#which has made me in turn. more stressed about the interview!!

[songforten]

job interviews are so fucking evil i'm so stressed for literally no reason

[wosospacegirl]

And they were roommates - part 6

Summary: Y/n gets injured and has to stay in recovery for 8 months. It's a good thing her friend and teammate Kyra is more than willing to move in with her. wink wink

Warnings: making out sessions getting interrupted :(

Word count: 5.4k

Masterlist

| PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6 |

..

When the convocation of Australia, England and Spain came out Y/n was alone in the physio room at Arsenal while her other teammates were out on the pitch training,

It felt bittersweet.

She saw the names of her dear friends, and she saw Kyra’s name, which made her so proud, but she didn’t see her name. And she wasn’t going to. It would take more than just getting back into shape after her tibia had completely healed.

Y/n would have to work harder and train harder to prove she was even better than before to have another chance of being called into her national team.

Before, being in the squad had been a certainty in her life because of her great performance as a defender.

Now it wasn’t.

But she realised she wasn’t as sad as she thought she would be. Seeing Kyra’s name on Matilda’s squad was enough for her for now.

Y/n just had to learn to stay on the sidelines and, for the first time in her life, enjoy the football experience without being a player. Y/n would now begin her work as a hyper girl. As soon as she finished her exercises in physio she would look for Kyra and wish her–

“Oh, there you are!”

A voice said from the door of the physio room, ruining Y/n plans.

Y/n turned her head to the side and saw a man with a camera in his hand. It was Greg, the head director of Arsenal Media. He was a sweet middle-aged man, but the look on his face said he wasn't having the best day.

“Oh, hi, good morning,” Y/n said, tilting her head at him. “Can I help you, Greg?”

“Oh yes,” he said bluntly. “We’re filming some content today, for YouTube and Instagram.”

Y/n looked around the empty room, and then back at Greg.

“Okay? I think all the girls are out doing drills, they’re not here–”

“The team’s filming a Q&A with Russo, Williamson, and Wälti today,” he continued, completely ignoring Y/n.

“But the Wälti’s cat died so–”

“Lia's cat died?!” Y/n interrupted, her eyebrows raised as she sat on the physio bed. “That’s terrible.”

Damn, Lia loved that cat. Y/n should call her and ask if there’s going to be a funeral.

“Yeah yeah, whatever” Greg waffed. “She said she’s not coming to Arsenal today, so that's why we need you.”

“Me?” Y/n swallowed and pointed at herself.

“Yeah, Williamson said you'd be a good fit, she said you liked being in front of the cameras.”

Fuck you, Leah.

Y/n had been pretty ‘low profile’ since her injury. She hasn’t given any kind of interviews or statements. She hasn’t been to any Arsenal games to watch the girl. Nothing. She hasn’t even posted on her Instagram stories.

She used to like it. The cameras. The interviews. The attention. But not anymore. Y/n didn’t want people to see her injured, to think that she was any less of a player now. She didn’t want people to feel pity or sorry for her.

“Plus, we don't have anyone else,” Greg said, pinching his nose.

The man was stressed.

“How can you not have anyone else? There are about 25 people on this team.”

“We need someone with a personality, and you’re the least bad option I have at the moment.”

Y/n pointed at her leg. “I can guarantee to you, Greg, I’m not much fun to be around right now.”

“Yeah but–”

“Come on Y/n, don't give Greg here a hard time” Leah walked unexpectedly into the room and patted Greg on the shoulder.

Alessia was standing next to her.

“She doesn’t want to do it,” Greg said.

Snitch, Greg, that’s what you are.

“Of course, she doesn't want to. But she will,” Leah said smiling. “Because we need our charming, funny, and charismatic defender back on media day.”

“Are you on drugs right now? You’ve never complimented me before.”

“I'm trying to be nice,” Leah said, the smile on her face changing to a frown. “Alessia told me to be nicer to you.”

“It's scaring me,” Y/n said.

“See Alessia, I told you, being nice isn't our thing,” Leah said, pointing at herself and then at Y/n.

“Can't you two interact without bumping heads?” Alessia asked, looking like a mom who was tired of seeing her children fighting over and over again. “Just for one day, please?”

“No,” Y/n and Leah said in unison.

Alessia rolled her eyes and ignored them.

Alessia sat down by the physio bed, next to Y/n and wrapped her arms around her. “It’ll be fun, Y/n, I promise! It’s just me, you and Leah.”

“I just know one of the questions will be about my recovery” Y/n said, looking down. “I don’t feel like talking about it yet.”

“It’s been what? 2 and a half months since you got injured?” Leah asked. “You can dodge the questions forever, it’s better to talk about it while we’re doing some stupid card game rather than to give an interview. You can’t hide forever.”

Leah was right. But Y/n wanted to hide forever, at least until her bone grew back, at least. If it wasn't for Kyra and her patience and support, Y/n wouldn’t even be leaving the house.

“I just hate looking like this,” Y/n said, pointing at the cast, “I don’t feel like an athlete… I feel useless.”

Guess it was time to talk about feelings. Uhg.

“You’re no less of an athlete because of an injury,” Alessia said, patting her back. “If people didn’t see you as a player anymore, they wouldn't be asking for you to give interviews, or for you to come to our matches.”

“You make it sound like people only care about you when you’re active and playing, and that’s not true,” Alessia continued. “You mean something to Arsenal, you’ve been here for years. Not as much as Leah, of course, she’s been here since the year dot–”

“Hey!” Leah huffed.

Alessia ignored her. “What I’m trying to say is, that the Arsenal fans miss you, you pretty much disappeared from the public eye after your injury.”

Again, Alessia was not wrong.

“Come on, let’s go, I'm not as patient as Alessia and I miss having you at media day.” Leah nonchalantly picked up Y/n’s crutches that were leaning against the wall and handed them to her.

“I. Don't. Want. To” Y/n said slowly, marking each word as she pushed the crutches away from her face. “Get Kyra or Vic to do it.” Y/n pointed her finger in the air as if she had a eureka moment. “Get Beth! Beth loves to talk.”

“I don’t like listening to Beth!” Leah bit back. “She never shuts up”

“She’s literally one of our best friends, Leah,” Y/n said, rolling her eyes. “You should try to be nice to her, not me–”

“It’ll be fun!” Alessia, said, interrupting the bickering again. “It’s just a questions game like we used to–”

“Before I broke my bone?” Y/n completed.

There was a moment of silence.

“Yeah!” Alessia said innocently, smiling.

Alessia took the crutches from Leah, wrapped one hand around Y/n’s body and helped her to her feet. Y/n had no choice but to take the crutches so she wouldn't fall.

“Russo.” Y/n said in a warning, standing up and squinting her eyes at the blonde. “You’re even worse than Leah. Traidor.”

“ filming starts in 15 minutes,” Greg said impatiently from the corner of the room. “Wear your full kit, please.”

The man left the room. Poor Greg, he had to listen to her, Leah and Alessia yapping non-stop. His day had probably just got worse.

“I hate you all,” Y/n muttered but followed the girls as they left the physio room and headed for the changing room, just a few doors to the left. “Just wait till I get my leg back together, I’ll destroy you both in training…”

The two players ignored Y/n.

They entered the changing room and each of them went to their own lockers to pick up their change of clothes.

“They just want an update on how you’re doing, ” Leah said, a few lockers on her right, putting on her Arsenal shirt and looking in the small mirror on the wall “It’s not that hard.”

“They could just read my medical report, then,” Y/n said, picking up her own shirt.

She hesitated for a moment. She hasn’t worn an Arsenal shirt since her injury. It felt wrong, somehow, wearing it and not playing. Especially as the shirt had been in her locker since her injury, she hadn’t brought it home to wash it, it had a faint smell of dust from being in the locker for two months.

Y/n ignored her rambling thoughts and finally put the goddamn shirt on. Red always looked good on her, but today the colour felt off as if it was mocking her.

“Why are you being so difficult? It's just another video for media day,” Leah said again. “Nobody likes media day, we just have to do it”

“I like media days,” Alessia chimed in from the corner, putting her hair in a low bun. “At least we get to skip some parts of practice.”

“Why do you care if I’m in the video or not,” Y/n asked Leah, ignoring Alessia’s comment. “When you were injured you weren’t on media day duties.”

“Of course I wasn't, I was so snappy they gave up on trying to film me,” Leah said as she sat down and put on her boots.

“Oh, so that’s how you got away with it!” Y/n said, “I guess I’ll be snappy too!”

Y/n remembered when Leah got injured some seasons ago. The woman was completely impossible to be around. For a whole month, she could only talk to Leah on the phone because she refused to meet in person. Of course, Y/n, Alessia and the other girl stayed by her side until she got better.

Now it was Leah and Alessia’s turn to stand by her side. Y/n wasn’t so sure if she liked it.

“If Lia’s cat had just held on a little longer, I wouldn’t have to do this,” Y/n mumbled, “How old was he anyway? I feel like she had that cat forever”

“15 years,” Alessia said. “Poor thing had a whole life ahead of him,”

“No, it didn't. It was a geriatric cat,” Leah said. “But don’t tell Lia I said that she’s very sad it died.”

“Don’t call him it, Leah!” Alessia complained.

“Maybe we could come to Lia’s house later today,” Y/n suggested. “Check up on her, see how she’s doing.”

Lia was a sweetheart to her, it was the least Y/n and the other girls could do.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Alessia agreed. “We can stop somewhere and bring her some food, too.”

“Alright, sounds nice!” Y/n said. “Kyra can drive us, we just have to wait until she’s done with the drills and training.”

Y/n didn’t even ask Kyra if she could drive them to Lia’s or if she wanted to go to Lia’s, but Y/n was sure she wouldn’t mind.

“You know, I was living for the day I would see you as a passenger princess,” Leah teased. “Now tell me, is Kyra that much of a good driver?”

Y/n took a boot from the cubby next to her and threw it playfully at Leah.

“Shut up, man!”

Leah nudged the boot and threw it back at Y/n. She aimed it at Y/n and it hit her right on the head.

"Wow. Hitting a disabled person. New low, Leah." Y/n pouted, patting the sore spot where the boot had just hit.

Leah shrugged, “You started it.”

“Can you two stop throwing things around?” Alessia asked, picking up the boot from the floor, scared Y/n would retaliate. “And that's Kim’s boot, she hates people touching her things.”

“She shouldn't be leaving her stuff scattered around, then,” Y/n said, chin up.

“Bro you took it out of her cubby,” Leah chimed in.

The door suddenly opened and one of the girls from the media said they had everything ready to start. The girls nodded and said they’d be right out.

“Wow, I thought that was Kim for a second,” Alessia said, putting her hand on her chest.

“Me too, I was afraid I was going to get hit twice today,” Y/n said, smiling as Leah nudged her shoulder playfully.

“Come on, the quicker we do it the quicker we finish it,” Leah said, helping Y/n on her crutches as they headed for the media room.

“Here we go,” Y/n said, not very enthusiastically.

..

Y/n, Alessia and Leah sat at a table with cards in the middle. The mediator of the dynamic was behind the camera, telling the girls that he would chip in when needed.

Arsenal had asked for a natural, chatty video, so that’s what the three girls would do.

The camera was rolling and Y/n was nervous. But she didn’t want people to know that, so she played it cool.

Alessia read the first question on the card and aimed it at Y/n and Leah.

“Y/n, how does it feel to be off the pitch for so long, and Leah, how do you feel as a captain when a player gets injured?”

Alessia gave Y/n a sad look, knowing the girl didn't want to talk about the injury, yet it was the first question that was drawn on the card.

Y/n hesitated, she opened her mouth, but no words came out.

So much for playing cool.

Y/n looked at Leah, a silent cry for help.

“I’ve been in Y/n’s shoes before with my ACL, as you guys know. I was out of the pitch for 9 months, so a whole season and it was very hard,” Leah said, patting Y/n’s leg behind the table as if saying I got you.“Surgery is hard, physio is hard, being off the pitch is hard, seeing yourself without football is hard.”

Y/n gave Leah a grateful look and nodded as the captain spoke.

“It’s more mentally challenging than people think it is,” Leah continued, as Alessia nodded at her as well. “And as captains, we have to help our players by being a safe place for them to talk when they need to, and of course, give them a little push if necessary,” Leah smiled at Y/n.

“When I got injured, having Kim as a captain by my side was very important for my recovery. She pushed me more and more and that’s one of the reasons why I’m here today, so yeah, we captains are annoying but I’d say we’re necessary.”

“And Y/n, do you think your teammates are a vital part of your recovery process?” The man behind the camera asked, clearly wanting Y/n to address her injury somehow, not just Leah.

Y/n hesitated again, but this time she pulled herself together and formed actual words and sentences.

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” Y/n said, her hands shaking slightly.

Why was this so hard to talk about?

“They’re more than my teammates, they’re my friends,” Y/n continued. “Leah and Alessia have been a big part of this recovery, they always try to push me so I can be in the best mental and physical state possible.”

“We’ve seen you get closer to other teammates as well after your injury too, right?” The man asked.

Fuck, that was one of the few questions Y/n absolutely wasn’t prepared to answer. She had to turn this around somehow.

Y/n blushed, she just hoped it didn’t get on camera. But for the looks Alessia and Leah gave her, her embarrassment was very clear.

“Hmm, yeah, I mean, they all are all my support network at the moment, since my family is in a completely different country.”

Y/n tried to dodge the question. She knew exactly the answer the man was looking for, but she didn’t know if she should be mentioning Kyra. Again, it was not a secret they lived together, but Y/n didn’t want everyone to pry too much into their lives.

“But there’s one particular teammate who’s been helping you out more. You even moved in with her? Cooney-Cross?” The man continued.

Y/n could kill this media guy.

If Y/n’s blush had been subtle, it wasn’t now.

Y/n went silent, but the man behind the camera urged her to speak.

“Yeah, I mean, I needed someone to help me around, and my mum couldn’t come live with me, so Kyra offered and—uh—she drives me to physio, and we watch films sometimes—uh, a lot actually—like, not all the time, just—uh—yeah… and we cook sometimes, but not in a weird way, I mean, obviously not weird, just…”

“This is painful to watch, you’re embarrassing,” Leah murmured under her breath, enough so that only she and Alessia could hear.

“Medicines! She reminds me to take my medicines and she—uh—makes sure I don’t fall over in the shower.–”

“What she’s trying to say is that Kyra is very supportive,” Alessia said finally, looking at Y/n, her eyes screaming ‘Shut up, right now you’re making a fool of yourself’.

Leah was a decent friend and cut Y/n’s suffering short by picking up the next card.

The camera continued to roll. The next questions were less personal and more professional, based on actual football rather than Y/n’s private life, so she relaxed more and answered the questions without sounding stupid.

When they were finished the man behind the camera said they were free to go on with their day.

“Was that bad?” Y/n asked the girls as they left the media room.

“It was horrible,” Leah said.

“I bit, yeah. Sorry.” Alessia said.

“You and Kyra need to figure out whatever it is you guys have going on, you can’t freeze up and start rambling nonsense every time her name comes up!” Leah said, rolling her eyes.

Y/n blushed, again.

“Me and Kyra have nothing going on– we’re just good friends and– best friends even and we–”

“See! Rambling!” Leah pointed out.

“Look, I know you’re private about your love life, and I get it, and so do I,” Leah continued. “But me and Alessia have known you forever and we can tell that you’re in love, so there’s no need to try and keep it from us.”

“Besides, Kyra kind of told me she liked you a few weeks ago, so there’s no need to hide that from us,” Alessia added.

There was a moment of silence.

“Kyra said she liked me?” Y/n asked, trying to sound casual.

Y/, and Kyra had been living together for two months now, they had a well-established routine and from the outside, it looked like they had been dating for years.

They kissed and made out all the time. But still, they haven’t had the talk about what they are, because it just didn't feel necessary. Maybe they would never have that conversation and that was more than okay for Y/n. They were just living in the moment.

But to know that Kyra liked her enough to go and tell Alessia? It felt amazing. As if she was sure now that it wasn’t one-sided. Kyra felt something for her, she liked her.

Kyra wasn’t kissing her or spending time with her just because she felt sorry for her. She actually liked Y/n.

Kyra liked Y/n, and Y/n liked Kyra back very much.

Y/n wanted their relationship to be private, not a secret, so it was nice that at least Leah and Alessia knew about it, even if only superficially, so she didn't have to sit down with them and have an awkward talk about it.

Especially with Leah. The girls were closer friends, but they did have a hard time talking about feelings. The last time Leah had told Y/n she was seeing someone she had said she felt like someone was squeezing her chest. Y/n had told her it was love.

“You’re grinning,” Leah said. “Keep that to your lover girl, please. It's disgusting.”

See? Feelings.

Y/n and the other girls walked down the corridor of Arsenal, and when she turned left, Leah and Alessia turned right.

“Where are you guys going?” Y/n asked, confused.

“Oh– we have pitch training right now with the defenders and other forwards,” Alessia said softly as if she didn't want to upset Y/n. “The midfielders just finished their training so–”

“Oh yeah, of course,” Y/n said, faking a smile. “Go on, good training.” She said before turning around and heading for the changing room.

It didn't matter how hard they tried, Y/n still felt like an outsider because of her Injury. She felt like the only kid whose mum wouldn't let her go to a sleepover when the girl had to go to the pitch to play.

Y/n opened the door to the changing room and was more than surprised to see Kyra sitting on one of the benches with her back to her.

Y/n’s sad face quickly turned into a grin when she realised that Kyra was shirtless, just wearing her sports bra and training bottoms.

“Oh hello there,” Y/n said as she walked closer to Kyra. “It’s so hot in here, isn’t it?” Y/n said, waving herself cheekily.

Kyra turned around, smiling. “Hey, gorgeous. Come here.” Kyra patted her own tight.

Y/n put the crutches on the bench and carefully Sat cross-legged on Kyra’s lap. Y/n kissed her face.

“You smell like grass,” She said

“Good thing it's grass and not sweat.”

“Well since you bought it up, sweat too, I was just trying to be nice,” Y/n laid her head on Kyra's shoulder.

“You’re never nice to me,” Kyra said, a fake pout on her face.

“I am, I'm always very–” she kissed Kyra on the lips. “–very nice to you.”

“Try harder,” Kyra said, enjoying the kisses.

“Okay,” Y/n kissed Kyra more deeply, slipping her tongue into her mouth.

“It's it nice enough?”

“I'll think about it and I'll let you know,” Kyra teased.

“You're annoying, no more kisses for you,” Y/n mumbled but still pecked Kyra’s cheek.

“Please? A few more just because I’ve called to the Matildas?” Kyra asked.

Ym smiled and kissed Kyra's nose, then her chin. “Just because you got called up and I'm so proud of you.”

“I was so nervous I wouldn't get in,” Kyra said, stroking Y/n's good leg. “I was in the gym when Steph and Caitlin told me we were all in, it was like I could breathe again.

“You deserve it, baby, Y/n said, wrapping her arms around Kyra's shoulder to balance herself. “You've worked very hard.”

“How’s your day so far? I haven’t seen you on the bench on the pitch today,” Kyra said. Y/n’s breath was warm against Kyra's neck, her fingers tracing small circles on her back.

“I was at physio, and then I had to do some media bullshit,” Y/n mumbled. “Just so you know, don’t watch the next YouTube video on Arsenal’s channel, okay?”

Kyra laughed. “Why? Why did you say that?”

“Well, they brought you up and my brain just froze and I started rambling, but Alessia and Leah pulled me out of my misery as soon as they could.

“Oh? You rambled? Kyra said teasingly, kissing Y/n’s cheek. “You get nervous talking about me? That’s cute.”

