#thank you for staying and for your support :)

[captain-huggy-bear]

A Little Misunderstanding

Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lil' angsty at points, but ends sweet, lots of mutual pining and two idiots not realising the other is also in love with the other, meddling mothers (for the best this time)

Summary: Your parents assume that Quinn, the man you mention over the phone all the time, is in fact your boyfriend. He's very much not, but Quinn thinks its funny to pretend he is...until it gets a little too real and maybe some truths are told and feelings are aired.

Notes: Thank you to the anon who requested fake dating to lovers with Quinn, I had this idea which is a little different from the usual fake dating so I hope its okay and you still like it 😊

Tried to keep it ambiguous as to where the reader originated from so that us UK girlies can relate as well as anyone else not from Vancouver and/or Canada.

Reminder I typically use UK spellings because I'm English so...don't come at me if you wish I spelt it the US away. If I have to read US spellings all the time, you can handle the odd UK spelling

Totally happy to take requests/ideas/prompts at the moment in my ask box :)

Writing Masterlist

"When does your flight get in?" You balance your phone between your shoulder and ear, picking up a stray sock that had fallen out of your laundry basket as you attempt to tidy your apartment.

"7am your time, sweetheart, remember?" Your mother's voice rings clear down the line, familiar and warm. It's been a while since you saw either of your parents. You having moved all the way to Vancouver, more miles than you could count from your birthplace and hometown around two years ago. You were excited to have them finally able to come out and stay with you for a week, they'd never been to see you, and it had been a while since you'd been able to see your parents, not having time to fly to see them. While you were glad for the move to Vancouver, living in a completely different place away from your family wasn't always the easiest thing in the world. You so often felt like you were having to fend for yourself without much of a support network. Luckily you'd made some good friends in the time you'd been in Van.

"Quinn offered to come with me to pick you and dad up, we'll be there waiting for you so don't worry about getting an Uber." You dropped Quinn's name casually because that's what it was, he was just another part of your existence. Your friend, who admittedly you had a small crush on, but just your friend nonetheless. Just because you thought he was beautiful and wanted to kiss him didn't mean you were allowed to kiss him or that he'd even want to kiss you. He was a friend who happened to be a man and you both happened to be single. This had not changed for two years and wasn't likely to any time soon.

"Oh, Quinn'll be there?" Your mother's voice was suddenly more upbeat, excited. She'd been eager to meet Quinn for months now, you're not sure why she finally took an interest in one of your friends but you can't help but be glad. Quinn had become a massive part of your life, a support network you very much needed when you'd first come to a strange new place all by yourself. He was part of the fabric of your life now, and you knew he'd charm your parents without even thinking about it. It shouldn't matter to you that your parents like your friend, its not like Quinn was your boyfriend, but it did matter to you. You wanted them to like him as much as you did because you wanted him around for the foreseeable future.

"Yeah, I mentioned you were coming to visit the other day and his car is bigger than mine, so he offered to come along, he has to get up early most days anyway so he's not too bothered by it." It helped that Quinn had a couple of days off, but still you were thankful. He could have spent his rare enough free time doing something much more enjoyable than helping you pick your parents up from the airport.

"Your father and I look forward to meeting him, we've heard so much about him, darling!"

There's something about your mother's tone that makes you stop for a second suddenly feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. Maybe it's just how eager she is or maybe it's something else, but there's a little red flag waving in the back of your mind with some small print on that you just can't quite read yet.

"Right...um, look I'll see you tomorrow morning then? I gotta get everything ready for you guys."

"Of course, of course! We love you!"

"Love you too, mum."

"You're sure you don't mind?" You look over at Quinn from the passenger seat, the two of you look exhausted, big bags under your eyes and even bigger hoodies to hide in because a 5am wake up to get to the airport in time was just a little much for both of you. This early in the morning it's still dark and the streetlights do something to Quinn's face that makes him even more handsome than usual, even as he looks like he might fall back asleep at any minute. It doesn't help that his scruff has grown out or that his hair is in those perfect waves he always seems to get even when he's just taken his bucket off.

"I wouldn't have offered if I did, besides the amount of time we spend together isn't it about time I met your parents? You've met mine." He smiles over at you, cheeky, the sort of Quinn most people didn't see. It's silly that it makes your cheeks feel warm, he's just your friend. You shouldn't be flustered by him.

"Your parents are at as many of your games as possible, of course I've met them."

"So are you. Sue me for wanting to meet the parents of one of my best friends."

"I'm your best friend?" You lean your head back on the headrest, tilting slightly to grin at him all silly. Quinn can see it from the corner of his eye and as much as it's ridiculous, that little grin makes you even more beautiful than normal.

"One of." He rolls his eyes at you, partly because of your silliness and partly rolling his eyes at himself. You're his friend. He shouldn't feel this way about you, men can have female friends...he just can't seem to have you as a female friend without wanting to kiss you at any given opportunity. It's becoming difficult, even more so in the early morning when the low light level puts your face in stark contrast and your hoodie, one of his, makes you look so cozy and sweet.

"That's just your way of avoiding admitting how much you love me and need me in your life."

Quinn's cheeks flush bright red, so bright that even the low light can't hide it nor hide the way he bites back a smile at you, eyes fixed on the road and the last few miles to the airport.

"...Shut up."

The silence that fills the car is comfortable, the sort that comes about from spending so much time together. You have friends that aren't Quinn, of course you do, but Quinn had been your first friend in Vancouver. He'd shown you around and made time for you in his incredibly busy schedule. You were often the first person he saw when he came off a roadie and the last person to see him before he left for one. There were nights when you stayed round Quinn's after a game or vice versa. You spent so much time together that you simply coexisted, being around Quinn was as easy as breathing. You rarely argued or disagreed and when you did it was always resolved properly. You simply worked. There wasn't ever much to think about with Quinn. You could just...shut off.

"Thank you, though...seriously." You take a moment, thinking how to word your next few thoughts, your warning as the signs for the airport come into full view, "Just, my mum seems really eager to meet you so...just brace yourself."

"Eager?"

"You know when your parents are excited to meet a new partner?" You think back to the few times you'd introduced a boyfriend to your mum, the excitement that she exuded...it was starting to concern you that she was that excited to just meet your friend. Because that's all Quinn was. Your friend. Not your boyfriend. Your friend, you remind yourself, even as he looks so good smiling over at you with his beard. He'd let it grow out just enough that he looked rugged and mature.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, she's that sort of excited which is really weird...she normally doesn't' care that much about my friends. Just, sorry, if she's really weird about it?" It's awkward enough talking about, you and Quinn have always stayed firmly platonic, you didn't talk about the fact that people assumed you were dating or even the concept of it. Talking about it felt...it felt like you were opening the curtains up, letting him see in a little too far.

"You didn't tell her we were married or something, did you?"

"Quinn! Shut up!" He laughs so loud that you can't actually be that mad at him, not when he's grinning at you like that, not when he's been so stressed as of late about the performance of his team. Even if it's at your expense.

"What? Just checking! For all I know you could have told her we got married in Vegas during one of my games or something?"

"If I'm telling my mum I'm married to you, it'll be because I'm actually married to you, you idiot." You roll your eyes at him, arms crossing over your chest as you turn to look out the window.

"Oh, so you do want to marry me?" He's joking, but he's not...he's thought about it. There's not a day that Quinn hasn't thought about what it would be like to be yours and you be his, not since he met you...and then promptly managed to land himself so far into the friendzone that he was scared to crawl his way out lest he leave you behind in the process.

"...I hate you."

"No you don't." His voice is singsong in intonation and sweet and he's right because you love him and it hurts...god, it hurts how much you love someone you can't have. Someone you see every day, someone who is so deeply ingrained in your life that removing him would be like carving a hole into your own chest.

You just sit and glare at him, even as a heavy sort of sadness hits, as he pulls up into one of the parking bays for collecting passengers.

It's okay that he's just your friend, you remind yourself as you get out of the car. It's okay because he's the best friend you could ask for, he's here at 6.45 am in the morning to collect your parents from the airport, not because he was asked or because he had to, but because he wanted to. You can live with loving him in silence, so long as you always have him around.

"I think they're over this way, probably, near gate 1?" You're just getting your bearings, trying to figure out roughly where your parents will come out at after they find their things from baggage claim when you hear it.

"My baby!" The squeal of a middle aged woman who hasn't seen her daughter in far too long pierces the air. You barely have time to brace yourself for impact before your mother is wrapping you up in a gigantic hug and pressing as many kisses to your face as possible, you know without a doubt her signature mauve lipstick is smudged all across your skin.

Your father stands behind her, rolling his eyes in amusement but the smile he gives you is no less warm, "Hey there, princess."

"Hi, mum, hi, dad," You pull yourself free from your mother just long enough to get a long awaited hug from your father, big and warm and so familiar that you almost feel like crying. How long has it been since you last hugged your dad? Half a year? Nine months? Longer? You sometimes don't realise how much you miss something until you get it back.

When you turn back around your mother is already pulling Quinn into a hug that he accepts, if a tad awkwardly, his hands patting her on the back like he's not quite sure how hugs work.

She has his face in her hands before you can intervene, overly familiar and friendly as she grins up at him like he's made her day just by existing. "You must be Quinn, Y/N's boyfriend..."

"Oh, he's n-" You're pretty sure your eyes bug out of your head, startled by the suggestion because at no point in the last few years of living in Vancouver had you ever called Quinn your boyfriend. Ever.

You're cut off by Quinn who's grinning at you wickedly over the top of your mother's head like he's just been giving the greatest Christmas present he could ever ask for and in that moment you know...you know that he is going to make your life very difficult with this tiny piece of information.

"Yeah, hi, nice to meet, the boyfriend, that's me." God, he wishes it was true. There's nothing more he wants in that moment than to be able to say to your mom that you are 100% his girlfriend, but he can't...he can, however, enjoy the roleplaying while it lasts. He can't really stop himself, not when you look so aghast at your mother calling him your boyfriend, not when he can use this to tease you for at least the next 30 years. He grew up with 2 brothers, sue him for taking advantage of the situation.

"Quinn!"

"What? Am I not allowed to call myself your boyfriend anymore?" He sidles up to you, slipping out from your mother's grip to pull you into his side. His arm rests naturally over your shoulder, yours finding his waist, and it is natural...because you've done this a million times before. The kiss he presses to your hair is new though, different and as much as your mum clearly believes the ruse, you can see your father just looks amused. Something tells you he knows this is all an act, but he finds it enjoyable to watch. Typical. No support from him when you need it most. Dads.

"Oh, she's just grouchy in the mornings, has been ever since she was a baby!" Your mother looks at the two of you with such pride that you're certain her heart actually might break when she finds out Quinn isn't actually your boyfriend. You've never seen her look so happy with your choice in a man before and you're certain she won't be able to cope when you have to inevitably tell her that it was either a) a lie or b) that Quinn just wasn't the guy for you (another lie just to make your life more complicated).

"Mum!"

"Oh don't worry, I know just how grouchy my baby can be in the mornings." This time he presses a kiss to your cheek and when he does, you hiss lowly in his ear, 'I'm going to kill you.' and Quinn can't help but laugh at you, biting his lip at how much fun he's having riling you up.

"Here let me take your bags, Mrs Y/L/N," Quinn's bending down before your mother can even begin to protest, her carry on backpack being slung over his shoulder and pulling up the handle of her suitcase to wheel it behind him.

"Oh, you don't have to, Quinn!"

"I insist." He knows he's making it harder on you, can see the look you give him because he's just going to make your mother fall in love with him. But, even as he enjoys riling you up, he was also raised right and he's not letting your mother carry her own bags.

Your mother hangs back with you while your father and Quinn start walking ahead with the suitcases. She slips her arm through yours walking with you to keep up, as she does so she does a very bad attempt at whispering. The sort of whispering that means you know Quinn can hear every word and is probably enjoying it immensely.

"He's such a gentleman..."

"Yeah, a real gentleman." You mutter sarcastically, watching the way his shoulders rise and fall in a silent laugh that he's no doubt doing his best to swallow down.

"Don't be grumpy, he's just being sweet on you. You should be glad for such a loving boyfriend..." Your mother scolds you before raising her voice back to normal, Quinn and your father slowing down slightly to help keep the four of you together, "So, Quinn, my daughter tells me you're a hockey player?"

"Yeah, you talk about me, baby?" Quinn's grin is wide, and you can't help the warmth that fills your entire face because you can't actually deny it. You talk about Quinn all the time, he's your best friend and whenever your mother phones, you inevitably talk about him. Whether it was a game of his you went to or a coffee place you'd visited together or gala he'd invited you to. Maybe, you talked about him too much? Maybe, it was obvious in the way you talked about him that you loved him? Maybe that's why your mother had made such a large assumption about your relationship status. Maybe this was your fault, why wouldn't she assume you were dating?

"She talks about you all the time. Quinn this, Quinn that...did you know that Quinn did this today and broke this record?"

"Mum..." You groan out, looking to your dad for help but all he does is shrug his shoulders at you, amusement bright in his eyes. Even if he could do something you know he wouldn't because he's clearly enjoying your torture.

Quinn can't help it, the tables seem to reverse. You're embarrassed still, but now he is too, bright red in the face, ears flushed the colour of a fire engine and a hand rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. All because you talk about him to your parents...you talk about him when he's not around...he feels like a twelve year old, giddy because his crush smiled at him for the first time.

"I play for the NHL."

"Vancouver Canucks, wasn't it?" Your mother asks as the four of you step out into the cold Canadian air, her attention making Quinn squirm and you smile, enjoying the discomfort being swapped around for a moment.

"Yeah, I'm the captain of the team." He smiles at your mother awkwardly as he opens the boot of the car and starts to pile in the suitcases, organising them in just the right way that they fit without hassle.

Your father chimes in as he lifts his own suitcase into the back, Quinn helping him shove it back further, "That's impressive, I used to play field hockey myself, never got out of the amateur league but got a few bruises in my time. You had an injury recently right?"

You still remember phoning your mum to talk about it, at first worried and then over time growing more and more frustrated with how sullen Quinn was being. He'd grown restless from not being able to play hockey and you'd been his distraction, a distraction that had grown fed up with his moping no matter how much you loved him.

"I've had a few this year, most recently my hand." He raises his braced hand, the brace a point of annoyance to him at this point in time. He was itching to be done with it, but put up with it because it meant he could still play hockey at the moment.

"Oh, you shouldn't have been carrying my bag then, Quinn!" Your mother fusses over him, flapping about as if she might have a miracle cure for his hand injury.

"Honestly, it's fine! It looks worse than it is, I promise. I wouldn't get away with it otherwise, this one would kill me." He nods his head at you as he closes the boot, opening one of the backdoors for your mother to slide inside.

"Damn right I'd kill you, I cannot take more days of you moping that you can't play hockey and that you're bored despite my amazing company."

"You know I enjoyed spending time with you, sweetheart...but..."

"But, you can't live without hockey, yeah, I know..."

He follows you round to the passenger side door, opening it for you like a gentleman and letting you slide inside. You find yourself enjoying the attention even as you catch your mother's eye in the rear view mirror, a little smirk reaching her lips as she watches Quinn buckle you in. Something he does from time to time when he's feeling particularly sweet...because he was a good friend.

"So, Quinn, how did you meet our daughter? I'm not sure she ever mentioned it?"

The entire ride home is filled with your mother peppering Quinn with questions, encouraging him to talk more and more about your 'relationship'. Everything from when you first met to the first date you went on (which Quinn told her was the first time he took you ice skating, you were under the impression that that was a friendly family skate event and most certainly not a date).

The conversation lulls while you set your parents up in your spare bedroom, helping them settle themselves and showing them around your apartment. They hadn't ever seen it in person and they spent half the time cooing over your choices, the photos of family and friends on the wall, the ones of you and Quinn, as well as your mother checking your fridge and telling you to buy more vegetables.

It's as you're sitting down to a breakfast of pre-bought croissants and pain au chocolat that your mother restarts her question. This time even more invasive than the first.

"So Quinn, when did you know?"

"Mm? Know what?" Your best friend looks at your mother with furrowed brows, taking a sip of his orange juice and almost choking on it when she proceeds to clarify her question.

"When you loved my daughter."

There's a long beat of silence where your eyes stay fixated on your plate, watching your own hands intently as you spread Nutella inside your croissant, far too focused on that to be anything casual or calm. You're certain you're going to be sick because he doesn't love you but you love him and your poor mother is so oblivious and this...this is going too far, it feels like it's gone too far.

"Expected answer or honest answer?"

"Honest answer."

"The second week I knew her." Your head snaps up with a start only to find Quinn looking directly at you, green eyes crinkling softly at the corners. "She heard that I had been hurt on the ice the night before and she stormed round my apartment with a bunch of food, medicine and a blanket. Spent the whole day looking after me and making me watch 90s movies I hadn't watched growing up. No one outside my family had ever done that for me before...it made me realise that if I wasn't already in love, I would be pretty quick." You almost believe him, the way he looks at you, the way he speaks so softly. Almost.

You look down at your plate, tears welling in your eyes because you know he doesn't mean it. He's spinning a yarn for your mother and it hurts that he would go that far when you both know this is all some ruse he's decided to pull. You swallow hard and take a bite of your croissant, refusing to look at him for the rest of breakfast.

You won't meet his eyes until he goes to leave after breakfast, your parents hanging back so you can say goodbye to your 'boyfriend'.

"Mind if I come over after dinner? We could watch a movie with your parents?"

"Quinn..." You go to challenge him on his behaviour today, but the words won't come out.

"What?"

