#so that's just part of my job but again. that's just part of my job | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

luvhcarly · 3 days ago

Note

the council would like to request a part 2 to tell me how much u want it

PUT THAT SMART MOUTH OF YOURS IN A GOOD USE.

previous part

After you break up with your boyfriend because you found out he cheated on you again you find yourself infront of his apartment with tears streaming down your face, even though you told him that you should keep it professional…

PAIRINGS: dom!san x fem!reader

GENRE: smut, professor x student, college AU

TAGS: smut, p in v, cheating, cum swallowing, oral (m receiving), San is mean and toxic towards reader, age gap (San is in his 30s and reader is 22), angst, use of pet names (love, slut), swearing, kind of manipulation, San is obsessed with reader and can’t let her go, dirty talk, mention of divorce!, lmk if I missed anything!

WC: 7.3k

A/N: I wanted to thank you guys for the love on the previous part! I decided to give you part 2 of this so enjoy!

Reminder! English is not my first language if you find any mistake lmk!

You knew it would be a mistake to step into his office, but you couldn't ignore it. A few weeks have passed since what happened and clearly you couldn't stop think about it, but at the same time you felt guilty. You cheated on your boyfriend even though you basically just paid him back. Well, it wasn't you. You never did such impulsive things. You didn't tell anyone about what happened, despite the fact that your friend suspected you of something.

"Come in." You were snapped out of your thoughts by a man's voice that sent chills down your spine. You took a deep breath and stepped inside, immediately meeting his gaze, which you couldn't quite place. He was sitting on a chair and his hands were on the table, as if he was waiting for you to sit down. As soon as you looked around the room, you remembered everything that happened. The way he fucked you against the desk, the way he told you words that you would like to hear again.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" You put your thoughts behind your head and broke the silence that was between you two. He laughed at your 'sir' and shook his head. He pointed with his hand to the place in front of him for you to sit down and so you did. You sat down on a chair and put your hands on your thighs and cleared your throat nervously.

“Weeks ago you called me San, now you call me sir, again.” With a raised eyebrow he said as if he wanted to indicate something, but you didn't know exactly what. He sighed when you remained silent at his words and he leaned his body more against the seat, not taking his eyes off you. San scanned you, your hair was down and you were wearing a t-shirt that once again hugged your body too well. He cleared his throat when he realized that thoughts lead where they don't belong, but damn why did you have to look so fucking good. Your lips were slightly parted as if you were about to say something, your eyes looked at him with that look that drove him crazy.

"I think-" You took a deep breath and looked at him. "I think we should forget about what happened. It could affect my studies and-" if he was telling the truth, he really didn't expect this. He was expecting something like it shouldn’t happen again or that you should be careful about this? Did he feel… duped? Forget what happened? How the hell do you want him to forget?

“Yeah, It could affect my job so I agree.” But he did not argue and only nodded. He had nothing to say to you even if he wanted to scream at you, Kiss you and do it again and again without any consequences.

"That's all I wanted to talk about. You can go.” His words were sharp, toxic. Something inside you broke, your heart shattered as if you had been stabbed in the heart. Why did you want him to say something else? To say that he doesn't want to forget. That he wants it again and again.

"Okay." With those words, you stood up and turned around. Before you left, you gave him one last goodbye look and then left. You let him sit there, thinking about the fact that he should have stopped you and told you how he really feels. But he knew that he would hurt you and himself.

“Fuck-“ San mumbled under his breath and ran a hand through his hair, when you left. He didn't want to forget what happened, even if it was just an one time thing. He wanted to help you so that you wouldn't feel stupid that your boyfriend cheated on you, but rather he did it for himself because he couldn't stay away from you.

"Are you okay, babe?" Your boyfriend’s voice interrupted you when he noticed how you were playing with the food with your fork. Your expression was nervous, tired, something he hadn't seen in you that often.

"What?" You shifted your gaze from the food to him and swallowed loudly when he gave you a puzzled expression. "It's nothing just school stuff." You lied to him and gave him a smile, he nodded at your words and smiled back. Then there was a silence between you, which you didn't like that much, but you weren't in the mood to break it. Your thoughts were elsewhere. You were lost. You were lost in your own head.

“We should go on a dinner tomorrow, to take a break from the stress." He proposed to you with a nice smile and you took a sip from your drink, nodding at his suggestion and smiling at him. "Yeah, that would be great." You really weren't in the mood to go somewhere social, but you didn't refuse.

“Is something bothering you, y/n?” With that he suddenly asked and the fork fell from your hand to the floor. "I-..." you opened your mouth and were about to tell him everything that happened, but then you closed your mouth. “No. I am just tired as I said." That's the only thing you told him and he didn't discuss it further, even if he didn't believe you. Well, he wasn't planning on arguing with you or anything like that so he just nodded his head and continued to eat his food.

After dinner you lay down in bed and took your phone in your hand, your boyfriend was lying next to you and he was also on his phone. You decided to check whether the results of the tests you wrote last week had not arrived yet. Your eyes widened when you saw that you didn't pass his class.

Didn't pass.

How? He tutored you, you wrote everything correctly there. You furrowed your brows at that and your anger rose. What's his problem? You didn't understand it. And that’s why you stayed after his class the next day.

“Professor, wait!” You shouted as he left the classroom and you caught up with him with quick steps.

"I have another class, Ms. Y/n.” His words were again sharp without interest, as if he was telling to leave him alone that he was not interested in talking.

"It won't be long, I just-"

"We will discuss it tomorrow during class, if you have some problem." He stopped and turned to you. His brows were furrowed and he wore glasses. You swallowed loudly at his words and sighed.

"I-..." You opened your mouth and were about to say something, but then you nodded. Despite the fact that you were angry that you didn't pass his class, you suppressed your anger again. His expression made you feel the respect you had for him. "Okay." You said and he left without another word. When he was out of your sight enough, he let out a sigh that he didn't even know he was holding back. He knew that you probably wanted to talk about why you didn't pass. But his reason was simple. He thinks you have more in you than what you wrote in the test. That’s why he didn’t let you pass, or maybe there was another problem?

“Asshole.” You muttered to yourself as you slammed the locker shut and an annoyed sigh escaped your lips. He was acting strange.

"Who is an asshole?" Your friend's voice rang out and you jumped a little. You did not expect that she would be here and that she would hear you.

"You scared me!" You punched her on the shoulder and she laughed at your words, but then immediately gave you a serious expression.

"Who were you cursing at?" She asked again, her curiosity growing. You raised your eyebrows at her question and pretended that you didn’t say anything before

"What? No one." You gave her a smile, but she still didn't believe you, she already knew you very well. "Your boyfriend again?" She leaned against the locker and crossed her arms over her chest, patiently waiting for your answer.

"No, of course not." You blurted out quickly and she just sighed and bit her lower lip as if she wanted to tell you something.

“You are acting weird lately. Is everything okay?” She finally asked and you ran a hand through your hair and furrowed your brows.

"I'm fine! Why is everyone asking me that”You said with a raised voice and your friend sighed and shook her head. She didn't understand why you were suddenly so angry and nervous. You were never like that, you always walked around smiling, but now you looked like you were going through something. When you realized that you had raised your voice at her and that you are taking out your anger on her for no reason, you swallowed loudly and squeezed your eyes.

"I'm sorry... I'm just tired." You rubbed your forehead and looked at her. She had a disappointed expression on her face, as if she understood you. "Yeah, I get it. Get some rest, y/n.” With her hand she stroked your shoulder. "And stop stressing about school." She added and gave you a sweet, friendly smile, which you returned in return.

You were nervous all day, probably because of school. Despite the fact that you were not in the mood to go to that dinner with your boyfriend, you went. You went to a romantic restaurant together and sat down, talked and joked. You felt that it was the same again as before and your stress subsided. "I will be right back, babe." He stood up and you smiled at him from behind the glass and he directed his steps to the bathroom. At that moment, his phone, which had its screen facing downwards, started ringing. Somehow you didn't pay attention to it, but when the phone rang several times, you gave up. You looked around the restaurant to see if he was coming back, but when you saw that he was nowhere to be found, you picked up his phone.

"When are you going to break up with y/n?"

"Babe, I want you. Please?”

"Can you come over tonight, we could have some fun?" ;).”

You swallowed at the texts and a tear started to run down your cheek.

“I’m back-“ A voice came from behind you and you gripped the phone tighter in your hand and gave him a hateful look.

"Babe, It's not what-"

"Save it. I don’t want to hear it. You didn’t change.” Your voice was hateful and your words were sharp, he leaned closer to you and wanted to stroke your shoulder, but you pulled away.

"Can we talk about it? Everybody is watching us, y/n. Calm down." He looked around nervously when he noticed people's curious looks. You wiped your tears and picked up your jacket.

“No.” You muttered. "We are done." You said and he shook his head at your decision. With those words you left and left him there alone. As soon as you left the restaurant, you put on your jacket and hugged your body. Raindrops began to fall on your skin, which you let out a sigh. You didn't know where to go. Only one place came to your mind. His apartment.

Flashback.

“She signed the papers.” He informed you and looked up from the phone to you and measured you. You already had your skirt on and put your t-shirt back on. "That's great!" You gave him a sweet smile and he sighed but then smiled. He leaned his body against his desk and ran a hand through his hair before resting his hands over his chest.

"Yeah, it is, but I will have to move out."

"Move out? Where?” You blinked fastly at him being confused. He could hear in your voice that you were a little afraid that he would leave, but you didn't try to show it in any way.

"You know the new apartments just two blocks away from school?” For a small moment, you thought about his words, but when you remembered the new apartments nearby, you nodded.

"Well, I already have papers set for this but I waited if she would sign the papers and she did so." He usually didn't talk that much, but now he wanted to. He wanted to tell you everything that was on his mind, and it didn't bother you at all. You liked to listen to him and you were glad that he was saying something that was bothering him. San looked at you nervously, as if he realized that he might be talking too much, but your words calmed him down.

"The apartments are beautiful and I think that it's a great opportunity to start a new life for you." Your words were soft and kind, it warmed his heart. Maybe it's an opportunity to start something new. Something that will fill him and make him feel good. He gave you a smile and his thoughts took him where they probably shouldn't have. Well, for a few seconds he imagined that he lives with you, but then he immediately put it behind him. It's impossible.

End of flashback

“Y/n?” The door in front of you opened and he appeared there. His hair was messy and his eyes were tired, he was wearing a black oversized T-shirt and gray sweatpants. It was strange because you didn't usually see this on him.

"I'm sorry to barge in here like this but-" You stopped talking for a moment and took a deep breath. "I didn't know where else to go." Your hair was wet and so were your clothes. He had a surprised expression on the shapes that you were standing here in front of him, your eyes completely red and your mascara smeared.

"Come in." The words he usually spoke gave a completely different meaning to you. He stepped back from the door and let you in, taking your jacket off your shoulders and hanging it on the hanger to dry. He then directed his steps into the kitchen and you followed him, looking around the apartment with your eyes. It was nice and new. Everything was in white and black colors, which you would expect from him.

Without another word, he took a sip of water and leaned against the kitchen counter while you kept looking around. He could see from your shape that something was wrong, otherwise you probably wouldn't be here. But he was surprised that you remembered his words from a few weeks ago. He didn’t ask you what happened, he just looked at you with his eyes and then put the glass down.

You watched with your eyes as he left suddenly and then came back with a dry T-shirt and sweatpants. "Go take a shower." He ordered and handed you dry clothes. You nodded at his words and he let out a sigh. As soon as he pointed in the direction where the bathroom was, you directed your steps there. When you stepped into the bathroom, you smelled his usual scent and you swallowed loudly at that. Then you took off your wet clothes and stepped into the shower. Immediately warm almost hot water touched your skin and you tried to wash away all the bad thoughts and the anger you still had inside. You were a fool to think it wouldn't happen again. You naively thought that everything would be the same as before.

A small sigh escaped your lips as the same scene replayed in your head as you slowly scrolled through the screen of his phone and read the texts. You still couldn't believe that it happened so suddenly. You spent quite a long time in the shower, and he thought that something had happened to you, but when he saw that you got out of the shower. Your hair washed and his clothes on you. The shirt he gave you was a little bigger, and the sweatpants too…

San cleared his throat and he pushed you a cup of tea infront of your face, which you graciously accepted and sat down on the couch next to him. You took a sip of the hot tea and looked ahead. There was an awkward silence between you, as if you were both thinking of what to say. Well, the only thing you could say was:

"Thank you." You muttered and looked down at the cup of tea you were clutching tightly in your hand. You had the feeling that if you clenched it even more, it would shatter into a million pieces. Like you an hour ago. "I broke up with him." You suddenly blurted out and he immediately turned his gaze to you. He raised his eyebrows slightly at your words as if he didn't expect it.

"Sorry to hear that." He actually lied, he was glad you were not together. That you did it. Did he feel happy? Relaxed? He didn't even know how he felt, but he only knew that deep down he was glad that it was so.

“He did it again.” You added and he furrowed his brows. He didn't like it, but even more he didn't like that you were here and that you were saying this to him.

"Why are you telling me this?" You shifted your gaze from the tea to him and gently parted your lips. You didn't know what to say to that. A tear ran down your cheek and you wiped it away with the tip of your fingers and swallowed loudly.

"I'm just confused." He laughed, he didn't even know why, but he found this situation funny. "Yesterday you told me that we should keep it professional and now you are here. Crying.” His words were sharp and unpleasant. You put the tea on the table in front of you and shook your head at his words that he was right. But why didn't you feel it that way?

"You are right. I-" as soon as you started to speak, he cut you off.

"Are you doing this on purpose or what?" His eyebrows were furrowed and he had a strange expression on his features that you had never seen on him.

“What? No! Of course not I just-“

“You giving me those eyes during class, showing up in my apartment.” He shook his head at you, he didn't care that the tears were running down your cheeks more and more. He wasn't really interested at this moment because he wanted to understand why you were doing all this. What is your deal? Distracting him?

“Tell me y/n. Why?” He raised his eyebrows and stared at you, patiently waiting for your answer. "Because I'm curious. You just show up here crying and telling me the same shit over again.” He let out a sigh and you just stroked your brows furrowed and lips parted, tears still running down your cheek. "Expecting what? That I will tell you It's alright and some other kind of shit?" He chuckled at his words and ran a hand through his hair, leaning further into the couch. His eyes were fixed in front of him, but you were watching him. You watched his every move and listened carefully to his sharp words that came from the depths of his heart.

"that I will hug you and whisper lovely words to your ear?" He added and then got back into the previous position to see your face. He could see on your face that you were taken aback by his words and that you didn't know what to say. “Well, I am not that kind of guy, if you thought that I would do that.” You took a deep breath when he finally finished and wiped your tears again and stood up from the couch.

"It was a mistake coming here." You muttered and when you were about to leave, his words stopped you.

"Yeah walk away. That's what you are best at." He had his elbows on his knees and watched carefully as you turned sharply at his words, tears were no longer running down your cheeks, but he could see from your features that you were angry. Angry because of what he said.

“Says you. You walked away from your wife and almost cried at my fucking shoulder after you fucked me.” Your words were full of anger, you were like a ticking bomb. He got up from the couch at your words and stepped closer to you. His jaw clenched and his Adam apple bopping every time he swallowed.

"I fucked you because I saw that you were desperate, remember?" He said and you shook your head at his words, you knew he was right but still you didn't let it go.

"I let you because you were so desperate to fuck someone who actually gives a fuck about you." You spilled those words into his face and at that moment he grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer, his hot breath touching your face.

"I can choose who I want to fuck, love. You would be surprised how many students came to my office and flirted with me. But I only fucked you, isn't that funny?" His words were ridiculous, he directly mocked you. He moved closer to your ear and his words sent a chill down your spine. "Should I remind you the words you said to me?" Your breath hitched and he saw it. He saw how you suddenly became nervous and also how a chill passed through your body, his words full of mockery and teasing. He knew very well the effect he had on you and he intended to use it very well.

"That I fucked you better than your boyfriend. Pfuu… y/n.” He pulled away from you to get a good look at you. "Tough words, right?" You swallowed at his words because he was right, but you still had no plans to stop throwing arguments at him.

"I only said that to make you satisfied and to boost your ego." Your words were funny to him so he just laughed at you and your stupidity.

"Your body said something else that time." San enjoyed how your body trembled gently and how his words always sent chills down your spine every time. But he thought it was very funny how you pretended that it had no effect on you and that you looked confident. “And now your body is saying something else too.” He shifted his eyes to your parted lips and how you immediately closed them and swallowed. You hated it as he had readen you from head to toe. How did he know what reacts to you and what doesn't.

“You asked why.” Out of the blue you changed the subject and his grip loosened on your wrist and he raised his eyebrows. He didn't understand where you were going with those words.

"What?" He asked you incomprehensibly and a small sigh escaped your lips, wondering if you really should say that. "I came because of you." You looked into his eyes and searched for something in them, maybe a hint of what he was thinking. That he feels what you feel.

"I came because I can't stop thinking about you. Fuck, you- you are driving me crazy.” Your words caught him by surprise and he immediately let go of your wrist and bit the inner corner of his mouth. “And fuck, yeah I expected you to hold me and tell me that it will be okay. I admit, okay? I even admit that I always walk away from the problems instead of solving them. And I��m sorry about what I said about your ex-wife. Fuck, I even admit that you fucked-“

“Just, shut up.” He interrupted you and immediately took your cheeks in his hands, using them to bring you closer to him and kiss you. Despite the fact that his words before were sharp and unpleasant, you let him kiss you. You wanted it. His touch on your cheeks was soft and warm and the kiss was soft and gentle. “You talk too much.” He said between kisses and his hands slipped to your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss became more dominant and passionate, he ran his tongue over your lips and you opened your mouth and gave him the freedom to push his tongue into your mouth. His tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that belied his earlier resistance and you sighed as his hands slid to your ass and squeezed it.

He lifted your body by your ass and you immediately wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Without breaking the passionate kiss, he carried you to his bedroom and slammed the door behind him, leaning you against it. He let your body slowly slide off him and put one hand on your waist and the other on your cheek and caressed it gently. You slid your hand under his shirt and ran your fingers over his stomach, as he let out a shaky breath as your fingers traced his abs, his head falling back briefly. "Fuck, you're going to be the death of me," he muttered, quickly pulling his shirt off and tossing it aside.

“Yeah?” You asked him with a teasing voice still tracing your fingers slowly along his abs. "Yes, really," San growled at that, catching your wrists and pinning them above your head against the door, having enough of your teasing. He leaned in close, his lips barely brushing your ear. "One minute I'm pissed as hell at you, and the next..." He trailed off, pressing gentle kisses along your neck. “Then next I want to fuck you until the only word you remember is my name.” A slight moan escaped from your lips as he started to leave wet kisses along your neck.

His mouth curved into a satisfied smirk as he felt your body tremble against his. "Like that, do you?" he whispered, purposely leaving another wet mark just below your ear. His hands released your wrists, one sliding down to grip your waist while the other began pushing your shirt up, sending shivers down your spine. His cold hands touching your warm skin made you part your lips slightly and he noticed.

“So fucking sensitive," he murmured, his cold hand leaving goosebumps in its wake as he pushed your shirt higher. San broke the kisses on your neck just long enough to pull the shirt over your head and toss it aside, leaving you in just a lacy bra. His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, half-naked and breathing heavily against the door. He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a rough, passionate kiss as his hands reached behind you to unhook your bra.

“Mhm~” Being too desperate you moaned into the kiss as the bra hit the floor silently, freeing your breasts. He growled softly as your breasts pressed against his bare chest, one of his hands coming up to grope one possessively. Your moan echoed in his mouth, making him harder.

“Fuck- San, I need-“ he cut you off immediately.

“Shut up." San said against your lips before kissing you deeply again, swallowing any further words. His hand squeezed your breast roughly as his hips pressed against yours, letting you feel how hard he was already. Breaking the kiss, he nipped at your bottom lip. "Pants off. Now." You swallowed at his sharp words and you slowly pulled your sweatpants down, keeping an eye contact with him as he watched you carefully, enjoying how you obeyed him.

His gaze remained fiercely locked with yours as you peeled off your sweatpants, a wicked grin spreading across his face when you stood before him in nothing but in your panties. “Those off too. Come on.” Without breaking eye contact, he ordered watching how your body trembled every time. Slowly you pulled your panties down as he watched you with a smirk on his face. God he liked how you obeyed him every time.

“On your knees.” When those words left his mouth you swallowed. At first you remained in your place not being so sure but his voice was heard again. “Come on, love. Get on your knees for me.” His voice was low, demanding and you slowly slid to your knees, looking up at him. With a soft touch he cupped your cheek and grinned at the sight of you being in front of him on your knees.

His thumb gently stroked your cheek as he leaned down and whispered, "Isn’t if funny how minute ago you screamed at me that you let me fuck you just because I was desperate to fuck someone who gives a fuck." He kept eye contact while he slowly pulled his sweatpants down, a smirk playing on his lips as you watched him. “Now, look at you, y/n. You are here again. Obeying like a slut.” You swallowed hard at his words and your body trembled even more as you watched how he pulled his sweatpants and boxers down in one swift movement and your breath hitched as you saw him fully naked now. He was huge just like you remembered. Long and thick. He smirked watching your reaction. "Now, put that smart mouth of yours in a good use, will you?”

With a shy look on your face you brought your lips to his length and a shudder ran through him as your lips barely brushed against the tip. San groaned quietly, his fingers twitching against your cheek. "What did I say, love?" His voice was low, furious as he grabbed you by your hair roughly and he pressed himself against your lips, silently urging you to take him in.

As soon as you opened your mouth, he pushed himself in, filling your small mouth instantly. He groaned as he hit the back of your throat, pulling your hair harder to keep you in place. "Look at me." he growled, his hips bucking slightly to push himself deeper. With a small tears in your eyes you looked up at him through your eyelashes as he enjoyed the sight of you. He enjoyed how you fell apart on his cock.

San's eyes darkened with lust as he held your gaze, drinking in the sight of you trembling slightly, tears glistening at the corners of your eyes. He smirked, pleased by how perfectly you were submitting to him. "You look fucking gorgeous with your lips wrapped around my cock," His thick length pulsed in your mouth as he admired the view—your pretty lips stretched around him, taking him so deep. "Such a good girl," His grip tightened in your hair, holding you firmly in place as he slowly thrusted, savoring the slick heat of your mouth.

You moaned against his cock immediately sending shivers down his spine at that, then slowly you made your way with your hand to your wet core, the pleasure being too much but his words cut you off right away. "No...don't you fucking dare." He warned in that deep, authoritative tone you loved. With one quick motion, he grabbed your wrist, preventing your hand from reaching its destination. "Only my hands get to touch you there tonight, got it?" His hips thrust forward again, making you gag slightly. You let out a little cry at his warning words and San smirked as he watched you suppress your whimper, pleased by your obedience. Keeping a firm grip on your hair, he began to thrust more deliberately, each stroke pushing deeper into your throat. The wet sounds of your mouth working his cock filled the room, punctuated by his low groans of pleasure.

“So pretty.” He tilted his head back, savoring the sensation as he hit the back of your throat perfectly, but then he looked back down at you, seeing the slight flush on your cheeks and the tears streaming down your face. He was close, so very close to bursting apart in your mouth. "So good, just for me, yeah?”

You moaned again and he let out a shuddering groan as your moan vibrated around his sensitive cock, the sensation almost too intense. The sight of you squeezing your thighs together desperately, unable to touch yourself yet trembling with need, pushed him over the edge. "Fuck, I'm gonna-" He threw his head back and with one final thrust, he buried himself deep in your throat and came undone, his hot seed spilling into your mouth as he let out a low, guttural groan. His hips jerked erratically as he rode out his release, eyes locked onto yours, intense and unblinking. You watched, mesmerized, as he came undone completely, his body shaking with the force of his orgasm. "Swallow it, come on.” Without second thought you swallowed all his release, squeezing your eyes.

He let out another groan as he watched you swallow every drop like it was the best thing you've ever tasted. Your throat worked sexily as you swallowed, making his spent member twitch again. "Goddamn," He muttered softly, petting your hair gently now instead of gripping it harshly.

“Please.” A whispered please escaped from your mouth as you squeezed your thighs more. His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you squeezing your thighs, desperate and needy. He knew exactly what you were begging for, he leaned down, cupping your chin in his hand. "What do you want, love?" He asked in a smooth, knowing tone.

“I need you. Please.” A small chuckle escaped from his mouth at your desperate cry, his fingers trailing down your chin to your throat. "You need what?" He asked, his voice dropping lower, "You need my hands on your thighs? You need my face between your legs? You need my fingers inside you? My cock?" You let out a shaky breath at his words, swallowing loudly.

“Please, make me feel good, San.” He smirked mischievously at you, grabbing you by your wrist tightly and pulling you up from the ground. You were immediately met with his intense gaze and his hot breath on your lips. “Please-“ When you started to beg again he silenced you with a harsh, bruising kiss, his other hand reaching to your hip, guiding you slowly to the bed. He broke the kiss, panting, "You want to feel good?" Your knees immediately hitting the bed and he showed you down on the mattress, watching you swallow and your breath becoming more heavier which made his cock twitch.

With your elbows you supported your body as you leaned back more and you observed him as he stood there watching you for a moment, admiring how perfectly you surrendered your body to him. Your chest rising and falling with anticipation, lips parted slightly. "Spread your legs," he commanded, his voice hoarse with desire. When you hesitated for just a moment, he added firmly, "Now." Without another second you spread your legs for him and he positioned himself between your thighs, his hands firmly gripping your knees to keep them spread wide. "Fuck," he muttered under his breath, seeing how wet you were, your pink folds glistening with need. He slowly ran his fingers along your slit, not penetrating but just teasing.

“Fuck-“ When you felt his finger ran along your slit you threw your head back and shut your eyes, begging with your little moans to be touched more.

“Eyes on me, love.” With a raised tone he grabbed you by your jaw and made you look straight into his eyes, his fingers splaying out to keep your knees spread wide. When he slowly pressed his tip against your wet pussy he watched your eyes roll back slightly but snapped them back to his with a sharp tug on your jaw. "You just won’t listen, will you?" he asked, his thumb rubbing your chin roughly. "You want to be fucked?” You were unable to concentrate when he pressed his tip on your wet pussy, teasing you. The only thing you managed to do was shake your head which wasn’t enough for him.

He saw the contradiction in your body language and smirked. "You don't want to be fucked?" he asked, pressing just the tip of his cock inside you, but not enough to satisfy your need. He was teasing you, loving the power he had over you.

“No! I want to be- I want to be fucked, please!” A dark laugh escaped his lips as he heard you beg for it. He leaned down, his breath hot on your ear. "That's what I thought," he whispered, driving his cock fully into you in one swift motion. You gasped, your back arching as he filled you completely, capturing your mouth into a deep kiss. Right away you moved your hands to his back and he groaned into the kiss, loving the way your nails dug into his back.

He started to move his hips, slowly at first, letting you feel every inch of him as he pulled out and thrust back in. He broke the kiss to nip at your neck, sucking and biting to mark you. Then he pulled away his dark eyes locked onto yours, demanding your attention and devotion. "Tell me who's fucking you this good." He lifted your chin with his hand as he continued to thrust into you deeply and slowly, his piercing hitting your g-spot with each thrust.

“Y-you.”

"What I didn’t quite hear you." He teased, his voice low and commanding as he continued his slow, deep thrusts, hitting your g-spot with each movement. His other hand reached up to wrap around your throat, squeezing gently as he looked into your eyes. "Say my name, love."

“San.” You moaned more louder and he smirked at that, enjoying how you are taking his cock so well. "Like that," He growled, thrusting harder. "You take my dick so well," He murmured, watching your body bounce slightly with each snap of his hips. "Spread your legs wider." He ordered softly, watching you eagerly obey.

"You know what I love?" You gasped as he thrusted deeper into you, gripping your hip more tight every time. He enjoyed the sight of you how you opened your mouth into a little ‘O’ when he thrusted more deeper, making you take his full length.

"Watching your pretty face while I destroy this tight pussy," He whispered darkly, increasing his pace. His hand around your throat tightened slightly, showing his possessiveness. His thumb traced your bottom lip as he continued pounding into you. "Christ you feel so good..." He leaned down to nip at your ear as he felt your nails dig deeper into his back as he hit that sweet spot inside you, making you cry out his name loudly. He smirked against your neck, loving the sound of your voice saying his name. His hips moved in a circular motion, hitting your g-spot from different angles as he spoke. “So glad you left- you left that boyfriend of yours.” The fact he was struggling with his words made you moan even more. “Now you are all mine. Right?” The grip on your throat tightening as he looked at you with a hungry gaze. “Say it that you are mine.”

“I’m yours.” As his dick was too much for you, you hid your face in the crotch of his neck, but he immediately pulled you back. "That's right, you're fucking mine," he growled possessively, capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss, bitting your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, marking you. He continued to pound into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

“Y-yours.” Even though you were unable to breathe you repeated again but San hadn’t enough of it, yet.

"Again," His voice hoarse as he continued his brutal pace, his hands roaming your body possessively, squeezing your breast and spreading your thighs wider. "Say it like you mean it," He ordered, his eyes locked onto yours as he continued his punishing rhythm.

“I-…” You were moaning mess you couldn’t get a simple word out of you as he kept thrusting more rougher. He laughed at your state but still he said;

"Use that mouth yours like when you talk shit." He growled as his hips were snapping forward with each word. "Tell. Me. You're. Mine." He punctuated each word with a deep thrust, hitting your g-spot perfectly, his eyes burning with intensity as he watched you struggle to speak.

“I’m yours. Fuck-… only…” To catch a breath you paused for a second, “Only yours”

"Goddamn," Softly he muttered, slowing down his pace. He loved hearing those words from your mouth. Slightly, he pulled out then snapped his hips back in hard, making you cry out. He smirked wickedly. "You know what I wanna do?" Finally he moved your hand from your throat to your hip again and again he pulled out of you and then snapped his hips back in hard. With hunger in his eyes he watched you let out a little cry as he kept doing that for a while. But then he kept his pace slow and deep, dragging his piercing along your walls. "I wanna fill this pretty pussy up with my cum, mark you inside and out. Make sure everyone knows you're taken," He leaned down, biting your earlobe. "What do you say to that, love?" Your eyes widened at his words and a chill run down your spine.

“W-what?” Out of breath you asked him he chuckled darkly at your shocked expression, his slow thrusts maintaining their deep pressure. "You heard me," he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Want my cum inside you?" His hand slid down to rub your clit in tight circles, making your hips jerk involuntarily.

When his hand met your clit, teasing you, you let out a loud moan and shook your head in agreement watching him smirk at you mischievously loving the effect he had on you. At that he speeded up the pace again thrusting more deeper and rougher than before trying to chase your and his own high. His cock pounded into you with renewed vigor, his breath growing ragged and his eyes never leaving yours. "Fuck, you feel too good," he groaned, his fingers digging into your thighs as he spread them wider to accommodate his deep, brutal thrusts. "I’m gonna fill you up."

“Please.” With a loud moan you begged and you grabbed him by his cheeks, pulling him closer and kissing him roughly. He kissed you back fiercely, swallowing your desperate plea as he continued his relentless pace. His tongue invaded your mouth, claiming every inch as his cock claimed your pussy. "Fuck, you are so desperate for me." he teased breathlessly against your lips, giving a particularly hard thrust that made you see stars. He could feel that you were close when your walls started to clinching more on his dick.

"Are you gonna cum for me, love?" He whispered darkly, picking up the pace even more, his thrusts becoming almost violent, his pelvis grinding against your clit with every stroke. "Look at me when you come." He could feel his own release building, his muscles tensing. Moans echoed in the room as you sank your nails into his back once again as you came.

"Fuck, yes," he hissed at the sudden pain mixing with pleasure. His nails dug into your hips hard enough to leave marks as he surged forward, his entire body stiffening. He let out a guttural roar, his hot cum filling you up, overflowing and dripping down your legs. After that he didn’t pull out, he stayed inside you for a while pressing his forehead against yours, smiling softly at you. It was different than before. This didn’t feel like sex, like it did back then in his office. It felt more like love?…

#choi san x you #choi san imagines #choi san ateez #ateez choi san #choi san x reader #choi san smut #san smut #choi san #ateez oneshot #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #choi san x y/n #choi san x female reader #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez ot8

246 notes · View notes

traveler-at-heart · 1 day ago

Text

Doctor's In - Part 16

Summary: Your Westview fam reunites with you and Boston as you prepare to leave the city.

A/N: I believe this is what @jerullium and I would call a filler episode but hey! Enjoy if you like Wanda fluff

You know what the call is about.

“Hello?” you practically sing, your eyes on the road.

“Stop that” Wanda warns you.

“Stop what?”

“Changing the music. You know I don’t like that girl!”

“Babe, Chappell is great” you play dumb.

“I’m the only redhead you can love”

“Yes, darling. Have you asked the kids yet?”

“Just about to. I’m picking them up before my mother steals my car and crashes against a police car. Again”

You want to laugh at how annoyed Wanda sounds. Honestly, you’re dying to meet her mother.

