emotions, there was a soft knock at the door. Hesitant, you opened it to find Jisung standing there, his face pale, eyes red-rimmed as if he hadn’t slept.

“I—Can I come in?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stepped aside, not trusting yourself to speak. The air between you felt thick with tension and unspoken words.

Jisung took a deep breath, his eyes filled with regret. “I’m so sorry. I… I overreacted. I thought you deleted my work, and I didn’t even give you a chance to explain. I should have trusted you.” His voice cracked. “I listened to your recording. It was beautiful. And the guitar… I don’t deserve it, or you.”

You blinked back tears, still hurt but softened by the sincerity in his voice.

“I was just trying to help, Jisung,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I wanted to do something nice for you, and you—” Your words caught in your throat as you recalled how he had screamed at you.

“I know,” Jisung said, stepping closer. “I know I hurt you, and I hate myself for it. I had a panic attack after you left because I realized how much I messed up. I love you, and I never want to make you feel like that again.”

The silence stretched between you as you searched his face, trying to decide if you were ready to forgive him. And then, slowly, you nodded, tears falling down your cheeks.

“I love you too, Jisung,” you whispered. “But we can’t keep doing this. You need to trust me. Your words hurt me so bad.”

He reached out, gently pulling you into his arms, holding you close as if he was afraid to let go. “I promise I’ll do better. I’ll trust you. I can’t lose you.”

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still as you held each other. The hurt didn’t vanish, but in that moment, you both knew that love would help you heal, one step at a time.

And maybe, just maybe, you’d come out stronger on the other side.

#han jisung #han jisung x reader #han x reader #han x you #han x y/n #stray kids x y/n #stray kids fluff #straykids angst #han angst #han jisung angst #stray kids comfort #skz x reader #skz #skz angst

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callmemickey · 2 years ago

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Pepsi Cola

synopsis: Simon is on his break, but that doesn’t mean you stop working. After a full two weeks of mandatory overtime to complete a project, you were exhausted, absolutely beat. Simon’s been home for a few weeks and was starting to feel guilty. Watching you come home so tired you pass out on the couch? It was frustrating seeing you so drained. Well… it’s Friday night, and you’re sooo exhausted, love - why don’t you lie down and let Simon help you relax?

content: afab, porn w a plot, smut (GET YA PUSSY ATE!!!, fingering, overstim), not fluff?per se but he loves u.

word count: ~3.6k I think idk

notes: Title named after Cola by Lana Del Rey hayyyy iykyk

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Your keys felt so heavy in your hand as you attempted to fish them out of your deep, cluttered purse. They were tangled on something, and with an infuriated grunt, you yanked terribly hard, jerking them violently out of the thralls of your corded headphones. You really needed to switch to wireless. You fumbled them momentarily in your hand, trying to find your house key as the small porch light was your only guide, the sky dark like navy ink. “Fuck,” you mumbled, finally finding the key and opening the front door.

Soft, warm lights lit up the entryway, beckoning you to enter the fortress of comfort, an escape from the throes of responsibilities and existing. A groan left your lips as you closed the heavy door and locked it. The house smelled delicious like a home cooked meal, reminding you that Simon saved you dinner for when you came home. Your stomach growled, eager. “I’m home.” Your voice was loud and filled with fatigue as you called out to your fiancé, always making sure to signal that it was you and not someone breaking in.

You’ll never forget when you tried to surprise him one time. When you got into the living room, presumably as quiet as the dead, he had grabbed you and flipped you onto the couch. “You’re lucky I knew that was you. Wanna know what’d I do if you were a thieving little mouse?” You said yes, and later told him you’ll need to break in more often as he was putting his shirt back on, his back covered with red hot stripes from your fresh manicure.

You walked down the hallway, kicking off your high heels, shuffling towards the living room, your pantyhose helping you glide across the hardwood floors as lifting your feet felt nigh impossible. Simon, ever attentive, met you in the hallway before you could even get into the living room. “Ah, love, you must be exhausted.” His tone was soft, calming, and understanding. The energy that poured from you was prickly and sharp at best, cannibalistic at worst, because while he wanted to generously touch your arm, he was worried for his.

Your purse dropped unceremoniously from your shoulder and onto the floor as you trudged over to the couch. “This week has been terrible,” you grumbled as you plopped chest first onto the cushions, “so much overtime to get a project done for the shareholders. As if it’s my fault that budgets were cut.” Your voice was muffled in the fabric.

The couch sunk by your feet as you felt Simon’s hand gingerly begin to rub your toes, arches, and heels. His thumbs gently but firmly pressing into the swollen, tired flesh of your foot elicited a moan of relief from you. “C’mon, Y/N, why don’t you go wash up? I have your dinner in the oven - I’ll get it started. Let’s go.” His voice was still delicate, supportive.