“Don’t say it like that, come on” Y/n blushed. “I just wasn’t prepared for them to talk about living together, it caught me off guard.”

“I'll watch the video, just so you know.”

“No, you won’t not.”

“I will, we will be watching it together actually, I wanna see you squirm.”

Kyra’s hand slipped up Y/n’s leg, now almost to the end of her tight. The touch sent shivers down her spine. She pulled back slightly pulled back, her lips brushing Kyra’s ear.

“There are different ways you could make me squirm, you know.” she said against Kyra’s mouth. “fingers, tongue, str–”

Y/n wasn’t a sex freak, but oh God did she want to take the cast off completely so she couldn't finally have sex with Kyra.

Kyra put her palm over Y/n’s mouth. “How are you so blunt?” she said whisper-yelling and looking around the room.

“I just am,” Y/n whispered-yelled back. “why are we whispering there’s no one here, everybody’s…”

The door to the changing room cracked open, and for a split second, it seemed as if the universe was playing a joke on Y/n and Kyra. The girls’ heads turned at the sound of the doorknob.

Beth walked in, her innocent eyes trailing the room until they landed on Y/n and Kyra.

Kyra went pale as Y/n’s stomach dropped.

Beth froze when she saw Kyra and Y/n, a grin on her face replacing the innocent expression from before as she examined the position Y/n and Kyra were in very carefully.

“Am I interrupting something?” She said, wiggling her eyebrows. “You two look very comfortable.”

Y/n and Kyra looked at Beth like a deer caught in headlights.

“I got a cramp in my good leg,” Y/n said quickly and defensively while trying to leave Kyra’s lap. “so I had to– hm– sit down.”

“And there weren’t enough benches so she had to sit –on, hm– my tight,” Kyra finished, blushing hard. “Yep, that’s pretty much what happened!”

Beth looked at them like they were idiots.

“One, two,” Beth counted, pointing to each bench available in the room. “Three, four and five. Five branches available for Y/n” She said, smirking. “You’re a bad liar Cooney-cross, it causes me physical pain.”

Y/n struggled but was eventually able to sit down next to Kyra, but she kept a very safe distance.

“I’m not lying!” Kyra stammered, blushing even more. “I just offered my injured friend a place to–”

“Injured friend?!” Y/n turned to Kyra. “Are you serious?”

“What?!” Kyra shrugged in confusion.

Before Y/n could open her mouth, Beth was already speaking.

“You know what, I’m going to spare you both from whatever the hell that was,” Beth said, walking straight to her cubby “I just wanted to grab this,” she pointed at her shin pads now in hand. “I didn’t mean to intrude on a private moment.”

Y/n wanted to slap the grin off Beth’s face. She was enjoying herself far too much. The girl breathed in and out, trying, trying to think of how to handle the situation or rather, how to handle Beth.

“We can just never mention it again,” Y/n suggested, trying to sound chill.

Yn looked at Kyra out of the corner of her eye and it pretty much looked like Kyra was silently panicking. She was looking at the ceiling, not making eye contact with either Beth or Y/n, while her hands tapped anxiously on her own tight.

So much for trying to act cool.

“Oh no babe, I’m never letting this go.” Beth replied with a mischievous smile “I’m saying I’ll spare you both now because I'm late for the drills.”

“But we’ll talk about this on the way to Lia’s house,” she continued, the grin on her face stronger than ever, “ Leah tells me Kyra is driving you all to Lia’s, do you have a seat for me?”

“Yes, we got one last spot,” y/n mumbled, looking hopelessly at Beth.

Her plan to keep her relationship with Kyra on the download had just gone down the drain. Beth was an amazing friend, but the girl couldn’t keep a secret if her life depended on it. She would eventually let it slip what she had seen in the changing room to the other girls. Beth just couldn’t help herself.

“Great!” She walked to the door. “Bye, lovebirds!”

Kyra's hands immediately shot up to cover her flushed cheeks “Oh God, that was so embarrassing!”

Kyra didn’t mind being seen with Y/n. To be honest she wanted the whole world to know it already. But at the same time, she wanted to keep what they had private. She wanted the affection and the sweet touches to stay in between them.

The less people knew the less they could pry on them. Although Kyra knew it wouldn’t last long, the Arsenal team was very close, they were more than a team, they were a real family.

Fortunately, there was no taboo about dating among players, especially at Arsenal, one of the clubs with the most couples.

Y/n smiled and reached over, gently pulling Kyra’s hands away from her face. She kissed the back of Kyra’s hand. “It’s okay, baby.”

“They’ll know eventually,” Y/n said softly but firmly. “Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”

Kyra’s tensed body slowly relaxed at Y/n's touch.

“Hey,” Y/n said, lifting Kyra’s chin so she was looking at her. “It’s not a big deal, okay?” She planted a gentle kiss on Kyra’s cheek.

“But you were straddling me,” Kyra murmured.

“So? It still could be a lot worse, trust me.” Y/n said with a warm smile, trying to reassure the girl. “Katie and Caitlin were much worse, don’t you remember?”

“Oh yeah, and Beth and Viv didn’t know what personal space was,” Kyra chuckled, before turning serious again as the realisation set in.

“Bloody hell Steph and Caitlin are going to tease the hell out of me, just like I did when they started their relationships.”

Kyra looked devastated. It was cute.

“Karma, baby,” Y/n joked, trying to ease Kyra’s nerves. “You’ll get through, yeah?”

“Whose side are you on?” Kyra asked grumpily.

“Yours, always.”

Y/n leaned back against the bench and picked up her crutches. “Don’t worry about it, yeah?” her tone was reassuring. “We'll figure it out. But now I have to go to my medical exam, I think the doctor is already waiting for me… you make me lose track of time,” she grinned at Kyra.

Before Y/n could walk away, Kyra grabbed her hip. “Hey, what was Beth talking about before? About going to Lia’s house?” Kyra asks, confused.

“Well, as my favourite driver, you were chosen to drive me, Less, Leah and, now Beth to Lia’s, her cat died,” Y/n said, patting Kyra’s cheek.

“Her cat died?!” Kyra asked, eyebrows raised. “Oh damn, I’ll have to pay Katie.

Y/n furrowed her brows. “What do you mean?”

“I bet the cat would last another year,” Kyra admitted, a slight blush on her cheeks. “Katie said it would be dead within a few months.”

Y/n was silent.

“You bet on Lia's cat’s life?” Y/n said, her mouth hanging open. “That’s like so fucked up, mate.”

“It was Katie’s idea!” Kyra said, holding up both hands defensively.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Of course it was, and you just went along with it, didn’t you?”

Kyra gave her a cheeky smile. “That’s correct.”

“Hm, you pest,” Y/n muttered, giving Kyra one last kiss. “We’ll go after the drill is over, yeah? We can meet in the car park.”

“Okay, I’ll wait by the car,” Kyra said.

“You don’t mind driving us, do you?” Y/n asked just for the fun of it, she already knew the answer. “I didn’t even ask you.”

“Nope, I don’t mind as long as you sit in the passenger seat,” Kyra said teasingly, her thumb caressing Y/n’s skin.

“Good girl,” Y/n said with the same teasing tone. “Now please put your shirt back on or else I won't answer for my actions.”

“You are a pervert,” Kyra said, rolling her eyes, but doing as she was told.

“Yes, that's me!” Y/n said, before blowing a kiss and leaving the room. “See you later, babe.”

..

| PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 |

Notes: Please like, share and let me know what you think! Feedback is important and makes me want to write even more. :D

Read more of my work here -> Masterlist

[pomefioredove]

hello dovee! I saw the "I'd look good on you." and immediately thought of vil! if I could please request for that? THANK YOU SO MUCH🍰stay creative!

thank you everyone for feeding me vil requests. I got a little crazy with this one

summary: "I'd look good on you." type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, a little suggestive a part of this event

"No, no, no, no. Wrong, dreadful,"

You dodge another designer handbag as it goes flying across Vil's room, joining the growing pile of clothes behind you.

"Why is this so difficult?" he groans, storming out of his closet. "I have not a SINGLE decent thing to wear for this interview."

You look over your shoulder, watching him as he begrudgingly begins to clean up the mess he'd made.

"I think you're stressed,"

Vil pauses midway through sliding a silken shirt back on its hanger to glare at you.

"Another excellent observation," he says dryly. Then, a sigh.

"Sorry. I've been wanting to work with this director for years... I don't care for this role, but if the film does well, he'll likely want to work with me again... How's this?"

He holds up a glittery purple dress in front of him. You blink.

"...Good,"

"Ugh," he scoffs, tossing it aside. You don't know how many more times you can tell him he looks good in everything before he kicks you out.

"What is the role, anyway?"

Vil rolls his eyes, catching onto your attempt to distract him. He indulges, anyway.

"Another villain, although this film is more of a..." he pauses, gesturing vaguely. You stare. "...A young adult movie."

"So it's bait for teenage girls?"

"...Essentially,"

He sighs again, cleaning up the last of his temper tantrum and sorting it in his massive closet.

"Thus my role is more... provocative, we'll say. Which is fine, if not for the fact that I feel I did horribly,"

"I'm sure you didn't,"

"I'll be a laughing stock, this director will never work with me again, and I'll become one of those pathetic, washed up former child stars by age twenty-one,"

That feels... a tad overdramatic, but you don't mention it.

"That's not going to happen," you insist. "I'm sure you make a great... provocative... villain!"

Vil sighs, returning to the bedside to sit with you. For a brief moment, you can feel him staring, but you say nothing of it.

"You haven't even seen it," he mumbles, finally looking away. "I only have half an hour... I feel completely unassured."

You can't help but feel pity. Before knowing Vil, you had stupidly assumed that most celebrities are confident by nature, exuding grace and certainty.

Now...

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Vil quiets, seeming to consider the offer. "...May I use a line on you?"

You're not exactly sure what he means by that, but it can't be anything too painful. He only has half an hour, after all.

You nod.

Vil smiles, then turns away. He takes a deep breath... you've seen this before. He's getting into character.

It's very effective.

When he turns back, his expression is completely different. And his body language. Even his very presence has shifted.

You've seen this before, you remind yourself. The dangerous, menacing facade that he's known for, that makes his roles so iconic...

But he's also smiling, his eyes lowered, a pleasantly amused look about him.

His hand finds its way to the bed on your other side, effectively caging you between his arms. And then he moves in, guiding you down onto the mattress and leaning over your body.

This is your friend. You're just helping him. There's nothing to be nervous about.

Despite what you tell yourself, you can feel the effect he's having on you.

He can tell, too.

Vil tuts, his free hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Scared?" he asks. His voice is gentle, though there's a lingering danger behind it.

"Poor thing... I won't bite,"

He leans closer, his other hand intertwining with yours and keeping it pinned to the mattress, hot breath pressing against your ear.

"I'd look good on you," he whispers.

You know you shouldn't interrupt him, but you can't stop the nervous, flustered whine that comes out of your throat.

Vil breaks character, beaming, and gets off of you.

"Oh, my..." he grins, studying your expression. "You were right. I was worried over nothing."

He stands, smoothing out his clothes, and strides towards the closet to change, leaving you flustered senseless on the bed until he returns.

"How do I look?" he asks.

Of course, perfect. He always looks perfect. And now that he's confident again, gorgeous.

He smirks. "I'll take your silence as a compliment, potato. Thank you for the boost... I'll be back to pick up where we left off in a few hours,"

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

first of all, this is all legit, and not bait, though i have a feeling it may come off that way, this did happen to me. please don't publish if tumblr sends it off anon.

i'm a lesbian with gender dysphoria, and while i haven't had much sexual experience, i would consider myself a stone top. in the last year and a half i began reading "terf"/radical feminist writings and reading "terf" tumblr blogs fairly actively, largely out of frustration with misogyny i was experiencing IRL. though i never engaged with the community i did stop identifying as genderfluid and started understanding my dysphoria as stemming from the trauma of being bullied by other girls for having a high-androgen DSD, and using different pronouns/transition thoughts as unhealthy coping mechanisms. i'm happy with this, but i also don't know if i'm attracted to women anymore.

i've always been attracted to women in a way that's stereotypically guy-like; i find feminine women very attractive and not so much fellow(?) butches, want to penetrate with a strap on, don't like bush much, cursory interest in BDSM/daddy kink. i read/watched het erotica and porn sometimes and identified with the man. what i read problematized pretty much every aspect of that- femininity as a cage, penetration as violence/straps as disidentification w the female body, infantilization of women, bdsm as abuse etc. also, desisting making me more conscious of dysphoria/knowledge of how extensive sexual dimorphism is putting me off both women with larger breasts and hips AND smaller breasts and hips/unrealistically masculine body types as well. so a lot of what turned me on before isn't arousing anymore, or i feel guilty about it, and i haven't been able to find butch4butch stuff which is much healthier very interesting.

i consider my sexuality healthier now on a political level but my ability to get aroused/jerk off has plummeted (used to be i could jork it sunrise to sunset) and thinking about being in a relationship w another woman makes me feel uneasy and weird, especially since a lot of what i read emphasized reciprocative cunnilingus/tribbing (which i don't like) as the healthiest sex options. i also think about both my dysphoria and my sexuality issues 100x more than i did before, even though i was promised the opposite (freedom from dysphoria and feeling happier as a lesbian), and it's stressing me out day-to-day. i'm aware based on your general ethos that you probably think i'm a terrible person right now, but i figured it'd be useful to seek the opinion of someone who radically disagrees with what i've read on what i could/should do next, since i admittedly miss being at peace with my sexuality.

thanks for reading.

hi there anon,

it's a bummer that you'd think I would assume you're a terrible person based on everything you've told me here. I generally try not to consider people terrible unless they're actively being shitheads or hurting other people, which doesn't sound at all like you're describing. from what you've told me, you've been up to your eyes in some information that's made you feel deeply uncomfortable in your sexuality and now you're seeking out a new perspective to help you make sense of that hurt. that describes most of the people who send me questions!

it's so striking to me that much of what you're describing is very reminiscent of what's recounted in The Persistent Desire, an anthology of writings on butch/femme identities edited by femme historian and archivist Joan Nestle that was released in 1992. in various essays and interviews countless butches and femmes recount their discomfort with the feminist turn against butch and femme identities that too place in the 70s, when both roles were declared problematic recreations of heterosexuality and summarily decried as politically "incorrect" for lesbians. it's shocking to me how much what you've described echoes these accounts experienced by lesbians half a century ago - the disowning of women who are "excessively" feminine or masculine, the demonizing of penetrative sex, general insistence that there are "correct" sex acts that every lesbian is supposed to enjoy, and the deep discomfort and insecurity that this causes among people who don't fit into the very rigid standards of proper lesbian identity set forth.

here's a link to a PDF, if that's interesting to you at all. it's very long, so feel free not to read it straight through; it's a great project to skim and an incredible way to get in touch with the lesbians who came before us. their accounts of their lives are so wildly different from the boundaries of "good" queer representation that feel so universal today; in discussing their own lives many of these women speak very bluntly about their experiences with abuse, drugs, sex work, and violence. it's a great glimpse into the lives and history of a lot of very ordinary lesbians just living their lives, and I'm very grateful it's been preserved.

now, as for what you're actually gonna do: hey. listen. first of all, if you haven't given up reading this stuff yet, you've gotta. you simply cannot keep internalizing stuff that makes you overanalyze your own sexuality so hard that you feel uncomfortable about being attracted to women. that's not "healthy," that's conversion therapy lite. there are other places to talk about feminism without being made to feel ashamed of yourself.

listen: there's nothing unhealthy about anything that you described about yourself. being a stone butch, being attracted to certain looks and aesthetics, watching porn, wanting to use a strap and roleplay during sex and not being interested in other sexual activities - all of those thing are completely normal and, yes, healthy. certainly healthier than feeling the need to repress your sexuality so hard that thinking about being with a woman doesn't feel right!

should we run through that list?

femininity as cage - sure, okay, femininity isn't for everyone, and there are parts of it that suck. that doesn't mean there's anything wrong with women who like to wear dresses or put on makeup or shave or whatever, or anyone who's attracted to those women. genuinely I cannot think of anything less interesting or important to feminist organizing than getting hung up about what people want to wear. it's clothes, dude. it's fucking clothes. pick a more important hill to die on, I implore you.

penetration is not the same thing as violence. there's just nothing to debate about that one; it's patently absurd to pretend that every act of penetrative sex is rape and you'd have to fundamentally misunderstand how consent works to believe that.

straps are not about "disidentification with the female body," they're about augmenting a sexual experience. a strap-on is not more problematic than a vibrator or a massage oils or a pillow used to prop up a body part. unless those are also bad? are those bad? are pillows disidentifying from the female body also? I'm not up to date on this.

straight up I don't even know which part of your whole deal the infantilization of women is supposed to address, but a thing that I've always found interesting about a lot of radical feminists who are deeply distrustful of sex is the way that many of them seem to assume that women can't be trusted to understand their own sexual desires and need to be taught what's appropriate. seems kind of condescending to me, personally.

BDSM isn't the same thing as abuse. abuse, crucially, is not a situation that people can safe word out of or negotiate the constraints of. it's kind of like how, you know, I purposefully pay people to shove needles in my skin when I want a tattoo, but I wouldn't be stoked about it if somebody just ran up to me in public and started stabbing me without any warning or conversation. context is crucial. there can certainly be abusive people within BDSM spaces, but that's true of people of literally every sexual proclivity on earth, and certainly not an innate feature of BDSM. it's just make believe, dude. it's dress up. it's sex LARPing.

also, psst, hey. that thing about being attracted to women in a "guy-like" way? no such thing. men are humans, dude; they experience attraction in as many different ways as anyone else. for every dude interested in the same stuff as you there are men yearning for hairy women, muscular women, masculine women, women who will dominate them, women who would rather be eaten out then penetrated, and so on. to say nothing of the men who aren't into women at all! and, as is obvious from your own experience, men don't have a monopoly on those kinds of feelings, anyway! there are no men or women feelings, dude; it's all just people having feelings and fighting for their lives trying to figure out what they're into to.

I want to particularly talk about that last bit, where you mentioned not enjoying or wanting to engage in cunnilingus or tribbing. that's totally fine! people like different shit in all kinds of combinations - I'm personally a huge fan of getting eaten out and scratched up or bitten, but I don't do penetration and I've genuinely never met anyone who actually liked tribbing - and there are absolutely people out there who will, to paraphrase the poet Tinashe, perfectly match your freak.

(have you heard about the perpetual, critical shortage of tops that the queer community faces? you'd be a godsend, just saying.)

also, actually, hey I wanted to circle back to another thing as well: it's deeply alarming to me that whatever radfem stuff you've been reading has you feeling "put off" of women with wide hips and large breasts as well as women with small breasts and hips. what is wrong with either of those? both of those are just ways that women naturally look. women just look a wide variety of ways, and it's sad that that's upsetting you now. just thinking about this, conceptually, is giving me hives.

having been up to your eyes in all of this, I can definitely understand why you'd feel the urge to overanalyze you own gender and sexuality to the point of completely talking yourself out of identifying with anything that feels good for you. as I said, that's actually not healthy in any way, and as a sex educator I can't say that I think anyone genuinely invested in your well-being would want that for you.

entirely aside from their feelings on trans people, which I obviously disagree with pretty vehemently, one of the things about radfems that's most endlessly vexing to me is the insistence that such an extremely narrow range of sexual behaviors are appropriate. seems like a miserable way to live, and I sincerely hope you can detangle yourself from the morass of shame it's landed you in. you deserve better.

[stephreynaart]

i'm so sad you ship billford.... im not gonna lecture you i just. sighs. i love your art so much this is really upsetting. :(((

We gonna have this conversation again?

At this point go take it up with Alex, cause it’s pretty much canon.