“Let me know if they agree to come so I can get your tickets”

“I can do that…”

“You’re all flying first class, and that’s final. Gotta go. Love ya”

“Me too… you’re playing her music again!” she says and you hang up, laughing.

“You guys are adorable” Val says, sitting next to you in the car.

“Yelena likes to call it ridiculously corny”

“So, not that this is any of my business… but why are you looking to work abroad if you are in a relationship with Wanda? I don’t think she’d be willing to move, right?”

“Well… that’s why I was curious about that summer program you mentioned with an NGO”

Valkyrie knew enough people and organizations to find something that wouldn’t mean moving to a different country indefinitely.

And as it turned out, you had a few common friends, including none other than Sharon Carter.

She was a couple years ahead of you in college, but you’d always gotten along. Thanks to Val, you knew she was ready to move back home -her whole family was in Boston- and you were hoping she could take an interest in working for Romanoff Medical Center.

After everything Melina had done for you (even if it was out of self interest to provide Yelena with a mentor), you didn’t feel comfortable just leaving without a thought after your contract was up.

As you go meet Sharon at the restaurant, your mind drifts to Billy and Tommy. Would they be excited at the prospect of seeing you? Wanda had only mentioned they went through a rough patch, but you were always too afraid to ask the details.

The sight of Sharon waving at you brings you back to reality.

“Carter girl” you greet like you did in college, hugging her.

“Look at you, all grown up”

“Look at you, working for WHO”

“It’s nothing, really” she shrugs it off, greeting Val as well.

There’s some talk about work, just chit chat while the waiter was hanging around waiting to take your order. Once he’s done and you have some space to talk more freely, Sharon turns to you, a smirk on her face.

“You still a player?”

That makes you choke on your drink, while Val whistles.

“What? Here I was thinking this one was a family gal”

“Wait, hold up. That’s insane. In college, she used to charm every girl. Not even the ones with boyfriends were safe” Sharon says, making you blush.

“I don’t seem to recall…”

“Jean Grey.”

“Ok, got it. No need to go further into detail” you interrupt her, suddenly remembering that yeah, you had been a bit of a player in college. “Now I’m with someone who has two kids, so I’m looking to return to Westview”

“Romanoff Medical is going to need a great Head of Trauma” Val chimes in.

“The pay is spectacular”

“Mhm. Heard Melina can be hard to deal with” Sharon says and you sigh.

“Honestly? Not as much. Not if you do your job and you’re good at it. Like me” you wink at her.

“Well, I’d be looking to start in a month or so, because I really wanna get some rest and be with my family”

“Timing couldn’t be better… except I need someone to cover for me this weekend. Do you mind?”

“That’s going to cost you a mimosa”

“Done” you say, waving at the waiter.

—

Wanda is stalling.

Things were getting better between her and the kids. There was no arguing, even if Billy had decided to quit the soccer team.

She knew they still missed you, but they were starting to heal. And your relationship was going well, but Wanda was afraid of so many things.

Of screwing it up again. Hurting the kids.

Getting hurt.

Though you’d never ever do it, she trusted you completely.

She’s still thinking about how to bring up the trip to the kids when she gets a text from you.

Y/N: Hey, it’s been a couple of hours. If you’re not ready or think it’s not the best idea to bring the kids, I get it. They always come first. Just know that I love you no matter what :)

Wanda smiles at that.

She decides to leave her study and go to the twins’ room, where they’re doing some homework.

“Hey, do you guys have a minute?” she sits in Billy’s bed, and Tommy joins them. “So, I know we haven’t spoken about Y/N. She’s been living and working in Boston”

“That’s where you’ve been traveling to” Tommy says, looking up.

“Right. And we ran into each other… started talking. She mentioned you could join me on my next trip and we’d all go around the city together. There are some cool stuff to do and see”

“Seriously? That would be awesome! Yes, I want to come with you!” Tommy says, excited. Wanda’s about to ask Billy when he jumps out of bed, running to lock himself in the bathroom.

“Wait here, sweetheart” she asks Tommy. “Billy? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t wanna go”

“Why? Are you angry at Y/N?”

“No”

“Then me?”

“No” he says, this time with less conviction.

“Then what is it?”

“You’re only making us go so you both can give us the talk” he says through the door, and Wanda decides to open it.

“What talk?” she sits on the floor next to her son, running her hands through his hair.

“The same talk Emily’s parents had with her when they were getting a divorce. About how it wasn’t her fault and they’d always love her even if they weren’t together”

“No, that’s not it at all, Billy”

“She just wants to say goodbye to us”

“I promise you that’s not it. We’re both trying hard to fix everything, my sweet boy. Have our family back” Billy turns around to wipe his face, and Wanda sighs. “Would it make you feel better if Y/N told you herself?”

That makes the boy turn.

Wanda takes out her phone, dialing your number and hoping you’re not too busy with work.

“Hey, beautiful. Got any news for me? Will I get to see my boys?”

“Y/N!” Billy jumps up, leaning his head against Wanda’s to hear you better.

“Billy? Hey kiddo. How are you? I’ve missed you so damn much”

He’s so excited he doesn’t even notice the curse word that leaves your mouth.

“I missed you too! Do you like Boston?”

“It’s alright. Would be a lot more fun if you guys came over to visit me. What do you say?”

“We’ll do some fun stuff?”

“And eat ice cream”

“This isn’t to say goodbye?”

“Goodbye? I have my ticket to Westview in a couple of weeks, Billy. You’re not getting rid of me”

“Ok, yeah! We’ll see you soon!” he says, excited. You laugh.

“Alright then. Now let me speak to your mom”

He hands over the phone, running back to his room.

“We have thirty seconds before Tommy comes running to talk to you”

“Ok, I’ll take it to say I love you and can’t wait to see you all this weekend”

“Will we stay at the penthouse?”

“I’m not sure it’s very child friendly so let’s get a suite at a nice hotel” you say, knowing the place was full of expensive things that could easily break with two kids running around.

Like clockwork, Tommy shows up, kneeling next to his mother.

“Y/N! Can we go to a Red Sox game?”

“I’ll see what I can do, buddy” you say. He keeps talking, asking questions about the city.

Billy joins in a second later, and this is the first time in months that Wanda’s seen them so happy and excited.

She can’t wait to have her entire family back together.

—

Rumor has it, Fury has found a replacement. He only schedules interviews when Darcy’s away and he asks goody two shoes Kamala Kahn to deliver all the CVs he needs to read.

She’d never move to the dark side, unfortunately.

Darcy is running out of ideas to keep the job open.

There’s one, though.

“Fuck it” she decides, walking to Fury’s office and ignoring his secretary when she says he’s busy.

He obviously isn’t, signing papers.

“Yes, Doctor Lewis?”

“I’d like to be considered”

“Considered for…” he says without look up.

“The position of Head of Trauma”

Now, that makes Fury pay attention. He smiles, removing his glases.

“I thought you wanted Y/N to come back to her old job”

“Well, she’s taking her sweet time and I don’t want anyone else running the ER. So, I’m your girl”.

“I still have to interview you” he says, pulling out Darcy’s file and reading it. “Darcy N. Lewis. What does the N stand for?”

“None of your business” Darcy snaps, forgetting she’s talking to her boss until Fury levels her with a glare. “Nora”

“Alright. Let’s start, shall we?”

—

Melina’s reviewing schedules when she hears a knock on the door.

“Ah, just who I wanted to see” she says when you walk inside.

“Have I done something?”

“Well, we have a pending discussion about your time with us, don’t we?” the woman says, and you appreciate how she goes straight to business.

“I am leaving after the three months we agreed on” you admit, sitting down in front of her.

“I assumed as much, seeing your girlfriend around these past few weeks”

“I’m sorry, I know you wanted it to not work out” you tease, and Melina huffs, offended.

“I’m not some kind of monster! If you’re happy, I am glad to hear it. I just know it’s gonna be incredibly difficult to find someone who can…”

You interrupt her rant by pushing Sharon’s CV in front of her. She skims through it, raising her eyebrows.

“She worked for the World Health Organization?”

“Mhm. Top of her class, outstanding in every way. She also brings a large network and a lot of prestige”

Needless to say, those are things Melina loves. You’re sure she’d be willing to throw another gala just to show off Sharon.

“We’d have to do a trial, show her around…”

“Already arranged it” you say, smiling. Melina keeps reading the file and you know she doesn’t need any more convincing, so you take your cue to leave. But there’s something more you wanna say, as you stand by the door. “Hey. Thank you for taking me in. You gave me a place to stay and a job when I was completely broken. I can’t imagine what I would have done without your help”

“Just make sure… she’s worth it all. That she values you as much as you do her, Y/N. This is your career, and a big sacrifice at that” the brunette says, her tone softer.

“You’re right. Thank you” you leave with a smile.

—

It feels like everyone decided to fly today. The airport is crowded, you can barely find room to walk and you know Wanda must be struggling with her bag and the two kids who are running around everywhere.

“God damn it” you sigh, hoping they’re managing through the sea of people.

You hear them before seeing them.

“Y/N!” Tommy screams. You don’t realise where he’s coming from until he crashes against your back, jumping as he hugs you.

“Hey, kiddo!” you try to turn around, only to see Billy sprinting at full speed. “Oh, oh”

He gives the final push that knocks you down, and you shriek as they climb on top of you.

“Boys! Honestly, what has gotten into you?” Wanda comes to the rescue a second later. “You ok?”

“Come here, you two” you sit up, hugging them. “Missed you like crazy”

“And what about me?” Wanda pouts. You laugh, standing up and kissing her.

“Of course I missed you too, beautiful”

Right on cue, they both groan and complain as Wanda kisses you back.

“I didn’t miss that” Tommy sasses you and you glare.

“In that case…” you grab Wanda by the waist, pulling her against you and peppering kisses all over her face.

“Baby” she laughs, and you silence her a second later with your lips.

“Blegh” they both say, grabbing their backpacks.

“Are they teens now?” you mumble against Wanda’s ear.

“No, teenage years will be much worse than this. Are you still up for it?”

“In it for the long run, baby”

Wanda has to go straight to a work meeting, but you stop by a second to greet Wendy, and make sure she gets a chance to meet the twins.

“I’ve heard so much about you!” the woman says.

“Tell Wendy what was your favorite story of hers growing up”

“Uh, the one where the kids go to space” Billy says shyly.

“And they take their dog! We have a dog too and we’d take him to space with us” Tommy agrees.

“Alright, astroboys, let them work. We’re going to a baseball game”

“Oh, no! I’m sad I’ll miss it. Have fun” Wanda lies.

You knew she’d be bored out of her mind so you decided it was as good a time as any to take them to the game.

“Yeah, those are so much fun” you say, knowing baseball is incredibly boring for you too. As Wanda says goodbye you pull her close and whisper in her ear. “I’m taking one for the team so be prepared to thank me later, babe”

“Stop” she tries not to laugh, knowing exactly what you mean. “And don’t eat a lot of junk food”

“You heard your mom”

“I wasn’t talking only to the kids”

“Rude”

As you expected, you still have no clue what’s going on but the kids enjoy eating nachos and watching men running around after a ball.

“Wow, Camarena is about to bat!”

“Oh, I met that guy in New York” you say, remembering how Zach was so excited about that player.

You really need to plan something in the summer for him to meet the twins.

As Camarena prepares to bat, you decide to FaceTime Zach.

“Where are yooou?” he says, annoyingly close to the screen. “Without me? Traitor”

“Who’s that?” Tommy says, looking away from the game for a split second.

“My brother”

“Hi, I’m uncle Zach”

“You can’t be our uncle. You’re too young” Billy huffs.

You’re about to tell them to settle when you hear the familiar sound of people cheering and shouting.

“Ah, shit. Not again”

Another ball falls right on your hand.

Tommy takes your phone, lifting it in the air and dancing with his brother as the camera pans to you.

Honestly, why are people so happy over catching a freakin ball?

Pretty soon you hope there’s another coming your way and knocks you down, because Zach is arguing over the phone with the boys.

“We should totally keep it!”

“Are you insane? If he asks for it you can get a picture with him and get him to sign stuff, that’s worth more!”

“It wouldn’t be the same”

Anyway, as the game ends you get called just like last time.

“You again?” the team manager recognises you and you shrug your shoulders.

“Hey, I’m just as surprised as you”

“Alright, how about a picture and a signed bat in exchange for the ball?”

You shake your head no and point at the kids.

“You’re asking the wrong person, pal. Negotiate with these two”

Why are you even surprised when they get all demanding? They are Wanda’s kids after all.

In the end, they get one picture each, two signed baseball balls, one of his hats and a glove.

“Come on, your mom’s waiting for us at the hotel. You two need to shower so we can grab some food”

“No shower when we’re on vacation!” they chant as you drive back.

“Nu-uh, you’re both stinky. Plus you hugged that stinky man”

“Can we have burgers and milkshakes?”

“You had nachos and popcorn and soda. Oh, by the way” you turn to look at them at the red light. “If your mother asks you didn’t eat all that. Just some popcorn”

“We can agree if we don’t have to shower”

“Shower and I’ll take you to the F1 arcade”

Billy and Tommy whisper in the back of the car, considering your proposal.

“Deal”

“Fist bump” you say, throwing one hand to the back seat so they can seal the deal.

You definitely missed acting like a kid with them.

—

Wanda was right. You’d never say it out loud because you don’t want her to get all cocky.

But the kids have been hyper ever since they arrived and you’re a little out of practice with taking care of them.

It’s day two and you’re hoping the museum can provide some distraction while you chill with Wanda.

“You ok, detka? Seems like you ran a marathon” Wanda comments with a smirk.

“I’m super fine. Just ate a lot for breakfast” you lie, but still keep her close to your side, hoping you can sit down and watch the kids run around.

And for a little while, everything’s going well. Until you stumble upon an exhibition.

“Hall of Human Life” you read out loud.

It’s like Disneyland for doctors.

“That’s so cool!” you say, watching the model of an artery with high blood pressure. Tommy and Billy pick up on your enthusiasm, following you everywhere and asking questions as they go through every station of the exhibit.

Apparently, there’s a little contest at the end and you join a group of children sitting on the floor.

“Alright” the staff woman says, looking around. “Who can tell me how many bones are in the human body?”

“206!” you shout from the back, making every kid turn to look at you.

“Correct… uh, let’s just raise our hands to answer” the woman asks, thrown off by the sight of an adult in a children’s activity. “Does anyone remember three parts of the eye? Anyone?”

You’re the only one raising your hand, and the woman gives up with a sigh.

“Sclera, iris and retina”

It keeps happening with a couple of questions and Wanda is torn between letting you crash the activity or ask you to join her in the back.

As you get ready to argue with a 12 year old over an incorrect answer, Wanda decides you better get going.

“Come here, baby”

“Ok, what you said is incorrect. 1 in 500 people have a cervical rib” you keep arguing with the kid while Wanda drags you away.

“Here” she pushes you to the back of an exhibit.

“Hey, I was just…”

“We should let the kids enjoy themselves for a bit, don’t you think?” she asks and you’re about to argue when her lips are on yours.

“Yeah, that’s alright I guess” you sigh, a shiver running down your spine when Wanda bites your bottom lip.

“So, wanna discuss anatomy with a kid or show me what you know in this little corner?”

“I’m definitely staying here” you say, making out like teenagers.

You only notice the activity is over when the kids come looking for you.

“Gross” Tommy says.

“Hey, keep that up and we’ll go through the baby section again”

“Nooo” they both run away, traumatized by the drawings.

“How I missed babysitting the three of you” Wanda laughs.

You walk down the rest of the museum, commenting on your favorite thing in each area. As you discuss if they want to go to the aquarium after having some food, Wanda decides to get some souvenirs from the gift shop, Tommy tagging along in hopes of getting a t-shirt.

“You don’t want a t-shirt, beautiful boy?” you ask Billy, and he smiles when you call him that. It’s his favorite thing, from that John Lennon song.

“I don’t want you to be alone”

“I’ll be fine. Go with Mom, help her shop for something for Pietro and Grandma”

“It’s ok” he insists. You hug him and he leans on your side.

“How have you been? Heard you’re not really into soccer these days”

“No, I only went because Tommy liked it. But it’s not my favorite thing. Plus Daniel was being kind of mean” he mutters.

“Isn’t he Dick’s… I mean, Richard’s kid?” you stumble over the nickname.

“Yeah. He was saying that it wasn’t right that mom was with you and that was why I was weird too”

You take a deep breath, turning to look at him.

“You know that’s not right”

“Yeah. Tommy kicked his ass for that. Don’t tell mom I said a bad word” he remembers and his expression makes you forget the anger for a second.

“My lips are sealed”

In that precise moment, Wanda and Tommy come back. Tommy has some dinosaur stuff that he bought for his brother and they’re busy checking everything out.

“Wow, what’s going on?” Wanda says when you pull her aside.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whisper, shaking with anger.

“Tell you what? Y/N, calm down”

“I’m going to kill him”

“Kill who?”

“Dick, Richard, whatever his name is. He hurt Billy and I’m going to…”

“I already dealt with it, please calm down” Wanda asks.

“Unless you ran him over with your car, it’s not enough”

“I did threaten him with that” she says, which makes you laugh. “I’m serious. I did tell him I’d do it”

Wanda puts her hands on your cheeks, forcing you to look at her.

“Are you better now?”

“Yeah. You should have told…”

“I wanted to but you weren’t there. So I had to deal with it the best I could” she says and you hang your head in defeat.

You hope one day the guilt of leaving like a coward can disappear.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I pushed you away, remember? Let’s just get something to eat. Ok?”

“Ok” you kiss the back of her hand, sighing.

“Look what we got you!” Tommy interrupts, unaware of the tension between you and her mom.

He shows you a plastic dinosaur with a cowboy hat and you scream.

“Coolest thing ever!”

“Three kids” Wanda laughs, walking away as you alternate between rawr and yeehaw sounds, holding the dinosaur up in the air.

—

The kids wouldn’t get on the plane until you showed them your ticket to Westview. Even then, they complained that two weeks was a long wait.

But still, they got on the plane and you were seeing Wanda next Thursday, as it was her final meeting with Wendy’s team.

“Love you two”

“Love you three” they answered and how you missed hearing those words from them.

Everything is still the same when you go back to work. But the kids visit has made you look at things differently.

You don’t feel so alone, and you’re more optimistic about the future. Even Lorne has noticed and is taking full advantage of your mood.

Yelena’s the one with the attitude as soon as you come back.

“Anything interesting happened this weekend?”

“Ask your friend” she says without looking up from her notes.

“What did you think of Sharon?”

“She’s fine. Whatever”

“Fine as in attractive or fine as in capable? I hope it’s the latter because Bishop won’t be happy about the other one…”

“Can you stop being so fucking annoying for a second?” she snaps, standing up to leave.

It’s like that the entire day. You ask her to do something and she complains, speaks through her teeth or simply refuses to acknowledge you.

The only thing you can think to do of is bitch about it to Natasha.

“Is your sister in her late teenage years or some shit?”

“She’s just pissed because you’re leaving” Natasha doesn’t look up either, well aware of Yelena’s behavior.

“Well, she knew I was leaving after three months! That’s hardly a shock”

“You were the one that said you’d never move to Boston and here you are” she levels you with an icy glare. “You can’t really blame her for hoping you’d stick around longer than three months”

“I guess, but still. It’s nothing personal”

“She gets attached easily. Ask mom how many strays she picked on the street”

“So now I’m a dog?” you say, and Natasha smiles.

“Yeah, like a retriever. You’re always goofy. Plus you catch all those balls like it’s second nature”

“Heard about the other game, huh?”

“I’m not going to assume what Yelena thinks or feels, but you should definitely talk to her” Natasha looks at you. “And for what is worth, you’ve made a good impact on the staff. They’re gonna miss you too”

“Are you?” you say when she stands up to leave.

“Nope. I’m taking your parking spot”

“Hey!”

She looks back and smiles. You return the gesture, knowing what she’s trying to say.

“It’s a nice parking spot” you admit. “Closer to the cafeteria”

“Exactly. See you later”

“Thanks. For helping me out with Yelena. And for wanting to be my friend even though I can be an ass” you say.

“You’re a nice ass. Wait, that came out wrong” she frowns and you laugh.

“I got the point”

Natasha smiles and nods your way one last time. And as far as you’re concerned, you’d really want to keep avoiding Yelena, but you better go and find her.

She’s in an on call room, and all but groans when you walk inside.

“I’m leaving in two weeks. Believe or not, it’s not easy for me to make this choice, Yelena. I know staying would be better for my career. Your mom is paying me shitloads of money. And the city has its charm, I’m not gonna lie”

“Ok, is there a point or…?”

“I’m coming back to Westview because… I found the one thing I never thought I’d have. A family that loves me. After my dad passed away I didn’t really have a place to call home. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here at all, because it was unfair to create an expectation. But I won’t lie and say I regret it. You’ve grown so much and you have so much talent. I’m really fucking proud of being your teacher”

Yelena looks away, and you sigh.

“Anyways, better get back to…”

“Thank you. Even if it was for a short time, I’m happy you were my teacher” she finally says, wiping a tear and smiling at you.

“Thanks, kid. We are a good team” you sit next to her, nudging her knee with yours. “One could even say we trauma bonded, huh?”

“I hate you”

—

The last thing you want to hear after a very bad shift is Lorne’s voice proposing to play a game.

“I just feel like I never got to know you!” he insists.

“Walking in on me changing clothes wasn’t enough for you? Glad you’re knocking after that, by the way”

To be honest, it was fun to watch him shriek as he saw you half naked. And how he volunteered to take the sexual harrassment course even though it was pretty obvious he didn’t mean to be a peeping tom.

“No, I mean things like, your favorite cake flavor, or favorite color. And are you a balloon girl? Or more of a glitter gal?”

“Neither. I don’t want a farewell party” you say, knowing exactly what he’s doing.

It’s stupid to throw a party to someone who’s been part of the staff for only three months. And from day one, everyone knew you weren’t staying.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” he plays dumb and you chuckle, signing forms while you check your watch.

You better get going if you want to pick up Wanda from her meeting.

“Mhm. No parties. Seriously” you hand over the charts, glaring at him.

He nods, but you don’t really believe he’ll give up. If Yelena sides with him, you’ll have to accept your fate.

“Ready to go?” Sharon says, greeting you at the hallway.

She’s been picking up some shifts, to see if she likes the job. Melina made her an offer as soon as she sat down for the interview and you’re convinced the only reason she hasn’t let you leave early is because Yelena would throw a tantrum.

“Yeah, I have to pick up Wanda. How’s everything? You like it here?”

“Very much, everyone’s nice. The facilities are amazing and it’s a very interesting challenge. Don’t tell anyone yet, but I’m accepting the job offer”

“Congratulations. They’re very lucky to have you” you say, smiling.

“Thank you, for recommending me. I’ll let you go now” she says when she gets paged.

By the time you reach the address Wanda sent out, she’s wrapping up the meeting.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt, I’m sorry” you say as you walk in on people chatting around the conference room.

“Not at all, please come in” Wendy says.

“Hello, darling” Wanda greets you with a kiss on the cheek. “We were only talking about tonight. There’s this party with some editors”

“Oh, that sounds nice” you try not to sound disappointed, because you were hoping to spend the evening with Wanda.

“Sorry for the short notice but you’re going to be my plus one” Wanda puts her arm around your waist and you relax against her.

“Can’t say no to my girl”

As you’re saying goodbye, Wendy’s assistant stops by. There’s a wave of excitement as soon as Lily shows off the baby.

“I thought it was a boy” Wanda says, approaching her.

“We did too. Apparently our doctor’s stupid. No offense, Y/N”

“Hey, I just rode in the ambulance. But congrats. What’s her name?”

“Marygold”

“I love that name” Wanda and you say at the same time.

Lily hands over the baby to Wanda, and as she cooes at the little girl, you look over her shoulder, your hand on Wanda’s waist.

“She’s such a cutie”

“You both look good with a baby” Wendy jokes and you smile.

“Babe, they’re conspiring to get us pregnant”

Wanda tries to laugh at your joke, but your closeness is distracting. She wants to focus on Marygold but gives up a moment later, and you intercept the baby before she returns to her mother’s arms.

“You’re gonna have to teach me that move” Lily comments when you sway her gently and lull her back to sleep.

“Natural talent, I’m afraid” you joke.

You’re so focused on the baby that you don’t notice Wanda’s intense gaze on you.

Of course, someone else takes Marygold and you leave with Wanda.

“So, work thing, huh? Sounds fun. Is it more business, casual?”

“Just a small dinner, nothing fancy. And we definitely don’t have to stay for long” she says, looking out the window.

“You ok?” you ask after a few moments of silence, placing your hand on her thigh.

“Yeah” Wanda turns to smile at you.

You miss the way she shivers when you squeeze her thigh, and Wanda’s sure you’re keeping your hand there in an innocent gesture.

But seeing you holding a baby, with your strong arms (that are a lot more buff now) practically made her ovulate on the spot.

She has to be extremely patient, but once you’re in your building and the elevator’s doors close, Wanda corners you, her pupils dilated.

“Wanda?” you say, completely blindsided by the way she has you against the metal walls.

“I want you… fuck. I want you to put a baby in me”

Your attention is split between her words and the fact she’s unbotting her blouse in the middle of the elevator.

“I, technically… biologically, I mean�� you stutter as she reveals a black lace bra.

“You’re not even gonna try?” she taunts, undoing your pants and sinking her hand to play with your clit through your underwear.

“Fuck, not what I meant, bunny” you mutter against her temple, while she edges you. “Can you behave until we get there?”

“No” she says against your lips, swallowing your moans.

The doors open into the Penthouse and you’re about to carry Wanda to the bedroom when she pushes you away.

“Why?”

“Give me five minutes to change”

“You don’t need to change, you’re gonna be naked” you whine, taking a look at her cleavage.

“So you don’t wanna see the entire thing? It has stockings. And a thong”

“Can I rip it off of you?”

“No. They were very expensive”

“I’ll reimburse you” you insist. She laughs and you pout, but let her walk to the room, with an extra sway to her hips just to tease you.

You pace around the kitchen, like a caged animal. To be fair, last time Wanda was here you didn’t have a chance to be alone.

That makes you remember the thing you bought and stored inside the safe, just to make sure no one would find it. If Wanda wants to play dirty, you should surprise her as well.

While you adjust the new toy, the bedroom door opens and you practically sprint inside.

“Oh, my”

Wanda’s sitting in bed, her hair down. You take it all in, starting from the heels she’s still wearing, to her beautiful slender legs, the stockings held by a suspender belt.

You kneel at the foot of the bed, and she’s happy to make room for you between her legs.

“No ripping” she warns you as a hand reaches for her thighs.

“I’m not…”

“I’m serious” she says, gripping your chin between her fingers. “Say you understand”

“I understand”

“Good girl”

“You know, you should be the one begging” you say, your hands going up and down her calves while you kiss the exposed skin. “Weren’t saying you wanted me to get you nice and pregnant?”

“It doesn’t hurt to remind you I call the shots”

“Do you, now?” you smile up at her and Wanda holds her breath. She understands a second too late, that you have something of your own to tease her with.

With a chuckle, you push her thong aside and dart your tongue out, tasting her. You both moan and she places her hand in your head, pulling you closer.

You can tell she’s close when you feel her movig her hips against your mouth, so you slow down, until she’s whining.

“I didn’t say you could stop” she says.

“You better watch your tone or I’ll fuck the attitude out of you, baby” you stand up, puling your shirt up. Wanda’s hands go down your abs, which is amusing. Ever since you got back together, it hasn’t been lost on you how she eyes them and tries to get little peaks when your shirt rides up.

“Did you get a new…?” she says when her hand goes lower, feeling the strap on that you’re packing.

“See? I am putting a baby in you” you smile, pushing your thumb past her lips.

Wanda pulls your pants down, and takes the plastic cock between her hands. It takes you by surprise when she spits on it and then smears her saliva all over it. Before you can do anything else, her mouth is on it, and the pressure goes directly to your clit.

“Come on, let me fuck you” you plead, though you’re on the edge.

“Good old missionary?” Wanda pulls you down with her, your lips meeting in a messy kiss.

“God, yes, I want to hear your pretty moans” you say, lining up the toy against her cunt, and you find no resistance as you slide inside.

“Fuck, yes” Wanda moans, holding the back of your neck. You thrust harder when you feel her heels digging on your back, and she’s everywhere. Her scent is invading your nose, you feel her hot breath against your ear and her moans are all you can hear as you keep fucking her, losing control until she practically screams your name.

“Fuck, that was good” she says, as you keep moving your hips, waiting for her breathing to slow down. “I need a minute”

“Ok, I’ll just stay inside and focus on these two” you say, pulling the bra down and sucking on one of her nipples.

Wanda’s protests die down in her throat as you move to the other nipple, readjusting so you’re buried deeper inside.

She pushes you and you’re about to complain when she flips you over, straddling your lap.

“Alright then. Round two”

“Bring it, Maximoff”

—

It’s a miracle you leave the penthouse at all. Between having sex on every surface, eating and sleeping, it’s time to leave for Wanda’s work dinner.

“You look very fuckable, baby” you compliment her mini skirt, knee high boots and long sleeved sweater.

“Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all day?”

“I mean, I could picture pulling that skirt up and just fucking you against a wall” you say, laughing when she puts her head against the headrest.

“Lets forget about this work thing and go back to bed, please?”

“That’s not very professional of you”

“I know. But you’re not playing fair”

“It will be worth the wait, I promise”

Wanda gets out of the car as you talk to the valet. She walks inside, saying hello to a few people and picking up a glass of wine. She’s about to greet Wendy when a man gets in her way. It’s one of the assistant editors, though she can’t even remember his name.

“Hey, Wanda. Glad to see you made it”

“Yeah, of course. I wouldn’t miss it for the world” she says, though she would absolutely miss it for more hours of hot sex with you.

“I didn’t bring anyone either, so maybe we could be each other’s date?” he jokes, but Wanda doesn’t smile at that.

“Actually, I…” she tries to say but he completely ignores her.

“As a matter of fact, I regret not doing this sooner, but I wanted to ask you out. And I know this is your last trip to Boston but I was hoping we could…”

You walk in that precise moment, smiling at Wanda.

“Hi there, sorry. Had to make sure they knew how to park the Corvette. I’ll have what she’s having” you turn to the man, who shifts on his feet, clearly uncomfortable.

“Not a waiter. I’m an assistant editor. Working on Wendy’s book. I’m sorry, I didn’t know Wanda was bringing a friend”

“I didn’t know either. Who did you invite, baby?” you play dumb, knowing exactly what was going on.

“No one, my love. This is my girlfriend, Y/N” Wanda leans against you.

“Doctor Y/L/N” you correct her before he can introduce himself. You don’t want to be on a first name basis with this asshole.

“My name’s Bobby. So, what kind of doctor? Eye stuff?”

“Trauma. ER stuff”

“Drunk people and broken bones?” he tries to joke.

“No, more like stab wounds. You’d be surprised how much damage you can do with the tiniest thing” you comment, picking up a tiny fork with a bored expression. “I mean, just the right spot and your entire carotid blows up. Gone in three seconds”

“Oh, darling, not everyone gets your medical humor” Wanda laughs a little too loud, pulling you away. “Anyways, nice talking to you, Bobby”

Bitch ass Bobby.

“Shut up” Wanda nudges your side, but she’s laughing too.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Yes” she smiles when you pull her close.

“Didn’t like the way he was staring. I mean, you are beautiful and everyone should acknowledge it. But he looked like he thought he had a chance”

“Nothing could be further from the truth”

“Between this and tiny Dick back in Westview I’m thinking I should put a ring on it before they cause any more trouble” you laugh, kissing her temple.

It’s a joke and Wanda can tell, because immediately after speaking you’re gulfing down entrees and talking about your plans for tomorrow, but she still thinks about the ring she found and how it’s been sitting on a box for three months now.

“Everything ok, babe?”

“Yeah, just tired” she says, and it’s not exactly a lie, not after four hours worth of cardio.

“We can relax tomorrow. I’ll cook for you” you promise.

Wendy and other people approach you and you’re charming them in no time. It’s very amusing to learn they all heard the story of Lily’s baby and how you walked in to save the day.

Speaking of which, at some point during the evening, someone calls for a doctor.

“Huh” you comment when you spot Bobby coughing, something clearly stuck on his throat.

“Go” Wanda pushes you, but you lean against the bar, sipping on your drink.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. He has one more minute before it gets dangerous”

But at Wanda’s insistence, you sigh and put your glass down, walking towards the man.

“Alright, here we go” you say, doing the good old Heimlich maneuver on him. Though your grip might be a little too strong as you squeeze his mid section.

Something comes flying out of his mouth and you put him down, looking bored.

“See? He’s fine” you say when you return to sit next to Wanda. He looks anything but, shaking and losening his tie. “I mean, he’s not dying”

Wanda rolls her eyes, but kisses your cheek. You spend the rest of the evening glued to her side, hands wandering down her back and gripping her waist. It’s like you’re addicted to feeling Wanda’s body against yours.

“You’re making it really hard to focus” she teases when you’re finally alone.

“I’m sorry, I guess I’m gonna miss you. I know I’m going back to Westview next week but I…”

“What?”

“It’s nothing” you look away, sighing.