"Nothing...uh, sure, after dinner?"

"After dinner, baby."

You want to tell him off as he says it, as he presses a kiss to your cheek so your parents can see because you aren't his baby and he's hurting you. He's hurting you without realising it because you so desperately want to be his baby. But, you don't. You just watch him walk away down the corridor of your apartment building and out of sight before getting ready to show your parents around Vancouver for the day.

You try to put the whole thing out of your mind throughout the day, showing your parents the sights of Vancouver, including the arena...but it's hard when they keep bringing Quinn back up and asking about your feelings. They probe you for half the day and it's emotionally exhausting balancing the truth with the half-truth, even more so knowing that they're going to be just as disappointed as you are when they realise your relationship with Quinn is just a sham, a charade, a fake.

Eventually they seem to grow bored of talking about the topic, however, and dinner goes relatively smoothly, you taking them to a nice restaurant Quinn had shown you back in your first couple of months in Vancouver. Even that feels bittersweet though, filled with memories of the two of you dining together. You can't help but feel like the whole issue needs addressing as you get them back home and pop a film on ready for Quinn's arrival.

When he arrives he continues the act as if it isn't one, greeting you at the door with a kiss to the cheek and pulling you down onto the loveseat opposite your parents, curling one arm around your shoulders and urging you to lay against him, your cheek pressed into his chest. In some ways it's familiar, not an act, because you cuddle for movies all time, completely platonically of course, but both of you are touchy feely and it's always been part of your dynamic. In others though? The way he talks to you, the pet names, kisses to your hair, that is all new, all a way to show your parents he's the 'doting boyfriend', even though he's not your boyfriend at all.

Your parents lap it up, every now and then you catch them smiling at each other and then over to the two of you and you can't help but feel heavy with it. With this feeling of unrequited affection. You love Quinn, you've known that for a while now, but it was easy to be around him because you didn't need to address it. You could love him in silence and from afar...you had never considered how hard it would become when what you wanted most was being dangled in front of you like a carrot on a string.

Quinn has a similar dilemma going on in his own head. He's always known he loved you more than a friend, even when you barely knew each other...had he been braver he would have asked for your number for a date that first day, not so that he could show you around a new city as a 'friend'. But, he'd been a coward and since then he'd continued to be. He enjoyed every ounce of affection he got from you, every hug, every cuddle, ever time you held his arm at an event, all while feeling like that had to be enough...now he's had more? He's not sure it'll ever be enough, he's greedy for you. Greedy for your affection, your attention, greedy in the way he wants to keep kissing you, keeping calling you sweet names and greedy for the way you grow bashful. Greedy for more than just being your friend...he's given himself a taste of what life could be like and now he can't forget it.

It's halfway through the movie, your legs slung over Quinn's lap and his fingers carding through the ends of your hair when your parents stand with a groan from the other couch.

"Princess?" You lift your head to look at your father, who's stretching out his back after sitting for so long.

"Yeah, dad?"

"Your mother and I are getting a little tired...we're going to go to bed, if that's alright with you two?"

"Of course, don't let us keep you up." Quinn confirms your own thoughts as well, telling your parents it's not problem at all. It's all so...so domestic.

Your dad presses a kiss to the top of your head, as does your mother, before yourself and Quinn wish them goodnight. You wait until you see the door to the spare room start to close, not waiting for it to do so fully, before turning to Quinn. You pull out of his arms, the missing warmth of you an immediate loss to him, but it has him sitting up straight and taking you seriously.

Your face is sullen, sad, eyebrows pinched, mouth turned down into a frown and he's alarmed to see that your eyes are glassy like you might cry.

"Why on earth would you let my parents think we're dating? Why would you tell my mother you're in love with me?" You're certain you're going to cry, angry, frustrated and sad all in one. Lovesick because it hurts to hear him tell your mother he was in love with you when you know he's not.

"Why not?" He frowns at you, hands reaching out but you keep just out of reach as if touching him is the last thing you want. You've never shied away from Quinn's touch and he recoils, breathing a little heavier out of anxious worry that he's upset you, that he's fucked this up. Maybe you've been uncomfortable with his touch all day? Has he been making you uncomfortable all day? Is he one of those guys?

"Because we're not dating and you're not in love with me, Quinn. My mother is certain we're going to get married and I'll stop being an old spinster! You're getting her hopes up." The unspoken words lay heavy on your tongue, 'you're getting my hopes up', you want to say.

"Who said I didn't love you? Who said I didn't want to marry you?" The look he gives you isn't the cheeky one he's had all day, it's not joking or silly, it's dead serious. He scoots closer to you, but doesn't reach out for you this time. But, Quinn can't help but want to be close to you, to be drawn into your orbit, into your gravity.

"Quinn..."

"What?"

"You're being mean..." Your voice is filled with tears, wet, pathetic sounding and you choke back a sob as a tear falls down your cheek because he's being so mean...he can't dangle that in front of you, everything you've ever wanted, not when he doesn't actually mean it.

He realises in that moment that you don't believe him. You believe he's spent the entire morning and evening telling lies, saying that he loves you when he doesn't, that you're that important to him when you aren't. You believe he's being mean because you don't believe him, that the tears are because you think he's holding this thing, this idea out in front of you, only to snatch it away.

"Look, I said a lot today...but none of it was a lie." He can't help himself this time, hand coming up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away that pesky tear that shouldn't have been there in the first place. It's the way you lean into his touch that brings him a sense of confidence, of relief, you wouldn't do that if you didn't want him touching you.

"I know our first date wasn't a date, just a stupid family skate I was too scared to ask you out to as more than just a friend. I wish it had been a date and I wish I had been brave enough from the start to tell you I didn't just want to be your friend."

"Quinn..."

"And I was telling the truth...when your mother asked me when I fell in love with you." He tugs you closer, until your legs are back over his lap and your practically sitting on top of him, arms wrapping around your lower back and pulling you closer. The way he stares up at you is nothing short of reverent.

"Q..."

"The second week we knew each other you came to look after me when no one else did...and I knew...I knew that I was going to love you and that I was stupid for not asking you out in the first place...but I was...I was too scared to say anything. I didn't want to lose my new friend...I thought..." He hesitates, tongue coming out to nervously brush against his bottom lip, capturing your attention like a magpie with a shiny button.

"You thought?" You're whispering, quiet as if to speak any louder might scare him, might disrupt this little bubble you've found yourself in.

"I thought having a tiny bit of you...any bit, was better than having none of you at all." Quinn confesses, shifting you on his lap as your legs fall either side of his hips until you're so close your noses brush.

"Is it?"

"It was...for a bit..." It's self-deprecating, sardonic, like he finds himself ridiculous, foolish.

"And now?"

"And now I've had a taste of what it's like to love you, to be able to kiss you and hold you...call you mine...and now I'm greedy and it's not enough...Baby, it'll never be enough."

"You...you love me?" It's like even after all of this, everything he's said, every tender touch, you still don't quite believe him. It's hard to believe that everything you've ever wanted is sat in the palm of your hand just waiting for you to capture it, to take it. That your feelings, the ones you believed were unrequited for two years, were actually returned all along.

"I love you...and...um, if...if you'll have me, maybe I could be your real boyfriend this time?" His face is bright red, so warm to the touch when you're fingers reach out to trace his cheeks that you're surprised he doesn't combust.

"I'd like that...I...I love you too,"

"So...I'm your boyfriend?" He says it like he doesn't quite believe it, the beauty mark on his cheek moving as he grins up at you giddy like a little kid getting his first bag of sweets.

"You're my boyfriend." You press a kiss to that beauty mark without overthinking it...because you can now, because now it's not a lie when you tell your parents he's your boyfriend, because now you're allowed to kiss him and hold him and tell him how much you love him.

"Fuck...that sounds good."

He can't help but just stare up at you from where you're straddling his lap. The healthy glow to your skin, the soft smile directed down at him, the way you seem to curl into him like you're not close enough even now. God, you're beautiful and you're his...you're finally his and he's yours and...and he can't comprehend that the thing he wanted to happen for so long has finally happened. What had he been scared of all this time? He could have been with you for two years, instead he'd squandered it out of fear...

"Quinn?" Your voice is soft, melodic, so so sweet that almost closes his eyes at the sound.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Kiss me?" You whisper as if it's shameful to ask, as if you've asked for something more sordid than a simple kiss...your first kiss together at that.

"Anything for my girl."

He's gentle in the way he cups your neck and jaw with one large hand, thumb pressing just below your jaw bone as he pulls you in. There's nothing rushed about the way Quinn presses your lips together, the smooth glide of his bottom lip against your top. Even the way his tongue brushes against your lip until you open up for him is slow, steady, adoring. You can't help the way you sigh into him, fingers gliding through dark chocolate strands, eyes closing shut with the sense of home, sense of relief that you find in him.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other, slow kisses, wandering hands, nothing too extreme, but a new found intimacy that you're finally allowed to indulge in before you curl back up together to watch the remainder of the movie. Watch being a loose term for what you're really doing.

"Did you know?" Your father turns his eyes away from the scene outside the spare bedroom, the way you're curled up in Quinn's arms like you were always supposed to be there. Neither of you realising that the spare bedroom door had never fully closed, both your parents eavesdropping like Samwise Gamgee.

"That they weren't actually together, dear?" Your mother looks sly and devious as she looks over at her husband. The face of the woman he loves, but also fears in equal measure.

"Yes."

"Of course I knew...but I figured they could both use a shove in the right direction, I mean, look at them?" Your parents both turn to watch the two of you, the way you curl up together on the couch is the epitome of young love. There's no real watching of a movie happening, instead Quinn's fingers are rubbing circles into your shoulder, while you look up at him lovingly from where you're curled against his chest. Every now and then he dips his head down to press a kiss against your forehead, and each time you giggle, face pressing briefly into his neck. The giddy feeling of a new, fresh love, making film watching the least of your interests.

"They just needed a little push." Both your parents smile at each other even as your father playfully scolds his wife, "You're a meddlesome woman."

"And you love me for it."

"Yes, yes I do."

Perhaps it took a bit of meddling, a fake misunderstanding, but that would be their little secret...at least for now. Your mother was rather looking forward to seeing you squirm in the future as you reveal the truth, that you hadn't actually been dating Quinn as long as you said. Yes, she certainly was happy to help, but she also was still your mother and lying to your mother was certainly not the done thing. A little squirming was good for you sometimes, but first, she'd let you enjoy the fresh bloom of love...and she'd go easy on you.

[neodymiumcuilz]

!! URGENT FUNDRAISER !!

Hello!! I would like to urge anyone who is able to donate, to share or do anything to help to please do so, this is an urgent situation, and donations/help will go such an long way, please show your kindness by helping people in dire need.

Thank you!!

Hello dear friends ! ❤🤍💚🖤🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

All positive words can't show how generous you are, especially on the side of sharing my posts to let other donors know about the people of Gaza who are still suffering the horrible circumstances resulting from the injust war on Gaza! 🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸❤🤍💚🖤

Thank you from the deepest bottom of my heart for the support you are showing to help Palestinian families stay safe and alive.

Despite the various colours of sufferings and tortures we are undergoing at the moment, your brave stances and support greatly ease and relieve us . Your loud voices and your heroic acts make a great difference to our Palestinian cause. 🖤💚🤍❤🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸

We are fundraising such donations to have the least basic needs of life and to help find safety and peace for the little kids who don't deserve to lead such horrific situations.

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Please keep supporting the fairest cause of the world either by directly donating or sharing the link to let others know. Don't hesitate to help people in tough and dire times till the black days end.

[xiaq]

Story time: Amazon can go fuck itself, and other genteel thoughts.

Good evening. I’m angry.

Up until now, I’ve purchased the majority of items I can’t thrift from Amazon because it’s easy and cost-effective, despite the moral qualms I have about the company. Previously, support was simple. If an item was damaged or a package didn’t arrive, you hopped on chat/the phone, provided proof, and they gave you a refund or return label.

But some shitstain from on high has introduced a new “incident report” process when something goes wrong. You submit your details, you wait 72 hours, and then they give you a refund. This would also be fine. If it fucking worked. But I have, at this point, irrefutable evidence that this is not actually how the process is intended to work. It’s meant to drive you so far up the wall that you either die from a stress-induced heart attack, or rage quit, and they get to keep your money.

In the last several months, I’ve had to submit three incident reports for damaged and undelivered items (I’m also encountering a lot more issues with item delivery, but that’s a different story).

ALL THREE TIMES, the process has taken weeks rather than days because ALL THREE TIMES they conveniently “had no record” of multiple incident reports I submitted despite the fact that I had confirmation emails each and every time.

Now, I’m a petty bitch, so even though the hours I was spending checking in, waiting on hold on the phone, being passed from agent to agent, was not worth the $10 and $20 refunds I was trying to get them to honor, I wasn’t going to give up. This last time, though. Oh they really tried.

So. My item isn’t delivered. I submit an incident report on the 12th and get my confirmation email of the submission on the 12th. I haven’t heard back by the 14th so I call and check. Shockingly, they have no record of my report. I submit another one, get another confirmation email. I call back the next day to check they received it. They have not. I beg them to let me forward the confirmation emails I have. I ask what else I can do different. They tell me to submit a new report and hang up on me. I submit another report. I receive another confirmation email. I call the next day. Can you guess? They have no record of it. This time, I ask for them to stay on the line with me while I submit a new report and confirm it’s been received. He confirms receipt and promises I will receive a response by the 21st. I record this conversation because I have a suspicion.

Hello. It is the 21st. Have I received a response? No. I call back. THIS ASSHOLE, who I’m pretty sure is reading this shit from a script, says, (are you ready for this) “There’s no record of an incident report, you’ll need to submit one.” I insist that I had confirmation in writing and verbally. She insists it does not exist.

So I tell her. I now have four confirmation emails. I have a recording of an Amazon support person with their credentials assuring me with the product number stated, that they’ve received my report. I also have been recording this conversation. And if she cannot assist me, I will be posting those emails and both recordings to every social media platform I have, filing a BBB complaint, and checking with my lawyer to see what options I have for legal action (do I have a lawyer? Of course not. But she doesn’t know that).

Immediately, she is backpedaling. “Oh, let me check again, maybe I missed it.” Less than 30 seconds later she’s back on the line. “I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, I do have your report here. I will process a refund now.” Shocking. I am shocked.

IT SHOULD NOT TAKE THIS MUCH EFFORT TO GET A COMPANY TO HONOR THEIR PROMISED LEVEL OF SUPPORT.

Jesus Christ.

B and I will be finding different local places to purchase items we tend to buy via Amazon now, because I have every intention of ending our Prime membership. It looks like between Costco and Target we should be covered.

Anyway. No point to this except to rant. Thanks for reading if you got this far. I’m going to go lay under the weight of my dog and try to get my heart rate down.

[astars-things]

for the lando au, can we get an insta au where y/n posts a bunch of pictures to prove that they are still together because there are rumors they broke up and that lando is seeing someone else. thank you!

*I don't own any of these photos they are from Pinterest

Liked by @.PitStopQueen and others

@.F1.Tea LANDO NORRIS SINGLE, Hear it here first: Lando Norris is single, rumors have been going that Lando Norris and his long-time girlfriend Y/n Hughes have broken up, sources say they saw him getting handsy with another girl in Monaco

view comments

@.PitStopQueen Y/N and Lando breaking up? This feels unreal… I’m actually so sad about this.

@.F1hasmyheart He’s single now?!? Omg, dreams do come true

@.Landofan OMG Lando is finally single? 👀👀 manifesting my shot

@.User2 Y/N and Lando breaking up feels like my parents divorcing. 🥲

→@.user no same because I'm sitting here crying hoping its a prank

Liked by @.jackhughes @.Landonorris and others

@.Y/n_hughes they could never tear us apart

tagged @.Landonorris

view comments

@.f1fangirl101 Ugh, I wish the breakup rumors were true. Lando deserves better.

@.hockeygirl23 She’s not even that great. Lando deserves better.

→@.jackhughes If you’re going to be disrespectful, don’t follow my sister. Simple as that

@.teambreakup: Sometimes rumors should stay real. Sorry, not sorry.

@.trevorzegras Love you both, Y/N and Lando.

@.Y/n&landoship Yesss! My favorite couple is still going strong. ❤️

*liked by @.Y/n_hughes @.Landonorris

@.norrisnation: Finally, the confirmation we needed! Lando and Y/N are the power couple we deserve. 💪🏎️

*liked by @.Y/n_hughes @.Landonorris

@.saltyanonymous Bet this was just damage control. We all know it’s not real

liked by @.f1andhockeylove @.McLaren and others

@.Landonorris To my dearest @.Y/n_hughes, I love you so much, thank you for supporting me, I will go to the moon and back for you just to see your beautiful smile, there is no other girl for me, you're beyond perfect. To anyone who sends her hate, consider this your warning, if you keep sending hate, I will block you

View comments

@.puckfan101 Haters just can’t handle how perfect you two are. Don’t let them get to you.

@.Quinnhughes Appreciate you standing up for my sister. We’ve got her back, too.

@.f1andhockeylove Protecting your girl like the king you are 👑. We stan Lando and Y/N forever!

@.McLaren Lando is an icon, he's a legend and he is the moment

→@.jackhughes y/n get off the McLaren account

→@.Y/n_hughes I don't know what you're talking about

@.lhughes_06 This is cute but also gross

@.Y/n_hughes Lando, I will forever and always love you

[echo-riot]

Ambessa with a reader who always refuses to take money from Ambessa or hates (but also appreciates) when she buys/gives her gifts?

