#of course the photographer makes his hands the focus of the photo
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SIR... I ... You can't just pose like that WITH YOUR MASSIVE HANDS and not expect to break the Internet...
Leave it to Sam to post the most beautiful thirst trap of a picture to his Instagram...with no words...letting the picture speak for itself...and OHHH DOES IT. 🥵
#adar#sam hazeldine#why does he do this?#that is a very Adar expression#he has a very specific smolder that speaks to me#of course the photographer makes his hands the focus of the photo#those huge hands I can't#excuse me while I melts into a puddle of thirst#please send help#he doesn't post often but when he does my poor ovaries suffer
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Cross My Heart | KMG
Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)
Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU
Rating: M (18+)
Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy
Word Count: 5.2k
Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me
Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.
Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face
A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅
Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕
SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist
It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted.
Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem.
Fucking jet lag got you anyway.
Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.
Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you.
So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.
It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around.
He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.
It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.
Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around.
You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous?
Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye.
It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-
A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.
Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago.
Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him.
A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.
Mingyu: Someone’s up late.
Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs.
After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back.
You: Can’t sleep
Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up
Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?
You: What?
Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos
Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that.
You: Shut up
Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered
You: Oh fuck off
Mingyu: No really, I am
Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad
Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.
You: Idk what you’re talking about
You: It was an accident
Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me?
You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?
Mingyu: I mean yeah
You snort.
You: You’re ridiculous
Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it
You: I’ll give you that
A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.
When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little.
Mingyu: What else will you give me?
And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is.
Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”
You: I don’t know
You: What do you want?
Mingyu: What if I say you?
Suddenly you don’t understand words.
You: Why would you say that?
Mingyu: Because it’s my answer
Mingyu: I’m being honest again
You: That’s the jet lag talking
Mingyu: Oh come on
Mingyu: You really don’t know?
You: Know what??
Mingyu: How I feel about you
Is he being serious right now??
You: If this is a joke I don’t get it
Mingyu: Not a joke
Mingyu: Hold on
The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one.
Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you
Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.
You: You’re so annoying, oh my god
Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?
Mingyu: Or flirting with me?
You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?
Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know
Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time
You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time
Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you
Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance.
You: You’re so dumb
Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?
You: Who said I’m pretending?
Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this
Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad
You: Shut uppppp
Mingyu: Go on, yell at me
Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad
You: No really
You: I can’t stand you
Mingyu: Then sit on my face
Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response.
You: What?
Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.
You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.
You: Fuck off. Stop playing.
Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious
Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man.
Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.
You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible.
Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?
You: Don’t tease me
Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one
You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.
You: You’re really serious?
Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die
Mingyu: Between your legs
Again you laugh.
You: You’re such an idiot
Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?
You: Like right now??
Mingyu: Why not?
Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring
Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself
You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now.
You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon
In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide.
You: I could come over
Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you
Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over
You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.
Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you
What else is there to say to that but -
You: I’m coming over
It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge.
“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?”
“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back.
“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands.
It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.
He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu.
It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon.
Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off
He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it?
“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses.
“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.”
“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”
“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close.
Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.
But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.
He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “
‘Gyu, please!”
“Please what?”
He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment.
Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now.
“I want what you promised me.”
“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.”
“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.
“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.”
He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.
“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him.
With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can.
“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.”
Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”
“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips.
“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face.
You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.
Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel.
“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.”
He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want.
“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation.
When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now.
“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?”
With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.
“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”
Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat.
You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes.
As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.
“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.”
“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you.
The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck.
If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly.
You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo.
“‘Gyu, please.”
At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around.
When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?”
“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.”
Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.
“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.
Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you.
His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up.
“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements.
Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!”
“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.”
And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids.
“It’ll be something like this.”
He withdraws his hand.
“Gyuuuuuu.”
If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.”
“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”
You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over.
“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!”
Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you.
Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again.
“Kiss me.”
He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.
The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.
“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.”
“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip.
“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”
“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.”
Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands.
“Pretty… don’t say that….”
“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.”
No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.
When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture?
“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.”
His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”
“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”
His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?”
Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.
Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.”
“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?”
“I might have some ideas.”
He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.
“Tell me what you want, pre-”
A sharp rap on the door startles you both.
“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!”
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© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.
#seventeen smut#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#mingyu#mingyu smut#svt smut#mingyu x reader#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#svt imagines#svt scenarios#svt fanfic#seventeen fanfic#kim mingyu#fic: cross my heart
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Baby Daddy || Jacob Elordi x reader
Summary: Jacob being a protective dad 😌
Warnings: fem!reader
Wc: 475
A/n: can we just agree that Jacob holding a small baby in his HUGE arms would be the cutest and hottest thing ever 😃😭 I need to see this irl. Posting a Coryo fic later today!!! Also really need to do a Jacob Elordi masterlist lol, will do later today!
Emerging from the grocery store, you held bags in both hands while Jacob effortlessly juggled your one-year-old daughter in one arm and a bag of groceries in the other.
The California sun casts a warm glow as you make your way to the car, Jacob holding your precious daughter, Sydney, in his strong arms. His large frame makes her appear even tinier as he cradles her close.
As you approach the car, Jacob’s keen eyes spot a group of paparazzi in the distance. He instinctively shields Sydney’s face, a protective gesture you’ve both mastered in these public moments.
Jacob glances at you, concern in your eyes, “We should be fine, they’re far away anyways,” Jacob assures you as you unlock the car.
As Jacob secures Sydney in the car seat, you glance over at the paparazzi. Some of them notice Jacob’s protective actions and start snapping pictures even more eagerly.
You could feel their invasive gaze, but your focus remained on Sydney, shielding her from the intrusive lenses from the front seat of the car.
As Jacob buckled up your daughter, he could sense you were uncomfortable, glancing at the paparazzi from time to time. He knew how much it meant to you to keep Sydney’s upbringing away from cameras as much as possible.
“I’m going to go talk to them,” Jacob says as you look at him with surprise. “Are you sure?” You lightly bite your lip as he nods, “Yeah, I’ll be quick,” Is all he says before he shuts the door.
You watch as Jacob makes his way to the group of paparazzi. You couldn’t hear what was being said of course but they seemed understanding about what Jacob was saying to them.
Jacob approached the group with a calm but firm demeanour. “Hey guys, I’m not sure if you’re aware but Y/n and I want to keep our daughter away from the public eyes as much as possible. And I know this is your job but could you please make sure to blur out Sydney’s face in the photos you’ve taken?”
One of the paparazzi’s, seemingly more considerate than the rest, responded, “Sure thing, Jacob. I don’t think we managed to photograph your daughter’s face,” He and the others all take a look through the photo’s they’ve taken whilst showing Jacob.
“But if we find one, we’ll make sure her face is blurred. No problem.” The man says as Jacob nods. “I appreciate it. Have a good day guys.”
As Jacob walked back to the car, you exchanged a relieved glance. As he climbs into the car, you felt a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion from the constant vigilance required to protect your family’s privacy.
You intertwine your hands with Jacob’s, expressing your gratitude, “Thank you for handling that.” A grateful smile adorns your face as he grins, bringing your intertwined hands close to his face and gently kissing your hand.
“Of course, I don’t need to think twice about doing something like that to protect Sydney,” Jacob affirms. He adjusts the rearview mirror, stealing a glance at Sydney in her car seat. Her curious eyes are fixed on the window, captivated by the passing palm trees.
Later that day, you were sent a tweet from Jacob’s sister. It’s from one of the paparazzi who interacted with Jacob earlier. The post details the encounter and emphasises Jacob’s kindness in handling the situation.
The tweet read, “Just had a run-in with Jacob Elordi, and gotta say, he’s one of the nicest celebs I’ve encountered. Asked us to blur out his daughter’s face, and even though we’re paparazzi, he handled it with grace. Big respect for him!”
As you read through the comments, you couldn’t help but smile at the overwhelming support from Jacob’s fans. Messages of admiration for his commitment to Sydney’s privacy flooded the comment section.
yourusername
Liked by jacobelordi, caileespaeny, hbo, zendaya, sydney_sweeney and 10,937,274 others
👶🍼💗💋🧸
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jacobelordi: love you both so much ❤️
↘️ yourusername: 💗
caileespaeny: aweee
sydney_sweeney: I need to see little Syd like rn 😭
↘️ yourusername: your godchild misses you!
↘️ user1: Is anyone just finding out now that Sydney Sweeney is the the god mother of Jacob Elordi and Y/n Y/l/n’s daughter 😃
↘️ user2: I mean, it kinda makes sense ngl. Y/n and Sydney are childhood besties and then she names her own kid after her best friend.
user3: sometimes I forget Jacob Elordi isn’t single and has a child
user4: those recent pictures of him holding Sydney is doing something to me 🙂
↘️ user5: RIGHT!
↘️ user6: oh for sure.
#fanfiction#jacob elordi#jacob elordi imagine#jacob elordi fanfic#jacob elordi x y/n#jacob elordi x you#jacob elordi fanfiction#jacob elordi x reader#nate jacobs#dad!jacob elordi#felix catton saltburn#felix catton x you#felix catton fluff#felix catton x y/n#felix catton fanfic#saltburn fanfiction#saltburn x reader#saltburn 2023#saltburn movie#euphoria#boyfriend!felix catton#boyfriend!jacob elordi#social media imagine#social media
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i'm back with another delicious little scenario, this time for our boy Hwa~~ hope you enjoy yourself!
hard hours are open, inbox is ready for you darlings!!! <3
HARD HOURS THOUGHTS
warnings: voyeurism, photographing sex, fingering, squirting, exhibitionism, nudity and nude photography
now, let's talk about photography major Seonghwa who uses his bestie for his final project - displays of tasteful nudity
when his professor told Seonghwa their final project in the summer semester would be tasteful nude photography, he immediately thought of you - even though it took some effort to persuade you to help him
as his bff of course you'd do anything for him, but this seemed a little far - you've never been naked in front of him, but in the end you agreed after he promised to buy you those shoes you'd been pining after - none of you could have anticipated how this would end up
Hwa chose his bed as the place and after some hesitation you stripped down to panties. it started innocent enough, with you lying on the bed and Seonghwa kneeling over you with his camera, hands barely touching you to move you to his liking. but after a while he'd get frustrated that his vision just wasn't coming through
his touches would get firmer, more demanding, grabbing roughly onto your flesh and pulling you into different positions, the artist's focus fully consuming him - and shamefully you'd start to get wet. especially when the lines started to blur and he asked for more sensuality, more eroticism and you bowed and bent under his camera, felt yourself up for the lense and grew breathless when his dark eyes took you in and appraised you
after that it didn't take long for his fingers to wander - to make it more authentic, to draw your expressions out better - just to help you out to sell it, that's what he whispered when he slipped them between your thighs and caressed your slick cunt. before you knew it your panties were off and he was three fingers in deep, wild strokes making you thrash about the bed
somehow he still managed to keep taking photos - the shutter sound and occasional flash interrupting your pleasure muddled mind as you writhed under him. and what a vision you made - body twisted beautifully, hands tied and twisted into the bedding as you sought to ground yourself, face an amalgamation of lust, pleasure and gratification.
and he'd be damned if he didn't capture the look of your climax, if he missed the clear shot of your sweet ecstasy
your orgasm somehow creeped up on you - the pleasure was so intense that you didn't even notice when it started boiling over until you were clenching on his long slender fingers and crying out, the waves of pleasure robbing you of your breath
and Hwa did take a photo of it, and weeks later after he went through heaps of shaky blurred photos depicting your little romp and salvaged a few of them, it was the centre piece of his exhibition
divider by @cafekitsune
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cocoa
Summary: You've been dating Tim for a while, and it's time to meet his family.
Yandere Tim x reader and yandere platonic batfam x reader
Warnings: While my blog is 18+, this piece doesn't contain any explicit material. Normal yandere warnings apply.
It all started when you met Tim Drake for the first time. You were a lowly worker at the Wayne’s company, just a simple personal assistant, but for the first time ever you’d been asked to go directly to the highest floor and deliver some paperwork to Tim directly. He looked different in real life, paler and sicker looking than you’d expected, with bright luminous eyes that seemed to never blink, staring directly into your soul like he knew every secret. He seemed only half-conscious, nodding off where he sat behind his massive desk, though he seemed to snap to attention when you brushed your fingers along his accidentally when handing over the folder. He seemed to focus entirely on your hands, completely zoning in on them, as you stood there awkwardly. Finally, you cleared your throat and turned to leave. He didn’t try to stop you, though he did seem upset judging by the glimpse you caught of him through the glass of the door.
From that moment on, it seemed your entire job was to give Tim paperwork, to the point that all other duties completely dried up. Whenever you weren’t able to give him anything, he started requesting you stay in the room, just in case. So, you started spending hours on end just reading in his office. The two of you gradually grew closer, and you discovered he had a dry sort of sarcastic wit that you hadn’t ever heard about. You began to discover the man behind the intimidating silhouette painted by the media, learning he was kinda dorky and enjoyed photographing nightlife. He even showed you some of his photos, which were of course stunning; he seemed to see Gotham in a way you never had, pulling out its gloomy beauty where most would only see the smog and the crime. Tim seemed to appreciate your almost naive perspective, enjoying the kindhearted way you reminded him of the good in humanity. When he got too cynical, you were able to convince him to give others the benefit of the doubt. It was almost cute, he thought, the way you never seemed to truly understand the kinds of personalities making up most of Gotham’s business scene.
You even served as his very own assistant when he broke a leg in a hiking incident, which apparently happened during a family camping trip. You hadn’t even known he could hike, though you assumed he wasn’t very good. Still, he spent ages just showing you pictures of the wildlife he’d seen, knowing you loved his photos. The tedious task of painstakingly searching his photo archives for pictures of cute animals was worth it, just to see your smile.
Still, you could tell Tim tended to make others uncomfortable. You could understand, he did have a way of staring right into you, but it seeemd to just be something he did. You weren’t aware, of course, of the fact that Tim only ever turned that soft gaze toward you, preferring to glare at anyone that so much as approached the two of you. Your naive disposition did have its uses, after all, as it prevented you from getting suspicious… There was a reason why no one would approach you at work, and why all of your bosses seemed nervous around you, and why you got sudden pay increases. You just thought you were a good worker, completely oblivious to everything else going on.
If Tim thought threatening off any love interests was easy, bugging your apartment was even easier. He was able to simply slip in through an unlocked window as Red Robin and place cameras all over, giving him 24-7 footage of your living room and kitchen. he avoided both the bathroom and bedroom; he didn’t want to be too creepy, after all, even if Jason did seem to want the bedroom to be bugged, in case someone else was able to slip in. You weren’t the best at securing your apartment, and he worried about your safety, okay? As a result of his anxiety, Jason began patrolling more and more around your house, not that you’d ever notice; they’d have to teach you to start looking up at the rooftops more, after they fully brought you into the family, of course.
Using the information he gained from the cameras, Tim was only able to get even closer to you. He was able to research your interests, your opinions, your hobbies… He was able to learn anything he couldn’t get from hacking your laptop and phone. It was different, hearing your little rants at the tv screen as you watched your favorite show; reading your search history just didn’t give him enough information.
Finally, with the help of Cass of course, he was able to ask you out, after ironing out the perfect plan. He took you out to the movies and then dinner, finally ending up at your apartment, watching your favorite movie while cuddling on your couch. It was there you first kissed.
Dating your boss was definitely an adjustment, but honestly the two of you were so close it didn’t seem to change anything. The best part for Tim was finally being able to touch you, to hold your hand, to gently cup your cheek and plant a kiss on your lips… To be able to hold you in the way he’d always dreamed.
Yet, he found himself inundated with requests at the mansion and through the groupchat, as every family member clamoured to get to spend time with you. He started spotting Dick and Jason and even Cass in shoddy disguises while on dates, and he knew it was time to introduce you to them. So, he invited you for dinner.
When you first walked in, you were greeted with Alfred, the stoic butler Tim had always described. He seemed nicer in person, none of the dry wit you’d ben prepared to face, and he took your coat gently and with grace.
Next, you were introduced to Tim’s quiet sister Cass, who wrapped you in a big hug and patted you on the back. She was nice, if hard to read, and seemed to love touching you; she kept gently patting your back, even throughout the night, as if she couldn’t bare to go another moment without keeping close to you.
Then you met Jason, who was busy cooking in the kitchen, Dick sitting on the counter and sneaking carrots when Jason’s back was turned. The two were incredibly kind, though intimidating, as you knew their opinions mattered a lot to Tim. Dick picked you up in a big sweeping hug, seemingly even more touchy than his sister.
Jason was quiet, weirdly so according to Tim, and spent a lot of the night just… staring at you. Maybe he felt uncomfortable being around you? You could imagine having a sibling introduce their partner would be awkward, and you knew the Waynes had had their fair share of terrible romances. later on, when you voiced your worries to Tim, he waved them away; Jason was just trying not to freak you out, he insisted, sure that his older brother would never be able to hate you.
The final brother you met was Damian, who was curled up on the couch with a cat in his lap and two dogs at his feet. He was a quiet child, a seemingly permanent glare on his face only softening slightly when it landed on you. The only way you knew he didn’t hate you was the fact that he let you pet his cat, who was apparently named after the butler.
