#Is that why I always need to be doing something at work even when we have nothing left to do and then spend the rest of the day in bed
Text
DAY-SHIFT. (p. sh)
― part one here!
After finding out that your boss has seen, heard, and instructed you through some pleasurable nights while parading around as a faceless cam-boy, you decide that your best course of action is to: call out sick. use vacation days. avoid Park Sunghoon at all costs. Unfortunately, ten days doesn’t appear to be nearly enough time to erase what’s happened, and Sunghoon refuses to be avoided.
or the one where sunghoon pretends that he isn’t an anxious mess over accidentally exposing himself and you just so happen to have a lot of fucking empathy.
minors dni
PAIRING ― boss / cam boy!sunghoon x afab reader
WORDCOUNT― 14.5k
CONTENT― forbidden office romance kind of, smidge of angst if ur sensitive, mentions of predatory behavior from sunghoon, he is more desperate than he is dominant, just the way we like it.
NOTE ― bro im so sorry this took way too long to write, it also is way longer than it's supposed to be. but yknow. i had to do him right lmfao. NOT PROOF READ.
nsfw tags under cut
nsfw tags― perverted sunghoon, heavy petting, making out, foreplay on a chair lol, desk sex, very intimate shit ok? ok., pussy eating, jerking off, finger fucking, fingers-in-mouth antics, gagging, implications of something more than just an office fling, unprotected sex, he fills you UP!!! YIPEE!!!
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Avoidance.
That is the only way you know out of any awkward or unsavory situation. Avoid, avoid, avoid. Find a new job, change your name, dye your hair– question all of your life choices up to this point.
It’s the fact that never in your life have you had an interest in live sex cams. It was always just a porn video or a nice erotic novel for you. Sometimes curiosity gets the best of you though, like it does all people, and it’s not like you thought anyone would ever know who you are or catch you in the act of feeding into your curiosities.
The one time you ever navigated to the live camera feed on your favorite porn site did shift your sexual appetite a little bit. A whole new world of seeing exactly what you want without needing to search for far too long for that perfect video…for a cost, of course.
You made good money already, and it’s not like you weren’t going for that promotion at the time either. You thought, why not? Why not pay a pretty, faceless man for some anonymous jerking off and move on with your life?
The one time you found something to satiate the late night body-cravings, the point of pleasure ended up being…your boss?
Small world? Miniscule, fucking tiny little world.
For days you wondered if Sunghoon’s text to you was just a coincidence. After all, the faceless man on screen didn’t say a word to you after you uttered the name of your boss. Even if he directly said your name. Even if Park Sunghoon uttered your false name at work.
Consistent back and forth in your head. From, “No, how could that even be possible? No way is it him.” to “but Mr.Park started being weird after the first call, he used both names, he played off of the boss/employee dynamic.”
You’re going crazy as you send another email to your department, apologizing for taking so many days off but not truly apologetic. It’s been ten days now and Sunghoon has yet to text you again.
That little “Can we talk?” can be heard in your head in his voice. Only now recognizing how clear and unique it truly is when he does speak. You try not to realize how similar the cam-boy sounded to him. Only connecting the dots when they force you to do it, really. You still try to convince yourself that the text was about firing you, given his actions at work that very same day.
Maybe he was avoiding you because he felt awful about needing to fire you?
Maybe he sent that text message to start the process of pushing you out?
After all, it’s still very difficult to imagine Park Sunghoon having a cock that nice, or cum in that amount. Given, it’s not like you ever thought about him jerking off or anything, it’s just–
You don’t fucking know. Your brain is a mess of shaking anxiety and echoes of sexual frustrations and moans.
You were refunded your money. He texted after the session. He said your name. It’s him, isn’t it?
You refuse to fucking find out.
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
From:...[ [email protected] ]
CC:...[ [email protected] ]
BCC:...
Subject: Time off Request: Rejected. Insufficient PTO.
[insert your name here],
The time you have requested from the 27th to the 3rd has been rejected due to insufficient hours. As of last Thursday, you are no longer meeting the minimum hour requirement as a full-time employee. Your PTO is at 0 hours and 00 minutes and you now have three unexcused absences. Please return tomorrow with a signed order or note that exempts you from work. If you move forward without returning to the building, this will be grounds for termination. Please review the company handbook and job abandonment guidelines.
Additionally, COO Lee, myself, and Division manager Park will be scheduling a meeting with you in the upcoming days, failure to appear will result in immediate termination.
Thank you,
HR
Well, fuck. You knew the time to avoid this would dry up, and this ten day hideaway to fake your death didn’t quite pan out.
Devastating, truly, that you have to walk through those doors with the same legs your boss may or may not have seen spread open for him through a grainy webcam image. Horrifying, that you have to look him in the eye and explain that you really were sick for the past ten days, that you definitely were not hiding the shame of your sexual desires.
The worst part about all of this? Not just the embarrassment but the fact that…you liked it. On that night, had he admitted it was him, you may not have ended the call yourself. It felt like it added some danger to your arousal at the time. Which, naturally, makes you more embarrassed now. Mostly because, at worst if that was Mr.Park, it was predatory. At best though? You very well may have consented.
But the what ifs don’t matter now. The only thing that matters is forcing yourself through the awkwardness of being at work after avoiding it for so long already.
Fortunately for you though, work is…weirdly normal. In fact, no one acts like you’ve missed ten days at all. You are greeted by the usual co-workers, you sit down at your desk and can log in as usual, and there are no warning emails or invitations for what would be considered a meeting of termination either.
The day goes by just fine, suspiciously so. Sunghoon, though you’re avoiding him at the moment, doesn’t appear to be too out of character either. At one point, you were forced to drop corrected paper work off in his office, and he gave you the same usual and small “Thank you” before you stepped out with your legs threatening to buckle.
Then again, his “casual” appreciation could just be your mind playing positive little tricks on you. Maybe it wasn’t casual at all. Maybe that little uncharacteristic breath afterwards isn’t just in your head. You didn’t make eye contact with him during that brief moment, and you did rush out quite quickly so you wouldn’t really know. However, in the deepest part of your brain his voice really does match the one who said all those dirty things to you.
Maybe you’re still overreacting.
Or maybe you dreamed all of this up.
You choose to remain unaware of the awkwardness around you solely because everything else is normal. Deep, deep down, you know. But you’re not giving that truth a chance to thrive or run your brain anymore.
And just as the day comes to an end, you’re actually feeling better. Anxiety is draining out of you, fear and embarrassment sit dormant in some hidden part of your brain over the small possibility of virtually fucking your boss. It seems you’ve let this work day clear up all of that fear in your head.
You were wrong, right? It wasn’t him, right? He’d have tried to defend himself by now. What boss wouldn’t be absolutely terrified that you’d report him, anyway? After all of that?
You actually feel a little dumb at the possibility of Mr. Park ever wanting you sexually, or ever even wanting to speak to you in that way. Asking to see your pussy? Telling you how to touch it? No, that’s definitely not him. Couldn’t be him.
And your eyes do stray after a little while. Just to steal glimpses into his office, feeling relieved and weightless now that it appears your fears are over and finally understood. Doesn’t change the fact that now when you look at him, you might be wildly fucking attracted to him. Because fuck, imagine if that was him. You’re kind of forced to put his image to the faceless cam-boy now, not that you want to do that or anything. It just…you can’t really blame yourself for it.
You lend yourself a little laugh. As happy as you are that you’re able to convince yourself that it’s not Sunghoon’s cock you’ve yearned for, you really wouldn’t mind sleeping with someone as handsome as him.
Crazy how the lack of anxiety lets you think those types of things though, isn’t it? When your brain is no longer fogged by fear or embarrassment, it’s like the clarity can sometimes be scarier simply because you don’t know how true certain statements are. Even through all of that fear, maybe a part of you wished it was him.
Even with the weight on your shoulders lifted, in hindsight, maybe you’re even a little disappointed that it wasn’t.
And, just as you’re preparing to clock out and head home with a big secret crush and a little pep in your step, you hear the familiar notification of an email. No problem, probably just a daily report or something.
From:...[ [email protected] ]
CC:...
BCC:...
Subject: Mandatory Advising
[insert your name here],
Please come to my office before you leave for the day to discuss your conduct as of late.
Thank you,
Park Sunghoon
Division Manager
000-000-0000 ext. 000
Well, double fuck. To think everything was fine despite you being well aware of that shit HR said to you previously?
You barely recognize how the email is sent directly to you from Mr. Park, not including HR or COO Lee. In fact, the anxiety wells up inside of you so quickly that you nearly have to dry heave a few times before taking a deep breath.
In your head, it’s not even about the web-cam session with a faceless man anymore. Your anxiety about that died the moment you successfully lied to yourself enough, now you’re genuinely just afraid you’ll lose your job or that beloved promotion you worked so hard to be qualified for. You just had to let your anxiety run your life for the past ten days, didn’t you? After all, skipping work to such an extent? Everyone had to have known that it was a lie eventually.
So, you stand to your feet, brush off your thighs, and attempt to keep your heart from pounding as you make your way to Mr. Park’s office expecting to see HR, COO Lee, and a severance package on the desk waiting for your signature.
Instead, you walk in to just find your boss. He’s looking at you as he normally would, eyes focused on his screen before glancing at you for a moment and nodding his head to one of the chairs in front of his desk.
“Mr. Park–” You start, nearly wincing at the way you say it because, well, you haven’t said it since the night you had your pussy out on display. It’s only natural to physically react, right?
“One moment.” He says in a small voice, clicking a few times with the mouse as you watch the monitor light shine across his cheeks with each window he minimizes.
It’s silent for a few moments as you awkwardly look around an office you’ve been in countless times. His lights are always dimmed, the temperature is always comfortable. You’re gonna miss this office, though it’s not your own. It was a nice, brief escape before all of this if you’re being honest.
“How was work for you today?” He turns his attention to you, finally adjusting and rolling his chair to center himself in front of you behind his desk
You pause at the question, unintentionally tilting your head at it like a puppy. “Good? Normal, I guess?”
You watch as he nods with a tight-lipped expression, eyes falling to his desk as he takes in a deep and disappointed sounding breath.
“Well, that’s one of us.” He huffs out, causing you to feel a bit confused with his tone. Is he being…passive aggressive? And when he snaps his eyes from his desk straight to your own confused gaze, you can almost sense a bit of something else in them compared to usual.
Not anger. Not disappointment.
He looks worried.
“Eleven days–” Sunghoon drones on with an exhausted tone, cutting himself off with another breath that shows you were right to assume his current displayed emotion. “You have ignored my text messages for eleven days.”
You’re shocked by that because as far as you’re concerned, he has not texted you.
“What are you–” You furrow your brows at him, frantically pulling out your phone. “You haven’t texted me. See? The last one I got was–” You take a second as you pull up his texts and remember the exact time he texted you. So late into the night, right after…that. Naturally, you silence yourself, afraid to say it out loud.
“On the contrary,” Sunghoon denies your proof. “I texted from my personal phone.”
You hesitate again, looking down and noting the notifications under the tab of “message requests.” To be fucking fair though, you didn’t even know that existed so you never really paid attention to it. Especially as you practically avoided your phone out of fear that he’d be texting you again.
You were thankful he didn’t. That comforted you. Now though? Your comfort is replaced yet again with anxiety because, well, he texted you consistently after that night.
“Oh–” You say quietly, seeing a glimpse of “Please, let me call y–” in one of the messages.
“I didn’t see those.” Quickly, you turn your screen off and shove your phone back into your pocket, nervously clasping your hands in front of you and looking to the floor.
“I will reiterate then.”
You can hear the leather on his chair squeak against his expensive suit when he leans forward, both hands splayed out on his desk in a wide and intimidating stance in front of you.
“Wait–” You look around the office now. “If you’re going to fire me– shouldn’t the others be here too?”
Sunghoon pulls back at that, narrowing his eyes before lending a very small and even more nervous chuckle.
“I’m not firing you. I told them I’d take care of your sudden and, quite frankly, unhelpful vacation.”
You look to the floor again, feeling scolded for your actions but having a genuine reason. If Sunghoon truly is aware of that reason for your absence, he understands too, right?
“I have been beyond inappropriate with you.” He blurts now, that same leather squeaking as he leans back again and looks away from you the moment you snap your head up. “I have reason to believe you’ve not yet reported me, and I’d like to ask for the opportunity to explain myself before you do.”
You feel a chill wash over your whole body, cold sweat peaking right at your temples as you stare forward. He’s being so professional about this, and that lie you’ve convinced yourself of is showing it’s face as just that, a fucking lie.
So this is it?
So there it is? A semi-admittance that it was him? That little feeling in the back of your head that wishes it was diminishes within an instant. In fact, you narrow your eyes at him, your nose crinkles, and you feel frustration bubble up in your gut.
“So you admit that it was you?” You ask, needing a full confirmation.
“Yes.” Sunghoon sighs, leaning back somehow further, creating as much distance from you as possible before unintentionally rolling his eyes. Mostly due to the fact that he was stupid enough to let this happen, mostly to shame himself. “What I did was inappropriate and unacceptable. I didn’t intend for this to ever happen.”
Now you feel a bit…pissed off.
Like? Oh, he didn’t intend for this to happen? What? You mean he didn’t intend to let you fucking find out! Well, as good as he is at playing the part of a slutty man on the internet, he’s not so good at acting in real life, now is he? Saying your false fucking name at work, saying your real name with his cock out?
What in the fuck are you supposed to do about this? Why is he giving you the ability to report him? He’s the one with the power here. He could fire you now and bury the information if he so pleased. After all, He’s besties with COO Lee, right? That bitch in HR has an obsession with him too. Hell, everyone here loves the guy.
You’re just a bottom of the barrel employee trying to work your way up. If you got him fired, surely he’d make damn sure you never work for a decent company like this one again. Additionally, you don’t even want to report him.
Yeah, it was fucking weird that he just knew it was you and kept going. Super strange that he had to have known after the first call, only to ask to see you in the second one. Why does that turn you on in the midst of this anxiety induced spiral? Why the fuck is the idea of Park Sunghoon apologizing for masturbating to and for you so alluring?!
Sure, maybe it’s kind of nice knowing that someone of his status would ever find an interest in you, but it doesn’t quite wash the frustration away. You have every right to question, and every right to be pissed off about it.
Still, in this quiet room, Sunghoon is stoic and all you can think about when you look at him is the way he said “if I were your boss i’d–” and the way he fucked his palm while saying it, implying he wanted it to be you while simultaneously knowing it was you watching.
Since fucking when did Mr. Park ever show a sexual interest in you? And if he did, why the fuck couldn’t he have just been normal about it?
“That was really fucked up, you know that?” You argue immediately, voice shaking at the speed of which your emotions shift. Your resolve isn’t quite as clear as it probably should be. Perhaps you should report him, or maybe you already should have. But, it’s not like you accepted the truth until he demanded it of you.
You would have let it slide. Both of you could have pretended it never happened. You could’ve gone home and continued working, never paying a cam-boy again had Sunghoon not called you into this stupid, comfortable ass office.
“In my defense, I was just doing my job. Though it’s my own fault for not telling you, my job here was at risk if you had found out.”
“You made me talk about you.” You roll your eyes at him now, gaining the power and control over the conversation. “And you thought I wouldn’t find out?! What? Did that get you off or something?”
“I–” Sunghoon stops himself from answering that question truthfully. He quickly tries to explain away the stutter instead. Never has he been scolded by an employee, but you’re well within your rights to do so. “I wasn’t in my right mind. I never get called by name during these sessions and I apologize for having you say it.”
“And you want me to report you?” You raise a brow at him. “Want me to just storm right into HR and tell her how you’re a fucking pervert? Want me to tell her how you told me to repeat your name? To thank you for it? Is that really what you want?”
Are you enjoying yourself a little too much? Maybe.
Sunghoon doesn’t respond though, instead, he runs his hand through his hair and sighs from the stress welling up inside of him. He can only act calm and collected for so long, and it’s been eleven days already. He hates how hearing you say those words goes straight to his cock at a time like this, he hates even more how all of this could have been avoided if he had simply declined your second call.
But you’re not wrong. He is a pervert, and he did tell you to thank him for the pleasure you were getting from his voice and half image alone. At the time, he was so turned on he really just couldn’t help himself. You fed his sexual appetite unknowingly and now this is the consequence of his action. Being a known pervert.
Is it what he wants though? To be reported? Humiliated?
Fuck.
Arguably, just having you humiliate him like this is enough. Drives him crazy, really. Whether it be from arousal or guilt, or both.
And for the first time since you started working here, you see him for what he truly is. A strong man to an extent, but he’s crumbling under his own mistake and it makes you wonder just how far he would’ve taken it had you not found out.
“And what if I didn’t realize who I was fucking myself for?” You glare. “Would you have asked for more? Avoided me here even more? Would you have declined my application for the assistant position because you can’t come to terms with the fact that you’re a fucking pervert?!”
Sunghoon raises his hands in defense.
“Please–” His voice sounds panicked. “Please, keep your voice down.”
“Answer the question, then. Just fucking own it at this point.” You throw your arms up now, letting them fall back down in a slap to your thighs. “Would you have made my work-life miserable just so you could watch me get off to you? Knowing the whole time? Would you have kept on with that boss slash employee shit just so it felt more real for you?”