Simon ushered you up and you sighed, giving a small nod in agreement.

You went into the bathroom and stripped off your clothes. You knew what you were getting into when you were promoted to senior marketing manager, but recently you wished you had better foresight. You turned on the shower, hoping that the hotter the water, the more likely it will boil and burn off any trace of this week happening. As you washed your hair and body, you thanked whatever god allowed for Hell Week to be over. When you felt you were thoroughly cleansed from files, papers, and way too many sticky notes, you ended your shower, wanting to forget the sound of telephones ringing and keyboards clacking.

With a towel wrapped around your body and hair, you stepped out of the bathroom and sighed, the hot, fragrant steam spilling over into the cool bedroom, licking the air. You took the towel off of your head, gently squeezing water out of your hair as you walked to the dresser. You opened your underwear drawer with your hand, humming at your options.

“Feelin’ better?” Simon’s voice purred from the doorway. You looked over and saw him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed - and they briefly rippled with a flex, as if he were holding back. You did a double take, glancing from his feet up at his face. His eyes were half-lidded and a small half smirk sat on his lips. You knew that look. He was ravenous.

“Yeah. Why’re you lookin’ at me like that?” You asked before attempting to divert your attention back to the drawer.

“Like what?” He uncrossed his arms, strolling over to you, towering high above. You looked up at Simon’s face.

“Like that!” You couldn’t help but giggle as he buried his face against your neck, sniffing your smooth skin, inhaling the floral scent of your body wash so deep, letting it etch in his memory like carving stone.

He molded his body against yours, hands gripping deeply at your waist, fingers pressed into the plush towel. Your hands reached to wrap around his neck. His warm lips began to leave deep, hot trails against your skin, causing you to sigh in satisfaction. Simon kept your bodies tight together, lips trailing up to your ear. He nibbled at your earlobe, sucking gently at the flesh before biting at the shell, creating a surge of pleasure to pool in your core. You whimpered, hips bucking against his jeans. Your chest heaved in shallow sighs while he continued teasing you, breathing hot puffs against your ear, letting goose bumps sweep across your skin.

“Let me take care of you.” His voice was a hot whisper, and what he gave to you was not a suggestion, but a demand.

“Mmm, you don’t have to baby,” you purred softly, a tame deferment, placidly defying him.

You tested the waters and he called your bluff. He squeezed at your waist, a little firmer than you thought he would. His voice was a low growl, “Take off your towel and lie on the bed.”

Your body began to hum on the same frequency as his, his jeans becoming incredibly firm against your stomach. Simon pulled away, his half-lidded eyes darkening as they swirled with an insatiable drive. Your breath hitched in your chest, your stomach flipping as your cunt twitched in need.

You paused for too long. A hand left your waist and came down hard on your ass and gripped the fat flesh. You yelped more so at the sudden action than the sting. “And what do you say?” He asked, and your arousal caused you to feel your cheeks flush hot.

Your chest heaved. “Yes, sir.” Your voice was quiet, and he smiled.

“Thas my good girl, so god damn beautiful and smart. Go on then, let me see those gorgeous tits.” He moved his hands away from your ass and waist.

Your stomach flipped again, but you obliged, loosening the towel and letting it fall to the floor. Simon took a deep inhale, exhaling sharply as he eyed your body, and right now he looked like he desperately needed to sink his cock into you, but that wasn’t really part of his plan tonight.

He inhaled one more time, blinking himself back to reality as he gave your ass pleasant tap with just enough force to get it to jiggle. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N, get your arse on that bed now.” He was at the point of fully commanding you around, but you were okay with that, and you would do anything he ever asked of you. Anything for your wonderful fiancé.

“Yes, sir.” You said coyly, causing his lips to twitch back into a smirk. You felt yourself melt a little while you walked over to the bed, plopping down on the edge.

Simon walked over to you, so unbelievably tall while you were sitting down. Heat pooled down to your stomach when you glanced down at his jeans. You looked back up at him, licking your bottom lip absentmindedly. He smiled, sighing. “Not tonight, love.” He scolded lovingly.

“Later?” You asked.

He paused, thinking for a moment before nodding. “Later,” he agreed, letting you win - which caused you to smile mischievously.

Simon leaned down to you, grabbing you by your waist and tossing you up higher onto the bed. You yelped with a smile, giggling as you fell down on your back, bouncing softly on the down blanket. Simon’s lips came down against yours, giving you little to no time to adjust. His hands, gentle on the naked flesh of your waist, whispered ghostly touches up your sides before eventually cupping your breasts. Your moans were lost in his mouth as his fingers squeezed and rubbed at your nipples, your hands finding themselves lost in his hair. You squeezed his hips with your thighs, your cunt swollen, begging and weeping for his abuse.