BOOK OF BILL SPOILERS BELOW

It’s REALLY hard to ignore all the language surrounding Bill’s relationship with Ford and how he pursues him, he follows the dating advice he gives in the book to a T

- Leaving dead rats/mice for Ford

- Ford is the only “partner” that Bill is openly vulnerable with and gives him some insight to his past and his experience (also referring to him as a partner)

- The “Love Cage” advice he gives, where he said go trap your date and sing them a song. And if you remember, Bill traps Ford in the Fearamid and sings to him “We’ll Meet Again”, which was a song written for WWII soldiers who were away from their lovers

“I’m Your Puppet” by James & Bobby Purify that Ford gets in his head, a love song, that also places Ford in his role in the relationship.

THE FLIRTING “you can call me anything but late to dinner”, “I think I’m starting to like you” and saying the same thing then saying “jinx”. GET A ROOM

Both got jealous when the other thinks they’re with someone else. Ford thinking Bill’s “inspiring another scientist” when he doesn’t see Bill for a few weeks, and Bill calling Fiddleford a “third wheel”.

Then when they break it off, Bill goes on a sad drunken rampage. Which you don’t do for someone who you don’t at least care about, especially not someone who’s just a friend

Bill gives Ford 3 days to turn the portal on and asks himself “What was I, a saint? And why did I do it- some misplaced sentimentality”

Even Mabel basically said Bill has a thing for Ford “you’re like a super needy ex” “go crush on someone else’s uncle”

They were definitely more than friends, from what I see it was mostly one-sided on Bill’s part.

Maybe Ford did feel something, it was definitely a relationship that made him feel good, more in tune with his brain and body, and gave him a big boost of confidence. He went to Bill for comfort when he was stressed and vented to him about stuff. Bill made Ford happy…while it was good anyway.

Was this a healthy relationship? FUCK NO!

Bill was mentally and physically abusive, manipulative, and possessive (LITERALLY). He spiked Ford’s drink after Ford said no to having one and got him fucked up. Bill took Ford’s body on a joyride and did horrible things to Ford that we see in the pictures and thing we DONT see in the video. All to make him comply and get the portal running. Calling Ford his PROPERTY.

But it’s a good story of overcoming an abusive relationship, which is great representation tbh, Ford is happier and has his family to love him now.

Normally Alex is great at leaving things up to interpretation, but I can’t ignore the intentional and not at all subtle way he depicted Bill and Ford’s relationship. There’s even seeds of it in the interview with Hana and TGFF

Go take it up with Hirsch, cause I’m just using what he gave me

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

Bend & Break - C.SC

🥺Who: Choi Seungcheol (Seventeen) x female reader 🥺What: coworkers. friends to fuckers. smut. 🥺Wordcount: 10k 🥺Warnings: Profanity. Sex toys. Dom!reader. Sub!Seungcheol. Petnames from reader to Cheol(baby, sweetheart, little one, good boy, babyboy). Kink discussion. Safeword discussion. Teasing. Fingering by reader to self. Cheol licks/sucks a dildo. He's very needy and desperate <3. Edging(Cheol receiving). Begging(Cheol). Cheol cries(from pleasure dw). Reader just wants to ruin Seungcheol and that's so relatable. Sort of ambigious ending I guess in regards to the future of their relationship.

Summary; You've recently been hired due to the sunshine personality you showed for an interview, purely with the intention of the company pairing you up with Seungcheol to counteract his grumpy attitude around the office. Nobody realises it's just a work persona of yours and when someone does, it's none other than Choi Seungcheol himself.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N; this story would've never happened if the wonderful @bitchlessdino hadn't taken pity on me and my empty brain and slid an idea over to me. And letting me run wild and turn it into a sub cheol smut. Thank you so much for screaming about this with me, sweetheart <3

Edited: 21/12/24

Being the new hire anywhere isn't ever really a thrilling experience for anyone. Being the new hire mostly because of the fake persona you showed at the interview is even worse. Because now, you have to keep acting like the bubbly, happy-go-lucky person you had pretended to be two months ago.

Still, the pay is good, the hours aren't gruelling and although you're part of a dozen-strong team, you share a comfortable little office with only one other person, so you figure it's not the worst trade-off.

Though you still haven't yet decided if your work partner is reason enough to change your mind about that.

Choi Seungcheol is the very reason you were hired; to counteract his frankly miserable attitude around the office. Not that he much leaves your shared office, but when he does he's likely to be glaring at whoever is making the most noise, or simply asking him a question that isn't entirely necessary.

He has the world's most severe case of resting bitch face too, which regularly causes issues with clients. So you were hired to be the pep in client meetings and steer things in the correct direction when Seungcheol is seconds from saying something that could risk the contract, or a trip to HR.

Seungcheol isn't the type to fake interest in the personal lives of clients or colleagues; he's just here to work. And honestly, you respect that a hell of a lot. But it also means you shoulder all the small talk and have to look at pictures of people's pets, kids, and holidays that you really could not give less shits about.

And all of that means that although Seungcheol is a hard worker and you're beyond happy to have a competent partner at your side, he is one of the main reasons for your rising stress levels. Just once you'd like to not have to be the smiling balm to soothe the sting of his harsh demeanour and blunt words.

Alas, Seungcheol is not going to change his ways, especially when he doesn't know that you could really do with him pulling his weight in the charm department.

Which is made very apparent on one particular day with a new client who seems to consistently bump heads with Seungcheol.

The meeting is an hour of Seungcheol's nastiest bitch face and the client's obnoxious attitude flaunting the “customer is always right” motto the company stupidly prides itself on. You want to tell the client to go fuck himself on more than one occasion throughout the meeting, but you can't seeing as you'd like to be able to keep receiving a pay check.

As soon as the meeting is over, Seungcheol is out of there, no doubt halfway back to your shared office before you can even exit the little conference room thanks to the client deciding that “you just have to visit the resort I vacationed in. Here, let me show you the site”. So you're stuck pretending to be interested in the fancy foreign resort that the client shows you on his phone for the next handful of minutes before you can finally leave.

After all that you really need a break, so instead of going straight back to your office you walk straight past it and to the supply room for your floor.

Once inside the small room of shelving units full of various office supplies, you just stand there, eyes squeezed closed and hands tight on your hips while you focus on trying to calm yourself down with some deep breathing.

You're so focused that you don't hear the door open a few minutes later. The gentle tap of shoes on the hard flooring has your eyes snapping open and over to where Seungcheol, of all people, is standing with one hand raised to grab a new packet of printer paper, but his attention is entirely on you. He looks bewildered; one eyebrow raised and the other scrunched a little with his head tilted slightly.

You immediately slap on your usual bright smile, entirely fake but nobody has ever noticed that before, and grab a new, empty folder from the shelf near you. “I didn't know we need new paper already, I would've grabbed it myself if I knew,” you chirp, already walking towards the exit but the room isn't wide enough for there to be enough space around Seungcheol for you to just breeze on by like you want to. And he doesn't step aside either.

“Well, guess everyone's favourite isn't all sunshine and rainbows after all,” he replies with a smug smirk. “I wonder how everyone will react to knowing the truth about you.

“I don't know what you mean, Seungcheol.” You smile sweetly then skirt around him and leave before he can say anything else so you can return to your shared office to get to work on the new client file.

You expect Seungcheol to say something when he returns; to try and taunt you and goad you some more yet he doesn't say a thing, he just silently refills the paper in the printer and gets back to work.

For a whole week, Seungcheol has you on edge; he keeps smirking at you knowingly and making vague comments around others in what you know is an attempt to get you to break. But you hold on strong and don't show a single sign that the you everyone in the office knows, isn't you at all.

It's pretty much a week to the exact minute that you break. Another meeting with that same client that goes about as well as the first has you back in the supply room counting your breaths.

You're very certain that your printer does not need more paper already when you look over at the footsteps entering the small room.

Seungcheol isn't even pretending to be there for any reason other than to watch you break. He's leaning against the unit on his right with his arms crossed over his chest and a cocky smirk on his face.

And finally, enough is enough.

“You need to fucking stop,” you warn. His face lights up in victory at you not even attempting to put on the higher, friendlier pitch you use at work; your customer service voice that you even use for your colleagues. “Seriously, Seungcheol, stop it,” you reiterate while heading towards the exit.

This time, Seungcheol purposely stands in your path and looks down at you arrogantly. “Are you going to admit that you're not the innocent little sweetheart that everyone thinks you are?”

You take a breath as you stare back at him just so you don't break too far. “You don't even know the half of it,” you retort simply.

Seungcheol stares back at you curiously for a few seconds before stepping aside to watch you go, wondering what exactly that means and how he can find out for himself.

After that second incident in the supply room, you figure there's really not any point in keeping up the facade with Seungcheol so when it's just the two of you in your private office, you let the persona drop.

The first time you swear to yourself in complaint over your work, Seungcheol gawps at you in shock until you notice and raise an eyebrow at him. But he says nothing and doesn't react after that time except the occasional amused smile to himself as he hears you curse colourfully at much more regular intervals than he ever does.

And Seungcheol lets you see more of the real him too.

The two of you have always met outside of work for the sake of finishing tasks or discussing clients without being confined to the same four walls of your office. You'd get dinner or he'd come over to your apartment to go over documents in your office for however long necessary. But it was always about work.

Though now that he knows who you really are, it's not always about work; your conversations over dinner turn more friendly, enough that you see him smiling genuinely and laughing for the first time. And he doesn't stop either.

A genuine friendship quickly blossoms between the pair of you, allowing you to be yourselves to the extent that on more than one occasion Seungcheol has turned big, pleading puppy eyes on you with a pout to convince you to go where he wants for dinner, or even when he's complaining about his friends and being whiny, the big eyes hit you.

And the way they hit you is really not something you think you should think about the man, so you shove the thoughts of pinning him down and telling him what to do out of your mind.

The friendship between you is noticed by your colleagues too. It's kind of hard to miss the way that you're the only person who can get Seungcheol to join work dinners, after all.

You both know that there's a 'secret' betting pool going around the office in regard to whether you two are secretly dating or not; Jeonghan is not as slick as he thinks at hiding the bet sheet. And for fun, sometimes you and Seungcheol will purposely let your fingers brush over one another or let your gazes linger longer than they should, just to watch your coworkers try to not visibly flail at what they think are moments of you two failing to hide your relationship.

Though mostly, your close relationship means that when one of you is invited to drinks, dinner or some other activity with colleagues, you'll both turn up. Even if neither of you want to. But you dug a hole with your fake persona and refuse to be buried in it alone so always drag Seungcheol in to suffer with you.

Which leads us to the day that you well and truly snap.

It's one of those days where if something can go wrong, it will, topped with shitty clients and colleagues who will just not let you have five minutes of peace.

By the end of the day, you're wound so tight that all you want to do is go home and give yourself some good old-fashioned stress relief on one of your favourite toys. But this day doesn't allow you even that.

It's another casual team dinner that you can't get out of; it's to celebrate Mingyu's birthday and well, even if you're in a shitty mood, the giant puppy of a man is such a sweetheart that you truly would feel bad about ditching him to masturbate.

So you get into Seungcheol's car like usual after work, go to the restaurant and sit at his side at the table while silently praying that this will not be a complete shit show.

Two hours later, you're really at the end of your fucking rope. You really had been naive to even hope that this team dinner wouldn't be as rowdy and chaotic as all the rest. Your colleagues are a lot on the best of days with nothing to celebrate, so when they have an excuse to drink they really go for it. You're always surprised when the group isn't kicked out of public spaces, honestly.

The only ones not drinking are you and Seungcheol. Neither of you ever drink at these gatherings; you claim that you just don't drink in general while Seungcheol flat-out refuses without any attempt at an excuse. Really, you both don't want to risk encouraging the group to invite either of you out for more than just the company-related dinners, so not drinking sort of keeps the team in general at arm's length. Though both of you do have a few drinks when it's just the two of you and you can let yourselves relax in trusted, comfortable company.

But this is not that, this is you sitting side by side with Seungcheol blessedly keeping his mouth shut while you try not to break and tell everyone to shut the fuck up before leaving.

You do, however, take solace in the bathroom a few times, using the cold water to cool you down before going back into what tonight feels like your own personal hell.

On your latest trip out of the bathroom Seungcheol passes you, heading to empty his own bladder. He smirks at you and murmurs something in your ear as you pass one another. You can't even tell what he says; your brain is so heavy with fuzzy tension that his words don't register at all. But they don't need to, you know he's teasing you about your temper; he's done it before many times. Usually, you'd just joke back at him and point out his own, but tonight you don't have it in you.

Your gaze turns icy on him in a second causing him to come to an abrupt stop. You don't linger, don't slow and just turn and settle your expression back to your facade before rejoining the drunken group.

When Seungcheol returns, he timidly slips into his seat on your right silently in an attempt to not anger you further. Though a few seconds later, the tip of his left pinkie brushes the edge of your right elbow where it's resting on the tabletop, his hand sort of hooked on the edge of the table close to you yet out of sight of your colleagues.

You turn your head to look at Seungcheol and find him looking at you with those fucking giant doe eyes, silently asking for forgiveness. But you don't give it, just turn back around to watch your coworkers making absolute fools of themselves.

Yet your mind is stuck on Seungcheol's innocent expression and timid posture and all you can think about is how much you'd love to make him squirm and beg under your attention. It's riling you up in a way you usually keep such a tight lid on, but considering how tense you already are tonight, that lid is bowing and shaking under the building pressure and you know it'll blow soon enough.

For the first time since meeting Seungcheol, being in his passenger seat isn't a very pleasant experience. Neither of you say a word for the entire fourteen-minute drive from the restaurant to your apartment, and that in itself isn't unusual, but usually there isn't this thick tension hanging between you two.

When Seungcheol pulls up in front of your building, you turn to look at him. He has both hands on the wheel and eyes locked on the space between his hands with clearly no intention of doing more than just dropping you off at home despite the fact he usually goes straight inside with you to hang out some more.

And honestly, it's probably best if he does go straight home and leaves you to deal with your tension alone. But it's not exactly an option.

“You need to check those documents ready for Monday,” you remind. Seungcheol lets out a reluctant breath but relocates the car to the parking lot in silent agreement.

Once in your apartment, the two of you remove your shoes and jackets to put them in their usual places.

It's kind of insane to you that Seungcheol is at your apartment enough that there is literally space on the low shoe rack for him to leave his shoes, and a gap on the pegs for his work jacket, there's even one of his casual jackets already there on the next peg. You don't really have any close friends, nobody you deem worth your time to allow into your life frequently enough to have a usual place in your home.

There isn't anything said between you as you walk through to your office where you lean over onto the desk to boot up your computer while Seungcheol hovers awkwardly a little behind you.

While waiting for the system to accept your password for the work files, you look over your shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow. He stares back at you dumbly until you give him a look and motion to the chair on your right with a silent tilt of your head.

In seconds, Seungcheol's ass meets the seat and he stares up at you with big, obedient eyes, his hands laced together and trapped between his thick thighs.

It's all rather dangerous considering how close you are to snapping and overstepping the boundaries neither of you had ever verbally set up between you but are always in place in platonic relationships. Even if you want nothing more than to destroy them right now, and Seungcheol too.

So you turn back to your computer with gritted teeth, open the relevant documents and motion to the computer vaguely before leaving the room entirely.

You go straight to the kitchen to down a glass of water as cold as you can stand it before splashing more on your face, then dragging a cold, wet hand on the back of your neck needing all the help you can currently get to cool down in every sense of the word.

It doesn't work.

By the time Seungcheol is done with the documents and shuffles into the kitchen, you're standing with both hands on the counter in front of you while staring darkly at nothing in particular, jaw tense and an attempt in your breathing to try and regulate your emotions.

“I finished it, it's all ready to send off,” he informs, coming to a stop a few metres away, not as close as he'd usually stand but still closer than sensible if he knew the depravity in your mind right now.

“Good,” you return simply without even looking at him.

He huffs a soft laugh. “No thank you?” He jokes, but you can't see the humour at all. Not when you're feeling like this.

“Thank you?” You repeat flatly before turning your dark gaze to him as you straighten and lean off of the counter. He swallows thickly and takes a step back when you take one towards him, prompting him to keep reversing. “Why should I thank you for doing your fucking job, huh?”

Seungcheol's mouth opens and closes with an attempt to try and say something, some kind of a “just joking” explanation but all he manages are vague sputters of sound that cut off abruptly when his back hits the wall and you're standing right in front of him. He's taller than you by a handful of inches but right now, he feels so fucking small and he's surprised by how much he likes it.

"Well?" You prompt, well aware that he had tried to explain himself; his pathetic stammering was very obvious and gave away that you’re intimidating him.

Though based on the big innocent eyes on you paired with the prettiest of pink tints to his cheeks, you think that perhaps intimidation isn't all it is.

And it's just pushing you to keep pushing him until he breaks because you know that he'll break so fucking beautifully.

“I'm sorry,” he finally manages to squeak out.

“You think that's good enough? You think you can just give me empty words and all is forgiven? Oh, baby, you really don't know me at all.”

He just stares at you dumbly; mouth dry and pupils dilating further and further with every act you make. 

It's far from the Seungcheol you see at work and that thought sort of douses you in icy water. This isn't normal for either of you.

Well, it's not unusual behaviour for you with partners at all, but he doesn't know that. Besides, he's your work partner and friend, not a sexual partner.

“Shit.” You sigh and back up a little. “You should go, I'm clearly not in the right frame of mind and if you stay, I'll go too far.” You try to move even further away to give him space to leave, yet you're stopped by your shirt pulling tight around your back. You look down and find both of Seungcheol's hands gripping the hem of your untucked shirt, his fingers trembling a little. You look back up with a questioning eyebrow.

“ don't want to leave,” he admits quietly as his cheeks darken slightly.

“No?” He shakes his head shyly. “You know what it means if you stay, right? You know what I want to do to you?” You check a little worriedly.

“Uhm...dom me?”

You huff a laugh. “I want to ruin you, baby.” His eyes light with interest. “You want that? Big scary Choi Seungcheol wants little ol' me to pin him down and make him cry?” You tease while running a finger over his jaw.

His mouth opens wider and his tongue appears with the tip pressed against his lip as if reaching for your touch. You don't give it to him even if you think he'll look precious with your fingers in his mouth.

You pull your hands away and cross your arms over your chest. “When I ask you a question, I expect a verbal response, Seungcheol.” Your voice is firm and your expression is the same on him.

“Y-yes!” He rushes out. “I-I want you to do that to me.”

“Do what?”

“Use me.” You hadn't said those words yourself, but you like them a hell of a lot. “Push me down and use me to make yourself feel good. Make me cry, ruin me. Please just...do something,” he's begging by now, not as strongly as he could be, still holding back a lot but you're pretty sure it's all very new for him.

You need to check though before anything goes any further. “Have you ever done anything like this before? Subbed?”

He shakes his head a little. “No, it's usually the other way.”

“Figures.” You huff a laugh then reach down to remove his hands from your shirt to take one into your own hand. “Come on.”

You lead him to your bedroom, though let him go in the middle of the floor to walk over and sit on the edge of your bed. He fidgets when you just stare at him contemplatively, your eyes dark and calculating as you lean back on your palms behind you with your legs crossed over at the ankles comfortably.

When he starts to fiddle with the hem of his shirt nervously, you speak up deeming him desperate enough with his cheeks a magnificent dark pink. “What're your limits, Cheolie?”

The nickname is new but he likes it. It feels fitting somehow.

“Uh.” He has to stop and think for a moment. He isn't sure exactly what his limits are for certain in this situation because he doesn't know what he likes in the submissive role, but there are some things he knows he'll never be okay with so he starts there. “Bodily fluids outside of spit and cum.”

