#you sir/ma’am made my day

[heather1815]

There are so many possibilities!!! And don’t worry I put the gorilla back in the zoo. So it’s safe now. :)so you can totally tell me now!

YOU LIE! The gorilla is clearly still around and they watches us all

[consultingskeletondetective]

Colonel's Girl

You’re the young army nurse on base and König decides to keep a protective eye on you. You don’t mind at all, the Colonel is sweet and safe - until he isn’t.

masterlist 🩷 ao3

tags: military inaccuracies, blood and injury, angst, smut, oral sex, vaginal sex

This was your first time on a real military base. You’d done field medic training of course, but this was the first time in your career as an army nurse that you’d been shipped out to base, far from home, calling a tiny bunk room your own in a building full of rowdy young recruits. 

Their daily training brought them to you constantly with scrapes and bruises and concussions. They were feisty, adrenaline-fuelled young men, and you were one of the few women on base. The catcalling and the leering didn’t surprise you, even if it was unwelcome. 

“What time do you get off, darlin’?” Private Turner drawled in a cockney accent as you applied butterfly stitches to a bleeding split across his eyebrow. “Maybe I can come to your room and we can keep each other company-”

“Turner!” It was barked, a stern command from an accented voice. The private paled as Colonel König stomped into your clinic, and you blushed. König was a very imposing man. He was at least 6”9 by your reckoning, and just as broad, in his late 30s or early 40s with a thick Austrian accent. His years of military training had given him a thick, muscular frame, with his broad thighs barely contained in cargo trousers and steel-capped boots on his feet, a black tee stretched over his chest and biceps the size of your torso. You knew what he looked like under that hood, square jawed and piercing blue eyes, but today he’d kept it on, his eyes framed and dark. It was no surprise you blushed whenever you saw him.

“Colonel?” He stood and turned. His voice held none of its previous bravado. Next to König, he looked like a mere boy.

“Two weeks of toilet cleaning duty.” König said gruffly, “and if I catch you using that kind of language again, it will be a month. Understood?”

Turner slumped. “Yes, sir.”

“Get out of my sight.”

Turner, chastised, scampered out of your clinic without looking at you.

König turned his hulking form towards you and actually had to look down to greet you. 

“Pardon, ma’am. He won’t step out of line again.”

Ma’am . Your blush deepened. You gave him a small, nervous smile. 

“Thank you, Colonel, that’s very kind of you.”

“These boys don’t know yet how to respect a lady, but they will.”

“Once you’re done with them?” You smiled playfully.

“If I have done my job correctly.” He said kindly, before turning on his heel and leaving swiftly. You giggled. 

You didn’t see much of König at the start of training, his rank and his experience meant that he didn’t end up in your clinic as much as his recruits did, but when you did pass each other in the hall or by exchanging paperwork, he was nothing less than a courteous and charming gentleman. It seemed bizarre, considering you’d heard tell that he was a brawling killing machine out on the field, but he could switch from barking stiff orders to giving you a gentle smile that made you blush in the blink of an eye. You had to routinely remind yourself that this didn’t make you special, he was just being respectful, and you weren’t used to that. It didn’t matter that he was a soldier, or nearly twice your age, it didn’t take you long to develop a crush on the handsome and mysterious Austrian. 

A few days later and you were stood in line to the mess hall. It was breakfast, and you’d seen the black pudding in the warming trays as soon as you’d stepped in. You were practically salivating as you waited, it wasn’t often you got a creature comfort like this - something that reminded you of home - on base.

“Not often we get this kind of luxury, eh, miss?” You recognised the coarse accent before you turned. Lieutenant Riley had joined you in the line, a balaclava covering his face. You knew him a little, the infamous Ghost. You’d crossed paths with the 141 on occasion, and you knew Riley, sometimes even Captain Price, dropped into the base to provide training or engage your services. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for him to make polite conversation with you. In fact, it seemed the norm here. The high rankers felt a bit sorry for you, while the recruits made you feel like a piece of meat or an object of ridicule. 

You didn’t mind much, you were here to do a job, and you kept to yourself mostly anyway, but the offer of friendship was much appreciated. 

You smiled a little shyly in return. “I know, right? I hope the black pudding doesn’t go too quickly. I’ve been thinking about it all morning.”

“A girl after my own heart.” The lieutenant chuckled. In front of you, two privates who had been turning around to eavesdrop on the conversation - more to get a look at Ghost, than you, you understood - burst into laughing at your admission. Your ears turned red and you wished you’d never opened your mouth.

Riley didn’t seem to notice, he was holding his gloved hand out to König, who had somehow appeared next to him in the line since you’d looked away. You actually had to do a double take. For a near seven foot slab of muscle, he was stealthy when he wanted to be. 

The two of them talked among themselves in low voices and you left them to it, knowing you didn’t particularly want to hear the contents of whatever they needed to discuss.

You reached the front of the line and the private in front of you - the one who had laughed - piled his tray high with black pudding until the warming tray was empty. He turned and smirked mockingly at you.

“You can have my sausage, darlin’, if you ask nicely.” At least three recruits laughed. You wanted to shrink down so small you stopped existing altogether.

König’s brick hand clamped around the private’s tray and wrenched it easily from his grip.

“Sir-my breakfast…”

“Get out of the line, or I will feed you my fist.” König didn’t even raise his voice, the cold delivery had the private skulking off empty handed. König placed the tray back onto the counter and then he turned to you. 

“Help yourself, ma’am.” 

“Oh.” Your cheeks were crimson. He cocked his head, his eyes, the only part of his face visible through his black hood, looked amused. It wasn’t unkind. “T-thank you.” 

König tipped his hood towards you before turning his attention back to Riley, and the pair of them moved off to a separate table. You sat by yourself, chewing your black pudding, and smiling like an idiot. 

You glanced over to König a few times more than you would like to admit. He put you at ease, that’s what it came down to, it gave you a confidence you didn’t usually have around military men. 

It was that very ease that left you wholly unprepared for the following week.

It was ballistics training out on the grounds, and you caught wind of an accident halfway through your sandwich.

“Come quick!’ An officer skidded into your office, “there’s been an accident - potential fatality.”

You cursed, and gathered your supplies, before following him out of your clinic and out onto the training ground. Recruits stood nervously holding rifles, their half-shot targets abandoned. A young recruit was wailing on the ground, another kneeling beside him and pressing against his belly with a jacket, there was blood on the sand. 

König was towering over a young private - the same young man who had laughed at you in the mess hall, you briefly noted - and barking bloody murder in his terrified face. It took you more than a moment to realise that König wasn’t actually speaking German, you could just barely make a word out in his fury. 

It was easy to tune out, you’d been out in the field before, and turn your attention to your patient. You knelt beside the terrified looking private stemming the bleeding, and carefully lifted his jacket to look at his wound while the young man screamed.

“You’re going to be okay.” You said confidently, calmly. “It’s nothing we can’t stitch up. Private, keep putting pressure on the wound, just like this, you’re doing a good job.” Just this once, you were obeyed without question. 

“I will have you court-martialed, dummkopf, you could have killed him. You come onto my base, you do not listen to a word I say, and now you attack my men? You sorry piece of -”

“König,” you cut through the accented remonstration, pulling bandages from your bag, “I need your men to carry him to my clinic immediately, then you have to-”

König turned swiftly to you, those bright blue eyes visibly narrowed in the slits of his hood. “Do not fucking give me orders, nurse.” He seethed, voice ice cold with rage, fists clenched and towering over you. “You address me as Colonel, you little girl.” The white hot fury in his eyes matched the venom in his voice. You baulked, in fear, in surprise, horrified to realise tears were gathering in your eyes. You looked back down on the man in your arms and forced yourself to regain your composure.

“I need to get him to my clinic, I can’t lift him myself.” Your voice was steady, if muted, throwing your gaze over your shoulder at König and the recruits staring at you. “Please, colonel .”

König turned from you and began barking your orders at his men and within moments, your patient was being carried between three recruits back to your clinic. You turned and rushed after them. You extracted the bullet from his ribs and sewed up the damage as numbly as you treated any one of your patients. You left your makeshift surgery room with bloody hands and sweat on your forehead, surprised to find König leaning against the wall in your waiting room. He’d stripped out of his uniform to a simple pair of combat trousers and a black shirt that looked like it was losing a fight with his bicep muscles. His hood was held lax in his hand, giving you a rare glimpse at his face. It was no surprise to you that he looked exhausted. He pushed himself from the wall when you entered. Like a gentleman , you thought bitterly.

“Will he live?” He asked you, his voice soft. It was just like every other interaction you’d had on base. 

“It was a flesh wound. He’ll be fine, Colonel.” Your words were stiff, and you walked straight past him without even a glance, feeling like a complete idiot that you’d ever thought he might treat you with the slightest bit of respect. You were angry until the adrenaline wore off, then you cried in your bed.

The recruit, Jenkins, pulled through the night, and the next day he was airlifted to the nearest hospital. The accidental shooter was gone, and you didn’t care to ask what had happened. Training was halted for a few days as a result and you had a quiet week, but you weren’t complaining, as you now had a mountainous amount of paperwork to complete. You were grateful when you were able to file the heft of paper into your pigeon hole to be sent off, and rewarded yourself with a sit down in the breakroom to the main office.

You looked up on instinct more than anything when the door opened. König walked in, in combat boots and a military vest, his hood over his eyes and helmet strapped to his head, like he’d just come straight from deployment. He glanced at you with tired blue eyes, but all you could see was the fury in them when he’d scared you the week before. You felt stupid for thinking someone like König would ever be nice to you. You were just the idiot girl on base.

“Morning, ma’am.” He said pleasantly when he saw you, slipping one hand into his trouser pocket as he poured himself coffee from the pot on the table.

“Hey.” You replied, voice flat, suddenly finding your nails remarkably interesting.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” Another one word answer. You still weren’t looking at him. 

König shifted uneasily. The atmosphere in the room changed. Of course it did, he was used to you being a blushy, smiling, pathetic mess for him. 

Concerned, König crossed the small space to you. He didn’t sit. From what you could see from your lowered head, his hand was no longer in his pocket.

“If this is about what happened…you did well, Jenkins will recover.”

“I know I did fine.” You genuinely didn’t mean to snap. “I don’t need you to tell me that.”

The conversation went dead, the atmosphere was palpable. You didn’t know whether it was his culture, or his military status, but König went right to the point.

“Have I offended you?”

Was he being willfully obstinate? You felt your humiliated aggravation grow. Well, you were in it now.

“Just leave me alone.”

There was a pause. And then another. Neither of you moved.

“As you wish.”

He left swiftly after that, and you finally looked up at the empty room. You felt relieved, but also hollow. It was almost like you’d done something wrong. But you hadn’t, had you? König’s coffee was abandoned on the table.

König left you alone, and that pissed you off even more. He walked past you in the mess hall, he didn’t glance down to smile at you anymore, he didn’t come into the clinic, even though you secretly hoped he would. Your self-esteem was pretty much on the floor after that, and the base got just that little bit lonelier.

Two recruits barrelled into your office a few days later, one had a busted lip and they both had black eyes. They'd clearly been in a fight, but whether that was with each other, or someone else, you didn’t care to ask. You stayed quiet as you applied butterfly stitches to their cuts, and they were happy enough to complain between themselves.

“You’re a dickhead, Williams, the Colonel’s gonna fucking kill us.” 

“Relax, he’s not going to know.”

“He’s been such a dick lately. He put Taylor on shit detail for a fortnight for having his shoelace untied.”

“Probably because he has to look at your fucking ugly mug every day.”

“You’re done.” You cut across. “You can go.”

They thanked you and left, and you were grateful to get the foul mouthed privates out of your office. 

It was getting dark outside and you were tired. You left your clinic and crossed the training ground to the mess hall. There were still soldiers out here, practising hand to hand combat under the floodlights. You gave them a wide berth.  

You didn’t see the abandoned dummy grenade wedged in the sand until your foot hooked around it and you vaulted over with an unladylike grunt. 

A large hand curled around your wrist and stilled you before you ate dirt. You cursed under your breath and turned inward. König was towering above you, your wrist positively dwarfed by his gloved hand. His hood obscured his face, shrouding him in the darkness behind him, all except those bright eyes looking down on you.

“You should be more careful.” He grunted, releasing your wrist.

Your eyes hit the ground and you mumbled a hasty ‘sorry’ before you scampered away to the mess hall. König watched your retreating back as you left.

The next few days passed uneventfully. You worked, you ate, you slept, you called home. The clinic was surprisingly empty. You wondered if the recruits were finally becoming competent enough that they didn’t need you every five seconds. You signed off your discharge sheets for the day and headed to the main office to dump them in the output box. You were surprised to find König in there, sans hood, rifling through a box of papers on the desk. He glanced up when he saw you and his expression wilted. He looked back into the box. 

“I’ll be out of your hair in a second.” He said. “I just need to find the instruction manual for the - s cheiße .” The papers in his hand fluttered to the ground. He bent down to retrieve them and winced, arm circling his broad torso. 

You frowned and took a step closer to him.

“What’s wrong?” You asked. 

“Nothing.” He replied instantly as he straightened. His movements were slower than usual. 

“It doesn’t look like nothing, König, it looks like cracked ribs.”

“It’s fine, really.”

You put your discharge forms on the desk and walked up to him. “Lift your shirt.”

König sighed but complied after a moment. He lifted his dark tee to his pectorals. His deep abdominal muscles rose and fell under his breathing and you found your cheeks reddening under the sight. A makeshift bandage was wrapped around his torso, and you reached out and lifted it. His skin was like lava against your fingers. He didn’t say a word as you lifted the bandage but he may have winced when your eyes widened. The right hand side of his ribcage was purple with deep bruising and lacerated with deep and shallow cuts alike, some were healing, and some were leaving blood stains on the inside of the bandage. 

“Oh my god, what happened?”

“Nothing.” König grunted. “Machine gun training. One of the recruits lost control of the barrel and clocked me in the ribs. It is just a scratch.”

“This cut needs stitches.” You said automatically, tracing the underside of the welt with your fingertip. König jolted and you took your hand away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“You didn’t.” He replied.

“I have cream that’ll reduce this bruising too-” König huffed and you looked up at him. You couldn’t quite decipher the expression on his face. He might as well have been wearing his hood.

“It is fine.” He said. “The bruising has disappeared a lot in the last few days…”

“ Days ?” You blinked. “Days, König? You can’t have been walking around like this for days. Why didn’t you come to me?”

There was a pause. He was trying to avoid your gaze.

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“König,” it was reprimanding, reproachful, your eyes slackened. “You always need to come to me when you’re hurt, even when I’m mad. I’m sorry.”

König’s eyes snapping to you made you regret the words as soon as they were out of your mouth. Your gaze dropped to the grazes on his ribs but your cheeks were already on fire. 

“Are you ever going to tell me why you are mad at me?”

You didn’t meet his gaze. It seemed pathetic now. “You yelled at me.”

König didn’t respond straight away. When he did - “I yelled at you?”

You fought off the sudden urge to say sorry.

“When Jenkins was shot.” You explained. “I’m not one of your soldiers. I don’t like being screamed at, especially when I’m doing my job.” Your voice dropped a little. “And I’m not a little girl, I’m a nurse. You should respect that, just like the way you tell your troops to.”

You glanced up at König, he looked crestfallen. “I…” He frowned a little, as if giving up on any explanation he planned to give. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head, embarrassed, and lowered his shirt.

“It’s not important now-”

“It is important. I don’t think you are a little girl. Sometimes in battle, things like this become heated. I do not even remember saying this to you, but I am sorry. I do not think that, I truly do not, I was…one of my men was dying, I was not myself. Please forgive me.”

Your eyes met. It felt like the first time you’d looked at each other in a long time. König’s blue eyes were soft and sad.

“Um, come to the clinic, this afternoon,” you rose, flustered, “I, uh, that cut needs looking at.”

You turned swiftly and left but not before you heard König utter a single ‘yes ma’am’ before you did. 

You thought about what he said as you sterilised your clinic for his arrival. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment, but you managed to keep your cool? Why didn’t he? Because he’s a soldier, you reminded yourself. He kills easily and without thought, he’s not the sweet gentleman you want him to be. You shook your head to yourself, that wasn’t the issue and you knew it. You didn’t care that he was a killer, or that sometimes he scared you. You knew what his easy dismissal of you meant - and it hurt.

König reported promptly to your clinic at 1pm that afternoon. He stripped out of his shirt and sat patiently down on the end of your bed and you had to pretend like having a 7ft goliath of a man stripped down in front of you wasn’t making your heart race. He truly was extraordinary. 

You stitched the large cut on his ribs that was worrying you the most and he didn’t make a sound. it didn’t much surprise you, you assumed he was accustomed to pain. It made your stomach flutter with something . 

He was even more impressive undressed, his body heavy with swollen, toned muscle, faded scars criss-crossing over his flesh. You had to remind yourself that you were a trained nurse just to stop yourself from drooling. 

König watched you work rather intently. “You have very small hands.” He remarked suddenly. You didn’t respond, unsure if it was a compliment or not. You both lapsed into silence for another long while. It was like a form of torture. You’d never been more embarrassed in your life. You felt like a foolish little girl, trying to play with a grizzly bear. It must have shown on your face. 

You didn’t expect König to talk again. He must have thought that you were insane - pathetic, at the very least. 

“May I ask you a question?”

Oh. “Of course.”

“Why did you join the military if you hate being yelled at?”

You sighed and finished off your final stitch. “You don’t have to mock me, you know, I already got the message.”

“I am not mocking you. I’m curious.”

Forthright . You forgot.

You took a moment to respond, busying yourself with packing away your equipment. “I didn’t join as a recruit, I joined as a nurse.” You didn’t tell him the real reason, that it was because it was him.

“Right.” 

“It’s not your problem.” 

König stood, and pulled his shirt back on. “It won't happen again.” He said. “You have my word.” 

Your gaze flicked to his handsome face involuntarily. “Um, here’s the cream. Make sure to apply it twice a day, and try to take it easy for a few days.”

König grunted, a ghost of a smile on his face. You could tell he hadn’t taken it easy a day in his life. 

“What message?” König asked suddenly. 

“Sorry?” You froze, trying to backtrack to that particular exchange.

“You said you ‘got the message’.” He repeated. “What message?”

Oh. 

“Um, did I say that?” Your voice was uncharacteristically high. König tilted his head.

“Schatz, my English isn’t that bad. We both heard what you said.”

You blushed and your head dipped. You didn’t know much German, but you knew what ‘schatz’ meant. 

“Well, you know-” fuck, shit, fuck . “P-put in your place by the guy you have a crush on. I get it. I got it. I won’t go there again.”

“Crush?” König responded like a lightning strike, before he fell silent. His brain was calculating, before his expression turned to…well, there was no other way to put it, absolutely fucking floored. “You like me?”

Oh, this was very fucking bad.

“Well…yeah? I thought it was obvious-”

“Obvious? Schatz, I thought you hated me.”

You blinked. 

“Wha- why would you think that?”

“You told me to leave you alone.”

“You called me a little girl! In front of everyone.”

When exactly had you both gotten so close to each other? It was close enough that König could look down on you, and your heart was skipping a beat.

“You can’t like me.” He said quietly.

You frowned. “Why not? Have you looked at yourself? Plus you’re…you know, nice, and the only person in this dump that doesn’t leer at me or treat me like a stupid little girl. When people aren’t dying, I mean.”

“I…” Was König hesitating? The man who had nothing to fear?

“It’s okay,” you murmured, embarrassed. “Like I said, I get the message. Why would you want a pathetic sap like me who can’t even hear a raised voice without crying?”

“Do not say that.” König looked uncertain, his eyebrows knitting together. “You are like a...a flower. Not meant for men like me.”

“A…” Your brain couldn’t quite compute what you’d just heard. “Men like you? What does that even mean?”

“You need someone younger, for a start.” He sighed. “Someone who has seen less death, verdammt, someone who has caused less death.”

“Men like your idiot recruits, then?”

König didn’t respond. 

“I have to go.” He said instead. “Thank you for the…cream.”

“Anytime, Colonel.” It was softly spoken, you watched him freeze, then you watched him go. You smuggled a bottle of wine back to your room and drank until you fell asleep. This really was a new low.

…

The days passed slowly and without incident. On the face of it, there was no difference in you, except for a notably lacklustre delivery of your care. 

You were making notes at your desk when Private Jackson and his buddy, Williams, appeared at your desk, complaining of a groin injury. 

You rolled your eyes and returned to your paperwork. “I’m sure it’ll feel better tomorrow, private.”

“I’m sure it’ll feel better right now if you kiss it-”

“Shut up,” Williams chuckled, shoving him, “you wanna get a disciplinary? You know she’s the colonel’s girl.”

Your gaze snapped up. “What did you just say?”

Neither of them answered you, they just sniggered and slunk off. You watched the empty doorway with wide eyes. You tried not to ponder on it. You pondered on it for the rest of the day.

…

You signed the bottom of Williams’ sick leave and ticked off the various appropriate boxes, flipping the page and hoping that was all that was required until you froze. It needed the signature of the patient's C.O. König. Shit. 

You hadn’t even seen König since he’d rejected you and every time you thought about that particular exchange, your ears went hot and you wanted the ground to swallow you whole.

You were too much of a pussy to talk to him, so instead you went to his office when you knew he was scheduled to be out at training, and scribbled ‘ sign me please :) ’ on a post it note, stuck it on the front page and left the form on his desk. 

You turned for the door with a relieved sigh and accidently walked into König’s solid chest. He was standing in the open doorway, he was the size of the open doorway, wearing his combat gear although he was unarmed, his hood draped covering his face, even so, you could see he was looking down on you. It wasn’t until you glanced up that you realised he was ducking to fit in the doorway. That sent heat right to your cunt.

“Oh, hello.” You said stupidly, eyes hitting the carpeted floor.

“Hello.” He greeted you, accent gentle. “Can I help you?”

“Oh, right, I’m in your office.” You stumbled over your words. “Um, W-Williams needs sick leave approved, he needs gallbladder surgery off base, I need you to sign the form. I - I left it on your desk.”

König walked past you, he smelt of sweat and sand and some sort of hastily applied deodorant. He seemed unfazed that you were in his office, he certainly didn’t seem to be trying to avoid you as ardently as you were avoiding him. You cursed yourself for being so childish.

He removed his hood and draped it over the back of his chair as he picked up the form. His eyes were darkened with war paint, fresh stubble on his jaw. 

“A smiling face.” He remarked as he read your post it note, voice muted. “The way yours used to be.”

You blinked. “Is that meant to be some kind of joke?” You asked hotly.

“Not at all.” He replied, not looking up from the form. “It used to brighten my days.” He signed the form and held it out to you before you could really process what he’d said. “Let us hope Williams makes a swift recovery, he is one of my best.”

You tentatively took the form, mind drawn back to the last encounter you’d had with the young private. 

“He called me…” You bit back your sentence before you had a chance to finish it. But the damage was done.

König’s back straightened, his fists clenched. “Something inappropriate?”

“No.” Your shoulders hunched. Why did you even bring it up? “He said I was…they’re calling me…you know…the colonel’s girl.”

You glanced up at König shyly, to see if there was any truth in it. His back had relaxed, but his stance was still guarded. 

“What?” You asked.

“I told the recruits to leave you alone.” He admitted. “Or there would be consequences.” 

“Oh.” You blushed. “But, that’s not a bad thing, is it?”

“No, it’s not…some of the men have interpreted the order to mean I am keeping you for myself.”

You took a bold step forward.

“And are you?”

König looked at the floor. You sighed and turned for the door.

König’s large hand curled around the front of your throat before you could turn and drew you back, right to his mouth. You whimpered into the kiss. You were forced onto your tiptoes to meet him, feeling his fingers against your oesophagus with every exhale. His lips eased wetly and insistently against yours until you were dizzy, gripping his arms and pressing yourself closer. 

As soon as it started, it was over. König released your throat and took a step back. You had to blink a few times to regain just a few of your senses. You were still on your tiptoes, and you could still taste him on your mouth. Gunpower, and mint.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was ragged, his accent even thicker than usual. Fuck, it was hot.

He turned and left before you could even articulate a response, but you were sure you saw his back muscles twitching as he went.

…

The deployment for the first active mission came about quicker than anyone had been expecting. It was practically a dummy mission, you’d been told, leading a team of recruits on a sweep near cartel lands for stray activity or potential landmines. Still, the atmosphere was palpable in the base, the recruits were scared, you could tell.

You watched from the doorway of your clinic as the men stood by the jeeps, ready to roll out. Riley had returned, and he stood next to König as the latter zipped up his kevlar and clipped on his helmet over his hood. You wanted to wish him luck, even though you knew everything was going to be fine. It was a routine sweep, and he was König, he wasn’t in any danger. Still, your stomach pulled. Fate was cruel. What if this was the last time you ever saw him?

You scrunched your eyes shut, called yourself an idiot, and jogged across the sand of the training field.

Riley saw you first, he knocked König on the chest to alert him - you tried not to read into that - König turned, face obscured, body heavy with kevlar and weaponry. He had to lower his head to look at you.

“Schatz?” 

Your insides ached at the familiar term of endearment that you didn’t deserve. Your mouth was as dry as the sand you were stood on, and you suddenly didn’t know what to say. Don’t go? Come back? How could you say any of those things to the man who didn’t want you.

König solved your problem for you. His fingers closed around your tricep, and his thumb stroked just once.

“Look after yourself.” You said quietly.

He nodded before he dropped your arm. Then you watched as they got into the jeeps and drove away.

…

The recruits were returned to you on a daily basis. Apparently, the drop point of the sweep was particularly hot for cartel soldiers, ready and willing to engage in battle. The wounds you were treating now were not the cuts and scrapes of training, it was cracked skulls and broken bones and lacerated flesh. And the men, Turner, Williams, Jackson, they weren’t the scrappy, joking lads they’d once been, they were crying and they were scared. 

You slept when you could but you were always exhausted. You were waiting for the first time one of them died on you. 

You were awoken that night by a loud, insistent banging on your door. You jumped out of bed and tied your robe around yourself, already gathering your hair up to tie it back.

“What’s happened?” You called, opening the door, “who is it…oh.”

It took a moment for you to realise that you weren’t staring at the pitch black of night, but rather directly at König’s chest. He stood in a dark shirt, helmet removed, hood covering his face, head disappearing behind your doorway, but his blue eyes were bright and wild and looking down at you.

“König! You scared me half to death. Get in here.”

You stood aside and König ducked his head and walked, actually stomped, his way into your room. You prayed you didn’t have any stray underwear on the floor. His shirt sleeves were short and you could actually see his arm muscles thrumming. 

“What’s happened?” You frowned. “What’s wrong, König? Talk to me, please.”

“There was an I.E.D.” He replied, accent thick. You couldn’t imagine what his expression looked like. “Ghost saw it before I did. He pulled me out of the pathway. The fucking thing exploded five feet in front of my face. I could have died. I am a fucking idiot.”