He moved his lips down to your neck, kissing, sucking, and gently biting you. Simon moved a hand from your breast and used it as leverage next to your head while the other hand slid down your front, tickling your sensitive skin, roaming over your stomach and mound. His fingers dipped down between your folds, pressing into your wet heat. You let out a pathetic whimper at the contact alone, raising it into a moan as his fingers rubbed slow circles against your clit.

“Ah, yeah? You like that, Y/N?” He purred against your neck before pulling away to see your reaction. You bit your lower lip and nodded feverishly at him, eyebrows furrowed. Simon smiled, your wet hair sticking to your face, providing a cool relief to the heat that swarmed your body like a furnace.

“Ye-yeah, yes- yes, sir,” you managed to gasp out. His smile turned into a smirk as he felt your cunt twitching. As if answering your unspoken prayers, his two digits dipped and pushed into your needy hole. A gasp was ripped from you, jaw dropping slightly at the sudden filling of your cunt.

“God, already so wet - my girl has the best fucking pussy.” He gave a small thrust, causing you to moan gently and buck your hips. “Oh, the things I’d do just to have my cock buried in you,” he growled before gently pumping his fingers.

Your tits bounced as his digits softly fucked into you, fingers curling up and rocking your hips, pressing into that spot that had your eyes rolling back. Your grip left his hair and soon grasped desperately onto his back, causing him to groan while your nails dug at him. “Ha, ah, harder,” you gasped as your hips bucked against his hand.

Simon smiled. “Yeah? You wanna cum on my fingers, don’tcha baby?” He asked, your cunt twitching embarrassingly at his words.

“Yes- yes, sir, please!” You whined.

“Hold on, love,” he sighed before rocking his fingers into you at an ungodly pace.

Your voice raised pitch before becoming lost in your throat, your head thrown back and eyes gone. All that filled the room was the sounds of your juices squelching against his fast moving digits. The silence was soon cut, moans finally finding their way out of you. Your fingernails dragged frantically at his back, as if you were fighting to stay grounded. Your cunt constricted harshly around his fingers, trapping him.

Your orgasm ripped through you, your hips bucked against his fingers and your thighs squeezed at his hips. Like a cool tidal wave poured over you, a chill ran down your back as your body surged with pleasure, leaving you crying out Simon’s name. He chuckled softly with a gentle voice, “Ahhh, thas my good girl, huh?” His voice was like a warm blanket of clouds, helping you down from your dizzying high. He pulled his fingers out and gave a small slap to your pussy, causing you to whine and your hips to stutter as he teased the tender flesh.

“Jesus, Simon,” you whimpered, your head still swimming in the aftershocks of pleasure.

He chuckled at your reaction while planting kisses down your neck and collarbone, stopping at your breasts to lope a nipple into his mouth. You let out a throaty groan as his teeth pulled at the sensitive, hardened bud. Your nails that raked at his back moved back up to his hair, the pads of your fingers pressing firmly into his scalp as his locks slid and tightened betweens your digits. The sensation had him sighing against your mounds.

He released your breast from his mouth, his teeth squeezing at your nipple before fully letting go, causing you to let out a small yelp. Simon began to kiss down your chest and the expanse of your stomach. He placed deep kisses at your hips before heading towards the simmering heat of your cunt - sticky, wet, and begging. He looped his arm under your thigh, hand holding your hip to keep you in place.

Simon’s lips pressed against your swollen clit, causing you to gasp harshly. His tongue, flat and hot, slid up your folds, extracting a long moan from you, and in response he moaned. “I’ve been waiting all night for this,” he hummed against your cunt, the vibrations of his voice driving straight to your core.

You groaned, your hips grinding against him in response which caused him to chuckle against you. “O-oh God, Simon!” You cried at the overwhelming stimulation, your legs shaking at his persistence as he buried his mouth into your cunt.

Simon lapped at you hungrily like a man dehydrated, drinking at your sloppy pussy as if he’d never be able to go back down on you again. It was gluttony and pure greed. He had commented before about how he hopes his manner of passing is drowning while you straddle his face. You laughed and said maybe one day! He didn’t think your joking demeanor was appropriate, and how he meant every word with serious intent. Whenever he’s being deployed on a mission, he always assures you he won’t die, because you’re the only one that could take him out. Of course, you didn’t truly understand the depth of his conviction.

