lovemarkvn

[hannieehaee]

i’ve been thinking about this a lot- imagine being in a long distance relationship (online) with svt and meeting them for the first time, would they be shy, awkward, clingy, horny…? if not with every member it’s okay only hoshi🤧 i love your work so much you’re one of the first seventeen writers i’ve followed

18+ / mdi

meeting a long-distance s/o for the first time

content: established relationship, long distance, fluff, mentions of sex, etc.

wc: 935

a/n: this was so cute to write!! sorry it took me months</3

masterlist

seungcheol -

he's imagined meeting you for ages, so he'd make sure he looked as pristine as possible for your first meeting. would want you to wanna jump his bones upon the first meeting, knowing that his dumb boy hormones would probably get the best of him as soon as he smelled your perfume. however! he'd be the perfect gentleman as he got used to your presence, wowing you being his main goal.

jeonghan -

for once, he'd have no words. you'd have caught him off guard at first, making him gape at you the moment he saw you until regaining his senses. he'd be incredibly cuddly and accustomed to you within less than an hour. would act as if this was your day to day life and whine at any mention of future separation.

joshua -

as smooth as he is, he'd be a little awkward around you the first time. despite knowing you so well and speaking to you literally every single day, having you in person would just make him incredibly nervous for some reason. it'd be so out of character for him, constantly slapping himself mentally, thinking he was embarrassing himself. in the end, though, you'd just be equally endeared by him.

jun -

becomes the clingiest person alive. even though he can sometimes come off as shy, he'll somehow just not feel that at all with you even if it's your first time meeting in person. he'll feel this emotional pull to you that would scream at him to keep himself glued to you as much as possible. just completely enamored by you immediately. honeymoon phase but on steroids.

soonyoung -

a mixture of nervous, happy and horny. he'd start off by being nervous, having never thought it to be possible to grow so infatuated with someone through an online relationship. he'd move onto an intense sense of happiness the moment he finally held you, believing this to easily be one of the best moments of his life. lastly, he'd only last so long until beginning to feel horny, having you so close to him and remembering all those nights he wished to feel you in person.

wonwoo -

he'd be the type to stand at the airport with a little sign as he waited for you, a silly grin on his face the moment he spotted you. the sign would be damned as soon as you were near enough for him to hug you. you'd be that annoying couple at the airport that's just morphed into one another, but he wouldn't care. he'd stay there for as long as humanly possible.

jihoon -

so anxious about it he almost doesnt show up lol. would have to be physically pushed by one of his members to actually show up bc of how nervous he was about meeting you for the first time. what if you weren't into him? what if you were disappointed? would have to slap himself at having had those thoughts the moment he actually met you, realizing it was all in his head.

seokmin -

he'd literally cry at seeing you for the first time. would have to be held back from doing one of those cheesy encounters where you run into each other's arms at the airport. he literally becomes glued to you afterwards, cheeks hurting from how happy he is to finally have you here with him.

mingyu -

he'd be so sure he wouldnt cry, but he still would lol. he'd be smiling all through it, though. would hug you and that'd be the last time you were ever physically apart bc he'd be somehow touching you at every waking moment, not wanting a second of separation bc you've already been apart for so long. he'd wanna wait a little while to get further than that, but you best believe he'll be thinking about it from the moment he saw you.

minghao -

he knows distance makes the heart go fonder, so he doesnt mind the nature of your relationship. still, he'd be so happy to finally see you, feeling flustered and shy upon the first meeting. it'd be filled with fleeting touches and timid eye contact. but regardless of this, you'd somehow still end up in bed together. his love for you just needed to manifest in the most physical way possible to make up for lost time.

seungkwan -

as much as he'd wanna use his charismatic mc personality to break the ice, he'd still be the shiest thing around you at first. he'd take a little while to get rid of his awkwardness, just too into you to act like a regular human being. even hand holding would feel a little awkward, but he'd push through his shyness to be close to you.

vernon -

as per usual, he'd be a little more chill about it. would be a bit anxious but would not let it show. as soon as you met, though, all nerves would leave him. he'd be more physically affectionate than usual as he made up for all the time in which he didn't have you in his presence. it also wouldn't take long into your shared proximity for him to want to take things further.

chan -

he'd be so embarrassingly excited to meet you for the first time, all his members would be forced to hear about it, even knowing the mere minute in which you were landing bc chan just would not shut up. the moment would be touching and full of hugs and shy giggles, but soon enough it'd turn into taking you back home and not letting you out of his bed for an entire week.

[sp-ud]

And while I'm on my Mouthwashing analysis arc, I had some realizations about how I think Daisuke's character plays into the message Mouthwashing is trying to tell about the cycle of rape culture, inaction, and how workplace environments are a key part of why the cycle is in place.

So my realization started with me complaining about how people often go "If Daisuke had known what happened to Anya he would have-" because we don't truly know what he would have done. Then I realized, actually maybe that's the point of Daisuke in Mouthwashing.

What I mean by that is he's the youngest of the crew, not only that but he literally has no other real job experience. He's incredibly new to all of this, he doesn't know the culture and is looking at those around him, his superiors, for direction and guidance. He's a young adult who still has starry eyes and is trying his best to live up to the expectations everyone around him has even though he feels personally directionless and unsure where he wants to go in life.

Things I think a lot of Mouthwashing's audience can relate to those aspects of Daisuke, or at least significant parts of him. And I think that is the key to understanding Daisuke's purpose in a story like Mouthwashing, to be someone likeable that the audience can see themselves reflected in.

Bringing this back to how I think this plays into the message of Mouthwashing. I think the fact that we ultimately don't know what Daisuke would do if he learned that Jimmy raped Anya is important.

Because we can't 100% say that he would do anything. Because his actions within the story honestly indicate it could go either way in my opinion. Specifically what he does when Anya has locked herself in the medical room.

On one hand, we have the fact that despite him having a better relationship with Swansea and being unsure if drugging him is okay or not, he still goes with it as it's what Jimmy, the current acting captain, is saying to do. He questions it but he doesn't protest or take a different action. He deferred to the highest authority in the situation, even though he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do, even though it involved tricking his mentor who he clearly looks up to more than he does Jimmy.

But on the other hand, we also see him directly going against what Swansea told him about not going near that vent because he could get hurt, for Anya's sake. Willing to ignore what he was instructed to do just to have a chance at saving Anya. And even after he was hurt he still kept going, he still pulled himself up and unlocked the door.

So, if Anya had told him, what would he have done? Would he have risked his own standing and possibly even his safety with the higher authority figures for her sake? For doing what's right? Or would he be scared? Perhaps see the others inaction and follow their example even if he felt it wasn't the right thing to do?

What would you have done? What will you do if a co-worker/friend confides in you that someone else you know, perhaps even a higher up, sexually assaulted them?

And that's why even though what prompted me thinking about Daisuke's role was me being annoyed at people who focus on "What Daisuke would have done if knew?", I now see it differently. As people reflecting what they hope they'd do if in a similar situation on to Daisuke, and I think that's the point of his character in Mouthwashing and why we aren't given an indication of a clear answer.

To have us acknowledge that no, in reality, it can be hard to do what's right. That sometimes we will play into these toxic and harmful cultures even if we know it's wrong. And sometimes we might do it without even realizing it.

But that doesn't make anyone a bad person. Because we do want to do what's right, we don't want to be compliant in this cycle anymore. And acknowledging that it will be hard isn't saying that we shouldn't even try, it's just acknowledging that it'll be hard.

Daisuke represents the hope that things can improve while not ignoring the uncertainty many people have if it's even possible for things to get better.

[redrose10]

Since I’ve been really stressed and anxious and it’s Halloween today I distracted myself by writing this. It’s a continuation of 1800s witch Yoongi from this post. I hope everyone likes it!

Witch Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, hints of smut, jealous possessive Yoongi

Word Count: 2,703

For the last year you had been living with your boyfriend Yoongi, the two hundred year old witch that you accidentally freed from the Twilight. You experienced lots of ups and downs over the course of your relationship just like any couple would except when mad your boyfriend wouldn’t just storm off but instead would vanish into thin air. You also had a dedicated cabinet in your kitchen full of things you thought only existed in fairytales like eye of newt and a lock of werewolf fur.

For the most part Yoongi was great though. He was kind and thoughtful and made you laugh even if he wasn’t trying.

You always had a warm towel waiting for you after your shower. The dryer was one of his favorite modern appliances according to him.

You woke up to a fresh cup of coffee every morning, usually pumpkin spice flavored. Some mornings he tried to cook you breakfast but the microwave still made him nervous. He said it was unnatural and dangerous and he didn’t trust it.

He carried your purse when it was too heavy and he would rub your feet after a long day.

And the sex…the sex was amazingly incredible. You weren’t sure if it was a witch thing or just a Yoongi thing but he left you speechless Every. Single. Time.

While you knew he wasn’t a man of many words it did hurt a little that after a year together he still hadn’t said he loved you.

You said it. The first time was after dating for five months. It was very cliché and right after an amazing night of sex. Yoongi just nodded and quickly ran off to the shower without saying a word.

The next time was in the morning as you were heading out the door. It just slipped from your mouth. Yoongi smiled and said thank you but that was it.

The third time you said it was on a date night. You were walking along the river holding hands after having a romantic dinner. The moment just felt right. Yoongi however pretended he didn’t hear you and instead pointed at some ducks that were chasing each other around. His cheeks turned a faint shade of pink so you knew he heard you and chose to ignore it.

You didn’t say it any more after that night. And ever since it had gnawed at you little by little.

Maybe he didn’t really want to be with you after all and he just didn’t have anywhere else to go. Maybe he felt like he owed you since you freed him. Maybe he was using you for sex until someone better came along. All these thoughts and feelings started wearing you down. The two of you started arguing more. You tried to distance yourself a little. But no matter what happened you still got out of the shower and had a warm towel every time and you always woke up to a fresh cup of coffee in the morning.

You hadn’t heard from Yoongi all day. Jimin recently got him a job at the campus bookstore. You were glad he could get out of the house a little more and it gave him something to do. You also appreciated him being able to contribute financially.

You decided to stop into the store and say hi.

“Hey Jimin”, you smiled as you walked up to the counter. He looked visibly uncomfortable after seeing you but you chose to ignore it.

“Where’s Yoongi?”, you asked instead.

“Ooohhh he’s around. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He was acting strange. You wanted to question him but really you just wanted to see Yoongi. You could smell his cologne. The comforting familiar cinnamon and vanilla scent was in the air so you knew he was near by. Then you heard a woman’s voice, it was very sultry and confident and also followed by your boyfriends distinct laugh.

Yoongi was standing by some bookshelves talking to a woman. She was gorgeous with thick long black hair down to her hips and eyes so blue they looked inhuman. Yoongi was smiling from ear to ear.

“Who is that?”, you asked to yourself but also intentionally loud enough for Jimin to hear.

Jimin nervously chuckled, “She’s no one. Just a customer.”

“Really? Because it definitely looks like Yoongi knows her pretty well.”

“Yeah well you know Yoongi is a great salesman…Hey Y/N have you read this book? It’s really good. I highly recommend.”

“Jimin, that’s the dictionary... Tell me who she is?”

“Her name is Bellamy. She’s just a person that we’ve known for a while. Not important.”, he said still trying to change the subject, “Look at this cookbook. I bet they have a great chocolate cake recipe but I have a better one. It’s the touch of arsenic. It really gives it that something special.”

“So she’s a witch?”, you questioned.

“Yeah you could say that or she might be like the most powerful witch of all time but who’s keeping track. Like I said she’s not important.”, he coughed afterwards.

“You’re lying to me. Your voice is doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“That thing where it gets all high pitched when you’re lying. I won’t be mad. Tell me who she is exactly and why is Yoongi touching her arm right now.”

Jimin ran a hand through his freshly dyed hair, “She is umm…She might be…She is kind of Yoongi’s ex who… he…was… goingtomarrybutthenshelefthimatthealter.”

“I’m sorry what?”, you chuckled.

“Oh for fucks sake.”, he huffed, “She is Yoongi’s ex fiancé. They were going to get married but then she walked out on him and then he got sent to the Twilight and now they’re both here.”

“She’s beautiful. He looks like he’s really happy to see her.”, you said feeling a bunch of different emotions.

“Well yeah I mean he said she was the only woman he could ever love.”

You turned to glare at Jimin. He knew about all of your confessions going unanswered. His eyes widened at the realization of what he said.

“Oh would you look at the time.”, he sighed looking at his nonexistent watch, “It is time for my break.”

“You’re not even wearing a watch?”, you questioned.

“Don’t have to. It’s a witch thing.”, he winked before quickly scurrying away.

In that time Yoongi noticed you and excitedly walked over.

“Hi babe, when did you get here?”, he asked trying to give you a kiss which you dodged much to his disappointment.

“Who was that?”, you asked pointing at the woman exiting the store.

“She’s just an old friend. Her name is Bellamy.”

“Mmmhm.”, your annoyance was building especially at how nonchalant he was being about the whole thing.

“Actually I was thinking…we should all go out to dinner tonight. Jimin and his wife, you and me, and Bellamy. We could all catch up. She wanted to go over some witch coven things. I told her I’d only go if you came along too.”

No you didn’t want to go to dinner with your boyfriend and his first and apparently only love. In your mind he was already leaving you. Why wouldn’t he? She was a beautiful powerful witch and you were an average nobody. He was going to pack his stuff and run away with her and leave you alone and longing for him. You couldn’t blame him though. If she was the one he loved, the only woman he ever told that he loved then he should be with her.

“Y/N what do you think?”, he questioned pulling you out of your daydream.

You decided you would let him go if he really wanted to but not without a taste of his own medicine first. That’s just how you were.

“Umm yeah that’s fine. I was actually going to have dinner with an old friend tonight though. Do you think it would be okay if I invited them too or I could just pass and the four of you could go instead?”, you questioned.

“Yeah I guess.”, he stated confused and a little hurt that there was someone else you’d rather spend time with.

“Great.”, you deadpanned.

“Okay well I have to get back to work. I’ll see you at home.”, he said. He gave you a kiss which you wanted to ignore but you gave in and allowed his lips to meet yours.

You and Yoongi arrived at the restaurant where Jimin and his wife were already waiting. Much to your annoyance Bellamy was already there too. She greeted you but you could tell it was forced and that only made you more irritated. Of course Yoongi took the seat next to her with you on his other side. He immediately started conversing with her while you sat in silence. Jimin and his wife were across the table trying to keep to themselves as they could sense the tension in the room.

“Y/N, sorry I’m a bit late. Parking was horrible.”, a man said before taking the seat next to you.

“No worries at all, we just got here too.”, you widely smiled.

Kim Seokjin was often deemed the most handsome man on campus. Women and men would throw themselves at him while begging for a chance and he just so happened to owe you after you covered for him when he got caught hooking up with one of your professors.

And what better way to collect your dues than to have him come out to dinner and be your extremely attractive and flirty classmate/friend/former fling.

Jimin, having worked on campus for so long and being no stranger to gossip, knew what you were up to. He shook his head knowing this wasn’t going to end well.

“Yoongi this is Jin and Jin this is Yoongi.”, you introduced them before also getting around to everyone else.

Yoongi eyed him up and down but returned to his conversation with Bellamy. So you turned on your flirting to a whole new level. Your giggles were extra loud. You touched Jins arm and shoulder multiple times. You used your napkin to wipe away at some sauce that had gotten on his cheek.

You did all this and got no reaction from Yoongi. Nothing other than his hand on your knee underneath the table where no one could even see it.

You wanted to cry because he really truly wasn’t in love with you. He didn’t even care that you were practically all over Jin right in front of him.

You had been thinking it for months now but seeing the way he looked at Bellamy, how he hung onto each word she said. You could see the difference in how he felt towards her compared to you.

So you spent the rest of the dinner in silence other than a few words here or there if directly spoken to. When the meals were over and it was time to leave you gave Jin a hug while secretly thanking him for going along with everything even though you didn’t get the outcome you wanted. You also said your goodbyes to Jimin and his wife and Bellamy who seemed hesitant to let Yoongi go.

The drive home was silent. Yoongi’s hand was still on your knee while you were stuck in your thoughts.

You took a long hot shower once back at your place. The recent stress was really taking a toll on your muscles. When you were ready to exit the shower you pulled back the curtain getting startled by Yoongi. He was standing there folding your towel. He handed it to you with a smile, “Sorry I’m a little behind. That smoke alarm thingy kept beeping again. I couldn’t get it to stop so I just used a spell to cast it away.”

Normally you would be annoyed and would take the time to explain to him that he can’t just make things disappear when they annoyed or scared him, R.I.P. to your poor toaster, but your towel was soft and warm from being fresh out of the dryer and the nice gesture made you cry. You were really going to miss him.

“Hey hey what’s wrong? I’ll buy a new smoke alarm. I’m sorry.”, he said wide eyed and shocked by your tears.

You shook your head unable to really put your thoughts into words so instead he wrapped the warm towel around you and lead you into the bedroom. He handed you a large tshirt to change into before pulling you to sit down next to him on the bed.

Once you were calmed down he grabbed your hand and held onto it, “Y/N please talk to me. What’s going with you lately?”

You sniffled, “Do you love me Yoongi?”

You surprised yourself with your boldness.

“What? Why are you asking me that?”

“See! You can’t even answer with a simple yes.”, you scoffed.

Yoongi licked his lips, “Is this about Bellamy?”

“No!…or yes…maybe a little.”, you whispered.

“Y/N talk to me. I can read your mind if I really want to but I’d rather you tell me what’s bothering you.”

“It’s just…wait you can read minds?!”

He nodded, “Yeah I can Miss Always Thinking About How Good My Butt Looks.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up making him laugh.

“Now please talk to me.”, he calmly said.

“We’ve been together for a year and you’ve never said you loved me. I thought I didn’t care but over time it started bothering me. Then I saw the way you looked at her and Jimin said she was the only woman you could ever love and I guess I just got jealous and even more hurt because I was afraid to loose you.”

“So you invited Jin to dinner tonight to make me jealous?”

“Yeah but it didn’t matter. You didn’t even notice. You were probably hoping he’d take me off your hands and make it easier for you to leave.”

He loudly snorted, “I definitely noticed. I spent the entire dinner trying to remember the spell for turning someone into a wart covered toad. It took everything in me not to turn him into dust the second he said you looked sexy in that dress.”

“What? He never said anything like that.”, you questioned but Yoongi just pointed to his head and you knew he must’ve read Jin’s mind.

“Y/N I’m sorry that I made you feel that way. Bellamy, she’s….she’s an important part of my past but that’s it. She’s my past. We needed to talk about some things but none of it affected you do I didn’t bring it up. Plus, she had her chance with me and blew it. Besides…I kind of already like someone else.”, he smiled seeing the way your eyes lit up.

“You like me?”, you asked.

“Nope”, he teased before kissing your hand, “Y/N I love you. I’m sorry I never said it. I was scared that if I said it out loud then it would make it all too real and there’d be a bigger possibility of loosing everything. I tried to show you in other ways but I guess it wasn’t enough.”

You squeezed his hand feeling bad that you had been so focused on hearing him say it that you didn’t notice every little thing he did to show you that he loved you instead.

“I’m not great with words but I promise I’ll try to tell you more often how much I love you.”

You smiled as his lips tickled your neck.

He pushed you back down onto the bed.

“I love you Y/N” *kiss on on the lips*

“I love you Y/N” *kiss on the neck*

“I love you Y/N” *kiss on your chest*

“I love you Y/N and I’m going to make you forget that Kim Seokjin exists because you’re mine and only mine and don’t you ever think about touching another man like that again.” *kisses started moving lower and lower down your body until your hands were tangled in his long hair.

You were busy giggling as he removed your shirt before quickly going back to peppering your body with more kisses in between declarations of I love you’s. You didn’t think you would ever get tired of hearing those three little words fall from his heavenly magical lips.

[bhalspawn]

if im honest i like king alistair w a warden queen! theyre happy ur honor!!!

[theradicalace]

i just think it's so funny that when *i* lash out and start bitching *about* management to my coworkers because of a stressful day at work, i get pulled into the office to discuss my attitude, but when a manager lashes out and bitches *at me* because of a stressful work day, i get a halfassed "oh sorry, but-" and i'm expected to roll over and take it.

[kaydalixza]

Inflicting trauma upon my sweet OCs so I don't have to go through my problems alone-

[mrsbarnesblog]

first choice

masterlist

requests are open

summary: being an incredibly reserved person, it took Rafe a long time to finally feel comfortable enough to let you see him break down

words count: 2.5k

warnings: hurt/comfort, crying, talk about feelings, Ward being a shitty father as always, insecurities

a/n: couldn't help myself but mention Wheezie as well because she deserves so much better💔

The first time you saw Rafe crying was not so long after you started dating. You went to Tanneyhill that day and were nearly knocked off your feet when Ward Cameron stormed out the front door. He was seething with anger and it seemed like he didn’t even register you standing there with wide eyes and a lost face expression. 

You slowly walked into the house, hearing the sound of Ward’s truck driving away, and slowly patted into the light and big kitchen. Your eyes instantly caught sight of your boyfriend, standing with his back facing you and his body hovering over the counter. His hands were firmly gripping onto the edge of the marble, and his head was lowered so you couldn’t take a look at his face behind his hair. When you heard muffled sniffs, your eyebrows knitted in confusion. 

“Rafe?” You almost whispered, talking one step closer to him. Rafe’s body instantly tensed, but he didn’t turn around. His shoulders and back seemed harder than rocks, and you swore his body was shaking from tension. 

You debated for a few seconds, considering what was best to do. Something obviously had happened between Rafe and Ward, and even though they always fought, you never saw Rafe crying. You quickly figured out that he didn’t like to be seen as "weak,” so he rarely showed any emotions, even to you, no matter how hard you tried to create a comfortable environment for him. That’s why you knew that there was no point in trying to make him talk.

When he sniffed again, not moving for an inch or acknowledging your presence, your heart clenched and not waiting anymore, you slowly went closer to him. 

When he felt your arms wrapping around his middle part with your chest firmly pressed against his back, his whole body stiffened at the unusual touch. Rafe had never had someone comforting him, and the whole thing with you constantly trying to go past his walls slightly terrified him. He desperately wanted to just give in, because Rafe knew that you would never hurt him, but something inside his head was still fighting against it.

You held him as close to you as possible, hoping to give him some sense of security. When Rafe’s body finally eased up a little, you turned your head to place kisses on his back while your hands moved up and down his stomach. 

You didn’t know how long you two were standing like this—close to each other and in complete silence. Rafe clearly didn’t want to talk about it and you knew better than to push him. It was a small step for both of you, but you knew that you would do anything to make him feel safe.

The second time it happened, you were in Rafe’s bed, too invested in your book, when he entered the room. Your gaze shifted to him and you instantly noticed that slightly distant look in his blue eyes, as well as his clenched jaw and rapid breathing. 

You were trying not to be very obvious by the way your instant reaction was to jump out of bed and ask what happened. Rafe was not this type of person and he needed gentle handling. So you went back to your book, only lifting your eyes every few seconds while he silently changed his clothes to something comfortable. 

“I want to cuddle.” You suddenly said, placing a bookmark in between the pages and putting your book on the bedside table. Rafe just looked at you and it felt like your eyes were having their own conversation. He knew that you knew that something had happened and were now just trying to make it seem like you were the one who needed affection, and he was thankful for you not trying to get the information out of him.

He nodded, and the next thing you knew, he was on top of you, arms wrapped around your body, face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers started to brush through his hair and he let out a deep sigh of relief.

The room was silent, except for your quiet breathing; that’s why your ears easily caught a soft sniff. Rafe moved his head back and forth, trying to be closer even if it was impossible, and it made you feel something wet touching your skin. You didn't say a word because you knew that it was not the right time yet. Instead, you left one hand in his hair to massage the scalp and moved another one to Rafe’s back, rubbing it up and down. You let your lips brush against his temple and he tightened his hold on your waist in return.

You didn't know what had happened and you hoped that he would tell you when he felt like it, so for now, you were just giving him the safe space that he desperately needed. It clearly worked, because as Rafe’s body became limp on top of yours and his breathing started to slow down, you guessed that he had fallen asleep. 