“Oh, König, you…you didn’t die, and you’re not an idiot, okay? Every soldier misses…”

“No, schatz.” He walked forward, backing you against the wall. You swallowed when his large hand came up, pressing your collarbone back against the wall. “I’m a fucking idiot because I could have died without doing this.”

One hand curled around your hip and lifted you effortlessly, and you gasped as you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist - it was a stretch, he was so broad. König wasted no time slamming you into the wall next to your bed with enough force to rattle your bones. You squeaked, but that was all you managed to do. He pushed his hood up to his nose and captured your lips with his.

Your eyes crossed and closed as you groaned, wrapping your arms around his neck as your lips slid against his. This was nothing like the first kiss - that was chaste, hurried, this was luxurious, long, wet and slow, the whole world went quiet as König pressed his tongue between your lips and lapped at yours with sure strokes that had you whimpering. Your fingers tangled in his hood as he kissed you like that, and you forgot everything else. 

He hitched your legs around his waist and you whined, muffled, as you felt a solid lump pressing up against your clothed crotch. You didn’t care – you ground down on him as you met his tongue with yours. He growled into your mouth and it reverberated through you, before he was pulling back, kissing along your jaw and grinding his cock against your heat harder than before. 

Then his eyes were on you, piercing and bright through the dark hood, the fabric sat askew on his top lip, his lips pink and swollen with your spit.

“I want you, schatz.” He said bluntly. 

“I - I want you, too.”

Your consent was all he needed. Suddenly you were airborne again, and you clung onto him as he lowered you onto the belt and knelt between your legs. The bed actually dipped under his weight and you blushed.

“K-König,” you murmured quietly.

“No,” it was short, and stiff, as he yanked your night shirt down by your collar hard enough to rip. You yelped as the sound of fabric tearing filled the room and suddenly your tits were exposed. You whimpered in embarrassment but he’d already grabbed them in his rough, gloved hands, squeezing and rubbing, flicking and pinching your nipples between his fingers.

“Hhhh, fuck.” You blushed, biting your lip as your underwear moistened at the rough treatment.

“Fuck, do not tell me they are sensitive.” König’s voice sounded wrecked.

“Please,” it was a whisper, “please be gentle.”

“Wanted to get my hands on you for too long.” Was all his reply was as he squeezed your breast again and leant down, using his hand to guide your nipple into his exposed mouth. He sucked so hard that you thought he was trying to drink your soul out from you. Your head fell back and you gasped, grinding your wet, needy cunt as best you could on the side of his thigh. König took pity on you, lapping at your nipples until they were shining nubs screaming in oversensitivity, while his brick hand - when had he taken his glove off? - cupped your pussy through your underwear. His thumb was jammed right up against your clit. You didn’t know if he’d meant to do that, or if it was coincidental, but either way you ground up onto the solid digit until your eyes were unfocused.

“So wet for me, liebling,” he murmured breathlessly, between your nipples, “you are fucking soaked for me.” He stroked you with his thumb once and your eyes slackened and you came with a shudder, stiffening beneath him as stars danced above your head.

He let your nipple slide wetly from his mouth and suddenly those bright eyes were on you.

“Did you just have an orgasm?”

“Mmm.” You buried your head into his neck shyly, thighs shuddering as the waves of pleasure rolled through you. Your clit twitched against his hand. 

“Oh, sweet liebling.” He murmured, rubbing wet circles over the sodden fabric of your underwear. You shuddered as your thighs tried to close away from the intense pleasure, until one strong hand was on your thigh and pushing it wide.

“König!” You gasped. He was watching you intently as he pushed your underwear to the side with his fingers and pressed the thick digits through your sopping folds. 

“Such a pretty little cunt.” He murmured, stroking his fingertips over your slit. It opened with every heavy breath you took, dribbles of desire wetting his fingers.

“König, please,” you whined, “need you in me. Please -”

“Oh yes? Is that so?” The side of his mouth twitched up, then his finger was sinking inside you.

“Shit, fuck! K-König, you’re so big…” You felt your cunt stretching around his finger, clenching involuntarily down around it as your thighs tried to close but couldn’t, pinned open by his solid hand.

“I know, schatz.” He replied calmly. “You can take it.” He slid a second finger in without warning and grunted at how tight and wet you were, just imagining how your cunt would feel around his cock. You whined and threw your head back, the stretch aching after months of nothing, thighs shaking. You were so fucking wet that his fingers practically glided in, his knuckles against your soft pink entrance. “I want you to come for me, to loosen you up for my cock.”

“König, fuck, I…” Your cheeks were rosy. “My god, please...please move, I need-”

“Shhh, little one, I know.” He wasted no time shoving his fingers deeper in your aching cunt, and you yelped and lifted off of the bed entirely. König growled in disapproval and used the hand on your thigh to pin you down to the bed, keeping you still as he ploughed his fingers in and out of you. You moaned deliriously at the sudden intense, rough pressure to your sweet spot, watching the way König’s large hand was like a blur between your legs.

“I’m-” You couldn’t even say it before you were coming with a wet moan, your release splashing against his wrist and dripping all over the bed.

“Scheiße, liebling, making such a mess for me.” His fingers were still hard and circling your engorged sweet spot. Your body seized in panic as you gripped his wrist with all your might to try and still him. All you achieved was watching your own arms shake as he fingered you mercilessly. The noise was obscene, soaking wet come and slick filthy between your legs and soaking his hand as you squirted again, streaming down his arm with a mix of clear and white desire. You moaned and gasped and sobbed, the pleasure intense and spiralling, your pussy already felt worn out from the rough treatment.

“König, please,” you begged, “it’s too much-”

“Again.” He commanded, hand leaving your thigh and curling around your throat. “Want all of that squirt out of you.” he pinned you to the bed by your neck, using the change in position to drive his fingers roughly home deep in your aching, spent cunt. He didn’t stop when you came, and he didn’t stop when you came again - your eyes in the back of your head, body on fire with ceaseless pleasure, the bed beneath you soaked with your own humiliation. All you could do was take it, and shudder violently. 

Finally, König pulled his fingers from your gaping hole and slapped your cheek lightly, it was a wet noise and you blinked.

“Come on, little girl, do not give up on me.”

“König,” you slurred, heaving. “I…fuck, so good, never…I can’t…”

“Oh sweet one,” he cooed, crowding between your legs, pulling your thighs over his hips. “Fucked you stupid and I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”

You managed a tired smile as you traced your fingers down the front of his stab vest. You watched him drag the zip of his trousers down, rubbing just the once over the lump there before dipping in and pulling his cock free. It took him three tries - to extract the full, erect length of himself from the tight compression of his protective cup, before he was letting it hang heavy between his legs. 

“Fuck, König- you’re so big.”

“I know, baby,” he stroked the length of his long, engorged cock from length to tip and your eyes widened, cunt throbbing between your legs in your desperation to feel it deep in you. 

“König, please,” you begged, digging your heels into the small of his back, your wet cunt pressed up against his balls, inviting, begging him in, “my pussy - please -”

He chuckled before pressing the head of his foreboding cock against your clit and you trembled and cursed. He lent over you, hand squeezing your breast, the ends of his dark hood tickling your neck as you felt the hot, solid crown of his cock pressing against your entrance. Your eyes were wide, nervous, feeling the pressure, the give, then the hot length sliding home inside of you.

You gasped and arched, clenching around him and his biceps shook where he held you.

“Fuck, schatz, fuck, not so hard, you will make me come.”

“C-can’t help it.” It was a whine, rolling your hips and digging your heels in harder, trying to pull him deeper. “Feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He panted, regaining some of his composure and locking his hand around your neck once more. His hips began to piston and you weren’t prepared for it, the shift of his massive cock in your tight walls making you moan and clench and writhe. Your cunt was obscenely wet, and every noise was a squelch that made you blush, until he was pounding into your sweet spot and you forgot everything.

“Fuck, König, fuck-” it was breathless, eyelids fluttering as you clenched and groaned and sprayed his cock, his balls, with your release. “I can’t - can’t stop, fuck,”

“Guh, fuck.” He grunted, lips ghosting over yours. His cock not slowing, pounding you like he was trying to nail the mattress beneath you. “So tight, liebling, your pussy is drawing me in. I’ve waited so long for this.”

You couldn’t ask him to explain, you were too busy coming, your world zeroed down to the tip of König’s dick abusing your swollen sweet spot. He curled his fingers under your knee and held your thigh up by your collarbone, exposing more of your vulnerable cunt to him as he thrust hard into your aching walls. 

Your moans were broken and never ending, blushing and squirming in delirious agony as you gushed and creamed on his cock, feeling your hot release on the backs of your thighs.

“Look at you,” König didn’t even have the decency to sound exerted as he took you apart. “You can’t stop coming, can you, schatz?”

“No.” There were tears in your eyes, your fingernails digging into his arms, holding on for dear life. “You need, please -” Your mouth fell open as you came again, the splash of your squirt explosive and filthy, “you need to come, please, I can’t, can’t come again, please, König, please.”

König framed your jaw with his hand, stroking along the bone as he slammed his hips into yours, forcing more of your come straight from you with a grunt.

“Nearly there, schatz.” He said into your mouth. “Just a little bit longer.”

“Fuck, please,” your walls clenched and contracted again, vaulted over the edge and nearly losing consciousness, clenching your fucked out cunt tight if only to help him get there. “Please, come, come in me, fuck.”

“Scheiße,” he groaned, cock jamming in your tight cunt as you came so hard you nearly pushed him out. He shoved his way back in and you wailed. “You want me to come inside? I’m not wearing…”

“König, please,” it was pathetic, and he couldn’t deny you, watching your sobbing eyes with his piercing blues as he slammed into your weeping cunt for a few more torturous minutes, then his forehead was pressed to yours and he groaned as he spilled inside you. He was so deep you couldn’t feel it, but you could feel his cock twitching, and you could feel yourself clenching and coming so hard you forced dribbles of his white come straight back out of your slit and dribbling down between your cheeks. 

König was breathing heavily against you as he held himself, forehead against yours, body framing yours, and you watched him as you shuddered and tried in vain to relax. He was…there were no words for it.

You let your hands trail down his clothed back, feeling the solid and bunching muscles there, feeling his cock heavy in your squirting pussy and wondering how the hell this had happened.

“König,” you had a warm, dizzying smile on your face. “You came back.”

He nodded mutedly, face partially obscured by his hood, as he stroked along your jaw, then your lips, and let his hulking body fall and rest beside yours. “Thought you might not want me.”

You shook your head, curling into his chest the best you could. He was still inside you.

“Want you, always. Don’t-'' He'd already curled his bear arms around you, drawing you into his warm chest and cutting you off. You were suddenly so overhot you couldn’t remember what you were going to say.

“I’m sorry I upset you, liebling,” he stroked along your back, his blue eyes slack. “I have always wanted you to be mine. From the moment I saw you.”

This felt like a fever dream. It couldn’t possibly be real. You couldn’t possibly be this happy.

“I’ve always been yours, König, I still am. If you still want me.”

He tilted his head as he watched you, lips pulling up, and you blushed.

“What?” You asked.

“You,” he said simply, voice warm like honey, “are smiling again.”

[slightlymore]

deadly kiss

chief architect jaehyun x chief engineer fem reader

genre: office au, enemies? to lovers, dom x dom and trying to force each other to sub, romance, smut, fluff

warnings: +18, alcohol, language, explicit sexual content, oral fem receiving, fingering, random sir kink because i was horny like that, use of pet name baby for her during sex, gagging on fingers and sucking, light choking, raw, sex in office, creampie. 

words: 12k+

have this little something as I warm up back into writing. it was supposed to be longer and with some angst but it has been in my drafts for monthssss and I was sick of it ehaheah enjoy. if some of these things happened to me irl no they didnt :) 

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Present, Monday 2 after the Kiss

That morning you woke up feeling the best you have felt in a hot minute. The sun was shining, the outfit you prepared looked good, you had no trouble putting on makeup that day and your hair looked great. Nothing could have disrupted such a holy morning.

Well, besides a pile of A3 papers on your desk. 

The sigh that escaped your chest as you stepped into your office sounded so defeated that your colleagues turned around in their wheeled chairs to check if you were okay. 

It’s not like you hated to have piles of paper on your desk. That was your job after all. 

It was the owner of those papers that made you roll your eyes so far back in your head that you saw green stars. 

“Can you kindly check these and confirm they’re okay? JJ :)” 

You stared at that yellow Post-it on top of the pile and the smiley face as if they committed a crime.  

“I don’t think you architects have any conception of math or physics,” you said, placing the papers on Jaehyun's desk maybe a bit too harshly. 

The man looked down at them with open palms then he prepared his cocky smile before lifting his eyes to look at you. 

He took his time with that: starting from the waist, going up slowly, shamelessly going over your breasts and finally face. 

"Hi," he tilted his head to one side and rested two fingers on his cheek. 

You rolled your eyes. 

"That project is halfway fucked," you explained, indicating the papers with your chin. 

Jaehyun's expression changed to a fake frown, going as far as giving you a little pout. "Oh, we can't allow that. Projects deserve to be fucked until the end. Just like yo-" 

You interrupted. "I swear if you continue that phrase, Jeong-" 

"Then what?" he interrupted you as well.

His eyes were dark. Eyelids low. But they were sparkling. 

You wouldn’t get intimidated. "I'll get you fired,” you said.

He chuckled. “That’s not what you said last weekend.” 

That’s right. It was all your fault. You’ve been bearing the heaviness of that fault for a few days now, in silence, and Jaehyun was just trying to make it even more difficult.

You leaned down slowly, looking around with circumscription but none of his crazy architect colleagues were paying attention to you two. If usually they’d be drinking champagne at 11 am discussing a building that breaks every law of gravity, they were weirdly dead inside that day. The project was probably kicking their ass too. 

Jaehyun stared at your cleavage underneath the dangling necklace you had around your neck before looking back up into your furious eyes. 

“Only because we made the mistake of kissing while drunk that Friday night, it doesn’t mean you can be unprofessional. Do you understand me?” 

The man’s eyes flickered and his cocky expression didn’t leave his pretty features. But he nodded once. “Yes, ma’am.” 

You straightened your back and cleared your voice, ignoring how that reply made your stomach churn. You blamed it on rage. Hearing his deep voice so up close made you irrationally mad. 

“Look again at that proposal of yours and the adjustments I made. I can give you a physics crash course if you need it.” 

“Really? Would you?” 

“I was being sarcastic. Do you think engineers in this place have time to babysit you little artsy people?” 

“Maybe I can give you something back for the effort?” 

You scoffed and crossed your arms, expecting some usual Jeong Jaehyun bullshit, like ‘a kiss’, ‘a date’, ‘my cock’. But he stood up and pulled down his dress pants on the thighs before getting the papers you gave him back and stacking them well together. 

“Like some artistic eye since you clearly lack that,” he said. 

You felt your jaw tighten at the insinuation. 

He got closer, his lips almost touching your ear. “There’s no need to be rude to me only because you think I’m attractive,” he lowered his voice, the little smirk never leaving his face. “I can play this game too.” 

You opened your mouth to reply but the swoosh he created by walking away made your hair get into it. 

“Thank you for the review,” he added already a few meters away. 

────────────

“It’s a theme park.” 

You licked your lips with furrowed eyes, your tongue still faintly tasting the hair conditioner. The meeting of the day was to announce the new project the firm was about to take on. One of the many you've been going crazy over lately. Of course, you had to be the one to take notes that day. You enjoyed the fair share of responsibilities your company had, but sometimes you really missed having a little secretary to do the little jobs for you. 

You sighed as your nails tapping on the keyboards accompanied the voice of the speaker. 

“There will be a few main rides we’ll be responsible for. Our engineers are great and I have huge trust in you all. For this task, you’ll have to work with the architecture team though.” 

Your typing stopped. A few of your colleagues murmured. Engineers were usually complete individuals. They could build rides for a theme park themselves with no need from the weirdos of the other office. They usually needed the engineers, never the opposite. 

“I think we’re capable of working on this on our own, sir,” you said.

The man sighed as if he expected the resistance. 

“This is just to ensure the theme park will also be-” he hesitated, “pretty.” 

The murmurs got louder. 

“Sir, you’ve seen my portfolio,” someone argued. 

“I designed a theme park on my own for my final university project and last year I-” somebody else added. 

The man lifted his palms like a tired father. “I know, I know. And your work is ideal. It is, however, very boring. Ugly colours. Mechanical innovation, yes. Is it interesting to look at? No. You’ll work with the architects. Meeting closed.” 

────────────

Jaehyun didn’t have to ask anyone why you all were mad as fuck after exiting the meeting hall. The rumour of the firm taking onto the project of a theme park has been whispered around in the CEO’s office for a few days now and he was lucky to have a charming personality and become friends with him. From the look on your face, you didn’t know and Jaehyun would have wanted to stop you and ask if you also wanted a coffee, maybe clown you a bit, but he didn’t manage to. He brought the white cup to his lips instead and blew the steam, going back with his mind to the Friday night, when you were doing the same. 

────────────

Past, 2 weeks ago, the Kiss day

“Coffee so late at night?” Jaehyun asked, getting closer to the drinks table. You were resting your red-wrapped hips on it, looking bored. 

“I had too much to drink already. Trying to sober up,” you replied and your voice came so muffled that Jaehyun had to stop and look at your face. 

You weren’t bored. 

You were completely drunk. Absolutely shit-faced. 

That wasn’t the most surprising part though. Everyone was drunk at that office party. Jaehyun himself was feeling too lightheaded for his liking. It was something else. 

“Are you acting cute right now?” he asked with a mix of shock and amusement. 

Your lips were pouty on the brim of the cup you were holding. You shook your head. 

Then you tried to take another sip from the steamy coffee but your wavering hand missed your mouth and the dark liquid slowly descended from your chin towards your chest instead. 

“Shit,” you looked down at your dress.

“God, are you okay?” Jaehyun was quick to grab a napkin. “Did you burn yourself?” 

He took the cup from your hands and put it on the table behind you before gently tapping away at your neck. 

“No, it was just warm,” you assured him. “It’s very sticky though. Poured too much sugar. I’ll go wash up,” you announced and placed your palms on his chest to gently push him away from your path. Jaehyun watched your back as you tried to walk towards the corridor but the way you were dangling to one side and then the other in your high heels made his anxiety go through the roof. 

“Wait, I’ll help you,” he wrapped your shoulders with one arm. 

You hummed as if appreciative and Jaehyun blinked a few times, squinting then relaxing his eyes to try and read all the signboards and see where the hell the bathroom was on that floor. He was also almost shitfaced from the suspicious wine the office brought, but also, he forgot his glasses home that day. 

What a couple of losers you two were. 

“Listen, I think we need to go down a few floors. I have no idea where the hell the bathroom is here.” 

You hummed again and leaned with all of your weight against Jaehyun’s chest. Your eyes were closed as if about to fall asleep. 

Jaehyun sighed, a little sarcastic “great” huffing from his chest. He let his arm fall from your shoulders to your waist for better support and he hit the lift button with his knuckles. It was fortunately already there and Jaehyun had to half drag you and half push you inside of it. For a moment he felt relieved, but then your weight pushed him against the wall and he had to wrap his arms around you again to not make you slide down. 

“Can you just hold yourself up for a second?” he felt irritated. 

But his expression relaxed as you lifted your face. Your half-closed eyes and open lips made him gulp.

“Can you smile for once? I really like your dimples,” you replied and poked one of his cheeks. 

Jaehyun was flabbergasted. The stuck-up, boring, and work-obsessed chief engineer was poking his cheek while her coffee-shined tits were pressed against his tie?  He felt like seeing you for the first time. 

“Ah, come on!” you added, grabbing his face with your hands and making him pout. “You never smile.” 

“I smile a lot, you just never look at me,” he tried to speak while your thumb was digging into his cheek. Unfortunately, he thought, but he kept that to himself. 

You tried to say something else but the ding of the elevator made Jaehyun look towards the opening doors towards a dark corridor. You turned his face towards you again and leaning in, you pressed a chaste kiss on his plump pink lips. 

Jaehyun’s eyes widened and although drunk, you looked surprised as well. “Shit, sorry,” you tried to take a step back but Jaehyun’s palms on your waist didn’t let you go. 

He slid one hand on your neck, right below the ear and pulled your face back to meet his lips again. You hummed, closing your eyes and firstly grabbed at his jacket before you finally decided to wrap his neck with your arms and abandon yourself in the kiss. Your lips tasted like sweet coffee and Jaehyun hoped it could sober him up as well because he felt suddenly very dizzy. And when you slid your tongue inside his mouth he almost moaned, letting his palms caress your spine before groping at your soft ass. Your body got even closer to his and he had to move just once to pin you against the elevator wall. You grunted and Jaehyun wondered if he pushed into you too harshly, but then you kissed him again as if you could not get enough and he relaxed, welcoming the leg you lifted on his hip. Your skin felt soft under his fingertips and it felt even softer under his lips as he started to kiss your jaw, going down your neck following the coffee trail and cleaning it up with his tongue until it reached the chest. Your eyes were closed and your hands in his hair were making his half-hard cock throb too much. With an enormous almost inhuman force he stopped, hands resting on both sides of your head, chest lifting and falling quickly. Your sensual gaze made him gulp and when you talked, he could barely hear it. 

“What?” 

“I said, what department are you from? Sales?” 

“I’m an architect. Jeong Jaehyun?” 

Your face fell so fast that Jaehyun had to take a small step back. 

“God,” you furrowed your eyebrows, “not an architect.” 

Jaehyun had to remain still for a few minutes after you left to process the whole situation. 

────────────

Past, Monday 1 after the Kiss

Monday morning came quicker than you expected and with it the memories of Jeong Jaehyun the architect’s tongue inside your mouth. The elevator you were taking was the same and with the corner of your eye, you could exactly pinpoint where he pushed you against the wall to give you the best make-out session of your whole life. You shuddered and looked away. You psyched yourself to forget everything the whole weekend, or at least, to stop worrying about it, but it was very hard when you knew you would end up seeing him at work. You tried to drink from the cup you were holding but the taste of coffee made your brain buzz with the memory of Jaehyun licking up the sweet and bitter liquid from the swell of your breasts as if he was doing it at that moment too. 

You really drunkenly kissed a coworker? An architect? Your university friends would probably laugh at you for the rest of their lives. 

You didn’t know much about him so you hoped that by not seeing him often every embarrassment would soon die out. 

But apparently, he knew a lot about you. 

The shoes you chose that day were flat and comfortable and you were quick to reach your desk and sit down, avoiding everyone that might have seen something. 

Clearing your throat you turned on your computer right before a shadow in the shape of a man could obscure the keyboard. 

You looked up and Jaehyun smiled politely, the head to the side like a little bird. 

“Good morning,” his voice was deep. 

You opened your mouth and you felt your glasses slide down your nose. “Good morning?” 

The man blinked at you for a moment as if waiting for something. “Well?” 

You slowly looked around, darting your gaze across the room to understand what the hell was going on. Was he there to talk about the kiss? Was he a little boy who thought you were dating? Did you promise something? Did you offend him and he was waiting for an apology?

“Do you need something?” you pushed your glasses back and gulped at his sudden chuckle. 

“Yes. The projects for today,” he replied with both hands politely extended towards you. 

“Huh?” 

You took in the view of the man talking to you. Wasn’t Jeong Jaehyun the architect dude with sick tongue skills, and that’s it? Why was he talking to you as if he knew you? 

Then you felt as if the gods themselves hit you in the back of your head. 

“You’re-” you covered your mouth with the fingers, “you’re Jisung?” 

The man’s smile disappeared to make space for confusion. He furrowed his eyebrows while thinking about what he could reply to that. 

“You do call me a different J name every time so, I guess that’s technically true for you.” 

You took off your glasses because you were afraid the sudden heat wave to your cheeks and chest could melt them off. 

“I thought you were-,” you started, “I thought you were some assistant. You’re the Architect team chief Jeong Jaehyun? The man that I kis-”, you stopped yourself. 

Jaehyun couldn’t conceal a sudden chuckle but you also saw the shadow of annoyance in his dark eyes. 

“You had no idea who I was all of this time we worked together? We talk all mornings and you hand me the projects.” 

You were too stunned to speak. 

“We’ve been doing this for months now,” he added. 

You felt your mouth dry. 

Jaehyun scoffed and placed his hands on your desk, leaning down as if having a secret to share. 

You gulped and looked around but no one paid you any mind. 

“You need Architects to make out with you for you to remember their name and face?” 

His whisper made your skin shiver and while you were previously looking at his eyes, you had to stare at his necktie instead after that phrase. 

“Why do you keep coming to my office? You have nothing else to do? Send some assistant over from now on,” you blabbed. 

Jaehyun straightened his back. 

“Okay.” 

You nodded as if you just somehow resolved that embarrassing issue. 

“You’ll come to my office starting tomorrow and hand me the projects instead.” 

“What?” your voice was louder than you expected and a few heads turned around. 

Jaehyun’s lips stretched in a lazy and cocky smile. “I’ll get them. For today,” he grabbed the pile of papers from your desk. “Thank you.” 

His back looked huge as he turned around and exited the office. 

────────────

Jaehyun was fuming. 

He threw the papers on his desk with such violence that two poor interns jumped in place with their little coffees. 

“Everything is under control. Go back to work and mind your business,” he barked at them. 

He forgot he styled his hair that morning and when he tried to pass one hand through the fringe his fingers got stuck in the wax. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he sat down and unbuttoned his sleeves instead, rolling them up. 

You really had no idea who he was. 

He was shocked, embarrassed, and so fucking offended. 

No, he felt humiliated. 

All of those mornings of him longing- no. He would not admit that to himself. All of those mornings of him working with you and you couldn’t even remember his name, let alone his face. 

Was everyone just a nameless and faceless pawn around you? He has never seen a more arrogant and rude person in his whole life. 

And the fact he was still burning with desire for such a conceited woman was driving him insane with rage. 

────────────

Your fingers were a bit trembling after Jaehyun left. That was possibly the most embarrassing experience of your entire existence. 

You rested your forehead on your palms and waited for a few minutes to see if you could get your shit together and start working. 

And you kissed. For fuck’s sake. 

The mewl that escaped your lips caught the attention of some fellow engineers who were kind enough to stop and ask if you had some sort of stomach ache. 

You lifted your head to look at them in the eyes and you realized you had no idea who these people were. 

Your parents have always told you to stop overworking yourself and start having a bit of fun too, especially in school. It shouldn’t have been such a huge issue, but realizing you made zero close friends or even acquaintances because you’ve been staring at your desk and computer for all of that time was a shocking realization. 

You cleared your throat and gave your coworkers the kindest smile you could pull off. 

“I am fine. Thank you very much.” 

The people whispered something between themselves and walked away with awkward nods. 

“She’s definitely sick. She smiled.” 

“You know when people are about to die and they change personality all of a sudden?”