Simon’s teeth gently nibbled and helped to create a suction around your clit, his dampened fingers once again finding your hole and pushing in. You let out a loud moan, your hips driving against his face, his nose pressing onto your mound as he did everything he could to keep you two attached, connected. He moved his head to match with your movements, keeping his mouth glued flat to your pussy, and any attempt to pull yourself away from him would prove futile.

Your fiancé has a wonderfully keen gift of being a giver. He was always so incredibly selfless with you, which could get almost aggravating as he was certain on making sure that your needs were met first. This attitude carried over to the bedroom. He could give you fifty orgasms and beg to give you fifty more while never even taking his shirt off.

What he loves, besides bringing you pleasure you’ve never experienced before, is seeing you lost in passion. Watching your face twist as he stretches you with an additional finger, your eyes rolling back as he hits that sweet spot, your hips grinding as you chase after your orgasm, your back arching and legs shaking as the euphoria and bliss crash over and through you. Simon got off by simply being the source of your arousal, and he savored unraveling you thread by thread before you’re bare before him.

That’s what he loved.

Your pleasure brimmed to the top, the lip, before finally pouring over. Your hands gripped tight at his scalp, legs tightened around his head as your back arched, head thrown back. Your cunt tightened deliciously around his pumping digits, his tongue still swirling around your clit as he rode out your orgasm. “F-Fuck, Simon!” You cried, moaning loudly, still holding onto him as the high came to slow, but he didn’t stop.

He continued to pump and lap at your clit, causing you to squeal in overstimulation, legs beginning to shake as a concoction of pleasure and pain pulsed through your core with every pass of his tongue. “I can’t- ah! Simon, please!” You sobbed, begging him to stop. A harsh groan left you, your body trying to shake him away as he kept his mouth to you. It wasn’t fair - it was too much. You were starting to burnout, your body sore and barely able to keep up. Regardless of your exhaustion, another orgasm was in the horizon, slowly reaching it’s peak before ultimately falling into a frenzied bliss.

“You gonna cum again, baby?” Simon mumbled against your sex, the vibrations causing you to groan roughly as your hands moved from his head to the sheets, grasping them with a white-knuckled grip, back arched impossibly high as you tried to wriggle away. You nodded frantically at his question, your body squirming and tossing with no ability to stop or control it as he pushed you to your limits.

You never doubt that Simon can bring you another orgasm in quick succession - he’s proven that true multiple times, almost every time, especially now. Your poor clit, though, was bullied and battered, the bundle of nerves crying out in both pain and pleasure. But it was a slave to Simon. Even during the loneliest of nights, months in bed by yourself, you could never make yourself feel how he makes you feel. It was maddening, and frankly unfair, but it made the intimate times with him all the more exhilarating and mind numbing. What makes it better is that no one but Simon has been able to bring you into such a state of ecstasy.

Simon’s free hand, still wrapped around your thigh and holding onto your hip, held you so tightly in place he pinched at your skin. You were going to bruise there, you knew, but you didn’t really care. Even though it was like edged like a razor, your release was fast approaching with no stops. You panted heavily, loudly, your body involuntarily writhing as the pleasure tipped you over the scale. His tongue dragged hot and firm against your clit, his fingers still thrusting and rubbing the spongy spot inside your cunt as the muscle enclosed and clamped around him, unforgiving.

“Oh, God!” You cried loudly, tears pricking at your eyes as you used a hand to cover your face.

Your orgasm came fast and sharp. His onslaught was staggering and unrelenting, and it brought an end that was piercing, sudden. A scream was ripped from you as the pleasure came like a heavy punch, borderline painful. It was a surge of electricity that ripped through your core, shocking your nerves and forcing your body to briefly tense… but it all dissipated almost immediately. Your mind and body crashed.

Your back collapsed onto the bed and Simon’s fingers slid out of your clenching cunt, his mouth pulling away from your swollen, angry clit. A moan of relief fell out of your mouth as Simon crawled atop you, a hand pushing the hair out of your face as he planted his lips onto yours, kissing you deeply and fully. Your juices had coated his lips in abundance, and you tasted yourself as his tongue slipped into your mouth. His tongue was slick, and he made sure that you entire mouth was coated with yourself.

He pulled back, allowing you the space to sit up, delirious, face hot and wet from sweat. Simon stifled a laughter behind a tightly pursed mouth. “What.” Your tone strained with trying to demand an answer, but it was hoarse from your yelling and crying.

He shook his head, his eyes fluttering. “Your hair, love.”

Your hands shakily went to your hair, feeling it messy and sticking up at odd angles. “Ah.” You nodded, trying to run your fingers through to flatten it out.