You only met Tim’s elusive father at dinner. He was kind, if a little ditzy, and quite welcoming. All in all, the family was polite, and you felt truly welcomed for the first time in your life. It was like you’d known them for years, you seemed to just… click!
Of course, looking back, you could see how they knew you so well.
It had happened out of the blue. You’d been drinking some hot chocolate after winding down with the family, watching a cute cartoon on their large tv, and the next thing you knew was that you were waking up in a dark room. Tim was sitting next to you in the bed, laptop illuminating his pale face, highlighting the dark eyebags.
“Oh good, you’re up!” he said, setting his laptop aside and turning the bedside lamp on. You sat up, confused, rubbing at your throbbing head. You felt like you hadn’t drank water in three days. When you asked what had happened, he only smiled.
“It’s alright, don’t worry, we can talk about that later.”
Now feeling slightly uncomfortable, you stood up. Tim shifted slightly, following you and placing himself between you and the door. “Hey, let’s just sit back down, okay? I don’t want you to be too stressed, the dose was a little higher than I expected…”
Dose? When you questioned him, he laughed sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his head. His eyes blinked back at you, seemingly innocent despite your terror.
“Well, we needed time to get you all set up, and we couldn’t have you fighting when we sent in your resignation…” He said, smiling gently.
Shit. Shit! He’d fucking kidnapped you!
You went to dodge around him, but he moved faster than you were able to even anticipate, grabbing you around the waist and hoisting you into the air.
He plopped you back onto the bed, quickly pinning you down. “Hey, calm down!” He said, voice even, as though he wasn’t currently fighting to keep your hands from smacking at his face.
“I promise it’s okay, we won’t hurt you!”
Then, the door slammed open, and in walked Jason. His combat boots thunked against the shiny wooden floor, and he seemed nonplussed. “why aren’t you stopping them?” He questioned, leaning against the wall next to the bed. He pulled out his phone and quickly sent a text, fingers flying across the keys. He ignored your calls for help.
“I’m trying!” Tim huffed, finally able to get your hands under control, quickly tying them with thick, velvety rope.
“Do you need help getting them downstairs?” Jason sighed, tucking the phone away.
“Nah, I got it,” Tim said, standing up and heaving you up and over his shoulder. With that, Tim and Jason made their way downstairs, you tossed over Tim’s shoulder and struggling all the way. It fewlt particularly humiliating, the way that your struggles weren’t even acknowledged, much less viewed as a threat.
Finally, you were brought into the living room and plopped down, Tim and Jason quickly sitting down on either side of you. Jason quickly picked up your legs and slung them across his lap, keeping you from wiggling away.
Bruce sat down on the other side of the room, sinking into the green armchair. The other siblings scattered across the room, all staring at you with a similar gleam in their eyes.
“So, let’s go over some ground rules.” Bruce said, beginning the next phase of your life.
#yandere batman#yandere batfam#yandere platonic batfam#yandere tim drake#yandere damian wayne#yandere bruce wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere cassandra cain#yandere jason todd#lethwrites
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heyyy can u make a smut read for jake sim as ur co model, modeling w u for tiffany and co, u both are idols and tiff and co ambassdors and get into dating rumors w each other being called the 4th gen it couple. u guys model for the shoot and then go into a room and do some things can u do that request??
i’m sorry this took so long it’s an amazing idea !
sim jaeyun — “picture perfect”
pairing: idol!s.jy x idol!fem!reader
cw: SMUT, unprotected sex (he pulls out), semi-public sex, implied first time, making out, jake is packing heheh, a little size kink i had to throw in there, implied multiple rounds
not proofread, enjoy! (MDNI)
debuting in the same company as enhypen was already enough drama for you and jake.
you never expected to get the dating rumours you dreaded to hear of, it was more frustrating to hear about it everyday. paparazzi following you everywhere just to catch you with jake, it was exhausting.
i mean, you were just minding your own business and promoting your songs. it got even worse when your managers thought it was such a great idea for you two to do a dance challenge together.
“they’ll love it” and they did. everyone went crazy over it, hybe barely let you two have interactions so this was enough.
the rumours got even worse when you got a phone call one day from your manager telling you that you got scouted to be an ambassador for tiffany & co. you were excited at first but when you arrived at the infamous building, you noticed jake was there too. it didn’t take long before he noticed you too.
he smiled.
his smile is beautiful, it brings you warmth. but at the same time.. his smile brings anyone that same warmth, right?
you both greet each other and wait for your managers. you catch up a bit, laughing together at the rumours. of course you were both aware but it was impossible for you to respond to the rumours, that’s a pretty strict rule when it comes to idols.
“you’ll have to do couple shoots, it’s what the company wants.” the manager comes back, her words ringing over and over in your head.
“really? couple shoots after all the rumours?” you thought. you continue with a sigh, “well this won’t shut them up..”
jake looks pretty unaffected by the whole thing, almost enjoying the words spread by the media. even if they aren’t true, it doesn’t seem to affect him as much as they affect you.
“sweet.” he mumbles through his teeth, enjoying the idea of you doing couple shoots a bit too much.
regardless, you get started on it, wearing your jewelry that you’re supposed to promote, showing it to the camera. you both get in a few close positions, putting your hand up, leaning your head back a bit to show all the sparkly necklaces and bracelets.
the photographer requested you’d both get in a position where jake is hugging you from behind, arm over your shoulder.
you quickly get into position, fixing your hair before grabbing onto his wrist.
you both look at the camera and you try to focus on it but.
he’s so close to you.
you can’t deny it, you love his scent. you love his warmth.
you never wanted this shoot to end. where was this coming from?
after the shoot was done, you smiled at him and thanked him for cooperating with you.
you both looked through the pictures, choosing your favourite ones together.
you suddenly loved the idea to model along with jake, you loved modeling with him, for him.
each time you entered that building you got ready for him.
you didn’t know why you were feeling this way but it’s what you wanted.
after the photos were posted to both your accounts, the fire was about to spread.
“newsflash! y/n and jake are dating!”
you roll your eyes. “how could we be dating, we just did a photoshoot together.”
that logic flies over anyone’s head and it’ll be too late to deny anything. you both subconsciously agreed that you don’t think about dating, the rumour is just persistent enough to be everything you can think about.
your names spread like wildfire over the whole internet, the title “4th gen it couple” paired with them. funny how you were called that even if you weren’t a couple in the first place.
4th gen it couple.
it seemed so important yet so stupid knowing the truth. “more like 4th gen it fake couple” you both joke around.
it came around the time to do another one of those shoots.
you both get dressed and ready.. but when you saw him in a stunning black suit, hair on his face.. you couldn’t stand it anymore.
you felt this burning sensation inside, it was like passion. a sudden passion to have him.
he kept checking you out before the shoot, his eyes touching your plush skin, your pretty face, your pretty lips.
he’d been feeling like this ever since you debuted. he found you the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
he was clearly in love. what else could he say? i mean the rumours might as well just be helping his case.
“ready to do this, rumoured boyfriend?” you smile at him, feeling confident.
he smiles back, playfully sticking out his tongue at you. “you know i am, rumoured girlfriend.”
during the photo shoot, you two just got closer and closer. your lips weren’t almost touching just for the picture. there was an energy like a magnet pulling you both in.
you stare at each other, slightly smirking.. completely forgetting about the camera in front of you.
he slowly travels his hand down to your waist, grabbing it gently. you don’t push his hand away, instead you rest your hands on his chest, the rings on your fingers reflecting the studio lights.
the voice of the amazed photographer became a background noise, your ears captivated by the sound of your heart beating out of your chest.
“cut!” the director yelled, making you both snap out of it.
you were about to kiss right there. you felt it.
he releases the grasp on your waist, making you crave more.
the photographer praises you both for your performance and you both shyly thank him, only thinking about how to get out of there together.
suddenly, jake makes a lousy excuse to everyone who tries approaching you on set, grabbing your hand to pull you in a spare makeup room.
you’re a bit stunned, but you’re so determined to get that suit off him and he knows.
he pulls you into that intoxicating kiss, you swore to not pull away until you were satisfied and he seemed to always want more.
you both make out, your kisses more sloppy as time went on. you grab onto his hair to pull his lips in deeper, the taste keeping you addicted.
he keeps a few moans down his throat, the kisses too heated for him to interrupt now.
“i need you.” you mumble through kisses.
“i know baby. i know.” he smiles into the kiss. but then he pushes you back real hard trying to smash his lips onto yours harder.
he succeeds to insert his tongue inside your mouth, only slurping noises being heard throughout that quiet room.
your hands stop at his shirt, tugging on it with all your strength.
“take it off.” you say while breaking the kiss. you wanted to go all out. you didn’t care, let the rumours become reality.
he does exactly as you say. he slowly takes his shirt off and that body is everything you’ll think about from now on. fuck he was so hot. you knew he looked good, but maybe not this good.
you trace his abs with your fingers, enjoying every second of this until he grabs onto your wrists to make you look at him.
“i know you like what you see, let me undress you first. you’ll be looking at my abdomen as i pound into you anyway.” he smirks. oh he knows too damn well what he’s doing to you.
your mind almost collapses hearing his words.
you try to get back on track, not wanting to keep him waiting. you nod at his request as your stomach is dancing within you.
he drags his fingertips all over your body, giving you shivers down your spine.
he stops at your top to take it off, exposing your bra. he seems captivated already, slowly moving his hands up to cup your breasts, looking at you for reassurance.
you bite your lip at him and start begging him to touch you already.
he takes your bra off, already touching and pinching at your breasts. you let out quiet moans that he absolutely adores, leaning in to kiss them a bit.
it doesn’t last too long, figuring that he doesn’t want to keep you waiting either, knowing how desperate you were for him.
he makes you lay on a couch that’s there, quickly crawling on top of you. he starts kissing at your neck, being careful to not leave too many hickeys.. but those few he left being a bit too visible to anyone.
he slowly takes off your skirt, leaving you in your panties only.
he notices how wet you got for him, he laughs.
“you’re so wet, shit i can’t wait to fuck you.” you giggle at his remark, getting hornier than before.
“fuck me faster then.. please.”
he nods. he’s ready if you are.
he takes his prada belt off to unzip his pants as fast as he can. he takes off his pants as well as his boxers halfway, exposing his cock already.
he was huge, nothing you couldn’t take. oh you would do anything for him right now, but he was big. it’d be a stretch to say that it won’t be hard for you to take him in. (yes that was a small pun)
he spreads your legs to pull your panties aside, foreplay going out the window. you two had practically no time to beat it around the bush.
“ready?” he says, positioning himself to your pussy. “i’ll be slow, don’t worry. tell me if anything’s wrong.” he reassures you again.
you nod, looking down to see what he’s doing. he slowly pushes himself inside you, going as slow as he possibly can. it still stretches you out badly. you’ll need to get used to it for a bit.
once he’s all in, he gives you time to adjust until you give him the signal to keep going. once you feel comfortable enough, you squeeze his forearm to make him thrust in and out of you.
he starts, going slow for you. he lets out a small moan being careful to not hurt you.
once you start moaning with him, he gets the signal to go faster. he picks up a normal pace, grabbing onto your knees.
you start moaning more often, loving how he feels in you.
he throws his head back while thrusting into you, digging his nails into your knees.
“faster.. please.” you cry out. he picks up his pace significantly. he definitely knows what he’s doing. he’s so good he’s making your head spin.
you clench up around him due to the pleasure and he hisses at you, the pleasure getting too much.
“feels so good..” he breathes out, leaning in over you to give you a few kisses.
you both moan into the kisses, the air around you getting more tense.
this keeps going for a pretty long time, his pace consistent and his moans louder with every thrust.
you try to push yourself back, trying to not cum already but you can’t. he feels that you’re close.
“cum for me baby.” he whisper shouts.
oh how you wished to hear those words fly out his mouth. you cum all over him, your legs giving out with a tremble.
he picks up his pace as much as possible, chasing his own high. you grab onto the couch material, waiting for him to cum.
he stops thrusting into you to pull out, just to stroke himself a few times. his cum shoots all over your stomach as he has his eyes rolled back. you were both out of breath and moments away from anyone catching you.
but who cares, one round wasn’t enough. you needed more of him.
you give him another kiss, smiling at him.
“fuck me against this couch.. please.” you try sitting up, already thinking to bend over it.
he smiles, finding your desperation quite cute. “ready for another round already? who knew my rumoured girlfriend was this desperate for me…” he teases.
“oh come on, aren’t you ready to make it official? we want each other.” you both smile thinking about it.
you both wanted to be the picture perfect couple.
thank u for this request (˶ˆᵕ ˆ˶)
#enhypen#kpop#kpop bg#enhypen hard hours#enhypen smut#jake hard thoughts#jake smut#jake sim#enhypen jake#jake x reader#sim jaeyun#jaeyun x reader#enhypen jaeyun#jaeyun smut#sim jake#jaeyun imagines#jaeyun scenarios#jake imagines#jake scenarios
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The Wolf You Feed (Part 4)
Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Word Count: 8.1k
Part 4 / ? (Ongoing) A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T
Summary: Set in a fictional New England town, you fall for your handsome, intense and outdoorsy neighbor while renting out your parent's vacant summer home during a brutal winter.
Chapter Warnings: ANGST. Smut. POV-Switching. Rated Explicit. 18+ MDNI. See series masterlist for complete warnings.
A/N: This one is gonna hurt. I’m so sorry.
You get ready for bed and eye the flannel that you stole from Joel’s house. You hold it close to your chest and breathe in his scent that still lingers.
You strip down to nothing but your lacy panties and don his shirt. You precariously drape it off your shoulders and look at yourself in the mirror.
Joel would love this.
Your hair is still damp and messy from your shower but you look clean and bright. The I’m positively smitten glow you have makes you radiate.
You position yourself on your bed perched on your knees with your legs spread open. You adjust the shirt just right to hang over your shoulders and around your breasts, just barely covering your nipples.
With your phone positioned slightly above you, you snap a pic while making your most innocent face. Your full body is in the frame and perfectly teasing with your frumpy shirt placement. Your sluttiest black, lacey panties also help to conceal just enough to be a tease.
You: Getting ready for bed
You attach the photo and send it. You sit back on your heels and eagerly watch for the read receipt. He is quick to reply.
Joel: Goddamn
Joel: Beautiful
A brief pause.
Typing. Typing. Typing.
Joel: Got any more?
Your heart skips a beat. You absolutely want to give him more.
You: Maybe
You sit back and let the flannel shirt drape open, fully exposing your breasts and your hardened nipples. You sit more upright, and grab a fistfull of your hair and gaze up to the camera, looking a little deranged and lustful. You eye your photo before sending it, impressed with yourself.
Sent.
Joel: Fuck
Joel: Look at them tits
You smirk as you imagine him losing his mind and hope he is as horny as you are. You feel your heat begin to surge inside. You feel so needy for his cock.
You: Your turn
You weren’t too sure what to expect or if he would even play along but after a minute you got your answer.
The photo he sends is so poorly taken, it is endearing when you get over the disappointment of not having his dick perfectly photographed. It’s dark and grainy. You can just make out the navy blue sheets under his skin to deduce he is in his bed too. His black t-shirt is pulled up just slightly and his hand is what's mostly in focus, holding onto his cock that is peeking out of his flannel pajama pants. He is pulling his foreskin down tight making the head of his cock flush with color against his skin. The shadowiness makes his happy tail look even thicker and more unruly than what you have seen.
Nevertheless, it is undeniably Joel. The flutter you get inside that you only ever felt from him.
You: Joel, how naughty
One more photo, he earned it.
This time, you let the shirt fall off completely to your hips. You slide one of your hands into your panties and hook your thumb over the edge to pull them down. You make a “V” with your fingers and press yourself apart so your swollen clit is in full view. With your free hand you snap one last picture and send it. This one is more focused and does not show your face, but it certainly was an eyeful. You doubt he would even be looking elsewhere.
Your message is instantly read. After a moment Joels typing comes and goes until it stops completely. You wonder if he is touching himself. Hope he is touching himself. You impatiently rub your fingers against yourself while you wait, aching at the thought of him.
Your screen changes to an incoming call from Joel Miller.
Of course you answer it as calmly as you can.
“Hey, Mr. Miller.” You greet him with a flirty tone.
“Mmm what are you doing to me, baby girl.” He speaks low and sounds relaxed and groggy. You wonder if you woke him up when you sent the first pic and kind of hope you did.
“Just getting ready for bed and thinking about you.”
You hear him make a breathy acknowledgement and you know he is stroking himself just by how he is breathing. You feel bolder and more daring talking to him on the phone. You can be a tease and he can’t do anything about it.
You put it on speaker so you can have both your hands free.
“Wishing it was your fingers on me.” You lay back on your bed and slide your fingers over your clit until a moan escapes you. “Or your cock.”
“Mmm. Keep going,” he growls low.
Even on the phone he has to be bossy. His voice cuts straight through you. Always so commanding but spoken with a warmness that makes you melt.