“So you don't mind being spat on with your own cum?”

“Uh, I mean, I think I'm okay with it,” he offers awkwardly; uncertain but trying his hardest to be open and honest.

“How about eating it?”

“Uh...I don't know about that.”

“Okay.” You easily accept his response and move on. “What else? Pain?”

“I don't know; I've never received it before. If you want to try it I'm willing just… not too intense.”

“Hmm, we'll see. Edging? Overstimulation?” Those options have him hesitating as he genuinely considers them both. And then, he nods slowly, shyly. “I asked a question, Seungcheol.”

“Y-yes, to both.”

“Good, because that's my favourite thing to do to my little ones,” you coo. “Pick a safe word.”

“Uh, can we use the traffic light system? Red for stop, green for carry on?”

“Sure thing,” you agree easily; it was familiar enough to you after all. “What do you use for uncertain? Some people say yellow, some orange, some amber.”

“Whatever.”

“Pick one,” it's a demand he quickly obeys.

“Amber.”

“Good boy.” He visibly preens a little at the praise, which you make a mental note of. “Are you clean? Sexually, I mean?”

“Yes.”

“And that's a recent test since your last sexual partner?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I won't touch you without that confirmation and luckily, I trust you to be honest so you don't need to show me proof like I usually demand.”

“You trust me?” He asks softly, awed by the words and the weight they carry.

You hum and nod in confirmation. “More than anyone else.”

“Oh.” He smiles down at his hands happily. “I feel the same about you too.”

“I imagine so, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be willing to do this if you didn't,” you tease.

“Ah, yeah, true.” He chuckles and rubs his neck shyly.

You let him stew in his minor embarrassment for a second before talking again. “Degradation?” He looks up at you at that. “How do you feel about that?”

“I might cry,” he admits honestly, making you laugh a little at the blunt way he speaks the words. “I don't like being called names or looked down on.”

“Okay, baby, none of that,” you assure.

“Thank you.”

“Mm, of course, I have to make this good for you too. And I do love that you use your manners without being prompted. Such a good boy, huh?” His eyes round out again at you and the semi-casual air between you dissipating with your slightly teasing tone. “Are you going to be a good boy for me, Cheolie?”

“Yes, I'll be good for you.”

“Then strip.” He blinks at you a few times at the abrupt demand; the way your tone changes from light to borderline hard with no room for arguments.

Slowly, Seungcheol's slightly shaky fingers first remove his tie, and then his shirt, exposing his broad, muscle-thick torso to you. He knows he looks good, that his body is worth ogling but your dark eyes still make him feel shy.

Still, he continues, his top half entirely bare and moving onto his belt.

Something about the way he opens it and pulls it free from the loops of his slacks is really attractive to you. You can easily imagine him teasing his own sub as he removes his belt before grabbing the ends to turn it on their backside when he bends them over. Maybe you could break for him too; if he turns out to be a good enough fuck this time that is.

For now, you're more than content to watch him open his button and zipper and let his trousers drop to his ankles. He bends down to remove them from around his feet, taking his socks off too and then he straightens up and looks at you. You can tell he's hesitant to remove his boxers by the way his fingers fiddle with the waistband over his hips for a few seconds.

There's a part of you that wants to let him off easy for now and allow him to keep his boxers on for a little while. But the bigger part of you really doesn't want to do that so you continue to silently watch him.

Seungcheol lowers his head to look down at his underwear for a second, then he looks at you through his eyelashes still hoping you'll take pity on him. You don't. So he looks back down as he takes a long breath in before he hooks his thumbs under the elastic band and starts to push the material down.

You watch with rapt attention as the final piece of the beautiful, thick-built puzzle that is Choi Seungcheol is revealed to you inch by glorious inch. You have to admit, he's fucking gorgeous and it does a lot to you. Makes you throb between your thighs as they clench for a second while he's distracted focusing on removing his boxers from his legs.

And then he's entirely bare and looking at you shyly, fingers on his right hand picking at the nails of his left in nervous wait.

“C'mere,” you murmur. Seungcheol stumbles over and when you nod to the floor, he slowly lowers to his knees, letting his hands hover over his rapidly hardening dick. That is like the rest of him; thick and unfairly beautiful.

At this rate, you can't tell who is going to ruin who.

“Don't hide from me.” You unfold your legs just to gently tap at his hands with your socked foot before settling it flat on the floor beside his left knee.

A little reluctantly, Seungcheol moves his hands aside to place them on the tops of his thighs and allow you the full view of his kneeled form.

“Mm, much better, good boy.” The praise straightens his posture a little. “You're so beautiful, babyboy, don't deprive me of such a gorgeous view, hm?”

“Ah, fuck,” he softly breathes out; a little overwhelmed by the unexpected compliments, which he just knows are genuine from your tone and expression on him. You clearly like what you see and it makes his dick jump a little against his thigh. You smirk at the visible response; you've always known that Seungcheol loves compliments and praise but you didn't know just how much.

“Shall we even things out a little?” You suggest, already getting up to your feet in front of him.

He watches you with rapt attention as you open your trousers and shimmy them down. His gaze is too focused on the skin of your thighs coming into sight that he doesn't realise that you've pushed your panties down with your trousers to save yourself time. At least until you sit back down on the edge of the bed when the material is around your knees.

“Off,” you demand.

Seungcheol's hands immediately reach out to hook his fingers over the combined waistbands and pull them off of your slightly raised legs. It's when he's setting them aside that he notices the white material inside of the black of your trousers and freezes.

Mindlessly, he moves one hand to pull on the white material and quickly looks at you with wide eyes and his mouth parted. You just raise an eyebrow in return, silently prompting him to snap back to his task and move the material aside entirely so that he can carefully remove your socks too.

“Good boy.”

Just to tease, you sit there for a good almost twenty seconds with your legs closed most of the way, just the slightest gap between your thighs but it's not big enough for him to see anything but a dark shadow.

To your surprise, he actually gives in first. “Please?” He begs softly, looking up at you pleadingly. “Please let me see your pussy.”

“Oh, how can I refuse such good manners?” You coo and spread your legs causing his gaze to drop back down between them. Though he whines when he realises that your shirt is long enough to mostly cover you and shadow the rest. “You make such cute sounds, Cheolie.”

“Don't tease me,” he complains.

“I'll do what I want and you'll be grateful for it.” He presses his lips together looking fully scolded and stares at you in wait. He's impatient, that's very obvious but he's doing his best to stick to this new dynamic.

Honestly, he's taking to it a lot better than you had expected, or hoped, considering all that you know about Choi Seungcheol; so instead of prolonging it any longer, you lift the hem of your shirt out of the way with one hand.

Seungcheol's lips part when his eyes land back between your thighs and take in the sight of you fully exposed to him. Automatically, his hands lift with every intention of putting them on your thighs to push your legs open further while he leans in licking his lips.

But you stop him with your free hand, a finger pressed to his forehead. “I didn't say you can touch.” You grin amusedly at his dumb-aroused expression; his mouth open and tongue hanging out a little.

“Can I taste?” He requests, putting his hands back on his thighs but not leaning back. Your slightly condescending laugh makes him pout. When you nudge his forehead under your index finger, he leans back into a sulky slouch.

“Your job is to sit there and look pretty for me,” you point out, now using that same finger to trail up your inner thigh. Seungcheol's pout melts away as he watches its path intently. He audibly inhales sharply when it drags through your folds. He groans a little when he sees the shine now on the digit and wishes it was his tongue getting doused in your arousal.

Even though you very much would enjoy an orgasm or two sooner rather than later, you continue to tease yourself with one finger; barely brushing over your clit and circling your hole but never pushing in. It's more to tease Seungcheol and the squirming of his body perhaps turns you on more than your own actions.

Either way, when you do finally give in and plunge your finger inside, you're wet enough that it's more than easy and honestly, not very satisfying past the initial relief of having something in you finally.

Though that relief passes very quickly so soon you're adding a second finger and watching Seungcheol chew on his bottom lip hard enough that you think he's going to break skin any second. You really don't want that, so you pull your fingers out and reach towards him. The speed at which he leans it with his mouth opening genuinely makes you laugh.

“Oh, baby, you are desperate, huh?” You tease and adjust your hand so that your thumb presses against his bottom lip and your slick fingers are not close enough to his mouth to get even the hint of a taste. “You're not getting a taste, I just don't want you to hurt those pretty lips.” The expression he lands on you is utterly heartbroken. “Stop biting or I'll gag you, understand?”

“I...I understand,” he agrees, so you let him go and return your fingers back to yourself, though Seungcheol doesn't lean back. In this position, his head is pretty much between your knees, which you spread a little wider and he takes as permission to scoot a little closer. You don't mind at all, he'll just be teasing himself more with a closer view after all.

Your intention with fingering yourself isn't to reach orgasm at all, mostly you just want to tease Seungcheol by showing him what he can't have, though you also do want to prepare yourself. When you're able to easily take three fingers, you remove them and get up.

“Wh-where are you going?” He worries, hands lifting from his thighs but only hovering a few inches away from his own body. He wants to reach out and stop you from walking away but he knows he can't. You still haven't given him permission to touch yet and he really doesn't want to be scolded again, let alone face any kind of punishment you may give him if he disobeys a direct order. He's horny, not stupid.

“I'll be right back, just sit there and wait like a good boy, sweetheart,” your voice is gentle in order to soothe him that you are, in fact, not planning to actually leave and end things here as he fears.

You quickly grab something from a case in the chest of drawers before returning. You sit back down and open your thighs again, but Seungcheol's gaze is glued to the pale blue dildo in your hand.

“What do you think?” You muse, leaning down to hold it near to his erection in comparison. “Ah, not quite as thick as you.” You sigh dramatically and straighten back up. “That's a shame; it's as close as I've got though, so it'll have to do.” You pout theatrically as you trace the tip of the silicone toy over your slick folds; it's a little cold and jarring but you do your best to ignore it. Besides, the temperature difference isn't something you're entirely against.

Vaguely, you wonder if Seungcheol would be into temperature play; you've never tried it before but you've always been interested in both giving and receiving.

Seungcheol wants to make a retort, say that instead of settling for a toy that wouldn't stretch you like his thick cock would, you could just use his. He'd fuck you however you want and probably thank you for it at this point; he's throbbing with need and leaking on his thigh. He doesn't think he's ever been so fucking turned on in his life. But he can't talk, can't say a fucking thing as he watches the head of the toy breach you.

He was wrong before, now he's more turned on than he's ever been as he watches the way the girth of the toy spears you open.

Your breath catches a little so he looks up at you and once again corrects himself because your expression is what wet dreams are fucking made of. Your mouth is parted and your eyes are closed, your head tipped back slightly and your cheeks pink with pleasure.

You let out a curse under your breath so he looks back down and swears in the same fashion when he sees that you have entirely embedded the toy within you, just the slightly flared base in your fingers still.

“Fuck,” he curses again when you start to pull the toy out slowly and he sees how you've drenched it. Your eyes open to look down at him with an amused lopsided grin. He doesn't notice though, he's too entranced by the show less than a metre in front of his face.

Seungcheol doesn't notice the way he naturally moves a hand towards his crotch with the intention of soothing his aching cock, but you do. “Stop,” you demand, stopping your own motions of fucking into yourself slowly to let yourself get used to the toy's length and girth fully.

“Huh?” He looks up at you confused with his mouth wide open.

“I didn't give you permission to touch your cock, Seungcheol.”

“What?” He looks down and notices the hand inches from his dick. “Oh.” He hesitates but obediently puts his hand back on his thigh before looking up at you shyly. “I-I didn't realise. I'm sorry.”

“Feeling that needy?” You smirk and get back to fucking yourself on the toy. He lets out a sound, a mix between a whimper and a groan as he looks back down at your pussy. “Answer me.”

“Yes. Yes, I've never been this turned on before,” he admits in a rush of syllables. “Wanna fuck you so much,” he whines, fingers curling into fists which he presses down onto his thighs almost harshly in an attempt to behave for you.

He wants to be good for you. Wants to be your good boy. But it's so fucking hard when you look so fucking good. Look like your pussy would take him so well and make a fucking mess of him.

All he wants is to get up, throw that toy aside and sink his cock into you and feel your slick, heated walls around him. He's fucking convinced that your pussy would be perfect for him.

But he can't, and that's really hard for him to accept and handle when he's usually the one in charge during sex.

“Think you can make me feel better than this?” You taunt a little and pick up speed, letting your pleasure show through with little pleased sounds that really do not help Seungcheol's self-control at all. He moves a little closer yet doesn't touch either of you the way he wants to.

He's obviously trying his hardest and that, you think, is more than enough when honestly, you really want his cock in you as much as he wants to put it in you.

“Yes,” there's not an ounce of hesitation in his answer, he's entirely confident in his abilities, in his thick cock.

Usually, you'd roll your eyes and dismiss that confidence from a man because they're notoriously cocky with nothing to back up their claims. Part of the reason you got into domming is because men don't know how to use their dicks, so you always get more pleasure when you're on top and controlling how your walls are pummelled.

But there's something about Seungcheol that tells you that he's not like other men. He can and will fuck you right given the chance. Still, you want to be on top in every way.

“Big talk, little one.” You huff a laugh, most of your breath affected by the pleasure of the toy you're using to hit all of those good spots inside of you with every thrust. You're not being as rough as you could be, as you often tend to be when you feel like this, but you're talking and know that you have no space left in your chest for words when you truly fuck yourself.

“Let me prove it,” he pleads. “Please, just let me fuck you and I promise you'll cum hard.”

“I'll cum hard regardless,” you hum. His expression twists in displeasure knowing that you are truly dismissing his offer. “Maybe another time,” you counteroffer, not liking that downtrodden expression at all.

He looks up at you with hope glistening his dark gaze. “Yeah?” He asks with a surprised exhale.

“If you do good enough for me this time.” You pull the toy out and point it at him. Seungcheol eyes it and licks his lips. “What? You wanna suck it?” You taunt.

“Wanna taste you,” he murmurs.

“Enough to suck my cock?”

He glances up at you then looks back down and nods, licking his lips again. “Yeah, can I? Please?”

“Seeing as you asked so nicely,” you approve and touch the silicone toy to his bottom lip.

Seungcheol's tongue immediately darts out to pass over the silicone and get his first taste of you. His eyes roll back and he groans before he very enthusiastically starts to drag his mouth over the toy. He moves up the length along every side, not actually putting the toy into his mouth really, but this is absurdly hot enough as it is.

It turns you on much more than you had anticipated seeing this handsome man pretty much going feral for your taste that he'll messily lave his tongue over the dildo with his eyes closed in bliss and constant streams of groans of approval vibrating out of his throat.

And when he moves back to the tip and wraps his lips around it, genuinely sucking on the fake-cock, well that's as much as you can handle. You pull it away without warning creating a pop before Seungcheol looks at you half dazed, half betrayed with a smidge of confusion.

“Get on the bed,” you demand, getting up and walking around to one side of the bed while unbuttoning your shirt.

Seungcheol doesn't even have to think; there's no mental input on his behalf as he jumps up. His legs almost give out under him as the blood rushes back into his limbs after sitting on them in one position for a prolonged period, but he powers through to practically throw himself onto the mattress.

“On your back.” He crawls and shuffles until he's on his back with his head on the pillows and chest rising and falling heavily already in anticipation.

Seungcheol's heavy gaze remains on you as you reveal your body entirely. He lets out a shaky exhale when you're fully bare and climbing up onto the mattress at his left. “You're beautiful,” he says in a tone that is far too affectionate for what is going on here.

It makes you pause for a moment and look carefully at his gaze. He still looks ridiculously horny but there's something else there now; a touch of fond that genuinely sort of worries you.

Of course, you are fond of Seungcheol; he's a very precious friend to you but your feelings don't extend further than that, further than platonic and sexual. You really hope that the fondness you see is nothing more than a reflection of your own feelings and nothing more. Him having romantic feelings could certainly complicate matters more than adding sex into the mix will.

Sex you can navigate with your eyes closed, but feelings? That's an entirely different circus.

“Are you going to sit on my face?” His hopeful tone brings you back to reality. He hasn't even noticed your hesitation for what it truly is and just assumes you're teasing him further.

“Not today,” you answer, silently deciding to just give you both what you want right now and have an actual discussion later when you're both not horny messes.

“Oh.” His lips purse into a pout but then you retrieve a condom from the side table drawer and he lights up again. “Oh!” You let out a soft amused sound at his excited reaction and straddle his thighs while opening the wrapper. “Can I touch myself?” You give him an unimpressed look. “Just to help!” He assures.

“Mm, sure, I'll allow that,” you agree. Seungcheol has his dick in hand as soon as the words are slipping from your lips and holding it upright for you. You notice the way he shudders a little at his own touch on his aching cock and don't berate him for the subtle stroke he gives himself as he rolls the rubber down his length once you put it at his tip. “Good boy,” you hum, tossing the foil aside carelessly.

“For you,” he answers, wide eyes watching as you move up his body to hover over his length that he's still holding upright. “Please.” He doesn't even realise he says it, but you do and decide you've both waited more than long enough.

As soon as you start to slide down his cock, Seungcheol's eyes roll back and his hands fly out to grip your hips tightly. It feels pretty nice so you allow it, at least for now, it's kind of stabilising to have his strong grasp centring you while his cock splits you open.

Although it hadn't looked that much bigger than your toy, you can certainly feel the difference in girth right now. Plus the fact that Seungcheol is so fucking hard in you compared to the slight give of the toy, well you're already so close to an orgasm it's kind of ridiculous.

It takes you both a handful of seconds of heavy breathing to gather yourselves when you're fully impaled on his length and seated on his hips. You don't even try to keep any weight off of him; you're certain he can handle it and even if you weren't, your legs are already weak enough from the feeling of him stretching you out even still like this that you doubt you could hold yourself up if you tried.

You haven't realised that your eyes had closed until you've got some of your breath back, enough to have a mind clear enough to want to look down at him. His eyes are closed; he's struggling more than you, which doesn't surprise you considering how you hadn't allowed him any touch until now.

Carefully, you remove Seungcheol's grip from your hips and lean over to pin his hands up by his head. The new angle has his cock hitting a delicious spot within you and you can't help but grind down against him to gain friction against it. This angle also means that your clit is rubbing against his body with every roll of your hips.

Seungcheol barely manages to open his eyes and look at you before they roll back again with pleasure as you moan over him, fingers gripping onto his wrists with your full weight. He doesn't mind at all, doesn't really register it considering you're so wet and hot and tight around him that he truly cannot focus on anything else. Yet even if he could register it, he wouldn't give a single fuck. You could crush him and he'd be into it right now.

“D-don't cum,” you order when you feel your orgasm right on the brink, eyes opening to peer down at him. His own fly open in pained disbelief. “Un-fuck-understand, Seungcheol?” He whines but nods obediently. The agreement of restraint sends you over. Pleasure shocks through your body making it jerk a little, mouth open with broken higher-pitched moans coming out.

Seungcheol's whole body tenses and his face screws up tightly as you clamp down around him. He's never fought an orgasm before but you told him not to cum and he's not going to let you down now.

He's shaking by the time you slump over him, forehead dropping to his shoulder as you fight to suck air back into your lungs, just the occasional tiny twitch of your hips when a fresh lick of pleasure shoots through you with the aftershocks of an intense orgasm.

“Did you cum?” You check another few moments later.

It takes Seungcheol a few attempts to answer, just grunts coming out at first but you wait patiently. “No,” he manages while flexing his fingers to give him something else to focus on.