“She never looked me in the eyes before. I felt like getting turned to stone after seeing Medusa.” 

You felt your glasses slide down your nose again at the gossip and you exhaled deeply. 

Jeong Jaehyun - and his tongue - made you realize people considered you the worst bitch in the universe. 

────────────

The HR secretary furrowed his eyebrows. 

“What do you mean, all profiles?” 

You were tapping your thigh with one fingertip in front of his desk. 

“I need all profiles of all workers in the company to choose the- uh- the best team for this huge important project, yeah.”

The young man wasn’t impressed but he wasn’t going to deny the desires of the notorious Chief Engineer. 

“I will send you the credentials to access the files, ma’am. Anything else I can do for you?” 

“Thank you. That’s all,” you gave him a small nod and turned around. “Actually,” you stopped in place and hesitated. “I know this is not your job but could you talk to someone and bring coffee to the Architets’ office?” 

The secretary blinked. “Coffee, ma’am?” 

You gulped down the irritation. “Yes, please. Don’t say it’s from me. Please.” 

────────────

“This coffee is a gift from Chief Engineer Y/N,” the HR secretary announced as he accompanied the interns carrying a tray. 

Jaehyun was groaning and extending his arms above his head when he suddenly heard the commotion. 

“I think she’s punishing us for something we did,” one person said, grabbing a cup of coffee and looking at it suspiciously. “This is also so expensive.”

“Well, even if she spit in it, I will drink it, you know what I mean,” another winked and got shoulder hit by his cackling friends. “What? She’s scary but she’s hot.” 

“She’d probably bite your dick off.”

Jaehyun got closer and stared down the iron tray. 

“You said Y/N sent this?” he asked the secretary who seemed just as baffled, Jaehyun realized. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Did she say why?” Jaehyun grabbed a cup and smelled it. Normal coffee. 

“No clue sir. She instructed me to not tell you she sent it but-,” he interrupted himself and got closer. Jaehyun leaned towards him to hear. “-we need to track who’s giving what food to whom, you know. It’s right for you to know if perhaps something bad happens to all of you.” 

Jaehyun winced. The jokes about you being evil were funny only when he made them. 

“You don’t think she would actually do something to this coffee, right?” Jaehyun asked. 

The secretary straightened his back and although Jaehyun had no idea what expression he had on, the other man felt somehow intimidated because he stuttered a tiny “no, sir.” 

“Good. Why did she ask you to do this?” 

“Oh that, she came over to ask the profiles of all the people working at our company.” 

Jaehyun’s head was hurting. You were so convoluted. 

“Why?” 

“No clue, sir. She said something about making up a team.” 

You had no business reading the info of all of your coworkers for that. The idea of you wanting to learn more about him after the terrible interaction you had that morning made him roll his eyes in annoyance at how good it felt for a second. 

────────────

You felt like a thief although you got the info of everyone legally. You cleared your throat and started to scroll through all the profiles, mildly interested. You opened the first one and tried to read but then you puffed your cheeks and closed it. 

The J was in the middle and you pretended to have accidentally stumbled upon Jeong Jaehyun’s profile instead. 

Alright alright, you yelled at yourself in your mind. You were interested. God, his kiss was so good and his face, wow. You couldn’t forgive yourself for not looking at him once in all of those months. 

And you’ve been so rude to him. You shivered. 

Jeong Jaehyun 14 February 1997. 

You rolled your eyes. That birthday must have been made up. It’s impossible for a man like him to be a Valentine Boy. 

You tried to remember what you knew about Aquarius but your astrology knowledge was too limited so you hoped that would be compatible with your sign. 

Pause no. Why were you thinking about astrology compatibility? Maybe you were actually dying?

Tsk, graduated cum laude, the rascal. He wasn’t just pretty but also smart. 

Your eyes slowly darted across the page, eating up all the info the company could legally allow you to read and you had to admit that his projects had been insane even before coming to your company. 

And the ones he had under his belt afterwards? Well, they were all projects you also worked on. You felt sick. 

Were you really such a bad person?  

You sighed and closed his profile, starting to read the others. 

────────────

Jaehyun’s day has never felt longer. He thought he should probably go to the gym because the pain in his back was only getting worse and he should probably extend those muscles somehow. 

His brain was going over the menu for the dinner as well when he heard your voice in the main hall. He exited the lift and saw your smiling face greeting some of your fellow engineer colleagues. 

“Good work today, Minnie.” 

Poor Minnie smiled back as if the queen herself greeted her and almost tripped against the poor man who got blinded by your sudden kindness. 

Jaehyun stopped in place and sighed, trying to suppress the cackle. 

“See you tomorrow, ma’am,” the man added. 

“Have a nice evening, Yeonjun.” 

Jaehyun lifted one eyebrow at Yeonjun’s glossy eyes and walked over. 

He saw you sigh and turn around right into his chest. 

“I see you’ve done your homework.” 

You gasped and took a step back to be able to see him in the face.

“Do you remember my name too?” Jaehyun added with a cocky smile and you exhaled, crossing your arms on your chest. 

“Of course, I do.” 

Jaehyun buttoned up his jacket with a smile. “Good. Don’t forget to come to my office with the projects tomorrow.” 

“Listen,” you stopped him as he tried to walk around you. “I am- sorry for what happened this morning. I am very embarrassed about it.” 

You couldn’t look him in the eyes and Jaehyun had to tighten his fist inside his pants pocket at how cute you looked. 

“But-” you lifted your gaze on him. It was piercing. “-you have no right to treat me like this.” 

“Like this how?” 

“You’re punishing me.” 

Jaehyun opened his mouth then closed it at the accusation. It was true but he didn’t like for you to know about it. 

“I am not.” 

“You are.” 

“Coming to my office and seeing my pretty face is a punishment in your opinion?”

You put your tongue in the cheek with a scoff. “This. You’re- so cocky. You’re annoying.” 

Jaehyun’s dimples made an appearance. “You think I’m annoying? You didn’t know who I was after months of working together. That’s annoying.” 

“I apologized.” 

“Very insincerely so.” 

“I learned everything about you.” 

“Stalker.” 

You scoffed again, putting your hands on your hips. His everlasting smile was driving you nuts. 

“Alright. See you tomorrow, then. In your office. I’ll gladly hand you your work as you clearly burn with desire for me to do.” 

────────────

Back to Present, 2 weeks after the Kiss

The following days rolled on fairly easily. The annoyance and anxiety about going to Jaehyun’s office died slowly as you realized you only had to walk over, say hi, and place papers on his desk. 

If he thought you were rude by not small talking it wasn’t worse than not remembering his name and face after months of working together. 

Everything went back to normal and you started to be also decently popular in your office. Shocker, but if the chief is in a good mood and treats everyone with kindness, everyone works more efficiently. That’s the only good thing Jaehyun brought into your life. 

Well, that was until that day and the stupid yellow Post-it sticker on your desk. 

“Can you kindly check these and confirm they’re okay? JJ :)”  was still in front of you on your desk after the meeting about the Theme Park. 

There’s no need to be rude to me only because you think I’m attractive, was also still rolling in your brain and you wanted to go back to his office and yell that he was not attractive at all. He was just an annoying prick who had the upper hand because you embarrassed yourself in front of him once. 

But there were limits to all and he was starting to be too much. 

────────────

Jaehyun expected an Engineers and Architects meeting to happen at a certain point but he didn’t expect for it to be only the two of you. 

“So, I guess you’ve heard but we’re tasked to work together on a theme park.” 

You were alone in the huge meeting hall, one in front of the other, the large shiny desk separating you. Jaehyun looked at your white button down snuggly covering your breasts and the tiny bit of lace adorning your bra pocking out made him swallow dryly for the fourth time in one minute. 

“Yes,” he simply said. You moved and the shirt covered the lace. He sighed. “We can finally have a pretty theme park.” 

You rolled your eyes and Jaehyun wondered if you’d roll them the same way while he’d pound you into the mattress. 

His crush on you has been annoying him for a while now, but the recent development and the fact you didn’t even know who he was for a long time while he was under the impression that you might fuck soon has been a very low blow to his self-esteem. 

Now, he was trying to fight the attraction so badly but his cock had a brain of his own apparently because even if he found you arrogant and annoying, he really liked the soft side you showed him multiple times and that turned him on too much to ignore. 

“Engineers also have taste.” 

“Well you kissed me so I guess you do have a bit of taste, I’ll give you that.” 

You let the pen go and crossed your arms on your chest. “Can’t you keep it in your pants for one second so we can discuss this like normal adult coworkers?” 

“It is in my pants.” 

“You’re being inappropriate.” 

“You brought up cock talk.” 

“You brought up kiss talk.” 

“You kissed me first.” 

Jaehyun smiled at the victory and you leaned back in the chair. 

“Can we please stop talking about that and pretend it never happened?” 

“Actually you owe me another apology.” 

You waited with a lifted eyebrow. 

“You basically said ew architects after kissing me that night.” 

You scoffed. “And I stand by that. I’m not apologizing. Are baby architect’s feelings hurt?” 

Jaehyun licked his lower lip in annoyance. “Why?” 

“Why what?” 

“Why do you hate architects so much?” 

“Why do you hate engineers?” you resorted. 

“I don’t hate you.” 

“You do.” 

He lowered his voice. “I don’t. You want me to hate you, maybe.” 

“Why would I want that?” 

“That’s your homework for the day. Think about it.” 

“If you’re under the impression that I pretend to hate you because I secretly like you so I secretly would like for that to be the case from your part too, well, you’re wrong,” you smiled although you started to feel the muscles of your thighs shake ever so slightly under the desk. The building was almost empty and the lights were getting turned off one by one leaving you and Jaehyun alone in the huge room, faces illuminated by the blue screens of the computers and the constellation of lights of the skyline. 

“That’s a very convoluted thought. Of course, you don’t like me. You don’t even know me.” 

“You can stop rubbing that in. I know you now.” 

“Well, then it’s a matter of time before you start liking me.” 

“You’re so arrogant.” 

“I am arrogant?” 

“Well, I don’t have the presumption that everyone in the building is onto me.” 

“How do you even know I’m like that? You don’t know me.” 

“You walk around like you have a 9 inches cock.” 

Jaehyun widened his eyes for a second then leaned forward to laugh. His eyes closed and his perfect teeth shone on display. You realized he got whiskers when laughing hard. It pissed you off. 

“And if I do?” he tried. 

You scoffed with a smile. “That’s not human.” 

“9 is a lot, I’ll give you that, but it's not inhuman.”

“Well, I hope you don’t have 9 because I’d be worried about your lower back carrying that around.” 

“Holy shit, I do have back problems. You think it’s that?” 

“For fuck’s sake, Jeong Jaehyun. Please let’s get back to work.” 

Jaehyun stopped talking and you started to actually explain the new project. You both liked the little smile that remained on each other’s lips. 

────────────

Jaehyun was not at his desk that morning so you bit your lower lip, slowly putting down the files for the day. You had no reason to see each other or talk about anything else since both teams had to work on their share of tasks before meeting again but you just wanted to- you had no idea what.

You looked around and touched a few of his desk items before noticing his phone silently blowing up. You looked around the office to see if he was coming but he was nowhere to be seen. The walk around the desk felt natural but also stealthy and you hoped no one was looking at you. You sat in his chair and the jacket he kept on it smelled like him. 

You sighed. Ew men and their hot cologne, right? 

The phone’s screen had no time to turn off as text notifications rolled on the screen again and again underneath your gaze. You wondered if he was part of many active groupchats before realizing they were all private messages both from registered numbers and numbers with no name. 

You felt your throat itchy upon realizing they were mostly from women trying to chit-chat. You scoffed, staring the phone down. He was that popular huh? And he wasn’t replying to any of them? He was so arrogant-

“Fuck!” you whimpered, bringing one hand to the back of your neck and finding someone’s cold knuckles. “What do you think you’re-” you grabbed the hand and turned around. Jaehyun’s perfect eyebrow was lifted. 

“What are you doing at my desk?” he asked, interrupting your question. 

“I came to give you the files,” you stood up and looked at your hand still holding his fingers. You let them go in the same instant. 

He hummed and sat down before realizing you were still there. “Is there something I can do for you?” he turned towards you in his chair. 

You cleared your throat. “I need your phone number.” 

You had no idea why you said that but it was too late. You tried to maintain a neutral face.

Jaehyun’s expression didn’t tell you anything about what he thought. 

“You have it. It’s written on the file all workers have-” 

“Your personal cellphone number,” you interrupted him. 

The man’s eyes were piercing but you didn’t want to look away. Your brain was running quickly to make up some excuse about why you wanted it but he didn’t ask. 

He extended one arm to reach the pen holder and got one, clicking it. When he turned around he searched for your hand, the same holding his fingers before, and grabbed it gently, palm towards his face. 

“Why are your hands so cold?” you mumbled as he started to scribble on your skin. 

“Because my heart is warm,” he replied without missing a beat. “Also, I just washed them.” 

You rolled your eyes, watching him write his number slowly. His fingers were on your pulse and you hoped he could not feel how quick it was starting to get. Why was he writing on your hand instead of a piece of paper? And why didn’t you just take your hand away? Being around him made you feel and act stupid.

One strand of hair fell from his hairdo, obscuring his eyes from your gaze, but then he finished and looked up at you, the neck extended showing a single vein popping out from his tight collar. 

“There you go,” he added. 

You slid your hand from his hold and fought the urge to tighten it in a fist as if to hide something shameful. 

“Thank you,” you replied and exited the office. 

────────────

That night you were at your home desk, head in hands, trying to come up with a problem about the project you could text Jaehyun about. 

Everything could be an email and bothering coworkers outside of working hours was abhorrent, but he was Jaehyun and you didn’t care if he got mad at you. 

No. You wanted him to get mad at you. But why?

You couldn’t think of anything at all so you let your phone go and walked towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of wine. 

Last time you got drunk you kissed him, you remembered. The glass was cold and the wine fresh and you tried to drown the memories of his lips on yours because they made you shiver in embarrassment. Or desire? 

Your growling stomach communicated the need for a snack too but the only thing you could think of making were chicken nuggets so you threw them on an oven tray and hoped for the best. 

When Jaehyun heard his phone ring he was about to jump on the bed, kicking his feet and giggling before realizing he was a grown man with cock and balls. 

“Hello?” he talked into it calmly, after clearing his voice. He knew you'd call after that awkward encounter in his office and he paced the apartment the whole evening.

“Hey,” your voice on the other line sounded muffled. “You answer surprisingly well for someone that gets calls and texts from women 24/7.” 

Jaehyun smiled and sat on the bed. “So this is what it was about, huh.” 

You didn’t reply for a moment and he desperately wanted to know what expression you had on. 

“I’m calling because of an issue with the project,” you mumbled after a bit. 

“Y/N,” Jaehyun called calmly. 

“Yes.”

“Are you drunk?” 

“I am not drunk. I am working right now!” 

“Every time you’re drunk you think of me?” 

“I said I am not drunk.” 

Jaehyun kept ignoring you. “Well, you can’t deny it’s a weird coincidence.” 

“Fuck-” you suddenly said and Jaehyun stopped talking. 

“Oh, shit-” you repeated and dropped your phone, probably on the ground. 

“Y/N, what’s happening?” 

Jaehyun could not make sense of any of the sounds on the other side but it didn’t seem anything good. 

“Y/N, everything is fine?” he spoke again but you probably couldn’t hear him. 

“My fucking nuggets-” he heard your whimper as if far away and the moment the smoke detector went off and you mumbled something about a fire extinguisher Jaehyun got his shoes and ran outside his apartment. 

────────────

Your voice got cut off as soon as you opened the door after the endless incessant doorbell rings from someone clearly very panicked. You opened and his arms were so strong that your breath went missing and you were forced to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck by the sheer force of his embrace. You’ve never seen him with soft unstyled hair and the worried expression underneath his fringe just made him even cuter. 

“You’re just-,” you heard Jaehyun’s deep voice on the crown of your head, “-so fucking stupid.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows but he went on. 

“So irresponsible. I am shocked at how you could have let your fucking oven burn when you have the brains to build a whole city.” 

“I was distracted,” you spoke softly into his shirt. It smelled like laundry detergent. His mix of insults and compliments weirdly made you giggle.

Jaehyun let you go and grabbed your face with both hands, finally looking at you frantically and squishing your cheeks. 

“I am okay,” you assured him. “Everything is under control.” 

The man sighed deeply as if slightly placated but the line between his eyebrows didn’t get smoothed out. And when he finally looked behind you and assessed the tragic situation of your burned-out oven covered in white foam he had to close his eyes for a moment to gather his shit. 

“It’s okay! It was an old oven anyway,” you turned around, trying to ignore that he was still holding your hand. 

“Your house could have burned down with you in it.”

“How do you even know where I live? And you called me the stalker?” you confronted him. 

“It’s written in your profile.” 

He let go of your hand and got closer to the kitchen, looking at the mess with hands on the hips like the embodiment of a dad. It made your guts tingle. 

“Sure. And you know all the addresses of all of your coworkers,” you followed him, resting your elbows on the island. 

“Of course, I don’t. I don’t like them. Stop talking nonsense and let’s clean this out.” 

You had no idea in what capacity you helped because at a certain point Jaehyun just gave you a glass of water and told you to sit down. 

You didn’t feel that well. 

Both because you were kinda tipsy and you went through all stages of grief putting out a fire, but also because he was there, and he said he liked you. Right? Jung Jaehyun said he liked you. 

And not only. 

"I know you're capable of dealing with this alone. You don't need my help but I'd like to help," he said as you tried to push him to the side and clean the mess yourself. No one talked like that before and a weird fuzzy sensation softened the muscles in your legs making you sit down. 

You sipped on the water without talking back, staring at the way his forearms were flexing while cleaning out your oven and the surroundings.

“No need to be meticulous. They’re coming tomorrow to change it anyway,” you tried, feeling awkward as no one did you any favours before. 

Jaehyun didn’t reply and you realized he looked very handsome when focused. Well, not that he was ugly when unfocused, but the way his jaw looked sharper and his gaze darker made you sigh and take another sip of water. 

“Is your hair bothering you? I can give you a headband,” you tried again. 

“You are bothering me.” 

You scoffed. “I am trying to be nice right now. Your hair is pretty long. Doesn’t it go in your eyes?” 

You were expecting some witty flirty reply back, along the lines of you pushing it back for him, but Jaehyun didn’t look in the mood. 

The truth was that you felt very embarrassed about the situation; as if you failed at something and Jaehyun was scolding you. That was new for you. 

“Fuck, this could have been a tragedy,” he mumbled, as if almost on cue. 

“I am sorry to have worried you.” 

Jaehyun stopped to look at you. “Why are you apologising to me? You’re the one surviving a fire.” 

“But I am okay. You seem much more shaken than me.” 

Jaehyun kept silent and when he stood up you realized he finished cleaning up the foam and the dark burning spots. You stared at the back of his head as he washed his hands in the sink. 

“Also thank you for being here,” you added. You didn’t know what else to do so you got up and walked towards him. Was a hug weird? Should you just shake his hand and call him a pal? 

His body stiffened a bit feeling your timid arms around his waist. “You’re still drunk?” he simply said, patting his hands dry with your kitchen towel.  You stopped and slid them away. 

“You said you like me,” you mumbled against his back. 

“Yep, still very drunk.” 

He grabbed your hands to be able to turn around and face you, resting his hips against the kitchen cabinet. 

“You said there were issues about the project when you called,” he added. 

You blinked at him. “You really want to talk about work right now?” 

Maybe he did. He was your coworker after all. And he certainly didn’t come over to “save” your sorry ass if you didn’t call him about it. 

Suddenly you felt very embarrassed. 

You kissed the man in an elevator after not even remembering his name and then asked for his number and now you wanted to make out with him in front of your destroyed oven? 

You gulped and took a small step back but your breath stopped as his hands holding yours grabbed your waist instead and didn’t let you move away too much. 

“I am buying some time,” he explained. 

Your voices got so low that you barely could hear him, but your gaze on his lips helped you understand what he was talking about. 

“Are you scared to kiss me again?” you asked. 

“Are you going to ask me to forget it happened Monday morning again?” 

His fingers were delicate on your skin for a moment you remembered you were wearing your pajamas. The thin top definitely didn’t hide anything from his gaze and the midriff being exposed to his knuckles made you shiver. 

“I won’t ask to do that if you don’t make it awkward.” 

“Fucking your coworker is always awkward.” 

You blinked at him as if suddenly realizing you were standing half naked between your hot coworker’s thighs (who was an architect!!) “I didn’t say I was planning to fuck. Just-uhm kiss.” 

Jaehyun smiled and your eyes darted to his dimples then back to the white flash of his teeth. 

“You think you’ll be able to stop after one single kiss?” 

You stepped back and crossed your arms on your chest to feign confidence but mostly to hide the tremor in your arms. "Try me."

Jaehyun took a moment to let his gaze slide on your features. “You get very cute when you’re drunk, you know that?” 

“Well, to quote someone, I guess the stick I have up my ass disappears.” 

“I can put it ba-”

You put your fingers on his lips. “You will not continue that disgusting phrase,” you warned. 

Jaehyun smiled wider and his lips rubbed on your skin. He kissed the spot then he kissed one of the fingertips. You inhaled, eyes trained on his gaze, unable to move away anymore as the room suddenly got sucked of any sound besides your own breath. 

He grabbed that hand and kissed your wrist, this time closing his eyes for a moment as if savouring it. You gulped. And when he locked eyes with you the shiver that went down your spine manifested in a little exhale. Jaehyun smiled again, a little curve on his plump lips you felt on the softness of your fingers. 

The kiss felt the same as the first one you exchanged in the elevator after he pulled you closer towards himself. But this time you took your sweet time, letting your palms feel his chest, the skin on his neck, the thick hair on his nape. He did the same, caressing your back with his knuckles, rubbing your thighs with his blunt nails, and grabbing your ass in your flimsy shorts. 

You whimpered in his mouth at the feeling and he hummed back, a low sound, almost a growl, your lips apart but tongues still swirling until you dove back in. 

“Can’t you be like this in the office too?” his murmur made your eyes open. He was licking his lips while his fingers intertwined with yours in a slow dance of pushing you back towards the couch. 

“You want me to get called by HR?” 

He flashed you a small chuckle. “That secretary is so scared of you by the way. He thought you poisoned the coffee.” 

The couch’s arm dug into your thighs and you sat on it, pulling Jaehyun closed by the waistband of his sweats. His eyelashes fluttered as you looked up at him, then again as you dragged your palm upwards underneath his shirt. 

“And you think I didn’t?” you tilted your head to the side. 

“I am still alive.” 

“Not for too long. I might suck the life out of you," you placed a single wet kiss on his hip bone making him hiss. “Take this off,” you tugged at the shirt. 

Jaehyun’s hum was low. “Shit. Ordering me around?”

You looked up. “Please take this off?” you changed your tone but you couldn’t hide the mockery. 

He exhaled amused and did it in a second, pulling it by the collar and throwing it on the ground. But you didn’t have time to do what you intended to because the torso you so desperately wanted to see disappeared from your sight - Jung Jaehyun Chief of the Architect Department fell on his knees, savouring the delicate skin of your inner thigh. 

You gasped at the sensation and the anticipation of what was actually going to happen made you suddenly dizzy. 

You wanted to grab his hair to support yourself, physically or morally, but his head jerked back and with the most angelic and devilish smile, he pushed you back on the couch. 

“You should be respectful,” you chuckled at the manhandling. "I'm a senior." 

Jaehyun grabbed your ankles with one hand as a reply while the other swiftly slid your garments off your body. “I will be respectful after I am done,” he murmured. “For now you will have to take the disrespect, I’m afraid.”

You tried to think of a witty phrase but your legs were being directed on his shoulders, his knees were on the carpet in front of you now and his voice came from between your thighs. Oh, and you were naked. 

Too much work for your brain. 

“Thought you were a gentleman.” You didn't like your shaky voice. You didn’t like any of this. Didn’t you make some kind of bet just moments before? You forgot anything you two said to each other already. 

“I am a gentleman who knows when to not be gentle.”

And you soon realized what that meant. 

You had no idea if other men's tongues have felt that velvety before or if you were just developing the fattest crush on Jeong Jaehyun the Architect as he was devouring you and making you biased. But fuck he knew how to eat pussy. And you made sure he knew that. 

Jaehyun hummed appreciatively at the praise, his deep eyes covered by his long eyelashes making you unable to look away. So you slid your hand in his luscious hair, pushing it away from his face and pulled a bit. His arms and back muscles flinched and he visibly enjoyed your breathy moans when he increased the pace of his tongue's movement. 

"Shit, Jaehyun-" you curled your toes against the smooth skin of his spine then gasped, feeling his long fingers rub your slick before swiftly sliding inside of you. It was wet and messy and loud and the moment he let go of your clit with a dirty plop to start kissing your stomach instead you knew that night wasn't going to end with just that. Should you stop him? Should you continue? Would you be okay tomorrow? 

"Where are you?" Jaehyun curled his fingers and you bit your lower lip. 

"I'm here," you replied against his wet lips, body rocking back and forth on the couch as he fingerfucked you, the veins popping on his bicep making you swallow dryly. 

"I need you to focus on me. What are you thinking about?" he leaned down to rub his nose against your ear before outlining it with his tongue. 

You shivered underneath him and your nails probably left some indents in his pristine skin. 

"About how much I want your cock inside of me," you exhaled. That was the truth. 

Jaehyun hummed deeply and his breath became more shallow. 

"And?" he kissed your neck slowly, so different from the pace of his wrist to make you dizzy. 

"And I'm thinking of the consequences," you curved your spine, raising the tone of your voice on the last syllables. "Fuck, Jeong, this is-"

"Yeah?" he came back to your mouth, letting you whimper your moans against his lips. "You want me to stop then? No orgasm, no consequences."

"If you stop-"

"Then what?" 

You shuddered, frantically palming his hard chest then going down to loosely grab his moving wrist. 

"Are you going to beg for it? I'm kinda curious to see you like that," he added. The roughness in his already deep voice sealed the deal and you couldn't do anything but let your head fall back and bite down a scream as you came around Jaehyun's fingers. It was too late. It was already too late the moment you pushed him against the damn elevator wall. 

He let you decide when he should stop moving his fingers and you felt yourself clench rhythmically around them as you desperately tried to calm down. His lips were on your throat and you realized that he was talking, murmuring something so sweetly that for a moment you wished for him to just hold you until you fell asleep. 

"Good girl," he placed a kiss on the tender skin, then on the corner of your lips as you opened your eyes to look at his gorgeous face. His cheeks and ears were dusty pink and it made your heart skip a beat. 

You pulled him down and kissed him again, slowly and deeply. Then he smiled, stopping your hand from reaching underneath his sweatpants. 

"Tonight is all about you," he whispered. 

You furrowed your eyebrows but the mind-blowing orgasm blew your mind so well that you had no reply. 