You slide a finger inside your wet and needy cunt and use your other hand to tease your clit.
“Joel…” you rasp his name low as you moan. “How hard are you right now?”
You hear him chuff quietly.
“Bout ready to come, sweetheart.”
His shallow breathing and occasional grunt cheers you on. Your hands are so inadequate compared to his. You need to be filled by him. Want his rough hands putting friction in all the right spots.
You fumble with your nightstand drawer for your dildo. His ears pick up on the creak of the wooden drawer opening and he stops you in your tracks.
“No toys.” His stern voice commands. “I want you to get off with your fingers.”
You can hear his grin on the other end.
“... and beg for my cock.”
That wouldn’t be hard to do. You already are screaming inside for him to put you out of your misery. Your performative moans are now all too real.
“Joel… fuck.” You whine but bring your hand back to your opening and press inside with two of your fingers while you massage your clit.
His authoritative demands empower you. Hearing him breathing, groaning and barking orders at you makes it a lot easier to get yourself to the edge. Despite how tiny your hands are in comparison, your mind fills in all the gaps as his voice penetrates your ears.
“I want you to fill me,” you whine.
“Mmm. Gonna make a mess of me.” He sounds haggard. He has been holding back his own release for sure. The thought of making Joel Miller come undone over the phone is intoxicating.
You moan and your breath hitches as you can feel yourself teetering on the edge. Pleading to release.
“Joel…” You whimper. Begging.
“Come for me, baby.” His commanding tone returns, beckoning you to do as he asks.
“Let me hear you. Come for daddy.”
You gasp at his words. That was never something you thought you were into. It went straight to your pussy. Your walls flutter around your fingers as you replay his words in your head. You do come for him, hard, and let him hear you climaxing over the thoughts of him inside you.
“Mmmm.” He groans low as you ride your climax high and let your desperate sounds tip him over the edge.
His labored breathing and raspy moans pick up and you know he is coming.
He goes silent and You can just imagine him laying in his bed with his cock in his hand, pumping himself until he comes over his knuckles. Spent and sticky.
A moment passes as you both breathe heavily catching your breath. Enjoying the moment with one another and relishing in the aftermath of your shared experience.
“Such a good girl.” He praises. “Now, get some sleep.”
You roll your eyes. As if sleeping was going to come easy at this point.
“Night, sweetheart.”
“Night… daddy.” You smirk to yourself, amused and satisfied, and hang up.
You were pretty shocked to see Joel in your driveway come the next morning. He was scraping ice off your windshield and there was a fresh tossing of salt and sand on your walkway. There was some freezing rain overnight, unbeknownst to you.
“Hey, you really don’t have to do that for me.” You call out as you lock your door and make your way down the path.
“I know.” He scrapes at the last bits of frost. “Still gonna.”
You brighten at the way he says it. Feminism be damned, it felt really good to have this man looking out for you.
You were looking real cute in your Bean boots and beanie. Acting a little more timid compared to your late night activities.
You shoved your hands in your jacket pockets and walked over to your car with a cutesy spring in your step. Joel tried to hide his disdain for your carefree jaunt down the icy path. Still, he looked so handsome in his brown suede coat and his relentless refusal to wear a winter hat. Always wielding that power to make you melt in his presence.
“Thank you.” You smile at him as you approach him at arm's length. “Still not giving you the shirt back,” you tease.
“Don’t want it back.” He holds back a smirk and quickly looks you over. Reliving last night's photos, you can imagine. You suppress a wicked smile imagining him saving them in his main album like a heathen.
He takes a step towards you and with his gloved hand he gently holds your chin and brushes his thumb over. You note the subtle way his eyes soften. His longing stare makes it feel like he isn’t going to see you for a long time, and it lingers. He drops his hand and puts it on his hip. His other hand fidgets with his leg like he is unsure what to do.
“I’m not gonna be around for a little while” He hesitates and looks like he wants to say more and you pickup that something is off. Something he still has decided you are not privy to know about. Whatever has been bothering him the past few days is still weighing on him. “I got some stuff to take care of and I’ll be real busy.”
“Ok, Joel.” You don’t give away that you think he sounds suspicious. Guilty even. You want to press him, but you let it go, again. You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off.
“I’ll call you, alright?” His voice is firm, there is no room for questions.
“Alright.” You force a smile and he nods and heads to his truck. It was hard not to take that as asking you not to bother him. He wasn’t being unkind in his tone, but he wasn’t being truthful either.
You can’t shake the feeling that something is off.
You are dragging your feet at work. After your late night fun with Joel your mind was wide awake and you had trouble sleeping.
Marlene is extra bubbly today. She is riding the Friday wave and you are grateful she takes on more of the customer facing role while you just work mindlessly making endless orders of lattes and cold brews.
“So, do you wanna?”
“Huh?” she had been talking to you, apparently.
“Do you want to go out tonight?”
“Oh. Yeah, ok.”
“You sound really interested.” She says sarcastically while she stares at you and crosses her arms.
“Sorry, just tired. Yes, I’d love to.”
“Good. Meet at Copper’s around 8? They are doing all night happy hour and open mic.”
“Sounds good.” And it does sound good. Something to do to keep yourself busy and it’s better than going home and watching Netflix by yourself. You have no idea how long Joel is going to be occupied and Marlene is the only other person you would consider a friend since moving there. It would be nice to spend some real time with her outside of work.
“Its not the classiest place, but the crowd is good. Dress slutty and maybe we can get some free drinks.” Marlene jokes, but you have every intention to dress like a knockout and have a good time.
When you walk in it becomes obvious you are overdressed. Many eyes were on you. You stuck out and had a lot of attention, some unwanted, but it also was flattering. Your choice of black minidress was conventionally good for a night of drinking and letting loose, but less practical once you walked through the door and saw what you were working with.
Copper’s was just a few notches above a dive bar and significantly less upscale than the late night Boston clubs and speakeasy’s you frequented. It was mostly crawling with locals, many of which you recognized from Grind. Despite that, the energy felt good. Friendly faces lit up when they saw you and even more cast some not-so-conspicuous stares at your body when they thought you were not looking.
The expansive bar wrapped around the back wall and there was a small stage on the wall across from it. High tops and tables filled out most of the middle with little room to do much more than sit and socialize. Get drunk off beer and cocktails and fat off appetizers and hot wings. The whole place was a little chaotic and rough but it felt cherished. It embodied that small town feel that was brought to life by the patrons.
Marlene walks up to you with some sort of fruity cocktail in each hand. Dressed much more casually than you with a high waisted denim skirt and a low cut band tee.
“About time you get here. Damn, girl!” She looks you up and down as she hands you the drink. “You don’t play around.” You share a laugh, and relish your new, unexpected friendship.
The cocktail is overkill on the sweetness but the vodka hits you hard when you take a sip.
“You didn’t tell me this place was a dive!” You tease.
“Well it’s the only bar we have open year-round so don’t knock it.” She pretends to scold you.
“I’m joking. This is perfect.” And it was.
You and Marlene make quick work of your drinks as you float around the bar. She introduces you to new people and you get friendlier with familiar faces. The bartender flirts with you when he learns you are new to town and you indulge in some harmless fun.
The bar is quickly filling up and you think it must be a fire code violation at this point. You buy the second round of drinks and take a seat while you still can. Laughter and the high from your buzz set you on the right path and you are filled with gratitude for your new friendships and your new home.
[Joel POV]
Joel fiddles with his empty beer bottle, unsure what the hell he is doing. Tess should be arriving any moment now, and he is no closer to ending things with her.
He has his guitar in tow, stowed against the wall. He perches himself in the very last seat, enjoying some solitude while the bar slowly starts to fill in.
He raises two fingers at the bartender and signals that he is ready for another beer. The bartender returns a moment later with a fresh Budweiser.
“There he is!”
Joel spins on his bar stool to the familiar voice.
“Hey Frank. Bill.” He nods to them as Frank slaps his back enthusiastically and sits down next to him.
“Been a while. Tess coming too?”
“S’posed to.” Joel takes a swig of his beer and doesn't give them much of an opportunity to ask more.
Bill sits silently on the other side of Frank, orders two beers and slides one to Frank. He never was one to talk much compared to his counterpart.
“Well, we have missed you. It has been at least a month since we have seen you.” Frank turns to Bill, urging him to converse a little. They were all old friends, but Tess was the one that tended to be the glue between them.
Bill nods in agreement. “Ain’t like it used to be. Not missing much.” Joel keeps to himself, staying mostly quiet while the other two make small talk between themselves. They know Joel well enough to recognize when he is in a mood and to give him space.
Tess walks up to the bar shortly after and throws her arms around Frank in surprise.
“Hey Stranger!” She turns to Bill and does the same thing but he is much more reserved. She intentionally makes him uncomfortable with an embrace, making Frank laugh at his discomfort.
Joel turns his body so his legs are back under the counter and sips his beer. The three of them chatter for a few minutes while Joel broods.
“They are going to start soon. Lets grab a table before they are all taken.” Frank was already buzzed and it made him even more eccentric.
“I’m fine right here.” Joel declines.
“Alright, well join us if you want to later.” Frank taps his shoulder and shuffles off towards some tables closer to the stage. Bill follows behind after giving a silent nod to Joel and Tess and lifting his beer to gesture goodbye. Poor Bill was not one for going out and socializing, but he did it for Frank.
Tess takes Frank’s seat and hails the bartender right away. She notices it's not their regular guy and isn’t too impressed with him making her wait. A silence looms for a few moments. The air is awkward and tense.
“Two shots of whiskey.” She requests and glances over at Joel as the bartender pulls out two shot glasses. Joel nods in agreement.
“Wasn’t sure if I’d see you tonight.” Joel is the first to speak.
“Likewise.” Tess says sharply but follows up softer. “I’m glad to see you.”
The bartender finishes pouring the shots and pushes one to each of them. They knock them back.
“Look, I meant what I said.” Joel sounds like he is reassuring himself as much as her.
“I know.” She retorts. His eyes find doubt in her words. “Jesus, Joel, I know. Can’t we just have some drinks? Don’t be such a sour puss.”
Joel scoffs at her words. He pushes his empty shot glass away and taps near his glass when the bartender walks closer. He pours another round. Joel and Tess knock back a second shot. It isn’t nearly enough to help him deal with his issues but it does help him lighten up a little.
Tess leans against Joel's shoulder and presses her hand onto the top of his thigh. She always was a lightweight, and had no problems coming on to him. No doubt she had pre-gamed before coming out, same as Joel.
“Why can’t it just be like this?” she traces a circle on his leg and moves her finger closer to his groin. He shifts his leg as she grazes his zipper.
“Nothings’ ever easy with us, Tess.” Joel pauses and puts his hand over hers. Reluctantly he peels her hand away. “We don’t want the same things anymore.”
“You don’t want this anymore?” She slides her hand back over his zipper this time with more force and she feels him twitch under the denim. She strokes her fingers down his length pressing into his seam. He stifles a groan and stirs in his seat.
“Tess..” His words plead her to stop, but his body reacts to her touch as it always does. Betraying his good intentions. Their attraction for one another was never in question. It just made things a whole lot more complicated. It was hard for him to resist her advances, and he wasn’t even sure he wanted to. She wasn’t exactly cooperating with his poor attempts to resist either.
“‘Course I do.” He looks at her, wantonly and holds her gaze. He pauses and chooses his words carefully. “But it’s not enough.”
She was observant of his reaction, calculating what sort of leverage she had left with Joel. She could see his genuine anguish and was reminded too well of the circumstances that brought them together in the first place. She never said it in all those years, not once, but she did love him.
“We can make it work… we always do.” Tess tries to reason with him, but she has defeat in her voice.
“It’s too late for us, Tess.” Joel reaches a hand out to the side of her face and gently holds her. She removes her hand from his lap and wraps around his forearm and covers his hand with her own, leaning into his touch. The moment is intimate and despite a room full of people it felt like they were the only two. The unspoken love between them was always there as a thread to keep them together. This was not ending because the love was gone, it was ending because it had no more room to grow.
He could see that she was finally accepting what he was saying. At least she was trying to. He brushed his thumb over her cheek and reassured her with his touch that his feelings for her were not lost, but he was not going to give into them anymore.
“I need a clear mind.” He locks eyes with her as he takes his hand back. “I’m playing tonight.”
“You are?” She pulls away, surprised and easily distracted with the subject change. She looks down and eyes Joel’s guitar case leaning against the bar. “Singing too?” Joel nods. This feels familiar and comforting.
“Well I’ll be damned.” Tess’ smile fades and expression softens, filled with sadness. A realization that they had moved away so far from where they used to be. A silent moment lurks but it is not unwanted. It gives them both time to think.
“I never asked you for anything.” Tess utters quietly. Joel nods in agreement, silently reliving all the things he loved about her. Still loves about her.
“Never had to.” Joel gives a gentle side smile. Their eyes meet. Eyes that are intimate and mourning all at once. Hopeful and nostalgic.
He was always going to love Tess.
She stands to interrupt the silence and reaches for his hand to follow.
“Lets find Bill and Frank. I wanna sit with them while you play.”
“Alright.”
Joel leaves his guitar at the bar and follows close behind her. The room is getting more and more crowded by the minute. The first act is wrapping up and switching over to another singer. The bar is alive with excitement.
Following Tess into the crowd his heart drops. There you are, just a few tables in front of him, sitting at a hightop with Marlene. Dressed incredibly sexy with your short dress and your cropped leather jacket. Knee high boots and your hair flowy and free. He wished he could take you right there and have his way with you.
You looked so happy. So unaware of what was about to happen. Innocent and at peace.
Tess grabs his arm and pulls him towards your table, excited to see you and Marlene and she makes a beeline to say hello.
You shouldn’t be here. His brain screams and his heart races. His chest gets heavy and tight as he inches closer to your table, unable to stop the encounter. It was too late. You had already noticed him approaching when Tess called your name and you saw him in tow.
He should have told you from the start, but he didn’t. Even if nothing had happened with Tess since he started falling for you he was well aware how this was going to look.
He was finally making some progress with Tess and couldn’t risk that getting ruined. At your expense, too. There was no other way.
And he knew right at that moment he was the biggest asshole in the world.
[Reader POV]
You turn your head as you hear your name being called out. You see Tess first and just towering behind her is Joel. It was impossible to miss him with his broad shoulders and brooding scowl. For a brief moment, you light up to see him when your eyes catch his.
He was a sight to behold. Wearing a button up navy blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up on his tight forearms. Jeans hugging his body and perfectly accenting his burly frame. His hair was also slicked back and styled like he gelled it fresh out of the shower. The moody lighting masking his silver streaks more than usual. He looked absolutely delicious and it made you ache for him all over again. You had just put him out of your mind too. It didn’t take much to stir up those feelings again when your desire for him was relentless and insatiable. Your heart races, fueled by your longing.
Until you realize they are together.
A wave of dread washes over you. Joel immediately looks away from you in a panic, confirming your fear that something is wrong. He won’t look at you but you can’t take your eyes off of him and ignore everything else around you.
“This is my new star employee. She’s wonderful.” Tess lights up talking about you and playfully bumps into your shoulder. She is babbling on but you have no idea what she is saying because you aren't listening to her anymore. Too preoccupied with figuring out what was happening. Questioning why Tess was introducing you to the man you had been fucking for the past few weeks. The man who had naked photos of you on his phone. The man you were hopelessly besotted with.
Joel’s eyes glance up at you and for the first time ever he looks sheepish. He holds his hand out standard and practical. Emotionless like it's a formal business greeting.
“Joel. Nice to meet you.” You stare, dumbfounded by his words, spoken so nonchalant.
Nice to meet me?
He holds his hand out firmly, waiting for you to take it. His eyes plead with you to go along with it. You lightly grasp his hand. His fingertips drag tenderly as he pulls it away, as if they were apologizing. You say nothing but force a pathetic half-smile.
Tess clearly having one too many drinks hangs off of his shoulder and bumps into his hips. You try to hide the confusion and disgust on your face. Joel refuses to look at you again after your introduction.
He doesn’t reciprocate her energy at all. He looks like a lost dog. Uncomfortable and out of place. She seems oblivious to it, but you are dead focused on reading him to get some answers while she carries on talking. He is a stone wall, giving you nothing.
Marlene says something in response and the two of them laugh but you can’t hear anything but muddled voices over the loudness of your thoughts.
Joel nods at whatever she says but is silent. He looks so distant like he wants to shrink away. Guilty and cowardly.
Every piece of your being wants to scream. What is going on? You don’t want to assume anything. Maybe they are friends and you are overreacting. But then why wouldn’t he have said something sooner? Why did he pretend not to know you? Why won’t he even look at you? The questions keep piling up and your stomach is in knots.
“Come on, Joel.” She hooks her hand around his arm to pull him along. You’ve never seen him act so submissive. “See you girls later.”
As he brushes past you he catches your arm when no one is looking and he gives you the softest brush with the back of his hand. He tries to be inconspicuous and whispers in your ear as he passes.
