#so my boss had to step in like ‘no we will not discuss this now please come back in march’

[greaseonmymouth]

my brain has been offline since I woke up. apologies to my work inbox but the only thing I’m capable of today is hugging my hot water bottle and scrolling tumblr

[darkmatilda]

𝐞𝐱𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer never thought he’d be woken up in the middle of the night by a woman who didn’t even particularly like him, asking him to examine her breast. and yet, there he was.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist reader, mention of the case they're working on, reader thinks she might be infected by something dangerous, reader is half-naked, chemical nonsense and a made-up disease, reader is described with slightly longer hair, but that's just for the sake of the plot lol—you can imagine her however you want.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 3k

𝐚/𝐧: i know something else won the poll but i just couldnt stop myself from writing this. the next part will be one of your requests :3 (shoutout to @angellic4l for listening me ramble about this—btw i used some of her quotes here because shes my personal comedian)

"My weekend? Nothing special," Morgan began, leaning back against the hood of the car. His dark sunglasses had slid slightly down his nose, shielding him from the harsh sunlight beating down on the shopping mall parking lot where they stood. Or rather, where they waited.

"I promised Pen I’d drop by for the evening, but it kinda stretched out. Especially after she talked me into some wine..."

Spencer zoned out somewhere in the middle of that sentence, not even realizing when the words started slipping past his ears instead of through them. And he liked to think he was good at multitasking.

His gaze had been fixed for a while now on the police-secured entrance to the mall, where a woman in a protective suit was stepping outside, slowly peeling it off. The forensic team beside her started discussing something with her, but she barely acknowledged them, sliding the suit down to her ankles and stepping out—one foot, then the other. Underneath, she was wearing her usual formal attire.

Her lips moved as she replied, her face betraying nothing but focus. One hand reached up to push back strands of messy hair…

"…And then on Saturday, we got word from Hotch that he won a belly dance competition at the White House. So, obviously, we baked him cupcakes."

Morgan trailed off, waiting for a response. One of his eyebrows arched in that weird, expectant way.

Spencer realized, too late, that he hadn't been listening at all. Clearing his throat, he grabbed onto the last words still hanging in the air between them.

"Interesting. What kind of cupcakes?" he asked.

Morgan just shook his head, part disbelief, part something else Spencer couldn't quite read.

Reid frowned. 

"What? Something wrong?"

"Morgan. Reid."

Both of them turned their heads toward Hotch, who stood behind them with his usual seriousness—except today, it seemed even more intense. Not surprising, given the kind of case they were working on.

He must have been there for a while. For reasons unknown to Spencer, Derek’s eyes suddenly widened at the sight of their boss, like he was seeing him for the first time in his life.

Reid was starting to feel more and more disoriented.

"Want you to talk to the chemists and get their opinion. Especially in the context of previous incidents," he instructed them, one of his eyes drifting sideways toward his teammate’s face. The other man simply nodded, avoiding eye contact, his lips pursed slightly forward.

A phone rang. Hotch reached into his pocket.

"Excuse me," he said, stepping away. For a moment, however, he froze, something very odd flickering across his face. “Morgan. Just so you know, I'm currently cutting down on processed sugar, so cupcakes aren't the best idea. Just for future reference."

Derek squeezed his eyes shut for a second before nodding, muttering under his breath, I’ll keep that in mind. 

When their boss walked away, he fixed his gaze on Reid and shook his head.

"I hate you. I just want you to know that."

Spencer let his arms fall helplessly to his sides.

"I— I still have no idea what you're talking about. Did you tell Hotch about you and Garcia baking cupcakes? Did you offer him some? You know, you could have guessed he wouldn’t eat that kind of stuff while training for a marathon—"

"If you value your life, you better shut up already, okay?” 

"But—"

"You."

Their conversation was interrupted by the voice of a woman approaching them—the chemist Spencer had just watched removing her protective suit. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her stride as quick as ever, and her expression held nothing remotely positive.

Derek gave her a nod. "Why the gloomy face at the sight of two such handsome profilers?"

She scoffed with the purest form of mockery. All of it.

"Ouch…" Morgan hissed in fake pain, pressing a hand to his chest as if he'd actually been wounded.

Her gaze held a certain resignation. Spencer noted that her face had an odd look, as if some of its color had drained away.

"This gloomy face is the result of looking at a body so drenched in blood that I didn’t even realize the human body could hold that much," she replied dryly, sweeping her eyes from one of them to the other as if scolding them. Then, suddenly, her stare lingered on Morgan, and her expression hardened even further. "So forgive me if, after a sight like that, I’m not exactly radiating joy or giggling at the sight of you two handsome or not. Can we finally get to the point?"

Reid couldn’t suppress a small, petty spark of satisfaction at the look on his friend’s face. Probably the first time ever that he’d taken her side, and, to his surprise, her sharp remarks actually amused him. Turns out, when they weren’t aimed at him, he could appreciate how spot-on they were.

For a fraction of a second, the corners of his mouth even twitched upward—until he reminded himself that she was right, and they really should be getting back to the case.

"Actually, we were just about to talk to you," he said.

"Mm-hmm. Sure you were. Just standing here like two useless lampposts."

He changed his mind. He didn’t like her remarks after all.

To quickly sum up the case they were working on—they had been sent to another state where, over the past few weeks, four strange incidents had occurred. So far, they hadn't identified any connections between the victims, but each had suffered a mysterious attack.

More specifically, they had all experienced sudden, severe hemorrhaging from various orifices—gruesome and unexpected. It was different from their usual cases; the unsub hadn’t directly taken their lives, but they suspected some kind of foreign, unknown substance had been introduced into their bodies. How, exactly, was still a mystery.

The most recent attack had just taken place in a shopping mall. Given the nature of the crime, they were accompanied by their trusted team of chemists.

"What we've determined so far is, well," the woman began, her tone carrying a hint of irritation, "we're dealing with the same thing as in the previous victims."

Reid couldn’t help himself—he let out a short, amused scoff at the obvious conclusion.

"That was never in question," he said, shaking his head. "Anything more? Have you figured out what was administered? When, how?"

Her expression held a double dose of irritation—at him, obviously, and at the fact that her team hadn’t managed to figure out anything more.

"So far, we suspect that the method of transmission wasn’t through contact with a contaminated surface or accidental ingestion," she explained. "In other words, the most likely scenario is that it was introduced directly into the victim’s body. Did you see the other corpses? Any injection marks?"

Spencer exchanged a glance with Morgan, trying to recall. His friend slowly shook his head.

"We’re not sure," he admitted. "But a lot of their bodies were covered in a rash, which might’ve distracted us from spotting any puncture wounds."

The atmosphere between them shifted, thickening with realization. They were all arriving at the same unsettling conclusion.

"So, what—you think some mad scientist is cooking up potions at home and injecting random people? Just picking them out of a crowd and—"

"I don’t think so," Reid interrupted, thoughtful. "I actually wondered if the rash could be an early symptom. Which would mean the substance was in their system for a while before the hemorrhaging started—a buildup of symptoms leading to the final collapse."

"A fatal buildup of symptoms," the woman added, the memory of what she’d seen clearly flashing through her mind.

Morgan turned to Reid, his gaze sharpening. "So you’re saying the victims weren’t random? That there’s a connection?"

"Well, that’s what we need to find out."

To his surprise, the woman let out a quiet hum of agreement.

"You’d better," she said, though not in a way that suggested she was wishing them luck. "Because I never want to see something like that again. I’ll let you know if we find anything else."

With that, she gave a slight nod and walked off, heading back to her team.

Spencer watched her absently, his mind still running through everything they’d learned, trying to piece it all together. He was determined to solve this before another person ended up in the same horrific state.

That’s when he realized Morgan was staring at him.

"What now?" Spencer asked.

Morgan just shook his head, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

*

He was on the verge of falling asleep when someone knocked on the door.

And he knew he wasn’t imagining it—it wasn’t a hesitant, uncertain tapping but a determined pounding. Loud enough to jolt him out of bed. Spencer sat up, a flicker of unease creeping in.

The case they were working on required them to stay in a motel for a few days. It was small, dimly lit, but otherwise, he had no complaints. He assumed it had to be someone from his team—maybe Morgan, wanting to share some new findings, some breakthrough. Or maybe another incident had occurred?

That thought made him jump to his feet. Within seconds, the door swung open.

But it wasn’t Morgan standing there. It wasn’t anyone from his team.

"I need you to examine my breast," the woman said without so much as a blink, before he could even open his mouth to ask what she was doing there. "And not just that. But I figured I’d start with something that might keep you particularly motivated."

Her words might have sounded lighthearted—if not for her expression. Absolute seriousness, a clenched jaw, and something else in her eyes. Something he had never seen there before.

It took him a moment to recognize it.

It looked a lot like…fear.

"You need—you want me to…what?"

He knew he must have looked, to put it mildly, like a complete idiot—staring at her with wide eyes. The theory that he was dreaming suddenly seemed a lot more convincing.

Except…why would he be dreaming about something like this?

"You heard me," she replied shortly before simply letting herself into his room. She slipped through the partially open door so closely that her hip brushed against him by accident.

Spencer remained frozen for a few more seconds before finally snapping out of his daze. He shut the door and turned to face her.

That was when he noticed—she was wearing nothing but a satin robe. Definitely not something provided by the motel, which meant she must have brought it from home. She stopped just where her back blocked the light source in his small room—the standing lamp casting a dim, yellow glow that settled gently along the edges of her figure.

He watched as she took a breath.

"I was just about to take a shower," she began. Spencer could tell she was trying to maintain a calm and measured tone, which resulted in her speaking very slowly, emphasizing each syllable. "When I noticed…I think I might have been infected with whatever those victims had. During the examination, maybe my suit was compromised—I don’t know. I just…you need to look at it and tell me."

As Spencer looked at her—the quiet desperation woven between her words—he was reminded of how she had acted earlier in the parking lot outside the shopping center. Almost masterfully concealed, but still faintly present, was the lingering shakiness from seeing a victim in such a state. Unlike him, this wasn’t something she encountered every day.

And now, that same fear was written all over her. The terror that the same thing might be happening to her.

He felt something twist in his stomach, but he quickly shook his head. He had to be the rational one here, not let panic take over.

"But…you were the one who said it likely wasn’t transmitted through physical contact. That it was introduced directly into the victim’s body by the unsub. So how would you have gotten infected?"

"That was just our assumption. A theory. For all we know, we could be completely wrong, and this thing is highly contagious, and I’m about to collapse onto this…disgusting carpet and start bleeding out from my eyes, ears, and mouth right in front of your bed!" she snapped through clenched teeth.

She took another deep breath, this one just as shaky.

"So, please, just check. Tell me if my suspicions are correct, because if they are, maybe we still have time to—"

"Okay, just—calm down," Spencer attempted, stepping toward her.

"Oh, do not tell me to calm down. I will calm down when you check."

He stared at her for a moment, neither of them moving.

"Please," she added, her voice quieter now, tight with strain. "Seriously, what’s the harm? You might not like me, but I doubt you’d wish me dead."

Spencer pressed his fingers briefly to the space between his brows, shaking his head slightly.

"I’ll do it," he finally confirmed. He had to swallow before speaking again. "Jesus. Of course, I’ll do it. You didn’t have to guilt-trip me so hard."

Her chest rose and fell in what looked like relief, and despite the circumstances, he thought he caught the faintest shadow of a smile at his words. He found himself holding his gaze there, just for a second—before forcing himself to look away, silently telling himself to focus.

"Maybe…maybe you should step closer to the light," he suggested.

He forced himself to take a step closer—to her and to the lamp. She followed his instruction slowly, turning her back to him. From the movement of her hands, it was easy to guess she was reaching for the tie of her robe.

"Most of it is on my back," she explained, sliding the fabric down to her waist, exposing the bare skin of her back.

The motel lighting was far from ideal, and Spencer had no choice but to step in even closer. In fact, he had to stand right behind her, lower his head to focus on the small marks on her skin, partially hidden by her hair. He hesitated before moving his hand. Slowly—making an effort to steady his breathing so she wouldn’t hear how close he was—he slid his fingers under her hair, carefully sweeping it to one side.

She didn’t tremble, but her shoulders lifted and fell in an uneven rhythm, signaling a shift in her breathing.

He knew it was tied to fear and uncertainty, and he didn’t want to leave her trapped in that state any longer than necessary. At the same time, he couldn’t say with certainty whether the small bumps on her skin were the same ones they had found on the previous victims.

Swallowing hard, he leaned in even closer before pulling back slightly to get a wider perspective, comparing the shape, color, and pattern of the marks in his mind. The woman glanced at him over her shoulder. Noticing that he had drawn back a little, she must have assumed he was finished, because she turned to face him. Completely. Still without pulling the robe back over herself.

"There’s a bit here too. It’s the same thing, really, but it’s better if you check everything," she said.

Spencer’s gaze lowered—slowly—from her face, from her lips forming the words, down along the length of her body.

He really hoped his face wasn’t betraying him, that it showed nothing beyond pure, clinical focus. Especially since she hadn’t taken her eyes off him for even a second, searching his expression for the answer she so desperately wanted.

But he still wasn’t sure.

Something flickered in his mind—a thought, a doubt.

The problem was that forcing himself to speak felt almost impossibly difficult.

"May I?" he asked hesitantly, raising his hand slightly but keeping it suspended in place, waiting for permission.

"Well, if it’s necessary, doctor," she murmured, a husky note in her voice.

Spencer took a breath, trying to clear his mind, and slowly placed his fingers against the marks at the center of her chest, where they seemed to intensify toward the right side. He moved carefully, lightly, feeling the texture against her skin, tracing them with deliberate slowness. The moment the answer registered in his mind, he stopped abruptly and pulled his hand back, letting it fall to his side.

The woman's eyes widened in anticipation of his response.

"It's not the same," he blurted out, his voice sinking into a wave of relief that caught him off guard.

She raised an eyebrow at the certainty in his tone.

"Are you lying just to get rid of me?"

"What? No, look…or rather…okay, you don’t have a point of reference, but trust me. The rash on the victims’ bodies was different from this. Sure, the placement and distribution are similar, but theirs had raised bumps, while yours are flatter, almost embedded in the skin. Do you get what I mean?" he explained hastily.

It didn’t help that she still hadn’t pulled her robe back on, as if waiting for him to change his mind.

"Also, the color is slightly different, which I can tell even with this terrible lighting. You’re not infected."

She kept glancing at him with a certain skepticism. Slowly, unfazed, she slid both arms fully into the sleeves of her robe, covering her back. But before tying it, she focused on pulling her hair out from under the fabric.

"Then what is it?" she asked, furrowing her brows.

He had expected her to be happier when he told her she wasn’t about to bleed out from some mysterious substance in her system. Spencer shrugged.

"A regular rash, an allergic reaction—I have no idea," he admitted honestly. "Maybe it’s the motel water, the towel, the sheets…anything you’ve come into contact with," he suggested, watching as her lips pursed slightly. That reaction made him think he had probably hit the mark.

And now that the tension between them had eased—no looming threat of her imminent death and, perhaps less critically but still relevant, she was no longer standing half-naked in front of him—he allowed himself a small, amused scoff.

"Maybe your luxury skin just doesn’t get along with cheap motel bedding."

Her lips parted slightly, and for the first time in their entire acquaintance, she was the one at a loss for words. When she briefly dropped her gaze, he sensed…embarrassment?

Somehow, the thought that she might actually be flustered—because of him, no less—felt more abstract than the fact that she had just undressed in front of him.

"I should’ve known that," she muttered to herself. "It’s not transmitted through contact. My team already ruled that out."

So all of her embarrassment stemmed purely from the fact that she had second-guessed her own intelligence and judgment—not from the fact that she had barged into the motel room of someone who wasn’t even really a friend and asked him to examine her breast.

Spencer exhaled briefly, a flicker of disbelief passing through him as he processed that realization. But he didn’t comment. Because, honestly, had he expected anything different? This was her, after all.

Realizing it was all over, she turned on her heel and headed for the door with her usual brisk stride. One moment, she was in front of him; the next, she was already at the exit, pulling it open. He half-expected her to walk out without a word, slamming the door behind her in frustration at herself.

But at the last second, she turned her head toward him. First, she pressed her lips together—then a small smirk formed.

"Thanks, doc," she quipped. "That was a truly professional breast exam."

Spencer simply closed his eyes for a second, wondering if this was the moment he should officially add her to his list of the most unserious people he knew.

"You’re welcome. Seriously—tried my best."

yes, this was inspired by an x-files episode xoxo

[mimikittysblog]

The Princess

Pairing: Mafia! Husbands! Poly! Ateez x Fem! Wife! Reader

Genre: Angst, a good chunck of fluff, a HINT of smut (no actual sex scenes of the sorts but they’re quite sexual towards each other)

Synopsis: If ATZ were asked what their prized possession is, they wouldn’t say what you think. It isn’t the money, the cars, the jewels, the priceless paintings or anything of the sorts. As cheesy and unexpected as it sounds, they would answer each other. Now while on surface that is true, the reality of it is their most prized possession, their true treasure, the one they don’t even dare let people know they have in true fear of it getting taken away, is you. Their Princess. So what would happen when one night, you don’t come home?

Warnings: Kidnapping, major violence, implied sexual activity, death/murder (not of the major characters), alcohol consumption, Arson, MxM of course. So because of all of this please ⚠️MNDI⚠️ if I missed anything please let me know!

Word count: 5.3k words

A/N: It’s finally here!!! My goodness you guys loved that teaser 😭 I’m so grateful for all your enthusiasm! I hope this fic lives up to your expectations!! Happy reading!! Please tell me what you think! Likes, replies and reblogs are so appreciated!

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

On one side of the outskirts of town, there is this mansion belonging to a very interesting group of people. As of this moment throughout the gargantuan mansion, the sounds of fast paced footsteps can be heard. While loud or fast paced footsteps like these weren’t necessarily uncommon.

However somehow everyone who heard them deep down knew, something was wrong.

Suddenly said footsteps came to a stop as the sound of the door to the meeting room was opened.

Then the dreaded question was asked.

“My loves, have any of you seen or heard from Princess?”

Silence.

Just like that it became nothing but silence as all discussions of work seems to halt after hearing Yeosangs question.

“Is.. she not home yet?” Seonghwa asked softly.

“Well.. I can’t find her anywhere and she’s not answering her phone…”

“What?!” Wooyoung exclaimed as he quickly pulled out his phone and called her number.

Yunho took a glance to the clock on the wall and saw how late it was.

“It’s past her curfew. She knows she’s supposed to be home by now.”

“Forget that! She knows to always answer us. And she’s literally not answering us!” Wooyoung groans after the call goes unanswered.

“She’s just supposed to go shopping again!” Jongho exclaims.

The rest of the men in the room were silent. Frozen in fear and contemplation of what happened to you and where could you possibly be.

Suddenly they hear the front door open.

Believing its you, they wasted no time and quickly rushed down. However what they find are only your body guards, bloodied and bruised.

You?

Nowhere in sight.

At the sight of their bosses, your guards quickly got on their hands and knees. A position that screams begging for forgiveness.

“S-sirs! We’re sorry! So terribly sorry!! One second we were watching over her then the next we go-“

BANG

Hongjoong had no need for useless explanations or excuses.

His Princess was taken.

All he needs now is her back.

Mingi takes the gun from Hongjoongs hand and steps forward.