“Detka”

But Wendy takes Wanda to meet some people, and you stay at the bar, looking around the room. When Wanda finally comes back, she can tell you’re tired and she says goodbye to everyone.

“Lets walk for a bit” she asks, taking your hand and pulling you towards a park. You nod and follow her, still thinking about everything you’re feeling.

Your thougts are interrupted by a street musician, singing a song you’re not familiar with.

“I know this one” Wanda says, reading your expression. “Reflecting light”

“It’s really beautiful”

“Come on” she offers her other hand, and you smile, your hands on her waist as she rests her head on your shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” she finally asks and you laugh.

“What makes you think something’s wrong?”

“I know you”

“I just…” you sigh, looking at her. “I’m going back to Westview and I have to undo the mess I left at the hospital. The city will be the same, but I’m not the same anymore… and I don’t know, I’m scared that everything will just feel wrong, or I’ll screw up”

“Sweetheart” Wanda interrupts your rambling. “I don’t think either one of us is the same. But that’s a good thing. It means we learned from our mistakes and we’re stronger. It’s gonna be alright”

“You promise?”

“I can promise you this. I’m here for better and worse”

"Sickness and health?” you joke, but your heart beats faster when Wanda looks into your eyes, nodding slowly.

“Yes, my love. Through all of that” she promises, kissing you softly.

As you sway to the soft music, you both think about the future together.

It’s looking good as long as you have each other.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n

237 notes · View notes

lottie-loves-you · 8 hours ago

Text

This goes for every fandom and there are real reasons it's unacceptable. Ai image generators steal from artists to create those images. They also discourage artists from posting because we don't want our stuff stolen, destroy beginner artists from learning because"what's the point if ai can do it better", and add to the destruction of fandom culture. You appreciate your real artists a lot less when you devalue their work with ai. If you want something specific, learn to draw, commission someone, or find someone with requests open.

Ai text generators scrape fic sites so they are stealing from fic authors. That goes for Ai chat bots too. All the things I said about visual arts apply to writing as well but on top of that, especially in big fandoms, it's so painfully pointless. That specific thing y wanted the characters to do probably already exists in a fic if you look hard enough, you're just lazy and don't want to look. If it doesn't exist, write it yourself or commission someone to write it. Fic writers often stop posting due to lack of engagement so go find that specific fix you've been looking for and leave a really nice comment. If you're lucky, you might even encourage the author to write more like it. As for the ai chat bots, they contribute to the death of fandom culture. There are lots of other little weirdos(/pos) who want to rp the same stuff you do. Go find them and rp together. Is doing rp with another real person awkward sometimes? Maybe. Might it take longer than an ai that responds instantly? Yeah. So? You're building a real connection with a real other person instead of wasting your time talking to an ai that can't care about you or feel. The feeling of having another person that you're creating a brain child story with is something ai simply can't replicate because there is no other person on the other side and if you're like me and can't write with another person because they don't take it as seriously as you (yeah, I know. I'm so fun to be around but like… taking it too seriously is fun for me.) or you can't agree on ploy direction, maybe rp isn't for you and you should write fanfiction instead. If you don't like rp and decide to write alone instead, you can still have that community by asking moots to beta read for you. Either way, none of that connection happens when you use ai.

I actually think Ai audios are the most egregious. Often they are sexual and that is absolutely a violation of the actor/VAs who did not consent to their voices being used that way. Even when it's not sexualized, their voices are a large part of actor's jobs and VA's entire jobs so if you are stealing that from them, you're a fucking monster. If you're too embarrassed to do your own impressions of the characters saying whatever you want them to say, you shouldn't be posting it. Yes, this one is my most hard line, no nuance take. How would you feel if people were posting audio porn of your voice that you didn't make or consent to being made? Not good? Oh, great. If you can't see the problem with this one, kindly delete all your socials and never engage in any fandom or media again. There's no excuse for any ai use but especially this one. That's a real person's real voice.

I'm not sorry for any of these takes and I will call you disgusting, cowardly, and trash for using ai when you damn well know better. I call ai posting "littering" for a reason. Please openly shame ai usage.

like i'm sorry but we as a fandom have to stay firm on our anti-AI values. we cannot suddenly start giving AI a pass when it's something we "want to see" like destiel kisses. it's not suddenly fine. we're not going to start using AI to make fanfic scenes come to life or audio AI to make characters "say" stuff we want to hear. you have GOT to be firm on your anti-AI stance. if you start making exceptions then suddenly anything will fly. fandom is for real art and creations made by real people. no AI fanfics. no AI art. no AI rendered "bonus" scenes. no AI audio. none of it has a place here.

#fuck ai #fandom #anti ai #fandom culture

73K notes · View notes

count-on-mi · 2 days ago

Text

Twice Interactive Story Part 17 Protect You (Mina, Feat. Sana, Dahyun)

You slowly fall asleep when you are thinking about Nayeon, Jihyo, and Momo.

When you wake up again, you see Mina is making the alarm for you as usual. It's a new week already, you gonna back to work.

"Thank you Mina." I caress her cheek, and let her continue.

'Morning boss.' Mina smiles at your compliments and continues her work.

You put your hands on her head, slowly guiding her movements. Mina is now licking the rod.

'Are you feeling better at the weekend, boss? I was so worried last time.'

"I'm feeling better Mina. You might want to hurry Mina, we need to get to work."

'Minari is glad that boss feel better, Minari will hurry up.' Mina focus back on your tips, she licks it a while and start swallow your whole cock again.

'OH, Mina, you always do a great job, I am happy to have you as my secretary.' You moan Mina's name due to the pleasure.

'Thanks for the reward, boss. Minari will try to make boss cum sooner next time.' Mina swallows all of your cum and helps you to wear the clothes.

Jihyo and Dahuyn still haven't wake up, so you two leave after breakfast directly. You Starr at Jihyo's room before you leave, and it is noticed by Mina.

'Still fascinating about Miss Jihyo's tits, boss?' Mina caresses your cock when she gets on the car.

"That’s not it Mina. Let's just make sure we're ready for the day." I say as I drive to work.

'Boss, I see the way you look at Miss Jihyo's room, you want more than her tits I can tell.' Your cock is hard again by Mina's touching, she frees it from your pants and start jerking you off.

'Boss, please don't tell to Minari, I can see you are telling lies, Minari wants to help boss, for everything.'

"You can help me in the office Minari, I need to relieve some stress. You'll be getting a lot more than breakfast. So just hold on."

'I'm hungry now, Boss.' Mina bends down and start sucking you while you are driving.

'Miss Sana must want to share boss with Minari when we back to the office, Minari wants some private time with boss.'

'If Boss doesn't want Miss Jihyo's tits, maybe boss can play with Minari's.' Mina unbutton her shirts and show you her tiny tits.

"Mina, I can't drive and play with you at the same time. Let me find us somewhere quiet."

Mina gives you a thumbs up but doesn't stop her mouth, still sucking your cock. Worrying you may crush the car, you just park at a secret place that no one will disturb you.

You adjust your seat and enjoying Mina's blowjob, which you use one of your hands to play with her tits.

'So horny today, Mina?'

'Minari is always horny for boss.'

“Maybe we should spend a day making sure you get all the cum you could ever want." I say as I push Mina's head down. "You're so good to me Mina, I love you."

Mina does not resist, she allows you to push her head deeply to your base. Mina starts choking as you reach her deep throat, but she signals you she is all good and tell you to keep going.

'OH, Mina, such a nice mouth...' You raise your head as the sensation is too much.

As my left hand moves her head my right plays with her nipples, flicking and pulling them.

Mina is more excited as you tease her nipple, she moans even with a dick in her mouth. 'Umm...ummm... ummmm!'

But maybe she is too excited, she starts choking again, she hammers your thigh, wanting you to let go.

I'll let her go and cup her cheek. "Minari is struggling today isn't she?"

'Minari has disappointed boss, sorry.' Mina looks down while she is breathing heavily.

'What does Boss want for compensation?' Mina strokes your dick and grabs your hands on tits, want to keep your excitement.

I move Mina onto my lap, "I think you know what I want Mina."

Mina shyly nods and starts riding you. 'Ah, Minari will make sure boss feels good this time.'

Mina guide your hands to her tits again. 'If you can't play Miss Jihyo's tits for now, use Minari's. Minari will help boss to get Miss Jihyo.' Mina says this before she leans her head to kiss you.

I'll push Mina down while I thrust up. "But I already have you Minari." I start fucking Mina at a good pace soon afterward, kissing her nipple and lightly biting them.

Mina pushes your head toward her chest, she raise her head, enjoying your gentle bite to her nipples. 'Boss, Minari really loves you.' Mina says in a light sound which you cannot hear.

Mina tenses her pussy, making it tighter and you are happier for every thrust.

I bounce Mina on my cock faster driving her toward her orgasm. "I know you want to Cum Mina. Do it."

'Ah, boss, Minari wants boss to cum with Minari.' Minar rides you faster as her orgasm is near. Mina looks right into your eye before kissing you again.

As we kiss, we both orgasm. I fill Mina's pussy with my cum. As we relax i kiss her neck. "We should hurry along now."

Mina raises her head, and let you mark hickeys on her, she just moans when you do it. 'Boss is right, maybe we should continue in office.'

Mina helps you tidy up before you restart the driving, she slowly caressing her belly, feeling your cum inside.

Once we arrive to the office I send Mina in first and wait for a couple of minutes before walking in.

Mina kisses you before she leaves the car. 'See you later, boss.' You wait a couple minutes before going up.

'Having a nice weekend with Mina, boss?' Sana smirks at you when you walk past her seat. 'I wanna join too.'

"Why don't we spend a day at your place instead?" I whisper back before continuing to my office.

'I did send you the invitation, but you reject it.' Sana slap your ass before you go. 'I will find you later, boss.'

You return to your room and see Mina is tiding your desk.

I come up behind Mina, my hands grabbing her tits. "Why are you cleaning my desk little Minari? You know we're just going to make a mess again." I start kissing the back of her neck, and start undoing her shirt.

Mina relax and let you take the initiative, 'Boss, Minari haven't finished yet, can you wait a while?'

But Mina's hands do not stop, it going down and jerks your dick without removing your trousers, soon your have a bulge.

I start tugging at her skirt. "I want to fill you up with more cum Mina, don't you want that too?"

Mina helps you to remove her skirt and panties, she is now fully naked and she put her upper body on the table.

Mina spilled her cilt for you, the cum is slowly dripping out, she gets some of it and tastes it. 'Boss, Minari needs more.'

I waste no time and thrust into Mina. "I'll make sure to give you all the cum you want Mina." I caress her ass as I thrust quickly.

You take Mina from behind and your desk soon becomes messy again. 'Boss, Minari will clean it again, later, ah.'

Mina use one of her hands to grab the table, making sure she is balanced; her another hand goes backwards, pushing you to thrust faster. 'Minari like this so much, boss.'

"I like it too Mina." My cock has become slick with her juices as I continue thrusting into her. It's allowing me to thrust faster and harder, and I give Mina all that I can. I even spank her ass until it becomes a deep red.

Mina moans as you spank her, she grind her ass with you, increasing the friction you thrust in everytime, her pussy is becoming tighter, she is going to cum.

'Boss, Minari is cumming, faster please!' Mina's hand is pushing your hip faster, her ass also moving backwards at the same time.

I follow her orders thrusting faster, "Let's cum together Mina. I'm going to cum inside."

'Um, um, ahh...' Mina stops her moan when she reaches her peaks, you shoot the third time of today in her, Mina's body jerks when you cum in her.

You move to your chair without pulling out, Mina sits on your lap. You slowly wipe the sweat on her forehead, admiring her beautiful side profile.

I pinch her nipples and kiss her neck, "You're one of the most beautiful women in the world Mina. Can you keep going?"

'Only one of them?' Mina pours her face, also raising her head and pushing you harder to her neck.

'Minari always ready for boss, just tell me what you want, tell me what you need, ahhh... Minari will be there for you.' Mina's breathe go heavier as you are pinching her nipple.

I bounce her softly on my cock for a few seconds while I think. "Then how about we have some fun with your ass Mina?"

Mina shyly nods and rides you one more time before she eventually stands up. Mina strokes your dick a few times before sitting back, this time aiming her asshole, slowly putting it in.

'Ah... it's tearing me apart.' Although your cock is lubricated by Mina's sauce, Mina's ass is too tight, she is slowly adopting it.

Meanwhile you hear someone knocking on the door.

'It must be Sana.' You say to Mina

'Miss Sana could wait, boss.' Mina caresses your cheek. 'Enjoy Minari's ass first.'

"Mina what if it’s someone else? We should be careful."

'OK...' Mina is unwilling to let you go, but she obeys your order. She gets up and allows you to answer the door.

You wear back your trousers and walk to the door. It's Dahyun knocking at the door. 'Surprise? Oppa. Can I come in?'

"Not now, Mina is still helping me clean the room up Dahyun" I say through the door while looking at Mina to silently tell her to get dressed. I quickly open the door slightly and and step out, closing the door behind me. "What's with the sudden visit?"

'You know I am finding jobs right oppa? I come for interview today, haha.' You only notice that Dahyun is wearing suit today.

'Can oppa show me where I should go?' She hands you her phone and shows the address of the venue. It's no good, it seems the interviewer is Tzuyu's boss.

"How about you work for me? I could help arrange something, this position you're applying for is with someone I don't want you around. Please Dahyun let me do this for you."

'Come on, Oppa. I am not children anymore, I have my own route to go, and I can't always rely on you, right? I will find the way myself, see you later, Oppa.' Dahyun takes back her phone and turns around to leave.

I grab her arm "Dahyun please, he's the type to harass the women under him. I don't want you to deal with that. I know you're not a child anymore, but I still want to protect you. What's it going to take for me to convince you? I'll do whatever it is."

'Oppa, if you don't like your colleague you don't need to tell me his bad things, just trust Dubu, ok? I can get the job without your help, I will prove it. Oppa, you don't need to convince me, just trust me please.'

Dahyun looks at her watch, 'Not much time left, oppa. I will meet you at lunch, ok?' Dahyun then leaves before you say anything.

Mina comes out from the room when she saw Dahyun is left, 'Why your sister will come, boss? Did she notice Minari is with you, boss?'

"No, she's meeting with the old man from last time." I rush towards Sana to tell her to visit the old man's department and watch over Dahyun. I explain that Dahyun is my step sister and I don't want anything bad to happen to her. If she can do that for me I'll do what she wants for a day.

'OK, no problem, boss.' Sana stands up and is ready to go for Dahyun.

'If that old man wants to fuck me, should I accept it?' Sana looks you playfully.

"Don't you dare, but thanks Sana. I really appreciate it."

'You can check it later yourself.' Sana leaves, you return to your room and wait nervously.

'Boss, Miss Sana is smart enough to handle it, don't worry.' Mina massaging your head while you two are waiting.

"Yeah you're right, she is. I just have to wait. Why don't you get back to work for now Mina. It'll do me no good thinking about it."

'Boss, Minari don't wanna leave you alone...' Mina stands in front of you and cup you cheek. 'Minari wants to help boss.'

"I'm not in the mood to continue what we were doing. How about we go out for lunch then? We'll pick something up for Sana and Dahyun too, just in case."

'Minari just wants boss to be happy.' Mina keep holding your head and kisses you.

'I'm back, oppa... Oh, sorry for interrupting.' Dahyun standing at the door. Mina blushes and rush out of the room.

"How did it go?" I ask without missing a beat.

'So far so good everything.' Dahyun sits opposite you. 'I guess I can get the job, but someone come in during the interview, the girl tells something to the interviewer and then I was told to leave, so strange.'

'How about you, oppa? Who is that girl? Does Nayeon eooni knows?'

"You mean Mina, She's my secretary. She's been helping me deal with everything lately. Work and regular life."

'Your secretary? Would a normal guy kisses her secretary?' Dahyun is ignited by your answer.

'It all starts before you break up with Nayeon eooni?'

"After Dahyun, she confessed her love after I broke up with Nayeon. She spent the day I broke up with Nayeon watching me cry."

'You have accepted it then? Please tell me you didn't.' Dahyun low down her head and ask. 'Nayeon eooni would be sad if you move on that quick.'

'I don't want my chance leaves before I can catch it.' She whispers to herself.

"Not exactly, but we're getting there. She's probably going to ask something soon."

'Can you not accept her, at least for now, Oppa?' Dahyun raises her head, seems she has made up her mind. 'Please?'

"I suppose I can try but I can't guarantee anything. Dahyun how about we go out to dinner after work, celebrate your effort."

'Having dinner with you is good, but I am not receiving an offer yet, will the celebration be too early?' Dahyun not so sure.

Sana enters your room at the same time, 'Hello, boss.'

"Hello Sana, I haven't seen you today. Have you met my step sister Dahyun?" I say hoping that Sana catches on to the fact I want to make it seem that I had no part in her going to Dahyun's interview.

Sana knows what you mean, she pretends she knows nothing. 'Oh, you are Dahyun, such a cutie. Boss always mentioned you, Dahyun comes to cheer up your Oppa today?'

'No, I am coming for interview today.' Dahyun shyly answers.

'I am glad to hear that, hope you can work here too.' Sana pat Dahyun's shoulder, encouraging her.

'But for now, I have something need to report to Boss, would you mind come back later, Dahyun?'

"Dahyun, we'll talk later. We can get dinner, spend sometime together." I say as I usher her out of the room. "What do you have to report Sana?" I ask as I close the door and turn around.

'Of course, about your dear sister, boss.' Sana put her hands on your chest, and whispers in your ears.

'Or you wanna check have I let that old man fucked me first.'

"Tell me what happened with Dahyun, Sana. That's my priority."

'Of course, Dahyun is safe from that old man, you can see it right?' Sana sits on the sofa.

'I didn't directly involve in it, instead I have used Tzuyu, don't you remember that girl?'

"What exactly did you do?"

'We know Tzuyu has a high influence on her boss, so I make a deal with her, if Tzuyu can stop her boss to approach Dahyun, you will get her in your team, but I didn't say the time, it could be now, it could be when she graduates next year.'

'I told Tzuyu to seduce her boss, and let him know if Tzuyu is no longer the only woman in their team, he won't get anything from Tzuyu again.'

'Does Sana satisfy you, boss?'

"Well you did a good job Sana"

'But how to get Tzuyu in our team is something you should handle yourself.' Sana smirks.

'Is it time for my reward now?'

"Do you want it now? Or would you rather get a Saturday all to yourself?" I ask her as I put my hands around her ass.

Sana holds your hand to grab her ass harder, and blow hot winds in your ear. 'Why not both, boss? Do you sure you can hold on?' Sana then start kissing your neck.

"I can always hold it in, so choose wisely."

'Then maybe I should keep it for the weekend, remember what you promise me, ok?' Sana leaves a hickey before she leaves the room.

'And, don't let Mina know, Dahyun too.'

"Yeah, yeah." I start to clean things up and finish the day. I send a message to Dahyun asking where she wants to eat.

#minasaiyatis #twice smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #female idol smut #m reader #sana smut #mina smut #dahyun smut #twice sana #twice mina #twice dahyun #twice imagines

160 notes · View notes

yey56 · 2 days ago

Note

Hey I just wanted to say I really love your Harley and believe you're the only one who got his character so far.I am also in love with your y/n and how you didn't make her perfect or useless.Not to be a bother but can you show or tell us Harley and y/n's relationship after their first kiss or just any of their general interactions?Whatever suits you,thank you.

It doesn't bother me at all, thank you for asking and I so happy I got Harley right. 💖💖

HARLEY SAWYER X PSYCOLOGIST READER

AFTER KISS HEADCANNONS

The first thing you noticed was Harley's hand on your face, caressing your cheek. He was only going to quickly clean near your lip but after feeling your jaw, your face, brushing his fingers against your neck he couldn't resist to cup your cheek.

The other hand fell down to loosely grab your waist. He was getting closer and you could feel his breath on your lips. You slowly put your hands on his shoulder, testing how he would react.

"Harley" you mumbled, you lips brushing his. That was enough for him to close the gap between the two of you. Your lips moving together, not in perfectly or coordinately way, but in your own way.

You tightened your grasp in the fabric of his shoulder as he fully envolved your waist with his hand while the one that was on you face fell down to your neck where he started caressing.

Finally you both separated from the kiss, both of you agitated but still close. His hand was still on your cheek and yours still on his shoulders

You looked at him again and got close to give him another short kiss. "Do you have any appointments left for today?" Harley asked you. "Yes I do, I still have to supervise Kissy Missy, she hasn't been responding lately"

"Good, come to my office after that, we have to discuss this in depth." He let you go and while you went to the enclosure of said toy, he remained still in the corridor looking at you intensely.

HEADCANNONS After the kiss:

At first sigh, there wasn't much change, maybe the staff of the company noticed you being closer than usual.

Now, Doctor Sawyer and you were seen together very often. Maybe not all lovey dovey but together nonetheless. The caretakers saw often Dr Sawyer accompanying you when you needed to go to Home sweet Home to talk with the children.

Once Ludwig joked to Sawyer that you two seemed glued together and Harley only shrugged not denying anything.

Now that you two had already acknowledged your feelings, little things he did for you sometimes became the norm and started becoming part of your routine.

For example: When you were finishing a design late at night in his office (you often spend time together in each others offices) and he was finishing surgery reports, he would offer you the sofa to sleep in.

Once you were asleep he would raise his gaze from the papers and look at you. Some nights, he would even approach you and touch your face very lightly, not wanting to wake you up.

Quiet moments like this made him calm and let him forget, just a little, about all of the chaos and restriction that your jobs were.

In the nights that he was in your office, he would be just behind you with his hand on your shoulder, looking at you writing and archiving some documents. Caressing your shoulder, then the back of your neck and sometimes, if he was feeling kind enough, he would massage the back of your scalp with his long, cold fingers.

Another thing that became more regular between you both was physical contact. He wasn't a touchy person. Hell he even felt repelled to it sometimes, but one thing he loved was the back massages you gave him.

He had a very tensed back and it felt like heaven whenever you would untangle all of the knots.

So he payed you back giving you head massages. He was probably the only person allowed to tangle and touch your hair. You two just melt into each others arms when you had contact.

Another thing that was common now was that you would do little task for each other. Like for example, Harley reminding you that you needed to drink water. You were so concentrated into your work that you just forgot how much time it had been since your last glass of water.

You sometimes shave the little stubble he had on the sides of his face, styling his facial hair so he would look all put together. This also applied with the hair. You cut his hair and mantain it in the way he liked.

One night that you miraculously ended your work sooner than expected he invited you for dinner.

The restaurant was a fancy one, both your salaries permitted you to be there.

The night went by very calmly, you talked about work and what projects you had in mind. At some point you started talking about your experiences in collage...

The night continued to go on until you both finally went to your apartment. You lived in a good neighborhood and your place was nicely decorated. The first thing Harley though when entering your apartment was you. Everything in there screamed you.

You invited him to a few drinks and gave him some reports and books about investigations on child psychology so he could study his experiments on a deeper level.

The drinks were forgotten on the table after a few sips.

He barely talked while you ranted for minutes about techniques to manage anxiety crisis or stress attacks that sometimes overcame the toys on the prison.

He looked at you, talking and talking. It was always like this. You talked nonstop and he would listen, but lately he also started admiring you. Your hand gestures, you movements, your words slipping due to talking to fast...

You stopped talking when he started to gently stroke your neck with a precision only a surgeon could manage to have. He started naming the muscles, nerves, veins and arteries that were in your neck

With each name he said, he got closer to you to the point of feeling his lips touching your neck.

He repeated the list of names but now kissing each place he named while laying you on the sofa of your living room.

There's no need to say that the night didn't end quickly.

————————————————————————

Another thing you both got used to do was taking books from your offices. Harley had anatomy books and autobiographies in his office and you had sociological, historic and anthropological ones.

Often you would spend your breaks in each others offices reading in the sofa, just enjoying each others presence.

The staff already suspected that you two were either together or at the verge to be. Hell even one of the children had drew you and Harley sit together in a chair while interviewing him.

Stella went to tease you about the drawing, and insisted on you keeping it.

At some point some guards started to joke about the two of you being together.

"Where is Dr (Y/L/N) right now, we have matter to discuss with them?" Leith asked to one of the guards accompanied by Stella

We need to discuss with her some changes on the home sweet home caretakers" Stella added.

She is in the observation room 007, accompanied by Dr Sawyer, sir" He responded cordially.

Both executives went to said room while the guard looked sideways to his coworker who was chuckling to himself.

"What are you laughing about" He asked, questioning what had his companion found that it was so funny

"Nothing, just wondering how Dr Sawyer would react when 'Mrs Sawyer' gets taken by these two for a reunion. I bet five dollar he will accompany them when they get out." He was now laughing a little bit louder but covering his mouth.

"You shouldn't be talking about that kind of stuff. If either of them hear you you might be the next dinner of Boxy Boo." He couldn't believe his coworkers audacity. He wasn't being discreet at all and that might cost them their jobs and life's.

Just as the guard predicted, the four executives went to the upper levels. Apparently Harley insisted on supervising the changes on the environment of the potential experiments children

-Unedited-

#x reader #poppy playtime #harley sawyer x reader #headcannons #dr harley sawyer #the doctor x reader #the doctor #fanfic #harley sawyer

121 notes · View notes

goreandbunnies · 1 day ago

Text

❝ 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚛!𝚂𝚞𝚔𝚞𝚗𝚊 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 ➺

Inspired by @sweetlandspos ‘s fanart ♡

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You see him again on campus a week later as you’re eating lunch in the park, nose in a book, not noticing that he spotted you from a mile away and has been watching you for a moment until he grew too impatient to wait any longer.

Dealer!Sukuna who sits across from you on the picnic table, wearing shades and grinning like he just won the lottery. He leans in and peeks at the cover of the book you’re reading, snickering when he sees the spicy themed cover.

“I knew you were a fun one under that shy attitude,” he teases before picking up a fry from your lunch and munching on it, his pink hair dancing in the warm breeze as you look up at him.

“What do you want?” You ask, trying to sound resigned and confident but you almost choke on the words.

You’ve been thinking about him. Of course you have. The campus’ bad boy offered you to spend a night with him and you just ran away like a scared cat. You were torn between shame and regret but also still deeply turned on by the memory of that night. The missed opportunity drove you mad, until now.

Dealer!Sukuna kept his promise to himself and started chasing after you.

“Do you want the polite version or the truth?” He asks back, grinning before placing a cigarette between his teeth. He leans back, throwing his shades on the table as his knee gently bumps into yours under there, sending electric shockwaves between your legs.

“Both,” you reply shyly, smiling a little. No harm in chatting with him and teasing back, right?

“Well first I’d like us to be friends, baby,” he shrugs, drawing attention to the tattoos on his massive arms, his black tank top clinging to his upper body and not doing a good job at concealing how huge he was. He nods at you and leans over, you mimic him, like two friends sharing a secret. “Then I’d have you in my bed, making sure I’d ruin you for other men in the future. Fictional or real,” he adds mockingly, glancing at your book.

Your breath is hitched, you feel too hot in your own skin and his presence crushes you in the best way. He’s intoxicating, much like the drugs he likes to consume. You wish you could be free to give in, to want him back openly, maybe even make him work for it a little since he wants it - you - so bad. But your studies are too important, you’re too focused on your goal to ruin your chances because of a frat boy. No matter how tempting.

“I- I’m not interested, sorry,” you tell him, frustration and regret gnawing at your gut.

Dealer!Sukuna who sees right through your lies. He knows the effect he already has on you.

“One night, that’s all I’m asking for,” he offers, finishing his cigarette and crushing the butt on the wooden table. “If you don’t want to see me again after that, I’ll let you go,” he lies. But you believe him and this time, it’s too tempting to refuse. Again.

Besides, one night of fun can’t be that harmless. Most students get trashed weekly and yet they still graduate. One night to unwind with the hottest guy on campus wouldn’t put your plans in danger. It’s been forever since you’ve had some adult kind of fun, sticking to smutty books to make sure not to get attached or too distracted by a real man.

“What do you say, Princess?” He insists, one of his long legs sliding between your pressed thighs, prying them open. You let him.

He doesn’t look like the type of guy who gets attached anyways. You tell yourself that you can spend that one night with him then just lie, tell him it wasn’t that good and get back to your bland, boring life. You already know any sex with him would be life changing. It scares you a little. He scares you even more.

“Okay,” you eventually give up, heart pounding in your chest.

Dealer!Sukuna whose eyes light up with malice and excitement the second that small word comes out of your mouth. He’s not the type to work for things, he’s used to people coming to him and giving everything he wants on a silver platter.

This is a first for him. Just like it’s a first for you too. You’ve always made sure to keep away from trouble and he always stuck to the wilder girls out of habit. None of them had sparked a similar interest in him.

His hand reaches out and cups your chin gently. His hand smells like the cigarette he just smoked and this alone ignites something in your lower belly.

“Clear your schedule for me tonight then,” he demands, impatient. You shake your head.

“Not tonight,” you feel stupid for saying no yet again. But you need more than an afternoon to prepare yourself for a whole night with him.

Dealer!Sukuna who lets go of your face, huffing as he collects his shades on the table and snatches a pencil from your stuff. He scribbles his phone number on the margin in the book you’ve stopped reading.

“Up to you now, princess,” he slides the book back to you before getting up, his playfulness gone as he leaves you there, alone.

Your face falls as you glance at the phone number, feeling like you’ve just lost your opportunity to step out of your comfort zone. The one chance to experience more. Defeated, you collect your belongings and head to your next class.

The entire lecture, your mind is on the number written in that book, wondering whether or not you should text him and apologize - what for, being a coward? Or simply tell him that you can’t see him tonight because you’re too nervous. You end up doing nothing, going along with your day.

You’re walking to your last class when a strong hand snatches you from the corridor into a fire exit. Before you can scream, that same hand covers your mouth as you’re being pinned against a wall. Pink hair and crimson eyes come into view and you suddenly become acutely aware of the proximity between your body and his.

Dealer!Sukuna who is just tired of waiting for a taste of his new favourite drug.

♡ Taglist : @gojoscumslut @bohoooitsme @call-memissbrightside @yuujispinkhair @seellove @s3ns4ti0n4l ♡

Dividers by @cafekitsune and @firefly-graphics

#jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen #Sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #sukuna x y/n #jujustu kaisen #jjk au #jjk fluff #jjk smut #tw drugs #sukuna headcanons

168 notes · View notes

aaplecore · 2 days ago

Text

Falling For You (Literally)

(Agatha Harkness x fem!reader)

Summary : Wanda Maximoff hires you to do a landscaping job for her, and her neighbor is absolutely not subtle.

Warnings / tags : smut (18+ !!): oral (a!receiving), pet names (hon, dear, dollface, darling), public(ish) sex / almost getting caught

Notes : first of all: this entire post is inspired almost entirely by @evgar ‘s art !! I hope this is okay that i’m posting this, and everyone should absolutely check out their art it is so amazing <33

Second : should I write a part 2 for this w/ another day on the job? idk yet :)

side note: THE TITLE IS SO CHEESY IM SORRY

Recently, Wanda Maximoff had hired you to help out with some landscaping around her house. Vision thought it was about time they had a change up in the fliers now that they weren’t trying to prevent Sparky from eating whatever they planted.

It was a pretty short job, only a few days of re-doing their front lawn to keep it pristine and perfect. It would be a super easy job. That is if they didn’t have the most distracting neighbor possible.

Constantly, you saw this gorgeous older woman passing through her kitchen, always sipping what seemed like tea from a different mug each time. And god damn, was she beautiful.

The first time you saw her, she was wearing nothing but a black, silk robe with purple flowers and long green stems. The lowest v-neckline you could imagine revealed just a little bit of her cleavage and before you knew it, you were tripping over a bag of fertilizer, landing with a face plant in the dirt. As soon as you were up, you looked back to see her briefly snickering as she turned away. You noticed that her long, wavy hair seemed to sway a bit with her hips as she walked. It was embarrassing… but it seemed like she paid a little bit more attention to you after that day.

A few days after that little incident, you were working out front, hauling around a wheel barrow of fertilizer to finish up a row of Azaelas while you sipped an iced coffee. As per usual, you were glancing over to the woman’s window every now and then, although she hadn’t shown up yet. You were silently hoping that was just because it was still pretty early.

And… you were right. Only a matter of minutes later, she was walking into the my tv hen. This time, she was in a long purple robe, with no tie in the middle… revealing her only wearing a matching set of lacey purple underwear. The bra was pretty damn close to see through, too. Your jaw literally dropped, along with almost dropping your cup of coffee.

And of course… she had to choose that exact moment to look over at you.

Immediately, you looked forward to see you were already stepping into a hole. Before you could really gauge what was happening, you were—again—falling face first into the dirt, now landing in your wheelbarrow, knocking you over with it. The coffee flies out of your hand, splashing all over Wanda’s lawn.

“Ow, fuck…”

You mutter, pulling yourself up and out of the wheelbarrow and brushing dirt out of your hair. As you’re running a hand through the tangles, you hear a voice coming from behind you. Of course, you turn around to see the woman standing there.

Her long hair falls over her face just so… and she’s still not tied her robe. She was standing over you. Half naked. Glaring.