Thank you. 🤍

✞⛧ Ambessa Medarda with partner Who Refuses Gifts or Money ✞⛧

• Ambessa quickly notices your resistance to accepting gifts or financial support, but at first, she brushes it off as modesty. It doesn’t take long for her to realize how deeply you dislike the idea.

• She finds your independence admirable—refreshing, even. Ambessa is surrounded by people who would happily accept her wealth without a second thought, so your stance on the matter intrigues her.

• “I don’t need your money,” you’d say firmly, arms crossed. Ambessa would chuckle, leaning back in her chair. “And I don’t need your permission to take care of you.”

• Despite your protests, she enjoys surprising you with thoughtful gestures. She trades lavish gifts for subtle ones—flowers picked from the garden, your favorite treat delivered unexpectedly, or handwritten notes slipped into your belongings.

• Ambessa starts tailoring her generosity to align with your values. Instead of extravagant jewelry or luxury items, she offers practical help—fixing something that’s broken or providing resources that support your goals.

• The arguments over her spending on you are a mix of frustration and affection. “Ambessa, I told you to stop!” you’d exclaim. “And I told you I won’t,” she’d respond, her tone calm but unyielding.

• You secretly appreciate the care and effort she puts into her gestures, even if they make you uncomfortable. It’s hard to stay mad when her gifts always seem to come with so much thought behind them.

• Ambessa loves watching you reluctantly accept something she’s given you, especially when she can see how much you genuinely love it. The way your lips twitch into a small, begrudging smile is a victory she cherishes.

• When she takes you to high-profile events, Ambessa always ensures you’re comfortable. She might insist on dressing you in something extravagant, but she’s quick to remind you, “You deserve to shine just as brightly as anyone else here.”

• To compromise, you occasionally let her spoil you in ways that feel more personal, like cooking you a meal or spending a quiet evening together. She never complains, as long as she can show her love in some way.

• Ambessa admires your determination to stand on your own. It’s one of the many reasons she fell for you. Still, she wishes you’d let her shoulder some of your burdens now and then.

• She’s incredibly patient when it comes to easing your discomfort about gifts. “One day,” she’ll tease, “you’ll realize there’s no shame in being cared for.”

• Ambessa takes note of your interests and passions, finding ways to support them without crossing your boundaries. If you’re an artist, she might quietly arrange for high-quality supplies to find their way into your life. If you’re studying something, she’ll ensure you have access to the best resources.

• On special occasions, like your birthday or an anniversary, she pulls out all the stops despite your protests. “Just let me have this one,” she’ll say with a sly grin, knowing full well you can’t argue when she’s already set everything in motion.

• The way you try to downplay her wealth or influence amuses her endlessly. She loves that you see her as just Ambessa, not the legendary warrior or the untouchable powerhouse everyone else sees.

• If anyone dares to question or criticize your refusal to take advantage of her wealth, Ambessa is quick to shut them down. “It’s none of your business,” she’d say coldly, her protective nature flaring.

• You’ve learned to accept that Ambessa shows her love through actions, even if it’s not always in the way you’d prefer.

• Sometimes, when you’re in a particularly vulnerable moment, you let her spoil you without resistance. Whether it’s allowing her to hold you close or accepting a small token of her affection, those moments mean the world to her.

• Ambessa never takes your independence as a rejection of her love. If anything, it makes her respect you even more. She knows that when you do accept her care, it’s because you truly trust her.

• At the end of the day, Ambessa’s greatest gift to you is her unwavering support and love. Whether it’s through grand gestures or quiet moments, she’s always there, reminding you that she cherishes you for exactly who you are.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

A Drabble based on this idea

Ambessa Medarda had built her life around power. A woman of her stature and reputation was accustomed to the finer things—luxury, control, and influence—and she wielded them with ease. Giving came naturally to her. She could shift mountains if she wanted, and handing her beloved a small token of affection felt like the least she could do.

But you? You made it insufferably difficult.

She sat in her sunlit study, a newly commissioned necklace dangling from her fingers, the diamonds catching the light. It was elegant yet understated, perfect for you. Or at least, she thought so.

The memory of your last argument still lingered in her mind.

“Ambessa, I told you,” you had said, arms crossed and a stubborn pout on your face. “You don’t have to keep buying me things. I don’t want your money.”

“And I told you,” she had countered with a calmness that only years of diplomacy could maintain, “it’s not about needing to. I want to. You deserve to be spoiled.”

“I don’t need to be spoiled!” Your voice had raised, though your frustration wasn’t with her, not really. “I don’t want people thinking I’m with you for—”

She’d cut you off with a sharp look, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Don’t finish that sentence.”

Now, sitting in her study, Ambessa couldn’t help but chuckle. You were perhaps the first person in years who had refused to let her generosity flow unchallenged. It wasn’t that you didn’t appreciate her gifts—she could tell by the soft smiles you tried to hide when she surprised you with something thoughtful—but there was a fire in you that refused to let her money define your relationship.

It was admirable, frustrating, and entirely too endearing for her own good.

That evening, Ambessa found you in the garden. The sun was setting, painting the horizon in hues of amber and crimson. You were kneeling by the flowerbeds, tending to the blooms you’d insisted on planting yourself, despite her offers to hire a gardener. Dirt streaked your hands, and a content smile curved your lips.

“Working hard, I see,” Ambessa said as she approached, her voice carrying the same smooth confidence that had drawn you to her in the first place.

You glanced up, your expression softening when you saw her. “Someone has to.”

She smirked, kneeling beside you. “Careful, or I might take that as an insult to my work ethic.”

Your laugh was light, and it sent a flicker of warmth through her chest. “You? Not working hard? I’d believe the sun rising in the west before that.”

Ambessa reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. Her touch lingered, and she took a moment to admire the way the golden light kissed your skin.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured.

You blushed, your hands pausing in the soil. “You’re not bribing me into accepting another gift with compliments, if that’s what you’re trying.”

She laughed, a deep, rich sound that you couldn’t help but love. “Is it so hard for you to let me spoil you?”

“Ambessa,” you said softly, shifting to face her. “I love you, but… I don’t want our relationship to feel transactional. I want to earn the things I have. I want to contribute.”

Her expression softened, her fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of your hand. “Do you think so little of me? That I would ever see you as someone who takes without giving back?”

“No, of course not.” You sighed, frustrated with yourself. “But people talk, Ambessa. They’ll see us and assume—”

“Let them assume,” she interrupted, her tone firm. “Their opinions are worth less than the soil beneath your nails.”

Her gaze was steady, unwavering, and you felt your resolve weaken under the weight of it. Ambessa always had a way of cutting through your insecurities, laying them bare so she could banish them with her unwavering confidence in you.

“I just don’t want to lose myself,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to forget who I am.”

Ambessa cupped your face, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “And I would never let that happen. You are the most remarkable person I’ve ever known, not because of what you have, but because of who you are.”

Your eyes stung, and you blinked rapidly. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

She smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Years of practice.”

Later, as the two of you sat by the fire, she brought out the necklace she’d been holding earlier.

“Ambessa…”

“Before you say anything,” she began, holding it up so the firelight danced along the diamonds, “this isn’t just a gift. It’s a symbol. Of us.”

You frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

She gestured for you to turn around, and you reluctantly obliged. Her hands were steady as she fastened the necklace around your neck, the cool metal resting against your skin.

“This,” she said, her voice low and intimate, “is to remind you that you are cherished. Not for what you do or what you give, but simply because you’re you. And if anyone dares to question that, they’ll have me to answer to.”

You touched the pendant lightly, your heart swelling despite your initial resistance. “Ambessa, I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she replied, turning you back around to face her. “Just promise me you’ll wear it when you need a reminder of how much you’re loved.”

You nodded, unable to fight the smile that tugged at your lips. “Fine. But no more gifts for at least a month, okay?”

Ambessa chuckled, pulling you into her arms. “I’ll do my best. No promises.”

The next morning, you found a handwritten note on your bedside table, accompanied by a single red rose.

My dearest,

You are the one thing in my life that no amount of wealth or power could ever replace. I may not always express it in ways you approve of, but my love for you is unshakable. Thank you for being my balance, my light, and my heart.

Yours, always,

Ambessa

You sighed, a mix of exasperation and affection filling you. She would always push your boundaries, but you couldn’t deny the love and care behind her every action.

•|||——————————————————————|||•

[doiliedaze]

The Jewel of the Sea

Warnings: Sevika kidnaps reader, age gap (reader is 25 and Sevika is around her early 40s), reader is chaotic, enemies to lovers, mean Sev for a while, y’all threaten each other a lot and both have hit each other, Sevika kills someone, reader almost dies, another awkward fight scene, virgin reader, reader cums fast because that’s normal for a first time (so is taking a second), reader has blood on her when they have sex, praise, check-ups, reader gets eaten out, tribbing, I think that’s it LMAOOOO

Genre: fluff, angst, smut

A/N: im so excited for this fic and will be expanding on pirate Sevika!! They are so soft to me like I love them together!! Thank you all for your support I get so happy seeing you all and talking to you guys ʕ̡̢̡⌯͒•ɷ•⌯͒ʔ̢̡̢ this is long asf omg and I wasn’t gonna make it a series cause I can’t have another series rn lol

Translations- priya = darling, jaanu = my life

I researched that her name has Hindi, Sanskrit origins so I thought this would be a cute way to tie her culture in.

───────┈ · ·

Tonight is the night you’ve been raised for, tonight you become queen. The day was going as planned. Flowers here, knights there, it was almost out of a fairytale. You knew this was too good to be true. You’ve been known for your intuition, it’s why your parents put you before your older sister. Whom holds no resentment towards you only a sadness that you couldn’t pursue your own dreams.

Since you were little you’ve adored the ocean, often thinking in another life you were a mermaid. Admiring the idea of protecting the ocean and it’s creatures somewhat like how you saw your mother care for her people. To swim as free as your sister rode. To sing an enchanting song to defeat enemies as your father cut others with his words.

You often reminisce on the idea and in your opinion it helps you be a better princess. Your thoughts were interrupted as your seamstress finish the last lace detail on you coronation dress. You step off the dress to admire yourself stuck in utter awe.

Time passes as you wait behind that humongous door, the door that’ll start the new chapter in your 25 years. The love your family expressed to you unmistakable. As soon as you were alone you felt odd? Almost on edge…

You kept your eyes peeled, and shrugged it off as nerves. The thing about intuition is, it’ll work for you if you work with it.

Ignoring the churn in your stomach you walk as you hear the cue of the violins. As soon as the door opens, chaos is afoot!

Your eyes can’t focus on anything as you look for your family whom are nowhere to be found! Panic is settling into you as you try to create a plan. You see a discarded sword and pick it up awkwardly clutching it, you were always better with archery.

Running through the crowd not sure how to help or what to do your eyes settle on her.

She’s looks like she’d tower over you and hunt you down. You notice her scars and her mechanical arm. Her light smirk and her piercing gaze. It’s like the confusion in the crowd didn’t matter because she was steadily stalking towards you. You’ve heard of her before, she’s known for what she does and how she gets away with it.

Prey in a predators radar is exactly what you were, but you had a choice to fight or flee. You choose to flee as it’ll be you advantage. You know this castle and it doesn’t matter how many times they could’ve mapped it out this is your home.

Clutching the sword you run through the doors and into the hallway. Your main focus is making it to your crawl space which will take you to the gardens. As soon as you got close enough, the knob a fingertip away a sturdy hand grabs your waist and pushes you to the floor. Your sword drops as you try to brace your fall. Not ready to give in despite the pain in your body, you kick at her.

She laughs, how dare she mock you?

To make sure you stay still so her crew could make a swift escape she knocks you out with a cloth.

In almost an instance you went from queen to be, to hostage.

In a haze you wake up in a strange room, it looks to be a office with a makeshift bedroom area? You grip the sheets as you sit up eyes taking in the decor. Treasure here and there, maps neatly tucked away. Slowly you get up feeling that you are without your corset. Heat runs to your face but you push that aside as you look for a weapon.

Gathering courage you go out into the deck looking for her. That brute that took you from your home! The sun was blinding as and the smell of the sea was consuming but you saw her.

You storm up to her despite the laughs from her crew that quite when you dawn the knife you found.

Her express has yet to change from that smug satisfaction.

“Take me home, I demand it!” You yell pointing the knife at her face.

“Careful princess you might hurt yourself.” She laughs, oh what you’d give to rip that laugh out of her throat.

Before you could protest further she grabs then squeezes your wrist disarming you. You squirm as she slings you over her shoulder and makes her way back to her room.

Softly she places you on the bed and closes the door. “You’ll be staying in my quarters.” She states as she gives you space.

“Take me home!”

“I know you aren’t deaf.” She snorts

“You must be dumb because I refuse to stay on this ship!” With that she gets in your face, “you’ll mind how you talk to me.”

Anger rising in you, you spit on her square in her face.

Keeping her composure she steps back and wipes her face.

“I understand this isn’t ideal but you’ll get use to it.”

“Wow an understanding pirate how lucky am I!” You say with an eye roll.

“I took you because of your looks but you’ll stay because of that mouth.”

Being as bull headed as you are, you get off the bed and walk up to her.

“I will be going home with your permission or not!” You keep your voice steady and clear.

Swiftly she pushes you up against the nearest wall. Her breath ghosting your neck. Her thick fingers playing with the lace on the bust of your dress. “Don’t push me princess, you aren’t the first pretty thing I’ve thrown overboard.”

Fear churning in your stomach you whimper softly, pulling a wolf like grin out of her.

“You like that pretty thing? Being threatened is that what gets ya goin’.” Softly she tugs on your dress revealing more of your plush breast.

Your chest heaves as no one has seen you like this. “You are a degenerate.” You state avoiding eye contact. “Sometimes” she states as she moves her flesh hand to pull a stray coil. You swat at her hand and she moves, “get some rest you’ll need it for tomorrow princess.”

Defeated and highly flustered you lay in the bed and give your mind to your dreams.

Your nights use to end with you going to sleep alone and you waking up alone until one night. Sevika was charting at her desk and you were reading on the bed. When she assumed you were getting sleepy she packed up to leave but you broke the silence. “Stay…please.”

She gave you an expression you couldn’t read but she obliged. She puts her things down and lays next to you. “Trouble sleeping?”

“Before this I’ve never slept on a ship before…it’s different.”

“It’s not that bad once you get used to it.” She awkwardly slide her fingers into yours. Obvious she hasn’t done this before. You put your pride to the side and nuzzle into her. “I had a bear…I can’t sleep without her so…” with that she just squeezes you close, embracing you. Being able to relax you inhale until you drift off to sleep.

The next months were a blur as you roam the ship endlessly. You were peering out at sea when you smell her behind you. That strong scent of wood burned into your senses.

“What’s occupying your mind priya?” Her rough hand softly touching your shoulder.

Priya…you still don’t know what it means but it’s nice to hear, better than a condescending princess or pretty thing.

Over these last few months you’ve learn to tolerate her. You two still argue like there’s no tomorrow but you grew to worry when she would stress and you’d help keep order. You saw how she’d grow to worry when you couldn’t sleep or if you’d stare off too long, wanting this to be a home for you how this has been a home to her crew.

“I want to go home.” You sigh leaning forward, gripping the ledge.

“You are home.” Sevika states coldly, “ I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you?”

“Why being a hostage isn’t enough for me?”

“Hostages don’t get freedom or new clothes you choose to stay on the boat when we dock!”

“I refuse to be seen with you!” You shout turning to face her. The hurt in her eyes are evident but she pushes it down, “this is what I get for protecting a brat!”

“You aren’t protecting me at all! I told you I’m going home with or without you!”

“How would you suppose you’d get home princess?” She cocked her eyebrow and spoke with venom.

Irritated and wanting to prove your point you look around and it dawns on you, you are an amazing swimmer.

Without warning you hoist yourself over the ledge and fall into the ocean. The water was cool but not unbearable.

You sink down trying to gain cover with the bubbles of your submersion but it wouldn’t matter because Sevika jumped in after you.

Concerned more than angry she swims to you and with a rope and the help of the crew the two of you are retrieved!

“Are you out of your fucking mind y/n! Do you not understand how you could’ve hurt yourself pulling a stunt like that?” She shouts not giving you a chance to catch your breath. The crew was quite, it’s a big divide whenever you two argue, Ran typically getting in the middle of it.

“Why can’t you understand you took me from my home and I don’t feel safe with you!”

Angrily she grabs your face squeezing just enough to leave a sting. “So all the nights I hold you and talk to you doesn’t make you feel safe?” You claw at her biceps as you feel tears well in your eyes.

“That’s enough Sevika I think she understands she’s wrong.” Ran states stepping closer.

Sevika can feel her stomach churn because she made you cry. “There’s nothing to see here go back to your stations!” She yells as she pushes you into Ran then left to her quarters.

With that you walk away and go to your spot. You like to sit on the front of the ship with her right hand Ran. They are sweet to you surprisingly and keep you updated on your kingdom. You’ve been presumed dead and your family is devastated but they have to move on.

“I don’t understand why she keeps me here, I refuse to help.” You sniffle and wipe your face.

“You’re entertaining to her I suppose.” Ran says with a shrug, “I don’t question her anymore she wouldn’t give me a straight answer at least when it comes to you.”

“Why’d you guys raid my castle in the first place?” You turn to face them.

Ran’s shoulder tense slightly. “Not sure if I should tell you honestly.”

“You’re the only person I can talk to Ran please!” You grab their hand.

“We were raiding your kingdom because we heard of a King getting ready to kill his heir and we wanted to goods before the drama settled in.” They avoided your eyes feeling a slight shame.