He kneels in front of one of the other guards and grabs him by the hair, positioning the gun under his chin.

“Where?”

“D-downtown! The alley near her favorite Chanel store!”

BANG

Jongho then takes the gun and aims it at the last guard.

“SIR! Please no forgive me!! I will find her! I will-“

BANG

Protecting you and making sure you come home safe was these guards only job. And yet they have failed.

Now they’ve lost you and to them there is no greater sin.

As Yunho is cleaning the blood off of Mingi’s face, Seonghwa turns to the maids and the henchmen stationed in the room. Clearly terrified as they’ve never seen their bosses so angry.

“Clean this up. We want this place spotless. Not a single trace of these sinners left behind. And get everyone to work. Find her. Check every corner. Turn every stone. Use any informant we have. Use any methods you can think of. Do what you must! And Find. Her. Now.”

With that they scrambled and quickly got to work.

Your husbands then left the room. Rage and determination emanating from their very being.

They will find you.

And those that took you will pay.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

At another mansion on the other side of town, much smaller than the one he calls home, San is residing. He's currently on an undercover mission to get information they need to get rid of this nuisance of a mafia.

This other group wasn’t really a threat. No one was. However they’ve been getting on their nerves for far too long. So they intended to just wipe them out for their own comfort. Silently, quickly and deadly. Like they always do. Furthermore it’ll maybe also send a message to other groups to not pull the same stunts.

So once they got wind of how the head of the mafia likes collecting and having ‘toys' around no matter the gender they knew one of them had to play the part.

After careful consideration and discussion they agreed upon San.

No one was entirely happy with the idea. They hated the thought that San had to flaunt what was theirs and let another man touch him, possibly even kiss him.

However they knew their options to make this quick were very limited.

They all drew the line that San cannot sleep with him though. Not like San ever wanted to anyway. He would rather die before betraying his loves like that.

Thankfully San knew how to play his part well, where he was fun enough to keep around even if he had yet to sleep with the man. Plus he's too pretty of an eye candy to be let go anyway.

However he still needed to get this information quick, cause he knew he couldn't play celibate forever. The man will eventually want to force him to sleep with him.

So he needed to get out of there before that happens.

Currently San is in the living room in nothing but a fur coat and his boxers, as how the man requests all his toys to dress, with said man and the rest of his toys.

He's just drinking his whiskey as the man plays, wishing he was back home.

When suddenly the door was slammed opened and a girl was thrown to the ground.

"Sir, we've retrieved what you've asked for!"

One of the henchmen announced loudly.

San acted uninterested and nonchalant as he usually does until he glanced at and unfortunately recognized the poor girl on the ground.

..Princess..?

Why were you here??

How were you here???

You’re supposed to be safe at home with the rest!

“Ah yes. So this is ATZ’s precious treasure.” The man said with a shit eating grin causing the diamonds in his teeth to shine in the light.

He then got up and made his way to kneel in front of you. The man then grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

San almost lost it.

How dare his filthy hands touch his Princess?! So roughly at that.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Let go of me you piece of shit.” You growled at him.

“Ah ah.. is this the way you talk to the only one that can spare yo- UGH! Fucking bitch!”

Before he even finished his sentence you spat straight into his face.

In retaliation he gave you a hard slap, knocking you down.

There your eyes met San.

While to an outsider San seemed unbothered, you knew your husband. He was beyond mad. So mad that the devil himself wouldn’t dream of messing with him.

You, of course, knew of his mission. So you understood why he had to just sit there and act like he didn’t know you.

You weren’t even upset.

You missed him too much. It was such a sight to see him again.

Especially in the outfit he’s in.

So you only give him the tiniest comforting smile. Letting him know that you’re okay.

“Lock her up. ATZ will come and find her soon. They’ll make the deal to get her back. And soon I’ll be the most powerful.”

As you were being dragged away, your eyes only lingered on San.

San could only take another sip of his whiskey, with only one thought in his head.

Oh how wrong this man was.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“What do you mean you have no leads?!?” Mingi barked at the henchmen who gave him the update. Or lack there of.

“I’m sorry sir.. we’re still look-“

CRACK

“We don’t need your useless apologies. Get out there and FIND OUR WIFE. NOW!” Mingi didn’t even let him finish before hurling a heavy desk ornament straight towards his head and yelling at him again.

Bleeding from the head but grateful it wasn’t from a bullet hole, the henchmen hurriedly staggered over to give Mingi, Yeosang, and Wooyoung each a kiss on their rings that dawn their middle finger. Once the obligatory task of showing respect was done he left the room to continue searching for the lady of the household.

The room fell silent again as Mingi walks over to the big portrait of his husbands and you right in the middle. Smiling so wide and beautifully. He’d do anything to make sure that smile stays forever on your face and for him to always see it.

All of them would.

You’ve only been missing for less than 24 hours yet that’s longer than any of you have been apart these past few years without reason. Along with the fact that they knew you were taken forcibly, unease would be an understatement to describe what Mingi and the rest of them are feeling.

Then after a sigh, Wooyoung reached over and rung a bell that was on the desk. Which caused a maid with a tray of glasses and Wooyoung’s favorite bottle of liquor to enter.

Wooyoung took the bottle, disregarding the glasses and took a swig.

“Have we heard back from San? He needs to come home now. I already hated that he had to do this. Now with Princess gone, I need to know that he’s safe too. And I’m sure he’d also want to find her.” Wooyoung rambled, jittery due to the present status of his lovers are up in the air.

“We just sent the message to him. He’ll respond soon.” Yeosang sighed, trying to reassure him by also softly grabbing his hand. However he also then poured himself some of the liquor and took a sip.

Suddenly a rushed knock on the door was heard.

“Come in!” Mingi yelled.

“Sirs! A message from Sir San!” A different henchmen hurriedly walked in and dropped a small note on the table.

“Good. Now leave.” Wooyoung said.

The henchmen nodded, also kissing the rings on their fingers before leaving.

Yeosang then took the note. It was only two words but it caused him to jump up from his seat. He bellowed for whoever was nearby to come in.

“Get Captain! We need to leave now!!” He ordered firmly.

“What?! What did he say?!” Wooyoung asked also jumping up.

‘Causing Mingi to also step forward curiously.

Yeosang merely had to show them the note for them to understand.

‘She’s here.’

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

Locked away in a small and quite frankly ugly room is currently where you are. Truth be told?

You’re just bored.

You wanted to go home.

Thats all.

You knew the second you were taken your husbands will bring upon hell on earth. So you’re just waiting for that to happen.

You’re not sure how they were able to figure out you were their wife in the first place though. Someone on your staff must’ve snitched. Well you can deal with them later.

Right now they just need to hurry and pick you up.

Ugh you bought such a pretty new dress to show off to them…

It’s probably ruined in that dingy disgusting alley by now.

Shame.

A loud thud can suddenly be heard outside of your locked door and it caused your heart to race. Soon the door unlocked to reveal the beauty that is Choi San.

“Sannie!!” You chirped excitedly.

You leaped from the bed only to be pulled back.

“Ugh! Stupid handcuff.” You grumbled. Completely forgetting it was there.

“Oh Princess!!” San said as he made his way to you in a flash, quickly uncuffing you. With a key you’re not so sure where he got it from. A knocked out guard possibly. No matter though.

As now with your arms free you can finally engulf your husband in a big hug once again.

“Oh my sweet darling! What happened?? How are you here???” He asked as he pulled away and checked every inch of you to see where you were hurt.

“I’m not sure my Sannie. One minute I was walking to the car then the next thing I knew these big oafs grabbed me and dragged me here. I’m fine though love! I promise! Minor bruises and scratches is all..” You explained and try to reassure him.

You knew it was in vain though as even a microscopic scratch on you will cause any of your husbands to go on a rampage.

The fact your old butler is now six feet under for giving you a small cut is proof enough.

“Princess.. you’re clearly hurt…” San said with a sigh. “We’re so sorry.. This should’ve never happened.” He apologized softly stroking the bruise on your cheek.

“Hush now my love. You know there’s only one way I could ever possibly be considered hurt. And that is if anything were to ever happen to my precious husbands. Only then. Will I ever consider myself harmed.” Pure love and sincerity lacing your voice.

A voice San truly does miss. It’s been weeks since he’s home. Oh how he misses it.

“Well it’s good to know the feeling is mutual darling. As seeing these bruises and scuffs on your precious skin brings me nothing but great agony and ignites a fire in me like no other.” He explained as he kisses each visible blemish and cut.

“Don’t worry Princess. The others will be here very soon alright? Just sit tight. I need to get back to work to avenge you darling.” Once finished with his reassurance that your husbands are on their way, he finally gives you a kiss you’ve been craving ever since he left the comforts of your home.

“Okay my love. Though do be quick. I’m awfully bored. Oh and by the way..” You start as you softly trail your hand down his chiseled body. “You should start dressing like this at home. I’m sure the others would also very much enjoy it!” You giggle as your hand made it to his crotch. Cupping it.

Oh you missed the little twitch it does so much.

“Ah yes, hmm your wish is forever my command Princess.” He replies with a chuckle. He then takes your hand and kisses the wedding band on your finger softly.

“I love you Princess. I’ll be back.”

“I love you too.”

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“Ah yes. Mr. Jeong. Welcome to my humble abode! I see my offer finally has caught your eye.”

Yunho doesn’t bother to reply before walking in.

“My, how rude you are. But very well. I’m sure you’re uneasy as.. something is missing.” The man then continues to taunt with a smirk.

Yunho’s face remains stoic, however his fist clenches a bit tighter.

“I have no time for your games.” Yunho simply states before letting himself into the mans office. Yunho then sits down and tells the man to do the same. “State exactly what it is you want. We’ll talk from there.”

The man lets out a scoff before sitting down across from him.

He then claps his hand which causes a very familiar man to walk in to bring in a tray of drinks.

“Thank you San.” The man says in a smirk, once again causing the diamonds in his mouth to shine.

San simply ignores him.

No longer seeing the need to act accordingly.

As San makes his way to leave, he gets stopped by a hand on his exposed abdomen.

“Excuse me. I don’t believe I’ve given you permission to touch my lovely toys.” The man warns Yunho.

Who is simply admiring his husband.

“Hmm… well, ‘your toy.’ Is quite the specimen I must say. Can’t seem to help myself.” Yunho says with a smirk towards San, running his hand up and down his body.

Oh lord how much they’ve missed each other’s touch.

With San’s back facing the man, he can’t see the smirk that San reciprocates to Yunho. Yunho lets out a soft chuckle before taking San’s hand and kissing his ring finger. That was unfortunately currently empty.

“Leave San.” The man growls.

San does. But not before softly grazing his fingers across Yunho’s broad shoulders.

“Odd.. he usually never lets anyone else touch him…” the man mumbles to himself softly. Too stupid to realize what’s going on.

“So you’ve stolen our Princess. Due to that you expect us to work with you. Is that it?” Yunho finally cuts to the chase.

“Well you’d do anything to get her back wouldn’t you?” The man replies cockily.

“Naturally.”

“Well then work with me. Then I’ll set her free. Simple!”

CRASH

“You’re a bigger idiot than we thought.”

Suddenly the sounds of bullets firing, screams and yells can be heard throughout the mansion.

The man, the coward he truly is, instinctively hides under the desk at all the noise. However that desks gets thrown off of him, revealing Yunho standing above him. Gun aimed straight to his forehead.

“Run.”

Without a second thought he books it out of the room. Only to be met with the bodies of his henchmen, maids and toys scattered about. Blood coating the walls and floors. He was frozen in shock. That is before a bullet goes flying near his head grazing his ear.

“AH!”

“I said. Run.”

The man once again runs, but also stupidly tries his luck and pulls out his own gun. Before he could even aim at Yunho, his gun was shot out of his hand.

“The more you try to survive. The less likely it’ll be the case. So when my husband tells you to run. You run.” Jongho simply states standing in the living room. Surrounded by dead bodies, shattered chandeliers, ruined paintings, and mangled musical instruments.

While he was devastated at the state of his fortune he was thankfully still smart enough to value his life more. So he began to rush again.

He thought that maybe he could take the shortcut that leads to his garage through his dining room. So thats where his running legs took him as bullets were still flying everywhere. So much so that he can’t tell which came from his own men and which came from ATZ.

As he made it into the dining room he was only met with the sight of his most precious car on top of his dining table.

“Oh? Were you planning on escaping with this? Hmm. That doesn’t seem possible now does it?” Seonghwa taunts while sitting on the roof of the car.

“All this over some girl?!?!” The man roars enraged of what has become of his hard work.

Seonghwa’s expression hardens in the blink of an eye. Without another word he stands and pulls out his gun then starts shooting at the man without mercy.

The man realizes his mistake too late and gets shot in the shoulder and grazed on the thigh. However the adrenaline pumping through his veins was still enough to have him dashing out of the room.

He no longer has a plan and getting slightly dazed from the blood he’s losing, he’s just trying to get out of there. He opens the nearest door to him hoping it’ll lead to an exit.

Unfortunately for him, once again he’s met with a horrible sight and sound.

“Ah! You’ve finally come to play!” Yeosang says with a smile laced with venom.

What the man has stumbled into is his indoor tennis courtroom. Where currently Yeosang and Yunho have gathered a bunch of his henchmen, somehow tied up their upper bodies, and made them into moving targets for their tennis practice.

Many of his henchmen had succumbed to their injuries and their blood has splattered and painted the walls, floor and ceiling.

Frozen in shock due to the gruesome display, Yunho took the opportunity to serve and strike a tennis ball straight to the mans face.

“Wonderful shot my love!!” Yeosang cheers.

“Your turn handsome.”

Yeosang then wastes no time before doing the same and hitting the man right on the crotch.

“Oops wasn’t aiming for that but I’ll take it.”

“I would say you got a higher score than me.” Yunho chuckles.

This man still doesn’t give up however.

Not like the boys wanted him too anyway. They always loved a challenge and this man hasn’t even payed a fraction of his sins.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

After hearing the commotion thats happening outside your ugly holding room, you knew it only meant one thing.

Your lovely husbands are finally here to pick you up.

While the man that thought he could have his way by kidnapping you was being dealt with, the door to your room opened revealing your knights in shining armor.

Oh my! They look absolutely gorgeous in their suits.

If circumstances were any different you would’ve happily have them take you right then and there.

“My loves!!!” You screeched happily and skipped your way over to them.

“Oh Princess!!!” Wooyoung exclaimed happily as he wrapped you up in his arms.

Seonghwa and Jongho doing the same.

“Are you hurt Princess??” Seonghwa asked worriedly. “Oh my you are! Oh we’re so sorry darling…” Seonghwa didn’t even let you answer.

“My loves I’m fine! I promise I’m fine! I have you here, I’m alright. Where are the others..?” You ask with a pout.

“Oh they’re dealing with pests right now Princess don’t worry. It won’t take them too long.” Jongho says with a soft comforting smile.

“Hmm alright.. are you three taking me home?”

“Yes we are darling! Come no- goodness! what an ugly room they kept you in!! Our Princess doesn’t deserve this?!” Wooyoung then exclaims when finally taking notice of the room. Genuinely upset that you were kept in such an ugly room.

“I know right?! It’s so tacky!!” You say with an eyeroll. Seonghwa and Jongho can only chuckle at your antics.

The three of them then safely brought you outside. Where you were met with Hongjoong waiting patiently on the hood of the limousine.

Also looking immensely good. As in ‘please fuck me right now’ levels of good.

Alas.

Circumstances didn’t allow it.

“Joongie!!!” You exclaim happily as you sprint to him.

Hongjoong quickly opens his arms for you. You jump into his arms as he picks you up and spins you around.

“Oh our Princess.. we were so worried. We’re so glad you’re okay!” Hongjoong sighs in relief.

“Of course I’m okay! You’re my husbands! Nothing will ever harm me!” You say with your gorgeous smile.

“You were taken sweetie.. We’re oh so sorry…”

“Oh enough with your apologies! I’m fine! I promise I’m fine! It seems like you guys constantly forget my vows! Now that hurts! You know I’m only ever hurt when you guys are!” You remind them.

“Well the bruises on your sweet body may not hurt you but they do hurt us sweetie. So that makes it hurt you!” Wooyoung explains going off your logic.

“Alright smarty pants!” You huff.

“Besides! You all bruise me constantly! Do you not?” You tease.

“Those are different love.” Seonghwa says with a knowing glance and grin. Stepping closer to you.

“You know that very well. Any bruising or scratches done to your skin that is caused by us is all because you wished for it. Done specifically for your pleasure.” Jongho says as he leans forward as well to kisses a certain spot under your jaw.

You quickly bit your lip to suppress the moan bubbling up your throat.

Once Jongho pulls away, and you’ve calmed down, you look at all of them properly and smile.

“In all seriousness I’m fine my loves. I really am. You’re here now. You saved me. Like I knew you would. What happened to me was not because of you. Someone betrayed us that I’m sure of and we can deal with that later. Now can you all just take me home?”

“Very well our sweet.” Seonghwa says with a smile as he steps forward to kiss the crown of your head.

As you were about to enter the car you noticed Hongjoong still just standing there.

“My love? Are you not coming with?” You ask.

“Not yet Princess. I need to watch over and there are things I must do. Go home with the others. We’ll be home soon.” He informs with a smile.

“Hmm very well… Don’t take too long though! Tell that to the others too! I miss my husbands!!” You grumble.

“And we miss you. No worries. Being away from you after everything that has happened aches me as much as you.”

“Hmm alright. See you soon my beloved.”

With a final flying kiss goodbye, you enter the car with the rest. You all then drive off as Hongjoong turns around and looks at the mess he intends to finish.

Back in what was once a mansion, with the help of his henchmen that are still abled bodied and loyal to him. The man that caused all of this is executing a plan of escape.

They were finally able to sneak past all of the chaos that was still happening, to the last functioning escape car they know of.

Or so they thought.

Before they could even start the car. That wouldn’t have worked anyway.

They noticed San standing in front of it.

With an expression none of them have ever seen.

“San..?” The man questions as he thought San would’ve been killed as well.

San without even thinking twice, pulls out his own gun and shoots the very last henchmen he had, dead.

Merely as second after their bodies slumped over, a fist slammed into the window of the mans side, cracking it.

“Get out.”

Laughed.

The man laughed.

Thats the only thing he can do in this situation.

Incredibly bloodied, bruised and broken.

With everything he had worked for.

Gone. In less than a 12 hours.

All because he thought he could kidnap you and get away with it.

He then finally got out and stood in front of Mingi.

Where Mingi happily grabbed him by the back of the collar and dragged him to the front of the mansion. Here he threw him down in front of the feet of his lovers that had stayed behind. Their sea of henchmen standing behind them.

Before Hongjoong even acknowledged him, he turned to San. Admiring his body that he missed as much as the others but then clicks his tongue. He grabbed the fur coat San was still wearing then asked.

“He gave you this?”

San simply nodded.

Scoffing he tugs on it more, silently telling San to take it off as he takes his own off.

“No husband of mine will wear such a cheap and ugly fur coat like this any longer.” He complains as he puts his coat on San.

Thankfully he wore the big sized one today. It fits San perfectly.

“H-husband..?”

“Yes. Husband.” Hongjoong replies still admiring San but now also running his hand up and down his body.

Now these are the touches San’s been craving for all these weeks.

“Oh which reminds me!” Yeosang exclaims before pulling out a familiar gold band.

