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milksuu · 1 year ago

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Sorry, Mom. I'm The New Cleaning Lady For Heartsteel

Pairings: various!Heartsteel x f!reader

Status: on-going (Cross posted on AO3)

Content/Warnings: 18+ content, explicit themes, suggestive language

Summary: Identity theft was a crime—that was obvious. But when it meant paying off the bills for basically existing and your mother’s hospital expenses, committing a felony didn’t seem like a bad thing. It was like that one quote, from that one band, with that one hit song: “Two sides to a story but they never tell me side.”

Or…something like that. Wait, what was their name again? Heartsteel? Sounds like a dating sim game.

[Reader takes the identity of her mother, who had been hired to be the new cleaning lady for an up and coming boy band named ‘Heartsteel’. Obviously, there’s no way they would ever find out. But that was a joke. Because they’re definitely finding out: one by one.]

“You…brought your own cleaning supplies?”

“You always need to be prepared, young man,” you replied, adjusting your duck-yellow cleaning gloves. They squeeked and flopped comically around your hand and fingers.

“Ma’am, you do understand today is solely the house tour.” The man folded his arms neatly against his chest, white brow raised. “In order to rely on you fully, you’ll need to be familiar with the estate first. I thought we discussed this beforehand. That and…we have cleaning supplies to provide you with here.”

You paused at the grand modern entrance. You lifted your bucket full of sponges, brushes, and cleaning spray from the dollar store. 'Buy-one-get-one' on all cleaning supplies was the grand deal of the day. How could you pass a penny-pinching bargain? Swallowing your shame, you settled the cheap items on the pristine granite floors.

“Oh, is that so? Must’ve slipped my mind. Age will do that to you.” You forced a chuckle, adjusting your sterile mask across your youthful face. “That and, I have such a passion for cleaning. I can't help myself. I see the inside of a house, and I just have to clean it. I’m sure you could understand that.”

“I don’t believe I could,” your employer said dryly. “Anyway, if you will, follow me.”

You nodded and shuffled along accordingly. As you stared into the back of his immaculately pressed business attire, a new-found horror struck through you: you had no clue what your employer’s name was. Frantically, you scavenged your pockets. From it, you pulled out a business card, holding it so close to your face you smelled the tinge of clean cologne.

YONE

RIOT RECORDS

DJ / PRODUCER

EMAIL: [email protected]

TELEPHONE: XXX-XXX-XXXX

“The bottom floor consists of all of the amenities; gym, entertainment area, recording studio and so on.” Yone stated as he stepped into the open-kitchen plan. When he regarded you again, you awkwardly plunged the card back into your pants pocket. “The boys have their own scheduled chores every week. They’re expected to do it without you having to help them. I’m trying to keep them humble, but easier said than done. Refer to the chore calendar on the fridge. And try not to interfere with it too much.”

“Okay—who switched my protein powder with flour?” Behind an opened cabinet, a heavy-muscled stacked man growled. “Guys. Seriously. This stuff’s expensive. Where’d it go?” When he poured the contents out into the trash can, he plucked out a note from the bottom of the canister. The small print read:

‘Protein powder tastes like dog food.’’

The weight of realization punched him square between the eyes. He threw open the pantry, where dog kibble was stored in a tub at the bottom marked ‘Ernest’. Sett pulled open the container, and sure enough, found his protein powder and scooper. There was no mistaking his favorite smell of cinnamon crunch isolate, now mixed with the scent of dry-bacon kibble. Another note pasted the inside lid:

‘Woof–Woof ฅ՞•ﻌ•՞ฅ’

“A–phe–li–os,” the name gritted between his canines. His ears flattened against his untamed hair, and crumpled the note to dust in his palm. “Oh–Ho. Mess with me all you want; but never mess with my gains. I’m gonna’ prank him back so hard tonight, he’s gonna’ be begging me to stop.”

“Sett,” Yone coughed, grabbing the Vistayan's attention. “We have a guest today. Our new cleaning lady.”

“Oh, sorry about that.” Sett wiped his powdered hand against his sleeveless shirt. He reached and took your rubber glove with a squelch. “Hey, how’s it goin’, Ma’am. The name’s Sett.”

You swallowed hard, hoping your glove would remain securely covering your hand. You feared if he pulled back, he would reveal a hand that wasn't so wrinkled for someone supposedly in their late-fifties. And that was according to your mother’s age printed on her driver’s license. Thankfully, you could tell he restrained himself to a delicate shake.

“Would talk more but gotta hit the gym. Nice meetin’ yah though,'' Sett started away, and called back over his shoulder. “Mom, can you take care of Phel for me? I dunno' where he hid the dog food for Ernest.”

Yone exhaled a silent sigh, and part of you felt pity for your employer. He seemed like a parent with a tag-team of overbearing children running around the house. Being a single parent was difficult; you knew this first hand from your own up-bringing. It made you grateful for your mother’s patience and attention. It was the reason you were here in the first place.

“Let’s continue with the tour upstairs,” Yone said, motioning you to a loft-style staircase. “The second floor consists of all the bedrooms and laundry room. At the end of the hall is my room. As it stands, it’s completely off limits to everyone, including yourself.” He turned a sharp chin in your direction, “Am I understood?”

You gulped and pressed your shoulders straight. “Of course.”

“Mommy, help me!” A bed of green hair bounced to Yone’s side, tugging at his tailored suit. “Kayn’s bullying me again. But I didn’t do anything wrong, I swear.”

“You’re such a crappy liar.” The presumed assailant, Kayn, stomped out of the hallway bathroom. Magenta hair stuck to his furrowing brows. With just a towel wrapped around his steaming waist, his abdominal muscles tensed, pointing aggressively at his target. “I was trying to shower in peace, until bubblegum pop princess over here came barging in trying to take selfies of himself. Did you know people usually shower naked? I’d like my junk not to be posted on social media, unless I’m the one doing it. For cash.”

“It’s not my fault you’re always going over your shower limit. News flash: we each only get fifteen-minutes. But you’re always breaking the rules! You know I take my selfies at the same time, at the same place, every single day. So how about you do us all a favor, and get some better time management?”

Kayn raised a vein popping fist into the air. “How about I get you a better face instead?"

Ezreal cried fake sparkling tears, cowering further behind their producer.

“Enough. The both of you,” Yone tightened around his words like a leash, restraining the quarreling pair. “For once, I’d like for you two to at least pretend you get along in front of others.”

The two whined and grumbled under their breaths till they fell to a silent agreement. But the peace treaty wasn’t upheld for long. You saw a zap of yellow from the corner of your eye. The image was so fast, you thought you must’ve imagined it—Nope. You definitely saw something. Kayn’s towel knot popped loose. And it wasn’t caused by an event of divine intervention.

The towel billowed towards the ground. And the world felt as if it was turning in slow motion, like one of those car chase movies with excessive explosions. Except, the only explosion here would be your very own heart.

Sure, you took an anatomy class here and there. In high school, you remembered the penis joke’s and games, and they never flustered you. Heck, not even when your friends set your desktop screen to a .gif of dicks spinning in circles—you found that hilarious. And when anatomy classes began in college, they were all very clinical, rudimentary, and otherwise a snooze fest.

But seeing one in real life when you’ve never had a boyfriend or a one night stand, was truly groundbreaking. Earth shattering, even.

Penis (en)counter: 1

While you were stuck in your prison of naïve embarrassment, Ezreal laughed and pulled out his cell phone, camera light shuttering a mile a minute.

“You little shi—!” Time sped forward again. With fast reflexes of his own, Kayn whipped the towel and knot back in place. “That’s it. You’re dead.”

“Uh–Oh. Time to run again,” Ezreal quipped, zooming off down the stairs.

With all bark and full bite, Kayn vanished like a cloud of smoke in pursuit. You coughed against the smog, while Yone merely swatted his hand back and forth, dissipating the gray wisps.

“You’ll have to excuse them,” he commented. “They share the same room, but have vastly different personalities. I arranged most of them together, thinking it’d help them understand each other on a deeper level. And ultimately, help them perform better together in the studio and on stage. My efforts are…yet to be determined.”

“That’s alright. Can’t be easy for young men their age to share anything. Especially with them being full of energy, testosterone, and other things. O-Oh, to be young once more…ah-ha…” you laughed nervously. Oh, God. What the heck were you saying? Honestly, you had to give pardon to yourself. You were still trying to recover from seeing your first penis up close and personal.

The image would be forever burned in your mind.

You were pulled from your self-conscious thoughts. Down the hall, a pair of shadowed eyes peeked through a sliver of door and frame. When your gaze locked together, the other pair of eyes shifted shyly from side to side. As if a poltergeist existed within the room, the visage faded back into the uncanny crack of darkness. The door creaked closed, with an audible click and lock.

Yone pursued straight to the door, and you stood a few paces back. If there was any chance that a ghost was inside living rent-free, you wouldn't be the first it possessed. You weren't a certified Ghostbuster.

But you also weren't a certified Dustbuster, either. No one will know, know one will know, you chanted the comforting hymn.

“Aphelios. Open the door. I know you’re in there. I can see the computer light flashing,” Yone stated, rattling the door knob. “Where’s the kibble for the dog? Sett told me you have it somewhere.”

There was a beat in the air. From behind the door, you heard feet pacing back and forth, and the sounds of finger taps against a phone screen. Yone’s phone pinged with an alert. He pulled it out, and opened his text messages.

‘I can’t open the door all the way. I set the bucket of dog food to fall on Sett’s head when he comes in. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ’

“For the love of…no more pranks today." Yone pinched the bridge of his nose with a groan. "But I doubt you could even manage that. Whatever trap you’ve ensembled, take it down—now. And put the dog’s food back in the pantry. Unless you want to donate a cut of your earnings every month to Ernest’s pet store bill.”

Another pause, followed by begrudging phone taps.

‘Fine, m O T h E r…(¬_¬")’

“That might take him a few. Depending how intricate the set up was. I would be surprised if the only thing involved in this scheme was just the dog food.” Yone motioned you back down the stairs. “Last thing to see is the outdoor space.”

Continuing with the tour, you passed through the lower floor, stepping down a hallway decorated with awards and magazine clippings. From commercial modeling gigs to sold out venues, your eyes glistened at the polished look the group was slowly cultivating. Which you had to admit, completely contradicted their personal lives.

When you reached a sliding glass door that stretched from floor to ceiling, you stepped out onto a landscaped deck. Lush modern garden trims, a shaded outdoor lounge, and smooth sandstone pavement decorated the space. At the backend, an infinity pool rested in pristine stillness.

At the head of the pool, a person of sculpted bronze physique posed in swimwear on a lounge chair. When you approached along with your chaperone, he picked up his tropical drink, and tilted it in a cheering gesture.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Mama gracing me with his presence. And look's like someone else is with him, too.” The man basking in the sun's rays and oil slicked, shucked his sunglasses onto his dread locks. “Let me guess. This must be the new cleaning lady you hired to pick up after our mess.”

“To a certain degree,” Yone replied. “But not all of the mess, K’Sante. Out of everyone, you should know better.”

“I only joke, Mama.” He grinned smoothly, taking a sip of his frozen alcoholic refresher. “Say, have you seen Sett? I told him to come join me for a tan by the pool. If he wants his muscles to truly pop, he needs to use some oil and not be allergic to the sun. The man is whiter than the sky is bright today.”

As he laughed to himself, Ernest left his chew toy at the far side of the pool, and came to sniff your shoes. With a smile, you slipped a very small piece of your long sleeve up, allowing him to sniff at your skin. The dog lapped his tongue around his slobbering chops, barking delightedly and pawing for you to pet him. You were more than happy to oblige.

These gloves came in handy after all, you thought pleasantly as globs of saliva fell in heaps over your fingers.

“What’s this? Ernest taking a liking to the cleaning lady already,” K’Sante mused at the sight. “Barely warmed up to us when we first met. We won’t mention the illegal trespassing but, call me impressed.”

With a wink, he flicked his sunglasses back down to the bridge of his nose. “That or he has a ‘ting for older women. Can’t say I blame ‘em. An experienced woman has a certain power that’ll make any grown man cry. And from my own experience, it is never for mercy.”

Oh, boy. You couldn’t imagine your mother being interested in the cougar life-style. Not that you would approve of it. And you were certain your father would descend from the heavens and deliver the backhand of God to any young man who dared otherwise.

Before Yone could address the unsavory statement, Ezreal burst through the backyard sliding doors. Still possessed with laughter, he hopped and skipped over pool chairs and tables. The merriment stopped short when Kayn caught up to the cheeky idol, snatching his wrist which held the phone. From the staggering halt, the phone slipped from Ezreal’s hold, somersaulting towards the pool.

“M-My phone!” Ezreal paled at the thought of losing thousands of stored photos of himself—Oh, and the blackmail photos he was going to use against Kayn, too.

Yanking his wrist free, Ezreal pursued the device. But Ernest’s rubber hotdog toy squealed beneath him, forcing him off balance. Kayn latched an arm around Ezreal's slim waist, and pressed him safely against his bare chest.

He huffed against Ezreal's ear. “You can’t swim, you idiot. Remember? Just let it go.”

Ernest barked at the surmounting commotion. Being the valiant guard dog with the perfect pedigree, he bounded on his thick paws to catch Kayn by the towel, with all the intent to keep them both from falling in. What a good boy! Unfortunately for Kayn, Ernest bit a bit more than he could chew.

Kayn’s voice bass boosted ten-octaves lower. “MY DAMN ASS!”

W-Whose voice was that? Was that even the same person? The thought rattled through you.

A chunk of Kayn's soft meat condensed in the jaws of a furry devil. A shock travelled up the nerves of his spine, into the the muscle fibers of his arm, shoving Ezreal forward. Ezreal flailed his hands in the air, desperate to find some semblance of balance—with no luck, at all. Fumbling on his tip-toes, Ezreal plummeted into the pool with a splash. Kayn stumbled from the after-shock of his spirit being bitten straight through his buttcheeks. His feet met the cursed rubber squeaker, sending him following suit into the pool. Except, the towel had its own plans. It decided to stay behind and not get involved.

Penis (en)counter: 2

“I heard some commotion, fellas. What’s goin’ on?” Sett stepped out from the sliding doors. He caught witness of Ezreal’s face treading water, gasping for bouts of air. Sett’s muscles popped at the sight, barreling towards the scene. “Don’t worry, Ez. I’m coming for yah, buddy!”

Sett launched himself into the air, preparing the most athletic Olympic dive ever conceived.

Kayn inhaled sharply as he broke through the water's surface tension. Recuperating his breaths, he slicked his wet hair back from his face. Looking down at the waters crystal reflection, an odd shadow grew in size around him. And according to the forecast earlier; there was no chance in Hell of clouds or rain. Lifting his nose to the darkening sky, he blanched in sheer horror. A body, massive enough to eclipse the sun, hurled down like a meteor descending to Earth.

What day was it today, Doomsday? He must've forgot; Kayn never bothered to look at calendar's, anyway.

Back to the painful mistress that was his life; a weak, painful moan escaped him. “You can’t be serious. This isn’t the cool death I deserve—”

Those were Kayn’s final words. A wave rivaling a tsunami consumed him, a random pizza chair float, and the immediate surrounding pool area. Standing in the designated splash zone, pool water soaked your soles, leached into your socks, and dampened your pants to the knees. From K’Sante’s spot, a shot of chlorine or two spiked his drink. He snatched his sunglasses off and shouted the words; “This was the last bit of banana daiquiri mix, you aboas! Now I have to go down to the liquor store and hope they sell it frozen already.”

Yone, with all the grace anyone could hope to be blessed with, merely side-stepped away. A single speck landed on his polished shoes. He narrowed his steely eyes, flicking away the insignificant drop.

You caught something flashing on the second floor of the estate. Looking up, you shielded your eyes from the glaring sun. From one of the windows, you spotted someone holding up a sign. You assumed it was Aphelios. The poster read:

‘4/10 Ezreal. 6/10 Kayn. 10/10 Sett.’

With a dramatic burst through the water, Sett hurled Ezreal over his massive shoulder, and walked out of the pool. Placing Ezreal onto his soaking back, he coughed and gagged against the awful taste of treated water.

He smiled at his new-found savior. “Thanks, Sett. I’m fine, but what about Kayn…”

The group shifted their attention over the silent, lapping water. After a bubble or two, the sight of Kayn’s bare bottom surfaced to the top. Floating like a wet and rounded land-mass, with the additional landmark of a pink dog-bite.

“Kayn! Hang in there, pal!” Sett launched himself once more into the water, creating another wave of soaking magnitude.

Although the drink had already been spoiled, K’Sante reflexively covered the top of his daiquiri glass. “For God’s sake, Sett. Take your time. It’s not like you’re saving the life of an innocent man.”

As chaos continued to ensue around the gang, Yone placed himself at your side. With a shake of his head, he crossed his arms, and sent a ghost of a smile your way.

“Welcome to Heartsteel,” he said. “Your first day starts tomorrow.”

Looks like your identity was safe…for now, at least.

an: thanks for reading! the rest of the this story will most likely just be on my AO3. You can find me @ milksuu. comments and suggestions always welcomed. <3

#heartsteel #league of legends #Heartsteel x reader #kayn x reader #ezreal x reader #aphelios x reader #Sett x reader #K'Sante x reader #Yone x reader #reader insert #league of legends fanfiction #cross posted on ao3 #divider by @benkeibear

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jishyucks · 7 months ago

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Crayon Confessions – njm

‣ pairing: na jaemin x reader

‣ genre: fluff, f2l/co'workers'-to-lovers

‣ wc: 2.2k

‣ summary: You have two weaknesses—Gojo and men with kids�� and you guess, Jaemin. That would make it three, but he falls under that second category; alternatively, in which you weren’t really planning on developing feelings for Na Jaemin but seeing him work with kids all the time at the local community centre is making it damn hard not to.