The next morning, you were standing in the kitchen and making breakfast when you felt two hands sneaking around your waist and turning you around. Before you could say anything, Rafe gave you a breath-taking kiss, which you knew was his way of saying "thank you."

At one of Friday’s evenings, you and Rafe’s family and a few closest friends were having a dinner in the restaurant to celebrate Ward’s important deal at work being finally successfully signed. You honestly didn’t listen to the conversation that everyone was having, looking down at your almost full plate, until Ward and Sarah started a little argument about him doing something that she didn’t like. 

“It also turns out that the most important thing for me is you, Sarah. That’s why I did it.” Your heart skipped a beat when your ears caught the end of the conversation, with your whole body freezing in your chair. He said it so easily, not even hesitating or considering the feelings of his other kids, who sat at that exact table. 

Rafe sat near you and your eyes instantly drifted to him, only t just a blank expression on his face. He looked at his father, then at Sarah, then back at Ward. The disappointment and hurt were written all over his features. It was so obvious for you, probably because you spent so much time trying to figure out him and his emotions, yet his father didn’t care. 

Nobody did, honestly, as everyone at the table just brushed that comment off and continued talking. Only Wheezie looked equally sad, with a frown and with her hands crossed over her chest. 

Rafe’s eyes drifted to his full plate as he became completely distant from the conversation, not even paying attention to your worried gaze. He just felt numb. 

It's not like he didn't know that Sarah was everyone’s priority; he just didn't need to hear another reminder of that. 

He hated the feeling of not being good enough. He tried to impress his father countless times, being loyal and jumping at every opportunity to do the dirty work, just to hear any kind of praise or approval. Yet Sarah has always been the best girl, the best daughter, and the best child. 

A quiet groan escaped his lips in desperation, as he felt that similar tightness in his chest and throat. 

It just fucking hurt. 

Your worried eyes didn’t leave him even for a second, and when you noticed in which state he was in, you moved closer so only he could hear what you were saying. 

“Do you want to leave, Ray?” He just nodded, taking your hand in his and making some lame excuse about needing to leave. 

Sitting in his truck a few minutes later, Rafe didn’t even look at you, staring at something through the window. You saw the way he was occasionally clenching his jaw and blinking rapidly—signs that he was trying not to break down in front of you. 

You bit your lip, thinking to yourself, before finally deciding that you couldn’t just look at your boyfriend being hurt. So, tossing your purse aside, you got up from your seat, moving quickly to straddle Rafe’s lap. He looked at you in shock, but still placed his hands on your waist, rubbing the soft fabric. 

“Hey, look at me. You don’t have to keep it to yourself. Your feelings are normal, baby.” You tried to reassure him, holding his face firmly in your hands. 

He furrowed. “It’s just— It’s just that—“ Rafe paused, looking down and trying to control his breathing. You didn’t know whether it was anger or sadness, but as his chest started rising faster, in the darkness of the car, you saw a tear rolling down his cheek. 

Then another, and another, and another. 

Rafe tried to physically distance himself from you, pulling your hands away from his face and throwing his head back with a frustrated groan as the palms of his hands pressed into his eyes. 

“That’s fucking’ pathetic.” He hissed.

“No, it’s not. Stop trying to hide from me and just talk. You know I’m the last person to ever judge you.” You soothed him by softly caressing the skin of his neck with your thumbs, and then took a hold of his face to make him look at you. “Talk to me. It’s just us and no one else.” 

Rafe’s blue eyes seemed even brighter with tears gleaming in them, even though it was dark outside and the only light that you had was a lamppost near the restaurant. He gave you a long look, probably fighting his own barriers inside of his head because of how hard it was for him to open up. You waited patiently, not looking away or rushing him and it must’ve worked.

“The shit that he says and does… It hurts me. No matter how much I try, how much effort I put into everything, or how often I do what he needs and wants, it’s never enough. I’m never fucking good enough for anyone or anything.” You took Rafe’s hand in yours, interlacing your fingers. He instantly focused on it, mindlessly playing with your ring and rubbing your skin. “And I don’t hate Sarah—fuck, I really don’t, ‘cause it’s not her damn fault, y���know? But it makes me so fucking mad and-and I just don’t know what to do or what’s wrong with me.” 

Angry tears continued to flow down Rafe’s cheeks freely, as he was not capable of trying to hide them and wipe them away quickly anymore. You looked at him softly, with your heart aching for your boyfriend and for the way this situation deeply affected him. 

“He does this to Wheezie too. She’s a child, Y/N, and I know how it messes up with her head.” Rafe sighed, throwing his head back and looking at the ceiling. “Sometimes... sometimes I feel like I fuck up everything in my life. I think that maybe it’s my fault for him to act like that. Maybe I do something wrong, I dunno.”

“I know that I can't give you what Ward was supposed to give you. That type of love, I mean. But you’re important to me, Rafe. I won't put you in second place because you're always my first choice.” You freed your hands, again placing them on his wet cheeks. Big blue eyes stared back at you with vulnerability and despair as hands on each of your thighs tightened, so you tried to let Rafe know how much he meant to you. “You are good enough, and don’t you dare think otherwise.” 

You leaned closer, hovering over Rafe’s body, just inches away from his face, before tenderly pulling him into a kiss. 

“You shouldn’t let Ward ruin your life and your relationships with your sisters, because it won’t benefit you in any way. Ward is the problem, not you, Ray, so no matter how hard you try, he won’t change his mind.” You kiss away his tears, still firmly holding his face in your hands. “I’m here for you. I love you, and I hate seeing you kill yourself over this.”

Rafe suddenly pulled you closer by your waist, hugging you with all the strength that he had. His body trembled against you while you soothingly scratched the back of his neck. 

“I love you too. ‘M sorry f’ being a mess.” 

“Don’t say that. Everything is okay, we are okay. I’m happy that you finally opened up to me a little bit, because I support you, okay?” He nodded and kissed your naked shoulder, trying to catch his breath. 

“Thank you.” 

A few minutes later, Rafe’s breathing calmed down and his hands were just slowly going up and down your back. Your legs were already sore from your position on his lap, but it was peaceful with just you two sitting in a comfortable silence, so you didn’t mind. You looked up at him as the idea came to your head. "What if we take Wheezie away from there and go out to eat or ride around?" 

Rafe placed a kiss on your forehead, thinking about your words. His and Wheezie’s relationships were weird, with Rafe feeling distant from his family and her just being a child who didn't know how to handle the situation. But he always had a soft spot for her and he hated thinking about his sister sitting there and being invisible to everybody. 

“Yeah, we can. She’d like that.” He mumbled, focusing on your lips that curled into a smile. 

“Great!” You pushed away from him, opening the door and casually sliding on the floor. Rafe looked at you curiously, silently grateful that you were absolutely normal about what happened just a few minutes ago in his car. His heart suddenly raced, and he could not resist the urge to grab you by the waist and pull you in for a kiss. 

Rafe connected your lips, then slightly tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Your skin got covered in goosebumps as you smiled against his lips before pulling away. Rafe subconsciously followed your face, trying to get more. 

“Fuck, you’re amazing. So gorgeous. I love you so much, baby.”

“You already told me that… but I love you more!” You giggled, taking his hands away from your body. “Now I’ll go get Wheezie, and you remove my lipstick from your face.” You gave him a teasing smile before finally going back to the restaurant and leaving Rafe with a soft smirk on his lips. 

He thought that maybe opening up for you was working much better in his favor than he expected. 

[reidsworld]

Disobeyed Orders

Summary: Being married to your boss has its complications, especially when you have a habit of ignoring orders. Based on this request.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff, Angst

Content Warnings: Mild violence, injury, arguing

Word Count: 1.1k

Mars speaks… Thank you so much for the request, I’m sorry that it took so long but I finally found some time to write, I hope I did your request justice!!

Masterlist

The mission had been intense from the start. You knew Aaron — Hotch, here in the field — had ordered you to stay back and cover the rear, but you saw an opening, a chance to catch the unsub off guard. You’d hesitated for a split second, hearing his voice in your earpiece, a mix of command and concern, but the adrenaline took over. You went for it.

Moments later, everything was a blur. The unsub had turned, a knife flashing in his hand, and you’d barely managed to dodge the attack. By the time the team swarmed in, you were grappling on the ground, the unsub subdued but not without a few bruises in the process.

As soon as the cuffs were on, you felt Hotch’s hand on your arm, his grip firm. He pulled you aside, his face unreadable, but his eyes were burning with a quiet fury. “What the hell were you thinking?” he growled under his breath, keeping his voice low so the others wouldn’t hear.

“I saw an opportunity,” you argued, your chest heaving from exertion. “I took it.”

“That’s not your call to make,” he snapped, his hand tightening on your arm. “I gave you an order, and you directly disobeyed it.”

You felt a surge of frustration, tugging your arm free. “I’m not a child, Aaron. I made a decision based on the situation.”

“An incredibly reckless decision,” he countered, his jaw set tight. “You could have been seriously hurt. Or worse.”

You crossed your arms, bristling at the way he was speaking to you like you were just another agent. “I knew what I was doing. I had it under control.”

“Under control?” He almost laughed, but there was no humour in it. “You were pinned down by an armed suspect. That’s not under control, Y/N.”

Your heart pounded, anger simmering beneath the surface. “I’ve been doing this job long enough to know what risks I can handle, Hotch. You don’t get to—”

He cut you off, his voice lowering but still fierce. “Don’t you Hotch me. Not when you just put yourself in danger like that. Not when you’re my—” He stopped himself, glancing around at the team.

You knew what he wanted to say. Not when you’re my wife. But he couldn’t say that here, not in front of everyone. The silence between you was thick with tension, his jaw clenched, and you could see the storm brewing in his eyes.

“Fine,” you muttered, feeling the sting of his words. “Let’s talk about this later.”

He nodded curtly, his expression hard. “Yes. We will.”

Back at the BAU, the air was thick with unspoken tension as you both debriefed with the team. You could feel Hotch’s eyes on you, a steady, burning gaze that only made your irritation grow. You knew the others sensed it too, the way they exchanged glances but said nothing. They all knew you were married to your boss, and while most of the time it didn’t interfere, today was different.

As soon as the debrief was over, Hotch gestured for you to follow him to his office. You walked in, arms crossed, ready for another round. He shut the door behind you, locking it before turning to face you.

“We need to talk,” he began, his voice still low but more controlled now.

“Talk?” you scoffed. “Or are you just going to keep reprimanding me like I’m one of your agents and not your wife?”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, you are one of my agents. And on the field, I am your superior. You need to follow my orders.”

“I understand that,” you shot back, your frustration boiling over. “But you can’t expect me to stand by when I see an opportunity to take down a threat.”

Hotch’s expression softened, just a bit. “It’s not about the threat, Y/N. It’s about you. Do you know what it does to me, to see you put yourself in harm’s way like that? To think I could lose you because you wouldn’t listen?”

You blinked, the raw emotion in his voice catching you off guard. “Aaron…”

He stepped closer, his hands reaching out to grip your shoulders, his thumb brushing against your collarbone. “You’re not just another agent to me,” he murmured, his voice strained. “You’re my wife. My everything. And I need you to understand that when I give an order, it’s not just to keep the team safe — it’s to keep you safe.”

You felt a pang of guilt at the fear in his eyes, the way his hands tightened on you like he was afraid to let go. “I know,” you whispered. “But I can’t just stand back and do nothing, Aaron. It’s not who I am.”

He sighed, his forehead resting against yours. “I don’t want you to change who you are. I just… I need you to trust me. To trust that I’ll always have your back, that I’ll always protect you.

You swallowed hard, the intensity of his gaze making your heart ache. “I do trust you,” you replied softly. “But you have to understand that I’m not going to just sit by and let you carry all the weight. I’m your partner — in life and on the field.”

His eyes softened, his thumb tracing circles on your shoulder. “I know,” he murmured. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way. Just… promise me you’ll be more careful. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”

You nodded, feeling the tension slowly dissolve between you. “I promise,” you whispered.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss that melted the last of your resistance. You sighed against him, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms.

When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You drive me crazy, you know that?” he muttered, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You chuckled softly, your fingers tangling in his tie. “It’s part of my charm.”

He laughed, a deep, genuine sound that made your heart flutter. “I suppose it is.”

He kissed you again, deeper this time, and you felt all the frustration and fear of the day melt away, leaving only the warmth of his love and the steady reassurance of his presence.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, his voice rough with emotion.

“I love you too,” you replied, your hand cupping his cheek. “And I promise… I’ll try to follow orders. Sometimes.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “I’ll take that.”

And in that moment, you knew that no matter how many arguments or tense moments lay ahead, you’d always find your way back to each

Mars speaks… (again) Thank you for reading! Any and all feedback is always appreciated🫶

[pastryfication]

hi!!! can we get an ollie x reader, frustrated after he misses out on q3 in baku, and fully melts into his gfs arms when he’s out of the car. until someone from the team has to steer him away to the media pen

i guess that's the best i can do

pairing: ollie bearman x reader

note: i absolutely adore writing hurt/comfort so thank u for this request <33 i know it’s been over a month since u requested, and i’m so sorry for that, but i hope u still like it

the streets of baku were unforgiving that day, the tight corners and narrow straights biting harder than ollie had expected as he got into the car. he knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but missing out on q3—by just a fraction—hurt more than he wanted to admit.

he climbs out of the car quickly, his helmet still on, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. the moment he’s out of the cockpit, the frustration floods him. all those laps, the careful management, and it still wasn’t enough. he slams the steering wheel back in place a little harder than necessary, trying to keep the emotions from boiling over in front of the cameras. the pit crew is busy around him, preparing for the post-qualifying debrief, but all he can think about is how close he came.

he catches sight of you standing just outside of the garage, your face soft with understanding. it’s as if you know exactly how he’s feeling before he even reaches you. you offer a small smile, but ollie’s expression doesn’t budge. he pulls off his helmet and then his baclava, running a hand through his sweaty hair, before walking over to you, his shoulders heavy with disappointment.

as soon as he’s close enough, he drops his helmet onto the ground beside you and crashes into your arms without a word. his hands grip tightly onto your waist, his forehead resting heavily against your shoulder, as if all the tension and frustration can somehow seep out through the contact. for a long moment, he just stands there, holding on, and you can feel the shuddering breath he lets out.

you wrap your arms around him, holding him close, your hand gently stroking the back of his neck, offering silent comfort. his body, taut with frustration and anger just moments ago, begins to sag against yours, melting into your embrace. he’s letting it all go, just for a moment, here with you, where it’s safe to be vulnerable—where he can show his true emotions.

“you were absolutely brilliant out there,” you whisper softly into his ear, trying to sooth the storm brewing inside him. “so close, ollie. you fought so hard.”

he doesn’t say anything at first, his face still buried in the crook of your neck, his arms clinging to you as if he's afraid you'll disappear. you can feel the rise and fall of his chest, deep breaths as he tries to calm down, to find the words he wants to say. his grip on you tightens even further for a second, as if he needs to hold on to something stable, something real, before he can speak.

“i should’ve made it,” he mumbles, his voice thick with frustration. “i had the pace. i know i did.”

you keep stroking his hair, your other hand rubbing gentle circles on his back. “you’ll get them next time. this isn’t the end.”

he pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes glassy with emotion. “i just—” his voice cracks, and he shakes his head, trying to get the words out. “i wanted it so bad. i was right there.”

“i know,” you say softly, cupping his face in your hands. “i know, love. but this doesn’t change how incredible you are.”

for a moment, he just looks at you, the frustration still simmering beneath the surface but dulled by the warmth of your presence. you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and he sighs again, his shoulders finally slumping in defeat—though not the kind of defeat that lingers, but the kind that comes with acceptance, with knowing he did all he could.

but before he can fully disappear into the comfort of your embrace, someone from the team approaches, clearing their throat. you both turn to see one of the pr managers, looking slightly awkward but aware of the time crunch. “ollie,” they say softly, not wanting to intrude too much. “we’ve got to get you to the media pen. they’re waiting.”

ollie groans quietly against your shoulder, his grip on you loosening as reality pulls him back. “right,” he mutters, clearly not thrilled about it.

he pulls back reluctantly, his hands still lingering on your waist for a second longer before he lets go completely. “i’ll be back soon,” he says, the words more for himself than for you, like a promise he’s making to get through this next part.

you offer him an encouraging smile, giving his hand a squeeze. “you’ve got this.”

he nods, though you can see he’s still carrying some of that disappointment with him. just before he walks away, he pauses, turning back to you. “thank you,” he whispers, his voice quiet but sincere. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

“you don’t have to,” you reply, smiling softly as you reach up to caress his cheek adoringly. “i’ll always be here.”

with that, he smiles softly and leans down to give you a hurried kiss before finally allowing the team to steer him away, glancing back at you one last time before disappearing into the paddock. you watch him go, knowing that once he’s done with the media, you’ll be there waiting, ready to pull him back into your arms when he needs it most.

[mostly-imagines]

The Arkham Knight

jason todd x fem!reader

aka the arkham knight goes after the crevice in the red hoods armor

warnings: typical canon violence, threats to the reader including death & implied sa, nonconsensual touching for reader (not nsfw), reader gets cut with a knife, character death (not reader or jason), angst w comfort

**for the sake of this, we're going to pretend that the arkham knight isn't jason -- or that he's from an alternate universe or something if you prefer. in any case, red hood & the arkham knight co-exist in this fic

You wake up to a sensation that takes you a moment to place. Your eyes are still closed and the word conscious is barely even applicable to you, but still, you feel it.    

There’s a hand wrapped around your neck.

Given that it's about one in the morning at this point and it’s not uncommon for your boyfriend to get very touchy after coming home from patrol, you didn’t dwell much on it.

His thumb strokes across your skin delicately, applying no real force with his grip.

You don’t feel his arm, though. Usually, you’d expect to feel the weight of at least his arm on you, as he laid next to you, hand resting on your neck. But you just feel his hand. No other weight on the bed at all, actually. Like he’s standing next to it.

That is something to dwell on, you think. You open your eyes and almost scream, before the hand on your neck swiftly clamps down over your mouth.

“Shhh.” he hushes. 

You probably wouldn’t be too much less scared if it were some random burglar, but it’s not. You look at the helmet hovering above you and you recognize it instantly. That’s the Arkham Knight. Jason hadn’t said much about him but you know he’s been having altercations with him recently from the news.

Standard enough.

What’s not so standard is one of Red Hood’s enemies in your apartment, in your bedroom. That means he knows who Jason is. Not good. Not good at all.

The Knight uses his free hand to yank you up by your arm into a sitting position. Your thoughts are still going a mile a minute trying to process what the hell is happening when he hauls you over his shoulder.

You start to fight back, thrashing in his hold and hitting his back with as much force as you can muster, but you’re not surprised it doesn’t do much. This guy’s as big as Jason and it doesn’t take a vigilante to figure out that this is a fight you can’t win.

He jostles you on his shoulder a little bit, murmuring, “Easy, sweetheart. We’re just going on a little trip.”

You continue struggling against him and when you reach the apartment building hallway you start shouting, though you’re quickly shut up by him.

He plops you down on your feet, hands gripping your shoulders tightly. “Don’t make me hurt you.” He warns with venom. 

If you’re going to get away it could only be now. But you saw the gun holstered to his thigh and based on the little that you know about him, he will shoot anyone that tries to help you without hesitation. 

So you let him shove you outside and into the backseat of a black car without a fight, only starting to feel the consequences with the way he holds you incredibly close with a tight grip throughout the ride.

You end up at a warehouse at the edge of the city, filled with crates and storage containers that you’re assuming are stocked with weapons. Soldiers line the perimeters and block the exits, though you didn’t have much of a mind to try and run from the Arkham Knight anyways. The metallic glint off his gun from the lights warn you every time he moves.

He has you sat on a chair as he leans against a crate in front of you, not bothering to have tied your hands. He doesn’t seem to be in any rush to do anything with you, if anything, the way he idly lazes implies that he’s waiting for something. Waiting for Jason, you’d guess. A long fifteen or so minutes goes by—you know so because you counted the seconds in your head as an attempt to keep your mind away from the killer in front of you.

You’re dressed only in a loose t-shirt and sleep shorts, the Gotham night air bitter on your skin. It only gives you all the more reason to curl up into yourself, doing your best to cover your body. 

He tilts your face to the side with the barrel of his gun. “You are a pretty thing, aren’t you? I can see why he keeps you.”

You snap your head away, eyes down and looking to the concrete floor. The sleeve of your shirt slips from your shoulder and you quickly yank it back up, much to the amusement of the Knight.

His shoulders shake lightly as he relaxes the gun to his side, “So, what? S’he your boyfriend or r’you just fucking each other?”

You try to keep your face neutral, keeping your eyes glued on the ground. “I just help patch him up sometimes. I don’t even know who he is.”

He takes a deep breath. “I’m going to ignore the fact that you just lied to me, but only because I already know the answer.” He pulls you in close and kisses the side of your head with his helmet before whispering in your ear, “Don’t lie to me again.”

You try not to let your shoulders shake as bad as they want to, though you’re sure he knows exactly how frightened you are anyways.

You huff quietly, attempting to show more courage than you have. “So what, all this for ransom? Just to piss him off?”

He tilts his head at you wryly, “No, I’m going to put a bullet in his head.”

Your mouth snaps shut.

“Ah. Yeah, if you were just fucking you wouldn’t have that look on your face right now.” He tuts, patting your cheek.

A series of gunshots outside the warehouse has you jumping in your seat.

The Knight claps his hands together, “Oh, here we go!”

He stands abruptly and pulls you up with him roughly, wrapping his arms around you to pin you against his chest, resting the chin of his helmet on your shoulder. The few men scattered around the room drop one by one, quickly, though the Arkham Knight pays them no regard.

“Back away from her.” The modulated voice of his helmet calls out sharply. You can’t quite tell where he is, but he sounds up high—maybe in the rafters or set up at one of the windows.

“Easy, Hood. Pays to be mindful of the stakes.” He pushes your chin up with the barrel of the gun.

You can’t see him but you have a feeling he’s got his gun trained on you, waiting for the Knight to give him a decent shot.

You can tell how incensed he is, even from the distance as he shouts, “Put the gun down. Now.”

The Knight tsks, “Don’t make me do something I’ll kind of regret. She’s got too pretty of a face to die so soon.” He squeezes your cheeks as you try to pull your head away from his hands, with no avail. “And so messy.”

His free hand travels down your neck and squeezes. You try not to look scared, both to spite the Knight and for the sake of Jason’s concentration.

He backs you up into a mess of crates, gun persistently pointed to your head, and he yanks you down with him to duck behind them. You’re both mostly obscured from view, though you think the tops of your heads might still be visible from the angle Jason’s at.

“I’m not asking twice.”

The Knight ignores his threat, continuing on, “No, no, don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of her for you, Hood. She won’t miss a thing.” His glove drifts down your side, squeezing your waist.

Jason fires again, hitting startlingly close to the Knight’s head.

You take the momentary distraction to knee him in the groin which only makes him tighten his grip on you. “Oh, you…” he grunts. “You are a fighter, aren’t you?”

You sneer at him, “Fuck—” he yanks your hair roughly, pulling you into a better angle for him to hold onto you. “You.”

He squeezes your arm very hard, calling out, “On second thought, Jace, I’m thinking about cutting her open and letting her bleed out right here.”

He puts his gun in the holster before one of his hands pulls the bottom of your shirt up, the other flipping out a blade that he presses flat against your stomach. The knife is cold against your skin and the sensation is what allows you to finally admit to yourself that you’re scared.

This is somehow a hell of a lot more terrifying than the gun and you can’t swallow the fact that you’re one unlucky move away from being gutted in an abandoned warehouse at the edge of Gotham. Jason’s quiet and you can’t be sure that he’s not injured or stuck dealing with more soldiers. You visibly shake at the thought of really being on your own now.

The Knight clicks his tongue, tilting his head down at you as he watches you tremble. “Aw, I’m sorry. Am I scaring you?” He knicks your skin, purring, “It’s not personal, sweetheart.” He lets the blade drag a bit, widening the size of the cut. “Well, not for you.”

You grimace at the feeling of being sliced open, trying your hardest not to give him any reaction. Your body involuntarily slides down to the ground until you’re on your back with him crouched above you. 