"Why?" Your voice was a quiet waver. 

"I don't want you to regret anything," he replied. "And I don't want you to think about the consequences." 

Somehow it made sense. Waking up tomorrow and realizing you let him fuck you with his tongue felt better than realizing he came down your throat. 

Were you really that proud? Maybe you did have a stick up your ass. 

"Don't argue with me," he gave you a crooked smile as he got up on his knees. 

"I'm not arguing with you."

"You have a specific look in your eyes when you're about to debate me." 

You crossed your arms on your chest mostly to cover up given the sudden disappearance of his body from on top of you. Then you sat up and closed your legs. 

"That's not true. You're making things up." 

Jaehyun collected his shirt with another smile and you stared at his long back and the way his sweatpants sat low on his hips. 

The fucking consequences. 

"I really need you though," you whispered. 

Jaehyun wore his top. "How do you want me?"

"Riding," you replied. 

He chuckled. "Of course you do. You can't possibly let an architect force you to your knees, can you?."

You curled your toes at his words. "No, sir." 

Yes, he fucking could. 

Jaehyun leaned down again to slide his hand on your jaw and almost kiss you. But he whispered instead. 

"I'll let you ride me if you keep calling me sir." 

────────────

You didn't notice when Jaehyun left your apartment that night. You thought that the way he took you to your bed bridal style and let you nuzzle into his chest would roam your brain the whole night and would prevent you from falling asleep yet you had the best night's sleep in months.

And you hated to admit it but waking up that morning you felt embarrassed out of your mind but you'd probably have crawled out of your skin if you actually fucked him until the end.

"Hope you got home well," you texted him. Maybe that was how adults did stuff. Maybe that’s what he wanted from you in the first place. Just fucking. Yet why was he so considerate? 

"Yes :)", he replied with his stupid smiley face a second after. Was he not busy? How did he even see your texts in the middle of the hundred he was getting? That made you almost kick your feet and you realized you were slowly descending into madness. 

"And I slept as well as you did after taking care of your gift," he added. 

You furrowed your eyebrows. "What gift?"

"My boner" 

You sighed so much that you thought you had turned into a horse. Then you had to pass one hand on your face as flashes of Jaehyun's hand fucking his cock while thinking of you entered your brain. 

"It was you who stopped me from taking care of it myself." He was driving you insane. Your coworker - an architect (!!!). 

"I wasn't blaming you :)" 

"You're a bit of a masochist"

"I'm everything when I'm with you" 

"Barf"

"Honestly I thought you wouldn't even want to talk to me today" 

"Well we both know that you have poor judgement" 

"Maybe I should have let you ride after all :)" 

"Okay byee I'm turning off my phone" 

"Or suck me well"

"I'm blocking this number" 

"Or let me blow your back" 

"Sending this to HR" 

"Andy, if you're reading this, the Chief Engineer let me fuck her with my tongue and she liked it"

────────────

Texting and fooling around was one thing, but seeing his polished figure while sober and in the middle of the workplace made you almost have a panic attack.

"Good morning," you trilled, hands already pushing the files on his desk. 

"Hey," he lifted his face and gave you a warm but professional smile. 

"See you around," you nodded once and turned towards the exit hoping not to hit the glass door with your face. 

He let you go.

Then you came back the day after. And again. And again. No further exchange. Give papers. Take papers. See his face. Lose your mind at night with your hand between your legs and his name on your lips.

Then your name, pronounced by those lips you’ve been staring at as he pretended to sleep the previous weekend, made you stop in place and close your eyes. You swallowed and got ready to turn around. 

He was already there, standing right behind you and you inhaled his cologne as you took a step back. 

His shirt was open enough for his collarbone to peek through and the way his half-exposed arms looked, crossed on his chest, made you almost angry. 

“Would you like to have lunch together?” he asked. 

You lifted your gaze to meet his eyes the looked around his figure. Jaehyun smiled, tilting his head to the side to get in the middle of your gaze. 

“Don’t look at them. Look at me,” he added. 

“It’s easy for rumours to start forming,” you murmured, imitating his pose. Your fingers grabbed your arms perhaps a bit too hard. 

“It’s just a normal lunch.” 

“I don’t do normal lunches. It would look weird.” 

“At least you’re self-aware.” 

You snorted and turned around. “The last floor is always empty,” you only said as you walked away. 

────────────

Jaehyun didn’t actually expect you to be there. Somehow he thought the way your voice would waver when he was around, or the way you melted under his touch back in your apartment, the noises that you made because of him, all because of him, was just some incredibly orchestrated big joke. You didn’t try to speak to him after that weekend and you didn’t linger around his desk anymore. Hell, you didn’t even text him. 

He had to do something or he would go insane. 

Yet you were in the last room of the upper floor, sitting down on the only couch inside of it, staring at your little plastic container with your lunch and waiting for him. 

You were adorable. 

He had to stop in place before entering to gather his shit. 

Then he knocked two times on the glass frosted door and your head snapped. Your eyes looked so pretty that he felt his fingertips tickle. 

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” you replied. 

Jaehyun closed the door behind him and he could sense the way your spine tensioned. He wanted to pass his palm on it, he wanted you to curve it as he’d grab your neck to pull you up against his chest as he’d pound into you from behind again and again until you’d break. 

“What have you got?” he walked slowly and sat down. The couch was sturdy enough. He made a mental note. 

You looked down at your container as if seeing it for the first time. “Cold pasta. What about you?” 

Jaehyun licked his lips. There you were, looking at him as if hoping for him to devour you. 

"Don't look at me like that."

You closed your mouth. “Like what?” you smirked.

He exhaled. 

"Should I close my eyes then?" you giggled. 

Jaehyun opened his lips to breathe and your gaze fell on them.

"Do you know what would keep my eyes closed?" you asked with a lower voice.

The man's eyes darkened and a whiff of air dilated his nostrils as he leaned in and knocked the air out of your lungs. The kiss was rough and its rhythm erratic. His palms were on your jaw and cupping your head. Yours were on his chest, grabbing at his shirt. You had no idea where your food containers disappeared because suddenly your hands were full of him and your legs straddling his body as he plopped you on his lap. 

You opened your eyes a little when you felt him pull away to let you breathe, the air flowing between your lips still brushing against each other. You looked at them, they were flushed and plump and you desperately needed to taste them again. His gaze was on your eyes and his deep voice surprised you.

"You opened them again." His voice was so deep that you felt it vibrating in your chest. 

You met his eyes.

"I guess you'll have to keep kissing me, then."

His palms on your waist felt wide and so warm that when he slid them on your ass to pull you closer you felt like mewling. Close so close it was so close and you were at work. You were kissing at work. You were sitting on his lap, on his sexy black dress pants, fingers sliding in the slit of his shirt, feeling his chest, his neck, his jaw, his hair. Fuck. 

“We need to slow down,” you exhaled, pulling yourself away from him.

“Why? You’re afraid you’re going to cum too quickly?”

His arms wrapped around you even tighter and his amused and warm mouth attached to your throat instead. You felt your eyes roll back in your head as he nibbled on your skin, peppering wet kisses all over it. And when he scooted his hips forward, his palms on your ass pulling you closer until your chest hit his face, you inhaled feeling his hard cock underneath you. Jaehyun looked up, drinking in your reaction. 

“Show me how much you want this. Show me that you don’t care about the damn consequences.”

Like a spell, your hips started to move on their own, rubbing yourself on him. You were desperate, humping him like a mad woman and his choked moan as he let his head fall back on the couch, extending his throat, was the final thing about his maddening presence to fully break your mind.

"Does it feel good, sir?" you didn't hide the mockery in your tone, feeling your control sliding back in your hands. 

But then Jaehyun shattered it again.

"Ride me."

His eyes were two dark cuts under his scrunched eyebrows and his command made your whole center boil. You stopped your movements and you shuddered on top of him. 

His chest was expanding and shrinking under your palms and when you pushed into it to be able to stand his Adam apple shifted in his throat as he swallowed. 

"Undress me."

Your order made his tongue poke his inner cheek and you smirked, mirroring his expression.

Jaehyun sat closer to the edge of the couch to reach your body and your skin shivered with goosebumps the moment his long fingers unbuttoned your pants. His gaze never shifted away from your face and it made you boil with need. 

The fabric hit the floor and you scooted it to the side, the pant legs so wide your heels just passing through, leaving you and your naked and elongated legs for Jaehyun to touch with his wide palms. They were warm as they slid up your thighs, your breath hitching as you looked at his open lips, his own breath stuck in his lungs and released only when he pulled you towards him. 

You bit your lower lip, feeling his mouth on your stomach, and then you let your head fall back as his fingers trailed your sides, lifting your top until reaching your breasts. You lifted your arms and Jaehyun stood for a moment to help the fabric away from your limbs and before you could kiss him, he sat down, with your between his knees, and unclipped your bra. You gulped, helping yourself stand by placing your hands on his wide and firm shoulders. 

“This is so inappropriate,” you whispered, muffling a whine as Jaehyun kneaded your soft breasts, looking at the skin fill the gaps between his fingers. 

“Yeah? Is being naked like this in front of me making your sweet pussy achy and wet?” Jaehyun’s deep voice made your stomach shiver as he spoke on your skin, trailing open wet kisses down your navel.

You were about to reply, your hazy brain still able to formulate some snarky comment, but when his hands cupped your ass, and one slid to your thigh to lift it on his shoulder, your hearing flatlined. You felt your underwear being pushed to the side and his luscious tongue making you gasp. 

“Jaehyun-” you felt your legs suddenly wobbly and his grip on your body tightened, his mouth licking and sucking at your clit making you grab his perfectly coiffed hair and pull. 

His groan travelled inside of you and his blunt nails dug into your soft skin before he let you go, sporting shining lips and heavy breath. 

He didn’t speak, and he only grinned as he sat back on the couch, his arrogant face making you quiver almost as much as his tongue inside of you. He patted his lap. 

You scoffed trying to hide a laugh but before you could roll your eyes at him, his hands were on your waist, making you sit flush against him. 

“If you dare to roll your eyes at me, I’ll give you a real reason to do that,” he murmured against your lips. 

You kissed him, deeply and messily, grabbing the short hairs at his nape with one hands, and cupping his balls with the other, making him hiss. 

“Oh yeah?” you whispered back, massaging him through the tight dress pants he was wearing. 

His adam apple bobbed in his throat but his eyes shone with mischief. He nodded, not for one second intimidated. It infuriated you. 

So you undid his button and slid his zip down, feeling the wetness of his precum adorning his expensive boxers. 

“And yet, look who made a mess,” you cooed, sliding your hand underneath the elastic band and making him close his eyes and extend his neck back. 

“God,” he groaned. 

He was long and thick, his skin velvety and soft, hot with need. You jerked him with your hand slowly, swallowing at the thought of having him inside of you, splitting you apart. 

Maybe you made a sound, or maybe he saw your expression as you opened his eyes but he smiled faintly. 

“Come on, end this torture. You want me as badly as I want you, chief engineer,” he said. And you would have had another ounce of brat in you if only he didn’t say the following things. Just one word, and it made you dizzy with desire.

“Please,” he murmured. 

Your hand shook as you felt his bigger one on top of yours, directing his pretty cock towards your aching core. You let it go and Jaehyun aligned himself, lifting his gaze with a heavy breath to see your lustful expression as you sat on it slowly. 

You both exhaled, his deep growl and your higher pitched breathy sound, until you reached the base, his girth making you see stars. 

“Good girl, take it all,” he breathed out, letting you adjust. 

“Fuck, Jaehyun-” you gulped, feeling your skin hot, as you lifted yourself once before sinking deep down again. 

He hissed, “I know, baby, I know.”

The petname worked as a spell, throwing you into a fast haze, riding his cock as deep as you could. Jaehyun wrapped one arm around your waist, while the other hand raised to shove his fingers inside your mouth. 

“I’d love for the whole company to hear how good my cock makes you feel, pretty girl, but we don’t want a call from HR, do we?” 

You gagged on them at first, then sucked, trying to turn down the noises you didn’t even realize you were making. 

And when your movements became sloppy and you felt on the verge of losing your mind, Jaehyun’s hips snapped, thrusting up inside of you and making you fist his pristine shirt. 

“That’s it, baby, take it like a good girl.” 

You let go of Jaehyun’s fingers to whine, but then you choked again as his wet hand warmly grabbed your throat instead, making you steady yourself on his wrist instead. 

“Fuck, just like that,” he pulled your body even closer to himself, squeezing your breasts against his expensive wristwatch. It would probably leave a bruise and for some reason the thought of being marked by Jaehyun made you quiver on his cock so hard that with a few deep thrusts you came undone, shaking in his arms and calling his name again and again and again. 

Jaehyun’s warm breath tickled your face and his muscles were pumped with tension as he forced his hips to still, feeling your clenching walls tighten around him rhythmically. 

“Baby, I need to cum or I’ll pop a fucking vein,” he chuckled breathlessly, the hand previously on your throat cupping your face instead. 

“Then cum inside of me,” you replied, ears still ringing from the raging orgasm. 

Jaehyun groaned and snapped, drilling into you so fast that you didn’t have enough force to fully oxygenize your lungs, his arms tightly around your soft body and his face buried in the crook of your neck. 

The sounds were dirty, the tall windows of the small office were getting foggy, and you wondered how long you’ve been fucking like rabbits over your lunch break when Jaehyun’s hips stilled, lifted ever so slightly from the couch, deep inside of you, and you felt on the verge of another orgasm seeing him dig his fingers into your flesh. 

“Fuck-” he exhaled, and you bit your lower lip, whimpering as you felt his spurts of cum coating your insides. Then his hips moved again, prolonging his high as much as he could, the vein on his forehead showing you just how much blood was pumping inside of him. 

You’ve never felt like that and you’ve never seen him lose control just as much as you did. 

“Jaehyun- I think I’ll-” you pressed your palms into his hard chest and he rested back on the couch, looking at your with dark eyes and plump lips. 

“Give me another one, beautiful,” he murmured, his cock sliding out of your and his fingers collecting the cum before shoving it back inside. 

“Shit-” you closed your eyes, losing yourself in the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of you and your spine curved making you bite your lower lip until almost tasting blood when he added his other hand, rubbing your sensitive clit. 

“I can’t-” you mumbled, “I can’t- please-”

“Yes, baby, cum all over my hands,” he urged, his gaze never leaving your face as if bewitched. 

And you did. 

────────────

You were grateful for Jaehyun not abandoning you in the office’s bathroom alone to clean up the mess you asked for but the one he did. 

“You know I can technically use my cock to take the cum out,” he tried again outside the door. 

You rolled your eyes amused. “I said, no thanks, I got it.”

“The tip is anatomically made so that a man is able to take out the cum a previous man-” he started to ramble but his words were cut off when you opened the door. He blinked staring at you and you noticed his ears were a dusty pink. 

“Do you always share fizzy drinks bottle cups facts when embarrassed?” you finished adjusting your clothes. 

He cleared his voice. “Do you think there would be sex facts on the cups of fizzy drinks? Also, why would I be embarrassed?” 

You crossed your arms on your chest for a moment, taking him in. 

“Do you perhaps have a little crush on me, Jung Jaehyun?” 

He scoffed, putting his hands in his pockets. “No.” 

You expected him to say that but the sudden confidence threw you off. 

He leaned in. “It’s not a small crush. I thought it was obvious.” 

He then straightened his back and opened the office door. “Come on, chief, I think we might get a call from HR anyway because we had a 3 hour long lunch.” 

You shook your head, trying to conceal the little giggle your body apparently wanted to let out. 

“You have too much faith in your skills. We went at it for like 15 minutes at best.” 

Jaehyun stopped in place and turned around slowly. 

You stopped too. 

And when he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder, giving your ass a good spank, the yell and laugh that escaped you was probably heard in the whole company. 

[drak3n]

PARAMEDIC!SUGURU

CONTENT WARNINGS: fluff, smut, strangers to lovers trope, reader passes out, ambulances, sutures, blood, soft!suguru

sena’s note: i’m so down bad for jjk men i don’t have any words… i’m tweaking rn just thinking about suguru in paramedic gear—

MINI-SERIES MASTERLIST

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who was just about to call it a night with his coworker and drive back to the fire station to be relieved by the night shift, but held back a groan when a call came in

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who was told that a lady in her twenties had passed out and hit her head while at work, and who forgot all about after hours as his colleague drove towards the workplace at full speed with blasting sirens

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who rushed inside the building of the given address — a restaurant — with his colleague, paramedic backpack draped over his shoulder to be fetched by the shift supervisor who had made the call

“i don’t know how it happened... she was prepping in the back along with another worker and i suddenly heard clattering. when i checked, she was passed out and bleeding all over the floor.”

suguru’s amber eyes narrowed at the way the man explained the situation, and he left it to his colleague to register the workplace’s and your data while he entered the back to see you seated on a chair, weakly holding a cloth against your profusely bleeding forehead.

“ma’am, i’m here to help. may i check?” his voice was mellow and smooth, and you lowered your shaking arm to let his gloved hand check beneath the cloth. you were barely able to sit, yet, you looked at your coworker with exhausted eyes. “i’m okay... why did you call the ambulance…? he’s probably mad now.”

“you’ll need stitches for that wound,” he informed you, which made you sigh shakily as you gazed up at the tall man. all you saw was a blurred, tall silhouette wearing a vibrant, red uniform that stung your eyes, and a bun of dark, long hair. “my colleague will be here with a stretcher. could you look at me for a quick second?”

long, gloved fingers gently lifted your chin to check your pupillary response with an ophthalmoscope, discovering that your pupils were unusually dilated. high chance of a concussion. when you heard a stretcher rolling inside the room, you let out a confused hum.

“i—i can walk,” you slurred, accompanied by the supervisor also annoyingly confirming that there was no need for the stretcher. suguru quirked a brow at your supervisor, beckoning his colleague closer with the stretcher.

“there absolutely is a need for that,” he countered, “now kindly back away, sir.” his tone was warning, and the older man hesitantly stepped away while the two paramedics lifted you off the chair carefully to lay you down on the stretcher, securing you as you gazed up with blank, confused eyes.

geto stayed in the back with you during the drive to the hospital, and he made sure to check your vitals and ask you questions to make out the severity of your concussion and to see how well you responded.

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who found it endearing that you insisted for him to hold your hand throughout the ride because you had never been in an ambulance and it was scary and cold

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU whose eyes didn’t leave your form until you were brought into a treatment room, barely able to let go of your hand

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who only noticed at the fire station after clearing out the ambulance that there was a silver necklace with your initial in a corner, a necklace he was sure he had seen on you before you were transferred into the ambulance

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who despite having just gotten off an excruciating 12-hour shift and wanting to have nothing more to do with hospitals for the day, found himself heading back towards the hospital you’d been delivered to

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who saw you sitting in the hallway, waiting for your CT scans with a bandage around your treated head, and who approached you in civilian attire

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who returned the necklace to you and helped you put it on, waiting for your results with you while you were still quizzed as to why he was with you, still clearly confused

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who drove you home because you had no one to pick you up, and who accompanied you all the way to your door; who didn’t leave without taking your number to check on you

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who really did check in with you very frequently until you were feeling better again, and who was positively surprised to see you at the same hospital again a week later to get your stitches removed

“does this scar make me look goofy? be honest.”

suguru took your hand to stop you from touching the scarred and still sensitive tissue, giving you a soft smile. “no, it just puts a little badass in your adorable self,” he chuckled. your eyes went wide as you looked away bashfully.

“are you off work now?” suguru tilted his head down to look at you, you wouldn’t meet his eyes. cute. “i am. just need to head back to the station and get changed. why?”

“i’m really hungry. you wanna grab food?”

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who never failed to kiss the scar on your forehead, grazing his fingertips against the imperfectly perfect feature on your face, and who got heart eyes whenever you shyly showed him how much you love him

➩ PARAMEDIC!SUGURU who always subconsciously shielded your head from possible danger; who covered your head with his hand while opening cupboards close to you, or who always covered the edge of a table with his palm when you bent over to pick something up; and who despite being so caring, couldn’t help but poke a little fun at you

“you okay like this, angel?” a shuddered whimper left your lips as you got settled on top of your tall, handsome boyfriend who was laid on his back. plush thighs straddling his sides, you relished in the feeling of him inside of you.

he didn’t move an inch. all he did was stare into your eyes and cradle your face in his warm hands. all you wanted was to show suguru that you were a big girl, that you could take it, that you were—

“i—it’s—,” you moaned into his hand, your own clammy palms shooting forward to clutch at his toned stomach, “y—you’re so mean, sugu! you promised not to move!” his long strands of jet black hair bounced when he chuckled heartily. he couldn’t help it.

“i can’t help it when i’m inside the prettiest girl in the world,” he mumbled against your lips, capturing your lips in a greedy kiss that swallowed your moans. “want me to take over? all you have to do is ask.”

your begging eyes were enough for him to flip you over.

tagged: @melancholia-k @tansyfleurwhisper

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddie-spooktober day 17: hayride | T | wc: 1,306

tags: strangers to lovers, confident eddie munson, farmhand eddie munson, pickup lines, getting together

“Alright folks, watch your step getting off– lemme help you down, ma’am, there you go–last ride of the night! Who’s gettin’ on?” 

The man finishes off his speech and looks around at the designated ride loading area, “Just you then sir?”

Steve casts a look around for the man the driver (in an extremely well-fitting cowboy getup and dark leather hat too) must be talking to, ready to hold up his own hand to indicate to Hot Cowboy that the other man is not, in fact, alone for the ride.

But there’s no other man.

Steve is the ‘Sir’ in question.

Oh god.

“Oh god,” Steve echoes aloud, “I didn’t realize I was the only one, please, no need to bother with a last ride, I’m sure you want to get home too.”

Hot Cowboy looks down at him from the driver’s seat (does the bench of a hay cart have a driver’s seat?), then around at the lack of other people.

“Would you like a ride?”

Surely he didn’t mean it that way, but Steve’s cheeks flush a bit nonetheless, “Well I do, but—”

“Then hop aboard, stranger, only a bit of sun left in the day.”

Steve suddenly can’t tell if the accent is just for show or not.

“No, really, I’ll come back another day,” he says, backing away, “I just wanted to go today since it’s my birth– nevermind, I’m not going to hold you up for just me.”

“How ‘bout this, you get on, and I’ll drive us and the lovebirds here to the barn.” he says, gesturing to the two horses hitched to the cart, an all black, and a sandy sort of brown one. “Short, sweet, everyone gets what they want.”

Steve blinks, “That’s uh.. Yeah. Okay.”

Hot Cowboy grins at him, happy where Steve thought there’d be annoyance. “Great! C’mon in then, the hay’s great!”

“You sure? I think it’s gonna be pokey and itchy.�� Steve jokes nervously, climbing the stationary steps up to the cart.

This orchard’s hay rides are a bit different than others Steve’s been to in his life; there were no bales of hay, just a large (slightly trodden now) pile of hay in the back of an ancient-looking cart.

“Promise. Now lay back and get comfy big boy, we got a bit of a ride to the barn.”

Steve did as he was told, all the while Hot Cowboy watched him carefully step into the cart.

Once he was in and settled back so he was reclined against the pile of hay, facing back off the open end of the cart, Hot Cowboy clicked his tongue, snapped the reins, and they were off.

Almost immediately the soft rocking and teetering of the cart lulled him calmer. The wear the day had taken on him, extra annoying since it was piled on when he’d been trying to take a half day for his birthday, seeping deeper into his bones with every squeak of a wheel.

There was a shift of clothes, then: “Long day, huh?”

“Hm?” Steve opened his eyes again, not really knowing when he’d closed them in the first place, “Oh, yeah.. lots piled onto me unexpectedly.” He shrugged, not knowing if Hot Cowboy was even still looking back at him to see, “It happens.”

The other man hummed an agreement, and for a while, It was quiet. Steve stared drowsily up at the ever-purpling sky above him, cut over every now and again by the thin bare branches of the trees on either side of their path, and counted the stars as they appeared.

Every once in a while, Hot Cowboy would let out a short, low whistle, or a hushed, “Hey!”, or “Quit nipping at him, Sandy!” to the horses.

After a whole, surprisingly bright, thirteen stars made their appearance, Hot Cowboy again spoke to him. “So, no other plans for your birthday than to come hang out with lil’ ol’ me?”

Steve tipped his head backward and half into the pile of hay to look upside down at the back of the other man. And only now realizing he had a long, dark braid tied out under the back of his hat.

”How’d you know it was my birthday?”

”You started to say so earlier,” he says, glancing back at Steve with a smile. He looks back to the path, “No wife or girlfriend to spend it with?”

Smooth. Steve thinks, smiling to himself, then says “My best friend and I are doing Late Birthday when she comes back from a work trip in a couple days, but other than that, you’re it, partner.”

Hot Cowboy snorts a laugh at Steve’s admittedly very bad accent, then, just to tease the cowpoke, Steve says, “And no boyfriend either.”

Another snort, “Good to know, sweetheart.”

They lapse into silence again, and next thing he knows, someone is nudging his shoulder.

Steve snaps upright, jackknifing his butt deeper into the hay under him. It’s much darker now, and as his eyes adjust, he realizes they’re in the barn already.

"Hey, whoa, sorry to wake you.” He looks over to the voice, Hot Cowboy is looking at him concerned. His hat gone, his hair loose now, “You okay?”

“Yeah.. yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that.” Steve says, rubbing his eyes then instinctively running his fingers through his hair for any stray strands of straw.

”No worries sweetheart,” The accent was for show after all, it seems, since it was gone enough to be noticeable when he continues on to say “D’ya need a hand?”

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” Steve reaches for his hand, off to the side of the cart, which Hot cowboy grabs and uses as leverage to swing a leg over the side and straddle the low wall.

For some unknown reason, that’s the thing that Did It for Steve.

The smoothness of the motion, the tight squeak of the denim as he sits and his leg stretches beneath the fabric, the solid clump the heel of his boot makes when it makes contact with the cart bed…. no matter which it was, his sudden desire for this dusty, probably sweaty, stranger gets the better of him and Steve hauls Hot Cowboy toward him instead. He lands on Steve with an “Oomph!” and a quickly brightening face only a hair's breadth away from his.

“Care to go for a roll in the hay?” Steve asks in a low tone, nudging Hot Cowboy’s nose gently with his own.

Two seconds pass, each one seeming to take only a fraction of itself and an eon to pass before Steve is trying his damndest to squirm away, apologizing profusely as he does.

”Oh my god, oh my god! I am so so sorry, holy shit, I don’t know what came over me I—“

Hot Cowboy’s fingers press against his lips, cutting off the flow of apologies.

”Let me process for a moment, Jesus H. Christ.” Another four of five eons pass, the other man’s face slowly draining of it’s excess color before: “As much as I want to say yes, and believe me, I want, I’d rather not traumatize my Uncle’s horses..”

Oh my god this is his farm. His Uncle’s farm. Fresh hot embarrassment floods into Steve’s face and gullet.