Dread seeps into your heart as their words repeat in your head “ a King getting ready to kill his heir.”

“No I…he wouldn’t!” You stand abruptly, “he loves me!”

“He was raising you for slaughter! Who makes their second in line the monarch? Look I know this is hard but you ever wondered why your family never truly went looking for you? We’re a notorious group and-”

Without another word you were running to Sevika.

When you enter the bedroom you find her frustrated at the desk writing in her journal.

“How may I help you princess?” She mutters without even looking at you, “he was trying to kill me?” You whisper as your voice shakes.

Sevika looks up at you not sure how she wants to respond. She’s never been good with emotions whether it’s hers or someone else’s. Sevika had to grow up in a world where she was the only person who cared about her. That’s why it was so easy to make the seas her home.

Slowly she opened her arms to you and you run over to her lap. In disbelief you sob on her mechanical shoulder. “Why would he do that to me?” You ask in broken breaths.

Sevika could feel her heart in her throat unsure how to respond. When she was younger she imagined having friends and having to comfort them but she never got there with anyone besides Ran and Ran isn’t a crier. So she pulls you closer and lays her head on yours. “If you didnt take me…do you think that would’ve been the day?”

“Priya I don’t know much…but I do know you get headaches after you cry so stop crying please.” She whispers as she wipes your tears. You try to even your breathes but you can’t. So there you sit in your accidental saviors embrace.

Ever since that day you’ve been attached to her hip. This life isn’t what you’d imagined but it’s yours. You often think back and try to see what you missed but it’s no use.

“Sev, whats your favorite thing about being a pirate besides killing people?” You ask as you two walk around a market. You feel like a true swashbuckler with your floppy hat, flowy fabrics and the gun Sevika taught you how to use.

“Watching my crew enjoying themselves.” She bites into an apple then hands it to me, “you all deserve nice things and that’s better than bloodshed…I guess.”

“Big ole’ softy…” you nudge your shoulder into her as you bite the apple.

“Don’t get use to it.” She mutters and you were going to tease back till you saw an amulet.

“Jaanu look!” You point but she stops, “what did you call me?” Her voice unsteady. “Jaanu? Oh I…well you call me priya so I wouldn’t to call you something sweet too…I don’t necessarily know what either means but I read it in one of your romance novels you like to hide.” You state this like it’s no big deal as you buy the golden amulet. Sevika can feel her face burning and her palms sweating. “Priya means darling and jaanu means my life.”

Stopping in the middle of a market is frowned upon as it slows the hustle and bustle of the environment but you could care less as you stare into her grey eyes. “Then here jaanu I want you to have this.”

You lean up on your tippy toes and clasp the amulet around her neck, “now you’ll always carry me with you.” With that you walk away to catch up with Ran but you look over your shoulder to see her lopsided smile.

You were too busy gushing to Ran about what happened that you weren’t watching your surroundings. You’re still getting use to being a pirate let alone an ex-royal. Technically people still want you dead so it was confusing when Ran tackles you!

Word got out about Sevika’s new lover and how she favors the beauty of a princess. There’s been more incidents at the docks lately but nothing this bold! Another crew mate covered you two as Ran and you prepared your guns.

Lost in the frenzy you got separated. You get a sense of deja-vú. A weapon in your hand you haven’t used on anyone before, fear churning in your stomach and your intuition screaming at you.

Sevika isn’t around to immediately safe you so you have to choose; fight or flight. You don’t need a repeat of what happened a year ago so you choose to gain cover and shoot.

Aim is sloppy but you hit enough people more to disarm them, not having the heart to kill anyone.

That’s when you feel a cold gun pressed to the back of your head. Panic is seeping into your body, what do you do in a situation like this? You aren’t savvy enough to fight them off.

You thought back to all the moments you made on the ship, how you just accepted this is your life. Now it’s getting taken away. You close your eyes thinking about how you wish to be in Sevika’s arms one more time, to tell her how you feel.

In an instance you hear a pop and you assume it was you but you feel a thick warm liquid flow down your shoulder. You look back and there she stood. Sevika always protecting you.

Quickly she rounded you and the crew up. “Are you hurt?” Sevika held your face, her grey eyes searching yours. Not wanting to waste another moment you kiss her.

You two fumble to your quarters, breathing heavily. She shakily takes your clothes off as she bites your neck. “Been wanting you for so long priya.”

“Take me then” you moan clawing at her clothes. Sevika pushes you down on the bed and pressed your things to your chest. Her thick tongue slowly licks and teases your cunt. “Jaanu please I want more” you mewl overwhelmed by the sensations.

“I’m going to take my time and you will listen. Now this might hurt for a second so breathe f’me.” She pushes one finger into you slowly and listens to your drawn out moan. “Feels good priya?”

“Fuck yes!” You moan as you bite your lip. Needing to do something with your hands you pull her hair. “Sevika more!”

“Can’t ever stop being a brat huh?” Always striving to make you happy she pushes another finger in. Her tongue wrapping around your clit, sucking harshly.

Broken moans is the only thing able to come from your throat as you cum into her mouth. “Are you okay, does anything hurt?”

“No more please” you whine although this position is hurting your thighs.

Sevika gently placed her bare cunt against yours and rubs. The satisfaction of that small amount of friction got you wet. “Fuck you feel so good” she moans into your ear.

“You make me feel so good” you lick the outer shell of her pierced ear causing a shiver to go down her spine.

Your hips grind up against hers and you feel yourself already on edge so you both slow down. The drawn out strokes had you both twitching and moaning. The mixture of your juices staining the sheets when y’all came.

Sevika leans her forehead against yours and says, “promise to sail the seas with me forever?”

“I do.”

───────┈ · ·

A/n: this is the longest fic I ever wrote and bitch I don’t wanna do this shit again🥹 in all seriousness I wanted to push myself and I can see the moodboard already!! I hope you all enjoyed this and criticisms is welcomed!!

Taglist: @manfuckthisimout @bambishaven @femme-historian

Dividers- @dollywons

[hongcherry]

pretty please (stain me red) || c.sc [2][m]

It's the night of your boyfriend's company award banquet and all you want to do is support him, but slurs from an attendee and your self-doubts begin to taint the night. Seungcheol offers to distract your mind in a way he's been wanting to do ever since he saw you getting ready earlier.

🍒 Pairing: businessWorker!Seungcheol x fashionDesigner!Reader (f) [Pretty Please couple] 🍒 Rating/Genres/AUs: M(18+)/Smut/Established relationship 🍒 Word Count: 3.7k 🍒 Warnings: Nicknames (Cherry, baby), dirty talk, breast play, spanking, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (be safe and stay educated!), rough sex, oral (m. rec)/face fucking, messy sex (!!!), gagging, squirting, cheol really likes reader's lipstick…, ultra soft ending 🍒 Author's Note: I didn't want you guys to wait too long so here's part two! And thanks again to @lovetaroandtaemin for beta'ing this! ♥️ You da best! Also, this has very minimal plot so if you just wanna read this part, go ahead 😉

pretty please masterpost | seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

part one

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty! (ageless/minors/blanks blogs will be blocked)

Seungcheol’s kiss is as desperate as a man seeking warmth after falling into a frozen lake.

“You looked so pretty tonight,” he mumbles into the kiss, walking you slowly backward from the door to his bedroom.

You smile and squeeze his shoulder blades in response.

The second he had stepped into his apartment, he had locked the door, tossed his keys in the bowl, and then hungrily captured your lips with his. You barely had enough time to set down his award on the entry table.

“The prettiest in the room,” he continues.

“Cheol,” you whine against his lips.

He chuckles and pulls away. His lips are slightly tinted from your red lipstick, which makes your desire grow. It’s a sight you never knew you needed.

“What? You don’t agree?” He smiles and cocks an eyebrow.

You bite your lower lip and shrug, not really agreeing but knowing Seungcheol won’t like your answer. And he doesn’t.

He tsks at you then leans down and lifts you over his shoulder. You gasp as your world gets turned upside down. Your hands land on his plush ass.

“Cheol! A warning next time?!” you huff halfheartedly.

He laughs and walks to his bedroom.

“Where’s the fun in that?” he asks, patting your ass on the way.

When you enter his bedroom, you expect him to toss you on the mattress, however, he walks past it and enters the bathroom instead. With careful hands, he lowers you to the floor facing him.

“What are we doing in here?” you ponder.

He pushes down the strap of your purse to grab it. You watch confused as he rummages through its contents.

“Did you leave something in there?” you ask even though you don’t recall holding anything for him. 

Seungcheol doesn’t answer and instead, lifts up your lipstick tube.

“Put this on,” he instructs.

Furrowing your brows more, you tilt your head.

“I’m already wearing it,” you say.

He hums and removes the cap.

“It’s faded,” he explains.

“Are we going out again?” you question and slowly take the lipstick from him.

“Just humor me, baby,” he says, grabbing your hips and spinning you to look into the mirror.

You give Seungcheol another puzzled look as you begin leaning over the counter slightly to reapply the makeup. Meanwhile, Seungcheol presses against your backside, making you feel his faint hard-on. He watches with rapt attention as you glide the product across your lips. Once done, you hold the tube up for Seungcheol to cap. He does so, then sets it off to the side.

“Want to tell me what this is about?” you ask.

He smiles, a hint of mischief in his expression. He cups your face with one hand and rubs his thumb against your cheek lovingly. 

He leans in to talk lowly in your ear, “Remember when I said your makeup was gonna be ruined tonight? I wasn’t lying, Cherry.”

Then his thumb glides against your lower lip, smearing your lipstick across your cheek. Your mouth parts in surprise.

“That’s just the start,” he says, then turns your face to kiss you roughly. Seungcheol glides his hand from your cheek down the column of your neck to squeeze your breast. His other hand soon joins in massaging your chest. His strong hands feel good on your soft breasts.

Seungcheol continues to kiss you as he reaches beneath the top of your dress to feel you directly. His fingers pinch and roll your nipples, causing your needy moan to get lost in his mouth.

You reach a hand back and start rubbing him through his suit slacks. Seungcheol nips at your lips in response, hips bucking into your palm. You can feel him get harder the more you rub and squeeze his clothed cock.

By the time he finally pulls away, you’re panting like a dog. He just smiles at you—lips redder from your lipstick—and adjusts the top of your dress so your breasts are exposed. He gives them one hard squeeze before moving your hand to rest on the counter.  

Seungcheol trails his hands up your arms and then down your back. He stops at your lower back and gently pushes you down. When you’re at the angle he wants, he trails one hand down to your ass while the other holds your waist. He gives your cheek one rough squeeze then smacks it.

You gasp as you’re jerked forward.

“You have no idea how badly I wanted to drag you into the bathroom and have my way with you,” he sighs. He reels his hand back and smacks your other cheek.

You bite back a moan and press your palms on the counter. The thought had crossed your mind too, but you resisted the desire. It wouldn’t have been an appropriate time.

“You know how many people stared at you tonight?” he wonders.

You shake your head. Sure, you had noticed two or three, but you didn’t consider that abnormal. People have been staring at you for years. You’ve gotten used to ignoring them—for the most part.

“It’s a good thing that event was for work,” he says, slapping your ass once more before grabbing your hips to pull you against him. His hips grind ever so slightly against your ass, pushing his growing erection into you.

You hold back the noises you want to make and stare at him through the mirror with want.

Seungcheol leans over and kisses the back of your head. As he trails the kisses down, he starts gathering up your dress. He slides the bunched-up fabric just above your ass. There’s no doubt he can see how wet your panties are.

He holds the dress up with one hand while the other glides between your legs. He slips his fingers beneath the dampened material and circles your entrance.

“I love how you’re already so wet, baby,” he says. “We’ve barely done anything.”

You hum and push your hips back for more. 

Seungcheol smiles, sliding one finger in as he leans over to connect your lips. You whine into the kiss.

Seungcheol pumps his finger a few times before adding another. He moves a little faster than he normally does at the start.

“Even if I wasn’t touching you, I can just hear how wet you are for me,” he mumbles against your lips. “Listen.”

His fingers slide in and out faster; the squelching gets louder. Embarrassment rises in your chest, but you also can’t help feeling turned on more by the sound. 

You moan and squeeze your legs together. Your hangs between your arms as Seungcheol switches movements back and forth, stretching your walls.

“Shit, Cheol,” you whimper.

Seungcheol retracts his hand and gives your ass another slap. The arousal on his hand leaves a wet spot on your cheek.

“I need to fuck you,” he nearly growls and quickly undoes the top of his suit pants. He slides them down enough to free his thick cock, rubs the tip along your slit, then slowly eases in.

You cry out as your eyes roll back, hips raising to meet him better. The slight pain from his cock stretching your hole makes you want to push him away, but you stay still because you know the pleasure will come soon. 

Seungcheol cups your neck and pulls you back so he can see you.

“Squeezing around me so good like always,” he groans in your ear as he bottoms out. He gives one shallow, rough thrust that makes you gasp.

“Do I feel good, Cherry?” he asks and rubs his thumb along your neck.

“Y-Yes,” you stutter.

“Have you been imagining this moment all night like I have? My cock buried in your sweet pussy?” he questions. You feel him twitch inside you. You like how just the thought of you can turn him on.

“Yes,” you repeat.

“Good.”

Seungcheol slides his hands down your sides and stops on your hips. He slowly pulls out halfway before slamming inside.

Your mouth falls open.

He does this two more times then picks up his pace and swiftly glides his cock in and out. He uses your hips as leverage, shoving you back as he thrusts forward. His big cock strokes your walls so perfectly that any thought besides Seungcheol fades away. Your focus is solely on how he feels between your legs.

“Nearly three hours of torture,” he huffs while still fucking you from behind. “Having to be near you and not able to touch you like I wanted to. All those eyes on you didn’t help.”

“Sounds miserable,” you mockingly say with a smile.

Seungcheol shoves his hips against yours and digs his fingers into your skin. Your smile disappears.

“Oh, you liked that?” he asks. “Were you hoping you’d drive me wild enough to fuck you in the bathroom?”

You bite your lip and push back against him.

“Naughty fucking girl,” he nearly growls. He slides out nearly fully and shoves his hips against yours harshly—trapping you between the counter and his big body. You try not to moan but fail.

“Wanted my cock that bad, huh? How about you show me that.”

Seungcheol pulls out, grabs your hand, and then the lipstick again. He tugs you from the bathroom into his bedroom. You follow on wobbly legs, forcing yourself to stay upright so you don’t fall.

He stops in front of his full-length mirror and undresses you; however, he leaves your heels on. Once you’re bare, he then lowers you to the floor. Your bodies are sideways to the mirror.

“Put it on,” he says and hands you the lipstick.

You don’t question him this time and turn to face the mirror, swiftly swiping on another layer. You cap and toss it to the side.

During that time, Seungcheol removes his clothes.

“Good,” he hums. “Now, show me.”

You almost deny his request, but decide against it. You’ve been just as eager as him. 

You shuffle closer, taking his heavy cock in your hand and silently marveling at his size. You lean in and kiss his shaft softly. When you pull away, there’s a red stain in the shape of your mouth. There’s something about it that makes your heart flutter.

“Fuck,” Seungcheol whispers above you.

Your eyes flicker up to see his mouth open as he stares down at the mark you put on him. That gives your confidence a boost, so you lean in and kiss his cock again.

“All mine?” you ask with a pretty smile.

“Yeah, baby,” he mumbles and sweeps your hair from your face. He cups the nape of your neck and slowly pulls you closer to his crotch. “It’s all fucking yours.”

Your smile widens. You pepper more kisses along his shaft until it’s covered with red. It’s a sight you store in your memory bank.

Seungcheol brushes his tip against your lips, and you give it a sweet kiss. He curses again, guiding you in more.

You smile and part your lips so his cock slides into your mouth. You can taste your arousal, which makes you squeeze your legs together. One hand raises to stroke what’s not in your mouth while the other rests on his muscular thigh.

You bob your head steadily, eyes drifting close as you focus on sucking his cock. Your tongue cups the underside of his shaft as you glide your head up and down.

Seungcheol’s breathing gets heavier as he cards his fingers through your hair. His hips buck to push deeper into your mouth, causing you to gag. Seungcheol moans and does it again.

Your hand on his thigh squeezes his muscles.

Seungcheol pulls away to let you breathe. He raises your chin to see you better and gives you a smile.

“You doing good, Cherry?” he asks, voice a little gruff.

You nod, pumping his cock with your hands as you catch your breath.

Seungcheol reaches down and wipes at the small string of salvia from your lips. You figure he’s smudged more of your lipstick as well.

“Can I fuck this pretty mouth?” he questions.

“Please,” you beg and kiss his shaft again.

He chuckles and shifts his hips to rub his cock along your lips.

“Using your manners like my good little baby,” he coos. “But you can do better.”

He moves away, making you frown. When you try to grab him, he simply holds you back.

“Cheol,” you whine.

“I know, baby,” he says with a faux pout. “You want my cock so bad, but I want to hear you ask for it.”

You huff and glare up at him.

He smirks, bringing a hand down and stroking his cock. Your eyes drop to watch him pleasure himself. While you love the sight, you want it to be your mouth around his thick dick and not his hand. 

“Fuck my mouth,” you mumble.

He chuckles and shakes his head, still pumping his cock leisurely.

“My pretty girl can do better than that, hm?” he taunts.

He moves closer and taps his tip against your mouth. Your lips part invitingly, but he doesn’t slide in. Instead, he traces your mouth slowly.

“I’m waiting, Cherry,” he says and gives your mouth another tap.

You swallow your pride and lock eyes with him.