“I’m so sorry.” His words stab you. They sound sincere and painful but offer no comfort or answers.
As Joel and Tess disappear into the crowded room of people, Marlene is quick to notice you are in your head but brushes it off as being a little drunk.
“God they are annoying.” Marlene shakes her head and takes a sip of her drink. You hear her talking, but still not really listening. You are preoccupied watching Tess take a seat a few tables away and see Joel make some brief small talk and wander off in the direction of the bar.
They didn’t look romantic, at least not from his angle. Are you just overreacting? The alcohol is probably just making you paranoid. You hate how insecure he makes you feel. The reality is that the more time you spend with him the harder it is to be apart. He was unlike any man you had ever been with on so many levels. He made you feel so needy for his attention, and jealous that he was with Tess in some capacity, instead of you. You feel foolish.
A singer briefly performs a song and the room gets loud again as voices rise between sets. You are silent and disassociating with everything around you, unsure if it's the buzz from the alcohol or your serotonin working overtime to calm you down.
“You ok?” Marlene asks.
“Yeah…”
Marlene prys. “You don’t look ok.”
It was obvious from that awkward moment earlier that she knew Joel. You wanted to spill and tell her everything and pick her brain, but your suspicions made you question where her loyalties may lie. You had never told her who your neighbor was and now you felt trapped and alone with this secret.
“I just need another drink.” You laugh and play it off coolly. “Gonna grab one at the bar, be right back.”
As you walk to the back of the room you take note of Tess still sitting at the table and talking to a few guys. It looks like they are familiar and catching up. Joel is standing at the crowded bar at the very end, mostly tucked away and probably how you missed seeing him sooner because you weren't looking for him. Against your better judgment you approach him.
You squeeze into the space next to him and try to keep a little distance from him, but your bare thigh rubs up against his leg as you step in and the person to your left pushes into you. He stays facing straight ahead and doesn’t acknowledge you, except to move his leg from its wide posture. His scowl works overtime to keep his composure. He takes a sip of his beer.
You hail the familiar bartender with your empty glass. He winks and goes to make you another. Drink three and he already has your order memorized and was probably hoping to get your number.
Joel stares him down as he walks away and you could have easily mistaken it for jealousy. The irony of it, as your harmless flirting was nothing compared to his potential relationship with your boss. You needed answers, whether or not Joel wanted to disavow you.
“You wanna tell me what the hell that was about?” Your voice is a little shaky, wavering through your anger and confusion.
“I owe you an explanation.” He nods, still staring off ahead.
You pause, waiting for him to say more, but he doesn’t. Your eyes bore into him and his ignoring you is making you fume more and more. You try to read him, and see the subtle changes as he gets more and more frustrated that you are not getting the hint to leave him alone.
“So… explain?” You push his chest, try to pry the information out of him. His jaw tenses. Glowering and annoyed. His calm facade being chiseled away by your incessant need for answers.
Joel looks at you with cold eyes. Sad eyes. Eyes you do not recognize. He recoils at your touch. Makes you feel like a dirty secret. He tips back his beer and downs the rest of the bottle.
“Can you please fucking say something?” You beg. You are annoyed at how he is acting. He was clearly frustrated by your being there and that anger was festering by the minute.
“This isn’t the time.” He says unphased by your request.
The bartender interrupts you to hand you your drink and gives Joel the side eye, no doubt noticing how prickly he was and how much your demeanor had changed from earlier.
“What are you staring at?” Joel snaps at the bartender. His intimidating tone was low but it was threatening. His misplaced anger was looking for any way to escape.
“Relax, bud.” He puts his hands up in a submissive gesture and backs off. He glances back over to you but you look away and don’t make eye contact with him again.
“She ain't’ interested.” He threatens and somehow makes himself look even bigger. The bartender nods with a knowing smile that might as well say ‘not worth the trouble’ as he grabs Joel’s empty beer bottle and moves on. He wasn’t interested enough to contest with Joel.
You hate how much it turns you on to see him get protective over you. His mixed signals were giving you whiplash. You suspect and even hope that his lashing out and acting this way is just a tactic to get you to leave the matter alone for now. It wasn’t going to work with you though. You were not afraid of him or intimidated.
His fingers curl over the counter and he flexes them, agitated. He taps his fingers in a rolling motion and pushes himself away from the bar with the heel of his hand.
“You should go home.” His words hurt and are spoken with finality through dark eyes that penetrate you. “We’ll talk about this later.”
“No.” Your brows furrow at the audacity. “I want to talk now.” You demand.
Joel ignores you and pushes past you to get to the back hallway. He makes you feel insignificant and like you are just an obstacle in his path to walk around. It makes you even more angry.
You tip back the bulk of your drink dangerously fast and follow him. There were so many people, no one was really paying attention to you and Joel, so why was he acting like this?
You stumble down the corridor to the bathrooms, instantly regretting your choices to drink so recklessly. It makes you feel gross and desperate that you have to chase him someplace so dark and secluded.
With his back to you he balls his hand into a fist and knocks on one of the bathroom doors with enough force to startle anyone in earshot. Someone inside yells that they need a minute.
He puts a hand on his hip and the other drags down his face as he paces and turns towards you. He knew you would follow. He fans his hand out in your direction, pleading with you to let this go.
“I said later.” His words sound tired from your persistence. He looks you up and down and you see something else in his eyes. Behind the anger, the hunger for you is still there.
“Joel.” Your anger starts to cool when you see how agitated he is. Afraid that you are just making everything worse. Maybe you should just leave this alone until later. You could be making a scene over nothing.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he speaks slowly and deliberately, trying to keep himself calm. You try to hold it back but you can’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes. Impatiently he bangs on the door again and an angry yell returns, calling him an impatient prick.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight.” You are not sure why you are the one defending yourself here. You feel the room spinning and reach to brace yourself on the wall before you stumble. The alcohol and the adrenaline of being afraid to lose Joel was just becoming too much.
Joel reaches out to you and grabs your wrist to steady you. He leads you a bit further down the hall, and just at the end is a small and dark alcove with storage boxes. You can still hear the loudness of Copper’s echoing through the hallway but at least it feels more private. Trashy, but discrete.
You back yourself against the wall, feeling overwhelmed by everything and your anger vanishing into nothing but hurt. Joel stands across from you with his arms crossed. He takes a deep breath.
“Listen. This ain’t got anything to do with you. Ok?” Now is your turn to respond with silence. You have a thousand questions but no words manage to come out, instead a tear drops down your face. You wipe it away quickly but he already noticed it.
“Sweetheart.” He closes the gap between you and holds your face in his hand, wiping his thumb over the wet trail on your cheek. You look up at him with glossy eyes and he looks pained to see you so upset. “Please don’t.”
You feel foolish crying given the real probability of infidelity. Still, you lean into his touch, craving the contact with him that he had been denying you. Soaking in his warmth and pushing the negative thoughts as far away as possible.
He presses up against you, pinning you against a stack of boxes. It is reserved but still so sensual. He pushes your hair behind your ear and combs his fingers through it, smelling your sweet scent mixing with his woodsy, pine cologne.
The heat from his cock feels so good against you, and you can feel him harden slightly when you push your hips into him. Even through tears your body can’t say no to Joel. His body towers over you and makes you feel calmer being in his clutches.
He sneaks a hand up the side of your leg and slips it under your dress. You feel his breath hot on your neck as he kisses you there. His scruff scrapes against the soft meat of your neck and makes you come undone. He presses his mouth into you, hedonic and greedy.
His thumb slides under the thin straps of your panties and he draws circles on your hip bone, dancing dangerously closer to your center. He doesn’t cross the threshold, and with restraint he slides his hand around to your hip over the top of your dress. He presses his forehead into yours and holds you there for a brief moment, relishing having you in his grasp.
As soon as the heated moment starts it fades and Joel takes a step back, holding you at arms length. With a desperation in his eyes, he speaks.
“Go home.” His words hurt. “Please. Go home.”
He turns and leaves you alone in the hallway, disappearing into the crowd. Discarding you like an unwanted problem. A mistake. Something to acknowledge only in the dark.
You feel absolutely blindsided and used and you don’t even know what is going on. You slide your back down the wall and curl your arms around your knees, hugging yourself. You have never felt more alone and abandoned. You hold yourself harder to keep back the tears.
Moments later you hear footsteps and a familiar voice rattles you back to earth. It’s Marlene, knocking on one of the bathroom doors asking if you are inside. You regain your composure and bring yourself to your feet and walk sheepishly towards her from the alcove. You adjust your dress and hair, both a little disrupted by Joel.
“There you are! Is everything ok? I’ve been looking for you.” You turn to face her and do your best to look composed and calm.
“Yeah I was just feeling my drink and had to get away for a minute.” You are a terrible liar.
“Uh huh...” She reaches her hand out and wipes some black makeup that still lingered on your cheek. “Don’t tell me you’re crying about that guy you’ve been seeing?” She tries to guess what could have you so upset. You fake a laugh and try to throw her off. She notices your messy hair. “Or did you makeout with that bartender that was hitting on you?” she asks excitedly.
“Nothing like that. I’m fine. Really.” You say with confidence but she is still skeptical. You take a few steps down the hallway. The words Joel begged of you before leaving you replay over and over.
“Hey, do you… know that guy?” You struggle to get his name out. “Joel?” She looks at you puzzled. Inquisitive. Amused at your question.
“Everyone knows Joel Miller.” She stares at you, her expression trying to hide some judgment but can’t resist. “Why?”
You don’t answer and just stare off blankly. You feel like a total idiot. A used trollop. She tries to read between the lines, assuming your drunk ass is crushing on him.
“Don’t get involved with Joel.” She warns and hooks her arm in yours and leads you back to the main room.
Your table had been scarfed up which was no surprise. There were so many people.
You are floating between being too drunk and carefree and on the verge of a mental breakdown. For now, the alcohol was keeping you afloat. This wasn’t the time or place to deal with whatever was going on with Joel and you were not in the right frame of mind to handle it.
You made up your mind. You were going to stay and try to salvage what was left of your night. You would stay clear of Joel. Why should he get to tell you what to do? You lose your footing and stumble but Marlene balances you.
“Ok… you need to drink water.” She mothers you and takes you by the shoulders to lead you back to the bar.
“Yes, mom.” You muster up a joke and take a deep breath.
Another half hour passes. You don’t see Joel but you don’t look for him either. You don’t want to see him or want him to see you. The water helps sober you up just slightly. The music is loud but soothing as it occupies your headspace. The current act was a man and woman duo singing something moody and playing guitar. They played a few songs and then the MC shared that they had just one more performer for tonight.
You lazily look at your phone and it’s so much later than you realized. You turn to ask Marlene if she is ready to go when you see him, walking towards the stage with a guitar slung on his back. Joel was the final performer? You watched him walk up to the stage with disbelief. He wanted you to go home so you wouldn’t see this? It felt forbidden to look and of course you needed to.
You had no idea he was the musical type. Realizing now you didn’t know much about him at all, apparently. The thought of that makes you feel sick.
You feel numb to everything around you. Maybe it was all just a bad dream. It had to be.
He takes his seat on a stool in front of the mic, propping up his guitar on his lap and strums a few chords. The audience is awakened. You hear people mumbling to their friends that they can’t believe Joel is playing again.
Apparently everyone but you.
You want to be angry. Upset that he was so deceptive to you and kept his life so secret. Dismissive about your desire to understand.
Your body betrays you, fluttering at the sight of him. The room is darkened and the light shining on him makes him look even more gorgeous, casting harsh shadows that accent his tight body. His silver streaks in his slicked hair catching the light and his broad frame defined perfectly in his well fitting shirt. His watch reflects the light as he positions his hand to cradle the neck of his guitar. His forearm flexes as he guides his hand over the strings. It makes you wet.
“This one’s…. for Tess.”
Your heart stops.
His voice wavers as he looks down to his guitar, avoiding eye contact with anyone. The room is deadly silent. He has everyone’s attention. You are certain your heartbeat is the loudest thing as you are filled with panic.
Did you hear that right?
He strums his guitar and a low and gravelly voice follows.
Love will abide
Take things in stride
He said… Tess?
Sounds like good advice
But there's no one at my side
You feel a pit in your stomach.
And time washes clean
Love's wounds unseen
He said Tess.
That's what someone told me
But I don't know what it means
'Cause I've done everything I know
To try and make you mine
The profound sadness in his voice hurts. It cuts you like a knife. His guttural but steady low singing moves you. You would never, but it makes you want to run up to him and hold him.
And I think I'm gonna love you
For a long, long time
You hate this. Being in this moment, trapped. It felt like listening to a private conversation. Still, you can’t look away.
Caught in my fears
Blinking back the tears
I can't say you hurt me
When you never let me near
The sharpness in his tone is notable and you see him clench his teeth at those words.
'Cause I've done everything I know
To try and make you mine
The pit in your stomach grows as your fears are being realized before your eyes.
And I think it's going to hurt me
For a long, long time
Joel was in love with her.
Wait for the day
You'll go away
Knowing that you warned me
Of the price I'd have to pay
You look over to where Tess was sitting earlier. She looks hurt and fragile, masked by anger. Not like anything you had seen before. You pity her. You pity yourself.
And life's full of flaws
Who knows the cause?
Living in the memory
Of a love that never was
Joel is hurting. Whatever their relationship was, he certainly wanted it to be different.
'Cause I've done everything I know
To try and change your mind
And you are just a toy for him to play with. You need to leave. You need to be anywhere but right here.
And I think I'm going to miss you
For a long, long time
Suddenly the room is spinning. You are going to be sick. The alcohol and anxiety inside you mix together and you feel like you can’t breathe.
'Cause I've done everything I know
To try and make you mine
And I think I'm gonna love you
Joel looks up and his eyes accidentally find yours for the briefest moment. An unintentional stare. He looks away and down at his guitar, no doubt outraged that you didn’t go home. That you saw him spill his heart and soul out to another woman.
For a long, long time.
Angry that you caught him cheating. The only truth you know.
The loudest silence follows as he strums the last chord. Then, the room erupts in applause and many people stand up to clap and cheer. Even the drunkest person could have watched that performance and felt his pain. You suspected few people realized it was so good because it was so honest.
Marlene looks over at you and can clearly see how ghostly and unwell you look. You shake your head and try to hold back the flood of tears welling up in your eyes.
“Can we… can we go? Please?”
“Yeah, of course.” Marlene puts an arm around you and helps you up. The tears start falling and you can’t stop it. You can’t hold back the flood of sobs and emotion leaving your body.
“Whoa… Whats wrong?” She puts her hand on your cheek and tries in vain to wipe the tears away. Looking extremely concerned and no doubt piecing things together.
You can’t even think properly. You gasp at the air to save you.
“I just need to get out of here.”
You glance up to the stage and Joel has already left it. Probably going to his lover or whatever the fuck that was all about. That sickness feeling surges back. You want to throw up. You want to disappear and erase every moment you had with Joel.
“Come on, I’ll take you home.”
To be continued...
A O 3 | M A S T E R L I S T | N O T I F I C A T I O N S
Comments / Reblogs are so incredibly appreciated 🧡
Thank you to @magpiepills for being my wonderful beta, ily 🧡
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#Joel miller#Joel miller fanfiction#Joel miller x reader#Joel miller smut#the last of us#Pedro pascal#Pedro pascal x reader#Joel miller x female reader#Joel miller x !female#pedro pascal fandom#joel miller tlou#arcanefox fics#the wolf you feed#fic: the wolf you feed#ppcu fandom#ppcu fanfiction#pedro pascal characters#Joel hole#angst
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This art had me thinking of doing a Photo Booth with Sakura for the first time.
Just thinking about Sakura, who hates having his photograph taken for anything because he remembers being a kid and having it taken for classroom attendance, so all the other kids used to make fun of his picture when it was stuck up on the wall.
There isn’t a single selfie or photograph of him on his phone, his gallery completely void of any images apart from a few photos of his omlette rice, Risa-Chan and the selfies and photos you always send him of your day or the cute things you see. He has auto-save on for everything you send.
So of course he freaks out when you ask him whether he wants to do a photobooth with you when you’re out on an arcade date, seeing the little machine in the corner as it strikes you that you still don’t have any photos with Sakura despite the fact that you’ve been dating for a lil while now.
He reluctantly agrees, but it’s only because the gruff “no” he virtually shouts at you the first time you ask makes your face drop and it hurts his chest seeing you so upset. So he’s shouldering into the tiny booth with you after, and you tell him that you’re gonna have to sit on his lap because there’s not much space in there and he’s BLUSHING.
And he has no idea how to pose or where to look as he practically glares into the lens of the first one, fighting the urge to hide his face behind you as the second flash happens just as he gets distracted by how cute you look smiling into the camera. The third photo happens just as you turn to look at him, and you catch him completely off guard in the fourth when you lean over to cup his cheek and pull him into a soft kiss.
After when the photos come out he’s looming over your shoulder to look down at the strip, not even seeing himself as he’s completely enamored by how pretty you look in every single photo. Feeling the heat flood through him again when he gets to the bottom one and sees you kissing him like that.