Hot Cowboy notices the change and smiles, “How ’bout this big boy, you tell me your name, I tell you mine, then we find convenient excuses to make out all the way back to your car. Sound like a plan?”

Steve nods vigorously and Hot Cowboy removes his fingers. ”I’m Steve.” he blurts as soon as they’ve gone.

Hot Cowboy grins lopsidedly at him, putting the accent on again to say, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Stevie. The name’s Eddie, but you can call me the man of your dreams.”

like almost always, graphics are from @saradika-graphics!

[gogogodzilla]

✧ 𝔻𝕒𝕪 𝟙𝟠: 𝐵𝑜𝑑𝑦𝑔𝑢𝑎𝑟𝑑 ✧ 

【𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑂𝑛 𝐴𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑙 】

╰› 〖 𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠 〗: If there's one thing for certain about Arthur Morgan, he's going to take more than what he's paid for

╰› 〖 𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 〗: nsfw 18+, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, infidelity (reader cheats on their husband w/ arthur), medium/low honor arthur

✧ 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑡𝑜𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑚.𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ✧ 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑜3 ✧ 𝑤𝑎𝑡𝑡𝑝𝑎𝑑 ✧

The noise of the party drifted up the stairs and filtered into your bedchamber. Not that you were paying it much mind, but it proved to be effective in covering up the sounds of furniture scraping across the wooden floors. 

You’d been lucky enough that your husband was drunk enough to not notice your disappearance, but you knew the clock was working against you. Each rut of Arthur’s hips against yours brought you closer and closer to ecstasy. The air was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against slick skin and Arthur’s soft grunts. 

You wondered how your plan could have gone so wrong yet so right. The party was meant to be a distraction— something to cover up the sounds of you leaving this damned marriage far behind you. Your packed bag still stood neatly by the bedroom window, and it consumed your gaze from your bent-over position on your bed. 

It was the same bed you’d shared with your husband for years now. He was a rich man, and the perfect match in your parents’ eyes. You were content, for a while. However, contentedness could only take you so far, and you quickly grew bitter, exhausted of tumbling into the same routine day after agonizing day. 

You’d nearly jumped for joy the day Arthur Morgan came into your life. It was a warm summer night, and the bones of your corset dug into your ribs as you watched over the main hall as people filed in for your husband’s monthly card game. It was mostly a chance for him to flaunt his wealth and take even more money from those who could afford to lose it. 

Your husband sauntered over to you and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek as a greeting. Your eyes drifted to the man lingering behind him. His hat hung low and his eyes piercing blue eyes scanned the hall. He was rugged, with an air of quiet intensity that made you want to avoid his gaze. He looked as solid as the old oak tree in your backyard, and your eyes trailed over his broad shoulders. His hulking appearance contrasted sharply with the lavish furnishings of your great hall— the deep red leather of his vest blending in with the black cotton of his shirt, and the dark leather of his boots caked in a fine layer of dust. 

“My love, I’d like you to meet Arthur Morgan. He’s going to be watching over you tonight while I entertain our guests,” your husband said, his voice casual.

He was mentioning the last time you’d attempted to escape. You’d been too eager and didn’t wait until your husband was too inebriated to wonder where his darling partner had run off to. You wouldn’t make that mistake again. 

Arthur took his hat off, revealing tousled dark blonde hair that fell messily around his brow. Your heart nearly skipped a beat as those blue eyes of his caught yours— sharp and clear with an edge of caution. 

“Ma’am,” Arthur said with a slight bow of his head, his voice low and gravelly. His politeness was clumsy, almost as if he wasn’t used to formalities. 

You curtsied in response, dipping low just like you were taught. 

Your husband smiled, “Arthur, here, is the best money can buy.” He then turned to face Arthur and took your hand in his. “My wife here likes to wander, Mr. Morgan. I trust you’ll keep a close eye on her,” your husband said as his hand squeezed yours. 

Arthur’s eyes scanned over your form, and you suddenly felt vulnerable under his scrutinizing gaze. He crossed his arms, and you couldn’t help but notice how his muscles strained under his shirt. 

“Yes, sir,” Arthur answered, his gaze remaining glued to yours, “they won’t get far.” 

Arthur had kept his promise. You’d nearly jumped out of your skin as he grabbed your bicep and turned you around to face him. Your suitcase was clutched tightly in your hand and the window was cracked open enough for you to slip through. You’d removed the frilly dress you’d donned earlier and opted for something more inconspicuous. 

He tsked his tongue as he loomed over you, a smirk working its way onto his features. You hadn’t even heard him come in. 

“What do we have here?” he questioned. You shrunk slightly in front of him, trembling. “This big house and everything you could ever want not enough for you?”

“I didn’t want this,” you spat, attempting to wrench yourself out of his grasp. 

He chuckled, tightening his grip on your arm, “And what is it you do want, hm?” 

“Something more,” you murmured as your heart raced in your chest. 

He was quiet for a moment as he looked down at you. He tugged your suitcase out of your hand and set it next to the window.  

“Is he bad to you?” Arthur questioned, his voice husky and low. 

You shook your head, your cheeks flaring. It seemed imprudent to leave this privileged life you lived, but your heart yearned for more. 

“Is he,” Arthur paused, his eyes flickering to your bed before meeting yours. “Is he good to you?” 

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “I’m not… satisfied.” 

A slow, roguish grin formed on Athur’s lips. “I can fix that.” 

The next few moments were a clash of teeth and lips as Arthur pulled you closer, wrapping his strong arms tightly around you. His lips moved fervently against yours, and you’d never felt need like that course through you. Your entire being hummed with desperation as he touched you, his calloused hands grabbing and kneading whatever he could reach of your soft skin. 

You moaned against his lips as he pulled the skirts of your dress up and ran a hand over your thigh before moving upward to caress your clothed heat. You leaned your head back as he teased you through your undergarments. 

“Think you can be quiet while I show you what a real man feels like?” he questioned low against the shell of your ear. 

You nodded your head quickly, too focused on what his hands were doing under your dress to forge a proper reply. 

“Good girl,” he grunted, and it sent a jolt straight to your core. 

You let out a squeal as Arthur bent down and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder. His grip was firm on the back of your thighs as he made his way toward your bed. 

He threw you onto your bed and flipped you over, maneuvering your body like it was nothing. He grabbed your hands and pinned them behind your back. “Keep ‘em there, darlin’,” he ordered as he let them go. You obediently stayed put as your heart pounded in your chest. 

His hands roamed over the plush of your ass as he hovered over you. “Pretty little thing with a man who can’t please her,” he hummed as his hands trailed up your sides. 

He pulled your hips up so your ass was in the air and he kneaded the flesh there. He slid a hand up your calf and then under your dress once more. He lifted your skirts up and over your hips. He dragged his thumb over your clothed core before tangling his fingers in your undergarments and ripping a hole in them, leaving you bare before him. 

He slid a finger through your folds, and you arched your back, preening into his touch. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, stifling a moan as he dipped his finger down to tease your entrance. 

The clinking of his gun belt being undone was music to your ears, and you pressed your core against him, whining as the rough denim jeans rubbed against your core. You rested your cheek against the mattress as he freed his weeping cock from his jeans. He stroked it once and then twice before gliding it through your folds, eliciting a breathy moan from you. He gripped the plumpness of your ass as he ground against you, hitting your clit with every drag of his hips. 

He leaned down so his chest was flush against your back. “Such a dirty girl,” he purred, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear, “begging me to fuck you while your husband’s downstairs none the wiser.” 

You whimpered at his words, which went straight to your core, as he teased you. He didn’t give you enough time to answer before he was agonizingly pushing inside you. You groaned at the way he stretched you, and you relished the way he alighted feelings you never knew were possible. 

He nudged your knees further apart, opening yourself up to him further as he began rocking his hips against you. He placed a firm hand on your lower back, keeping you still as his pace increased. 

Each rut of Arthur’s hips against yours brought you closer and closer to ecstasy. The air was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against slick skin and Arthur’s soft grunts. 

You let out a high-pitched mewl as he reached a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, and he leaned forward to cover your mouth with one of his hands. 

He reached his free hand around you to rub harsh circles against your clit. His pace was brutal, but you savored every second of it. You let out a breathy moan against his hand, and shoved your hips back against his, matching his pace. 

With one final stroke of his cock, you were coming undone over his cock. Your pussy gripped him in a vice grip as you rode out your high, and Arthur’s hips stuttered against your own. He came with a strangled groan as his release painted your walls. His cock twitched inside you as he came down from his high, and his hips slowed. 

Within a few moments, he was pulling out of you. You whined at the loss, and he watched as his cum oozed out of you, dripping over your folds. Arthur groaned at the sight. 

You rolled onto your back and looked up at him. He ran a gentle hand over your thigh. 

“Still thinking about leaving?” he questioned.

You shrugged, “I don’t know, are you gonna catch me again?” 

“I’ll give you a five-minute head start this time.”

[pinguwrites]

𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔' 𝑺𝒚𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆 ⸻ Chapter One

series masterlist. next chapter

𝒑𝙖𝒊𝙧𝒊𝙣𝒈 | francis mosses x reader

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 1.5k

Warnings: none

A/N: I promise it'll get more exciting later lol

The elevator dinged, and your heart raced. It was dark out, and so the lobby was dimmed — that blue hue that came right before the sun’s rising. After peeking a small look to the side, you quickly went back to the newspaper you were reading, as if you hadn’t noticed the sound at all. Though you didn’t need to hear or see to know who it was. No one else in Sama Place got up this early, except perhaps for you. It was you and Francis Mosses, every day alone at five in the morning. Perfect, wasn’t it?

“Mornin’,” he said, tipping his hat slightly. It was white, with the words “MILKMAN” etched onto the front. If anything, that added detail made him look even more handsome — uniformed, well-put-together, with just a hint of authority. Everything you liked. 

“Good morning, Francis,” you greeted, resting your elbows on the desk in front of you. Placing the newspaper aside, you focused your attention on him, but when he approached you, he took it between his fingers and flipped to the page you were at. 

“Crossword? It’s a bit early for that,” he mused, eyeing all the columns and rows you filled in. It was a hard one, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Besides, what else were you supposed to do, stare at the wall waiting to say ‘hi’ to the next person who came by?

“I like puzzles, they get me thinking . . . you know, you should do something like this, too.” Francis furrowed his eyebrows, just slightly. “Not puzzles, necessarily. But a hobby.”

It just occurred to you at this very moment that he probably did have a hobby, but as someone who was just a doorwoman, you weren't privy to that information.

“I’m sure you do,” you added with a chuckle. “It’s only that I never see you doing anything but work. You’re so tired all the time. How much effort does being a milkman really require?”

He bit his lower lip. “More than you think. I used to get up at one.”

The idea that whatever company he was working for forced him to do this made you upset. Francis deserved nothing but freedom and long vacations and waking up to brunch, not whatever coffee he drank in the morning to get himself going. 

“One?” you repeated, absolutely stunned. “Well, I’m glad you managed to change your shift. Most bosses I know aren’t flexible with that sort of stuff.”

“I was actually doing fine with my original hours. I just changed them because . . .”

“Because what?”

He thought for a moment, his cheeks dusted pink. “Wanted to enjoy the world a little. Can’t very well do that if you have to sleep at seven in the afternoon.” He paused. “I have to go, I’ll see you later tonight, ma’am.”

“Alright. Have a nice day, sir.”

You watched as he left, a longing gaze. In your mind, you imagined spending time with him, whether it be to see a movie or just walk around the city. You found that highly unlikely, though. Mostly because you could never bring yourself to ask him, and never thought he would ever ask you. 

+++

“Really?” you said, a little disappointed. “I’d hate to see you go.”

Dr. William Afton shrugged, a grin across his lips. “I mean, it’s quite the modern idea, don’t you think? I think there ought to be more family restaurants out there. And with my engineering background, I think I’m just the right man to create something fun for children.”

“Your idea sounds like a science fiction novel,” you admitted, “but I like it. What does Mia think?”

“Oh, I had to convince her a little, but in the end, she’ll do as I say. Besides, we’re not moving very far. Just closer to the suburbs.”

You nodded. “I’ll miss you. Make sure to stop by again when you can.”

He agreed and went on his way to finish moving the rest of his belongings to his car. It was silly to want him to stay, but that was how it felt here. Everyone knew everyone, it was like a family. You’d made more friends here than you ever did before. Change wasn’t something you enjoyed.

+++

The day had passed by quickly. You took your lunch break and then went straight back to work. You made a few calls to make sure things were in order. If anything was wrong with the plumbing or if the wallpaper had chipped — things like that — it was your responsibility to fix it. Taking calls for potential renters, being in general a polite and pleasant person, it all came with your job. 

It was unusual for a woman to hold this kind of position. Women barely worked at all. Most were housewives or teachers or secretaries. The fact that you even got this job at all was a miracle. And the fact that the people in this building were so pleasant was a blessing.

After your father died you thought everything was over. He left you a house, a small, one-story building with a nice lawn and a small backyard. It was closed off from the rest of the street, the way he liked it. Away from others, with his own peace. You supposed that trait passed down to you. Other than a simple conversation, you preferred to be by yourself rather than out with a large group of friends, partying at risqué clubs. Besides, even if you liked that kind of stuff, your father would never have approved. 

You were dependent on him, right till the very end. Though you graduated from college, you didn’t know how to get a loan from a bank, drive a car, or even do your taxes. The easiest thing to do was to find a husband, but it was just so difficult. When you saw that sign outside of Sama saying ‘HIRING NOW’ you knew that was where you had to go. A new start. New opportunity. For the first time, you could make your own money, support yourself, and live the life you want.

You sighed, thinking about everything as you leaned back in your chair. The weather was hot today, so you set the fan beside your desk on. It was blowing through your hair, the coolness brushing against your skin with relief. It made your skirt rumple at the ends, but whenever it did that you just straightened it out, pulling it over your knees once more. 

“Hey,” a voice said behind you. 

Startled, you sat up straight, only to realize it was just Anastacha, the girl from the second floor. She lived with her mom, who was a cook at a restaurant, but apparently trying to make it as a chef. She had pigtails in her hair like always and was wearing a simple plaid dress. 

“You scared me,” you said, tone both playful and scolding. “Don’t do that again.”

“Sorry,” she apologized, but she didn’t seem very sorry. “I need help with my homework. Mom says you had a good education, and that if I ever needed help I could just come to you.”

You smiled warmly. “Sure. Pull up that chair over there, and I’ll see what I can do.”

You looked through the folder. It was just basic algebra, nothing too difficult. You remembered doing this in middle school. For the next ten minutes, you both read through each problem and solved it together. She had a lot of questions — annoying ones — but it was fine. She was just a kid, and you were happy to help.

Just as you were explaining the last part to her, the front door opened. 

It was Francis. 

Distracted, you glanced up and down his body. Was it odd that you found him the most beautiful man ever? His long, Roman nose, and his smooth, pale skin. The way the veins in his hands flexed every time he moved them, the light blue dress shirt that hugged his slim, muscled arms, and that dark, tousled hair, widow’s peak dipped in the middle of his forehead.

He passed by you with a short nod. It almost hurt that he didn’t bother to stay longer, but you could see the bags under his eyes and his sluggish movements. He was tired. And to be fair, so were you.

When the elevator door closed, Anastacha exclaimed, “Oh, he likes you!”

“Shh!” You didn’t need people hearing that. “He does not. Do you want to finish this or not?”

“He does,” she insisted with a giggle. “You saw the way he looked at you?”

“You can’t determine things based on a single look.”

“Yes, I can. Mr. Mosses is nice, but he kind of just ignores everyone. He doesn’t do that with you.”

The thought that Francis may like you was an intoxicating one. He was just a man, one that you never exchanged many words with, yet he managed to make you feel all sorts of ways. Was it possible that Anastacha was right? That he really did like you?

“I bet you like him, too.”

You glared at her. You did not need Anastacha spreading rumors about how you were in love with the milkman, however true that may be.

“No, I don’t. Focus.” You pointed the pencil back at her homework. “Now, in order to find x, you have to subtract . . . . . .”

Taglist: @Meetmeatyourworst @hanawrites404 @Emimurphy2008

[flawdchaos]

Opposites Do Attract

Gale ‘Buck’ Cleven x Reader

Word Count - 915

Based off of this request - Can I request a Buck x reader, where the reader is very extroverted, maybe even the opposite of Buck, but they fit so well together. They could be going out for drinks or her meeting the boys or something similar.

Anyone who met Buck Cleven and Y/N Y/L/N at Thorpe Abbotts shared a common thought - they were an unexpected pair. It had become all too common for the newcomers to assume Y/N was with Bucky with her loud, bubbly energy and it almost seemed brash for cool, calm, collected Buck to be with Ken Lemmons loudest female mechanic but damn, did it work. They had met one morning as Y/N was going over some last minute inspections on Buck’s plane for his daily missions.

“How’s she looking, ma’am?” his voice startled her, her head hitting against the plane’s metal.

“Good lord!” she exclaimed. “Give a girl a warning before you sneak up like that.” she complained, rubbing the back of her head. She fully stepped from under the plane's wings and caught a glimpse of the man behind the voice. Her eyes widened once she noticed a Major was standing before her awaiting her response. “Major Cleven” right hand flying to her forehead to salute “Plane is all ready, sir.”

“No need to salute, ma’am. Thank you for taking such good care of her. I put her through hell.” Buck spoke as he opened the plane’s hatch to stow his bag and she couldn’t stop the scoff that left her mouth. “I think that’s an understatement, sir.”

Most of the guys probably wouldn’t have taken this kind of attitude, per se, from a mechanic - let alone a woman- but he couldn’t care less. The sight of her almost made him want to laugh. There she stood, hip jutted out and hand secured atop it, eyes squinting up at him most likely awaiting some sort of angry remark but all he could do was shuffle the toothpick around in his mouth and nod in agreement. “I’ll be waiting to fix her right back up for ya later, Major.”

The couple had been sealed since. When Buck finally caved and spilled the beans about a woman to Bucky, he thought John was going to have a medical emergency right there in the mess hall.

“You have a woman and you just now think to bring it up?” Bucky said, astonished. “I didn’t want you to scare her away.” Buck quipped. If he only knew.

“Well.” Bucky clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder. “When am I gonna meet this mysterious young lady?” he urged, squeezing his hands down before an idea crossed his mind “Bring her to the pub tomorrow!”

______

If Buck could have taken a picture of the looks on the boys’ faces when he walked in with Y/N on his arm, he would have framed it and taken it with him on every flight he ventured out on. “Well I’ll be damned, Buck.” Bucky uttered, for once in his life he was almost speechless. Almost.

“I’d suggest you pick your jaw up off the floor, Major. I’d sure hate for you to swallow a bug.” She teased and the entire table erupted in laughter. Buck couldn’t help the small smile that broke out on his own face, a sense of pride soaring through his body. Bucky took a long swig of his drink before retorting. “Seems you’ve got yourself a jokester, Buck.” He nodded. “She’s a little more than that.”

“Wait, ain’t you the girl who works with Lemmons?” Blakely spoke, realization washing over the faces of a few of the men. “Yeah! You’re the girl who fixed my landing gear the other day.” Brady sat up, pointing at the girl standing firm besides Buck.

“You’re welcome by the way.” she waved her hand towards him. “Actually, everyone is welcome. You can thank me for getting you up in the air in the first place. Now I’m getting a drink. Keep the gossip to a minimum while I’m gone, now.” She turned, patting Buck on the chest. “You want something, baby?” looking up at her doe eyed boyfriend. “Just a Coke for me, honey.” She jokingly saluted, walking off towards the bar.

____

Buck had full confidence Y/N would fit in with his crew of men. Whether most of them had realized it before or not, she was the sole reason they were able to make it off the ground in the first place. He couldn’t help but say it almost made his heart swell with pride watching her interact with his friends. “Should I sing?” Bucky’s voice broke through his train of thought, hands tapping against his arm chair. There wasn’t time for him to protest before Y/N jumped up from her place on his lap. “Let’s go, Bucky!” Y/N’s laughed.

He couldn’t explain the feeling that was coursing through his body but as he watched his best friend - more so a brother at this point - and his newfound love sharing a laugh together over the less than perfect singing, he only grew more confident in his relationship. Many would describe Buck Cleven as a many of very little words but if anyone asked about Y/N, his Y/N, he didn’t think there were enough words in the dictionary to explain just how he felt.

Once the song stopped and the singing duo had left the stage, Buck watched as Y/N headed to the bar and Bucky made his way back to him.

“Buck, I gotta say -“ pausing to take a drink of his whisky. “You’ve found yourself a keeper. You two couldn’t be any more opposite but man, does it work.”

[blindmagdalena]

The Cuckoo's Nest

18+ 6.3k siren!homelander x f!reader. dub/noncon, infidelity, mind/emotional manipulation, gaslighting, voice kink, masturbation, penetrative sex, fingering, blood, gore, cannibalism? creampie, stalking, minor character death, praise kink, good girl/pretty girl.

The gentle and pleasing voice of the cuckoo bird has made it a renowned herald of spring, and perhaps one of the most famous of songbirds. One would never guess merely by looking at it that it is a predatory parasite.

What you thought would be a dream job working for Vought as Homelander's very own secretary turns into a surreal waking nightmare as reality and dreams converge in a confusing mess. The only coherent thread that strings it all together is the alluring pull of Homelander's unnatural voice.

written for Monsterlander Mania. fair warning, this fic is fairly dark! thank you so much @anon-nee for this amazing banner art. 🖤

When you were hired as Homelander’s secretary, the gig had been pitched as a cushy desk job. Now that he’s the new face of Vought, and Ashley the company CEO, he needs someone who will keep his day to day affairs in order. Apparently, you’re just the person for that job.

“You probably won’t see much of him,” Ashley tells you distractedly. She rarely ever looks away from her phone for long.

“There are two landlines on your desk. The left one is for general business, and the one on the right, the red one, is exclusively for him. Don’t make calls on it. He has the number memorized, he’s the only one who’ll ever call it, so make sure you always answer it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you say diligently.

Glancing over, Ashley does a double take. “Aren’t you married? Where’s your ring?”

You falter, looking down at your hands. “Oh,” you say, taking said ring out of your pocket. “I put hand cream on earlier, I just forgot to put it back on.”

“Make sure you keep that on,” she says, giving you a critical look before returning her gaze to her phone. “He’s particular.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

Nevertheless, you make sure to always keep your wedding ring on while you’re at work.

True to Ashley’s word, you see neither hide nor hair of Homelander during your first three days. You make his appointments, you take calls on his behalf, and you organize his bookings.

In your office, directly across from your desk, hangs a borderline comically oversized portrait of him that stares relentlessly at you as you work. You often find yourself staring back at it, the back of your neck prickling with the irrational feeling of being watched.

You know that it’s just in your head, but you can’t help but be put off by the feeling. Sometimes you consider covering the portrait, but the last thing you want is for the man to appear out of the blue and see a blanket thrown over his likeness.

Your instinct proves correct.

“Hey you,” comes a voice like silk. You startle, looking up from your desk to find a shock of red, white and blue standing in your doorway, his arms folded casually behind his back.

“Homelander,” you say, nearly choking on the name. “Sir, hello. I’m–”

“I know,” he interjects smoothly, cape swaying behind him as he passes the threshold, making his way over to your desk. That voice. He’s not even said five words to you yet, but it lingers in your ears like warm honey, causing a flush of warmth to roll through you. You convince yourself that you’re just embarrassed to have been caught so thoroughly off guard. “My new secretary. Sorry I couldn’t stop by sooner.”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize, sir. I know better than most how–” you hesitate, watching as he takes a turn and begins walking directly towards you, circling behind your desk. “–busy you are,” you finish, looking up at him as he looms over you. You wonder if you should stand, but he’s so close to you now, you’d just knock right into him.

He smells good. Earthy and slightly sweet, like vetiver.

“That’s pretty,” he remarks, gesturing to your ring finger. “Sapphire, huh? Unusual choice.”

You swallow, trying desperately to reign in the cadence of your breath. Your heart is pattering as wildly as rain drops. “Thank you. My husband chose it, it’s his birthstone.”

To which Homelander giggles. It’s a delighted, slightly off-putting little noise. “P’wow, he gave you a ring with his birthstone, huh? Really staking his claim,” he says, reaching down to take your hand. He looks at you just before he makes contact. His eyes are even bluer than the stone in your ring. “May I?”

Dumbstruck, you nod, lifting your hand and placing it in his upturned palm. He sits on your desk and turns your hand this way and that, watching the way your ring catches the light. Eventually, his gaze slips back to yours. “Happily married?”

“Very,” you say immediately, your throat suddenly dry.

He smiles, and only then do you notice how unusually sharp his canines are.

“Good. Glad to hear it,” he says, giving your hand a gentle pat before he lets it go. You immediately drop your hand into your lap, touching your ring. You feel strangely lightheaded all of a sudden, unable to look away from his piercing gaze. Even when he isn’t speaking, you can still hear the warmth of his tone echoing all around you.

“Well, it was a pleasure to meet you,” he says, standing from your desk with preternatural elegance, as if he’d floated more than lifted himself.

“Please, the pleasure was all mine,” you say with a smile, somewhat dazed. “I look forward to seeing you again.”

He looks pleased as punch at that. “I’ll try not to be such a stranger, hmm?” he purrs, reaching out to give your shoulder a friendly squeeze. You feel the rumble of his voice roll all the way down your spine and into the core of you, leaving a light throb nestled between your thighs.

“I’d like that. Thank you, sir,” you say, your voice sounding dreamy and distant in your own ears.

Flashing that same toothy grin, he shoots you a wink before he turns face with a slight flourish of his cape, the fabric billowing in his wake as he takes his leave, disappearing down the hall.

The second he’s gone, it’s like the spell of his presence breaks and you come crashing back to yourself, eyes wide. A hot broil of shame rolls through you when you realize how aroused you are, that throb lingering. You’re equal parts shocked and disgusted with yourself, sickened by the hot prickle lingering on every inch of your skin.

Holy shit. What the fuck was that?

You wind up leaving an hour early, eager to be home. The shame makes you desperate to see your husband, as if touching him will erase the residual traces of the effect that Homelander had on your body.

It doesn’t. In fact, that feeling of being watched follows you all the way home, the feel of it becoming a specter haunting your house. When your husband seeks intimacy from you in your bed later that night, you push his hands away.

“Sorry,” you say softly, shaken. “Not tonight.”

Your body still remembers him too viscerally.

That night, you dream of songbirds.

Two days later, the right landline rings for the first time. You stare blankly at it, your stomach immediately twisting into knots. It rings, once, twice, nearly a third time before you hurriedly snatch it up off the receiver. “Hello?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” comes Homelander’s familiar drawl. His voice falls over you like a wash of sunlight, warm and heavy. “Thought you might be ignoring me for a second there.”