He pulls the knife back and you both take in the sight of your blood lining the side of it. Your eyes well with tears as he points the end of the knife down at your stomach, readying to pierce your skin in a far less superficial way.

A gunshot fires far closer than you were prepared for, making your entire body jump. The fear becomes visceral then, because your automatic reaction to the noise was to assume that you had just been shot by the Arkham Knight. But in actuality, the Knight himself gets knocked to the floor, the shot having hit the side of his helmet. A flash of red out of the corner of your eye has you flinching, though it darts right past you and onto the Knight.

Hood slams him fully onto the ground by the shoulders, trying to remove his helmet so he can fire a shot that's actually effective. The Knight fights against him, pushing him off of him and reaching to draw his own gun.

You’re dragging yourself backwards, crawling away to safety. You keep going until you can’t see them anymore; you’re too scared to see it play out, too scared to help, too scared to think.

The clamor of grunts and punches landing drowns your senses as you try to fold in on yourself into the smallest ball possible on pure instinct.

A shot fires, though the sounds of struggling persist. Another shot, followed by a curse that you can’t make out who it came from. You can see debris littering the air around one of the crates where one of the shots must have hit. A few seconds go by before a third shot echoes out and the scuffle slows to a halt.

It’s quiet for the longest few moments of your life and in the panic, you begin to lose all sense of what you’re waiting for. You forget to look up when you hear someone approaching you rapidly, only finding cessation to your concern when a pair of hands grabs your face, pulling your head up so he can see you.

You’re only barely able to process that it’s your boyfriend knelt in front of you, blood splattered on his armor. You know this is good, you’re grateful to see him, but you can’t feel anything but panic.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, taking in your emotional state. “Are you hurt?” His helmet scans over you frantically, hands trying their best to remain gentle on your face.

You try, but you can’t push the words out of your mouth.

Honestly, you just want to see him, see his face so you can start to feel safe again. But the sight of another inanimate helmet is doing nothing to calm you, in spite of you wholeheartedly trusting the person under it with your life.

His gaze finds the small pool of blood seeping through your shirt. He rushes to lift your shirt up, fussing over the laceration. It’s about two inches wide, but it’s shallow enough that it won’t need stitches. Once he determines that you don’t need immediate medical attention, he drops your shirt back down, leveling his face to yours.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers desperately, “Baby. Talk to me,” he brushes hair out of your face gently and the contact makes you jump on instinct, your adrenaline nowhere near lowering. If you were in any real state of mind right now you’d feel awful for flinching like that when he touched you, you know exactly how sensitive that is for him. But right now, you didn’t even completely register that it was him that touched you.

Your eyes stay fixed on the concrete and the only response you can manage is a strangled hum and a shake of your head, no I can’t talk right now not right now not now

“Okay. Okay,” he lifts you up off the ground from your knees and holds you close, like he’s trying to prevent you from disappearing again. You’re staring blankly at his glove holding up your thigh, trying to center your focus on that instead of all the bodies in your peripheral or the memory of the blade pressed against your abdomen.

You don’t notice it, but he’s looking down at you constantly, scanning your face for anything, any signs of change.

The entire ride back to your apartment you’ve got a death grip around his torso and he’s thankful for it because he can’t have his hands on you while he’s driving the bike.

He gently helps you inside, handling you like your bones are made of float glass. His helmet finally comes off once you’re back home, but you’re a bit too out of it to even notice.

The wave of lucid emotions don’t kick in until he sets you gently on the bed and you realize you’re back in the place where you woke up to his hand around your throat. You can feel the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, the blood slowly starting to dry.

The tears fall before you could even realize that your eyes started watering and Jason could swear on his life that he physically felt his heart break. 

You feel like a little kid the way you cry, chin low and shoulders shaking. You don’t even know what you want, what could possibly help right now.

“Can I touch you?” He asks in a strangled whisper, desperate to try anything he can to make this better for you. He absolutely hates that you have to be in such distress because of something that he brought into your life, something that he should’ve been able to prevent. He’d rather relive all his worst days again and again than see you so pained ever again.

You give no response so he takes the chance and does it anyway because he can’t stand to see you hurting so badly and while he just sits here watching. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap and into his chest. Thankfully, you respond in kind and squeeze your arms around him tightly, sobbing harder.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He presses his mouth against your head, trying to keep it together as you shake in his hold.

He won’t tell you this, especially not right now, but he was absolutely terrified. He couldn’t have gotten home more than ten minutes after you’d left, being met with little things ever so slightly out of place. The bedroom door ajar, when you usually keep it closed. The lamp in the living room that you always leave on for him was off. The bolt on the door was broken, the turn locks unlocked.

He’s panicked plenty of times before in false alarms, thinking you were gone or dead when in reality you’d just been tired and skipped a few steps in your nightly routine. So he kept his thoughts at bay as he crept into the bedroom, opening the door to find the bed empty, sheets oddly messy. He booked it down the hall and checked the bathroom, checked the spare room. Nothing. He’d whipped his phone out immediately and could literally feel his stomach drop when he heard your phone ringing in the bedroom.

It didn’t take him long to piece together what had happened, who had taken you. He’d been having increasing altercations with the Arkham Knight lately and they were beginning to get very annoyed with each other. Occasional accidental run-ins had given way to full on ambushes and planned assaults, leading both of the men to lose their patience quickly.

A couple nights earlier, mid-shootout, The Knight had shouted out something that should’ve raised flags for Jason. “I’d hate to let this get personal,” he’d said.

But he was in the heat of the fight and barely even allowed himself to register the words, let alone sift through their implication. That’s no excuse though, is it? He’s supposed to keep you safe, that’s his job—that’s his only job. He should’ve seen the tail that was following him, he should’ve installed better security measures at your apartment, he should’ve checked on you, should’ve stayed with you, should’ve left you alone all together. But he was selfish and careless and now you’re bleeding and traumatized from being pulled from your bed in the middle of the night, having a gun pushed in your face, and being cut by a psychopath.

You sit on his lap, completely zeroed in on the feeling of his touch and how drastically different it resonates than the Knight’s burning hold on you. Jason’s hands on you don’t have that scorching fire sensation, but warm and comforting like an emergency blanket. You can feel his Red Hood armor pressing into you uncomfortably, but you want more of it. You need more. You can’t possibly get enough of it right now. 

“Please hold me tighter,” you pipe up for the first time in several minutes, your words are hushed and exerted. It makes you sound like you’re hiding, trying not to be caught.

He nearly squeezes the breath out of your lungs and it’s still not tight enough. The tears run out soon after and you sit lax against him. You focus on the feeling of his breath against you, his exhale wavering your hair a little. His breath is steadier than yours and you try to match up with him, but you’ve found that even in normal times, his breathing is always a little slower than yours.   

There’s a nearly imperceptible creak of a floorboard in your living room that has you jolting in Jason’s lap. His head snaps up, one of his hands immediately flying to your hair. His hold prevents you from turning your head, though you're not sure you even want to. You prepare yourself for the sound of gunshots, modulated voices, punches landing.  

You’re confused when Jason remains stationary on the bed and he relaxes slightly. A few long seconds go by before he calls out lowly, “Go.” 

His posture loosens again a moment later and though you don’t hear the intruder retreat, you’ll later realize that was your biggest clue as to who it was. But for right now, you bury your face as deep into his neck as you can, letting him run his finger through your hair in an attempt to cancel out the brief adrenaline jump you just got.

His next words come at a volume so low you nearly miss them all together. “Did he touch you?” He sounds like he’s biting back nausea at the thought.

“No. Not like that.” you mumble back, just as quiet. Your voice is more detached than his, and while the words themselves are a relief, your tone makes him hurt inside.

His head drops against your shoulder for a second before he glances up at the door again, letting out a tense exhale. “I…fuck. Can I…I need to go in the living room for a second. Just a second.”  

The thought of being separated from him right now makes you literally want to throw up, but tonight has been nothing if not another reassurance that you trust him more than anything.

He pulls back from you and looks you in the eye, hand stroking along the side of your head as he checks for certainty. You do your best to let him find it and when he does he kisses your forehead softly. You slowly climb off of him and he makes sure to wrap you up nicely in the comforter before he goes.

He stands intentionally in the doorway, closing the door enough so that there’s only just enough room for him to stand.

“What happened?” you hear the gruff voice of the Batman, followed by Jason shushing him. You can’t quite make out what he mutters back, though you can tell the sentence is short. 

You think you can hear Batman ask if you’re hurt and you see Jason hesitate and then shake his head. You let yourself fall into a reclined position on the bed, consumed by your cocoon of blankets. Jason was really onto something with this.  

Batman sighs, “Alright. We’ll discuss this more tomorrow.”

“Not tomorrow.” Jason says shortly. His meaning is clear, he’s not leaving you again any time soon. Especially not to fill Batman in on something that’s done and over with. Something that he’s hoping to never have to talk about again. A few beats pass before Jason closes the door with a soft click and returns to you quickly.

He takes your hands in his as he sits, rubbing reassuring circles with his thumbs. 

“I need to get you bandaged up.” He whispers reluctantly, knowing that’s not what you want to hear right now. You drop your head on his shoulder wordlessly and he takes in the sight of your blood on your hands. Now it’s his turn to feel sick. “We can—” he pauses, “Do you want to shower first?”

Oh. That would be good, yeah. You nod slowly and languidly unwrap yourself from your blankets.

He wants to ask but he refrains, so you just take his hand and guide him into the bathroom with you. He’s very thankful you do.

He gets the shower started for you, letting it get warm how he knows you like. You watch the steam begin to fog up the mirror as he pulls his shirt off next to you.

He gets down to his boxers when he turns to you and sees that you’ve made no progress in removing any of your clothes. You just stand still, watching the water run.

“Sweetheart?” He calls out gently. “You need help?” He tries to hide the concern in his voice, though not to much avail.

You blink vacantly, “No, I just…” you waver for a moment before climbing into the shower, clothes on.

He stutters between stopping you and letting you go, ultimately deciding on the latter. He follows in after you, sitting side by side with you under the stream of hot water. He has to fold in on himself to fit like this but he doesn’t think twice about being here with you, however you need him. 

Your clothes darken quickly and adheres to your skin, and you find it difficult to tear your eyes away from that patch of your shirt that remains ever so slightly darker than the rest of the wetted fabric.

Jason picks your hand up from its resting place on your stomach and envelopes it in his. You close your eyes and let the water run over your face, sprinkling off your eyelashes.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, sounding nearly in pain.

Your head falls to the side, coming to a rest on his shoulder. The water pounds against your ear, stray drops ricocheting against your cheek. You squeeze his hand and he returns the action, understanding the temporary sentiment. He kisses your head and keeps his lips there, eyes closed too. 

You’ll stay like that in the shower until the heat runs out. He’ll help you out of your soaked clothes and leave them in the tub for now before lifting you up and wrapping you in a towel. He’ll set you down on the bed and apply a bandage to your cut as delicately as he possibly can. Neither of you bother to get dressed again, simply enveloping yourselves in the covers and lying together like that until you’re ready to move.

He didn’t go out on patrol again for nearly two months.

💙 REBLOGGING = SUPPORTING 💙

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (31/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The promised back massage - and friends help each other.

Warnings: 18+ (thigh riding, inexperienced!reader)

Word Count: 3.6k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: I'm so proud. Charlie won his home race! I'm still crying. feedback is appreciated!

"So?" asks Charles as you move further and further away from the beautiful house. "What do you think of them?"

You smile at him. "You have a really great family, Charles. Maybe a little wild, but it's obvious how much you love each other."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "I love them more than anything. Ever since my father died, we've taken every opportunity to spend time together." He swallows briefly. "We appreciate each other. And that's worth a lot."

You carefully reach for his hand, which is resting on the shift stick, and turn it so that you can interlace your fingers with his. You place it on your lap and stroke the back of his hand in gentle circles with your thumb. "Thank you for taking me here. It means a lot to me."

"Actually, I didn't have any other choice. I think my mother would have kicked down our front door if I kept you from her." Charles has to grin. "I definitely wouldn't have survived that."

"So that's how it is," you grin and let go of his hand with mock outrage. "So you only took me with you out of pure self-protection."

Before you can cross your arms in front of your chest, he grabs your hand again and brings it up to his mouth so that he can tentatively blow a kiss on your knuckles. "Do you believe me when I tell you that it's incredibly important to me that you know my family? And that you like them?"

You feel the heat rush to your face as he brushes his lips over the thin skin of your fingers. You take a quick breath and stare at him before nervously - and slightly turned on - looking away from him. "Maybe." You try to sound as nonchalant as possible and hope that Charles doesn't notice the tremble in your voice. "I'm definitely glad Arthur didn't do anything to you. I bet he was a kid back then who just bit other children."

Charles has to laugh at that. Loudly and fervently, and you don't know if he does it on purpose, but he presses your hand firmly against his muscular chest and holds it there. You feel the vibration under your fingertips and air rushing through his lungs, and his laughter is so infectious that you can't help but join in.

When he finally lets go of your hand, he wipes the tears from his face. He takes another deep breath before letting out one last laugh and then places his hand on your thigh like it's the most normal thing in the world. The warmth of his skin almost burns through the fabric of your clothes. You try not to let it show. "Believe me, mon amour. I should even have a scar from his teeth somewhere."

When you stop at a traffic light, Charles leans forward a little and pushes his back through. When you hear a few of his vertebrae crack, you grimace. "Does your back hurt?"

"A little." He leans back into the seat again, but stretches his neck to the side. "Not being able to lean back for hours is more uncomfortable than you think." When he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and smirks, you lightly punch his shoulder. 

"You idiot." Charles laughs in response. "You're just after a back massage!"

"You take what you can get." His hand squeezes your thigh. 

You roll your eyes. "You could have just asked for a massage, you know? I imagine the stool isn't the most comfortable piece of furniture."

Charles shrugs. "I didn't want it to be weird in any way."

Your gaze focuses on his slender fingers on your leg. "Do you mean because of this morning?" you ask meekly. 

"Actually -" Charles clears his throat. " Because of Arthur, actually. He was hinting at something and - I don't know." He steers the car onto the street where your apartment is. When he takes his hand off your thigh to change gear, you miss his touch. Without another word, he parks the Renault in the building's underground garage and without looking at you, you take the elevator to your apartment. 

The silence between you is a little awkward. The fact that you brought up the incident from this morning has somehow killed the mood and you'd like to slap yourself for it. You could have left it at that - after all, you had spoken to each other and agreed that everything was fine between you - but you had stupidly cast it in a different light.

You get ready for bed in separate rooms in silence. While Charles brushes his teeth in the bathroom, you change in the bedroom and slip into comfortable shorts and a shirt that you're not sure if it belongs to you or Charles. When you run into each other in the hallway, you don't look at each other, but pass each other with lowered eyes. 

In the bathroom, you splash cold water on your face and are about to bang your forehead against the porcelain of the sink. Until just now, the day had been wonderful. You met his wonderful family, had a fun evening and although you had a little slip-up this morning, Charles and you got on really well. Your friendship hasn't been tarnished and apparently you've been so good to each other that the Leclerc family think you're a couple. 

That's another thing you need to sort out. Between the two of you and definitely with his family. Even though you've only got to know the Leclercs properly since today, you've already grown fond of them and it doesn't feel right to fib to everyone. Above all, it doesn't feel right to Pascale, who has invited you into her home and insists that you spend Christmas with them. Pascale, who has such a big heart and didn't hesitate for a moment to take you into the family. 

It's not fair to her - even if a small part of you wants to keep things the way they are. Even if it doesn't reflect reality, the word girlfriend doesn't ring false in your ears. The thought of it makes you feel warm and somehow the blood tingles in your veins. 

You blame it on the long day you've had and the fact that you're too emotionally exhausted to put one and one together. How crazy would it be if you were actually Charles' girlfriend?

You immediately push the thought aside when you return to the bedroom and see Charles lying on the bed. He continues to scroll through his phone without looking at you and doesn't even glance at you as you slip under the covers on your side of the bed. 

You want to press your face into the pillow and scream, but you can't do that because it definitely wouldn't ease the tension in the air. You could also cry quietly to yourself, but Charles would notice even that. But you could also -

"Am I still getting the back massage?" Confused, you look over at your friend, who puts his cell phone aside and looks at you. He shrugs and then runs his hand through his hair. "You said I should just ask. And I thought I'd try my luck." His hand wanders over the comforter and when he finds yours, he intertwines your fingers. 

"Charles -" you begin, but you don't know how to finish the sentence. You're relieved that he doesn't take offense at your comment and wants to ease the situation by pretending nothing happened. You would love to kiss him for it. The thought sends a warm shiver down your spine.

"Sorry," Charles apologizes as he mistakes your awkwardness for hesitation. "It was a stupid idea. I just thought -"

"It's okay," you interrupt him and squeeze his hand, whereupon he squeezes back twice. "Apparently the stool was super uncomfortable. And friends help each other, don't they?" 

The Monegasque returns your gentle smile. "Friends help each other," he repeats, his gaze flickering briefly from your eyes to your lips and back again. " 'Um - should I take my shirt off? I think that would be smarter, don't you?"

Before you can say anything back, his hand disengages from yours and in one elegant movement he pulls the garment over his head and throws it to the other end of the bed. You watch the muscles in his back flex as he slides down the bed a little and lies on his stomach without hesitation, as if he can't wait another second. 

You have to strain to tear your gaze away from him. "I think I still have some body lotion somewhere." You quickly run back to the bathroom, where you spot the cream on the shelf next to the door, and sprint back to Charles, who has put his head in his hands and is smiling at you. You stand uncertainly in front of the bed, swaying from one foot to the other. "Where - I mean - how -?"

"Just sit on my legs," he says gently and pulls the blanket off him so that you can sit on top of him. "I think that's easier than from the side. Isn't it?"

"I - I don't know," you reply quietly and stop in your tracks. Of course, it would make more sense to sit astride his legs, but then you would also be sitting on him. And you definitely don't want things to get weird between you again. 

"Just sit down, please. I won't bite." Charles reaches out and grabs your hand to pull you towards him. He doesn't let go until you swing your leg over his and get comfortable on the back of his thigh. "See? It's not so bad, is it?"

You're glad he can't see how hard you're swallowing. The fine hairs tickle the soft skin on the inside of your thighs and heat shoots into your face as you slide your butt around to find the best possible position. When you finally find it, you remove the cap from the body lotion. "Careful, it might be a bit cold."

"It's okay, it can't be that bad - oh fuck!" Charles exclaims as you pour the contents of the bottle onto his back. Goosebumps immediately spread across his back and arms and you have to stifle your laughter. "Don't you dare laugh at me. My goodness, you could have warmed up the cream in your hand!"

"Sorry," you grin and close the bottle again before placing it on the bed next to your knee. "I thought it would be easier this way."

"It's definitely meaner," Charles replies, glancing over his shoulder at you. "You owe me a longer massage for that. At least half an hour." 

"No problem," you smile. You hope he doesn't notice your hesitation, because it takes a few seconds before your head commands your hands to rest on his broad back and spread the cream. With your fingers spread apart, you glide over his spine, his shoulder blades to his neck, where you feel the first lump under your fingertips. Slowly, but firmly, you press your thumb over the spot. 

And Charles moans shamelessly. "Fuck, that feels good." He closes his eyes as you continue to work on his neck. "I think you've missed your profession."

"You think so?" you ask softly. Your fingers glide to his hairline, his muscular neck and back over his shoulders. "Maybe I wouldn't be unemployed right now."

"I'd hire you in a heartbeat." As you press the side of his left shoulder blade with your thumbs, he exhales audibly. "Yeah, right there."

Smiling, you look at him before returning to your task. "I think you're too old for that stool. I'll sit on it next time."

"You're only saying that because you're hoping for a massage too." Charles' voice sounds rough and deep, completely relaxed. With his eyes closed, he enjoys your touch and misses you biting your lower lip. 

Your mouth goes dry at the thought of feeling his hands on your bare skin. You'd be only too happy to repeat this morning's incident if it meant that nothing would change between you. That you would remain friends. 

Nervously, you slide around on his legs. "Maybe."

You don't receive an answer. In comfortable silence, you run your hands over his back, pressing certain points in his muscles that make the Monegasque hum and moan softly. It's nice to know that he can let himself go with you and that you seem to be doing him good. 

Your hands wander down to the hem of his shorts and before you can really think about it, your thumbs slide just underneath so that you can massage the marks the shorts leave on his skin too. Charles takes a gasping breath and for a moment you think you've gone a step too far, but Charles doesn't even open his eyes as he speaks. 

"I miss this."

You tilt your head, even though he's not looking at you. "What do you mean?"

"Being touched," he answers your question quietly.

You pull your fingers out from under the hem and let them glide over his spine. "We touch each other."

Charles lets out a sigh. "I know. But - I don't know." His mouth twists into a thin line. "That's something else."

"Explain it to me." 

"It's been months since I've touched anyone, or vice versa. And I'm not talking about friendly touching. What we do," he explains. You don't know why your heart tightens as if it has heard bad news. 

Your fingers trail over his shoulders and then down his arm. Goosebumps spread under your fingertips. "Okay."

"Not that I don't think it's nice," he tries to get his act together. "I love it when I hold your hand or when we cuddle in bed. That's not even up for debate." When your fingers reach his wrist, he grabs them and squeezes them twice. "I don't know how to describe it." 

"What exactly do you mean by 'touch'?" you try to draw him out. "I mean, apparently there must be a difference between what you mean and what we do."

Charles shrugs and lets go of your hand so you can continue. "I miss having my hair played with. Or having my legs rubbed." Lying down, he runs his hand through his hair once, "I don't know."

You chew the inside of your cheek. "Do you mean - I don't know - like more intimate touching?" When you hear yourself say that, you try to turn it around again. "I mean - I'm not talking about sex. But rather that emotional connection? That you feel close to someone and touching them, like playing with your fingers or rubbing your arms, feels different?"

Charles turns his head in your direction so he can look at you. "I miss being touched more intimately. I really crave it." He turns under you so that he is now lying on his back. He leans on his elbows. You don't know where to put your hands, which is why you hold them strangely in the air. You try to fix your gaze on his face, but it flickers briefly to his abs. Something that doesn't escape Charles' notice. "What about you?"

"What about me?" 

"My relationship went down the drain months ago. It's obvious I'm touch starved." He sits up straight and reaches for your hands, placing them tentatively and hesitantly on his chest. "I can't stop thinking about this morning."

You can feel his heart beating under your palm and there's a sparkle in his beautiful green eyes. "We're friends," you state the obvious. The one you agreed on. 

Charles nods. "And I don't want that to change either. I really don't." He exhales and you feel his warm breath on your face. "But don't you miss it? Being touched? Being touched intimately?"

As he licks his lips, your brain shuts down for a moment. "I've never - I don't - I -" you stumble over your words and heat rushes to your cheeks. You don't know why you're confiding in him. You don't know why your hands are wandering from his chest up to his shoulders. The only thing you can feel is Charles' arm around you, pulling you closer to him. His one leg slides between yours so that you're sitting on his bare thigh. You just hope he can't feel your arousal pooling in your shorts.

"Mon amour," he whispers and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his other hand. From there, his fingers glide along the soft skin of your neck, over your collarbone, along your arm, until your fingers intertwine again. "Your shorts are pretty thin." He leans forward slightly and lays a feather-light kiss on your neck. You blow all the fuses. "I can feel you dripping for me. Let me help you." His hand settles on your hip and gently he pushes you back a little on his leg, but only to pull you forward again. Electricity shoots through your veins as you moan shamelessly into his face. "Friends help each other. All you have to do is say yes."

Something primal flares in his eyes as he brings your hand to his mouth and places his lips on your knuckles. A gentle gesture that is in complete contrast to how you feel inside. Fire blazes under your skin, heat coursing through your whole body as he places your hand against his cheek, then presses a kiss to your palm. "Nothing changes," you murmur, to which Charles nods. 

"Nothing changes," he confirms. "We stay friends." His hands slowly slide under your bottom, under the hem of your shorts. You feel his hot skin on yours as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh. "I promise."