‣ warnings: genuinely don't think there's anything, low-key rushed ending

‣ an: this is honestly not my best but FINALLY MY LAST PART OF THE SERIES IM CELEBRATING YIPEEEEEE—yes i know this is set in december and its now may but it's bc this was supposed to be posted during the holidays 😭 my dumbass overestimated my capabilities and school got in the way but all that matters is that i actually finished a 12 part series?? patting myself on the back,, ANYWAYS to those who actually followed my series I thank you so much. PLS ENJOY THIS! <33

Series Masterlist

You have two weaknesses—Gojo and men with kids. And within the past few months, Na Jaemin has been fighting his way to the top of that list despite (technically) fitting under that second category.

The more time you spent with him, the more you were able to make out that Jaemin obviously wanted to make a name for himself rather than being lumped into a handful of men—and you didn’t like it.

You’ve only known the guy just shy of six months, having chosen to volunteer at the community centre since July, and he’s managed to shimmy his way into your life like it was his purpose. And it makes you angry because he was perfect—perhaps as perfect as the dozens of fictional men you’ve crushed on.

Only Jaemin wasn’t fictional.

In fact, he was sitting two tables away from you, helping the kids spell out the words they needed to include in the holiday greetings cards.

“You’re staring again.”

Giselle presses her lips into a tight line to keep her laugh from bursting out.

Your eyes widened, trying to recollect yourself when you realized that you were, in fact, staring at Jaemin, “Was I being obvious?”

Giselle hums, tilting her head to muster up an answer, “Mm… a little?”

“Not a little. A lot.”

You and Giselle turn to Lily, one of the kids you’ve both grown close to over the past few months. You raise a brow at her, “Aren’t you supposed to be making these cards?”

Lily snickers and goes back to her given task of colouring a poorly printed Santa Claus. You turn back to Giselle, who’s already offering an apologetic look because kids are blunt.

“Okay, you were more than a little bit obvious but that boy was too oblivious to notice,” she shrugs, “I think, at least.” Giselle taps the pile of finished cards against the table to line them all up before placing them again at the centre of the table.

You groan, tempted to bang your head against the shared table in front of you. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not,” Giselle snorts, “But I really don’t think he saw you. He’s too busy with the kids.” She nods her head in Jaemin’s direction and your eyes follow without a second thought.

The sight was one you’ve seen countless times yet it still makes you swoon every time you lay eyes on the scene. Jaemin’s perfect smile is etched on his face as he leans over one of the youngest kids, fixing the way the boy is holding the marker. The boy lets out a little giggle, reciprocating the smile on the elder’s face.

“Look away before you lose yourself again,” Giselle teases, using her index finger to turn your face away from Jaemin’s direction. Giselle immediately notices the way a look of sheepishness replaces your charmed expression. She pats your shoulder, almost coming in the form of a push, “I bet if you asked him out he would say yes.”

“I’ll only ask him out if I’m sure he likes me back,” you whisper. “I have literal receipts of clues that he does like you back,” Giselle threatens to pull her phone out despite your organizer discouraging the use of any devices during the shifts.

You shake your head, head mentally raking through all the times you Jaemin had made you feel like sinking into the hard cold cement. “Those were just times I was overthinking everything… I’m sure he’s just naturally nice.”

“Well, he is naturally nice,” Giselle nods, “But you can’t tell me that all the things he’s done were done solely to be nice.” Giselle leans back on her chair and narrows her eyes at you, “He’s too old to be on Santa’s list anyway.”

“I don’t consider holding the door open for me and bringing me hot chocolate that one time as clues.”

One of the other little girls pushes an unfinished piece of paper and the small baby safety scissors your way. By reflex, you pick it up from where she started having trouble, snipping away the excess paper before handing it back for her to glue onto construction paper.

“How about that one time he walked you home?”

“He said he was going to his grandma’s—” you counter.

“Could’ve been an excuse,” Giselle shrugs, “Real reason could be he wanted to spend time with you without having to ask for it.”

“I was wrong. I think you’re the delusional one here,” you narrow your eyes and tap your feet against the floor underneath you. Jaemin was Jaemin. Soon after meeting him, you caught on to the fact that he was naturally playful, almost coming off as a flirt to everyone he encountered.

“I’m not being delusional,” Giselle rolls her eyes and leans in closer to you so that whatever comes out of her mouth next can’t be heard by anyone around you, “Do you want me to list everything that’s happened between him and you over the past few months? ‘Cause you’re asking for it.”

You shake your head, already knowing which ones she’d list. Giselle already told you that if she could, she’d make a PowerPoint presentation of Top 10 Jaemin and Y/N Moments for fun, but you were lucky that she had been swamped in both school and volunteer work to even start it.

“You’re acting like I’m not the one who’s told you these things,” you blink, “And like I said, any of them could be a product of delusion.”

Giselle peeks over at you through the corners of her eyes and smirks, “Oh, but there are ones that you haven’t seen that I have…”

And just like that, Giselle has all of your attention. It’s like she’s grasping it with the tips of her fingers, playing with it to tease you.

“Like?” You gesture for her to begin, not wanting to waste a single passing second.

Another kid at the table holds up her card for Giselle to see, “Miss Giselle, how does it look?”

Giselle’s eyes light up and she smiles, “I love how you coloured the tree, Nari! Do you need help cutting it out?”

Nari shakes her head, “I’ll try myself first.”

Giselle nods, “Sounds good to me!” Then once she’s sure that Nari is back and busy with the paper tree, she turns back to you, “Do you want it in chronological order?”

Your brows furrow, “It doesn’t matter to me.”

She hums and begins, “You know how you came when me and Jaemin have already been here for a little while?”

You nod.

“Well, Jaemin, every single day since we both started, kept his things in that one corner locker. He told me once he hated the other lockers with a passion but never really told me why. It was actually hilarious because there was one shift when Jisung came earlier than he did and he snatched it before Jaemin and Jaemin told him off,” Giselle snorted, recalling the memory, “It was stupid. I remember telling Jaemin to let the boy be, but he was… territorial? I don’t know how to word it.”

“Where are you going with this?” you say impatiently.

“I’m getting there,” she huffs, “Anyway, when you came, you were stuck with that one locker at the top, right?”

You nod again.

“I remember you kept complaining to me about hating the locker—”

“It was too high for me to even reach the hook!” You say.

“I know, but that’s beside the point,” Giselle laughs, “My point is the very next day, Jaemin came early for the shift and instead of taking that corner locker, he claimed that top locker despite his usual one being free. It’s been that way ever since. Now you always take that corner one.”

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘And?’” Giselle’s jaw drops, “Don’t you see? He was territorial over a damn locker and when you came along, he went out of his way to move lockers just because he saw you were struggling with the top one.” “He’s just being ni—”

“Do I need to remind you that Ningning, who’s shorter than you, literally complained about the same thing and he didn’t do shi—” Giselle catches herself from swearing, remembering the setting, “—Anything to help her?”

You don’t reply and Giselle takes this as a sign to continue, “Then, there have been those days you come to a shift tired because you’ve been awake since dawn because of your eight AMs, right?” You don’t do anything but blink and Giselle continues, “I’ve seen that man go out of his way to take up some of your harder tasks just so your shift is easier and you can relax. But when I come to the shifts tired and you’re not there and he is, he just laughs in my face!”

You laugh because it just sounds like Giselle’s taking this as an opportunity to rant to you about her playful rivalry with Jaemin.

“Don’t laugh! Can’t you see where I’m going with my examples?” she whines, “I know you’re smart, Y/N!”

You shake your head, “I need you to explain it more bluntly, Gi.”

Giselle facepalms, a sigh flying out of her lips, “What I’m saying is that Jaemin pays attention to you more than you think… he treats you a hundred times better than any of us but, obviously, you’re too blind to see it because you’re still hung up on the idea that he’s just ‘being nice’.”

You swallow a pool of spit you didn’t even know was sitting in your mouth and you process your friend’s explanation. The idea of the possibility of Jaemin actually liking you back was something you thought about once in a while, but it was usually in your bed right before you went to sleep giggling. Never did these thoughts appear in broad daylight, much less with Jaemin sitting just yards away.

The thought tickles your stomach and you wanna say something to Giselle, though you’re unsure what. And before you could bring yourself to open your mouth, you felt a light tap against your shoulder.

“Miss Y/N?”

You’re punted out of your thoughts when one of the little boys from Jaemin’s table appears to your left, entering your line of sight.

“Hi, Junnie! What’s up?” you bend down slightly at the waist, eyeing the card and the crayon he’s holding in his hand.

He makes no effort to say anything else. Instead, he holds out the two items in his small hands, waiting for you to take them. When you gently do, he takes a step back, holding his arms behind his back to watch you read the card.

The front of the card was just a normal card, the greeting ‘Happy Holidays’ written on the front in a child’s handwriting in red and green crayon. Underneath the words was a Christmas tree, glued on there by, who you assumed was, Junnie.

Then, when you open it, your heart skips a beat and a half.

In crayon, in messy yet very cute writing you read:

Are you a Christmas tree?

Because I'm really pining fir you!

Dinner date?

“It’s from Mister Jaemin,” Junnie says from behind the card. He’s teetering on the balls of his feet, cheeks being pushed up by his smile.

Your heart is now pounding against your chest because it is all playing out perfectly, like how it would in a movie. With Giselle telling you things you’ve never noticed before, to you denying, and now Junnie was just sent by Jaemin to send you this cute little letter to confess to you—you’re not sure how to react.

“Oh, really?” you question.

“Really?” Giselle gasps from next to you.

Your eyes immediately dart across the room and to the mentioned boy, who’s awfully pretending to busy himself with the scraps of paper littering the table.

“What’s your answer?” Junnie questions.

Embarrassingly, you don’t even hesitate to scribble down your answer underneath the question. Handing it back to Junnie, you wave for him to come closer and you bring your mouth up to his ear, “Can you help me play a small trick on Mister Jaemin?”

Junnie nods, a mischievous smile appearing almost instantly on his face.

“When you go over there to give him this, I want you to pretend to be sad, okay? Make him think it’s not a yes.”

Junnie struggles to contain his smile before nodding once more, then turns to make his way back to Jaemin.

You follow the young boy with your eyes, watching as he does his very best to maintain a poker face. You watch as Jaemin turns to him, a look of confusion surfacing his face when he sees that Junnie is not smiling like he had anticipated and you can’t help but snicker.

The moment Junnie’s within hearing vicinity, Jaemin says something to him that you obviously couldn’t hear. Junnie glances back at you and then reveals your answer to Jaemin and you know he’s done it the second Jaemin’s face lights up.

You chuckle as Jaemin looks up at you, his face breaking into a wide smile. He waves at you shyly, like a bashful kid, before silently mouthing, "Tomorrow?"

You nod, warmth spreading across your cheeks. Giselle makes a comment over your shoulder but you don’t quite catch it, the cells in your body buzzing in excitement.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi @reignessance

an: 12/12!! This was poorly proofread so I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors or mistakes but I wanted to finish this so I can work on other wips!! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED READING THIS,, THANK YOU!

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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago

Note

Hiya Katie! How about domestic Aaron pampering her when he find out she's pregnant and jack makes her a get well soon card because he thinks she's sick but she tells him he's going to be a big brother and jacks ecstatic and Aaron is just like all smiley and happy about being a father again and maybe hoping for a girl because hotch is such a girl dad like 🤭🤭 also I love your work so much! It makes my day! Your an amazing writer ❤

newest addition

thank you so much & ughh that's the sweetest <3333 cw; fem!reader, jack calls reader mom, pregnancy, reference to vomiting wc; 1.1k

"buddy, what are you doing?"

you've been awake for awhile now, unwilling to part from the comfort of bed. your eyes are still closed, and in curiosity, you keep them that way.

"i made mom a get-well card." jack's voice is closer than aaron's, and you can hear him shuffling at your bedside. you hear a soft crinkle of a paper, a quick stagger of your water glass, as he sets the paper against it. "i heard her throwing up this morning, so i wanted to make her feel better."

morning sickness has been your worst enemy so far during your pregnancy. it was what made you question if you were pregnant at the very start, and has been frequently reoccurring throughout your first trimester. it feels like the majority of your time these days is either spent in the bathroom, or in bed absolutely overwhelmed with nausea.

if permitting - when you're leant over the toilet, aaron is always seated on the bathroom floor beside you; rubbing your back in soothing circles, holding back your hair when necessary, whispering an apology or words of encouragement. you insist he doesn't need to be present, the sounds and visual of you retching surely disgusting nonetheless. but he insists he remain put, joking it's rather romantic actually, there's no place he'd rather be.

but in all seriousness, he claims it's the least he could do, and wants to support you in all and any way he can.

even this morning at promptly five am, you had made a mad dash to the bathroom. aaron, never the light sleeper, accompanied you in the bathroom just as quickly as you had entered it.

his tenderness doesn't stop there; he'll grab your ginger ale, crackers, pretzels, anything to relieve your queasiness and keep it at bay. he even joked (but did consider) with the idea of buying you a mini fridge to keep in your bedroom - for even easier access. or if he's not home, you don't have to search far.

the two of you have known about your new littlest addition for a few weeks, and couldn't be more ecstatic. jack - not just yet. but you figure that's a case that will soon be remedied.

you can hear a soft chuckle escape from aaron, and you can easily picture the smile you know is on his face. "that's real nice of you bud, i know she'll love it. but in the meantime, c'mon, let's let her sleep, yeah?"

you hear jack's sock-covered feet pad away on the carpet, the sound of the door softly shutting following soon after.

you fall back asleep without meaning to, exhaustion reigning over your body. but an hour later, and after tearfully looking at jack's card, his scribbly print wishing you well and a doodle of yourself and him, you find the two of them in the living room; jack's on the carpet, busied by legos, while aaron's on the couch, watching some show on the television.

aaron notices you before jack does, raising an eyebrow slightly in question - silently seeking confirmation on how you are feeling now.

you give him a nod, and he seems to relax more against the back of the couch. as you join him, jack's eyes lift.

"c'mere," you pat the empty spot between you and aaron, and soon enough, jack's sandwiched between the two of you, curled more so into your side. aaron grabs the remote, clicking off the tv.

"thank you so much for the card." you place a kiss on the top of his head, your arm going around his shoulders and giving him a squeeze. "you're the sweetest, have i ever told you that?"

"all the time." jack says, his emphasis making you laugh gently. but concern quickly fills his face, his eyes a bit troubled. "are you sick?"

you shake your head, brushing some hair away from his forehead. "nope."

the concern is now replaced by confusion. his eyebrows furrow, making him look extremely like this father. "why'd you throwed up?"

"well..." you exchange a look with aaron, glancing at him overtop jack's head. there's a smile tugging at his lips, a small sparkle in his eyes. "sometimes... it happens. when you're going to have a baby."

it takes jack a few seconds to internalize what you've just told him. but his head whips up to look at you, and then aaron, and then back to you. his eyes are wide. "a baby?"

"a baby." aaron confirms, arching an eyebrow in question. "any objections to being a big brother?"

"no!" jack vigorously shakes his head, his face lighting up even more, grinning from ear to ear. "really?!"

you grin right back. "really."

jack nearly jumps right onto you in excitement, aaron's hands flying out to catch him so the fall isn't as forceful. his gentle warning of careful, is barely audible over jack's next inquiry.

"is it a girl?!"

"we don't know yet," aaron answers, his voice catching slightly which prompts your gaze to switch to him. there's tears threatening his eyes, pooling at his waterline. you swear, you've never seen him so happy.

you help him, adding on, "we'll find out in a few more weeks."

jack nods at this information, still buzzing. "i really really want a sister. but a brother would be super cool too."

aaron nudges jack with his elbow, lips quirking into a smile. "i really, really do too. but more than anything, a healthy baby is what we want."

"a healthy baby." jack agrees, with a small nod of his head. his arms wrap around yourself, burying his face slightly into your abdomen. "that's so cool! i can't wait."

now it's your turn to look at aaron, tearful.

somehow, now that jack is aware, your family feels more complete. you and aaron have talked about growing your family, have discussed it with jack, for as long as you can remember - what it'll be like, having another little hotchner running around and causing havoc, potential names have been tossed around, jack wants to teach his expertises, legos and soccer. you’re eager to see a newborn in aaron’s arms, the new-dad-to-another glow present in him. at the time, it was distant; all memories to hopefully be made someday.

that time, that someday, has finally arrived. and if jack's reaction is anything to go by, you just know, the two of them will the absolute best of friends.

you can’t wait, either.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine

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ladykailitha · 1 month ago

Text

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 7

Hello!! This story is moving right along and we finally get to the training part, I don't know anything about swimming except for what I've researched so if the coaching is wrong let me know via DMs or asks, not in the comments please!

Also! Bitchy Steve is almost as good as a Wet Steve. I don't make the rules.

Eddie does.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Some weekends were better than others when it came to sitting by the pool and watching his friends swim. He watch Eddie glide soundlessly through the water, like a shark sensing its prey, and wished he could get into the pool with them.

But it was just impossible not to replay the rushing water surrounding him as he sunk to the bottom of the pool. He had been told time and time again by doctors that he shouldn’t be able to remember that, as he had been unconscious when it happened.

So what if it was his imagination or whatever. The fact was he couldn’t have the water be higher than his head when both feet were planted on the floor of the pool. Yes, there were shallow ends of the pool where it was only three, four, or even five feet, but his brain kept telling him it was a lie. That the water would engulf him again and he would drown.

And this time he would die.

The fact that all that shit was irrational as hell didn’t matter. Steve figured that’s what bothered Tommy the most about it. That it was all such bullshit. It shouldn’t have mattered. But it did.

That and Robin was the one to dive and save him, when Tommy had froze.

They were having a small celebration congratulating Eddie on finishing his five hundred hours of community service. His last day was on a Wednesday because of the weird amount of hours. Hopper was there, Joyce and Murray, too. Wayne. All of the friends he had made working there. Robin, Nancy, Jonathan, the kids. And of course Steve.

About half way through the party Eddie sidled up to him and bumped him with his shoulder. “You going to miss me, Harrington?”

Steve let out a laugh. “Miss getting soaked to the skin every Saturday? Not a chance in hell.”

Eddie smiled and then chewed his lip for a moment. He had been thinking about getting to use the pool every week for three months and how that was ending now. He had been thinking about how much he would miss everyone, but especially Steve.