“Good boy,” you praise and press a kiss to his neck. His breath catches at the unexpected action but then you do it again, and again, and again as you adjust yourself while leaning up to look down at him with your hands now on the mattress and not pressing down against his wrists in a tight grip.

You take a look at them and are relieved that there's only slight redness right now, so you're pretty sure he won't bruise. Still, you'll keep an eye on it just in case.

“You did so well, Cheolie.” You hum and cup his jaw. His lip trembles a little, eyes so big on you and soaking in the praise. It helps his shaking lessen as he relaxes from doing his utmost not to cum with the fluttering of your walls around him. “Think you can hold out longer for me, baby?”

“I...ye-yeah.” He isn't sure but he's sure he'll try his best for you. He really wants to be your good boy. Your best boy.

“Yeah?” You smile softly, pleased. He nods and smiles back a little in a natural reaction to seeing you happy with him. “That's my boy.” You tap his nose, then straighten up to sit on his hips with your hands on his solid abs. “I'm going to ride you now, okay baby?”

He nods shakily and sticks his hands under the pillow to grip it. “O-okay.”

“Colour?” He blinks at you confusedly a few times. “What colour are you right now, sweetheart?”

“Oh, green,” he answers. “Green.” The repetition makes your lips quirk up. It's oddly endearing that he's assuring you right now considering he's the one missing an orgasm.

“Good, tell me if that changes, okay?” He nods. You let him get away with not verbally responding this time and start to lift yourself up.

Seungcheol's gaze falls to watch his length appear from your dripping pussy utterly mesmerised. Up until you abruptly drop yourself back down, ass smacking down on his upper thighs audibly.

A loud, low moan tears from his open mouth as his back arches upwards. He looks fucking beautiful like this. You have to keep making him do that so you don't hesitate to lift and drop in the very same way; taking up a punishing rhythm that has his cock dragging against your walls in the most incredible of ways.

Honestly, you're half convinced his cock just being in you has you halfway to a constant orgasm because that ball in your lower stomach winds up tight so fucking quickly that you barely register it until it's there, urging you over but this isn't quite enough for you. You need clitoral stimulation but you don't think it's wise to give it to yourself right now with Seungcheol buried within you and his body trembling as he still holds back with everything in him.

At this point, he's babbling a little in amongst his constant stream of porn-worthy moans. You're not quite sure what he's saying really, you're not sure that he even knows what he's saying either.

If you cum with him inside you, you're positive that he will too regardless of your words so you pull off of him. His eyes instantly fly open in alarm and he looks at you as he lifts his head up. You just settle down again along his latex-covered cock to grind along the length.

He gasps and shudders watching his cock peek out through your slick folds. “Please, please,” he begs; his babbles now making sense while he's not overwhelmed with the feeling of you squeezing around him.

This is still a lot for him but he's much more able to be a good boy for you now. He really wants to make you proud of him. He doesn't want you to think he's a bad boy for cumming without permission, because then you won't play with him again and he really doesn't want that. He wants to be your good boy. Your only good boy.

You know what he's begging for even if he doesn't voice it. You'll make him say it in a minute but right now you're seconds from a second orgasm and unless he says red you're not going to stop.

Even though the orgasm is yours entirely, Seungcheol moans when you do as he watches your face contort with utter bliss as your hips jerk over his length a few more times before falling still. It's not quite as powerful as your first orgasm, not when you're empty, but it's still intense and leaves you breathless.

Initially, you had planned to give yourself many more orgasms before letting Seungcheol cum but you genuinely think if you draw more than one more out of yourself, you'll pass out. You don't know if it's because it's been a while and you've been so pent up that it feels so mind-numbingly incredible, or if it's because of the thick cock pressed up against you.

“Colour?” You pant out when you feel ready to go again, eyes landing on Seungcheol.

He doesn't hesitate to answer this time but he finally sounds wrecked, voice hoarse and cracking a little with the simple single-syllable response. “Green.”

“Okay.” You push up and gently lift his cock up to line with you, applying as little pressure as possible to try not to give him too much too soon and overwhelm him in the wrong way. “Positive?” He nods rapidly so you begin to impale yourself again. His breaths come in one long juddering inhale as you slide down his length until he's sheathed inside of you.

“Please,” he goes right back to pleading, levelling you with such a begging, wet gaze that you know that this will not last long at all.

“Please what, baby?” You question, lifting to ride him slowly, now focused on him and him alone yet not wanting to push him over too fast. He looks too pretty like this; skin blotched with reds and pinks in a way that makes you wish you had discussed marks beforehand so that you could leave some lovebites on his pecs.

But you hadn't, and asking for permission at this point is utterly pointless, Seungcheol is too gone to be able to give full consent to anything new. You're pretty sure he'd say yes to anything right now so long as he can cum.

“Lemmecum.”

“Hm? What was that, speak clearly.”

Seungcheol whines and sniffles. “I wanna c-cum. P-please.” He blinks rapidly as the tears gathering in his eyes overflow and spill down his temples onto the pillow under him. “Please-please l-let me c-cum,” he chokes out, close to full-on sobbing.

You give in. You want to make him cry, not sob his poor heart out, after all. “You can cum,” you consent.

Seungcheol freezes for a split second in genuine shock, but then his eyes roll back and his back bows, biceps bulging as he grips the pillow so tight and pulls it up a little with the strength of his orgasm. He almost yells your name he moans so loud in pleasure and relief as the intense climax takes over his body.

You continue to move on him slowly to ride him through it, and then a little out the other side when he flops back against the sheets and raggedly sucks in harsh breaths with only short exhales. You'd continue with the intention to overstimulate him if he wasn't laid utterly boneless and not even reacting to you anymore. It's boring to overstimulate someone with no response, after all.

He doesn't even react when you carefully pull off of him and remove the condom to tie off and dispose of in the bin beside your bedside table. You stand beside the bed on weak legs for a second to watch him in wonder and decide that he truly is too out of it right now to even notice your presence; so you dart off to get a large glass of water and drink some yourself, and a damp cloth before returning.

Seungcheol is still lying there with his eyes closed though his breathing is evening out now when you place the cup on the side table and sit on the bed at his side. You carefully start to run the cloth over his sweat-damp body; a shower is really needed but that can wait a little.

Seungcheol makes a soft noise but doesn't react otherwise.

Finally, he opens his eyes when you return from taking the cloth back to the bathroom to toss into the hamper where you also clean between your thighs quickly.

“Hey,” you greet softly, laying down on your right propped up on your elbow at his side to look down at him as your left hand soothes over his chest.

“Hi.” He smiles softly at you, then tiredly rolls over to tuck up against you. You smile at the cute action and turn onto your back to allow him to curl up against your side with his head on your chest, his right arm and leg over you keeping you there. Not that you have any intention to move quite yet.

This is nice.

Your right arm goes around his back and into his hair to play with the strands while your left hand rubs over his forearm, gentle yet firm enough that he knows you're here and not going anywhere. “How're you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Tired,” he mumbles, making you laugh softly.

“Just tired?” He hums in confirmation. “So you're good otherwise? It wasn't too much?”

“No. M'good,” he slurs a little, signalling that he truly is tired enough that sleep is already starting to claim him.

“Yeah, you are. My good boy, huh?” You tease lightly and press a kiss to the top of his head. You're pretty sure you can feel his cheek bunch up against your skin as he smiles in return.

“Your good boy,” he confirms, voice so thick that you know there's no point trying to get him up to shower or eat, even drink despite knowing he really should. It'll have to wait until he wakes.

“Mm, yeah, sleep now baby, we'll talk more later,” you reply, though you're certain he's too close to slumber to really catch the warning.

Regardless, you know that once he's awake and you're certain that he's still genuinely okay, clean and fed, you'll have to talk. A lot has changed in such a short time and hopefully, he will confirm that it's nothing more than sex for him too because the alternative has dread pooling in your gut.

You can't do this again if it's not entirely equal and you kind of have the feeling that there's no going back now that you've had each other like this. Yet, if you can't go forward because of potential feelings on his side, then you're well and truly fucked and not in the way either of you want to be.

Still, that's not something you can discuss right now so you follow Seungcheol's lead and close your eyes. You just hope that when you open them, everything will be alright.

[en-dazedafterdark]

PAIRINGS: established relationship!jake x reader

GENRE: smut, fluff?

SYNOPSIS: In which you help your boyfriend relieve his stress after his schedule

WARNINGS: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), bath tub sex, shower sex, mentions of multiple rounds, oral sex (f receiving), handjob, creampie

WORD COUNT: 4k

A/N: wish this was me </3

The interviewer was asking him a question - something about how preparations for their world tour are going - and he nodded, smiling as if he was paying attention to her. He was answering the questions she was asking, but that was all; his mind wasn't on the interview. The last few weeks of preparation for this tour had been stressful and he'd had a hell of a time keeping up his happy, energetic, cheerful persona.

The only thing on his mind at the moment was going back home to his gorgeous girlfriend. His schedule had kept them apart for way too long and it was all he could do to not just run from the interview, jump in a car, and get the hell home so he could be with her.

"So, Jake," the interviewer asked. "Is there anything you would like to say before we go?"

Jake looked up. They were done? Finally. It had felt like forever, and now he could finally get some rest. "Uh," he said. "Yeah. I guess. Um, I wanna thank everyone who has supported us. And to all our fans, I'm looking forward to seeing you all again."

And to his girlfriend, he thought. I'm gonna give you the best fucking night of your life.

The interviewer smiled and gave the closing remarks, and the cameras were turned off.

The time passed by in a blur, he was so desperate to get home that even his group mates could sense his energy.

"Dude, chill," said Jay. "You're acting like you haven't seen her in years."

"It feels like it," Jake muttered.

"Oh, leave him alone, guys," said Sunghoon. "I'd act the same if my girl was waiting at home."

Jake gave his friend a grateful smile, and they both laughed as Jay and Heeseung made exaggerated gagging sounds.

Mercifully, there was little to no traffic, and they were back home within the hour.

"I'm gonna go see my girlfriend," Jake announced, ignoring his groupmates' good-natured teasing.

"Don't you want to eat first?" Jay asked, opening the fridge and poking around inside.

"I'll order in. See you guys tomorrow," Jake called, already heading towards the door.

The apartment complex wasn't far from the company building, and soon Jake was pushing open the door and stepping into his shared home.

He was met with an immediate wave of exhaustion, and he sighed heavily. It had been a long day.

"Y/N?" he called. There was no answer, but the door to their bedroom was closed.

Jake walked over to the door and opened it, smiling softly. You were sleeping, curled up on top of the sheets, the light from the lamp on the bedside table illuminating your soft skin.

"Jake..." you murmured, not even opening your eyes.

Jake couldn't help the smile that came over his face. "How'd you know I was here?"

"I'd know your footsteps anywhere," you replied sleepily.

Jake laughed. "Of course you would.”

You sat up and stretched, blinking owlishly as your eyes adjusted to the light. "Hey, babe. Did everything go well today?"

"Mmhmm," Jake hummed, walking over to the bed and sitting down next to you. "How was your day?"

"Uneventful. But it's better now."

"Mm, I'll bet," Jake teased, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap. “I had a long day and I still need to wash up and eat something. Would you like to join me, or are you too tired?"

"I'm never too tired for you," you replied. "Let me go run you a bath."

Jake let out a contented sigh, watching as you slipped off his lap and padded into the bathroom, the door shutting softly behind you.

Jake was exhausted, but he was also incredibly stressed. His schedule had been packed full the past week, and he'd barely had time to sleep. He'd been trying to be strong and keep up his cheery demeanor, but it was wearing him down, and he was getting more and more frustrated and tired as the days went by.

And you could tell.

You knew Jake better than anyone, and you could see the strain in his shoulders, the tightness in his voice. You could see how hard he was working, and you wanted to make sure he knew how much you appreciated it.

You turned on the water and adjusted the temperature, waiting until the bath was filled with steaming hot water before adding a generous amount of the lavender-scented bubble bath. The scent filled the air and you breathed deeply, inhaling the calming aroma.

The water was just right, and you shut it off, smiling. You turned around, planning to call for Jake, only to see him standing in the doorway, a towel around his waist and his eyes closed, a peaceful expression on his face.

"Babe?" you said, concerned.

Jake opened his eyes, looking over at you. "Sorry," he said, shaking his head. "Just spacing out a little."

You nodded, giving him a small smile. "Your bath is ready. Come on, get in."

Jake followed your instructions, sighing as he sank into the water. He was tired, but he wasn't relaxed yet.

"Are you alright?" you asked, kneeling beside the tub and stroking his hair.

"Yeah," Jake mumbled, closing his eyes again. "Just tired."

"I know," you whispered, gently cupping his face in your hand. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," Jake said, leaning into your touch.

"Still," you said. "You've been working so hard. And you're so stressed."

"I'm alright," Jake insisted, smiling at you. "Don't worry."

You weren't convinced, and you knew that if you didn't help him relax, he'd never be able to get a good night's sleep.

You leaned in and kissed him gently, your hands resting on his chest. He responded immediately, kissing you back and pulling you closer.

You smiled against his lips, feeling the tension melt away from him as he wrapped his arms around you and deepened the kiss.

"Mmm," he murmured, breaking the kiss and resting his forehead against yours. "Join me.”

"Hmm?"

"Join me," he repeated, smiling.

You raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Please. I wanna hold you."

You couldn't say no to that.

You stood up, and Jake's eyes followed your movements as you stripped off your clothes. His gaze was hungry, and you felt a tingle run down your spine as you slipped out of your pants and panties. You felt a bit shy as you removed the last piece of your clothing, his eyes washing over every bit of your exposed skin.

"Come here," he murmured, and you stepped into the tub.

The water was hot, and the bubbles were thick, covering your body as you settled into his lap. Jake's hands ran down your back, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You sighed, and he smiled.

"That feel good, baby?" he murmured, kissing the side of your neck.

"Yeah," you whispered, tilting your head to give him better access.

His hands continued to explore your body, his fingers skimming over your breasts and down your sides. His touch was light, and you squirmed, the sensation sending shivers down your spine.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," Jake murmured, his voice husky.

"Shut up," you mumbled, blushing.

"I mean it," he insisted. "I've never seen a more gorgeous woman."

"Stop it," you whined, embarrassed.

"Never," Jake whispered, his voice low and gravelly. "Not when you're like this."

He leaned in and kissed you, his hands squeezing your ass. You gasped, and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

The feeling of his body against yours, his hands on your skin, his tongue in your mouth, his fingers squeezing your ass - it was too much. You felt your arousal pooling between your legs, and you pressed yourself against him, desperate for friction.

“Jakey… let me wash you off."

Jake groaned. "You're killing me, baby."

"Please," you said, kissing his jaw. "You've had a long day."

"Fine," Jake relented, his eyes dark with desire. He turned around, somewhat awkwardly in the small bath tub.

You picked up the bar of soap, lathering it up and running your hands over his back, massaging his sore muscles. He moaned, the sound sending another shiver of desire through you.

"Oh, fuck," he murmured. "That feels so good."

You continued to massage his back, taking your time and making sure you got every part of him. When you were satisfied, you moved onto his chest, and then his stomach, working your way down his body.

His erection was standing tall and proud, and you couldn't resist.

You reached out, taking him in your hand and stroking him gently.

Jake let out a gasp. "Oh, fuck, Y/N..."

"Shh," you murmured, leaning forward and kissing his shoulder. "Just relax."

You stroked him slowly, your grip firm. He moaned, his hips thrusting forward into your hand.

"That's it," you whispered. "Just let go."

"I...I can't," he panted, his hips moving in time with your movements.

"Yes, you can," you cooed, speeding up your pace.

He was so close, and you could tell he was on the edge. You kept stroking him, and he threw his head back, a groan escaping his lips as he came, his seed splashing into the water.

You held him in your hand, feeling him pulse. His head was buried in the crook of your neck, and you could feel him trembling.

"Fuck," he mumbled.

You smiled, letting go of his softening member and wrapping your arms around him.

"You okay, baby?" you whispered, nuzzling his neck.

"More than okay," he murmured. "Thank you, Y/N."

"You're welcome," you replied, kissing his temple.

He stayed like that for a few moments, his breath tickling your skin, his body relaxed against yours. Finally, he sat up, looking at you.

"Now it's your turn," he said, his eyes full of mischief.

You giggled. "Jake, I'm fine."

"No, no," he said, a smile playing on his lips. "I insist. Let me take care of you."

He took the soap, lathering it up in his hands and then placing them on your breasts, massaging the suds into your skin. You gasped, the sensation sending tingles of pleasure through you.

He took his time, massaging your breasts and teasing your nipples. His touch was gentle but insistent, and you could feel your arousal growing.

"Jake..." you murmured, closing your eyes and enjoying his ministrations.

"Feel good?" he whispered, his voice husky.

"Mmm," was all you could manage.

His hands traveled down your body, caressing your skin and leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He slipped one hand between your legs, his fingers brushing against your folds.

"Oh, fuck," you gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily.

"That's it," he murmured, his fingers moving against you, circling your clit. Your chest was heaving and if it had been any other time you would’ve been embarrassed at the way your hips were desperately moving against his hand, but at this point all you could think about was him.

"Fuck, Jake, please," you whimpered, your body aching for him. You felt warm all over, heat rising from your legs and spreading to the rest of your body.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he purred, his fingers teasing your entrance.

"I need you," you moaned, unable to contain yourself any longer. "Please, Jake, I need you inside me."

Jake groaned at the sound of you whining his name, and his hands stilled. You opened your eyes, and he was staring at you, his eyes dark with lust.

"Fuck, you're beautiful," he whispered, and you felt a wave of heat wash over you.

You looked up at him, your eyes pleading, and he leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. His tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring and dominating, and you couldn't help but moan.

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, needing him. He broke the kiss, his breath hot on your lips, and looked down at you, his gaze full of hunger and desire.

“Come closer baby. Straddle me," he growled, his voice low and gravelly.

You did as he said, straddling his hips and positioning yourself above him.

He reached down, his hands gripping your ass, and pulled you down, sheathing himself inside of you.

You cried out, the sudden sensation of him filling you sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. He groaned, his grip on you tightening as he began to move his hips, fucking you slowly.

You were a whimpering mess, the feeling of him inside you, filling you completely, driving you insane. You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, as you tried to keep up with his pace.

“Jake Jake Jake Jake..." you moaned, the sound of his name on your lips a symphony to his ears.

He was relentless, his movements fast and powerful, his hips thrusting upward as he fucked you hard and deep. His mind had gone blank as soon as he had felt your walls grip his cock, the only thing on his mind was making you fall apart.

"Look at me, baby," he murmured, and you looked up, meeting his gaze. His eyes were full of hunger and passion, and you felt your orgasm approaching, the intensity of his gaze sending you over the edge.

"Fuck," he gasped, feeling you clench around him.

He continued to thrust into you, his pace unrelenting. You were barely coherent, the sensations too much for you to handle. Your legs were shaking, your toes curled, and you were moaning his name.

"Jake, fuck, Jake..."

"Come for me, baby," he growled, his grip on your hips tightening. “Come around my cock."

You did as he said, your orgasm hitting you hard and fast. Your body trembled and shook, waves of pleasure washing over you.

He continued to fuck you, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. His fingers dug into your skin, and you felt him stiffen, his release coming seconds after yours.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck..." he muttered, his cock twitching inside of you.

The two of you were still for a moment, basking in the afterglow, before Jake pulled out of you, his softening member sliding from inside you.

"Are you alright, babe?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"Yeah," you breathed, your body still tingling.

He smiled, the expression on his face almost boyish. "Good. You're incredible, you know that?"

"You're not so bad yourself," you teased, reaching up and running your fingers through his hair.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, too," you whispered, cuddling against him.