“Pretty please, fuck my mouth, Cheol,” you say.

He smirks and pushes his tip against your lips to part them.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, then pushes his cock deep into your mouth.

Your eyes widen and your hands fly up to his thighs again, gagging. You didn’t expect him to go so far so fast. 

Seungcheol eases on his depth, barely hitting the back of your throat. He does this a few times so you’re used to it, then he pulls out.

“Relax and breathe through your nose,” he reminds you. “Tap my thigh if it’s too much.”

“Okay,” you reply.

When he smiles, it’s softer than before. He quickly leans down to kiss you. You follow him in a daze afterward, which makes him laugh and give you another kiss.

“Want your mouth for something else, Cherry,” he chuckles.

You bite your lip and nod. You sit back down, opening your mouth for him.

“Poor baby. Is this how badly you wanted me?” he questions, suppressing his moan. “You’re just willing to sit here with your mouth open, ready for my dick?”

He tilts his head and stares at you. He doesn't move or touch you; he simply admires. The more he waits, the more self-conscious you become. You begin to close your mouth and turn away, but Seungcheol quickly reaches out. He grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks enough to stop you. 

“Keep that mouth open, Cherry,” he murmurs. “Nice and wide to fit my cock.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Seungcheol’s always been a talker during intimate times, but something about him tonight is another level. And damn, does it make you wetter. 

Once you do as you’re told, he slides between your lips again with a deep groan. His hands move to rest on your head.

He starts slowly, gradually getting deeper until your nose is against his pelvis. You hollow your mouth and force your breaths through your nostrils.

He stays still for a moment, petting your head softly. Then after a few more seconds, he starts thrusting. His grip on your hair gets rougher as he picks up his pace.

The sound of him pumping his cock in your wet mouth and your occasional gags fill the bedroom. It makes your arousal pool between your legs.

He continues for a few more hard thrusts then suddenly pulls out to give you a break. You gasp and take a big gulp of oxygen.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “Look at you.”

He angles your head toward the mirror. Spit falls from your open mouth, sliding between your breasts, while tears stream down your cheeks. Your red lipstick has smeared more from the last time you’ve seen yourself. You look like an absolute mess. Meanwhile, Seungcheol looks breathtaking with his partially damp hair sticking to his forehead and a coat of sweat covering his wide, fit chest.

Seungcheol slips his tip in your mouth, pushing it against the inside of your cheek so it pokes out. He keeps your head still so you can see yourself.

“So fucking beautiful,” he hums. He slides the tip across the inside of your cheek until it slips from your mouth with a pop. He pats your face with his cock, wetting the area with your drool.

“My messy baby,” he continues, then pushes his tip in and along your cheek again. “So pretty with my cock stuffing your holes.”

You whine at his words, shifting on the floor and staring at his cock in your mouth.

“You like that, Cherry? Hm? My cock fucking whichever holes I want?”

You hum, mind hazy and only filled with lust and desire. You’d probably give him lip if you were clear-minded.

He chuckles and turns your face from the mirror to his body. He pushes his cock deeper without warning, causing you to sputter. His hips snap against your face, throaty moans slipping from his mouth as he fucks you quickly. You can feel spit accumulate around your lips and dribble down.

Your throat and legs are beginning to ache, but you can’t focus on that due to Seungcheol using your mouth harshly.

“’M close, baby,” he grunts and grips your head. He starts guiding your head as he slams his hips forward. You squeeze your eyes shut and drop your hands from his thighs, body weak.

After a few fast thrusts, he pulls out as cum spurts from his cock. Seungcheol grips your chin to keep your mouth open. A glob of spit falls from your mouth as Seungcheol pumps his cock empty. Cum lands in your mouth and on your cheeks—only adding to your messy and ruined face.

“Fucking hell,” he shudders, breathing heavily. He falls to his knees and pulls your face toward his in a heated kiss—obviously not caring that some of his cum is still on your tongue. This kiss is sloppy and wet and full of love.

“So so good to me,” he mumbles between kisses. “Let me be good to you.”

He sits you down in front of the mirror, resting behind you. He spreads your legs and circles your clit quickly. Your hips jerk at his already-bruising touch.

His other hand gathers up the salvia that trailed down your body and spreads it across your skin and up to your chest. His hand gropes your breast roughly, pushing it up and kneading it.

His fingers on your clit trail down and push two fingers in.

“Cheol,” you gasp and jump in his hold.

Seungcheol pumps his fingers fast in your dripping pussy. Squelching sounds instantly fill in the room. You squirm and throw your head back against his body.

“No, baby; watch yourself,” he says and moves his hand that was on your breast to angle your head.

Your eyes fall on his hand between your legs. He adds another finger and increases his speed. It feels so naughty to watch him stretch you out with his fingers.

Seungcheol nudges your head to tilt to the side as he latches his mouth to your neck. He nips at the skin and sucks, eyes unwavering from your wet cunt covering his hand in your arousal. You’re so focused on his hands that you don’t even think to tell him no hickeys.

Seungcheol trails his other hand to circle your clit, causing you to shriek and shut your legs. He wastes no time in pulling them apart and hooking them over his so you can’t move. He resumes fingering your cunt and rubbing your clit roughly, getting you closer to your high quickly.

Your body begins to shake as your whimpers get louder and more frequent.

“Let go for me, Cherry,” he murmurs against your neck.

Your hands grip his biceps as you buck your hips and let the rope in your tummy snap. You’re crying out and Seungcheol’s moaning as you squirt. He continues to rub your pussy roughly, making the liquid spray in different directions. It covers the mirror in front of you and the inside of your thighs.

“Cheol, Cheol, Cheol,” you whine hurriedly, hips stuttering as your orgasm courses through you.

“Fuck, baby,” he marvels with a low groan, slowing his hand and moving his other to press you against him. He gently glides his fingers through your soaked folds, causing you to buck your hips and whimper.

He spreads your pussy lips to see your fluttering hole.

“Have you ever done that before?” he questions and slips one finger inside. You gasp and squirm again. He grins and removes his finger. He rubs his hand along your thigh, making your skin shine as he spreads your wetness.

You shake your head, slumping your body on his chest and hiding your face against one of his arms.

He chuckles softly and carefully unhooks your legs. He adjusts you so you’re sitting sideways in front of him then he gives you a gentle kiss.

“Don’t be shy,” he says and cups your face with both hands. “It was really hot.”

”R-Really?”

He nods and kisses your lips once more. “I want to see if I can make you do it again.”

Not sure what to say, you nod and tuck your chin, leaning against his chest. He laughs and wraps his arms around your body.

He gently rocks you back and forth, letting you both take a breather from everything that just happened.

Seungcheol’s about to stand up when you lift your head. Your eyes are a little glossy.

You’re not sure what causes it. Perhaps it’s from all the released chemicals coursing through your body, but something in your heart snaps. Emotions you’ve pushed down break through their barriers and you’re over your head with a multitude of feelings.

Trust. Affection. Love.

It’s the first time you’ve allowed yourself to actually feel what’s deep in your heart. 

You know you need to say it.

“I love you, Seungcheol.”

Seungcheol inhales a sharp breath. His body melts and his eyes soften. You know Seungcheol already knows this, but this is the first time you’ve initiated saying it. It’s rare for you to even say it at all.

Seungcheol squeezes you tightly and kisses you with so much passion, it makes your head dizzy.

When he pulls away, he looks over the moon with his big dimpled smile.

“I love you too, Cherry. So much.”

Taglist: @christinewithluv, @lockburn-castle, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui, @aeerio, @cherrylovescheol, @toplinehyunjin, @verogonewild, @ellllsia, @gyuguys

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

How could you love somebody like me?

Pairing: f!reader x Javier Peña Words count: 3032 Rating: + 18, NSFW, MDNI. Summary: Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you. Tags/warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, Javi is still a DEA agent but it's a modern setting so the man has a smartphone. Reader is described having female genitalia and breasts, no other description of her is given, she doesn't blush and her hair is not described. Mention of alcohol, mention of cheating, Javi is a cheater, no happy ending, we will go through the man's phone (you're not supposed to do that but I never said my reader could do no wrong, right?), use of pet names (gatita which means kitten in Spanish, baby, darling), smut, angry sex, unprotected p in v (do better irl), cream pie, of course a little nipple play ‘cause it’s still my fic, toxic relationship, self doubt, mention of Steve, a huge pile of lies, Javi is bad at feelings, some reader’s thoughts marked in italics. I think it's all, let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: Written for @jolapeno 's "Dear-uary" challenge. This was my prompt, I struggled a little bit at first but I ended up having a blast writing this ❤︎ Heavily inspired by this song (from which the fic also takes its title), I heard it randomly on Spotify one day and I thought "wait, this is perfect for Javi!" and I ended up being obsessed with two more songs by the same artist. LOL Many thanks to: - @aurorawritestoescape , my beta, for her help and advice, she will probably dream of elephants because of me tonight hahaha Kate I own you a big one, thanks baby so much, I love you ❤️ - The person who basically pulled this out of my brain and supported me throughout the process, my precious, my peanut @joelmillerisapunk. 🥰 Love you so much it's ridiculous🥹 - @milla-frenchy for letting me blather about this thing some days ago. Love you, bb ❤︎ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any.

Edited - because I forgot to change the most important detail, of course. I’m not myself if I’m not doing a mess. Yay. It’s okay now.

“Why the hell am I here? Was I the only available hole this week?”

“No,” he whispers. 

“So what?” 

Javier came back and found you in the middle of the room.

You were brandishing his phone like a sword in the air, the banner of everything that was wrong.

His face went pale when he saw you like that. 

Eyes wide open. 

Mouth agape. 

He tried to say something but you immediately hit him with a vomit of words.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hiss under your breath, feeling your eyes sting.

Javier is a marble statue in front of you, his lips pressed together, his absent eyes not even looking at you, staring at a spot behind your shoulders, his arms abandoned along his sides. 

He seems anchored to the ground. 

His last words to you still burn on your skin like a fire you cannot extinguish.

A heavy silence between you fills the air of the room and makes it unbreathable. 

“Fuck, Javier, talk to me,” you whisper angrily.

You clutch his phone in your hands, so tightly that your knuckles are white from exertion, as if you were clinging to it to keep yourself from falling off a cliff. 

“You knew I was no good,” he says sternly.

You have been in this room for two days. 

Officially, Javier has to stay here because henchmen of one of the new drug lords in town are set on taking him out. 

Unofficially, he has you infiltrating the room. 

Typical Javier, spending his time under protection fucking someone. 

You foolishly almost believed it was romantic, until this morning. 

“So you’re trying to say that it’s my fault? Is that what you want to say? It’s my fault that as soon as I turn my back you go and stick your cock in someone else's pussy?” You don’t even have the strength to scream right now. Your voice comes out rancorous but low, hoarse, like a blown growl. 

Oh, you’re not going to accept being lectured by him, fuck no.

“No, I’m just saying -” he tries to explain and you glare at him, making the words die in his mouth.  

"What?" 

“Fuck, I'll never change,” he shrugs as if it were a truism that only you can't grasp.

His eyes shift to the ground, dull and absent.

“You don't change because you are convinced that you can't,” you admonish him, feeling anger rising from your chest. 

"That's not true," he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the crimson and gold carpet that lies at your feet.

“Yes, it is,” you insist, ”and you seem to like to think of yourself as an incurable asshole.”

He still fails to see the real problem, the elephant in the room that lives and thrives among you. 

"Then you tell me, if you think you know me so well,” he asks with defiance. 

“You bet I fucking know you,” you lash out. “You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well,  news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationships.”

“Don’t fucking analyze me,” he hisses, finally setting his eyes back on you. 

Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground.

You bitterly laugh, “Truth hurts, huh? I know something about it”. 

The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens, his nostrils flare, and his mouth tightens into a line so thin you think he’s about to burst. He stays quiet instead, eyes back on the damask carpet decoration. 

_____________

“Yes, Steve, I'm fine. That jerk won't find me here, and anyway it's full of police outside the door.” 

A pause and a sigh. 

”No, no one followed her, they don't know who she is.”

You stood behind the half-closed bathroom door listening. 

You smiled. 

His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling. 

Until you heard something else. 

A booming laugh. 

Water ran in the shower, tiny droplets coated the wall as the mirror fogged up.

“Whatever. Of course I'm still screwing around. At least, I was doing it before that asshole started chasing me,” his voice suddenly lowered so you took a chance and opened the door a little more. You wanted to make sure you heard right. 

Your hand trembled against the doorknob, you grabbed your wrist to hold it steady. 

“You idiot,” he scoffed. “Yeah, we'll be in touch.”

Suspicion. The black wing of a crow that had been wrapped around your heart for a long time.

But then why did it hurt so much? 

You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

He always places the phone with its screen down when you go out to dinner, softly smiling at it when he checks it after a few vibrations, telling you “it’s Steve” when you ask. 

But you know that crooked smile. 

He dodges when you ask him about his day "oh work, you know, just work." 

He tells you he is with Steve but you hear female voices in the background. 

Every time you try to confront him it always ends the same way, him telling you, “you’re paranoid, there’s no one else, just you, baby. You’re the only one I want.”

And then he fucks your doubts into oblivion.

You heard the thud of the phone on the blankets. And then Javier calling you. 

You swallowed the gall rising from the walls of your stomach and just smiled when he joined you in the bathroom and suggested that you shower together.

You wanted some proof before you charged him. 

If there was anything you had learned from being with him, it was that hard evidence was the key. So you played cool. 

He fucked you against the shower wall and you moaned into his neck. 

He licked your pussy like a man starved and you just bit your lips until you felt iron on your tongue.

He kissed you with that liar's mouth, and you let him.

And you fell asleep beside him, on the unmade bed of your uncertainties. 

This morning someone from outside called him into the hallway to report the latest movements of the guy who was looking for him. 

His phone was on the bedside table.

It was like a magnet, pulling your hand to it.

You were almost sure you knew his unlock code ‘cause you had watched the movements of his finger many times. 

You tried twice without success. 

The third time you let out a long sigh, visualized in your mind the movement one more time and unlocked it. 

You were in. 

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your fingers swiped and clicked on the screen. 

And there they were.

Dozens and dozens of messages and pics exchanged with 4 different women.

You scrolled through one of the chats with a certain Maria, who regularly sent him pictures of her tits and her legs spread wide, her pussy in the shot.

There was sexting, arranged dates, same promises he gave to you, things you never asked for but he kept repeating like a broken record. Even the same pet name. Gatita. 

Blood simmered in your veins, a jolt in your heart, throat dry. 

Your finger furiously scrolled through the chat, finding tons of messages he had sent her while he was with you.

You switched to another one and you found pretty much the same. And yet another, message after message containing flirting and explicit sex.  

“Oh Javi, you keep getting better and better with that cock of yours”

“My pussy needs you, darling, can you come over?”

“I can’t stop thinking about your huge cock dripping on me”

And the more you scrolled, the more a question formed in your brain, rumbling through your temples like a deafening drum. 

Was he ever sincere with you?

________

When he looks up at you again, you see it. A veil of fragility in the dense blackness of his gaze.

He looks almost helpless. “I know you tried,” he admits, ”You tried harder than anyone else.”

“Apparently it was no use,” you chastise him.

He doesn’t reply. 

Instead he comes closer and closer. 

You pull back, responding to his every step forward with a backward one. 

“Please,” he whispers. 

“No.” 

“Don't do that.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do,” you bark.

”I know...” 

“Fuck off, Javier, leave me alone.”

You pull back until you hit the wall behind you. 

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore. 

When your lips collide you let it happen. 

It’s like when you drink too much Tequila. 

It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable.

You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same. 

He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?” 

He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

He is a time bomb that explodes in your heart every time he touches you. So you keep doing it.

“Fuck,” you whisper against his lips. 

“Yeah…I know. I’m not worthy.”

And yet, you’re still here.

You let him peel off your every layer of clothing, to leave you naked and vulnerable in front of him. 

You do nothing when he undresses too. Hastily taking off his shirt, fumbling with the button of his jeans, nervous hands and short breaths.

It is like some mind fuck game, intoxicating, dangerous, capable of leaving permanent marks.

He lowers his jeans just enough to free his cock, no boxers. Always ready.

His hands run over your hips and you groan. 

His tongue slides over your neck, his eyes closed, his breath heavy and warm on your skin. 

He makes you cry, but you don't say no.

His lips latch onto your nipple and adrenaline rushes through your veins up into your head, hitting hard like a jackhammer.

You don’t pull back anymore, you push your tit into his mouth so eagerly you feel his teeth closing on your bud and you whine in pleasure. 

His growing erection leaks against your center. You are trapped. Not so much because you are between him and the wall but because you no longer know how to get him out of your head. 

Right now it doesn't matter how much it hurts. 

He slides his hands down your thighs and you know what he wants, without needing to speak. You wrap your legs around his waist. He kneels on the bed with you still clinging to him, you lie back on the soft blankets that smell of you both, arch your back and press against his cock. You folds splayed and dripping for him.

His fingers go up your rib cage, stop under your breasts and grasp there, he draws you back to him and your mouths collide again.

You let his tongue enter. You let the fleeting pleasure of this instant take over all the no's you know you have to say.

There’s no right kind of love here, this room is drowned in angry sex.

Angry at how you can never say no to him, angry at how he makes you feel, angry because you know that no one has ever fucked you the way he did, invading your body with a pleasure so addictive that it makes you sick. Angry because maybe he's right, he can't change. 

You break the kiss and bite on his shoulder, a small act of revenge that really does no harm compared to your bleeding heart. 