Staring forward at him, you watch him accept that everything you’re saying is likely exactly what would have happened. Maybe he really will try to own it. Which would be… a good thing if you decide to let your own resolve falter.
So fucking secretive, huh? An actual, real life degenerate? And it’s Sunghoon of all people?
“Maybe…” Sunghoon trails off, making himself seem much smaller than he usually is on a day-to-day basis. “I mean, No–I,”
Oh, he’s actually stuttering.
“And you want me to tell on you? You want me to fuck your life up?” You raise a brow. “As if I didn’t pay you to do it?”
In all honesty, aside from the anxiety and awkwardness, and despite never once thinking of Sunghoon too sexually, things have changed. Drastically. Especially after being confronted with this situation and he’s not intimidating you or using his power to control you. No, he’s giving you the power and quite frankly, you don’t know what to do with it.
Are you basking in it? Absolutely. Is it nice to see him cower in front of you? In that big plush chair that costs more than your monthly income? Hell yeah.
But goddamn, had he approached you before all of this and asked for a date, or showed interest, you would have gladly partaken in a secret romance with him. He’s intelligent, attractive, clean, and has money. It’s not like you ever expected the guy to go home and fuck himself on camera.
You never thought he was the type to be so lonely either. Or so desperate, judging by how he acted during those two sessions. Arguably, you always wondered why there was never a ring on those pristine fingers.
And while you were definitely the victim in this situation, you feel more embarrassed than you do violated. Many nights you thought of how he spoke, how he said how badly he wanted you. It’s embarrassing because you’re starting to love the idea of who those words really came from. The Park Sunghoon, so untouchable in the business world. So untouchable by women and men solely because he appears to be too expensive, too pristine.
But you…
You’ve seen him dirty.
Part of you wishes you didn’t pay to be humiliated like this. The rest of you wishes you didn’t fucking like it as much as you do.
“It’s only fair.” Sunghoon explains with a short breath. “I feel awful for what I’ve done, and I should have told you the moment I recognized her as, well–” He pauses with a pained face, as if he hates hearing himself say it. “You.”
“Then, why didn’t you?” You raise your brow again, nearly forgetting you’re at work, solely focused on the conversation at hand and feeling relieved at the way it’s going.
Sunghoon shifts in discomfort, looking away from you.
“Do you want honesty?” He asks in a quiet voice, leaning forward on his desk but refusing eye contact. He keeps his gaze lowered the entire time, his voice small and shaky.
There’s still people in the office, though his door is closed and it’s unlikely he can be heard.
You nod to him with an even smaller “Go on then.”
“I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t you.” He says, shifting his hands and picking at his cuticles.
Man, he really knows how to act sorry, doesn’t he?
“I avoided you after that first call, solely because I think I wanted her to be you. Which is…incredibly inappropriate.”
He looks up at you now, searching for a reaction and only seeing you nod at him. His eyes shift right back down as he continues.
“My avoiding you led you to– um– more services.” He explains quieter, admitting in full the situation he’s allowed to take place, seeming more and more insecure with his words than he ever has before. “I can admit that I have fantasies and needs.”
Silence.
“After that first call, I couldn’t help but be entirely attracted to you. The idea of–”
You suddenly find yourself thinking back to all of those things he said to you again, parading as if he wasn’t your boss, telling you what he'd do if he were. He seems to have accidentally found a sexual interest in the dynamic…and he fucking dragged you into it with him.
“Mr. Par– Sunghoon.” You cut him off, actually feeling a bit of pity now at his admittance.
His words make you feel like maybe he’s not entirely just a pervert who was intending to make you get off to him from the start. If anything, he probably felt uncomfortable at first knowing who was on the other end of the call. It’s the fact that his real life job was at risk if you found out, and still he indulged despite that. He accepted that second call, he asked for more, he acted like he really does want you.
To the extent that losing his job was in the front of his mind and he still did it. He ignored the danger of it and prioritized getting off…with you. You find yourself wondering if this would have happened to any other employee under him if they happened to stumble across his stream too.
Part of you wants to pretend he wouldn’t, because the idea that all of this is happening solely because it was you? It hits a little too hard, a little too deep.
“Okay, okay. Stop,” You say, keeping your eyes on him and willing him to look up at you. “You don’t have to keep explaining, I get it.”
“No.” He does meet your eye this time, stopping your brain of all thoughts at how differently you see him now versus all the times before. “I do.”
He’s so honest. Probably too honest for his own good. Maybe that’s why he’s so good at his job, maybe that’s why everyone loves him. Maybe a bit of lying would help him in this situation if it were anyone else, but for you?
You kind of enjoy the way he’s telling the truth. Admitting that he was desperate, apologizing for wanting you even if just for a brief moment.
“I asked you to turn on your camera for selfish reasons. I asked you to say my name, then I made the mistake of exposing myself because I–” He hesitates, closing his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose. “I struggled to pretend it wasn’t me, and that she wasn’t you. I very well knew what I was doing, and at the time, I wished that you did too.”
More silence as you stare at him, stunned, slightly in awe.
“But I knew you wouldn’t have reciprocated. What I’ve done is criminal, and I am encouraging you to report me for it if that’s what you deem necessary.”
“And if I don’t?” You don’t leave any more room for silence now, feeling desired and validated.
You can’t pretend that you’re mad, though you were previously. You simply can’t pretend that, now at least, you wouldn’t reciprocate. If anything, you’re more interested now than you think you ever would have been before.
“We can forget any of this ever happened. I’ll stop streaming and accepting private calls, and we can hopefully move forward without any ill-feelings of one another.” He blinks at you, near pleading with his eyes. “I’ll push your application through– That is, if you still want the position.”
Sunghoon does wince at the bribe, considering he’s never done such a thing let alone commit acts of sexual harassment, or perhaps even non consensual foreplay with someone. It really really wasn’t entirely intentional, and he’s disgusted with himself. If you report him, he’d take the hit to his reputation and career, but if you don’t…what then?
Ill-feelings, he says? If anything, you might feel more ill parading around like you wouldn’t want him to do all of those things he said previously, with free-will to say as he pleased without the fear of you knowing who the words were coming from.
“Can you please stop with the professional talk?” You hum out with an exhausted eye roll. “I don’t want the promotion if you’re just offering it so I don’t rat you out.” You narrow your eyes now and lean yourself forward. “You hope to forget this ever happened? Really?”
Carefully, the two of you watch each other for a while longer. Sunghoon looking like he’s about to catch himself on fire, and you, looking annoyed and amused. Still, the thick air in the room starts to feel suffocating under the pressure of the “issue” at hand as you scold him further.
“What you did was predatory. But– I don’t want to ruin your life over this.”
You watch as Sunghoon listens, his posture opening up a bit more as you speak, showing that he’s being relieved of his stress through your words alone.
“Are you trying to hold a promotion over my head over this?”
Before he gets the chance to curl in on himself again, you answer for him.
“Maybe.”
You continue too, not letting him speak for the time being. Or, rather, giving him a chance to breathe.
“Should you change your username and continue doing what you want behind closed doors because it’s no one else’s business?” You really watch him this time. “Yes.”
He blinks at you, raising a brow in slight confusion.
“Did you take advantage of me?”
He nods before you whisper out another “yes” yourself.
“Would I let you do it again…?”
Oh, for Sunghoon, it’s hard to breathe right now as he anticipates what you’ll say. Is it going to be a ‘no’ this time? Are you going to stand up and change your mind? Despite just stating you don’t want to ruin his life?
God, hasn’t he already let you?
“Yes.”
Pause.
“I’m sorry?” Sunghoon responds in disbelief, shifting his eyes to his hands and then back to you. “Come again?”
“Sunghoon.” You make it a point to call him by his name now, ignoring the etiquette of a proper boss and employee dynamic. “I am humiliated by all of this but I can see that you are too. You’ve admitted your guilt and even go as far as encouraging that I report you.” You pause again, knowing that this isn’t where the conversation should be going for any, uh, normal person, you suppose.
“If you had just told me. If you had said anything about wanting to, like, fuck me, I would have done it with or without the promotion on the line.”
Does that make you sound a little desperate? Yeah. But it’s not like he doesn’t know how badly you need to be fucked. After all, you know, the cam sessions and stuff. You were literally paying a stranger to get you off.
Shouldn’t he, of all people, know that you were bad-off enough to get laid?
Sunghoon’s issue though, is that he never looks at his employees sexually. No matter how pretty, no matter how much they flaunt themselves at him. He never has, and probably never will again. If it hadn’t been for that single first session with you, all would be well. But now? He’s too attracted to you.
He wants you so badly.
“If you tell me right now that you want me, in the same way you did on that call–” You stop yourself to really look at him. With the way he swallows, the way his lips slightly part, the way his hands show signs of eleven days worth of nervous habit cuticle picking. “If you do all of those things you said you’d do ‘if you were my boss’...”
“Wait, wait–” Sunghoon stands in a rush, causing you to jump slightly at the sudden sound echoing off of the walls in the office. “Do you understand the consequences of what you’re implying right now?”
“If I fuck my boss, we could both be fired?” You smile, feeling the confidence raise within you. Watching the way he reacts to your lewd words face to face rather than through a microphone.
“That would be…correct.” He raises a brow.
“Well, technically, you’ve already been fucking me.” You look away from him, feeling a bit shy even with the confidence, but never having spoken to a man so bluntly before like this? It’s a bit scary. “Would it really make anything worse if, you know, I do reciprocate?”
Goddamn. Sunghoon might be a bit smitten. This situation could have gone a thousand different ways, and you offer the one that includes your legs spread across this fucking desk and his face buried between them?
Oh. Never has he been so willingly turned on at work.
“Is this what you want?” He asks in a breath, shifting his eyes to the door and walking towards it, immediately reaching for the lock but not quite turning it.
“Is that what you want?” You counter, turning and staring at the lock.
Sunghoon hides his nod, wanting you to be the one to answer first. After all, hasn’t he been self-indulgent enough?
“Do you want me to fuck you?” He finally breaks and says it, blatantly, not sugar coated, yet still sweet when the words hit your ears. “After all this, you still want it?”
You nod, dipping your head a bit against your shoulder.
Click.
“I guess I should have known.” Sunghoon plays with his words now, hand dropping from the now locked door and eyes entirely on you. “Do you want me to fuck you, or would you prefer–”
“You.” You smile, feeling your skin prickle at the electricity that enters the room through breath and words alone. It’s the way he already shifted. Like all of that anxiety melted out of him within an instant.
“No, no.” He stalks towards you now, the nervous Sunghoon is no longer in sight as he makes himself seem bigger, taller, far more intimidating. Just like he was on camera. “The me you saw on screen is not the same as what you’re seeing right now.” He tries to explain.
“Oh?” You tilt your head, and he only finds that cute.
Far too cute.
“You’d do as I ask, right?” His voice shifts to a raspy whisper as he centers himself in front of you, both hands reaching the arms of your chair as he hovers above you. “I’m far more tame online.”
Tame?! That’s what he calls tame?!
You stare up at him, keeping your jaw from falling slack as you physically see him shift from being your boss into being a man with a need. Not just any need either. A need for you.
Part of you wonders if he ever truly felt bad in the first place about all of this, because the shift from just moments ago is so dramatic it’s almost scary.
“So, tell me.” He leans down, inches from your face as his eyes start to fall to a half-lidded stare at you. “You’ll do as I say? You’d let me do it all for you, and not ask me to stop until I feel it best, yes?”
You swallow and slowly nod. Oh god, it really, really, is him.
“And while at work, you’ll behave?” He continues, lips now ghosting over yours to the point you can almost feel them press down. He’s implying that if you don’t tell, that this won’t be the only time too? Shit. He’s entirely aware of why this shouldn’t be happening, but still making it happen.
“No matter what I do to you, where or how I do it, you’ll behave?”
You can’t help it when you lift your chin, just a bit to rest your lips against his words, eyes falling closed and hands hesitant to reach out for his perfectly ironed shirt.
You feel his smile against your lips, with that sharp-toothed grin he rarely offers.
“Ah, so it’s true.” He murmurs against you, his hand reaching for yours and guiding it for you, straight to his belt. “Dirty, dirty girl.”
A small, pleased, sound leaves your throat when he does kiss you, adding his own pleased hum alongside yours as his hands still hold yours in place over his belt, not quite letting you do anything just yet.
”Gonna be quiet–” He whispers into your mouth, just against your tongue before licking out and against it. “Even when I tell you to moan my name?”
You really shouldn’t be surprised, but you still are. You like this Sunghoon better than the one who stutters and picks his cuticles. He’s owning it, and in a way, so are you.
After all, it wasn’t until today that you truly learned what Sunghoon is like when he’s aroused. Not that you ever should have known in the first place. The fact that you do know, the fact that he’s showing you? It just makes this all the more arousing, in your opinion.
All he needed was a green light and within seconds it seems, Sunghoon became the need you’ve been chasing for months now through porn sites and erotic novels.
You nod to his words, trying to drop your hand just a bit to feel what you’ve already seen. Just to feel how warm he is, how—
“Is that so?” Sunghoon whispers in an amused tone, guiding your hand right back to his belt, only to drop his other hand straight between your legs. “You’re supposed to do as I say. If I tell you to moan my name, you do it.”
Oh, the sexual confusion of what to do and which Sunghoon to obey. All you can do is continue to nod for him, hanging your head with a breath at the way he cups his hand over the entirety of your core. You wore pants today in order to hide your shame, to try and feel invisible based on previous circumstances. You’re not so happy about that now, as you try to feel his touch through the thick fabric only to shamelessly thrust your hips up and against his palm.
He moves his lips to the top of your head now, hovering over you in a perfect stance of power, hand gently rubbing up and and down despite your hips asking for a harsher touch. If anything, it makes him feel better knowing how you react to this.
In actuality, his relief is sending his arousal through the roof. Not only are you not going to rat him out but…you want more of it? More of him, in particular? Not the facade of him online?
At this point, if he gets caught, you’re both going down in flames. So, why not enjoy the ride?
Truly, it’s laughable in the way he’s just as amused as he is turned on, relishing in the fact that he wants you and you’re letting him have you despite his past actions. You’re messy too, he’s seen it, and now he gets to feel it.
“Mhm,” Sunghoon hums against the top of your head, now pressing his own hips forward against your hand. “Feel that?”
The electricity? How hard he is? How needy you are?
”Yeah…” You sigh absentmindedly, bumping his chin with your head when you try to look up at him. You only blink twice before he coos out with a sad little sound.
He doesn’t say a word after as he removes his hand and instead, grabs both of your hands and places them on his shirt.
“Go on.” He smiles, waiting to see you to start fumbling against his buttons.
And fumble, you do. Touching him, for some reason, feels so dangerous. Knowing you’re the one removing his shirt, watching his skin be revealed as it begins to fall open by your own doing? It’s electrifying. Enough to lose your train of thought as you study how toned and smooth his skin is. Just like how you had seen on camera, so clear in front of you now. You’re aching for him by this point, being able to feel his body heat, touch him, feel his eyes on you.
If you had really known back then who it was you were talking to, you very well may have pretended to not know as well, judging by the way your entire body catches fire for him.
And as his shirt falls completely open, he’s satisfied with the way you do it. Complacent and docile beneath him, nervous fingers shaking much like he did for the past eleven days. With those pretty eyes looking at him, like there’s nothing in your head at all.
He chuckles at you, grabbing your hands again and placing them right on his chest, helping your hesitant touch to massage and caress each bump and toned muscle. He intentionally flexes the further down your hands go, all the way back to his belt.
There, he looks down at where you touch, then back at you with a quirked brow. You stare up at him, blinking, face feeling hot, and it’s like you move your hands on instinct. The sound of his buckle being unclasped echoes in the room, and his eyes only darken with the sound.
The sound of it slipping from the loops when he takes it upon himself to remove it completely for you, the sound of his breathing, the sound of that zipper, the button, the shuffling of his pants being skewed down just enough to fit your hand inside.
He moans at the image alone, loving the way your smaller hand looks slipping down his pants, the way your breathing is somehow even as if you’re trying to keep yourself calm. So calm, so pretty, but he knows how needy you are. He shouldn’t, but he does, and he uses it to his advantage.
You’re the one who moans this time upon feeling that little twitch of his cock urging you to grab. And he helps you too, with the way he guides your hand under the front of his pants further, forcing your fingers to grab and grope the thick of his cock, uncomfortable and pressing between his briefs and undone zipper.
“Still, you’re just looking.” Sunghoon comments, pressing his hips forward slowly and gently. “I’m right here.” He continues to explain the situation to you, as if you’re not experiencing it. “You need me to show you how to touch me too?”
You hesitate with a groan caught in your throat. You’re still processing the size difference that you feel now versus what you saw. Bigger. Thicker. Heavier than you would have expected against your palm. Honestly, you were so focused on the fact that Sunghoon’s cock is currently fucking forward against you that you almost forgot how to jerk a man off by yourself.
His hand had been doing all the work for you, and you’re quick to take over.
Sunghoon lends a very small gasp at the way you try to grasp, and instantly both of his arms shoot to the chair behind your head. He grips it, dropping his chin to the top of your head before thrusting a bit harsher into the grip you try to hold on him.