“Can I keep this?” He murmurs, and the sweet way he asks has butterflies tickling your chest as you smile up at him. Telling him that you can rip it in half, or do another strip if he wants.
And he’s never stuffed his hands in his pockets to fish some more coins out so fast in his life as he tosses them into the machine to do another round so you can both have a copy.
He’s more prepared for the photos this time, and he tries his best to keep his focus on the flashes but when it gets to the fourth he notices that you haven’t turned to pull him into a kiss like you did on the last one. And it makes him pout with frustration because he wants a photo like that, it was part of the reason he got back into the booth with you in the first place—
But this time he’s the one grabbing your face, his large hand grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he catches you off guard as he pulls you into a rough peck, practically smashing his lips against yours as he squeezes his eyes shut as he sees the flash blare out through his eyelids. And now it’s your turn to feel your body heat up, because Sakura has never openly showed you that much affection in such a public place.
So as you wait for the second strip to print, you’re snatching it before Sakura even has a chance— because you definitely want this one.
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The Intern Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Five minutes into an interview with you, and Bradley knew he was in trouble. You were attractive, funny and smart, and now the summer was stretching out before him like an obstacle course he would have to navigate carefully. At least a visit from an old friend should be enough to help him work through his frustrations.
Warnings: Language, mentions of smut and masturbation (eventually 18+)
Length: 4200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32
When Bradley got to the Avio headquarters the following morning, he rode the elevator up to his office. He'd already eaten breakfast, gone for a long run and taken a shower, and he was still one of the first ones here. Except for Judy. He smiled when her desk came into view as he turned toward his office door. She was sweet, and it scared him a little bit how much she reminded him of his mom. She was a widow with one son in college, and Bradley would be lost without her.
"Morning," she said, handing him his mail as he walked past without her even looking up at him. "You have a very busy day, and I already turned on your coffee maker."
He really needed to give her another raise. "Thanks, Judy. Hey, what time is that interview I have?" he asked, flipping through the stack of envelopes in his hand.
Now she looked up from her computer and met his eyes. "Nine o'clock. And it's Ted's daughter."
"I know," he replied with a small smile.
"Do you really think she would be a good fit? You'll be working on the yacht for weeks, and all she has is a graduate degree and a daddy with a bankroll." She handed him your résumé with a concerned look.
He shrugged as he skimmed the page again. "She has some related work experience. She volunteered to run the finances for a handful of Philadelphia based charities every year. Her references include the Philadelphia deputy mayor. But you're right, she's pretty green. I'll take this with me," he said as he held the résumé up and headed for his door. "Let me know when she arrives."
"Will do," Judy muttered.
Bradley made himself another cup of coffee before he settled into his seat. His office had a fantastic view of the Pacific Ocean in the distance along with the Naval base at North Island where he'd spent several years working. Sometimes he missed it, other times he didn't. Flying was in his blood, but after five air-to-air kills, it seemed like he'd given up enough of his soul to the Navy. Now he was helping oversee the design of software components that would help keep aviators safer in the air.
He turned his gaze from the view outside back to your resume. Your name at the top made him smile, and the more he read about you, the more he liked. None of the other people begging him for a job in his department had the same level of academic chops or philanthropic endeavors you did. And he couldn't imagine you begging for a single damn thing, ever. He tapped his keyboard, wondering what your LinkedIn profile looked like.
Well. Your photo was gorgeous. It was professional looking without a doubt, but he knew better now that the way your smile tilted a little higher on one side meant you were about to deliver a line that would make him laugh. He wondered if you'd had the photographer smiling nonstop, too.
Bradley paused with his fingers on his keyboard, but he couldn't help it. He typed your full name into the search bar and sorted it by images. There were more headshots of you from academic articles and a few newspapers, but when he scrolled he almost spit his coffee out. There was one of you wearing that same bikini you had on yesterday. When he clicked it for more, it took him to your private instagram page.
He stared at that tiny thumbnail before he closed his eyes. Really, the way you looked wasn't why he asked you to come here today, and he'd spent a good portion of last evening trying to focus on anything other than how it felt to have your body pressed against his while he held you.
"Fuck," he grunted. He really needed to get laid. He made another mental note next to the one about Judy's raise. He would call one of his friends with benefits and get that taken care of, because if you agreed to join him for a couple months on the company yacht, he'd probably see that bikini again and again. And there was no way he could touch Ted's daughter. Not like that. Even if he wanted to.
And that thought brought him back to the main reason you would be here in the next few minutes. What kind of information could he get out of you? Bradley noticed that the profit and loss sheets from several departments didn't seem to add up. That had been the case for two quarters in a row. When he mentioned it to one of the harried looking accountants one floor down, he told Bradley they wouldn't have time to run an unnecessary audit before next quarter started.
Someone in this company was doing something shady, and Bradley wanted to know who it was and why. He'd gone over those numbers for days, double checking his math. He knew he wasn't crazy, but he didn't know who he could safely take this information to, especially when the specs on the software they were creating was considered top secret.
"Your interview is here," Judy's voice suddenly announced through his intercom.
Bradley quickly closed out of the photo of you in a bathing suit that was still on his screen and slammed his laptop shut. "Send her in."
A few seconds later, Judy was holding the door open for you, and you thanked her as you strolled in like you owned the company. Your hair was styled in some sort of clip, and you were wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. Bradley shook his head; it was rich that you called him out for his proclivity for Armani when yours was probably worth three times as much. His gaze drifted down your legs. Your black and white heels were the kinds of things he would love to have thrown over his shoulders in bed, and the bit of white silk peeking out above your jacket buttons reminded him of your skimpy pajamas.
Inviting you here was a terrible idea.
You smirked as you ran your right index finger along the charm from Tiffany's that hung from your necklace, and then you reached out to shake his hand over his desk. "Mr. Bradshaw. So lovely to see you again today." Your voice was playful, and Bradley gestured for you to take a seat while he tried his best to gather his thoughts.
"I was a little afraid you'd show up in your bathing suit," he said, and you nodded as you crossed your legs and set your leather portfolio on your lap.
"I can certainly understand the cause for that concern," you replied, not missing a beat. "However, I promise you'll see nothing but Armani suits from here on out if I end up coming to the office every day. Now what would you have me do for you all summer? Fetch your coffee? Give you the abridged version of the Wall Street Journal? Sit in on pointless meetings in the conference room across the hallway?"
"That's just it," he said, tilting his head to the side and taking in your neutral expression. He hardly knew what to do with the fact that you made him feel warm and slightly uncomfortable when you were being sassy. "We wouldn't be here at all. And actually, you could wear your bathing suit and swim half the time for all I cared."
Your eyes lit up immediately as you leaned closer to his desk. "This sounds like a trap, but please, carry on. Tell me more."
He chuckled as he moved a little closer to you as well. "I'm being tasked with taking a few weeks to a couple months on the company yacht in the Mediterranean. I have the technical knowledge as well as the access to arrange meetings with members of Avio's European sales team to close some deals. This is all top secret information, but since you've got the right connections, I'll go ahead and tell you that the US government has given us the greenlight to sell our software to a select list of countries."
You licked your lips, and Bradley could barely focus as you said, "So you'll be the one calling all the shots. And you need to have access to some of these countries to schedule meetings and dinners and cocktail parties. You'll be working from the yacht in much the same capacity you are currently working from your office, still expected to head the research department here. But you'll have the added workload of trying to answer questions and sell the software in Europe? Did I miss anything?"
Bradley's eyes went a little wide as he chuckled. "No. Not really."
You were smiling now. "This sounds like half work and half sorority party, and let me tell you, I am more than capable of making both of those things go as smoothly for you as possible."
"Yeah," he said, his voice a little raspy now. "But you'll have to put up with me. And some of these clients have been known to be a little difficult in... a variety of different ways." Bradley's mind drifted to last summer when he'd been on the yacht for a week as well as the summer before that. The wealthier a man becomes, the more he seems to think he could have whatever he wants, and Bradley had seen some wild shit. "But I'll do my best to keep you comfortable and safe. The workload will be intense, to say the least. But it'll all be happening on a one hundred and thirty foot superyacht."
You eyed him carefully. "This sounds like it was custom made for me, so you either want me or you don't, Mr. Bradshaw."
Bradley smiled, and his gaze followed your hand as you touched that pretty charm again. "Oh... I want you plenty. Something tells me yachts and Mediterranean vacations are something you simply grew up with. I'm just trying to sell myself now."
The way you laughed reminded him once again of that night in December when you asked him if he wanted to share a bottle of wine with you. "You're very persuasive, Mr. Bradshaw. I can practically smell the sunblock and taste the pasta from here." You bit your lip and considered him, and it felt to Bradley like you could see every flaw and indiscretion inside of him. "Where did you go to school anyway? Yale? Brown? No wait... you look like a Princeton boy to me."
He shook his head as he pointed to his college diploma on the wall. "I went to a state school."
You gasped, and your eyes went wide as you muttered, "Jesus," while you read it. "Political science? At the University of Virginia? Oh... you should be lying to people. I mean, at least say you went to Dartmouth."
Bradley tried and failed to hold in his laughter, because you truly looked scandalized by this turn of events. "Aww, come on, Ivy League. It's not so bad."
You sputtered with laughter, too. "Did you just call me Ivy League?"
"I sure did," he told you, still laughing. "It's about ten times nicer than what I was going to say."
Your soft gasp as your eyes positively lit up made Bradley's heart beat a little faster. "Well, what were you going to say?" you asked before biting your lip.
Shit. You were trouble, and you knew it. "Never mind. My lips are sealed. Can't say that to Ted's daughter."
You sighed and rolled your eyes. "You're no fun right now, but I'm sure as soon as I get you loosened up in some Armani swim trunks on the yacht, you'll be an absolute pleasure for me to deal with."
The way Bradley's cock was twitching should have been warning enough. He was about to get in over his head. But all he could say was, "Does that mean you want the internship?"
Your smile tilted up a little higher on the one side. "Oh, absolutely." Then you stood before him looking like the cat who got the cream, and Bradley had to hope for the best as he stood as well. He could mark this as the first time he'd ever become slightly aroused during an interview, a sign that he desperately needed to get laid.
He shook your hand and said, "We leave in a few days. Judy will help you get your visas in order. Sound good?"
"Sounds perfect, Mr. Bradshaw."
The way you here still holding his hand and calling him Mr. Bradshaw left his voice barely louder than a rasp. "Judy and I will be in touch."
You turned and shot him a smile over your shoulder as you headed for his office door, and Bradley dropped back down in his chair. He'd call Callie about getting together to hook up before he left for Europe, but he had another more important call to make first. He cleared his throat as he opened his contacts and then put his phone on speaker. He was greeted with a familiar voice filled with laughter.
"Rooster! When are you going to get that yacht warmed up for me?"
Bradley just shook his head and said, "Hangman. You're not going to believe who my summer intern is."
------------------------------
You were floating on a raft in the pool wearing your second favorite bathing suit when you were greeted by the sound of your father's voice. "I sincerely hope you know what you're doing by wasting your time right now."
"Daddy," you greeted with a smile. "My day was a complete and utter success."
He checked his watch as he said, "Please, elaborate."
You had the trump card, but you knew all too well what it would be like if you didn't. Instead of lecturing you like you could tell he wanted to, he smiled when you said, "I have a job."
"Where?"
"Avio."
He nodded in appreciation as he said, "I am actually impressed right now. You managed to secure an internship at the company I've spent decades with, and you did so without me knowing anything about it. Which department?"
"Research and development," you replied smoothly.
His eyes went wider. "With Bradley Bradshaw?"
Your tummy swooped, and you sucked in a breath at the mere mention of his name. Spending weeks working with him and entertaining guests with him was going to be... well, something. "Yes. With Bradley Bradshaw."
"Sweetheart," your father said. "He had a career in the Navy."
"Yes. He was an aviator," you recalled from his Avio bio.
"That means he's not going to put up with any nonsense. You don't make him repeat himself, and you don't give him attitude. I'll know immediately if he's displeased with you, I'm sure."
Bradley didn't seem stuffy. He'd already encouraged you to pack your bathing suits. Hell, you were determined to get him to join you in some fun. "Well maybe not immediately as he and I will be on the Avio yacht in the Mediterranean."
Your father stared at you, speechless. Finally he said, "I really don't know how you managed to get exactly what you wanted, but I applaud you, Sweetheart. Well done. I know it sounds fun, but you'll be kept very busy. I hope you know what you're in for."
When he finally wandered back inside after you promised to join him for dinner, you soaked up the last few rays of the dying sunlight. Then you made a mental list of everything you needed to spend the next few days packing as you brushed up on your French and Italian. "J'adore mon travail. Amo il mio lavoro. I love my job."
--------------------------
Bradley was still chuckling as he got off the phone with Ted a few days later. Your father tried to warn him that you could be a bit of a handful. Like Bradley wasn't fully aware of that fact. As if he hadn't known since December. He could practically hear your disdain for his alma mater and your delight in international travel from his condo.
He was stacking his suits up in his extra bedroom along with several pairs of shoes, and he shook his head as he looked down at his swim trunks in his hands. They actually were all Armani, and you'd have a field day when you realized it. Or perhaps skinny dipping would become a thing?
Fuck. He needed to stop thinking about you like that. Callie Bassett was on her way over, so that should help alleviate some of this tension. He'd been friends with Halo for over a decade, and she had slowly and naturally turned into a friend with benefits over time. She was still in the Navy, and she was discreet. It was easier than having a girlfriend. It was all he had time for.
As he organized his suits, he remembered you told him he looked like a Princeton boy. He could just picture you with a parade of preppy assholes following you around, and he wondered if you ever slummed it with anyone like him before. It made him want to pack some of his casual clothes including his Virgina baseball cap and his worn out golf shorts. So he did.
Then his doorbell buzzed, and he went to let Callie in. He needed this taken care of right now. She smelled good, and she looked cute. She always did. And she wore something a little skimpy just for him. The kiss on his cheek in greeting quickly turned to her lips brushing his as she said, "I haven't seen you in weeks."
"Been busy," he replied, taking her by the hand and heading for his bedroom. "And I'm leaving for Portugal on Saturday."
"How long?" she asked, pouting a little bit as Bradley reached for the hem of her dress and eased it up and over her head in one fluid motion.
"Couple months," he whispered, taking in her soft, naked body with his gaze.
"Months?" she whined as he wrapped his hands around her waist and smirked at her.
"Don't even act like we are anything close to exclusive, Cal. Now... how do you want it?"
She licked her lips and looked up at him with those familiar dark eyes just as his phone rang in his pocket. He didn't hesitate or check the number; he never did. "Bradshaw."
"Hey, State School. I have a few questions for you."
Bradley froze with your voice in his ear and Callie's fingers on his zipper. He grunted softly as she eased it down and touched him. He just knew if he closed his eyes and listened to your voice, he'd probably finish in her hand within two minutes.
"Ivy League," he rasped, taking a step back away from Halo who was now standing before him completely naked and rolling her eyes.
"Are you busy?" you asked, and Bradley looked Halo in the eyes without remorse as he answered you.
"No. I'm not busy. I can talk." He held up one finger and zipped himself up as he left his bedroom in favor of his office. "As long as you tell me how you got this number."
You laughed as he sank down into his desk chair. "You think it's exclusive or something? Judy gave it to me. And it's probably listed on the company website."
Brat. He narrowed his eyes, adding a note to his mental list to make sure it was not listed on the company website. "What can I help you with?"
"Well, I'm packing and hoping for a little input from you."
"On Thursday night at nine?" he asked. "And don't you have a butler to help you with that?"
"Like you have anything else going on?"
Bradley thought about Callie waiting in his bedroom, but instead of ushering this call along, he asked, "What did you pack so far?"
You sighed. "Sixteen bathing suits, piles of lingerie, and sunglasses. And I'm only kind of kidding."
Fighting the urge to ask for more details, he said, "Unfortunately I can't let you wear any of that in front of potential clients. So throw in some suits and dresses."
"Some suits and dresses? You'll need to be a little bit more specific, Sir."
Sir.
That one word was echoing through his mind along with your bratty tone, and he had to take a deep breath. "Why don't you bring the suit you wore when I interviewed you? That looked good. And so did the dress you wore to your father's holiday party. The dark green one."
There was a pause before you said, "You remember what I wore to the party?"
"Yeah," he grunted, rubbing his hand over his face in frustration. "It looked nice. Pack some cocktail dresses, too."
"How many should I pack?"
"How many do you have?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?"
Bradley laughed. "I'm sure you know better than I do what you should wear."
You scoffed. "You're acting like you've never spent a summer on the Avio yacht before."
"I haven't," he replied easily. "Just a few days here and there. I'm sure I'll be learning things from you."
"Then you'll be learning from the best."
He bit back a groan as he said, "That's what I'm counting on. That's why I hired you."
"I won't let you down," you promised, and Bradley believed you. "I'll see you at the airport on Saturday morning. Don't forget your swim trunks."