Your crotch rubs against his leg with such relish and when the hem of your shorts catches on your clit, you burn out all your fuses. "Yes."

Charles' lips find your neck as his hands cup your ass and guide you over his leg. With your mouth open and your eyebrows furrowed, you dig your fingers into his shoulder blades. Pleasure pulses through your body as his mouth moves over your neck, sucking lightly on the thin skin but not lingering long enough to leave a mark. Each kiss is gentle, the complete opposite to his grip on your ass and the way he rubs you over him. 

"Charles." Your voice is little more than a sigh and you think you can feel his raging boner against your leg, but the thought quickly fades as one of his hands pulls away from you. Instantly you miss his touch, his skin on yours, but before you can do anything, his fingers reach into your hair to gently pull your head back. 

"I'm here, mon amour," he breathes against the newly won space on your neck. Gently, he sucks where your pulse is, and you think you feel his teeth against your skin for a moment. "I'm here."

You don't know where to put your hands, so you just use them to press his face closer to you. You feel his tongue at the point where your neck meets your shoulder and arch towards him. "Please."

You don't know what you're asking for, but Charles knows all the better for it. He rocks you over his leg, which is wet and slippery from your arousal, and as your knee gently bumps against his cock, he moans into your ear. 

Absently, your hands disengage from his hair and scrape down his chest to the hem of his shorts, but before you can go an inch further, his thumb and forefinger curl around your wrists. "Mon amour, today is about you," he murmurs, kissing your cheek as he notices your disappointed look. "Don't pout. Otherwise we'll stop here and now." 

You move over his thigh on your own and, without taking the chance, you nudge his boner again with your knee. "But you said -" you begin, but Charles lets go of your hands, only to hold them behind your back. 

"Nuh-uh." His lips find their place against your collarbone. Apparently he notices that you close your eyes, because his free hand rests gently against your throat. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is no more than a gasp as you open your eyes and look up at him pleadingly. You want him closer, want to feel his lips on yours, his cock splitting you in half. You want him to ruin you for any other men.

You approach the cliff, willing yourself to plunge down it, but when you close your eyes again, Charles merely presses your lap against his leg, preventing you from moving any further. You look at him in shock. "Charles."

"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." He holds you tight, chest to chest, and you try to move somehow, to rub against him. And he lets you. His hand loosens from your wrists while the other continues to rest on the column of your throat, but doesn't squeeze. "Look at me, mon amour," he repeats to himself, shamelessly sliding his hand inside your shorts so he can cup your ass. With one final movement, he pulls you forward, the hem of your shorts rubbing perfectly over your swollen bundle of nerves and white lightning flashes through your veins. "Look at me when you come for me."

And you do.

[chosai]

break his composure.

synopsis. gaining the title 'duke' not only came with the prestige, but came along the lonely days you spent yearning for your husband as he toggled the new duties and responsibilities he had to face. it was only a matter of time before you decided that you could only have so much patience, deciding that it wouldn't hurt if you played around a little – watching as your husband who held himself in great temperance and sangfroid fall into pieces the more you attempt to break his composure.

pairing. duke!nanami kento x reader genre. nobility au + smut tags. 18+ content mdni. breeding kink, explicit language, rough sex, cunnilingus word count. 4.1k

sora's note. reposted another one of my works from my old writing blog. please enjoy! <3

© chosai — do not copy, modify, or translate any of my works.

NANAMI KENTO, no doubt, was a powerful young man who earned himself the title Duke from the royal king after his contribution and victory in the most recent war. Of course, now that he was given the new title, he was given a whole lot of responsibilities and duties that he’s got to fulfill now that he had plenty more people to protect. Nowadays, the young duke would either be found training his lot of knights, hunting, or cooped up in his grand office busying himself with myriads of documents. Despite being incredibly proud of his achievements, you still couldn’t help but yearn for the affection of your beloved husband.

 Many nights were spent alone, staring up at the tall dark ceiling while you silently counted sheep – hoping that once you had reached a hundred, he would arrive and join you in bed (he’d often fall asleep on the sofa in his office). And, many nights were spent with you fending for yourself when you longed for his touch, arching your back when you’d climax on your fingers – however, you never felt fully satisfied. Your fingers could never compare to his larger and thicker fingers, nor his… 

You shake your head rapidly, feeling your cheeks growing redder by the lewd thoughts of your husband swimming through your mind. The last time you had intercourse with the male was when you both consummated the marriage, which was almost half a year ago, and then a month after that, the war happened – and two months later, he’d come back with a new title, Duke. Everything else after that was a blur. He was just within your reach — residing in the same manor and all, could almost reach for him but always got farther and farther away. You miss your husband, desperately. 

You stroll through the hallways of the manor, taking small strides towards the familiar giant door with a board of your freshly baked bread balanced in your hands. You continue to hum a gentle tune as you got closer and closer to the door. Although, it may appear to other people that his wife was innocently barging into his office thus surprising him with baked goods made with love – However, unknowingly for them, you had other plans hidden up your sleeves.

“Kento,” your voice gentle as you call out his name, “I brought you something that I think you’d love!”

You open the door further, revealing your husband — as per usual — busying himself with his documents. Fatigue was plastered all across his face, though he tried his best to mask it, but the dark circles underneath his hazel eyes were of no help. You could tell that even his muscles had gotten sore from training and staying seated for long periods of time. You placed the bread tray in front of him, and you walked around the desk to stand next to your husband. 

“Thank you, honey,” He quickly thanks you, sending you a quick nod of acknowledgement. Your husband was in pure autopilot mode, his hand continuously signing the documents despite him slowly losing focus — desperately trying to keep them open rather than succumbing to slumber.

“You should take a moment to relax, Kento.” You say. Just as he is about to come up with some type of excuse as to why he shouldn’t take a break, you lean in closer to his ear. “Let me help you.”

Your hands travel up to his back, and you applied some pressure on his shoulders while you massaged him. Your husband releases a low groan when you apply even more pressure on a stubborn muscle knot on his shoulders. You smile when he relaxes into your touch, closing his eyes while he leaned closer into you as you massaged into his sore muscles until those pesky knots disappeared. “How do you feel now?”

“I feel much better,” Kento sighs, humming pleasantly, “ Thank you for the bread, too. I’ll make sure to finish it while I continue working.”

“Can’t your break be a little longer?” You probe at him, pouting softly. “I missed you.”

A sudden wave of boldness and confidence overtakes your consciousness, and you bring yourself down on his lap, your arms snaking around your husband’s muscular shoulders. Kento looks completely taken aback, and you eat that expression up as if it is candy. 

 “Kento,” you begin, “can’t you see that your cute and loving wife misses you?”

You press your lips against his ear, before whispering: “I’ve been thinking about you so much, putting a baby inside of me.”

Slowly, you thrust your hips against his thigh, watching your husband in pure amusement as he attempts to keep his composure; his hand tightening on his pen, knuckles white. Almost immediately, you can feel him hardening underneath you, and you grin almost immediately. Something about his reaction swells your heart with pride, knowing that despite being busy you still, somewhat, had an effect on him. Even more, Kento is taken aback, completely speechless (and undeniably turned on) from his wife’s bold ministrations.

 “B-baby inside..?” His voice comes out as a dry rasp, his eyes wide .

Before your husband can process anything else, he felt the weight on his lap disappearing, and he quickly stares up to watch you getting ready to leave. You fixed the wrinkles on the hem of your dress, trying to fight back the grin on your face after having just teased your usually stoic husband. He had always appeared so cool and composed, so watching him try so hard to keep his composure undeniably gives you some type of thrill. 

“Y/N?” He calls out your name, looking visibly confused. Your eyes travel down to your husband’s trousers, smiling innocently as you caught sight of the large tent growing between his legs.

“I almost forgot to mention, but the marchioness invited me to her manor for a tea party.” You say, attempting to stifle the giggle bubbling in your throat while your husband appears flustered. “I won’t be back until tonight.”

You lean in to give him a quick kiss on his lips, not before licking his bottom lip as you pull away. You are being far too mean with your husband, but you can’t help it — watching him slowly crack beneath your manipulation sends a shock of arousal straight between your legs. “Until then, promise me that you’ll finish the bread and take breaks when you need it, okay?”

Before the man can even muster a single response, you walked out of his office. Only two could play at this game, you think to yourself as you close the office door behind you.

Hours have already passed and you finish catching up with the noble ladies, exchanging your goodbyes and letters before parting ways. It has truly been a while since you had last caught up with your friends. Nevertheless, the time spent at your friend’s manor is enjoyable, listening to all the spicy gossip while enjoying desserts and tea. 

The ride back home in the carriage is silent — the only sound present were the continuous patters from the horses’ steps. You stare outside the window, quietly watching the manor eventually disappearing as the carriage goes further away in distance. It is already a quarter past nine, perhaps the latest you have ever stayed out, and it is safe to assume that your beloved husband is probably resting on the sofa in his office again. 

You lean your back against the seat, pressing the side of your head against the window as your eyes begin to grow heavy, the distant sounds of the horses’ steps gradually lulling you into a short slumber.

“My lady, we’ve arrived.”

“Oh my, we’re already here?” You ponder to yourself out loud, groggily opening your eyes. You place your hands atop the coachman’s guiding you down the carriage, and you stare at the tall manor before you. Once you enter inside, you are automatically greeted with your maids ushering you to the bathroom with a change of clothes. Undeniably, you felt a little disappointed, as you believe that your husband had unknowingly proved your point from earlier — you, at least, hoped that he’d stay awake a little longer. You sink lower into the tub, blowing bubbles as you scrunch your brows together, the water hiding pouting lips. The maid had left you alone earlier, telling you that she’d return with a towel soon, but it’s been moments.

You glance around the bathroom, trying to decipher the exact location of your nightgown. Ah, it was on the stool, next to the door. If anyone had walked in on you grabbing your nightgown from the stool, the only thing they’d see is your wet and bare body. It shouldn’t be too bad, though —after all, it’s always been your maids coming in. Slowly, you stand up from the large tub, and you immediately shiver from the wave of cold air rushing to you,, cool beads of water dripping down your body. With careful steps, you make  your way across the room, your hand reaching out towards your nightgown. 

You suddenly hear a knock on the door, and you instinctively grab the gown to cover the front of your body. It must be the maid, you think to yourself and you try to mimic that of a stern face — however, you can’t bring yourself to be too harsh on a new maid, after all. You watch the door open slowly, and you tap your fingers against your elbows. “Hana, where were you all this… Oh.”

Almost immediately, your face is sent aflame and you scurry away from the door, your failed attempt of a stern persona pathetically crumbling away as the space revealed no one other than your husband standing in front of the doorway with a towel in his hand. Hazel eyes travel up and down your frame, his jaw tensing at the sight of your bunched up nightgown barely covering your body — hell, it didn’t cover anything, he stares longingly at your left breast deciding to slip out of the covers. He steps into the room and closes the door shut immediately, his eyes still locked into your frame and he stays silent. 

You press the nightgown against your body even more and you look away from his gaze, as if it could help hide your insecurities that are growing the more he stared and stayed silent. However, all that stops when you glance back at your husband and he gives you a come hither motion with his index finger. “Kento,” you say his name softly, “I thought you were asleep—”

“Come here,” is all he says to you, his voice low and baritone. You easily comply with his words, taking small strides to get closer to the male. “Hand me your nightgown.”

“I thought it was Hana that knocked,” you say quietly as you hand your husband your nightgown, further revealing your naked body. You can hear Kento’s breath hitch for a mere moment before he quickly regains his composure — however, it is already so fragile. He swiftly wraps the towel around your body before pulling you closer to him, his hands resting on your hips while he leans closer to your face with stern eyes. “You’re lucky that it was me, then. What were you thinking about going out of the bath like that? What if it wasn’t Hana or I that walked in?” 

“I didn't want to stay in the bath anymore, and I genuinely believed that my maids would be the only ones to walk in. Because of that, I didn’t feel too worried.” You answer your husband softly, squeezing his shoulder ever so slightly. “Despite you giving me a bit of a surprise, I can’t say that I’d rather have Hana come here instead of you.”

“Is that so? That’s a relief, then. I did tell her that I’d take care of the rest and she could rest for the night.” He hummed, before lifting you up in his arms without any warning, immediately eliciting a surprised gasp from your lips. 

“W-what are you doing?” You question your husband, stammering as you instinctively place your hand onto his chest. 

“You know, after you played your little game earlier, I wasn’t able to do my work properly.” says Kento, opening the bathroom door. “I believe you should bear some sort of responsibility, no?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mutter under your breath, masking a soft grin as you nuzzle your face into your husband’s neck.

 “Putting a baby inside you,” he says, a slight strain present in his baritone voice as he continues walking down the hall with your towel-covered body in his arms. The walk down to your shared bedroom feels like an eternity has passed, the sounds of his footsteps resonating across the quiet hall. You want to question him where the rest of maids and butlers had gone but you relented, your body tense under the man’s carnal gaze.

“If fucking a baby inside of you is what you want, then it’s what you’ll get. It’s what my sweet wife asked for, after all.”

“H-Honey, what are you—?” 

With one hand, Kento swiftly opens the bedroom door. You let out a small shriek when he throws you on the soft mattress of your king-sized bed, his large hands pinning your hands above your head. He has this carnal glint in his amber eyes as he stares deeply into yours, it was as if all his self-control was beginning to crumble right before your eyes — you’ve never seen him like this; a cool, composed and reserved man looking so disheveled above you—his dress shirt buttoned loosely, revealing his collarbones and the evident incarnadine flush radiating onto his cheeks. Truly, it is a delicious sight to behold, and the wetness dwelling between your legs only seems to grow the longer you stare at the man.

 “What a lewd woman, you are.” He mutters, his grip on your wrists tightening while his other hand trails down your chest, slowly pulling the towel down. “Was my sweet wife having fun playing teatime after leaving me to take care of this?”  

Before you can even utter a word, a sudden gasp leaves your lips when Kento grinds his hips against yours; the delightful friction of the erection growing in his trousers rubbing against your clit, your back arching in hopes to get more. “I missed you,” you say between heavy breaths, “I missed you so much—Ah! Y-You’ve been so cooped up in your o-office lately and ngh..”

Your words were cut abruptly by his lips, teeths clashed and tongues intertwined while his rough and calloused fingers trail up your torso, towards your bare chest in a teasingly slow pace. A muffled moan leaves your lips, only to be covered by your husband’s lips, as he teases your already erect nipples.

 “Tell me more,” said your husband, his lips leaving yours. 

With heavy eyes, you watch Kento’s lips trail to where his hands once rested. His tongue swirls around the mound before sucking on your skin harshly, and you rest your fingers tangled in his blond locks as he continues to elicit those cute sounds coming from your swollen lips.

“You’ve been so busy with your duties as the duke, and—Mhhm..!—I-I’ve been feeling so alone these many nights while I longed for you, so so desperately. I love you so much Kento—Ah!” You mewl out those words in unadulterated wanton, your voice all shakey, it almost sounds embarrassingly pathetic when your husband is doing nothing more than teasing your breasts rather than fucking you relentlessly in the mattress. You can barely care less about how you sound though, because his lips and touch alone are enough to send you into ecstasy. You want him to touch you more. The needy ache between your legs continuously grows more intense the longer he teases you. 

“H-Honey, ‘want more. Please.” You beg your husband, your fingers desperately trying to unbutton his wrinkled dress shirt. “I need more of you.”

Kento doesn’t reply back, continuing his little ministrations on your neglected mound. It is adorable seeing him so focused on pleasuring you, but the heat you feel in your pussy feels too overwhelming. You push your husband’s head away from your mound, his lips leaving your skin with a soft ‘pop!’ He glances at you questioningly.

It was a bold and sudden decision that you had made on a whim out of sheer desperation, but his reaction made it all the more worth it. As soon as your fingers leave his half-buttoned dress shirt, you hook your arms underneath your knees and spread your legs open, revealing your cunt drenched in your desperate juices. “Kento, I mean it when I told you that I wanted you to put a baby in me.”

His mouth is left agape at your sudden boldness, his eyes fixated on the juices slowly dripping out of your hole — his breath gets stuck in his throat as he watches your small fingers spread your pussy lips apart. “Kento, touch me. Please.”

“Shit.”

It is almost as if the string has finally snapped inside of him, because before his mind can even start to think properly, his hands are on your thighs, keeping your legs spread apart as he begins the merciless assault on your dripping folds; his tongue lapping at all your wetness as if he was animal thirsty for water. Kento almost groans at the way his finger stretches your pussy, his finger sliding in almost immediately due to your juices. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath, “you’re so wet for me.”

He slides his index finger in and out before adding a second finger to the mix. He starts off slow, but his pace gradually quickens to that of which is considered merciless. The sounds of your wet cunt getting demolished by his fingers echoes in the grand room, along with your cries of pleasure. Your hips thrash against his fingers, and you can feel the sensation of pressure that was building up in your abdomen intensifying the more that he pleases you with his large fingers. Within less than a second, you cum intensely around his fingers, a loud moan erupting from your throat as your body slumps against Kento. 

‘His fingers feel so much better compared to my fingers,’ you think to yourself as you try to recover from your first orgasm. 

While you attempt to catch your breath, you glance back to Kento only to watch him undress with your mouth salivating. It’s already a given that your husband would be incredibly fit as he often trains with the knights and hunts (while not forgetting the night you had consummated with him in the dark the past few months ago — you felt every crevice of his muscles) — but now, seeing it up close and so clearly — he is truly a sight to behold. You reach your arm towards his chiseled abdomen, your fingers drawing hearts across his skin, and your eyes travel lower past his abdomen; staring intently at the huge tent growing beneath his underwear. You want to get fucked by this man already, so so bad.

“Kento,” you say his name softly, tracing your fingers along the outline of your husband’s clothed erection before trailing back up to the waistband, tugging it down slightly to expose more of his v-line. He tugs his boxers down completely, and your mouth immediately waters at the exquisite sight. He is a lot bigger than you had remembered.

When he slowly rubs the tip of his dick against your folds, shivers trickle down your spine as you raise your hips to meet his, attempting to get him inside. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” He mumbles, his voice hoarse. “Look at you all spread open for me, desperate to get a taste of my cock.”

He slips his tip in, eliciting a sharp breath past your trembling lips, and then he pulls out. You whine out his name in a bated breath, your cheeks flushed in an incarnadine hue. Kento spares you a soft smile, almost as if it was mocking you, before he fills your hole up to the very brim — splitting your pussy open. 

“Oh fuck—Kento!” A scream slips past your lips, your eyes scrunched shut as a huge wave of pleasure rushes through your veins, sending goosebumps on your skin. Your husband is relentless with his movements, your legs spread apart by his strong grip.  The sounds of his skin slapping against yours along with cries of his name resonates across the bedroom, coupled with the intense squeaking from the mattress. “F-Feels so good—Ahn! Please—Please don’t stop—Oh!”

“You dirty woman,” Kento sneers, “we’ve just started and your pussy’s already so greedy for my cum by how tight you’re squeezing me. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get my sweet wife pregnant—filled with all my cum.”

With that, he spreads your legs even wider and leans his torso closer to yours; his face merely centimeters away from yours. “I can feel you getting tighter,” He says, his hot breath fanning against your skin, “you’re getting real close, hm?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to properly reply though, as he trails his one hand down to your clit and rubs rough circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a silent scream—your mouth agape and eyes rolled back as you ride out your orgasm, arching your back against his chest. 

You are barely given enough time to recover when Kento returns to work, his lips instantly connecting to yours while he thrusts his cock inside your sopping hole with a stuttering pace. His hands travel up to your breasts and gives them a harsh squeeze, the pace of his thrusts quickening. Your husband looks utterly delectable, his face scrunched up as he focuses on your pleasure, small beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. Pleasure fills your veins, and your cries only increase in volume the closer you are to reaching your second orgasm. 

Thoughts of you being all plumped up and pregnant play repeatedly in his mind, and it merely ignites his desire to pump all his cum into you. Breaths ragged, he stuffs his head into the crook of your neck, nails gripping into your hips as he continues to plummet into you. “K-Kento—!” You wantonly whine out his name, wrapping your legs tightly around your husband’s hips. “Cum inside me—please. Want your kids so bad.”

How can he not cum? Especially when the sight of his sweet wife being drunk on his dick is right before his eyes. With a groan (combined with a growl) of your name along with a string of curses leaving his lips, he stiffens up inside you; warm ropes of his cum coating your walls white. 

Upon pulling out, he watches large beads of white leaking out of your hole and he sticks his finger inside, pushing his cum back inside. You released a soft sigh in pleasure, your legs slightly twitching at your husband’s touch. 

“How are you feeling now?” Questions your husband, Kento. You reach your arm out to his face, your thumb tracing light circles on his cheekbones. 

“I’m a happy, happy wife,” you reply to him, laughing softly before leaning into his lips, giving him a soft peck. Kento chuckles lightly into the kiss. “Was I too rough with you?” He asks you once more, and you shake your head immediately.

“I think I’ve realized just now how much I enjoy being manhandled by you,” you reply back to him, giggling. “Rather, I enjoy seeing this new side of you.”

Your giggles quickly gets replaced by a slight gasp when your husband suddenly adjusts your position, your face and chest now pressed against the mattress with your husband behind you, his hand lightly rubbing his erect cock. Swiftly, you turn your head to Kento, your mouth agape as you are just about to question him but the sting of his hand on your ass immediately erases all rational thoughts in your mind. Heat immediately rushes to your face once more at the foreign, yet pleasurable sensation. 

“K-Kento,” you are able to utter your husband’s name, your arms already feeling weak from holding yourself up from the mattress. A shaky breath leaves your lips when he slowly rubs his cock against you from behind, your ears picking up a hoarse chuckle.

“I never said I was done with you,” Kento tells you, “not until I’m sure that you’ll get pregnant with all my cum.”

interactions + reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! thank you for reading <3

[luvrxbunny]

fangs

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

Summary: You see Miguel’s fangs for the first time. 

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, fangs, very minimal self-doubt, cum in pants (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.9k

A/N: I used google translate for the spanish so if anything is incorrect im sorry 

‘Your package was delivered’

Your face brightens at the notification as you hop out of bed and rush to the front door. When you open it you’re met with the broad, muscular back of your boyfriend, Miguel O’Hara.

“Miggy?” You say with a laugh. “What are you doing out here? Oh my god, are you my package?!” You’re hunched over, laughing at your own joke as Miguel stands from his seated position, casting his large shadow over you. 

“Hi, amor.” He places a kiss on your forehead and walks in. “How has your day been?” He asks as he strips off his suit top and walks to the bedroom but you don’t answer, still wondering about something. 

“Why were you just sitting out there?” You ask while closing the front door and taking your slippers off. Miguel hasn’t said anything, letting a long pause draw out before answering.

“I was calming down.” He comes back out in a t-shirt that’s tighter than it needs to be and some gray sweatpants. 

“The fight was pretty intense, a little demanding y’know? So I just wanted to- I wanted to calm down before coming inside… But how was your day?” You don’t let the subject change, still confused with his statement. 

There have been plenty of times when Miguel would burst in, still aggressive and amped up from the latest fight, adrenaline still coursing through him. The first time it happened you were a little scared of course, you’d never seen him like that, eyes clouded with violence, his claws out in the air and threatening, with a deep scowl on his face. But that was a long time ago.

You’ve mastered the art of turning him from Spider-Man to Miggy. You learned it quite some time ago, which just furthers your confusion from his response. He’s rummaging through the cabinets, muttering about how he’s starving and you realize he hasn’t met your gaze since you found him which is incredibly unlike him. 

“Miguel, is that the truth? I mean- You’ve come in all amped up before so…” You trail off as Miguel freezes in the kitchen before sighing and running a hand through his hair. He closes the cabinet gently and turns to you, eyes cast downward before meeting yours. He takes another breath and walks to you. “It’s the technical truth uh… The whole truth is that my fangs were out and… I just- I don’t want you to see them.” He finishes his sentence and walks past you, to the bathroom and closes the door. 

You stand at the entrance to the kitchen in a stupor as you process his words and go chasing after him. You’re pounding on the bathroom door, begging him to let you see them, to let you kiss him with them out, and every other thought that comes to your mind, hoping it lightens the situation. You stop pounding after a few minutes, arms growing tired and getting a little embarrassed at his silence. You make your way over to the couch as you wait for him. 