You stayed like that for a while, enjoying the feeling of each other's bodies. Finally, Jake spoke up.

"We should get out. We're going to prune. And we should probably wash up some more. We’re sitting in cum water now.”

“Gross! I don't wanna get up," you whined, snuggling closer to him.

"Come on, baby," he said, giving you a gentle squeeze. "Let's get out and shower. And then we can cuddle in bed."

"Fine," you sighed, reluctantly pulling away from him.

You stood up, the water cascading down your body, and stepped out of the tub. Jake followed suit, and you watched as the water dripped off of his chiseled body.

"What are you looking at?" he teased, noticing the way you were ogling him.

"Nothing," you said, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

He grinned, stepping closer and kissing your cheek. "Don't worry, I'll let you stare all you want later. Right now, we need to wash up."

"Okay," you mumbled, feeling silly.

Jake turned on the shower, waiting for the water to warm up before ushering you in. You sighed, the hot water hitting your skin and relaxing your muscles.

"Feel good?" he asked, his hands resting on your hips.

"Yeah," you murmured, leaning back against him.

He smiled, and reached for the body wash, squirting some into his hands and beginning to massage it into your skin.

"Hmmm," you hummed, enjoying the feeling of his hands on you.

"Like that, huh?" he whispered, his voice low.

"Yeah," you replied, the sensation of his hands on your body making you shiver.

His hands slid from your shoulder to your back, slowly reaching to the front and cupping your breasts.

"Mmmm," you moaned, closing your eyes and letting him work his magic.

"Feels good?" he murmured, his breath hot on your ear.

"So good," you breathed, your body beginning to heat up again. “I don’t think you want to just shower right now.”

"No," he whispered, his hands moving lower, ghosting over your belly. "I want to fuck you again. Right here. In the shower."

You moaned, the thought of his hands on you, his cock inside of you, his mouth on your skin making your head spin.

“Can I taste you baby?”

His voice was thick with desire, and you could feel the tension between you.

You nodded, your words failing you, and he wasted no time. He pushed you up against the wall, his lips crashing against yours in a passionate kiss. His hands roamed your body, leaving a trail of heat everywhere he touched. You couldn't get enough of him, the feeling of his skin against yours intoxicating.

He kissed his way down your body, his lips ghosting over your sensitive nipples, sending shivers of pleasure through you. His hands cupped your breasts, gently squeezing and kneading them.

"Oh, god," you moaned, the sensation making your head spin.

"Like that, baby?" he murmured, his mouth trailing lower, leaving a path of kisses down your stomach.

"Yes," you breathed, your head falling back as his hands traveled lower, his fingers teasing your folds.

"You're so wet," he whispered, his voice husky. "So ready for me."

"Please," you begged, desperate for him to touch you, to fuck you, to make you come.

"Patience, baby," he purred, his fingers continuing to tease you, sending waves of pleasure through you.

You were a whimpering mess, the anticipation nearly unbearable. His mouth found your inner thigh, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

"Jake, please," you moaned, your body trembling with need.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he said, his tongue darting out to lick a trail up your thigh.

"I want you to eat me out," you breathed, the words leaving your lips in a rush. "I want your tongue inside me."

"As you wish, princess," he murmured, his voice low and sexy.

His mouth found your pussy immediately, his tongue lapping at your folds. The sensation was intense, and you cried out, the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive flesh almost too much.

He explored your most intimate parts, his tongue dancing over your clit and making you see stars. You were a writhing mess, the feeling of his mouth on you pushing you to the edge.

"Jake, fuck, Jake..." you moaned, your hands desperately trying to grasp at the wet tile behind you.

He increased the pressure, his tongue circling your clit and his fingers teasing your entrance.

You were lost in the pleasure, your body overwhelmed by the sensation.

"Please," you begged, your body aching for release. "Please, Jake."

He looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. He gave your clit a hard flick with his tongue, sending you hurtling over the edge. You came hard, your body convulsing, the pleasure overwhelming you.

"Oh, god," you whimpered, your body trembling as the aftershocks rippled through you.

But Jake didn’t stop. His tongue continued to lap at you, his fingers pushing into you, coaxing every last bit of pleasure from you. You were barely able to stand, your legs shaking and threatening to give out.

"Jake, please, I can't take it," you panted, your voice barely a whisper.

"One more," he demanded, his tone commanding. "You can do it baby. Give me one more."

You couldn't deny him, and you knew your body was already responding, the pleasure building again. His mouth worked its magic, his tongue finding all the right spots, his fingers curling inside of you. You were helpless against the onslaught, and before long, you were coming again, the intensity taking your breath away.

"Fuck," you cried, your body shuddering as you came.

He slowed his movements, his tongue languidly licking you, easing you down from your high. When you finally caught your breath, he looked up at you, his face glistening with your arousal.

"You okay, baby?" he asked, his voice rough and husky. You could barely hold yourself up, but you managed a nod.

"Good," he purred, getting to his feet. He kissed you, his tongue parting your lips, tasting you. You moaned, the taste of yourself on his tongue turning you on.

"God, you're so fucking hot," he groaned, his erection pressing against your leg.

"I want you," you breathed, your voice trembling.

"Then have me," he murmured, his hands cupping your ass and lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, his cock brushing against your entrance.

He pushed you against the wall, his lips crashing against yours. He entered you in one swift motion, the feeling of him stretching you making you gasp.

"Fuck," he moaned, his hips thrusting into you, burying himself deep inside of you. “Pussy so good, you were made for me weren’t you? So perfect. All mine."

"Yes," you cried, the sensation of him filling you driving you wild. "All yours."

"Fuck, yes," he growled, his hips pounding into you. You clung to him, your nails raking down his back, urging him on.

He was relentless, his hips pistoning into you, his cock hitting your sweet spot over and over again. You were lost in the pleasure, your mind foggy, only the sensation of his body against yours and his cock inside of you registering.

You were moaning incoherently, the feeling of him fucking you taking over. He buried his face in your neck, his lips and teeth teasing your skin. You were on the edge, the pleasure building, the pressure increasing.

"I'm close," you whimpered, the words leaving your lips involuntarily.

"Me, too," he grunted, his hips slamming into you, his pace quickening.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic. You felt him stiffen, his cock twitching inside of you as he came.

You were right behind him, the sensation of him coming inside of you sending you over the edge.

You came together, your bodies shuddering, the pleasure taking over. You were a panting, moaning, trembling mess, and the world faded away, the only thing that existed was the two of you and the intense pleasure.

"Holy shit," you finally breathed, when you had finally come down from your high.

"Yeah," Jake murmured, his breath warm against your neck.

You leaned against him, your body still shaking, unable to move.

He held you for a few moments, before carefully setting you down. Your legs were weak, but you managed to stand.

"I think we need another shower," he chuckled, gesturing to the mess the two of you had made.

"I don't think I can handle another round," you said, the thought of him fucking you again making your legs weak.

“Oh we’re not done, baby. I want you in my bed. All night long. But first, we have to actually shower. Then maybe dinner and drinks. And then more fun. You game?"

You nodded, the thought of spending the night with him making you giddy.

"Good. Now let's wash up and get out of here. I'm starving." And a loud grumble echoed throughout the bathroom, which could only be Jake's stomach.

You laughed, and pulled him in for a kiss. "Sounds like a plan."

"Perfect. Because there's so much more I want to do to you," he purred, his voice sending shivers down your spine.

"Then let's get started," you whispered, a wicked grin spreading across your face.

It would take an hour and three more orgasms for the two of you to leave the bathroom. And that was only the beginning.

[fluff-n-cookies]

Thinking about yandad Dabi and his child who's now around 9-11 years old. Your writing has absolutely captivated me <3

Dabi starts getting more possessive, more protective, and certainly more assertive. He's your dad, after all—you HAVE to listen to him, no? It's too dangerous to go outside without him keeping an eye on you, you're still so tiny and fragile. He'll be damned if his kid steps foot out of the apartment without his say so, no ifs or buts.

After a long day of setting people on fire and committing various crimes, Dabi just wants to scoop you up into a bone-crushing hug and plop down onto the couch to snuggle his baby, paying no mind to your complaints.

While he's soft and affectionate towards you, it's a completely different story when it comes to others. Dabi is ruthless and aggressive, destroying anyone and anything that may try to take you away–much less harm you. It doesn't matter how small, Dabi will turn it into ashes without remorse. If you somehow figure out about his actions and try to make a run for it? He'd be crushed, obviously–Dabi can't stand the thought of you fearing him. Rest assured, he'd track you down and bring you back home, suffering you in cuddles while scolding you. He's your dad–you need to listen to him.

(Btw sorry about how long this became didn't realize I was ranting)

omg hi???? thank you for gracing me with this masterpiece??? wtf???? (lovingly)

For those who don't know, this post is related to these

Pt 1, Pt 2

and this is all so fucking true. I plan on making a longer fic on this (sorry to say that I haven't drafted it yet, I'm working on overhaul posts)

but he's so paranoid, so utterly terrified 24/7, he dead bolts all the doors and windows at night and only lets you go outside between 11 AM and 5PM unless it's for school.

speaking of which, he hates them for giving his baby so much homework and taking away from their time together buuttt he genuinely believes you need to get your education, don't skip out on highschool like he did.

and he does this thing, this god awful thing, after dinner, after your daily shower, and after getting you all nice and snuggly for bed and into your cat pajamas. he'll do this thing where he'll hold you tight to his chest while he flicks through the news channel.

now normally this would be fine, perfectly fine, if I weren't for the fact he either goes to true crime channels where they display the horrific acts of villains (himself included) live. he tells you that the world is a horrifying place, that that's how he burned himself, how painful it was, the scorching flames. he doesn't mean to traumatize you, it's just to warn you!

either that, or he'll go to news channels covering endeavor's problems, scandals, recent missions, interviews. please don't ask who that strange man with eyes like yours is. he'll hold you tighter and say in the lightest voice possible. "he's a bad man, don't you dare go near him, he'll hurt you like he hurt me."

don't say anything else after that.

he's just tired, so tired, and you're there, right when he gets home after running "errands". you're his reminder of what he's working towards, this future with no heroes and no pain that he's trying to build. the revenge he longs for and the aftermath where you thrive. really, you're the reason he gets up in the morning these days, the reason he stopped smoking in the house, the reason why there's no more beer in the fridge, only tenderly made lunches that he makes every Sunday to prepare for the week.

you're like this stress ball, this hit of Serotonin and Dopamine and what not. every time you smile he can feel his heart clenching. when he looks at you, he sees the boy he once used to be, happy. you're so happy, so pure.

he refuses to let you go out much, his reasoning being that the world's a terrible place. when you ask what's his job, what he does at "work" every day, he only chuckles.

"Oh baby, I'm trying to makes this world a better place, my job is to try and stop all the bad things from happening. I'm a type of... Freedom fighter, really."

and he so, so, so so so so so so sweet to you. you have never known Dabi, ruthless arsonist and serial killer. you have never known Touya, a boy lost in his own insanity and deprivation of paternal love. both are vicious, people, downright insane. one's a criminal the other's incapable of ever recovering from his own madness and fury.

the only person you know is your Dad, Dad's a nice guy, he plays doll house and dress up with you and watches cartoons with you every morning before school. he lets you wear his jacket when you're cold and left yours at school in your cubby, and he takes you out for donuts or ice cream monthly. sure, he doesn't have money, he can't buy you that many toys and sometimes they turn the light off because he missed too many bills, but he loves you. that's all you need to know.

Dad is a kind person, he's not Dabi or Touya, he's definitely not a hero. he's your dad.

And Dad does the best job of gas-lighting you to hell and back. you want to go outside after 5 or before 11? welp, he's not coming with you, sorry honey, maybe tomorrow. what do you mean you'll go anyway? the boogeyman'll get you! (it's him, he's the boogeyman, he knows you won't last a second out in the real world with your loving father's help and he's going to exploit it the moment you start to show independence.)

but it's very unlikely that Dabi would ever even get the chance to do this when you're 9-11 years old, you know why? because you'll be in Endeavor's custody by then. I refuse to elaborate since then I'll be spoiling the plot of Part 3 and I don't want that.

P.S. you wanna be tagged?

[pe4cht3a]

⋆˙ enchanted ˙⋆

celebrity!killua x celebrity!reader

── .✦ a/n: so this one shot was for a req that glitched out of my inbox awhile back, n this fic has js been chilling in my drafts since then. ur dear is having an exam tmrw so pls enjoy these bits of crumbs of killua :p

city lights flashing vibrantly, sparkling as the traffic buzzed in the central of yorknew.

in the heart of all the beautiful modernity, dusk had laid its touch onto the society.

“i’m telling you killua, you seriously have to start being more polite during interviews, as well as meet and greets!” kurapika frantically turned around and yelled after he finished a particularly unpleasant phone call.

“let me guess. my pa threatened to fire you and disown me again?” the unbothered albino questioned as he mindlessly scrolled on his phone, lazing around in his personal dressing room of the grammy’s event. “you know how serious silva is about your career, killua.” the blonde stressed as he felt a migraine coming up any time soon. “chill pika. i’ll make sure you stay as my manager, kay?” killua assured, eyes still glued to his mobile device.

kurapika closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. “alright, get up killua! time to get into your outfit! you have only 2 more hours left before the award ceremony starts!” the poor blonde clapped his hands as he started directing assistants to pamper the young celebrity.

killua zoldyck, was a child star due to his mother and father discovering he had “talent” and was also the most good-looking out of their many children at a young age. killua had a successful acting career as a young child until he was 14. afterwards, he ventured into the music industry and was just as successful, due to already being well known by the media and previous fans of his many shows and movies.

a few halls down, was the dressing room for y/n, a new star in the music industry.

you were once a child model, and did multiple advertisement gigs. once you hit puberty, your parents pulled you out of the public eye so you could focus on your personal life and on your studies. fortunately for you, you were born for the spotlight! you dropped out of college to pursue a music career, and it immediately took off!

“pika, i don’t get it. why is my pa so much more worried recently? its pretty fucking annoying.” killua rolled his eyes as he cheekily questioned his manager who was standing from afar as assistants dressed the star. “god, you’re so clueless.” kurapika face palmed as he began to pull out his phone. “huh? what do you mean by that?” the silverette cockily smirked.

“its all because of her.” kurapika shoved his phone into killua’s face, which made killua slightly back up. what was on kurapika’s phone was google results of many articles of a female celebrity named “y/n l/n”.

“who the hell is this bitch?” killua asked plainly as he looked back at his manager with a sense of annoyance. “she’s been your biggest opponent in the music industry currently, for the past year.” the blonde sighed, no longer surprised from his employer’s ignorance. “yeah right. she’s a chick, she’s in a totally different category from me!” the albino brushed off with an overflowing amount of confidence. “killua, ever since she gained popularity, your coverage in the media has decreased significantly! your father and i are very concerned by the effects that individual has been causing to your popularity.” the stressed manager was about to lose his mind, any second. “okaaayyy pikaaaa!” killua pouted as the assistants at last, finally finished dressing him up in his tuxedo.

“you seriously have me suicidal.”

“don’t be so dramatic!”

“you look so good y/n! i knew the dress i picked out for you would make you look stunning!” bisky exclaimed as she pumped her fist up in a rush of pride and excitement. “theres a reason my mom chose you as my manager.” you sheepishly smiled, still not over the fact of how much the whole outfit costed. bisky, your manager with a handful amount of experience under her belt, definitely was not afraid to put you in pricey things, she thinks it makes you look elegant while also discreetly hoping for one of the luxury brands to make you their brand ambassador!

the hall was now filled to the brim with a variety of celebrities and stars, all gathered for the well-known grammy’s award ceremony. you stepped into the humongous hall, star-struck by how cool everything is! the fact this was now your reality! you cautiously walked to your designated seat, anxiety bubbling up in your stomach by how all the older and well-known in the industry celebrities were so intimidating!

killua walked into the hall unfazed, he’d been in the spotlight for his entire life with no breaks, this was all way too normal for him. the handsome silverette non-chalantly sat down at his designated seat, crossing his legs casually.

hours had passed as the ceremony went on as expected, that is until the category that was crucial to you had approached.

“alright ladies and gentlemen! and the winner for female artist of the year isssss…” the host at the stage dramatically announced as she started opening an envelope that contained the results. you could feel your palms become sweaty, your heart racing up erratically, your legs shaking and a lump in your throat from the anticipation. this moment was absolutely everything to you.

“the winner for female artist of the year is.. Y/N! ROUND OF APPLAUSE FOR HER, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” the host joyfully yelled into the mic.

“huh?” you quietly let out, unaware of what just happened. the winner is who? you? what? the winner is y/n? YOU? YOU WON? YOU WON AN AWARD AT THE GRAMMY’S?

you rose from your seat, legs subtly still shaking, as you proceeded to the stage while smiling back at the crowd. your mind was filled with rushing thoughts and your heart beamed with happiness.

as you stepped up onto the stage and got ahold of the mic and award, you started thanking everyone and such. while you were so distracted by your shining success, a specific pair of sapphire eyes were fixated on you.

killua examined you meticulously as you expressed your gratitude and whatever the fuck you were going about. he really couldn’t be bothered to focus on your words.. he was far too distracted by you, yourself.

you. the way your smile was so warm and vivacious. the way your glossy hair shined under the blinding stage lights. the way your glittering eyes sparkled with a sense of ambition and hunger for beyond. the way your dress hugged your curves, as if you were masterfully sculpted to be otherworldly charming. the way your movements were so mesmerising, it was almost hypnotic to him. the way your nails were done and manicured to perfectly match your whole look. they way you were was simply so enchanting to killua, yet he didn’t even realise it yet. he was completely disconnected from his surroundings.

all of a sudden, the albino was pulled back to reality when a heavy round of applause interrupted his moment of admiration for you, it seems your speech was over. killua was surprised his whole thought process stopped so abruptly, it felt like as if all he could hear earlier was his own heartbeat, despite your speech and cheers from the crowd, and all he could see was you, despite the ocean of other celebrities.

as you stepped off stage, giddy and holding your grammy’s award. killua placed his pointer finger over his mouth and proceeded to stare at the floor. what just happened to him? sure, he had his fair share of scandalous affairs with models exposed by the paparazzi’s.. but that one small snippet of you felt like something completely foreign and unknown to him. fuck, he had to see you. you were irresistible.

once the grammy’s award ceremony had officially ended, everyone returned back to their personal dressing rooms to pack up and to slip out of the uncomfortable outfits.

“killua! where are you going? go back to your dressing room with me! what the hell!” kurapika shouted down the hallway as killua bolted passed kurapika and his room, with no words.

“fuck everything, i have to find that woman.” killua muttered under his breath as he ran passed all the other rooms, looking up at the name plagues, hoping to spot yours soon.

eventually, the silverette stopped outside your dressing room, as he finally spotted “y/n l/n” hung on one door. before killua could knock, the door opens.

“oh! hi mr killua! this is ms y/n’s room, can i help you with anything?” the youthful looking woman questioned in surprise. “uh yeah, who are you?” killua asked as he started poking his head above bisky’s shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of you inside.

“AHEM. mr killua, i am ms y/n’s manager, biscuit krueger. now, can i help you with anything?” the cute lady shockingly sounded like a fierce middle-aged woman.

“i need to see y/n.” killua requested rashly, his head still in a daze. “hold on a minute, please.” bisky pointed her finger upwards before she disappeared into the room. killua stood patiently, as he eventually heard a foreign set of footsteps approaching the door from the other side.

“oh, hello. may i help you?”

“have sex with me.”

“what the fuck?”

“im just kidding. can i have your number though?”

“aren’t you that child actor who became a singer?”

“yeah.”

“hm, why not. here, i’ll type it in for you.”