You ended the call before he could say another word, and now he was convinced you had called him simply because you could. If he was frustrated before, it was nothing compared to the way he felt now. Spending weeks on end with Ted's daughter was supposed to help him get to the bottom of the messy business with Avio, not cause other issues to arise.
He unzipped his pants, intent on touching himself, before jolting to his feet. "Shit," he muttered as he left his office and went back to his bedroom. "Cal?" he called out. "Sorry. It was a work call." But he was completely alone. He laughed as his phone vibrated in his hand with a text from her.
Have a great time in Europe. Don't bother calling me when you get back.
Bradley was sure he'd hear about this from his old friend Natasha when Callie bitched about him at work. But it didn't really matter. After she had a few weeks to cool off, she'd come back when he needed her again. For now, he'd take matters into his own hands and hope that would be enough.
----------------------
Your father insisted upon seeing you off on Saturday morning which gave Bradley a few minutes alone with him. He was listening to Ted as he watched you struggle with your seven pieces of Dior luggage on the tarmac next to the chartered airplane.
"Bradley, you don't know what you've gotten yourself into," your father told him with a laugh. "She's tenacious though. And whip smart. Make sure you challenge her, because she will certainly challenge you."
Now Bradley laughed as he shook Ted's hand. "I'll do my best."
"If she gets to be too much, just leave her in one of the marinas with her passport."
He would never do that to you. He doubted it would ever come to that. In fact, he was already impressed by the way you took care of things for yourself. Sure, you looked like you belonged in an ad for designer gym clothes with your leggings and soft hoodie zipped over your sports bra. But you were also taking your luggage from the back of the black Mercedes-Benz G-Class yourself.
"I can assure you that she and I will be just fine, Sir."
"What have I told you about calling me Ted?" Bradley received a friendly cuff on the shoulder before shaking his hand and turning toward you.
He picked up the last two pieces of your luggage at the same time and carried them to the cargo hold while you trailed after him. "I don't need help," you told him as he stowed them away. Then you added, "You look weird out of your Armani."
"I look weird?" he asked with a laugh as he glanced down at his chinos and Oxford shirt.
"A good kind of weird. Like when you wore that Fair Isle sweater last year."
Bradley examined your pretty face, and you didn't look away. He remembered the dress you wore to Ted's holiday party, and you remembered his sweater. Right now he was wishing he'd joined you for that bottle of French wine that night, something he'd remedy on the yacht. A flood of bad decisions just waiting to happen filled his mind as he said, "Go say goodbye to your father. It's almost time to go."
"Yes, Sir," you told him with your chin held high and a smirk gracing your lips. Bradley stood at the bottom of the stairs while you flung your arms around Ted and kissed him on the cheek. Then you came strolling his way once again, and he followed you closely up the stairs as you turned back and softly said, "I'm all yours."
--------------------------
Ivy League spells trouble for Bradley, but at least he knows it. And he didn't get an ounce of relief before getting on that plane. What could possibly go wrong? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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THE SPECIAL SHACKLE-SHUFFLE IN PRISON STRIPES (PART II)
A new prisoner who is placed in full restraints for the first time in a way has to learn to walk again, because he is not yet used to wearing leg irons. And walking in leg-irons isn’t easy, regardless of the length of the connecting chain. You have to get used to that. This results in the famous shackle shuffle, which can be admired in many video clips. About that special kind of shackle-enforced shuffling I will talk in this blog another time. In this episode I would like to briefly focus on an aspect that mostly receives less attention. That is the rest of the prisoner's body position, as a result of being forced to wear the special leather restraining-belt with handcuffs.
Take a good look at this photo; I give a detail-view of it below. If you look closely, you will first see that the inmate, already clad in prison stripes, has slumped shoulders and holds his handcuffed hands in the middle of his crotch. That is of course a rather unnatural position, but the cuffs leave him no choice. Thanks to being attached to the belt, his hands not only pull his arms tightly down, but also tightly inwards, where you would normally let them hang relaxed at the side. You can of course hold them up, but that quickly becomes quite tiring. Especially those with relatively short arms have little room for maneuver, their arms will be just stretched from shoulders to belt.
Holding the hands far forward is also not possible due to the D-Ring. You perhaps can bend them a little forward on both its sides until the chain is taut against the arch of the D, but you can't keep that up indefinitely either. Result: you quickly just let them hang down.
However, in that case they will constantly press against your crotch and rub with every footstep. To avoid that, as this can quickly become irritating, you unconsciously adjust your posture. You pull in your stomach to make a bit room for your cuffed hands and you also bend your upper body slightly forward to make even more room below, and therefore you automatically stick your butt out back.
That is what you can see in this photo: as a result of the full restraints, the prisoner walks slightly bent forward all the time, and therefore automatically with his butt clearly pushed back and up. That is a very humiliating position to have to move around in or to enter the courthouse, especially if there are also many spectators or even photographers from the press present during such a prep walk to capture your arrival. Such a constantly visibly raised butt then gives you an extra feeling of great vulnerability, because in that case it is inevitably captured forever for a large audience in their pics too.
The leg-irons obviously will make that gait even more uncomfortable for the prisoner, as they force him to take careful steps and often look at the ground, which of course causes his butt to stick out in this humiliating way even further.
If you pay attention, you can also see it in many other prisoners walking in full restraints, this position that expresses powerlessness: the stomach drawn in, the upper body leaning slightly forward, the butt back and up. Sometimes more, sometimes less - a prisoner will always try to minimize the attention his bottom might attract, but the discomfort of his restraints often leaves him little choice. Here are a few examples, with the same psychologically uncomfortable body position as that of our main hero.
In the pic above, the protruding butt is somewhat hidden by the swinging end of the belt, but you can see from the prisoner's body position that all in all it is sticking out considerably. The triptych of the next photo is actually even more telling. Right from the front, in the right photo, at first sight nothing seems to be 'wrong'.
But in the middle photo, straight from the side, where the shackled inmate is taking long strides (the chain between his ankle cuffs is stretched to its maximum length), you can see, as a result of the tight fastening of the belt, a slightly rounded upper back above that, and below that the prominent arched bulge of his protruding buttocks. The jumpsuit accentuates that extra. The buttocks also look good in the photo on the left, from the back.
When wearing this kind of restraint-belt, the tendency to raise the butt is probably stronger in average than when wearing a belly chain, because the latter allows just a little more freedom of movement. As a rule, it is easier to slide it up a little further, unless it’s applied in an idiotic tight way, but then it will pinch you, and carrying it thus can become very painful and even unhealthy.
That risk is much lower with such a leather belt. It quickly becomes stuck. It can actually always be quite tight without causing any danger, and if it is placed exactly at the narrowest zone of the waist as tight as possible, it is virtually immobile due to its width.
This tightly applied belt also contributes to accentuating the inmates bum itself, because it firmly constricts the prisoner's abdomen and back from all sides. Due to that pressure, it forces the wearer to both hold in his stomach and arch his back slightly, and thus it creates automatically a concave lower back directly above the buttocks, thanks to which the already prominently protruding butt is even further accentuated. In most cases it therefore will be very difficult, or at least fatiguing, for an inmate shackled like this to prevent his bum from extending backward and upward.
You can also study that effect very well in this group photo - all four inmates of course wearing the same prison uniform (a black-and-white striped two-piece, with open plastic sandals, although not all in the same color!), and restrained in the same way , including leg-irons (recognizable in case of the second man from the right).
The enforced protruding butt is clearly visible on the leftmost prisoner, who looks back. The belt with the cuffs clearly pulls in his stomach. His shirt hides the effect a little, because it naturally stands out a bit wider, thereby partly concealing the butt part of the trousers that protrudes towards the back. If he would wear a jumpsuit, his literally outstanding butt would come in full view.
The second guy stands almost still, then it is easier to keep your back straight again. The third struggles to take the step up, and holds his hands very convulsively against his chest, as if he indeed wants to hold his butt at all costs, with that bloody photographer nearby. The fourth also just steps up, automatically straightening his back slightly.
The effect is also visible in this video-clip, during the regrettably rather short moments the inmate going to court is shown from the side. You can see his buttocks moving in a slightly unnatural position.
As mentioned: whether or not there is an effect probably depends largely on the arm length - and possibly also on the prisoner's own choice: to tolerate the discomfort of hands pressing against the crotch rather than the humiliating position of the helplessly pronounced buttocks raised up.
Here is a tableau of a whole series of prisoners who have all been strapped with the belt and the handcuffs. They all struggle with the question of what the best posture is. As a result, they all walk slightly differently than they would without the belt, with their butts further back - some more, some less. Some inmates are better at preventing this than others.
The two outer prisoners in the bottom row, seen from the front, are clearly making an effort to suppress the natural tendency to just stick their butts out in this situation. The two next to it, on either side of the large square detail shot in the middle, are equipped with a belly chain instead of a belt; for them the effect is less strong, but still present.
However in the case of the inmate on the pic we started with, that ass must really stick out very, very humiliatingly far to the rear. Comparing his posture to that of many others, in his case it must result in an extra pronounced upward standing bum. He struggles more than the others with finding the least awkward and embarrassing position while walking. In the photo at the top right, he has just gotten off the car and is still trying to walk upright and not give in to the natural tendency to bend over because of the belt. Walking like that isn't easy, as his concentrated, pained look shows. In the photo above left he therefore actually lets it all go, and his butt promptly shoots back and up.
At the same time he still seems to be trying frantically to suppress this with all force while climbing the steps - his gaze is still very tense - because such an emphatic presentation of your bottom in the context of the homosocial environment of a male prison quickly has a connotation of sexual submissiveness and sexual availability. His deeply felt degrading posture, and this is rather exceptional, for that reason is even noticeable from the front.
Finally: have a look again on the clip i gave a link to at the last entry ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9vzE4JSmzLw) . Between 6:00 and 6:15 you see the inmate entering court from the side (see the technically bad, but clear video-still inserted here). This makes his buttocks stand out well - and because his upper body has been pulled forward by the belt and handcuffs, it is now clearly visible how he cannot prevent them from protruding very vulnerable far back, and how he is forced to emphatically present them in this humiliating situation to the already waiting photographer.
To be continued......
#prisoner#jail#inmate#prison uniform#shackles#prison#handcuffs#handcuffed inmate#prison stripes#full restraints#shackled walk#shackled#shackle shuffle#leg irons#waist belt
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In the Spotlight | idol!Mingyu x model!reader | Fluff
The sharp click of a camera shutter echoed through the studio, punctuating the steady rhythm of movements on set. The air buzzed with anticipation as stylists and assistants fluttered around, adjusting lighting and perfecting details. Y/N stood in front of the mirror, nervously tugging at the hem of her fitted Calvin Klein denim jacket. This was her first major campaign as a model—a dream opportunity for a newcomer like her.
It was also her first time in Seoul. As a foreigner, she was still adjusting to the bustling city, its fast-paced energy, and the language barrier. Just a few weeks ago, she had been offered a modeling contract that would keep her in Korea for several months. The opportunity was incredible, but the pressure of being in an unfamiliar place and having to prove herself in a competitive industry weighed heavily on her.
Adding to her nerves was the fact that her partner for this shoot was none other than Kim Mingyu of SEVENTEEN. A name she’d heard countless times since arriving in Korea. Seeing him in person was something else entirely. Mingyu radiated a natural charisma that made everyone around him seem a little more at ease. For Y/N, though, being paired with such a seasoned professional only amplified her anxiety.
Mingyu had arrived at the studio earlier, casually greeting the crew with his easygoing charm. Now, he was leaning against a clothing rack, scrolling through his phone while waiting for the shoot to begin.
“First time in Seoul?” a deep voice broke through her thoughts.
Startled, Y/N turned to find Mingyu standing beside her. His towering frame and warm smile were even more disarming up close.
“Uh, yeah,” she admitted, her cheeks warming. “First time.”
“Well,” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the counter, “what do you think so far?”
“It’s amazing,” she said. “But… it’s also a lot. Everything moves so fast here. And I’m still trying to pick up the language.”
Mingyu nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, I can imagine it’s tough. But don’t worry you’ll find your footing. And if you need someone to practice Korean with, I’m happy to help.”
Y/N blinked in surprise. “Really?”
“Of course,” he said with an easy grin. “It’ll make your time here way easier. Plus, I’m a pretty good teacher.”
She laughed nervously, already feeling a little less intimidated by him. “I might take you up on that.”
“Good,” Mingyu said. “And don’t stress too much about today. You’ve got this.”
————————————————————————————
The shoot began in earnest not long after. Y/N started with solo shots, her nerves gradually subsiding as she found her rhythm under the photographer’s direction. But when it came time for the paired photos, Mingyu joined her on set, and suddenly, her confidence wavered.
“Alright, Mingyu, Y/N,” the photographer called out, clapping his hands. “I want something natural. Playful, but intimate. Let’s see some real connection here.”
Mingyu turned to her with a reassuring smile. “Just follow my lead. We’ll make it work.”
The first pose had Y/N leaning against Mingyu’s chest, his arm draped casually around her shoulders. She tried to focus on the camera, but the warmth radiating from him and the scent of his cologne were hard to ignore.
“Perfect,” the photographer encouraged. “Now, Mingyu, lean in a little closer, like you’re sharing a secret.”
Mingyu obliged, lowering his face until his lips were just inches from Y/N’s ear. She could feel his breath as he murmured, “Relax. You’re doing great.”
Despite herself, Y/N giggled softly, and the photographer immediately captured the moment.
“That’s it!” he exclaimed. “Exactly what we need!”
Mingyu winked at her, clearly pleased with himself. “See? I told you I’d make this easy for you.”
By the end of the shoot, Y/N was exhausted but exhilarated. She had survived her first big campaign and doing so alongside someone like Mingyu felt like an achievement in itself.
“Great job today,” Mingyu said as they packed up, handing her a water bottle. “You were amazing out there.”
“Thanks,” she said, smiling shyly. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”
He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “I try.”
As the crew began to disperse, Mingyu hesitated before speaking again. “So… since you’re staying in Seoul for a while, have you had a chance to explore yet?”
Y/N shook her head. “Not really. I’ve been so busy with work that I haven’t had time.”
“Well,” he said, his grin widening, “if you’re not too tired, I could show you around tonight. You can’t come all this way and not see the city.”
Y/N blinked, surprised by the offer. “Are you sure? Don’t you have other things to do?”
“Not tonight,” he said casually. “And trust me, I know all the best spots. Plus, it’ll give us a chance to work on your Korean.”
She hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Alright. Lead the way.”
————————————————————————————
An hour later, Y/N found herself strolling through the bustling streets of Hongdae with Mingyu by her side. The neighborhood was alive with energy—street performers drew crowds, vendors sold sizzling snacks, and neon signs lit up the night sky.
“This is incredible,” she said, her eyes wide as she took in the sights and sounds.
“It’s one of my favorite places,” Mingyu admitted. “You can find just about anything here—good food, live music, art. The vibe is unbeatable.”
They stopped at a street food stall, where Mingyu ordered two skewers of tteokbokki. He handed one to Y/N, watching her face as she took her first bite.
“Oh my god,” she said, her eyes lighting up. “This is amazing.”
“Told you,” he said with a grin. “Street food in Korea is undefeated.”
As they wandered through the lively streets, their conversation flowed easily. Mingyu pointed out his favorite cafes and shops, while Y/N shared her experiences as a foreigner trying to adapt to life in Seoul.
“It’s been a little overwhelming,” she admitted as they sat on a bench overlooking the Han River. The city lights shimmered on the water, casting a serene glow. “But I’m really grateful for the opportunity. Even if it’s hard sometimes.”
“You’ll get there,” Mingyu said confidently. “It’s just a matter of time. And like I said if you need help with Korean, I’m just a text away.”
She smiled, feeling genuinely at ease. “Thanks, Mingyu. That means a lot.”
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the distant hum of the city blending with the sound of the river. For the first time since arriving in Korea, Y/N felt like she belonged.
————————————————————————————
As the night came to an end, Mingyu walked her back to her hotel. They stopped in front of the entrance, the soft glow of the streetlights casting shadows on his face.
“Thanks for tonight,” Y/N said sincerely. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget this.”
“Me neither,” Mingyu replied with a warm smile. “I’m glad I got to show you around.”
There was a brief pause before he added, “Next time, I’ll take you to even better places. And maybe we can squeeze in a Korean lesson or two.”
Y/N laughed, her cheeks flushing. “I’ll hold you to that.”
As she stepped inside, she glanced back to see Mingyu still standing there, his hands in his pockets and a small smile on his lips.
And in that moment, she couldn’t help but feel that her first trip to Seoul and her new life as a model was only the beginning of something unforgettable.
————————————————————————————
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Okay I have been watching a lot of detective movies or like those 80s movies with a badass female protagonist and just…
Yandere!Hal Jordan (Green Lantern) with a Detective!Darling. Cause space cop and real cop, see where I’m going with this?
Like maybe in an AU where all the Justice League has darlings of their own and one of them is kidnapped taken for their own protection and she begins looking into it…
And then there is an another disappearance…
Another missing person….