“You’ve seen me swim for a few weeks now,” he hedged, “do you really think I’ve got a chance at the Olympics?”

Steve turned to him in shock. Eyes wide and jaw on the floor. “Fuck, Eds, given proper training I think you could outswim me.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. He remembered what his uncle had said about Steve before the accident. That ‘the greatest of all time’ was thrown around a lot. And Steve thought he could top that?

“And you’d be the one to train me?” he asked nervously. “No on else?” Because that was the other issue. He had heard horror stories about how the coaches were snobs and how they would look down at him as a charity case.

“Oh yeah,” Steve said excitedly. “Joyce was telling me about this program where the rec center will pay for all the lessons, the competitions, and even the travel expenses. Robin told me that they had something similar when she started swimming, too. Hell, even Max is thinking of doing it. So it would be me coaching you and her and you would have your own time slots and everything.”

Eddie laughed at how fast that little statement was. He could tell Steve was really excited about it. “Okay. On one condition.”

Steve cocked his head to the side as Eddie pulled out a business card out of his pocket and handed it to him.

Dr. Rhys Hughes, Psychiatrist and Licensed Therapist.

“This is a friend of mine’s dad,” Eddie explained. “He specializes in phobias. I don’t know if he can help you get back in the water, but at least you’ll be able to process what happened to you. He said he’s even willing to do it for free, so you can get the help you need.”

Steve ran his thumb over the raised print and thought about it. It was a small price to pay, he thought, to get Eddie into the Olympics. And who knows, maybe he could get back into the water with him.

He stuck out his hand for Eddie to shake. “I think you’ve got yourself a deal.”

The answering smile was blinding as Eddie shook his hand.

Steve stood with Joyce at the front of the rec center, nervously chewing on the skin around his nails.

“Stop that!” she said, smacking his hands away. “He’ll be here.”

He wished she had her confidence. Hell he wished he any confidence at all at this point. He used to have fucking swagger. But now days he was just a bundle of nerves.

“When is your first appointment with Dr. Hughes?” she asked, mostly to get his mind off the fact that Eddie was running late.

“Tomorrow after my last class,” he replied, shoving his hands in his pockets to avoid the temptation of chewing on his fingers.

“To be honest,” he continued, “I think I’m more worried about my appointment then I am coaching Eddie. Coaching is easy, processing my trauma? Not so much.”

She gave his arm a squeeze but before she could say anything, Eddie’s van roared into the parking lot and skidded into a close parking spot. His van stuck out among the BMW, Mercedes, and Lexus cars that were the other coaches cars. Hell, even Steve had his BMW from when he got his first gold.

Eddie leapt out of his van and dashed up to them. “Oh my god, I am so sorry, I had to drop Wayne off work because his truck wouldn’t start. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re okay, Eddie,” Joyce soothed. “We need to get the paper work for the scholarship taken care of before you get into the pool. As always, Robin will be assisting Steve, he’s gotten permission to use her.”

Eddie and Steve followed her into her office where Steve and Eddie filled out a mountain’s worth of paper work between them.

Then they handed it all to Joyce who took it from them with a smile. “Go have fun. It’s Coaches Matthews and Ford today with Hannah and Lisa.”

Steve groaned. Andrew Ford and Haley Matthews were the worst of the coaches. They were utter snobs who thought their little darlings were God’s gift to swimming, when in reality they hadn’t even medaled in a meet the whole three years they had been coaching Hannah and Lisa.

“Oh come on, now,” Joyce admonished. “They aren’t that bad. You won’t even be in the same pool. Andy and Haley will be in the pool at the far end, while you and Eddie will be in the pool next to the endless pool area. So I’m sure everything will be fine.”

“Come on Eddie,” Steve said, waving him along and Eddie fell in step beside him.

“Um...” Eddie said, chewing on his bottom lip, “these coaches are going to be worse than Joyce thinks, aren’t they?”

Steve let out a long sigh. “Yeah, they are. But as she pointed out we will only see them coming and going, so that will limit our interactions.”

“So what is an endless pool?” Eddie asked as they neared the dressing rooms.

Steve grinned. “I love it. It’s basically a small pool that has currents running so it can test your strength and endurance. I use it all the time to keep up this physique!” He motioned at his his torso and Eddie’s eyes went wide.

He just nodded as Steve chuckled.

They got to the dressing rooms to see Robin surrounded by Haley, Hannah, and Lisa. Hannah was a bleached blonde with faux tanned skin and blue eyes which was the only natural thing about her. And yes that included her breasts. Lisa was a natural blonde, but her eyes were green and she had braces. Haley was the only brunette. Her long dark hair reached the middle of her back in waves, but it was pulled up into a pony tail. Her hazel eyes were cold and calculating.

Eddie hated them on sight.

They were bombarding her with questions about why she was there, was she the coach or was she being Steve’s bitch again. Shit like that.

“The only bitch here, ladies,” Steve said with a menacing grin, “is me. And I don’t take lightly to people harassing my best friend, so you better move along.”

All three girls whirled to face him.

“Steve!” Haley purred. She walked up to him and put her hand on his arm. “We were just having a friendly chat.” She chewed on her bottom lip and batted her eyelashes up at him. “There’s nothing to see here, right?”

Eddie scoffed. “Whether that works on Steve or not, it sure the hell won’t work on me. My gay ass is totally going to report you to Joyce for harassing Robin.”

Haley released Steve’s arm like she had been burned and whipped her head to face him. She took in his long hair and tattoos peaking out of his sleeves and above his collar.

“Who let the trash in?” she huffed with an arched eyebrow.

“Honey,” Steve bit back, hand on his hip. “The only trash here is you, now why don’t they three of you run along to the losers’ pool, while Eddie, Robin, and I take the winners’ pool and never the twain shall meet? Mmk?”

If Eddie was a cartoon character he would have had his jaw on the floor, tongue lulled out, and complete heart-eyes.

Fucking hell.

“Come on, girls,” Haley said coldly. “We don’t want to mix with the have-nots.”

The three girls left, chins in the air and looking down their noses at them both.

After they had left Steve rolled his eyes. “At least we missed Andy. He’s the worst.” He turned to Robin. “You okay? That looked pretty intense when we walked around the corner.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “I thought they were going to devour you for sure.”

“I’m fine,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I wasn’t going to tell them shit, though. I hate those types of people; thinking that just because they’re rich, they must have all the talent. Especially with the fact that I made it to the Olympics and dropped out because the pressure was too great. I could outswim all of them, you wouldn’t even see them on the fucking camera. I just couldn’t take all the world’s eyes on me.”

Eddie winced. “I feel that. I’m worried about the pressure too.”

Steve put his hand on his shoulder. “You’ll do fine. I have a feeling you’ll be super nervous before hand and then just soak up the attention once you get out there.”

Eddie blushed and shoved his hair in front of his face.

“We’ll meet you at the endless pool after we get changed,” Steve told her.

Robin nodded and went to go open the room.

Steve and Eddie went into the men’s dressing room to get changed into their swimsuits. Eddie hit the showers first, with Steve taking a little bit longer to get into his shiny new coaching gear.

There was a man already there. He looked like a fucking Greek god. Olive skin, dark hair and eyes, broad shoulders. Immediately Eddie pegged him as the mysterious Andy Ford.

He chose the shower farthest from the guy and turned the water on hot. He was so focused getting completely wet that he didn’t hear the other shower turning off.

“So you’re the charity case,” came the oily voice suddenly next to him. “You’re not what I was expecting.”

Eddie slicked his hair back and turned off the water to face the guy. “Said everyone ever, dude. You aren’t special.”

“Do you really think you can learn anything from someone who can’t even leave the kiddie pool?” Andy asked, batting his eyelashes innocently.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Eddie said crossing his arms in front of his chest and putting all his weight on his back foot, to put distance between him and slimy. “But I don’t see your lot lining up to take his place.”

Andy raised an eyebrow and looked him up and down. “You’re what? Eighteen, nineteen? You’re far too old to be training for this now. You’ll only be humiliated out there. I’m just trying to save whatever dignity you have left.”

Eddie scoffed and whipped his hair back, splashing the guy in the face. “I’ve been training since I was ten, I just had a short little break there for high school.” He patted Andy’s shoulder as walked past. “Besides just how many Olympic medals do you have?”

Steve burst out laughing behind Andy. “He’s got you there, Andy. You’ve never even been to the Olympics and neither has any of your pupils. So yeah, maybe check your ego at the door.”

He turned on the shower right where Andy was standing, causing the man to shriek and run away from the sudden water hitting him, Steve’s laugh following him out of the dressing room.

Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chameleonhair @sadisticaltarts @dreamercec @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @mac-attack19

10- @aol19 @eriquin @tartarusknight @gloomysoup @morallyundefined

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #olympic steddie #olympic swimmer au

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qwimchii · 1 year ago

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Begging for Capt. Price filth 😭

𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘦 — 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘦

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘳!𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘶𝘱, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘤 — 5.1𝘬

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘳!𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵&𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘫𝘰𝘣 & 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, (𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭) 𝘴𝘪𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬?? (𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨?? 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘳… 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳), 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬-𝘪𝘯𝘴 <3

note: pure filth… someone possessed me when i wrote this idk it wasnt me u guys, istg. also, the title inspired by aphrodite by rini!

with a swirl of hot, slick shame in your stomach and a hard swallow, you glanced up from the map directions on your phone to the establishment in front of you.

you didn’t know what you were expecting. when your friend Kylie had recommended you to this place several months ago, you had rolled your eyes, nose wrinkling at the idea that some people would spend so much money on a place like this.

a couple weeks ago, several hours into your birthday party, Kylie had privately pulled you aside from the get-together to hand you a little gift bag with hot pink tissue paper scrunched up at the top. your eyes flitted from the bag to the beaming smile on her face, a nervous laugh building in the back of your throat.

“open it!” she prodded, directing your hand to the tissue paper. pushing it aside, you reached down into the bag and flexed your fingers around till you found a birthday envelope and… something else.

you pulled it out, eyes flicking over the sleek black card with a fancy, modern print etched into the front. the garden of eden.

a bitter feeling pooled into your mouth. “a business card…?”

she bounced lightly on her feet, bumbling as she shook her head, speaking with a low thrill. “remember that amazing spa and amazing masseur i was telling you about?”

she paused for dramatic effect, the grin stretching her cheeks almost comically. your brows just raised slightly in a silent offering for her to continue.

“i know how much you’ve been stressed out lately, so i got you a gift card for an intimate massage!”

at that, you stifled a groan, dismayed that your friend would give you such an expensive birthday gift. but knowing the fact that Kylie sported a louis vuitton purse and matching suitcase on that last girl’s travel trip you had, could you really be surprised?

not to mention the fact that Kylie’s husband had gifted her the keys to a new audi at her last birthday party. which was hosted on a yacht.

a tight grimace pinched your face as you recited a strained thank you, letting her pull you into a suffocating hug as she rambled on about something you weren’t really listening to.

you couldn’t help but grimace all over again as you rejoined the party. why was she going to these intimate massage places when she had a husband?

you’d find out soon you supposed, narrowing your eyes at the sleek exterior of the spa. the unmistakable logo illuminated above the trim entrance. the garden of eden.

you were ready to pull into a cracked parking lot riddled with potholes and a crumbling brick building with a neon sign that flashed obnoxiously. not this epitome of wealth.

before you could tuck your tail between your legs and flee, you braved the street, striding over the crosswalk with a confident step that slowly waned the closer you approached the intimidating entrance. by the time you swung the glass door open and stood in front of the receptionist, you were a muddle of anxiety and regret.

the receptionist glanced over the top of her computer, a look of suppressed impatience on her face when you said nothing, blubbering like a fish as she flicked two strands of hair out the way, her hair gelled back into a tight updo.

“name?” she said with a raised, perfectly manicured brow. you gave it meekly and she nodded, fingers moving over the keyboard with mechanic clacks.

“and what service are you here for today, ma’am?”

you withered where you stood. “intimate massage.”

but she just nodded, not even sparing you a glance as she slid a clipboard over the counter.

“fill this out and sign here please,” she directed, tapping an acrylic nail at the bottom of the page, eyes still trained on the screen of her computer.

you just nodded dumbly, picking up a pen as your eyes ran over the checkboxes of the page, the hair on the back of your neck bristling as you let out a squeak of surprise.

you bringed the paper closer to your eyes just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. in a list of checkboxes beneath the precursory personal information, you swallowed as you absorbed the contents.

please check the box(es) of your preference:

silent massage (no verbal cues)

verbal praise

verbal degradation

groping

choking (light/rough)

edging

orgasm denial

slapping (breasts/vagina/glutes)

clitoris play

vaginal penetration with fingers...

you felt like throwing up as the list went on, endlessly went on, and ended with a space for your signature. for your consent, you presumed, feeling nauseous as you swayed on your feet.

“ma’am?”

you head snapped up to the receptionist who was tapping a payment terminal on the counter, brows furrowed as she looked you over.

“sorry,” you said weakly, fumbling to reach into your purse and snap open your wallet, fishing out the gift card and shoving it into the machine before scrawling down the necessary information into the blanks of the document and almost closing your eyes when you checked certain boxes down the list, flushed with shame. ready to just get this over with.

“are you aware that this gift card requests for a specific masseur?”

you just nodded, the words sliding from your ears as she listed off more precautionary procedurals before finally gesturing to another glass door to the side of the front reception.

“that way please, miss. your masseur will be waiting for you at the end of the hall.”

blindly, you strode over to push the doors open, letting out a strained exhale as you walked down the hallway with careful steps, taking in the contemporary art stacked along the walls and the sweet tinge of a calming incense in the air that didn’t calm the nerves that twisted your stomach at all.

at the end of the hall, and past another set of glass double doors, you saw the broad back of a man in a black linen set talking to a shorter woman in the same uniform. when her eyes flicked to you, she ushered him away and disappeared down a different hallway. then, he turned to you, hands casually against his hips. a low curse left your lips before you could prevent it.

again, you found yourself dismayed, because you didn’t know what you were expecting. maybe, an old wrinkly masseur like in those shitty pornos your ex boyfriend used to watch. this bearded man was, undoubtedly, older than you, but ruggedly handsome in a way that made your stomach flip.

not with nerves, but with anticipation. or maybe a mix of the two.

he closed the distance between you, looking down at you from his tall height, a polite smile on his lips but a dark, knowing look in his blue eyes that flushed your cheeks.

“john price,” he said, voice rough and gravely as he offered a hand. you returned with your name shyly, letting him pull you closer as you shook his large hand that dwarfed your own.

fuck. he was hot, and that knowledge made you dizzy.

in a haze, you let him lead you further down the hallway, startling when he glanced at you from over his shoulder.

“i saw that you specially requested me, ma’am.”

“i…” you groped around for words, prickling all over with embarrassment.

“my friend,” you settled on finally, “she requested you.”

his brows rose before he trained his attention forward once more. “your friend…?”

he let out a low huff of laughter, turning on his heel as he motioned down a branching hallway lined with opaque, glass doors.

“and where are they?”

you swallowed hard, staring at him. “well… this was a birthday gift.”

he just looked amused, like he was mulling over something very thoughtfully.

“hm.”

you followed the silent directions he gave you, halting at a door in the middle of the hallway. when his hands closed around the handle, a flurrying panic seized you, and the warring emotions in your heart stumbled to the forefront.

“wait—!”

he paused, brows raised in expectation.

fuck, what were you doing? the voices in you were clambering around and loud, mind grappling with itself. you couldn’t chicken out of this now, you chided yourself, biting down on your lower lip.

or could you?

but John just huffed, twisting the door open to… a bathroom?

“all customers must take showers before service,” he explained, a shrewd smirk twisting his lips. “did the receptionist not disclose as such?”

“i—” you stumbled through your words, “no. no she did.” you just had been too nervous to listen.

you brushed past him, stepping into the pristine bathroom and slowly turning in your spot to give him a weak, strained smile.

when he didn’t close the door, just tilted his head at you, the smirk sliding from his face, a shiver slithered down your spine.

“if i can assist you in any way,” he said slowly, a considerate gaze pinning you to your spot, “please notify me.”

his words were tinged with something darker beneath the kindness of them that turned the shiver into a wrack of shudders. like there was an offer hidden within them that you could pluck out, that he wanted you to seize.

his eyes flicked to the shower behind you and you melted into a puddle of hot liquid. help you in the shower?

“m’fine,” you squeaked, unable to meet his eyes.

for an unbreathing moment, he blinked at you. then, he nodded, that polite smile flashing through his face.

“your private room will be number sixteen. down the hall on the left.”

he shut the door softly.

the breath deflated from your lungs and your shoulders slumped, a crawling heat over your skin that propelled you to strip yourself of your clothes and toss them into an untidy pile before stepping into the shower.

you let the water run over you for longer than necessary, careful to keep your hair swept out of the way as you scrubbed yourself again. then again. and again.

you didn’t know what to do with yourself and the heat that wouldn’t leave your cheeks. your stomach. the place between your thighs.

it was infuriating, and you turned the water colder and colder till you were shivering under the icy blast of water. still, that heat burned you inside and out, and the thought of that masseur wasn’t helping in the least.

he looked strong—tall and muscled. handsome. god.

you looked down to the pulsing place between your thighs and lamented. lately, you had been so pent up. life was debilitating and wrung you so dry that you couldn’t find time to have a bit of fun with a stray partner at the local bar anymore.

you deserved this. swallowing hard, you tried to convince yourself of the words when you twisted the knob of the shower, determined to shake yourself of that swirling shame that seized your insides as you dried yourself with fury.

opposite the sparkling sink was a row of robes with a plaque etched above each one instructing customers to don one instead of clothing. you jerked a lavish robe on, conscious of the way your tits were so visible beneath its silky softness, and shoved your clothes into the plastic bag from the dispenser on the sink.

you deserved this. it rang clear as you stepped out the bathroom clad in slippers and the revealing robe. you could do this.

as you stomped down the hallway, sharply turning left as he instructed, you made a beeline for room sixteen and pushed the door open.

when you stepped in, letting your weight fall against the door behind you, you stayed there, frozen in place as you watched John crouched down at some cabinets on the far side of the room. in the middle of it, there was a plush massage table that looked equally comfortable and equally ominous.

you opted for your spot pressed to the door.