“No, no, never. Sorry, sir,” you say, reaching for your water. You take a quick sip. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing too dire, just a little shuffling. Can you bump tomorrow’s 4pm to Thursday for me?” He asks, voice slipping around your throat like a noose. The press of it makes you slightly breathless.

“Of course,” you say, balancing the phone on your shoulder while you manipulate your tablet. “That’s no problem at all, done.”

“That’s my girl,” he says, the phone turning his voice into an intimate rumble in your ear.

You blink, feeling like your mouth is full of cotton. You can’t seem to form a response.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He asks, and you swear up and down you can hear a smile in his voice. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Was there anything else, sir?” You manage to blurt out, words leaving you in a clumsy spill. You’re breathing shallowly, mouth parched. You snatch up your water and take another quick sip. There’s a long pause on the line, the silence so deafening you think for a moment you must have missed something. “Sir?”

“Touch yourself.”

Your heart falls into your stomach, but that feeling is nothing compared to the unbidden liquid heat that those words erupt throughout your body.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he says patiently. Amused, even. “Touch yourself. Take your hand–no, no, the left one,” he says in response to your right hand drifting down. You weren’t even aware you’d started moving. You swap the phone from your left hand to your right, and grab hold of your thigh with your left hand.

“I don’t understand,” you say, the words feeling as thick as molasses on your tongue. “Why are you–”

“That’s good. Now, move those pretty fingers in. Just like that,” he directs, and to your own distant horror, your hand moves, sliding between your legs and lifting up your skirt, your sparkling ring disappearing beneath it. You press your middle finger directly to your beating clit and let go a shuddering breath, massaging it through your panties.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Show me how you like it, mm? Bet your husband still doesn’t know the first fuckin’ thing about how to make you feel good. He ever watch you do this to yourself, ever bother to learn how you like to be touched?”

Disoriented, you shake your head. Your hips reflexively lift to meet the smooth figure-eights you rub yourself with. You’re sure you’d agree to anything he said so long as he keeps talking.

“Didn’t think so. Don’t you worry your pretty little head, sweetheart. I know exactly what you need.”

The heat of his voice envelops you, makes your whole body feel aflame. You’ve never been so sensitive in your life, already shuddering and squirming in your seat from the intensity of sensation building beneath your fingers.

“Slow down. There’s no rush. You’re as good as mine now.”

His voice is like velvet but his words sting, needling something inside you that squirms. You screw your eyes shut and shake your head more fervently. “No, no, m’not… I don’t…”

“Shhhhh,” he hushes, the hiss of it like a serpent in your ear. “Give it up for me, sweetheart.”

A whimper escapes your throat, the noise all but choked out of you. You can’t move, save for the increasingly frantic stroke of your fingers. His voice is a physical caress that slips down the line of your throat, between your breasts, slinking in serpentine patterns until it spills over your fingers and–

You gasp awake, staring wide-eyed at your blurry ceiling as wave after wave of pure euphoria crashes over you, stealing your capacity for breath. You ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm in a state of delirium, the shadows on your ceiling dancing like a voyeuristic crowd. You’re not sure if it takes seconds, minutes or hours to end, your perception of time distorted by the sheer intensity of sensation.

Looking to your side, panting, you see your husband sleeping soundly beside you. His snores are faint and peaceful. The curtains of your balcony door billow softly with the night’s breeze.

Your day comes back to you in a slow blur. The phone call was real, you’re sure of it… Aren’t you? Reaching for your phone, you hurriedly log into your Vought calendar and check the schedule. Sure enough, in your history, you can see that you bumped his next day R&D meeting to Thursday. That was real.

You wrack your brain for the details of your day, trying to piece together how you got from there to here, and whether or not any of Homelander’s voice cooing lewd commands in your ear was real. 

It couldn’t have been. 

The more the dream fades from your mind, the more you remember the rest of your day. You remember hanging up the phone, finishing your work day as per usual, and going home to your husband. Though it’s all something of a strange blur, the memories are there.

Even so, the dream somehow feels more real than any of it.

It’s 5am and you doubt you’ll be sleeping again. You get up early, shower, and make breakfast all before your husband even makes it to the kitchen. Your dreams and the haze of yesterday fade with the rising sun, as all dreams and memories often do.

You’re in the process of putting your dishes away when he walks in, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “You got an early start today?” He asks, biting back a yawn.

It’s cute. He’s cute. You feel an irrational spike of guilt.

It was just a dream.

“Didn’t sleep well,” you admit, kissing him on the cheek. You wrinkle your nose. “Oof, morning breath,” you say playfully, but there’s an edge of truth to it. You can’t explain it, but there’s something off about the way your husband smells this morning.

Your mind drifts wistfully to the pleasant memory of sweet vetiver.

By the time you make it to work, your morning is nothing but a distant recollection at the peripheral of your consciousness. 

Nonetheless, the sight of that bright red landline still makes you blush. 

You don’t see Homelander again for another three days. At least, not at work. In reality, you’re more aware of him than you’ve ever been in your life. His face is everywhere, be it TV or billboards. You see him in the grocery store, the post office, and even the goddamn DMV. You never really noticed until now how inescapable Homelander truly is.

It’s no wonder he continues to appear in your dreams, too. You can’t seem to remember any of them very well, but you know without a doubt each time you wake that you were haunted by sapphire blue eyes and a voice as decadent as sin.

Sometimes you recall a gorgeous view of the city hundreds of feet in the air. Other times you recall a blue bed, but the thing you remember most is mirrors. You see yourself clearly in them. You see him with you.

All the while a budding friction between you and your husband continues to grow. You find yourself telling him more often to brush his teeth, shower, anything to combat this bizarre stink he’s taken on. Some days it’s so bad, you swear you smell rotting meat before you realize it’s him. Even the sound of his voice grates on you, both rough and shrill in a way that agitates you further and further into isolation in the house you once happily shared.

On that third day at work, you’re penciling in a meeting regarding a potential collaboration with Superplastic when a rhythmic knock at the door jostles you from focus. You look up to call them in, but Homelander is already striding inside, stealing the words right off the tip of your tongue. 

“Goooood afternoon,” he drawls, the door falling shut behind him. For as much as you’ve continued to see and hear of him, you had forgotten how different he sounds in person, the force of his presence instantly a weight upon your body.

Your brain completely malfunctions. Night after night of erotic whispers suddenly crashes down upon you in visceral detail, how multiple times you woke to the throes of an orgasm with his voice still echoing in your ears. Humiliation and arousal flood you in equal measure, turning your skin hot.

Homelander smiles at you from the other side of your desk all the while. 

“Cat got your tongue?” He asks slyly. The question hurdles you backwards in time to the moment you were seated in this exact spot with him whispering downright pornographic filth into your ear, coaxing you into touching yourself into a frenzy.

It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was a dream.

“Good afternoon, sir,” you finally manage to say, wincing internally at the sound of your own voice.

“Don’t be so formal,” he says, giving a dismissive little wave. “C’mon, call me Homelander,” he says, once again circling around behind your desk. Your eyes widen slightly, mouth bone dry when you try to swallow. He sweeps his cape out of the way before taking a leisurely seat on your desk. He lifts his brows, pinning you with an expectant stare. “Go on, try again.”

“Uh, good afternoon, Homelander,” you correct yourself. His proximity to you is making it hard to focus–there it is again, the scent of vetiver. He smells like summer grass warmed by the hot sun, and he has a gravitational pull to him that has you leaning subconsciously towards him.

His smile widens. “Much better.” His eyes narrow a touch, flickering down briefly before snapping back up to meet your gaze. 

“So! How’s the office, everything nice and cozy?” He asks, one hand braced next to him on your desk, the other gesturing vaguely about. Before you can even answer, he points to your lap. 

“Chair good? I know how important lumbar support is when you’re sitting all day.”

Discussing your lumbar support needs with Homelander certainly had not been on your bingo sheet.

“Uhm, yes, it’s–” Again, before you can get a real answer in, he’s sitting up and making sweeping motions with his hand.

“Let’s see, up, up, lemme take this bad boy for a spin,” he says, making your heart leap up into your throat when he catches you by your waist and effortlessly lifts you up out of your office chair, turning to set you on your feet. With a flourish of his cape, he drops down into your chair, legs spread wide.

You gawk momentarily, watching him spin side to side.

“Oop, there’s that lumbar,” he says, leaning back into it. He’s grinning at you all the while, the moment entirely surreal. You huff an incredulous little laugh, crossing your arms. He’s a little ridiculous, you realize, but personable. 

Have you been the problem this whole time, turning him into something he’s not? You’re starting to lose yourself in your thoughts as you watch him.  

“How about we test the suspension? C’mere,” he says, giving his thigh a pat. “Sit.”

You snap back to attention, your smile falling away. “Pardon?”

“Sit,” he says again, his smile a predatory curve of his lips. He pats his thigh again “Right here.”

You look down at his lap and then back up, your ears buzzing with the timbre of his voice. Logically, you know that what he’s just demanded is wildly inappropriate, yet the silken tone he said it in leaves you utterly agreeable. Slowly, you lower yourself into his lap, uncertain of why you wouldn’t abide by such a request.

“That’s my pretty girl,” he coos, bracketing your waist with his arms.

 ”That’s better, isn’t it?” He asks, his hands moving up and down your thighs. You shiver, a chill running down your spine despite the fervid heat of his body pressed along the back of yours.

A distant voice in the back of your mind whispers it wasn’t a dream, though you can barely hear it over the pounding of your own blood in your ears.

“Relax,” he murmurs, the word a warm huff on your neck. 

Like a marionette whose strings have been cut, your body goes slack against him. Your heart continues to race even as a wave of calm sweeps through you, the two sensations frantically battling one another. Eventually, however, your pulse succumbs to the warmth seeping from him, and you begin to calm, soothed by the slow sweeps of his palms and the way he’s muttering sweet nothings into your ear. 

“Good girl,” he breathes, the smile audible in his voice. “That’s it. Feels good, hmm?” His hands move more firmly on your thighs, closer to a massage.

You make a thin noise of pleasure, tipping your head back to rest on his shoulder.

“When I tell you… that I have been looking forward to this,” he murmurs, lips brushing your neck. 

“But I had to be sure you were the one. Most people start to go insane after the first night, maybe the second, but not you.” His teeth, sharp as razors, delicately graze your throat. “You’ve been… perfect.”

“What’re you talking about?” You ask, feeling slightly slow and disoriented.

Homelander chuckles, the rumble of it moving from his chest through your back. 

“My voice. It tears apart people's minds… But not yours. Why is that?” His lips are warm on your skin, trailing lower. He lifts a hand to pull your collar askew and kiss at the exposed crook of your neck.

“I don’t know,” you sigh, eyes flickering shut. His mouth feels incredible, the slight dampness that his lips leave behind making you especially sensitive to the air as he exposes you to it. It’s difficult to focus on anything other than the drag of his mouth. 

You don’t even realize he’s unbuttoned your shirt and slipped it off of your shoulders until he’s kissing that newly revealed skin, nipping playfully at your bra strap.

“Here I was thinking you were just a pretty, tasty little thing… Turns out you’re so much more,” he purrs between kisses. A jolt of pain makes you gasp and then whimper, the sting of it soothed by the way his tongue drags over the spot afterwards.

It takes you a beat to comprehend that he’s just bitten the junction between your neck and shoulder, sunk his sharp teeth in so deep you smell the faint tang of blood.

“Turns out you were meant for me all along,” he says between slow drags of his tongue, lapping at your soft skin. He moans for the taste of it. “Watching you writhe in your bed, wanting me, touching yourself while your useless husband slept. I thought I was the one going fucking insane.”

Comprehension is a slow, creeping thing to your addled mind.  “You were watching me. The dreams, you–”

“Whispered them into your ear while you slept,” he interjects, kissing at the shell of your ear. “You took to ‘em like gasoline takes to a spark,” he says, that voice of his wrapping around your body and limbs like a dozen slithery tendrils. 

The touch of his voice is just as tangible as his hands sliding up your thighs, your stomach, cupping your breasts through your bra. You let out a shuddering moan.

“Every night, I was so sure you’d break. But you didn’t. You won’t.”

His confession brings back images in a flood, untangling dreams from memories. You remember a silhouette standing over you, you remember piercing red eyes glowing in the dark, and you remember the filth he spoke over you that made your body twist and sweat and come harder than you ever have.

All of it intertwines with this very moment, with his hands on you, his body against yours. It has you moaning, writhing back against him the same way you did in your bed beneath his gaze.

“Call your husband,” he tells you, hand slipping between your legs, hooking under your skirt.

“What?” You rasp, clutching at his wrists. You shiver at the hot slide of his tongue just behind your ear.

“Call your husband,” he repeats, thick gloved finger rubbing sparks between your thighs. “Tell him you’re coming home early. Tell him to wait for you in the bedroom.” 

Leaning forward, Homelander snatches the left landline off the desk and pulls it into your lap, resting it atop his hand while he fingers you in slow, precise circles.

You pick up the receiver and dial unsteadily. It doesn’t sound like something you shouldn’t do. Even as it rings, you feel no dread or apprehension. Just the drive to obey the voice cradling your mind and body so very sweetly.

“Hi,” you exhale when he answers the phone, screwing your eyes shut. It takes everything in you just to focus on speaking. 

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m coming–” your breath catches as Homelander pushes your panties aside and breaches you with a single finger, sliding into your soaked pussy in one slow, continuous slide. 

“I’m coming home early today,” you say, holding both the receiver and Homelander’s wrist in a white-knuckle grip. “Can you wait in the bedroom for me?”

He’s thoroughly confused, but all that does is frustrate you. His voice comes through ugly and nasally over the phone, grating through your nerves instantly. You feel the urge to yell at him, but the breath is stolen from your lungs by the sweet press of Homelander’s thick gloved finger crooking inside you, stroking exactly the right spot to make you see stars.

“Just–just do it, please? Wait in the bedroom, I’ll be–I’ll be home soon.”

You slam down the phone just in time, letting out a cry, lurching forward. The phone tumbles from your lap with a clatter and Homelander catches you with an arm across your chest, pinning you back against his chest.

“Good girl, that’s it. Give it up for me. Lemme feel that pretty pussy come,” he moans, grinding up against you, the sound of his finger pumping into you obscenely loud and wet. 

“C’mon, sweetheart. Whet my appetite. Gimme something before it’s time to fucking eat.”

You come loudly, clenching your legs tightly around his hand. He stops just to feel you tighten and convulse through his glove, his lips and teeth and tongue all wreaking havoc at your throat.

“Fuck,” he sighs, followed by the low rumble of a chuckle. Your thighs shake as he pulls his hand away. You can smell the heady smell of your own slick when he brings his finger to his mouth and sucks the taste of you from it, the sound lewd in your ear.

“You even taste pretty,” he hums, voice frayed like a growl. There’s an inhuman split to his voice, like there’s three of them layered over top of each other.

The whole world feels like it’s spinning. You have no center of gravity, just the sensation of movement as Homelander effortlessly maneuvers you up into his arms. Your head lolls against his chest, vision swimming.

Warm lips press sweetly to your forehead. “Rest up, pretty girl,” he murmurs. The words instantly make you drowsy. “I’ll wake you up when I’m done.”

The world slips into darkness. The last thing you’re aware of is the feeling of flying.

When you come back to consciousness, the darkness remains. You recognize your bedroom ceiling above you, familiar shadows dancing across it, beckoning you awake. 

A dream…?

Your limbs are leaden, weighed down to the bed. You try desperately to untangle the fantastical from what is real, walking backwards through what you remember. Touch, smell, sound, and pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever known. You remember Homelander’s hands on you, in you, his body and voice all around you, the sound of–

Sound. What is that sound? It’s close to you, but you can’t move your head to see. It’s a series of wet, soft squelching noises akin to someone manipulating piles of drenched laundry. Then you hear a crunch like a tree branch snapping, and you start to recognize another sound; panting breaths followed by an erotic moan of pure indulgence.

You open your mouth to speak, but your throat is too tight, and nothing escapes it. As you come back to yourself more and more, you realize the bed beneath you is warm and wet.

You manage to force a noise from the back of your throat, a strained sound born of the effort to move. Next to you, something shifts. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” coos Homelander’s familiar voice. Your heart crashes against your ribcage, the only part of you that can freely move expressing the shock of hearing his voice here in your bed.

“Shhhshhhh, no need for that,” he murmurs, moving into your line of sight, hovering over you. His face is spattered in something dark, but when he smiles his sharp teeth are white and bright, even in the dim moonlight of your bedroom. His voice soothes your frayed nerves almost instantly.

“Take a deep breath,” he says. You do so easily, as if you were never paralyzed. “Good. Perfect timing,” he tells you, his tongue sliding along his teeth, his lips, threads of saliva stretched between his teeth snapping. “I’m still plenty hungry for you.”

He kisses you, swinging his leg over to envelop your body with his. All at once you can move again, your bones no longer weighed down. You relax beneath the press of his lips and the weight of him, exhaling a breath through your nose. 

“Kiss me,” he mumbles fervently. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him with everything you have, your lips sliding slickly against one another. He licks the taste of copper into your mouth.

Blood, a distant part of you realizes. Whatever horror you should feel is replaced by building excitement, his touch reigniting heat throughout your body. Like gasoline takes to a spark.

His lips move to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, trailing bloodied kisses down your throat. He has less patience for your clothes now than he did in your office, tearing your shirt and bra from your body with a feral noise. His hands are upon you instantly, spreading the blood on his hands down your chest, massaging your breasts until he works a needy moan out of you.

“Can’t believe I almost ate you, too,” he says with a smile.  Before you can respond, he leans down to suck your nipple into his mouth, hands sliding lower. You gasp and push your hands into his hair, slicking it back with what sprayed into it. His mouth is inferno hot on your skin, goosebumps erupting over every inch of you. His tongue is a devilish thing, working your nipple in circles, but it’s the light pinch of his teeth that make your whole body lurch.

He makes quick work of your clothing from the waist down, too, stripping you until there’s nothing left between you and the blood soaked fabric of his suit. His hand disappears from you, and you hear a metallic click followed by the hiss of a zipper. He nudges your legs apart to settle properly between them, pulling off of your breast with a satisfied pop. He licks his lips of the blood he had spread to your breast, eyes wild and glowing faintly red.

“Let’s get rid of this while we’re at it,” he says, lifting your hand. He kisses the tip of your ring finger before taking it into his mouth, gaze flickering up to meet yours as he takes it all the way down past your knuckle, your ring disappearing past his lips. He catches the metal band with his teeth and drags it slowly off, sucking your finger clean of it. A chill runs down your spine at the crunch the metal gives as he effortlessly chews and swallows it.

You stare in numb, abject shock, but even that rapidly fades to the fires rolling through you. 

Hands on your thighs, he easily pulls your ass into his lap. You look down to see his cock freed from his suit pants, thick and nicely curved. He bends over you, hitching your legs up over his shoulder, and you feel the flat curve of the bottom of his cock press against your cunt. He grins down at you, rocking his hips to grind through the slick mess he’s made of you.

“Let’s see if you feel as good as you taste,” he says, claiming your lips once more. He pulls his hips back, and you feel the head of his cock drooling precome as it slides over your clit, down to your soaked cunt. The dull stretch of it splitting you open burns, has you keening against his lips. He kisses you again and again and again.

“That’s it, baby. Open up for me. Lemme feel that perfect pussy,” he grits out, voice frayed at the edges like he’s finally beginning to lose that cocky composure of his. Even still, his voice retains that otherworldly aspect to it. He bottoms out with a low moan, hips flush to your body.

“Oh fffffuck,” he groans, cock throbbing against the velvety walls of your cunt. You can feel the pulse of him, even more so when you squeeze. It gives you an unexpected and intoxicating shot of power when doing that makes him gasp. “Perfect. My perfect fuckin’ match, fuck. I knew you would be, I knew you were made for me,” he babbles, bordering on incoherence as he starts to thrust, gripping your ass with one hand while the other goes to the headboard, slamming it against the wall with each snap of his hips.

“H-Homelander,” you moan, tangling both hands in his hair, dragging your nails harshly down his scalp, the back of his neck, throwing your head back against your pillow. 

He gives your ass a sharp slap just to feel the way your cunt clenches with it, a growl rolling from his throat.

“Come with me,” he demands, instantly sending the pressure building in you into a soar. He moves faster, deeper, each slam punching out pitchy noises from you. Every drag of his cock feels like a spark inside you, like the strike of a match igniting stars in your peripheral vision. You come with a near scream, nails biting fruitlessly into Homelander’s skin. 

He rides your orgasm fiercely, fucking you into the bloody mess of your bed until he, too, succumbs to the clench of your cunt. He lets out a guttural cry, the wood of your headboard snapping in his grasp as his release floods you, so hot that it nearly burns.

You’re both panting into each other's mouths, lips occasionally brushing. There’s a possessive growl to the edge of Homelander’s breaths, as if warning anything that might hear of the danger of approaching.

“You’re mine now, you understand?” He says lowly, his velveteen voice hoarse, almost animalistic. “My match, my mate, mine.”

Deliriously, you nod, mind still lost to the aftershocks of your climax, your pussy quivering around the girth of his cock. It’s not enough for Homelander, who gives another sharp thrust, knocking an overstimulated moan out of you. “Do you understand?”

“I understand,” you gasp, meeting his gaze. His harsh expression softens at that, the crimson glow fading from his eyes, leaving only that familiar ocean blue in its wake. He kisses you leisurely, but with no less hunger. He lets your legs slip carefully from his shoulders, but remains buried deep inside you, staking his claim as thoroughly as possible. He kisses your neck, makes you wince when he sucks at the mark he bit into your skin.

“You got no idea how long I’ve been looking for you,” he mumbles, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You stroke your fingers through his hair, soaking in the feeling of his superhuman body thrumming against yours. You tighten your grip in his hair and lift his head, bringing his gaze up to meet yours. He looks curiously at you until that curiosity flips to surprise as you kiss him, earning a pleased little hum from him. 

When you part, his surprise has melted away into something dazed and soft. Something like love, or maybe satiation. The two look so very similar.

Homelander kisses you a while longer before he nestles down against you.

Your head lolls to the side for the first time, and only then do you see the full scope of the horror resting next to you; bones jut out from the mess of viscera and meat, shredded clothing thick with blood and innards. It looks like the work of a rabid animal, something vicious and hungry.

You know instantly that the mess is all that remains of your former husband. 

It occurs to you that you should feel a dozen different awful things about the pile of gore splayed out on your bed, but ultimately, the only thought that lingers is how he finally suits that rotten meat smell.

Looking back to the ceiling, you continue to comb your fingers through Homelander’s hair. His weight is a comfortable thing upon you, and beneath the smell of gore, you’re soothed by the gentle, warm scent of vetiver. Your eyelids grow heavy, and within minutes, you drift to sleep.

When you wake, there is no tang of blood heavy in the air. You sit up in a bed that is both alien and familiar. It isn’t until you see the mirrors around you that you realize that this is the bed from your dreams.

You feel warm, despite the early morning chill beyond the blankets. You feel a tug, and as you look down, Homelander pulls you back down into his arms.

“Mornin’, pretty girl.”

“Morning,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him. He hums pleasantly as you touch him, your hands roaming the naked scape of his body, testing that he’s real. You draw back, brows furrowed.

“Everything alright?” He asks, his voice as rich and creamy as ever.

“Yeah,” you say quietly, a touch uncertain. “Weird dreams.”

He smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss. “Well, you’re awake now.”

Somehow, you’re not so certain. 

Regardless, you huff a little laugh and snuggle back into his arms. 

“Love you,” you say, losing yourself to the familiar comfort of a partner in your arms, in your bed, in your heart. The longer you’re there, the more the dreams fade away, replaced with the reality of your waking world and the sweet smell of vetiver.

Homelander squeezes you to his chest, stroking idly up and down your back with his knuckles. You can hear the smile in his voice as he returns, “I love you, too.”

[moralesmilesanhour]

teamwork (makes the dream work...?) pt. 2

summary: miles is not exactly a productive work partner

wc: ~800

A/N: not much plot movement here, but a tiny bit of exposition sort of. Miles will calm down in the following chapters...maybe 🥴

prev. next

"Oh Miles? He's in some of my AP classes. Honor student," Your friend's voice filtered through your phone speakers while on the FaceTime call. She popped a potato chip in her mouth as she sat in bed and sniffled, at home with a nasty cold.

"I've heard his name before. I think his dad died, that true?"

"Yeah, a couple years ago. Say he used to be really sweet, and now he don't talk no more."

"That's sad," you remark. "Maybe that's why I'm only seeing him now."

"You actually saw him in class?!?"

Your friend's face was the picture of disbelief, eyes wide as saucers as if this was a rare event.

"Yeah, he's my partner for the week cuz you decided to go and get yo ass sick!" you explained, dramatically jabbing a finger at your phone screen.

"It's not my fault that kid from AP Chem sneezed on me, damn!"

"He's really smart, but his attitude fucking sucks. He draws good, though," you think out loud.

“It’s just a week, sis, give it four more days, you’ll be fine.”

“You’d better hope so, for your sake.”

-

The following afternoon saw you asking around, trying to piece together a picture of this kid that everyone simultaneously knew and didn’t know. By the time lunchtime ended and Ms. Jones’ calculus class rolled around, you had heard the following:

‘Almost flunked out of school…on purpose’.

‘Did graffiti on the school walls once.’

‘Freakishly quiet’.

‘Secretly joined a gang’.

That last bit made your stomach turn a little as you approached your new temporary seat. Sure enough, Miles was already slouched at his desk, twirling that same pen between his fingers like a drumstick. You didn’t bother to say ‘hi’ this time. He didn’t bother to look up, either.

Miles didn’t say a word during the lecture portion of class, not even to answer questions. Would explain why you’d hardly noticed him until this week.

As the heavy-set math teacher scanned the classroom, she frequently craned her neck and made brief eye contact with Miles, but never cold-called him.

Her skin was a chestnut shade, and she kept her dark hair pinned back in a tight, slick bun. The way she pressed her lips together as she moved on suggested that they’d been through this before, and she'd be sorely disappointed.

When her lecture ended, Miles suddenly stood to his full height.

You weren’t able to tell by the way he sat, but the boy was quite lanky. Even with his awkwardly-broad shoulders slumped, he likely was a half a head taller than you. Ms. Jones stopped her slow pacing around the classroom and sighed.

“Miles, sweetie, what did I say yesterday?”

Miles looked up at the ceiling and sighed in exasperation before plopping back down into his chair. He raised his hand as if it pained him to do so.

“Yes, Mr. Morales?”

“May I please use the restroom?”

A few snickers could be heard erupting around the classroom, and the woman rolled her eyes. An innocent smile was plastered over Miles’ face, revealing two deep dimples in his cheeks. If the smile had actually reached his eyes, you would’ve thought he was cute.

“Go ahead,” Jones relented.

The boy dropped the smile and noisily pushed his chair aside; As he shot back up from his seat and strolled past your desk towards the door, Jones narrowed her eyes at him.