“Harder.” He exhales, his cock twitching in your weak hold. “Grab me harder.”
You do, squeezing the bulge before intentionally adjusting it for him, allowing the head of his bulbous cock to peek from the top of his briefs.
His relieved sigh is enough, you can’t help it. With his chin sat atop your head like this, you have no choice but to watch the way he moves his hips. Just like he did on camera. His abs flex with each movement, his arms grip behind you on the chair tighter, and you couldn’t pull your eyes away from his desperate body even if you wanted to.
You thrust up too, as if your body craves what you’re already touching. And you do crave it, so much so that your clit aches against the denim you’re rubbing up against. Unfortunate that you wore these fucking jeans, honestly.
“Mr. Park–” You let out a small and frustrated cry, using your other hand to try and fail at unbuttoning your own pants.
He hides his smile at the way you’ve reverted back to his professional title, but pays no mind to it because that’s what he wanted to hear in your voice that night. A desperate sound of his name, a plea, a cry. He can’t help but cling to it and bury that pretty voice into the darkest parts of his brain. A memory he’ll revisit time and time again after this. That sound, those pretty lips, this weak grasp you have. For the time being, it’s his. You belong to him right now.
“Hm?” He hums out, fucking his hips forward while tilting his head back to look at you. “What is it, baby?”
Oh. You lost your train of thought.
Thankfully, he seems to do the thinking for you as he shifts his eyes down and watches you try to both please him and remove your own pants. A cute sight to him, really. Someone who was just scolding him for wanting this, fumbling for more?
So cute.
He chuckles, pulling his hips back from your hand and grabbing it, unbothered by the loss of your touch. Instantly he intertwines his fingers with yours, and grasps your other hand from your pants to do the same. Both your arms raise by his guidance to the back of the chair before he releases them.
You watch with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes as he lowers himself, right onto his knees before he unbuttons your pants for you and very politely pulls them from your legs.
“This what you want?” He smiles, lying his cheek right against your exposed thigh and taking a deep inhale. It’s taking everything in him not to fawn over the woman who had him in his thoughts for the past however long, truly.
Then again, he’s weak. He doesn’t even look up at you through his words and, instead, nuzzles his nose right up and against the seat of your panties before inhaling with a pleasant hum. “To have me finally touching this pretty pussy for you?”
God damn, if you didn’t already know it was him on that camera, you do now. He speaks the same type of words, with the same confidence, the same sultry tone…
You can barely comprehend the way he slowly takes his own pants off because you’re too focused on the way he runs his lips across your skin with dirty thoughts spilling from them. Fingers tucked under either side of your panties in preparation before he eventually pulls them off of you.
“Did you wear those pants to hide yourself from me?” He comments now with an amused tone. “Knowing you wanted me to take them off of you anyway?”
You shake your head at him, holding your breath. You did wear them to hide, but you never would have expected this situation to go in a direction involving his mouth anywhere near where you need it. Sure, you assumed he would have rejected you, you assumed that if it was him– he’d have been so disgusted with himself that he’d only gag at your presence.
But no. You were bold in your words, and he seems to feed into that.
“No?” He furrows his brows and lifts his head. Now lowering your panties much like he did for your pants. He’s quick with his next action, seemingly hiding his own desperation through playful comments at you. “Why not?” He adds, instantly pressing his thumb against your clit and fucking shining his eyes up at you with a semi-pouted mouth.
You roll your eyes back at the sudden pressure, relaxing your shoulders and slouching down in the chair. Your legs spread further on instinct, granting him a full view of your sticky cunt parting open for him.
His eyes glance down, peering into the heat you offered once before ever knowing it was him looking. Clicking his tongue, he can’t help but bite his lower lip to hold himself back. He hopes you don’t notice the way his hand finds its way to his own cock, he really, really hopes you don’t see him act so pathetic over this.
But you do. The moment your eyes roll back into place and get a look at him. One of his shoulders is moving, but the action is hidden by not only the chair, but his fucking face. He’s got his lips parted and he’s licking his lower lip. Slicking it up with his own saliva before–
“So quiet,” He hums with glistening lips, lending himself a light hold with his cock and pretending it’s you doing it for him. “You have nothing to say for yourself?” He adds now, inhaling once more the scent of your slick dripping for him as he leans in just a bit more.
“Oh–!” You yelp slightly at the feeling of his teeth digging into the flesh just to the side of your core. He bites down harder and harder, licking the flesh between his teeth before sucking hard against it. The sweat and scent of your full-day at work does nothing to calm his raging cock. He loves it and it only grows his appetite for you. Licking, sucking, nibbling at the skin until he’s sure he’ll leave a nice, painful swell to rub against your panties later. Only then does he release your skin from his still-tasting mouth.
The relief when he releases your thigh is short lived because he offers not even a full two seconds before you feel his mouth circle your clit. Like he can’t help himself, like he can’t tease you right now even if he wanted to.
A flick of his tongue sends a shiver down your spine straight to your toes and you can’t stop your legs from immediately wrapping around his head. You hear his muffled “mmf” when you do that, but he keeps you from apologizing for it because his free hand goes straight under your ass and scoots you even closer to his tongue.
And if you didn’t already think Sunghoon knew how to use that mouth for more than just being a professional business man, you do now. With the way that same tongue that used to taste the morning coffee you’d bring him now tastes you. Deeply.
He licks, flicks, and sucks every fold. Slurping up any dripping heat that slips out of you before pressing his tongue in and nuzzling his nose against your clit. He’s not quiet about it either. He moans with each lick, hums every time your legs squeeze around his neck, slurps and loudly sucks.
It’s pornographic, it’s sexy, it’s–
Suddenly, you feel a sharp jolt shoot through you, having not even noticed his hand moving from your ass to your front, moving straight up under your shirt. His fingers immediately find your nipple and pinches hard. So hard that your previous moan only becomes prolonged. Grows louder, breathier.
He pinches and massages your nipple with the intent to keep you loud for him. Office setting or not, he could give less of a shit about that right now. He ignores the strain on his wrist from your bra, he uses his other hand to grip himself harder, and you can’t help but squeeze him tighter between your thighs until you’re, quite literally, shaking.
Your hips are sliding against his face with each jolt of pleasure, practically riding him, and his cock is now entirely neglected because you can’t help but want more. You need more. And he gives it, by now releasing himself and keeping both hands on you. One holding the outside of your thigh, almost pushing you to squeeze tighter, the other incessantly abusing your nipple.
He chokes out a moan through his messy movements, never quite knowing where to put his hands solely because he wants to touch all of you. His cock is just fine being neglected, he thinks, as he realizes just how much pleasure he gets from feeling you wrap yourself around him like this.
It feels better than jerking himself off.
“Mr. P–” You sigh out, still not quite used to actually calling him his name, but the sound of it reminds you time and time again how wrong this situation is supposed to be.
You’re sitting on this soft chair, pussy being spread apart by a tongue none other than the man who signs your paychecks. And just this morning you were terrified of him ever even getting a glimpse of you without pants on? God, how stupid could you be? You should’ve been chasing this man’s touch since the day you looked at him for the first time.
“Fuck–” You moan out for him, brain spitting thoughts at you as each second passes. The danger of this, the fact that he genuinely got off to you before you knew it was him. The secrecy of his perverted thoughts and actions…it’s all so… “So, you’re so – hot.”
You feel him laugh, kissing the pulsing hole of your pussy when he pulls his tongue back to swallow. And for just a few moments, he turns his head, gripping your thigh with his teeth once again before speaking back to you, muffled by the hot skin.
“Yeah?” He laughs, now pulling his hand from your bra and lifting to your chin, pointing your gaze down at him, forcing you to see the way your thighs nearly suffocate him against your pussy. “Then keep your eyes on me.”
And you do, especially when he uses both of his hands now, nudging them between your legs and forcing them from his shoulders. He rests your legs on the arms of the chair instead and flicks his eyes up at you.
“You watching?” He makes this a point, blowing a small breath of air straight at your clit before receiving a dazed and slow nod from you. “Keep your legs open too.”
That’s the last thing he says before his mouth is full again, sucking your folds between his teeth before tucking his tongue right back into your hole. He tastes for just a few moments before you feel those same lips on your clit. He lets it throb in his open mouth as he listens carefully to your little sounds, especially now that he’s sliding his fingers into you.
You gasp, holding your breath at the feeling. His fingers slide in, reaching deep before he scissors them open. And all you feel from it is pleasure. You can’t help that your eyes roll back again, but you do try to keep your gaze fixed on his. With his eyes so rounded, blinking up at you with his strong jaw moving with each swallow of his own muffled moans.
He sucks your clit, fucks your cunt open, and relishes in the way he will soon get to splay you across his desk and really let you have it.
And he does this for a few minutes, though in your head it goes by so fast that you nearly get whiplash from the way he pulls back with a wet sound and grins at you.
“Aw, baby–” He coos at the face you make, seemingly disappointed to lose all stimulation at once, but he’s quick to lift to his feet and lean back over you.
Oh, his cock. It’s right there.
Oh.
His face–
“You’re so fucking wet right now.” He murmurs against the corner of your mouth with a raspy whisper, easily and without warning slipping two of his fingers right back into the heat that he just denied himself of licking more. “You hear that?” He continues with a sharp toothed bite to your lip. “How wet you are?”
You groan at the way he slams his fingers in, out, in, out, in…He keeps them there, pressed so far into you that you can physically feel the way your pussy tries to push him out again.
“Could slip it in right now–” He moans out at how tight you clench just his fingers. “Fuck, could be so deep in you.”
Your face feels hot as a bashful feeling overtakes you. His voice hits so much harder when you feel his breath along with it. His fingers, his cock right up against you. You want him to slip it in. To stuff his cock in you so fast, no room to adjust, not a second to even catch your breath.
God, you need it right now. It’s been too long since you’ve felt a real person touch you, you can’t help that you feel so desperate. The clench isn’t on purpose, your body tells him all he needs to know, all while he tells you all you could only wish to hear fall from someone’s lips.
And not just anyone. His lips.
You shoot your arms around his neck and it's not really intentional but– an actual kiss. You need it.
He seems pleased by it though, with the way his tongue immediately asks for more. One hand moves to brace your cheek, the other still fucking into you so good that you can’t keep a single moan down. He takes full control of the initiated kiss solely because you kissed him first. Almost hungrily, he licks into your mouth with his own muffled groan, encouraging you to keep being pretty like this. Just so you can see what he’ll do to you.
And, damn. He guides your body like a puppet, stiffening his shoulders when he licks into your mouth and threatening to pull away by raising himself up just a bit. He knew you’d chase the kiss, and you do. You lift with him, your ass lifting from the chair just to keep his tongue against yours, and he takes the elevated position and angles his hand just a bit. There, his fingers fuck into you harder, faster, so much fucking deeper until– you feel his fingers stop at a painfully deep spot inside of you.
He pulls back from the kiss, looking down between your bodies, and your eyes follow his gaze. Right there, he’s placed his knee up against his own wrist, forcing his fingers to remain deep and unmoving in you.
You take in a sharp inhale, seeing the way he lets your body fall back to the seat of the chair, only forcing him to skew his fingers and– “Oh, god!”
You moan out so suddenly that it even shocks him for a moment, but he takes your weakness and uses it to his advantage. Quickly, he licks into your moaning mouth, tickling his fingers upwards, pulling even more animalistic sounds from you.
“Yeah?” He whispers frantically, so turned on by the way your entire body stiffens. “Right there?” He continues, leaning his full body weight forward with his knee, wincing at the way he presses his cock against anything he can find in the process, just to get you off right here, right now.
You nod just as frantically, toes curling, arms shooting to the chair in a form that should appear as discomfort, but really you’re just bracing yourself through the tensing of your muscles before all of them relax and pulse at once.
Your ears pop, but you can still hear your desperate cries of his name somewhere distant. You can even hear him, humming and encouraging your orgasm. You wish you could hold your eyes open to see him, to grab him and force him to fuck his fingers hard into you. God, you could take it right now. You could take just about anything to heighten this feeling of stars bursting behind your eyelids.
Somehow though, it’s like he knows. Half-way through your orgasm, you feel the weight between your legs shift and his fingers start moving again. Still, your eyes are squeezed shut, and you can't help but to lunge forward and hug against his neck, clinging to him through the prolonged orgasm that his fingers alone have brought to you.
“Squeezing me so tight–” Sunghoon groans, unsure of if he’s referring to the way your needy cunt crowds his fingers, or the way you cling to him like a lost pet, begging for him to never leave your sight. “Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.”
You hear those words over any of his others. So clear in your head as you snap your head up and look at him. You see him lower his gaze, but your grip doesn’t quite allow him to actually look down at you. Not when he has to physically hold you up anyway. Still, he looks amused up there, knowing that single compliment must’ve hit somewhere inside of you.
You’re not sure why, through all this, Sunghoon calling you pretty makes it so much more intimate. And even as your legs continue to shake, and you release your death grip hug on him, he keeps himself crowded up to you. He’s somehow out of breath just like you are, relishing in the calm silence of your post orgasm as he…Jesus.
It’s not just your imagination. Somehow, it is intimate. It’s the way he pulls his fingers out and both hands shoot to your face. First, he kisses you as if you’re a long lost love. Deeply, slowly. Then, he’s putting one hand at the small of your back, nudging his knee right back between your legs, and pulling you right up against him.
“Who did you cum for?” Sunghoon asks, pulling back just to lick against your lips and stare directly down at you. “Say my name.”
You don’t hesitate, echoing out with a winced expression, still so out of breath while rubbing your clit to the expanse of his thigh.
“Su-Sunghoo-Sunghoon-”
“Yeah?” He encourages you, hearing his name heat his ears up. He moves his pussy-slicked fingers to your mouth while you cry his name, and easily presses your tongue down with them, sliding the digits further and further down your throat. “Sunghoon.” He says his own name. “Say it again.”
You gag around his fingers, unable to obey his demand.
“Sung–” He inspects the way your tongue struggles against the intrusion in your mouth. “Hoon.”
You swallow around them now, sputtering, tears now running down the outer apples of your cheeks. He watches you do it too, wondering how good that would feel if it were his cock you’re swallowing around. Knowing you’d probably do it for him if he wanted to right now.
But…he needs more than that. Despite how delicious you look while gagging, his cock has been neglected and he needs to fuck out the stress from the past however long you’ve been avoiding him. It’s like his brain breaks with the action as he watches you take his fingers in whatever way he offers. You let him do whatever he wants. You’re obeying.
“Up.” He suddenly says, pulling all physical contact with you away as he turns, steps out of the pants restricting his ankles, and swipes every pen, file, and picture frame off his desk. “Come here, baby.”
You feel like you’re melted to this chair right now, in all honesty. You’re still trying to catch your breath just from touching his cock before he decided to make you see fucking stars, to think you can stand right now is insane.
So, when you don’t immediately hop up and throw yourself onto his desk, he turns to look at you.
You’re splayed out, legs still spread, toes still curled. Your chest is heaving to breathe, eyes wild and lips so fucking kissable.
“Oh, fuck.” He sighs to himself in realization, relishing in the image of you he’s only recently been craving. “Look at you.”
You lift your arm to hide your face, feeling apologetic for the way you’ve lost the ability to exist as an active participant right now. Even more apologetic when you glance down at how fucking hard his cock is. Raging hard, so pretty with the tip sputtering precum for god knows how long.
He watches you stare, and lends you a few moments to catch your breath by gripping it himself. Leaning himself against his desk and twisting his wrist with a tight grip at the base.
“Is this how you looked at me when I did this before?” He asks, flicking his wrist still with each drag. “So out of it, you look like such a mess, babe.”
You find yourself humming a confirmation to him as you watch, almost reverting back to who you were during that first session. Unseen, only heard, all while you got to see him pleasure himself to almost nothing. You gave him nothing.
You’ve still only given him nothing.
And so, very slowly, you force yourself to stand on shaking legs to take those two strides to his desk. Something inside of you tingles when he drops his cock and opens his arms for you, like a good boss would do in this situation. Supporting your unbalanced weight, letting you walk into his comforting grasp.
“Said my name so pretty, you know.” He comments gently when he holds you close to him. Hands reaching down from the grip around your waist just to grab both of your fleshy ass checks and squeeze them. “You want more, yes?”
He’s quick to the point, only allowing the short and sweet moments to last just enough for them to stick in your head. Just enough to have questions about his actions. Just enough to give him anything, everything, he could want if it involves your body.
You nod almost shyly, dipping your head down and leaning against his chest.
“Let's get this off of you then.” He smiles with a gentle voice, reaching to the hem of your shirt and pulling it straight up, watching how you lift your arms to help him. “Mhm–” He hums again, loving how the bra drags off of you along with the shirt. He lets both of his hands brush your nipples before he goes back to gripping your ass cheeks and spreading them.
Spreading them so wide that, once again, you have to lift on your toes just to let him play with your body. Which, oh man. Always wearing his button down shirts, his blazers, his long-sleeve shirts. You can’t help it when you tug at the opened fabric of his shirt, asking silently that he shake it off. Wanting to see his arms, wanting to see the strength in them.