“Are you stalking me?”

She asks bluntly, her hands on her hips. That makes you stop in your tracks. She thought you were a stalker. Shit.

“I’ll have you know, I’m a very powerful woman and you don’t want to fuck with me.”

Her glare is intense as she watches you stand up, looking you up and down—and not subtly at all.

“What? No! Why would I be stalking you?”

You try to explain quickly, reaching over to pick up your coffee cup from the ground.

“I’m doing landscaping for Wanda!”

It seems at your attempt at explaining yourself, the woman’s face softens.

“Oh… I see.”

She mumbles, now crossing her arms. You couldn’t help but glance down at the way it made her cleavage more visible.

“You were staring at me. Why?”

“You’re standing half-naked in front of the entire neighborhood.”

You explain, tilting yo head to the side. Was this behavior just normal for her?

“Yes. It’s my house. I don’t see why that’s an issue.”

The woman shrugs, looking at you like that was the most obvious thing in the world. You open your mouth to argue that it’s not exactly normal when she’s standing in front of a massive window facing her neighbor’s house but she just interrupts you.

“Well, come inside.”

She sighs, turning to head back to her house before you can even question why the hell she’s inviting you inside.

“What? Why- i’m on the job. And I don’t even know you.

You try to argue, looking between the fallen wheelbarrow and her. She turns back to you, looking at you again like you’re some kind of idiot.

“I’m Agatha Harkness. Now you know me. Plus, you spilled your coffee.”

She points out, motioning to the empty cup in your hand.

“I’m not coming out here to make you a fresh cup.”

She shrugs, cocking her head to motion for you to follow.

“Come on, hon, I don’t bite.”

Her sarcastic tones gives away the fact that she’s smiling a little… despite having called you a stalker minutes ago. For some reason though… you follow her to her house.

“Don’t mind the mess.”

She mutters, picking up a singular out of place mug from her coffee table as you enter. The vibe of the house isn’t exactly what you expected. It’s messy… but in a somehow organized way. Like everything is exactly where it’s meant to be.

“Come on, i’ll fix you a new cup. D’you take sweetener, dear?”

She asks, calling from the kitchen where she’s already disappeared.

“Uh… yeah. Sweetener would be nice.”

You mumble, following after her. Her kitchen is just as nice, with a big window facing Wanda’s house. There are very obviously curtains, but she could clearly care less.

“I- uh, I wanted to apologize. For staring earlier.”

Your tone has turned a little big softer, your nerves getting the best of you. Just watching her move around the kitchen in nothing but her bra and panties with a dressing gown is making you a stuttering mess.

“Nonsense. Don’t apologize.”

Agatha shakes her head, facing away from you, getting the coffee maker all set up casually.

“I can’t blame you, dollface.”

She smirks back at you, pressing start on the coffee maker and turning back to face you. Her arms are crossed and, again, she’s very obviously looking you up and down.

For a moment, there’s just quiet between you. You’re leaning against the island in the middle of the kitchen, while she’s leaning on the counter in front of you. It’s a struggle not to look down at her body. All the noise in the kitchen is the sound of the coffee maker slowly brewing your cup.

After a few more seconds of silence, Agatha finally speaks up.

“Why don’t you come over here, hon?”

She asks, something in her tone… sultry. Lower than it was before. Without even questioning her, you push off the counter to stand in front of her, your bodies mere inches apart.

“Why?”

You ask quietly, looking at her. Her smile is damn near predatory. It looks like she’s almost taunting you.

“I think you know why.”

She replies quietly, reaching out and pulling you in by the waist. Her hand is not even grabbing you, but somehow, her grip is firm and her hands are steady. For a moment, you wonder what they would feel like on you. Or in you. Either way.

“You’re just so… cute, hon.”

She murmurs, bringing her free hand up to cup your cheek, turning your face as if she’s examining you. For a second, you very obviously see her look down at your lips. And your faces are only centimeters apart. You swallow hard, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. And… she’s just smiling. Like nothing is wrong.

She pulls your face in just a slight bit, slowly moving… until you just give in and kiss her. With you having taken the initiative, she’s shocked for a moment. But, after a second, her grip on your hip tightens and she’s pulling you flush against her. The way she’s kissing you back is almost messy, and your body is already heating up. Quickly, her hand moves to tangle in your hair, pressing your face against hers desperately, getting somehow more pressed up against you.

Already, you’re reaching your hand down to her underwear, tracing your fingers gently along the hem of the purple lace. The little noise she makes is absolutely hypnotic and you just want to hear more of it. Slowly, you start peppering kisses down her jawline and neck, gently sucking marks into the curve connecting her shoulder to her neck.

“Wow, you’re quick, hon…”

She mumbles, smiling down at you proudly. She’s gotten exactly what she wanted. You bite the side of her neck as a response to her teasing, trailing your free hand up her side. A quiet gasp comes from her when you bite down, she’s honestly astonished that you’re willing to be so bold with her.

“You’re already gasping.”

You mutter against her neck, moving your hand up to cup her bra, causing her to let out a strained moan.

“And moaning.”

You point out, moving your lips further down, kissing down her collarbones and chest. At this point, you have to bend your knees to kiss her, needy to taste any bit of skin you can. You’re nearly kneeling in front of her already. And Agatha’s living for the sight of you under her.

“You say that like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.”

She scoffs, her hand still tangled in your hair, humming softly when you kiss around the curve of her breast. Slowly, you’re moving further down, leaving marks as you go, only fueled by the little moans and hums coming from Agatha when you kiss a particularly sensitive spot.

Before you know it, you’re kneeling in the ground in front of her. Agatha is still leaning up against the counter, while you’re hidden behind the island underneath her. You pepper gentle kisses all around her thighs and stomach, up until you’re kissing the fabric of her underwear right over her clit. Even the slight pressure causes Agatha to moan again.

If you had the resistance, you’d tease her more but, after hearing that noise, you hook your fingers under her panties and pull them down until they drop to the ground. Now it’s just Agatha, standing in her bra and dressing robe, her pussy naked in front of your face. The smirk on her face is still proud but you can tell she’s a little bit weakened—there’s a slight furrow in her brows.

“Come on, darling, I don’t have all day.”

She murmurs, her voice strained. Of course, you don’t hesitate to finally start kissing her. Her core is already practically dripping wet. When you press your tongue up against her, licking a line up to her clit, she lets out a loud moan. Even the slightest touch has her writhing. To keep her still, you firmly plant your hands on her thighs. Again, you lick her, just to watch her head roll back, her hand in your hair tightening.

“Fuck, doll, just like that. Faster, baby.”

She commands. Again, you listen without hesitation, dipping your tongue into her folds, applying more pressure when your tongue circles her clit. Her knuckles are turning white as she holds the counter, her eyes practically rolling back into her head. And damn she’s vocal. It seems like she’s already close just from you circling her clit with your tongue.

Speeding up your pace a little, you feel her hips bucking into your mouth a little, until she suddenly stops her movements, clearly tensing up.

“Fuck… Wanda.”

She groans. When you look up—still licking her, your hands planted firmly on her thighs—you see that she’s smiling and waving, trying to look as normal as possible. But of course, you see your opportunity. You bring your tongue up to her clit and start flicking it quickly, making her moan even louder, unable to hold it back.

Meanwhile, while Wanda waves to Agatha through her kitchen window—her lower half hidden by the island—her face turns to confusion. She’s not used to seeing Agatha looking nervous. Yet now, it looks like she’s sweating. Agatha curses internally, praying for Wanda to just leave already so she can stop smiling like a lunatic.

Eventually, Wanda walks away and Agatha groans, looking down at you with a glare—although you can tell she’s not exactly angry—as her hand tightens its hold on your hair.

“Brat.”

She mutters, rolling her head back with a strained ‘fuck’ when you press up against her clit. You know just how to shut her up. And you know she’s close because her hips are bucking up into your face again.

“Just a bit faster, doll.”

Agatha moans, the sound strained between moans. You put some pressure over her slit, sucking on it to get her over the edge… until she’s practically screaming, her hips bucking into your face as her thighs shake.

Slowly, you help her ride through it, licking up the slick from between her thighs, although she’s still damp even when you come back up to stand in front of her. There’s a little sheen from her come on your lips.

“Who knew landscapers would be such a good fuck…”

Agatha mutters, grabbing her panties from the ground with a smirk.

“I do my best.”

You reply confidently, shrugging. She snorts a laugh at your response, shaking her head.

“I can tell… how about you come back tomorrow? I can brew you some tea.”

She offers, her voice still sultry as she hands you the cup of coffee you’d evidently forgotten. You almost forgot about work. Almost.

“I can’t stay for a bit?”

You ask, pouting as if it’ll be any help.

She scoffs in response, slipping back into her panties.

“I’ve got a meeting in twenty, doll. I’ve gotta get ready. This was nice, though.”

Already, her hands are on your shoulders, guiding you to the door. She’s so… casual about this.

“I’d better see you tomorrow… Now go tell Wanda you had to grab some supplies form your car.”

It’s like she’s doing a business transaction now, waving with her fingers to you as she opens the door.

“I- right. Yes.”

You stutter, realizing now that this was just casual for her… but still, she invited you back. And a win is a win.

She mouths ‘bye-bye’ at you as you walk down her front lawn, watching you from a large brick in the door. You can’t help but keep glancing back at her.

“Oh, and, hon!”

She calls out, snapping as if she just remembered something when you’re nearly halfway back to Wanda’s house.

“Wear something that’s easy to take off tomorrow, okay?”

Even just that little comment causes you to blush again. Seeing the flush in her cheeks makes her smile again, like she knows she’s got you wrapped around her finger. And that’s the last thing you see before she shuts her front door.

#agatha all along #wlw #agatha x fem!reader #agatha harkness #agatha x reader #agatha x you #fem!reader #marvel #wandavision #agatha harkness fic

153 notes · View notes

luvfae · 2 days ago

Text

BAD INVESTMENT

PART SEVENTEEN

summary: thanos confesses everything. the betrayal is brutal, but the worst part? he actually cares. you walk away, but this isn’t over.

parings: thanos/choi su bong x f!reader, lee myung gi x f!reader

warnings: swearing, mention of stalking, mention of drugs, cheating

bad investment masterlist

“When I first met you… my intentions weren’t pure,” Thanos admitted, voice raw, eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place.

Your stomach twisted.

“I wanted revenge so fucking bad,” he continued, his fingers clenching into fists at his sides. “MG Coin took everything from me—my money, my pride. I didn’t just want to hurt him, Y/N. I wanted to ruin him.”

A heavy silence settled between you.

You gulped, your heartbeat hammering against your ribs.

You already knew you wouldn’t like where this was going.

“So I came up with a plan,” he said, running a hand through his hair, frustration bleeding into his every move. “A stupid, fucking plan.”

You swallowed hard. “Just tell me.”

He exhaled shakily, avoiding your gaze. “You were the only thing in his pathetic life actually worth something. So I figured… I’d steal you.”

You stared at him, brows furrowed, urging him to continue.

“All those times we ran into each other? The street, the club, the café near your job?” He shook his head. “None of them were coincidences, Y/N. I was watching you. I was stalking you.”

It felt like the air had been knocked from your lungs.

Your entire body went rigid, a wave of nausea rolling through you.

Thanos hesitated, like he didn’t want to continue. Like he already knew he’d crossed an unforgivable line.

But he had to.

If he wanted something real with you, he couldn’t build it on more lies.

“That night… the first time we kissed, at Club Pentagon,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the blood rushing in your ears.

You remembered that night. The way he had consoled you when you cried, eyes smoldering, all charm and confidence. The way his touch had felt like fire when he touched yiu. The way your head had been a little hazy, your body a little too warm—

Oh god.

“I—” Thanos sucked in a sharp breath. “I drugged your drink.”

The room spun.

“You what?!”

He flinched.

“I was going to film us,” he continued quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid. “I was going to send it to Myung-Gi—to ruin him. I thought if he saw you with me, if he saw you moaning my name, he’d break.”

Your entire body went cold.

You stood up so fast the bed creaked beneath you, pacing the room, trying to breathe through the overwhelming nausea twisting your stomach into knots.

He just watched you, guilt carved into every inch of his face.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You wanted to scream.

“You stalked me?” The words felt foreign on your tongue.

Thanos exhaled, nodding stiffly.

You let out a bitter, humorless laugh. “Of course. Of course it wasn’t a fucking coincidence that you just happened to be outside my job. That you just happened to be at that Italian restaurant. Jesus Christ.”

You shook your head, rubbing at your temples, feeling sick.

“You drugged my drink?” Your voice cracked.

Thanos’ jaw clenched. He nodded again, this time looking ashamed. “But I didn’t—”

“And you were going to fucking record me without my knowledge?!” you snapped, fury and betrayal bleeding into every syllable.

He inhaled sharply. “I never recorded anything, I swear.”

Your hands were shaking.

“You were just going to use me,” you whispered. “Like I was some pawn in your twisted little revenge game. Like I wasn’t even a person.”

Thanos ran a hand down his face, eyes filled with something desperate, something pleading. “I know I fucked up. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But Y/N—” His voice cracked, thick with something raw. “I care about you. I swear to fucking God, I do.”

You stared at him, searching his face for something, anything, that could make this less painful.

But it was all there. The regret. The guilt. The self-loathing.

The love.

And that made it worse.

You let out a shaky breath, stepping back. “You are an asshole.”

His whole body flinched.

“I can’t—” Your voice broke. “I can’t do this right now.”

He moved toward you, hand outstretched. “Y/N, please—”

“Stop,” you said, slipping on your jacket, fumbling for your shoes. “I need time. I need to think.”

His fingers curled into fists at his sides. His eyes were wild, desperate.

You could see it—the battle raging in his mind.

He didn’t want to let you leave.

But he also couldn’t risk pushing you further away.

You reached for the door, but before you could step through, he grabbed your wrist.

Not forcefully. Not angrily. Just—desperately.

“I—”

“Su-Bong,” you whispered.

He froze.

His grip loosened, and you pulled away.

You looked up at him one last time.

“It’s a lot for a girl to process,” you said quietly. “Please. I’ll text you when I’m ready… if I’m ready.”

And then you left.

Not because he wanted you to.

Not because he was ready to let you go.

But because, for the first time in his life, Thanos was terrified of losing something that actually mattered.

And fuck, if you thought this was over—

You were dead wrong.

#squid game #thanos #thanos x reader #choi su bong #choi su bong x reader #lee myung gi #myung gi x reader

93 notes · View notes

burntheedges · 3 days ago

Text

Awake

Marcus Moreno x f!reader | 6.6k | 18+ | ao3

summary: Marcus is fine. He wakes up, goes to work, goes home, goes to sleep, and then does it all over again, just the same, every day. And he's fine.

And then he meets you.

a/n: this is for @guiltyasdave and @sizzlingcloudmentality's writing through the seasons challenge! you can see my prompt and moodboard here (which I borrowed from for the header). I had the prompt ("to live with the delusion of being found") banging around in my head for days and it just screams Marcus to me. thank you @katareyoudrilling for being a wonderful beta, as always.

tags/warnings: angst, fluff, flirting, meet cute, Missy is a fun teenager, texting, coffee shop, touching, I named Miracle Guy Rob and Missy's mom Melissa, self deprecation (Marcus), shifting POV, kissing, grinding, reader has no description other than being a woman and having a job, no age mentioned but just FYI I was imagining her in her 30s or 40s, first date, coffee, pet names (beautiful, sweetheart), some Spanish (mija, calmate)

...

On Monday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

Missy had picked it out – it wasn’t one of the sounds that came with his phone. She’d used some app to make it play part of “Takin’ Care of Business,” but only on weekdays. He didn’t know how to change it. He probably could have looked it up but he wouldn’t, anyway – she’d said it made her think of him going to work every day. So now it made him think of her, and at least he had that thought, if nothing else, to warm him as he got out of bed.

(His mood never quite matched the song’s, but at least he had a goal to work towards. Right?)

So he woke up when the piano came in, and sighed as he swung his legs off the bed. He sat there for a moment, letting Randy Bachman sing to him about getting to work by nine.

He sighed again.

He turned off the alarm, finally, and stood. He did not look in the mirror on top of his dresser as he walked past it into the bathroom.

Marcus showered and dressed on autopilot, mind almost blank. As always he just picked the next slacks, jacket, and shirt, whatever was at the front of his closet. He’d done this so many times, on so many mornings, it barely required him to be awake.

When the coffee maker beeped, he found himself standing fully dressed in his kitchen without really noticing that he’d walked there. He poured his coffee – just a splash of cream – and sat at the kitchen table to turn on the news. As he let the sound of yet another day wash over him, he texted Missy, smiling when she responded almost instantly.

Marcus 08:27 AM: Good morning, mija

Missy 08:28 AM: dad 08:28 AM: why did I sign up for a 9am dad 08:29 AM: i’m dying

Marcus 8:30 AM: if I’m remembering correctly, you had “big gym plans”

Missy 8:32 AM: never listen to me about gym plans again 8:33 AM: what was I thinkinggggg 😩

Marcus let his amusement at Missy’s texts buoy him to the sink and then out to his car, feeling a bit lighter.

Like his morning routine at home, he barely noticed the drive to work. It was the same as always, and in 17 minutes he was getting out of his parked car at HQ. He felt his shoulders stiffen as he stepped through the double doors into the lobby.

On his floor, Marcus walked to the kitchen first to drop off his lunch. He nodded at the same people he walked past every morning. Then he sat at his desk, answered his emails, and attended some meetings about upcoming missions for the current active teams. On his way to the break room for lunch he nodded at the same people again. After lunch he attended a few more meetings, dodged Rob in the hallway when he asked about Marcus’ weekend, and answered more emails.

At 5pm he stood up from his desk and walked to his car, nodding to the same people again on his way out.

Marcus drove home on autopilot, and 17 minutes later he found himself walking into his kitchen from the garage. He sighed as he opened the fridge, and decided dinner would be leftovers. Again.

Since it was Monday, and Missy wouldn’t be calling, he sat on the couch and turned the TV to the Food Network. He let the soothing sounds of low stakes cooking problems take over and crowd himself out of his own head.

10pm found Marcus in bed, setting his alarm. He got comfortable, stretched out his back, which always seemed to be aching these days, and pointedly did not think about the fact that he couldn’t think of a single thing he’d done at work that day.

As he fell asleep, he thought idly that he was glad his time as an active member of the Heroics had taught him how to fall asleep anywhere, if nothing else.

…

On Tuesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

His morning unfolded almost identically to Monday’s, aside from the fact that Missy wasn’t awake yet to respond to his good morning text – her Tuesday classes started at 11:30 and she usually took full advantage of the chance to sleep in.

As he sat and sipped his coffee, something on the news briefly caught his interest, until he realized it was something that had already crossed his desk the week before.

He sighed.

Marcus drove to work – 17 minutes – and went through the motions of another day at the office.

He ate lunch with Rob in his office, which had bigger windows than Marcus’s, and got his regular updates on how Rob’s family was doing (Peter had gone off to college, too, and they commiserated about their kids abandoning them).

Rob, as always, asked Marcus how he was doing with a knowing look that Marcus, as always, pointedly ignored.

“I’m fine,” he said, as always, stabbing a piece of chicken in his tupperware dish with a bit too much force. He was always fine. What else would he be?

Rob eyed him. “Are you?”

Marcus chewed and did not sigh. “Yes, I am,” he promised.

Rob squinted, and Marcus squinted back. That made his friend laugh, at least, and they changed the subject.

Marcus left the office a bit quicker that night and 17 minutes later he walked in the house just as his phone rang.

“Hi, mija,” he said, smiling as he picked up his daughter’s regular Tuesday phone call. She had a long walk home from her last class and usually called him to pass the time.

He let her voice wash over him, soothing the tension that had crept into his shoulders when Rob had squinted at him over lunch. Missy’s updates on her classes and her friends carried him through reheating his leftovers and collapsing on the couch. By the time she had to go he was more relaxed than he’d been in days. (Since her last call, probably, he did not let himself think, and made sure to tell her he loved her before she hung up.)

With a bit more help from the Food Network, Marcus successfully distracted himself until it was time for bed.

…

On Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

He got dressed, went to work, nodded at his coworkers, answered emails, ate lunch, nodded a bit more, and went home.

And through all of it, he was fine.

He was fine.

…

Marcus spent Saturday at home doing chores, and Sunday at the farmer’s market and the grocery store. Missy called once, and Rob texted him to invite him to Corina’s birthday dinner in two weeks. Marcus added it to his calendar and took care not to notice how every other weekend was empty.

…

On Monday, Marcus woke up with his alarm.

He moved automatically from his bed to his bathroom and then to his closet, showering and dressing as usual.

He walked downstairs, thinking idly about the meetings he had scheduled in the morning, and the training he needed to plan for the newest crop of Heroics.

Lost in thought, Marcus stood holding an empty mug in front of his coffee maker for almost 5 minutes before he realized it hadn’t beeped.

He blinked and looked down, confused.

There was no coffee in the pot. He realized he hadn’t smelled the coffee as he usually did while he was getting ready. He looked it over and saw that the setting was right, but there was no coffee.

He frowned.

Poking at the coffee maker revealed that the screen wouldn’t come on, even though it was plugged in. A few more moments of tinkering and he knew – it was broken.

Marcus sighed and checked the time – 8:10 AM. He texted Missy.

Marcus 08:10 AM: Mija, I am sorry to report that after a long and fruitful life, our beloved Mr. Coffee has percolated his last brew. May he rest in peace 🪦

Missy 08:12 AM: nooo!! not Mr. Coffee 💔 08:13 AM: your best friend, taken from us too soon 08:13 AM: how will you go on without him

He smiled. He knew she’d be able to cheer him up.

Marcus 08:15 AM: with difficulty, but I will persevere

Missy 08:17 AM: wait! 08:17 AM: dad you should go to the Bean Box!! I know you never actually did when I told you to 08:18 AM: it’s on your way to work dad you have to go 08:18 AM: it’s the best the coffee is so good 08:19 AM: daaaaaad

Marcus 08:20 AM: ok ok, calmate 08:20 AM: I’m going

Missy 08:22 AM: good! and get a scone to eat in my honor 08:23 AM: I miss those scones

15 minutes later Marcus pulled up in front of the small facade of the Bean Box and couldn’t help but smile. It was exactly the type of place Missy would like – cozy and colorful, with lots of tables stuffed inside and flower boxes overflowing along the bottom of each of the large windows in the front.

When he stepped inside, the smell of freshly roasted coffee filled his nose and he almost stopped in the doorway. It smelled good.

He joined the long line for coffee and scrolled idly on his phone, checking the news, a bit oblivious to his surroundings.

So he was surprised when his phone almost flew out of his hand a few moments later. Someone knocked into him from behind and he stumbled forward. He made some sort of noise as he juggled his phone between his hands, just barely catching it before it could fall.

“Good catch,” an admiring voice said from behind him. He turned as they continued, “Wait, I mean, I’m so sorry about that! Shit.”

Marcus turned around fully and almost froze. A woman was standing there with her hands out, as if she had just caught her balance, grimacing at him. A very beautiful woman, he couldn’t help but notice. He blinked, trying to clear his vision, but she was just as beautiful as she’d been a moment before. His eyes darted across her features but he didn’t let himself sweep his gaze over the rest of her. He didn’t want to be a creep.

Suddenly it felt much warmer in the coffee shop, and he was very aware of how close they were standing to each other.

“Shit,” she repeated. “Sorry, again. I tripped,” she pointed at the leg of a chair that was almost in the aisle, “and ended up sort of falling on you. But I’m glad you caught your phone! Nice catch, really.” She looked down and he did, too. She’d dropped her bag and some of her belongings had spilled out. She sighed. “Shit.”

Marcus was crouching before he’d even thought about bending down. “It’s alright,” he said, smiling a bit. “No harm done. Sorry about your stuff.” he gathered some papers and held them out to her. She had followed him down, kneeling as she gathered her things back into her bag.

She took them and said, “wait, you don’t have to do that! I already almost knocked you over, you don't have to help me.”

He shook his head. “Like I said, it’s fine.” He realized she had all of her things but they were both still crouching. He stood and offered her his hand to help her up.

She slid her hand into his easily and his breath caught as she said, “well, thank you, and sorry, again.” Her hand was warm and he ignored the way his fingers tingled at her touch.

She was smiling, then, and Marcus couldn’t help but notice that her smile was very pretty. So pretty he had to drag his eyes away from it, trying not to stare.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like this. There was warmth in his chest and a floaty feeling in his stomach and the tips of his fingers were still tingling where they’d touched hers. It felt almost foreign, it had been so long. He felt lightheaded.

“Please don’t worry about it.” He looked around and realized the line had moved a little, so he took a step forward to move with it. She did the same. “I’m Marcus, by the way.”

She gave her name and he smiled. It suited her.

“Can I buy you an apology coffee?” she asked, looking hopeful. “I still feel bad.”

He shook his head, laughing. “No, it’s really ok. I mean it.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, looking suddenly thoughtful and amused. “I’ve never had anyone turn down a free cup of coffee from here before. You must be new.”

Marcus was smiling. He realized he might have been smiling at her the whole time, and felt a bit of wonder at that. “It’s that obvious? I am. New, I mean. My daughter has been telling me to come here for months but this is my first time.”

Her eyebrows raised and he hoped he was imagining the way her expression closed off a bit. But in the next moment he wondered at himself for even thinking of it. Don’t be a fool, he warned himself, even as he felt the urge to explain. She’s just nice, she’s not interested.

“She has good taste,” she said lightly. “What took you so long, then?”

Marcus sighed and gave in to the urge. “It’s just me at home, with her away at college, and I’ve just been torturing my ancient coffee maker by keeping it alive. But it took its last dying breaths this morning and I was forced to venture out for coffee, instead.”

She nodded solemnly. “Rest in peace, ancient coffee maker.” The jokingly serious look on her face reminded him of the way Missy would tease him and he couldn’t help but smile. Again.

Suddenly Marcus realized they’d made it to the front of the line. He wasn’t ready to order, or to stop talking to this beautiful woman who had almost knocked him over.

“I guess I’m up,” he said, as the person in front of him started to pay.

He tried not to watch as she bit her lip, hesitating for just a moment. “Well, Marcus,” she said, voice light again. “I’m here most mornings, so you’ll have to come back and let me know if you liked it.”

Marcus felt his cheeks warm and he smiled. “Ok then. I’ll try.”

For the rest of the day, he found he couldn’t quite wipe that smile off of his face, not even when Rob teased him about it.

…

On Tuesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm, already smiling.

He glanced at himself in the mirror as he got dressed, and was stunned to see his face looking so relaxed for once.

Is that all it takes? He wondered, amused at his own expense. A bit of flirting and a pretty smile? But it wasn’t just about her pretty smile, he knew that. He’d felt something the day before, something he hadn’t felt in years.

Something he wanted to feel again.

He’d told Missy he liked her coffee shop the night before and promised he’d be back (and that he’d get a scone, this time). So he hurried downstairs and out to his car as soon as he was dressed, ready to find out if he would run into her again.

When he pulled up outside The Bean Box, he took a deep, slow breath. Sure, he was a teensy bit invested. Something about her had kindled a tiny fire in his chest. But he didn’t want to get his hopes too high. He shouldn’t. Right?

But as he stepped inside, he realized he needn’t have worried. She was standing by the door, looking just as stunning as the day before. And she was watching the people coming in.

When she saw him, she grinned. “I knew you’d be back! It’s good, right?”

Marcus nodded as felt a smile stretch across his face. “It is. And I promised my daughter I’d get a scone this time.”

Her eyes lit up. He couldn’t look away. “Oh, you definitely need to get a scone. They’re amazing.”

She stepped into line next to him and he noticed they both kept their bodies turned towards each other as they talked.

“You said she’s in college, right?” She tilted her head at him. Marcus tried not to trace the line of her neck with his eyes. “Is she enjoying it?”

He nodded. “She’s a freshman, but she settled in quick. She’s so independent, I knew she would.” He looked down, smiling as he thought about his daughter, and told her about Missy’s major. “She blows me away, honestly.”

When he looked back up he found her smiling softly at him. “Sounds like she’s got a great dad.”

Marcus smiled and ducked his head again. “I miss her, but it helps that she’s doing so well. And we talk a lot. More than I expected, really. Figured she’d be too busy.”

He felt something warm on his arm and realized she had reached out and lightly rested her hand on his forearm. He blinked and felt a flush rise in his cheeks and start to travel down his neck. He suddenly wished he wasn’t wearing a sweater over his dress shirt, wished he could feel her hand on his skin again.

“I’d say that means you’re definitely a great dad.” She was still smiling. “Take it from me, and my memories of college. I definitely didn’t talk to my parents that much.” She laughed and Marcus felt his breath catch at the way it lit up her features. Her hand was still on his arm and he fought the urge to cover it with his own, to keep it there.

He shook himself and nodded. “It’s been just us for so long. We are pretty close.”

She squeezed his arm lightly and he felt a shiver run up his spine. When her hand fell away, he missed it immediately. “Has it been tough? Adjusting without her.”

Marcus sighed and nodded. “My house is so empty now.” He laughed, ruefully. “I swear, it echoes in there. Never expected I would miss all the noise.”

She nodded. “I’ve got nieces and nephews, and they’re so loud, but I always miss it when they’re gone. It’s not the same, but I get that.”

As the line moved forward, she told him more about her sister’s kids and their antics. Marcus found himself smiling and laughing more than he had outside of a call with Missy in… months. Longer? He didn’t want to think about it, not when he was caught up in feeling like this instead.

By the time they reached the front of the line, he was only wishing they had more time.

She hesitated when it was almost her turn to step up to the counter. “Did you get your coffee maker fixed?”

He shook his head. “No, I don’t think it’s fixable, and honestly it deserves to rest. It lived a long life.”

She laughed and then bit her lip. It drew his eyes like a magnet.

“So, will I see you again tomorrow?” She looked hopeful and he wanted so badly to read into it.

“I think so,” he agreed, smiling a bit shyly.

She grinned at him. “Good.”

He carried the memory of that grin with him through the rest of the day, until Rob managed to weasel the whole story out of him over lunch. He told his friend about the way they’d met and how she’d been standing inside the door that morning.

But somehow telling it to someone else had Marcus second guessing the whole thing.

“I’m probably just imagining it.” He was standing with Rob in the hall by his office, coming back from lunch, wishing it had never come up.

“Well, I think you should go back and you should talk to her again.” Rob furrowed his brow at Marcus and poked him in the arm.

Marcus frowned and brushed his hand away. “Rob, she’s probably not interested.”

His friend frowned back, exaggerating the expression until it was comical. “Sounded like she was. Why wouldn’t she be?”

Marcus shook his head and grimaced. “Why would she be? I’m a sad, boring, almost 50-year old man who does nothing but go to work and wait for his daughter to call him. I’m not delusional, ok, I know no one wants to deal with that. Especially not someone like her.”

Rob sighed. He reached out and grabbed Marcus’ shoulders and squeezed. “Marcus. Listen to me. You are a smart, funny, and caring man who loves his daughter and his friends. You deserve more, ok? Tell me you know that.”

Marcus shook his head. “Know what?”

“That it’s not a delusion to think you deserve to be loved.”

“Loved?” Marcus shook his head and tried not to scoff. “We’re just talking about someone I met at a coffee shop.” He ignored that his heart had started to beat just a bit faster when he thought about her, just like it had in The Bean Box when she’d touched his arm. And when she’d smiled at him, looking so hopeful that she’d see him again.

Rob raised his eyebrows. “Someone you can’t stop thinking about, and who flirted with you and got you out of your shell. Right?”

Marcus sighed.

“Marcus,” Rob said, voice careful, and Marcus knew what was coming next. “Is this about Melissa? I–”

He shook his head, interrupting. “No, I mean, not really. You know I’ve gone on dates, well, a while ago. It’s just…” He closed his eyes. “It’s been so long, and since Missy left for college, I’ve just been…” he trailed off, looking for the right word. “Asleep, I think. It’s so quiet. Every day is the same.”

Marcus opened his eyes to find his best friend frowning at him.

“I get it. But it sounds like this shook you out of that routine, right?” Marcus sighed. “Marcus, look, just– promise me you won’t just dismiss it, ok? Give it a chance.”

He wanted to scrub his hands over his eyes but Rob was still holding his shoulders. “How do I do that?”

Rob shrugged. “You’ve already run into her twice. Just keep going back. See what happens.”

Marcus closed his eyes and finally broke out of his friend’s hold. He leaned against the wall behind him. “Ok. Ok, I can do that.”

Rob let out a long breath, clearly relieved. “Good. And just let yourself enjoy it, ok? I know you know how to flirt. Even if you’re rusty.”

Marcus rolled his eyes and shoved Rob back a bit. “Yeah, yeah. I thought you wanted me to go back, huh? Stop making me nervous.”

Rob waved his hand, laughing. “You’re already nervous. But I’ve seen you flirt, man, even if it’s been a minute. I believe in you.”

At least someone did.

…

On Wednesday, Marcus woke up with his alarm, and immediately felt nervous.