“Hold it. Sir, where are your glasses?”

Miles stopped in his tracks, groaning loudly.

“Oh my god, I don’t need glasses to go potty, Ms. Jones. I can aim, I promise.”

“Make sure you put them on as soon as you get back, your mother told me to remind you. Go,” Jones said, waving her hand dismissively.

“Uh-huh, thank you, ma’am!” The boy was already in the hallway, letting the door slam behind him.

Today's partner work was just a packet of long equations to simplify, so you were only mildly irritated that Miles never seemed to return from his impromptu bathroom trip until the last fifteen minutes of class.

You looked up as he sauntered over to his desk, hands in his pockets.

“Where were you? Class is almost over,” you demanded.

Miles ignored you and sat down, picking up his pen to work at a long string of equations at lightning speed.

Suddenly, you reached over and snapped your fingers in front of him. The boy looked up with his lips curled into a grimace.

"What's good witchu? You got through the work, didn't you?" Miles hissed in a low whisper to avoid catching Ms. Jones' attention.

You frowned deeply. "And what if I didn't? I'd be struggling while you were off running around the damn school-"

"I needed time to myself," he interrupted. "To think."

" 'Think' about what?"

"Personal shit," Miles resumed his problem-solving. "Any more questions, officer?"

The school bell rang, pulling from you a sigh of relief that you wouldn't have to see him again for another 24 hours.

[intynidad]

Yes sir ma’am sir

Yandere otome au: the DLC

Tw: yandere stuff, suggestive in some parts tell me if I miss anything please

Tag: @pollypocketblog03u thanks for ur request love! <3

As time went on, you noticed something peculiar: despite the approaching "final day" of the game, the heroine had not yet locked a route. It struck you as quite unusual, but you dismissed the notion that it had anything to do with you. Perhaps the game mechanics were different in this "real life" version. Through some trial and error, you managed to discover a sort of "pause menu." However, it didn't prove particularly helpful. It wasn't like you could literally pause time, but it provided you with information about the characters, which you were determined to use to your advantage. Strangely enough, when you examined the character sheets, you found that some of them were either blank or marked with a ??? symbol.

Then, it dawned on you that the final day wouldn't be triggered until the heroine had met all the love interests. Recalling the main cast, you were certain there were only three: the childhood friend, the family friend, and the loner (excluding yourself as the rival and the heroine).

Nevertheless, you were positive that the heroine had interacted with all of them, as you had observed her engaging in (not so friendly) conversations with each.

That’s until you remembered…you had installed the “more love” dlc!

Okay... This is actually pretty perfect, to be honest.

If you manage to meet all the new love interests and make them your friends, or even prevent the heroine from meeting them at all, the "final day" won't trigger, and the heroine won't take revenge on you! This is perfect. What could go wrong?

You honestly had no idea who the new love interest would be and the whole “praying for your life” thing made you exhausted, you needed a way out.

So there were you moving through the game map to a new location exclusive of the dlc, “the obsidian stardust”

The bass reverberates through every fiber of your being, as bodies move in sync with the hypnotic melodies. The dance floor is a mosaic of swaying figures, their movements fluid and uninhibited. The atmosphere is alive with an aura of liberation, a temporary escape from the mundane.

It was just what you needed

With your newfound knowledge of the current route and the realization that the "final day" was yet to come, a sense of relief washed over you, and you felt a wave of relaxation. Tonight, you were determined to forget about everything and simply enjoy yourself on the dance floor, immersing yourself in the music and letting loose.

Lost in your own little world, you accidentally bumped into someone. "Ah, sorry, my ba..." you began to apologize, but before you could finish, the stranger took hold of your hand and pulled you into a dance.

Well, this wasn't exactly what you had envisioned, but it was a club after all, and people often bumped into each other. Perhaps this person simply assumed you wanted to dance, and you decided to go with the flow, embracing the unexpected twist of the evening.

Both of you danced and danced until it was time to go home.

You were outside the club either debating to call one of your friends or just pick up a taxi when you felt a tab on your shoulder.

“You really know how to move, ain’t ya’” this stranger looked at you with half lidded eyes

“Let me tell you something” he got a step closer “my place is a couple of streets away, so what do you say”

“No thanks”

“Perfect, let me just grab my car and we ca-wait what?”

“I said no thanks” you repeated yourself a little bit louder

The stranger was frozen in place while you walked your merry way into a taxi and left

Did?- did he just got rejected??

THE PLAYBOY

This dude is a player, he loves to sleep around and break hearts. He knows he is handsome and is willing to use it in his favor to get what he wants.

Used to sleeping around and breaking Hearts but totally not used to being rejected, so when you do it is like if somebody dropped a bucket full of ice water on top of him.

But when he recovers from the initial shock he sees this as a test, a challenge to test his charm and ability to woo people.

So he tracks you down and starts to shamelessly flirt with you and being very vocal on wanting to sleep with you.

And you just??? Say No? To him??? Who does that!!?

So he tries and tries again, his friends telling him to give it up and to just move to another pray, that any other boy or girl would be in line to get on their knees for him.

But no, he doesn’t want anybody. He.wants.you.

This becomes something personal,he needs to make you his.

This starts to slowly spiral into an obsession but he is delusional, you are just crazy about him! You are just playing hard to get!

He ends up convincing himself that you are completely in love with him and that you are just or too shy or too bratty to accept his- i mean your feelings

Is not until he is fucking another person that he realizes that it doesn’t make him feel good anymore,at least not the way it was before.

His worst fear had materialized before his very eyes: he had succumbed to the allure of love.

The echoes of his past deeds reverberated through his being, fueling a resolute determination to never subject himself to the heartbreak he had once inflicted on his victims.

You will be his,and that’s final

The delinquent

With your newfound understanding of the city's layout, you found yourself strolling through its vibrant streets more frequently (purely coincidental, of course, and certainly not a clever tactic to evade the relentless presence of the heroine and the rest of the love interests). On one eventful day, as you ventured downtown, a disturbing scene unfolded before your eyes. A group of individuals, driven by an inexplicable rage, were beating the absolute crap of some random unfortunate soul.

you and what you assume was the leader made eye contact and you did what was the most logic course of action.

Averting your eyes, your pace quickened, silently signaling your intent to distance yourself from the impending chaos.

What?.you weren’t gonna risk yourself like that!

It was best to mind your own affairs and leave the role of the valiant hero to others.

You thought that that would be the end of the interaction, that until you were in a local bookstore,mostly to pass the time, that’s until you were passing through the cooking section that your eyes meet with the same guy was beating the random person the other day!

He looked well, cleaner?(with less blood you mean) and you could swear that they took out some of their piercings.

The eyes of the ringleader flashed with recognized and panic, and started to speed walk and corner you into an mostly empty part of the bookstore

Long story short, you were threatened with staying quiet with the leader’s apparently-secret-hobby of baking

After that you started to bump into him more often.

He even one day gave you some muffins on the (totally not excuse) of needing a taste tester.

After that you two started to hang out around, his menacing aura was enough to make people move off the way.

He even started to give you more of your favorite pastries (even though you don’t remember telling them about your preferences)

What you didn't know is that the delinquent grew really attached to you because you didn't judge him about his “secret hobby”.

He might or might not started to mix the pastries with…some special ingredients

A thirst was just a little bit of his saliva, just to pretend you guys shared an indirect kiss, then it moved to…other stuff.

Watching you stuff your mouth with something he made, made his mind wander on what that mouth of yours could do.

When some underling of his made the comment of him going soft for somebody, he crushed his skull with a metal bar until probably not even their family would be able to recognize them.

[milla-frenchy]

The detective

2k6 | Tim Rockford x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: being a suspect in a theft case, you get interrogated by a handsome and dominant personal investigator Warnings: 18+ mdni. dubcon. power imbalance, brat tamer, humiliation, degradation, sir kink, spitting, spanking, oral (m), cockwarming, piv, cum eating No age specified. Pic in mood board for mood only

a/n: this is a contribution to @iamasaddie writing challenge 3.0 💛🫶 prompt: humiliation/Tim Rockford Dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏 @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing and for being you 💕 🫶

“That’s all I have to say, detective,” you concluded with a not so subtle sigh.

You were sitting in front of a desk and the detective was facing you. Rubbing his beard with his thumb. He smiled when he heard you say "detective" in a condescending tone.

“You know ma’am, there is some inconsistency in your testimony.”

“Excuse me? You’re just a private detective. I don't think you have the qualifications to presume any of this.” You had a hard time hiding your annoyance at being there, summoned by that detective to that dingy, dust-covered office. When he asked you to go to that room, you pointedly rolled your eyes as you passed him.

“Well, sorry ma’am, but the information you’re giving me is clearly imprecise. Seems like you’re forgetting some important details.”

“I already told you I have nothing more to say, detective.” He smiled again, and you rolled your eyes even harder than when you had entered the room, then you stood up.

“Sit down.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said, ‘sit down’. I’m not finished.”

The tone in which he talked to you sent a deep shiver down your spine, and you sat back. 

He stood up and took off his black suit jacket, and hung it on the back of his chair. He was wearing a holster over his white shirt and for a moment your eyes lingered on his broad shoulders and neck, then his tie. He walked around the table, passing behind you.

“I need you to be a little more collaborative. I need to see that you are making every possible effort to help this investigation move forward.”

He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his tanned forearms with multiple veins, and your eyes lingered on his body again.

“I already—,” you paused when he took out a tape recorder and pressed ‘play’, leaning towards you from across the table. One palm resting on it. You frowned, annoyed by his behavior. When you heard the moans, the frown turned into shock, then embarrassment.

“Oh, fuck…fuck, I’m gonna come.”

“Come on, soak my cock. Yeah, just like that.”

Only your moans were now audible. Then, the sound of skin slapping against skin.

“You like to be fucked like a whore, uh? Bent over a fucking table?”

“Yes, yes! Fuck me! Harder, please. Please…”

The detective pressed ‘stop’, and put the tape recorder on the table. 

“So, ma’am. I’m afraid I’m going to have to repeat myself. This recording was made the day before the jewelry robbery. In his apartment, where the jewelry was kept in the safe. No one else entered the apartment except you and him.”

“Detective, I... I don’t know what happened to the jewelry.” Hearing the recording had disoriented you, and your tone was much less confident and arrogant. You felt vulnerable. He felt the change in your voice immediately and his smile turned into a grin. He was clearly enjoying the situation more and more, and you, less and less. But his firm tone awakened something in you and you squirmed in your chair.

“Well… Where has your attitude gone, ma’am?” he asked, walking again, and then stood near your chair, arms crossed. Way too close to you.

“I don't allow you to talk to me like-” You started to say in an unsure voice, totally disoriented by the recording and by him, but you stopped again when you saw his bulge, and looked at him, eyes widened.

“Ok, that’s enough now”, you said as you stood up, trying to regain some control, but he grabbed your arm, bringing his face closer, his brown eyes fixed on yours.

“I have enough to call the police, you know. All your little games are gonna amuse them, for sure.”

“Shit”, you said, dropping your gaze to the ground.

“And the problem is that you wasted my time, right? With that tone of yours… how do you plan to fix this?”

“I don’t understand.”

“You came here with a very unpleasant attitude, for someone who doesn't understand things quite well”, he said, stepping back from you, before grabbing his chair and placing it against the opposite wall. He sat there, manspreading. 

“What do you want?”, you asked in a low voice.

“You're really not the smartest, are you? Pleasant to look at, for sure, but a bit dumb, poor thing… Come towards me”, he added. 

You took a step forward, hesitant.

“No”, he said abruptly. You looked at him with confusion, and he added "hands and knees. Like a whore."

The reminder of the recording, his firm voice, the way he was sitting, everything about him exuded dominance and confidence, and you felt your own self-assurance crumbling ever more.

And you don't know what happened in your brain, if his attitude made you short-circuit, but you sure felt the desire soaking your panties. You looked at him, eyes widened. Shocked by his order and by your arousal. By his smirk. As if he knew you wouldn't say no. Your cheeks heated up thinking that he surely had listened to the whole tape. Hearing you being submissive, ready to do anything to have more and more of the cock that ruined your throat and pussy that night. 

He was waiting calmly for you to process what was happening. And what would happen next. He saw you hesitating, and added “unless you want me to call the police? I'm sure they'd love to play “good cop/bad cop” with a brat like you. In your pretty little skirt. So short, it doesn’t leave much to the imagination, mmm?”

He paused, then added, “do as I said. Now.”

And that was it. You knelt down, in your tight skirt and heels, and advanced slowly towards him. Both humiliated and horny. Your back arched and your clit was twitching. Eyes fixed on him. Ashamed to bend so easily, but eager to learn what would happen next. How far he would go, as if you were not in charge anymore. 

When you reached his lap, you sat back on your heels. You looked down at your knees, covered in dust, then looked up at him. Waiting.

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” he asked in a husky voice. You swallowed loudly. It was like he knew exactly what you'd easily dive for.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes…sir?”

“I'm gonna accept it for now. But you will call me "sir" with no hesitation before I'm done with you.” Wetness ruined your panties a little more.

“Follow me. The same way.”

He got up and went to sit at the desk, gathering the entire file in front of him.

“Come here”, he repeated, pointing at his crotch with his chin to show you exactly where he wanted you. And you obeyed, slavishly, as he undid his leather belt and placed it on the table. You slipped under the desk, between his knees.

“Unzip.”

You opened his suit pants, and grabbed his cock. Half hard. Even now, his cock was big, and you tried not to moan. But it slipped from your lips nevertheless.

“In your mouth. Keep me warm while I check what to send to the police.”

A part of you still couldn't believe you were in this situation, in this dingy office, and that the detective was ordering you to act like that. And you couldn’t believe you were about to submit again. To be humiliated again. And that it was turning you on to the point that your pussy was dripping. You even wondered if you would have submitted, even without his threats to call the police. He was hot, way too hot, and everything in him exuded natural dominance. And you didn't really know how to resist all of it. In that office or elsewhere.

So you submitted, and took his warm, thick, heavy cock in your mouth, its weight pressing down on your tongue. You waited and didn’t move, feeling used and dripping for it.

You heard him sorting the papers, keeping some in hand longer. Sometimes you would hear the tip of his pen scratching the paper. You heard him rub his beard. You felt his cock twitch sometimes, but he had impressive self-control. He never got fully hard between your lips. 

Minutes passed and your jaw was getting sore. Your saliva was now running down your chin, as your wetness was flowing from your pussy. Your knees hurt as you were standing on the cement floor, and when you tried to change the position he put his hand on the back of your neck, and told you not to move. His warm skin on yours made you shiver and you didn't move. Letting your knees stiffen in the imposed position.

“Ok, that’s enough”, he said, pulling back after a time you couldn’t evaluate.

You heard a clicking sound when he told you to come out from under the desk, but to remain kneeling. You felt the handcuff bracelets on your wrists, behind your back, then the sound of metal being tightened. “Don’t want your dusty hands on my cock”, he added.

You were facing the table, and he leaned on it, his cock out of his pants. 

“You want that cock?”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Suck it.”

Upright on your knees, he grabbed his cock and held it towards you. Unable to hold back a moan when you felt it again between your lips, before you started sucking him, applying yourself. You loved his taste and loved blowing him, to be on your knees for him, handcuffed, in that room.

“You’re being filmed, you know. And it’s a shame you’re so bad at sucking a dick.”

Petrified, you stopped for a few seconds. But there was no way he was going to make you doubt yourself. You pulled back and placed your tongue flat just above his balls, then licked his shaft towards his tip, twirling your tongue on it. You leaned down again, and licked his balls. They were big, resting heavy under his cock. You thought they must be full of cum, and you couldn't wait for him to fill you with it. Your tongue lapped at their barely hairy skin. He got hard immediately. You looked at him, a slight smirk on your face.

“Open”, he said. “Tongue out.” Then he leaned down slightly, before letting his saliva fall down your chin and into your mouth.

“Swallow. Like a good girl.”

You swallowed, then stuck your tongue out again to show him.

“Suck.”

You approached him and licked the precum that was beading on his tip. Then rounded your lips, trying to take as much of him in your mouth as possible, until your nose brushed against his hair.

“How do you feel, sucking a detective’s cock in his office?”

You looked at him, not daring to stop.

“I kinda like it, when a brat is on her knees for me. Mouth full of my cock.”

He thrust and hit the back of your throat, making you gasp and pull away, coughing.

“Damn. You’re so pathetic.” You stared at the trickle of saliva that linked you to him, the only link between you and his cock, which your mouth was already missing.

“Desperate, mmm? Say “I’m a whore and I just want to get filled by your dick, sir.”

“I’m a whore and I just want to get filled by your dick, sir.” He was right. No hesitation in your voice this time.

“Bend over the desk. Lemme see that cunt.”

You rested your chest against the wooden surface, your hands still bound by the handcuffs behind your back. He placed his hand on your ass, caressing its roundness. Gently, so gently that you closed your eyes for a moment and held your breath.

You didn't see the first spanking coming, and you let out a cry. Then the second, just before he unzipped your skirt. Sliding it slowly from the small of your back to the bottom of your buttocks. The third spanking made you moan, and ruined your panties a little more.

The mixture of sweetness and pain turned you on. Standing behind you, he pressed his cock against your ass. His manwood pressed against you, you only wished to feel his cock in your cunt, pushing your walls.

He grabbed the hem of your skirt and slid it down your hips, then your thighs, through your ankles. Your tights followed. He knelt down to remove these pieces of clothing from your feet. Your ass, covered by your panties, was at his eye level. When he slid them slowly down and your folds got exposed, he hissed softly.

“Alright. I hope you're better at taking a dick than at sucking it.”

He stood up and glided his cock along your soaked folds, making you moan.

“Your cunt is dripping for every man? Or you just like to be humiliated by a detective?”

He slipped his tip into your dripping hole, making you gasp, and stopped.

“Answer me.”

“I… I like to be humiliated and degraded.”

“Beg me to fuck you.”

“Fuck me, sir. Please, please… need your cock.”

“God, you’re so pitiful.”

He sank without stopping, bottoming out, and you whimpered. Full of his cock. He pulled back and thrust all the way in again, then started fucking  you hard and fast, making you moan with every thrust of his hips. Hands clinging to your hips, yours cuffed behind your back, you could only take his cock. Let him use you freely. The desk shook under his thrusts. Tears were beading in the corners of your eyes, as he was growling, spreading your pussy with his shaft.

“Yeah, make a show for the camera. Maybe you’ll have an Oscar for the best drama queen.”

He grabbed your shoulders for more leverage, and was fucking you deep and slow now. His cock was brushing your g spot at every move, and you quickly came on his cock, trembling.

“Such a slut, coming that fast on my cock, uh?”

You were unable to answer, and he sneered, adding “so cuckdumb”, pounding you faster and you were moaning continually, feeling your wetness trickling from your cunt.

He pulled back and looked at your soaking pussy before thrusting in again. “You're so wet, my cock and balls are covered in white, Jesus.”

He grabbed your hips and railed you, chasing his orgasm.

“Say “I’m a whore and I just want to be full of your cum, sir.”

“I’m a whore and I just want to be full of your cum, sir.”

He sneered again, as if you just said the most stupid thing in the world. “Your pussy isn’t good enough to make me cum, I’m gonna have to jerk off,” he spat, before pulling out of your pussy. He grabbed your elbow and made you kneel in front of him.

“Tongue out, open wide.”

You stuck out your tongue, eyes staring into his. He looked at you from his height, eyes frowning. His hand tight on his cock, he jerked off. Strong, slow jerks on his hard, thick cock. And you had already forgotten your pussy clenching over nothing. Now you wanted his cum. So you waited, tongue out. Until he groaned, and the white ropes of cum hit your tongue, your cheeks, your chin. Covering your face with his seed.

“Swallow.” Of course you obeyed.

“Say ”thank you sir.”

“Thank you sir.”

You were exhausted, a little part of you was ashamed. And another part missed feeling him in you already.

He rubbed his tip against your chin, your lips, your cheeks, then he tucked his cock into his clothes.

“So. About the jewelry. Let's start from the beginning. I might need more time to investigate and I'm afraid we’ll have to work closely together again”, he said, and your pussy clenched, begging for more.

***************

Thank you for reading 🙏

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[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 7 - Family Dinner

Pray for Christian. He’s just realizing that he now has two kids, who race every weekend in dangerous cars, only for them to have no life outside said cars. Max might be a little OOC, but ya know – who cares. I know I said that I would post tomorrow but free practice doesn't even start until midnight where I am. So it's going to be pushed back to Friday night at the latest and then a definite post on Sunday. Anyway, enjoy and don’t forget to comment if you want to be added to the tag list.

The entire way to the restaurant, you were almost shaking with anxiety. You knew you would get there 15 minutes early, but would that be too much? Would you be the last one to show up? Vito had texted you that so far, it was only him, Christian and Geri, with Riggs and Lacy. But that couldn’t stop your brain with coming up with worst case scenarios. But, you couldn’t help it. You took a couple of deep breaths as the car pulled up to the restaurant. 

Around the entrance, there seemed to be thousands of reporters and photographers. That made you panic as well. You shot a quick text to Vito, letting him know that you had arrived. You waited in the car until he came out to get you. You noticed that Riggs had decided to come out as well. You only now notice the size difference between him and Vito. The man was massive. PR agent and personal body guard? You were set for life. 

Vito opened the door for you and helped you get out of the car. The moment you were two feet on the concrete, the flashes of the cameras started going off. You tried your best to smile, but it was difficult when you were being blinded by the lights. You mentally laughed at yourself at the Weekend joke. Thankfully, no one grabbed you or anything. It was probably because Riggs had placed his hand on your back and carefully led you inside. No one would get passed that man. 

The ambiance of the restaurant was a stark contrast to that of outside. The lights were dim and there was a live orchestra in the corner. Vito was able to catch up to you before you got to the table. 

“Quite a show that was,” you mentioned as you spotted Christian at a table in the corner. 

“Well, you are trending everywhere on social media kid,” Vito replied as Christian stood up to greet you. 

“Nice to see you again sir,” you said as you shook his hand. 

“And you as well kid. That was sure some entrance.” You let out a small laugh. 

“All I did was walk it. I think I might be blind for the rest of the night. I can still see all the flashes.” A woman, who you recognized as Geri, let out a laugh. You turned to her. 

You obviously wanted to shake her hands for the rest of your life. It wasn’t every day you got to meet Ginger Spice. But you forewent all of that, and settled on a light hug. “It’s an honor to meet you ma’am. I asked Vito if I could have brought something for you to sign, but he said I probably shouldn’t.” You heard a smack of a hand against a forehead. You continued, “But now seeing you in person, I should have brought my entire CD set.” 

Geri and Christian both laughed out loud at your statement. Geri was able to calm you down as she promised that the next time she attended a race, you could bring something. You were able to sit next to her at the table. 

You were definitely fan-girling the entire time. But who cared. Geri was a nice person to keep a conversation with. You were relieved to see some familiar faces already at the table. Mitch was seated across from you with Lacy at her right. Riggs had sat next to his wife while Vito found a seat on the other side of you. The rest of the table was left empty for Max, Checo, and whoever they were going to bring. 

One waiter came to the table and asked for everyone’s drink orders. Because you were only 20 and the drinking age in America is 21, you asked for a water. 

Vito had joked around with the waiter, “Can you bring that in a sippy cup for her? She tends to spill.” A slap to the arm had him shut up as the rest of the table fell into small laughs. 

You argued back, “It’s not my fault that you’re so old. Did you remember to drink your prune juice this morning? I know how grumpy you get if you don’t.” You flashed a wicked smile at him as you took a sip of your drink. 

The adults started to laugh a bit harder. 

The laughter only died down when Christian suddenly stood up and rounded the table. Your eyes followed him and landed on two figures. Your heart picked up as you came to the conclusion that they were Checo and Max. You didn’t know what to do. Should you stand to greet them? Or would that be weird? 

You got your answer when they both just decided to sit down. However, Max was seated directly across from you. There was nowhere for you to hide from his sight. As he got situated, you quickly looked down at your dress and pretended to wipe something from the fabric. But, when you looked up, you made direct eye contact with him. Not wanting to wait for him to do something and come off as rude, you leaned a bit forward and put out your hand. 

“Uh, it’s nice to meet you,” you shyly said as he took your hand in his to return the gesture. 

His accent was a little heavy, “Nice to meet you too. It’s Y/n right?” 

“Yes sir,” you responded, almost a little too quickly. But Max had a questioning look before huffing and waving his hands. 

“There’s no need for that, kid.” He picked up his drink and took a sip. “You shouldn’t be much younger than me, no?” 

“Uh, six years younger,” you muttered. A choked sound came from across the table, which got everyone’s attention. Your cheeks heated as everyone looked at the two of you. 

“Is everything all right Max?” Christian asked, a look of concern on his face. 

Max points at you, “Where’d you find this – this..” you thought he was about to insult you. You winced at the thought. Except he finally finished sputtering, “literal child. She called me sir.” He all but whined the last sentence. 

Christian spoke up, “Well that child beat your 7 year time record for the practice track.” He took a sip of his drink as everyone’s eyes fell on you. 

“Uh, I didn’t mean to?” You wanted to die, but you continued, “I think I could have done better but there’s was something off on Turn five, but we said it was the…”

“Balance,” Max finished your sentence, nodding his head. “I’ve been trying to tell them to fix that.” 

You shrugged, “It wasn’t bad though.” 

“Did you slow down on the curve?” 

“Yep, and accelerated coming out of the apex.” Max gave you a giant smile. Cars and racing he could talk about.

“How did you feel about the steering?” he questioned, hands coming above the table. You soon found yourself doing that as well. 

“Eh, it was ok, but it was a bit understeery?” you didn’t want to go insulting his car, but you had a preference. 

“Oh my gosh, I know. I had that problem the entire season.”   

Everyone around you two knew that the moment the hands went above the table and were being flung everywhere, there was no stopping the two of you. They practically had to tell you both to shut up so that the table could start talking of other things and order the food. Your cheeks heated up when they pointed out your rambling. 

“Sorry,” you muttered, going back to your drink. 

“It’s fine kid. I’ve had to deal with Max for years. I think I can deal with it again,” Christian said as the waiters brought out the food. The Dutchman across from you rolled his eyes at the statement, which caused you to laugh. 

He was actually a joy to talk to. You were able to finally greet Checo a little bit into the actual dinner. You didn’t know whether to say you were sorry he was retiring or to congratulate him. So you kind of did both. 

Oh well. 

Throughout the meal, discussions of next season came up along with the car. Christian was pleased to know that the both of you preferred an oversteer car. Yes, the car would still be more towards Max’s preferences, but you could work with it. You knew that you would be second driver. But you honestly didn’t care. 

“I know how to play the teammate. I’m not looking for a championship right now. I’m just glad to be here,” you told Max and Christian. “Of course, I’m going to fight for a win, because that’s what I know to do. But I’m not going to block if Max is going to be faster than me.” 