You think about what he said, that he doesn’t want you to see his fangs and you feel a little pang of hurt in your heart that ripples through your body. 

He doesn’t want me to see them? Why though… Does he think I won’t like them? Does he think my opinion of him will change or something? I love him though, doesn’t he understand that?? Maybe it’s something super intimate, maybe he just doesn’t feel enough for me, for him to expose himself like that. Maybe he doesn’t trust me enough to be that vulnerable, to give all of him to me… 

Your thoughts turn your mood sour as Miguel finally emerges from the bathroom, teeth brushed and face newly washed. “I don’t want to show them to you.” The words strike your heart again as you nod your head at him, not even looking up at him as you fall into your negative thoughts. He watches you stare into the carpet, obviously deep in thought but you look sad. 

“You okay, hermosa?” He wipes his hands in the towel around his neck as he sits beside you on the couch. You don’t hear him, too inside your own head, leaving him ignored. He watches you for a bit before grabbing one of your thighs and turning your body to face him, knocking you out of your trance. You have a deep, heartbreaking expression on your face that you quickly mask with happiness when your eyes meet his. “I asked if you were okay, baby.” 

“Oh! Y-yeah! Yeah, I’m fine, sorry.” You giggle at him but it sounds hollow, making him guilty. He already knows why, he knows how your mind works, he knows how you think. He pulls you in, one leg is extended past him and the other is folded on the couch, touching his leg, your face a few inches from his. 

“Mi cariño, no tiene nada to do with you, okay? Nothing. I just-” He emphasizes ‘nothing’, willing you to believe him. He’s absently rubbing your calf as he tries to piece together what he wants to say. “They’re weapons. I feel like… I don't think I want you to see that… A part of me that’s a weapon. You look at me like… como si fuera tu todo, like I hung the stars… I love that and I don’t want it to change. Nunca quiero que eso cambie.” His eyes are looking at your calf, how his hand wraps around it instead of you. 

(“My love, it has nothing to do with you okay?” “...like I'm your everything…” “I never want that to change.” )

If he had been looking at you he would’ve seen the look of utter disbelief that rested on your face. You put your hand over his and pull yourself closer to him, placing a kiss on his forehead before speaking. “Miguel, I look at you that way because, despite the way you feel about yourself, I believe that you deserve every good thing the world has to offer. I want you to know that you don’t have to show them to me if you really don’t want to but be aware… I will love you for the rest of my life.. and there is nothing that can change that, my feelings for you literally cannot decrease.” 

He stays silent, avoiding your gaze still but you let him. You know that expressing himself is hard for him and hearing people speak positively to him is even harder. You giggle softly at his silence and place another kiss on his head. You’re about to get up from the couch when he pulls you back in, pressing his lips to yours with a bruising intensity that has a fire starting up in your stomach. Your lips part for him as he sighs into you, his hand grips your hair and he grunts as you feel something push against your mouth. He’s breathing faster, kissing you more passionately as you try to pull away. 

Eventually, you break from his grasp and try to look at him but he’s already turned from you. You want to protest but don’t want to push him. You bring one of your hands to rest at his nape, playing with some of the hairs there, trying to soothe him. You’re about to tell him that he doesn’t need to turn away, you can leave until he’s calmed down but he turns to you. His mouth is shut but his eyes are so fragile, like they’re pleading with you to be gentle. He holds your eye contact for a bit before opening his mouth in a smile-grimace expression. 

A gasp slips from your mouth and your hands come up to hold his face, pulling it to yours. You inspect his fangs as his warm breath floats over your face. You bring one hand from his face to tail over one of them, earning a flinch from Miguel but you run your other thumb across his cheek, attempting to soothe his worries. 

They’re much bigger than you expected, they look like they’d barely fit in his mouth. They’re smooth and glossy like marble, cleaner than you expected too. You wonder silently if he lets them come out, brushes them, and then retracts them as your other hand comes from his cheek to his mouth. They’re thick, they look like they could leave a sizeable puncture wound if he bit you. Your fingers squeeze around both fangs, feeling their width for yourself. Your fingers run along the length of his fangs and then go up to his gums. 

You’re completely captivated by his teeth, you haven’t even looked back up at him since he opened his mouth. You absently caress his fangs while inspecting his gums, trying to understand where they go when retracted. You give up on that when your thumb runs over the bottom of his fangs. 

He groans out, loud and ragged against your face. 

Your eyes flicker up to look at him and his eyes are rolled back into his head, eyebrows furrowed as he moans out a loose rendition of your name. You’re staring at him in awe as he mutters out a mix of unfinished words. You immediately look down into his lap and see a patch of dark gray spreading out. 

A moan rips from your throat as you press your hand against his hard, twitching, leaking cock and kiss him. His hips instantly twitch up into your hand, using the friction to prolong his orgasm. He’s moaning into your mouth, his hands are frantic as they push your head into his face, his fangs digging into your lips almost painfully. You slide your tongue into his mouth when he moans again, you explore it, feeling the fangs instantly and running your tongue over them. 

The action earns a gut-wrenching whine from Miguel as he starts to tremble. His hips are still bucking up into your palm, overstimulating himself as his cock spurts out mini loads. 

You pull away from him slowly, your hand gently massaging his cock as he comes down. He drops his head onto your shoulder as he pants, unsteady syllables of your name falling from his lips. 

He lifts his head from your shoulder once his cock stops jumping in your hold. There’s a rare pink hue over his face as he leans in to kiss you. You accept it with a smile, kissing him back before pulling away again. 

“So…” You start semi-awkwardly, a light laugh in your tone as he groans out, embarrassed. “Did that feel good? Are they sensitive?” A shuddering breath leaves him as he recalls how your fingers felt gliding over his fangs, how arousal punched into his gut the moment you touched them. 

“Yeah… It felt-” His sentence is cut off with a whisper of a whine as he thinks about it, breathing speeding up, chest heaving at the fresh memory. You’re surprised at this, you’ve never seen him so delirious so… fucked out. “Me sentí tan bien, bebé. N-no sabía que me sentía así. I loved it so much, you made me feel so fucking good, amor. Te amo tanto, cariño.” 

(“I felt so good, baby. I-I didn't know I felt like that”... “I love you so much, darling.”)

A smile graces your face at the one phrase you understand, ‘Te amo’. You pull him in for another kiss before whispering. “Good.” He groans and pulls you into his lap, whining when your weight presses against his sensitive cock. You smile into his lips and kiss him again, pulling away again to giggle at him. 

“ ‘S not funny.” He grumbles out as he leans back, laying down on the couch with you on top of him. You continue giggling into his neck and you can feel his cheeks fatten up with his smile. 

You guys stay there for the rest of the night, intermittently waking up to smother the other in kisses before falling back to sleep. 

Thank you so much for reading!! Please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all!

[andersonfilms]

≛ LONELY IS THE MUSE!

❝ ABBY!CENTRIC ONE SHOT ❞

feat. bodyguard!abby x famous actor!reader

warnings. eighteen+, suggestive nsfw content: reader fell first nd and abby fell harder, some angst, fluff, slightly coded fem reader, personal trainer!abby, just two idiots pining. i saw the discourse for some romance and i wanted to do my part. enjoy friends.

LONELY IS THE MUSE, entangled in an endless web of a high profile life, everyone waiting on you hand and foot, hollywood’s star in their prime — everyone needing a piece for themselves. yet the mysterious blonde who has not a clue to who you are catches the eye of the lonely muse.

wc. 8k

“You know you don’t have to stand this close to me.” Abby counters, but her words didn’t make you move an inch. Not that she really thought they would. Secretly, she enjoys your gentle touch. She likes how comfortable you feel around her. The downpour in New York has your arm entangled with her own, your hand gripping her bicep as she holds the umbrella.

“Maybe, but I don’t want to ruin my hair.” You replied gently, as you rested your head against her relaxed bicep.

“God, forbid your hair be in ruin, sweet girl.” Abby’s wet lips look inviting, especially when she’s smirking at you. Delectable, enticing, desired seeping underneath your soul as you try your best to keep them at bay. 

“Now that would be positively tragic, wouldn’t it? Just a paparazzi’s wet dream. Need my hair in ruins for them to get a handsome payday.” Abby shakes her head, the budding smile threatening to reveal itself. You can see how it grows, despite the effort she makes to disguise it. 

“I think you do enjoy my company. Paid or not, I bring some light into your life.” You play with the ends of her hair. The blonde feels a tingle pricking at her skin. She ignores it. 

“I can see that smile.” 

Better than anyone, Abby knows the gleam in your eyes is too dangerous to entertain, so she looks forward. It’s what she's paid to do, to keep you safe. Not to entertain some weird crush that will soon pass when you move on to the next actress, artist, or producer. She doesn’t need a reminder of how different your world is, she’s already abundantly clear on where the both of you stand. Worlds apart from each other, even if you’re leaning against her, the greedy hands of the public grab onto you first, mercilessly sucking the life out of anyone who enters your life. 

All it does is isolate you, making your life incredibly lonely. Trapped on the throne you built with your raw talent, but the industry is a double edged sword, as much as it appears to lift you up, it impales any sense of normalcy at a private, peaceful life. You take pride in these little moments you have with her. It’s the only time you get to have a taste of normalcy, even if you did have a bodyguard, which wasn’t entirely normal. Yet, Abby is a gentle reminder of a life she wishes to have. Someone who is kind, and loving; a soul that exists for no selfish gain, greed, or selfishness. 

Sometimes, you take advantage of it. 

Abby knows you crave physical affection. Ever since your messy break up, you’ve been finding any little excuse to justify it. Abby didn’t really mind at all. Even if she tried to deny it in her head, she’d miss it if you stopped. The incessant need you have to be close to her at all times, your essence bleeding on to her, suffocating her with everything she wants, but knows she can’t ever let herself dip into the deepest edges of you. 

Especially, not when you are still attempting to decode the wreckage of your last relationship. 

Abby hates seeing you like this, but she knew there was little she could do to help. All she could do is let you ride the wave of heartbreak, take in the silent tears hitting full cheeks, and hope it would all end soon for you. For now, she would allow immediate proximity.

You’re hurting. You need it.  

The first few weeks, even a couple months after, she expects it. Now it’s month four, and you were still touching her all the time. Lame excuses falling from your lips daily and Abby was sure you didn’t even believe them. She thought about bringing it up to you, establishing healthy boundaries before she crosses a line.

Yet, it feels…nice.

It felt good to be needed. The reason she had taken this job in the first place. It wasn’t what she had imagined for herself – a bodyguard of a famous musician. She jokes about it now, but it's a twisted fate for the two of you. Your eyes shine bright whenever someone asks, and you always take the lead.

Abby has always been more reserved, and your personality is as bright as the sun. She liked Abby the second she laid eyes on her. Not because she was beautiful or the most gorgeous human she’d ever seen.

Which she is.

No.

Her stupid pounding heart, the one she felt beating violently out of her chest, loves you, has no idea who she is.  She had thought possibly the blonde stranger was putting on a front, some did. They liked to conceal their intentions behind greedy eyes and malicious intent.

But Abby turned out to be different.

When a blossoming friendship turned into a job opportunity, it took Abby through a loop. It was the very last thing she was expecting from you. You’d kept her in the dark and when you announced exactly who you were, Abby really didn’t know. Never was she really a fan of social media, didn’t really partake in it unless someone was showing her the latest trend going around. She’s a little old fashioned but she likes it. It worked in her favor when it came to you. Unknowingly, for the first time since your fame struck as quick as lightning, you had the pleasure to befriend someone who had no idea who you were. 

As fresh as breathing your first breath of air, you took pride in the circumstance. Someone enjoying your company for who they are and not just for your social standing, fame, or most importantly the money. Before either of you could really even fully come to it, Abby has become such an influential person in your life, and then you were attempting to entice her with a job opportunity, and she accepted. 

You thought it would take longer and knew from the moment you had asked. But her life was uprooted by you, and she felt guilty about how much it fills her up with glee. 

In the last year, Abby became the only person worthy of your trust, the only one who would keep your confessions confined, not letting the secrets drip like cheap wine down the drain. Rather more as if she was out in the vineyard, carefully hand picking the grapes for the wine as she crafts it herself. Giving it the love, care, and attention it needs to flourish into fine beverage. From one sip alone, knowing she would crave for the taste. 

Getting to know you in ways some would dream of. Often, the mass of the public did, but you’re more selective who you let in your life now. Swiftly, you noticed how easily Abby listened. 

Listening and seeing you for who you are, not some strewed version the media made you out to be.  

She understood why you felt the need to and maybe why you felt comfortable with her. You spent time with her more than anyone. After two years together, she had learned every little detail about you. Where you liked to get your morning coffee, your favorite brunch spot, which bar you like to frequent when you had a night to give, which gym was your favorite, and to not speak with you until you’ve had said coffee. 

It’s these little things Abby remembers, constantly getting her in trouble.

When paparazzi are around, you always accept her hand as she guides you through the swarming crowd. Abby knows you despise it. How inhumane it makes you feel. You feel like an attraction, an object the masses had come to see rather than being viewed as an actual person. In these moments, you cling onto Abby the most. While she’s intimidating to all, there leaves a small exception for you, never has she once been anything to you more than just a sweet, gentle giant she wants close to her at all times. 

Her stature is standing a little over six feet tall. Her arms always looked too good against the tight fabric of her shirt. The one you grip onto as she is navigating through a crowd with you in tow, she’s always focused. The remainder of your team was behind you, while she was always in front of you.

At all times, protecting you.

But it was moments like today, you were grateful for. You blended with the hectic life of the city. You were just two people waiting at a crosswalk, waiting to get to your next destination.

Abby tries not to pay too much attention to how you’re squeezing her bicep, with a strong grip further indication you weren’t letting go anytime soon.

She supposes it’s better than feeling your hand in hers. There were times when Abby deemed it necessary. She would grab it whenever she needed to get you through from point a to point b, quickly. It made you follow her pace instead of lingering behind. She didn’t even know how she was supposed to feel with your head resting against her arm, your body so close to hers.

How was she supposed to act normally?

The rumors were already getting bad. You denied them when asked, and you did gracefully each time.

All Abby could think about if this moment was captured, it would be perceived as intimate. It felt like it was, but she didn’t want the entire world to see. Not when she felt the two of you walking this very nimble line of friends, something professional, and something more. She didn’t need thousands of eyes giving their two senses in a situation she didn’t even fully understand yet. All it took was one person to snap a photo if she gets too close to you. If her touch stayed on you for too long, or if she let the love reach her eyes. The ladder was the most difficult to control. It’s a part of her just as much as the air in her lungs.

This life is new to her. At times, Abby wondered if she’s biting off more than she could chew.

The only reason she’d left was for you. She had a small, quiet life. Abby’s life was very average, a cloud of normalcy hovered above her before the two of you met. A personal trainer full time and she resided in a cabin about half an hour from where she worked. She chopped wood to relieve stress, Her girlfriend liked it at the time, and she did too. She had her two dogs, and a darling kitten. 

She enjoyed the privacy. The isolated countryside her sweet family could reside in. Abby had built this life she was proud of, and it made her happy. For a time, it worked. She was genuinely content with where she was. There wasn’t a need to stress or control where her life was going. It felt like a huge relief. She tended to live inside her own head, not be present in what she has right in front her.

It had been months since she felt like that. It’d felt good and she was proud of herself for not succumbing from within and really coming to terms with what she had built around her. This was the most difficult route for her to take. To allow herself to be open, even if there was a chance of her falling.

Abby really should have felt remorseful for leaving it all behind.

Nora was sweet. The most caring partner she ever had, but there wasn’t much she could compare it to. Besides her, there had only been two, and she didn’t even count Owen. A long misstep until she landed where she needed to be. He did care for her, and he seemed to be more kind-hearted than most men, but the bar was set so low, he should’ve exceeded expectations.

And he did, in some areas.

Others, he fell more than flat but there was little to nothing he could do about it. Abby likes girls and he wasn’t one. Her sexuality shattered their relationship into a million pieces – leaving neither of them any option but to move on.

Nora felt real. This genuine connection she’d never experienced before. Abby knew it one year into their relationship. The pair had built this life together, one where she didn’t feel trapped in, and one Abby could be proud of. She felt acknowledged and loved Nora. There wasn’t a sliver of a doubt in her mind this where she needed to be.

She tells Nora when she needs space, and she isn’t ashamed of it. If she didn’t want to go out, Nora wouldn’t guilt trip her into it. Abby didn’t feel pressured to intertwine her identity with Nora just because they were together. Nora hardly ever gave Abby a reason to be upset. She showed up like partners were supposed to, even when Abby didn’t.

But it was a heavy weight to carry for Nora. Being her first serious queer relationship, Abby was left stunted in areas where Nora had to lend a helping hand. She never made Abby feel bad about it, but the two of them could feel the string keeping them threatening to snap.

Often, it frustrated Abby. To always be the one receiving help and never giving it. She didn't blame her partner, but she was left at a crossroad. 

She never understood Owen more and it really pissed her off.

To no fucking end.

But Nora was far more patient than Abby had ever shown. Maybe it was the testament to love or maybe Nora was just a good person and Abby is shitty. She had more patience than Mother Thersea herself, and it amazed her. Always guiding Abby with a gentle hand, never getting upset with her even when she let her anger shine through.

It makes her feel undeserving of a love she could never earn.

This pure and untainted love had never touched her before, and she’d never fallen this hard. Abby didn’t want to be anywhere but here. She really thought this could be it. Nora could be the one. They could get through those hardships together, right? 

Then you came and overwhelmed her like a tsunami.

She was running late, which was completely out of the ordinary for Abby. Instead of her neat braid, her sun kissed-blonde hair was in a low bun. Underneath her eyes was evidence of her lack of sleep. She hadn’t been getting any as of lately and the bags only seemed to get deeper.

Abby wouldn’t call the fights constant, but it sure did feel like it.

The back and forth, having the same fight consistently. Abby was more than frustrated. The biggest efforts she made were dismissed by Nora, even making her upset at times. She was trying too hard and being annoying, or not doing enough and then it meant she wasn’t present in the relationship.

Abby felt her stuck at a wall, Nora on the other side of it and she couldn’t hear a damn thing.

So, she was running late.

One of the many fights  they’ve had with each other as of late. Nora is tired of dealing with a “baby gay” as she likes to remind her in the heat of their arguments. Abby gets offended, her lips forming into an even deeper pout, her porcelain skin flushed in anger before she gives them both space. 

Contemplating about the future of their relationship in the shower, causing her to be late to work in the process. 

Astronomically behind – her client arrived at the gym she worked at half an hour ago. The most recent argument with Nora plagued her morning. All they seem to do is argue, trapped in what they both need from the relationship, but all the two of them could do is argue, argue, argue.

But neither of them makes a move. They are still as the eerie silence that carries them into questioning. 

It’s when she’s too inside her head, fearing about the future, when she violently bumps into you. Body colliding with yours, Abby’s stone-like build causes you to crash into the pavement, your belongings scatter along with Abby’s. 

“Fuck. Are you alright? Sorry, I’m in such a hurry, I’m sure I wasn’t even paying attention.” You let her pick you from the ground, she does with ease. She looks right through you and you expect the excitement, the excited tears, or to be asked for a picture but it never comes.   

“For a moment I thought I ran into a wall—” You giggle to yourself. “Really, I’m alright.” You spoke softly. You pick up both of your belongings that had slipped from both of your grips, returning it to its owner. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Abby asks again. 

You think it’s cute how much lace of concern is conveyed in her cerulean eyes, full of light and wonder, so beautiful it stops you in your tracks. 

“No no! I’m fine! Really don’t worry about it.” 

Honestly, you’re still in amazement she has no idea who you are. It makes your fondness of her grow even more. The two of you depart quickly, go about your day, and you think nothing of it until you go to unlock your phone to message your manager and it’s not a picture of the moon you’d taken during the eclipse, it’s the mysteriously hot and kind woman you’d run into before. 

Shit. She has my phone. 

Lucky for you, Abby was coming to the same realization. Ready to bring out the workout she had planned out for her first client, opening her phone to access where she had written everything out only to find this isn’t her phone. Well, fuck. 

Abby hollers at Dina to take over the client for a moment, excusing herself for a moment before retreating into the office to call from her direct line. 

Idiot Anderson. Now you get to make an idiot of yourself, twice. 

Way to go. 

She calls her phone and it rings a few times before the familiar voice chimes through the speaker, the one she heard this morning during her fit of anxiety. 

“Please tell me this is the woman I ran into earlier or else I’m going to be even more embarrassed for answering a stranger's phone.” 

“Well you’re in luck.” 

“Oh thank fuck—” You curse yourself before being so vulgar with someone who you didn’t even know. “Sorry! God, this is all my fault. I must have swapped our phones when I picked them up and didn’t even realize.” 

“It’s okay, really, if I was paying attention where I was walking this morning it never would have happened. Did you wanna meet?” 

“No! Let me. Please, this is all my fault. I should at least be the one who makes the drive.” 

“Are you sure? It’s really no trouble. I don’t mind.” 

“I’m really sure.” 

Abby offers the address of work, thinking once after she does if it’s a good idea, a total stranger knowing where she works but she’s already giving the street name and suite number before she can even make her mind. Abby usually doesn’t get nervous but this situation has sent her into a frenzy, thinking about how dumb she could have been. Nora will get a good laugh out of it she thinks, then she is reminded of the fight the two of them were still in. She wonders if she’s even tried to reach out to her yet or if Nora’s just waiting until Abby’s anger rolls over. 

More favorably, the ladder. 

Until the two of them have the comfort of their lives, the cushion they have between their shared friends and the home they share twenty minutes out of the state, until it comes up again and they’ll be contemplating it all over again. Anxiously, the front desk girl, Bevs, the younger girl who has a crush on her, shyly comes up to her. 

Bevs says what she assumes is your name, confusing Abby in the process. 

“You know her?” 

“How could you not? She’s one of the most famous actresses ever.” Abby is stunned to say the least. Truthfully, she had no idea. Her lack of social media keeps her out of the loop and as much as her friends tease her about, if Abby knew who you were the first time around, she’s sure she wouldn’t have been able to say more than two words. Clearly, you’re a fresh face to her. Already, Abby knows Manny is going to have a field day when Bevs lets this information spill in her sheer excitement. 

Great, she thinks. 

“Oh.” 

“I put her in your office. Some of the clients were already starting to have questioning looks, putting the pieces together. Hey! Maybe they're as clueless as you.” 

“Bevs, go back to the front desk.” With a curt nod and realizing she has pushed too far, with a tail between her legs she retreats back to her post. 

Okay, Anderson, let’s get this over with. 

Abby smells you the minute she steps foot in her office. It’s not the usual pinewood scent the candle in her office radiates. There’s a lingering smell of lavender with just a hit of vanilla. It’s sweet as it engulfs her nostrils, she finds herself sniffling slightly, a silent beg for more of it. You’re standing the minute you’re aware of her presence. Painfully, Abby is aware of her lack of clothing. The tight sport jacket is left unopened, her black sweatpants, accompanied with her sports bra, abs on display as she watches your eyes examine her carefully. 

She’s not sure how to feel about it. 

There is a moment, a short one where your eyes go to her chest, the silver barbells constricting against the small fabric, clear as to what lies beneath. 

Abby does smirk at that. She’s only human. 

You keep staring at her for a minute longer, well it feels like one but Abby deems it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” 

“It’s really not a problem.” The more time goes on, the sweeter you are. “It’s pretty close to where I live.” 

Abby didn’t know it then but you were lying straight through your teeth. The trainer didn’t know you moved around your entire day to make the phone swap or the butterflies swarming your stomach from just how attractive and nice she seemed to be. There was something about her that sent your caution flying to the wind, drifting in the leaves with the rest of your pride. 

“Well I appreciate you coming out this way, even if it’s in your area. I really wouldn’t have minded taking the drive.” Abby pulls out your phone as she hands you yours. It’s simple, transactional, and it should have just been left at that but you had a fondness of putting your foot in your mouth. 

“Are you a trainer here?” 

“Uh, yeah. Been doing it for a few years actually. I spent so much time here already, now I get paid for it. Can’t really complain.” 