He paused in front of his closet, actually looking at his clothes for the first time in a long time. Should I wear this shirt? Or a sweater? He hesitated, cursed himself for wasting time, and then grabbed the next shirt and slacks, as always.

He walked straight past his kitchen on his way to his car, only glancing at the clock. 08:14 AM.

Missy 08:17 AM: are you going to the Bean Box again 08:18 AM: have I created a monster

Marcus 08:27 AM: just pulled up 08:27 AM: I’ll eat a scone for you

Missy 08:28 AM: mail me one 🙏

Marcus 08:29 AM: counter offer: I’ll buy you one when you’re home next

Missy 08:29 AM: deal

Marcus was smiling at his phone as he opened the door into the coffee shop, belatedly looking up at his surroundings after he stepped inside. He didn’t see her and started to frown.

“Let me guess – your daughter?”

He turned to find her behind him, leaning against the high table by the door. She gestured at his phone with a smile. He nodded. “How’d you know?”

She stepped closer and looked down at his phone. “You were smiling at it as you walked in.”

He couldn’t help but smile again. “She asked me to mail her a scone.”

She laughed and Marcus watched the way it changed her face. Beautiful.

“Would it survive?” She grinned and fell into step next to him in the line for coffee.

He shook his head. “No, but I promised I’d buy her one next time she’s home.”

“When’s that?”

“Spring break.”

She frowned sympathetically. “So far away! That’s too bad.”

Marcus sighed, agreeing. “It is, but it helps knowing that she’s having such a great time.”

She looked thoughtful and nudged Marcus with her shoulder. He felt himself flush. “You know, you could look up coffee shops near her campus and buy her a gift card or something. Somewhere similar. Probably better than mailing a scone.”

He blinked, surprised. That was a good idea. “I…” he trailed off. “That’s–”

“Sorry,” she interrupted, wincing. “I didn’t mean–”

“No,” he said, not wanting her to apologize. He touched his fingertips lightly to her arm – she was wearing short sleeves, and the touch of his skin against hers deepened his flush. His fingertips started to tingle and he felt his heart start to beat faster in his chest. “I was going to say, that’s a great idea. Thank you.”

She grinned at him and leaned forward, which brought her arm more in contact with his hand. Suddenly he found himself with a light hold on her forearm, gripping it gently. He stroked his thumb across her skin before he even realized what he was doing.

“I was worried I’d overstepped,” she said without moving away from him.

Marcus shook his head, momentarily speechless at the feel of her skin and the knowledge that she hadn’t pulled away.

“No,” he murmured. “I’m definitely going to do that. She’ll love it.”

For a moment he didn’t move, and neither did she. He noticed the line moving out of the corner of his eye but didn’t do anything about it until the person behind them in line cleared their throat.

Startled, he stepped forward, losing contact with her arm. She was still smiling at him as she turned.

“You know,” he said, wishing he could reach out to touch her hand. “I never asked what brings you here every day.”

She hummed. “Well the coffee, of course,” she winked at him, “but I also work from here most mornings. I like the atmosphere, and all of my meetings are in the afternoon.”

He nodded, thinking that sounded nice. “So if I were to keep up my new coffee habit, you’d be here in the mornings?”

She turned towards him then and he leaned closer.

“Yep,” she agreed. “Most days. Maybe you could stick around sometime.” She raised her eyebrows but he sighed.

“I can’t,” he said, looking down. “Have to be in the office.”

Her face fell and he felt something twist inside his chest. She opened her mouth to reply but he interrupted. He didn’t want her to feel like that, not when he was feeling like this.

“Maybe we could,” his voice came out a bit strangled and he cleared his throat. “Maybe we could have dinner sometime instead?”

Marcus watched as her face transformed from disappointed to hopeful. He smiled.

“I’d like that, Marcus.”

…

Marcus couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on a date, it had been so long.

(That was a lie – he just didn’t want to remember, it had gone so badly. But it had been years – he was pretty sure Missy had been in middle school at the time.)

He spent way too long staring at his clothes and trying to ignore Rob’s encouraging texts. He settled on dark jeans and a sweater. When his phone pinged again, he finally looked down to check it.

Rob (5:37 PM): Corina says wear the dark green sweater (5:38 PM): I don’t even know which sweater she’s talking about but I assume you do

Marcus looked down and laughed. He had, in fact, chosen the dark green sweater.

Marcus (5:41 PM): tell her I am and that I had the same idea

Rob (5:43 PM): she says good choice and have a great time (5:44 PM): I mean, me too

Marcus smiled as he walked downstairs. He was glad for the support, but he knew he looked good in this sweater. It was one of the few purchases he’d made in recent years just because he liked the way it looked.

He got in the car and headed towards the restaurant where they’d agreed to meet. It was a short drive but he could feel himself getting more and more nervous the closer he got.

After he parked, he stopped and took a deep breath. He thought of Melissa, as he’d done quite a bit since he met the beautiful woman in the coffee shop. It had been so long since they’d lost her, and he’d had quite a bit of time to think about dating again. This wasn’t even his first try.

But it always made him a little wistful. He took a moment to think about what she’d say – probably something about how his arms looked in the sweater. The thought made him laugh and shake his head. He got out of the car.

She was waiting by the door, and she was stunning.

…

You tried not to fidget as you stood by the door to the restaurant. It was a place your coworker had recommended, but you’d never been. Your nerves had driven you to arrive ten minutes early and now you had nothing to do but wait, and think of the gorgeous man you were waiting for.

And he really was gorgeous. You’d known that from the moment he’d turned around after you’d almost knocked him over in your favorite coffee shop – a memory that made your cheeks burn, even now, you’d been so embarrassed. He was tall with a jawline that made you want to bite, shoulders that were so broad you needed to get your hands on them, and warm brown eyes that had so much feeling in them, it took your breath away.

And then he’d smiled at you, and helped you with your things. And flirted. And then he’d come back, and kept coming back. For coffee, of course, but also to talk to you.

Every time he walked into The Bean Box, he looked around, looking for you. And when he saw you, his face lit up. You couldn’t help but smile just thinking about it.

How is he single? It was a question you’d been wondering about all week. You figured it was probably because he was a single dad, and his daughter had just gone to college. But at the same time you couldn’t comprehend that no one had locked this gorgeous, thoughtful, funny, caring man down. Their loss, you thought, and smiled again.

At that moment you looked up, and caught sight of Marcus getting out of his car. Your smile stretched into a grin.

“Hello there,” he said, smiling as he walked closer to you. “You look stunning this evening.”

You looked him over and tilted your head. “So do you, in that sweater.”

He blushed and you bit your lip. It was so charming when he did that.

“Ready for dinner?” he asked, and when you nodded he turned to guide you inside. You felt his hand come up to rest on your lower back. It was big and warm, just as warm as it had been when he’d held your arm. You shivered.

The restaurant had a table waiting for you, and you turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He smiled and shrugged. “I called two days ago when you said yes to dinner.”

The table they led you to was cozy – tucked in a corner with a window, a romantic candle flickering in the center. When you sat, you realized a couple of plants hid you from the rest of the room.

“Cozy,” you said, smiling.

Marcus nodded. “My best friend has brought his wife here, says it’s fantastic. And romantic.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, reaching out to nudge his hand where it rested on the table. “Romantic, huh?”

Marcus looked suddenly unsure, which made you slide your hand over his and squeeze. “Is that alright?”

You nodded. “It’s more than alright, Marcus. It’s perfect.”

He smiled again, and the two of you settled into an easy conversation about your weeks, about his daughter, and about your work. It flowed just as comfortably as it had at the coffee shop and you felt the warmth that Marcus had kindled inside of you from the first moment start to burn again. It carried you through dinner.

You watched his face as he talked and couldn’t help but marvel again at how handsome he was. He seemed to notice your focus and smirked a bit. “What?”

“Hmm?” you blinked, eyes snapping back to meet his.

He reached across the table and laced his fingers with yours. “I was just wondering what you were thinking.”

Your face warmed but you wanted to tell him, anyway. “Just got distracted by how handsome you are.”

Marcus blushed again and you grinned. “Really?” he looked doubtful, and you couldn’t have that.

“Oh yes,” you said, leaning towards him. “Not for the first time. You know how hard it was not to stare, in the coffee shop?”

He laughed and picked up your hand. He leaned forward, too, and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. You bit your lip at the sensation of his lips against your skin. “Me?” he asked, smiling against your knuckles. “What about you? You’re so beautiful I couldn’t take my eyes off you. And then you smiled, and well.” He kissed your knuckles again. “Still can’t look away from you, even if I wanted to.”

For a moment you just stared at each other, smiling.

“Marcus,” you started, lifting your fingers to press against his jaw. He held on, but let you turn your hand until you could cup his cheek. “Do you want to come home with me?”

He blinked, clearly surprised. “I–” He swallowed, looking nervous. “It’s been a while, since…” he trailed off. “It’s been a while,” he repeated, smiling shyly.

You traced his cheekbone with your thumb. “There’s no rush,” you promised. You leaned a little closer and he leaned in to meet you. “I just want you to kiss me, Marcus,” you murmured, and watched his pleasure at that idea take over his handsome face. “And then we can just see where it takes us. No rush, no pressure.”

His eyes darkened as he smiled, a new sort of smile you hadn’t seen before. It made you press your thighs together under the table. “No rush,” he repeated, “but I’ve been wanting to kiss you, too,” he said, voice low and warm. He moved to stand. “Let’s go.”

…

Marcus stepped up close behind you at your door, and you smiled at the feeling of his warm body almost touching yours. His hand came to rest on your waist and you shivered.

You finally managed to unlock the door and he followed you in.

So quickly it made your head spin, Marcus turned and pressed you up against the inside of your door. you gasped. His chest was just as broad and firm as you’d thought, and he held you easily in place, right where he wanted you. You marveled at his sudden confidence – it looked very good on him.

“Hi there, beautiful,” he murmured, looking down at your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” you breathed. Before you could say anything else, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

Marcus’s lips were warm, and soft, and his kiss was slow and gentle. It seeped into you and you felt his warmth light you up from the inside.

Your hands found his hips and you tugged him forwards until your bodies were touching from shoulder to knee. He moaned lightly, into your mouth, and suddenly his kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.

It was fierce. Your head was spinning as you opened your mouth to him and felt his tongue stroke along yours.

His thigh came to rest between yours and you shivered.

“Marcus,” you sighed, breaking the kiss. He pressed soft kisses along your cheek and jaw before he let his head drop to your shoulder.

“You feel perfect against me, you know that?” His voice sounded almost hoarse, and you wrapped your arms around his waist. His sweater was soft and it made you smile. His right hand was flat against the door by your head but his left came up to cup your jaw and neck. “Shit, sweetheart. You’re perfect.”

You pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “I’m not perfect,” you laughed.

He shook his head against your shoulder. “Feels pretty perfect.” He thrust his hips forward and pressed his thigh against you more firmly. You moaned.

You felt Marcus huff a small laugh against your shoulder and pulled back to eye him. “What?”

He was smiling. “It’s nothing.” He shook his head as you raised your eyebrow, still confused. “I was just thinking how lucky I am that my coffee machine broke that day. Never would have met you, otherwise.”

You felt your face relax as you smiled back and leaned in for another soft kiss. “Sounded like it was on its last legs, from what you told me.”

He laughed again, and you grinned. “It was. RIP, Mr. Coffee, and thank you for your timely death.”

You hummed. “I like to think I would have found you, anyway. Maybe on another day at the Box.”

Marcus pressed forward and buried his face in your neck again. You felt his soft kisses working their way down to your shoulder and shivered. “Yeah? How?”

You shrugged and he nipped at your shoulder. “Just feels right, you know? I felt it the moment I met you.” You leaned your head to the side and he took advantage, worrying a mark at the spot where it met your shoulder. It made you squirm and his grip on you tightened. “Like I’d found something I’d been looking for, and didn’t even know it.”

He lifted his head again and the look in his eyes made your breath catch in your throat. “I know exactly what you mean, sweetheart. You woke me up when you almost knocked me over.” He grinned, teasing you.

“What do you mean?” You lifted one of your hands and let your fingers trail through his hair.

He leaned into it, smiling. “I’ve been… asleep. Living the same day, over and over again. And then I met you, and it’s like I’m awake for the first time since Missy left. Before that, probably.” He leaned forward and kissed you, gently. “You woke me up,” he repeated. You smiled, surprised and pleased that you’d had such an effect on him, too.

Marcus kissed you again, and for a while after that there wasn’t a lot of talking. You could only manage his name, and please, and don’t stop.

He didn’t.

...

a/n: 🥰

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x f!reader #marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno #pedro pascal character fanfiction #x reader #awake fic

94 notes · View notes

iwillstabyou · 20 hours ago

Text

TMAGP 31 - A Computer Nerd’s Breakdown Of The Error Logs

It’s round 3, bitches! (tumblr crashed twice when I was writing this so I’ve had to start again multiple times. I do in fact see the irony, considering the subject matter)

I was listening to TMAGP 31 and as a computer nerd, oh my god those error messages just HIT DIFFERENT. There are so many subtle details hiding in those lines that a typical non-computery person would probably miss, so I feel it is my duty to explain them and their possible implications. So that’s why I’ve decided to fully break down each part of the error report, complete with what they could potentially suggest — think of this as “the TMAGP theorist’s guide to deciphering Chester’s yapping”

So without further ado, let’s get this party started…

(NOTE: lines from the transcript are in red, ‘translations’ are in purple, jmj specific stuff is is green, explanations are in black)

Starting off with Category: fatal programmer error, notice it says programmer, not program. There is nothing wrong with the code - the user has truly fucked up. Uh oh, Colin has made a big mistake…

Also, clever double meaning here with the word fatal. Obviously we know it was fatal to Colin (RIP king 🥲), but error logs also typically have a criticality level describing if immediate action needs to be taken. There are 6 commonly used levels, with the most critical being, yep you guessed it, ‘fatal’ - this means that whatever Colin was doing was a critical threat to the system. In other words, Colin had figured out the problem and was dangerously close to fixing it so Freddie just went “oh shit, we need to deal with this guy quickly or we are in serious trouble.”

Then we’ve got the next line, attempted host compromise (the Errno611 isn’t significant - error codes vary from system to system). When it comes to network terminology, a host is basically just any device on the network, so in full this line basically means “somebody’s tried to damage part of the network.” Importantly, “host” seems to suggest that the computers aren’t the source of this evil but merely a vessel for it. Freddie is just the mouthpiece for these supernatural forces - a bit like a non-sentient (as far as we know…) avatar. Whatever these forces are, they didn’t come from within/they weren’t created by Freddie.

(NOTE: I will come back to jmj=null in a bit)

The program traceback, Traceback <module> by extension BECHER, is rather interesting. A network extension is a way of providing network access to remote users (think along the lines of a VPN) by creating a personal direct ‘route’ to the network. Therefore if it’s the subject of an error report, it means there’s been an issue with data transmission along that path. So this bit means “there’s a problem with this specific network route that’s allocated to Colin.” However, the darker implication here is that Colin is an extension of Freddie. Although he wasn’t initially a part of all of this, he’s become tangled in the web (no pun intended) to the point that he and Freddie are inseparably intertwined. The OIAR employees may be able to quit their jobs, but they’ll still be a part of Freddie…

There isn’t much to say about Host=self.host in this context. It’s just convention when it comes to object oriented programming. Not important here.

Extension BECHER compromised isn’t just saying “there’s an issue here.” It’s saying “there’s an issue here that is a serious threat to network operation.” In other words, Freddie’s going “uh oh. Colin needs to be dealt with.”

The next bit is pretty self explanatory. I really don’t think I need to explain what <hardware damage_crowbar> means for you guys to understand. This bit made me laugh so hard. One thing that’s interesting though is that it gave it a DPHW, so Freddie processed this like it was an incident… Perhaps this fully confirms that the ‘thing’ controlling Freddie is of the same origin as the cases - it’s not something else entirely?

And now onto Administrator privilege revoked. This was the moment when I fully realised “oh no. Colin is fucked,” because any control that Colin may have had over the situation is now gone for good. Freddie’s basically just said “fuck you Colin. You’re not in charge anymore. I am.”

As you can probably guess, Unexpected data isolated/resolved just means that the crowbar’s been dealt with and the program can run as usual. Similarly, the Colin threat is fixed now he’s not an administrator i.e. he can no longer control the system. However, it then gets weird with Independent operation permissions revoked… It’s not saying Colin can’t use the network independently, it’s saying that Colin can’t be used independently of the network. Remember what I was saying earlier about Colin being a part of Freddie? Yeah, well now he purely is a part of Freddie. They’re turning our boy into data!

NOTE: I know in the audio it said everything was discarded but I’m going by the transcript. Idk why they’re different

You know it’s a bad sign when you hear Re config: self.host - Freddie’s evolving. The network is literally reconfiguring itself to now include Colin. And then Freddie goes through each of his alchemical elements one by one and fucking deletes them! How rude. You go and eat this man only to spit everything out!? I guess he’s feeling generous though, because he decides to keep the sulphur, which in alchemy, refers to the soul… If this isn’t just a coincidence, then that means Colin’s actual soul has been uploaded to Freddie. That could be really cool. And messed up. But mostly cool.

Starting with the final line, everyone knows what New administrator permissions assigned means, but we don’t know yet who they’ve been assigned to. Maybe it’s Gwen? Maybe it’s a new character? Maybe there is no system administrator anymore? It’s a mystery.

Now that’s out the way, let’s get on to the real juicy stuff…

The top few lines are pretty simple - it’s Freddie’s way of saying “Colin was a problem. We ate him. Now he’s not a problem anymore.” The next line, however, is a reminder that none of this is simple” - .jmj error not resolved. There it is again. The infamous jmj error. What does it mean? Jon? Martin? Jonah? Is that you???? Nobody knows. One thing we do know though is that jmj=null (from the start of the error log). Now when it comes to interpreting values, null is weird. It’s not zero, it’s not empty, it’s sort of nothing but it’s not nothing. It’s just null. It means no value, but it doesn’t mean that the variable doesn’t have a value (if that makes any sense to you guys???). Ooh I think I know how to explain it?? Imagine you’re Jonathan Sims, head archivist of the Magnus Institute and you’re digitising some archived ID photos when you find one without a name. The recorded name in the database would be null - you can’t put anything in particular, but that doesn’t mean the person in the photo doesn’t have a name. I guess null means unknown or missing here. So basically, what jmj=null means is that the jmj is unknown and that is a problem because it can’t get ignored/it is important. So what it’s basically saying is that jmj is a mystery not only to us, but also to Freddie.

Take a look at Data integration cycle ongoing <0.02%> - Data integration is the process of combining data from multiple sources into a single source of truth. There are 4 stages: data ingestion, cleaning, transformation, and unification. Thanks to the whole Colin ordeal, I’m sure you are all quite familiar with these stages by now (and that, students, is what we call a case study!). The peculiar thing here though is that we’ve just witnessed most of the data integration cycle - surely it should be higher than 0.02%? Yes, that’s correct. It should be far higher than that. It makes no sense. UNLESS this isn’t about Colin. Most of Colin’s data has probably already integrated. This is something else entirely - something so much bigger and foreign than these computers were designed for (the only comparison I can think of is trying to run the sims 4 with all expansion packs on a 15 year old laptop. It really shouldn’t work, and it probably won’t, but it’s gonna try regardless). This seems to follow on nicely from the jmj=null comments above, because Freddie is clearly struggling to integrate something (hence System function margins down to 82%), and when you try to read data that hasn’t been fully integrated with the system, you end up with a lot of missing & unknown values. Sound familiar? Yep, that’s right - until more data is synchronised, many values will be null, like our good friend jmj. Why is it taking so long to integrate jmj? We don’t know. Perhaps its origins are so supernatural and otherworldly that it’s simply not tangible enough for Freddie to process it? That’s what I think at the moment, at least.

So yeah, that’s my line by line analysis done! Hope you found that helpful/interesting. This podcast is so well written I’m actually going insane! Jonny and Alex, you are the guys of all time! As I’ve already said, feel free to expand on any of this - I’d love to hear your theories

Signed, your friendly neighbourhood computer nerd who is very autistic about TMAGP :)

83 notes · View notes

nanamisgirly · 2 days ago

Text

PLEASE, STAY

↪ ( ˶ a part of you wants to scream that yes, you did care. you still do. that you were just too afraid to stay. but you do none of that. instead, you do the only thing you're good at, you walk away. and he lets you. for mere seconds, he lets you leave— again. and then you hear him “don't you fucking do this again.” his voice isn't a plea, it's a command. for a moment, you think that he won't let you go. that maybe—just maybe—he'll grab your wrist, yank you back, force you to deal with this. but he doesn't. because he still wants you to choose him. and you never do.˵ )

pairing ᥫ᭡。richman!Gojo x bodyguard reader. they had a sort of situation ship before.

content ᥫ᭡。fem!reader, no curses au, they're both around 30, smut at the very end, very provocative gojo (?), mean reader ig, a lot of cursing, angst, oral sex, unprotected p in v sex, mention of blood, fights scenes, broken bones, pet name (mostly sweetheart and once baby), sexual tension, slow burn, explicit language, explicit content, power dynamics, military mention (mild ptsd), gun mentions

word count ᥫ᭡。13k

notes ᥫ᭡。this is for my 200 followers 🥹 thank you for all the reblogs they are very very much appreciated!! I didn't know where I was going with this fic lmao, I just hope that some of you will enjoy reading it! I'm always open to feed back :))) be mindful this is my first long (?) fic, I threw some stuff together and hoped for the best oops

you were assigned to gojo saturo. of all the men you could possibly protect, it had to be him— you're ex-friend with benefits.

you sat across from him at a table that probably cost more than your entire apartement, fingers twitching under the weight of irritation. the upscale place was dimly lit, the kind meant for quiet luxury.

“you both understood?” your superior asked, sharp gaze flickering between the two of you. Gojo grinned, the same playful smirk on his annoyingly handsome face. the past nine years had only done him favors, he'd grown taller— making him tall like a damn tower— his features sharper, his frame broader. 'maybe he'd been training' you thought. ‘or it’s just life sculpting him into something even more irritatingly perfect.'

you left him when things started to be serious. back then, Gojo had some difficulties to understand he was just a sex friend. but it didn't really matter, you had to leave for the military anyway.

for a long time, you didn't want to process feelings, attachments— that was just bullshit. and now, nine years later, somehow, you were right back where you started.

you retired from the military after sustaining severe injuries. but you still craved the thrill— fights, missions, the adrenaline rush. it kept you on track. like drugs, you were addicted. so you became a sort of bodyguard. over the years, you had protected royals, rich heirs, celebrities— anyone with a target on their back. it owned you the reputation as being the best in your field. you were ruthless, cold-blooded, killing without hesitation if needed.

your face remained stoic, your gaze locked onto gojo as he held yours. “yeah, got it. babysit the rich brat until the gala's over.” you mocked, leaning back against the chair.

satoru chuckled, he couldn't help but tease you “oh, come on now. you make it sound so boring” tilting his head like a cat toying with its prey. “i thought you'd be happy to spend some time with an old friend”

you scoffed. “friend is a strong word, Gojo” that response only fueled his mischief. “you're right” he crosses his arms as he continues “we were never just friends” insufferable brat. “i'm here to do my job. nothing more” you said without a hint of emotion in your tone, fixing him with a glare that should've shut him up.

it didn't.

his piercing blue eyes gleamed with amusement “of course, sweetie," he purred, resting his elbows on the table, leaning in “just admit you missed seeing my beautiful face.”

you exhaled sharply, already exhausted 'maybe a small knife pressed against his throat wouldn't hurt— just a little warning.'

“what i miss, is protecting some quiet person who knows their limits and let me do my damn job in peace. this, is what i truly miss”. Gojo hummed, shamelessly dragging his gaze over you “personally, i missed that sharp tongue of yours.”

“alright, enough,” your superior cut in, his tone serious— a clear warning that he had no patience for the ridiculous back-and-forth between you two. “stay close at all times. there are threats left and right against him leading up to the gala.” he turned his attention to gojo “you don't act up, and you listen to whatever she tells you.” the rich man was clearly enjoying himself “don't worry, i love when she bosses me around” he winked at you before standing up and leaving the restaurant. like this was all a game to him.

your superior exhaled heavily, already bracing for the headache to come. then, he dropped the next bomb. “you need to stay at his place.”

you try your best to keep a straight face. “what?”

“gojo is already informed. you're moving in tonight.” and with that, he left the table, leaving you seething.

your fist met with the surface with a dull thud. “damn it,” you muttered, frustration curling hot in your chest.

this is going to be a long, long week.

──────-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

you rode to gojo's house, spending the time to talk yourself down. you had spent years perfecting your composure. you had survived war zones, assassinations, and high-profile threats. there was no reason for gojo fucking satoru to get under your skin.

and yet.

his house— no, his mansion— was perched high above the city, a fortress of sleek glass and security. the driveway alone was bigger than some of the safe houses you'd stayed in.

when you pulled up to his gates, the night was well-advanced, the cold biting at your cheeks as you lifted up your helmet. you met some guards at the entrance stating that gojo was expecting you. of course, he was.

the second you stepped through the doors, the place smelled ridiculously expensive. the living room was massive, with a sunken seating area surrounding a glass-enclosed firepit. there are floor-to-celling windows stretched across the space, offering a panoramic view of the glittering cityscape below. a massive, curved staircase led to the second floor, the railings lined with soft, glowing, light strips, guiding the way up.

the place screamed luxury— unapologetically extravagant, but with taste. just like satoru gojo.

you sighed, rolling the tension from your shoulders as you tugged off your gloves. the ride had been long. your muscles ached. your motorbike uniform clung to you, slightly damp with sweat. all you wanted was a shower and some sleep.

“you're so sexy in that uniform” his voice came from above. you looked up to find him leaning against the railing, messy white hair, sleeves rolled up to reveal toned forearms, collarbone peeking through his loose neckline of his shirt.

and that goddamn smirk.

“gojo,” you warned, voice firm. he ignored it entirely, blue eyes twinkling as they dragged over you with zero shame. “seriously, bending you over in it wouldn't be so bad.” your fingers twitched. satoru in all his splendor.

“wouldn't be so bad if i curb-stomped you into the floor.” you respond. gojo restrained a laugh, eyes sparking with mirth. he fucking loved this— pushing your limits. “actually, i wouldn't mind that either” you grit your teeth at the comment. “just show me where my fucking room is."

when you reached him, he let out a dramatic sigh, “not even a little peck before sleep, sweetheart?” you blankly stared at him “alright, no need to look at me with so much love” he ironically says as he turned around, leading you to your room.

──────-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

4am. the digital clock glowed dimly as you pounded your fists against the heavy bag. you slept only two hours— which, honestly was decent considering you never slept well. the military had drilled into the art of light, vigilant rest, training you to snap into action as the slightest disturbance. and staying here, with gojo just down the hall, only worsened that already unstable peace.

“fuck it” your fist connected with the training bag, a loud thud echoing through the empty gym. you did a home tour by your own after gojo dropped you to your bedroom— and to your relief, you found a fully equipped training room. exactly what you needed to burn off frustration time to time.

sweats dripped down your temple, muscles burning from exertion as you moved with precision and force, the heavy bag jerking with each impact. your t-shirt had been abandoned long ago—tossed to the side as the heat from training built up—leaving you in nothing but sports bra and low-slung sweatpants.

“gojo, are you going to stay there for long?” you snapped as he stayed put in the doorway, thinking you hadn't noticed him those past fifteen minutes, arms crossed like he had all the time in the world. he grinned, unbothered “was testing if you could notice a threat even while distracted” you snorted “well, now that you oh-so-sweetly reassured yourself, could you fuck off?” your fist slammed onto the bag harder, sending it swinging violently.

you felt gojo's eyes on you, it almost burnt holes on your skin. his eyes darted at the sweat slipping on your back. “damn," his voice was low “i think i prefer you like this— hot, sweaty, breathless.” he insisted on the last word. your eyes flicked to his figure as he took slow steps forward. “i think i like you gone.” he clicked his tongue, tilting his head as if you disappointed him “why always so hostile? i could be way more helpful than that punching ball.”

you were too fucking exhausted for this, your next punch sent the bag flying so violently it nearly knocked over the weight rack. you caught it with one of your wrapped hand, fingers tightening around the worn leather. you exhaled sharply, preparing yourself to face gojo and his bullshit. “i swear satoru—” you stepped closer to him, closing the space between you. only to realize how stupidly tall he was up close. you weren't small but standing like this— with a solid eight inches between you— made you feel very tiny next to him.

“satoru," he repeats “it's been a while since you've said my name. say it again” he leaned in, eyes lazily tracing your lips, the small hairs at the back of your neck sticking to your skin, your full breasts pressed tight against your sports bra. a strong desire lingering in his eyes as he imagined licking every drop of your sweat. he tested your patience “you know,” he murmured “i really love this view.”

and that was it, you had enough. in no time you grabbed him, hooked your arm, and flipped his ass over your shoulder— slamming him onto the floor. before he could react, you were on him, your thighs straddling his hips, your hand wrapped around his throat. gojo eyes widened in shock— he did not expect that. but the surprise was soon enough replaced by a slow curl of his lips.

“fuck,” he chocked out “that was hot, sweetheart.” you tightened your grip around his neck “gojo, you're a fucking perv.” you felt something hard pressing between your legs. “i'm just a man." he lifted his hand, acting innocent "you kept bouncing around that bag, how could i not get some ideas?”

the worst part of all those stuff is that you were turned on by all his teasing. your panties dampened any time he made a comment over the little talk you both had in those past ten hours.

“gojo, you're a total pathetic man,” you mutter rolling your hips down harder, closing your thighs firmly around him just to hurt a little more. his pupils blown wide and his lips part sightly— that fucking bastard was loving it. “y-yeah, pathetic” he chokes out “i- i'm a- a very p-pathetic m-man." your panties were so damn soaked by now as his length presses sinfully against your core. you refuse to acknowledge the feelings, you don't need it, you don't need him, you don't need to go back to him.

you release his throat with a final squeeze, eyes heavy, dragging your fingers down his heavy chest— feeling the hard ridges of muscle tense under your touch, before you push yourself up and off him. you see his hips twitching up, as if he was chasing the missing heat of your pussy. gojo let out a broken— needy whimper, as you adjust your waistband and roll your shoulders back, trying to gather your thoughts. ignoring the aching pulse between your legs.

your feet leading you to the door. you throw one last glance to gojo, you can see his erection straining against his pants from where you stand, aching to be taken care of— gojo's features twisting in desperation. “be ready at eight a.m. We've got recon to do.” and with that, you leave him there, fighting the urge to go back inside and kiss him senseless.

──────-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

the ride to the venue is longer than necessary with gojo whom insisted on riding with you. you should have known better than accepting his demand. he can not keep his hand to himself.

at first, his hands rested innocently on your stomach, but as soon as you took off, he let them slide lower, palm resting on your inner thighs— fingers tracing circles way too close to your core. the vibrations of the bike only make it worse.

at the next red light, you snap your hand down, gripping his wrist. “keep your hands to yourself” you warn him “either way i'll have to cut them off” his chest rumbles with laughter against your back. “what if i don't want to?” you hear his teasing voice through the speaker of your helmet “you're never asking about what i want, sweetheart.” his hands squeezing you through your pants. “i think i'm gonna kick your ass off the bike. go to hell that damn mission” your jaw tightened, ‘why does he have to make everything so difficult’

the light turns green and you don't hesitate to accelerate like a damn crazy— earning some curses from gojo, his arms wrapping around you, his thighs locking firmly against yours. once he accommodate to the speed, he's laughing, slightly enjoying the way you speed down the street like you're trying to outrun the heat pooling between your legs.

you parked in front of the luxurious hotel, one of the most extravagant hotels in the city by the way. the gala will be held there, a beautiful place— a perfect representation of gojo's wealth and arrogance. “gorgeous place, huh?” he muses. “maybe we should get a room after the mission, to celebrate our teamwork.” you swing your leg off smoothly, ignoring him as you unbuckle your helmet.

when you step inside, multiple people are working on the preparations— setting up tables, adjusting lighting, and fussing over floral arrangements. you walk straight past them, heading toward the ballroom where the gala will take place. the room is massive— high ceilings with floor-to-ceiling glass windows, multiple balconies. it's beautiful, but a logistical nightmare for security. too many places to hide, too many potential vantage points for a sniper.

gojo lets out a low whistle, walking a step behind, hands in his pockets— acting like a damn tourist instead of a man with an actual bounty on his head. you walk past the ballroom, letting him doing whatever he is. you head toward the back corridors, checking the service entrances, mapping out the security offices. The staff is too busy setting up to pay you much attention— except for the occasional glance at gojo, probably wondering if he's some high-profile guest.

then something shifts. a group of security personnel moves in, just a little too fast. too coordinated. you recognize the stance immediately— trained, disciplined. not just the hotel staff. your instincts scream at you, your feet move before your mind fully catches up— you step toward gojo to warn him…and that's when you see it. a figure in the hallway, gun raised. aimed directly at gojo's head.

your body moves before your brain processes. you twist on your heel, muscles coiled, and throw your knife. it slices through the air, and the second it buries itself deep in the shooter's forearm, he lets out a sharp yell, his aim faltering. it's all you need. you charge.

your combat boots barely make a sound as you sprint toward the shooter. you're on him before he even recovers, grabbing his wrist and twisting it outward— hard.