Your hands grasp on the golden skin of his back, leaving marks with your nails digging into it, your miserable attempt to leave marks on him in return.

You moan convulsively under his touch, your mouth wide open against his, your tongue desperately seeking him out. 

His hands tighten on your ass, lifting you slightly, his cock slides over your wet opening, a guttural sound comes out of the back of your throat without you being able to hold it back. 

You want him inside you. 

You need him inside you.

And it’s wrong, and desperate. It’s masochistic.

You don’t even care for his jeans’s zip scraping your skin.

The thin line between pain and pleasure is so blurred now.

It’s a pathetic shit show of need and urgency. 

You’d walk away from any other guy but Javier is the person you can never have just for yourself and at the same time he is the only one you want. 

He is the knife and the wound at the same time.  

When he asks “Whose pussy is this?” in his deep groaning voice that fucks directly with your brain, you can only reply “yours.”

Digging your nails deeper, biting more, wailing louder but just pleading with him.

You take his shaft in your hand and rub it against you in blind desperation, wetting it with your juices. 

He groans into your ears while his hand reaches for your nipple and his big strong arm holds you close.

You are sitting on his thighs, your legs crossed behind his back.

His fingers pinch your nipple as you don't stop stroking his big throbbing cock.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now. 

Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart. 

“Fuck me,” you groan. 

He pushes against your core, entering you with one deep thrust.

Your pussy is weeping so much it doesn’t even hurt.

You clench on him with all the strength you have, chocking his cock with your walls.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re gripping me so hard, baby. There’s nothing you want more than this, huh? Me fucking you raw?” 

“Shut up,” you hiss. 

He starts moving, pumping into you as his hand reaches for your clit, brushing it in circles.

You whine, clinging onto his back, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You can’t look him in the eye, you can’t face your own shameful reflection in his pupils, you can’t think of anything else than this pleasure firing your body, your limbs, your mind.

Your pussy never gets the memo when it comes to him. She just clenches, and cries and asks for more.

At the verge of your brink, when you’re so utterly overwhelmed you could swear, you’re about to jump out of your skin, you hear it.

It’s the softest whisper on your skin, so low you barely catch the words, “I love you” 

You cry a single tear that slides down the column of his neck, it could be mistaken for a bead of sweat so easily and Javier doesn’t notice it. But it’s there. You’re crying again.

You come, weeping.

Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.

But there’s no hope anymore.

You know you can’t go on like that.

You cried before. You argued before. It’s all useless.

A devastating orgasm shoots through you, leaving you without defense.

It’s the last thing you want but you need to get it over with. 

You lie on the bed, feeling his last twitches inside you, his cum dripping onto your walls, his cock pressing against that spot that belongs only to him.

He lies down on you, gently crushing you with his weight, his sweaty skin against yours, the smell of your orgasm filling your nostrils.

You’re hopeless and breathless. 

He's still inside you, like he doesn't want to leave. 

You know you have to. 

Eventually he shifts, lying on the other side of the bed muttering, “god, you really are something else.” He takes the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and lights one, taking a long drag.

“I'm not enough,” you want to scream looking at him through the cloud of smoke enveloping him. “Or maybe you're not, for me.”

When he is about to fall asleep, you get up. You pick up your clothes off the floor and put them on silently.

“Where are you going, gatita?” he grunts. 

Does he think he has solved it? Does he think you will forgive him as you did the other times? 

You don’t reply.

"You only ever tell me the truth when you think I won't hear it,” you type on your phone and send it to him, before coming out of the door without turning your back.

You leave him there, wondering, lost as he makes you feel.

There will be two broken hearts. 

You know he loves you and you love him.

He is convinced that he doesn’t deserve you and pushes you away every time you get close to his soul. 

He knows that you see him clearly; that scares him.

You are tired of fighting for the both of you.

You push the elevator button under the gaze of an unsuspecting policeman who urges, “Where are you going, miss?”

“I'm leaving.”

“Do you need someone to accompany you?” 

“No, thank you.”

“Someone could follow you,” he counters.

“No one knows me, you don't have to worry.”

You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist. 

None of this happens.

The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

Tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @almostempty , @probablyreadinsmut , @thundermartini , @gothcsz , @cas-readsandwrites , @harriedandharassed

Archive tag: @pedrostories

If you want to be added or removed just let me know! Thank you very much for reading❤︎

[shorthaltsjester]

obsessed with the fact that bell's hells won that fight explicitly because of their reliance on the gods. imogen and laudna both vocally saying 'thank you matron' at the beginnings of that combat as they use new skills or spells they've refreshed, orym wielding his sword, braius wielding his divine power, the entire party instilled with a hero's feast prepared by a cleric of the wildmother, imogen using power granted by the arch heart to bring down predathos -- an entity that has been described as welcoming her home, offering a womb she has longed to return to, her as its kin -- in imagery evoking the moment where the gods too decided to turn their backs on their home when faced with the monstrosity they were tied to, that they'd help bring about (something something, the arch heart gave mortals magic and imogen gave predathos its vessel). and the fact that bell's hells has slowly grown more reliant on the idea that predathos does not hunger for mortals -- something they in fact scoffed at when it came from liliana and ludinus' mouths -- predathos took several of them in his maw and tried to consume them.

viewing the story as one of a group of people predominantly blinded to the reality of their situations by the fog of their traumatized feelings -- as i've chosen to do for the sake of my sanity listening to them go on and on about gods that never gave them a lick in the same breath that they complain that the gods have too much power -- it is so extremely poetic that orym cut down ludinus with a sword blessed by the wild mother only for bell's hells to retread the path ludinus set up for himself. it is extremely ironic for a group of people who have implicitly raised complaints about the inherent manipulation that comes with the god's existence to come up with a plan that is explicit manipulation, demanding the gods become mortal or die [which to be clear, extremely interesting plan with interesting consequences that would be compelling to see! absolutely dogshit reasoning skills and moral assessment. but it is continually ASTOUNDING to me that a campaign that gets treated by some as the height of critical role's sociopolitical philosophical exploration features so many PCs who struggle (and not in the fruitful, developmental way but in the head-in-hands, can this student talk to the prof during office hours so I don't have to feel the second hand embarrassment of them making it obvious they haven't ever attended a previous lecture or done the class readings way) with ideas found in any first year philosophy course].

and to be clear this is not me devaluing the role of bell's hells in actually fighting the fight -- but all they've done is the same thing the gods were already doing, keeping predathos sealed, except now its in a volatile-at-best mortal who is on borrowed time re: being lost once again to its power. the only suggestion the hells have that this might be a justified and right course of action is the support of two gods -- one who has proven themself to be okay with the idea of death until it actually arrives before and the other one who is the only being on record who actually chose to be a deity -- out of a much larger pantheon, and their personal inclinations to agree with the ideology of a man who they have claimed to ardently disagree with but it turns out that was just because of his methods, I guess. scattershotting catalysts for change and hoping that change results in a Better World just. on its own (almost like. idk. fate) that you haven't even suggested practical (I'd even take theoretical ones atp) methods to achieve beyond Get Rid of a bunch of beings who are involved in actually extreme amounts of metaphysical and magical infrastructure isn't actually a course of action, its a course of chaos, and that is in fact worse than things staying the way they are if 'the way things are' that you keep referring to has only been shown to, currently, be that you and your friends feel sad and a little miffed that the gods you haven't offered anything to are only willing to do things for you when you serve them. unlike you, a group notorious for the way you do things for people you don't know without asking anything in return (this is sarcasm, if that wasn't clear).

anyway, I will continue to be frustrated by the lack of grounding for either (a) bell's hells having actually incisive and contextualized criticisms of the gods (either their own or from the actual mouths of the 'little guys' they are allegedly fighting for) or (b) more engagement with the fact that bell's hells as a party are not interested in making the morally right choice, they are at Best looking for a morally neutral choice. that said, if I ignore the actual story c3 has portrayed, the last few episodes have been a great wrap-up to a story about how singleminded trauma can make you and how that can lead you to place where there's no longer any Good choices to make, only potentially satisfying ones, where the question of who to satisfy takes the reigns over what is best.

[hypnobeauty]

A Chance Encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 4)

summary: a story about how you and hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. part 1 / part 2 / part 3 cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, fluff, slowburn, pre-squid game, slice of life. a/n: hello! i lied, forgive me; i said we'd get into the relationship this part, but i love me a good slowburn. i try to keep the chapters around 1,000 words so it's not too boring, so we end up having more parts. this one is a little short but the next will be bigger. enjoy xx as always, comments are appreciated ♥ taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia - comment if you’d like to be tagged.

part 4. a table by the window

“i don’t have much time,” you said, checking the watch on your wrist. “i need to be back at the office in…” you squinted at the numbers. “thirty-two minutes.”

hyun-ju smiled faintly, her fingers brushing the side of her coffee cup. “that’s more than enough.”

after she’d stopped you on your way out of the café, you’d followed her to the table by the window. the golden afternoon light softened the angles of her face, catching on her cheekbones and the delicate curve of her nose.

“your nose looks beautiful,” you said, meaning it. the words were out before you could second-guess them.

her hand lifted to her face instinctively, touching her nose with a soft laugh. “thank you.”

“i just wish you’d let me know you were okay,” you said, the words coming out quieter than you expected.

*

the silence from hyun-ju lingered longer than you expected, turning from a question into a quiet ache. at first, you checked your phone constantly, convinced that each buzz or notification would be her reply. but days passed, then weeks, and your hope started to wane.

for hyun-ju, the silence wasn’t intentional—it was survival. every time her phone buzzed with one of your messages, her heart leapt, and she’d reach for it instinctively. but then the doubts would creep in: what if i say the wrong thing? what if she’s just being nice? what if this doesn’t work out?

she’d type out replies, erase them, and set her phone aside, the weight of what she wasn’t saying pressing down on her chest. but the silence didn’t mean she wasn’t thinking about you. in fact, you occupied her thoughts more than she cared to admit. she replayed your conversations in her mind—the way you’d made her laugh, the easy way you spoke, the warmth in your voice when you said she deserved kindness.

more than once, she caught herself imagining what she’d say if she had the courage to text back. she’d want to thank you for being so thoughtful, for seeing her as a person when so many others didn’t. she’d want to ask about your life, your friends, your favorite things. she’d want to tell you how much it meant to her that you didn’t flinch at her truth.

you told yourself you weren’t upset—after all, you barely knew her. but the truth was, her absence left a hollow space you couldn’t quite fill. there was something about her that stayed with you, something you couldn’t shake.

sometimes, you’d catch yourself wondering why it mattered so much. poor ha-neul had been filling up her shoes as best friend dutifully, recovering from her surgery with you yapping in her ear about the situation.

you’d known ha-neul since college, a whirlwind friendship that started over shared ramen packets during late-night study sessions and grew into something solid and dependable. now, working together in the same advertising agency— you as a graphic designer and her as an advertiser— , she was the closest person in your life, a friendship filled with unwavering support and never stopping banter.

so when ha-neul teased you about hyun-ju, it didn’t bother you as much as it might have coming from someone else.

“if you like her, you like her. it doesn’t have to be a big deal,” she said one day as you walked back from a coffee run. it was a simple statement, but it stayed with you.

you hadn’t thought much about dating women before. the truth was, you’d always admired women—sometimes in passing, sometimes more deeply—but you’d never let yourself linger on those feelings. boys were “easier”. in college, there was a girl in one of your classes, a sculptor with messy hair and calloused hands, who had a smile that made your stomach flip. you’d convinced yourself it was just admiration.

then there was your coworker at your first internship. she’d always leaned a little too close when she talked to you, her laugh warm and easy, and you’d caught yourself wondering what it would be like to hold her hand. but you hadn’t let yourself think about it for long.

it was easier to dismiss those feelings, to chalk them up to fleeting crushes or passing thoughts. you never questioned it too deeply, brushing those emotions aside before they could take root.

some of it, you realized, had to do with other people’s opinions. growing up, it was easier to follow the expectations placed on you—to keep things simple and avoid any sideways glances or pointed questions. the world had a funny way of making you second-guess yourself before you even had the chance to figure things out.

but hyun-ju wasn’t a fleeting moment. she wasn’t something you could brush aside.

at first, you told yourself it was just her kindness that drew you in, or maybe the way she seemed both strong and soft at once. but the more you thought about her, the more you realized it was something else. she’d made you laugh, made you curious, made you want to understand her in a way that felt new and exciting—and a little scary.

unknown to each other, both of you wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. both of you felt the weight of what wasn’t being said. and in the quiet spaces of your lives, both of you found yourselves thinking about each other: on your commute, you’d glance out the window, wondering if you’d ever run into her again; on her walks to the grocery store, hyun-ju would imagine what it might be like to bump into you, to have a reason to talk to you without the pressure of responding to your messages. you kept her number saved in your phone, the unanswered texts a reminder of something unfinished and she kept her phone close, always expecting the next buzz to be from you, even though she hadn’t replied to the last.

by the time a month had passed, the silence between you had stretched thin, hyun-ju holding onto the hope that it wasn’t too late and you resigned to the way the situation had ended. for hyun-ju, the café was just another stop in her routine, a quiet moment to sip her coffee and crunch numbers for her next surgery. she wasn’t expecting anything to change. for you, the café was a small indulgence in the middle of a long day, a chance to take a break and treat yourself to something sweet and forget the lingering questions in your mind. neither of you knew that the moment you’d both been waiting for was about to arrive.

*

hyun-ju smiled faintly as she cupped her drink, her fingers brushing the edge of the warm porcelain. “i… really am sorry. i didn’t mean to make you feel ignored. i wasn’t sure how to…” she paused, exhaling sharply. 

you tilted your head, studying her face. “it’s okay. i get it, kind of.” you softened your tone, glancing at her. “but it would’ve been nice just to know you were alright. i… worried about you.”

hyun-ju’s gaze darted to you, then back to her cup. “i wanted to reply,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “but every time i tried, i’d just… freeze. i overthink everything. so i’d delete it and try again. and again.”

“that sounds exhausting,” you said gently.

“it is.” she chuckled nervously. “my therapist keeps telling me to stop overthinking, but that’s like telling water not to be wet.”

you perked up at the mention of therapy. “therapist? how long have you been going?”

“about a year,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “i started right before i came out. it was… rough at first, but it’s been helpful. she’s great—tough but fair. keeps me from spiraling too much.”

“that’s awesome,” you said, smiling. “i’ve always thought therapy was one of those things everyone should try at least once, even if their life isn’t falling apart.”

“right?” hyun-ju said, her lips quirking upward. “sometimes i just go to vent about how my friends are driving me crazy.”

you leaned forward slightly, curiosity tugging at you. “you must have good ones if they’re worth venting about.”

“i do,” she said with a small smile. 

“you work out often?” you asked, glancing at her arms, where her muscles shifted under the sleeves of her grey shirt. you hoped you weren’t being too obvious, but it was hard not to notice.

“pretty regularly,” she said, shrugging. “it helps me clear my head.”

you nodded, still trying to appear casual. “yeah, i could… kind of tell.”

her brow furrowed, then she caught the direction of your gaze and laughed softly. “it’s not that serious.”

“sure, it’s not,” you said with a grin, taking a sip of your drink.

“what about you?” she asked. “what’s been going on in your life?”

“let’s see…” you began. “oh! ha-neul had her nose surgery a few weeks ago, so i’ve been playing nurse-slash-therapist for her ever since. she milked it for all it was worth.”

hyun-ju chuckled. “that’s what friends are for, right?”

“absolutely,” you said. “we’re lucky we could work remotely during her recovery. it was a lifesaver. we’d crash at each other’s places and work on projects together, though it was mostly me fetching her tea and reminding her not to poke her face.”

“she’s lucky to have you,” hyun-ju said, her voice warm.

“and i’m lucky she puts up with me,” you replied.

the conversation flowed easily now, each question and answer peeling back another layer. but when you glanced at your watch, reality hit.

“oh no,” you said, straightening in your chair. “i’ve got to get back to work. i didn’t even realize how much time had passed.”

hyun-ju’s expression flickered with disappointment, but she nodded. “i don’t want to keep you.”

you stood, slinging your bag over your shoulder. you hesitated at the table, something unspoken hovering between you. “maybe we could meet again sometime?” you offered. “i feel like there’s still so much to talk about.”

hyun-ju’s eyes widened slightly. “you mean… like a date?”

you grinned. “only if you want it to be.”

for a moment, you thought she might backtrack, but to your surprise, she met your gaze and nodded. “okay. yeah. let’s do that.”

your heart did a little flip as you smiled. “great. i’ll see you soon, then.”

*

your walk back to the agency wasn’t as cold as it should be; you actually felt reinvigorated and with more energy to finish your day. but your return was later than intended, slipping into your desk chair with a cup of cold coffee in hand. ha-neul noticed immediately.

“you’re late,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “and that coffee looks sad.”

you shrugged, setting the cup down. “got distracted.”

she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “distracted by what?”

before you could answer, your phone buzzed on the desk. you glanced at the screen, and your lips curved into a smile as you read the text from hyun-ju.

"hi. there’s a traditioal korean restaurant near my place. would that work?"

ha-neul, always curious, leaned over before you could stop her. her eyes widened as she read the message, and then she turned to you with a grin so wide it almost hurt to look at.

“oh my god!” she squealed, grabbing your arm and jumping up and down like a kid. “is this really her?”

“ha-neul, calm down,” you said, laughing despite yourself.

“calm down? are you kidding? you have been yapping about her for a fucking month!” she said, laughing as she hugged you. “tell me everything!”

“later,” you said, still grinning as you typed your reply.