“Do you ever do private sessions?” 

“Um-” Abby scratches the back of her awkwardly, not sure if you’re asking her genuinely or if you’re trying to insinuate something else entirely. 

“Oh fuck no! I didn’t mean it like that. I just have a….job opportunity I have to get in shape for and you just look like you know what you’re doing.” Abby thought you might as well point to her physique but if anything she was flattered. It was always nice knowing something she’s been working on for years, her longest standing commitment besides Nora, is appreciated. 

“Sure, we could work something out.” You slightly smile before you exchange phones, this time on purpose, to put in the other’s number. Normally, she didn’t give out her number to clients, but Abby makes an exception for you that day. To this day, she’ll never outwardly admit why she did, not even to herself. 

- 

Two years later, she’s single from her life being turned upside down by you. The casualty being her own relationship, leaving Nora behind was one of the hardest decisions she’s made. Nora never agreed on Abby taking the job. As much as Nora wished for Abby to be more open about their endeavors, as soon as she accepted an offer that could drastically expand the trajectory of their life, Nora couldn’t be asked to compromise another thing. 

That was that. Not even two months into Abby working for you and Nora had called it quits. Abby never talked about it, only you knew she had a girlfriend she used to talk about when you began training with her, and then it was just silent. Back then, you didn’t know her well enough to pry, so you didn’t. 

Even as time passed, the two of you became friends through your employment, spending all your time with her during press season for your upcoming film, Lonely Is The Muse, together. Today was the only day you had off, even if it means Abby technically had the day off, you insisted that both of you leave the hotel and go out for the day. It's the most peace you felt during the European leg of the tour. Only one more day of dealing with your sensory issues, people in your face telling you when and where to go, or the distasteful question regarding your past public breakup instead of the work you were promoting. 

Some interviewers were kind enough to let the drama go but some wanted to get their own viral moment, waiting for you to say the wrong thing. As the industry likes to say, any publicity is good publicity. 

When you’re America's sweetheart actress of the century, such luxuries can’t be afforded. 

As your manager likes to remind you, there’s a reputation you have to protect. 

“Would you like to head back now? Long day tomorrow. Last day of interviews and then your flight leaves first thing in the morning.” 

“Did Stassie put you up to this?” 

“Maybe.” 

“I thought you were supposed to be the fun one.” 

“Mhm, your definition of fun is letting you do whatever you want.” 

“And the problem with that is?” 

All Abby can do is chuckle. 

“What do you want to do then?” Abby asks. She takes note of the sparkle in your eyes, as blinding as the sun but obtaining the serenity of the moon. “I’m all ears sweetheart.” 

It’s how the two of you end up here, a rooftop party, a friend of a friend you said. The party was lowkey, more than the typical ones you would get invited. Maybe because you weren’t in Los Angeles, Miami, or New York — but tucked away on another continent — or perhaps everyone here is just discreet. 

There’s only two fans that come up to you instead of twenty. You’re thankful for some sense of normalcy, one night where you can just feel normal. It still never gets old, people coming up to you as they confess the impact you’ve had on their life. It feels unbelievable at times but you’re grateful for the luxury life you’ve been granted. 

“Here. No liquor tonight.” Abby hands you a glass of red wine, your favorite beverage of choice when you couldn’t have tequila. 

“Yes Ma’am.” You playfully salute her. More than anything, you enjoy the not so subtle chuckle. “Not that I don’t love your company but isn’t Stassie supposed to boss me around?” 

“She felt under the weather. Plus, we both know you don’t listen to her.” 

“And I listen to you?” Your hand plays with her loose blonde hair, smoothing out the white button she’s wearing. 

“Yeah, you do. I wonder why that is.” Abby is playing with fire tonight. Possibly due to the fact that you wouldn’t leave her side, not even for a moment, keeping your body close, practically gluing yourself to her. Yes, she’s charged with keeping you safe and protected but it seems you find enjoyment bringing it to another level entirely. 

“You’re much nicer to look at, that’s all.” It’s light, a quiet whisper, not meant to be heard by anyone — not even for Abby to hear. “Don’t wanna make my handsome bodyguard upset.” 

Faking your pout as you let the words leave your lips, Abby chuckles as you get closer to her, her body standing strong as you push your weight onto her. Stoic as always, while you lean on her, she keeps her eyes peeled. Ensuring your safety at all times. 

“Flattery isn’t going to get you a shot tonight.” 

“I’m just stating the obvious.” 

Abby chuckles, again. She’s delighted you’re enjoying yourself, even if it comes at her expense. There’s a soft jazz song playing outside, couples dancing to the music, you zone out for a moment as you look upon one in particular. 

They are older, possibly in their forties, raven hair beginning to gray, fine lines crinkle when they smile at each other but it’s hard to take note of anything else but the way the couple looks at each other. Your mind wonders how long they’ve been together, if it’s been for years, months, a couple weeks. 

It doesn’t really matter. You just want that. 

The feeling isn’t lost on you, especially when you’re in the arms of the woman you love. For her, she’s being protective, doing her job but you wish it was different. A bubbling desire dripping off your tongue, a need to have her close to you but because she wants. Not because she’s paid to. 

“If I can’t have any tequila shots, god forbid, you have to dance with me.” You down the rest of your wine, placing the empty glass on the bar. “C’mon, you can give Stassie an earful later.” 

Pulling her towards the makeshift dance floor, Abby leads as your head rests against her chest. The steady, soft heartbeat soothes you, a reminder of the safety you feel with her. Caught in the riptide of her kind eyes and heart full of gold. It’s what makes her so unique, so loved, so her. With a surprisingly good tone, Abby sings to the music softly before twirling you around and spinning your body back to her. 

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Your hand rubs lovingly on her lower back as she holds you in her arms. You take pride when it doesn’t feel transactional. When she holds you and it feels as if she was meant to. There’s nothing else comparable to it, her frame melting into yours as your soul finds solace in her warm embrace. 

“There’s plenty of things.” Playfully, Abby smirks. 

“Oh yeah. I’m sure.” 

The sarcasm practically drips out of you as her smirk grows wider. 

“Can I ask you something?” You hesitate for a moment as you find her beautiful blue eyes staring into your soul. It’s only then does everything troubling might dissipate while she holds you — secretly hoping it’s forever. 

“You can ask me anything.” 

You give yourself a moment to collect your thoughts as you move to the delicate beat. “Do you ever wish for a life where you could have had a normal life? I wonder if things could be different.” 

Immediately, Abby answers. 

“Not anymore, no, not for a second.” 

If it was even possible, Abby pulls you closer to her, not urging a word more. It’s how she is, cold and distant to some but they don’t feel the stutter in her breath when you’re near or the soft pad of her thumb rubbing soothingly on the back of your hand. Or the soft words of encouragement when you’re having a difficult day. 

They hear none of it. 

She dances with you for a couple more songs, before you find solace on the couch. You lay beneath the moonlight, your body cuddles into her side as you stare up at the sky. 

It’s lost on you how you’ve ended  with her, someone as kind and untainted as her, wanting to spend her free time with you, but you’re grateful for it. Whatever god you have to thank, you’ll get on your knees to praise their alter for bringing Abby into your life. She’s the best thing to ever happen to you and she doesn’t even know it. Albeit, she hardly knows the extent of how wonderful she is. 

“Why here?” 

“It’s a good night, nice weather. Why not?” 

A question with a question. It’s the most straightforward answer you’ll ever give her. Innuendos for the sweet girl to piece together, but with the soft circles being drawn her stomach with the pad of your finger leaves little to nothing to decode. 

“It’s nice, yeah.” 

Abby always has so little to say but her mind swarms with a thousand reasons why this is a bad idea and a million of why this is where the constellations in the jaded sky have led to you. Straight into the pits of innocence, a heart that’s been hurt more times than she can count but still as golden and whole as one could be. 

“What do you think of Italy?” 

“It’s nice.” 

“Nice? That’s all I get?” 

Abby smirks but her body stills when you play with the waistband of her trousers before gliding back to the security of her abdomen, carving the liner of her defined abs. The ones she tries so hard to cover up, but you saw on the very first day you met her. 

“Do you want more?” You ask, an eyebrow raising in suggestion. Abby knows it’s a double edged sword, one she doesn’t want to be injured with. 

“You’re playing a very dangerous game.” Cautiously, Abby warns. “I’m not sure that last drink was a great idea.” 

You rest your head on her sternum, sapphire eyes looking down at you as her hand finds home on your waist, the blunt of your nails scratching softly at her stomach. 

“They always seem like a great idea at the time, don’t they?” With a gentle hand, you caress her scarred cheek, the pad of your thumb gently tenderly kissing the freckled skin. Outlining the softness of her jaw with your left, while your right one refuses to leave her stomach. 

“I don’t see how anyone would ever want to leave you.” Abby hums, not giving you much to go off of, tight lipped as she’s always been. The Nora situation has always been on your mind. One day, Abby’s speaking of her like she’s the love of her life and the next? Abby stiffens so tight when you bring up her name you promise yourself to never speak of it again. Until now, almost two years later, you’re more curious than you have ever been. The fatal ending, not belonging to you, but still you paw for the answers with your greedy palms. 

“You can just ask me if you want to know. I can see the look in your eyes.” 

“What look? I don’t have a—” 

Abby tilts your chin with your palm, leaning into her touch as you often do. 

“Yes, you do.” 

“How do you know this look?” 

“Hm.” Her thumb pulls at your bottom lip, “You’re just trying to get me in trouble now.” 

Your tone shifts, your eyes become transcendent, more crystal clear than they’d been all night. 

“What happened between you and Nora?” You ask, treading lightly on the ground you’re skating upon, in fear the ground beneath you might just crack if you apply too much pressure. 

“Why is it so important to you?” 

“It’s not that it’s—” You face plant into her chest, giving yourself a moment to breathe. Fuck, even her chest smells good. 

“You don’t ask about anything unless it’s of value to anyone. You don’t waste time, you’re very adamant about it. Painfully so.” Blonde eyebrows relax as she closes her eyes for a moment, but her touch on you soothes you. It’s gentle; a somber comfort bleeding into blissful joy. 

“But I’ve spent a lot of time with you.” 

“Yes, you’ve spent a lot of your time with me.

Abby opens her eyes to see you, your head tilted to the right, as you look upon each carve of her angelic face, the one that could only be carved by the gods above, resembling an angel on earth. As pure as the snow with the biggest heart of gold you ever have had the pleasure of knowing. 

“What?” 

“I didn’t say a thing.” You smile slyly. 

“We didn’t break up because of you, if that’s what you’re asking.” Abby sighs, “You’re not some homewrecker. My home with Nora was already wrecked before we met.” 

“Are you just saying it to make me feel better?” 

“No, I’m not.” You play with the ends of her golden hair, it hurts to be this close to what you want but knowing it’s so clearly out of your reach, league even, all of it will end the same. “Nora wasn’t fond of her being my first relationship with a woman. It caused a ripple effect, me feeling like I wasn’t good enough and her feeling like she has to carry me in the relationship, emotionally anyway.” 

“Is that why you broke up?” 

“No.” 

“It was because of me.” You state, as a matter of fact, knowing there is no other truth to be known. With tears welling up in your eyes, an ache  in your heart, one that made you ache all over. The dread of the guilt weighing heavily on your heart, time and distance still isn’t enough for you to run from it. 

“It was a job that was a great opportunity. Alright? It wasn’t you, even if I hadn’t, we both wanted different things. I didn’t even realize it until after but I wasn’t happy. I promise, it has nothing to do with you.” 

What Abby didn’t know, you needed to hear her say those words. In the back of your head, a monstrous demon unleashes in your mind, telling you crashed her relationship. You were the problem and her inevitable doom, but she’s assuring you it wasn’t the case. 

“We hardly knew each other back then.” 

As pathetic as it sounds, Abby can’t imagine her life without you. 

“Yeah hardly.” 

There’s that look again, pouring into Abby’s soul as it eats her up whole, the gleam in your eyes begging for more. It’ll complicate things if Abby gets involved, she knows this, but it already seems like she is despite her best efforts not to be. 

“Did I do good? You always say you miss stargazing with your brother back home. I know it’s not as quiet as the cabin you have, but I thought it would be okay for now.” 

“The view isn’t bad, not one bit.” She admits as she lets you rub her abdomen, the goosebumps crawling upon her skin the more Abby lets you touch her as if she’s yours to hold. “Lev would like it. I’m convinced the kid likes you more than me now.” 

“As he should. I’m pretty damn amazing.” 

“He asks too many questions though.” 

“About what?” 

“I dunno…..things.” Abby retreats back into her shell, the layer of protection she uses to protect herself from getting hurt. Most of all, out of everyone the gods could torture her to be confused about, of course it has to be you. Everyone in your life is always begging for pieces of your time, pieces of your affection and bits of your time to suck you dry. Abby has always wondered how you juggle it all. It feels cruel to even think you would put her in the mix. 

Painfully, there’s nights like tonight, where she sees the desire swarming in your eyes — every part of her pleads to give in to the temptation. Give into something she’s never even let herself think about until the last few months. As thick as drywall, there was a barrier keeping her heart from you, one she kept to protect you and herself even. 

The absolute last thing she wanted was to wreck everything this has to offer. If she makes the wrong move, all of it can come crashing down on you…it’s the last thing she wants. Make you a martyr in her story, one she thinks and dreams of often but knows you’re too big for her to exist in your life. The circles you run in don’t even exist in the same planet, the same fucking universe if Abby’s being honest. 

“What things?” You pout, your hand traveling south, caressing her thigh with a familiarity Abby wishes you didn’t have. She wishes for a lot but they never come true, that’s all you can be, a dying wish Abby curses upon a fading star.  

“It’s just stupid shit, not worth mentioning.” 

“Abby…” 

“Yeah?” 

“I—” You take a deep breath, your voice already shaky and you haven’t even told her yet. “I don’t think you even know how much you mean to me.” Abby isn’t sure where you’re going with this, terrifying her instantly. 

Have you finally had your fill of her? Were you gonna fire her? Now? 

“Lev doesn’t just talk to you about us.” 

“Us?” Nervously, Abby stomach clenches, unprepared for where this conversation is heading. 

“Why are you so scared?” 

Abby visibly and loudly gulps, almost making you giggle slightly. 

“I-I’m not.” 

The stonewall she attempts to hide behind but you won’t let her, not tonight. Slumping in the shadows, waiting for you to find someone else to love as she watches your happiness from a far, that’s what she allows herself. Nothing more and nothing less. 

“Abs, look at me.” She meets your eyes, away from the constellations in the sky, afraid if she looks for a moment too long she’ll be stuck here forever. “Talk to me, m’right here, not going anywhere unless you want me to.” 

Instantly, Abby grips your hips, keeping you in your place. 

“No, that’s not—” 

“What?” 

“I’m not what you want. I’m surely not what anyone needs. Hell, I’ve only been with one woman which is deemed to be for not being enough, right? I’m the girl who came out too late, who doesn’t have enough experience but because I’m built like some fucking adonis I need to know whatever the fuck I’m doing but I don’t. I never know what I’m doing. The only thing I know how to do is protect you, that’s all I’m good for and I’m not gonna screw that up just because I—” 

“Because what?” Your pelvis is on top of hers, your face coming closer to Abby’s, watching as you are irrevocably close to her, closer than you’ve ever been, wet lips ghosting over her pouty pink lips. Abby doesn’t even know when you moved, how you got so close, too lost in her own head to register your movements. 

“It doesn’t matter.” Abby puffs out. 

“It matters to me.” You sink into her, further, if it's even possible. “No one matters more than you, alright?” 

“But there’s people.” Abby looks for an excuse to get up, she comes up enough so she’s sitting up against the armrest of the patio couch, holding your lower back as she does so, leaving you straddling her hips. 

“I don’t care. All that matters is you.” You push a piece of blonde hair away, seeing her beautiful cheeks more clearly, her shining blue eyes finding its unique path to your heart, the one especially made for her. “Here just let me talk, alright? You don’t have to say anything. Just listen.” 

Abby is nearly crying, practically purring as you run your fingers through her cascading blonde hair. It’s too much but not enough. Although she is sure of one thing, the one thing she wants more than anything. 

“I’ve always been one for pretty girls. I had a reputation around Hollywood, always chasing one after the next, never reaching my fill or as the tabloids like to say.” You chuckled half-heartedly; the wound cutting deeper than you would have liked. “My publicist having to pay paparazzi an obscene amount of money to get these photos from ever hitting online, month after month, it was pathetic really. Just trying to fill a hole, one I didn’t even know how to fill.” 

“I didn’t know that.” 

“It’s not something I’m proud of and I never wanted you to see me differently but I’m not ashamed anymore though. I’m not that person anymore. I haven’t been since I met you.” Abby falls silent, her cheeks turning crimson before she can try to hide it “You not knowing how I was, it's just the humbling I needed. Not to mention you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen— you still are— but you had a girlfriend so I kept my feelings silent. Something just felt different with you and then you were single and I was afraid of you.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I didn’t want to ruin you so I made a promise to myself. I would never start anything with you, not unless I was in love with you.” 

“You love me?” 

“It’s impossible not to.” You sigh into her, forehead pressed against hers, her strong hold not letting go. “You don’t have to say anything or do anything. I don’t expect anything in return. I just can’t live in a world where you think because you’re not experienced as some, you think you’re less than people who are.” 

“It’s true, I’m not there with everyone else and it shows.” 

“Abby, you’re not getting it.” 

“Well, no shit. I’m not good enough for any of this, you especially.” 

“It’s not…” You bite your lip as you reach for her hands on your waist, intertwining them with your own. “Abs, it would’ve saved me a lot of trouble.” Your lips ghost over her lips again, but this time Abby inches closer, her breath warm as it hits your mouth. 

“What?” 

“If I was a patient person and waited for you.” 

More than before, Abby’s breath is heavy as the rise and fall of her chest is rapid, trying to calm herself down but it’s impossible when you’re this close. It’s a lot for her, maybe she’s overly sensitive, but your touch is practically lighting her on fire. Abby wonders if it will ever be able to be put out or if your magnetic touch will leave her scorned. 

Puppy eyes inwardly pleading for an ounce of your touch, so sweet as she supports your weight with her strong thighs, anchoring you to her — never quite letting go. A single glance detrimental to the layer of protection she built around herself. 

“There’s no more waiting, m’right here.” Abby closes the gap indefinitely, lips connecting with yours as they move in perfect harmony, as if this is what she was made for. Involuntarily, she whimpers in your mouth as you gently tug at her bottom nibble at her bottom lip, your tongue sliding in as it dominates her own. It happens too quickly — the way her very being melts into you. 

Like honey to a bee, there’s nothing that’s ever been so sweet. 

This is all you need. 

“Abby?” 

“Yeah, angel?” 

“Let’s get out of here.”

taglist: @brackishkittie @only4theweeknd @tlouloser @marvelwomenarehot0 @grey-jedi12 @r3starttt @bittersu1te @pxgeturner @maxinephobia @marsworldd @aouiaa @twopeoplee @i-lov3-w0men @lvlymicha @half-of-a-gay @pa-co @rkivedpages @abbyspup @lucidfairies @lizzygrant @yourfriendlyneighborhoodeden @iluvme9 @skzhoiic @angelynn-nicole @hearts4joongie @moonyvs4 @loveyru @imdrowningindispair @random-fag @swinesb @spacewlf

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

An idea I have that’s itching my brain. Ex-husband!price, second chance trope? Strangely into this recently

Ex-husband!price who can’t help but call you every time he gets back from a mission and you who can’t help but pick up.

You’ve been divorced for a little over a year now. It wasn’t necessarily on bad terms but the relationship just couldn’t work anymore; with him constantly gone it felt as though he was more of a roommate, a stranger, than the man you loved.

You couldn’t take the loneliness and Price only ever wanted to make you happy, so he agreed to the divorce with the same amount of courage he had going into a mission.

“John?” You asked, answering the call after the third to make it seem like you weren’t waiting for him.

“Hey,” Price smiled immediately when he heard your voice. “I made it home.”

“Good. You’re not hurt are you?”

Price could feel the ache and throb on his body from the mission, especially on his side where he had hit the ground hard because of an explosion. A large bruise had already formed but he ignored it like every problem he had concerning himself.

Just like he had ignored you.

“I’m alright.” He sucked in his lips and cleared his throat. “Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

You really shouldn’t. It’s not like you ended on bad terms necessarily, but you had never known someone to stay friends with their ex-husband before. You knew that these kind of talks might send the wrong message.

It might make one of you believe that there was hope for reconciliation.

“Oh…nothing much.” You kept it vague to deter further conversation and you hoped he didn’t take it the wrong way.

Price didn’t, at least that’s what he told himself even though he felt a pang in his chest while his throat tightened.

He shouldn’t call you anymore even if he missed your voice. Every call was like he was torturing himself, making himself remember what he lost because he couldn’t get his own head out of his ass.

He would’ve stopped after the first call if you hadn’t picked up.

“I just wanted to let you I was home.” He mumbled and you felt incredibly grateful that he wanted to do that.

You may be divorced but you still feared the day one of his men would come to tell you he was no longer alive.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, love.”

It slipped out but neither of you said anything. You both sat in silence, drinking up the presence of each other from the other side of the phone, across cities.

There were so many mixed feelings, all of which neither of you had the words to describe them.

“Goodbye, John.”

“Goodbye.”

When you were gone Price sat in the edge of his bed in the dark. The bed he once shared with you often went untouched, even by him as he couldn’t stand to lay in it alone, even if the mattress was better for his body.

His fingers played with the golden band chained around his neck subconsciously since he was unable to get rid of it.

A/n: take whatever this is lol won’t be a series but might have like a couple other little pieces

[ybklix]

𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧

╰┈➤ part 2 / part one / part three

★ pairing: ceo!leeminho x fem!reader

✦summary: After that unexpected and magnetic encounter, Minho can't get you out of his head and he’s slowly going insane wondering if you’ve been with other men.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / dom!possesive minho / slight bondage / use of sex toys / public fingering / unprotected sex, creampie / sugar daddy

word count: 11.5k

(masterlist)

a/n: ty for reading! my next one shot is ab chan🙂‍↕️

That day for you was more unusual than the previous one, you sat up confused and somewhat hurt when you heard his tone. You rubbed your face trying to wake up completely then you saw clothes spread out on the end of the big bed. Confused, at least you thought he had the dignity to let you go with other clothes and not in an embarrassing way with the previous night's clothes full of sex.

Carefully you removed the big, high-padded sheet from you and, still naked you walked around to get a better look at the garments, Jacquemus black mini skirt, a nice simple blouse with crystal detailing around the neck by Miu Miu, classic Prada loafers and new white underwear. You thought the choice of outfit was somewhat questionable but you still recognized high fashion brands, you were about to put on your clothes until you got a little surprised when you heard the bedroom door open, it was Minho who didn't flinch at seeing you standing naked and, with half of his body peeking out suggested to you in a soft tone:

“You can take a shower if you want.” he gave you a very small smile and walked out.

You weren't sure how to feel and wanted to get out of there quickly, so you cautiously looked around for the door leading to the bathroom, which you had used the night before. You looked at yourself for a few seconds in the mirror realizing that you hadn't checked the time on your phone and embarrassment consumed you as you thought it was late. You also realized you were still wearing those cute earrings so you took them off with the silly little idea of not being able to get them wet, leaving them on the sink counter.

The warm water felt so good on your body and you tried not to focus on anything else. You just had an exquisite night of sex that made you even shiver and weaken, you had never felt anything so extremely strong, nor had you ever cum with such intensity before, no doubt Lee Minho knew how to take care of you and at least you would come out of there with nothing but a pleasant and strange experience… and wearing Prada shoes.

You did your best to be quick and doable, grooming yourself with ease and finally grabbing your phone to get out of there, it was only a few minutes past 10 a.m. You tried to remember the way you were dragged from the entrance to Minho's room, ending up in a point of the house where you didn't remember being a few hours ago, just late at night you were only deeply focused on the lips of the owner of the house, frustrated you released air from your cheeks until you heard a slight noise and practically ran towards it, arriving, in the incredible maze that mansion seemed, to the kitchen where attractively by the counter was Minho sitting, drinking from his cup of coffee and concentrating reading news on his phone.