Seeing this causes a huge smile to appear on San’s face and his eyes to light up.

As he did many years ago, Yeosang took San’s hand and slipped his wedding ring back right where it belongs. Kissing it to seal the deal.

“Hmm. Much better. Oh also! You should start dressing like this at home.” The smirk never leaving Hongjoong as he says it.

“I agree.” Mingi states.

The other lovers humming in agreement.

San could only chuckle.

“Princess said the same thing.”

“Well we must make it happen then.” Yunho said with a wide cheeky smile.

“What the fuck is going on?!”

Oh they forgot he was there-

“You really did mess with the wrong people you stupid man.” Yeosang sighs bored of the man already.

“I have a name?!”

“We clearly don’t care. And it clearly won’t matter anymore.” Mingi says with an eyeroll as he flicks open a lighter.

“So this is it? You’re gonna set me on fire?”

“Yes.” San says.

The mans eyes shot wide. Somehow not expecting the blunt answer.

“Not before you watch everything you have burn of course.” Hongjoong says as Mingi throws the lighter behind the man.

The lighter then lands in a trail of gasoline that leads to mangled furniture and fortunes that are strewn about, before leading to the actual mansion.

It doesn’t take long until everything goes up in flames.

The man watches in agony as everything. Everything. Burns. He then turns to the men and curses.

“You’ve taken everything.. literally everything. Must you really kill me too?” The man asks somehow still trying to make it out of this alive.

“I won’t bother you again… I’ll just vanish. Live a quiet life please. You won’t gain anything from killing me. You got her back!!!” He bargains.

SMACK

“Don’t even think about mentioning her again. No. Don’t even think about her. Your mind is not worthy to have her in it.” Hongjoong says after slapping him straight across the face.

“You’re right though. We won’t gain anything from your death. We won’t even gain satisfaction.” Yunho starts.

“However. We’re merely just punishing sinners.” Yeosang continues.

“Before you even bother. No. You haven’t suffered enough. Not even close. But we could’ve done much more. So consider yourself lucky. As of now at least. As we’re sure in hell you’ll suffer even more for what you’ve done.” Mingi adds with a gleaming smirk.

“You took our Princess. Your greatest sin and stupidest mistake. So for that. You must pay the price.” San explains further.

“To put it simply. You gotta die.” Hongjoong finishes as he steps forward and grabs the mans collar.

“‘Cause you being alive is still a sin in itself. Why? Well... you’re still breathing her air.”

And with that, Hongjoong merely gives him one last shove. Making the man fall back into the flames.

His screams of suffering can be heard for miles. However due to his extensive injuries it didn’t take long for said screams to just stop. Leaving nothing but the melody of crackling fire in the air.

Once that happened, Hongjoong lazily chucked in San’s old fur coat into the flames as well. Coincidentally the coat landed perfectly on the mans, now charred, body. This action actually made Yunho chuckle.

“Oh. Like he needed that. I’m sure he’s toasty enough.” Yunho commented sarcastically.

In turn causing everyone else to also let out a laugh.

“Well. Thought he might want to descend to hell wearing what he thinks is fashion.” Hongjoong reasons with a shrug.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

As the fire burned on ATZ and their henchmen just watched. Making sure everything gets burned to the ground. Took a while but it was beautiful in a way so they didn’t mind.

Once the fire started dying down the sound of a car approaching was heard.

Odd.

They were supposed to wait at home.

The car came to a halt and then the rest of ATZ exited. As they walked up to ones who were watching, the henchmen parted straight down the middle to make way before returning to position.

The rest that just arrived now stand next to the others as they also tuned in to watch the fire.

“Weren’t you all supposed to wait at home and keep Princess company?” Yeosang asked.

“Well we were. But we all missed you too much. And you know Princess loves watching the show. Plus.. she was getting needy for all of us.” Seonghwa explains with a subtle smile.

“Aaah I see. Oh! But she shouldn’t be breathing this much smoke though!” San says worriedly.

“Relax. We made her wait in the car. She can still view it well but she won’t be in harms way.” Jongho reassures before handing San a pair of pants.

“Good. Oh? What’s this? You’re not enjoying seeing me like this like the others are Jongie?” San teases.

Jongho simply rolls his eyes and ignores him. Biting the inside of his cheek hoping no one notices his flushed cheeks. Also trying to not look down at San’s bulge.

“I think he just doesn’t want to be distracted. This is the first time we’ve seen you in weeks Sannie. We missed you very much. You and your sexy body.” Mingi says as he nudges Jongho’s shoulder.

Jongho just softly nudges Mingi back.

“Just say you miss my cock.”

“We all do.” Wooyoung chirped in with a smack to San’s ass.

A couple of hours past before the fire finally dies down and the smoke begins to clear.

Their work here is finally done.

And just ust like that the car door then opens.

Then out walks you, their Princess, wearing one of your newest most lavish and expensive dress in your favorite color. You’re also all dolled up just for them.

At the sight of you exiting the car, the sea of henchmen that were still standing behind your husbands, quickly part to make way like before. However this time, they also got down on their knees, head down, in respect.

As they should.

“What a beautiful sight! Oh my loves you outdid yourselves with this one!” You praise them giddy as if you weren’t talking about the scene of a gruesome massacre.

“An appropriate punishment for such a sinner don’t you think Princess?” Hongjoong asks as he takes your hand.

“I suppose.” You hum as you stand beside him.

“Now that you’re done, can we please leave? I’m hungry!”

“Ah! One more thing before we leave!” Hongjoong announces as he walks towards the ashes.

In said ashes, there lies the skeleton of the man that started all of this. With a wide smirk on his face, Hongjoong carefully crouches down and picks up a small but very sparkly diamond from the teeth of said skeleton.

Hongjoong, smirk not faltering even a bit, makes his way back to you and takes your hand.

“What do you think princess? Shall we customize you a new ring?” He asks showing the diamond.

“Oh my! Yes please! Oh! And check for any more jewels that are left behind in these ashes and rubble! We shouldn’t let such pretty things go to waste.”

���Of course darling.” Jongho starts before turning his attention to the men that were still on their knees before you.

“You heard her.”

“YES SIR!”

Like that they all got up, bowed to you once more before rushing to the ashes where a lavish mansion once stood. In search of anything shiny that might please you.

“Hmmm can we pleeeasee eat now?” You ask with a pout.

“Yes we can our Princess. Yes we can.” Seonghwa tells you with a smile as they all lead you back to the car.

“Can we go to my favorite place tonight?”

“Anything for our Princess.”

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

Bonus ending! ♡

© mimikittysblog 2024

Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @puppyminnnie @borahae-reads @spenceatiny18 @justconniez @rosydipity @vtyb23 @beccaskz @boredlol914 @ntlmundy @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @ateezswonderland @peachyy-jooniee @robertsbbygirl @hanniehq @smally97 @pixie0627 @haven-cove @jaerisdiction @btskzfav @bbyunicornbby @tinybada @cecilleasworld @mudent @mortal-advocate @jjcanwrite

Those who are italicized I could not tag for some reason :(

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Tongue in Cheek - Yang Jeongin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: CEO jeongin x fem! reader

summary: your boss is up for a big promotion. There's just one problem, he told his boss that he's married. So he asks you to be his wife for just one night. But now this cold CEO is seeing you in a whole new light.

warnings: power dynamics, tooth-aching fluff, angst, kissing, did I mention fluff????

Jeongin slid a few papers around his desk. “Something you need?” He snapped, his tone exhausted and annoyed. His patience was wearing thin lately. You had noticed immediately, the way he moved around the office like every corner and seam of his heavy armor was starting to crack. He was stressed, he was nervous. You suppose that's why you agreed to this dinner in the first place. To help him out. That was the only reason you had agreed to be his “fake wife.”

“Sorry to bother you, Sir. But Mr. Kwon’s assistant called again to confirm that you- um, that we would be attending the dinner tomorrow evening.” You kept your eyes downcast, studying every fiber of his office carpet. A deep, intimidating red color that filled the entire room like an inferno. It's as if he wanted everyone that walked into his office to know that they were walking into Hell.

“Tell her that we'll be there at eight sharp. I want you dressed nicely. Take my card and buy yourself something expensive.” Jeongin's hand stretched out to reveal a heavy platinum credit card weaved between his fingers. You took a step forward but hesitated, your mouth parting slightly. Jeongin's eyes flashed up to you, his head still hanging down. “No arguments, just do it.”

And that was that. Because if Yang Jeongin told you to do something, then goddamn it, you better do it.

The night of the dinner was chiller than you had anticipated. The sun was going down sooner and sooner and cold air swept you up and pulled you inside of Jeongin's luxury car. It was warm inside with plush seats that hugged you better than your own mother. Was this what money could buy? You casually glanced at Jeongin's hand gripping the expensive leather of the steering wheel. He was wearing a shiny silver bracelet and a large, heavy looking ring on his middle finger. He had told you once that the ring was lucky and he would only wear it when he really, really needed it. Jeongin kept his eyes fixed on the road, focused and determined even in his driving. But soon his deep voice cut through the building tension. “Mr. Kwon is the man to impress, the man to be, the man to beat. But he is put off by the fact that I never settled down to start a family. He thinks it's abnormal for a man my age to not have someone.”

You kept your mouth closed tight. You agreed with Jeongin's boss, it was abnormal. Jeongin was young, attractive, and successful. So why hadn't he found someone? As if sensing your train of thought, he cocked his head towards you and raised an eyebrow. “It's not like I don't fuck, I just don't have time for a relationship.”

A relationship. He said that word like it was poison on his tongue. The two of you pulled into the long driveway of a sprawling manor you had only seen in magazines. The path was lined with lights and led you both to a towering front door that was painted the most intense red you had ever seen. You were starting to understand where Jeongin was getting his business inspiration. You stepped inside to see dinner already being set.

Five course meal. Five courses. There were nights when all you could afford was a cup of ramen and a few beers. This was how the other half lived. Mr. Kwon and his wife were both incredibly gorgeous. To look at them too long almost felt greedy. Mr. Kwon commented on Jeongin's cufflinks and his wife absolutely adored your dress. You found it easy to converse with her. A simple, sweet woman who meant well but was so detached from the real world that she was living in her own little fairytale. Jeongin and you had discussed a background story for how you met and what your wedding day was like in case anyone had asked. And to no one's surprise, Mrs. Kwon wanted to know every detail.

After a few glasses of champagne, you found yourself gushing about Jeongin. You spoke about his gentle demeanor when his mother or siblings call. You talked about his smell and the first time you knew you were in love with him.

Jeongin sat back in his chair and watched you. He watched you diverge from the previously discussed storyline that the two of you agreed on. He listened as you spoke honestly about your feelings and your ambitions and goals for the future. He felt a clench in his chest that he hadn't felt in years. You seemed to almost have a glow around you when you spoke. As if the roof opened up to let moonlight pour down over your entire body. And the dress you chose. Jeongin finally allowed himself a moment to admire and memorize every curve and dip of your waist and legs. He could feel his $300 slacks growing tighter by the second. Mr. Kwon stood from the table and announced that the men should adjourn to the other room for cigars and brandy. Jeongin let out a sigh of relief and quickly stood to follow the rest of the men but before he could leave you grabbed his hand and kissed his cheek. “Miss you already.” You said with a smile loud enough that the rest of the guests could hear. You gave him a quick wink before dropping his hand and returning to the dinner table.

“You got a good one there, Yang.” Mr. Kwon let out a large puff of smoke from his cigar. “Don't fuck this up. She's good for you.”

Jeongin fiddled with his own cigar, still unlit. He weaved it between his fingers. “Yes, Sir.” His mind was a million miles away. You have worked for him for three years now. He still remembers the day he hired you. The outfit you wore, the messy bun with frazzled strands of hair falling in front of your eyes. You were so nervous. But you were determined. He recognized that fire in your eyes. It was the same fire that burned inside him.

“Thank you for tonight. You were very convincing.” Jeongin had driven you back to your one bedroom apartment. You stood in the single step in front of your front door. You were actually eye-level with him now, your face just inches from his. “You're welcome. It was fun.” You confessed. You liked being a part of his world. Jeongin cleared his throat and smiled. An awkward, unsure smile that you weren't used to seeing. He gave you a polite bow and turned towards his car to leave. You felt a heaviness pull at your heart as he started to walk away. But before he got to the street he stopped. He turned on his heels to face you once again, his unsure smile now transforming into a devilish smirk. “The night isn't over. Technically, you're still my wife.” He took a few steps towards you. “Kiss me.”

The heaviness in your chest now felt like a balloon soaring high as you ran towards him without hesitation. You jumped into his arms and he held your leg with one hand and used his other arm to wrap around your waist, holding you close to him. Your lips crashed into his clumsily. Your mouths falling over each other until you slowly found a rhythm. It was the most romantic moment of your entire life and you never wanted it to stop. You kissed him over and over again. Some were slow and lingering while others were needy and impatient. You kissed him. Because if Yang Jeongin tells you to do something, then goddamn it, you better do it.

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[clockwayswrites]

Danny is a minx and I am not responsible for him.

Okay, so, you all voted and I, um, failed? We didn't get to cuddling. There should be cuddling coming? Idk, darlings, this was my third start on this and Danny took over. I've got no say in this anymore. Canon-typical violence, crude language, cross dressing, discussions of prostitution

---

“You think you can fucking play us like that?!”

The shout carried easily through the crisp fall air. Red Hood sighed and changed direction away from his safe house and towards the noise.

“—fuck you up for that! Give us our fucking money back!”

“Fuck you,” snapped back a voice that Jason had come to recognize over the last several months. Right then the words dripped in fake, but damn convincing, heavy Crime Alley drawl, but Jason knew it all the same. “If yous don’t got it, don’t bet it. If yous don’t got game, don’t play it.”

“Yeah, no, I don’t think a little girl like you gets to say how this goes,” a third voice growled.

Hood clung to the edge of the roof just long enough to drop silently into the alleyway next to the dive bar. From the quick glance sent his way he was only noticed by the damn minx, so he leaned casually back against the grimy brick wall and unholstered his gun.

“Right? Yeah! Yeah, bitch! You don’t get to say how this goes!” the first voice shouted again. The guy’s shoulders were squared up as if he was some sort of threat in his overpriced, knock off bomber jacket and ill fitting jeans.

It almost made Jason want to sigh.

Actually, fuck it, Jason gave in and sighed loudly, knowing how it sounded through the modulation of his helmet. Bomber Jacket and his buddy, I Swear This is Real Italian Leather, spun around and then cowered so quick Jason swore they gave themselves whiplash.

“So,” Jason said with every ounce of disinterest he could put in his tone, “how does this go? Because right now, I’m thinking that it’s you two who are gonna be going before I put bullets between your eyes.”

“Right, um, yes Red Hood,” Bomber Jacket cowered and grabbed desperately at his friend’s pleather jacket to pull them out of there.

“And gentleman,” Jason said, making them freeze in their steps, “next time you lose your money to a pretty lady, you leave her the fuck alone about it.”

They nodded frantically as they backed the rest of the way out of alley and then took of running.

“I think you made one of ‘em piss himself,” the minx said, looking from the alley way to Jason with those striking aqua eyes.

Jason just shrugged and holstered his gun. “Probably.”

The short, tight skirt clung to the minx’s legs, pulling up enough with the sashaying steps that Jason had to wonder how everything stayed hidden. He kept still as fingers tipped in bright pink nails walked their way up his chest to the red bat. Aqua peered up from below thick, dark lashes. “And did I hear right? You think I’m a pretty lady?”

“Hair is nice like this,” Jason said brushing a gloved finger through the black strands that just brushed the edges of the chin. “But surprised your cock isn’t hanging out of that skirt with how short it is.”

Danny let out a started laugh, resting his forehead against Jason’s chest for a moment before he patted it and backed up to a more respectable distance.

“Duct tape and body shapers works miracles.” The fake Gotham accent was gone and replaced with the faint Midwestern drawl that Danny only seemed to let out around Red Hood. “And don’t make that face, the duct tape is outside of the panties.”

“You can’t see my face,” Jason pointed out, a bit grumpily because he had been grimacing at the thought.

“I was still right though,” Danny said with a smug little smiling pulling on his cherry red lips. It was a good color on him. He leaned back against the wall and spread his legs in a way that Jason couldn’t help but follow with this gaze. “Everything is fine down there, Boss, just a little squished. Offer’s still on the table if you want to check out the good. No charge for my darlin’ knight.”

Jason snorted at the continued offer from Danny; it was practically as good as ‘bye’ between them at this point since Danny seemed to offer it every time. “I’m not going to be one of your Johns, Danny.”

“Told you no charge. Could just be two people who like sex,” he offered with a little shrug, but pushed himself off the wall to leave. No, Danny pushed himself up off the wall with a wince.

Jason was at his side in an instant. “One of those fuckers get you?”

“No, so no hunting them down,” Danny said. His voice was confident, but the way he actually leaned on Jason’s offered arm was worrying. “Just a bad John— ex John. That’s why I’m sharking pool instead of working the corner.”

As if Danny had to work an actual corner anymore. He appealed to a very specific type of client that could pay to have something pretty and convincing on their arm and still get what they wanted between the legs and in the sheets.

“You taking anything for it?” Jason asked.

Danny just shrugged. “Nah, Boss, nothing over the counter works on me really.”

“Clinic?”

Danny snorted. “As if. They can test for STDs and that’s about as much as I want a clinic near me.”

Jason resisted the urge to cuss at Danny. He got it. After all, he only trusted Leslie or Alfred really— or a family member in a pinch.

Maybe he could just bluster Danny into getting some help. “Right, come on.”

“What?” Danny asked, digging his heels (and fuck those were some heels) into the ground.

Not willing to put with that right then, Jason just swung his arm under Danny’s legs and scooped him up like he was nothing. Fuck the Johns really had to be able to throw Danny around if they wanted that sort of thing.

“Boss, Hood, what the fuck?!” Danny hissed.

“Safe fucking house is what the fuck so I can check you over.”

“Boss, if you wanted in the skirt—”

“Danny, shut the fuck up and let me make sure you’re alright, alright?” Jason asked, looking down at him.

Danny stared back with a frown. Then his sighed, like it was the biggest concession in the world to make. Finally he rested his head against Jason’s chest. “Fine, Boss, whatever you say.”

“Thank you,” Jason said, more gently than he meant to.

-

Jason had to suck in several careful breaths as he took in the wound splashed across Danny’s ribs. “No fucking John did that to you and if they did—” if they took some sort of hot poker to Danny’s side— “I’ll kill them if they did.”

[hyunjincanraptoo]

Uno and chill- H.HJ (part 2)

After promising posting part 2 the whole week, it's finally official hehe sorry it took so long, I was very tired. And I don't remember if Hyunjin has short or long hair in the other part so pretend that his hair just grew.

I also want to share with you that Sunday we will have an Easter special fic AND a new prompt list coming out, so stick around 😊

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: smut, dom!reader

Part 1

Alexa, play Red Lights by Hyunjin & Bang Chan

You weren’t ready.

Months had passed since that night. That game. That kiss. Since Hyunjin flipped a hidden card with a smug grin and wrecked your life in the most delicious way possible.

But now you were in his city— Seoul.

And your job had decided to partner with his group.

Of course, the universe had a questionable sense of humor.

You fidgeted with your badge, trying to act professional as you walked into the studio with your team. Stray Kids was already there, cameras flashing, makeup artists touching up, stylists fluttering around like anxious butterflies. It was chaos.