And he does it without hesitation, letting his hands fall from you just for a moment to shake his shirt off, only now hugging against you again and forcing a position change. He turns both of you so now you’re up against his desk, and he’s standing in front of you.
It’s easy for him to push you back in a kiss. Your legs open for him on instinct anyway, so he need not worry about prying those legs open again. You do just as expected when he pushes you too. Your ass hits the desk and you lift on your toes to sit on it. Your legs spread wider, making room for him to step even closer, cock right up against you when he closes any amount of distance, and still? He’s kissing you.
All across your face, down your neck, back to your lips. And his hands just keep feeling. Massaging your tits, lending small taps to your ass, holding your chin, jaw, neck, and then…he runs them through your hair.
The feeling is so good you almost forget how you’ve been trying to steal a glimpse of his flexing arms as he grabs at you. Goosebumps prickle and you let out a groan at the pleasure of it. He keeps one hand there now, smiling against his kiss to your ear.
“You like being pampered?” He asks, now gripping a fist full of your hair and skewing your neck to the side. “Like being moved around like a puppet?”
Never once have you thought about your sex life that way, but when you think about it…maybe. After all, you did enjoy being told when and how to touch yourself, being allowed or forbidden from cumming. Now, with him quite literally moving you around with just a simple grip of your hair? Yeah.
“By you–” You mutter out as you open your eyes, staring at the ceiling and feeling his tongue lap against your earlobe.
“Just me?” He leans back, using that same grip in your hair to force you to look at him. “You’d give me that power?”
You nod against the grasp, lips falling open in a moan despite not being pleasured by anything aside from the stinging against your scalp as he pulls little hairs a bit too tightly.
“You know–” Sunghoon starts now, pressing his hips forward, dropping his other hand to his cock and slapping it right against your weeping cunt. “If I had known you were this dirty...”He sighs out at the image in his head, thinking back to all those times he silently complimented you in his head. Back then, never would he have made comments about your legs out loud, or how your tits would look in certain shirts. Thinking back now, he’s always found you quite beautiful.
Quite fuckable, even.
You listen to the silence waiting for him to continue, feeling the way he presses the hardened head of his length against your clit repeatedly.
“I would have propped you up on this desk months ago,” He smiles now, leaning in real close to your ear as his grip in your hair loosens just a bit. “Could’ve had you moaning my name this whole time.”
Then, you feel it. The way he adjusts his weeping cock lower, prodding at your hole just a bit until his tip is entirely enveloped by your clenching walls.
You swallow a moan and hold your breath, legs shooting around his waist and instinctively trying to force his hips to move forward, trying to force him to penetrate you deeper.
“Shh,” He coos out, holding his hips firm and not letting you control his movements. Then, he kisses just under your ear before peppering them all the way back to your lips. He doesn’t kiss you though, no, he chuckles at you for trying. Watching you let your tongue fall from your mouth, inspecting the way you’re entirely in tune for him right now. “You really want it, don’t you?” He whispers just above your lips. “Want me to fuck you right here, right now?”
You nod absentmindedly, legs still trying to force him to move, arms clinging under his biceps, head still forced into whatever position he keeps it in by the hair.
“Please–Sunghoon.” You cry in a small voice, feeling as if you’re going insane by the feeling of his tip sitting comfortably in you.
“You’re so cute.” He smiles, lending you another inch of his length before letting his hand fall from your hair. There, he grips your waist instead, letting a strained grunt fall from his own lips this time. He’s really trying to remain collected about this, and he’s unsure himself why he’s enjoying the act of teasing you like this. He feels like he’s teasing himself more than you right now, seeing as how it’s taking everything in him not to stuff his cock into you hard and fast. “So–so, fucking cute.”
You clench around the few inches in you and it appears that’s all he needed to break entirely. Is he controlling you, or are you controlling him?
Honestly, who gives a fuck?
You feel his arms shake when he plants them at either side of you, pointing his cock straight into you and sliding in fully. There’s a groan from him that you want to hear so badly, but your own heart beat is thumping in your ears so loudly that you miss half of it.
The stretch is delicious, and the fact that it’s Sunghoon doing this to you makes this all the more enjoyable. The man who you’ve seen day after day, now holding himself up on the desk you’ve signed papers on with and for him? All so he can angle his hips and shove his cock in? Just to let his arms frantically wrap around your waist? Just so he can scoot you forward on this desk, using your leaking slick to slide you back and forth in time with his hips?
That groan you wanted to hear? He hasn’t stopped. He’s essentially, controlling the entire situation and when you half open your eyes to witness his face, you’re forced to roll your eyes back in a moan matching his.
He’s fucking you so deeply right now that all you can do is moan, all you can do is forget the embarrassment, the victimization, the way he’s doing this to you despite the risk of reality crumbling. He could lose his job, you could lose yours, and yet still– he’s fucking you like he doesn’t care.
So, you choose not to care either in the form of grabbing his hair, forcing his head back, and attaching your lips right against his adams apple. You feel him swallow and breathe out a shocked sound, and then? You suck.
Intentionally, you suck, bite, and lick, harder and harder until there’s a deep purple mark there. He doesn’t even fight it, though you feel him try to move his head just to keep you from going too insane with it. You don’t care though, because still you feel his cock splitting you open, forcing you to adjust to him.
“Ah,” Sunghoon lets out another breath with that familiar chuckle, “Marking me now?”
You hum a confirmation as you move to a new spot on his neck, absolutely fucking marking him. Feeling devastated by the idea that he’d do this with any other employee. Or any other person in general.
“Making me all yours, huh?” He continues with his cocky words, feeling the way your pussy clenches him tightly, dripping all over his desk. He’d let you make him yours, with or without the bruising from your mouth.
“Mhm.” You hum pleasantly, letting out little yelps each time he slams into you. Letting out full moans each time his arms wrap around your waist tighter.
You continue with the act, littering his pretty neck with your touch and loving how he just lets you. Knowing that he’ll show up at work tomorrow looking a bit tired, but glowing nonetheless, trying to hide all these marks with that tight-necked collar he likes to wear.
“Whatever you want.” He breathes, letting his hips lose rhythm for just a moment as he feels his muscles tighten. “Fuck, you’re still so tight.”
You feel like you’re on top of the world as he compliments you, to the point you’re not sure when you’ll cum because your whole body has seemingly been feeling euphoria anyway. Everything feels good, even if his cock reaches deep enough to cause little jolts of pain. The sound of the desk scooting back through the force of his hips is enough to make you take it. Enough to squeeze your legs around him tighter, enough to clench, enough to– forget what you’re doing and let yourself fall into it with him.
Your head falls back from his neck and you pant out little half-calls of his name with each thrust. Your legs loosen from around him too, but his grip on your waist only pushes you back on his desk. Until he’s leaning forward so hard with each thrust that suddenly your back meets the cold wood.
Sandwiched between him and his desk, he follows the action, his hands quickly moving from your waist to your tits, pushing them together just so he can nuzzle his face between them.
There, you look at him. You really look at him.
What a messy, messy, man. Always so pristine during working hours, now looking so wrecked and out of it as he chases a pleasure that you hope only you can give to him.
“Mr. Park–” You sigh out in a pleasant voice, watching the way he sucks your tit into his mouth before his eyes open wide just so he can look up at you through each thrust. “Harder.”
You can physically see the way his eyes darken when he pops off from your tit, hands now going back to the desk as he hovers over you and intentionally rolls his hips.
You feel his cock loosen you up painfully before he intentionally fucks into you. Dragging all the way out, just to push forward in a deep and painful thrust. Over and over again, all while he’s staring straight into your eyes.
As you look up at him, you see the intent in his face. The way he wants to give you exactly what you want. Sweat shining from his cheeks, his neck littered with pretty colors. Oh, he’s actually heavenly when he fucks.
Better than what you thought that guy on camera would have been. He’s not nonchalant like he was when he was performing. He’s entirely in tune with you and what you want. Like what you want is what he wants.
You can tell he’s paying no mind to his own face or expression, blatantly putting all of his thoughts into how he’s pleasuring you, his eyes searching your face to tell him he’s doing well. To tell him you feel good, to tell him you’re close or–
“Fuck–” He sighs out, teeth tracing his bottom lip as he glances up, keeping pace with the way he’s been plunging into you. “I can’t keep looking at you,”
You smile, feeling dazed and far away. It feels like it’s just you and him. You’re not in his office, on a desk, or doing anything you shouldn’t be doing.
“You hear me?” He drops his body weight on you again, letting his hips move freely as he chases and chases. “I’m so close.”
Oh.
“Then look at me.” You huff out, now shooting a hand between his flexed abs and simply…touching your clit once.
“Oh–shit.”
It hits you so fast. Just a simple touch causes your pussy to clench Sunghoon so tightly that he mimics your sound.
“Ah, fuck- fuck,” His voice sounds frantic as he tries to pull out, only to feel your legs shoot back around him. This time, he lets you force him to stay. He lets those legs of yours push him back in, so deep that he knows he can’t fight. “No, no–” He chokes out, uncaring if his hips show you that he’s lying with his words. “I’m cumming– I need to–”
“Stay!” You shake beneath him but your voice sounds pleading, pressing once more to your clit before letting it go. You clench him again, essentially letting your body finish him off. Letting those clenches squeeze him so tightly, making sure he couldn’t fathom ever wasting his cum. “Don’t pull out.”
He doesn’t. In fact, he presses impossibly deeper, trying to bury his cock into you to the point it even pains him. Arms shaking as he tries to hold himself up again, only to drop his lips to yours under his own weight. His hips are so tense between your legs, his cock is so stiff that you can feel each pumped release, and still you’re experiencing your own euphoria through it.
To the point your toes are curling and you barely notice the way you leave welts across his back from your fingernails through the intense orgasm. To the point his slack lips against yours feel more natural than anything else. Not kissing, just close. So close that–
He kisses you.
After it’s all said and done, he still kisses you breathlessly. Passionately almost, clinging to you as his cock twitches as it grows flaccid inside of you.
He doesn’t pull out, he just…kisses.
And as you lay against his wooden desk, body coming down from the pleasure you’ve felt more than once within the past hour, all you can do is let your brain think on its own. Without shame, without embarrassment or anxiety.
You thought Sunghoon would have been in control the whole time. Teasing you, maybe even making this experience more painful than it needs to be. But no, he…
He’s soft. Gentle, almost.
Only now do you recognize that as badly as he probably wants to appear harsh, like the confident man he is on camera, you think he needs something else. Not just power, not just money or control. Not even just fucking.
You think…maybe, Sunghoon needs connection.
Intimacy.
And that’s proven when he does finally stand on his own buckled knees, pulling you up with him into a hug where he still kisses you. Up until he takes that shirt you unbuttoned and holds it between your legs, scratching the back of his neck with a shy glance at you.
“Sorry for the mess.” He echoes in a meek voice, holding that shirt firm against you. “Guess I just couldn’t help myself.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
Days later, you find yourself in his bed. Which should have been expected probably. Still doesn’t change the fact that every few hours, you remind yourself the reality of the situation.
It’s not just any bed you’re in. It’s Sunghoon’s bed.
“Oh, right. The promotion.” Sunghoon suddenly calls out mid-episode.
You’ve been here with him all day. To the point neither of you bother to put on clothes now because you know the spark will come back at any given time and you’ll be all over each other again. Still, lazing in his bed with him on a Saturday afternoon is nice.
“I’ve been a bit occupied but– the interviews for the assistant position has been pushed back a bit due to you not coming to work. I was supposed to notify you when you got back, but you know, we had priorities–”
Sunghoon sighs, embarrassed. It’s nice actually, seeing him in his natural element. Allowing you to see him as more than just the guy that wears a suit and tie every day at work.
“Unrelated to us…doing this, but, you’re up for the interview. Just need to schedule it with me. If you still want to be my assistant, I mean.”
“Oh, I can only imagine what that could entail.”
Sunghoon seems offended by this remark as he pulls back with furrowed brows.
“Excuse me?”
“Did you fuck the last one too?” You give him a playful smile, prodding at his soft-skinned chest.
“Absolutely not?!”
“You’re still gonna fuck me too though, right? Even if I’m constantly having to nag you for signatures and meetings?”
Sunghoon stares at you before smiling.
“Well, let's see if you get the job anyway. Rhonda from Marketing is applying too.”
You lend a half-joke gag at him.
“Is it too forward to ask for special attention for the position along with a sexual favor?” You tread the thin line. “I’m half joking but wouldn’t it be like…normal for us to be seen around each other at work if I’m working a job that requires it?”
Sunghoon thinks hard.
“You’re really asking to fuck your way up the ladder?”
“Aren’t you the one who offered it so I wouldn’t tell your dirty little secret?” You narrow your eyes at him. “But no, I’m asking for the job I’ve been trying to earn for ages. Besides, I’d still fuck you anyway.”
“Fair.” Sunghoon thinks harder still. “Rhonda would probably find out too, if she were to get the position anyway, considering my assistants are often intertwined in my personal business as well.”
“Oh, I’m personal business now?”
“Babe, my hand has been on your tit for an hour now.”
Well, he’s not wrong.
“Rhonda is really close with HR too…” You trail off, feeling a bit anxious. “I think she’d hold it over both of us if she found out.”
“In all fairness, you’ve been considered for the job more than a few times the past few months. Rhonda only applied during your two week avoidance of me. The reason she’s even up for the position is because my boss thinks you’re too flaky.”
Oh, so you have a chance with or without putting his dick in your mouth again?
“Who else has applied?”
“Confidential.” Sunghoon shrugs. “I still have to follow company rules even if we’re breaking a few of them right now. What I can tell you is, over fifteen other candidates have already been phased out by me personally.”
You pause.
“Why?”
“Bad matches, mostly. Two of them have been caught talking shit about me through the company emails, and the others? Many outside applicants, all freshman college students with strict schedules.”
“Being my assistant is not an easy job, and even before all of this, you’ve practically been doing the job already, better than the current assistant I have.”
You damn fucking right you have.
“How many are still in the running?”
“Two.”
Oh, this job is soooooo yours.
“Just, one more thing.” Sunghoon sighs. “If you get this job, we cannot be fucking in my office. No sexual stuff at work. We can take lunch together, or I’ll bring you home after work, but absolutely nothing at work.”
Oh, he thinks you want him that badly?
“Who says I need to fuck you during work hours anyway? I know how to control myself.”
“It’s not you who I’m worried about.” Sunghoon looks away, biting the inside of his cheek.
“Yeah?” You smile. “You gonna be calling me into your office just to torture yourself?”
“Oh, absolutely.”
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
pls remember to leave feedback and reblog! :D love you!
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
like she used to (IV)
alexia putellas x sister chapter I, II, III
sorry this took longer! have been very busy with work and uni for the past few days :)
~~~~~~
Aitana has been suspicious of something all week. I feel her eyes on me during training, when we're in the locker room, as she drives me home and as I walk up to my front door.
But she doesn't say anything and I am grateful. Because if she did say something, I don't think I would be able to answer without telling her every single thing on my mind.
Nobody wants that. Not me, not Aitana. Probably not Alexia either.
So instead, I sit in the midfielder's car quietly, only speaking when she prompts me to, although even that has slowed down over the past few days. She was confused the first time I told her I didn't want to stop for ice cream, and I was grateful that she didn't ask again.
"you're sure? You've never refused ice cream before, lena!"
All I could do was shake my head, keeping my eyes focused on the road ahead.
I get home and I go straight to my room which is easy enough, considering Mami comes home from work late. I am supposed to be going to school, but Aitana doesn't know that and Mami doesn't know any different. She thinks I am there, and as long as I pick up the phone to my personal tutor in the evening, the school won't bother contacting my mother.
I shouldn't be skipping school, but I can't face going there and being asked all those questions about how great it is to be training in the first team, to finally have broken through into a squad that I would hopefully play with for most of my career.
But it isn't great, not really. My life has become a game of hide and seek, escaping rooms that my sister enters, too afraid to even face her.
I am not scared of her, more of what she will say. I am barely coping as it is and anything she says will just make it worse. It is best to just leave her alone, keep my distance.
And I think she thinks the same. She said she was going to take a step back, after all.
Not that is has been any different from before she took that step back. Her back was already against the wall, on the other side of the room from me. Any further and she would leave my life completely which does not seem possible, considering we play for the same club.
But I wish she wasn't so far away, I wish that I could just reach out and grab her attention, for her to know that I needed help without even having to ask.
And it hurts me, more than I'd like to admit, that her friends know exactly how to make me feel better, to make me feel valued, worthy. But she is just there, like a fly on the wall, always watching but never doing anything.
Even the more clueless ones have started to realise that things are not perfect between me and Alexia. We are never in the same room together, I leave training with Aitana every day. It is obvious, we all know it.
So they don't push us together. They don't talk about Alexia to me and they don't ask why we don't drive home together, why she isn't the first person to give me a hug if I score in training.
They don't want me to be compared to her any more than I already have been.
Because on top of all the personal issues, there is a lot of pressure, being her sister.
'Will Elena Putellas follow in her sister's footsteps?'
'The younger Putellas - set to be better than Alexia Putellas, but still hasn't come off the Barcelona bench.'
I've seen the articles, of course I have. Nobody ever mentions it though, nobody mentions the pressure I am under, the pressure I feel to live up to the expectations.