POP. he screams, his shoulder socket dislocating from the brutal angle, the gun slipping from his fingers. your knee flies up, slamming into his sternum. you feel his ribs shift under the impact, his breath leaving him in choked gasp before you shove him aside like trash.

“holy shit—” gojo starts, but you don't hear the rest as you see three more attackers already closing in. one of them lunges with a knife— fast, trained. but so are you. you shift sideways at the last second, grabbing his wrist mid-swipe. then in a brutal motion, you twist. his own blade sinks into his thigh. a strangled gurgle leaves his lips as he stumbles back, collapsing to his knees, clutching the handle buried in his leg.

suddenly you feel arms wrapping around your waist, lifting you from the floor. you snap your head back, cracking the nose of your opponment with the force of a fucking hammer. blood sprays onto your shoulder and the wall. your fast to slam your elbow into his throat, his air supply instantly cut off, his body jerking as he crumples to the floor.

the last guy is bigger, stronger— seems to be military trained from the way he moves. but that doesn't matter, you've had to deal with fiercer men before. when he's close enough, you drop low— leg swings out in a sweeping arc. CRACK.

his legs are ripped out from under him. he fall onto his back, gasping for air. you don't let him breathe, your fist driving down, once.

twice, three times.

the last punch bursts his lip open, blood dripping down his chin. your fingers wrap around his throat. you lean in close, sweat dripping down your temple, eyes heavy of the need to kill. “you fucked with the wrong person.” you hear a broken noise coming from his lung. you tighten your grip.

and then— clapping.

you whip around, chest heaving. and there stands gojo, grinning like the devil himself “well, well, well.” he whistles, stepping over the bodies of the men you just demolished. “i gotta admit, that was fucking sexy” your brain is still catching up, heart pulsing with adrenaline “what the hell is wrong with you?” you snap. “we almost got fucking assassinated.”

his grin deepens. “sweetheart…” he crouches down, tilting his head. “that wasn't an assassination.”

you freeze. you hope it's not what you think it is.

he gestures lazily at the unconscious men. “that was a test.” he lifts his shoulders, unbothered. “wanted to be sur you still got it” he winks, amused.

your blood runs hot. “a test?” gojo shrugs, way too casual for someone who just watched you beat the absolute shit out of four men. his gaze drags over you— knuckles bloodied, chest rising and falling hard— and his smirk only widens.

you don't think much as you launch at him, fury taking over— fully prepared to knock that smug grin off his face for good. but this time, he's ready. he catches your wrist mid-swing. “no, no,” he purrs, his grip tightening just enough to make you aware of his strength. “play nice.” your free hand grabs the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer “fuck you and your stupid games," you spit "i can't wait for this week to end.” you see red.

gojo's amused eyes faded into something darker. his eyes once playful, turn sharp, dangerous. “and what?" his voice is low, cold— jaw clenched so tightly it might break. "leave like you did nine years ago?” his face inches closer, his warm breath hitting your skin. “leaving without a second look?” your stomach twists. he's standing too close— looking at you like he wants to rip you apart.

your chest rises and falls sharply. your body is still burning from the fight, but this— this is worse. you rip your wrist from his grasp, shoving him hard enough that he stumbles back a step. and he laughs. an empty laugh, far from his usual cocky, full-bodied laugh. “that's all you ever fucking do, huh?” his voice is sharp. “run.” you flinch, ever so sightly. but he sees it. and he seems satisfied ‘i finally got a reaction out of her.’

"i didn't have a choice". you force the words out, voice controlled. gojo's expression darkens. “bullshit, you always had a choice.” he steps forward, and this time, you don't move back. if he punched you, it will be well-deserved. you wouldn't dodge it. his fist on your face would hurt less than the words coming out of his mouth.

“you just didn't choose me.” your heart stops, feeling something inside you cracks. but you don't want him to see it. so, as much as you hate what you're about to say, you steel yourself and let it out “what, you think i owed you something?” the words taste bitter, burning your tongue even as they leave your mouth.

gojo's lips parts, but nothing comes out at first. then quietly— too fucking quietly “no.” his voice is ragged, raw. “but i thought you cared.” you feel it like a punch to the gut. gojo never says things like this. he surely is all teasing remarks and well-placed avoidance but never is he a looking like you ruined him. like you destroyed a part no one could ever rebuild— except… you.

a part of you wants to scream that yes, you did care. you still do. that you were just too afraid to stay. but you do none of that. instead, you do the only thing you're good at, you walk away. and he lets you.

for mere seconds, he lets you leave— again. but then you hear him “don't you fucking do this again.” his voice isn't a plea, it's a command. for a moment, you think that he won't let you go. that maybe—just maybe—he'll grab your wrist, yank you back, force you to deal with this. but he doesn't.

because he still wants you to choose him. and you never do.

──────-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

the ride back home is fine. if fine meant quiet, tense, and filled with too much unsaid shit hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break. then yeah, it is fine.

gojo didn't pull his usual antics— no wandering hands, no teasing remarks. just silence. his hands stay firmly on his own thighs, gripping the edges of the seat. and somehow that irritates you even more.

you can feel the weight of his gaze the entire ride back, burning into the back of your head like a brand. he doesn't speak, but his presence is suffocating.

by the time you pull up to his estate, he gets off the bike before you can even kill the engine. his movements are sharp, jaw clenched, shoulders tense. for a moment, he just stands there, staring at you, like he's debating something. you stare back, chest rising and falling with the remnants of adrenaline still buzzing through your veins.

but then, with a low scoff, he turns on his heels, and heads inside without a word. you don't follow. not immediately. taking a moment for yourself. trying to gather back your composure.

you stay seated on your bike, hands tightening around the handlebars, knuckles white. heart pounding like a war drum against your ribs. the wind bites at your skin, but it's nothing compared to the cold settling in your chest.

──────-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

the next day is spent preparing for the gala. you go over the blueprints of the venue again, double-checking entrance and exist, every potential blind spot.

the chaos from yesterday has been cleaned up— not a single trace of the fight remains. the bloodied bodies have been taken care of, the shattered glass replaced with pristine tables, the blood smeared across the walls scrubbed away as if it never existed. as if it was nothing more than a fever dream.

you analyze the guest list, looking for possible threats. you argue with gojo about security placements, mostly because he doesn't take anything seriously. “take a look at this. tell me if you recognize anyone shady.” the tall man barely glances at the screen before muttering, “they're all shady.” you roll your eyes "that's not helpful." he shrugs, stepping toward the grand windows. “i don't really care.” that pisses you off. “gojo, could you at least pretend to care?” you put a hand on your hips, patience thinning.

he exhales through his nose, barely sparing you glance over his shoulder. and then, with a calmness that cuts deeper than yelling ever could, he says, “you're the one who didn't care, remember?” and that shuts you up.

he doesn't wait for your response, doesn't push, doesn't linger. just clasps his hands behind his back, taking a slow tour of the ballroom, his gaze dragging over the chandeliers, the polished floors, the extravagant decor— all while completely ignoring you.

the gala is tomorrow.

and you don't know if you're ready.

──────-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

morning comes too soon. you barely slept, torn between the looming mission ahead and the cold, unbearable silence that had settled between you and gojo. since that night at the hotel, it had been nothing but tension— thick, suffocating, unspoken. a battlefield of sidelong glances, clipped conversations, and empty spaces where words should have been. especially your words. words of regrets.

and now, as you sit stiffly across from gojo on his sleek leather couch, arms crossed so tightly your nails bite into your skin, it's clear nothing has changed. he doesn't look at you. he hasn't since that night. since those words left his mouth, cutting deeper than any blade you took.

your superior clears his throat, dragging you back to the present. his voice clipped, all business. “you'll be attending as a couple.” the words slam into you like a wrecking ball.“you're kidding” you say flatly, glaring at your superior. “no,” he says simply. and you hear gojo letting out a laugh. the sound sends cold down your spine.

“it's the best cover. gojo is a known public figure, and he's expected to bring someone. you, on the other hand, aren't on anyone's radar. it's the perfect excuse to keep you close and avoid suspicion.” you shake your head. “there has to be another way.” you bite the inside of your cheek, gripping your own arms as if that'll keep you from exploding. this is a fucking disaster. “there isn't.”

fucking hell.

how are you supposed to play lovers when everything between you is broken, shattered, and stitched back together with nothing but avoidance? you can feel gojo's eye on you, but you refuse to meet them. you already know what he's thinking. that you well-deserved that. that you were the one who ran away from him nine years ago, without any explanations.

your jaw locks as you finally risk a glance at him. he's watching you, studying you. blue glacial eyes pinning you in place. then slowly, he tilts his head. lips curling into a grin. “well,” his voice low, with something dark. “this should be fun.”

the moment your superior is done talking, you push yourself off the couch and stride toward your room, your pulse hammering too fast. it's too much.

the air is still charged, like static before a storm. even more now that you know you're going as a couple. behind you, gojo doesn't say a word. he doesn't try to stop you either. of course, he doesn't.

you try to convince yourself it's easier this way. easier to act like none of it matters. like the past isn't clinging to both of you with bloodied, desperate hands.

the second the door clicks shut behind you, you let out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. the tension in your shoulders lingers, pressing your forehead against the door. 'focus' you tell yourself. tonight is business, the mission comes first. it's not about him— not about your feelings.

you step into the bathroom, turning the shower knob. water rushed out, steam filling the space almost instantly. hot, scalding— exactly what you need. you peel off your clothes, letting them drop carelessly to the floor before stepping inside.

the first touch of water burns, but you don't move away. instead, you welcome it. let it wash over you, over your skin, over the lingering heat still trapped in your body from the way gojo looked at you earlier. your hands slide over your arms, down your sides, over the curves of your body, the pressure firm as if you could scrub away the past— him.

the water runs through your hair, down your back, down your thighs, and still, you can't shake the way your body remembers him. the way it still reacts to the mere idea of him. it pisses you off. your fingers tighten into fists before you force yourself to exhale, resting your forehead against the cool tile. you stay like this for a while. letting the water scald you, hoping it can burn out the thing still curling inside your chest, still whispering his name in the back of your mind.

by the time you finally step out, steam curls around the mirror, the bathroom thick with heat. you wrap yourself in a towel, sighing as you push the door open. as you step closer to the bed, you notice a box on your bed. black, sleek, expensive. your breath catches for a second, it's not hard to guess who left it. you approach it slowly, a wary sort of anticipation buzzing under your skin.

on the box, a note. a small, folded piece of paper with gojo's handwriting.

‘’ sweetheart, i can't let you ruin my reputation with those cheap dresses you own. i have an image to maintain, after all. a rich man can't have people thinking he's poor. wear this. — satoru ‘’

your breath stutters for a second. sweetheart. something in your chest tightens, flutters, pounds. you crush it, fight it. with steady hands, you set the note aside and lift the lid of the box— and you freeze.

the dress inside is breathtaking. it's a shade of blue so deep, so striking— the same as his eyes. you swallow, fingertips ghosting over the fabric. it's impossibly smooth, slipping through your fingers like liquid, designed to mold to every curve, to hug your body like a second skin. a dress that demands attention. you take it out of the box and immediately notice the back. or rather, the lack of one. the fabric dips dangerously low. with a sort of thin white belt that wraps behind your neck, fastening at the nape before cascading down in a delicate, tantalizing line. tracing your vertebral column. a seductive dress, yet functional enough to fight in case.

you return your attention to the box. your eyes widen as you see a pair of underwear. a soft filthy shade of blue, slightly lighter than the dress delicate and teasing. the panties are sheer in all the wrong places, practically see-through, the thin straps barely qualifying as fabric. offering little to the imagination. there's subtle glittering embellishments, catching the light just enough to draw eye.

just enough to drive a man insane. your throat runs dry. that fucking bastard.

you dig further into the box, only to find jewelry. a necklace so fine it barely feels real, elegant enough to steal attention. earrings that shimmer subtly, matching perfectly with the delicate bracelet nestled beside them.

everything about this is so intimate. you hate that your heart still reacts, that your fingers tremble slightly as you lift the necklace, as you let the fabric of the dress slip between your fingers. every single piece was selected with intent. this isn't just a gift, it's a statement.

gojo satoru is back at it again. back to his games. back to this push and pull. he's testing your limits once again. you need to show him, you need to keep your bold cold. mission. mission then next… gojo.

──────-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

8:17 p.m. you see as you finish getting ready. adrenaline rushing through your veins. your hands move on mechanism, fastening the holster around your thigh before slipping the small firearm into place, the slit of your dress perfectly concealing it. since gojo is the host, there won't be any security checks for you at the entrance.

you allow yourself one final breath, steadying your pulse as your hand move to the door handle. tonight, your job is to protect him. nothing more.

you push the door open, and nothing could have prepared you for what is waiting for you. in front of you stand an anxious gojo, fixing his suit jacket, smoothing the fabric before his fingers nervously reach up to adjust his tie.

your breath hitches. the tie he's fumbling with is the exact same shade as your dress— his signature blue, the color of his eyes, the color that haunts your dream more often than you'd like to admit. his scent hits your nose, flooding your senses. something fresh, subtly spiced. it messes with your head, makes it hard to focus. his hair a little bit messy, like he's been running his hands through it while waiting for who knows how long.

and when his eyes find yours, everything in you freezes.

gojo stays still. his usual teasing remark falter, no lazy smirk, no arrogance. just… silence as his gaze consumes you. it's like the weight of the last few days of distance disappears, and all that remains is the way the dress clings to your body.

“i-” he starts. “that's…you- i mean,” he shakes his head, trying to gather his thoughts. he takes a slow step forward, his hand reaching out. you don't hesitate, taking it in yours. his fingers are warm against yours, his grip tight, like he's afraid to let go. to let you go.

he gently turns you, his eyes trailing over the open expanse of your back. he swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. “what's happening, satoru?” you tease “you finally dare to look at me, after all the ignoring these pasts days?” you tilt your head back, lifting your chin to meet his eyes. even in your heels, you remain towered by him, his presence overwhelming. gojo's eyes betray something deep— pain, maybe regret.

“sweetheart…” he murmurs, pulling you closer by the hand that holds yours. the sudden motion takes you by surprise, a gasp leaving your lips as your body crashes into his. “you have no idea what you do to me.” gojo growls softly. the heat of his body pressing against yours, makes you weak. you can't stop the way your breath hitches.

the word mission keeps echoing in your head. you shouldn't give in, not when he got so defensive, not when you still had walls built around you. “gojo,” you whispers as his eyes flickers to your lips. he leans in, his forehead touching yours, closing his eyes. “we need to figure it out.” he says simply. “give me a chance.” his hands grip your waist, molding your body to his. “tell me why you left, please.” his voice filled with a raw, aching honesty that make your heart drop.

your brain is racing at a thousand miles per hour, your pulse drumming in your ears. the connection between you two is palpable, undeniable. your hands go to the back of his head, tugging sightly his hair, making gojo groans. you breathe out his name, your lips just brushing against his “after the gala,” you murmur. “but let's go for now. we're running late.” you pull back but the heat remains. a pretty shade of pink creeps onto gojo's cheeks. the sight of it makes you smile.

you both reach the bottom of the stairs, and before you can move toward the door, gojo's voice calls out, low and filled with something close to mischief. “wait.”

you stop in your tracks, turning to look at him, and that playful smirk makes its comeback. he lifts your hands, then loosens his grip just enough to intertwine his fingers with yours. his eyes fixed on your face, watching for your reaction. “it's better like this,” he says, his voice mix of teasing and seriousness. “if we're playing couple, let's do it right,” he adds. you shake your head in disbelief, unable to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “satoru, let's go now." he opens the door, the cold night air hitting your skin “i love when you call me saturo, sweetheart.”

──────-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

the streets blur past, neon lights casting fleeting glows over his sharp features as he drives through the city. Gojo insisted on being the one to drive, choosing one of his luxurious car— not without making a comment on how it'd be nearly impossible to ride your bike in that dress but he'd gladly let you ride him in that dress.

the ride is quiet. not the comfortable kind, but the charged, suffocating kind. you can feel his eyes flicking toward you between red lights.

the hotel appears, tall and grand, its golden lights illuminating the massive entrance. unlike when you came checking security, the driveway is packed with luxury cars, men in tailored suits, women in gowns worth small fortunes. there're even photographers lining the barricades, flashes firing like relentless lighting.

despite your superior's briefing, you still feel nervous. of course you have attented events like this before to protect your clients, but never were you the center of attention.

suddenly, dodging bullets in a batteflied seems far less stressful than whatever the hell this masquerade is. at least, the car windows are tinted, giving you some more minutes.

gojo feels you tense up as he stops in front of the entrance. he turns to you, bringing a hand to cup your face, tilting your chin so you meet his gaze. “it's okay, sweetheart," his thumb traces soft, reassuring circles on your cheek. “i'm with you. focus on the job, okay?” then, with an easy smile, he steps out of the car.

the moment he does, you hear people calling his name, cameras clicking furiously. and gojo being gojo, steps out with that infuriating confidence, adjusting his cufflinks like he owns the damn place. pretty fucking bastard

gojo makes his way to your door before the valet even moves. he opens it himself, hand extended, waiting. and you can feel this is not only for the show. you let out a sharp exhales, taking his hand to get out of the car.

the moment your heels hit the ground, the flashes explode even brighter, voices pitching higher, demanding your attention. gojo's fingers intertwine with yours—firm, possessive—as he pulls you closer, leaning down just enough so only you can hear. “wanted to let you know,” his breath tickling your ear “knowing what's under this dress is no helpful to hide my boner in front of these photographers.”

before you can react, he presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your temple. then with the smooth ease of a man who knows exactly what he's doing, he lifts your hand to his lips and plants the softest kiss against you knuckles. “also, don't forget to smile.”

──────-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

inside, the gala is exactly what you expected— crystal chandeliers spilling molten gold over the sea of designer-clad elites, laughter too polished to be real, and conversations laced with unspoken agendas. the air is thick with expensive perfume and quit power plays.

gojo moves through it effortlessly, magnetic as ever. he plays the perfect host, flashing easy grins and exchanging pleasantries with people you couldn't care less about. you, on the other hand, remain sharp, scanning the room, keeping your senses on high alert.

or at least, you try.

it's hard to stay focused when you're super-aware of gojo's warmth. his palm resting low on your back, fingers tracing lazy, absentminded circles against your spine. his lips graze your temple as he leans in, voice low with some meaningless observation, but his breath is too warm, too deliberate. a shiver runs down your body.

the hours stretch on, an endless cycle of fake smiles and calculated small talk. the weight of the night starts pressing against your ribs, exhaustion creeping in. you need a moment.

“i'm getting us drinks,” you murmur, pulling away from gojo's touch, ignoring the way your body immediately protests the loss of warmth.

“how thoughtful of my wife” he teases, lips curling into something wicked. you almost fall to the floor, headfirst.

wife. the word comes too easily from his mouth, like it belongs there. you catch yourself liking it.

shaking off the heat starting to take over you, you weave through the crowd, reaching the refreshments table. your mind still lingers on gojo, your thoughts are full of him. you're convince you need him. you don't want to run anymore.

a shadow of a smile tugs at your lips.

when you turn back— two glasses of champagne in your hand— gojo is gone.

your pulse stumbles. your breath quickens, eyes scanning every corner, every exit. nothing. where the hell is he?

you shove the glasses onto the nearest table, ignoring the startled look of a waiter. your training urges you to stay calm, but panic claws at your throat. gojo isn't just your responsibility. he's—

focus.

you spot one of the security personnel near the ballroom's entrance, a stocky man with an earpiece and a sharp gaze. you stride toward him, voice low but urgent. “did you see gojo leave?” the man frowns slightly “he stepped out a few minutes ago. took the private elevator up.”

your stomach knots. “who was with him?”

“not sure. a few men. well-dressed.” fury spikes through you. 'and that didn't alarm you?' you could beat his ass off if it wasn't for gojo right now. where did they find those incompetent men.

spinning on your heel, you move fast, heart hammering. the gala's noise fades behind you as you push through the discreet hallway leading to the private elevators. the display shows it stopped on the roof.

your pulse spikes. you slam the button. nothing. locked.

“fuck” you mutter under your breath. you don't have time to wait. without hesitation, you head for the stairwell, heels be damned. you rip the gun from its hidden strap at your thigh and climb two steps at a time. the adrenaline burns away any exhaustion, pushing faster.

by the time you reach the the top, your breath is ragged. hand tight on your gun, you push the rooftop door open just enough to see—

and your blood turns to ice.

gojo stands near the edge, bathed in city lights, his white hair a stark contrast against the night. the wind howls between the buildings, the breeze fluttering his tie— the same shade of his eyes, the same shade of your dress.

his usual carefree stance betraying nothing, hands in his pocket like he's discussing business over whiskey rather than staring down the barrels of guns.

four men surround him. they're dressed too well to be common thugs, but you know better—real danger rarely looks the part. one of them, a broad-shouldered man with a jagged scar curving at the corner of his mouth, has his gun aimed directly at gojo's chest.

your grip tightens around your own gun.

and then gojo speaks. “i suggest you let me go,” he drawls, voice laced with amusement. “or my wife's going to rip you apart.” he smirks “also, we arranged we talk after the gala, to make things clear, i don't think she'd be very happy that you keep me for the night.”

the men exchange glances, unimpressed. scar-lips steps forward, a cruel smirk twisting his scar. “you're worth a lot, Satoru Gojo.” a ransom situation.

gojo pinches the bridge of his nose like they're giving him a headache. “look,” he starts, tilting his head slightly. “i don't know who sent you, but this is embarrassing. four of you? to handle me? if i were you, i'd start running before she gets pissed.”

they barely have a second to process his words before you make your move. you can't risk any longer. and gojo is doing perfectly at distracting them.

one breath. one shot.

you step out. aim. fire

the bullet buries itself into the shoulder of the man nearest gojo. he stumbles back with a pained grunt—

and gojo moves.

he moves faster then the wind whipping through the rooftop. in the time it takes for scar-lips to turn toward you, gojo there. a sickening crack echoes through the rooftop as gojo drives his elbow into the wide man's jaw with enough force to send him staggering. without pause, he pivots, driving a brutal kick into another's ribs. the crack is sickening.

you react instinctively, ducking behind an industrial vent as one of the men pulls a gun in your direction. another shot rings out— gojo's this time. he moves like liquid shadow, disarming one of the attackers with terrifying efficiency. the man barely has time to process that he's slammed into the ground.

scar-lips, despite his disoriented state, reaches for his gun again.

gojo doesn't let him. he's on him in a blink, gripping his wrist with an almost lazy ease before twisting it violently in the wrong direction. the man screams, his gun clattering to the floor. gojo doesn't let go. instead, he leans in, voice sickeningly sweet. “told you she'd be mad.”

you freeze. you've seen trained fighters. you are one. but this? this is something else. the speed, the precision, the sheer control— it's unsettling. suspicious.

the last man standing tries to flee, you take aim and fire a warning shot near his feet. he freezes, hands trembling in surrender.

the rooftop falls into silence, only the labored groans of the fallen men breaking the stillness. the adrenaline still surges through your veins as you lower your gun, stepping closer to gojo, who brushes nonexistent dust off his sleeve like he didn't juts annihilate four men in less than two minutes.

“you good?” he asks, eyes flickering over you, concern hidden beneath his usual playful tone. “i should be asking you that.”

“what? you think a couple of suits can take me down?” he winks, but there's something unreadable in his eyes. something he doesn't want you to see. you don't press. at least, not now.

instead, you step forward, pressing your heel into scar-lips' injured arm. he yelps “so, who sent you?” scar-lips stay still, unwilling to say anything.

the other men groan on the ground, the sting of their broken bones keeping them from trying anything stupid. gojo sighs as if he's bored. as if this whole thing is an inconvenience rather than a threat to his life. he reaches into his jacket, pulling out his phone.

“you know,” he hums, tapping the screen with a lazy smirk “i could call someone. but they wouldn't be as nice as she is.” he gestures at you with a tilt of his head, his tone light, but his eyes? glacial.

scar-lips doesn't flinch. you press down harder on his arm. “fuck! alright, alright!” gojo grins like you just made his night.

“contract” he grits out. “someone put a price on your head. it's big. too big to ignore.” gojo clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “that's vague. who?” scar-lips looks like he's debating wether answering is worth the consequences. “not local”

“international” you press. he nods, slowly. “someone wants you dead, gojo. badly. all we got was a time and place.” his gaze flicks up to you, sharp despite pain. "and instructions to take you too".

the air grows thick. “me?” the man on the floor exhales “whoever hired us knew you'd be with him. they want you alive.” something cold settles in your stomach. gojo, however, laughs. it's quiet, then louder, echoing against the rooftop.

scar-lips looks at him like he's lost his damn mind. “what the fuck is wrong with you?” gojo wipes at the corner of his eyes like he actually found that funny. “man, you guys must be new do you know how many times someone's tried to put me in a body bag?” he leans in closer, voice dripping lower. “and not one of them ever succeeded.” gojo nods toward you, lips quirking. “someone wants her alive? buddy, you should be more scared of that than anything else.”

you glance down, they want you alive. that means whoever put out this hit isn't just after gojo— they're after something he has. the implications make your blood runs cold. but you don't have time to dwell on it.

one of the men on the ground— one you thought was barely conscious— lunges.

it happens fast. too fast.

a blade glints under the rooftop lights, aiming straight for gojo's ribs.

your gun fires before you think. the gunshot rings out, echoing accross the night.

the man crumples.

scra-lips yells, trying to scrambles back, but gojo's hand shoot out, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him up. “i'd be annoyed if this wasn't so damn prediactable.” his voice has lost its amusement. it's cold now. deadly. “you made a big mistake touching what's mine.” gojo's fingers tighten. for a second, you think he'll kill him.

but instead, gojo sighs—a sound full of tiredness— and his grip loosens. “i'd love to drag this out, but we have a gala to return to,” he says, and with that, he lets go. the man collapses to the ground, coughing violently.

gojo steps over him like he's nothing more than a discarded piece of trash. he reaches for your hand, gently pulling you away. “someone's coming to pick you up.” he adds, his tone far too casual for what just happened “be grateful. i called someone to take care of you, buddies. i only do that to my special guests.”

he slams the rooftop door shut behind them with a sense of finality, cutting off the chaos that lingers in the air.

as you make your way down the stairs, you abruptly stop, questions swirling in your mind. “what's wrong?” gojo asks. you meet his gaze, searching his eyes, trying to figure out what he's hiding from you. he steps closer "you okay?” you should nod. should brush it off like you always do.

but you don't answer, and you feel the weight of silence settles between you. it's suffocating, you don't know how to break it. so you shake your head. you want to ask him why he hired you. why he needs you when he could've handled everything alone. you want to know if there's more to this—more to you—than just being his bodyguard. the questions burns at the back of your throat, but you swallow it down, afraid of what the answer might be.

gojo's hand pulls you from your spiraling thoughts, his touch gentle—like always when he touches you—making you gasp. his palm cups your cheeks. “hey.” his eyes are full of concern, worried. his tumb brushes over your cheek, a fleeting touch, as if he's trying to ground you. you're not sure if it's for your sake or his.

“you're acting weird,” he murmurs, tilting his head. your throat tightens. “and you're acting like this is normal.” a short laugh escapes him, not a single hint of humor in it. his grip on your face loosens, but he doesn't pull away. “what do you want me to say?”

“i want you to tell me why,” the words come out quieter than you intended, but no less desperate. “why hire someone to protect you?” something flickers in his gaze, quick enough that you almost miss it. his fingers twitch against your skin. “you really think i need a bodyguard?” the way he says it sounds wrong—too light, too easy.

“exactly. you don't." your voice is unwavering now, the certainty of it strengthening you. “not after i saw what you did tonight. the way you fought— it was effortless. you're better than any soldier i've ever seen.” you hesitate, the memory clicking into place. ”better than me.” and now that you think about it, you remember your punch he blocked that night, back at the gala preparations. the sheer force he used. you should have realized then.

gojo is quiet for a moment. then, finally, he sighs, letting his hand drop from your face. the loss of his warmth makes your chest ache. “i thought it'd be obvious by now,” he mutters, looking away.

it isn't.

it's not obvious at all. and the fact that he won't just say it outright makes your frustration curl tight in your chest.

you take a step back, shaking your head. “well, as you can see… it's not.” you cross your arms, the hurt leaking into your voice. gojo's head snaps back toward you, eyes narrowing. “you overthink too much.” you scoff, anger bubbling up despite your exhaustion. “then give me answers. if you did, i wouldn't have to.”

his jaw clenches, and for a second, you think he's going to throw out some flippant remark, something to brush this all under the rug like he always does.

but then—

he takes a step forward.

and another.

until there's barely any space left between you.

“maybe i don't want you to know,” he says, voice low, almost quiet to hear. the words send a sharp pang through you. he's never been this blunt before— not like this. “why?” you whisper, almost afraid to ask, but you need to go through this. together. “once you know, you won't look at me the same.”

your heart clenches at the quiet honesty in his voice.

“satoru," you murmur, refusing to back down, “you dressed me tonight. you brought me here as your date. you even called me your wife.” your voice shakes, but you keep going. “and i was scared to lose you tonight.” the words slip out before you can stop them, raw and unfiltered, the weight of them hitting the space between you with unbearable force.

gojo stills. his breath is uneven, and his eyes—those brilliant blue eyes—widen just slightly. you close your own, exhaling shakily before continuing.

“i ran once. nine years ago.” your voice is barely a whisper now. “i was young. i was afraid. and it was a mistake.” his entire body tenses. “Satoru,” you open your eyes, meeting his. “i want you. all of you. and surprisingly, i'm willing to stay. to stand next to you. to kill for you if that's what it takes to keep you safe.” you pause, your voice thick with emotion. “i'm not afraid of threats. i don't want to run anymore.”

gojo looks wrecked. completely and utterly undone.

you step closer, pressing a hand to his chest, feeling the rapid, unsteady beat of his heart beneath your palm. “nothing you could ever say will change the way i see you.” your voice is firm “nothing.”

he swallows hard, his hands twitching at his sides like he doesn't know whether to pull you in or push you away— to protect you from people that would want to hurt you, only to hurt him.

but then— he breaks.

his arms wrap around you, crushing you to him, his grip almost desperate. his forehead drops to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin. and for the first time, gojo satoru—the untouchable, unshakable man— trembles.

“making me go through all that," he says against your hair, "being irrefutable with me and letting me beat the hell out of four men—" his fingers gripping the fabric of your clothes like he's terrified you'll disappear. “it took you all that to finally tell me what's on your heart?”

you let out a watery laugh, wrapping your arms around him just as tightly “i'm sorry.” he lets out a shaky breath, his lips brushing your temple. “stay,” it's not a command, not a plea— just a confession. you close your eyes, letting yourself sink into his warmth, into the way he holds you like he's never wanted anything more. “i'm not going anywhere.”

and just like that, nothing else matters.

the gala, the stares, the whispers— none of it exists as you slip out through the back entrance, hands locked together, ignoring the world you're leaving behind.

gojo doesn't let go.

not even when he open the car door for you, not even when he slides into the driver's seat. his hand stays on your thigh, fingers warm and steady, tracing idle patterns against your skin. every red light is an excuse— an excuse to lift your hand to his lips, pressing slow, deliberate kisses on your knuckles, the pads of your fingers, the inside of you wrist.

you shiver, watching him through lidded eyes. “you're being soft.” gojo hums, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. “you love it, don't you?” and you don't deny it.

the drive is quiet, heavy with something unspoken. when he pulls up in front of his house, fingers still tracing slow, burning circles on you thigh, the weight of earlier comes crashing back. you shift in your seat, eyes flicking toward him.

“what were you going to say earlier?” his hand pauses for just a second— just long enough for you to notice. then, instead of answering, he leans in, his breath hitting your jaw as his lips ghost over your skin. “you really want to talk about that right now?”

the air is charged, thick with frustration and need. his lips press against the corner of your mouth— featherlight, teasing, but you can feel the restraint in the way his fingers grip your thigh. you tilt your head, giving him more access as a sigh leave your lips. “i need to know.”

gojo groans, low and deep. his hands move— one sliding up higher up your thigh, the other tangling in your hair as he pulls you toward him, his lips finally crashing against yours.

the kiss is messy, heated, all tongue and teeth and pent-up frustration. you don't even remember shifting onto his lap, only that his hands are on your hips, gripping tight enough to leave marks. his breath is ragged when he pulls back, forehead pressed against yours. your lipstick stains his lips, smudged, messy, sinful.

“you really wanna do this now?” his voice is rough, uneven. his fingers slip beneath your dress, brushing against your bare skin. “because if i start talking now, i won't stop. and i'd rather have you like this, falling apart in my hands. or my tongue. begging for more.”

your pulse is wild, but you don't back down. “satoru.” you lift a hand, softly wiping the lipstick from his lips. “tell me.” his sigh is one of defeat, his head falling back on the headrest. “i didn't hire you to protect me.” his voice is quieter now, raw in a way you've never heard before. “i hired you because i wanted you close.”

your breath catches. gojo chuckles, but there's no humor in it. “you ran from me nine years ago,” he presses open-mouthed kisses along your neck— wet, lingering. “did you really think i was going to let you do it again?”

your eyes burn with emotions— ones you don't have time to process because gojo's lips trail lower, his tongue flicking out, teasing, tasting. "being an influential young man got me some enemies. I had to know how to fight like a soldier— if not better. as the years went by, I became even more influential. and with some quick calls, I was able to find you."