“was it good?”

his abrupt question startled you as he turned with some bottles in his hands. with a flush of embarrassment, you knew they must’ve been for…

you gnawed on the inner softness of your cheek.

“good?”

his brows raised a little as he put the bottles down by the massage table. “the shower.”

your eyes widened. the shower?

he stared at you for a long moment before a gruff laugh escaped him, turning away to straighten the covering on the massage table.

“was the shower to your liking, ma’am?”

you gaped, mouth opening and then closing, fishing around to see if there was some sort of innuendo in his words. a little voice in you mewled that there must’ve been, otherwise your face wouldn’t be so hot like this.

you mumbled some semblance of an affirmative and he nodded. “good.”

when you still stayed pressed to the door, cowering like a little animal, he gave you a soft look. “would you like me to put your items into a locker, ma’am?”

you dropped the plastic bag and your purse by the door, nudging them into the corner of the room with your foot.

“no thank you.”

you still stayed pressed to the door and he leaned his hip against the table.

“are you alright ma’am?”

“mhmm.”

an ocean of goosebumps perked up on your skin when he began edging closer to you.

“what brought you in here today, love?”

it was such an intimate question, you didn’t really know what to say. you took in the sharpness of his jaw, broad shoulders, and the gentle outline of his muscled torso beneath the thin cloth of his shirt.

“stress,” you squeaked, and he cocked his head.

“yeah? been feelin’ pent up?”

your skin was set alight. he was only an arm’s length away now, stopping at a distance that was still professional but felt smothering. you couldn’t breath, hyper aware when his eyes dropped to the swell of your breasts beneath the thin robe.

suddenly, you felt naked. and embarrassingly wet.

“mhmm.”

his eyes flicked back up to meet yours, so thick and dark that your thighs clenched together. “don’t worry, darlin’. i can help you relax.”

he offered a hand to you, and with a shy feeling, you curled your hand into his, letting him gently tug you toward the massage table.

“we’ll take it slow, yeah?”

you nodded meekly, untying the sash of your robe with clumsy hands. when the ropes fell to your sides, you stood stock still, looking up at him meekly as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“sorry,” you said weakly, guilt thick and cold in your gut for making his job so difficult.

“s’alright,” he coaxed, not a crack of impatience in his face.

when you still made no move to remove it yourself, he ghosted a hand over the waist of the robe. “may i?”

you nodded, screwing your eyes shut when he tugged it from your shoulders, just the rustling of the robe falling to the floor and his calm breaths filling the room. a breeze enveloped your exposed skin, and you jolted when his warm knuckles brushed over your arm.

cracking your eyes open, he gestured towards the massage table, and you eased yourself onto it, nerves twisting hot and livid in your stomach, staring up at the ceiling and refusing to look anywhere else.

stiff as a board against the table, you were almost relieved when he stepped away from you, switching on some music in the background. it wasn’t lusty and sensual like you thought it would be, but lilted with a calming resonance. like something that you would meditate to every now and then.

you heard him step closer to you once more, saw him in your peripheral, but nonetheless you jolted when his fingers ghosted over your bare stomach.

“just relax,” he said softly, eyes trained on your face as he rubbed over your stomach, sliding up beneath your breasts.

you held your breath, confused when his warm touch never made contact with the plush of your tits, but instead dipped back down and skipped over your cunt, sliding over your thighs and squeezing lightly.

gnawing on your lower lip, you stole a glance at the easy look on his face, meeting his gaze with a confused one. he lifted his other hand to rest on your forehead, rubbing at the spot between your eyebrows.

oh. that felt good.

“close your eyes,” he commanded, and you complied immediately, so distracted by his fingertips massaging over the tense spots on your head that you almost missed when his knuckles stroked your inner thighs.

“m’nervous,” you admitted finally, feeling loosened by the ministrations over your scalp.

he just hummed, moving his other hand from your inner thighs. there was a warm touch on your pubic bone, just above your cunt, and your hips jumped with a gasp. “just listen to the music.”

“i can make you feel good,” he whispered, and you shivered, face flushing when the wetness between your thighs was beginning to grow uncomfortable.

it felt wrong to be under this touch of this older man. a stranger, who you were letting run his hands all over you.

the thought just made you shudder, stomach in knots when he slid his hand up your stomach and gently kneaded your breasts.

you whimpered, arching into the touch blindly, and he hummed in approval.

“tha’s it love.”

you released a shaky exhale under the little burst of praise from his lips, and a needy voice in you demanded for more.

then, the warm sensations left your body, leaving you cold and wanting on the table, and your eyes snapped open, finding him already looking down at you with amusement as he unstoppered a bottle of… something.

he poured it into his hands, rubbing them together, warming it, you thought dizzily, as he slid his hot and oiled hands over your body, pushing down with a pressure that had your mind spinning as your head thudded back against the table.

his movements became bolder as more whimpers fell from your lips, squeezing your tits, the flesh of your stomach, then your thighs, before he picked up the bottle and poured a little oil straight onto your naval.

“spread your thighs,” he commanded in a low tone that had your knees snapping open immediately, much to your embarrassment.

he cooed a praise that was lost to your ears as he spread the oil over your naval, then your inner thighs, completely neglecting your cunt as it pulsed angrily.

“mister—” you struggled for words as your hips bucked up, feeling so so embarrassed at how needy you were growing, all his touches over your body heating you up and drowning you in a never-ending, spirling pool of want.

“you can call me John,” he said, pressing your hips back down to the table with unnerving patience. “or sir, if that’s what you like, darlin’.”

you didn’t miss the suggestiveness in his gravelly tone, smothering a yelp when he tugged your thighs wider, hooking an arm beneath one to stretch your hips further apart.

when he craned his neck down to observe your cunt, just staring unblinkingly, you were flushed with embarrassment.

“please—” you begged weakly, squirming a little on the table.

he looked down at you from over his shoulder, and the lust blown look in his face made you shudder.

is this what all appointments were like? for all customers? you thought dizzily, understanding how someone could get addicted to a place like this. a place where John was.

“thought you wanted this love,” he said slowly, and you nodded eagerly.

“touch me, please—”

in a quick movement, he slapped your inner thigh, palm connecting with the side of your pussy lips on the way, and you jolted against the table, a loud moan torn from your lips as the sting sizzled out into pleasurable fizzles all over your skin.

“thought you wanted to be teased,” he said softly, like he was being kind when he rubbed over the stinging spot. “edged. slapped. degraded.”

his fingers ghosted over the shell of your clit and you gasped, hips twitching up into the relief of the featherlight touch.

“s’what you filled out on the contract,” he grunted, voice considerably more aggressive when he pinched your clit lightly. a little cry left your lips and he hummed, a smile on his lips as he watched you squirm.

“such a depraved little thing.” his head ducked down to stare down at your cunt again, like he was talking to it, as his fingers brushed over your throbbing cunt.

“so fuckin’ wet already, slut.”

then, he slapped your cunt, gentler than before, but then he did it again, and you twisted on the table, tears springing up into your eyes at the pleasurable sting that traveled straight to the heat in your stomach.

“please,” you practically sobbed, clit pulsing and throbbing and god—

he thumbed away the tears on your cheeks, gently shushing you as he stepped back to pour some more oil into his hands before rubbing his whole palm over your cunt, oiling the slick wetness of your sex and completely ignoring the whimpers and whines on your lips as he did as he pleased.

or maybe, as you pleased, since you were the customer, but as you arched into his touch and the sensual, torturous circles he massaged into your clit, you couldn��t help but feel like it didn’t matter what you wanted anymore.

you were under his mercy as he held you down, snaking two hands around your wrists and binding them against your tits to keep you from squirming so much as he played with your clit.

“good?”

the gentle check-in spun your head and you nodded dumbly, looking up at him in a blurry haze. with your reassurance, he smiled softly, pinning you down with something dangerously close to an affectionate look before more filth was spilling from his mouth.

“this just needed a little attention, didn’t it, pretty girl?”

even if his eyes were on you, you knew he was talking about your cunt, and the lewd way he said it had you choking on an affirming moan.

“yeah, tha’ was all,” he said, so rough and delicious that the sound of his voice made your cunt clench around nothing. painfully empty.

“just needed a lil’ attention, a quick orgasm, and you’ll be good as new, hmm?”

mind dizzy, you could barely respond to him, brows pinched as you stuttered and fumbled around for a response.

but he continued without you. “needed an older and experienced man to take care of you, hm?”

“fuck,” you cried, grinding your hips against his touch, eyes rolling back into your head because all the sensations felt blinding.

“suck a dirty slut,” he cooed, slapping your clit in a couple wet smacks that had your hips bucking up before he was rubbing his fingers against you again, faster this time.

he released your wrists and slid hand to your jaw, pressing down on your jugular as some of his fingers teased your lower lip. easily, you conceded, sliding your mouth open so he could press two fingers deep down your hot throat, screwing your eyes shut as you tried not to choke and just suck.

“good girl,” he grunted roughly, sending you spiraling when his hand crept further down your cunt and stretching your sopping walls with a big finger. then, as soon as his first finger was buried to the hilt, he was slipping in another one, cunt squelching and sucking around his fingers as he fucked you with his hand.

“oh John—” you couldn’t help the breathy, warbled gasp around a mouthful of his fingers, heart jumping at the way his gaze just darkened down at you.

“so greedy,” he admonished at a whisper, and you whimpered, swirling your tongue around his fingers as you reached out to anchor on something, anything, only satiated when your hand came into contact with the fabric of his pants, clutching at the linen in a tight fist.

you felt something hard pressing against your knuckles, eyes sliding over to take in the swollen bulge in his pants.

with a little whimper, you brushed over it mindlessly, and John hissed at the touch, sliding his hand out your mouth and back around your throat, pushing your head firmly back down to the table.

“s’off limits, darlin’,” he reminded you, breathlessly, though you didn’t miss the way his grinded his hips into your palm.

you distantly remember the contract outlining something about not touching the masseurs in return—that it was a strictly single avenue for pleasure.

but knowing it was forbidden somehow made it so much better.

“wanna suck you off,” you whispered softly, blindly pawing at the waistband of his pants, and he practically growled, hand tightening around your neck.

“hungry, are you?” he pressed a thumb into your mouth and you sucked it in eagerly, humming, shuddering when his fingers curled into that sweet spot inside you.

breath stolen somewhere far away, you ground your hips into every curl of his fingers, eyelids drooping even though you fought them to stay awake. in the meantime, his hand retreated from your throat, disappearing somewhere off the table. then, your head was being turned, and you were dizzily faced with the leaking head of his thick cock almost brushing against the tip of your nose.

you hummed, immediately craning your neck forward to brush your lips, slick with spit, over the head of his cock, then beneath it, lips ghosting in little kisses at his frenulum, and you wholly enjoyed the way that he shivered.

“c’mon, pretty,” he coaxed, firmly grabbing a fistful of your hair. “suck me off with that cute little throat.”

dropping your jaw open, tongue out in an offering, he immediately slid down your throat, and you moaned around him, letting him press all the way down to the hilt in one go.

“good girl, you can take it, you will take it, ” he rasped, sounding almost pained as he ground the thick tip against the soft skin at the very back of your throat. when you choked, throat seizing hard around him, he let out a low groan and pulled his hips back so that the very tip of him rested against your lips. for a moment, you struggled for breath, torn between the way he was massaging your g-spot perfectly and the drooling cock waiting for the heat of your mouth right in front of your face.

“more,” you whined, throat already strained from abuse, craning forward to wrap your lips around the tip and suckling so that his hips jerked forward into your mouth.

he pressed the side of your head firmly down into the table so that you were immobilized—so that he could rut his hips smoothly into your hot and tight mouth like it was his own personal cocksleeve, and just the thought of it had your clit twitching, cunt spasming because you were getting dangerously close.

“close?” he grunted, and you hummed weakly around him, sucking as best as you could when mind-numbing waves of pleasure threatened to overtake you with every curl of his fingers.

before you could protest, he pulled out of your mouth and released your head against the table. by the time you were picking up your head to peer at him, he was already kneeling at the edge of the table, curling two arms around your thighs to pull you closer to his waiting mouth.

then, his tongue was on your clit, making out with your pussy in ways that made your back arch up off the table.

“John!” you gasped, curling your legs around his head so that you could keep him flush to your cunt.

in a hazy, distant part of your mind, you were faintly aware that the contract said nothing about eating out but—

“s’not allowed,” you reminded him between breathy moans, words sluggish and blurred together.

he just hummed, dark blue eyes flickering up to you with almost a sinister smile on his lips as his tongue swirled around your clit. “only for special customers.”

you choked on a moan, letting your head fall back as one hand twisted in your own hair, the other in John’s, tugging just to keep a grip on reality as he worked you through a mind-numbing orgasm that had you seeing pure white before you were crashing back down, hyper sensitive when his lips were still glued to your cunt.

jolting against the table, you shook with sobs as he pleasured to your last trembling high, suckling in your clit one last time before he leaned back, beard and chin glistening with your slick.

between wracking pants, your eyes betrayed you, sliding shut as you sank into the massage table, falling completely boneless.

“ma’am?” his voice was husky with use as he wrapped a hand gently around your ankle before releasing.

forcing your eyes open, you were blessed with the sight of him unbuttoning the front of his shirt, exposing the tone of his torso and the dark thatch of hair near his naval. then, your eyes dropped to his flushed, neglected cock between his thighs, looking so very painful and thick and suckable.

humming, you swung up on the table and slid to your knees on the floor, crawling towards him till you were nestled between his shoes.

you looked up at him, heels pressed against your ass and neck craning back to meet his debauched gaze, cracked wide open with want and need. then, you licked your lips, giving him a good show as you wrapped a hand innocently around his cock, giving it a little tug, satisfied from the way it twitched in your touch.

“how many customers have done this for you?” you asked, shy as you eyed the pearly beads of precum that slid off his tip and onto your waiting tits. he cursed in a throaty, low tone.

“few,” he admitted, nudging his hips forward so the head of his cock brushed against your lips.

your eyes fluttered up to him again. “please fuck my throat, sir.”

“fuck,” he curse, thick and dark as he crept a hand into your hair and pulled taught so that your head was pulled back, the underside of his cock against your plush cheek.

“m’gonna ruin you darlin’,” he whispered, a threat and a promise that you eagerly took as he guided his cock into your waiting mouth, poised and wide open for him.

im ngl i didnt really know how to end this one bc im not sure how much i like how i wrote this ff and it was going on for too long and alfjslirjfsij (i do already have ideas for a part 2 if anyone is interested in more masseur!John because the concept certainly intrigues me... 🌚)

taglist: @ivybeeloved @keiva1000

#captain john price #john price #john price fluff #john price smut #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price smut #captain price x reader #captain price #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic

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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year ago

Text

Case of the Ex: Part I

Summary: Just as you decide to explore your feelings for Ari, an unexpected blast from your past sends you reeling...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Ex-boyfriends, Discussions of Weight, Discussions of Body Image, Mentions of Disordered Eating, Brief Discussions of Race, Pet Names, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to @curls-and-eyeliner for helping me brainstorm. This story is part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“So do you trust me now, Mr. Carmichael?” You tease as you carefully place several books into your customer’s reusable shopping bag while you wait on the receipt to print. “Because the way I see it, I haven’t steered you wrong yet.”

“Here we go.” The older man grumbles, playfulling rolling his eyes as you punch in the last few numbers to complete the transaction.

“My recommendation track record speaks for itself.” You can’t help but laugh at the look he gives you. As if you two didn’t have the same conversation at least once a month. “I just want you to give me my props.”

“Arrogance isn’t a good look on you, young lady.”

“Who said anything about arrogance?” Your eyes go comically wide as you lean into the theatrics by pretending to look around your shop. “Certainly not me. I’m just a small business owner, standing in front of the best retired florist in all of Bell’s Creek, humbly requesting that he finally give me my flippin’ flowers.”

Mr. Carmichael heaves a weary sigh. “Fine, fine. You were right.” He steps back from the counter to give a dramatic bow. “Jean Hanff Korelitz’s Jacob Bonner was strong enough to rival Stephen King’s own Mort Rainey and Thad Beaumont. Your literary tastes reign superior once again.”

“And there it is.” You rip the receipt from the printer and drop it into the bag before handing it over so that you can rest your elbows on the counter. “Now was that really that bad? It’s not like I asked for one of your Sapphire Sweetheart bouquets, after all.”

“That entire moment was so positively excruciating I almost didn’t live through it.” He keeps his tone light as he slings the bag over his shoulder. “Anyway, same time next month?”

“Can’t wait.” You respond with a wink and a wave. “Wouldn’t miss it. And please give Millie my love.”

“Will do!” He calls behind him as he heads out the door.

Once he’s gone you decide to stand up and stretch, raising your arms over your head. You’re not satisfied until you hear the sound of your spine popping. And then you up the ante, twisting your body from side to side before bending down and touching your toes.

You hold the position for a moment, content to let yourself dangle until you hear the chime of the front door, signaling the arrival of another customer. Which was great news for you, especially since business had been kind of slow this morning.

“Welcome to Baubles & Quills!” You chirp as you quickly right yourself. “How can I he–” The words die on your lips when you get a good look at the person standing just inside the doorway.

“Hiya, Cupcake.”

It’s a nickname you haven’t heard in years. And it had only ever been used by one man. The same one who had broken your heart and left a wound so deep you’d been almost convinced that it would never heal.

And yet there he was. Standing right there in your shop. Somehow even more handsome than you remembered.

Mason J. Prescott.

The seconds tick by, turning into minutes as a loaded silence washes over you both. Whatever you’d been expecting, it hadn’t been this. A visit from your ex-boyfriend had not been on today’s bingo card.

Grinning, Mason closes the gap between you. His long, denim clad legs covering the distance in a few easy strides. Once he’s in front of you he removes his Stetson pinchfront and sits it on the counter before taking the opportunity to run his fingers through his thick black locks.