Of course I will not score as many goals as her, of course I will not make a debut at the end of the match like a midfielder often does. It is a lot harder for a centre back to come on as a last minute sub. It is harder for a centre back to score so many goals.
There are feasible reasons why they are saying these things, but none of the news sites think to explore those reasons, exclusively focusing on the negatives.
I don't bring it up because I think that if I mention something even slightly about my emotions, every single thing I feel will all come rushing out, a tsunami wave that will destroy everything I have worked towards.
I have to be strong; I can't let a little bit of pressure overcome me. Alexia had pressure, and she was never swallowed by it.
Alexia was not weak. I can not be weak.
But it feels like the tide has been pulled back, brewing in the deep dark depths of the ocean, preparing to build and build and build until it all becomes too much, until it is here, a huge wave ready to swallow me. Too late to escape, too late to stop it.
But quelling the wave does not seem like something I can do.
The only thing I can do about it is play my piano.
It is thing I am most grateful for, my piano that brings me closer to my father, the one thing I have that nobody else does.
I may not have his memories, but I don't think any memories could match the connection I feel, just sitting on his stool, my fingers dancing on the keys that his hands once graced, the keys that we used to play together.
It was the one thing that we shared, just the two of us. Something that neither of my sisters or my Mami could understand. All they know is to leave me be when I am playing the piano. I don't want to be interrupted and they don't want to face the wrath of my anger if I am stopped before I am finished.
Because it is the only way I can express my emotions and the emotions do not stop coming until the song is finished, until there is a puddle of tears in my lap, fed by the streams that track down my cheeks.
So they leave me be. I want them to leave me with my emotions when I play the piano. But they also leave me with my emotions when I sit in the lounge room, staring at a blank tv screen, staring out the window at just about nothing in particular. I wish they would realise that I don't always want to be left with my emotions.
I wish they could notice that something may be wrong, something more than just the loss of my sister.
Because it feels like more than that. I have never felt so lost in my life.
There is just so much going through my mind at any one time and I can't let it out because once I start I will not be able to stop until my walls have burst and I am nothing but an empty shell of who I was before.
Everything I once was is gone.
Replaced by confusion, hurt, sadness.
And I don't know why, because Alexia isn't all of me, football isn't all of me.
I know it shouldn't be but it feels like it is and even though Alba is right there as well, and Mami and my friends from La Masia, all I can think of is the fact that my older sister doesn't want to be my older sister any more.
And I can't stop thinking about what it could be like, if it was still what it used to be.
~~~~~~
I spend another two weeks wallowing in my confusingly overwhelming emotions before Mapi decides to intervene, intercepting me as I walk towards Aitana after training once again.
"No, you are coming with me today, pequena!"
I didn't even realise Mapi was here, her rehab finishes at the same time as Alexia, an hour before training ends.
She beams and throws her arm over my shoulder, ignoring my disgruntled expression.
"I will see you tomorrow, ABC." I murmer softly, but both Spaniards can hear it.
They both think I am too short to see the concerned look they throw at each other, but I notice it. I notice everything.
Mapi guides me out of the facilities and into her car and I can feel her concern grow as she inspects me from the drivers seat.
"You are not ok, Elena."
Her words are soft but understanding. It surprises me how she could just pick it up like that, I thought it was less obvious.
I thought it was less obvious because nobody has brought it up to me before.
I shake my head, not trusting myself to say anything without crying, although at this point it feels inevitable.
"That's ok. It's ok to not be ok, you know?"
I nod and she continues.
"When you came over the other week, I told you to talk to someone, but I don't think you have, have you?"
I continue my vow of silence by shaking my head, my eyes concentrated on how my hands shake and fidget in my lap.
I am too concentrated on my hands to realise that my eyes have filled with tears, to realise that the first one has slipped out. I only notice when the fat tear lands with a splat on my thumb and I stare at it, my mind full of confusion and unfamiliarity.
I don't understand how I feel, because I feel sad, and angry. They are normal emotions, ones that I have always felt, just usually in a less aggressive and persistent way.
But I feel so... lost, isolated. I feel alone and that is something I am not familiar with, not at all. Usually, I would talk to Alexia about my anger and sadness, but this has been going on for so long, slowly chipping away at my self-confidence, at my happiness. Now all I can feel is the loss of someone. Someone so important.
I may be dramatic, but how else would I describe it? She decided she was too busy and threw me away, a piece of rubbish. How am I supposed to cope with the fact that it's all I am to Alexia?
We used to be so strong as a family, we were always there for each other, nobody left behind. But I can't help but feel like I have been, just a bit.
Mami and Alba love me, Mami and Alba are proud of me. But Mami gets home after I go to bed and Alba has her own life, her own friends. She doesn't need to be pulled back by her little sister who has lost the ability to deal with her own emotions.
It would not be fair for me to pile my problems with Alexia onto Alba. It would not be fair to make her pick a side.
Alexia could be the person that helps me. We have similar schedules, interests, personalities. She knew me like the back of her hand and I knew her equally as well. But I don't think I have ever felt so disconnected from her.
Mapi snaps me out of my daydreaming when she speaks again.
"It is not healthy to keep everything inside of you, pequena, so we are going to the beach and we are talking. I am going to force it out of you because I miss my bright little best friend."
She reaches over and wipes the tears from my eyes, awkwardly pulling me into a hug.
"Everything is going to be ok. You are going to be ok, Elena Putellas, because you have me."
I nod, leaning back into my chair and using my palms to wipe my eyes as Mapi turns the car on and begins to drive out of the carpark.
"Thank you, Mapi." It is a whisper, but she hears me loud and clear, offering me a watery smile before focusing her attention right back onto the road ahead.
The car is quiet as we drive to the beach, Mapi just humming along to her song.
Mapi has always been a big talker. She always says she finds silences uncomfortable and sometimes even slightly overwhelming, so she talks. She talks and talks at a speed that makes it practically impossible to register what she is saying, and the inability to comprehend her spoken thoughts is only heightened by the way she jumps from topic to topic, her voice only increasing in speed and excitement as she gets more and more carried away.
But she is Mapi, and Mapi always talks, so I got used to it, finding her chattiness endearing, she was fun, always happy.
Which is why it is so meaningful when she isn't speaking, like she knows that her words are fruitless and likely not particularly tasteful - they won't be received well.
She is silent as we walk down to the beach and as she lays her rug and pillows out, sitting down and motioning for me to sit down next to her.
She is quiet for a few moments, like she is debating within herself on what she should say and when she should say it, captivated by the way he waves crash onto the sand cyclically, the beaming rays of sun showering the crystal water, the first indicators of the imminent sunset.
When she speaks, it is slow and it is quiet. Her words hug me in a way that has been missed for so long, and I immediately soften; she would have noticed my shoulders relaxing underneath her arm.
"I remember when I first met you." Her eyes are closed and a soft smile rests on her face. "It was before I even joined Barcelona, at my third camp with Spain. I had heard about you before, from Alexia, I knew so much about you from how much she would gush about everything you did every time I spoke to her. In person, over text, she was obsessed with you and sometimes I didn't understand why it seemed like all she spoke about was her little 5 year old sister."
She chuckles, but I stay silent, still staring out at the ocean.
"But then I met you and I immediately understood why she wouldn't stop talking about you. You radiated this happiness, like a little sunbeam. Alexia got you from the barricade after a match, it was only my second ever appearance, but Alexia brought you right over to me and introduced us. You grabbed onto my leg and held it, almost yelling about how cool it was that there was another player to meet."
I smile. I have never heard this story before.
"And then the next time, you recognised me and I was so surprised, so happy. But you were also happy, Elena, you always were smiling, laughing. You would hang from your sisters shoulders and whack her on the back, swinging around in her arms and laughing so loudly that we could hear you from the other side of the pitch. You were always like that, every time I saw you. I found myself looking forward to spain camps even more, because I got to see little Elena Putellas with her big smile and cheeky personality. But recently, I think you have lost a bit of your spark because you do not seem as happy. You seem miserable, lena, and I want to help you find that spark again because I promise, it is not gone forever. It has just been buried so deep by all these emotions that are so big and overwhelming and you can't even find who you are anymore."
Her words strike a cord, and I find that my eyes fill with tears once more, but I do everything I do to hold them back as I speak. There is a long moment of silence as we both look out at the waves before I break it with a quiet inhalation.
"I am so scared, Mapi." My voice breaks but I continue anyway. "I don't know who I am anymore and it is so scary. I don't know what happened or where I went but one day I woke up and I was just a miserable shell of the person I was and I don't know what to do."
She is quick to pull me into a hug as the tears start falling because we both know that once I let out the first cry, I will not be able to stop. Her soft hands through my hair and calm words that flow through the small space we occupy will do nothing to calm the turmoil I am feeling on the inside.
Thinking about it only makes it worse, like I am shaking everything up so it rises to the surface instead of letting it lay undisturbed deep inside of me.
But Mapi's words were like stepping into a turbulent plane, shaking uncontrollably, fear falling over me and triggering emotions that I didn't even realise I had inside of me. The dirt hazes up the water until everything is a big whirlwind of confusion. Emotions moving around to quickly to capture them and try to understand them.
The things I want caught up in the whirlwind of unwelcome mess, the whirlwind that I can't seem to get myself out of.
The injured centre back whispers calm words of affirmation into my ear for a while, her hand stroking up and down my back. It keeps me down to earth, does not let me fall into the trap of a million emotions.
"We will find who you are again, Elena. I will always be here to help you. I am right here."
I want to tell her that I want my sisters to be there to help me. I want Alexia to come back and I want Alba to realise that there is something wrong. But neither of them were there like Mapi is. Alba has tried to be there for me, but she doesn't get it because I don't know what to say.
But all I do is cry in her arms. The sobs soften into quiet whimpers as the sun sets, casting a yellow glow over the beach, but we stay there even as the air becomes cooler and the sky becomes darker.
Mapi decides that I will not be going home that night, not trusting me to take proper care of herself and instead taking me back to her apartment again.
Ingrid is there this time, and she looks at her girlfriend with concern when we walk in, immediately noticing my red face and puffy eyes.
"Hey, Elena." She smiled at me, but I was preoccupied by the little black cat that had begun to circle my legs.
"We had a chat on the beach and decided that because her Mami isn't home, she would stay here the night again."
I picked up Bagheera, tickling under her chin as I sat down on the sofa, trying to ignore the wary glances that were being sent in my direction by the Spaniard and Norwegian.
"I don't know what to do."
Mapi's words were hushed, and by the way she immediately spoke more quietly when she saw my head whip towards them, it is clear that they were not for my ears.
But as I fiddle with Bagheera's fur, I dissect her words. More than I should and definitely more than she wants me to.
She doesn't know what to do with me. She doesn't know how to help, how to fix what has been broken.
She doesn't know whether she should talk to Alexia because it would break my trust. Because telling Alexia could just make it all so much worse.
I think I have been holding onto hope that she really is that clueless and is trying to do what she thinks is best for me. I try to hope that is the reason this has all happened, and not because she simply has forgotten about me, or because she doesn't want to be responsible for me any more.
But honestly, I think it is a mix of all of that. And I think it has evolved from guilt, not watching my games, wanting to avoid the awkward conversations that could have arisen if she had apologised to me.
I wish she knew that an apology would make all the difference. A sincere one, from her heart.
Unprovoked. Just her, being truly apologetic.
Because as humiliating as it is, I would do anything to be back in her arms. I would do anything to have my older sister back, I wish that she would just do something that would make this all go away, to pick up the pieces of my shattered insides and stitch them back together. Eventually, the stitches would dissolve, I would forget all about them and I would be able to function normally again.
But Alexia is not a surgeon, and she would not be able to do that stitching seamlessly. She would use glue, but even that won't put it all back together so perfectly.
There is no way for her to just put it back together and pretend it never happened, to move on like this was just a blip. Because I am different now, I have grown. She has missed so much of my early teenage years - the years that I have most needed her help.
But I am not even sure that Alexia wants that any more; I don't know if she wants to fix this all up and move on.
The dinner table is quiet as I pick at my meal, Mapi encouraging me to eat more than a few bites, claiming she won't leave until my plate has been cleaned up.
Ingrid doesn't utter a single word, instead her green eyes piercing through my skin. I feel exposed to Ingrid, as if she can read everything, understand everything, just from one simple glance.
It is ridiculous, but she is deep in thought so I don't say anything to her either.
It is only when Mapi opens her mouth again that Ingrid's eyes flick over to her girlfriend.
"Does Alba know you feel like this? Or your Mami?"
It is a simple question, but strikes a chord.
No, neither of them know. Neither of them have even noticed a change.
I shake my head roughly, and Ingrid releases a scoff.
I look up, offended.
"What?"
She turns her head to me, confused, so I continue.
"It is not my fault! It is not easy to talk about these things."
"No, no. Elena, that was not directed at you."
She seems apologetic so I have to believe her. I push my chair back, attempting to leave the room with a clutter, cursing my misty eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day.
But me exit is not as seamless as I would have liked, and Mapi is standing right in front of me when I get up, wrapping her arms around me.
It is supposed to be to trap me, but Mapi's arms will never not be a comfort.
I immediately relax into her grip, sighing softly.
"I am so confused."
~~~~~~
Mapi's hands were running through my hair, my lap on the sofa as the tv played that evening. It had been an hour since dinner and the three of us had moved into the lounge room, the silence being filled by the Spanish show on the screen.
But there was a knock on the door and Ingrid sighed, standing up to open it, knowing that neither Mapi or I would get up.
It was both surprising and unsurprising to see Aitana standing there, her hair messy and over of her face, as if she had just been in bed.
"Is Mapi still awake?"
She didn't bother to greet Ingrid, clearly here for a reason. Why else would she have arrived at almost 11 at night.
I couldn't hear Ingrid's response, but I could hear Mapi speaking to me.
"She's worried about you too, Elena. You-"
I love Aitana, I always have.
"I know she is, she is terrible at hiding it. But she has avoided bringing it up. If she wanted me to talk to her I would try my best to, but she hasn't."
Again, I love Aitana and I know she has my best interests at heart. She knows I need to talk about everything to someone, but she also knows that I don't want to. She doesn't want to push even though I can tell she is worried. She is stressed.
Ingrid and Aitana enter as soon as I finish speaking, the Spaniard almost running to where I am lying, placing her hand on my cheek.
"You have been crying."
It is blunt, a bit surprising. I don't really know what to expect from Aitana, she has always been the light hearted one who never would shy from telling me how great I was, but we have never really spoken about melancholy emotions like these.
I suppose there has never really been a need to in the past, that is what Alexia and Alba were for.
She sits down on the floor in front of my face, her knees up to her chest as she stares at me, intensity in her eyes. It is not unlike the intensity she often displays on the pitch, motivated and passionate.
"I will help you." She is decisive. "We will fix this."
I nod softly and she runs her hand down my cheek.
"You are too young to be feeling like this, little Lena. I am sorry I let it get this far."
I look at her in confusion and she pauses before continuing.
"I knew something was wrong. I went to your games at La Masia."
I can tell Mapi is listening closer now.
"I know she didn't go to any."
Mapi gasps, quite loudly, and Aitana gives her a frustrated look, rolling her eyes softly.
"I should have said something to her. She doesn't realise how important you are, how lucky she is to have you."
I frown at her words.
"Lucky?"
It hasn't something I'd ever considered my sisters to be, having to look after a small child for most of their adolescence. Having to please me for so long.
"I used to dream of having a baby sister like you, she is lucky."
Mapi decides it is her turn to add something to the conversation.
"She loves you, Elena, she always has. Of course she thought she was lucky. She needed someone to help her pick on Alba."
There is suddenly a lump in my throat. I think it is the mention of the before that triggered it. The memories are too hard to handle, I usually avoid them at all costs.
My eyes become wet again, apparently, but Aitana just laughs softly.
"You two were just so mean to her, the poor thing."
Mapi lets out a chuckle from above me as well, and I find my mouth turning upwards into a smile.
"I probably should apologise now, shouldn't I?"
Aitana shakes her head, not able to hold back her laughs and Mapi is the same from where I can not see her.
It is when I finally laughed that I feel Mapi soften beneath me and see Aitana exhale a soft sigh of relief. They thought I wouldn't notice, but I did. I notice everything.
"We will fix this, ok?" Aitana was somewhat serious again, her hand patting my face. "We have a day off tomorrow, I will be here and we can all talk. We can all decide what to do next."
"Why are you two doing all this for me?"
Aitana sighs and Mapi's hands pause in my hair.
The midfielder looks above me, as if encouraging her to reply, but I speak up again before she can.
"Alexia is your captain, your teammate. She is your best friend, Mapi. Why are you doing so much for me when we are not speaking?"
There is another pause. It looks like Aitana is about to hit Mapi on the head, but the Spaniard speaks up before she can.
"Alexia has so many people behind her. Alexia is strong, she is experienced and she is older than you. You are just young, pequena and you are so lonely and lost. We want to help the both of you, but we need to help you first."
She pauses and Aitana finds the time to interject. It is like they have been talking about me.
Come to think of it, they probably have.
"You looked like you were going to burst. We knew that you and Alexia weren't speaking, that both of you were having a hard time because of it. But Elena, you looked destroyed. We couldn't leave you to your own devices any more. And Elena, we are doing this because we love you. So, so much."