You caught Minho's attention instantly as he sensed your presence and looked you up and down, approving of how well you looked in everything he ordered to be bought for you. What started with a sweet look at the sight of your still wet hair, ended with him enjoying the sight of your smooth bare legs, intensifying his gaze, making you feel a little intimidated. But of course he would make sure that everything is made to your measure; after having had a magnificent sex and resting your agitated bodies the necessary, once you came back from the bathroom, sorry and with your cheeks tinted in pink, Minho suggested in a strangely tender tone for him “sleep here, it's late, I'll go to the guest room”.

At that moment you wanted to melt, you hadn't heard such a peaceful tone in him during all your journey together and, impulsively you wanted to beg him to stay with you, but nothing came out of your mouth. He watched you sleep for a moment, breathing so calm and confident in his presence, which did in him, awaken a feeling that had left his body years ago. Minho finally slipped away and being alone, without thinking clearly about his actions since he was trapped by the emotion of the return of that strange feeling, he hurried to check Hyunjin's messages that he had ignored so much, in his chat section, where there were screenshots of all your information in that app, at first he was annoyed by the fact that you were in that kind of site, then he took care to study every detail of you. Weight, size, measurements, your birthday two days before his, your young age, your photos… At dawn he quickly ordered them to get you new clothes no matter that most of the stores were closed as it was Sunday, somehow or other they had to get them for you. All this until, seeing you wake up brought him back to reality and he discovered himself acting senselessly for a girl, or what he thought for an instant, a prostitute who slept with him for money; so he shielded himself with his coldness and temper, convincing himself that everything previously planned had been simply polite, and it wasn't because he suddenly cared about you.

You stood for meters away from him, not quite sure what your next move should be, to which he was quick to say:

“Come, eat your lunch.”

You looked at him puzzled, he really was bipolar, you thought, minutes ago he practically ran you off and now he was inviting you to eat.

“Mm, I guess I should-” you tried to wriggle out.

“Eat.” he said abruptly dropping his gentle voice.

That took you by surprise and you noticed the plate of food next to him, you walked over, rounding the counter and sitting uncomfortably next to him. Without saying anything you began to eat, wondering to yourself if you would be able to get out of there soon as he seemed to be holding you back. Still you enjoyed the tasty omelette of your lunch, you wanted to talk but didn't know what to talk about, you didn't really know him and doubted that he was interested in listening to you; however for him, it was more than obvious that he was interested, from the simple detail that he cared about you eating, however he didn't have the courage to accept it to begin with. Minho felt the tension, not sexual, just an incredible invisible pressure on your bodies, he felt nervous to have you around and every now and then he would watch you eating, out of the corner of his eye, tenderly as he pretended to be reading an article on his phone.

Once you finished you realized that he was the one who had run out of words so you jumped out of that high chair, making noise as you stepped on the floor. Minho stared at you.

“I have to go” you said this time, “thank you”.

Minho looked at you confused for a second, wondering to himself if that thank you was the food, the clothes, the fuck or the whole general. You understood, but you didn't want to explain further. Just thank you, and goodbye. Minho didn't want to say goodbye to you like that, he hesitated long enough if he should take you by the waist and kiss you passionately, and even make you his again before leaving his house, after all it wasn't in the initial plan to meet his house, Hyunjin had planned the fuck at his hotel; but all his thoughts were in vain since, you were on the other side of the counter, away from him. Minho wondered for a moment if in order to do everything he thought he had to pay you first, he would do it without hesitation, but he really didn't know the way you worked… or just the way you were. It bothered him so much that you were that kind of girl, just like it pissed him off that you made him hesitate in seconds when he always categorized himself as someone confident.

You picked up your purse that was on the corner of the table next to a medium sized box.

“The box too, it's your dress and shoes” he added trying to sound nonchalantly.

Minho stood up from his seat and led the way out, watching you sway your hips one last time, until you walked straight out towards the big black polarized windows van.

You noticed the driver gave you a naughty look as he deduced that it was a simple wild night as he was the one driving you home and not Lee Minho himself. Minho thought that dropping you home would be too much, although he was dying of curiosity to know where you live and what you did in your free time, he just refused to take him any further. The driver was surprised to ask you where you were going, as it was clearly somewhere less luxurious.

You admired that home one last time, feeling that somehow it would not be the last time you would see it; something in you wanted to believe it.

On the way home you finally had the realization that you had had a great night and that, in a way, you had behaved like a real whore by fucking Felix days ago and then suddenly doing it with another man.

When you got home the only thing out of place was you and your expensive clothes. As was the incredibly high amount in your bank account.

You didn't want to worry anymore thinking about how bad you felt about Felix, it wasn't like you were sure you would see Minho again, but now you questioned if you really saw yourself in a relationship with your friend. So you laid back on your bed and ignored his messages. You were ready to delete that app and deactivate your account which, a day before the encounter Hari set up on your phone and taught you how to use it until you received a message notification from that app, it was Hyunjin, asking without further ado if you had fucked Minho.

On the other hand, Minho tried to distract himself on a non-working Sunday, but he couldn't relax. When the driver arrived, he asked him for your exact address, causing Minho satisfaction to know your location, then he locked himself in his office to work and during the afternoon, after sunset he proposed to watch a movie, but he found it so boring to do it alone… after a long time, for the first time, he missed someone's company. He asked himself what your favorite movie would be.

As he went upstairs to sleep he saw the sheets still impregnated in the scent of the two of you in your night of passion, seeing your image once again in his mind; he let out slightly exasperated air for several reasons, one of them being that he had to make his bed by himself with clean sheets because the clean lady would be coming tomorrow. And another reason for his frustration was the fact that he couldn't think of you being touched and satisfied by another man. And, as she entered the bathroom, his last sign of hope, your diamond earrings over his sink. Minho picked it up and watched carefully, delusionally believing there were only three options as to why that jewelry was there: you genuinely forgot them, you thought he hadn't really given them to you, or you had left them there on purpose to create the perfect excuse to see each other again. Minho questioned whether he should make that happen, a second meeting.

[...]

You had avoided Felix all day during college until in the afternoon you received a text from him that sent chills down your spine, «why didn't you tell me you quit your job? did something happen?». You had to read it twice, surprised that he had to look you up at work. You felt terrible, you couldn't ignore it.

You replied that he doesn’t need worry, you were fine, he offered to let you stay in his apartment but you quickly declined, writing him that you are still fine in your apartment and that you are just studying a script that you would like to talk about later. You weren't good at avoiding Felix, you loved telling him the smallest detail of your life but… you felt that what you had done wasn't so small after all, much less something he would like to hear. However for your best girl friend it was the opposite, she wanted every detail of your night with Minho and your opinion about that very secret job. You couldn't say anything other than, it was fine. You were still processing it and didn't feel comfortable talking about it, but Hari understood.

That same Monday morning, now at Lee Minho's company, he found himself thinking about his love life, on his way to his office, he looked at his secretary and a couple of other women who worked for him… wondering to himself why not them, why not simple women with a normal job, one of them, who Minho knew they were dying for him… but no, he had chosen you as the woman who would not leave his deepest and craziest thoughts. It seemed absurd to him that only one night was enough for him —although he couldn't really classify himself as satisfied with you, he needed more—; but the only information he had about you were those data sent by Hyunjin and the exhaustive search of your social media, as well as your public profile of all your works and small jobs where you were attributed as an actress. Minho noticed the infinity of small projects you had been part of, you seemed to work non-stop. After a few moments he stared at the icon of that app on his screen, app just installed, he wanted to know if your profile was still active and if you were going to continue doing what you did with him, but with other men, that was making him uneasy, also thinking that before him there were a couple of others. He was really considering whether to make an account and see it with his own eyes since, Hyunjin could not give him more details, much less dare to ask him and, when Minho was determined to create an account, two light knocks on his door stopped him, showing in it just the man he was thinking about.

“Come in” he shouted.

His secretary opened the door, peeking out her body.

“It's Mr. Hwang Hyunjin that if you can…”

“Send him in” he interrupted her before she could finish.

Minho thought why not just his secretary, she was pretty, two years younger than him and worked for him since 5 years ago and since she knew the breakup between Minho and Soyul publicly, his worker was in charge of giving him small details on Minho's birthday and Christmas. But he couldn't think of anything else but your overwhelming and exquisite perfume that he smelled near your neck when his chest was touching your naked back while he was touching you and making you his without mercy.

Hyunjin smiled broadly at the sight of his friend sitting behind his desk; he didn't get to see him on Sunday as he was taking care of his next gallery in another city and settling a couple of things left over from the night before at his big gala on Saturday, plus he and Minho weren't the types of men to use their phones to communicate, they needed to see each other to speak to each other.

“How was it?” said Hyunjin amused.

Minho frowned and pretended not to know what he was talking about.

“What brings you here?” replied Minho disinterestedly.

Hyunjin ran his tongue around the inside of his mouth amused letting out a chuckle. And sat down in the chair at the front of his desk.

“You know, Minho…? I noticed something different about you, even your eyes look brighter. I told you what exactly you needed.”

Minho shifted in his seat, defensive to what his friend implied, so once again his impulses took over as a defense mechanism.

“My eyes brighter? For having sex with a hooker? It's not like I was eighteen and just lost my virginity looking for more sex.”

Hyunjin smiled wider.

“So you did fuck, tell me all about it, don't omit any part” Hyunjin exclaimed excitedly wanting to hear it from his older friend since, you had confirmed it to him since Sunday.

Minho thought of you and was infuriated by the fact that he had to refer to you with such a derogatory term. And that every time he talked about you, something horrible had to come out of his mouth. He had to end that once and for all. He thought of you too just now, the softness of your skin, your wet, sweet and tight cunt wrapping around his hard cock so well.

“It was fine” he replied curtly and cleared his throat trying to clear the sudden dirty thoughts of you.

“Just fine?” Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, hoping for more.

Minho let out a chuckle.

“The newly hormonal deflowered kid looks like someone else. I don't tell my sexual encounters anymore, I'm too old for that.”

“You stopped doing it unless you're in a relationship, are you even in a relationship with her now…?” Hyunjin couldn't wait for a response to the prompt wordness he blurted out and only expressed, “God, y/n looked beautiful that night, I bet she was excellent, I envy you.”

And suddenly something sparked a reaction in Minho, the heated and fun conversation turned serious for him.

“Do you know her name?”

Hyunjin was silent for a second.

“Yes, she told me.”

Minho said nothing. He knew your name too but he didn't think you would go around revealing your identity so easily in this kind of situation.

“Don't play hard to get, I wouldn't just call her a prostitute, but a high class escort, seriously it was a high price since she had apparently joined recently, there was a lot fighting over her. Plus she looked stunning in that Versace” said Hyunjin more relaxed.

But that only made Minho more tense, he wanted him to stop complimenting you, to know the exact amount, how recently you had joined that service… but he found it totally indecent to ask the man who only paid heartlessly. He wanted to talk to you, to hear your point of view.

“But hey, we can finally move on once you finally had sex. I have a normal girl for you available, remember Kim Minjeong from school?”

“Kim Min Jeong” stammered Minho without paying attention.

“Her younger sister, Minkyung just came back from studying abroad, she's 24, she's incorporating in the city again and she's amazing, she really grew up. Rest assured she's totally free from knowing the drama between you and you-know-who. Plus girls love a sad, tormented guy like you who wasn't to blame for the infidelity.”

Hyunjin noticed his distracted friend's serious expression, frowned with a small grimace and decided to play a little.

“Don't tell me you fell in love with y/n, I knew you fell fast but I didn't believe you that fast” he commented jokingly.

Minho raised his gaze and locked his gaze on the Hyunjin…. Minho wouldn't exactly call it being in love, he couldn't accept the term, he didn't even know you, just for the moment you lived in his head all the time and it was getting on his nerves and he wants to refute if he just needs to see you to cease the feeling. What Hyunjin jokingly mentioned, became serious to him once he deciphered the silence in the room so he hurried to say.

“I don't judge you. You see, Chan with that girl, he just bought her an apartment and…”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” replied Minho annoyedly hinting that he actually had feelings for you.

He couldn't feel anything —or so he thought— he just wanted to see you again and fuck you hard. Use you for his pleasure over and over again. But he thought it was necessary to get to know the person he would be inserting his penis inside a bit first, it wasn't like he was interested in you beyond sex —or at least he thought that—, he was just curious. But Hyunjin knew Minho was just tricking himself.

“If you want to see her again go ahead, twice is better than once. I promise not to touch her.”

“Of course you never will” Minho sentenced tensely, piercing his gaze with Hyunjin's.

Hyunjin knew instantly that Minho was in that denial phase and that, he was starting to doubt every feeling and emotion that his body emitted and Hyunjin understood it perfectly, after he was betrayed like that, he knew it was hard for Minho to open up again.

“Have you been with other girls from there?” added Minho more calmly once he realized he was being intense.

Hyunjin smiled sideways.

“No, I've only done sexting when I'm bored. No one would convince me until I saw y/n, so perfect not to see her in person; maybe she's worth it” encouraged Minho. “She's pretty, about to graduate from a good college, looks decent and nice.”

Minho wondered if you were worth it. That day once Hyunjin left his office, Minho concentrated on working and it wasn't until late that he remembered again that he'd go home alone and convinced himself to do so, to see you again since he was stressed and was a man with a heavy load every day, so you could help him with that. Minho finally tried to create a profile for himself, he spent minutes stressing sitting behind his desk waiting for his ID to verify until he could finally proceed, he was a little embarrassed about the process of posting pictures of himself and once he had everything ready he quickly looked you up, hoping that you had deleted your account, but at the same time to have a means in which to contact you. And to his greatest response, there you were; your face in some pretty selfies, a couple of others posing outside a club with a radiant smile, he scrolled down looking at all your information until he got to the bottom of your profile with blurred picture and a padlock on it with the description 'For more private content from Cheryl'. Minho blinked naively and tapped the screen, leading him to put in his bank card details and the description 'You will be charged ₩ 10 million when you unlock this feature'. Minho didn't even take 10 seconds as his data were on his phone and quickly unlocked that which he was curious about, he wished he had never done it, it was about pictures of your glorious semi naked body, a body he had touched days ago and was thirsty for more. He looked deeply and in detail at every photo, every angle and noticed that someone else had taken them, but who? He took his time analyzing them and the more he looked at them the more he was furious and clenched his left fist until he exited the app and locked his phone abruptly. He was annoyed and mildly aroused, and that could only be summed up in that he wanted to have you right now on his lap, fucking you furiously to remind you that no other pathetic man in that app could be better than him, make you come and scream better than him. He needed you now.

Minho impulsively opened the app again and offered a huge amount for you, quickly and without thinking he went to your private chat and simply typed «Accept me».

That evening you were relaxing on your couch watching TV, feeling bad because you missed Felix a little, hearing his deep voice saying anything and going out to eat together anywhere he had seen recommendations or trending on the internet.

You received a notification from your bank app and thought it would be another deposit for which you were grateful, you decided not to accept for the moment any other proposal and you would survive for a while with the money from the unlocking of your photos, although there was no regular number of income, and that frustrated you. By inertia you decided to browse a little in the app and saw something that stopped your heart for a second, a message from Lee Minho, you opened it quickly, you didn't believe it was Minho himself, he wasn't the type to be on apps like this, but there it was, his picture. You smiled without realizing it when you saw the small picture in the icon next to the message bubble, in which it said «Accept me». Your smile slowly faded and confused you were about to reply «what?» to him, until he saw that you had seen his message and quickly wrote «Or you need double». You quickly understood and checked your notifications, there it was: Lee Minho offered ₩ 900 million for a meeting. You opened your mouth in surprise, then remembered that he had said if you needed double which offended you that he had put 'need', you accepted it without thinking, impulsively.

You went back to his chat and were about to ask him what exactly he wanted to which he replied with the default message of clarifications: Hwang Palace, of Gangnam tomorrow at 7 o'clock at the restaurant in the Monet section. I need to talk to you.

You let out a sigh, having no idea why he would want to talk to you, besides you were a little hurt that he would have to pay to do so, you would have agreed to talk to him like any normal person with no money involved, sadly you thought he might never see you as anything other than... a woman who has to be paid for her service; you had no other choice, you thought that you had earned that reputation, even if you were just a little bit grateful for this unusual job already, if it wasn't for it you would have never met Minho or gone to an incredible and beautiful event like the one on Saturday…. well maybe it is possible for you to live that experience if you go out with Felix, but that hectic night no one else could have given it to you. A little annoyed you clicked on his picture icon showing his profile, you almost sighed again, seeing how gorgeous he looks, a mirror selfie, wearing a black button up shirt, looking disinterestedly down at the device. You looked at his details, CEO of Sweet Factory, a globally known snacks brand you usually bought at some convenience stores, you had no idea it was his, his birthday, two days after yours, yet he was older than you by almost 10 years, his blood type and even his MBTI, you lowkey had skipped that question. Suddenly you reacted, you were going to see him again tomorrow, your heart was racing.

[…]

The next day you made use of that money and bought a strapped pale yellow thigh-length sequin-detailed dress from 16Arlington, with a square neckline; you spent the day shopping for the perfect complement to your outfit and rushed home to get ready.

Two hours before your meeting, Minho texted you again, asking if you wanted him to pick you up; to which you said yes. Now you were twice as nervous and anxious.

Minho arrived half an hour earlier than planned due to his reservation, you were unsure about giving him your address but you still did it, you wanted to act as normal as possible and not like he had to pay to get the best of you, a nice attitude and appearance.

You got into his car, he had his left arm relaxed and holding the steering wheel, he swept his eyes over you and a smile came across his face seeing you looking so cute and dolled up for him.

“Hello, again” you mumbled shyly.

Minho kept looking at you with a smile and started his car. The drive was not uncomfortable despite being silent, you saw his profile side from time to time and noticed how truly attractive he looked, his strong and sharp nose, his round eyes showing with his elongated eyelashes, his upper lip finely bigger than the lower one and his marked jaw, you could watch him for hours.

He was dressed all in black, with his button down shirt tight to his body and the sleeves rolled up his arms, he was wearing tight jeans that showed off his thick and worked thighs so appetizing, you wanted to suddenly let out a gasp thinking how much you want to feel like sitting on his lap. Minho knew you were looking at him shamelessly and it almost made him blush.

He looked relaxed, but he wasn't, he had meticulously practiced every word he would say to you tonight. He was slyly looking at you all of a sudden and couldn't contain his excitement.

You arrived at the same place where it all started, Hyunjin's hotel, this time heading towards the restaurant where Minho mentioned the reservation on your behalf and soon you were guided to the place, entering a beautifully lit place, inspired by Claude Monet's paintings. You walked behind Minho the whole time and when you reached his table you bit your lip nervously before sitting down. You wanted to build confidence so you looked him straight in the eyes and he quickly caught your gaze too; you said:

“If you wanted to invite me to dinner you should have done it like any normal person.”

Minho tried to act cool so as not to raise suspicion of his nervousness, he looked at you without interest and raised an eyebrow.

“Normal?”

“You were able to look up my Instagram and ask me without... having to pay me” you whispered the last sentence.

“You don't want the money?” he replied curtly as he lowered his gaze to the menu.

You didn't know what to answer, but before he could assume an answer you rushed to tell him.

“I can give it back to you.”

Minho let out a chuckle and raised his gaze again to you.

“I don't care, you can keep it. Just like… something you forgot at my place.”

You frowned and Minho reached into his pants pocket, leaving the pair of earrings he'd bought you on Saturday on the table, you'd forgotten all about it.

“Agh, the old excuse of forgetting something at the other person's house so I'd be forced to return it to you and have to see you.” Minho smiled, playfully, “They're yours, keep them.”

You smiled shyly and took them, putting them away in your bag, you wanted to argue that you had genuinely forgotten them, but seeing Minho this proud made you feel somehow happy, he looked cute with his sideways smile and bright gaze.

“You planned all this just to return me a pair of earrings?” you played along.

“They're real diamonds, sweetie.”

Then Minho stared at you, from your groomed hair to the perfect slit in your chest, it became serious for him, he had to say what he had to say.

“I want you to delete your account on that app and work for me” Minho suddenly blurted out, you manifested confusion on your face, not sure what he was referring to, so he continued, “… as my personal assistant. You will have to follow me everywhere and be with me all the time.” he said, in a funny and proud way the last sentence.

You were still speechless, you didn't know where that was suddenly coming from, to which Minho continued.

“I'll pay you well, more well than you can earn doing that, plus it's a decent job.” he proposed, practically begging.

“Why?” was all you could articulate.

“Because I want you to quit…”

You pinned your gaze on his big eyes that were shining brighter than usual.

“Why should I work for you.”

“Why would you want to be doing the other thing for money anyway?” he replied submissively, on a pretty and pity look of his you never saw before.

You blinked suddenly, formulating the right words.

“I mean, why would I work for you if I don't know you… I don't know what you do…”

“You didn't see my information in my account?” he replied now in a funny tone, “I know you're not related to companies so I won't make you do that. Think about it. I'll leave you my number, I know you're still in college, tell me your schedule.”

You released a soft laugh, suddenly not believing what he just said.

“What’s so funny?” he said serious. “I never joke about work.”

You nodded, trying to decipher every hidden message he wanted to give you.

“What are you going to order?” he smiled at you.

[…]

“He wants you so bad.” said Hari from the other line of the call.

“I was so confused the whole time, I'm afraid he just wants to you know, fuck me.”

“So? I thought you loved sex with him.”

“Yeah… it's just that it won't be far from reality, he'll pay me to fuck him.”

“What? Why the sudden embarrassment about expressing your sexuality? He'll pay you normally for working with him, the sex will add a special touch. So, will you take him up on his offer?”

“I don't know, Hari…”

“Doesn't it turn you on that he's an older man with experience and money crazy about you? Because it works on me with Chan all the time. it's so funny, they're so needy, you'll have him wrapping around you finger soon.”

You had really loved every part of having sex with Minho, but you were in doubt whether you would feel bad about taking the offer. But today had been dreamy, he was a gentleman with you, asked about you, looking interested and dropped you off at your place without even touching a hair on your head and looking at you with lust.

Then you got home, after a nice dinner with Minho, you did the inevitable and deleted your account and existence from that server. You had a lovely night, you didn't think you could exchange more than two words with Minho, but he wasn't as cold and curt as he wanted to portray himself after all; this time he opened the door for you as you got in and out of his car. On the other hand Minho was so obsessed and on the lookout for you that he knew instantly when you deleted all your information, causing him to smile, after 5 minutes a message telling him that you could start in the afternoon.

[...]

When you woke up the next day, the first thing you saw was a new message from Lee Minho, depositing more money and telling you it was for you to start your new closet of elegant outfits. And so after a couple of classes you headed out to buy your first Chanel suits suitable for work.

And there you were, at 3 o'clock in the afternoon wearing a tweed style skirt and pale pink coat. You were feeling pretty and extremely nervous. Minho's secretary greeted you kindly and showed you what she could on you way to Minho's office up to the top floor of the building.

“The young lady is here.” his secretary informed Minho over the phone.

Minho smiled broadly and swiveled on his chair, ready to see you walk through his door. And there you were, looking as angelic as ever, you had taken his breath away, no doubt all those outfits were made for you no matter what, or what you were wearing you looked beautiful in his eyes, Chanel, Versace, Gucci or Prada, or naked in his arms, either way you stole Minho's breath away. You smiled shyly at him and walked towards him, Minho quickly stood up from his chair and moved dangerously close to you, bringing your bodies together, you raised your gaze to see his eyes better.

“Welcome to your first day of work,” he whispered sweetly, “they'll explain everything better outside and give you a tour.”

You looked into his eyes and then straight to his lips, you realized you hadn't kissed him in three days and you were dying to feel it. Minho liked to tease you, bringing his body closer, looking provocatively at you from above with a lascivious look, he couldn't wait to taste you. After he achieved his goal and saw your breathing getting heavy, he pulled away from you with a playful smile.

“Get to work.” he said to you.

You almost whimper not feeling his touch.

[...]