And then you felt it— eyes on you.

You didn’t have to look to know it was him standing up so suddenly his chair almost overturned.

“UNO GIRL?!”, he said way too loud.

You froze. Literally froze in place. Several heads turned. One of your coworkers blinked in confusion. Your boss narrowed her eyes.

You stormed across the room, grabbed Hyunjin’s sleeve, and yanked him down the hall, ignoring his laughing protests.

The second the bathroom door closed behind you, you turned on him. “Are you trying to get me fired?”

He leaned against the counter like he wasn’t the problem, “I missed you too”

“Hyunjin”, you hissed “Shut up”.

Of course he didn’t. Instead, he stepped closer. “Come on. Months without a single text? That’s cold, even for you”

“You were the one who didn't text me! I left my number on that damn Uno card! But since you didn't say anything, I figured you were busy, you know. Being famous, body rolling on stages, choking random fans in hotel rooms”

His grin turned dark at that, “Oh? You remember that part?”

And before you could answer, he dipped his head, brushing his lips against your neck. His voice dropped low and wicked.

“Right here, wasn’t it?”

You inhaled sharply.

He kissed the same spot again. Slower. Then let his fingers rest lightly at your throat, the memory of his grip making your breath hitch.

Then, his voice tone shifted to lower, rougher. “Did anyone else touch you, these last few months?”

The question wasn’t fair. Not with the way his body crowded yours. Not with his hand on your skin and his mouth so close.

You shook your head, “N-No…”

He smiled. Not sweet, not soft— satisfied

“Good”

Then he pulled back, just enough to meet your eyes. The heat in his gaze didn’t fade.

“Wait for me when this ends”, he said simply, “Don’t run again”

And with that, he turned and walked out of the bathroom like he hadn’t just unraveled you in under five minutes.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

You were useless for the rest of the photoshoot.

Every time you tried to focus, your thoughts spun back to that damn bathroom. His fingers ghosting over your neck. The way he said ‘good’. The way he looked at you like you were still his— like you never stopped being.

Your coworkers were reviewing lists and discussing lighting setups, and all you could do was stare.

Because Hyunjin was performing for the camera like it was foreplay.

Eyes half-lidded, tongue peeking out, unnecessary body rolls paired with smirks aimed directly at you.

And he knew it.

He’d glance your way after every shot, lips twitching like he could hear your pulse from across the room. The worst part? You were pretty sure he could.

By the time the shoot ended, you felt like you had survived a silent war.

So when your phone buzzed, you didn’t even hesitate.

Unknown number: ‘Meet me at the back lot. I’m taking you home. Changbin will be out. We’ll be alone’

The text alone did unspeakable things to your already chaotic mind.

You slipped away from the team, heart hammering in your chest like you were sixteen sneaking out to meet a boy who already ruined you once and was definitely about to do it again.

He was waiting by a black van, dressed in sweats and a hoodie, mask tugged down just enough to show the smirk he wore like an armor.

“Took you long enough”, he murmured.

“I had to make sure no one saw me”

He leaned close, lips brushing your ear again, whispering the way he did hours earlier, voice dripping heat and memory.

“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll be screaming loud enough later that someone will”

And then he opened the door for you, like a gentleman.

A very, very troublemaker one.

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Hyunjin’s dorm was unexpectedly cozy. You hadn’t known what to expect— maybe something cold, minimalist, like the carefully crafted parts of his idol imagine. But it was the opposite. It was soft, warm with books stacked in the corners, half burned incense on a small ceramic dish, and blankets draped over the back of his couch like he had tried, but failed, to fold them neatly.

You barely stepped inside before he pulled you close and leaned down, his breath warm against your mouth. 

“I missed these lips”, he whispered, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip before leaning in to kiss you.

But you stopped him, palm to his chest, grinning, “Wait… what about the rematch?”

He blinked, then narrowed his eyes playfully, “You’re serious?”

You crossed your arms, “A bet’s a bet. You cheated at Uno, remember?”

He groaned, “I don’t even have Uno!”

“Okay, then what do you have?”

Hyunjin sighed dramatically and walked over to a cabinet, “Let’s see… Monopoly, Jenga… ”. He turned around slowly, raising a brow, “Twister”.

You bit your lip, holding back a laugh, “Perfect”

A few minutes later, the colored mat was rolled out on his living room floor, and Hyunjin was stretching like he was preparing for the olympics.

“You’re way too excited for this”, you said, standing opposite him.

He grinned, “You have no idea”

From the very first spin, the game was doomed— not because either of you lacked skill, but because you both had absolutely no intention of keeping it innocent. Every move was a flirt, every stretch, an excuse. His arm brushed against your chest “accidentally”. You moved your hip back into his crotch on purpose, biting back a smug smile when you heard him suck in a breath.

“Left foot red”, you announced, glancing up just as he struggled to reach over you. His shirt rode up. His hips brushed yours. And when you arched just slightly against him— just for teasing— he slipped.

With a dramatic gasp, Hyunjin’s balance gave out and he tumbled forward right on top of you.

The two of you collapsed into a messy heap , him hovering above you, chest to chest, lips a whisper away from yours. A sharp breath caught in your throat as he braced himself above you, palms on either side of your head, your bodies perfectly aligned, his thighs caging yours. His chest heaved. So did yours.

“Oops. Guess I lost”, he said, not even pretending.

You blinked up at him, trying to keep your voice steady, “So… wanna know what’s the prize this time?”

His eyes darkened instantly, already leaning in, “Kiss for a kiss?”

You smirked “No”

He blinked, “No?”

“I wanna tie you on the bed”

That shut him up.

His lips parted, and for a second, he looked like he might combust on the spot. But then a delicious, dangerous smile curved his lips.

“A bet is a bet, right?”

𔓶𑇓𝆬 ͙࿐𓈒ْ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

All the warmth of the dorm extended to Hyunjin's bedroom. The lights were low, dark wooden shelves held a variety of things. His bed wasn’t particularly big, but the sheets were soft and there were too many pillows. A small vinyl record player sat on his desk, with a stack of albums in the corner.

But what changed everything— what shifted the mood— was when he pressed a small button near his nightstand and the entire room bloomed red.

Not bright. Not harsh. Just deep, ambient red light that gave the walls a velvet tone.

He watched you from the middle of the room, already shirtless, his skin flushed in the glow like something out of a dream. 

“Just helping set the mood”, he murmured, trying to act cool but the flicker in his gaze gave him away. He was nervous but still excited for whatever was coming.

You walked slowly toward him, holding the soft tie in your hand—  the silk scarf you were wearing earlier that day.

“Strip and lie down”, you said softly, “Face up”

Hyunjin swallowed, nodded and obeyed.

He looked stunning under the red lights— flushed cheeks, tousled hair, chest rising and falling a little too quickly. You took your time tying his wrists to the headboard, fingers grazing his skin a little longer than necessary, enjoying how he shivered beneath you.

“You good?” you whispered.

He nodded, eyes fluttering closed for a second before opening again. “What’s the safe word?”

You smirked, “Let’s keep it classic. Uno” 

He groaned, “You’re mean, cold as ice”

Something he said flipped a switch in your head. “Ice”, you murmured, then leaned in, your lips brushing the corner of his mouth, “That’s a great idea”.

You stood slowly, walking toward the dorm fridge, ignoring his protests. “Where… where are you going?”, he asked, voice raw.

You didn’t answer, just pulled open the freezer, grabbed a single ice cube, and held it up between two fingers like it was something precious.

When you entered the bedroom again, his eyes widened slightly, flicking from your hand to your smirk, “Wh– what are you gonna do with that?”

You settled back on him, straddling his hips, dragging the ice slowly along your own collarbone. “Just thought we could play with some… temperature control”, you whispered, letting a single cold drop fall on his chest.

He shivered violently, a helpless sound slipping from his throat.

The next trail of melting water you traced along his stomach, circling his navel before heading lower. His muscles tightened beneath your touch. He tried to close his legs, but your body pinned him in place.

“you don’t get to squirm”, you said, licking a drop off his skin before it fell.

Then you hovered just over his cock, the ice cube now resting against the fabric of his boxers, soaking a dark patch into the thin material. He gasped, hips jerked, and you responded immediately, “Didn’t I say no moving?”

“Fuck, baby… please”, he moaned, nearly breathless, “You’re driving me insane”.

You smiled, dragging the ice up his chest again, this time letting it melt fully between your fingers and drip across his nipples. His head tipped back against the pill and Hyunjin sank his teeth on his bottom lip.

“Say the safe word if it’s too much”, you whispered, watching him twitch.

“Uno…”, he gasped, eyes wild.

You raised a brow, “Already?! Do you really want me to stop?”

He swallowed hard, lips parting but no answer came.

You leaned down, licking the water from his neck, voice sultry against his skin, “That’s what I thought”

You finally got rid of both your underwear. Then you moved, lowering yourself onto him inch by inch, cruelly slow. His entire body arched off the bed, a choked sound slipped from his throat— something between a gasp and a growl.

“F-fuck, you feel… so damn warm, baby, please…”

“Ah- ah”, you said, your hand sliding back to his throat, not pressing, just resting there, “You don’t get to move yet”.

He moaned, eyes wide and pleading, hips twitching involuntarily as you rolled your own in slow, merciless circles. “I…  I couldn’t help it”, he panted, “You’re torturing me”

You leaned down until your lips brushed his ear, “That’s the idea”

Then you rocked forward again, achingly slow, dragging your nails down his chest just enough to make him shiver. His hands strained uselessly against the scarf, mouth open, eyes squeezed shut like he was trying not to completely lose it.

You kept the rhythm slow, steady, sensual. Grinding down hard one moment, then lifting off just enough to make him whimper. Every time he begged, you clenched, pulsing around him until he twitched and throbbed beneath you.

“You’re not very obedient tonight”, you said sweetly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Should we come up with the safe word?”

Hyunjin gave a breathless laugh. “God, yes. Please.”

He moaned loudly as you bounced once,  hard enough to take his breath away, before going right back to a slow grind.

 “Then, say it”

A few more moments passed in pure torture. Every movement from him, every twitch, every sound was met with delicious punishment— either a clench, a tease, or you pulling off him entirely just to make him beg.

And he did.

Over and over.

Until, finally, he cracked. “Uno. Uno, Uno. Fuck… please"

You slowed, eyes locked on his, but didn’t stop.

“Humm. That didn’t sound very convincing”

“I said the safe word”,  he groaned, hips jerking.

“And I heard you”, you smiled, devilish, “But I thought you liked someone cheating”

His mouth fell open in disbelief then you clenched again, and his head dropped back with a curse.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna die”

”I’ll stop if you want me to”

“No”, he groaned, helpless, “Please don’t stop. Please don't”

“So desperate”, you whispered, “Such a good toy”

He whimpered, fingers curling as you rode him harder now, driving him insane.

You felt it when he started to fall apart, the way he trembled under you, the way his moans turned breathless and broken.

“I’m close… I’m so close… please let me come”, he cried out.

He was trembling beneath you, wrists flexing against the silk you’d tied them with. His eyes followed your every move— hungry, desperate, and glassy with need.

“Yn…” he whined, voice wrecked.

You tilted your head playfully, “Hum?”

“I c–can’t take it anymore, please… I have to… .”

He let out a needy whimper, the kind that only made you feel more powerful. Your hips rolled forward before stopping completely, just to make him lose his sanity, still not giving him what he wanted. His eyes fluttered shut, jaw clenched hard.

“You’re being so good for me, Hyunjin”, you murmured, your fingers trailing back up to his face, brushing over his cheek and lips. He leaned into it, greedy for your touch, chasing your hand like it was oxygen.

His legs shifted restlessly under you, thighs trembling from holding back.

His eyes snapped open, blown wide with lust and submission. “Please… I want to come inside of you. I need to release everything inside you. Please, Yn… I can’t hold it anymore, just let me”

A grin curled on your lips. You leaned in, slowly dragging your hips forward, “Did I break you, baby?”, you whispered.

His hips jerked beneath you, entirely involuntary. “Yes”, he choked out, “You broke me. You fucking ruined me”.

Satisfied, you untied one of his wrists slowly. Then the other.

And then, you finally moved again, lips meeting his swallowing desperate moan with a kiss as he clutched your waist like a man drowning.

His whole body shuddered underneath yours, forehead pressed to your shoulder.

“I missed this”, he groaned, “I missed you”

You established a torturously slow pace, your hand tangled in his hair, the other pressing gently into his chest to keep him down and still.

“I’m not done playing”,  you whispered.

“God, I’ll play forever if you ride me like this…”

And when he finally came undone, it was with your name on his lips like a surrender. His body trembled as he spilled into you, but you didn’t stop. You rocked through it, pulling another whimper from him, dragging out every last wave of pleasure until he was completely spent, blinking up at you like he couldn’t believe you were real.

 You followed just moments later, collapsing against his chest, both of you panting and tangled and wrecked.

The two of you stood there— breathless, dazed, ruined.

And when he finally caught his breath, he looked up with a cocky grin.

“This time”, he said, voice hoarse, “you cheated. I said the safe word. Multiple times”

You leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth, “I learned from the best”

The silence stretched until a voice from the other side of the dorm wall broke it—  Changbin’s voice

“Are you done torturing him now or should I grab my noise canceling headphones again?!”

You both froze before bursting into laughter.

He looked at you and smirked, “Round 2, just to piss him off?”

You smirked back, just as mischievously, "I'm in”.

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[whore-ibly-hot]

Yan!Husbands Boss x Married! Reader

"Just Another Day at The Office."

18+ Minors DNI

Warnings: Dub-con, misogyny, name calling, nude photos, coercion, dubcon touching, fem genitalia for reader, mentions of divorce, general perversion, praise, clit play, cheating, readers husband is a scumbag.

(AN: Requested by an Anon early today, and it made me feral.)

Tick... tick... tick... the sound of an office clock rings in your ears, the only sound louder is your heart, pounding in your ribcage. The clock was awfully loud, though you had never noticed it before, when you were coming to bring your husband a warm, home-cooked meal. Maybe then you didn't notice it because you weren't fearing for your future.

Morgan & Cole, the investment firm your husband had been working for for years had been doing better than ever, and in turn, so had your husband. Promotions, expensive raises, and more had been sent his way. The house was even being repainted. All that begs the question, how had you found yourself in this situation.

It was a few nights ago when your husband informed you of the deal he had made with his boss. Morgan, the co-owner of the company, had his sights set on you, apparently. At a holiday party, he approached your husband with an offer, an offer to get a night with you in exchange for another fat raise. You had always known your husband hadn't been the most loving, but you had never imagined his greed could get to this. The worst part was how casual the deal he described was. Approaching a man at an office party and asking to sleep with his life like you were discussing sports frightened you. You had only met Morgan once or twice, and while he seemed charming, him doing something like this made you very much doubt he was in actuality.

You are snapped out of your thoughts by the sound of a door opening. Morgan steps out of his office, fidgeting with his smart-watch when he looks up and sees your meek form in the office lobby. His brow furrows.

"Oh, Mrs. Peters, I hadn't expected you to met me here. I had intended to come pick you up. How long have you been here?" He asks. You gulp. "Not long, just ten or so minutes." You say, trying to hold eye contact. He sighs and shakes his head. "Well, I wish you would have knocked on my office door, I feel awful having left you out here alone. Come, we can head back into my office and chat." His voice is so soothing, and in any other situation it would have been nice. You enter his office, and he closes the door behind him, before sitting at his desk. You take the chair in front of it.

"So, I assume your husband-" His teeth grind as he says this. "Is assume he has gone over what this is about." You nod. "He did... and... and I don't know if I can do this. I don't know you at all, and I'm a married woman." You whimper. Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, and Morgan sighs heavily. He comes around to lean back against the front of the desk, one hand supporting him while the other touches your cheek.

"I know this must be scary, I understand that. But I'm gonna solve both of those problems right now." He kneels down so your eyes meet his. "First, you worry you don't know me. Let me fix that. My name is Morgan Brant, I am thirty-two, and I live in a loft down on 37th. I like charcuterie and making my own organic lattes. I work out everyday, and enjoy walking through the city. I have both of my parents, Ruth and John, and they live in the city as well. Anything else you'd like to know?" You're too stunned and still panicked to respond, so you just shake your head. "Okay, okay. Good." He murmurs. A hand strokes your hair softly, as if trying to soothe a wild animal. To your shock, for a man who basically paid for a co-workers wife to prostitute herself, he does seem genuinely upset at your fear. His eyes are filled with a sorrow, and he chews his bottom lip nervously. He looks down for a moment.

"Mrs. Peters, your second concern, about being a married woman, is very respectable. I appreciate that you respect the sanctity of marriage so much. I think your loyalty and love for your husband is beautiful." He pauses, and gently grips your chin so you look him in the eyes. "But... I worry that love and loyalty may not be returned. Mrs. Peters, I need you to promise me you will listen to what I am about to tell you." You gulp, his suddenly serious, yet still soft, tone worries you.

He stands, walking to the back of his desk and opening a drawer, grabbing a manila envelope before sitting down at his chair again. He pushes the envelope towards you, folding his hand together and sitting up. He looks as those this odd exchange is yet another business deal, as he sits like a man prepared to do whatever it takes to seal a deal. A real businessman. Your hand trembles as it opens the envelope. Your heart stops.

Inside, your husband can be seen in several photos, from many different angles. Some looked ripped from security footage, others appear to be taken at a distance. However, they all contain the same subject. Your husband, locking lips with various women, every photo a different one. Your hand covers your mouth as you let out a choked sob. "N-no... I mean, he was never warm to me, b-but..." Everything comes crashing down at once. All those nights you waited up for him when he was 'working late', all those warm meals you brought him at work, only to be brushed off so he could talk to his secretary. It all made sense.

"I can't believe this..." You squeak. Morgan shakes his head. "You can believe it, I know you can. He's never loved you, I've seen how he treats you. Rejecting your meals, ignoring you at office parties and work functions. My dear, he is actively sitting at home and preparing to count the bonus he received for pimping you out to me." Morgan exclaims, his shoulders tightening. You put your head in your hands. "I'm... what am I going to do?! I'll divorce him, but I'll have nothing. I, oh god." You cry. Morgan once again moves to try and comfort you. His broad arms wrap around your shoulders.

"I know, I know this is scary. You've been through a lot tonight, your entire marriage even. But it's going to be okay." He cups your face. "I've been watching the two of you, you mostly." He hands you something. An empty tupperware container. "This is from his lunch yesterday. Every meal he rejected from you, I gladly took. I hadn't had the chance to eat something made so lovingly in a long time. They don't serve home-cooked meals like this at business conferences." He chuckles. "I saw how you would cling to him at those same parties he was ignoring you at, and wishing, praying you would cling to me like that." You look up, his confession is shocking. "Your husband... he is a greedy man, but he has pride. I knew I wouldn't even get a moment along with you unless there was something in it for him." He shakes his head. "Darling, I was just as disgusted as you were that he'd agree to that. As excited as I was, as I am for this moment with you, I was thanking whoever is out there that no other person at this office had tried something similar. I'm not some deviant, or criminal. I've had my fair share of sexual encounters, with prostitutes and escorts, but... I never felt anything. I need to feel something. I do with you." He says.