“thanks!”

“also, i’ll think about the sex part.”

killua then soon witnessed the sight of you minimising, as the door shut on him, before he could even process what was just uttered to him.

[innerempire]

Peter who is Tony’s personal assistant - the only personal assistant who has actually stuck through him for more than two years. Prior to Peter, all of Tony’s past PA(s) were people who had resigned within 24 hours (and left in absolute tears) because they simply couldn’t cope with the stress.

Peter deals with everything; handling the older male’s hectic schedules, enduring crazy ex-partners and slighted flings who show up here and there and hey, he’s had coffee and juice, whatever-you-name it thrown in his face. Before anything even reaches Tony’s desk, be it an interview request or social invite, it’s strictly screened by Peter first.

He works round the clock basically. It’s high stress, but the monetary compensation is….Peter thinks he might be set for life if he keeps it up for another couple of years.

“So, remember, you’ve got that in-person interview with Ms Bellford at 6 today. I’ve screened all the questions, but I’ve got Happy on standby just in case she goes off script and-“

Tony frowns, “You’re not going to be there?”

“Uh-“ Peter glances up from his new yet-to-be-released Stark Industries-issued tablet. “I requested for time off for today a month and a half ago. You signed off on it.”

Tony has that particular look on his face which tells Peter that the older male doesn’t remember doing anything of that sort.

“Tony-“ Peter really can’t cancel because this is the third time he’s rescheduling this date with a guy he’s sort of hit it off with from a dating app four months ago. “I need to turn up for my date, because my social life is non-existent as it is.”

“…you don’t count being with me as socializing? Also, a date? First time I’m hearing of it.”

“You’re my boss - I have to socialize with you.”

“Ouch.”

“And it’s the first time I’m mentioning it because the previous two dates didn’t happen. But it needs to happen today because he seems somewhat decent.” Peter hopes so, at least.

Tony leans back in his chair, “Well, I hope Mr.Decent is taking you somewhere nice.”

“Mm, whatever is “nice” in my vocab would probably be “peasant-like” in yours.” Because Tony has ridiculously fancy taste. “I think it’s some fine-dining Korean restaurant in West Village.” Peter glances at his watch. “…and if I want to make a good first impression, I really need to leave.” He gives Tony an imploring look. “Uh, would it be too much to tell you not to call me if you don’t need me?”

Tony grins at Peter, teasing, “But I always need you.”

“Not this evening, you don’t.” Peter quips. “Anyway, behave, don’t terrorize the interviewer, please. She seens genuinely interested in the company’s progress, so - best behavior, please.”

“See, that’s why you need to be there. I’m always the best version of myself when you’re around.”

“Uh huh.” Peter deadpans. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr.Stark.”

- / -

“Uh…what do you mean it’s closed? I thought we made reservations.” Peter asks his date over the phone.

“Yeah, a month ago. But someone from the restaurant called me just now and said they’re closed because of a sudden emergency.”

Peter tries not to feel too bummed. He had been looking forward to dining at the restaurant since they made plans for it.

“Oh…then, should we go elsewhere?” Peter suggests.

“Well, it’s a Friday and anywhere else nice is probably fully booked out.”

Peter wonders if this third failed attempt at a date is the Universe’s way of telling him that things with this particular person is not meant to be. Look, he’s not insanely superstitious, but surely it means something?!

“…maybe next time?”

Both of them agree on next time, but Peter thinks there’s not going to be one. He sighs as he ends the call. Well, he could just order in and spend the night actually resting, but instead, Peter finds himself re-entering the office tower and making his way up to the topmost floor and back to his own personal office (truly a perk)

“Someone’s passionate about their job. What happened to a date with Mr.Decent?” Is the first thing that Tony asks when he pops in.

Peter simply sighs, and it’s then that he realizes Tony’s tie is slightly crooked. He gets out of his chair and closes the distance between them, nimble fingers adjusting the tie to sit nicely.

“The restaurant had to close all of a sudden. Last minute emergency.”

“A well-prepared man would have made back up plans.” Tony remains still as Peter fusses over him.

“I kinda thought so too.” Peter admits, hands sweeping along the lapels of his boss’s suit jacket. “It’s weird - I’m disappointed, but I’m not that disappointed?” He shrugs his shoulders.

“Well. I, for one, am glad.”

- / -

It’s Peter’s third year of overseeing that the Stark Expo runs smoothly, but it’s still as anxiety-inducing as ever. The moment Tony ends his speech, Peter heaves a sigh of relief, knowing that the most important aspect of the expo was over. Now, the attendees would be mingling and networking and Peter could finally enjoy a glass of wine. Or two.

“Can I assume that it’s finally safe to approach you?”

Peter lets out a laugh as he accepts the glass of red wine being handed to him, “Fashionably late as always, Quentin.”

“Mm, it’s on purpose really. I don’t really need to waste twenty minutes of my time listening to Stark stroke his own ego.”

Quentin Beck was one of their biggest competitors to date, and frankly, he was smart enough that it kept Tony on his toes.

“You look great.” Quentin comes in for a hug which Peter reciprocates. “It’s the third year of you handling Stark Expo, and my third time trying my luck at poaching you for myself.”

Peter had to give it to Quentin for his persistance, “Better luck next year.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Then…how about trying my luck for something non business related? Coffee, dinner?”

Peter grins up at Quentin, “Are you asking me out?” He can’t deny that that they’ve always engaged in flirty banter whenever they meet.

“Mm hmm, and I know there’s a conflict of interest somewhere, but I truly can’t bring myself to give a fuck.”

He nearly snorts the wine up his nose, playfully swatting Quentin on the shoulder. He’s giving the thought some consideration because Quentin is smart and a looker, and he’a older too, somewhere along Tony’s age, and that’s always a plus. But he doesn’t get to dwell on it much longer when Tony comes to join them.

He doesn’t seem too pleased to see Quentin, startling Peter slightly be resting his hand against the dip of Peter’s back. As if staking his claim over his own personal assistant.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He doesn’t sound apologetic at all, and Peter’s instantly whisked away before he manages to get a word out to Quentin. “What is it? Do you need something, Mr.Stark?” Peter asks, absolutely confused once they’re quite a distance away from the crowd.

Tony eases his hold slightly around Peter’s waist,” There should really be laws about fraternizing with the enemy.”

“You’re exaggerating. You know how Quentin is.”

“Yes, and I don’t like it one bit of how he was looking at you.”

“…careful, Mr.Stark. Your jealousy’s showing.”

Peter waits for Tony to laugh, but it doesn’t come.

No way Tony Stark is jealous.

Peter doesn’t know what to do all of a sudden, not with his boss staring him down. He’s self-conscious of their proximity all of a sudden.

“Mr.Stark-“

“I don’t really take too well to sharing, both professionally and personally.”

- / -

[ts1m1kas]

Original Ask: I would like to request a Jenson Button x driver!reader they have been rivals since their karting days and Jenson has been crushing on reader for years. He flirts with her every chance he gets but she's completely oblivious to it since she thinks he's just doing it to distract her from the race and she hates him for it since she's not taken seriously by the drivers and reporters because of it. So Jensen wins the championship and he throws a big party with the team. Reader attends to congratulate him so they partied and they have a heart to heart conversation in which they finally confess their feelings to each other.. (anonymous)

Word Count: 1120 words

(author's note: i can't tell if this is bad or not, i've been slightly stressed out due to my job so i hope the jenson girlies enjoy this 🥹)

When Jenson began carting at a young age, he thought he would walk away with trophies and medals. He did get both of those things, but he also developed a crush on a girl who was convinced he hated her.

Y/N L/N was the bane of Jenson’s existence. He would say his rival if anyone asked him what she was to him, mainly because he was far too embarrassed to admit that he was completely and utterly in love with her.

Both Jenson and Y/N had successful carting careers and, despite their rivalry, made it to Formula 1 at the same time. Jenson signed with Williams and Y/N signed for Red Bull. Although the pair were much older now, their childhood competitiveness had followed them into F1 which caused many disputes between the two drivers.

Their careers in motorsports flourished and Jenson moved to Brawn GP, where he would unknowingly win the Championship. But the longer Y/N stayed in Formula 1, the more unbearable the reporters became. Question after question about her and Jenson, their ‘relationship’ and if being a female driver was more difficult.

It was the final race of the 2009 season and the Abu-Dhabi air was stifling. Y/N stood outside the Red Bull garage, holding a microphone for the interview that was about to begin.

“So, final race of the season. Are you nervous?” The interviewer asked.

“Well, I’m nervous before every race if I’m honest. The last race of the season is worse though because the stakes are always so much higher.”

“How do you feel about Jenson’s position in the Championship? If he finishes in the points this race he’s pretty much guaranteed a win?”

“What does Jenson have to do with me? I’m glad he’s performing well but that doesn’t affect me at all. I’m my own driver, not an extension of Jenson.”

“Right, sorry I apologise.”

At that moment Jenson walked past and was caught by the cameras. When he realised it was Y/N being interviewed he turned around and smiled at her.

“You look gorgeous today Y/N, it's gonna be hard for me to concentrate on the race knowing you look that good!” Jenson shouted over at her, throwing her a wink at the same time.

Y/N shifted uncomfortably on the spot, she knew all too well what was coming.

“Do you think it’s fair that your gender can become a distraction for the other drivers, especially ones who have important races coming up?”

Jenson was mortified, he didn’t realise that his stupid joke was going to cause the interviewer to ask such an inappropriate question.

“I was only joking around, she isn’t actually a distraction to us. Y/N deserves to be here as much as the rest of us-”

“I’m finished with this interview, thank you for having me,” Y/N stated, passing the microphone back to the interviewer. She disappeared into the garage, leaving Jenson outside with an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

Before they knew it, all the drivers sat in their cars, lined up and ready to race. The lights went out slowly and they set off. It was an exciting race throughout and by the end, Sebastian came out on top, followed by Y/N and then Jenson.

However, the amount of points gave Jenson his first Championship win, and he couldn’t be happier. Of course, all the journalists, reporters and interviewers forgot to congratulate Y/N on her P2 finish. She was overlooked. Again.

Celebrations were in full force for Jenson’s win. His house was packed with drivers and team staff and the sound of music and cheers filled the room. Drinks were flowing and the evening air was cool as it seeped into the room through the open patio doors.

Y/N had turned up to the party, but only because Sebastian had forced her. Part of her was cheering for Jenson but another part of her remembered how he had toyed with her feelings all those years. She moved through the masses of bodies and grabbed a drink.

Eventually, the pounding of the music and heat from the people became too much and Y/N headed outside onto the balcony. She took a deep breath, allowing the bitter air to fill her lungs. Gazing at the sun that had begun to set, she didn’t realise she was no longer alone on the balcony.

“Congrats on P2, you drove incredibly,” A voice said, cutting into the silence.

Y/N spun her head around, her face dropping when she realised it was Jenson.

“Oh, thanks. I should be congratulating you though. How does it feel to be a World Champion?”

“Pretty good, I’m not gonna lie. While I’m here, I just want to apologise for earlier. I didn’t think before I spoke and I didn’t realise that my stupid, distasteful joke would make you be treated like that.”

“It’s fine, I’m used to it. It’s nothing new, questions like that have been asked since our karting days.”

“It’s still not right. Especially when everyone thinks my feelings for you are just a joke.”

Jenson froze after he realised what he said. Y/N’s eyes widened as she looked up at him.

“You- You like me? You’re telling me that you’ve been telling the truth all along?”

Jenson scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “This isn’t how I wanted to tell you, but yeah. I like you. I have since our first kart race. I knew the minute we built up our rivalry that I wanted to be more than friends. But all this time I thought you hated me. So I kept quiet-”

“Jenson.”

“I didn’t know how to speak to you about it. I also thought you would reject me and I didn’t want the media to scrutinise you more than they already do. I just-”

“Jenson!”

Jenson stopped his rambling at the sound of Y/N’s raised voice.

“I like you too. I can’t believe I thought you were pretending to like me all along.”

Staring intently at each other, Jenson leaned down and closed the gap between the pair. He captured Y/N’s lips in a soft kiss and she smiled into it. When they finally pulled away, Y/N wrapped her arms around Jenson’s middle and squeezed, enveloping him in a hug.

Jenson leaned his head onto Y/N’s and the pair stayed tangled in the warm embrace of each other as the sun finally disappeared and was replaced by the moon. Stars twinkled in the sky, but nothing shined brighter than the smile on Jenson’s face as he looked down at the girl he had pined for all those years.

[homelanderbutbig]

Perfect Just The Way You Are (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1910 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

Homelander needs some serious TLC, even if he can't properly fit inside your house.

It's late in the evening, a quiet one for you. You're alone in your own house, eyes glued to your phone while you plod away mindlessly in the kitchen.

Today is Homelander's birthday, or at least the day Vought has chosen for him. He's made remarks about how it's not his real birthday, but you've never been able to get him to tell you much more than that.

He's been out all day, flying throughout the city for the schedule Vought laid out for him. Doing meet-and-greets, photoshoots, interviews, staged saves, the whole shebang. And his revelries conclude with a televised event celebrating his birthday. Since your relationship with him is still a secret, you weren't able to join him in the festivities. You promised you'd be watching the event, cheering your boyfriend on the whole time. But as the night progresses, you begin to discern the way his smile seems a tad too forced, his restless eyes betraying the cheery grin plastered across his face. You imagine as much as he likes it, being paraded around for hours with no breaks would be draining for even a normal man.

He's talked to you before about his mixed feelings towards the public; on one hand, he revels in the adoration his fans shower him in. He lives and breathes for praise, it's all he's ever known. And yet, he is always acutely aware of their fear in his presence. Everyone he meets is significantly shorter than him, even those who would be considered 'tall' by human standards.

And these feelings are amplified on his birthday, where he is forced to face his insecurities on live television. With the world's eyes solely on him, dissecting him.

On his inhuman size.

"Thanks for watching everyone, goodnight! God bless America!" Homelander salutes the audience, as the event concludes with uproarious applause. You can't help but grin at his showmanship, he just has such a way with crowds. As the event switches to listing its various sponsors, you turn your phone off and wonder what to do next. Should you call him? Catch a taxi back to Vought Tower?

Suddenly, your questions are answered as you hear the recognizable sound of Homelander touching down. Opening the front door, you see him standing on your lawn, dimly lit by the streetlights behind his form. His face is a bit hard to make out in the dark, but it's pretty obvious even from his body language that he is incredibly stressed. With his birthday finally over, the weight of the day is crashing down on him. All he wants now is to be alone with you, to have your undivided love and attention.

However, as much as you want to invite him in, you realize his height is a couple feet taller than your front door and his shoulders are quite a bit wider than the door frame. He wouldn't be able to shimmy his way in without destroying your entrance and attracting nosy neighbours. Luckily, you're quick to think of another solution.

"Follow me honey," you say, closing the door and making your way to your patio entrance nearby the kitchen. It's a sliding door, which while the same height, is twice the width. He meets you there as you open the two panels for him, giving him a wide enough entrance to crawl through. A bit undignified for the leader of The Seven, to crawl on his hands and knees like a child, but he desperately needs to be with you in this moment.

Once inside, he nestles himself into the corner of your kitchen, sitting on the floor with his arms wrapped around his knees, a futile attempt to make himself smaller. It's as comfortable as he's going to get, in a space so tiny… in a normal space.

Usually, he does everything in his power to avoid going into buildings not accommodated for his height. Vought Tower was specifically designed to fit him, but the rest of the world is not. Even when he was younger in the lab, he had to bend down when he grew too tall to avoid the shorter ceilings. He always hated that, the constant reminder of his monstrous nature and how he will never be 'normal'.

And now here he is again, the claustrophobia creeping up his spine as he has to come to terms with his size. Your cramped kitchen might be fine for you, but he can't even stand up in here without breaking something.

After one last look outside to make sure nobody saw Homelander sneaking into your home, you lock the patio door and saunter over to the kitchen to see how your boyfriend is handling everything. And to be honest, you're not surprised to see him huddled in a corner dissociating. The two of you have never went anywhere else other than his penthouse, the sole place on earth built for him. You can't imagine what it's like to live an existence where everything is too small for you.

"Hey baby boy," you console him, snapping his attention back to you once you place your hand on his arm. "What's the matter?"

"I-I…" he stammers, swallowing hard as he fights back tears. He laments having to express his true feelings, admitting his faults. "I-I'm too big…"

You give him an understanding smile. It was bad enough that he had to endure his birthday being put on display for the world to gawk at him, now he has to curl up in a room not made for him just to be in your proximity.

"No you're not sweetheart. You're perfect just the way you are. If nobody else can see that, it's their loss," you reassure him, moving closer to his side to give his big head a hug. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, allowing your fingers to scratch at his undercut. He hesitates at first, but he rapidly relaxes into your affections. He inhales deep through his nose as he leans further into your chest; your scent and your heartbeat do wonders for his nerves.

Pulling away from him, you cup his cheek with your hand, feeling him gently rub into your palm. His expression is still exhausted, but his eyes shimmer with an unspoken appreciation to your compassion. You're the only one who makes him feel this way, the only person who truly cares for him and sees him for something more than just a giant freak.

"I baked you a cake, for your birthday," you explain. "But you can't have dessert until you have a proper dinner. Let me make you something quick, okay?"

Homelander watches silently as you scurry around the kitchen, filling a large pot with 3 litres of water and taking out three packets of Lipton chicken noodle soup mix from your cupboard. He knows you're just trying to be considerate, making sure he has enough to eat, but he can't help but tense his jaw knowing he can consume so much more than you. Just another reminder of how different he is from everyone else.

"This'll only take five minutes," you tell him, seeing him give you a brief nod before you turn back to keep an eye on the soup.

With you preoccupied, he decides to use his X-ray vision to look around the rest of your abode. It's not a shock to him that a simple human like yourself would operate under such a state of disarray; no place is complete without a stack of unread books, coffee cups left behind from days prior, and clothing thrown haphazardly on the ground. The way you live is a total juxtaposition to the order and neatness of his penthouse and by proxy his life. It's almost comical how he puts up with you. But at the same time, it's the mess that makes you human. He had that aspect beaten out of him as a child. He had to be 'perfect' as the world's greatest superhero, as Vought's poster boy. He was never allowed any opportunity to be anything else.

"Here you go," you abruptly pull him out of his thoughts, handing him the pot of soup with your oven mitts on. He grasps it without much thought, the heat from the stove not affecting him in the slightest. Ogling the strange concoction for a moment, he lifts the pot up to his mouth and quickly gulps down the soup. Its taste is peculiar, clearly manufactured… but somehow oddly comforting.

"Okay, now that you've eaten…" you begin, taking the pot back and leaving it in the sink. "Now it's time for dessert!"

He continues watching while you pull the cake out from your fridge. With a knife you cut two pieces and carry both plates over to where he sits, handing him the larger slice. It's a pretty plain cake considering the fancy affairs he's attended, but you made this for nobody else, it's purely for him. You poured your heart and soul into the batter, to express your love for him through food. Something nobody's ever done for him before, cooking for him not out of necessity but out of kindness.

"You can eat it hun, it doesn't taste that bad," you chuckle as you see him staring blankly at the cake. In the minute he's been eyeballing the dessert, you already finished yours. He blushes once he realizes he's just been contemplating the meaning it instead of eating it. Shaking off the awkwardness he picks up the piece of cake and fits the entire slice into his mouth. His tongue dances at the sweet taste, enraptured in a way he's never experienced. Sure, he's eaten cake before, but this is different. This was made special for his birthday.

You take the plate from him, putting the dishes into the sink before walking back over to him. He seems to be a lot calmer now, compared to when he first landed on your lawn.