And another…
And another…
And clues begin to pop up…
Skid marks near the scene that no car could ever make…
Slight dents as if made by a knife or an arrow…
A knocked over flower box on a open window of a an apartment that was on the tenth floor, the apartment was locked making so this was the only place the missing person could have been taken out of…
It is at a press conference after a mass indecent that Hal finally meets his darling. He is getting slightly jealous that most of the League has a darling and he is alone and…
“Excuse me, I have a question…”
A beautiful woman stands up, not seeming as eggar as most of the reporters there and as soon as she gets the go ahead to ask she straight up walks to them and slams down a folder of photographic evidence from the crime scenes, including photos the Justice League recognizes as their darlings…
“…Well I have a few questions.”
The press conference ends rather abruptly and obviously the League has to have a talk about her, because she is a problem and could potentially…
Everything that is said goes in one ear and out the other, Hal is just staring at these images of his women who made half the Justice League go pale faced when she revealed that she was onto them in less than ten words and a handful of photographs.
God she was beautiful, and he was completely smitten.
The next time they meet is when she is leaving the police headquarters and she just happens to run into a man wearing an Air Force jacket. He helps her pick up the stuff she dropped and apologizes for running into her and introduces himself as Hal Jordan and maybe hitting on her a bit. She had to go so she can make it in time for a meeting she has with the state commissioner and some old partners she has worked with on cases before investigating the disappearances, but hey Hal gave her his number so she can call sometime when she free, but she tells him that won’t be for awhile cause of these damn disappearance cases.
But of course sometimes people do somethings they should not…
She calls, they talk, talking turns into a date, which turns into multiple dates, then cuddling up in her apartment while she reviews evidence for her cases while holds her from behind and nuzzles against her…
“Babe… cmon and take a break every once in a while.”
“I can’t right now, Hal. I have to finish this report tonight, I have a flight tomorrow to DC for a meeting about another incident, and don’t worry it’s not about the disappearances, it’s a murder, they thought I could use a break… but in all honesty it just makes me want to focus on my other cases more.”
“Maybe don’t kill the mood tonight, take a break and we could have a little fun before you leave, what about it?”
“When I get back… I just need to focus now, Hal. People need me, just another part of this job. I promise I’ll make time for us when I get back.”
“Just take care of yourself, I don’t want you dying on me now.”
“I will.”
She lied…
It’s late a few nights later when Hal gets a call from an unknown number, it is when he is at a Justice League meeting as Green Lantern and sure he does get scolded for having his phone but…
“Am I speaking to Hal Jordan? You were marked as an emergency contact.”
“Yes, who for?”
“Your girlfriend we think, she was brought in unconscious, stab wound in her lower back and severe damage to her spine.”
“What does that mean?”
“She will be paralyzed when she wakes up… her boss said she will be laid off when she wakes up, at least from field work.”
When the phone call ends Hal has to sit down and Clark is the first to speak up to him, which is fitting in a way because Clark was certainly one of the first to protect his darling because he could not help but see her as vulnerable to the threats of the world and almost the entire Justice League agrees with him when he tells him…
“Take care of her, she needs you right now.”
Hal is at the hospital not even an hour after he got the call, sitting by her bedside until she wakes up and it is time for him to take her back home, but things cannot go back to normal again, it is the mental pain she has to live with that she struggles with most.
Those disappearances, it was her job to find them and she failed them.
Hal tries to take her mind off of things, spending time off of his civilian work to look after her. He takes her into his place and sure he has to lie to her because he has work as a Green Lantern to do but he is so caught up what is happening in the moment that he forgets she was once a detective…
It is late one night when he returns home, mildly injured and…
“You lied to me, Hal…”
She is there in there apartment in her wheelchair, looking angry beyond compare, she looks up to him and then down to his ring…
“…I should have noticed sooner, the way you just conveniently showed up after that press conference with the Justice League… giving me your number for what? Did you seriously just do this all to get me distracted or what?”
“What?! No! Never… I…”
“I called my old partner from the force, I’ll be moving in with her for a while until I’m ready to take a job teaching at… well at the FBI Academy… don’t bother trying to contact me again, Green Lantern.”
She is about to roll past him, but he grabs her wheelchair and stops her. He brings her back into their apartment, and he kneels down onto her level, taking his hands in his own.
“I can’t let you back out there, you nearly got yourself killed… I love you… I am going to protect you no matter what, even if you don’t want me to.”
“…I was right… wasn’t I?”
“Babe-“
“Answer me, Hal!”
“…You were right, but it was for the best-“
“Those were people’s lives! It was not for the best, they all were scared to let go of something that was not even theirs to begin with-“
“They were in danger, it’s to protect them.”
“Then where was the Green Lantern when I was in danger? Where were you, Hal?”
“I can’t change the past, but I’m going to keep you safe now and I’m not gonna let to get hurt again.”
#yandere dc#yandere green lantern#yandere hal jordan#yandere#yandere green lantern x reader#yandere hal jordan x reader#yandere core#yanderecore#yandere aesthetic#yandere justice league#yandere dc x reader#Yandere justice league x reader#Yandere dc
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photographer!bf sunghoon who’s obsessed with taking photos of you.
he loves capturing your face at different angles; he finds your eyes the prettiest when the sunlight is on them, he finds your cheeks the cutest when they are squished between his palms, he finds your nose the most adorable when it is scrunched up, and he finds your lips the most beautiful when they are swollen and red and glossy and puckered up at him.
but you know the photos he takes and hides from everyone else are his favorites— the ones of you naked in bed, his hands roaming your body. he loves those, the ones he can barely show anyone. he can look at those photos all day, zooming in on your nipples and the curve of your waist and your inner thighs and how they are wet just for him.
he can’t resist taking photos of you with his cum dripping down your chin and splattered on your tummy. he loves capturing the marks on your neck that he had left behind, your pussy filled with his cum, your lipstick smeared all over your face and the tears in your eyes once he’s done with you. he likes taking photos of the after-sex bliss: your eyes half-lidded as you smile at him, your legs splayed out, your hair messy, and your whole body bare for him to see and admire.
he always asks for permission first, of course, and you always say yes. and when you do, you make sure to put on a show for him.
arching your back and pushing your tits together, letting out soft, sweet moans, and spreading your legs, you make him go crazy, and he has to force himself not to touch you because he wants to focus on taking photos of you like that.
he takes photos from every angle, too. he wants to remember how good you look from the front, the side, the back, the bottom, and the top. he wants to be able to look at these photos later on and remember how pretty you looked for him.
you can see his cock straining through his sweatpants as he takes the photos, but you pretend not to notice, wanting him to take as many as he wants. and even if you really want him to touch you and fuck you already, you let him take his time.
but it doesn’t take you long to get antsy and whiny and start begging him to just give you something, anything.
and you know how much he loves when you beg, so you start off softly, whispering, "please, please, i need you. can i have something? anything?"
but when you hear the clicking of his camera getting louder and faster, you know he is only enjoying the sight of you, so you start asking for more and more and more.
you beg and beg and beg, your voice getting louder, and you finally get his attention.
you smile up at him innocently and spread your legs open wider, and he takes photos of your pussy. you look up at the camera through your lashes as you slowly let your fingers trail down your tummy to your pussy, gathering up the slick to show the camera just how wet your are. you can see the way his fingers tighten around the camera. you can see the way his cock twitches at the sight of you.
finally, he can't help himself any longer and throws his camera aside and goes to you, pulling down his pants and underwear before crawling on top of you.
"fuck you’re so pretty," he says as he leans down to kiss you, "i could stare at you forever, baby. my pretty baby, you’re mine.”
#enhypen hard hours#enhypen hard thoughts#sunghoon hard hours#sunghoon hard thoughts#enhypen smut#sunghoon smut#sunghoon brainrot 😮💨
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Portrait Photography headcanons
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Kid, Nami, Perona
total wc: 1600(ish)
Mainly fem reader, Its gender neutral in reality buuut i dislike the idea of men reading this.... (photography opinions let me know if you want to hear me yap about it)
Luffy:
•as soon as he finds out ur a photographer he begs to see your work, if it’s printed he’ll prob ask for a copy (i just see him as a collector!)
• won’t ask you to take pics of him but one day he’s messing around on the deck of the sunny and ussop brings out water balloons
• seeing him slightly wet, and running around with no shirt on… motivated you.
• you take a couple shots and look, immediately realizing you need to print some!
• the photos show off his physique, not too big but definitely toned. His hair is wet and sticks to his head a little, plus he has a small sunburn coming on, giving him a natural blush. He’s sporting a cocky smile that only comes on when he’s being competitive, and he looks handsome enough to kill.
• zoro is interested in the print (i know what you are zoro) buuut luffy wants nothing to do with pictures of himself.
Zoro:
•HATES being on camera
• he will always be sleeping in any shots you get of him. Unfortunate but it is what it is
• he thinks you look great while taking photos though, and will watch you watch others.
• he admires the focus you have, but also loves to test it. Calling your name when he sees you take your final action before the shot, scaring you when you are looking through your viewfinder, covering the lens of your camera… he’ll mess with you endlessly
• everytime you catch him, you of course get mad and he just laughs (bring back zoro laughing) and walks away from you.
• but to get back at him, you snap a few photos of his back as he walks away..
• and wow does that man have a back, the muscles are so toned and big that you can see each one clearly through his shirt, dabs of sweat rest on his neck, where his tanned skin looks like it is glowing. Thankfully you used the right exposure to capture the details in his arms as well, with tiny scars dotting his skin like freckles. He’s looking to the side, with a beer bottle in hand. It’s just enough that you can see his profile, but not his entire face. The bottle is straight up in the sky as liquid is held in place (in the photo) against his lips… it’s definitely a picture you would keep just for you.
• zoro discovers a print and slices it 20 ways before discarding it into the sea. He doesn’t realize that you have more copies, and digital back ups :)
Sanji:
•he would def object to you taking any photo of him, arguing that you should be photographed instead
• silly boy abt seeing his pics
• ofc would love and support you
• would ask to be taught how to take pictures good so he could take them of you instead
• but he wouldn’t mind seeing like action shots of himself cooking
• hed prob be like “this is how you see me Cherie?” Jaw dropped maybe
• I think he might get an ego about it if zoro was in the room….
• once again they would be action shots of him cooking, closeups on his hands cutting things or seasoning meat perchance..
• he’d always look focused and his cigarette smoke would reaaaally set the mood of the collection I think
• the final photo (of like the session of collection of them) would HAVE to be the final plating of the dish.
• side note sanji would absolutely relate to you, creating things is human nature and (if you were a photographer) he would relate to that soooo much, taking things that exist already and making them more beautiful or enhanced and possibly an experience is something he understands I think….
Law:
•BIGGEST HATER
•he would blush and shy away from the camera
• prob get angry as well
• he would always be behind you when the camera is out, like DEtermined to not be in any shots
• I think it comes from, perchance, a fear of being perceived? Like he feels like he doesn’t deserve to be around so he tries to avoid any proof of it maybe (pls kill me if you disagree)
• he would compliment your work very technically, for instance “you picked the perfect exposure for this shot” and whatnot
• I think he’d try to be objective about it all
• the vibe of photography for documentation rather than photography purely as an art form
• but I think he would show you the photos in his medical books, of like diseases and cells and bodies, and ask you what you thought
•kinda a means of learning about why you like photography, but also because it’s actually changing the way he thinks about even the most basic of pictures he sees
• obvi eventually you would sneak a couple of photos of him, while he would clean his figures or coins, whenever he was distracted pretty much
• the first time, you told him right away and asked if he wanted them to be deleted. But when he saw the faces you had captured his brain like clicked in place
• hed look focused, with a slight smile and soft ish eyes, his hair fell in the perfect way somehow and you truly thought he was the most handsome guy on the planet
• the photos would have an air of “crazy man surrounded by silly things” (pls ignore this if it sound crazy I have such a specific vision in my head)
• I think he wouldn’t react, at first, but later he’d look at them again and slowly understand how you saw him, and how it wasn’t a crime to just exist with the things and ppl he liked
Kid:
•he would force you to take pictures of him.
• like genuinely force… he would touch up his own makeup, pick out a wardrobe, give you notes on the vibe and lighting he wanted, it would be a full week of work
• I just know he isn’t shy in any way and would keep copies hanging on the wall, they came out great so you would keep a smaller version in your wallet (hehe)
• he would Not let you take all of the credit (def would tell people it was all his idea)
• I think he’d try to sell them somewhere, but the price would be too high and no one would buy them
• at the end of the day he cherished them so much bc it was an excuse to hang out with you and flirt and stuff, not that he would need an excuse to do it
• he also would love to see you working the camera and any lighting apparatus, reminding him of you drooling over him while he would work on his stuff
• now he gets to drool over you :D
Nami:
•the camera LOVES her
• in this fake world you took her bounty picture, and you and her made them into cards to sell (like you would for an idol or whatnot)
• she loves having intimate moments with you though, and those photos would NEVER see the outside of her room.
• they are kept under lock and key so none of the gross boys will see them, it’s just for you and Nami to love and appreciate eachother
• I think she would force you to let her take shots of you, with her being so beautiful it was easy for you to self deprecate, and she wanted to hear no more of it
• she would prove to you how beautiful you were, getting all the right angles and lighting
• seeing the pics she would take of you def would change ur mind about yourself, if Nami, BEAUTIFUL Nami could see you in that way how could you not?
• I think beyond that the two of you would take pics of the guys on the ship doing stupid stuff, like luffy hitting zoro on accident or something
• you two would share in those moments, glances, touches, laughter, you and Nami were meant to last
Perona:
•she would love taking pics of you, with you, and you taking pics of her? She would love every bit of it
• she would get annoyed if you invited anyone else to the two of y’all’s sessions, even if she knew it was just friendly
• I think she would get jealous if you took pictures of other people, turning into her whiny mode if you did
• she would strive to be your muse, wearing creative outfits and doing her hair and makeup in fun and pretty ways to catch your attention
• ofc it would work everytime, and you would go running to her
• Perona always looked amazing in pictures (and she would LOVE when you include her ghosts) so you always wanted to take pics of her
• I think the relationship between you two would grow a bit like artist obsessed and muse… I feel like she’s kinda crazy and would like lowkey manipulate you into it? But I mean I believe reader is smart enough to be aware of it but choose to play into it
• she would show off to zoro and mihawk, something something “I have a relationship and you two aren’t even close to getting one” followed by her cute ass laugh
(THANK YOU SO MUCH @head-empty-just-ace YOU SAVED ME)
#law x reader#zoro x reader#luffy x reader#sanji x reader#kid x reader#trafalgar law x reader#eustass kid x reader#nami x reader#perona x reader#op reader insert#op headcanons#one piece x reader#op x reader#thank you very much for the inspo#sorry if this sucks#i literally wrote it for myself and myself only#i enjoy it heheheheh#also my first time doing headcanons so let me know if i missed the mark..... barely any clue what im doing#also my photo#what i would imagine the vibe of sanjis would be kinda#also MAYBE some of laws#silohuette vibe forsure on zoro#if anyone cares ...#minolta 35mm#kodak portra 400#i think..... it might have been cinestill something...
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dk - retirement
word count : 840
-
"y/n!" seokmin shouts and runs over to you. with your trophy by your feet, you open your arms and practically jump into his. "you did so amazing out there, baby," he says to you and pecks your lips.
"thanks," you reply with a smile. "did you get some good shots?" you ask.
"yea. gonna have a lot of editing to do, but it'll be alright," he says to you and puts you on the ground.
you look around and notice someone looking at you. it looks like they're trying to get your attention so you can be interviewed.
"i think i gotta go, babe," you say to him.
"hm? oh," seokmin nods, "go. i'm going to get some more shots."
you go over to an area to be interviewed and people are almost swarming you. some security guards have to settle everyone down before you can be interviewed.
"y/n! how does it feel to have won your last race?"
"people say your performance when you were in monaco was better. any comments?"
"y/n, why did you decide to retire?"
you take a deep breath in before speaking. "today's race was an honor to be a part of. despite the difficulty, i think all of the participants showed themselves today," you speak in front of many mic packs that are being held by reporters. "the decision to retire wasn't an easy one, but today's race was my last race as a professional. i have been honored with being one of the many professionals in this field, and i can't wait to see what the future has to bring for the future for me as well as others."
more questions start being thrown out, and you answer them as you can. the questions start to focus on about your retirement, but you don't mind. the news was slowly let public because of how well liked you are.
when you're done getting interviewed, you meet with your crew.
"dinner on me, alright?" you say to them, "and you guys gotta meet the kid."
"chan, right?" one of your crew asks. "think he can keep up?"
you grin, "just because i'm not driving doesn't mean i'll be gone. i'll make sure he gets everything straight."
"you don't need to help us, y/n. we got everything," another crew member says to you while some of them pack up stuff.
"you sure?" you ask.
"yea, don't worry about it," they reply.