“Damn if you ain’t a sight for sore eyes.” Still grinning, his gray eyes give you a thorough onceover. It’s a blatant, slow moving perusal that lets you know he likes what he sees. “I swear they don’t make girls as pretty as you out in Brickfield. Must be something in the water.”

“Uh…hi.” You stammer as shock continues to course its way through you.

“You lookin’ to catch some flies there, Cupcake?”

Shit. That meant you were staring. Probably with your mouth open. It was an old bad habit that, up until today, you could’ve sworn you had licked.

“Sorry.” You cough, forcing your brain to reboot.

“No need to be sorry.” While Mason’s easygoing charm used to calm your nerves, today it seemed to be doing the opposite.

“What brings you..?” You trail off to take a steadying breath. “I didn’t realize you were back in town.”

What the hell was he doing here?

“I just flew in last night. Caught a red-eye home from Buffalo, New York..” He decides to explain further after you flash him a quizzical glance. “Dad had me working on a business deal up there. It was a quick trip with an even quicker turnaround.”

Oh. “Got it.”

“Yeah.” He chuckles, scrubbing a hand over his five-o’clock shadow. “My, uh, plan had been to fly back out to Brickfield first and then make the drive. But after speaking with my Mama no less than six nerve-racking times in the span of an hour, I figured I’d be better off coming straight here. And I’ll be damned if it doesn’t feel good to be back.” He raps his knuckles on the wood.

“I’m sure they’re all very happy you’re home.” You weren’t really sure what else to say to that, so you kept it simple. Although it still didn’t explain his reason for showing up at what was arguably the equivalent of your doorstep.

“Maybe. Some more than others, I suppose.” His voice drops an octave as he pins you with a knowing look. “Any chance you might be one of those people?”

Your teeth begin to gnaw at your bottom lip as your palms go damp with sweat. Why on earth would he care or not about whether you were happy to see him or not? Especially since you hadn’t spoken in–

“I’ve thought of you damn near every day over the last five years.”

“Mace…” His former nickname comes on the heels of a weary sigh.

“I’m serious, sweets.”

“Didn’t say you weren’t.”

You did not want to do this today. It wasn’t fair or right of him to think he could just pick up and waltz back into your life as if he expected your feelings for him to be the same.

Things had changed since then. You had changed. Everything was different now, starting and ending with you.

“I’ve been thinking…” Now it’s his turn to sigh as he squares his shoulders. “Maybe we made a mistake.”

“Ha!” You let out an unladylike snort, your hand flying to your mouth in an attempt to catch it. “I don’t believe for a second that I’m the reason your Mama pressed you to hussle your ass back to our quaint little town.”

“I came back because I needed to deal with a family matter. But I was thinking about staying because the one that got away also happens to own a shop that’s just down the road from my parent’s ranch.” His sobering admission is enough to send you reeling all over again.

Mason then places his hand atop yours, allowing the slightly roughened pad of his thumb to stroke along the ridge of your knuckles.

“I’m afraid I don’t take your meaning.” You give him your best haughty southern belle impression. “But if you’d like, I can point you in the direction of our Self-Help books. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of helpful literature on learning from your past mistakes. Might I recommend John Purkiss’ bestseller, The Power of Letting Go? I hear it’s a real page turner.”

Your newfound snippiness has your ex-boyfriend rocking back on his heels. He even appears a little stunned. Good.

You weren’t the same meek young woman he’d left behind all those years ago. Something that Mason James Prescott would do well to remember.

“Sheesh, Cupcake.” Your former flame presses a hand over his heart, feigning as if you’d wounded him. “You might’ve shed a few extra pounds when I wasn’t looking, but I see you've also gained a little sass too.”

You fold your arms over your chest as you take a moment to process what feels very much like a backhanded compliment. God’s gift to Bell’s Creek didn’t know it yet, but you were getting dangerously close to kicking his pert ass out of your shop.

As if sensing that he’s made an error, he quickly clears his throat. “All I’m saying is that I recognize that I’m dealing with a new and improved you.” He moves to reach for you again before apparently thinking better of it.

“But forgive me if I have a hard time thinking of you as anything but the doe-eyed freshman who wrote poetry behind the bleachers. That is, when she wasn’t busy taking home top prize at the state fair’s pie baking contest year after year.” Mason offers you his own award winning smile for good measure, highlighting the dimple on his left cheek.

Suddenly, the room feels a little too hot for your comfort. You didn’t like feeling this unsettled. These days the only man who was allowed to get under your skin was your handsome, overbearing bounty hunter.

It was a right that he’d earned, whether you liked it or not. And there were honestly times when you damn well didn’t. But you’d also be lying if you said that you weren’t learning to live with it.

“I could sure go for a slice of your famous brambleberry pie right about now.” Mason keeps his deep voice low and even as he takes a tentative step around the side of your cash register, which is the only thing currently separating the two of you. “But I’d be willing to settle for some cherry pie and a scoop of homemade vanilla bean ice cream over at Holtman’s Diner on West 5th if you’d be open to join me.”

“So I can watch you stuff your face with pie while I nibble on a depressing fruit salad from a can like a sad little rabbit?” You scoff. “Pass.”

Mason huffs out an annoyed breath, his brows drawing together. “You were the one who always complained about shit going to your hips. Meanwhile, I was just doing my part to be supportive. Isn’t that what any good man is supposed to do for his woman?”

Apparently you weren’t the only one experiencing a few ruffled feathers here. Fantastic.

“I’m not sure it’s allowed to fall under the category of being supportive –” you respond, complete with appropriate air quotes “– if you’re also the one constantly pointing it out.”

“We were kids, baby!” His hands fly to his waist so that he’s now standing akimbo. “Just a couple of stupid kids worried about stupid shit like football practice and prom pictures. I felt like I was walking around with the world on my shoulders back then. It wasn’t as easy for me as everybody liked to think.” He shifts his weight, resting his hip against the cashwrap. “Nobody understood the pressures of growing up as a Prescott. Nobody even tried…”

‘Oh yeah?’ Your internal voice all but screams. ‘Try being one of only five black kids in your entire goddamned graduating class. But do you see me crying? Nope.’

At any rate, you didn’t sign up for this month’s Prescott Pity Party. So you were about to politely request that he miss you with that bullshit.

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to carry so much alone, Mace. I really am.” You look down at your feet as you try to drum up a way to usher him out the door without touching him. But the next thing you know, he’s suddenly standing directly in front of you.

“Except for you.” He reaches out to clutch at your biceps, his big hands smoothing up and down your bare arms. “You saw past the spoiled little rich kid act when no one else did. And I didn’t appreciate you like I should have.”

Your heart speeds up as you take notice of the way his eyes darken. He’s so close that you can see the light smattering of freckles dotting the bridge of his slightly crooked nose. If memory served, he’d broken it during a heated football game.

One where he claimed an opposing player made several crude comments about your body and choice of skirt. At the time you’d considered him a hero. But now…

Now you saw him for what he was. Another run-of-the-mill Prescott pretty boy. All style and no substance. That was the crux of it.

Right? ��

“Why are you doing this?” Your question comes out weaker than you’d like, but at least it doesn’t waver.

“Because I want you to have dinner with me tonight. For old times’ sake.” His determined gaze bores into your own as all of the oxygen slowly dissipates from the room. “Please, Cupcake?”

Just then, you hear the chiming of the door, signaling the arrival of yet another customer. Spell broken, you take a fortifying step back – needing to put some distance between you and the town’s golden boy.

“Am I interrupting something?” The sound of a familiar voice has your already volatile emotions spiraling in the complete opposite direction as a sense of relief blooms in your chest.

Saved by the damn bell. Thank the Lord.

“Yeah.” Mason snaps at the same time you throw out a swift “nope”.

“Bird?”

Of course your gruff bounty hunter would defer to you on this one – for which you were grateful. You turn your attention to him, not missing the tick in his chiseled jaw.

Now that you saw them together, Ari appeared to have a good inch in height on your former lover. Aside from that, their builds were pretty similar. Instead it was the glaring difference in their personalities that managed to separate one from the other.

“It’s fine, Ari.”

“Bird?” Mason’s lip curls in an almost sneer as his hands drop to his sides. “Is that what you go by now? It’s…cute.” He tacks on the last part when you respond with a simple shrug.

If you were being honest, you didn’t much care how he felt or not. You just wanted him gone so that you could actually breathe again.

“Ari, huh?” He turns to give your man his full attention as realization finally dawns. “You must be that rent-a-cop my father was telling me about. Said you blew into town looking for Martin Westbrook’s sorry ass.”

“Not quite, pal. But you’re almost there.” Ari spares a bored glance in the direction of his would-be rival. But he doesn’t say anything. You knew without him telling you that he was busy assessing the situation. It was something he had a habit of doing anywhere he went.

Especially when found himself face-to-face with a dick like Mason Prescott.

“Well, you won’t find him here, buddy.” Your ex gives him a dismissive nod. “So why don’t you see yourself out? The lady and I were just in the middle of catching up before you took it upon yourself to interrupt.”

An uncomfortable silence ensues as both men stare each other down, each refusing to blink. The tension grows thicker with each passing moment. And it remains that way until you move to step between them.

“Mace is an old friend who stopped by for a chat.” You tell Ari, jamming your nervous hands in your pockets. “But we were just wrapping up so I could get back to doing inventory.”

It was a lie. And you recognized that Ari was someone who deserved a better, more in-depth explanation than the basic one that you just gave him. But for now it would simply have to do. At least until you got your bearings.

“But what about that pie?” Mason pouts, obviously upset by the prospect of you kicking him out. “Don’t leave me to eat alone, Cupcake.”

“Cupcake? Wow.” Ari scoffs under his breath, not bothering to his disapproval.

“Old friend, old nickname.” You hiss, somehow feeling even more self-conscious than you already did. “Now that we’ve established all that, I think it’s best if you two peaches get a move-on. I’ve got a busy day ahead of me.”

Needing some space, you attempt to shoo them out the door. But unfortunately, you might as well have better luck trying to herd a couple of cats. Lucky you.

“What about lunch?” Your man growls. Apparently he didn’t take too kindly to being thrown out either.

“Too busy. Gotta cancel. Sorry you came out all this way, but these books aren’t gonna stock themselves so…” You throw your arms in the air. “It is what it is.”

Instead of accepting his dismissal, Ari takes a step towards you. He doesn’t stop until he’s in front of you, his body eclipsing your smaller frame and effectively blocking you from Mason’s view.

“Did you eat today, baby?” He asks as one big hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, giving you an affectionate squeeze. Some of the stiffness in his shoulders eases when you give him a little nod. “Good. What’d you have?”

“A piece of toast and a hard boiled egg.”

“Alright.” Warmth pools in your belly when your sweet bounty hunter hands over a plastic bag filled with what feels suspiciously like a sandwich and chips. “It’s a grilled chicken caesar wrap. Best they had since you said you don’t like that chipotle spread. Also got you some sea salt and vinegar chips, some cuke and onion salad, and a cookie.”

Christ. This man was simply too good for you. Moments like these only served to remind you that you truly didn’t deserve him.

“Thank you.” You murmur once you finally manage to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“I’m gonna need you to eat every last bite for me.” He tells you, his intoxicating blue eyes dropping to your lips. “So that I can fully enjoy taking a bite out of you later.” Thankfully, he's thoughtful enough to whisper the last bit. Making it clear that it was for your ears only.

“Okay, Ari.”

Nodding, he shifts his attention back to an increasingly annoyed Mason. But while there’s no way he could’ve missed the moment you shared with Ari just now, he chooses to stew in silence. Which is absolutely fine by you.

“Call me when you lock up.” You know that Ari’s words are meant for you even though his focus remains entirely on the other man taking up space in your tiny lobby.

“I’ll see you around, Cupcake.” Mason smiles, but this time you notice that it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I can’t wait to find out if you’re still as sweet as I remember.” He finishes with a knowing wink.

With that, he turns and strides out of the shop, not even bothering to hold the door for Ari. But your man doesn’t seem to mind. Instead he makes a show of shouldering through it with minimal effort.

As soon as it swings shut you hit the lock and flip the sign. And then you duck in the corner, watching as the two men exchange what you can only assume to be a few choice words right there in your parking lot.

And while you can’t make out what they’re saying, you’re convinced that it’s anything but friendly – what with them being practically nose to nose.

You stay in your spot until Ari and Mason finish their conversation. And it’s only once they’ve climbed in their respective cars and driven away that you finally slink off to the back room to lick your wounds and figure out your next move.

Fuck! You had the sinking feeling that things were about to get complicated fast. Opening the fridge, you toss your lunch inside before slamming it shut so that you can snag a homemade strawberry and cream popsicle from the freezer.

As you sit down, you feel your phone buzz in your back pocket. You fish it out, surprised to see that you’ve got a text from Ari that reads:

“Mace seems like a real stand-up guy.”

“No shit, Beast.” Rolling your eyes, you place the device facedown on a nearby table before nibbling on your sweet and creamy treat. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

END

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stinalotte · 6 months ago

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So. Basingstoke Comic Con.

This is going to be a rant. I'm German, so I have a PhD in a) complaining and b) being blunt. Perfect combination for this post. It's going to be long, so buckle up.

I give explicit permission to repost, reblog, screenshot and post to other websites, comment, tag, and add to this in any way you see fit. Feel free to write your own experiences and criticism.

It's a modified version of the feedback email I sent them. Since then, they have put out a statement which directly contradicts some of the stuff other people have told us (and have evidence for) and which blames everyone from attendees to guests to staff to the weather.

First of all, despite all the mess with the actual con, I had a ton of fun. I hadn't seen some of these people in 20 years. I hadn't met some of y'all before, and I talked to so many people this weekend. I don't regret a single meeting, hug, smile, or laugh. I do wish however for the organizers to step on legos for the rest of their lives.

Frankly, they had a huge business opportunity and they blew it. They could have established themselves as THE Stargate convention in Europe. People were taking 15-hour flights to be there. We were willing to spend hundreds, in some cases thousands of pounds. With that lineup, they blew every other current convention out of the water. If they had done this right, this would have been a huge success and an absolute no-brainer for years to come. They could have been one of those cons that sell out in minutes.

Instead, they let greed and poor organization guide them. They severely underestimated the size of the Stargate fandom. They didn't bother to learn about what the fans wanted and who the guests actually were.

A few things stood out for me:

Health and safety at the venue. No a/c, running heaters (!!) in some rooms, not enough opportunities to get water, way too many people for this size hotel. We are lucky there wasn't a panic or more severe injuries. Crowd control was non existent.

An impossible, ever-changing schedule. You can't put talks back to back, or meet&greets, or photo ops. Everybody knows you will run overtime and then the whole thing collapses. Changes were not communicated. Nobody knew what was going on.

Poorly trained staff. No staff meetings beforehand. Staff had no way to communicate with each other. Seriously, give them radios! Some of them didn't now the names of the guests or in which autograph group they were.

People could not get the things they paid for. Out of all the autographs included in my pass, I only got one, and only because a friend got it for me. [Marion, you're a fucking rockstar] I don't even want to know how many people will be attempting chargebacks on their credit cards in the coming days.

And the most important thing, the one that makes everyone I talked to the angriest: The way they treated the guests was appalling. They are such generous, hard-working people, and BCC shamelessly took advantage of that. Richard Dean Anderson was signing until after 1 am. A 74-year-old man who just wants to make his fans happy.

[BCC are now saying they were told he was a „slow signer“, aka someone who actually takes their time by talking to fans when signing autographs. Oh really? Then why did you continue to sell autographs well into Sunday when it was clear that there was no way he could get through them all in a reasonable time??]

David Blue was setting up his own autograph table. Several Atlantis actors went and got more of their headshots (by taking pictures in the photo room and printing them) because they ran out. Joe Flanigan tried to bring some order to the chaos more than once. He went full John Sheppard in the photo op room and took charge. We are lucky they're such sweet souls and didn't raise hell then and there. Nobody would have blamed them.

Staff were amazing and tried to make the best with what little support they were given. Kathleen, Finn and Nick (with the Stick!) especially, and so many others whose names I sadly didn't get. They worked so hard, never lost their humor, and tried to help as much as they could.

This disaster is entirely on management. It's a failure of leadership and an example of what not to do when you're running an event.

If you want to put on a convention, you need to go to people who have experience and listen to them. You need to attend several cons before even thinking about doing one yourself. And before, during and after, you need to take care of your people. You need to take care of your staff, of your guests, of the fans. You need to adjust the size of the event to the size of the venue, or vice versa. You need to actually be interested in this event beyond the money it will earn you. You need to know when you bit off more than you can chew.

I'm not hoping for a better one next year, because all of us said we won't be back. What I do hope is that hey sincerely apologize to the guests and at least double what money was raised for charity.

#basingstoke comic con #rant #stargate #stargate atlantis

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kitten4sannie · 2 years ago

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17 - ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ/ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ - ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ

ʜᴏᴛʟɪɴᴇ

pairing: tutor (????) yeo x student! reader (fem)

genre: college au, smut

summary: you call a man named yeosang who will supposedly help you with your studying habits.

w.c: 2k

warnings: soft dom! yeosang, sub! reader, auralism, daddy kink, praise, pet names, dirty talk, phone sex, use of a dildo/pocketpussy, mutual masterbation

a/n: daddy yeoooooooo <3

FFF Masterlist

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You were never particularly good at balancing several college classes at once. Your attention span was simply too short to remember about the countless assignments you had to get done in a timely manner and topics you were expected to be knowledgeable about. This led to your college advisor recommending you get a tutor before any of your grades slipped. It was a good idea, but there was one thing. Tutors cost money and the only money you did have was used to buy dino nuggets in bulk and albums for your Kpop shrine. You had your priorities straight, of course.

“I don’t think I can afford a tutor, to be honest,” you admitted, emitting a soft laugh, as a way to comfort yourself.

The college advisor waved her hand at you nonchalantly, smacking her lips as she chewed on a piece of gum. “Don’t worry, honey. There’s a nice professor here that would be willing to help you out.”

Eyebrows raised, you leaned forward a bit. “Who?”