You shake your head. "You don't know me." You say. He shrugs. "You don't need to someone to love them, not at first. I hate to say this, but you didn't really know your husband, did you?" You sob again, and his sticks his hands out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry darling, that was out of line. I just needed to prove a point. What I'm saying is, I don't just want one night of pleasure with you. I want you to be mine. If you left him, you wouldn't be lost or desolate, you would have me. I could give your everything he has and more. Money, a penthouse, and my love. Real love. You deserve someone who wants to care for you the way you cared for that man-child. I can do that." You sniffle. "It's all so soon, and I don't... I'm scared." You say again. "I know. I hadn't wanted to do this here. I had wanted to show you the pictures and confess early on, I had plans to pick you up and take you somewhere nice to eat. I know the last thing you want right now is a fresh new relationship, I understand. But just maybe, the idea of revenge tempts you?" He suggests. You look up, and bite your lip. "What are you suggesting?" You ask.

"He thinks he's better than you, and that you could never leave him, because you have no one else, nothing else. Why else do you think he assumes their will be no repercussions for a night like this? He's so confident that you would never leave him, never even think about another man, that he truly believes you will return to him after he's pimped you out." Morgan moves closer. "I won't lie, I'll enjoy this, but don't just do it for me. Do it for yourself. Give in, leave him for a man who will worship you, who can give you more. Get back at him, and be with me." You shake your head. "You... you paid him to pimp me out to you like this though?" You exclaim. He nods "I had to show you how little he cared for you, same with the investigators I hired to get those photos." He nods in the direction of the envelope, now dabbled with your tears. "Besides, I've already signed his termination papers, I don't hire men like that here. He isn't getting shit for doing this to you." He assures.

In a moment of weakness, you break. The betrayal of the evening, the hurt and the fear, the anger, it's all too much. You sink to your knees, and nod. "Alright, let's do it. Just... be gentle, go slow." He nods. "Oh, my sweet. I'll do whatever you ask." He captures your lips, pressing your back against the front of his desk as he kneels beside you. His lips are soft, and taste of bourbon and mint. He smells like cologne, but a good kind, something smokey. Not like the tacky expensive stink of your husband, now ex-husbands favorite cologne. His tongue prods at your lips, and shyly you part them, allowing his tongue to slip in and suck against yours. He groans, and you both pull away breathlessly. While you take a breath, he immediately latches onto your neck, placing quick, feverish kisses along your collarbone. You gasp at the feeling, shrinking in on yourself. He grins.

"Does it really feel that good, that's quite a reaction." He chuckles. You blush and look to the side. "It's- It's been a while." He frowns and tilts his head. "How long is awhile, darling?" He whispers. "A few months, maybe eight or so." He shakes his head. "My poor girl, doing all that for him and he still wouldn't please you." He grips your waist, his lips on the shell of your ear. "To be fair though, even if he did, he couldn't make you finish. He would please himself, not you. But I won't, baby. Tonight, is all about you." You can feel a thick hardon pressing against your knee.

"Tell you what, darling. Let me make you feel good, real quick. Something nice and easy for my sensitive girl. Then, I'l take you out. I'm not just going to have sex with you without wineing and dineing you. Then, I'll take you back to my place, I-I'll send for your stuff tomorrow, and if you want, we can go for round two." He coos, looking up at you with admiration and hope. "Won't my husband try to resist my stuff being taken?" You ask. He shakes his head. "He's not your husband. If he calls, I'll hang up. He sold you out, and if he gets pissy, I've go the best lawyers in the country at my disposal. I'm not letting you spend one more night under a roof with that man. You aren't Mrs. Peters anymore, you're Mrs. Brant. Now... let Mr. Brant make you feel good." Hands cradle your thighs, slipping the skirt of your sensible slip dress up over your knees. A hand paws at your panties, cupping your cunt as he sighs. "So warm, poor little thing hasn't been touched in months. I've only kissed your neck a little, and your soaked. Is it because I said I love you? Does your little cunt respond well to just being admired and appreciated? Oh, my darling." He slips your panties aside just a little, not wanting to ruin your outfit for dinner later. Fingers part your lips as a long digit strokes up, from your entrance to your clit. A finger prods the entrance, and you gulp at the throbbing heat you feel.

"Gentle, slow please." You murmur. He nods, placing a gentle kiss on your neck before slipping in his digit. His long, calloused fingers rub your neglected walls in all the right ways. "A-ah, Morgan..." You pant. "Good?" He asks. You nod, breathless already. He thrusts it in and out gently, before asking to add another digit. When you nod, he adds another, while his free hand circles your clit with his middle finger. Perhaps its from typing everyday, day in and day out, but he is skilled. Even when your husband has slept with you, you had never felt like this. A coil forms in your stomach as you pant and whimper.

"M-morgan." You moan. "Please, I need to-" You're cut off by him sharply curling his fingers, as they hit a spongy spot deep inside you. "Oh, god. Yes." You moan again. "Cum for me, darling, please. I want to hear you." Morgan's tone is suddenly more desperate ethan you had heard it all night. He's needy, begging to know that he is pleasing you in the way he so desires. "Say my name, would you? I just want to please you, I need to know it feels good." He begs. "Morgan, I'm gonna cum, shit-" Your walls begin to pulse, juices coating his fingers. As you moan, finishing your high, he kisses you feverishly, desperate for closeness.

When you pull away, panting as you come down from your orgasm, he licks your juices off his hands with a squelching noise, putting your panties back into place. He helps you to your feet, and hands your your purse. "Ready for dinner?" He asks. Tired and very hungry, you nod. "Just one more thing, and you don't have to do anything, I've dealt with this myself plenty but-" He looks down, the tent in his pants is still very prominent.

"May I handle that before we go out?"

[moonstruckme]

hi love I like all ur fics!!! Ur most recent emt Maurader made me realize tho we don't always get to see Sirius being vulnerable so what about a fic where may be he's having an off day? Or runs into a cousin and they completely ignore him and he tries to act like it doesn't bother him and just reader comforting him and giving him space

Thank you for requesting angel!

cw: allusion to past abuse, discussion of toxic workplace dynamics

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius gets home from work early. You’re in the bedroom, stomach-down on the mattress with your book in front of you. You hear the front door open and come out to greet your boyfriend, but your smile falls when you see him. 

Sirius’ face is red. He doesn’t usually color when he’s upset, so you take it to mean something that he has now. He steps on the back of his shoe a couple of times before he manages to get it off, stomps on the back of the other even more harshly. You think he might be shaking. 

“Sirius?” 

He flinches. Turning around, his expression twinges with some mix of emotions at seeing you, too muddled to parse apart. He seals them all away quickly. 

You take a step towards him. “You okay?” 

“Yeah.” It comes out hoarse. Sirius clears his throat. “Yeah. Just a shit day at work.” 

“You’re home early,” you note. 

Sirius nods curtly. You think maybe that’s that, but his expression is conflicted. 

“Do you wanna sit down?” you ask gently, going to the couch and hoping he’ll follow. He does. It’s a challenge not to reach for his hand, to pull him closer or offer some kind touch, but the stiffness about Sirius’ frame hints that it may not be well received right now. 

When he’s still silent after a moment, you say, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I could make tea and we could just relax.” 

Sirius shakes his head. “It’s okay,” he says, tersely, like he might be trying to convince himself more than you. “I think I’m probably going to be fired, though.” 

You feel your eyebrows go up. 

“I…you know how I got a new boss a few weeks ago?” 

You nod mutely. 

“Right, well, she’s got a temper. At least a couple times a week I’ll hear her shouting at someone in her office and she’s already managed to fire from almost every team.” Your dread mounts as Sirius goes on, speaking faster now that he’s on a roll. “She called me in after lunch. I fucked up something in a report—I hadn’t checked it and it had gotten sent out with the error—and she was pissed. She screamed at me—really screamed, stood up and got red in the face and all that—for probably ten minutes before she sent me back to my desk. And I just came home.” Sirius lets out a dry chuckle. “If she doesn’t fire me, I might quit.” 

“You should, baby.” Your voice pitches with dismay, hurt and outrage for him warring inside you. You take a chance and reach for his hand. Sirius fits his fingers between yours instinctively, something seeming to loosen in him at the touch. “I can’t believe she really shouted at you. No one deserves that, least of all for a silly error in a report. She should be fired for that.” 

Sirius gives you a little smile, but it dissolves at the edges, watery. A cavity opens in your chest as his eyes grow shiny. 

“Baby.” 

He shakes his head, jaw clenched. Blinking. “Sorry,” he says roughly. “I never used to do this.” You feel your face pinch with sympathy. He means cry, you know. Sirius as an adult is more emotional than he was as a child, but you still rarely see him cry. “She just—she sounded just like my mother.” 

Realization comes like a blow to your middle. “Oh, my love,” you say breathlessly, moving to put your arms around him. 

Sirius usually hugs with his whole being. He throws himself into it, with force and purpose and his own rough brand of caring. So you’re used to letting him take the lead, but now, when his arms come around you hesitantly, you’re the one who applies the pressure. And Sirius melts against you. 

You cup the back of his neck in one hand and squeeze between his shoulders with the other, imagining your love pouring out of you and into him through your palms. Sirius is quiet, but you feel a couple of hot tears transfer from his chin to your shirt. You worry he’s holding his breath. 

“Sirius.” You say his name with all the tenderness you can summon, afraid of him hearing echoes of his mother’s voice. “I’m so sorry, lovely. You never, ever deserve to be shouted at that way.” 

“Even if I told you I left your favorite mug at my office?” he jokes weakly. 

You let him go. There aren’t many tears to brush off his cheeks, and you make short work of them, soothing your thumbs over his face just for the sake of it. Surprisingly, his complexion is less agitated than it had been when he’d come in. He was holding it in, you realize. 

“Don’t ever let me speak to you like that,” you say.

Sirius’ expression sobers. “You wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t.” 

“Really. Leave me if I talk to you like that, I’m serious.” 

“No, that’s me.” 

One side of your mouth tips up without your consent. “Bad joke.” 

Sirius mirrors you, grinning halfheartedly. “You think you’d have learned to evade it by now.” 

You gather that he wants things to be light now. That’s okay. You know Sirius has a difficult time with the truly heavy emotions—anger is an instinct for him, but tears and sorrow he’s never known what to do with. You’ll talk about it more over time, in bits and pieces where he’s comfortable. And just because you’re letting it go now doesn’t mean you’re done coddling him. 

You let your hands coast down from his face to either side of his neck, massaging gently the tension in his shoulders. “Did you really bring my favorite mug to work?” 

Sirius’ smile goes a tad sheepish. “Yes?” 

“Why would you do that?” 

“Because it makes me think of my most favorite sweetheart when I get coffee from the break room,” he says, smarmy. “Also, it was the first one I saw when I went to grab one from our cabinet.” 

You smile at him. Sirius pretends at facetiousness, but you know the first reason had been the genuine one. 

“What,” he asks, “you didn’t notice it was missing?” 

“No, I did. I only thought you’d broken it.” 

“And you weren’t going to say anything?” 

“What’d be the point?” 

A soft, intimate look comes over Sirius’ face. “I don’t deserve you,” he says, gray eyes raw and quiet, “do I?” 

You match his tone. “Of course you do, lovely. You deserve better than me, it’s just I’m what you’ve got.” 

“Mm, there’s another way you’re not allowed to speak.” He wraps his arms around you, pressing a heavy-fond kiss to your hairline. “I won’t have any of that talk.” 

“I’ll trade you that for the jokes about your name.” 

“No, I don’t think so. You’re going to have to work a little harder, doll, I’m not giving those up so easily.”

[cheekytv]

party animals - g. a. clarke x f!reader - having a brother in a frat sounds like fun in theory. just that yours is extremely protective and won't let any of his frat bros touch you. that doesn't stop neither you nor the hot new exchange student from england from spending the best night of your lives together, though.

pairing: george x f!reader genre: porn with plot, MDNI!! warnings: alcohol consumption, making out, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!), creampie, praise wc: 3.8k a/n: hi guys! so this is my little late contribution to the backwards cap gate george started in jason's stream last month. seeing him again with the backwards cap in the prague stream... well, here we are now. i hope you enjoy!

carrying kegs with your brother definitely had not been on your to-do list for today. how wonderful to have an older brother full of surprises. 

groaning, you walked up the steps, your hands locked underneath the keg filled with probably the cheapest beer available at walmart. 

“almost there!” your brother, steven, called and you rolled your eyes, your muscles straining. why had you said yes to this again? ah, right. because he said if you helped him there might be a chance he’d let you go to the party later. this was always a discussion with him: you, his baby sister joining him and his frat bros at their legendary parties. so far, you’ve only been to one of them and when one of steven’s brothers looked at you a little too long… well, let’s just say he wasn’t a brother for much longer. 

so, you had been banned from the house for the last three months, steven too protective of you, especially with all the freshmen joining. it had taken all of those months and many, many conversations with your brother to get him to calm down and realise you weren’t a seventeen year old high schooler anymore. 

his condition was for you to help out and if you, as he put it, “behaved enough”, you’d be welcome at the party. bullshit, if anyone asked you. not that anyone did. 

“you have like thirty muscle-packed dudes in there and you let your little sister carry the heavy shit, sure.” you mumbled, finally reaching the top of the stairs. steven just chuckled, signalling you with his head to follow him inside. what a dick - where else would you go, when you carried the same fucking keg? 

the frat house was cleaner than you anticipated and you clicked your tongue, impressed.

“did you pay someone to come over and clean?” you asked, still following steven’s lead. he shook his head, looking backwards as he walked into the roomy kitchen. 

“nah, we did this ourselves. but we did hire someone for afterward.”

“yikes, hope you pay them well.”

finally, steven and you put the keg down onto the floor. with a heavy breath, you wiped your forehead with your sleeve. looking around the kitchen, you saw a few of his bros outside the window by the pool, getting the outside party-ready as well. placing your hands on your hips, you look back at your brother.

“anything else you need help with, boss?” you grinned slightly and steven grinned brightly back.

“nope, thanks, sis. you can go get ready and be here at, let’s say, nine-ish?” he walked over to you, placing his hand on your shoulder. “and don’t forget. my bros are off-limits.”

you just rolled your eyes. 

“yeah, whatever. see you later!” you present him with a salute before turning around and jogging out the house, the open door letting in fresh warm air. the temperature was in the fucking 80s today, why on earth had you decided on a long-sleeved shirt? 

just when you put your foot on the first step down, your eyes caught something flying your way. your eyes widened, hands flying to protect your face - only for whatever object was rushing your way to be pushed away just in time before it could knock all your teeth out.

“fuck, are you alright, love?” 

was- was that a british accent in the midst of fuckass winona?! 

slowly, you lowered your hands, finding the eyes of your saviour looking at you with slight worry. 

fuck, his eyes are ridiculously blue, what the hell.

“oh, i, uh, yeah- yeah i’m good, thanks.” you blinked a few times, feeling your cheeks heat. your saviour didn’t just have beautiful blue eyes - he had a beautiful everything. soft-looking skin, a perfectly shaped nose, carefully trimmed beard and way too inviting lips. not to mention his mullet. you swallowed.

“glad to hear it.” he smiled and you and of course his smile was flawless as well. what a joke. you coughed once and looked away, not noticing the knowing smirk growing on his face.

“th-thanks for saving me, I, uh, gotta go now, but, uh- bye!” oh, what the fuck. 

quickly, you ran down the stairs, seeing the object the british adonis had saved you from laying right there. a soccer ball. you almost laughed at that. of course it was a soccer ball. 

without giving it any more thought, you rushed off the property, making your way to your car. now wasn’t the time to thirst over handsome british guys, no, it was time to pick out an outfit with your best friend and show up to the party looking as sexy as possible. 

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

ten minutes after nine, you stood on the frathouse doorstep with your best friend nora. the house was already well full, music was blasting through the speakers and making the floor vibrate. laughter and screams of joy were filling the house and you and nora linked hands before walking in. 

you had outdone yourself with your outfit, hair and make-up tonight. everything looked absolutely perfect. your dress was short and tight, and your boots and spirits both high. now you only needed your brother to be too distracted with whatever girl he wanted to get with tonight to notice just how slutty you had dressed yourself. 

“see him anywhere?” nora asked into your ear and you bit down on your dark red lip, shaking your head. nora was of course talking about the british hottie from earlier. as it turned out, he was actually a new member of the frat, a transfer from bristol in england, named george. he was the same age as your brother, making him two years older and, gods, was he delicious. 

walking further into the room, you felt a lot of eyes on you, fueling your confidence. grinning happily, you let your eyes roam through the room, trying to find george. and when you finally made it outside to the pool, you found him. he was leaning against one of the pillars holding up the balcony, talking to a fellow frat bro. and, holy fuck, he looked hot. washed out blue jeans, white tee and a baseball cap on backwards on his brown mop of hair. 

“there he is.” you said nodding in his direction and nora sucked in a breath.

“oh, yeah, you gotta get with him, babe.” she smirked, checking george out. you sighed.

“steven will literally kill me. and him, too.” 

“not if he never finds out.” nora winked at you, “let me distract him for you.” 

you grimaced.

“is this your way of telling me you want to fuck my brother?”

“perhaps.” she giggled and left you by yourself, mixed feelings inside of you. on one hand, your best friend and your brother sounded like a match made in hell, but on the other… you turned your head to look back at george - just in time to see him look at you. oh shit. your body instantly began to tingle, your stomach rocking some cartwheels. 

george let his eyes wander over your body, head to toes and back, his red cup pressed to his lips as he smirked. he made his way over right then, his eyes locked on yours. holding your breath, you watched him, every step making your stomach do even more gymnastic tricks. 

“i was hoping to see you here.” he said when he finally reached you, leaning slightly forward so he could say the words right into your ear. the music was still pounding and you appreciated it as much as it made you shake. 

“same.” you admitted shyly and george bit down on his lip. 

“i’m george, by the way. forgot all about my manners earlier.” he grinned and stretched out his hand which you took to shake, almost whimpering at how big his hands were. you introduced yourself too and he nodded.

“you’re steven’s sister, right?” he tilted his head. oh, wonderful. he already knows who i am. you suppressed a sigh.

“yep. that would be me.” you confirmed.

“i’ve heard we aren’t exactly allowed to look at you too long if we wanna stay in the frat.” 

you rolled your eyes. “yeah, i guess so.” was this his way of teasing you? was he maybe even making fun of you? caught you being flustered earlier and checking him out now and somehow found it really funny to-

“how lucky for me then, that different rules apply to exchange students.” your breath got stuck in your throat and your heart speed rose, the hot air around you suddenly feeling way hotter than before. 

“oh- that- yeah, that, that’s lucky.” you stuttered and george laughed slightly, his head lowering for a second before he looked back at you. 

“right, let’s get you a drink, shall we?”

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

one drink turned into two and sitting on a lounge chair next to each other turned into you sitting on his lap, his big hand resting on your thigh as he whispered sweet things into your ear in that incredibly sexy accent of his. 

“you know, when i saw you earlier… i already knew that i needed to see you again,” his breath was hot against your ear and you shuddered against him, your hands resting on his shoulders. 

“really?” you whispered back and george nodded, pushing your hair back behind your ear.

“yeah. you just looked so cute all flustered.” his smirk only grew, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. you groaned, shoving your head into the crook of his neck.

“george! i wasn’t flustered!” you whine and george laughs, his hands moving from your thighs to your back, holding you tight. 

“oh, you weren’t? my bad then.” he chuckled and you leaned back, your eyes catching his again. automatically, you held your breath and your gaze slowly shifted between his eyes and lips, the heat between the two of you ever growing.