"Happy birthday Homelander," you remark, kissing him. You feel him melt even further into your lips, placing one of his massive hands on your back. His fingers are strong, pulling you ever so closer to him, but still delicate enough that you feel safe with him. And that's all you've ever wanted, for him to be secure with his size around you, because you trust him. After you break from your kiss, you keep your forehead up against his. "How about we fly back to the penthouse and sleep together, huh? You can cuddle in my arms tonight."

"Hmmm… yeah. I'd like that," he hums happily, never one to pass up an opportunity to snuggle with you. "But… in a minute. I just… I just want to spend a little more time here."

It's a bizarre sensation to admit to. When he first entered your home he dreaded how miniscule it was compared to his size, but the longer he's been in here, those feelings switched entirely. He's come to notice the familiar scent of you permeating the walls, the way you've decorated each room with distinct keepsakes, how you've made this place an extension of yourself. A part of him never wants this moment to end, he wants to explore every inch of this house. Rummage through your knick knacks, flip through your photo albums, bury himself in your blankets.

He hopes sometime in the future, he can return here. And you can show him it all.

[holidayinhell]

Interview

CWs: references to noncon, violence

1. Would you rather - Rope or Chains?

R: Rope.

W: Chains, dear god, chains any day. Ropes fucking burn.

2. If Whumpee had multiple Whumpers, who is their favourite? For Whumpers, which Whumpee was your favourite?

R: Yeah, I’ve got a favorite. A couple years back I had a Whumpee who fought me at every turn. He'd throw his food at me, cuss me out, and try to attack me. One time he scratched absolute shit outta my arms. Anyways, I got tired of his shitty attitude and decided to kill him. I didn't keep it a secret, I told him he was gonna die. But when I went in to do it, he changed completely. No more screaming, no spark in his eye. He got quiet. Heh, he got all lovey dovey with me even. You know, lots of people say they’ll do anything if only you’ll spare their life. I never did cash in on that promise, but on this Whumpee, I put it to the fucking test. Heh. He let me do whatever I wanted to him. Depraved, horrible things, that would make the most degenerate man blush. Heh, and even though he was crying through most of it, he still pretended to like everything I did to him. And god. You should’ve seen his eyes when I told him I was still gonna kill him. That look. I think about it still.

W: I can’t. glances over at Whumper. Next question please.

3: In your opinion, what is the best way to train a pet?

R: Humans are fickle fucking beasts. You have to break down someone’s pride in order to train them. I start off with food deprivation, that usually helps me gauge what kind of fight I’m in for.

W: Positive reinforcement has always worked for me… I’ve only ever had a pet bearded dragon though.

4: Broken ribs or bullet wound? 

R: Both.

W: These questions are uncomfortable to answer. But, uh, bullet wound I guess. Assuming it didn’t graze any organs.

5: Preferred type of gag? 

R: I like a fabric gag. Or a simple piece of duct tape. Sometimes they come off and I get to squeeze a little scream out of Whumpee, and then I put a fresh one right back on. I kinda like the cycle of it.

W: I don’t have a preference… none? I guess the metal bit one isn't the worst of them. It hurts my teeth but at least I can still kinda breathe.

6: Burned or stabbed?

R: Stabbed.

W: Stabbed, I guess?

7: Favourite stress position? 

R: An old-fashioned hogtie. I guess I’m unimaginative but I don’t get too crazy into the BDSM shit. Who has the patience for that?

W: Uhh.. just, handcuffs behind my back. Something relatively comfortable.

8: Have you given or received any Brands? What do they signify?

R: Heh. No. Never been branded. I certainly have had my fun branding Whumpee though.

W: I… have two… Uhm. One on my chest that, thank Christ, is almost all the way healed. It said, uh, swine. The other one is on my back, it’s a lot worse. I don’t know what it says but I can feel it so it’s um, it’s here to stay, I guess.

R: It says Nice Try. Remember?

W: Not really.

R: From your second half-hearted escape attempt. Didn't realize you forgot. But I did hit you pretty fucking hard that night.

9: Broken arm or broken leg? 

R: Leg.

W: Arm. A million times, arm.

10: How did you get here? Why are you the way that you are?

R: I live here. Far as I know, I’ve always been 'like this'-- whatever the hell that means. And I don’t see a problem with it. We’re all free to do as we like, so that’s what I fucking do.

W: I dunno. I, I was outside, it was dark and I think it was raining…yeah… heading home from the bar. I didn’t drink that much. I didn’t live that far, either, so the rain wasn’t a problem. I remember falling down and then… I woke up here. And I’ve been here ever since.

11: What is your biggest regret?

R: I wish this Whumpee could’ve learned a thing or two from my defiant Whumpee in the second question you asked. I wanna get my dick sucked like that every fucking night.

W: Regrets... yeah, I've got a few. One stands out. It was late at night, Whumper didn't tie me up. I snuck out of my cell and I made it to the steps. Almost to the top, nearly all the way out. The door was unlocked and cracked open a little, I thought I could make a run for it and—

R: —I was waiting for you at the top. Heh. I wanted to see if you'd run, and you sure tried to. Not so much after that, though.

12: Is there a line you won’t cross? For Whumpee, what do you most fear Whumper might do?

R: A line I wouldn’t cross? Uhhh…. No. No, I don’t think so. I’ll cross any fucking line. turns to Whumpee, grinning. So what are you afraid of, Whumpee?

W: I, um. Does he really have to be here when I answer these questions?

R: Tell them, Whumpee.

W: Can I whisper it to you? (he’s already done so much to me, so fucking much… it’s dumb but I don’t want him to shave my head.)

R: smirks. You know I heard that.

13: What lessons have you taken away from your experience?

R: Everything has been the same old, same old for me. Guess this Whumpee’s lasted longer than the rest of ‘em. He’s coming up on a year soon. Kind of impressive he’s stuck around this long and hasn’t given me a reason to kill him yet.

W: I don’t know. I do what I’m told so I can eat. I take it day by day. I guess the lesson I’ve learned is that abandoning pride is the only way to survive…

14: Whip or cane?

R: Whip.

W: Yeah. Whip.

R: Didn’t expect you to say that. Noted.

15: Drugged or coherent?

R: Depends on the situation. Drugging them is useful for transport but I don’t much like it when they’re too dazed to understand what’s happening. Sometimes they fall asleep, too.

W: Drug me any fucking day. I don’t care. I’ll take whatever you have.

16: What are your true, honest feelings about each other? Is there some part of you that cares for the other at all?

R: Sometimes I like to touch him. He’s warm and it’s funny when he tries to squirm away. Plus I like it when he begs me to stop. But do I care about him? …eh. Sure, sorta. He’s my plaything.

W: Erm. Thanks, I guess. For me… Whumper is the reason I’m here. I guess I’m appreciative for the food… but he does hurt me. A lot. Constantly.

R: You're very welcome.

17: What is your favourite thing about the other? A personality trait, a physical feature, anything

R: He’s got pretty hair. A kind of pretty face, too. Yeah, almost like a girl. Heh. And he makes good sounds when he’s screaming.

W: Ah. Fuck. I really don’t know how to answer this…

R: Come on. What’s your favorite part?

W: Um. Well, I'll say this: Whumper is smart. Scary smart. I don’t think anyone would ever imagine how smart. I don’t know. I don’t. It’s… terrifying.

18: Do you have relationships outside of each other? Friends, family - if yes, do they know about Whumpee? Do they care?

R: Yes, yes, and no.

W: I have a half sister in, uh, Arkansas. We’re not close, obviously… used to have friends I guess, but it’s been a long time since I saw them…

19: What other hobbies do/did you have?

R: Video games. 

W: I used to play saxophone. A lifetime ago.

20: For Whumper, is there any chance you’ll let Whumpee go? For Whumpee, have you ever thought about life after you’re free?

R: No. Sorry. Realistically, it doesn’t make sense to ‘let him go.’

W: I, uh, I used to think about it. I don't anymore… like he said.. realistically it doesn’t make any sense.

R: Mm. Good answer, Whumpee.

------------------------

this interview uses the questions from Character Ask Game post by @inhurtandincomfort !! thanks homie!

((more Whump))

[rkvriki]

things enha does for you !

hey guys!!! after tha one last fic im back to soft content lolz. i got this idea when i was in class so excuse me if its crappy tho! this one is a lil smoll :')

make sure to leave feedback. my requests are open and so is my talk box so let's talk!

WARNINGS ! undertones of being naked and sunoo watching its all sfw so dont worry!! might contain grammar errors!

word count: 1k

LEE HEESEUNG !

— makes you homemade gifts

heeseung is pretty good at everything, so once in his life decides to make good use of it outside of his job.

heeseung loves giving you gifts, most of them expensive pieces of clothing or even random plushies he wins when he goes to the arcade with the other boys, but is there anything more meaningful than a gift he made himself?

he makes so many handmade things but his favorite thing to do is scrap books. he tries to collect his favorite pics with you every month and he puts them in a scrapbook with cute and sweet handwritten messages.

he loves seeing your wide smile as you scan every picture he chose, remembering each day like it was yesterday.

PARK JONGSEONG !

— leaves you notes or flowers 

he does this almost everyday or at least when he stays over at yours and he even has special cute and decorated post its just for you :’)

sometimes he will notice that you might be feeling a little more down or stressed with school/work so he waits for you to fall asleep before he leaves after writing a heartfelt note and sticking it somewhere he knows you’ll see it.

or sometimes jay just feels like treating you nicely so he sends your favorite flowers with a postcard to your house or office.

it all just makes you feel so giddy and soft on the inside, you love how much he shows affection to you in all kinds of ways.

SIM JAKE !

— is present in the most important moments

being from abroad is hard and jake knows that because he also came from a different country, so when knows his s/o isn’t from korea he tries to make up for the fact you don’t have anyone like family members around to supporto you.

when you have important presentations he will be in the audience cheering for you with the biggest smile on his face.

most of the times he does this are surprises, you never know when to expect seeing him there and you would bawl your eyes out if you weren’t in front of so many people.

when you have your first job interview he will take you to where it’s going to take place and he will wait outside and when you come out will tell you that you did good no matter what results are gonna be.

PARK SUNGHOON !

— writes you letters expressing himself

i feel like sunghoon is really shy when it comes to expressing his feelings, although it doesn’t stop him from telling you he loves you every day.

every week he writes you a letter in neat and pretty handwriting, sometimes just telling you how he is feeling lately, other times talking about how much he loves you and how afraid he is of losing you.

he puts every feeling there is in him in the paper, always writing you more than one sheet of paper. After you read all of them you alway call him and you both talk about it, which makes him shy and his ears turn red.

you keep every letter in a box in a place only you and him know and you always read them when you miss him when he’s away.

KIM SUNOO !

— prepares you a spa day/bath

we all know sunoo is all about self care with all the skin care he does and the vitamins he takes and now it’s also a habit of yours thanks to him.

he loves taking care of you when he feels like you aren’t doing it, unable to do it either from stress or just being busy with your life.

when those situations happen, he never fails to surprise you when you come home with a warm bubbly bath in your bathroom, now candle lit.

he asks you to get in the tub as he leaves to get you more things.

he comes back with a huge variety of skin care for you to choose and prepares you your favorite light drink.

when you come out of the shower he will have you laying in the bed and will give the best back massage you’ll ever get, breaking all the knots in you, finishing off with kisses all over your back and face making you giggle.

YANG JUNGWON !

— takes time to celebrate important dates

jungwon loves planning things for you, especially your birthday. even though it makes him wanna rip his hair off he makes all the efforts to make it the best birthday party you could ever have.

literally no one can talk to him during the weeks he is planning it because he is so stressed that he will snap at someone unintentionally (he apologizes later, poor won)

he will plan it almost a month earlier to make sure everything is perfect. he look for the best bakeries around and tries to find the best rooftop to have the party.

he contacts every single one of your friends trying not to forget to invite anyone.

then the worts part comes, the present to give you. jungwon knows so much about you, almost every little detail, but one thing he doesn’t know is what to give you in your birthday, even if you reassure him he is the best present >-<

all the stress his worthy when he sees your teary eyes smile at the big party.

NISHIMURA RIKI !

— spends quality time with you

being an idol takes a lot of someone’s time and niki tries to use every second he had of free time to be with you since he’s always in and out of the country and he knows you hate being alone.

niki takes you everywhere you possibly can go. you go hiking, you go to amusement parks, to the movies, trying out restaurants, just anywhere.

he’s always up to try new things with you and sometimes he might bring the other boys along or you bring your friends, but it’s very rare to happen.

he always takes his digital camera, taking pictures of you when you aren’t looking, which he ends up showing you making you complain of how bad you look and he just glares at you.

sometimes you just go to quiet places and enjoy each other presence, like going to parks in the middle of the nowhere, where it’s just the two of you being two fools in love.

© rkvriki 2023, do not copy or translate my works, please.

[wosowrites]

Moose (Jessie Fleming x Reader)

warnings: none

prompt: in which the reader and jessie play for chelsea and before they leave for the world cup reader makes jessie a crochet moose which becomes the team mascot for canada.

a/n: based off this request here also a super short fic because i’m still broken.

You were not at all a crafty person. Jessie had grown up with a craft room in her house and she liked to paint, draw, and do artsy things to calm herself down like her mother had taught her. When you started dating a year into her contract at Chelsea, her calmness had rubbed off on you. You had always been a stressed out person and moving in with Jessie had made you into a much more relaxed and happy human. You would go on bike rides, hikes, make crafts, paint the house every time you got bored of it and do everything together.

However the only thing you started doing on your own was crocheting. Jessie had tried it but was never big on it, so all the spare yarn in the house went to you. You loved it. You were horrific at it however. Everything turned into little colourful blobs and your creations were constantly either too loose or too messy. That’s why, when you walked into the house one day and pulled out a beautifully crocheted moose with a Canada jersey on, Jessie was baffled.

For the past three weeks, you would escape to a café every day and crochet for about an hour before going back to your girlfriend. Jessie was not a worried person and as madly in love as you both were with each other, spending a small amount of time away from each other every day just made you closer. Some days you would tell her you were grocery shopping, other days it was a meeting with your agent, a hang out with one of your German teammates.

But today, Moose was finally done.

You finished him a week and a half before the departure of the World Cup and you were in Canada with Jessie and her family. It would make it harder to travel all the way back to Germany and then to Australia but you didn’t care. All you wanted was to be girlfriends instead of rivals for as long as possible.

At the dinner table that night, you picked up your glass and straightened up.

"Um, I’m not big on words as you guys have seen by now but I wanna say a couple words," you said.

Jessie’s entire family put down their cutlery and looked up at you. "I’m terrified for this World Cup. Like… horrified. It’s been four years since I’ve played a major tournament so far from you, Jess. The olympics are in one city so we can visit but in Australia… we’re constantly going to be flying around. So… I made Moose," you said.

From under the table, you grabbed a bag and pulled out the knit animal. He had a red and white swear and big old antlers. Jessie’s mouth fell open and a large smile cracked her freckled face. "I’ve been making him for weeks, and he has like… five half knit siblings that went wrong if you want them," Jessie laughed loudly and extended her hand to take the crocheted animal. "Baby… it’s perfect oh my god," she said, smiling down at the animal. "Klara taught me how to make him. That’s why I was always out for an hour or so these past weeks," You said.

Jessie hugged the plushy to her chest and then put it beside her plate. The brunette stood up and walked to behind your chair, wrapping her arms around your neck and squeezing you.

Elysse took a quick picture as Jessie’s parents raved over your new talent.

Over the next couple weeks, Jessie was seen carrying Moose during press, in the bus, around the city, at training, everywhere. She always had Moose. And if she didn’t, she had entrusted Christine Sabrina, or anyone else on the clamer side to take care of the little mascot.

After Canadas 2-1 win over Ireland, Jessie was interviewed and eventually, the subject of Moose came up.

"Is that a moose?" the woman asked, looking down at the plushie tucked under Jessie’s arm. The camera followed the reporters eyes and then went back up to the Canadian. "Yeah it is," she laughed shyly, holding up the mascot. "Is there a story benne that? I mean it’s been showing up everywhere. "There is, yeah. My… uh my girlfriend made it for me. She’s at the world cup and her friend taught her how to make it for me. We won’t be seeing each other for a while depending on how the games go so she said she wanted me to have a piece of her. It’s cute, and I didn’t think she was this artsy so it caught me by surprise for sure," Jessie said, shyly and gently.

The reporter awed over Jessie’s story but the midfielders brain was just full of images of you. She missed you so much.

That night, she called you and the whole Canadian team joined the call behind the vice- captain, thanking you for the mascot.

[thisismeracing]

Part of your world | LH44

SOCIAL MEDIA AU

Pairing: lewis hamilton x actress!reader (she/her)

Warnings: curse words, Twitter environment, it’s not proofread, etc, etc. Minors DNI!

Summary: What happens when Lewis goes to the theater with his nephews and realizes he now has a new favorite Disney movie. The princess? Ynl Yln and she’s definitely fairytale-worthy outside the screens as well.

a/n: none of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps. everything else is made up by me and I do not give permission for it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛

my masterlist | taglist

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, disney, and others

yourusername I can't believe this press tour coming to an end :( A huge thank you to everyone involved. It was great working with you guys, from filming to singing and interviewing.

view all 1,563 comments

royaltyyln omg, I still don't know which dress was my favorite, but this white one is def between the top 3

lewishamilton woah! 😍

⤷ hammertime8 shooting his shot

disney 😍🧜🏾‍♀️💙

user01 I just watched the movie and Istg I cried the whole time, my whole childhood on screen. Yn did a great job

mermaidyn I have an eight years old sister and she's so excited to watch the movie, we cried during the trailer. I can't stress how much it means to us to have a black princess on screen, I am glad my sister is growing up with these examples, and I'm happy I'm still around to watch all these events unfold. Really proud 🤧❤️

user90 Everything on this live-action was on point! From the soundtrack to the cast, absolutely perfect

sainzspain I am so ready to see Yn and Lewis interacting 😌🤌🏾

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, lewishamilton, and others

yourusername camera roll reveal 🫶🏾

view all 1,982 comments

summertimeyn soft launching, I see

⤷ ynbrasil she thinks she's lick, everyone knows its lewis lol

russelular bro, every time she posts I am reminded of the fact that she is stunning, what should one do to look this pretty?

⤷ user3 for me, only being born again lmao 😭🤣

driverslicensef1 lewis lurking on the likes

fortyfourfone Pierre Gasly liked it 🧐

roscoesfans THAT'S ROSCOE AND THAT'S LEWIS, NO DENYING

mickshoes @.disney please, a movie where Yn is the princess and Lewis Hamilton the prince, y'all owning us a live-action from the princess and the frog btw, just saying 👀

flawlessyn Yn is my religion 😭💖💖

lewishamilton

liked by alex_albon, yourusername, and others

lewishamilton we’re all about winning…and making lovely memories along the way 💚

view all 2,374 comments

yourusername cute

⤷ lewishamilton 😌😝❤️

eliteleclerc I am so happy for them

rainytracks can you imagine being born as yn yln and dating lewis hamilton???????

ynwinter God, I've seen what you've done for others 🙏🏾

estebanocon Congrats, guys!

⤷ yourusername thank you, estie bestie! 🥰

lewyn They look so happy, when will it be my turn?

hitsdifferent not yn all cautious not to spill it was lewis, and lewis saying "fuck soft launch, here's my princess" lol

arielyln wish I could beeee part of this worldddd 😭

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie

💖 Don't forget to like, reblog and/or leave a comment letting me know if you liked it *mwah* your interaction means a lot not only because it motivates me, but because it spreads my work and gives me more visibility (especially when you reblog 🥰🤍)