Simon preemptively got up to the bathroom and came out with a brush, taking a seat behind you as he silently began brushing out your hair, starting at the ends. You two took the moment quietly, slowly, and embraced just being in each other’s presence. The session was hot and heavy, and having Simon nearby, gently brushing out your vicious knots, was soothing on your frazzled nerves, like aloe on a sunburn. “You feelin’ good, babe?” He asked in a quiet tone.

You hummed. “Yeah, but that last one was really intense.” You commented, eyebrows briefly furrowed as the third orgasm continued to make your body shudder. His hands suddenly wrapped deep in your hair at the base of your scalp, and with a gentle tug, he pulled your head back to look at him, causing you to gasp quickly.

“Were you able to handle it?” His brown eyes bore into you, and you gave a restrained nod, almost forgetting that his hand was keeping your head steady.

Your voice was meek and small, “Yes, sir.”

Simon smiled, kissing your forehead. “That’s my girl,” he purred, gingerly releasing your head and putting the brush on the nightstand. He gave you a kiss on the top of your head as he stood up, commenting about checking on dinner.

You noticed his cock was rock solid in his jeans, pressing and straining against the denim so tight it must’ve hurt. God, you wanted to return the favor more than you could possibly put into words. He noticed your gaze and his hand cupped your jaw, tilting your head upwards so your eyes met his.

“Later, like we agreed.” His voice was low, firm, and painfully arousing. Literally. Your clit throbbed with both the need to be doted on and to also be left alone for a long, long time. “Get dressed. I’ll be in the kitchen.” With that, Simon left you to your own devices in the bedroom.

You got up out of bed, inhaling sharply through your nose at the feeling of your beaten cunt being squeezed between your legs. You hobbled to the dresser, resuming your original task. Underwear. Grabbing a random pair, along with pajama shorts and a shirt, you found yourself comfortable and ready for the night, making sure to slide on your robe so you didn’t get chilly.

The evening progressed. You sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, eating your dinner while Simon sat on the couch behind you, running his fingers through your hair, lazily braiding your locks as a movie played on the television. Your lovely fiancé also made sure you were planted on the softest, fluffiest pillow he could find. When you were finished, he made you sit on the couch while he cleaned up, coming back just to delicately massage your feet. It was tender, romantic, thoughtful. Simon wasn’t a very… physically affectionate partner, so these moments when he just wanted to be with you, to touch you, well, you really tried to get as much as you could.

When he was finished, his hands slid up your smooth calves towards your thighs, beckoning you to cuddle closer - to which you did. You hopped across the couch where the back of your legs were draped over his thighs, nestling your body in close to his, letting him wrap his large arm around your shoulders to keep you close. Oh, you couldn’t even put into words how peaceful being wrapped up in his arms made you feel. Warm, secure, safe. His other hand sat on your thigh, his veins and tendons prominent, titillating, twisting around his forearms, making the black ink of his tattoo dance. What was even hotter was seeing these veins and tendons flex and and tighten as his hands gripped the sheets or headboard as he fucked you to nirvana, until nothing but prayers and begging for God spilled and tumbled from your mouth in an indistinguishable slur.

“Why so nice tonight?” You asked him in a quiet voice, looking up at him while resting your head against his chest.

Without hesitation, he looked down at you. “Do I need a reason?” Your stomach fluttered, heat spreading to your face. You shook your head. “You’ve been stressed and working late this week. Least I could do,” he explained regardless and shrugged, rubbing the fresh stubble on his jaw.

Simon’s been back for a month, and you’ve been so busy you feel like you’ve barely seen him. He gets up extremely early to see you before work, make you breakfast and coffee, and prepare your lunch. All day he makes sure the house is clean and chores are done, opting to even overhaul the landscaping in the front yard - something you’ve been too busy to do. At night, he always waits for you to come home, dinner ready if you haven’t eaten. He makes sure you’re showered and taken care of before starting the whole routine again in the morning. You didn’t necessarily feel less than or that you’re lacking in the relationship, but it was infuriating not being able to take care of your fiancé while he has worked tirelessly to keep the world from blowing up.

But that wasn’t wholly true, was it? Sure, you felt that way, having openly admitted your insecurities to him, but Simon has always been genuine and adamant in letting you know that you’re doing so much more when you don’t have to. While he loves that you’re on your corporate grind, he’s made it clear that if you told him you never wanted to lift your hand again, you wouldn’t. Of course, with weeks, and honestly, months like these, you get closer and closer to considering to take him up on his offer. Then you could be that sweet, doting housewife, eager for her husband to come home from war.

“So,” you started, grabbing his attention and warm gaze, “is it later yet?”

#ouch my puthy!#cod mw2 #ghost smut #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you

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