With her eyes glued to her computer monitor, the woman mindlessly took out a business card from a case full of them and handed it to you, her jaw still moving incessantly, starting to distract you from the small text on the fancy-looking card. It was smooth to the touch, and all black with white lettering.

Kang Yeosang, it read. Ph.D. Available for phone sessions Wed-Friday. 8pm - 12am. You turned the card around, finding his phone number along with a small red heart printed underneath it.

Nice touch. Hold up. Why was he available at such a late time? Maybe he was a night owl? It was still kind of odd, but you were desperate.

A few weeks went by and after one extremely long day at school, you went back to your dorm, did your homework and ate dinner as usual, leaving your essay halfway finished, not having the motivation or the brainpower to take it home. Maybe Professor Kang would be able to help you out.

Around 10:50 pm, you laid down on your bed, already wearing your sleep t-shirt and nothing else, knowing you would probably head to sleep after you made the call. As you waited for him to pick up, you flipped the business card from back to front a few times, starting to zone out the longer you had to listen to the rings emitting from your phone. Maybe it was too late. He was probably already asleep. You suddenly bit your bottom lip, glancing over to look at the moon sitting inside the sky outside of your window. Was it weird that you were calling this late on a Friday? Would he take it wrong? Would you be against it if he did?

“Hi there, sweetheart,” a deep, slightly raspy voice said directly into your ear, making you lose your train of thought. “What can I do for you tonight?”

“H-hi,” you replied in a small voice, your heart suddenly thumping away in your chest, a familiar warmth filling your core. The man barely greeted you and you were already reacting like this — though you weren’t used to people calling you sweetheart with a voice like his. “I was wondering if I could request a session with you. Only if you’re not busy, of course.”

“I’m not busy at all, Miss. I’d be more than happy to help you.” Yeosang repositioned himself on his own bed, taking his glasses off and setting them on his nightstand. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Y/N.” You idly twirled a lock of hair around your finger, excited to hear him talk more in that smooth, velvety voice of his.

“Cute.” He smiled to himself, resting a hand on his chest. “I’m Yeosang.”

“Yeosang,” you repeated to yourself, liking the way it rolled off your tongue.

He wet his lips with his tongue, bringing his phone a bit closer to his mouth. “Mm, I like the way it sounds when you say it.”

Was he…flirting?

“Oh, yeah?” you questioned boldly, your heart now beating so loudly inside your chest you were afraid he would hear it over the phone. “Should I say it again, then?”

Were you…flirting?

Yeosang bit into his bottom lip, his hand slowly sliding downwards. “Yeah, say it again for me, sweetheart. Let me hear that cute little voice of yours.”

Not that you were complaining, but Yeosang hadn’t said a single thing related to studying or anything school-related, for that matter. Holy shit, did you accidentally call a sex hotline? Did your college advisor mix something up? Well, it’s not like it really mattered at this point. You were fully invested in seeing where this went.

“Yeosang,” you purred, feeling your pussy pulse from saying it again, on a high just from waiting for his response.

“Mm, you know what else I want to hear you say?” he asked, resting his hand over the half-hard bulge inside his pants.

You took in a deep breath, your body feeling warmer by the second. “What?”

“Daddy,” he said in an even deeper tone than before, closing his eyes. “Now, let me hear you say it. Say it like you would if I was laying next to you in your bed right now.”

“Daddy,” you said softly, squeezing your legs together.

“Mmm.” Yeosang licked his lips, gripping the outline of his cock. “Tell Daddy what you’re wearing.”

You looked down at your half-naked body, noticing that your nipples were already hard and poking through your thin t-shirt. “I only have a t-shirt on…”

“Just a t-shirt? No panties or bra?”

“Mm-hmm. I wanna be comfy,” you answered honestly, running one of your hands up past your ribs to grab at one of your tits.

Yeosang leaned his head back into his pillow, imagining what you looked like inside his head. “Shit, then you’re going to be making a mess on your bed for me then, huh? How wet are you for me right now, Y/N?”

Fuck, he was good. Too good. Did he do this with all his students? Or…clients?

Knowing you were in too deep at this point to even consider stopping, you gingerly slid a hand down to your mound, slipping two fingers past your wet folds, and letting out an audible gasp.

“What is it, baby? Is that pretty little pussy already soaked?”

“Uh-huh, I’m really wet,” you exhaled into your phone, already pushing two fingers into your needy hole up to the hilt and scissoring them apart, moaning at the sensation.

“Mm, you’re already playing with yourself for me, aren’t you, doll?” Hearing your small ‘mm-hmm’ made him smile to himself, slowly slipping his hand into sweatpants to grab his stiff cock. “Can Daddy play with himself too?”

“Fuck, yes. I wanna hear the sounds you make, Daddy,” you replied, your voice coming out more whiny than you wanted it to.

Jesus, you were cute. He usually didn’t feel excitement like this during his sessions, so this was going to be a night well spent. “Do you have a toy to fuck yourself with, baby?”

“Yeah, hold on.” You reached down to open your nightstand drawer, pulling out the box you kept your toy inside and throwing it on the bed, before throwing yourself back onto it as well. “I’m back. I got it now.”

Yeosang groaned into the phone, already sliding the tip of his aching cock into the tight hole of a pocket pussy. “Put it inside you, sweetheart. I want to hear you just as much as you want to hear me, so don’t hold back, okay?”

“I won’t hold back, Daddy. I promise I’ll give you what you want.” You spread your legs apart, slowly pushing the head of the dildo into your pulsing cunt, moaning at the sensation of being stretched out.

“Good girl. My cock feels good inside that tight little pussy of yours, doesn’t it?” he commented breathily, beginning to buck his hips upwards, fucking the cocksleeve with enthusiasm.

Those two words sent you off the deep end. You grabbed the dildo with two hands and pushed it in and out of your dripping cunt, the loud, wet squelching sounds only encouraging you to fuck yourself faster. “Uh-huhhh, it feels really good, Daddy…!”

“Oh, you like that, huh?” He grunted, sliding a hand up underneath his tank top to tweak one of his nipples, his back arching slightly. “You like being Daddy’s good girl? Are you taking Daddy’s cock like the good little girl you are?”

"Yes, Daddy, I really like being your good girl," you whined, raising your hips slightly to shove the toy inside your tight cunt to the best of your ability, letting out harsh breaths. "I'm taking it so well, Daddy, I promise..."

"Mm, good. Your pussy feels really good on my cock, baby girl." He squeezed and flicked at his pebbled nipple, groaning loudly into your ear, thrusting into the pocket pussy at such a rapid rate, you could almost make out the sinful, wet sounds over the phone. "I'm going to cum inside this tight pussy of yours, baby, and fill you up to the fucking brim. You want it inside you, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, cum inside me, Daddy," you encouraged him in a small, breathy voice, unable to keep yourself from whining and mewling into the mic, your hands starting to cramp from how hard you were fucking yourself, the thick, ribbed dildo rubbing deliciously against your g-spot. "Fuck, fill me up, please!"

"Godddd, take my load, baby girl," Yeosang groaned out, his tone guttural and harsh, the sound coming out of his throat rather than his mouth.

"Thank you, Daddy, thank you," you whined, sounding like you were about to cry, which you were, to be fair, cumming so hard, you couldn't keep yourself from letting out small, high-pitched sobs.

"God, you're so fucking cute," he huffed, almost out of breath, sweat running down his face and neck, the heat inside his core about to overflow. "Oh, fuck, I'm cumming. Cumming for you, baby." He ripped the cocksleeve off and slipped his hand up and down his slick, throbbing dick, letting out a loud, almost animalistic moan, spurts of cum landing on his lower abdomen and chest.

The both of you simply laid there with your limbs spread out, breathing heavily, your bodies and brains tingling from the rush of endorphins. Wiping the sweat from your forehead, you cleared your throat, asking point blank, "Yeosang, what does the Ph.D stand for?”

Yeosang sighed softly, turning on his side and closing his eyes, feeling satisfied. “Pretty huge dick. Do you need proof? I can send a picture, if you’d like."

You slammed a hand over your mouth, trying not to laugh out loud. "So, you run a sex hotline, right?"

He chuckled to himself, wondering why you were pointing out the obvious. "Uh, yeah."

"I think I might've gotten the wrong number from someone, but it's cool..." You bit your bottom lip, feeling your cheeks heat up. "I really enjoyed...this."

"Me too, baby." Yeosang checked the stopwatch he had running in the background on his phone, calculating the cost of his time. Feeling bad, he closed the app, adding, "So, since you're a new customer, I think I'll let you have this session for free. How do you like the sound of that?"

"Wow, really? Thank you," you replied, smiling to yourself.

"So, did you want to go another round, baby?" he asked, licking his lips, rolling back onto his back, his cock already standing at attention. "I'm still thinking about those pretty moans you were making for me."

Biting your bottom lip, you slipped a hand back down to your cunt, almost shocked by how wet you still were. "Hurry up and give me your cock already, Yeo."

He groaned at the nickname you used, grabbing his cock again, ready to go again for the sake of hearing you whine and moan into his ear for another hour. "Spread that pussy open so I can fuck you good, baby."

Letting out a small moan, you glanced at the clock, realizing it was already nearing midnight. You were definitely not getting your essay done.

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FFF: @hwalysm @scuzmunkie @creativechaoticloner @dilucpegg3r @yeosxxx @gemjimin @wonwowzers @sanjoongie @manipulatedstars @k-drizzle

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samimarkart · 8 months ago

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In preparation of my show in July I am trying to raise some funds for the “finishing” side of my art process - buying dowel rods and fabric for hanging sleeves for my quilts, administrative things like printing more business cards and similar expenses. I am really excited for this opportunity but the reality as an emerging artist is that I probably won’t earn back much money from the pieces in the show. If you’ve ever had your eye on something I made this would be a really great chance to support me monetarily! I will list places you can find my art below and if you have the means to purchase something, thank you in advance!

Available originals

Etsy

Print shop

Wallpaper download

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e-dubbc11 · 10 months ago

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Always love a good sleepover 😆❤️

So.... I hope you're ready to have another go at Donald Pierce, cause I would love to request "Ah, so you aren't heartless after all" and "Whatever happens, don't let go of my hand."

And twist? Reader is a mutant... pretty please 🫣❤️

My lovely Lily,

I do love how you like to push me out of my comfort zone just a little bit. I had a hard time coming up with a mutant power for this but once I figured it out, I got really excited! So you asked for Donald Pierce and a Mutant Reader, I hope I did justice to your ask. 😘♥️

Under the Influence

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Donald Pierce x F! Mutant Reader

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ PLEASE or I’m telling on you!) Oral F! Receiving, P in V sex, some fluff, some angst, some swear words.

Word Count: 3.2K-ish

Summary: Living a low key life in Mexico, you meet Chief of Security at Alkali-Transigen, Donald Pierce. But you haven’t told him what you are, you’re afraid to.

A/N: This is my second time writing for Pierce. I hope you like it!

As always, thank you for reading! I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

The business card you were holding in your hand felt expensive, thick card stock, raised lettering, but there wasn’t a lot printed on it.

Alkali-Transigen

Donald Pierce

Chief of Security

The card had two phone numbers on it, his cell phone and the main phone number for Alkali-Transigen. Aside from being a little bit scary, Donald Pierce was very attractive, charming, and sweet, although he would NEVER let anyone else see that side of him.

He put on his tough exterior when he barked orders at his Reavers but with you, he turned on his charm and that southern drawl pulled you in like a moth to a flame.

You worked at a local school, teaching English and after a particular tough day, Donnie and his Reavers walked into the bar you and some co-workers were having a drink at.

It didn’t take him long to approach you and even though he wasn’t necessarily your type, you felt butterflies in your stomach when he did. His mechanical arm startled you at first, the sight of it made you recoil slightly.

“You ain’t gotta worry about that, darlin’. It ain’t gonna hurt ya. I’m just a little bit enhanced, is all.” He said with a sly smile, moving the fingers of the bionic arm back and forth as he talked.

It’s only natural that being in Mexico, the drink of choice was tequila and Donnie liked good tequila, the kind you can slowly sip on, let it roll around on your tongue, and enjoy. You let him choose the tequila and it did not disappoint.

His sky blue eyes gazing at you as he took a sip from his glass, he never looked away from you, and hung on your every word.

After a couple of drinks, he and his Reavers left but he left you wanting more. That slow sexy voice sent shivers down your spine as he traced a line from your shoulder to your wrist with just one finger. ONE FINGER had you falling apart, had you clenching your thighs together, and had you desperately wanting to see him again.

**********

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you stared at that card, your fingers gently brushed against the raised letters and you said out loud, “Transigen.” Suddenly your eyes welled up with tears and you gnashed your teeth thinking about that place, thinking about what they do to the children in there and remembering what they did to you when you were inside those walls.

You still had nightmares sometimes, waking in the middle of the night to find your sheets and your clothes soaked with sweat and rubbing your wrist like it was still attached. The bracelet they had put on you to prevent you from using your powers on anyone.

They weren’t obvious to anyone now but when you were a child, you would use your powers of manipulation to get what you wanted. Once, your younger sister was bothering you so you put your hand on her and told her to go out back and run around the tree until you told her to stop.

You parents came home to find her running in circles around the tree and so dizzy, she couldn’t see straight.

“Sissy told me to do it! And I tried to stop but I couldn’t!!” She had sobbed to your parents.

Eventually, you had become too much to handle. You set out to try and control anyone that you could get your hands on, literally, and your parents had enough of your antics.

Listening from the top of the stairs one night, you heard your parents talking, your father holding a piece of paper in his hand.

“Maybe we should call them. They could help her; it says so right here.” He said, pointing to the flyer.

They didn’t want to “help” you but they were very interested in you and promised to take VERY good care of you. They had never seen someone that could influence someone just by putting a finger on them so they wanted to study you, they ran tests, hooked you up to machines, and took your blood.

Even when they didn’t need you anymore, they didn’t let you go.

You had to escape and you did. The only time they took your bracelet off was when you were showering. Manipulating your handlers was easy and you couldn’t believe you didn’t do it sooner but the damage was already done.

That place was wretched; you were elated and relieved to have escaped but you felt terrible for the other children that were still there and you can’t imagine it’s any different now than it was then so you were torn.

On one hand you hated that place and everything to do with it but you also really liked Donald. What were you supposed to do? Damn him and his handsome face and sexy smile.

You dialed his number and he answered right away.

“Well hey there, y/n.” He said.

You could tell he was smiling.

“How did you know it was me?” You asked.

“Oh I didn’t know for sure, but I was hopin’ it was.” Said Donald.

You chuckled into the phone and felt yourself running strands of your hair in between your fingers while talking to him. He wanted to know if he could take you out after work tomorrow and you happily agreed.

In the corner of a dimly lit restaurant, you had a nice dinner and talked…a lot. You asked him what exactly he did for work.

“Well that group that came into the bar with me, the Reavers? Yeah, anyone that escapes the facility, they send us out to bring ‘em back. A bunch of years ago, a teenager escaped from right under their noses and since then, security has been really tight. I don’t really care for mutants all that much but I guess I wouldn’t wanna be stuck in that place either.” He said, taking a sip of his drink.

He was talking about you. Your muscles stiffened and your face went stoic. “I don’t really care for mutants all that much but I guess I wouldn’t wanna be stuck in that place either.” His words were cold but with just a hint of compassion. He was making this really difficult.

“Ah, so you aren’t heartless after all.” You said with a warm smile.

Donnie let out a little laugh. “Nah, I’m not heartless darlin’. Sometimes I have to use a little force bringin’ them back, I don’t like doin’ it but if I don’t bring ‘em back, I don’t get paid. It’s…well, it’s my job.” He said.

How would he react if you told him what you are? You had gently touched him at dinner, nestled next to each other in a corner booth but you hadn’t even thought about manipulating him once even though you had plenty of opportunities to do so.

Donnie asked you questions too, but you had to lie about certain parts of your life; you just weren’t ready to tell him yet. How could you after what he told you? After finding out who he works for and what he does for them, there was no way you could tell him just yet.

**********

Your relationship with Donnie escalated pretty quickly after that first date. It was hard to stay away from him. He would show up at the school where you worked, the kids all loved him and he was really nice to them.

He didn’t brush them off or ignore them, he would ALWAYS talk to them when he visited. They all loved his bionic arm and his skull and crossbones tattoo, they thought he was absolutely fascinating.

It made you fall for him even harder.

“Lemme see your eyes, Donnie.” You commanded. “You’re always wearing those sunglasses, I wanna see those dreamy blue eyes.”

“Well sweetheart, you’re the only one that I would take orders from.” He said with a smile, his gold tooth shining in the dim light of your apartment.

Gently cupping his cheek, you leaned over to kiss him, the bristles of his beard scratched your chin as he kissed you back and your heart fluttered when he pulled you into his lap.

Parting your lips with his tongue, he kissed you with passion, cradling your head with his hand and his mechanical hand touching your waist. The cold metal still surprised you every time especially when it touched the warm skin on your stomach.

“Ya know somethin’, darlin’? When I’m with you, I feel like this is where I’m supposed to be. I can’t explain it.” He said.

You knew you never ever used your powers on Donnie, you’ve never made him feel anything for you than he already did so what was this feeling that he was experiencing, that he couldn’t explain? Love? If you didn’t want to use your powers, you didn’t.

The control you had was perfect but you still wondered in the back of your mind if somehow you were influencing him in any way without knowing you were.

Moving to your bed, he explored your body with heated kisses from your lips down to your core. Taking his time, he makes sure you let out gasps of pleasure as his tongue circled your clit causing a hot fire to burn in the pit of your stomach before cries of his name fled from your mouth, soaking the sheet underneath you.

Settling himself in between your legs, he leaned down to kiss you, the taste of you on his tongue, he entered you slowly, stretching you out until he was buried to the hilt, your thighs clenching around him, waiting for him to move but not before you let out a strangled moan.

Buried deep in your pussy, he fucked you slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him before picking up the pace. Pulling almost all the way out before slamming into you again, your walls started to flutter around him. Growling in your ear and biting down on your neck, he praised you, telling you how good you feel and how tight you are.