“i can’t guarantee anything if you continue to look at me like that, darling.” he whispered then and you sucked in a breath. 

“you can do with me whatever you want, george.” you heard yourself reply then and now it was on george to groan. 

“fuck,” he just breathed out before finally closing the gap between you. his lips devoured yours and one of his hands found your face, cupping it posessively. you made quick work to switch positions on top of him, your legs now on either side of his thighs, straddling him. 

Making out with george was definitely one of the top ten moments of your life. the way he held you tight, his tongue swirling against yours hungrily, small moans escaping him whenever you dug your fingers into his nape. If it were up to you, you’d do this forever. 

“wanna go up to your room?” you boldly asked, causing george to moan against your lips.

“fuck, yeah, i do” george kissed you again, hands moving to your thighs again, squeezing them, “but we gotta be sneaky, darling.” 

being sneaky turned out to mean him getting up and going to the second floor by himself and for you to join in after a few minutes, finding him waiting for you in front of his bedroom. 

there was no holding the two of you back after that. the second his bedroom door was closed behind you, your back was pressed against it and george’s lips were back on yours. hands were roaming everywhere and for a few moments you weren’t sure where he began and you ended. 

his shirt was discarded only moments later, your fingers gliding over his strong back. he had his hands move underneath your dress, your breath hitching when you felt him brush against your sensitive skin. somehow, his touch was already intoxicating. 

“did you dress like this for me, darling? be honest.” his lips were right by your ear, slowly moving down your neck and you tipped your head back, letting out a soft moan.

“yeah, wanted to look good for you…”

“oh, and that you do, sweetheart.” 

george lifted you up, your legs automatically wrapping around his waist, hands back on his nape. he carried you over to the bed, dropping you onto it and climbing on top of you. the heat between you grew with every passing second, and when you felt his fingers between your legs slowly making their way up, you were sure your body was about to go up in flames.

when he finally made contact with your core, his thumb brushing against your clit, another soft moan left your mouth, making george chuckle lightly. 

“you like that, hm?” he dipped down, his lips back on your neck, kissing down and over your collarbone, free hand now shoving up your dress. you were nothing but putty in his hands. if it were up to you, he could do with you whatever he wanted - thankfully, george seems to have the same idea. 

his kisses trail down even further, hands now moving up to get your dress off you completely, leaving you in nothing but your lacy panties. george almost growls when he sees your bare tits, his mouth instantly attaching to your stiff nipples. crying out, your fingers flick his baseball cap off his head and dig into his scalp. his brown curls are soft underneath your fingertips and your body arches against him as his mouth devours your nipples. 

sleeping with strangers is not something you do often, but right now you are more than happy to have chosen this tonight. george knows exactly what he’s doing, pushes all the right buttons with you almost as if you had done this countless times before. he seems to be reading your mind, your body language telling him everything he needs to know. 

he notices the way your breath gets stuck in your throat when he touches that one spot on your hips, notices how your fingers dig deeper into his scalp when his teeth graces your nipple. he feels the way your body heats up with every kiss and every lap of his tongue. in a perfect world, he would have the whole night to make you his fully; he would trace every inch of your skin with his lips, mark you for everyone to see. 

but he knows there is only so much time you have with everyone partying downstairs, with your brother somewhere in the mass of people. so, he decides to go a step further sooner than he wishes he had to.

moving down your body he continues to kiss your soft skin, hands roaming over every curve. he could get addicted do you, he’s sure of it. a part of him wants to get addicted to you. the lower he moves, the more speed your heart picks up, your chest heaving. and then, finally, he hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties, getting them off you in no time. 

you are even more beautiful than he anticipated. he sucks in a breath, his eyes scanning your glistening folds. “you are so pretty and wet for me, love.” he mumbles, his finger now gliding through your lips, causing you to whimper. his eyes flick to yours, both of your gazes full of heat and need. 

he doesn’t need any more encouragement. he dips down his head, tongue immediately connecting with your folds. he begins to devour you like he had never tasted anything as delicious before and perhaps that’s not even far from the truth. 

your hips move against his face, one hand gripping his curls, the other the bedsheets. his tongue feels like paradise must - feels like all your worries and fears have suddenly disappeared. he wants to make you feel the best you ever had and you’re sure he’s going to succeed. 

your taste is sweet and bitter and intoxicating. george flicks his tongue against your clit, his fingers slowly moving towards your pussy, ready to sink inside you. and when he does, when two of his perfect fingers find their way inside you, you already know it won't take him long to get you to cum all over his hand.

george’s eyes slightly roll back, your walls so tight and warm around his fingers. he begins slowly, taking his sweet time to open you up. he curls his fingers, hitting you right where you need him to. soft moans escape you and your eyes flutter shut, head tipped back and hips moving to meet his fingers.

“aren’t you doing well for me, darling? look so pretty, too.” his movements become quicker, lips now closing around your clit and sucking, your body beginning to shake with pleasure. 

“g-george, am close!” you cry out and it sounds like music to his ears. his fingers fuck into you harder, his tongue circling your clit sensually but with enough pressure to send you over the edge. 

the first orgasm hits you hard and seemingly out of nowhere. you cry out his name over and over, your legs closing around his neck now, riding out your orgasm against his face. george thinks he would love to be suffocated between your thighs, his face buried in your dripping pussy. 

his strong hands move your legs apart again, sitting up in the process. your eyes fly open again, breath still unsteady as you watch him above you. god, he looks incredibly like this. just the moonlight shining through the window, his hair a mess just like his face. his skin is glistening with your essence and his eyes are full of need. need for you. for this.

he dives forward and his lips are back on yours, his hands working to get his jeans and briefs off, shoving them down his legs and freeing his aching erection. your arms wrap around his neck, nails dragging along his back. he is so broad, so big, it almost makes you moan in frustration. 

“i got you, baby.” he whispers against your mouth and you swallow, your lips searching for his again. you doubt you’ll ever get enough of kissing him - which could be a problem for when this moment is over. you decide to shove that thought far back into your subconscious. 

he moves slightly, reaching for something on the side of the bed, and you quickly move your hand to stop him.

“wait,” you say breathlessly, his eyes finding yours, “i want you to fuck me raw, george, please. i’m on birth control… and as long as you haven’t fucked around…-,” he interrupts you with a heated kiss. 

“fuck, i was hoping you’d say that not gonna lie.” he grins against your lips, “i’m clean, baby, and i would love to fuck you raw.”

you feel his head press against your entrance and your breath gets stuck in your throat. 

“you ready, love?” his voice makes shivers run over your back and you nod, fingers back in his curls and your lips pulling him into another heated kiss. george groans as he sinks into you, his tongue lapping against yours inside your mouth.

with every inch, your body grows more and more accustomed to him, your legs now wrapped around his waist fully. he feels insane inside of you, feels like he has met his perfect match. and when he does his first thrust, both of you breathe out at the same time, eyes staring at one another. 

he can’t help himself. his thrusts become fast and hard from the get go, his head burrowed in the crook of your neck. there is no stopping the moans, the cries you let out. you don’t care if anyone hears, hells, you don’t care if anyone catches you. george fucks you like he owns you and, fuck, do you wish he truly did. 

“you feel so fucking good, take me so fucking well.” george is groaning into your ear and it feels almost godly. 

your hips try to meet his, your nails now back to dragging along his back, leaving marks on it you feel extremely proud of. you let him fuck you like he wants, like he knows you want it, like you know you need it. it’s like a game neither of you can lose. a game that both of you will win and share the price.

george feels himself closing into his own release, but he wants to make sure you climax at least one more time before he does. he brings his thumb down, between your bodies and presses down on your swollen clit, rubbing it in circles that have you see stars.

“fuck, george!” your back arches once more, head falling back against his pillow and george takes the opportunity to suck on your neck, leaving a beautiful hickey right there for everyone to see. 

“cum for me, love, give me another one, hm? i know you want to.”

he’s right, you want to. you want to and you do. his cock fucks into you once, twice and finally the knot within you snaps open again, orgasm number two erupting within your body. waves of pleasure milk his cock inside you, make him go even more feral than he already was. 

finally, he explodes within you, hot and white cum spreading in your willing pussy, making you clench around him over and over. god, how could someone feel so good inside you?

“fucking hell.” george collapses on top of you, his body weight feeling more welcome than bothersome. you hug him close, enjoying the feeling of him softening inside you, of his chest heaving against yours.

you suddenly hear the music again, feel the bass, realise you are not in a bubble somewhere with the hot exchange student from england but still in your brother’s frat house. which brings you to the very obvious problem waiting for you downstairs. 

“we should head back in a bit.” you whisper, fingers softly caressing his head. you don’t know why but it doesn’t feel strange to act like this, the sexual tension gone (for now) and instead leaving place for something entirely different.

george lifts his head, his pretty blue eyes looking into yours. a small smile plays on his lips.

“wish we didn’t have to, not gonna lie.” he admits and you chuckle, leaning forward and pressing a kiss onto his cheek.

“me too, believe me. but steven will notice, even if nora manages to distract him. he never leaves to hook up during a party.”

pouting, george finally gives in, rolling off of you. he hands you your clothes and you hand him his and the two of you are nothing short but giggly as you get dressed. 

and when you get back down, you are just as mortified as you are relieved when you spot nora and your brother making out in the kitchen, oblivious to where you had been for the past who-even-knows-how-long. all you know is, george doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the evening and you are pretty sure he won’t leave until the plane takes off back to london. 

[hayatoseyepatch]

𝕯𝖊𝖘𝖈𝖗𝖎𝖕𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: It started off simple enough, a little wager that you'd be able to tell the twins apart no matter the situation. You were blindly confident in your abilities, however, you never imagined you'd have to be able to tell which brother was pleasuring which part of your body. 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗: Luke & Kieran (Love & Deepspace) 𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.7k 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖘: Luke x Fem!Reader x Kieran. SMUT. 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Sensory Deprivation, Teasing, Oral (Female Receiving), Threesome, Nipple Play, Marking, Free Use, Luke & Kieran being Luke & Kieran.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: When I tell you this idea has been living in my head for literal MONTHS. I've been so excited for this one. I love the twins so much and I feel like they deserve so much more love. I'll take Sylus, Luke, & Kieran please and thank you. Anyways I hope you enjoy, and I'll see you in the next one! ૮꒰ྀི∩´ᵕ`∩꒱ྀིა See my full kinktober master list here.

“Oh? So you think no matter the situation..” Kieran starts, amusement clear in his voice. “You’d be able to tell us apart?” His brother was quick to finish. You had been insistent that despite them being twins and constantly with their faces concealed behind the anonymity of their masks, that you could tell the brother’s apart. You nod confidently, crossing your arms across your chest, cocking your hip to the side. “Absolutely I could. You both sound completely different and have entirely different personalities.” You shrug, the brothers exchanging a glance at one another before Kieran lets out a laugh. Puffing out your cheeks in indignance you poke his chest.

“So confident in fact I’m willing to make a little wager. If I win you both have to take off your masks and let me see your faces.” The two brothers look at each other, taking a moment to have a silent conversation between them both. Kieran being the prouder of the two steps forward offering you a hand. “You got a deal, dove, we’ll discuss what we want from this little bargain after we win.”

You were caught in your tense bout with him, unaware that his brother had snuck behind you, if it wasn’t for his mask you were sure you’d feel his breath against your ear as he spoke. “We have to go on a little mission for boss, we’ll see you when we get back for our little bet, pretty.”

Luke’s hand trails from your shoulder to your hand, pressing it to the cold material of his mask in a pseudo kiss of your hand. Their behavior sat in your mind long after their departure. Sure the two had been flirty with you before, even suggestive in the way they spoke. But this was more forward than they had been. Day faded into night and you figured the two wouldn’t be returning to Sylus’ manor that evening. Deciding to just get ready for bed. Slipping off your bra and your silk nightgown over your head before getting ready to settle into bed. Before you could, however, the door to your room is opened. The two brothers leaning on either side of your doorway. “Hope we aren’t too late, little bird.” Kieran coos, the both of them entering your room and shutting the door.

So caught by him you don’t hear the distinct ‘click’ of Luke locking the door behind him. Kieran approached your bed, crawling onto the mattress, his knees settling on either side of your hips, masked face hovering above your own. “You ready for our little wager, dove?” He purrs, reaching into his back pocket to procure the silk blindfold that sat within its confines, dangling the fabric in front of your face. “Can't have you cheating now can we?” You can hear the grin in his voice, causing confusion to paint your features.

Luke, finally speaks up, standing at the foot of your bed. “Have some manners, tell her what we talked about before whipping out a blindfold, dumbass.” He walks along the side of the bed before sitting next to where you both were, the mattress dipping beneath his weight, he takes a hand, tilting your chin to make you look in his direction. Luke had been the gentler of the two, still just as mischievous as his brother, but there had always been an air of tenderness with the younger twin. “We’ve decided that the best way for you to be able to tell us apart is by taking way some of your senses, doll.” He grins beneath his mask, slipping the fabric from his brothers fingers as he secures it around your eyes, cutting off your sight completely.

“So what’s gonna happen here dove is we’re gonna take turns pleasuring that cute little body of yours.” He coos, you hear a bit of rustling, only for Luke’s voice to come out clearer than you’ve ever heard it. What you think may be his hand, trails up your bare thigh until it reaches the hem of your nightgown. A set of lips beginning to kiss a trail up from your shoulder on your other side. You gasp as the flat of the other twin’s tongue glides up your neck until his lips were pressed against the shell of your ear. “And just when you're about to cum we’re gonna ask you who it is pleasuring that cute little cunt.” His breath is hot in your ear, and the hand that was on your thigh slides up farther, emphasizing the words spoken by pressing on your clit through the fabric of your already damp panties. “If your right, you get to cum and take off that blindfold and see our faces.”

You shudder, hips rolling and a moan slipping from your lips as the fingers now rub tight circles on your covered clit. “And if I’m wrong?” You mentally curse yourself for stuttering, breaths coming in heavy at the attention given to your cunt. A deep chuckle is breathed into your ear before Kieran answers. “Then you keep the blindfold on and we do whatever the fuck we want to you until you guess right or pass out. How does that sound, our pretty little dove?”

His words go straight to your cunt, all you could muster was a nod of your head. The brothers were quick to action with your consent, the fingers pulling from your cunt to slip your panties down your thighs. Both of them remove themselves from the bed, you can hear movement, the two maneuvering themselves to make it a bit more difficult for you to sense where they had gone. After a moment, one brother settles himself behind you, your back now pressed to his chest as he manhandles you into a seated position. Large hands side under the backs of your knees, forcing your thighs apart, exposing your drenched cunt to the twin that slid himself between your legs. Once he was settled, the hands move from your legs to the straps of your nightgown, sliding them over your shoulders, exposing your tits to the cold air of the room.

Kieran struggles to keep quiet, not commenting on the way your nipples pebble, and how gorgeous your tits were. He silences himself by pressing open-mouthed kisses up your neck, not wanting to end the game so soon. His kisses were a mess of tongue and teeth, trailing upward until his lips finally met your own. Unsatisfied with your lips not parting to welcome his tongue, his thumbs flick your sensitive nipples. Using the gasp you let out to his advantage as he slides his tongue past your lips. His fingers make busy work at teasing your buds, rolling them between his thumb and index finger. All while his brother uses his thumbs to part your folds, tongue lolling out of his mouth to lick a fat stripe up your dripping pussy. Groaning deep in his throat at finally being able to taste you after months of yearning to be in this exact position. Your moans are swallowed by the older twin, his tongue never ceasing its assault on your own.

Luke, attempting to mimic actions you would expect from his brother, pulls away from your core, landing a harsh slap against your cunt. He followed with two more in quick succession, grinning at the cries that fall from your lips before diving back into your cunt. Luke returns to returning lapping your center, his tongue alternating between licking fat stripes against your clit to pointed circles tracing shapes against the bundle of nerves. This next action would be the determination of how clouded your mind was. His long fingers, much more slender than his brother's trace your opening. he plunges two digits in your walls, massaging the spongey spot in your depths, the one that made your vision go white, before avoiding it completely, teasing you to the point of tears at the loss of contact as he continues his assault with his tongue. He suddenly pulls away from your sex, sliding his fingers out of you. Before you can fully let the whine at the loss of contact escape, he buries his face back into your folds.

His nose bumps your clit as his tongue invades your entrance, curling inside you. He collects your juices on the wet muscle, withdrawing from inside you he pushes himself up. Tongue lolling out of his mouth, allowing your juices, mixed with his own saliva, to drip down on your neglected clit. He grins at your reaction to his teasing, your hips were already bucking, thighs trembling the brothers could tell you were getting close. Kieran, who never let up his assault on your sensitive nipples, tugs them harshly, relishing in the way you cry out for him. Once they were sure you were drunk enough on the feeling of their combined assault they both spoke at the same time, hoping your mind was hazy enough to not be able to pinpoint their voices. “So, dove, who was eating your cunt?”

Your mind was swimming, so lost in the pleasure of your near release. Their words meet your ears, muffled against the whine that bubbles up in your throat at the loss of contact. While trembling in their arms you whimper out your answer. “Kieran” The name coming out in a pathetic whimper, as you your following words. “Kieran was eating my cunt.” The owner of the name groans at the fucked out way it falls from your lips, and your heart sinks to your stomach as you realize it was right by your ear. He grins against the shell of it his breaths fanning against your skin as he speaks. “uh oh baby, that’s the wrong answer” He purrs, Luke chiming in from between your thighs, you didn’t know when he had risen to his knees, nor when he freed his cock from the confines of his pants. All you knew was that his mushroom tip was now probing your entrance, hand on your hip in anticipation of sinking you down not him. “Guess it's time for us to claim our prize dove.” His words promised this night was long from over, and that by the end of it you’ll never get them confused again.

𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖇𝖞 @/𝖈𝖆𝖋𝖊𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖘𝖚𝖓𝖊 & @/𝖘𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖉𝖎𝖐𝖆-𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖍𝖎𝖈𝖘.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @littleplantfreak @maruflix @stunies @eevees-hobbies @umemiaa @143-ilyuu @uzxotic @serendipitous-fernweh @princesstiti14 (𝖕𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖋𝖗𝖊𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙/𝖉𝖒/𝖆𝖘𝖐 𝖎𝖋 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖇𝖊 𝖆𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖙𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖔𝖋 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗 𝖋𝖎𝖈𝖘) (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

[toriaaniin]

The Jive

The following is a recreation of a conversation I had the other night with a friend from one of my group chats. Yes, even when I believe in Luke and Nicola as strongly as I do, I suffer from little brain niggles that feed doubt. I'm so very grateful for my chat groups because even though my friends and I regularly review all the info we know, talking it out loud can make all the difference.

Jive with me!

"Let's talk about it again." "Again? We talked about Luke and Antonia as a couple last night." "Yes please. How are you feeling? After last night's talk with the group, we all left feeling good. But how are you feeling now?" "Feeling doubts. Brain niggles." "Yes. Yes; those damned brain niggles. So let's talk about it again. Make it make sense." "You know we never can make it make sense. The pieces don't jive." "You're right; let's try again anyway. Where do we start?"

We start in the present and move back in time. We start back on NYE 2024 and move forward in time. We start in the middle somewhere because why not? With every starting place - forward, backward or round-about in time - we encounter a glitch, or confusion, or a hurdle, or a "no fuckin' way!" or... well, no matter where we start, the pieces just don't jive.