“i don't think i deserve you, gojo.” the words spill out, breathless. gojo clicks his tongue, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. his hands frame your face “sweetheart,” his voice barely above a whisper “let's go inside,” his teeth graze your skin “i'm going to show you just how much you deserve me.”

──────-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

you barely step through the threshold before gojo's hands are on you again, pushing you against the wall. his kiss is devastating, all-consuming, a plea and a demand in one. his hands roam, sliding down your sides, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, like he's afraid you'll slip through his fingers again.

“you're killing me,” he groans, voice hoarse, “i need you. need to taste you.” your dress is barely hanging on, undone but still covering you like some cruel temptation, and that makes it worse for him. he doesn't pull it off— not yet. his fingers skim the fabric, then push it up, bunching around your waist. that's when he sees them.

your light blue panties— delicate, sheer, adorned with tiny pearls. the one he meticulously chose for you earlier. he fucking loses it at the sight.

“sweetheart.” his voice shatters, his breath stuttering as his thumb brushed the pearls, the fabric already damp. a pretty little thing wrapped up so nicely just for him. his hands shake when he presses his palm flat against your cunt, cupping you through the soaked fabric. “you're so wet. you wanted me this bad?”

you whimper, nodding, your knees already weak.

he drops to his knees so fast it's almost embarrassing. he doesn't even push your panties aside right away. instead, he leans in, kissing up your thighs— not just to tease, but to worship. his lips press against every scar, every mark, each one a silent promise. “my pretty strong girl,” he murmurs, his fingers squeezing your legs. “i will take care of them later.”

“satoru—”

his mouth finds the inside of your thigh first, biting down hard enough to make you whimper before soothing the mark with his tongue. then finally, finally, his mouth is on you. a hot, wet, messy kiss pressed right against your cunt, sucking you through the fabric of your panties. you gasp for air, your hands tightening on his white hair, earning a moan from him, an actual moan.

his tongue pressed flat against your cunt, teasing you through the pearls and lace. you gasp, body jolting, thighs trying to squeeze together, but he won't let you. his strong hands hold you open, force you to take it.

“f-fuck—" you breathe, fingers diving into his hair.

gojo grinds his face into your pussy like a possessed man. “god, you taste sweet even through this,” he slurs, drunk on it, his voice muffled. “missed having my mouth on you.”

his tongue dragged over the fabric, lapping, teasing, sucking, his fingers slipping underneath to pull them to the side. “Gojo—” your head slams back against the wall.

he didn't let you finish as he spreads your pussy open with his thumbs and buried his face between right into your core, eating you out like he was trying to ruin you for anyone else. like he needed to prove something.

it's sloppy, desperate, obscene.

he's licking into you with long, deep strokes, his nose bumping against your clit. his fingers dug into your ass, yanking you closer, forcing you to grind against his mouth, fucking his tongue with every rool of your hips.

“t-too much—” your body is trembling.

“been too long, huh? missed me eating your pretty little pussy?” sliding his tongue down to fuck into you, groaning when you clenched around him. you were so wet, so fucking wet, dripping down his chin as he worked you over, puling moans out of you that made his cock throb painfully against his zipper.

his arms wrap around your waist, locking you in place, forcing you to take everything he gives. his moans vibrate against your skin, needy, delirious, he's getting off on this as much as you are. “taste so fucking sweet,” his voice is muffled by your heat. “could stay down here forever.” he doesn't stop, doesn't let up— not even when your thighs squeeze around his head, when you're shaking so hard you can barely breathe.

your body locks up, pleasure tightening, so close it hurts. his fingers dig into your flesh, his lips wrapping around your clit, sucking just right, and that's all it takes— you break apart with a cry, shuddering, coming all over his tongue.

gojo groans like he's tasting something forbidden, something addictive, lapping it all up, refusing to let a single drop go to waste.

by the time he pulls away, his lips and chin are glistening, his pupils blown wide, his chest rising and falling like he just ran miles. your dress is still on, but your panties are pushed to the side, and gojo is a wrecked mess between your legs, staring at you like he's ready to die for you.

“come here.” you grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a flithy desperate kiss. his hands scrambled to get his belt open, shaking so badly he barely undo it. “l-let me help,” you whisper, your hands brushing his as you pull his belt free, undoing his zipper. “i want to make it up to you” you look at him in the eyes “for running away.” your hands slide over his thighs, palming the thick outline of him through his pants. he's already rock-hard. gojo let out a pathetic whimper. “s-shit, you don't have to—”

the second you slide down his boxers, his cock slaps against his stomach, thick, flushed, dripping. “f-fuck—” he lets out when your hand wraps around him. he's so hard it must be painful, a bead of precum leaking from the flushed tip.

you dropped to your knees and looking up at him through your lashes “i need to, satoru”

gojo chokes “fuck— yeah, please—” with nothing more you took him in your mouth. his hands immediately flying to your hair, not pulling, just holding, like he needs something to ground himself

his entire body jerked as your tongue drags up his length, flicking over the tip before you sink down, taking him deep. tongue pressing against the thick vein running along his dick. you hollowed your cheeks, bobbing your head, your hand stroking the rest of him. it's slick and obscene, the sounds echoing in the hallway. your lips stretched around him.

“f-fuck— sweetheart,” gojo is a mess above you. a whimpering, panting mess. his thighs tensed, his whole body shudders. “fuck, f-fuck— too good, it's too fucking g-good—” he wants you to let you continue. he wants to watch you take him apart.

but he wants to feel you. it's been nine long years for fuck sake. he just needs your pretty little cunt wrapping around his cock. “i-if you don't stop— shit— if you d-don't stop r-right n-now, i'm gonna—” he grabs your wrists, and you pulled off with a sinful pop, lips swollen, eyes gleaming.

“bed. now.”

except… you don't make it to the bed…

you get as far as the couch before you're shoving him down, straddling his lap, gripping his shoulders. his cock is still out, flushed, leaking, twitching against his stomach. and your soaked panties are still on, pulled to the side, teasing him.

“reverse cowgirl.” you say, full of tease. his brain short-circuits. “w-what?” you don't answer. you just move, shift until your back is to him. you give him a full view on the open dress, the curves of your body, the barest glimpse of your soaked panties sill clinging to your folds.

“oh, fuck— ohhh fuck.” his head drops back against the couch. his hands finding your waist as you took his base and let your hips ever so slowly sink down.

you both are drowning. “t-toru— ahh, ‘s big—” your voice breaks. you forgot how fucking big he is. surely the biggest cock you’ve ever took. “th-that's okay, s-sweetheart,” gojo is hardly holding on, shaking beneath you. “you're d-doing good— fuck— your walls are sucking me i-in. i— fuckfuckfuck—”

inch by inch, you take him, stretching, gasping, feeling him pulse inside you.

sweat drips down your back. gojo leans in, licks it up. and then—

he loses his patience.

he grabs your hips, slams you down, and fuck, you both scream. his fingers are bruising, his breath wrecked against your spine, and you're already a trembling, cock-drunk mess in his lap. “t-toru— please—”

“shhh, sweetheart,” he pants, barely coherent. “let me make you mine again.”

he drags you down onto him, thrusting up to meet you, filling you so deep you can feel him in your stomach. “ohhh— fuuuck, toru—” your hands scrambling for purchase against the couch as you rock back against him.

“that's right, sweetheart,” his forehead pressed against your bare spine. “take me— please, take all of me.” he pulls you back onto him harder, a desperate, needy little sound escaping his throat when he sees the way your pretty blue panties cling to you, your pussy stretched around the base of his cock, underwear soaked. “s-shit, your panties— fuck, that's so—” gojo can't even finish his sentence. his hands slip under your dress, his fingers finding your hard nipples and pinches them through your bra.

“satoru, i—” you sob, rolling your hips, grinding down. “that's it, ride me,” he begs, his hands palming your soft breasts. “you feel so fucking good, s-so tight—” you lift your hips just to slam back down, picking up a rhythm, and gojo loses his fucking mind. his moans spilling out in rapid desperate gasps. “fuck, baby—”

his length throbs inside you, his hips bucking up uncontrollably. he grabs at you, at your dress, your thighs, anywhere he can touch, his lips pressing frantic, open-mouthed kisses along your back.

“d-don't stop— please— ohh f-fuck, please don't stop—” he sounds so ruined, so completely fucking gone.

somehow you grind down even harder, sending the poor guy's body jolting. he's straight-up choking, his moans turn high-pitched, pathetic, whimpering. “sweetheart, i-i can't— oh fuck, i'm gonna—” his voice breaks, shaking “i can't hold it— i can't, i can't—”

you lean back against his chest, turning just enough to catch the sight of him— his head thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, mouth parted, his entire body trembling beneath you. “t-toru,” you whimper, tightening around him. “cum for me.”

that's it. that's all it takes.

Gojo slams you down onto him one last time, a ragged, broken cry ripping from his throat. His cock pulses deep inside you, his grip on you almost bruising as he spills into you, moaning like he’s coming apart at the seams. his chest rising and falling erratically, his entire body completely ruined.

and even as the pleasure fades, he doesn't let go. “you're mine. not letting you go again.” he doesn't give you time to respond as he suddenly grabs your wrists, shoving you face-down into the couch. “but that doesn't mean i'm done with you.” his body is still trembling, his cock still throbbing inside you, slick with both of your release.

“one round isn't enough,” heavy voice in your ear. he rolls his hips once, slow and deep, dragging his dick through the mess he's made of you.

your whimper is swallowed by the cushions, fingers clawing at the fabric as he strats moving again. his pace is slow at first, torturous, letting you feel every thick inch stretching you open again. then he pulls out almost completely—just the tip remained inside— before slamming back in, so deep your vision blurs.

“mhhh— satoru!” the force of it knocks the breath out of you, makes you choke on your own moan. his hands are everywhere—gripping your hips, sliding up your back, fisting your hair.

“look at you, sweetheart,” he pants, voice slurred, filthy. “so wet—so messy—fuck, listen to yourself.” and oh, you can hear it. the lewd, obscene squelching of your cunt sucking him back in with every thrust. it's dripping down your thighs, coating his cock, soaking the couch beneath you.

“s'dripping” he groans, pulling out just to watch the way your hole clenches, fluttering around nothing. your slick mixed with his cum spills out. glistening, pooling between your legs. “fucking— shit” he grits his teeth, fisting his cock, slapping it against your swollen cunt. “such a pretty mess."

“p-please,” you sob, wiggling your hips, trying to push back against him. you're so sensitive, already teetering on the edge again. “please what?” his grip tightens in your hair, yanking your head back so his lips brush your ear. “use your words, sweetheart. beg for it.” your brain is mush, squirming beneath him, but you give him what he wants.

“please— please, t-toru fuck me— use me. w-want you s-so bad— need you so bad—” his breath shudders “you're so hot,”

and he slams back into you, deeper, harder, faster. you scream, your arms giving out as he fucks you into the cushions. his pace is wild, frantic, desperate— his cock found your g-spot. hitting it over and over again. until you're body is nothing but raw nerves and white-hot pleasure.

“y-you like this?” gojo struggles finding his breathe, sweat dripping down his temple. “like getting fucked stupid? like being ruined?” you can't even speak— just babbling his name.

“sweetheart, im not gonna last— fuck, i wanna feel you cum again, i need to feel it—” he moans, he swears your cunt was made perfectly for him and only him. one hand slipping between your legs, fingers rubbing at your clit in messy, quick circles.

“come on— cum on my cock, wanna feel your cum all over me,” your whole body seizes, pleasure ripping through you so hard you think you black out for a second. you scream his name, back arching, legs shaking, walls clenching tight around him he nearly collapses. “ohh— ohhh ‘s gooood— wrapping around my cock aghn,”

his hips snap forward, his voice breaking as he lets out white long hot creams. he cums so much, it leaks out around his dick— balls.

for a moment, the only sound in the room is your ragged breathing, the lewd, sticky wetness between your legs, the faint creak of the couch beneath you. gojo breaks it with a breathless, shaky laugh. “you're a fucking dream,” he mumbles, pressing lazy, wet kisses to your shoulder. his arms wrapped tight around your waist.

“satoru…” you whisper his name, running your fingers through his damp hair. he exhales and lifts you into his arms. he carries you like you're something sacred, irreplaceable. something he'll never allow to slip through his fingers again.

"bedroom," he murmurs against your temple. “i need to love you properly.” your breath catches, a lump forming in your throat. this is different. you wrap your arms around him as he carries you through the dimly lit house, his body still inside yours, still pulsing, still clinging to every last bit of warmth you give him.

tonight, he took you like he was desperate. like he had something to prove, like he needed to reclaim you after all these years apart. but now…

now he's looking at you like you hung the stars in his sky.

when he lays you down on his bed, it feels like the world stops. like you both exist in your own universe. gojo hovers over you, his hands tracing over every inch of you. he maps your body with his touch, memorizes you with his lips, presses soft, reverent kisses over your skin.

and he pauses when he reaches your scars. trembling hands ghost over them, his expression unreadable. his eyes, impossibly blue even in the dim light, flicker up to yours. his fingertips linger on your scars, tracing them so gently it make your breath hitch.

“nine years,” his lips press over each mark, worshipping. “nine agonizingly years without you.” your chest aches. you cup his face, wiping the single tear coming down his cheek with your thumb. gojo closes his eyes, leaning into your touch like he needs it to breathe. “you don't get it.” murmuring it more to himself than you.

he looks down at you like you're everything. like he doesn't believe you're real.

you don't get a chance to respond before he's kissing you—slow, deep. it's not just hunger, not just lust. it's grief, it's relief, it's the kind of love that breaks you open and remakes you all at once.

when he finally pushes into you, it's not desperate. it's deliberate— he's trying to mold himself to you, he wants to leave an imprint of himself inside you forever. “satoru—”

“i know, sweetheart,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, your neck, your collarbone. “let me love you.”

you do. you let him take his time. let him move in deep, slow thrusts that leave you breathless. let him pull every last moan from your lips until your nails dig into his back. his name falls from your lips like a prayer, over and over again.

“feel that?” satoru takes your chin in his hand, making you look at him. “feel how deep i am? how i'm filling you up?” there's no rush, just the overwhelming feeling of being connected— having each other the way you were always meant to.

“toru, please,” you gasp into his mouth. “i've got you,” he mutters, nose brushing against yours. his fingers lace through yours, pinning your hands above your head, your legs wrapping around his waist, your body arching into him.

“you're everything,” he whispers. “you always were.” your chest tightens, you feel yourself shatters as heat coils in your stomach, winding tighter and tighter.

you're so full of him, of love, of longing, of everything you've spent nine years trying to ignore.

“i love you,” and it sets something free inside you.

gojo chokes on his breath. his rhythm stutters. his fingers tighten around yours. his lips tremble against your skin. “say it again,” he begs.

“i love you, Satoru.” his hips snap into you harder, pace remaining slow as if he's trying to commit every part of you to memory. “say it again, sweetheart.”

“i love you—” his body tenses, his release crashing over him at the same time you hit yours. his lips find yours as you both shatter together.

when he collapses on top of you, he doesn't let go. doesn't even try. you're still tangled together, still connected when he speaks. “i was serious,” you hum, sleepy, completely boneless in his arms. “about what?” his fingers stroke over your hip. “about calling you my wife.”

you tilt your head, searching his face. he's looking at you like you're his entire world. he's never been more sure of anything in his life. “i don't just want you here tonight,” he says softly, kissing the tip of your nose. “i want you here forever.”

tears sting your eyes, but you smile, brushing his hair out of his face. “then start calling me that now, satoru.” gojo grins— that beautiful, bright, devastating grin.

“come here, wife.”

( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

96 notes · View notes

waynes-multiverse · 2 days ago

Text

Already so in love with the start of this chapter! A girl who can eat is a girl after my heart 🫶 (and apparently Russell's lol)

“Good god. You have never been more attractive to me, which is saying something.” You slurped again, Russell letting his curiosity in your eating habits fade away in favor of the elephant in the room.

Girl, you and I have the same headcanon about this! He needs someone with super weird food habits 😂🫶

And I loved her then suddenly trying to get rid of him and coming up with the lamest excuse in the book before threathening him lol. Glad he saw right through that! And this made me melt 🫠:

“Forget I said anything.” You stood up, Russell matching the movement and catching your bicep before you could take a step. Yes, he was injured but even one armed, he had enough raw strength in him to keep you from leaving. “Tell me or I dig on my own and make things a lot riskier for both of us.” He dropped his hand, nodding to the seat. Russell sighed. “I trusted you. You can do the same.”

Oh, and it is a mafia thing! 👀 Phew, that's a tough job for Russell (not that I doubt his abilities, but she is right – he's only one man. You're not planning on breaking my heart, are you? 😅)

“Like my home?” He stared blankly, eyes drifting down to your chest. “The flirting was cute. Eye-fucking me in my kitchen, not so much.” “You have sauce all over your shirt.”

Oh, he got real lucky there, didn't he? He must've loved this 😂😂

“Because knowing how to get stains out of all types of fabrics is kind of necessary in my line of work,” he said, opening a few cabinets before finding the one with the plates. “Now. Can you put the knife you thought you grabbed without me seeing back and we have a civilized conversation over pizza?”

I'm so in love with this characterization of him here! Behind all the goofiness and bad flirting still hides that smart killing machine, and you portray that so well throughout their entire conversation 🖤

I love reading more of her backstory, and obviously Russell can relate since he grew up similarily. I see some romance brewing and bonding happening here 😍

You’re going to park in the visitors lot and go to the airstream in lot 4. It’ll be isolated. You knock on the door and there’ll be a guy inside. Colter. You stay with him, go wherever he goes and do whatever he tells you to without question. You don’t leave his side until I come and get you, understand?”

Knowing her, I don't see this working out well for Colter. Poor guy will have his hands full with her 😂

You woke up around six thirty, jolting up in your bed to find a very wet and nearly naked Colter trying to pick up a mug he’d dropped. “Well good morning,” you said, his hand in a death grip on the towel just barely concealing him away.

I don't mind this at all 😏

The commitment to him being shirtless on this show is for real, tho 🫠 (And PS: I saw you wrote for Colter too! I totally have to check that out! Justin Hartley had me in a chokehold since This Is Us. He rows right into the "lovable and stupidly hot idiot" category that I've fallen victim to lol.)

And not only did she bond with Russell in this part but also with Colter. Seriously loved every minute of their conversation! And considering Russell sent her to his brother, who he hasn't spoken to in so long, speaks volumes how much he trusts Colter. Colter seeing that too was such a precious moment 😭🫶

Sure, Colter was hot but Russell…well the image of that man in nothing but a towel as water dripped down his body…

Agree! The ruggedness and roughness (the beard) certainly adds a few plus points 🔥😏

“And? What am I saying?” you asked, staring him down.

I was gonna say, she should be careful with that challenge, and his answer did not disappoint! It was gold 🤣🤣🤣

And I totally didn't expect her to stay with Colter for days, drive across the country, and join him on a case! This is such a cool twists and I'm loving their hangout dynamic 😁 I do have an inkling Russell will be jealous of their bonding and probably scold Colter for taking her on a case lmao

“He knows what he’s doing. A job like this, he’s got to do a lot of prep work and he’s got to put a crew together. Trusted friends. Try not to worry.”

Ooooh I know you read the books and this reminded me so much of the crew book!Russell worked with!!! 👏

I was so relieved when he came back in one piece! And that little present for her was so sweet and thoughtful 🥹 The note, on the other hand, was hilarious 😂

But why the angst at the end there? No they were supposed to be happy! Sunset, rainbows, unicorns, glitter!!! I will suffer in the next part, won't I? 😅

This was such an amazing chapter from start to finish! I thoroughly enjoyed all their conversations, their dynamics, the humor mixed with seriousness and feelings. Loved every second of this! 🩵

He's My Man (Part 2)

Summary: The reader isn't quite so sure if she can trust Russell with her secrets but he's decided she's going to get his help, whether she wants it or not. Reluctantly she accepts but in the process realizes she might actually be starting to care about him...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 4,500ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury mention, mentions of death, angst, fluff

A/N: Ooooh things are heating up! Please enjoy!

__________

Russell stared at you with what one could only describe as a look of wonder. You didn’t exactly blame him. Eating four large cheese danishes and chugging back a week’s worth of coffee in the span of fifteen minutes was enough to make anyone’s eyes widen.

You tossed your trash in his motel waste bin when you finished and returned to your seat at the tiny corner table. With an obnoxiously loud slurp of even more coffee, Russell titled his head, shaking it slightly.

Your fingertips rattled against the side of the large styrofoam cup, a small amount of heat radiating through. Now that you’d had some time to think, or rather stress eat, you knew this was a mistake. A big one. You needed to kick Russell out of your life and the sooner the better.

“I think you have the wrong idea about what’s going on and I thought it better we talk in private,” you said. Russell wore a weary expression, his eyes dissecting your every micro-movement. “I’m not interested in a relationship or a date or conversation. I don’t do that considering my line of work and I imagine you keep things casual with yours. So you take your money and consider this a warning. Contact me again and I will have you dealt with, understand?”

Russell leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a clenched jaw. You narrowed your eyes in response, Russell picking at his bandage without realizing.

“Stop that,” you mumbled when he kept doing it, his lip twitching up in a not so friendly way.

“You threaten me and in the next breath are worried about my damn stitches? I don’t think you realize just how good I am at my job,” he said, placing both hands on the table, folding them together. You swallowed, Russell staring so intently you had to glance away. “Alright. Back at the coffee shop, that was a moment of bravery and now it’s passed? Tough shit. We’re in the weeds now and we ain’t leaving until I know you do your job of your own free will. Understand?”

“Tell me or I dig on my own and make things a lot riskier for both of us.” He dropped his hand, nodding to the seat. Russell sighed. “I trusted you. You can do the same.”

“You’re one guy.” You shook your head. “Drop this or you’ll wind up dead or worse.”

“I made my living doing jobs where if I fucked up I’d wish I were dead over the alternative. I know how to keep a secret. Maybe I can help, maybe I can’t. But you opened the box. You can’t just close it again.”

“Yes, I can. Goodbye, Russell.” You grabbed your coffee and headed for the door, pausing when you had a hand on the handle.

But what if he could help…he was ex-special ops…

Russell’s hand slid over yours, giving it a gentle squeeze. You frowned, a reassuring smile greeting you.

“Do you like your job?” he asked.

“S’complicated,” you whispered.

“How complicated?”

“Jobs like yours…that’s up to me to do that stuff but I…I work for someone else.” You found Russell’s unreadable green eyes and sighed. “I’m a fixer for the local mafia. It’s not a job you get to quit and stay alive very long.”

Russell contemplated your words, lips forming a thin line before he nodded. “I can take care of that assuming your story checks out.”

“My story?” you asked, Russell humming. “Why would I lie-”

“You could be playing me for any number of reasons. Like I said, I’m going to check your story out and if it’s all kosher, we’ll figure out where to go from there. Capiche?”

“Fine,” you grit out, shaking his hand away. “But do it quietly. You got three days.”

Late Evening

Your eye actually twitched when you answered your front door that night to find not your pizza delivery man before you but Russell fucking Shaw. He wore a deep navy utility jacket that hung loosely around his trim waist and a pair of black jeans. You weren’t sure why but his shift from lighter colored clothing this morning to this dark, edgy look made him look as dangerous as you expected he was.

“Russell,” you said. He didn’t bother hiding his smirk, eyes roaming over your body. You glanced down at your soft pale yellow pajama shirt and matching shorts set, huffing when he slipped past you inside.

“You totally are the kind of woman to having matching jammies,” he chuckled. You gripped the door tight, ready to kick him out just as your delivery driver pulled up.

“Just…take off your boots.” Two minutes later you had your pizza and garlic knots on your kitchen counter while Russell leaned back against it, his jacket since removed and tossed on the back of your couch. He wore a black zip up that was undone over a black t-shirt, Russell shifting at your growing unease.

“Listen,” he said, holding up his hands. “You got questions but first off, I’m not here to hurt you. This is just what I wear when I need to go…looking around places I ain’t exactly invited into.”

“Like my home?” He stared blankly, eyes drifting down to your chest. “The flirting was cute. Eye-fucking me in my kitchen, not so much.”

“You have sauce all over your shirt.” You glanced down, spotting marinara drops all over your short sleeve button up top from where you’d had the edge of the pizza box pressed against your torso as you’d carried it in. “Thanks for thinking so highly of me, though. Makes a guy feel special.”

“I’m on edge, alright?” you snapped, grabbing a towel and trying to get most of the sauce out. “Plus I just ruined a two hundred dollar shirt.”

“Figured you for a oversized men’s t-shirts kind of gal but little sets from french boutiques suites you.” You froze, Russell dropping his hands. “I know all about your shopping habits. You have high quality taste, much richer than the average suburbanite.”

“And?” you said, tossing the towel down, hands going to your hips. “Are you about to kidnap me and turn me over to the mafia or what?”

Russell approached you slowly, gently picking up the towel from the floor and dabbing it with some dish soap.

“If I had wanted to hurt you or take you or whatever else is going through your head, you wouldn’t have seen me coming.” He rubbed the towel against the damp spot on your shirt, letting the fabric get soapy. “Let that soak for a few minutes and then after you have some dinner, toss it in the wash. It’ll come out good as new.”

“How do you know that?” you asked, Russell hanging your towel on the oven handle.

You weren’t sure how he’d seen you swipe the knife from the butchers block but figured he had a point. If he’d wanted to screw you over, he would have done it already. After excusing yourself, you returned in a pair of skinny black joggers and a slightly cropped gray AC/DC shirt to find Russell had already plated two sizeable portions for yourselves.

“See? Now that’s a look more fitting for the princess of darkness,” he chuckled.

“That’s queen of darkness to you,” you said, taking a seat at the island in front of one of the plates. “Do me a favor, lover boy. Grab me a guinness from the fridge.”

“Dark stout. Always a good choice.” He got out two, removing the cap for you before retreating to the other side of the island.

“As much as I love uninvited house guests who welcome themselves to my food and beer, why are you here, Russell?” You took a large bite of pizza, Russell long necking his beer for a moment.

“Yet I don’t see you kicking me out. It’s okay to admit you’ve fallen for me, Y/N,” he teased. You growled, Russell’s eyebrows raising in amusement. “Hot damn, woman. I love when you get all grr. Tells me you are a force to be reckoned with.”

You rolled your eyes, Russell taking an extra large bite. “Stop flirting and talk.”

“Why can’t I do both?” he asked, not waiting for an answer. “But to answer your original question, I’m here because your story checked out and that’s kind of a problem.”

“Excuse me? Why is that an issue?”

He set his plate down and gripped the island, leaning over it slightly. “Y/N. I can call up a few friends and wipe out a local mafia family no problem.”

“Awesome. Then what’s the fucking problem?” Russell tilted his head, like you’d just walked into some kind of trap he’d set.

“Y/N. Despite all the obvious sexual tension brewing between us, you failed to mention that you have a boyfriend. You know, the head of this fucking mafia family. The boyfriend that buys you those fancy french pajama sets? The one that bought that espresso machine over there? Girl, you better explain yourself because I am not a hired gun.”

You chewed quietly for a few moments under the heated scrutiny of Russell’s gaze before you pushed the plate away.

“My dad was an accomplished doctor. He was very well respected. I grew up very comfortably until I was about eight.” Russell loosened his stance and began to eat while you decided what he needed to absolutely know. “My dad unknowingly saved a mobster’s life one night in the ER. Mr. Lauter.”

“The former head of the mafia and this guy, Owen, your supposed boyfriend’s dad?” You nodded before taking a big swig from your bottle.

“Well, that pissed off Mr. Elpine who had almost had a successful hit on Mr. Lauter. Elpine tried to get my dad to kill Lauter. Dad refused and the next morning on the way to school, the brake lines in our car didn’t work. Dad and I walked away. Mom and my brother didn’t. Dad was scared Elpine would come after me again.”

“Your father went to Lauter for protection,” said Russell. You picked up your pizza as he put together the rest of the pieces. “Lauter offers him protection for saving his life but something happens and your dad ends up working for Lauter as his fixer.”

“The paranoia got to dad. He would take me on these weekend hunting trips all the time and teach me survival skills and medical stuff and I was a fucking kid, Russell. I didn’t want to do that shit but dad was…twitchy. PTSD for sure, a mental break too. I always guessed there was some brain trauma after the accident that never healed. He got real bad when I went to college. Bad enough that Lauter stepped in when my dad attacked me when I came home for the holidays. Lauter killed him and the fucked up part was I wasn’t even upset. My real dad had died when I was a kid. But…when a mob boss kills for you whether you wanted them to or not-”

“They think they own you for life.” You nodded. “So you became the fixer.”

“They let me finish college under the condition I come back and work for the family. They leave me be except for when I need to patch someone in the crew up. It’s honestly not that bad. They gave me a lot of money over the years. I hate to say this but Mr. Lauter was pretty good to me.”

Russell cleared his throat. “You do know how fucked up what he did to you is, right?”

“Of course I do,” you said, closing your eyes. “But compared to my dad and Owen, he was the lesser evil.”

“I came across the fact Mr. Lauter died about three weeks ago from heart disease.” You hummed. “Tell me about this fuckface, Owen.”

“Dude has had a crush on me since he was fucking twelve. He has it in his head that the family owns me, literally. Lauter always reined him in but since he’s been gone, Owen’s been…pushy. Telling the crew I’m his girlfriend, asking them to follow me. Thankfully, and this is why this is so weird, I grew up around a lot of the guys. Making me work and fix people, fine. But some kind of forced romance? They aren’t cool with it, at least they’re kind of ignoring Owen. I’ve kept Owen off my back because he’s grieving and busy trying to take over but he’s going to back on my ass soon. This time, those guys will have to listen to their new boss.”

“So…I take out Owen and you think you’re in the clear. You could have just said that.” He finished off his beer and washed his hands at the sink. “Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going grab essentials, and I mean essentials, while I pack up your dinner in what I expect is some color coordinated tupperware. Then you’re going to take my car and drive to Elmhurst Camping Grounds. It’s about four hours north of here and no, you will stop for anything so use the bathroom before you go and I’ll pack you a snack. You’re going to park in the visitors lot and go to the airstream in lot 4. It’ll be isolated. You knock on the door and there’ll be a guy inside. Colter. You stay with him, go wherever he goes and do whatever he tells you to without question. You don’t leave his side until I come and get you, understand?”

“I feel like if I ask questions you’ll just tell me I don’t want to know.” Russell smirked.

“I love that big brain of yours.” You rolled your eyes but felt a tiny smile on your face. “Warming up to me are we?”

“Fuck no. But uh, who the hell are you sending me to?”

“My baby brother. Don’t worry. His ugly mug will keep you safe.”

Four Hours Later

“Uh, hi,” you said, practically bouncing up and down at midnight in front of a strange tall man at a very nice airstream RV.

“Y/N,” he said as you forced a smile. “Bathroom is right there-”

You darted past him and into the small cubby bathroom, grateful after the long drive. The man was waiting leaned against a small counter space when you exited, a temporary bed made up behind him in what looked like a breakfast nook.

“Sorry to barge in. Russell said not to stop for anything.”

“S’alright,” he said. “Bed’s made up if you want to crash. I’m going to stay up a bit longer by the fire. You’re welcome to join if you like.”

“Thanks, uh…” you said, a very brief smile on his face as you tried to remember what Russell had called him.

“Colter. It’s not a problem.” He skirted by you and outside, taking a seat in a foldable camping chair. You had questions but for the moment, all you wanted was to get some rest.

You woke up around six thirty, jolting up in your bed to find a very wet and nearly naked Colter trying to pick up a mug he’d dropped.

“Well good morning,” you said, his hand in a death grip on the towel just barely concealing him away.

“Morning,” he said, slowly backing up to the bedroom. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Not a problem,” you said, catching a whiff of coffee.

“Mug are in the first cabinet if you want a cup. I’ll be out in a minute,” he said. He excused himself to his room and slid the divider shut, leaving you to the rest of the airstreamer.

A moment later you were outside in front of a small fire, sitting in a chair with warm coffee in your hands. It was cool and you wished you’d thought to pack a jacket in your haste last night.

You were rubbing your arms when something was draped over your shoulders, a thick heavy hoodie.

“Russell got you out of there pretty quick, huh?” asked Colter, taking the mug while you shrugged into the warm fleece.

“Yeah. All I grabbed was my wallet, some cash and my computer. He told me I could buy clothes here,” you said. Colter handed you back the mug and took a seat beside you.

“I checked his car. He had a duffel full of his clothes in there I brought inside. You can use his stuff, or mine, until we can hit a store.”

“Thanks,” you said, smelling Russell’s deodorant on the fabric. Colter saw you tug the hood up, a question on the tip of his tongue but he decided against it. The air was still and quiet apart from the crackle of fire and morning birds.