“Don’t come for me yet, baby. You feel so good.” He said through clenched teeth.

Donnie’s metal arm felt cool against the soft skin on the inside of your wrist as goosebumps erupted across your body. He had both of your hands pinned above your head, his grip on your wrists tightened, your orgasm still building, you were so close.

Arching your back away from the bed, his head buried deep in the crook of your neck, you felt his warm breath fan across your throat and chest.

His name escaped your mouth over and over again, and your knees started to tremble from the overstimulation. He ceased his movements every time he felt your walls flutter around him, grinning like a devil because he liked delaying your gratification.

You whine softly in his ear.

“Donnie, I’m so close. Please!” You begged.

“Come for me, darlin’.” He purred in your ear.

Your release came hard and fast like a wave crashing on shore, making you slightly dizzy. Sinful noises escaped your lips as your body continued to spasm uncontrollably. His climax wasn’t far behind yours and he cursed out loud before collapsing on top of you.

Both of you breathing heavily, Donnie moved a stray hair away from your face, fiercely pressed his lips to yours and gave you a sly smile.

It was probably the best sex you’d ever had…and he knew it. The last thing you remember is falling asleep with your hand on his chest and a smile on your face.

**********

You felt rough callused fingers on one shoulder and cold metal on the other, a distant voice saying, “Wake up, darlin’. You’re havin’ a nightmare. Come on baby, wake up.” Your eyes flew open, panic washed over you, the sheets getting tangled up in your limbs as you thrashed around. Donnie was trying to calm you; he didn’t want you to hurt yourself.

“Look at me, y/n! You’re safe, it’s ok.” He said with concern.

Panting, you replied, “Donnie? You’re here.” And pulled him into an embrace.

Smiling against your shoulder, he said, “Well of course I’m here, sweetheart. Where else would I be? Can you tell me what you were dreamin’ about?”

Holding onto him tightly, you realized that you shouldn’t keep it from him anymore.

“I have to tell you something, baby.” You said in a serious tone.

You started to explain yourself, how you were the one that escaped Transigen all those years ago, about the powers you had and how you used them to manipulate your way out of the facility.

Donnie looked at you in shock, almost like he didn’t believe what you were telling him.

“No…you can’t be her. Are you messin’ with me, baby?” He asked.

“You don’t believe me, do you.” You said, sternly.

He shook his head furiously.

“Pick up your knife, Donnie.” You commanded.

When he picked up the knife, you extended your hand and cupped his cheek. Silently, you told him to hold the knife to your throat and he did.

Donnie started to panic, watching himself hold a knife to your throat scared him. It was written all over his face.

“What’s happening, y/n?!! Why am I doing this? Stop it, stop it now!!” He shouted.

You touched his cheek again, this time telling him to drop the knife. Tears streaked down your cheeks and he recoiled from you, getting up off of the bed and continuing to shake his head in disbelief like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, what he was feeling.

“I-it was like I-I wanted to stop but I couldn’t, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t put my hand down. Have you been usin’ that on me the entire time?!!!” Shouted Donnie, angrily.

Visibly upset, you replied, “NO!! I have NEVER used it on you until just now, I swear! The day I met you, I didn’t touch you at all. I can’t influence people unless I touch them.”

“But after that. You didn’t make me, ya know, feel things for you? I don’t normally develop feelings like this.” He said.

“Feelings like what, Donnie?” You asked.

“Feelings like, well, like I think I might be in love with you!” He said, his voice trembling slightly.

“Might be?” You asked.

He stepped closer to the bed again. “I’ve never been in love before, I don’t know what it feels like.”

“I’ve never manipulated you, baby. Not once. I’ve never done it to someone I actually care about, well not anymore. Before I went away, I would mess with my parents and my sister ALL the time.” You said, letting out a little laugh.

He cracked a smile but his face went serious again and he told you he needed to clear his head. You begged him not to leave but he did anyway. You couldn’t blame him, actually. That’s a lot of information to take in especially knowing what he does for a living.

He hunts people like you, children like you and brings them to a facility where they’re experimented on. Was he supposed to just forget that you’re a mutant?

You were scared that you’d never see him again…he didn’t know but you loved him too.

**********

It was quiet the whole next day. No texts came in, no phone calls…nothing. Until later on that night, after your shower you heard a few knocks on your front door.

“Who—who’s there?” You asked with a hitch in your voice.

His slight southern drawl echoed from behind the door.

“It’s just me, darlin’.” He said.

“JUST you?” You asked.

“Of course, just me.” He said, curtly.

You unlocked the door, took the chain off and opened it. He stormed through with a look of anger all over his face.

“Why would you ask that?!” Asked Donnie.

Nervously, you replied, “I-I don’t know. It’s just—you work for them, Donnie. Your job is to bring people like me to them.”

“Sweetheart, I would NEVER bring you to them, EVER!” He said.

A deep exhale of relief escaped your lungs.

Donnie inched closer to you, the cold metal from his bionic arm touched your cheek and you didn’t flinch. It was the first time your reflexes didn’t get the best of you and didn’t retreat away from him.

“I’ve seen the others like you.” He said softly, gazing into your eyes.

You thought he just meant other mutants.

“Well yeah, Donnie. There are mutants all over that place.” You replied.

He shook his head, still holding your gaze.

“No, I don’t mean it like that. I meant the others with your…ability. They all have…” He paused.

Brushing his beard with your thumbs, you asked him, “They all have what, baby?”

“They all have…your eyes.” He whispered.

Your legs immediately started to shake and a rush of warmth moved across your chest. With sweat on your brow, Donnie immediately snaked his arms around your waist and led you over to the couch where you tried to process what he just said to you.

“What?” You asked.

“I asked around today. They’re not as powerful as you are but they were created from…your DNA. They got what they wanted from you so that’s why they never bothered to try and bring you back after you escaped.” He told you.

A wave of nausea hit you like a ton of bricks and your insides felt like they were twisted in knots.

“I never told anyone what happened to me in there because I just wanted to forget that place but we can’t leave them in there, Donnie. I have to go to the authorities or go in there myself—“ You said before he cut you off.

“Whoa, no—no, I am not lettin’ you near that place, darlin’. Absolutely not.” He said. “I will go with ya to the authorities and then we are leavin’.”

“Leaving? Where are we going?” You asked.

“Wherever ya wanna go.” He said with a wink.

He cupped your cheeks with both his human hand and his bionic hand and leaned in to kiss you.

“Donnie…are you—?” You paused, biting down on your lower lip and looking at your hands resting in your lap. “Are you really in love with me?” You asked.

“Oh I am, baby. I love you very much, y/n. So these powers of yours…what else can you make me do?” He asked with raised eyebrows.

You rested a hand on his wrist, he captured your lips again, parting them to allow his tongue to tangle with yours. His kisses were hungry and possessive.

Breaking away from the kiss, you said, “But I’m sure you wanted to do that anyway, right baby?”

“Oh I did, sweetheart. Ya know I did.” He replied.

**********

Outside Police Headquarters

“Deep breaths, darlin’. You ready to do this?” Ask Donnie.

You nodded.

“I am but…I’m a little scared, Donnie.” You said with a crack in your voice.

He took your hand in his and replied, “Well, whatever happens, don’t let go of my hand.”

Others that might enjoy: @ilovewhiteroses @pnwdagnabbit @gijos

If I tagged you and you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again. As always, thank you again for reading!

#donald pierce #donald pierce x reader #donald pierce x female reader #donald pierce x mutant reader #donald pierce smut #boyd holbrook #logan 2017 #winter sleepover 2024 #ericca answers

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year ago

Text

Hollywood’s Angel 🎬 | Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado Imagine

TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado x actress!reader (romantic)

Content warnings: slight profanity, fluff | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 5k

Requested 📨 Yes/no (for @stephthestallion 🤍)

Premise: Lights. Camera. Action!! Whether it be on the big screen in movie theaters across the globe or at home streaming the latest hit show, the name Y/n L/n would forever be known one of the world’s greatest entertainers. From humble beginnings the odds didn’t appear in her favor at first, but sometimes taking a risk could lead to endless opportunities. And maybe even love along the way…..

Note: This was so fun to write and I’m so sorry it took so long. I’ve been so busy lately with work and trying to get stuff settled. I hope I did this work justice for you 🥹 Also Y/Z/S stands for your zodiac sign.

—————————

“Hello, my name is Y/n L/n,” A beaming smile was sent to the camera once the producer gave a thumbs up. “And I’m here to do the Wired autocomplete interview.” She clapped her hands, “Let’s do this.” Handed a card stock with a printed google web search filled with blanks save for the, ‘Who Y/n L/n….’, her eyebrows rose with curiosity.

“You know I’ve watched dozens of these interviews in my free time. My favorite being the one with Ryan Renolds and Jake Gyllenhaal.”

“Have you ever searched yourself?” The producer asked off screen. Y/n’s response was a cheeky smirk.

“A long time ago when I was teenager and social media was first becoming a thing—you know when we had MySpace, but since then I have not. While I love the internet sometimes it can be a little,” she makes a face, “too much you know.” Focusing back on the card stock, Y/n takes a deep breath as the nerves start to arise. “I’m starting to feel a little worried but what I’m gonna discover is searched about me on Google.”

Her fingers grip the first piece of paper, reading off the statement as it peels away, “Who is Y/n L/n?” An instant chuckle leaves her lip, turning to the camera. “Y/n L/n is um…,” she shrugs, not sure how to really answer the question, “a 28-year-old woman who started out as a child actress in the mid 2000s. She’s a Y/Z/S, a newly-wedded wife, producer, and sometimes sings and dances or models in her free time.”

In truth, Y/n L/n was so much beyond that. Her name and legacy was embedded into history at such a young age the whole world knew who she was by the time she was 14.

Born to a middle class family in 1995 in New York City, Y/n’s parents were hardworking people who raised her and her siblings to appreciate the beauty in life. Though there were times of struggle, living paycheck to paycheck and having to sacrifice the lights in order to have food on the table, there was always love, support, and care in their family. Y/n witnessed her parents do everything they could to provide for them, her mom working double shifts at the hospital and dad on the road thirty weeks out of the year as a truck driver, and made the vow to repay them. Whether it be working her ass off in school in order to graduate from a prestigious university with a degree that would get her a stable career, or succeed in her dreams of breaking through in the entertainment industry.

Acting, singing, dancing. One could consider it the love of her life. Being on stage to a crowd made Y/n feel on top of the world. Playing dress up and house with her friends and family, pretending to be someone else was so much fun to the little girl. Y/n loved the little school plays she would do in preschool and kindergarten.

“One day,” she said to her childhood best friend while they swung on the swing set, “I’m gonna be on Tv like Disney Channel,” a squeal left her when she leaned back a little too far. “In front of cameras where I get to be someone else.”

Little kids always tend to dream big. Their desires and goals often shift. One day they wanna be a popstar. The next a veterinarian or an astronaut. But Y/n always knew what she wanted in life. To be in Hollywood with her face on the big screen for the world to see. To give back to her parents and support her family so they could accomplish their own dreams and aspirations.

She was destined for greatness. Now fast forward to the present, and Y/n is celebrating 20 years of being in Hollywood.

“Who was Y/n L/n’s first TV role?” The next question read, mentally traveling the actress back to the year 2003 when she was eight years old. She had been in Los Angeles to visit her grandparents and practically begged her grandma to take her to open auditions. Whether it was for a commercial or as an extra in a show, Y/n simply wanted to at least try despite being so young. She’d maybe auditioned for six roles in various media before getting a call back.

“My first role,” she begins with a grin at the memory, “was Rosie Whittman on Law & Order: SVU. Season five, episode 25 which was the season finale and the most viewed episode of the season,” Y/n remembered how intimidating the whole experience was, but loved every minute of it. “I was eight-years-old. No agent, no experience in Hollywood and was only in town to visit my grandparents for the summer. My grandmother took me to auditions that were open—because I didn’t have an agent and was a nobody,” she couldn’t help but laugh. “My parents obviously let me watch SVU as a child, but I wanted to audition for every open casting I saw so it took a lot of convincing on my part for my parents to allow my grandma to take me.” Boy it sure was a lot. Y/n was fighting for her life on the phone while her mother voiced disapproval.

“I was a pretty confident child,” a smirk takes her features, “I went in and did my thing—impressing the casting director, the producers, and Mariska Hargitay who happened to be there to do a chemistry read— since the character I was auditioning for was being questioned by Olivia Benson for what she witnessed.” Y/n pauses for a brief moment. “And yeah, Mariska was very impressed with me, going as far as to set me up with my first agent. I really owe my entire career to her and I love any chance we get to work together. She took a chance on me when I was just a child with big dreams with little connections and,” Y/n lifts her hands, “look where it got me. Here with Wired to see what people have been searching for about me over the years.”

After a few more questions about her personal life before she was an Emmy winning actress, Y/n moved to the next card. “What was Y/n L/n’s breakthrough role?”

Y/n made a face to the camera, “This is an interesting question. And I say this because depending on who you ask, the answer might be different.” She tilted her head back and forth, “Most would say Wren Stone—after all I played that role for nearly a decade. I got quite a bit of recognition in the 2000s as Viper in the X-Men films and of course as Padaline in the Hunger Games franchise—you could say people who grew up with those films know me best by that. But,” she licks her lip, “I would consider my run as Jodie Pip to be my breakthrough role.”

Jodie Pip, the longest running companion to the Tenth Doctor in the BBC hit series Doctor Who threw Y/n into worldwide recognition. After appearing in episodes of television hits like Criminal Minds, Grey’s Anatomy, Gossip Girl, and Dexter, Y/n took a risk by traveling to England in hopes of securing a main role in a show rather than a supporting one. She was itching to play a character for longer than one episode. And sadly, Hollywood just wasn’t doing it for her.

Therefore going across the Atlantic seemed to be the solution. A decision which would change her life for the better.

“Picture this: you’re twelve-years-old in a country you’ve only been to maybe once and this time around you’re looking to permanently move there. Your family is back in America waiting for the call from your Agent, who’s your legal guardian at this point, to tell them you’ve got a contract and will be there for God knows how long.” Y/n lets out a sign, reliving the nerve racking first few months in England with only her agent and Godmother with her. “It was a stressful time. I was losing hope while waiting patiently for a sign. Getting the call that I got the part—I was going to be the companion to one of the most iconic television characters of all time…” she shrugs as if it was obvious, “Getting to work with David Tennant, Freema Agyemen, Catherine Tate, and Alex Kingston….It was the best day of my life.” Placing her hand on the next slip, she adds, “I cried for a good couple hours—pure happiness.”

“Is Y/n L/n British?” A full blown laugh escapes, hand flying up to muffle the sound. “Oh my Gosh this is too funny. The amount of people I meet every year—whether it be costars, colleagues, or fans at cons—who are so surprised to discover I’m not British,” she raises a hand in defense, “It doesn’t happen quite as often as it did ten-fifteen years ago. And I understand why people assumed I was because for so long I played characters who were.” Making herself comfortable in the chair, Y/n explains her career further in depth.

“First was Jodie, who I played for three years from 2007 to 2010 and then again in 2013 for the Doctor Who 50th anniversary special. Playing her put me on the map in the UK. I was on Skins for several episodes, one season of Merlin. I had supporting roles in the Golden Compass and Nowhere Boy. And because I had worked with Steven Moffat and Chris Chibnall on Doctor Who, I booked Eurydice on Sherlock and Shania on Broadchurch years later—getting to work with the lovely, talented, and amazing David Tennant for a second time.” Y/n’s face turns semi serious, “I love that man. He’s like my work dad for real—he was at my wedding,” she counts off on her finger, “I was at his. I’m Godmother to his daughters..he’s my ride or die.”

Getting back to the original point, Y/n snaps her fingers twice, “But back on track. Jodie, Eurydice, Shania..then of course playing Wren Stone on Game of Thrones for eight years had everyone on the planet believing I was British.” Wren Stone was the bastard of Jon Arryn in HBO’s critically acclaimed series Game of Thrones based on the books by George R. R. Martin. A ward of the Arryn family due to her status, Wren was introduced in the first season and went on to become a close ally to the Starks as well as a one of the longest running characters on the show when she appeared in all eight seasons. A fan favorite, her surviving the last season was one of the only good things to come out of it.

Cause…well we don’t talk about season 8.

“The last BBC show I did, what had me move back to the U.S permanently, was Killing Eve since it was with BBC America. By the time I booked Hunger Games and Ellie,” she corrects herself, “Negasonic Teenage Warhead in Deadpool, people were like, ‘you do a great American accent.’ And I just smile and nod, going, ‘yeah, I’m from New York.’ Their reaction,” she laughs, “every time was priceless.” Going to remove the next strip, Y/n pauses and looks back at the camera, ending with a wink, “Considering I’m joining Bridgerton this upcoming season as Sophie Beckett, I feel I will be having this question come up again a lot.”

‘What are some movies Y/n L/n has been in?’

“Well,” the actress rubs her chin with a knuckle, deep in thought. “I’ve been in a few—give or take,” she winks again. “My first movie role was X-2 in 2003, playing Viper although the role was minor compared to what it was in The Last Stand and Days of Future Past. In Spider-Man 2 I was in the train scene for a brief moment,” she pauses to laugh, “now that I think about it I have been in several projects related to Marvel. X-Men, Spider-Man and Deadpool. Not to mention I'll be taking on the role of Felicia Hardy in the MCU—that I’m really excited for. Umm what else,” she clicks her tongue to think.

“I had a small part in Constantine with Keanu Reeves, who along with David Tennant is someone I’ve worked with several times and love him to death,” she points a finger up, “The Golden Compass and Nowhere Boy as I mentioned earlier. In the 2010s I was in several features like Snow White and the Huntsman, The Help, New Year’s Day, Furious 7. I was in Catching Fire and parts 1 and 2 of Mockingjay—again I would say is one of my most recognizable roles. John Wick Chapters 2 & 3. In 2017 I was in The Greatest Showman. Oh!” She exclaimed with a grin, “Can’t forget I was in three Bond films: Skyfall, Spectre and the most recent No Time To Die. Another example of why the whole world believes I’m from England. Honestly England is my second home and where my career initially took off. I miss it there terribly, but coming back to the States has been a blessing—being close to my family and getting to do projects in Hollywood which was my dream since I was a little girl.”