"thanks."
you look around and find seokmin taking photos in the press area. you don't want to bother him yet since he needs to get his photos, so you go to another area and change out of your suit. when you're done changing, you pack up your backpack and sit in a room where a few of the racers are.
you're pretty friendly with most of them, but you didn't feel like talking to them right now. honestly, you're getting pretty sad since everything's over. your career that you started off years ago is now over. however, you know you won't be away from the races. maybe you'll end up being a commentator once in a while.
but for now, you'll live your life.
—
"baby?"
you look up and see seokmin walking in with his backpack on. it looks like he's done working for the day since his camera isn't out.
"you okay?" he asks when he walks over to you.
you nod, "yea. just a little sad," you reply.
"i bet," he replies and kisses your forehead. "you know, we'll probably be back here to watch a race in a few months," he says, "and you can just take mingyu's car for a little joyride on the course when we go to a race."
you chuckle, "i definitely will do that."
"ready to go?" he asks, holding his hand out to you.
you nod and take his hand, "let's go."
you and seokmin leave the building together. there's still some paparazzi lingering, but you give simple waves and smiles to the photographers. you meet with your crew and all of you decide to head to a restaurant for dinner.
"hey y/n," one of your crew members calls. he holds your trophy up, "i think you should bring this one with us."
"bring it to dinner? and have seokmin drink out of it again?" you ask.
"oh come on, you did that before i did," seokmin says to you.
"and i'll do it again if it means you'll do it," you say to him. "hand it over," you say and receiver your trophy.
"wait, stop right there. you look cute," seokmin says and suddenly takes his backpack off. he fishes his camera out and turns it on. "gotta show off the best racer in this industry," he says and takes the lens cap off.
you smile, "she's retired now," you remind him.
"doesn't matter. she'll be number one in my heart for the rest of our lives," seokmin says and holds up his camera to take a photo of you.
#sweetiesicheng#kpop#sweetiesicheng seventeen#seventeen#seventeen x reader#seventeen x y/n#seventeen x you#seventeen fanfic#carat#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen dk#seventeen lee seokmin#lee seokmin#seokmin#lee dokyeom#dokyeom x y/n#dokyeom x you#dokyeom x reader#seventeen lee dokyeom#dokyeom fanfic#dokyeom imagines#seventeen dokyeom#dokyeom#seokmin x y/n#seokmin x you#seokmin x reader#seokmin fanfic#seventeen seokmin#seokmin scenarios#svt x reader
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half past five high - prologue: when we met in venice (part 1)
pairing: photographer!Joshua x influencer fem!reader
genre: comedy, drama, fluff, strangers to enemies to ????
warnings: alcohol and food consumption, cursing, drama, minor violence and involvement of the police
word count: 2.9k
summary: in the world of fashion, social media and influence, you're one of the game changers. But you never knew that a smaller player in the form of a freelance photographer would be able to change you.
Author's note: hello I am indeed alive and so is this series!! this is also part of the SVTHUB World Tour collab hosted by @svthub!
p.s.1: in case you wonder why the teaser part isn't included in this fic.... it's because I split it in half heheheheh
©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2024. No reposting allowed. No translations allowed without permission.
Fashion Week. Probably one of the most exciting weeks in your life, even more than Christmas.
A week full of runway shows and models dressed in extravagant outfits, interviews with designers from all over the world and huge chances of expanding your network all over the world.
Every single year, you’ve never failed to attend the shows, no matter the city it takes place in and this year is no exception.
Your recent collaboration with Prada landed you an illustrious invitation to the front rows of their fashion show and you would never miss the chance to visit Venice, given the fact it has been on your travel bucket list for ages.
And here you are, on the grand night, sitting on the front row with Liz, your trusty helper, amongst other celebrities with names brighter than diamonds. Under other circumstances, you would have felt at least intimidated, but knowing that some of these celebrities follow you on social media is a huge ego boost for you.
The show begins and you fall silent, your eyes watching the stunning yet stoic looking models parade on the catwalk, each one of them dressed with the latest designs. You can hear faint whispers from all around you, probably discussing (or criticizing) about the clothes.
Fucking stuck up idiots, you think. A bit ironic, but it doesn’t stop you from making this thought.
Nevertheless, you decide to stop bothering with the rest of the guests and focus your sights on the runway, keeping mental notes of the sleek designs, occasionally whipping out your phone to keep photos and videos of the event.
A few hours later, you enjoy a glass of pink champagne, casually walking through the halls of Centro Congressi of San Servolo. Your ears catch conversations made in multiple languages, Italian being the dominant one - you are in Italy, after all.
“I know we’ve been in fashion shows before, but something about Venice feels so….classy.” Liz looks around the hall with curious eyes.
“Keep your eyes peeled, darling, it will be a great chance for you to learn even more.” You send her a wink.
“Y-Yes, of course, Miss!”
“Jesus Christ, you can just call me by my name, it’s not like we’re that apart in terms of age!”
“I- No, I never even thought of that!” The blond girl gestures apologetically, “It’s purely out of respect and courtesy.”
“How did I get so lucky with you?” You pat her head gently, still holding your glass in your hand, “Don’t worry too much though - You can always help yourself to a glass of champagne.”
Liz gives you a hearty smile, but that smile turns into a scared expression as you’re about to turn around to walk away, not noticing the incoming man behind you.
“Miss Y/N, watch out-”
You let out a scream in the middle of the hall, as you bump into the unknown man and his glass of champagne crashes and spills all over your Prada outfit, drenching the expensive fabrics.
“Oh my God, I am so sorry-” The man apologizes honestly, “Wait, let me help-”
“Don’t you fucking dare, you asshole!” You snap at him, “Are you even aware of how expensive my outfit is?!”
“I do, that’s why I wish to help!”
“Yeah, I can see how much you’re helping right now!”
“Miss Y/N, please, let’s not cause a scene!” Liz begs you to stop yelling, as she tries to calm you down.
“Maybe you should listen to your friend,” he comments, “She’s clearly more composed than you.”
“What did you say?” You narrow your eyes at the infuriatingly handsome man.
“Miss Y/N, let’s just g-”
With a swift motion, you splash your remaining champagne over his face and throw the glass on the marbled ground, the loud noise making more heads turn towards you.
“If you knew where the fuck you were going, none of this would have happened, asshole!” You turn on your heel angrily and Liz follows right behind, bowing repeatedly, as a form of apology.
The young man stands in the middle of the hall like a frozen pole, unable to form a sentence. He takes a few looks around and notices lots of other guests looking at him with mockery and disdain written all over their faces. He’s certain that the whole incident will make the tour of the online world until the end of the night and the tour of the TV morning gossip shows until the next day arrives.
A waiter approaches the man and wordlessly hands him a cotton napkin, the latter accepting it with a nod of his head to clean whatever he could from his ruined outfit.
"Anything else I can do to help you, sir?"
"Nothing, I'm afraid," He sighs in defeat, "but thank you nonetheless."
The next morning finds you in your hotel room, angrily watching the news tabloids about the champagne incident with two eye patches on your under eye area and a pitch black coffee in your hand.
"Preposterous. Utterly preposterous!" You close the TV and throw the remote controller on the bed.
"Miss Y/N, I'm really sorry for what happened," Liz hangs her head in shame, "If only I had noticed him coming towards you sooner-"
"If you feel so bad for everything that happened last night and you want to prove that you're not useless, find me that man's info!"
“I already did that last night, Miss.”
“Then why didn’t you say so?!”
“You were asleep, Miss!” Liz defends herself. “It's rude to wake up someone in the middle of their sleep.”
“What’s the point of not ruining my sleep, if my career is falling apart within mere moments?!” You yell at her.
“I’m sorry! I’m just trying my best to support you, but yelling at me won’t help at all!” Liz retaliates and you nearly gasp from her newfound resolve.
You let out a deep sigh and sit on the bed, crossing your legs.
“You’re right. You’re actually the only person that has done nothing wrong.” You rub your temples with your fingers. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”
“It’s okay, I understand your frustration.” Liz responds with a small smile, “If you still want to discuss about that gentleman’s info-”
“Gentleman?! He ruined my clothes!”
“I know! But he still tried to help-”
“Just give me his info, Liz.”
She hands over her tablet to you and your fingers start swiping on the screen, browsing through the notes Liz has kept.
“Joshua Hong, freelance photographer? Eh, I expected more.” You grimace in disappointment.
“I think he’s very talented. He’s definitely not as pompous as other photographers who have made a name for themselves.”
“Whose side are you on again?”
“Yours! I’m just….sharing my first impression of him…”
“You find him charming, don’t you?” You raise your eyebrow at her.
“But he is!”
You stare at the tablet screen, your eyes fixated on the profile picture of his Instagram account.
His facial features are so balanced and his skin is so perfect and you know it's not a filtered photo - with your experience, you know when a photo on social media is filtered, and this one is very much real.
“Yeah. In a very infuriating way.”
"Did he really bother you that much?"
"Well duh!"
"It was still an accident-"
"That made me the center of all social media gossip and drama!"
You pause right after finishing your sentence, the gears in your head spinning faster than the wheels of a Ferrari.
"Um, Miss Y/N?"
"Liz, I will need your help."
"Of course, but what for?"
A Cheshire cat grin spreads on your lips.
"Why, addressing the situation of course."
"You plan on releasing a statement?"
"Of course. Can't let the whole drama unattended, right?" You take a sip from your coffee.
"Miss, are you sure about this?"
"One hundred percent. I promise, it won't take more than ten minutes. Then we can go get a proper breakfast by the pool."
“Seriously, she just dropped a whole glass on you because you accidentally dropped a glass on her?”
“Crazy, I know,” Joshua sighs, “and because of that, my face is all over the paparazzi news!”
“At least you’re looking good in front of the camera!”
“Cheol, can you please be serious about this? My career is hanging by a thread!”
“It was just a petty dispute, people will forget about it in a few days,” Seungcheol replies calmly, “You just got a champagne bath, you weren’t caught by the police for drug trafficking.”
“Well, if you put it that way, it doesn’t sound as bad.”
“See? You just need to be chill about it. It’s not the end of the world.”
“But still, she sounded so fucking entitled, like?”
“Well, she’s a top class influencer, what did you expect?”
“She’s a what now?”
“Really now, Josh?” Seungcheol sighs in disappointment.
"I'm a photographer, not someone who sells fairytales and Pinterest-related stuff on social media." Joshua scoffs.
"It still doesn't change the fact that you live under a rock."
"I was literally invited to Fashion Week, fuck you Cheol."
"Either way, I suggest you look into her social media, just to be prepared."
"Fine, whatever - Wait, prepared for what?"
"For any possible scenario!"
"You said that it wasn't something serious not too long ago!"
"I did. But it's always wise to have a backup plan in case things go south."
"That last bit felt really ominous…."
"You can always not pay attention to me!"
"Don't you have a job to do?"
"I am my own boss, in case you're forgetting." Seungcheol snickers.
"You remind me with every chance you get…" Joshua groans.
"I love you too, Josh. Gotta go now, buddy, it was nice talking to you."
"Good luck out there, Cheol."
"Could say the same for ya."
Joshua ends the call and drops his phone on the mattress, deciding to get dressed and visit the hotel restaurant for some brunch.
His phone rings again, but it's multiple notifications this time.
"Someone's impatient…" He mutters to himself as he picks up his phone again.
seungcheol: I fear I might have jinxed your downfall
seungcheol: please stay calm while you're reading the next screenshot
seungcheol has sent a photo.
Joshua opens the photo and carefully reads the white text on the black background, the blood in his body steadily rushing to his head.
Hello, this is Y/N. I am writing this post to address the situation that occured last night in San Servolo.
First of all, I am deeply sorry for the trouble I caused to the rest of the guests and the organizers of the event, as it does not reflect the person I truly am. However, I must say that major damages occurred due to mister Joshua Hong's carelessness, since the outfit I donned was custom made by the house of Prada.
I am willing to put this unfortunate incident to rest, as long as the perpetrator is also willing to compensate for the damages made.
Once again, I am sorry for the trouble I caused.
"What the fuck is this?!" Joshua yells in the middle of his room and rapidly types back to Seungcheol.
joshua: IS SHE FUCKING SERIOUS
joshua: COMPENSATION? SHE DELIBERATELY RUINED MY CLOTHES TOO
seungcheol: josh calm down for Christ's sake
joshua: how am I supposed to calm down after this??
joshua: bitch took her own narrative and ran with it
joshua: bet you this is already circling around the gossip tabloids
seungcheol: do you want me to contact my lawyer and see what we can do?
joshua: no not yet
joshua: desperate times call for desperate measures
seungcheol: joshua please don't
Joshua chooses to ignore his friend's texts and reaches out for the telephone on his nighstand, in order to call the reception.
He knows Prada has reserved rooms for all the ambassadors in this hotel, so you must be staying in the same hotel as him.
"Hotel Baglioni de Luna, how may I help you?"
"Good morning, this is Joshua Hong."
"Oh, hello sir Hong! What can I do for you?"
"If it is possible, could you perhaps tell me if miss…Y/N L/N is present in her room?"
"She called not too long ago to ask about the morning buffet. I supposed she must be taking breakfast."
"Thank you kindly for your help."
"Have a good morning, sir Hong."
Definitely not good, but might as well make it hell for her, Joshua thinks as he ends the call.
He gets up and opens his closet, taking out a pair of jeans and a linen shirt, quickly changing into them. He slips on his shoes and grabs his phone, room key and wallet before he leaves.
"Let's see what you will do now, miss Y/N."
If Satan had an only child, you would probably be the one.
You're happily enjoying your breakfast together with Liz right next to the pool, humming a happy tune as you take a bite from your cookie.
"Is it really possible to be so happy from one person's misery?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, darling." You reply with a smile on your face.
Liz sighs deeply and resumes eating her breakfast.
"There you are, you poisonous bitch!"
The loud voice nearly makes the girl jump from her seat, but you remain unfazed, until Joshua is stomping his way to your table, slamming his phone on the surface.
"What do you think you're doing?" You look at him with narrowed eyes.
"I should be asking you that question!" He shoves the phone in your face with your statement on it, "Compensation? Contacting the company?! Bitch, we're ambassadors of the same brand!"
"Yet you were the first one to ruin my outfit!" You angrily get up from your seat.
"And you were the one who ruined mine on purpose!" Joshua retaliates.
"Both of you, please stop causing a scene again, everyone is looking!" Liz tries to separate the two of you, noticing how everyone is staring at you and Joshua, just like last night.
"Perhaps I should release a statement as well and sue you for defamation - At least I'm kind enough to warn you beforehand." He spits with a venomous tone.
"Oh, because that would be so beneficial to someone who is as insignificant as you. Freelance photographer, my ass. You're just another paparazzi who wants the few minutes of fame!"
Your words make Joshua furious beyond the point of return and he picks up your coffee cup, splashing it all over you in the same manner you threw champagne on him.
"There, now we're even, you dramatic bitch."
"Mister Hong!" Liz yells at him, "What is wrong with you?!"
You grit your teeth and raise your right hand, immediately slapping him across the face with full force, making sure it left a handprint on his face.
"You are the worst person I've ever met in my life!"
"I could say the same about you!"
Your anger consumes you and you physically lunge yourself at him, pulling him by the shirt to tackle him. Unfortunately for you, he's much stronger than you and he manages to retain his balance, giving him an opening to push you against the table and knock over some of the plates.
"You asshole!" You yell and get back on your feet, pushing Joshua away. This time, he actually loses his balance and falls into the pool.
"What the hell is wrong with you?!" He yells at you as he tries to get out of the pool.
"You're the one who made me do it in the first place!"
Liz stands at the sidelines, watching the scene unfold with horror and she runs to one of the waiters without hesitation.
"Call the hotel security, or the police! Just call someone, please!"
The waiter nods and rushes to the mini bar, shortly asking the staff to alert the security.
Only a couple of minutes later, two men of the hotel security barge through the glass doors and make their way to the pool, where two more waiters are trying to separate you from Joshua.
"Stop right there!" They yell and apprehend the both of you, waving at the waiters to stand aside.
"Let me go! He's the one who started it!" You yell out loud.
"You can say that to the police when they arrive," the other man informs you, "you've already caused a great deal of discomfort to the rest of the guests and damages to the area."
"But-"
"Oh, just shut up already!" Joshua curses at you again.
"I don't remember asking for your opinion, asshole!"
The security have to forcefully bring you down to the ground level of the hotel, where two police cars are parked outside the entrance.
"One of your staff told us about the situation, that's why we brought two vehicles - we can't suffer damages either." The police officer explains as he handcuffs you and Joshua separately, leading you towards the cars.
"Wait!" Liz runs outside, "Let me go with her!"
"We cannot allow that, Miss. You might be called in later by the officers for a testimony, but that's all you can do."
"Liz!" You shout from inside the car.
"Yes ma'am?!"
"Call my lawyer and tell her everything!"
"Will do!" She shouts back and watches the officers return in the vehicles, taking you and Joshua away.
She looks behind her, multiple guests and hotel staff discussing with disapproval written all over their faces. It's guaranteed that photos and videos will already circulate the Internet and the damage control will be insanely hard to complete.
"Lord give me the strength to pull through this."
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