"sounds perfect. i can’t wait."

[genshin-impact-updates]

Genshin Impact Version 5.4 Special Program Recap

Travelers, here are the redemption codes for this Special Program!

The redemption codes are valid until January 26, 2024 23:00 (UTC-5), redeem them in-game or click the links below:

GISpecialProgram54

Mizuki0212Mizuki

AisaBathhouse

Thank you for your support, Traveler! We'll be bringing you more news on Version 5.4! Stay tuned!

*After using the redemption codes, the rewards will be sent to your in-game mailbox. The mail will expire after 30 days, so don't forget to claim your rewards in time.

[luvvictoria]

Be fucking for real

+ pairings. sukuna ryomen x f!reader

+ tags. romance, heavy (?) angst, dark romance themes, eventual smut (?)

+ a/n. Reblog with your favorite line! It would help me to grow my account !! Thank you in advance. Thank you so much for your support ! It means very much to me! Also if you want to take a little peek at the next chapter here is my ko-fi !!

+ summary. He's not the type to go for aftercare

The cold air of the penthouse seeped into your skin as you stared at the ceiling, blinking back the tears threatening to spill. It was always like this — a routine that felt like drowning in slow motion, leaving you gasping for something he never offered.

Sukuna’s presence lingered in the room even though he’d left for the balcony. The faint scent of sweat, his expensive cologne, and something darker, more primal, clung to the sheets. You turned your head slightly, catching a glimpse of him through the open sliding door. His broad back was illuminated by the city lights, shoulders relaxed as if he hadn’t just shattered you in a way only he could.

The cigarette between his fingers glowed faintly as he exhaled, smoke curling into the night sky. He looked untouchable out there, as if the world outside this penthouse didn’t exist. You knew better. Sukuna existed in a world of his own — a world where you were nothing more than a fleeting indulgence, a vessel for his desires.

You’d tried before. You’d begged for scraps of tenderness, for something resembling care. “Could you just… stay? Just for a little while?”

The memory of his scoff stung as much as his indifference. “Why? You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” he’d said, his tone laced with mockery.

But that was the thing — you never got what you wanted. Not really. Not from him. And yet, here you were, tangled in sheets that smelled of him, heart aching for a man who didn’t even spare you a second glance as he walked away.

Sliding out of the bed, you wrapped the sheet around your body, more for comfort than modesty. The cold marble floor sent shivers up your spine as you stepped toward the balcony. Sukuna didn’t turn to look at you when you pushed the door open, the sound barely registering over the distant hum of the city below.

“Do you ever feel anything?” you asked, your voice trembling but steady enough to reach him.

He took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling slowly before glancing at you over his shoulder. His crimson eyes gleamed, a mixture of amusement and mild annoyance. “Feel what?”

You clenched the sheet tighter around you, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “Guilt. Remorse. Anything other than… whatever this is.”

He turned fully now, leaning against the railing, the cigarette dangling between his fingers. “You knew what this was from the start,” he said, his voice cold, unyielding. “Don’t pretend you didn’t.”

Your chest tightened, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a boulder. He was right, wasn’t he? You’d walked into this with open eyes, knowing exactly who he was. Sukuna wasn’t the type to change, and you weren’t naive enough to believe you could be the exception.

But it didn’t stop the ache. It didn’t stop the hope that, maybe, just maybe, he’d prove you wrong.

“Why do you even let me stay?” you whispered, the question more for yourself than for him.

His smirk was sharp, cutting through the darkness like a blade. “Because you keep coming back,” he said simply. “And you’re good at keeping me entertained.”

The truth in his words was a slap to the face, leaving you breathless and reeling. You turned away from him, stepping back into the room, the warmth of his gaze — if you could even call it that — burning into your back.

As you sank onto the edge of the bed, the sheet pooling around you, you made a decision. Maybe you couldn’t change him. Maybe you couldn’t make him care. But you could stop letting him break you, piece by piece.

For the first time, the thought of walking away didn’t feel like a loss. It felt like freedom.

You stayed there for what felt like hours, staring at the floor, listening to the muffled sounds of the city below. The weight of everything settled heavily on your shoulders. The memories, the fleeting moments where you thought there might have been more, played like a cruel film in your mind. You thought about the times he’d pulled you close, not because he wanted to comfort you, but because it suited his mood. The times his touch felt almost gentle, almost loving, but always fell short of what you needed.

Tears finally spilled over, hot and angry, streaking down your face as you clutched the sheet tighter. You hated how much power he had over you, how even his absence in the room made you feel like you were suffocating. You hated how you’d let yourself believe, even for a second, that you meant something to him.

The sound of the balcony door sliding shut broke your thoughts. Sukuna walked back into the room, his expression unreadable. His eyes swept over you briefly before he headed toward the dresser. He didn’t say a word, didn’t ask if you were okay, didn’t acknowledge the tears still wet on your cheeks. It was as if you were a ghost, invisible and insignificant.

“I’ll be gone for a few days,” he said flatly, pulling a shirt over his head. “Don’t wait around.”

The finality in his tone was like a dagger. He didn’t even bother with an excuse, didn’t try to soften the blow. He never did.

Something inside you snapped. The quiet, desperate hope you’d clung to for so long crumbled, leaving only raw, aching anger in its place. You stood, the sheet falling away as you faced him fully.

“You’re a coward,” you said, your voice trembling but loud enough to stop him in his tracks. “You act like nothing matters to you because you’re too afraid to feel anything real. You use people, you push them away, and for what? To prove you don’t need anyone? You’re pathetic.”

His eyes narrowed, the room suddenly heavy with tension. For a moment, you thought he might respond, might lash out, might say something that would cut you down. But he didn’t. He simply stared at you, his expression unreadable, before turning and walking out of the room without another word.

The sound of the door clicking shut echoed in the silence, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t cry. You didn’t chase after him. You didn’t crumble under the weight of his indifference.

Instead, you took a deep breath, the cold air filling your lungs, and began to gather your things. This time, when you left, you knew you wouldn’t be coming back.

[someonegoood]

THE CORPORATE EQUATION chapter 2 ✫ jeon jungkook

a miscommunication in HR leads to a near-PR disaster when an important client’s demands clash with employee well-being. Jungkook’s rigid solutions exacerbate the problem, and you are forced to step in.

CONTAINS: corporate!au, ceo!jk, headofhr!reader, grumpy x sunshine, slow burn, accidental vulnerability, mutual pining, emotionally unavailable jk, bickering turned bonding, fluff & angst :)

NOTE: this will be a mini series. thanks so much for reading!! this work is not revised and english is not my first language :)

miiini taglist @haru-jiminn @parapiop7 @radcustoms @minniejim <3

my main masterlist! ❀ the corporate equation masterlist!

❀ chapter two: crossing boundaries

It was 7:00 a.m. The first sign that something was wrong came in the form of a frantic email. You were reviewing quarterly engagement reports when a notification pinged on your laptop.

Subject: URGENT Client Escalation

The email was from the PR team, outlining an issue with one of the company’s most important clients. Somehow, a key detail in the client’s contract had been overlooked by HR—an agreed-upon timeline adjustment had not been communicated to the production team. Now the client was threatening to pull out unless the project was delivered immediately.

You felt the familiar rush of stress prickling at your temples. The issue wasn’t just the oversight—it was the solution Mr. Jeon had already accepted: doubling employee workloads to meet the client’s demands.

For years, you had championed policies to ensure work-life balance. The HR team trusted you to advocate for them, and you weren’t about to let this crisis undo all that trust. Still, Jungkook’s reputation preceded him. The company’s young, exacting CEO wasn’t known for bending to opposition, especially when it came to business decisions.

“Let me guess, Mr. CEO decided to plow through without considering the fallout,” Soojin said, leaning over your desk. Her casual tone didn’t mask the genuine concern in her eyes.

“You guessed right,” you replied, sighing. “But I’m not going to let him ruin our team.”

“Good luck with that,” Soojin muttered as you grabbed your clipboard and headed for the conference room.

That’s how you found yourself walking into a room full of department heads besides Minho, your co-worker, ready to advocate for a solution that wouldn’t burn everyone out in the process. The absence of his usual level-headed support only heightened your nerves, but you shook it off.

Once inside, the tension was already palpable. As the head of HR, you were no stranger to high-stakes situations, but this one felt particularly personal. Employee well-being wasn’t just a talking point for you—it was the foundation of your work.

"We will win, alright?" Minho sat toward the back, offering you a reassuring smile but you scanned the room, noting the familiar faces of department heads.

Jungkook entered moments later, exuding his usual aura of control. His sharp gaze immediately found you, and you braced yourself. His assistant, Hajun, followed closely behind, setting a sleek portfolio in front of him.

“Let’s hear it,” he said curtly, gesturing for you to explain. You stood, clearing your throat before launching into your plan.

“We can revise the timeline and propose alternative solutions to the client that don’t hinge on doubling employee workloads. It’s a balanced approach that maintains employee morale while still delivering results.”

Jungkook frowned, his arms crossed. “The client doesn’t want alternatives. They want what they were promised, on time.”

“And rushing the team to exhaustion is your solution?” Minho countered.

“Burned-out employees won’t give you their best, and they certainly won’t stay loyal to this company. Then what?” You said.

Jungkook’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he’d snap back. You braced yourself for the inevitable clash, but before he could respond, Minho’s voice cut through the tension like a breeze.

“Okay, let’s not turn this into a cage match,” he said, with a lighthearted laugh. “How about we hash this out before someone flips the table?”

Minho’s grin defused some of the tension, and you shot her a grateful look. But Jungkook’s glare remained fixed on you, the battle far from over.

“Soojin should be here for this,” Jungkook said, glancing at the empty chair beside you. “Where is she?”

“Caught up with another issue,” you replied, your tone firmer than you felt. “But I can handle this, Jungkook.”

His eyes narrowed at the use of his name without the customary "Mr. Jeon," but he didn’t comment. Instead, he leaned back. "This is not what I asked for."

Unlike Mr. Jeon, most department heads seemed receptive—until Joohyun, the head of finance, cut in.

“This is impractical,” she said with a smirk. “The client won’t care about employee well-being if their deadlines aren’t met. HR isn’t exactly known for its strategic prowess.”

Her words stung, but you steadied yourself, opening your mouth to respond.

Before you could get a word out, Jungkook spoke up, his voice cold and firm.

“That’s enough, Joohyun,” he said, silencing her with a glare. “This company wouldn’t function without HR, and their strategy is the most reasonable approach we’ve seen so far. Let them do their job.”

The room went quiet, the weight of his words lingering. For the first time, you saw a glimmer of support in Jungkook’s eyes—a brief acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, you knew what you were doing.

The hours after the meeting dragged like molasses, each moment more draining than the last. While you’d won a small victory in convincing Jungkook to let you move forward with your plan, the day’s battles were far from over.

The PR team descended on the HR office like a storm shortly after the meeting. You barely had time to glance up before Eunji, the PR team lead, plopped a thick stack of papers onto your desk with an audible thud.

“Care to explain how we’re supposed to salvage this without throwing the team into overdrive?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I don’t know, Eunji,” you said, your tone carefully even. “Maybe by working with HR instead of trying to steamroll over us?”

Eunji rolled her eyes, arms crossed. Behind her, a few other PR associates snickered. “Look, we get it—you’re all about employee hugs and yoga sessions, but some of us have real deadlines to meet.”

You inhaled sharply, willing yourself to stay calm. Dohyun intercepted. “Protecting employees isn’t just about ‘hugs,’ Eunji. If your team collapses from burnout, how are you going to meet any deadlines?”

One of Eunji’s team members muttered something under their breath, prompting more snickers. Soojin, who had been quietly typing at her desk nearby, finally stood up, placing her hands on her hips.

“Maybe if PR didn’t miss the communication in the first place, we wouldn’t even be in this mess,” she said, her voice sugary sweet but sharp enough to cut.

The PR team bristled, but Eunji pulled them away with a dismissive wave. “Fine, let’s see if your little plan works. Don’t screw this up, sunshine.”

You let out a shaky breath once they were gone, rubbing your temples. Soojin and Dohyun handed you chocolates from their drawer without a word, and you shot them a grateful smile.

By the time most of the office had cleared out, you were still at your desk, surrounded by drafts and scribbled notes. Your plan was solid, but getting it ready for client approval would take hours more.

You were so focused that you didn’t notice Jungkook approaching until his voice broke the silence.

“You’re still here.”

You jumped slightly, looking up to see him leaning against the doorframe of your office. His suit jacket was gone, and his tie was loosened—a rare, almost humanizing sight.

“I could say the same to you,” you said, turning back to your screen with an edge to your tone. “What do you need?”

He didn’t answer immediately, instead walking over and scanning the mess of papers on your desk. “You’re putting a lot of effort into this.”

“Well, someone has to,” you muttered, your irritation still fresh from the way he’d treated you in the meeting earlier. You expected him to bite back or make some condescending remark, but instead, he surprised you.

Jungkook pulled up a chair and sat beside you, his movements deliberate but uncharacteristically nonchalant. “Let me help,” he said simply.

You blinked, caught off guard. “You? Helping HR? Did I hit my head at some point today?”

He rolled his eyes, clearly uninterested in your sarcasm. “The faster we fix this, the faster we avoid another PR disaster.”

Your mind whirred. This was the same man who had dismissed your plan so curtly in the meeting, barely giving it the time of day. And yet, when Joohyun had criticized you, he’d stepped in to defend you with a ferocity you didn’t expect. The contradiction in his actions left you confused and more than a little annoyed.

After a beat, you handed him a stack of notes, though your hesitation lingered. “Fine. Just... don’t make it worse.”

For the next few hours, the two of you worked in an uncharacteristic rhythm. You were still simmering with unspoken frustration, but you couldn’t deny Jungkook’s methodical efficiency. He asked sharp, focused questions, cutting through fluff and refining your ideas in a way that almost impressed you. Almost.

At one point, during a lull, he leaned back and glanced at you. “You’re passionate about this,” he said, not unkindly. “Why?”

You hesitated, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. But the sting of his earlier dismissal was still fresh, and it made you hesitate.

“Does it matter?” you countered, your voice sharper than you intended.

His brows furrowed slightly, but he didn’t back down. “I think it does.”

With a sigh, you admitted, “Because I know what it’s like to feel overworked and unseen. I’ve been in jobs where I was just... a number. I swore I’d never let that happen to anyone if I could help it.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze thoughtful. “I didn’t expect that.”

You tilted your head, your frustration bubbling over. “Why are you even still here? You dismissed me in the meeting like I didn’t know what I was talking about, but then you defended me like you cared. Why?”

He exhaled, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Because Joohyun was out of line,” he said after a pause. “And because... I didn’t dismiss your plan because it was bad. I dismissed it because I didn’t think it could work.”

You blinked, his admission catching you off guard. “So, what you changed your head?”

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t ask for this job. My father’s health forced me into it, and now... everyone expects me to know what I’m doing. Sometimes, I feel like I’m just trying to keep my head above water. I thought your plan was risky, but then I saw how you fought for it, and I realized... maybe you see something I don’t.”

His vulnerability left you momentarily speechless. For a moment, the hard edges of his persona softened, and you saw him as more than just your stubborn, workaholic CEO.

“You’re doing better than you think,” you said quietly, the tension in your voice giving way to something softer.

He looked at you, his expression unreadable, before turning back to the notes. “Let’s get this finished,” he said gruffly. But the silence that followed felt lighter, the unspoken understanding between you lingering in the air.

You couldn’t resist the opportunity. “So, CEO Jeon can admit when he’s wrong, huh?”

Jungkook’s eyes snapped to you, and you grinned, trying to hide your amusement behind a half-smirk.

“Don’t get too carried away,” he replied, though his lips twitched. “I didn’t admit anything. Just—acknowledged a change in perspective.”

“Right,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “So you don’t think I’m the genius behind this whole plan?”

Jungkook rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the ghost of a smile. “Keep talking like that, and I’ll leave you to handle the PR team alone.”

“Good luck with that,” you shot back, your tone light but filled with a touch of challenge. “You can’t keep up with me.”

He leaned back in his chair with a smirk, crossing his arms. “We’ll see about that.”

The week following the tense meeting had flown by in a blur of deadlines and intense focus. But amidst the whirlwind of emails and conference calls, you noticed a subtle shift. Employees seemed more engaged, and the PR team had been surprisingly cooperative.

It wasn’t until Friday midday that you received an unexpected email from Jungkook. The subject line simply read: Team lunch, my treat.

The moment you clicked it open, you saw his message:

"I know things got a little heated last week, but I want to take a moment to properly thank the HR team for handling the issue so well. You guys really pulled it off. Let’s do lunch together to celebrate."

You blinked, surprised but intrigued. Was this an attempt to redeem himself after the way he’d dismissed you in front of the directors? Or was this just his idea of a token gesture?

Later that day, you and your team gathered in the HR office, the air filled with an unusual sense of anticipation. Soojin, always the first to perk up at free food, was already checking the time, her phone in hand.

“Is this real?” Soojin asked, eyebrows raised. “The CEO wants to take us to lunch?”

“You mean... after everything that happened?” Minho said, his tone skeptical but intrigued. “I guess we did do a good job.”

Minji, who had been quieter than usual, leaned back in her chair. “I didn’t think he’d actually do it. But hey, free food, right?”

Dohyun smiled, leaning in with a teasing smirk. “I think it’s more of a CEO redemption tour. Let’s see how much he’s willing to dish out.”

You couldn’t help but smile at their banter, even as you reflected on Jungkook’s sudden change of heart. Was this his way of softening the corporate image he’d cultivated so carefully?