“So,” said Colter, not looking at you as he drank. “You and Russell…you like, his girlfriend-”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “I just met the guy yesterday. All I did was patch him up.”

“Right.” You sunk lower in your chair, slurping loudly.

“Were you special ops like him?” you asked. Colter shook his head.

“Civilian. Never had any formal training, just what we grew up with.” Well, that was an interesting statement. What the hell did it mean though? “Our father was a survivalist, taught us things.”

“Oh. My dad was a little out there too.” Was that why Russell was so adamant about helping you out of your situation? No. Maybe it played a part, but no. He’d wanted to help before you told him that. “Does Russell do this sort of thing often?”

“No clue. First time I talked to him in years was two days ago. I helped him find a friend of his. I was there when he got that bullet hole in him you fixed.”

Alrighty then. Russell was becoming more and more intriguing by the second.

“So you don’t know a lot about him then,” you said. Colter shrugged.

“I guess I’m figuring him out too but he’s a good guy. He’s somebody you want as a friend.” You hummed, finishing your coffee off. Colter excused himself to get you more and returned with a fresh cup, steam billowing from within.

“You trail run?” you asked, Colter’s eyes showing a flash of surprise. “Muddy sneakers by the door. I did cross country in school.”

“I try to get out most mornings. The hot water should be good to go in about five minutes if you want a shower.”

“Thanks.” You licked your lips as you remembered the sight of him exiting the bathroom not long ago. Sure, Colter was hot but Russell…well the image of that man in nothing but a towel as water dripped down his body…You shifted in your seat, squeezing your legs together to try and get a hold of yourself. Colter smirked slightly in his seat. “What?”

“I’m good at reading people is all.”

“And? What am I saying?” you asked, staring him down. Colter only smiled as he looked away to the fire.

“You’re wondering if Russell works out and picturing him naked.” You glared at him but it did nothing to hide the heat radiating off your cheeks. “Hey, you’re a grown woman. You can do as you please.”

“I think I will take that shower now.” You stood and set the mug down on the ground, shooting Colter one last look. There’d been no malice or teasing in his voice. He was simply being straight with you. “Listen. I just…I haven’t exactly been around good guys much, or ever. I’m not saying there’s anything there beyond physical attraction, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, looking at you like you were the worst liar in the world. “Whatever you say.”

You grumbled and went inside to take a very cold shower.

Three Days Later - Spokane, Washington

“Hey, Colt,” you said, pushing up the long sleeves of Russell’s gray henley you wore. Colter hummed around the piece of grilled chicken in his mouth as you spun your laptop around from the other side of the airstream’s dining table. “Could she have gone here? Looks like a decommissioned game trail.”

“Yeah, yeah that fits,” he said with his mouth full, chewing and swallowing quickly so he could take a closer look. You returned to your own dinner, Colter mentioning he was going to take a look after dark.

Things had fallen into an easy pattern with the two of you. Colter was very different than his brother but it wasn’t a bad thing. He didn’t talk much and worked as a rewardist. He’d planned on sticking around the east coast for when Russell met up with you again but an urgent case in Washington popped up. You’d spent most of the past three days driving cross-country behind Colter’s truck and the airstreamer, learning what the hell a rewardist was.

Colter had told you about the case at first to keep your mind off of Russell but you’d reluctantly taken an interest and now were deep in the weeds of helping him locate a missing young woman.

“You want to come look with me?” asked Colter, breaking you out of your train of thought. You blinked, a small smile on his face. “Come on. It’ll get you some experience with rewardest work and stop you from doom scrolling.”

“Alright,” you sighed. While you appreciated Colter’s attempts to make you feel better, you were starting to get very concerned. You hadn’t heard from Russell since you left your house a few days ago and there was nothing in the news about the local mafia members being killed. Or him.

Colter rubbed your back when you helped him unhook it from the airstream. He tended to do that when you started to get stressed out. He hadn’t been lying before. He really was good at reading people.

“Colter,” you said in the dark truck, the hum of the vehicle quiet in the cab as he drove. “What if something happened to him and he needs our help?”

“He knows what he’s doing. A job like this, he’s got to do a lot of prep work and he’s got to put a crew together. Trusted friends. Try not to worry.” You bit your bottom lip as you stared out the window, trees passing by.

If only it were that simple.

It was two in the morning by the time you and Colter made it back to the camping grounds. You’d found Martha in not too great of shape but she was alive and the doctors said she’d make a full recovery with time. Colter has tried to give you some of the reward money for helping but you hadn’t done all that much in your opinion.

“Stay here,” he said when he turned the truck into your lot and you spotted a dark figure sitting by the fire. He took his gun from the back of jeans and got out, pausing halfway out the door. He smiled over at you and you caught the dark figure give an awkward little wave. “Should I tell him how much you’ve been worried?”

“Not. A. Word. Colter,” you said before hopping out and happily rushing over to where Russell rose to his feet. You didn’t realize you were giving him a hug until he was laughing, returning it and lifting you off the ground.

“I missed my queen of darkness too,” he chuckled, setting you down with a smirk. You scoffed, Russell’s eyebrows raising at your attire. “Is that my jacket? And shirt?”

“Why waste the money on new stuff,” you shrugged, Russell grinning like an idiot. “Stop that.”

“I’m sure that was the reason.” Colter came over, the boys sharing a nod. “You keep my little delinquent out of trouble?”

“She’s a breeze,” said Colter, taking a seat. “Even helped with my latest case. She should try the rewardist thing. She’s good at it.”

“Maybe. All I want to know is am I good?” you asked. Russell took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. He nodded, the tension running of out your body. “Thank you, Russell. Thank your friends too. I’ll pay you guys-”

“No payment. This was because you’re my friend, plain and simple. Just knowing you’re safe is more than enough.” You smiled, letting yourself rest your head against his shoulder. “You should rest. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“How-”

“In the morning. I need to catch up with my little brother.” You nodded, enjoying the feel of his heavy hand as it ran over your head. “Go sleep, Y/N. You’re exhausted.”

You reluctantly peeled yourself away and went inside to find your makeshift bed had been done up for you already. You didn’t even try to fight the flutters in your stomach when you spotted a yellow pajama shirt and shorts set neatly folded on top. There was a note beside it, a stupid ass smile finding it’s way onto your face.

Brand new. Imported from France. Don’t get used to fancy ass presents like these. I ain’t made of money. Even if these are soft as fuck and I totally wish they made these for men. I still think you’d look better wearing a band tee to bed.

Russ

P.S. They had a sale so I got you something else too. Check your backpack.

You shook your head and grabbed your bag from the floor, taking out a very elegant black bag. You undid the tissue paper and went wide eyed.

Inside was a very, very, fancy black lace bra and multiple pairs of gorgeous bikini style undies in soft muted colors. There was another note waiting for you inside, your heart stilling.

No strings attached. Hopefully these will cover you for a little while until you can get settled again.

“Oh, Russell,” you said quietly, thumbing over the bag, smiling to yourself as your insides did very happy backflips.

He wasn’t just a pretty and protective face. He was thoughtful too.

And you were starting to fall for a guy that’d most likely be gone by this time tomorrow.

Fuck.

__________

A/N: Read Part 3 here!

#wayne reads #fic rec #amazing writers 🤍#russell shaw #russell shaw x reader

404 notes · View notes

loveesiren · 19 hours ago

Text

𝖢𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝖬𝗒 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 (𝖯𝗍. 3)

Choi Seunghyun x f!reader x Kwon Jiyong | Masterlist

a/n: This part is longggg, but here's part three! I hope you guys enjoy. I feel like I'm moving past this hump and can finally get into the fucking terrible shit I have planned lol.

synopsis: Y/n and Seunghyun are finally official. But Jiyong begins to struggle with his true emotions between his best friend and his best friends girlfriend

warnings: angst, language, mentions of sex

wc: 5k+

You’d barely seen Jiyong over the last few days. If he was in the building, he was everywhere except where you were. You were grateful for that—grateful that you didn’t have to sit through another one of his cold stares or the snide remarks he loved to throw your way. It was easier this way.

Seunghyun, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Every chance he got, he was near you, talking to you, looking for an excuse to keep you company. He asked to see your sketches, offered to help with anything you needed, even brought you coffee without you asking.

“Aren’t I technically the one who works for you?” you mused, a small smile tugging at your lips as he handed you the cup.

He grinned, settling down beside you. “You’re our stylist, Y/n, not our assistant. You have one of the most important jobs here.”

“Is that so?” You arched a brow, amused by his enthusiasm.

“Yeah. I mean, without you, I’d be going out on stage like this.” He leaned back, motioning to his current outfit—gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, a well-worn Pink Floyd t-shirt hugging his frame. His hair was still damp from a recent shower, slightly tousled, and the scent of his cologne lingered in the air between you.

You bit your lip, eyes dragging over him before you could stop yourself. You liked him like this—casual, comfortable, completely unbothered.

“Miss Y/l/n,” Seunghyun smirked, his voice teasing. “Are you checking me out?”

Your cheeks burned instantly. “I-uh…” You scrambled for a response, but nothing came.

He laughed, leaning in just slightly. “I’m just teasing you.” A beat passed before he added, voice softer, “But I wouldn’t mind if you were.”

His words sent a wave of warmth through your chest, and you found yourself laughing with him.

A sharp knock at the studio door interrupted the moment.

“Yo, lovebirds.”

Your stomach twisted at the sound of Jiyong’s voice. His tone was laced with something unreadable, but his expression gave nothing away as he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. The moment your eyes met his, your smile faltered.

“Sorry to break it up, but YG’s looking for you,” he said, directing his words at Seunghyun.

Seunghyun let out a dramatic sigh but stood without hesitation. “Wait for me? So I can walk you to your car?”

You nodded, offering a small smile. He returned it before jogging out of the room.

Jiyong, however, didn’t move. He lingered, eyes scanning over you with something close to scrutiny. The silence stretched between you, thick and suffocating.

You shifted in your seat, suddenly uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Seems like things are going well,” he said, voice dripping with something sharp.

You swallowed. “Uhm, yeah… Thank you. For not telling him, I mean.”

Jiyong sighed, finally pushing himself off the doorframe and sauntering into the room. He flopped onto the couch behind you, stretching out like he had nowhere better to be.

“Yeah, well…” He exhaled, running his fingers over the rings on his hand. “You’re not worth losing my best friend over.”

The words stung more than you wanted to admit. But they weren’t untrue. Seunghyun didn’t deserve to get caught in the crossfire of whatever dysfunctional thing you and Jiyong had once been.

“He’s gonna ask you out again, by the way,” Jiyong muttered, his fingers fidgeting with the silver bands. “He doesn’t shut up about you.”

Your lips twitched slightly, despite yourself.

Jiyong saw the expression you tried to hide and rolled his eyes. He hated you. At least, that’s what he told himself. The two of you always had problems, always found a reason to fight. It had been that way for years.

But lately… something was different.

Ever since that last night you spent tangled in your sheets, your nails dragging down his back as you moaned his name. Ever since you looked him in the eyes and told him you were done.

He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about you.

Normally, he’d start a fight. He’d push your buttons, get under your skin, rile you up until you were breathless with frustration. Because he knew the more he pissed you off, the needier you’d get for him. It was a cycle. A toxic, fucked-up cycle.

But now? What was the point?

He could be cruel, sure. Tell everyone the truth. But where would that leave him? You weren’t his to take his frustration out on anymore. He’d handed you to Seunghyun on a silver fucking platter.

And for the first time, he felt hollow.

The door creaked open again. “Wow, the two of you in the same room without screaming? Are pigs flying?”

Seunghyun’s voice was light, teasing, but Jiyong stood immediately, forcing out a chuckle. “Don’t worry, I just finished yelling at her about the stupid outfit she’s designing for me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I like the outfit you’re designing for him,” Seunghyun said, smiling down at you as he approached.

You met his gaze, something apologetic in your expression. Every time the two of them were in the same room, your heart pounded in your chest, the weight of your secret pressing against your ribs.

“Can I walk you to your car?” Seunghyun asked, pulling you from your thoughts.

You blinked, then nodded. “Yeah! Of course.” Quickly, you shut your sketchbook, stuffing it into your bag.

Seunghyun held out his hand, and you hesitated only for a second before lacing your fingers with his. His palm was warm against yours. The two of you walked in comfortable silence through the building, the cool night air greeting you as you stepped outside.

When you reached your car, Seunghyun moved ahead, opening the door for you. His fingers lingered against the edge of the window frame as he leaned in slightly, resting his chin on his arms. His eyes traced over your face, soft and admiring.

“Would you like to go out with me again?” His voice was steady, more confident this time.

You smiled wide. “I’d like that.”

His lips curled into a grin. “You free Saturday?”

“As long as I finish up these sketches.”

“Well, get to sketching then. I’ll pick you up around eleven.”

“A.M.? Where are you taking me?” you giggled.

“Somewhere special.” He winked. “Drive safe.”

Before you could react, he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. Then, just as quickly, he backed away, smiling as he watched you drive off.

From across the parking lot, Jiyong watched, a bitter taste settling on his tongue. He exhaled a slow breath of smoke, making his way over to Seunghyun.

“What’d she say?” He tried to sound casually curious, not completely jealous.

“She said yes.” Seunghyun’s eyes remained locked on your disappearing car, his voice filled with something close to wonder. “Come on, let’s go celebrate.” He clapped Jiyong’s shoulder.

Jiyong scoffed, taking a slow drag of his cigarette. “We’re celebrating you asking a girl out on a date?”

“Not just any girl, Ji. Y/n!” Seunghyun’s smile was soft. “I’ve been into her for years. Just never had the confidence to ask her out until now.”

Jiyong knew that. He had always known. The first time he had you, he’d felt sick about it—knowing how much Seunghyun admired you.

But that night, when you had screamed his name like he was the only thing that mattered—he had started to understand why his best friend was so into you.

Jiyong exhaled, flicking his cigarette to the ground. “First round’s on me, then.”

And with that, he slung an arm over his best friend’s shoulder, heading toward the bar—swallowing his jealousy like another shot of whiskey.

Once again, you tore clothes from the hangers, trying them on and discarding them just as quickly. Frustration bubbled inside you—how were you supposed to pick the perfect outfit when Seunghyun refused to tell you where he was taking you?

You had texted him the night before, practically pleading for a hint. All he had given you was cute and casual. As if that didn’t encompass a million different possibilities.

With a sigh, you finally settled on a black skirt and tights, a gray sweater, and chunky black heels. You grabbed your red Prada bag and made your way to the mirror to assess your look. Casual—but not too casual. A balance between effortless and put-together. You could blend in just about anywhere.

After styling your hair into loose curls and adorning yourself with delicate silver jewelry, your phone vibrated. A hopeful smile tugged at your lips as you reached for it, expecting a message from Seunghyun. But the moment you saw the sender, your heart sank.

YG: GD and Taeyang need their hair done by Monday for an interview.

You exhaled sharply, rolling your eyes. There was little you wanted to do less than spend time with Jiyong. But work was work. Tamping down your irritation, you typed a quick response: I’m out of town today, but I can squeeze them in tomorrow.

Before you could dwell on it, the doorbell rang.

Excitement replaced disappointment as you rushed to answer it, a warm flutter in your chest. Swinging the door open, you found Seunghyun standing there, his signature smile in place, holding yet another flower—this time, a pink lily.

“Hi,” you greeted, your voice tinged with a shy warmth as you leaned against the doorframe.

“Hi.” His deep voice was soft, affectionate.

You took the lily from his hand, bringing it to your nose to inhale its delicate scent. He always did this—always brought you something new. A small, thoughtful gesture that never failed to make your heart stutter.

“Is this okay?” you asked, motioning to your outfit, suddenly self-conscious under his gaze.

His dark eyes swept over you, appreciation flickering across his features before he met your eyes again. “You look perfect,” he murmured. The sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch.

Your lips curled into a smile. “One sec!” You darted to the kitchen, carefully placing the lily in the vase where the growing collection of flowers sat on your counter. The sight of them, a soft blend of colors and petals, made your chest tighten with something unfamiliar yet undeniably warm.

Returning to the door, you slipped your hand into his as he offered it to you, his fingers wrapping around yours in a way that felt both natural and reassuring. He led you to the sleek black car waiting at the curb.

Ever the gentleman, Seunghyun opened the door for you, helping you inside before circling around to slide in beside you before he told the driver where to go.

“Royal treatment today?” you teased, raising a playful brow.

He chuckled, reaching for the bottle of wine nestled in ice between you. “Can’t drink and drive,” he said, pouring you a glass. The deep red liquid shimmered under the soft interior lights as he handed it to you. “Wine?”

You accepted with a grin, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. The rich, velvety taste lingered on your tongue, unfamiliar yet decadent.

You hadn’t experienced such a luxury in a long time. Sure, Jiyong had the same access to these things, but never once were you worth it to him. You were there when he needed to take his frustrations out, that was it. Never worth a date.

You pushed thoughts of Jiyong aside, unwilling to let him taint the moment.

“So,” you said, tilting your head with curiosity, “are you finally going to tell me where we’re going?”

Seunghyun laughed, shaking his head. “Patience isn’t your strong suit, is it, Y/n?”

“Nah, not really,” you admitted with a smirk.

“Well,” he began, swirling the wine in his glass, “I’m taking you to an art museum. A new one that just opened a few months ago. I haven’t had the chance to go yet, and I figured it’d be more exciting with the company of a pretty woman.”

Your heart fluttered. He remembered. He had noticed the vibrant artwork that adorned your walls, had paid attention when you talked about your love for design. Art was always something the two of you could connect over.

“That sounds perfect,” you said, voice softer now.

“Good,” he replied, his lips curving into a pleased smile. “And, if you’re not too sick of me by the end of the day, I made dinner reservations.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the giddy warmth spreading through you.

It had been so long since someone had treated you like this—with patience, with intention, with genuine care.

Seunghyun made your heart feel something you hadn’t in a long time. Safe.

Excited for the day ahead, you clinked your glass against his once more. “I don’t think I could ever get sick of you.”

His gaze held yours for a moment longer than necessary before he chuckled, shaking his head. “We’ll see about that.”

Seunghyun’s hand was warm in yours as the two of you wandered through the museum, the rhythmic click of your heels against the polished floor the only sound between murmured conversations and the soft classical music playing overhead. Every so often, his fingers would graze your shoulder, a light, fleeting touch on the small of your back as you both stopped in front of different paintings, soaking in the stories they told.

You could feel his gaze on you, more often than on the art, but you pretended not to notice.

“I think this one is my favorite,” Seunghyun said finally, his voice carrying a quiet reverence.

You turned to see him standing before an oil painting of a woman seated on the edge of an ocean cliff, the sea stretching endlessly before her. The wind played through her hair, her eyes closed, her lips curved in an effortless, serene smile. There was something ethereal about her—like she existed in a moment of pure, untainted happiness.

You swallowed. You wondered if you would ever feel that free.

“Why this one?” you asked softly.

He tilted his head, studying the piece a moment longer before answering. “Reminds me of you.”

Your eyes widened slightly as you turned to him. “It does?”

“Yeah.” He glanced down at you, the corner of his lips tugging into a small smile. “Beautiful. Carefree. Innocent.”

Your stomach twisted, and before you could stop yourself, you bit your lip. Innocent. If only he knew.

“I’m not that innocent, Seunghyun…” you murmured, eyes dropping to the floor.

He turned to fully face you, his presence grounding. “We’ve all made mistakes in the past. That doesn’t take away from who you are now.” His voice was steady, assured, as if there was no room for debate.

You hesitated before looking up at him. His eyes, dark and unwavering behind his glasses, searched yours. And yet, you couldn't hold his gaze for long. Your heart pounded at the unspoken truths pressing against your ribs—the weight of Jiyong, the memories of tangled sheets and burning touches, of moans swallowed by hungry lips. And here you were now, standing beside his best friend, holding his hand like you weren’t carrying secrets that could ruin everything.

“I-I’m scared that if you knew about my past,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper, “you wouldn’t like me anymore. Not even as a friend.”

Seunghyun exhaled, his fingers gently squeezing yours. “I have a past too, Y/n.” His voice softened. “Nothing could make me not like you.”

You searched his face for any hint of hesitation, but there was none. Only sincerity. Only warmth.

Swallowing thickly, you forced a smile. You weren’t ready to tell him everything—not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Come on,” he said, giving your hand another squeeze before pulling you toward the next room.

You let yourself follow him, forcing away the gnawing guilt in your stomach.

By the time you reached the last exhibit, your stomach growled loud enough to make Seunghyun chuckle.

“So,” he teased, turning to you with a smirk, “are you sick of me yet?”

“Never.” You smiled, meaning it.

“Good,” he grinned, slipping his arm around your waist as he guided you toward the exit. “Because I’m starving. Let’s go to dinner.”

You were still laughing when the car pulled up to the restaurant, but as soon as you saw where he had brought you, your breath caught in your throat.

Jungsik.

Your lips parted in disbelief. The elegant gold-lettered sign gleamed under the city lights. It was one of the most luxurious restaurants in Seoul—where only the elite dined, where reservations were booked months in advance, where the price of a single meal could make your rent look laughable.

“Seunghyun…” you started, turning to him. “We can’t eat here.”

His brows furrowed slightly. “Why not?”

“This place is so expensive and I—I’m underdressed.” You gestured to your casual sweater and boot-like heels, suddenly feeling out of place.

He shook his head, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “You look beautiful.” His voice left no room for argument. “And don’t worry about the money. Order whatever you want.”

You exhaled, reluctantly following him inside, but the moment you stepped through the doors, the discomfort settled deep in your bones.

The hosts immediately recognized Seunghyun, their professional composure faltering as excitement flickered in their eyes. Still, they kept their voices steady, ushering you toward a private room. But the way their gazes flickered to you, the subtle downturn of their lips, didn’t go unnoticed.

You knew that look.

It was the same look people always gave when they saw a woman with a man like him. A silent judgment, a question they didn’t dare to voice.

What is she doing with him?

Seunghyun, seemingly oblivious, held your hand firmly as you entered the intimate dining space. He pulled out your chair for you, his touch lingering as you sat down.

“This is really nice,” you admitted, looking around at the dimly lit room, the perfectly set table, the candlelight flickering between you. “You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“I wanted to,” he said simply, his voice softer now. “I really like you, Y/n…” He hesitated, rubbing his palms together. “And I kind of wanted to ask you something.”

Your heartbeat stuttered.

You glanced up at him, his expression unusually nervous. It was…endearing. Seunghyun, the man known for his confidence, for his composed demeanor, was hesitating.

“What is it?” you asked, tilting your head.

He exhaled, adjusting his glasses before finally meeting your gaze.

“I was kind of hoping that we could be… exclusive.” His lips pressed together as he studied your reaction.

You blinked. Was he trying to ask you to be his—

“Like… in a relationship,” he clarified quickly, his voice almost sheepish.

A slow smile crept onto your lips. “Seunghyun, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?”

He let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I am. Sorry, I haven’t dated in a long time…”

You should have been ecstatic.

You were happy. Seunghyun was sweet, thoughtful—he treated you better than you had been treated in years. But as you opened your mouth to answer, your mind betrayed you.

Flashes of Jiyong. His hands tangled in your hair, his voice rough with need as he whispered filthy things into your ear. His lips ghosting over your skin, his grip possessive, his body pressing into yours with reckless abandon.

Your stomach twisted violently.

No. That was over. It never meant anything. It was time to move forward.

You inhaled sharply. “Yes.”

Seunghyun’s eyes widened slightly. “Yes?”

You nodded, pushing the lingering thoughts of Jiyong into the furthest corners of your mind. “I really like you too, Seunghyun.” That was the truth. The only truth you could hold onto right now.

His lips curved into the most genuine, heartwarming smile you had ever seen. He ducked his head with a nervous chuckle, and you found yourself staring, captivated by how cute he was.

And yet, despite the happiness bubbling in your chest, that gnawing feeling in your gut refused to disappear.

Seunghyun walked you to your front door beneath a soft glow of streetlights, the cool night air mingling with the warmth of your shared smiles. Every step felt charged with anticipation, and as you paused at the doorstep, his gentle voice broke the quiet. “Does this mean I get to kiss you goodnight?” he murmured, his tone soft.

A blush warmed your cheeks as you met his eyes. “I’d be offended if you didn’t,” you replied, your words light and teasing. The playful banter hung in the space between you like an invitation.

Taking a slow, deliberate step forward, Seunghyun’s hands moved with tender precision. His fingers brushed through your hair, delicately pushing stray strands behind your ear before cupping your cheek with a warmth that made your heart flutter. For a moment, time seemed to pause—the distant hum of the city and the gentle rustle of leaves in the night a perfect backdrop to this intimate scene.

Leaning closer, his gaze never wavering from yours, you instinctively lifted onto your tippy toes, your hands resting lightly on his broad shoulders. The distance between you shrank until his face was only inches away from yours. His lips met yours in a soft, gentle kiss that felt both new and achingly familiar. In that single, suspended moment, you sensed the delicate interplay of passion and tenderness—a kiss that carried the sweetness of unspoken promises and the flutter of butterflies dancing wildly in your stomach.

As your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, every touch and every heartbeat deepened the connection between you. Slowly, reluctantly, you broke the kiss, your lips parting with a lingering sense of wonder.

Biting your lip, you gazed up at him through long, fluttering lashes as he whispered a quiet “Woah…” His husky tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but giggle—a sound that mingled with the night’s serene melody.

Gathering your courage, you softly asked, “Do you… want to come inside? We could watch a movie or something…” The invitation was gentle yet filled with hopeful vulnerability.

His smile widened, lighting up the dim night as he replied with playful earnestness, “Can I kiss you more?”

With a delighted giggle and a nod that spoke volumes, you fumbled for your keys. The simple click of the lock unlocking became the opening note of a new chapter, a promise of more shared moments, more whispered secrets, and more kisses waiting in the quiet sanctuary of your home.

The bright morning sun pierced through your eyelids, its warmth a stark contrast to the cool air still clinging to the room. You stirred uncomfortably, groaning as you turned your face away from the light. That’s when you felt it—a strong, steady arm wrapped around your waist, holding you securely. Your entire body tensed for a split second, your heart pounding as memories of past mornings with Jiyong rushed through your mind like an uninvited ghost.

But then, reality settled in, wiping away the bitter taste of regret. Last night’s events played in your head like a hazy but beautiful dream—your date with Seunghyun, the way he looked at you under the dim glow of streetlights, the soft confession that led to him asking you to be his girlfriend. The way he kissed you at your doorstep… and every kiss that followed.

A slow smile curled at your lips as you relaxed into his warmth, allowing yourself to savor the unfamiliar but welcome sensation of waking up in his arms. No guilt. No shame. No rushing to untangle yourself and sneak out of a bed that wasn’t yours to stay in. You were exactly where you wanted to be. Fully clothed, wrapped up in the arms of your boyfriend.

Boyfriend. The word settled in your chest, unfamiliar but thrilling.

Carefully, you sat up, trying not to wake him. Seunghyun’s grip loosened slightly, but he remained fast asleep, his lips parted as soft snores escaped. You couldn’t help but smile, watching him for a moment longer than necessary. He looked peaceful, and God, was he handsome—long lashes resting against his skin, dark hair a mess against the pillow. A warmth spread through your chest as you resisted the urge to reach out and trace your fingers along his jaw.

Shaking yourself out of your daze, you reached for your phone on the coffee table and began scrolling through your messages. The moment of peace shattered instantly.

“Shit…” you muttered under your breath, your stomach sinking at the reminder staring back at you. Your so-called day off had just been hijacked. Jiyong and Taeyang needed their hair done before tomorrow’s interview.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?”

Seunghyun’s raspy voice, still thick with sleep, sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes remained closed as he reached for you, fingers grazing your wrist before wrapping around your waist to pull you back against him.

You sighed, letting yourself melt into his hold. “I forgot Jiyong and Youngbae have an interview tomorrow. I have to do their hair today.” A pout formed on your lips as you snuggled into his chest. “I just wanna lay here with you all day.”

Seunghyun let out a low hum, his lips pressing a lazy kiss against your temple. “Mmm, me too,” he whispered. “What if they just came here? Then we don’t have to get dressed, don’t have to drive to the studio… and I can make you breakfast.”

The idea was tempting. Youngbae was always easy going—you actually enjoyed spending time with him. But Jiyong… the last time he was in your house, your nails had been digging into his back as you moaned his name into the night.

Your stomach twisted at the memory.

You swallowed hard, forcing the thought away before it could drag you down into dangerous territory. “That sounds nice,” you murmured instead.

You shot off a quick text to the boys, and an hour later, there was a knock at your door. Seunghyun answered, while you stood in the living room, preparing everything you needed.

“Y/n!” Taeyang’s voice rang through the space as he entered, immediately pulling you into a warm hug. “How are you?!”

“I’m good! How are you?” you asked, laughing as he gave you a quick spin before setting you back down.

“Great! Can’t wait for you to work your magic on this mess,” he grinned, ruffling his already-disheveled hair.

Your gaze flickered past him just as Jiyong walked in, his presence filling the room with an unspoken weight. He barely acknowledged you as he plopped onto the couch, phone in hand, fingers immediately scrolling through his feed.

“Hey,” he said flatly.

You returned the greeting with the same lack of enthusiasm. “Hey.”

The exchange seemed normal enough to Seunghyun and Taeyang, but beneath the surface, the tension between you and Jiyong crackled like a live wire.

Trying to ignore the feeling gnawing at your gut, you focused on Youngbae’s hair, assessing what needed to be done. Just a little bleach, a little dye—nothing too complicated.

Seunghyun approached you, holding out a piece of crispy bacon. You glanced up at him and smiled, accepting the bite as he fed you.

“Thank you, babe.”

“Oooooh,” Taeyang drawled, grinning mischievously. “Are you guys dating now?”

Seunghyun beamed. “Yeah. I asked her last night over dinner.” He fed you another bite, his smile wide with pride. You chewed, feeling suddenly shy under the attention.

“No shit?!” Taeyang laughed. “Well, congratulations! You guys are a cute couple.”

Seunghyun leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your lips before heading back to the kitchen, his mood light and carefree.

You swallowed, your hands suddenly clumsy as you mixed the dye. Something told you to look behind you.

Jiyong.

He sat stiffly on the couch, his phone forgotten in his lap, his jaw clenched. His leg bounced restlessly, the violent motion betraying the storm brewing inside him.

“I need a smoke,” he muttered before pushing up from the couch and making his way toward the balcony.

Seunghyun watched him go, a look of confusion flashing across his face before he followed.

Out on the porch, the air was thick with unspoken words.

“You good?” Seunghyun asked, lighting his own cigarette.

Jiyong took a long drag, exhaling a slow stream of smoke before responding. “Yeah, I’m good, man.”

“You seem tense.”

Jiyong hesitated before speaking. “It’s just… this girl.”

Seunghyun raised a brow. “Girl? I didn’t know you had a girl.”

Jiyong let out a dry chuckle. “She’s not really my girl. We just fucked.”

“Ahhh,” Seunghyun grinned. “But you like her?”

Jiyong pressed his lips together, his jaw tightening as he stared at the city skyline. He could lie. He could brush it off like he always did. But for some reason, the words didn’t come.

Seunghyun took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling before speaking. “Dude, I know you hate getting close to girls. But if she’s worth it, you gotta find a way.”

Jiyong let out a bitter laugh. “Trust me, it’s not that simple.”

“Well, you deserve a good woman. But you have to put in the effort to get her.” Seunghyun glanced through the window, smiling at the sight of you laughing with Youngbae. “It took me a while, but I finally asked Y/n out. And she said yes, man! She’s my fucking girlfriend!”

Jiyong squeezed his eyes shut. The words hit him harder than they should have. He flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his shoe before turning to face Seunghyun.

“You’re right, man. Thanks. And… you and Y/n are great together. I’m happy for you.” He forced a smile, clapping a hand on Seunghyun’s shoulder. But inside, he was unraveling. Because he wasn’t happy for him.

He wasn’t happy at all.

He was supposed to hate you. But watching you now—happy, glowing, wrapped up in Seunghyun’s affection—he didn’t hate you.

He needed you.

And that realization made him want to tear the whole damn world apart.

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! :)

Tags: @fr3akyyg1rll @heuningpie @sapph1r3x @moondooll @tranquilty @noharaaa @mariaxman @dear-satan @infinetlyforgotten @staryscorner @blu-brrys @come-as-you-are-111 @nicklet94 @vamplivivi @3mma-lovely @hanadulsetaad @sayugarper @forevervibezzzz1 @shieraseastarrs @mooonologyy @skzdreamz @stillpervert @seunghyunwifey @juliskopf @mirahyun @mattsturniolosbabymama @kai-277 @rotten-toenails @i-might-be-vanny @zzhengyu @petersasteria @manuzicaveyr @maskedcrawford @gdinthehouseee @aishallnotbefound @babygirlewis @multifanxtvshows @readin0nsense @anonymip @lilysdoll @uuchii @pinkpunkdynamite @lariem-blog2 @sherxoo @honeyblossom112-2 @succulentpk @topluvr @bvbgirl21 @1950schick @gdgirl21

135 notes · View notes