The two men nodded, thankful for a person like you. There weren’t many people who would willingly give up wanting to be first driver. But you understood this. 

As long as Max Verstappen was in a Red Bull, he will be driver number one. The rest of the dinner went smoothly. As everyone was standing to leave, Christian announced that everyone was welcome to join them at a club. All the adults seemed to cheer as if they forgot that you technically couldn’t go. 

You didn’t mean to show disappointment, but Max picked up on it. The math was mathing as he put two and two together. 

“I think I’m going to skip out tonight. Not really feeling it.” His accent was heavy as he put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. 

You and Max somehow found yourself at the back of the group. He leaned down and semi-whispered to you. 

“Do you want to go get some ice cream?” 

You face must have lit up as he mirrored you with a smile. Max offered to drive you to the place. You quickly said goodbye to Vito, before promising that you’d text him when you got back to the hotel. You followed behind Max, trying to keep up with his long strides. The heels and long dress were making it difficult, but you managed.

When you got to his car, he popped the door open for you because you weren’t able to figure out the handle. You weren’t used to the expensive super-cars. Yes, the cars you drove were nice, but not millions of dollars nice. 

“You can play some music if you’d like to,” Max mentioned as he began to drive out of the parking garage. 

“Famous last words Max,” you said as you scrolled through your playlist. A familiar 33 caught you attention. You bit your lip trying not to smile. “I really like the thought and meaning behind this one. Super nice vibes. Very rememberable.” 

“Oh? Well then play it.” 

You snorted at his innocence. The moment the familiar beats came on, he looked at you with a face of betrayal. 

“You did not.” 

“I did too. It’s a very catchy tune Max.” He reached out and pressed the off button. 

“I’m revoking your DJ privileges.” Now it was your turn to look at him with a face of betrayal. 

“You did not.”  

“I did too. If you can’t play something nice, you won’t play anything at all.” 

“What would you play? Some oldie from 1953?” 

He snorted before putting his eyes back on the road. “I am not that old.” 

“Sure.” 

“We’re in the same generation Y/n.”

You argued back, “You’re on the fine line of millennial and gen z. You probably post memes on Facebook like an old lady.” 

The two of you fell in silence, before you busted out laughing. Max started to wheeze, which made you laugh even harder and clap your hands like a seal. By the end of the drive, you were wiping tears from your eyes. 

A bright ice cream cone lit up the sky at the car approached the store. You were able to get out of the car since the handle was much easier to figure out than the outside one. Max held the door of the shop for you and waited. He got curious when you didn’t directly come in. 

He found his answer when he saw you kneel next to a cat to pet it. He was surprised that it let you touch it. After you were done, you stood up and flashed a sheepish smile at him, muttering an apology for keeping him waiting. 

“I just love cats,” you sighed, looking at the kitty outside with heart eyes. 

Max fished his phone from his pocket. He quickly put in the password. His fingers quickly found the giant album just for his cats on the photos app. He handed his phone to you. 

“This is Jimmy and this is Sassy. What do you want and I’ll get it for you. You can keep looking.” You barely muttered a response, too enthralled with the gorgeous creatures on the screen. Max chucked as he went to get the ice cream. 

You were too busy swiping through all of the pictures. They were both so pretty. Max had to nudge you to hand you your cone. 

“Thank you for letting me see these,” you traded the phone for the cone. 

“No problem. If you ever find yourself in Monaco, you can come over to see them.” Your eyes seemed to twinkle at the thought of meeting his cats. “Do you have any?” 

You seemed to deflate at the topic of you being cat-less. “No, I’m away most of the year and I live by myself. My apartment is in Nice, but I think I’m going to move somewhere else.” 

Max’s eyebrows creased, “Does your family not live close?” 

You deflated even more. “No. To be honest, I don’t talk to my family. Like ever. I’m an only child as well so no siblings.” You kind of just shut up after that. Max felt awful. He knows that you probably know a lot about him. But he never thought to look up anything about you. 

He wanted to talk, but you continued, “But it’s fine. Racing is my life and takes up 100% of my time.” Max knew that it wasn’t fine. Racing was his life too, but he had friends and family to keep him company. He had Kelly and P, Christian, Lando, (maybe) Charles. He could try to convince you to find a small apartment in Monaco so he could keep an eye on you. 

He takes a moment to really see you. Right now, you weren’t a piece of art of you were almost face deep in your ice cream. This made you look younger than you were. And that hurt Max’s heart. His dad might be awful, but he still talked to him. 

He must have zone out because your talking brought him out of it. 

“Are you excited to race in Vegas?” you ice cream was almost gone.

Max shrugged, “It’s going to be difficult, since it’s cold. I’m worried about the grip of the tires.” 

You thought for a moment, “Well, if you get far enough ahead, you could always swerve to warm them up further. I know that would cut down on speed, but you’d be able to take the corners a bit better.” 

“How are you feeling about free practice one tomorrow.” Your eyes were now lit up once again, and Max is glad to see you perked up. 

“I am so excited. Did you hear that they’re going to do the walk up announcements again?” Max shook his head, (he actually did but wanted to hear you explain). “Well, they’re doing it and I have the perfect song, if I get announced.” You pouted. “Do ‘reserve drivers’ get announced?” 

“I don’t know. But I will make sure that you get one.” He put a hand on you shoulder. 

You squealed and thanked him. “I am a bit nervous about the lap times though.” 

Max suddenly hunched as to tell you a secret. “What you have to do is before you go into the flying lap, heat your tires to the max.” 

“Max, max, max, super max.” He deadpanned. “Sorry, continue.” 

“You have to push the throttle a couple of times right before you go to get the wheels spinning. The more they spin, the more friction they’ll have on the track, and the more they will heat.” (a.n. guys I don’t know if this is correct. I’m a writing major not engineering. But, more friction, more heat – I took one physics class so call me professor). 

“Aaahhhhh,” you had a far out look, contemplating the precious information you’ve been given. You wanted to talk about something other than racing. “How’s your family?” 

It was now Max’s turn for his eyes to light up. He brought out his cellphone again to show you more pictures. Some were of him and Kelly. Others of him and P. It was when he got to the drivers, you started to panic. 

“Do you think they’ll like me?” you mutter, suddenly finding you dress more interesting. Max looked at you with a confused face. 

“Kid, I’ve known you for,” he looked at his watch, “three hours now and I think I want you as my teammate for the rest of my carrier. Don’t worry, they will love you.” 

You let out a sigh of relief. 

“I just, don’t want to make a fool out of myself.” 

“You won’t, kid. You won’t.” 

After the topic passed, and Max finally finished his mess of the remainders of his ice cream, the two of you made you way back to his car. He made sure that you had texted Vito that you were back at the hotel when he dropped you off. Thankfully, his hotel wasn’t that far away. 

“Good night Max. I will see you tomorrow teammate.” You winked. 

“See you tomorrow, teammate.” You started to walk away before you remembered something. 

You rushed back over to the car and knocked on the window. Max quickly rolled it down and leaned over the dash. “Is something wrong?” 

“Which song are you picking? For the announcements? Because I think you should totally go with Max 33 or Super Max, or to annoy more people, the Dutch anthem.” 

Max only chuckled and rolled the window up. Not giving you an answer. He could see you in the mirror flailing your arms as he left. He would see you tomorrow. 

The first thing Max did when he got to his hotel was get changed. After that, he needed to make a quick phone call. 

He clicked on the contact and waited for the person to pick up. The phone didn’t even ring twice before the sound of the call being accepted filled the quiet room. 

Kelly’s face filled the tiny screen. 

She was the first one to speak, “Hi baby.” Max gave her a sleepy smile. “How was dinner.” 

“Oh it was great. I got to meet the rookie.” Kelly leaned her head on her hand. 

“How did it go?” 

“It was great Kels. I see myself so much in this kid.” 

“Is that a good thing?” 

“Yep. How do you think Penelope will feel about getting a sister? I’m already looking at how to adopt a teenager.” 

Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne @leilanixx @angsthology @digitalizeduniqueness @topguncultleader @landosgirlxoxo @gods-menace @itsjustkhaos @thefandomswhre @alwaysboredsworld @vellicora @bintuabbas @sam-is-lost @empress-kimiko @assholeinatrenchcoat @kagatinkita @glitterquadricorn @zyonsay @tsukishimawhore @treehouse-mouse @ashy-kit @lilypadlover

[pocket-watcher]

The following is a collab between myself and the amazing @blissful23 !

Ding-Dong

The doorbell sounded and Suzie looked up from styling her long, blonde hair in the mirror. This always happens when she’s just getting ready to go out! She had readjusted the shirt she had “borrowed” from her roommate, as it was slightly too tight, checked her eyeliner was even for the 50th time, and was just finishing her lipstick with a satisfied pop.

She sighed frustratedly, stood up, and made her way to the source of the offending sound. Opening the front door, she was greeted by a man she’d never seen before. Dark hair and - oh God - a curled moustache framed a sharp featured face, adorned with a rather ostentatious top hat. Finely attired in a black suit, jacket resplendent with coattails, he gave a slight bow in greeting. It took all her willpower not to outright laugh in the face of this antiquity standing before her.

“Good day ma’am, it’s a fine afternoon, is it not?”

She stood, arms crossed in exaggerated frustration, staring back at him.

“How can I help you… Sir?”

She put the extra emphasis on that last word, wishing him to know quite pointedly that she was being interrupted. He smiled in return - whether it was sincere or strained in response to her standoffishness, she couldn’t tell.

“Well, you see my dear, I’m selling these very fine pocketwatches.”

With exaggerated flourish, he swept his coat open, revealing a dazzling array of pocketwatches hanging on the inside of it. He held it in place, and as if by magic - more likely the momentum of him opening his coat, she thought to herself - each of the pocketwatches begun swinging in unison. Probably a bit of showmanship designed to wow a potential customer, but still, it was fascinating to watch as they swung back and forth, back… and forth… back…

Suzie shook her head, dispelling a sudden onset of light-headedness, and redressed her gaze to The Salesman. He pulled his coat closed and smiled once more. A little less sure of her cold reception to him initially, she spoke again.

“Those are very lovely, but… I have no real need of a pocketwatch.” She said, gesturing to her phone.

“Ah, but my dear, you didn’t even take notice of our finest model!”

She bristled inwardly at being addressed as “my dear” again, and fixed her gaze to the pocketwatch he was now dangling in front of her face. It was silver, hooked by a long thin strap. The outer shell had some sort of pattern cut out of it to reveal the clock face behind, but with the shell popped open she couldn’t quite tell what was meant to be on the front. The spindling hands on the clock ticked away excitedly.

“Look at this gorgeous embedded crystal, and how it changes in the light! Let me swing it so you can see how it changes colour in the light…”

As he began swinging it from side to side, her jaw almost instantly fell agape at the sight of it, finding herself unable to draw her soft, blue eyes away from it.

"So many colours! Which colour do you prefer?" 

It was so hard to decide. So many splendid, beautiful colours to pick from. She tried to follow them as they shifted moment to moment. It was hard to think of a favourite. So hard to think… was all Suzie’s mind could muster for the moment, her thoughts, plans for the day, all of them fading away, replaced by her fascination with the tantalising kaleidoscope dancing before her eyes.

"I, uhh.... c-colours..."

The Salesman smiled wide. It wasn’t always this easy, but they all ended up this way eventually.

"Yes, pretty colours... and as each one shines, your worries and cares fade just that little bit more..."

Not having to think and just being able to enjoy the colours did sound nice to Suzie. Joyous, even; and she allowed herself a little giggle at the suggestion. She tried to help him how wonderful that sounded, but her mind was already so devoid of thought, all she could utter was:

"Hee-hee… colours...!"

Knowing he had her right where he wanted her, The Salesman followed on with his scheme.

“Can you hear the ticking? No? Maybe you should invite me inside where it’s quieter so you can really focus in on the sound…”

Had she heard the ticking? She wasn’t sure. Probably best to listen to him. A dull, errant thought in the back of Suzie’s near-blank mind warned that this was a bad idea, but was immediately overruled by the obedient thrall she found herself in.

"Uhhh… Won't you... nghh... won't you... please come in..."

“My dear, I thought you’d never ask…”

—

As he stepped through the doorway, another voice could be heard deeper inside.

“Suzie? You haven’t seen my top, have you? The low-cut one with the ruffles - oh.”

Suzie’s roommate Miranda - a stunning redhead - entered the room. Always a favourite, those, The Salesman thought to himself. She stopped upon seeing him eyeing her.

“Uh… hello. And you are?” Miranda asked, curiously, confused at the way Suzie stood there smiling blankly at her.

“He’s… He sells… pocketwatches…” Suzie answered for the strange man.

“Yes, and I’m so pleased to make your acquaintance. Would you like to take a look, my dear?”

“No, thank you. We,” Miranda looked sternly at Suzie, “are actually running late. So if you’ll excuse us…”

Suzie didn’t move, however. As Miranda went to grab her arm she simply smiled up at her.

“But… They’re so pretty…” She said, as if she struggled with every word.

The Salesman pulled out the watch. “See for yourself.”

Miranda looked at him, exacerbated, before huffing, turning back to Suzie in confusion. 

“Come on. We’re leaving.”

"But they’re so pretty..." Suzie whined. “Just take a closer look. You know you want to…”

Miranda looked. She couldn’t see anything special about this pocketwatch. Though, truth be told, she was struggling to take in any of the details as she tried to follow it with her hazel eyes. If only this guy would stop swinging it in front of her… back… and forth… and…

“What, are you trying to hypnotise me into buying one or something?” She laughed. But, then, she thought…

Looking at her usually headstrong friend standing quietly with her eyes tracking the watch’s every movement, everything seemed to click into place.

“Aha… w-wait. You’re not… You’re not actually trying to… right…?” 

Miranda was getting nervous, hiding it behind laughter. No. Of course he wasn’t. Hypnosis wasn’t real.

“My God, you are trying to hypnotise… me, aren’t you? And what have you done to Suzie? I’ve had enough of this, please leave.”

The Salesman frowned at this, placing his watch back inside of his jacket. She was going to be tougher. Luckily, he liked a challenge. Reaching into his jacket once more, his fingers brushed along the watches until he found… yes. Perfect.

“But my dear, you haven’t seen our Timepiece de Resistance…” He pulled out a small golden watch. Its chain was more detailed than the other, with a texture almost like woven vines. The numbers were roman numerals. Or were they? Miranda couldn’t tell. 

Shit. She’d been staring at it, hadn’t she?

Miranda covered her eyes and turned away,

“We call it that because it’s the Timepiece that causes all your resistance to melt away…”

His voice was deep in her brain now. It was so… so tempting to look back at him. And Suzie’s pleasant hums of approval weren’t helping.

“No, I won’t… you’re not going to… hypno… hypnotise… me…” Miranda managed, looking up to see Suzie had walked over to her. 

“Go on… just a little look… it would feel so good, Miranda…” Suzie spoke softly, almost dreamlike.

Then another thought hit her. If Suzie could sneak up on her, this guy could be anywhere! She had to check for certain if he was still between them and the door. 

She looked up at him and her attention was captured by the watch once more.

“Get… get out…” Miranda said as firmly as she could manage.

“Please calm down… You don’t need to be so on edge, so angry… Maybe you didn’t get enough sleep last night…”

Her eyes started to droop. All this fighting was exhausting. The only easy thing right now was keeping her eyes on that watch.

“No, I… I don’t need to… sleep… I’m completely…” She tried to stifle a yawn “… Awake…”

“We both know that’s not true, my dear… Look at you. You’re struggling to stay awake. You can barely keep your eyes open…”

Her hands, once balled into fists, were now relaxed and hung limply by her side. Miranda found herself struggling to keep her eyes open.

“No… I’m not - yawn - sleepy…”

The man approached her, guiding her over to the couch, where Suzie had, at some point, also had found herself.

“There’s no need to fight it anymore… You want to give in to it… You want to surrender to slumber…”

“Surrender… to slumber…” Miranda felt a smile grow on her own face as she repeated after him, her weary eyelids now stuck at half-mast. 

“That’s it…” He looked at his pocket watch. Another job well done.

“Well, ladies, it appears I may have lost track of time.” He chuckled, leading the girls to giggle mindlessly… although, they weren’t quite sure why they were laughing. But Master was so funny, wasn’t he?

“I’ll just leave this here.” The Salesman said as he placed a business card on the coffee table in front of them. “In case you know anyone else who might appreciate my services, hm?” 

He watched as Suzies head slowly slumped onto Miranda’s shoulders, both girls blissfully asleep. He straightened his hat, closed the door behind him, and moved onto the next house.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : dad!Lee Minho x F!Reader TW : childbirth ; slighty suggestive humor once ; it's just fluffy ; it's cute ; Word Count : 1.9k Request : Anonny : okay but i really like that minho pregnancy angst…. do you plan on making part 2 like the after reunited life, her parents’ response or anything? like the post natal life, the moment he held his daughter for the very first time hihi is it too much to ask??? A/N : I absolutely DO plan on making a part two and here it is!! Woohoo!!! Thank you for requesting! It's definitely not too much to ask! Also! I got so choked up writing this, it made me so happy and at the same time so sad that I don't have a man like the fictional Minho in this story!!!

“I’ll be right back, love. I’m just gonna call the guys and let them know she’s here so they won’t make my phone go off all night.” He whispered as softly as possible, not wanting to wake his daughter that he had just laid in the little cot beside your hospital bed. You hummed tiredly in response, already nestling into the pillow that definitely wasn’t as soft as the ones you had at home, but right now, after 12 hours of active labor and a slightly wonky epidural, the entire hospital bed was like laying on a cloud.

 Minho couldn’t be prouder though, seeing you go through all of that, he commended every woman who had ever been in labor, and after checking the time and seeing how early in the morning it was, he made a mental reminder to call his mother and thank her for having him. 

Stepping outside of the room, he leaned against the wall and took a deep breath, his throat still slightly sore from crying when he had first laid eyes on his daughter, tears of happiness streaming down his face, unable to pull his eyes away from her as the doctors carried her over to the little table to clean her up. He was grateful that he had been given a second chance, that he got to hold your hand through the entire process, that he was able to be in the room when his daughter was brought into the world, and he swore that he wouldn’t mess up and he sure as hell would never leave again. 

“Minho…” His name had him finally looking around the hall, meeting eyes with your father and your mother who sat in the waiting chairs beside your door. He hadn’t seen your father since the day he had pushed the door shut against him, and while he had been meaning to meet up with your parents to apologize for the way he had been, he had just never gotten around to it. “How is our daughter and our granddaughter? Are they resting?” 

Minho quickly bowed his head to your parents, acknowledging them with a quiet “Sir…” and “Ma’am”, the awkwardness felt between the two hung in the air like a thick cloud that could be felt by everyone in the vicinity. “They’re both doing great… Y/N is getting some rest right now, yes, and the baby is sleeping.” He kept his head lowered, slightly fearful of looking your dad in the eyes. “I’d like to apologize… For the way that I behaved… For hurting Y/N. I love her so much… And our daughter will take top priority over everything else.” 

He finally raised his head, and when he did, he saw your father staring at him, it almost felt like he was being judged, but your mother shook her head, standing from her chair to embrace Minho in a quick hug. “Now, don’t you pay attention to him right now. He’s just grumpy because it’s past his bedtime.” She teased, and it was strange how your mothers presence and her words, much like your own, could so easily calm him down and make him feel relaxed. “I’m happy that Y/N has you, and that our granddaughter has you as her father. I know that you’ll take great care of them both. Welcome to the family.” 

///

“Are you just gonna carry her around all the time?” You asked lightly as you watched Minho walk by, your daughter seemed to be in a perpetual state of being carried by him in the little sling that was across his chest. “It’s been three weeks and the only time you put her down is when you use the bathroom or when you go to bed. You’re gonna spoil her.” You warned, but you also wanted to hold your daughter as well. Hell, you even had to practically race to the nursery to be the one to get her in the middle of the night since that was the only time you actually got to hold her since being in the hospital. 

“And? Our princess deserves to be spoiled, doesn’t she?” He flashed you your favorite smile before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Plus I go back to work next week, let me just love her a bit longer. I won’t be able to see her as much.” He was right, and you knew that he was dreading when this week was up, that’s why he stayed up so late, as if the longer he was awake it would keep the coming days at bay. 

You couldn’t blame him though, you’d do the same thing. Neither of you could fully wrap your head around how fast time had gone, you couldn’t believe that it had already been three weeks since you had given birth to her. You could see it in his eyes, with each passing day he’d get sadder and sadder, and you felt the same way. The house wouldn’t be the same without him in it, and you actually grew used to the sight of him walking around the house, doing his daily activities with your daughter strapped to his chest. 

“Well it’s almost her feeding time, can you at least let me hold her for fifteen minutes or so?” You posed, sitting up a little more on the couch and grabbing the little burp cloth off the side to drape over your shoulder as you got ready to have her in your arms. 

“Just whip your boob out and come over here. Or I’ll bring her to your boob.” He said with a snort, and you rolled your eyes as your head fell back against the couch. “Don’t be so shy, love. I was suckin’ on ‘em before she came.” He teased, and maybe it was the fact that you were now a mom that had you growing extremely embarrassed at the mention of your sex life, but you quickly shushed him as your hands moved to cover your face which only had him laughing even more. “I’m like 99.9% sure she doesn’t know what I’m talking about. But, I’ll cover her ears if it makes you feel better.” 

“Oh my gosh, shut up, Minho.” You groaned, but you couldn’t hide the fact that you were laughing as well, and the more you thought about how it would be after the week was up, the more you started to miss him already, and he hadn’t even gone back to work yet. 

///

Pink balloons were tied to every single chair that was set up in the backyard. The buffet table was lined with snacks and drinks for everyone that was there, although you didn’t really anticipate so many people to show up. The grill was fired up already and Bangchan and Felix had begun making the main course for the party while everyone else kind of took turns helping you decorate and ogling at your daughter. 

“Have you seen Minho?” You asked Jisung as he stepped out of the house, multiple beer cans held in both his hands and under his arms as he walked over to you. Your eyes had scanned over everyone that had filled your backyard multiple times and none of those times had your eyes landed on your husband in the crowd. 

“When I came outside he was sitting on the couch. I think he was crying a bit…” Jisung said, his lips drawing together in a thin line after he had answered. This wasn’t the first time he had done it, and according to the guys, the entire week leading up to today he’d disappear during work and one of them would usually find him hiding somewhere and crying by himself. 

“Right… Can you and the boys help finish setting everything up. I’m almost done… I just don’t want to leave him by himself.” Jisung nodded and you quickly scooped your daughter up, holding her on your hip as you walked into the house, and there he was. His head was lowered and you could hear the sniffles coming from where he sat. As you moved closer you could see the photo album of your daughter's first year sitting on his lap, his hands shakily flipping through the pages one by one. “Honey…” You murmured, and his head slowly raised to look at you, his eyes puffy and slightly red when they met yours. 

“Sorry…” He muttered, and you shook your head at his apology, coming closer to sit on the couch beside him, your daughter propped on your lap. His finger slipped into her hand, her own tiny fingers wrapping around it as she waved his hand around, babbling loudly as she looked up at him. “When did she get so big?” He questioned with a small gasp, his head tilted as he watched her with a bittersweet smile. 

You sighed softly, the sudden urge to cry taking hold of you as you looked at him. “She’s not that big yet… She’s still our baby…” You mused, trying your best to not only make him feel better, but to keep yourself from crying along with him. You glanced over at the book on his lap, scanning over the pictures on the page. “Oh, I remember that…” 

His eyes followed yours and he chuckled, although it sounded more sad than usual. “Our tour in Australia and… I refused to be away from you two for a whole month… So me and the guys at the last minute begged the managers to let you both go.” Most of the pictures were of the other members holding her and in most of them she looked like she was on the verge of crying. “She was only 6 months old… It’s only been 6 months since then…” His fingers brushed over the picture of himself holding her, his smile so wide as he sat on the beach with her, his tears freely falling down his cheeks as the memory played over in his mind. 

“And we have so many more months, so many years to keep making more memories with her…” You whispered, using one of your free hands to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Like today… She only gets a first birthday once, honey. I’m sure that when she looks back at her photos, she’ll want you to be in the pictures too.” 

He took a deep shaky breath, nodding his head before running his hands over his face. “Right… You’re right…” He slowly closed the book, placing it on the coffee table before grabbing your daughter off your lap and lifting her high in the air before bringing her back down and hugging her tight against his chest, eliciting a loud squeal mixed with laughter from her. “My princess is ready to party and so am I, let’s go!” 

His hand held onto hers as he playfully danced his way out to the backyard, the cheers from everyone at his and your daughters appearance were loud enough to be heard in the living room where you still sat, your eyes glued to the back of your husband as he practically skipped down the stairs, innocently dodging everyone who came towards him with their arms outstretched to take the baby. 

Minho was the perfect man, the perfect husband, the perfect father. There was no one else in the world that you could imagine loving you or your daughter the way he did, there was no one else in the entire universe who was everything a man should be, everything anyone would want their man to be… Minho was the most amazing, loving, devoted husband and father, and you were beyond grateful that he had come back into your life, that you had gotten a second chance with him, and more than anything, that your daughter was able to live a life with him as her father.

[reenthinks]

[5:43]

It was day one of the Don Quixote Music Video shoot and you were planning on visiting your boyfriend.

Once you arrived at the shoot location, you saw Mingyu playing around with a piano while they were waiting to shoot the next scene. He looked lost in his own world and you admired him from afar. Despite his looks and build, he had this air of innocence about him. Somehow, he looked adorable and ethereal at the same time.

You quietly made your way towards him, putting a finger to your lips when a couple other members spotted you.

Reaching him, you leaned down and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. He looked startled for a moment, immediately turning around and breaking into a wide grin when he saw it was you.

“I thought I smelled you.”

“You’re so weird,” you chuckled, sitting down on the bench next to him, a hand making its way into his hair. He seemed to melt into you, sighing as you scratched his favorite spot.

“What? You smell nice.” He pouts and you just can’t help it. He’s so pretty and tall and he smells so good and on top of that, he’s pulled out that stupid pout he knows you go weak for. So you kiss him. Slow and sweet. A little awkward as you’re both biting back smiles and miserably failing.

You could’ve kissed forever if not for the lack of oxygen or the director calling for them to shoot the next scene. Pulling apart, it was your turn to pout.

“You know, there’s thirteen of you, I don’t think anyone will notice if one’s missing.” You say, pulling him by his neck for another kiss.

“Mhmm….I think….we both know….it’s the first thing…..anyone….will notice.” He says between pecks.

Kissing him one last time, you pull away. “Fine. Go before I change my mind.”

He laughs. “Yes ma’am.”

“Don’t call me ma’am.”

“Yes sir.”

“Hurry up.”

“I love you! Be back soon!” You smile as he walks to the set.

“You guys are insufferable.” Soonyoung says from somewhere behind you.