"Let's start in the present day." "Okay. Cool."

We pause and then step gingerly (because yuck, groan and LOL) into a discussion of recent Luke & Antonia sightings like the People Pap photos (clearly arranged) and the Yungblud concert (weird - with, as usual, no IG acknowledgement of a possible evening spent together by either of them. Luke shared a photo of he and his long-time friend Dom/Yungblood. Obviously Dom was Luke's priority for the evening).

"It's all so baffling and confusing! After watching Luke, most especially, and Nicola at the SAGs..."

We find ourselves happily reminiscing about that evening, and the days afterward. We laugh at Nicola's scramble on the following Monday to redirect the narrative to "my buddy", Jake's seemingly emphatic use of the period as punctuation (how I laughed when the Jakola's decided that was a love message!), and then the unexpected (but I feel strategic) follow of Antonia's IG.

"Hey! We've gotten off track. We're supposed to be finding a way to make Luke and Antonia work as a couple." "I know... but we can't compare apples (the best fruit ever) to dog shit. Luke & Antonia have no energy. No light. "Yep. The pieces just don't jive."

We have no choice but to admit that SAGs throws a wrench into the Luke & Antonia narrative, especially given the images published of the two of them together. Dog shit indeed.

"Let's try again." "We've been trying this since the BOSS event on January 30th and you know where we end up. Every time." "Yes, I know. The biggest stumbling block of all. The one golden nugget that kills any and all Lutonia jives."

Yes. I said golden nugget, as in the ultimate breadcrumb. A breadcrumb that can't be eaten by birds like in the Hansel & Gretel fairytale. Something that - when not ignored or obtusely explained away - is tangible.

At some point in the last days of January through to the first days of February, Nicola had a baby. I've read a lot of blogs that laugh at us for suggesting this reality. For me and for many with eyeballs in our head, photos like these tell the story. Plainly.

"There's no doubt that Nicola had a baby. You know that I believe Luke to be the baby's father... but is there a chance he isn't?" "Based on when we believe the baby was born, he was conceived back in late April or early May 2024 during the world tour. Sure, Nicola could have been seeing someone else at the time, but I wonder how he would have felt watching the chemistry between Luke and Nicola? Like that time when she was practically sitting on his lap during the long-sofa livestream (approx April 10)?" "Yes! And during the Australia leg of the WT? Luke couldn't keep his eyes away from Nicola's cleavage in that black dress! "Luke?! How about when he saunters out in that monochromatic beige coat, tank and pants, whips his coat open? Nicola was definitely NOT staring at his eyes then!" 🥵🥵

Bottom line is, if we don't consider Luke, there's no evidence of a significant person - a lover - in Nicola's life back during the time of baby's conception, during the whole world tour OR since. No, I don't count her friend Jake in this role. If I'm pushed on this possibility, and I willingly ignore Jake's preferences: Nicola's friendship with Jake isn't actively reflected in the media until late August... well after the August "Chaos Week" activities and the repeated Luke-coded content shared by Nicola on IG.

Luke being the baby's father jives.

"Let's not forget the polaroid photo of her and Luke in Nicola's phone case. We first saw that in Australia." "That's right. I remember her flashing it during the Taylor Swift concert back on June 21st. And of course she's had a possible Luke photo in her case ever since." "I wonder how a significant non-Luke lover would feel about Nicola carrying around a photo of her co-lead in her phone case, right where she can see it multiple times a day, for this past year?" "She even shared the polaroid phone case photo in her 2024 IG photo dump - mirror selfie in Skims, looking sexy, with her phone case clearly visible. Talk about a Luke breadcrumb!

Luke being the baby's father jives.

So what's with Antonia? Did Luke and Nicola break up before the baby was born? After all, Luke took Antonia to the BOSS event on January 30th... right around the time that Nicola's baby... their baby... was born.

"All I can think of is yuck! That's not the Luke that Nicola has described to us." "I agree. The Luke in People's 'Sexiest Man Alive' This/That video showed a lovely excitement when he described 'fairytale ending': 'Happily married; end of season 3 vibes'. Complete with a love-goofy gaze over at someone (Nicola, of course!)." "Don't forget the Claddagh ring. It hasn't left her left hand since October 1st, and of course the left hand with the heart facing inward signifies marriage." "Well... except for that one time in Paris (Jan 26-28) when she moved it to her right ring finger. I think that's because in those last days of pregnancy, her hands were swollen so she shifted it to a less swollen finger." "Heck! During the SAG interview on January 25th when she declared that she and Luke were 'just friends', she was flashing that ring (on her left hand) around!" "We saw it back on her left hand after Paris. Nicola is married with a child and all clues make Luke the father. All tangible indications (ring [ring truther!], polaroid, SAGs energy, This/That video, audiobook Misdirected [possibly released on Baby Newt's due date, Feb 4th], and other clues) are that Luke and Nicola are together to this day." "But what about Antonia?"

What about Antonia. How about I ask you this. When Nicola and Luke were having their baby, what were we in the fandom talking about? The BOSS event and Antonia. Misdirection. Pure and simple.

We have no idea of all the particulars and the whys. "Why her?!" laments get us nowhere. When we look closely at the "relationship" between Luke and Antonia though, we see nothing that jives. It doesn't fit. To my way of thinking (like many here on Tumblr), this is a contractual agreement only. Don't ask me or anyone why. All we can do is speculate. I've done some research and I've looked at it critically... and while I believe I have some understanding of possible whys, it's still bloody confusing!

My recommendation? Accept the fact that we don't know the whys, and we never will. Accept the fact that a contract exists because groaning about it will only take us to a place of frustration. Simply recognize that there is nothing in a Luke and Antonia "relationship" that jives. Then laugh when you see them in papped photos!

To my way of thinking, Nicola and Luke's baby means their relationship is real. It's always been them. Now it's their little family. This reality is what keeps me here!

We all know what we saw. Luke and Nicola jive. They define jive.

Aaniin Xxx

[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (11)

Summary: You’re losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: grumpy Bucky, idiots in love, fluff, mentions of smut, banter

How to cure a grump (10)

How to cure a grump masterlist

Bucky watches you pace back and forth in your bedroom. At least, you didn’t try to castrate him as so often threatened.

“Doll,” he tries, but you raise your hand to stop him from saying something stupid. “Y/N…let me explain.”

You stop in your tracks, glare at Bucky, and huff. “Steve already explained a fucking lot when he called. Especially the little detail of how you fired me because you had feelings for me.”

“Feelings,” he scoffs but looks at you, his brows furrowed. His like earns him a slap to his chest. Bucky hisses as you hit his sensitive nipple.

“What? Can’t you take a little slap?”

He drops his gaze, embarrassed that your mother twisted his nipple. “It hurt.”

Looking Bucky up and down you frown deeply. “Lift your shirt,” you say, pointing at his chest. “Now!”

“Fine,” Bucky grunts. He lifts his shirt, revealing his hurt nipple to your eyes. You glance at his nipple, snorting.

“Why is your nipple black and blue?” You accuse, stepping closer. You lean forward, to get a better look at his nipple. “Did you find the time to get naughty while looking for me?”

“Your mother is dangerous! She twisted my nipple,” Bucky whines and covers his nipple with his hand when you try to touch it. “Don’t touch it! It’s sensitive!”

You snort. “Last night you didn’t care that my nipples were sensitive. You sucked and bit and tugged until I pushed you away.”

He nods knowingly. “Yeah, so good.” Bucky rasps, remembering the last night vividly. “You loved it, didn’t you.”

“That was until you told your buddy you regret last night!” You slap his upper arm. “How dare you talk about what happened with Steve!”

“I told you; it was a misunderstanding. I feared it was the wrong moment to tell you about my feelings. You know, they always tell you not to say I love you during sex.”

Groaning you punch his upper arm. “I don’t care if you call me slut after an orgasm or tell me that you love me. What pisses me off is that you talk about all of this with your friend instead of me!”

“We just—” He smirks, eyes dropping to your crotch, “fucked, and I didn’t know if you want to stab me or do it again. It was a little sudden, and we fought before we did and…”

You raise your hand again. “Can you stop talking? You’re making things worse. If you don’t stop talking nonsense, I’ll twist your other nipple too.”

He steps back, keeping an eye on you. “No nipple twisting for you.”

“Munchkin, did you already make up? Are you naked or can I come in?” Your mother calls from outside your bedroom. “The kittens are all well. The mother is well too. A little hungry but she’ll make it.”

“Fuck, what do we do with five kittens and the mom?” You sigh deeply.

“We can’t chase them away,” Bucky says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll keep Alpine, and maybe another one?”

“Which one?” Your mother asks. “We’ve got two orange beauties, two white kittens, and one that’s a mix of orange, white, and black. I guess her mother had more than one tomcat chasing after her.”

“MOM!” You groan.

“I’ll be downstairs to discuss the kittens. Take your time making up.” She coos. “Young love.”

“Uh-did you know that your mother knows?” Bucky whispers to not catch your mother’s attention. One twisted nipple is enough.

“What are you talking about?” You ask.

“She knows that we aren’t a pair…or weren’t a pair. I mean…the whole fake-dating thing. She saw right through us,” he tries to explain.

“She knew,” you chuckle. “Of course, she knew. Mom always knows.” You nod to yourself. “I need to apologize to her for the charade and that she knows we had sex last night.”

“More than once,” Bucky adds, earning an angry look from you. “What? We did it more than once. That’s an important fact.”

“Do you want a medal?” You challenge, putting your hands on your hips. “Or do you want me to grade your performance?”

He blinks a few times, thinking about your offer. “I’ll get an A, right?” Bucky grins when you roll your eyes. He grabs your hand, squeezing it. “Do you want to adopt a kitten with me and have sex again?”

You snort. “Let’s see if my mom will let you take one. She loves cats…”

Bucky is watching the kittens play. “Alpine is mine,” he says again and points at the white kitten. “Her brother too. I’ll call him Blizzard.”

Sitting on the couch next to Bucky you wonder if he could be a good boyfriend. He’s charming and handsome. And to be honest, good in bed. But is that enough to build a relationship on?

While you bicker with Bucky over the name of the little male kitten, your mother watches you with amusement. She didn’t miss that you left two more hickeys on Bucky’s neck before coming downstairs.

“We won’t call him Blizzard; that’s a stupid name!” You huff. “I want to call him Fluffy or Mister Mittens.”

“He survived the snow and cold. We found the poor guy in a dumpster, half-frozen. His name is Blizzard because he’s a fighter.” Bucky won’t give in. “He’s a survivor.”

“Munchkin, he’s not wrong. How about this? Can you name the other kittens? I’ll ensure they’ll get a good home, and keep the mom and the orange kitten you found last.”

“Doll, did you hear?” Bucky says and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Your mom will let you name the other kittens. We can take Alpine and Blizzard home soon…”

Tags in reblog.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Arrest Me, But It's Not So Sexy

Part 2 of Arrest Me, But Make it Sexy (🏷 @newobsessionweekly)

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: While you're undercover, Metro raids the drug manufacturing facility you're in. Tim tries to arrest you again, but you have a job to finish.

Warnings: discussion/depiction of drug trafficking, typical show warnings, fluff and banter

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

Put me in the back of your car and we'll start a verbal flirtation. I'm doing tax fraud and arson, now take me down to your station.

“Defying orders is the best thing I’ve ever done,” you muse as your captain reviews your current case.

“You’re just lucky Bradford didn’t actually report that,” she points out. “The body cam footage and arrest got to do all the talking.”

“And you saw it and just knew you had to have me, right?”

She nods sarcastically, then pushes an envelope toward you. “This is your cover. Nysse Bret.”

“And I fit some kind of description?”

“There’s word going around about a new dealer, better product, better prices… easy on the eyes. It’s got the target dealers and producers shaken up, just how we like them.”

You nod as you look through the envelope. It’s your first time going undercover alone, but you know you can do it.

“So, you want me to shake them up a little more, overstep on their turf, down sell their product, get them out in the open?” you clarify.

“Preferably. And given your track record of disobeying orders to do the right thing, going in solo seems like the logical next step for you.”

“The product you’re giving me?” you ask.

“It’s real,” she answers. “Diluted and nearly unusable, but legitimate. If it’s tested, it’ll come back as weak but real.”

“Got it. Don’t use it. And if I need backup?”

“Never more than five minutes out. We’ll try to grab buyers as we go, but that’s not the priority.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for the opportunity.”

“Oh, and keep up this sassy, unbreakable thing. That’s what these guys will expect from Nysse Bret. That and not taking any crap.”

“You’re saying I can flash my gun if they think sassiness is an invitation.”

“Was that a question?”

You smile and slide your sunglasses onto your nose as you answer, “Nope.”

“Sergeant Bradford has new intel on Savva Pavlov, one of Los Angeles’s biggest drug manufacturers. Heroine, coke, if someone can do it, Pavlov can make it. We take him out, we take the majority of the drugs out of LA,” Captain Pine reports.

“Until the next guy moves in,” someone points out.

“Then we find him too,” Tim answers. “Pavlov is big, so we gain time, at least, if we take him out.”

“Take it, Bradford,” Pine encourages.

“Yes, ma’am. We have good intel, so we’re moving in on this location.” He pauses and points to a location on the screen. “There will be people inside, drugs inside. We go in protected, get everyone we can, and make sure that Pavlov doesn’t slip through the cracks. We’ll have teams of three stationed on every side of the building and we’ll enter from the north and south sides.”

“How can you know if Pavlov is there?” an officer asks.

“We don’t. If we get lucky, we arrest him. If not, we break one of his guys to find out where he is. This drug war needs to end, so we can’t wait around for Pavlov to get back from a smoke break.”

“Any questions?” Pine asks. “Preferably ones that aren’t stupid?”

“No, ma’am,” the team answers together.

“Then get ready, we roll in twenty.”

“So, you’re Nysse,” a man drawls, looking you up and down but never glancing above your neck.

“Depends,” you answer. “Would you make the woman taking your bosses’ customers wait?”

“They’re not his customers, they’re ours!”

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologize through chuckles. “I wasn’t aware this was a Starscream undermining Megatron situation.”

“What?”

You level your gaze, drop your smile, and remove your sunglasses to look down at the shorter man. “I said, you’re trying to act bigger and bolder than you are.”

“I’ll show you bigger and bolder,” he growls.

You lift the left side of your shirt to show the Colt 45 against your hip. “I’d like to see you try.”

The man licks his lips as he steps back. “Mr. Pavlov will be here soon. He’s finishing a meeting.”

“Perfect,” you exclaim cheerfully, dropping your shirt and sliding your sunglasses onto your head. “Hey, what’s it like working for him? Get good vacation time?”

“Perhaps you’d like to see his process while you wait,” he suggests, leading you through a swinging door.

“Oh, I’d love to.”

“This is where the magic happens,” he says, opening his arms toward the warehouse of men and women working in gas masks and hazmat suits.

“What’s back there?” you ask, pointing to a blocked-off area at the back.

“Pavlov’s office. He’ll take you back there when he arrives.” He smiles and adds, “Women like you always leave happy.”

You roll your eyes at his comment. Before you can reply sarcastically, a flashbang is thrown through one of the few ventilation windows. You see it in time to drop your head and cover your ears, but you’re still disoriented for a moment.

“LAPD Metro!” someone yells. “Drop to your knees, hands on your head! Now!”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” you exclaim.

“Follow me,” the man beside you urges, blinking wildly to regain his vision. “There’s a-“

“Cop behind you,” you point out, tilting your head to the side. “He’s pretty cute, actually.”

“LAPD, on the ground. Now,” Tim says slowly. “That means you, sir.”

The man is still facing you, his back to Tim. You can tell he plans to run, so you lean against the rail beside you and cross your arms.

“What’s in it for me?” you ask.

“What?” Tim asks, holding his gun against his shoulder.

“If I get on the ground and ruin my outfit, what’s in it for me?”

Tim begins to say your name, but you shake your head once.

“Nysse Bart,” you introduce. “Maybe you’ve heard of me. But your little war on drugs is a war against me. So, make it worth my time and maybe I tell you what I know.”

“What about me?” the man before you asks.

“Sure, fine. Help us out, and we help you out, handsome,” you tell Tim. “Or we could just leave, find a more romantic spot.”

“You’re under arrest,” Tim says, dropping his gun to handcuff your tour guide.

“Cuffed while Pavlov enjoys the beauties of the port,” he mumbles.

So that’s where he is, you think. Picking up a shipment – or ladies – at the port.

“Bradford is it?” you ask as Tim moves toward you. “I really like how this shirt fits, so could you cuff me with my hands in front? As a sign of good faith, I’ll apologize for hitting on you.”

Tim shakes his head and pulls your hands behind your back. He places the cuffs in your hands rather than around your wrists. You huff and pout at him, then notice your phone, Nysse’s phone, is buzzing.

Another Metro officer takes Pavlov’s right-hand man, leaving you with Tim. You have to get to Pavlov, and after Metro raided the facility while you were inside, you have to go forward on your own.

“Sorry,” you say as you close one of the cuffs around Tim’s wrist.

He pulls his arm back when he feels your hand on him, but you snap the other side closed around the safety rail behind him.

“Take it off,” Tim demands.

“Sorry, sir,” you taunt as you walk backward, placing your sunglasses back on your nose. “That wasn’t quite sexy enough.”

“Get back here!”

“Oh, he looks like he wants to chase me,” you say, fanning yourself dramatically. “Navy blue booty, go ahead and lock me up.”

You wiggle your fingers to wave before you turn and walk through a side exit to catch Pavlov before he leaves the port with imported drugs. When you call your captain for backup, you tell her that Metro raided the facility, not knowing you were there. She grumbles something under her breath and promises to look into it and keep it from happening again. You remember the shock on Tim’s face when you cuffed him and realize it wasn’t so bad.

“And here I was, thinking that you’d be in the back of someone’s car admitting to tax fraud and arson,” you tease as you enter the roll call room.

“You caught Savva Pavlov,” Tim says. “Nice work.”

“If you want me to apologize for handcuffing you in a drug warehouse, I know this really nice place where we could have dinner, and I could kiss you to prove I mean it.”

Tim huffs a laugh, his smile appearing for several seconds. Your smile grows at the knowledge that Tim enjoys your back and forth as much as you do.

“I’m sorry,” Tim says. “We should have done our due diligence before we went in. I risked your safety during the raid, and there’s no excuse for that.”

You shrug and assure, “It worked out. Plus, you looked so good that it was a great break from the greasy little guy I’d been stuck with.”

“Yeah, he seemed to think I interrupted something.”

“A UC operation.”

Tim nods and asks, “Are you staying with the UCs?”

“I like it. Maybe not full time, but, yes, it’s something I can see myself doing again.”

“You’re a great cop, just… be careful.”

You lay your hand on Tim’s arm and promise, “I will. Knowing you’re in Metro and will come when I call helps.”

“You don’t need anyone telling you how to do your job, I know that, but I just want to make sure you’re safe. Especially after what happened today.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, gently squeezing Tim’s arm. As you step back, you ask, “Why didn’t you actually cuff me?”

“Nysse Bart? You said the name and I realized we messed up. Not to mention that, for once, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Didn’t you just say I could do no wrong?”

“No, I said-“

“So, should we go to dinner, or do you want me to go buy some illegal contraband so you can arrest me again?” you tease.

Your smile drops when Tim says, “Dinner. Meet me outside in ten.”