Moments later, the door to your office opened, and there he was. Jungkook, wearing his usual sharp suit, but this time his tie was a bit looser, and his posture seemed less rigid. He gave a slight nod toward the group as he stepped inside, his gaze landing on you.

“Ready?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

The team exchanged curious glances, but they nodded, following him out of the office and into the elevator.

The restaurant he’d chosen was an upscale yet relaxed spot, with warm lighting and modern decor. A reserved table waited for you in the corner, a large round table that felt more personal than corporate. As you sat down, Jungkook took a seat at the head, but this time, the air wasn’t filled with tension. The casual vibe of the restaurant, combined with his slightly more laid-back demeanor, made the whole situation feel less formal.

“I’m not a big fan of these ‘team appreciation’ things, but I know when I’ve been outmatched,” Jungkook began, his voice still carrying that authoritative tone but with a touch of lightness. “You all handled the client issue far better than I anticipated, and I want to take this moment to thank you for that. Soojin, Dohyun, Minho, Minji... and you too,” he added, looking directly at you. “I know it wasn’t easy, and I appreciate your patience with me.”

You met his gaze, surprised at how genuine he sounded. His eyes weren’t as cold as usual, and there was a subtle vulnerability there—like he was trying to make up for something.

The team exchanged surprised looks, and Soojin, ever the one to break the ice, grinned. “Well, I’m glad to see the real CEO Jeon has made an appearance. Maybe he’s not as bad as we thought, huh?”

Jungkook smirked, his expression flickering with amusement. “I can’t help the fact that I have standards.”

Minho raised an eyebrow. “Standards? You mean the ones that almost had us working ourselves to the bone?”

Jungkook’s face flickered with something almost like regret, but he quickly masked it. “I was wrong about the approach. You all proved me wrong.”

Dohyun leaned forward, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. “Well, if you’re asking for forgiveness, you’re going to have to buy us dessert.”

Jungkook let out a short, dry laugh. “Fine, but only because I can’t let you keep making fun of me for this.”

As the lunch wore on, you found yourself enjoying the conversation, the occasional teasing, and the chance to see your team—his team—connect on a more personal level. Jungkook was still a far cry from being the warmest leader, but in this moment, he was something closer to approachable.

“So,” Soojin said, nudging you with a sly grin. “How about we plan the next one? This was a nice change of pace.”

You looked at Jungkook, who was sipping his drink with a relaxed air, and smiled. “We’ll see. I think someone has to redeem themselves more than once to really earn it.”

Jungkook smirked. “I’ll take that challenge.”

previous / next

[starmatzz]

𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐰/𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

bf!wooyoung x gf!reader | bit of pray/hunter kink

author's note: hii! thank you so much for all the notes and support! although it's not entirely my cup of coffee to write "x reader" stuff, i see that you guys like it, which motivates me :)

“Alright, you go hide, and I’ll count,” Wooyoung said with a mischievous smirk.

It was a lazy Saturday, the kind of day spent either engrossed in your own hobbies or tangled up together on the couch watching movies.

That is, until Wooyoung came up with the bright idea to play hide and seek. At first, you rolled your eyes, playfully dismissing him, but how could you say no to your adorable boyfriend?

As soon as Wooyoung closed his eyes and started counting, you glanced around the apartment, determined to find the perfect hiding spot. There was no way you were going to let him win.

You quickly made your way to your shared bedroom, slipping inside the closet and crouching down. Carefully, you pulled the door almost shut, leaving a small gap just big enough for you to peek through. Your heart raced with excitement as you tried to steady your breathing, determined to stay hidden.

“Twenty eight..twenty nine..thirty! I’m coming!” Wooyoung’s voice rang out, teasing and full of excitement.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, finding the whole situation amusing. It was silly, but it was fun—exactly the kind of thing that made being with Wooyoung so special.

However, as you listened to his footsteps echo through the apartment, your heart began to beat faster. Each step felt closer, and the anticipation of being found was starting to get to you. You bit your lip, trying to keep completely silent, but you could already feel the tension building.

“Where are you? Come out~” Wooyoung’s playful, sing-song voice echoed through the apartment, sending a wave of butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

His tone was teasing, almost mysterious, and you could tell he was thoroughly enjoying himself. The adrenaline coursed through your veins as his footsteps grew louder, closer. It felt like your hiding spot was suddenly far too obvious, but you stayed completely still, determined to outlast him.

“My sweet doll… come out, I won’t bite~,” Wooyoung called out, his voice dripping with playful mischief.

Through the narrow gap in the closet door, you caught a glimpse of the bedroom door swinging open, reflected perfectly in the mirror across from you. Your breath hitched as you watched his figure step into the room.

“…Maybe,” he added with a sly chuckle, his footsteps slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. He moved with a mix of confidence and playfulness, scanning the room as if savoring the chase. You pressed yourself further into the shadows, your pulse racing as you tried to keep perfectly still.

You clamped a hand over your mouth, desperately trying to steady your breathing as your heart pounded wildly in your chest. Suddenly, the thought of him finding you sent a nervous thrill through your body—you didn’t want to be caught. Not yet.

The sound of Wooyoung whistling filled the room, a soft, haunting tune that only heightened the tension. It was as if he was toying with you, drawing out the suspense on purpose. His movements and the teasing sound of his whistle made it feel like he was closing in, and every second felt like an eternity.

Suddenly, Wooyoung’s whistling stopped, and the silence that followed felt deafening. You froze, your heart skipping a beat as you felt his gaze land on the closet—reflected in the mirror.

Your eyes widened in panic, watching as he turned to face the closet. A sly smirk tugged at his lips as he took slow steps toward it, like he already knew exactly where you were.

Your breath caught in your throat, every nerve in your body on edge as the gap in the door grew darker with each step he took.

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if somehow that would make you invisible, shielding you from his inevitable discovery.

The silence was oppressive, stretching out endlessly as if time itself had stopped. You couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore, and the absence of sound was almost worse than hearing him approach.

All that filled the void was the frantic pounding of your own heartbeat, so loud in your ears that you were certain he could hear it too.

You were so lost in the stillness, so focused on calming your racing heartbeat, that you didn’t even notice the closet door creak open.

When you finally opened your eyes, there he was—Wooyoung standing in front of you with that signature smirk, his eyes gleaming with triumph.

“Found you, doll~,” he purred, his tone dripping with playful satisfaction.

Wooyoung’s hand gently gripped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. His eyes sparkled with mischief, his smirk only widening as he took in your expression.

“What am I gonna do with you now, hm?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, sending a shiver down your spine. His presence felt overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but feel a little breathless under the weight of his gaze.

You swallowed hard, the tension between you two thick in the air. Wooyoung leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“Guess you’ll find out soon enough.” 

[witherby]

ALREADY?? UH, PRAYING FOR YOU!!! YEAH YOU CAN DO THIS!! Let the voices win frfr. . .

Can't wait to read it... Mweheheh..

★🍋‍🟩

Mother Hen, A/B/O Edition

Or: the one where Hal reminds the Batfamily they are loved in little ways.

"Mornin, Alfred," Hal yawned, barely conscious as he shuffled into the dining room.

"Good morning, master Hal," Alfred greeted. He watched Hal slowly sink into a chair and placed his food in front of him. "Drink options this morning are fresh-squeezed orange juice, a fruit smoothie, or a glass of milk."

"Hmm..." Hal blinked heavily and gently grabbed Alfred's arm before the beta would withdraw from setting his plate down. He brought his wrist to his face and gingerly nosed it, breathing in the scent of jasmine tea with a tired smile. "Um...Juice s'fine...thanks a million..."

"Of...of course, sir." Alfred pulled his arm back when Hal let him go, disappearing into the kitchen with pink ears.

--

"Alright, got all my things. This weekend was fun, but I gotta head back to Blüdhaven. The precinct has been leaving me a concerning number of voicemails, so I can only imagine the circus I'm gonna find."

Dick shrugged his duffel bag over his shoulder and gave his brothers all a quick squeeze or noogie. Bruce gave him a hug, briefly encompassing him in dark chocolate, and told him to stay safe. Hal did the same, but gently nosed the gland at his throat, pushing packsafelove through his usual, airy scent.

"Go give 'em hell, kid," he said, drawing back. Dick pressed a hand over his neck, feeling a flush of warmth, and almost shyly bid goodbye to Hal before he left, clearly unused to such easy Omegan affection.

--

Jason awoke with a scream in the middle of the night, vision briefly overcome with green, green, green, and darted out of his room before the others could come in and crowd him. His scent left a trail of thick, bitter, omegan fear behind him, until he made his way into the library and tucked himself behind a bookshelf to calm himself down.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight and clapped his hands over his ears, trying to block out the sound of his own, ragged breathing. Everything felt like too much. His skin felt too tight. His body felt too heavy. His mind felt too busy. He needed it all to stop. He needed a grounding tool. He needed —

Jason sucked in another sharp gasp, and scented a calming, summer breeze. It was faint and unobtrusive, somewhere distant, but he latched onto it like a faint beacon of light amongst a raging storm. He chased that scent like a lifeline, until his skin stopped feeling tight and his body stopped feeling like lead and his mind finally started to slow and settle.

Then he crawled back out from the bookcase and approached Hal from where he was lounging in a chair across the library, an unobtrusive but clear position of support whenever he wanted it.

He didn't have to ask before Hal's arms opened up, wrapping tightly around Jason, and he scented his neck and cheek until the last of his tremors died off.

Safelovesafe, Hal pushed into his scent. Safelovesafe.

Jason rested his head on Hal's shoulder, trusting him to support his weight. Lovesafepack.

--

Tim hadn't managed to get out of the manor fast enough to avoid Hal snatching him up and nesting him during his pre-heat.

"This can't be helpful to you," he muttered, squirming from under the three layers of blankets Hal had burrito'd him into. "I'm a beta, remember? I can't smell any more interesting than a ream of paper."

"You're one of my pups. Shut up and deal with it," Hal said, throwing yet another blanket on top of Tim, before spooning his bundled body to his chest and nosing at the back of his neck so self-soothe. "You smell like coconut, by the way. And me, now, but your base scent is coconut."

"I don't own anything with coconut in it..." Tim mumbled. "Hey, I don't have to stay here, right? I'm gonna get heat stroke if the answer is yes."

Hal just kept nosing at the back of his neck. Tim tried to ignore how nice it felt and relented to his fate with a sigh.

--

Damian pushed his father's hand away when he went to feel his temperature and curled up further into his blankets. He already knew he was feverish; there was no need to touch him to confirm it.

"I think you're gearing up to present, buddy," Bruce told him. "I was thirteen when it happened to me, too, and your scent's been changing the past few days."

"Great. Is it gonna be this uncomfortable the entire time?" Damian groaned. "I'm hot. I'm cold. I'm hot again. I'm thirsty. Everything hurts. I think I'd rather fight off a hundred assassins in the League again."

"This should help," Hal said, knocking on the door frame to announce himself before walking in. He was holding a bundle of clothes, several articles plucked from everyone in the house, and started tucking them under Damian's blankets. "What do you think you're gonna be?"

"An alpha, obviously," Damian practically sneered, "like father. I have all the traits and qualities of a pack leader like him. What a stupid question."

Hal and Bruce exchanged a glance over Damian's shivering body, communicating wordlessly in the way only long-time lovers could. It was sickening and annoying.

"Spit it out," he hissed. He caught a whiff of cedar and followed it to Dick's hoodie, bringing it to his face and nuzzling into it. He was about to present so he could afford to do embarrassing things for a short time, like find comfort in the scents of his pack mates.

"Nothing, champ. Just hope you feel better quickly," Hal said, reaching down to ruffle his hair. "It shouldn't last more than a day."

"And if you need anything, someone's always gonna be outside the door keeping track of you," Bruce said, leaning down to nose against his temple gently. The comforting scent from his alpha helped abate some of the discomfort Damian was feeling, and he almost reluctantly nuzzled back before rolling over.

Two sets of footsteps made to walk out of the room, but Damian sniffed around his nest and frowned.

"Jordan," he called. Hal stopped and immediately returned to his bedside.

"Yeah?"

"...there's...nothing of yours is in here," Damian muttered, avoiding eye contact as he thrust his hand out expectantly. "Hand your shirt over immediately."

Hal laughed, but it wasn't mean. He obediently tugged off the t-shirt he was wearing and handed it over, and Damian added it to his collection before settling back down.

"You may go," the boy muttered. Hal hummed and grabbed his wrist again, nosing against it, and Damian didn't put up any resistance despite the flush staining his cheeks. "I'm not a babe in need of reassurance! Leave me!"

"Sure thing, kid. I'm taking the first shift, so holler if you need anything," Hal said.

Damian waited until he left the room before bringing his wrist to his neck and rubbing the Lantern's scent against his glands. It smelled like lovepacklove.

Maybe being an Omega wouldn't be so bad.

[ghostlyferrettarot]

˚⟡⊰⋆:💎:⋆⊱⟡˚ Our Sun and How We Shine ˚⟡⊰⋆:💎:⋆⊱⟡˚

❗️All the observations in this post are based on personal experience and research, it's completely fine if it doesn't resonate with everyone❗️

✨️Paid Services ✨️ (Natal charts and tarot readings) Open!

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🫧Masterlist🫧

˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗The Sun represents our deepest essence, our identity, and the way we express ourselves to the world. It is our source of energy, the way we shine and leave our mark on everything we do˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗

˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗Aries: If your Sun is in Aries, you shine with dynamic and fiery energy. You are a natural leader, and your light is seen when you take the initiative and are not afraid to go after what you want. The Sun in Aries drives us to be bold, to start new projects, and to be pioneers. The key to your brilliance is in action and in the courage to follow your instincts without hesitation. Your light inspires others to take the first step into the unknown.

˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗Taurus : The Sun in Taurus shines when we are surrounded by beautiful and harmonious things. Taurus light is in their ability to find peace in stability and comfort. You have a natural talent for creating comfortable and luxurious surroundings, and your glow radiates through your ability to appreciate the simple pleasures in life, such as nature, music, or good taste. Your light is seen in your ability to persist and achieve lasting results with patience.

˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗Gemini : If your Sun is in Gemini, shines with lively mental energy and insatiable curiosity. Gemini's light is reflected in their ability to communicate effectively and their skill at quickly learning about a variety of topics. Your glow is found in your ability to keep things fresh and exciting, through stimulating conversations and explorations of new ideas. Your adaptable nature inspires others to stay curious and keep exploring.

˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗Cancer : The Sun in Cancer shines when we are connected to our emotions and our family. Cancer's light is seen in their ability to care for others, offer emotional support, and create a home filled with unconditional love. You shine when you act as the refuge for those around you, creating security and comfort. Your ability to nurture and your deep intuition make you a constant source of light in times of need.

˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗Leo : The Sun in Leo shines with a radiant and charismaticenergy. The Sun feels at home in Leo, and it is here that our energy is most magnetic and full of creativity. Leos shine when they express themselves authentically, showing their pride and personal worth. Your light is seen when you shine on stage, either literally or figuratively, and allow yourself to be the center of attention. Leo teaches us to love our own light and project it with confidence.

˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗Virgo: The Sun in Virgo shines when we are in service to others, helping to organize and perfect everything around us. Virgo's light is seen when we dive into the details, seeking constant improvement and offering practical solutions to problems. Virgo's brilliance also lies in their ability to see the potential in everything and everyone, and their perfectionist approach that inspires others to give their best.

˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗Libra: The Sun in Libra shines when we are in balance, surrounded by beauty and peace. Libra is the sign of relationships and fairness, and its light is seen when acting as a mediator or fostering harmony in relationships. Libras shine when they seek justice and compromise between different points of view. Their brilliance is reflected in their ability to diploma and be the bridges that unite people with elegance and tact.

˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗Scorpio: The Sun in Scorpio shines with a powerful intensity and a deep connection to the hidden. People with the Sun in Scorpio have a light that emanates from their ability to transform and be reborn. Scorpio shines in situations that require emotional courage and a deep understanding of power dynamics. Your brilliance lies in your ability to explore the hidden and transform the negative into the positive, making you a wise person.

˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗Sagittarius : The Sun in Sagittarius shines with expansive energy and a passion for adventure. You shine when you follow your true freedom, seeking new experiences and expanding your horizons. Your light is reflected in your love of wisdom and philosophy, always in search of a greater purpose. Sagittarians inspire others to break boundaries and seek truth through exploration and expansion of the mind.

˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗Capricorn: The Sun in Capricorn shines when we are on track toward our goals. Capricorn's light is practical, ambitious, and dedicated to building a solid foundation for the future. Capricorn shines when they work tirelessly to achieve success, often with relentless discipline and a long-term vision. Your light is seen when you take your responsibilities seriously and, with effort and perseverance, achieve your goals, becoming a model of leadership and ambition.

˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗Aquarius: The Sun in Aquarius shines with a visionary energy and a desire for change. Aquarians love to break conventions and think outside the box. Their brilliance lies in their ability to see the future, to think of innovative ways to improve the world, and to challenge the status quo. They are often noted for their originality and desire for freedom to be themselves without restrictions, inspiring others to follow their own unique paths.

˗ˋˏ 𖢻 ˎˊ˗Pisces: The Sun in Pisces shines with a dreamy and compassionate energy. The light of Pisces is seen in their ability to connect with others on a deeply emotional and spiritual level. You shine when you give of yourself wholeheartedly to help others or when you let your imagination run wild to create new worlds. Your brilliance lies in your ability to see the good in people and to offer emotional healing to those around you.