Biting her lip the actress finishes up with, “my most recent movie roles have been Annihilation in 2018, Knives Out, Dune, The King’s Man, Uncharted, and Mortal Kombat—both of which are based on popular video games.” If she were being honest, playing Mileena in Mortal Kombat was one of her favorite movie roles to date—especially after having to fight with the studio to give the character justice when they were the ones calling her for the role. As a fan of the game and character, Y/n wasn’t going to settle for a small cameo. Ed Boon loved her interpretation of the character so much he asked her to voice Mileena in the next installments of the game.

Not to mention in the last several years any project with Y/n attached to it already had support and a loyal fan base to promote the show/film. After winning five Emmy’s—for her roles in Doctor Who, Game of Thrones, Sherlock, and Euphoria—Y/n was a household name.

So yeah, she wasn’t gonna be cheated out.

“Last year I was in Elvis plus back to back features with A24. X and Pearl were a lot of fun—and we’re currently filming the final installment to the trilogy, maXXXine.” Moving on she revealed the next statement, “Who was Y/n L/n in Euphoria?”

“In Euphoria,” she clears her throat, trying not to physically cringe at the thought of its creator, “I played Rue’s cousin Reece, who like every character on the show was dealing with difficult issues. I did a lot of research into my role so I could remain authentic and true to the character and the real life struggles people like her face.” Y/n softly smiled, “I won the Supporting Emmy next to Zenday’s leading—and it was a wonderful feeling to be recognized for a fifth time by the Academy while next to one of my best friends. Zendaya and I met when we were teenagers and have been so close. Working together on Euphoria was a wonderful experience and I’m so blessed to have received the honor alongside her.”

‘What episode of Black Mirror is Y/n L/n in?’

“Nosedive,” she turned to the camera, “it was in season three with Bryce Dallas Howard and Michaela Coel—both whom I adore. Aaaaand the episode was terrifying.” She simply said with a blank expression. “Watching it back gave me actual chills because one day technology will be so advanced that what took place in the episode could become our reality. And when I read the script my immediate reaction was like, ‘this is gonna be intense,’ and sure enough it was.”

‘Does Y/n L/n sing?’

A childlike grin appeared once again, “I do sing! Anytime I get a chance to sing I immediately say yes. It’s something I love. All the time on set I’ll be humming a tune or belting out lyrics to whatever music is playing. I got to sing a lot in The Greatest Showman so I was very happy about that. It’s my actual voice in the karaoke scene in season 2 of Euphoria. The one at Maddy’s birthday party—I had to beg them to let me do it live and not pre recorded. So when you see Lexi, Maddy and Kate filming me it’s actually Maude, Alexa, and Barbie using their personal phones, not the ones their characters use.” Offering a smirk she finishes with, “A little BTS you may have not known.”

‘Who does Y/n L/n model for?’

“Hmmmm” the actress puckers her lips. “As someone who was a fashionista growing up, I am filled with gratitude at being able to answer this.” Where could she really start with this? Having been labeled a fashion icon in 2020 Y/n had a long resume of working with brands and designers. “To start, I am an ambassador for Prada as well as its subsidiarie Miu Miu. We’ve partnered together for years and I’ve gone to the Met Gala with them a few times—most recent being in 2022. I’ve done campaigns for Calvin Klein and Stella McCartney. I recently did a collaboration with Dior. This year I went to the Met with Chanel—wearing vintage Chanel and ended up doing a campaign with them. Donatella Vesache and I have worked together.” Y/n scrunches her nose, “Every year I look forward to fashion week as you can imagine.”

‘Does Y/n L/n have a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame?’

“If you asked me this the other day I would’ve said no,” she replies cheekily, “But….if you’ve seen the news recently then you would know that I’ve been selected to receive one this year and I….can’t even put into words the feeling. I better stop before I get emotional,” she felt her eyes well up slightly. “I’m extremely honored and blessed to receive such recognition. All I dreamed about as a kid was to have my name on one of those stars and now it’s coming true. I’m overjoyed.”

‘What did Y/n L/n win the Tony for?’

“I won the Tony back in 2018 for my role in Wicked.”

“Will Y/n L/n be in DW 60th special?” Throwing a look to the camera, smirk threatening to appear on her lips she goes, “I don’t know…you’ll have to watch and find out.”

“Is Y/n L/n in Stranger Things?”

“I am not, but I would love to be,” she shrugs with a smile. “I love that show and everyone is so talented. I can’t wait for season five—it needs to hurry up before I lose my mind.”

‘Who is Y/n L/n in Star Wars?”

“So I voiced the absolute badass and Jedi master Ahsoka Tano during Clone Wars from 2008 to 2014, returning for the Rebels series form 2014 to 2018,” she pauses to cross her legs to make herself more comfortable. This was one of her favorite characters to play and despite the criticism and dislike for Ashoka in the beginning, she grew to become a fan favorite in the Star Wars fandom. “I was thirteen when I first voiced Ashoka and I got the privilege to bring her to life again by playing her in live-action for the Mandalorian and Book of Boba Fett—not to mention getting to have a voice cameo in The Rise of Skywalker.” Y/n gets ready to move on, “Now you’re about to see Ashoka again for her spin off show coming this summer on Disney plus.”

‘What all has Y/n L/n and David Tennant worked on?’ The question made her chuckle, surprised it was a top search on Google.

“David Tennant—the man, the myth, the legend. I’ve been lucky to work with him on several projects over the years,” the memories appear in her mind as she recalls them. “We first met in 2006 after I got the role of Jodie Pip opposite his Tenth Doctor. That lasted almost three years but during that time we both did Clone Wars—he voiced Huyang and he actually will be retuning as Huyang for the Ashoka series.” The moment she got the news the woman had FaceTimed him screaming. Although he was only voicing the droid they still made plans to reunite since they hadn’t seen each other since before Covid when Y/n moved back to the states.

“Broadchurch happened a few years after we both left Doctor Who—around the same time as the anniversary special—and then I got to work with him again when I appeared in an episode of Good Omens as one of the demons passing judgement on Crowley. Finally I wanna say before the Ashoka series the last thing we did was Staged back when quarantine was a thing.” Y/n’s face turns serious, “Anytime I get to work with David I take it. Like I said, he’s my ride or die,” she crosses her fingers, “we like this. And I love when people send me those YouTube videos where it’s like, ‘Jodie Pip and The Doctor sharing a brain cell for 10 minutes straight,’ or ‘David Tennant and Y/n L/n being a father-daughter duo on and off screen.’ Really brightens up my day.”

A few more questions went on, Y/n answering as best as she could with details. Doing this interview really gave viewers a more personal outlook on the actress. She was known for being reserved and private in her career expanding two decades. As a child star, her agent really shielded her from a lot due to the cruel nature of Hollywood and the media. And as a result of criticisms Y/n only was active on social media when it came time to promote projects and events.

She had a large and loyal fan base. Probably one of the largest for a celebrity due to her being in so many popular shows and high-grossing movies. On TikTok she & her characters were the most edited when it came to fancams. Pinterest had its own board dedicated to all the outfits Y/n wore.

She was Hollywoods Angel. Fans loved her, celebrities adored her. Before joining the cast of Bridgerton she met them at the Bafta’s the year prior and had them all starstruck when she approached. Nicola Couglan, who plays Penelope Featherington, even mentioned in an interview how the cast pretty much lost their minds when they found out she would be coming onto the show.

“No one knew about the end credit scene at the end of series three,” she told Graham Norton, seated alongside her costar/leading man, Luke Newton aka Colin Bridgerton on the show. “It was a big secret between Shonda and the crew. After we wrapped up, they went ahead and secretly filmed the scene with Sophie getting ready for the masquerade ball,” Nicola raises her hands, grinning from ear to ear, “and when I tell you we all were freaking out.” The audience laughed, Graham leaning foward in his seat with an awe-struck expression.

“So how did you find out? Was it when you watched the finale?”

Luke was the one to answer. “When I watched the episode,” he points to Nicola, “and I think you said you did this too—same with some of the others, I exited Netflix once the credits started to roll. Not thining much of it,” he shrugs, “then later that night Claudia Jessie who plays Eloise FaceTimes the iMessage group chat we have—.”

Nicole gently cuts in, “I’m surprised so many picked up.” That ignites a laugh from everyone.

“Yeah,” Luke agrees as he sits up. “Luke Thompson, Johnny Bailey, Simone, Nicola, Bessie, and I all answer—one after the other—and Claudia is shouting, ‘Did you see the end credit scene!?!’ Of course I’m confused because I’m like, ‘what is this, the MCU?’” Nicola bursts into laughter along with Graham. “Everyone’s asking what the hell she’s talking about because we’ve all seen the finale and were texting about it—but nobody mentioned an end credit scene. It completely went over our head. So…as you can imagine we all turn our tv, still on FaceTime mind you, and low and behold not only is there end credit scene….but Y/n L/n is gonna be Sophie Beckett.” Just the name alone ignites eruption from the crowd.

“Wow,” Graham exhales, “And you guys met her at the Bafta’s last year, yes? I remember seeing a picture of you two and other cast mates from Bridgerton with her.” Nicola nods excitedly.

“We did. It was such a surreal moment. She was with her then fiancee and the Euphoria cast—it kinda looked like a school mixed with Euphoria cast on one side and us on the other. But she came over and we were all buzzing in the corner, ‘Y/n L/n is coming over here. Oh my God-oh my God.’ Most of us have been watching her since she was on Doctor Who so this was like meeting your childhood idol,” Nicola used her hands to emphasize the point, “And she expressed how she was a fan of the books and loved the show. She even made a joke like, ‘Tell Shonda to call my line.’”

“And did you?” Graham asks for the audience and viewers at home, on the edge of his seat. “Cause didn’t they work together before on Grey’s Anatomy and Scandal?”

Luke nods, “we brought it up during press for series 2. I forgot Y/n was on those shows actually so when I told Shonda I thought ‘there’s no way they’re gonna get her’.” He glances at Nicola, excitment on his features, “I think everyone is ready to get back to set and start filming series four. I know I’m already missing everyone and I’m excited to pass the torch to Luke and Y/n.”

Coming down to the final cardstock, Y/n was sad to end the interview. It was fun seeing what people searched on the web and giving a more in-depth look at her life.

Peeling back the paper on the final card, the statement read, “Who is Y/n L/n’s husband?” Cue the butterflies in her stomach, picturing the man’s gorgeous face. “My husband is Lieutenant Commander Javy Machado. Although he is known to his colleagues as ‘Coyote’.” Lowering the cardstock she went on to say, “Javy and I met four years ago in 2019, he’s a fighter pilot for the Navy and was stationed in San Diego for an assignment. It happened to coincide at the time I was filming a small part in ‘Friend of the World’.” A small independent film her friend was producing and asked if she would take a small role to help promote the project. It’d been the first film Y/n had taken on after moving back to the States following her nearly 12 year residence in the United Kingdom.

If she thought hard enough, Y/n could feel the warmth of the sun on her arms and smell of the ocean salt water as her eyes landed on a group of people playing football with two balls. Instantly drawn to the man sticking his tongue out at his friends when running backwards to the end line. “My costars and I had wrapped up for the day and decided to go to the beach. We were waiting for this bar to open at five so we strolled for a good bit to pass time. That’s where I saw him playing football with his colleagues,” a shy smile stayed on her lips the entire time Y/n relayed the story.

“And then when the bar opened that night we formally met.” Man what a night it was. Every social media platform was buzzing with pictures and videos of Y/n behind the bar of The Hard Deck surrounded by patrons. The bartender, Penny, was so cool and didn’t mind the actors coming in despite the madhouse they caused. She did, however, have to close the doors once it got too packed due to locals sending word the five-time Emmy award winning actress was there. Before she knew it, Y/n was making drinks with her while taking pictures and signing autographs to everyone who approached. Y/n even rang the bell a couple times and bought the first round for those in attendance.

And when Javy appeared in front of her, it was like time had stopped. The noise eloping them was muffled, movement slowed to where the only clear focus was on each other.

“Hi,” he beamed, looking at her like she was the only person on the planet. “I know you’ve heard this all night, but is it alright if I get a photo with you?”

“Of course,” Y/n found her voice after a second, smiling wide as she inched closer to the bar counter. Javy thanked her, moving so his back was to the surface since the bar stood in between them and positioned his phone so it captured both of them. They posed, Javy snapping a couple pictures with Y/n making a kissy face at one point. When it ended Y/n motioned to the draft beers beside her, “Can I get you anything? Round is on me.”

Well Javy couldn’t say no could he? Pocketing his phone he replied, “Whatever you recommend, I’ll take.” Had he been to the hard deck several times in the past two weeks? Yes. Did he know what all was on draft and bottled? Sure did. But he wasn’t gonna pass on the chance to flirt with one of the greatest actors Hollywood had ever produced.

It was Y/n L/n for Christ’s sake. Hollywood’s Angel as they called her.

But what the pilot didn’t expect was to have found the love of his life. The same went for Y/n. Sure they had a moment movies often depicted as ‘love at first sight’ but c’mon, that was only in the movies…right?

Well perhaps it wasn’t just in the movies.

“Okay I see you!” Javy hollered from the side, standing on the red carpet a few paces away from where Y/n was posing for the cameras. Dressed to the nines in a black tux, Javy hyped up his fiancée like he always did at premieres and carpet events. This one happened to be at the 2022 Cannes Film Festival for the premiere of Elvis. “Give me face—yes ma’am! Work it-work it! Mmmh.”

Giggling the whole time, Y/n reaches out with her hand for him. He skips over, stopping to snap a picture on his phone. Pressing a kiss to her cheek, the two embrace for the photographers—who eat up every second they get with the couple. Ever since they announced their relationship in 2020 they were the it couple of Hollywood despite Javy not being in the industry. But his energy, personality, and of course his adoration for Y/n, made him well liked by her fans.

He worshiped the ground she walked on. Never did he give any indication he was with her for malice. Social media accounts he had were private and mostly to keep in touch with people he worked with. Her family loved him and his loved her. Whenever reporters approached him to try and ask invasive questions Javy would redirect to whatever project was staring in. “Isn’t the show amazing? I would say this is her best work yet—and the cast was amazing throughout.” He was definitely a keeper.

With similar personalities, though Y/n was more reserved in the public eye, the two were like a lock and key. Fitting together with a love so natural they couldn’t believe they got to experience it. They enjoyed going to concerts and the movies—getting into disguise whenever they didn't want the paparazzi following them. Sang and danced in the kitchen while they cooked, having their own karaoke parties with friends.

At one point in their relationship Y/n was to play a fighter pilot. So, what better way to prepare for the role than to shadow her partner and his colleagues. Once they got the green light from the Navy, Y/n had to do all the necessary training a pilot did to get into a jet. From there she was allowed to get in the backseat with either Javy or Natasha flying.

Flying with Natasha went smoothly….but her boyfriend was a different story. Of course she trusted him with her life and knew he would never put her in harm's way, but damn did he unlock his inner Maverick when she got in the plane with him.

“Javy Machado!!” She screamed, holding onto her seat for dear life when he flipped them upside down. “I swear I will kick your ass in the afterlife if you kill us!”

“Relax, baby,” he laughed, earning a groan from his girl. “I promise we’ll have a graceful landing.”

“It won’t be graceful when I’m puking my guts out!” She actually did vomit in the bag he provided her with before they took off. Instead of embarrassment she was just annoyed with him, but still enjoyed the ride no less. “I’m sticking with Natasha from now on.”

When it came to the squad, they were Y/n’s biggest supporters. After the initial shock and fangirl/fanboying—nearly shitting their pants at the fact their best friend was dating an absolute Icon—Y/n became part of their family. They pre-orders tickets to her movies, attending midnight premieres and after parties the actress invited them too. Sunday nights were reserved for watching her HBO shows, while Netflix series that were to binge watch were planned accordingly.

Nat loved having another gal in the group. It was a breath of fresh air and the two would go to lunch or have their own movie nights. “I’m surprised Machado hasn’t crashed in yet,” the pilot commented with a mouthful of popcorn as they sat in Y/n’s living room. Javy was in his office playing COD with the guys after pouting when Y/n said no to him joining in on their girl time.

“He’s occupied with his game. I’m surprised we haven’t heard any screaming at the tv yet.”

“WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT, JAKE??”

“Spoke to soon.”

The couple were stars at award shows. It was no surprise they were always the best dressed. People constantly tweeted their excitement to see them attend, and expressed disappointment when they would not. And often the two’s reactions to cringe/unexpected moments resulted in them becoming popular memes—something Y/n already had a reputation of long before they got together.

2022 Oscars? Y/n’s Twitter froze due to the amount of tags from the snapshot of her and Javy’s expressions to Will Smith slapping the shit out of Chris Rock. “Did he just—?” “he did.” “Holy shit. Where’s the popcorn—I feel I need some right now.”

2023 Met Gala? People kept replaying the moment the couple did a double take at seeing Doja Cat dressed up as Karl Lagerfields cat. “What the actual…” “now that’s what camp should’ve been.”

And of course they couldn’t forget the most recent one of their unimpressed look from Jimmy Kimmel’s monologue at the most recent Oscars. “Should I go up there and pull a—.” “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Machado.”

Expect YouTube to be filled with videos complications titled, “Y/n L/n & Javy Machado being flabbergasted at award shows for 15 minutes straight,” and, “Y/n L/n & her husband Javy being Hollywoods favorite couple.”

Then there was Javy’s to die for reaction to Y/n recieving her star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame at only 29 years old. The only other day besides their wedding day where the man was in a heap of tears. “I’m just—,” he sniffed, “so proud of you, baby. You’ve earned this.”

When it came to live reactions at events years after getting married and Y/n embedding her legacy as the greatest actress of her generation, let’s just say Hollywood’s Angel and the Navy’s Coyote would always be its champions.

………….

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