The rest of the working girls tried to socialize with you with the hidden intention of finding out who you were and why someone so young would work for Lee Minho as his assistant. You didn't know what to answer them, really your career was not related to her work environment but you thought that... being an actress who must build her way little by little, maybe in one of those jobs you could have been the assistant of a famous actress so you thought so to motivate yourself and not to think that you were only doing it because in a way your body and mind were asking you to be close to Minho and the opportunity had been opportune. You needed him.

You worked the rest of the day while his secretary told you what to do and what your job was from today, set up Minho's meeting times, set up meetings, etc. Occasionally when he would leave his office and return to it, he would see you tenderly concentrating with a frown trying to figure out whatever you were doing on the computer. It didn't take long for the rest of his employees to notice and the gossip began to detonate without you noticing. You still awkwardly hoped for some message from Minho, telling you whatever, but talking to you, you were frustrated and desperate, he never wrote you or addressed you, so in a way you were happy that it was a normal job and he treats you decently as an employee, but another part of you was so sad that he wouldn't talk to you to sneak into his office and fuck you hard, not even to give him a simple blowjob, you thought.

Your day was about to end, between work and the occasional flirtation with men, of whom you were not interested in the least, the man you wanted was now locked in his office and had total command and the highest position in the pyramid.

Everyone was starting to leave and you realized that you didn't discuss your departure time with Minho, so, almost hopping towards his office, you were going to see him to ask him; hoping that your presence in that room would escalate to something else quickly.

You knocked softly on his door until you heard a “Come in” in a fiery demanding tone. You quickly arranged your hair and skirt before entering, until you stepped through the door. You met a serious and concentrated Minho reading some sheets on his desk, you didn't want to interrupt him, but he realizing that someone opened the door and no one spoke, was about to complain annoyed and frustrated until he saw you and his face relaxed and lit up.

“What are you doing here?” he asked you softly.

“Everyone is leaving, I was wondering if I should…”

“What time is it?” sighed Minho frustratedly checking the watch on his wrist. “Agh,” he gasped in exasperation closing his eyes and dropping back in his chair, which you found extremely appealing, “I didn't notice the time.”

You swayed on your spot, still not receiving a response as you watched Minho try to recover, he looked tired, after all he worked more than 12 hours a day. So you slowly approached him, trying to hide your smile and, without him noticing your actions, as he was carving his face hard to be able to strip a little, you were already in front of him, with your butt leaning on his desk. Minho saw you with surprise as he noticed you were close by and cheekily watched your silhouette as he smiled sideways in satisfaction.

“You look stressed…” you said seductively leaning towards him and massaging his shoulders. Minho closed his eyes enjoying your touch, he really did need something like this. “Can I help you?”

Minho opened his eyes watching you piercingly and lustfully, you were starting to make him horny and there was no turning back.

“Will you do it? Will you work overtime?” he answered you with a deep voice and smile plastered on his face enjoying every second of your company.

“I'd do it for free” you approached him, brushing the tip of your nose with his. “Besides it's for the good of the company's head.”

He let out a chuckle as he watched your lips inches away. Minho finally grabbed you around the waist and made you sit roughly on his lap, bringing his lips together slowly, being careful in every detail of the kiss, even intensifying it by playing with his tongue in your mouth. At last, you were back crazy, you felt so wet in seconds, and one of your fantasies came true, you were sitting on his firm legs, whose worked muscle was not the only hard thing, you could feel his hard erection sticking to your ass and your sex throbbing in desperation as if she had a memory of her own remembering the sensation of Minho's big cock choking inside you.

You could only hear the sharp sound of your heaving breaths and your lips check in wet kisses, you were so turned on you could cum from just kissing him, Minho started slow and passionate and that soon rose to something more desperate and rough, you loved every bit of it. Breathlessly, you broke away from him without breaking eye contact, he loved seeing your innocent eyes full of desire. You were so exasperated to feel his hands on your body so you awkwardly and excitedly began to unbutton your coat, your heart was pounding and you felt every beat pounding in your ears and your eyes throbbing with excitement. Minho watched your movements, your fingers struggling against the buttons until finally opening it, revealing your bare chest and abdomen only wearing your bra. Minho bit his lips completely horny, however he didn't agree that you had nothing down below on.

“You were walking around like that, with nothing on underneath” he tried to scold you.

You smiled playfully at his angry reaction. If that was his reaction of you wearing a bra, let alone the tiny, provocative underwear you were wearing in case he wanted to fuck you, and he was about to. Although Minho wanted a great fuck, something to say how much he missed you… but the way you were teasing him and playing like a slut, so he thought, drove him crazy, he couldn't stand the thought of you walking around susceptible to catching the attention of other men.

“You'll get angrier taking my skirt off, then” you moved closer to his left ear muttering.

Minho let out an annoyed sigh, almost snorting, he wanted to take your ass and whip it until he made you cry and understand that you could not provoke anyone but him. As you slowly pulled away, brushing his cheeks you saw Minho's dark stern countenance, he was no longer smiling enjoying himself and playing. You thought he looked fucking good this upset, that he even scared you a little, you smiled in nervousness.

“Take that off” he ordered you, smacked looking down at your bra and jacket.

You obeyed him instantly and, you still saw the darkness of desire in his big brown eyes, but his expression was still serious, annoyed. Minho settled you, turning your body with agility, so that your back was pressed against his chest, pulled your hair back from your right side and positioned his head next to yours between the space of your neck and shoulders. He stroked your thighs with his right hand until he slipped his large hand inside your skirt and deftly searched your delicious crease line from your clitoris to your soaking wet entrance. Minho smiled softly feeling your body contract at his slightest touch to your pussy. On the other hand, his left hand and forearm held and squeezed your breasts tightly; having you completely overwhelmed and compressed to his body roughly.

Minho parted the thin fabric of your underwear with his fingers while with the rest he began to play energetically with your pussy, massaging in slow and delicate movements your weak spot making you tremble and producing more and more slippery and thick fluids sliding down your entrance, you were so ecstatic. And, to further increase your pleasure combined with torture, he took it upon himself to pinch your nipples and squeeze your breasts hard. Minho never took his caresses away from your clitoris taking you to the extreme and in surprise he started to fuck you with two of his long fingers quickly causing you to let out a little scream.

Every now and then you let your head lean back on your boss's shoulder giving you pleasure, your body was tense, every muscle in you felt stiff from the position you were in and the sudden pleasure you were getting. You were about to relax, let go and cum, but once Minho noticed, he abruptly released you and took your chin to look at him, leaving you no time to whine about your first missed orgasm.

“Suck my cock now” he commanded you fiercely almost pushing your head down.

You opened your mouth in amazement, until you got on your knees and stripped him of his tight belt and his suffocating pants and underwear. Even your mouth became wet as you saw again Minho's big manhood firm and hard in front of your eyes, you were so ready for the to suck him off. You felt it so exquisitely in your hands, there was no other cock like Minho's you had ever tasted, let alone wanted to surpass, you loved that it was perfect and so well kept, Minho kept his area very well waxed and clean; you couldn't tell it was to size because it hurt from how swollen and big it was as he fucked you through your vagina.

You leered at Minho, heart and pussy throbbing; he was looking down at you from above with a serious expression, his mouth was pulled together in a thin line and his trademark high cheekbones on his face showing no emotion, you knew he was aroused by his breathing and his latent cock in your hand. You stuck out your tongue and flicked his hard cock in it, while making eye contact with him for a few seconds. You sighed and began to devour his manhood. Minho gasped, grabbed your hair in a fist and lifted his hips a little, accidentally ramming your mouth making his cock reach to touch a little deeper into your palatal uvula.

“Fuck me deeper, princess” Minho whined, pushing your head and moving his hips.

It was huge, you took slight gasps of air every now and then, you were pleasurably suffering, your eyes were watering, you were leaking cum and saliva and Minho's gasps and little grunts were your favorite soundtrack, you were delighted both sensorially and aurally. Minho pushed you further until you felt him touch your throat a little, your body reacted and he quickly pulled your hair back, pulling his full length out of your mouth all at once, the sudden movement made it splash little droplets of liquid in the air falling on your bare tits, you were a mess, your lips and tip of your nose were red and swollen, your eyes were watering, and you were so flushed, you tried to catch your breath, looking loosely towards Minho who smiled so broadly showing his teeth, his tender uneven front incisors in the shape of a bunny.

“Oh, look at you” he said huskily in a look of pure pride, seeing his greatest treasure, your pleasure.

Minho, extremely excited took the base of his stiff cock with his fingers and wiggled it close to your face, slapping your pretty face gently.

“Come here and show me your nice ass, love.”

You gave everything to stand up again, you were weak, trembling and so soaked in your fluids. He turned you roughly by the waist, making you rest your palms on his desk. You raised your ass for him and arduously Milnho tried to pull up your skirt but the material was somewhat thick and unmanageable.

“Take my skirt off” you whimpered in supplication as you felt his hands run up and down your thighs.

“You have no right to tell me what to do unless I ask you to” Minho demanded and roughly pulled the skirt up as best he could, squeezing your waist tighter due to it being high waisted, you groaned at the friction.

Minho finally stood up, stroking your soft buttocks, his outside cock jumping at the movement. You felt the tip of his cock rub against your skin even though he was withdrawn, you wanted him to fuck you now, you wanted it to ache so good just the way he knew how.

Minho took his time, sliding down your soaked panties, appreciating the sweet liquid dripping into you, once he pulled the fabric down.

“Shit, y/n, did you cum already or are you just this wet?” he said in a sigh, sad that you didn't deserve to have your pussy eaten today.

You nodded and whimpered as you felt an unexpectedly hard spank.

“Yes what? I'm not a fucking mind reader, use your words.”

“I-i'm so wet” you whined.

“All that…?” Minho let out a haughty chuckle, thinking all that, just for a few touches from him. “Now, how many spankings for you to understand that you shouldn't act like a whore and go around with nothing on under your work clothes? Speak up!”

You couldn't think straight, last time Minho whipped you so hard that he left you sore for at least up to twelve hours after the blow.

“Five” you stammered without reasoning it out. Minho laughed derisively.

“Let's make it ten because I really met you being a fucking whore. Count them or we start again from zero.”

You screamed as you felt the first spank and gasped breathlessly “One.”

By the fourth spank you couldn't take it anymore, his hand was too heavy and the sound of the smack against your skin was so grotesque. You leaned limply back on your elbows on his desk, biting your lip hard and almost crying, you were still saying the scourge number as you were not thinking clearly, you did not want to be hit twice as hard again. Despite feeling so much pain, you felt strangely so much pleasure, you could feel the tip of Minho's cock brush against your entrance as he came on you.

“Did you learn your lesson, baby?”

“Yes” you cried, your buttocks were burning and you felt the flow of your blood travel fast fighting for your well being.

“Did it hurt?” whispered Minho excitedly leaning into your ear.

“Yes” you pleaded again.

You felt his rough balls and penis rub against your spine, then he pulled away from you, Minho unbuttoned his shirt quickly so it wouldn't get in the way of what he was about to do and, without warning, finally you cried out as you felt him all the way inside of you.

“So you want me to go slow, doll?” he asked ecstatically.

But despite your growing pain, you denied, you wanted to feel every millimeter of his cock inside, you had been looking forward to it so much that you even endured horrible strokes.

“No?” asked Minho incredulously. “Well, you said it. You love being fucked like a slut.”

And he began to penetrate you roughly and deeply, touching your sensitive buttocks; it felt so good, reaching all the way to your cervix with no problem. You gasped endlessly, it was pleasure to feel his cock filling your pussy roughly and your miserable body destroyed, strangely you loved it.

“I'm going to fill your pretty pussy, I'm going to cum in you, you like that, yes?” panted Minho speeding up his onslaught.

After minutes of thundering sex, your bodies joined together creating moaning sounds and skin on skin collisions, your aching body could take no more and you exploded enveloping and lubricating more of Minho's veiny cock, which was still thrusting in and out mercilessly, until after a small whimper, Minho's abdomen contracted and he cursed something barely understandable throwing his head back in complete pleasure, filling your insides with his semen. He slowly slid his length outward, opening your tight pussy a little with his thumbs, satisfied at the grotesque scene of his cock emerging from your orifice bathed in his thick white liquid.

You lay there for a few seconds, sprawled on his desk trying to catch your breath while Minho did the same, resting his cock on your buttocks. He tried to lift you up, you were in pain and lying down, he made you turn to look at him, cleaned the rest of the residue around your mouth and kissed you sweetly.

You received the first care after Minho's sex.

[…]

Your butt hurt so bad but you still followed Minho home since, according to him he had an important meeting at another company and wanted you to help him pick out the perfect outfit. And then you walked into his huge closet, almost making you sigh, it was a room that could easily be for rent in a crowded city like this. His shelves with his Gucci suitcases, his bags perfectly arranged and hung, you stopped looking perplexed at the space and returned your gaze to Minho who was watching you.

“What should I wear?” he said.

You walked over to the clothes and started searching without any idea in mind, you didn't know what he had in his closet so it was hard to think of the perfect outfit, you knew he would outshine any simple businessman anyway. You grabbed clothes at random choosing a white shirt, pants, jacket and tie, all in black.

“It looks good, do you want me to try it on?”

You mumbled a soft “Mm?”, but you were surprised to see Minho look down at his pants as he took them off, embarrassed you reflexively looked away as if you hadn't seen it all before. He noticed your reaction and smiled. However you couldn't help it, you had never seen him get dressed before so looking guilty and slyly you managed to see how the pants went up with agility but got slightly stuck on his package, Minho had to adjust it and, he put on the shirt so attractively raising his arms and sliding them inside the sleeves. Minho took your hand and directed it towards the terminals of it, indicating you to help him button it, he watched you carefully, wishing he could live like this with you on a daily basis. Suddenly the tension grew in you again, you looked up, into his eyes….

“It looks good on you” you murmured in front of his face.

Minho pulled you to his body pushing your ass ready to kiss you, but you moaned in pain.

“How can I make it up to you?” he said sympathetically noticing your pain.

You didn't know what to reply, to which Minho silenced your thoughts with a tender, slow kiss. Without realizing it and very carefully, you sat down on the stool in the middle of the closet; Minho was ready to make you happy again. He spread your legs apart and once again ruined your skirt by roughly lifting it up, he fiddled with your cunt which was just starting to get wet, Minho thought it looked just as nice and tidy, almost as if a few hours ago it hadn't been completely destroyed.

Minho buried his head between your legs, positioning your legs on his shoulders, he squeezed your thighs hard and you felt some of his warm saliva lubricate your pussy further. He was devouring you alive. His tongue digging at your entrance and his nose rubbing your center, you rolled your eyes in pure pleasure.

[…]

You had mentioned to Minho that you would be more comfortable if he took you home, so he did, he offered you to stay with the condition that early in the morning he could not attend you, that even when you were able to wake up he would not be at home due to his important day of meetings, so he would be at each of them as early as possible.

You said goodbye to him, both with an intense look and warm smile. You headed to your apartment and to your surprise, Felix was waiting at your door.

“Sorry, I wanted to see you and you weren't answering your messages” Felix sketched a smile once he saw.

Felix examined you and noticed your expensive suit, but wanted to save himself the question, he sensed something was up and preferred to live in ignorance than to know something that could hurt him. You smiled tenderly at him and invited him in.

“I missed you” he said and kissed you quickly on the cheek.

You felt horrible, he had stolen that kiss from you but… even if you had washed your face, you had had another man's cock around your face. You knew you and Minho weren't exclusive but… you couldn't be with two men at once. But the way Minho drove you crazy, there was no comparison, his sex slapping against yours, his skill in everything he does, making you beg if necessary.

“Is something wrong?” you were distracted by Felix, you denied softly. “Will you sit down?”

Oh, you couldn't do it, your ass was still burning with pain from Minho's spanking. And you weren't the least bit upset.

[…]

The next day was just as Minho had told you, he would be busy outside the company, you almost didn't see him even though you followed him everywhere as his assistant. There you were, in 7 different waiting rooms, just watching him move around with other executives as you tried to keep up with them. You could tell how focused he was and how important it was to him because he barely saw you.

Once his long day was over, almost two hours before the end of the working hours he set for the workers, you both walked silently to the car where the driver started off towards Minho's company.

You looked at him, he was serious, wearing exactly the suit you had chosen for him and, he almost seemed annoyed, you wanted to ask him what it was that suddenly made him angry, but he turned to look at you and smiled sideways, caressing your hand that rested on that long seat, both were sitting at each end of the side of the window.

After the silent ride, Minho went straight to his office and you felt like you were stranded there. Ten minutes later you got a message from him that he wanted you in his office now. You smiled, thinking he would be willing to talk.

You walked in and once he saw you, he held up his hands waving them in a sign for you to come closer.

“Come here.” he ordered you.

You walked confused and understood that he wanted you on his lap so you sat down… it wasn't the kind of encounter you projected, you really thought he wanted to talk but… if he wanted to do that, you didn't complain.

Minho suddenly had a sad, sorrowful look on his face and, there it was in him, the question that drove him crazy.

“Tell me, y/n, have you been with other men?” he suddenly blurted out.

You watched him for a few seconds examining his expression… that puzzled you too much, he seemed genuinely sad. You didn't know what to say, so you laughed in nervousness, thinking about what kind of question that was. Why he suddenly cared.

Minho had had a horrible experience among pure men, secreting contemptuously about girls like you, at least about your version of the secret, past life of yours. Something inside of him… he became angry little by little, until he felt stranded, he couldn't think about the fact that you were touched by someone else and, the worst was when he had to see how other guys approached you to flirt with you during his little business trip.

Minho saw you laugh but didn't find it the least bit funny, he actually almost cried in front of you, asking you that question.

“Well, clearly I'm not a saint…”

“I am referring to men before me who also received your… former service.”

You stared at him trying to decide if he was drunk from his nonsensical questions. But Minho was only crazy about you, it was his doom in dope. He couldn't resist it, little by little he realized, that he wanted you together with him and for him.

You laughed again and without answering him you kissed him, you had never seen him so yielded and submissive, his eyes shone almost wanting to shed tears, strong emotions made Minho sentimental despite being a rough man. You didn't think he was like that.

And for the first time he let you take control, he felt so lost in you, you lowered your kisses down his neck, unsure if you should continue, Minho saw you hesitating before him and placed his hand over yours near his shirt. He looked you straight in the eyes, suddenly darker than usual and said:

“Let's do something fun tonight.”

You smiled. There was the Minho you knew. He let you unbutton his shirt and a matter of a couple of minutes, your desperate hands masturbated his cock as you sought to adjust it to your pussy, mounting him in his chair. That dangerous game was getting out of hand, you felt so good that without thinking about it you could become obsessed.

Hours later that night, Minho took you to his room where you quickly noticed sex toys lying on the bed. You swallowed and let out an incredulous chuckle and looked at Minho who was calmly taking off his watch leaving it on his TV cabinet without paying attention to you. You liked his definition of fun.

“I can't believe it, you're like Christian Grey in real life.” you said amused.

Minho turned to look at you.

“Who?”

“You don't know 50 shad-, never mind, you must be too old for that.”

He smiled sideways at your comment and moved dangerously close to you.

“You think I'm too old for you?” he whispered to you.

You denied in amusement biting your lip, you loved it when he had the dominant one.

“Let's try something new,” he spoke curtly “get undressed.”

Your imagination flew at the sight of the objects on the bed and you nimbly stripped off all your clothes, waiting for more orders from Minho.

“Get on your knees on the bed.”

Confused, you tried to follow his instructions and, you saw him take the pink rope from the bed, your breath hitched, thinking he was going to tie you up.

“You know how I love camping? I'm very good with knots.” you looked at him smiling.

Minho slowly started to wrap you in that rope, passing it across your abdomen, breasts, tying your wrists behind your back, as well as your feet and suddenly you had lost your balance, you were completely immobile and tied tightly.

“We should go camping sometime.” you replied.

He took the ball gag and without saying anything, placed it in your mouth, this was getting interesting for you. You were lying on your side, impossible to move, Minho arranged you so that you were facing him, uncomfortable in your position as your hands and legs were attacked right behind.

And then the tantalizing game began, with Minho taking the vibrator he had prepared, sticking it on your clitoris as you moved in desperation in search of relaxation of your muscles, thinking about how you had come this far, being sexually pleasured every day.

“I'm going to fuck you hard” he warned you.

He did it the only way he could get away with it, your moans were drowned out by the ball gag and Minho faced the amusing and slightly humiliating sight of your needy body, wanting to escape the restraints.

Minho loved sex with you and the myriad of sensations you made him feel… but now he was so curious that there was connection beyond something sexual. He wanted to walk you and spoil you while you dressed so pretty for him. He would do anything for you.

[…]

“What is y/n doing here?” asked Hyunjin as he approached Minho.

Hyunjin had visited him since, despite being busy, he had something important to tell him. However your presence on his way to Minho's office surprised him.

“She works here.” replied Minho, leaning on his desk reading papers and not looking at Hyunjin.

“She works here? Isn't she like 20?” he repeated incredulously.

This time Minho raised his eyes and gave him a dirty look. Hyunjin understood instantly, the almost forgotten detail he noticed from the beginning, the obviousness in which Minho liked you.

“Speaking of age” Hyunjin continued, “I'm here because you know I don't hold back surprises and… you're very likely to ditch me or cancel at the last minute on the date, but this is something you can't cancel, since it's about your surprise birthday party.”

Minho looked at him confused, he hadn't even asked for a party.

“Hyunjin, I appreciate it but… you know you could have done something small.”

“I know, I remembered it once I had invited everyone. It will be this Saturday at my mother's country club. You got to celebrate welcoming your thirties.”

Minho checked the time, he didn't want to rush Hyunjin but you and him would have their first normal date…

And for both of you, it couldn't have been better, you talked so much, you knew Minho's various giggles and the weirdness in which he explained each of his stories, using gestures, you remembered every detail about him. Just like his sudden news that he would help you in your real professional career, you didn't want to accept it at first, but he had awkwardly said something to about how pretty you would look on every red carpet, blushing all over you. And you found yourself terrified that… you might like him. Since you'd had everything just the way you envisioned, a tender, perfect date, involving roses and ending… having sex so sweetly it makes you doubt if it's love.

You had asked Minho to give you the next day off, since you wanted to support Felix all the time in his short film project that he created and directed. The ceremony started and, almost like a revelation, you wanted to cry, it had been beautiful and it was about love, something unknown to you… you wondered if… after all… it could be Minho the person with whom you could cry without worry.

Felix saw you sad and knew you so well that he understood every single sign you gave as if you were in love, but sadly, they were not towards him. It was time to let you go.

And to you, almost as if reading your mind, you received a message from Minho, saying he was having a party tomorrow and needed you to help him pick out an outfit.

[…]

Everything was ready thanks to Hyunjin, people chatting with champagne glasses in their hands on the large green grassy area celebrating Minho's birthday in advance. You thought he looked so good in well pressed black cloth pants, black boots and a light blue shirt, with the Gucci cherry baseball jacket with white adding a great touch.

When you sat down to eat at the elongated table, you sat next to Minho, who, with a mischievous smile, and under the table, with guests present, slipped his hand under your dress, playing with your pussy a little. You thought he was unbelievable, always looking for an excuse to have your attention and reaction, you stopped him, once you were so wet and you were barely going to get to slowly approach your climax.

“Excuse us” Minho said grabbing you by your forearm, making you stand up.

Minho couldn't hold it in any longer. The crowd made him anxious and he found a certain safe space in you, so he dragged you out of sight of the crowd, and as he did so, you managed to quickly grab a cupcake from the dessert table.

You were about to eat your cupcake, slightly disinterested in whatever Minho was going to tell you, until you looked at Minho's pale expression, it alarmed you a little, you blinked worriedly but he interrupted you.

“I want you to be mine, I want to help in whatever you do, I want to be there for you all the time…”

Minho spoke, only as he knows how, trying to be gentle, but with a certain intensity in his actions and look.

You smiled sweetly, thinking of the rare way to say 'I like you', playfully smeared a bit of cupcake cream on the tip of his nose, causing him to tenderly giggle.

“I like you too, Minho.”

You smiled and licked the polish off his nose. Minho grabbed you by the waist bringing your bodies closer and looked at you sweetly.

“Tomorrow is your birthday, what do you want to do? I would do anything for you.”

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