He turns and is almost to the door when you ask, “Wait, seriously?”

[mimikittysblog]

The Princess - Teaser

Full story out now! ♡

Pairing: Mafia! Husbands! Poly! Ateez x Fem! Wife! Reader

Genre: Angst, some fluff, a bit of smut (no actual sex scenes of the sorts but they’re very sexual towards each other)

Synopsis: If ATZ, the biggest and baddest mafia in town, were asked what their prized possession is, they wouldn’t say what you think. It isn’t the money, the cars, the jewels, the priceless paintings or anything of the sorts. As cheesy and unexpected as it sounds, they would answer each other. Now while on surface that is true, the reality of it is their most prized possession, their true treasure, the one they don’t even dare let people know they have in true fear of it getting taken away, is you. Their Princess. So what would happen when one night, you don’t come home?

Warnings: Kidnapping, violence, implied sexual activity, death/murder (not of the major characters), alcohol consumption, MxM of course. So because of all of this please ⚠️MNDI⚠️ if I missed anything please let me know! (Will most likely add more when the full story is out).

Tagging: @faeprincess777 @starygw3n @bee-gremlin @pinkpearlstar @sweetinsaniiity @puppyminnnie (if you wanna be tagged when this fic releases or if any of you want to be taken off the Taglist please let me know!)

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

“My loves, have any of you seen or heard from Princess?”

Silence.

Nothing but silence as all discussions of work seems to halt after hearing Yeosangs question.

“Is.. she not home yet?” Seonghwa asked softly.

“Well.. I can’t find her anywhere and she’s not answering her phone…”

“What?!” Wooyoung exclaimed as he quickly pulled out his phone and called her number.

Yunho took a glance to the clock on the wall and saw how late it was.

“It’s past her curfew. She knows she’s supposed to be home by now.”

“Forget that! She knows to always answer us. And she’s literally not answering us!” Wooyoung groans after the call goes unanswered.

“She’s just supposed to go shopping again!” Jongho exclaims.

Suddenly they hear the front door open.

Believing its you, they all quickly rush down. However what they find are only your body guards, bloodied and bruised.

You?

Nowhere in sight.

At the sight of their bosses, your guards quickly got on their hands in knees. A position that screams begging for forgiveness.

“S-sirs! We’re sorry! So terribly sorry!! One second we were watching over her then the next we go-“

BANG

Hongjoong had no need for useless explanations or excuses.

His Princess was taken.

All he needs now is her back.

Mingi takes the gun from Hongjoongs hand and steps forward.

He kneels in front of one of the other guards and grabs him by the hair, positioning the gun under his chin.

“Where?”

“D-downtown! The alley near her favorite Chanel store!”

BANG

Jongho then takes the gun and aims it at the last guard.

“SIR! Please no forgive me!! I will find her! I will-“

BANG

Protecting you and making sure you come home safe was these guards only job. And yet they have failed.

Now they’ve lost you and to them there is no greater sin.

As Yunho is cleaning the blood off of Mingi’s face, Seonghwa turns to the maids and the henchmen stationed in the room. Clearly terrified as they’ve never seen their bosses so angry.

“Clean this up. We want this place spotless. Not a single trace of these sinners left behind. And get everyone to work. Find her. Check every corner. Turn every stone. Use any informant we have. Use any methods you can think of. Do what you must! And Find. Her. Now.”

With that they all scrambled and quickly got to work.

Your husbands then left the room. Rage and determination emanating from their very being.

They will find you.

And those that took you will pay.

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

At another mansion on the other side of the outskirts of town, much smaller than the one he calls home, San is residing. He’s currently on an undercover mission to get information they need to get rid of this nuisance of a mafia.

Once they got wind of how the head of the mafia likes collecting and having ‘toys’ around no matter the gender they knew one of them had to play the part.

After careful consideration and discussion they agreed upon San.

So currently he’s in the living room in nothing but a fur coat and his boxers, as how the man requests all his toys to dress, with said man and the rest of his toys. He’s just drinking his whiskey as the man plays, wishing he was back home.

Suddenly the door was slammed opened and a girl was thrown to the ground.

“Sir, we’ve retrieved what you’ve asked for!”

One of the henchmen announced loudly.

San acted uninterested and nonchalant until he glanced at and unfortunately recognized the poor girl on the ground.

..Princess..?

.✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ✧.

© mimikittysblog 2024

[dreamermonica]

—gender neutral reader x bakugou, just a drabble escalating into a oneshot cause my brain's rotting with mha (mostly katsuki) pls save me from the dump called writing block errr also mild language cuz this is boom boy

“what the hell?”

a very bad word crossed your mind the moment BAKUGOU had entered your dorm room—following shortly is a silence so dense that you swore you heard your stomach drop.

the object that had piqued the attention of your visitor were perched right upon your desk. the very same object that could very well also be the reason you meet your demise.

your dynamight plushies and figurines,

yes. plural.

—were bared in display, to the very man you harbored a big fat crush on.

the silence enveloped your room like a tight veil. a shudder makes its way down your spine when you finally felt a piercing gaze burning onto the back of your head. you are so fucked.

“i—uhm, i can explain!” you break the silence, holding your hands up whilst turning around to meet his crimson eyes—scanning you over whilst you attempt to figure out an excuse.

let's do a quick throwback:

see, you were rather confident in your abilities and quirk—one of the best, you smugly think—but academics were still a great obstacle to overcome, even for an upcoming pro hero. it's a formidable force that's against your dream becoming reality! not really, but you get the point.

damned ectoplasm shouldn't be teaching math! your brain cells were always fizzled out like kaminari's after he used up all his electricity by the time whenever ectoplasm had left the room after a discussion.

a dark cloud looms over your head more often after a particular topic you're struggling to comprehend, the fact that you were called out earlier by ectoplasm and miserably failed to answer didn't hell—and you're sure your god-sent classmates have noticed it.

a few smarties had reached out already—like yaoyorozu and iida, offering their notes with a smile and promising a few tutor lessons if you were to accept. keyword: if.

even though you were tearing up at their kindness and thoughtfulness, you gently declined them before slapping a fist to your chest—

“i shall overcome this by myself! my failure to adapt is a known weakness of mine, and i shall defeat this boss known as calculus with my own strength, no matter what it takes!”

a distant 'how manly!' sounded throughout the room.

it's not manly, you mentally cry out to kirishima. you were just embarrassed to actually get help because you were one of the top students of the class. you need to uphold your image as a capable student, whatever it takes! not so manly now, are we?!

the top one and top two worriedly glance you over, reluctant at your reasoning, but they hadn't pushed it further thankfully, and wished you good luck.

you definitely needed it, you sulk.

your stupid declaration must've spread throughout the entire class, cause now a scowling bakugou katsuki is stomping his way over to you once classes had finished, stopping a few feet away from you whilst you were packing up your stuff.

“oi. i heard your dumb ass earlier—why are you refusing to ask for help?! you plan on getting behind all of us just because of that damn picture perfect image of yours?!” he yells, and you're now sweating, twiddling with your fingers.

you're not surprised that he approached you—he had declared you as one of his rivals (he called you a stepping stone to his victory but same thing!) ages ago and knowing his competitive nature, you surmised he was probably disappointed that you were stumped in such a pathetic way.

“w-what pride do you mean, bakugo? haha...”

“shut the fuck up. you know what i'm talking about,” a finger presses onto your chest as if to emphasize his point, and you just now realize the distance between you.

caramel wafts its way to your nose. heat crawls up your neck as you avert your gaze away from his chiseled face.

he hisses at your dazed look, “i'm beating calculus into your goddamn brain later tonight whether you like it or not, you got that extra?!”

you break out of your stupor when he leans away from you to gauge your reaction. of course he'd say something like that, even if he was just trying to help.

you shrink under his gaze, embarrassed and defeated at his intensity. if even the big bad bakugo thinks you need help, then maybe you really do.

“...okay.” you resign after a few seconds of contemplation, “thank you, bakugo.”

clicking his tongue, he gives you one last look before turning on his heels, walking towards the door.

you look around and realize that you were the only ones left in the classroom. did he offer his help in private so you would keep the image you're upholding? eh, whatever, he was probably the embarrassed one because he never offers help willingly to anyone.

you blink.

wait—he never helps unless someone would beg on their knees for him, so why—

“...you were always the one preaching about lowering my pride or whatever,”

your eyes dart towards the sound of his voice where bakugo paused his steps at the exit, glaring at you over his shoulder.

he huffs as he adds on, “cut that shit out, hypocrite.”

you blink owlishly and he's gone as he turned the corner, his loud footsteps echoing through the hall.

shaking your head, you pack your stuff up and rush out the door shortly after, eager to return to the comfort provided by your bed.

his words ring in your ears as you walked back to the dorms.

—now, baam, we're back to the present.

you're so fucked, if it wasn't mentioned earlier.

bakugou katsuki is now staring at you, silently demanding an explanation on why you have a row of mini dynamights, ranging from the winter version of his costume, to one of him wearing his signature black tank top—he hasn't even debuted yet as a pro-hero, so the amount you have is probably concerning. maybe even borderline creepy.

fuck being creepy—this probably looks horrifying!

“it's—uh...”

you hadn't had the chance to hide them before he so rudely, barged into your room carrying the materials needed for your study session.

“well, you're my idol, because you're so strong and—” inflate his ego! it's not like it wasn't the truth either with how much you compliment him during training, so maybe he'll be distracted enough and let it slide—

“did ponytail make these for you?” he asked quietly, ignoring your praises and walking past your panicked state as he got closer to inspect the tiny versions of him. he slowly took one from the bunch—a plushie of him wearing the suit he specifically used for a mission in otheon. “how the hell are the outfits so accurate?”

“...”

“answer my questions and i'll let this weird obsession of yours a secret, fuckin' creep.” he seems to like the way you took in his words, horrified, a smirk dancing on his lips as he turns away.

this sadist, you swear to all might...

“okay, okay! so uh...” you gulp as he continues inspecting the army of tiny bakugous, “yes, i had yaoyorozu make them. as for the outfits—i borrowed your blueprints, remember? it was to find some inspiration in enhancing my own costume, but i guess it also had some other uses...?”

he grunts in response to your explanation as his eyes move away from the desk and land onto your bed, where a few more plushies of him resided.

your face is definitely burning up by now.

“wasn't aware you were a fan,” you could hear the grin as he spoke, and you're one hundred percent sure he's never going to live this down, “well, i guess it's expected. i am amazing after all.”

“...yeah.” you agree, albeit cautious, trying to sound uneager to avoid inflating his ego anymore than you already have.

he moves to lean over your bed and grabs a plushie of him wearing his school uniform, squeezing it lightly, “but if you want me to be honest—this shit's kinda creepy.”

would he stop you if you just took a swan dive out of your window? should you get him to roast you alive right now? you wish all might would just united-states-smash you at this moment.

your hands shoot up to your face as you crouched down, too humiliated to even look at him even if he wasn't facing you.

“kill me now...”

“i've got plenty of chances to do that in the future, don't worry,” he's oddly calm for someone who's standing in a room practically devoted to him, “this is pretty adorable of you i must admit,”

you freeze. tickle my pickle! no fucking way he just called you adorable!

“you got a crush on me or something?”

ah.

this is it. you hope you've done enough good to end up in heaven atleast.

“well, if you're not gonna kill me, we should probably just study and get it over with—oh, we should also just go down to the commons—

“i told you to answer all my questions, didn't i!?”

“...”

the blonde finally turns, hands free of any plushies, crossing his arms over his chest as you stare up at him through the gaps of your fingers. he raises a challenging brow at your hesitation.

“well?” he urges on, “did you go mute from embarrassment or something?”

you say something underneath your breath and he clicks his tongue in annoyance.

“speak up, you idio—”

“i like you, bakugou katsuki.”

you stand up from your crouched position and situated yourself to your desk, bringing out your textbooks from a drawer as he stared on silently. the silence had grown thicker than the one before.

“let's just get this study session over with so you can go, okay?” you spin around your office chair to look at him with a small smile, as if you didn't just confess, “wanna go down to the commons? my room seems to be uncomfortable for y—

“i was joking about the creep shit, you dumbass.”

you stare at him in surprise when he holds you by the shoulders, gently pushing down to prevent you from getting up from your chair.

“bakugou...?”

“...i'll teach you here. no need to get up.”

“but—”

“shut up. get ponytail to make me a plushie of you so we're even, alright?”

confused, you're about to speak up again and he resolves it by squeezing your cheeks, resulting in only incoherent babbles from your mouth.

“bafhkugou—!”

“ugh, i like you too, if your dumbass hasn't gotten it yet.”

“ohfmayghodf—”

“shut it. no more words from you.” he waits a moment for you to calm down, and lets go of your burning cheeks. a smile grows on his face when you weakly glare up at him, but it quickly turns wicked in the span of a second.

“now...you were so eager to start studying earlier, weren't you?”

he unfortunately wasn't joking about beating the damn subject onto your brain. you could feel a mild headache from all the times he hit your head with a roll of paper.

but nonetheless, you know the hard work and pain paid off when you finally got a question right during ectoplasm's class.

bless bakugou, you'd kiss him right now if you could—

“so,” the boy in question starts as you discreetly hand him a plushie of you in your hero costume, he seems to brighten up at that, taking it nearly immediately, but attempts to appear unbothered as he moves his gaze back to yours.

“are we gonna talk about that body pillow last night or—”

“katsuki—no.”

“pfft,” he snorts, “suit yourself, fangirl.”

imagine your surprise when yaoyorozu snitches and tells you that bakugou practically threated her to make more plushies of you after he received the initial one

[aangelinakii]

I have a vision, and you are the messenger.

Tim Drake x reader, "I can see you" by Taylor swift. It's either red robin or CEO!Tim

Good luck🫡

IF YOU ONLY KNEW.

— i could see you up against the wall with me.

summary : you work for wayne enterprises where tim drake is the ceo. if only everybody else knew what you two got up to.

note : i'm gonna be candid rn.... i was lowk putting this off because i'm not a big taylor fan and i was kind of expecting rhe song to be cringe BUT THEN I LISTENED TO IT AND I HAD THE IDEA SO CLEAR IN MY HEAD !!!!! so i hope i did justice for your vision !!!!!

breath, warm against skin, lips raking lower and lower, past cotton collars and loosened neckties. short, struggling moans purred against flesh, only making the small office space hotter.

tim's office was much larger, probably more ideal for a meeting like this — where it would be okay to brush the papers and pens off the desk and trap him within your arms against the wood — but you both knew people were less likely to come knocking on your door.

and so, here you were, pressing your boss against the wall, your nimble fingers inching down his bare chest, toned, smooth like porcelain, towards the waistline of his black tailored trousers, where the only thing in your way was the buckle of a belt.

knock, knock, knock.

both your movements halted, the temperature of the room immediately plummeting. your breath, once warm and heavy, sucked its way back down your throat, fingers freezing above the leather of tim's belt.

his hands, one on the small of your back, where it originally had been swooping lower, and the other on the nape of your neck, holding you closer, egging you on, went rigid, as if touched with frost bite. the curve of his dark eyebrows was still prominent, but now showed an expression of alarm as opposed to arousal.

the doorknob jiggled from the other side, rattling throughout the small space.

"sorry, i just didn't want to be disturbed!" you called out to your interrupter, grimacing as soon as you'd said it — lame excuse, much?

"no worries," a neat voice replied from behind the wood. "just reminding you we have a meeting in five minutes, and most are in the room already; mr drake has been... well, you've seen how he's been lately, just don't be late."

at this, tim's eyebrows furrowed, and his lower hand moved to your hip. taking in his offense, you had to bite down on the gum of your lip to not let out a laugh.

"yeah, of course, thanks," you responded, allowing a soft chuckle to pass your lips.

a few beats passed in silence, hearts throbbing against each other in anticipation, hoping your colleague had trudged away by now back to the meeting room.

finally, when you turned your head back to face tim, your smile couldn't help but curl.

messed hair, swollen lips, your boss peered up at you from beneath a creased brow. "how have i been lately? have my employees been bad-mouthing me?"

involuntarily, another laugh edged its way out, and you leaned in again to press a sweet kiss to those plumpened lips of his. "not bad-mouthing," you hummed back. "just discussing."

the mere skim of your lips against his seemed to soothe the wrinkle between his brows, the skin smooth between them when you looked back up at him.

"you can't deny, you've been a bit uptight this week," you continued as you stepped away to get to the buttons on your pale blue dress shirt.

"only because i've been so busy," tim sighed, still slumped against the wall, not making any efforts to move and tidy himself up. "haven't been able to see you."

your lips pulled up again greatfully, as your fingers fastened the final button, a couple below the base of your neck, for you weren't wearing a tie. although you didn't make a verbal reply, you could tell tim was watching you fondly as you grabbed the blazer that matched your bottoms from where it had been tossed onto your desk.

"we're going to be late," you breathed, almost sheepishly now as you pulled the jacket on, running your fingers over the lapels.

"hey, i'm the boss," tim grinned, the lopsided smile paired with the mess of his hair causing something warm to swell in your stomach. "they can't start without me."

something about the way he looked at you, even after you'd been pinning him against the wall, largely at your mercy in his own enterprise building, made you feel shy; something tickling at the back of your neck.

maybe it was the power dynamic; he was your boss, you some lowly file sorter, but when things got hot and heavy he was eager to quiver under your touch.

but now you didn't feel like that, and, with the way he looked you, neither did he.

this was something much softer, more domestic.

an equal giddiness.

pushing back anything shivery in your limbs, you stepped up towards him, fingers deftly threading button into slit up along his white shirt. "doesn't mean you shouldn't show up at all," you smiled, voice soft, quiet. "but you have to come after me."

"naturally."

when your eyes flickered up from the top button, you spied a cheeky smile on those pink lips of his, curling at the side, etching a handsome line into his skin.

"shut it," you commented lightly, unable to bite back your smile now.

a perfect, comfortable albeit a little shy, silence fell upon your shoulders, in which you popped up the collar of his shirt you'd previously peeled back and roughed up, and looped the maroon tie back under.

the meeting in the back of your mind, your fingers worked quickly, although expertly looping the knot into place, and then folding the white collar back over it.

next, your hands found the gelled mess of raven strands swinging in tim's pale blue eyes. "i'm gonna run. you fix yourself up, okay? wait a couple minutes after i leave."

you turned on your heel to leave, but a soft grip took your wrist, and pulled you back.

careful lips caressed the gap of skin between your eyebrows.

"i'll see you in a minute, wonderful," tim breathed, a calm, soothing voice in your ear.

with another smile, tim's already-loose grip loosened again and you slipped past him, unlocking the door to your office and disappearing down the hall.

indeed, when you reached the meeting room, the entire oval-shaped table was filled with wayne enterprise employees, save for two seats; one in the middle of two interns, and one at the head for mr drake himself.

you excused yourself upon entrance and sunk down into your seat, earning a couple smiles from your more friendly colleagues.

and then, a few minutes later, just as you'd said, the door creaked open again, causing eyes to follow.

at the head of the table, tim drake, hair smoothed back and expression stony, sat down in his chair, a stack of papers in his hands you hadn't known him to have had before he swung by your office. "apologies for my late arrival," he cleared his throat, pulling attention to him immediately. "i had business to attend to that couldn't wait."

perhaps you imagined it, but you swore his blue gaze met yours for the split of a second, and you had to bite down on your molars to hold back a smile.