"Alexia loves you too. More than us. She just does not do a great job of showing it, that's all."
I sigh softly, falling backwards into Mapi's lap, wondering just what I have done to deserve this.
How luckyI am to have my older sisters friends there looking out for me.
Because my family was falling apart and it was my fault. I couldn't do everything alone.
I choose not to think about what would happen if Mapi and Aitana weren't here like they are.
A tear slips down my face again, but this time it is not so sad. It is full of emotion, a grateful tear. Not quite happy, but not sad either.
"Thank you."
~~~~~~
hope you enjoyed :)
this chapter was more to gauge where elena is at, sorry if it was boring!
part V
#woso#woso fanfics#woso imagine#barca femeni#fcb femení#alexia putellas x reader#alexia putellas#mapi leon#aitana bonmati
299 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thanks for being patient with me! This is edited on about four hours of sleep so apologies for any errors <3
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.6k words
Water sizzles on the stove. You reach over to turn down the heat, your side heating from its proximity to the boiling water, before spinning back around to keep speed-chopping onion. This is a result of poor planning.
It’s possible that some of your nerves could be reinterpreted as excitement. Giddiness, even. You’re finally—finally—doing something to try and repay all the kindness James shows you. You’ve felt like such a mooch, eating his cooking and stealing his time with his friends, but last week had been too much for you to take. He’d discovered the stomach bug you were weathering, and James had completely devoted the next two days of his life to making sure you were looked after.
Your fever had gotten so out of hand he’d very nearly followed through on his favorite threat (going into your phone while you’re sleeping and phoning your mum), and though you’d done your best to downplay it at the time there are admittedly gaps in your memory wherein you think you were simply too out of it to know what was going on. It’s not a very comforting thought when you’re harboring a humiliating crush on your roommate; you may well have been just as talkative as James always is, you don’t know. At least he hasn’t said anything.
He had, thankfully, managed to avoid catching it. You’re not sure how he managed what no one on your shift at work did, but you assume it has something to do with all that kale he eats. Which is why you’re doing your best to make the thank-you meal you’re making him as healthy as might suit his standards.
You hear his key in the door, and a little frisson goes up your spine.
“You’re early,” you accuse as he walks in.
“Since when do you know when my training ends?” James asks. You sound like you’re sniping at one another, but as usual the joviality in his tone is unmissable.
The sounds of his entrance are familiar, perhaps more ingrained in your mind than they ought to be. Keys jingling as he hangs them on the hook, shoes toed off and left by the mat, heavy footsteps headed for wherever you are in the apartment.
When he finds you in the kitchen, you both speak at once.
“What happened to your shoulder?”
“You know how to cook?”
“Hurt it at training,” James answers, shrugging with the shoulder that doesn’t have an ice pack held to it. He’s probably too nice for it to occur to him to withhold his answer until you’ve given yours, as had been your first thought. “What are you making?”
“How did you hurt it?” Worry pries at your tone. Your hands have stilled on the cutting board.
“We had a scrimmage, and I got shoulder-barged.” He gives you a smile, a shadow of the real thing, but gentler. Reassuring. “It’s not bad.”
You frown. “I don’t know what that means.”
“Didn’t expect you to, love.”
“Why do you need to ice it if it’s not bad?”
There’s a look in James’ eyes that’s wavering between smugness and softness. You balk at the sight of it. “I need to be a bit careful with it,” he hedges, “but it’ll be good by morning. Now, you’ve distracted me. Do you mean to tell me you’ve known how to cook this entire time?”
“Yes,” you concede with a laugh. “I’ve always said I cook for myself when you’re not around.”
“And here you are, doing it right before my eyes.” James leans on the counter with his good arm. He looks immensely entertained. “I’m honored.”
“This isn’t just for me,” you say, looking down to resume chopping onion as your face warms slightly. “It’s for—” Another remonstrative hiss from the stove, and you whip around, moving the pot off the hot part entirely. You’re a bit relieved for the excuse to face away from him. “It’s for both of us. Also, I just want to provide a disclaimer right now that I never said I was good at cooking, only that I knew how.”
James’ laugh rumbles behind you, just as you knew it would. He’s too easy. You can practically feel the force of his smile hitting your back, like the sunshine brought inside.
“Here,” he says, taking a couple of steps toward you, “let me help.”
“No!” You whirl again, stopping him before he can actually enter the kitchen. “No way. James, I’m trying to do something nice.”
“And it is very nice,” he says, earnest. “It just seems like you could use a hand.”
“I’ve got it,” you insist. Your hands are up to ward him off, but you put them at your sides when you realize how close they’re hovering to his chest. “It doesn't count as doing something for you if you do it yourself. Anyway, you’re incapacitated.”
“I’m…” James looks confused, but then he glances down to his icing shoulder. “Oh, come on. I’m hardly immobilized.”
“For all intents and purposes, you are.” You do your best to infuse your voice with conviction. You’ve found that’s usually the way with James. If you show any hesitation, he’ll turn on the charm and have you eating out of his hand before you know what’s happened. You herd him away from the kitchen. “Go sit down. Dinner will be ready soon.”
You can’t help but be aware of him as you finish up, knowing he has to hear the sizzling when you accidentally spill things onto the stove or the one mumbled curse you’re not quick enough to bite back. All evidence that you’re not nearly as practiced a cook as James. You can practically feel his grin from a room over. Still, when it's done you’re fairly proud of yourself.
James is beaming as he accepts his bowl. He hikes his knees up so you can pass between the couch and the coffee table, making a show of sniffing the steam rising from the food.
“Is this risotto?” he asks, waiting for your little nod before his mouth drops open in astonishment. “You are so sneaky! I didn’t know you could cook at all, let alone fancy shit like this.”
“It’s not that hard to make.” You look down at your fork as you raise it to your lips, blowing.
“Sure it is! Loads of people have a hard time with it.”
“Do you?”
James grins, caught. You feel your own smile tugging at your lips as you take a bite.
He follows suit, forking a bit of the risotto and blowing to cool it before taking it in his mouth. His eyes dip closed, head lolling back, and he moans.
“Oh my god, this is good. I’m never cooking again, now that I know you can do this.”
You take another bite to avoid a response. You’re fairly sure the heat from your face could power the apartment for a month.
James makes a few more over-the-top compliments of your culinary skills, which you deflect as best you can. As always, you eat mostly silently while he chatters, but when you look over your attention gets snagged on his shoulder.
He’s only using the one hand to eat, bowl resting in his lap while you hold yours up closer to your face. His ice pack sits beside him now that he can’t hold it on anymore. You catch yourself gnawing on the inside of your lip.
“Does it hurt?” you ask.
James looks over, following your gaze. “Yeah,” he admits. “Nothing I’m not used to, though.”
You feel your eyebrows pinch. “You get hurt often?”
He smiles bemusedly. “It’s rugby, love. Getting a bit roughed up is part of the deal.”
This doesn’t sit right with you. Though you hadn’t pondered it much before, you realize you’ve sort of been thinking of James, with his muscles and constant smiles and easygoing manner, as somewhat invincible. He seems like such a source of light in the world, it hadn’t occurred to you that anything bad could happen to him. You don’t like the idea of him being hurt. In any capacity.
You realize this is likely playing out on your face when you notice James watching you. His eyes are soft. “As much as I would love to milk this for attention and maybe a sponge bath,” he says, setting his fork in his bowl, “it’s really not that bad. See?”
He pulls down the sleeve of his shirt, and the effort to placate you is wasted. You take in a quiet, horrified gasp at the deeply colored bruise on James’ shoulder. One of your hands raises as if to touch it. It hovers in the space between you.
“That’s not that bad?” you look at James in alarm. “It looks broken.”
“It’s not,” he laughs. It’s a bit awkward, as close to self-conscious as you’ve ever seen him. “Trust me, I’ve had a couple broken bones in my time. It’s only bruised, and the muscle’s a bit strained.”
The muscle, you’re noticing now, is quite substantial. Your focus is on the bruise, but the shoulder beneath it is eye-catching as well, hefty and taut-looking, presumably from the strain. That, or James is flexing.
You raise your gaze quickly to his. Brown eyes tinged with smugness.
“You’re worried about me.” His lips stretch into a grin. Not your favorite one in his arsenal. “Aw, sweetheart, I love you too.”
You direct your attention back to your food, face hotter than hot. “I have justification for worry,” you say, the teasing tone you were going for undercut by the unintentional softness of your voice. “You’re voluntarily participating in a sport that seems like it’s trying to kill you.”
James takes a self-satisfied bite of his risotto. “I don’t know, I was pretty worried when you fainted in my arms last week.”
You side-eye him suspiciously. “I didn’t actually do that.”
“Guess you’ll never know.”
#roommate!james potter#shy!reader#roommate!james potter x shy!reader#james potter au#james potter#james potter x shy!reader#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter hurt/comfort#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader#marauders au
315 notes
·
View notes
Note
Gryffindor! Reader who always try to avoid mattheo because of the beef between houses. But mostly because of the rumors of the riddle brother. Mattheo knows this, it’s like a game of cat and mouse as it only ends up with mattheo teasing her until she’s flustered.
HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!
© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified
THE ANCIENT RIVALRY BETWEEN GRYFFINDOR AND SLYTHERIN WAS A WELL-KNOWN FACT AT HOGWARTS. it was a feud written in tradition and mutual dislike, carried on through generations of students. for you, a proud gryffindor, the tradition was not just a historical detail but a daily reality. especially when it came to avoiding mattheo riddle, the short tempered slytherin whose reputation preceded him.
it wasn’t just the typical house rivalry that made you steer clear of mattheo; it was the swirling rumors about him and his name. the whispers in the corridors, the hushed conversations in the common room – all painted him as someone to be wary of. despite this, there was an undeniable allure to him, a magnetism that made it increasingly difficult to ignore his presence.
mattheo seemed to take great delight in your attempts to avoid him. it was like a game of cat and mouse, one he played with a mischievous glint in his eyes. he had an uncanny ability to appear wherever you least expected him, always ready with a teasing remark or a sly smile that made your heart race.
one afternoon, you were hurrying through the courtyard, hoping to reach the library before dinner. the winter sun was low in the sky, casting long shadows over the cobblestones. you quickened your pace, hoping to evade any slytherins who might be lingering nearby.
"running from something, gryffindor?"
the familiar drawl stopped you in your tracks. you turned to see mattheo leaning against a stone pillar, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk playing on his lips. his dark curls fell into his eyes, which sparkled with amusement. he enjoyed this game between the two of you too much.
"no, just trying to get to the library," you replied, trying to sound indifferent. "some of us actually have work to do."
"ah, always the responsible student," he teased, pushing off from the pillar and sauntering over to you. "but you know, all work and no play makes for a very dull lion."
you rolled your eyes, but your heart was pounding against your rib cage. "i have enough excitement without adding you to the mix, riddle."
he stepped closer, his gaze intense. "oh i doubt that." he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. the casual touch sent a shiver down your spine. "why do you avoid me, really?"
you looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "you know why," you muttered.
"because of the rumors?" he asked and his voice visibly softened now. "you shouldn't believe everything you hear."
"it’s not just the rumors," you admitted. "it’s . . . well, you're you. and i am me. gryffindor and slytherin don't exactly mix well."
"who says we have to follow the rules?" he said, his tone challenging. "maybe we can make our own."
you couldn't help but glance up at him, caught by the sincerity in his voice. "why do you care so much, mattheo?"
"because i like you," he said simply. "and i think you like me too, even if you won't admit it."
your cheeks flushed, and you looked away again. "you’re impossible," you muttered, but there was no heat in your words this time.
"and you're adorable when you're flustered," he teased, his smirk returning.
before you could respond, the bell rang, signaling the end of the break. you took a step back, needing to put some distance between you and the overwhelming presence of mattheo riddle.
"i have to go.”
"i’ll see you around, princess," he called after you, his voice filled with a promise.
as you walked away, you couldn't help but smile. despite your best efforts, mattheo riddle was getting under your skin. and maybe, just maybe, that wasn't such a bad thing after all.
#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle masterlist#mattheo riddle blurb#mattheo riddle headcanon#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle#x reader#reader insert#mattheo x reader#mattheo x you#mattheoxreader#mattheo fluff#harry potter x reader#harry potter x you#harry potter imagine#harry potter fanfiction#slytherin boys#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin x reader#slytherin
244 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stray Kids and specific things they adore about you
pairing: bf!ot8 x gn!reader
genre: fluff, suggestive
warning/s: none? not proofread and i feel like i literally can't english today so sorry if there are mistakes!
a/n: tried to keep the reader gender neutral, hope this is okay! just something short while i work on my longer fics, enjoy!🩷
~check out my: Masterlist
Chan:
He adores when you talk about something you're passionate about. He loves when you get so invested, eyes wide in excitement, your hands making all sort of gestures, your whole body vibrating with happiness. Chan just melts when he sees you like that and he just wants to grab you, hold you tight and never let go. He smile is always so big when you're so enthusiastic and he looks lovestruck. You notice the way his eyes shine and you start feeling a little shy, asking him if he's even listening to you. And ofcourse he is, he can recite back everything you just said because that's how attentive he is towards you.
Lee Know:
Minho loves watching you get unready. Whenever you come back home from a date or a hangout with your friends, he follows you with his eyes as you take your coat and shoes off. He loves your little sighs of relaxation whenever you peel off anything restricting. He watches you as you take off your make up and you get a little self-conscious and ask,
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"- he smirks.
"Like you're mesmerized or something."- you smirk back.
"I don't know what you're talking about."- he grins and you shake your head, getting back to your skincare routine.
You can see his cheeks becoming rosy, eyes squinty as he smiles behind you in the mirror and your heart skips a beat.
Changbin:
He loves looking at your hands while you cook. I know, very specific but I feel like he admires the delicacy and the love you put into making food for the both of you. The way your hands move and look while you do something mundane like cutting veggies, cleaning the meat or grinding spices, I can just imagine him forgetting to actually help you as he leans his chin on his hand and just looks at you sweetly. You don't even notice at first since you're concentrated on what you're doing but then you hear a very loud dreamy sigh and you look at your boyfriend. The way he's staring at your hands makes butterflies swarm in your stomach.
"Binnie?"
"Mhm?"
"The pasta?"- you point towards the stove, since you put him on pasta stirring duty earlier.
"Whoops!"- he jumps up making you chuckle as you pat his butt, the butterflies still making a mess inside your stomach.
Hyunjin:
Hyunjin loves watching you sleep, not in a creepy way, but in a 'my love is finally getting the sleep they needs plus they looks beautiful while literally just existing'. He admires you so much, loves your features, every single one of them. Where you see an imperfection, he sees pure beauty. He's mapping out every single detail about you, imprinting it in his mind because his romantic soul wants to savour every moment he has next to you. Sometimes he takes his sketchbook out and draws you or paints you. If you start to stir awake, he's by your side immediately, his lips pressing sweet kisses all over your face and you smile, still half asleep.
Jisung:
He loves when you hum or whistle randomly while listening to music. You first start humming and then singing quietly and you don't even notice it. But Jisung always does and he thinks you're adorable when you get into it and you're not even aware. Your body moves ever so slightly, like you tap your foot, your head moves a little and your fingers play a fictional piano on any surface near you. Sometimes that surface is Jisung and he chuckles at your cuteness, breaking your trance.
"Sorry."- you mumble, your face warming up in embarassment.
"Don't be. We were just getting to the good part. Keep playing."- he smirks.
The initial embarassment wears off because a few moments later both of you can't sit still and a dance party ensues right there in your living room.
Felix:
Whenever you concentrate while you're reading or doing something. That something could be you getting lost in thoughts while you clean up, you just vibing and doing your thing, like a hobby you have or you concentrated on counting his freckles while you cuddle. You're oblivious to just how much he observes you without saying anything. That's how he remembers all of your little habits, your brows furrowing, nail between your teeth when you get to a particularly interesting part of your book. How you push your hair back when it gets in the way. You always lose all your scrunchies so he keeps one on his wrist the whole time and he watches you struggle a little just because your little sighs of frustration are cute to him before he comes up behind you and helps you tie your hair. You lean your head back and smile at him and he chuckles and kisses your forehead.
Seungmin:
Seungmin loves to see you shine. And by that I mean if you're extroverted or just around friends you can be extroverted with and you're talking to them, having fun, maybe even commanding the whole room just by telling a story and making everyone laugh, Seungmin will be at your side looking at you proudly. He's always proud of you and mesmerized by how easy it is for you to be in the spotlight like that. He also takes pride in the fact that you're his, this amazing witty person, the person making everyone's heads turn is his partner. That boosts his confidence so best be sure that he will show you just how proud he is to call you his when you come back home.
Jeongin:
Opposite of Minho, Jeongin loves watching you getting ready to go out. He'll offer to help brush your hair or help you style your outfit. Problem is, if you have a hard time deciding between a few outfits, your usually fashion expert of a boyfriend will have a hard time helping you because you just look so perfect to him, no matter what you're wearing. At this point, he's making you change outfits on purpose just so he can look at you more before you two go out. He loves helping you choose your jewelry and will always add something of his. Like a ring, bracelet, watch, necklace... Anything, he loves sharing with you. If you decide to also add a clothing item of his, he will be smitten by you and his face will probably be red because he's so excited about sharing his closet with you.
✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg
#skz x reader#stray kids#skz fluff#stray kids x reader#skz soft thoughts#skz soft hours#bang chan fluff#bang chan x reader#changbin x reader#changbin fluff#lee know x reader#lee know fluff#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin fluff#lee felix x reader#lee felix fluff#han jisung x reader#han jisung fluff#seungmin x reader#seungmin fluff#jeongin x reader#jeongin fluff#skz scenarios#skz ot8
148 notes
·
View notes
Note
In part 2 you mentioned Patrick x reader having makeup sex after they got into stupid argument…. Can we get a flashback to one of those moments🤭🤭 domestic Patrick starting an argument with reader and reader calling him out about it but they end up making up in a cute way. Like Patrick making it up in a corny but cute way??? Just a suggestion, part 2 was amazing btw!
Rating: T
Warnings: just a minor argument, language ofc
A/N: thank youuuu!!! No smut in this little blurb, just a snapshot of domestic Patrick x reader in the changeover au 🫶🫶🫶
Also working on art x reader first time and also Patrick x reader first I love you blurbs for the changeover au :) so those will be coming sooooon
It was easy to let the stupid arguments devolve. It started with a facial expression when you brought up your college roommate’s wedding. An eye roll, an I-don’t-want-to-fucking-deal-with-that. And that became your, “why do you treat my friends and my life as less important?”
“I can’t fucking believe you got that out of me wanting to ditch Katie’s wedding to her dickhead loser fiancé.” Patrick’s words came out so flippant that it infuriated you further. “You don’t even talk to her outside of Facebook comments.”
“I’m sorry, Patrick. I didn’t realize that you’d be so fucking opposed to free food and booze considering you live off of it.”
Patrick set his jaw, glaring at you. It was a low blow, one you knew would sting. “I’m opposed to wasting my time flying out to bum fuck Iowa to because Katie— who has always hated me, by the way— is marrying some dickhead who’s a shill for a corrupt asshole in congress.”
You rolled your eyes. “Maybe she would like you, Patrick, if you ever put in an ounce of effort with anyone besides me.”
“Right, because I need to be friends with the kind of people whose proposal was a flash mob.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Right, because you’re just too cool for stuff like that.”
It was so fucking like him— making fun of the lame proposals your friends got, or their baby names, or their engagement shoots. Sometimes they were lame— flash mobs were fucking stupid— but sometimes they were sweet, and romantic, and there was Patrick acting like he’d rather blow his brains out than ever publicly admit he cared.
“Yeah, I am.” He said back.
You rolled your eyes and stood. “Whatever, Patrick. I’ll RSVP for one, again, and you can bum around my apartment alone.”
You had slammed the bedroom door before he could respond, which left him alone and seething in the living room.
You heard the front door open, then slam shut, signaling that Patrick was going out for a smoke, or a walk, or something.
You opened Facebook and scrolled through your feed. Katie’s engagement photos, a coworker’s new baby, a college friend’s bachelorette weekend. And there you were, fighting so your boyfriend would finally be your plus one to something.
It wasn’t always his fault— he had tournaments, and commitments. But a lot of the time, it was an active dismissal of things you found important— engagement parties, friends visiting the city, the increasingly common baby shower.
You didn’t blame him. Adult stuff sucked, and it was almost always boring and agonizingly slow. But you just wanted him to show up with you for things that were big.
It would be stupid to break up over Katie, who you genuinely weren’t even that close to. She’d been a decent friend Freshman year, you supposed, but that was the extent of it. The invitation to the wedding was probably a formality.
All you wanted was an excuse to show off your super hot, super cool boyfriend. To get tipsy over free booze, then leave the wedding early to fuck in the shitty Best Western hotel room that wedding guests would get a discount rate on.
A few hours later, the front door opened, and you sat up against the headboard, waiting eagerly to see if he’d be the first to break, or if you would.
You heard four gentle knocks against the door, saw Patrick’s sneakers beneath the door. “You can come in,” you said softly.
Patrick slipped into the room and joined you on the bed. He kept space between you, just in case you were still mad, but met your gaze with the sad eyes of a kicked puppy.
“I bought a suit,” was all he said. “And I tried to buy you a huge bouquet of flowers since I was a dickhead, but my card declined since I just bought the suit, so…”
His hand was resting on the empty expanse of mismatched bedsheets between you. You moved your hand into his, tangling your fingers together. “You bought a suit, huh?”
He nodded, squeezing your hand lightly. “I’ll stop being a dick about Katie’s wedding.” He paused, turning away from your gaze. “I think… I’m away so much that when I’m home, I just want it to be me and you.”
You leaned forward and kissed his nose. “I just want to show you off to everyone I know,” you said lightly. Your forehead stayed pressed to his, and you relished in the closeness. “I don’t give a fuck about Katie or her ugly loser fiancé’s stupid wedding.”
Patrick grinned. “Oh? So you just want a hot, professional athlete to be your arm candy, huh?”
You rolled your eyes. “You’re always cheapening the moment.” You leaned forward kissing him sweetly, which always seemed to devolve into a hungry mess of tongues and spit when Patrick was involved.
“Wait—“ you said suddenly, right as Patrick began peeling off your top. “You said your fucking card declined? You drained your bank account for this stupid wedding?”
He paused, his hands warm on your bare skin. “Uh… it felt like a grand gesture kind of moment.” You leaned in and kissed him, pulling your shirt off the rest of the way.
Not smutty but I neeeeeeeded to write some domestic Patrick x reader 😁🫶 my pookies my babies my loves
#changeover au#patrick zweig fanfic#patrick zweig x reader#patrick zweig#my writing#challengers fanfic#challengers x reader
158 notes
·
View notes
Note
#3, a little angst that ends with fluff, for Mat Barzal
Prompt: “I wish you were here with me.”
Note: I don’t know if my brain will ever fully get used to spelling his name with one ‘t’…but like that’s such a mat barzal thing idk why that’s so him in my opinion 😂
“Yeah it was a pretty fun day, I’m exhausted though. I don’t think I’ll be able to get out of bed in the morning.”
Mat finally finished telling you all about the fun he had at the skills competition. The guest celebrities he got to meet, the freebies that brands were gifting out to the players. Though you knew he wasn’t bragging, it still hurt your feelings hearing how much fun he was having.
You were supposed to go with him for the All Star Game, but something came up with work and you were forced to stay home. He knew how much you were looking forward to going, and of course you were proud of him for getting picked, you missed not being able to celebrate moments like this along with him.
“Yeah, sounds like you had quite a fun day babe.”
Mat could hear the bit of disappointment lacing your words as you sighed into the phone. He felt bad for bragging, but he was just so excited to tell you about his day that he’d neglected to sympathize with how you were still upset.
“I wish you were here with me.”
His words coming out a bit like an afterthought as he tried to cheer you up, only to make you more frustrated.
“I’m sure you do, though it sounds like you had a great day without me. Meeting celebrities, getting tons of freebies from brands, hanging out with the guys. Definitely sounds like you were missing me Mat. But don’t worry because I’m sure we will make plans for me to come with you to the awards in Vegas, or overseas for some upcoming tournament, or god knows what else. But, per usual something will come up and I won’t be able to join you and support you.”
Mat remained silent on his end of the phone call, letting you vent and say whatever you needed to. These frustrations being something you’d had for awhile. Your job unfortunately not always being one to let you miss work, especially when you had important deadlines or projects that needed done.
“Well, I meant what I said…but I’m sorry you don’t think so.”
He didn’t mean to say anything snarky back to you, but it just slipped out. He was frustrated that you felt like he didn’t want you there to experience these things with him.
“Mat, I didn’t say that. I just, I want to support you. To be there to experience all these achievements and special moments. But it’s like I can never catch a break with work. And I feel like I’m not being the best girlfriend I can be if I can’t even have a weekend to fly out and see you in an all star game like every other girlfriend or wife can.”
One thing Mat was never okay with was you comparing yourself to other girlfriends or wives. Was he upset that you felt he was insincere wishing you were there, sure. But he knew you were just frustrated. He would be too if he was in your shoes. But to hear you call yourself a bad girlfriend or not supportive enough, that hurt him.
“Baby, you are the most supportive person in my life. Who gives a fuck what other girlfriends and wives do. You’re my girlfriend, and you do more than enough to support me. You refuse to stop working because you don’t want to be someone who lives off their boyfriend, and I admire the fuck out of that. Half the girls dating guys in this league aren’t like you. And that’s why I love you so much. I’m sorry for being snarky, I just, I hate that you feel like you need to be like the others. Because you’re perfect for me, just the way you are.”
Smiling into the phone, you calmed down a bit as you needed that reassurance from Mat. He always reminded you that you were different, in the best way. And that’s why he loved you so much.
“Now, enough about my day, tell me about this work project and how fucking amazing my boss ass girlfriend did.”
#mat barzal fluff#mat barzal blurb#mat barzal x reader#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal fic#mat barzal#nhl fics#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#hockey fic#hockey imagine#nhl blurb
125 notes
·
View notes
Note
AITA for breaking up with a man to immediately date a woman?👩❤️👩
So a couple of years ago I (at the time 25F) identified as bisexual and ace. I had dated before, but it was all long distance relationships, and all men. At this point, I was single, and while in university, I met a guy (Jake, 26M) and he confessed he was into me. I only really thought of Jake as a friend, but I agreed we could date- because I've always confused platonic/romantic feelings, and foolishly thought I could probably "grow into" the relationship, like my previous ones. Jake is smart, friendly, very sweet and supportive, thoughtful, I didn't see why we couldn't date! But of course, as relationships do, suddenly he becomes more physical, more affectionate with me- which duh, we're dating, I should've expected this- but it blindsided me.
I would very frequently communicate to him what I was comfortable/uncomfortable with, and he'd be okay backing off and taking things more slowly, but would occasionally gently push my boundaries. I'd have to remind him that I wasn't comfortable, and he'd back off and would tell me it's okay- but I don't think he meant it. I think he was hoping I would "get over" these uncomfortable feelings and give him what he wants, eventually. It got to a point I was uncomfortable even being alone with him, because I knew he'd start acting this way. I was deeply appreciative of his patience, since I know I was being weird about our relationship.
While this is happening, I was venting to my dear friend Mary (25F) about how I felt terrible, how I felt stuck, and Mary would support me, hear me out, and comfort me. I had also met Mary in university, and Jake and Mary knew each other and were also friends. We were all a part of the same friend group- but I only would talk to Mary about what was going on between me and Jake.
A few months of this passes, and it occurs to me that I had a crush on Mary. A real, actual, true crush. One I'd never felt before in any of my other relationships- I had a connection with her, she and I understood each other. One night, we jokingly both kind of confessed to each other at the same time. It was then that it all clicked for me- I'm not bi… I'm a lesbian. It's why I've felt that I've had to "grow into" my previous relationships with men. I never truly was attracted to them, and just thought that was how all relationships were. Mary was the first person I actually felt like I could be myself.
Anyway- Mary knew about Jake obviously, and I told her up front that I'd need time to break up with him. She understood completely. I broke up with him the next day or so in person, quietly, in private. I didn't tell him about Mary, nor about me realizing that I'm a lesbian. I just said that I didn't think we could work out- that he wants more than I could give, and that I wasn't good for him, he deserved someone better. He understood, but he was very upset. And angry. He threatened me with a "If you date anybody in our group- we won't be friends anymore." and stormed off. I cried, but figured I deserved it. He truly cared about me, and I feel like I lied to him through our whole relationship- even if I didn't realize it.
Mary and I dated in secret shortly after, to prevent Jake from finding out and hating the both of us and causing turmoil in our group. He went around and told all of our male friends to leave me alone and not to touch me, so I'm pretty sure he never suspected Mary. I only found out about this because one of said other male friends approached me and told me what Jake had said- Jake never made this apparent to me.
But me and Mary? I've never been happier. We cuddle, we kiss- we do everything you'd expect in a relationship, and I'm never uncomfortable. And when I AM uncomfortable, Mary leaves it alone. She never pushes my boundaries unless I try something on my own terms or we talk about it first. She's a dream come true, and she's beautiful and I love her.
Cut to years later- me and Mary have been together for 10 years now. We've both graduated university, we live together, and we're soon to be married. We're still very close with our friend group- we regularly meet up for movie nights, dinner outings and dnd sessions. Jake's still one of our best friends, and he knows that we're dating, now. I've never addressed me and Mary to Jake directly, so I've never known how he's felt about us.
This is years after the fact, of course, and Jake is still a wonderful friend and (seemingly) has moved on/doesn't care about me and Mary. But I'm occasionally haunted by this mess that I caused, and I feel like I was terrible to Jake. So, Tumblr, I leave you all to judge me. Was I the asshole?
99 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Little Things (Felix Ver.)
The small things he does every day that make you feel oh, so special.
Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin
Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin
| Massages |
We all know that Felix gives absolutely killer massages. And he wouldn't hesitate to give you one on the dot if you asked him to. If I'm being completely honest, I think that Felix would give you one if he felt you needed it, too.
If you come home from a long day of work, or if you're stressed or tired, Felix will sit you down and just give you a massage to help you relax all of your tense muscles from the day. Of course, he'd slip in a kiss or two on your back, too. Every here and there, he'd check in to make sure you're doing okay, smile, and then gently kiss your shoulder or back before continuing.
Felix would also ask you about your day while he worked at your knotted muscles. Ask you what had happened to make you tense. He'd listen to every single word, giving his feedback and thoughts. He just wants you to not have any weight on you. Whether it was physical or mental. He's always gonna make sure you're okay.
| HUGS!! |
We all know that Felix is a huggable person. That, and he's a hugger. This man hugs his other members any chance he gets. You are no acception. Any chance he gets, he hugs you. Hell, he even warned you that he was a hugger when you both first started going out, so you knew what you were signing up for.
This man will literally use any excuse to hug you, too. You make him laugh? He's hugging you. You're being cute? He's hugging you. You made a delicious meal? He's hugging you. You're upset about something? He's hugging you. He's upset about something? Take a wild guess as to what I'm gonna say.
Felix is 100% hugging you if you're upset, though. It doesn't matter how serious or unserious it is. The same goes if he's feeling down. And he's not letting go until he's feeling better, or you're feeling better. Once you're okay, he'll loosen his grip, but he still won't let go. Rather, he'll talk things out with you and make sure you're not sad anymore. And then he'll let go, only to start cuddling you on the couch.
| Language Switching |
Felix is multilingual. That's a given. But if his lover was also bilingual or multilingual, I think that language switching would definitely be a thing. Mainly, you both would be switching between Korean and English. One little bit of the conversation would be in Korean, then the next moment, you're speaking in English.
I definitely think that there would be times where you both would be in public and wouldn't want anyone to really understand what you guys were talking about, and so you'd switch languages depending on where you were. Just so then you could both stay where you were, but not have to worry about anyone eavesdropping.
It's also a great way for you both to stay sharp in the languages you both know. You don't really have to worry about losing any accents you might have, but it also helps you both remember things in each language or remind the other what something means. And if you both can't remember the word for something, then you both have fun trying to remember together.
| Bakes with You |
Y'all, I can't express the amount that I want to bake with Felix. And it's exactly why I think that Felix would want to bake with you. He'd show you how to make his brownies and cookies, and you'd both have a lot of fun doing it, too. Because let's be real here, neither of you would take it seriously in the slightest. You'd try, but you know that it won't last for long.
Flour will be blown towards each other, batter will be booped on noses, messes will be made. You'd both laugh hysterically with each other, though. It'd be a good time. Hell, you'd both have fun cleaning up the mess you made, too.
I also believe that you and Felix would take a ton of pictures while baking with each other. Some of these pictures would be posted on bubble, but only the ones that were of Felix. If he wanted to post one of you in the picture as well, he'd ask permission first. Because you being comfortable is always number one to him.
| Lets You Style His Hair |
Since Felix is currently growing his hair out, I feel like it gets annoying sometimes. And so, he goes to you to help him put it up. You know what you're doing, anyway. And having his hair done is relaxing to him, especially when you spend the first few minutes just running your hands through it and gently massaging his scalp.
I think Felix would sometimes ask you to teach him how to do certain things with his long hair, too. Like how to do different braids. He might struggle with tired arms halfway through, though. And so he'll end up just having you take over. He'll still pay attention to what you're doing. He's just not used to holding his arms up at that certain angle for how long.
Even if he did eventually learn and was capable of doing it himself, he'd still prefer for you to do it. There's just something in the way you do his hair in such a caring way. It's so sweet and gentle, and it's also such a nice bonding time, too. Felix can just rant about whatever's on his mind and you'll happily listen. It's definitely one of his favorite things to do with you.
Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️
#skz#stray kids#stray kids imagine#skz imagines#felix#lee felix#skz felix#stray kids felix#felix skz#felix stray kids#lee yongbok#yongbok#skz lee yongbok#skz lee felix#stray kids lee yongbok#stray kids lee felix#felix lee#lee yongbok x reader#lee yongbok imagines#lee yongbok scenarios#lee yongbok fluff#lee yongbok stray kids#yongbok fluff#yongbok x reader#felix lee x reader#lix skz#skz scenarios#skz stay
91 notes
·
View notes
Note
Can you make like a fluff one shot with either Johnnie Guilbert or Sam Golbach x Fem reader? Like where the reader is like having a panic attack or like just stressed out of all the work the reader is doing and the hate as well (because she’s like famous of something, I dont know what so you can pick)and one of them is helping the reader be comfortable and telling her not to worry? I have no clue if that made sense but if you do make it Thanks!
Together so Well | Johnnie Guilbert
Warnings: some swearing, talk of bad day, crying, slight panic attack, one time mention of wine, mostly fluff
Enjoy!
══════════════════
Your drive home today was different.
You were silent, drove the speed limit, and your music was off.
Life has been, not easy, lately. The trolls of the internet world have come your way for whatever reason, and they’re picking apart every little thing you do.
You sat out in the driveway, staring at the house you share with Johnnie.
You were also an influencer, just like him. So, he understood how you were feeling, but hated talking about it. You didn’t even want to acknowledge them.
You let out a sigh as you get out of the car, locking it as you walk up towards the house. You walk in, looking around for Johnnie, but you don’t seem him anywhere, “Baby? I’m home.”
A few minutes later, he comes walking out, “Sorry I was finishing up a stream.” He walks over to you, arms wrapping around your neck, “How’d the shoot go?”
You shrug, “As good as it can get.”
Johnnie looks down, “I’m sensing that there’s something wrong here.” He tilts his head, hands moving to lay on your shoulders as you nod, “You would be sensing correctly.”
Within a split second, you were crying. Tears soaking your face as you clung to Johnnie while gasping for air.
His arms go around you, holding you to him as he rests his cheek against the top of your head, “Hey, baby hey.”
He shushes you calmly, rubbing his hand up and down your back, “What’s going on?” He asks, resting his hand on your hip, “Y/n. Sweetheart, talk to me.”
“Stupid fuckin’ internet trolls.” You mumble, sniffles cutting in between your words, “..having n-nothing be-tter to do. They’ve just been picking and trying to ri-rip apart everything I fucking do.” You continue, letting out a groan, “Like I didn’t even want to do this shoot today, because what’s the fucking point if they’re only going to get ravaged by the vultures?”
You start to sniffle, tears spilling out once again, “Fuck.” You slap your hands over your face, falling into Johnnie’s chest again, “I hate this. I hate it.”
“Whoa. Okay.” Johnnie gives your body a squeeze, “take a breathe, first off.” He presses a couple gentle kissses to your forehead, “I know damn well you kicked that shoot’s ass. You look so beautiful, even before you left for it.”
You give him a small smile and he tilts your chin up, “I’m really exited to see the pictures when she sends some through tonight.”
You just nod back, glancing down, but Johnnie’s hand lifts your chin, “Look at me.”
You look up at him, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, okay.” He swipes away tears with his thumbs, “The people that pick apart what you do and how you do it, or what you don’t do.. need to have their lives picked through once, guarantee you won’t hear from them again.”
No matter how shitty of a day you had, Johnnie always pulls you back together, and for a little while he put you back together so well, you forgot about your issues almost completely, and that’s why you loved him.
You smile slightly, “Thank you, J.”
He pulls you in, gently pressing his lips to your, “Now go sit, pick a movie. I’ll get you some wine, okay?”
You nod and look up at him, “Might as well bring the whole bottle.” You purse your lips as he leans in, “I love you.”
“Already planned on it.” He kisses you again and you smile, “I love you.”
“Alright, now go. We can finish talking about it then if you want.” Johnnie nods and you smile, “I always want you telling me how pretty I am.”
══════════════════
Thanks for reading! 🖤 I love you always!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
#samandcolby-ownme#snippets#snippet#Johnnie Guilbert#Johnnie Guilbert fluff#fluff#fluff blurb#Johnnie Guilbert blurb#blurb#johnnie guilbert one shots#Johnnie Guilbert x reader#johnnie guilbert x reader fluff#johnnie guilbert x y/n#johnnie guilbert one shot#Johnnie Guilbert one shot fluff#fluff Johnnie Guilbert
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
With all my love, pt 4
Since I’ve gotten home, I’ve been unable to relax. Bakugou’s text messages have forced me in a trace since I sat down to read them on the train. I’ve read and reread each one, analyzing every word and punctuation detail.
Katsuki’s drunk voicemails are even harder to process; his slurred speech is filled with hiccups and desperate pleas for me to come back. These are messages he would never send when sober, making them all the more gut-wrenching.
I fall onto the hotel’s bed and curl up next to the Uravity plushie I keep there for comfort. Ochaco was never a fan of my relationship with Bakugou, but she was always the best at giving advice. If she were here now, she’d probably offer to float him up into space until he exploded.
I take a deep breath and hit play on the first voicemail he left. Katsuki's voice floods the room, and even in his vulnerable moments, there's a magnetism to him that I can't resist. Each drunken word reveals a side of him that he keeps tightly locked away when he's sober. It's these rare, unguarded moments that leave me crying, aching to heal his broken heart.
His voice cracks, and I can hear the pain and confusion in every syllable. I clutch the Uravity plushie tighter, tears welling up as I listen. The raw emotion, the unfiltered regret, makes the distance between us feel insurmountable.
Saturday, June 1st, 10:52pm
"Hey... it's me. Damn it, I know you hate me now, but I can’t do this without you. I know I don’t deserve you; you’re so smart and the only person who challenges me. I've been thinking 'bout you all night. I miss you so much it hurts. I miss your touch, the way you laugh... everything 'bout you. It's killin' me not havin' you here."
His voice slurs, thick with alcohol, and I can hear a few thumps and groans as he fumbles with the phone.
"I... I screwed up, I know that. But... please, just gimme another chance. I need you. I don't know what to do without you. Our bed feels empty. Please, just... come back to me. I... I love you."
A few similar voicemails are left on my phone for that night, each one repeating his drunken rambles, filled with regret and longing. Each message blurs into the next, a cascade of sorrow and hopelessness.
Monday, June 3rd, 2:39am
"Hey... it's me. Look, I know you’re probably just busy, right? You wouldn’t just leave like that. This is just a misunderstanding or something. Call me back when you get this, okay? We need to talk. I... I need to hear from you. I can’t believe you’re really gone. Just... just call me.”
There's a long pause, filled with the sound of his shaky breathing, before the voicemail clicks off.
The silence that follows feels like a weight pressing down on my chest. I close my eyes, trying to steady my own breath, then tap on the next voicemail he left, only an hour later that evening.
Monday, June 3rd, 4:32am
"Hey, it's me again. Why aren't you answering? I... I keep checking my phone, waiting for your name to pop up. This can't be real. You can't just be gone. Please, I need to hear your voice. We can work this out, can't we? I know I screw up, but we always find a way, right?"
The sound of him stumbling, maybe knocking something over, echoes through the phone. His frustration is clear, and it cuts deep.
"I miss you so much. This stupid house doesn’t even smell like you anymore. You always knew how to make everything better. Please, just call me. We need to talk. I can't do this without you. I love you."
Wednesday, June 5th, 3:47am
"Hey! What the hell is wrong with you? You think you can just walk away from everything we had? I’m pissed! I miss you, damn it! I can’t stand this! How could you just leave me like that? You think this is easy for me? It’s not! Get your ass back here and fix this!"
He takes a harsh, shaky breath, the anger clear in his voice. Kats moves the phone away from his face, clearly yelling at some random person before shoving the phone next to his ear again.
"You think you can just walk away like it’s nothing? Well, it’s not nothing to me! I can’t do this without you. Every day feels like hell. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep. Everywhere I go, I see you, I hear you. It’s like a ghost haunting me, reminding me of everything we had and everything I lost. Do you even care what this is doing to me?"
His voice cracks, the raw emotion breaking through his anger.
"You were my everything. We had plans, dreams... You can’t just throw all that away. I know I screwed up, but I can fix this. Please, I need you. I need you to come back and tell me it’s going to be okay. I can’t do this alone. So get your ass back here, now! Before it's too late... before we lose everything we’ve built together."
He pauses, and the silence is filled with his labored breathing, each inhale shaky and uneven.
"Please," he whispers, the anger gone, replaced by a mixture of loss and desperation. "Please, just come back."
The voicemail ends abruptly with a sharp click. I press the next one. As soon as I hear his voice, I sit up straight, knocking a pillow off my bed in the rush. This one was different. It’s the day before Eijiro called me, begging me to have lunch with him and refusing to take no for an answer.
Monday, June 8th, 10pm
"Hey... it’s me. I... I don’t even know why I’m calling. You’re not gonna pick up, are you? I just... I miss you. I miss everything about you. It’s so damn hard without you here. I don’t know what to do anymore. Everything feels empty."
Katsuki pauses for a moment, and a muffled cry is given before he brings the phone back up to his face, his breathing hard.
"I... I just wanted to say that I get it. I understand why you left. It doesn’t make it hurt any less, but... I get it. No one has ever put up with me for as long as you have. I’ve never had someone defend me like you did. Take care of yourself, alright? I love you, always."
Fear spreads across my body, engulfing me into a paralyzing state. My mind races, trying to make sense of it all. Katsuki Bakugou has never, and I mean never, accepted defeat. Bakugou is a fighter; he’s an asshole. Katsuki Bakugou once made me play 12 rounds of Mario Cart because I kept beating him. So why did his voice sound so defeated? What did Eijiro see that I haven’t been able to?
I stand up, pacing back and forth, my thoughts spiraling. Should I call him? Would he even want to speak with me? Isn’t this what I wanted? I wished for his pain, but seeing it unfold feels like a gunshot rather than enjoyment.
My heart pounds as I replay his last voicemail, each word contrasting the Katsuki I thought I knew. His usual fiery spirit, the bravado, the unyielding strength—it was all stripped away, leaving behind a raw, aching vulnerability that I didn’t know he possessed. The thought of him being so broken sends a dagger through my heart.
I stop pacing and sit on the edge of my bed, my hands trembling. This isn’t how it was supposed to be. I wanted him to understand my pain, to feel a fraction of what I felt when he pushed me away, but this... this is too much. The idea of him being in such a dark place, feeling so lost and defeated, twists my stomach in knots.
What if he doesn’t answer? What if he does and I don’t know what to say? I reach for my phone, my fingers hovering over his contact. The weight of the decision feels crushing. I wanted him to hurt, but not like this. Not to the point where I’m afraid for him.
Taking a deep breath, I press the call button, my heart pounding in my chest as I wait for the call to connect. The ringing seems to go on forever, each second dragging out the torment.
"Hello?" A woman's voice, light and giggling, cuts through the receiver. In the background, there's a commotion—a struggle, I can only assume is my asshole ex-boyfriend trying to wrestle his phone back from her.
"Is Bakugou there?" I question, trying to keep my voice steady despite the irritation bubbling up inside me. I can hear a party going on in the background.
"He's a bit busy right now," she replies, a teasing hint to her tone. "I'll have him call you back once he's free."
Before I can say anything more, there's a final click and the call abruptly ends.
#my hero academy fanfiction#my hero academia#my hero acedamia#mha x reader#mha bakugou#mha#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugou#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#fanfic
78 notes
·
View notes
Note
i would love to know which of the crazy ass boys gang would indulge a partner who watches reality tv? whose getting just as invested and angry and who is standing to the side saying it’s dumb and fake? (i know it’s kevin)
❥ who grins and bares it so they can bond with you ❥
Billy Loomis - This is just a bonding activity for Billy. It’s not awful. Nor is it the most fun thing in the world. It’s just one of those tiny moments that relationships are built off. The small bids for connection that build intimacy. You don’t bitch when he wants to watch Psycho for the sixth time in two months. He doesn’t bitch when you turn on trashy TV. He pulls you close, so that you’re sitting in his lap, or laid up against him, and pays enough attention to ask you the odd question or two to clarify what’s going on if he gets lost. What do you mean they switch couples?? When did they start doing that? Last week… oh I bet Luca was pissed.
David Mccall - David is obnoxious because he pretends to be the type who is upset when you watch without him. He’ll come home, glance at the TV and gasp dramatically: Baby! Why are you watching our show without me?! How far along are you? You watched an entire episode? You know better than that, baby! You gotta rewind it, hold on, I’ll order us some pizza. Can’t believe you’d watch behind my back! This is a ridiculous pantomime that you may or may not pick up on. Mileage varies as always. David couldn’t care less about the reality TV shows you watch. But he likes the way you giggle as you rewind it for him. Or the way you light up when you’re discussing it with him. You used to spend way too much time talking with your friends about this stupid crap. Now you talk to him. Who gives a shit about whatever mindless little thing you’re watching. What David enjoys is your undivided attention.
Jason Dean/JD - JD also sees this as a bonding activity and bid for connection… However, JD is a born hater. He bonds by talking shit. He’s not necessarily trying to be a bummer about the things you enjoy. He’s just a certified yapper when it comes to shit-talking. If he thinks something is stupid he just can’t sit in silence. This is his most underdeveloped life skill. He’s got ten minutes of quiet in him max. If he does manage to bite his tongue his face gives him away anyways. So what was the point? Will say something pretentious like: “Why are we watching people play out a badly scripted version of their lives through a screen when we could be out living ours, right now? Let’s hop on my bike and just ride, darling! Live a little!” Sir, I just worked an eight hour shift. I need to see someone who doesn’t deserve a rose get sent home in tears. Read the room. Get a grip.
❥ who is pissed off/devastated when you watch it without them ❥
Sebastian Valmont - What can he say? Sebastian likes to watch people experience psychological torment. He’s trying to turn on the first seasons of “America’s Next Top Model" and watch a girl get sent home in tears after the judges convinced her to shave her head bald to look more fierce.This is the type of quality reality TV that makes Sebastian laugh. Watching people go through their darkest moments in front of a camera that highlights the creases in their cheap makeup is how he likes to spend the occasional date night. You had to put him onto reality tv shows, but now he’s hooked. He probably watches more reality TV than you do. If we’re being honest. You think this might be how he gets to still live out his glory days of being an unrepentant asshole. Sometimes he sighs a little too wistfully when someone is being a monster.
Jordan Li - Jordan enjoys anything you do together. Even if they hate a particular activity, at least they’re spending time with you. Still, there are reality TV shows that Jordan really likes, such as: home improvement shows, “Say Yes to the Dress'', “Face Off”, “American Ninja Warrior”, and “RuPaul's Drag Race”. And then there are shows that Jordan puts on a brave face about. Things like “Love Island” and “Jersey Shore”. Jordan gets queasy just scrolling past them. There was a time before they became one of Brink’s favorites that their parents kept pushing them to try and be an entertainment Supe. No one is taking you that seriously, anyways! Maybe you’ll do better in the reality TV circuit. It’s unlikely Jordan will ever get stuck in projects like that now. They’ve proven they can be a heavy hitter. Proven that they’re strong enough to not need to sell themselves as cheap, easily-digestible, entertainment. Still, they don’t like thinking of the alternate world where they’re having to sit in front of a camera and do twenty retakes of “authentic” confessional room venting.
Stu Macher - He likes reality TV and doesn’t care who knows. Hooray! A shared interest… except watching these shows with him will piss you the fuck off. He has dog-shit opinions about everything. You will never be rooting for the same people. You will never agree on who handled a situation better. He’s always rooting for the asshole, it seems. You don’t even think he’s doing it to be contrary or to make you mad. He’s genuinely on their side (most of the time… he does enjoy making you mad.) Watching reality TV with Stu makes you want to kill him. It also makes you look at him funny. Why are you always siding with the bastards? You don’t think Ekin-Su needed to apologize? Stu, are you out of your fucking mind?
Josh Washington - You’re gonna try to tell me that the twins weren’t making him paint toenails while they pulled all nighters of “The Bachelor”? Sure, okay, if you’d like to believe that. And his inner circle consists of Emily and Jess? Please. He’s been watching trashy TV for years. He’s watched a little of everything. He is so well acquainted with the dark underbelly of reality TV that it would roll over for a tummy rub from him. It knows his scent. He can easily keep track of the names, faces, and plots. Who’s fucking who. Who hates who. Who’s forming secret alliances. You’ll probably be more lost than Josh ever gets. He’s a day one. He’s an OG.
❥ who is pissed off to even be hearing about it second-hand ❥
Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - He has better shit to do than watch reality TV show crap all day, and so do you. These are the kinds of harsh words that will be waiting for you if you try and get him to watch anything fun with you. Ask him one too many times and, like a parent who is annoyed that you are bothering him, he will begin to fill up any moment of free time the two of you have with activities. No, babe, we can’t watch “90 Day Fiance.” Why? Because we’ve got to run the marathon for kids with cancer and then we’ve got dinner with the mayor after that. You two are gonna be booked and busy. You were obviously bored. Now you won’t have time to even think!
Kevin Khatchadourian - Please don’t remind him so blatantly of his own intellectual superiority over you (he’s an asshole.) He gets the ick of the century when you try and tell him what happened during one of your little…programs. If you have the audacity to take it a step further and ask him to watch with you? He’s rendered speechless. Since when is this relationship a safe space? He doesn’t enjoy well-written, heart-stopping, incredible genre-defining movies and television. And yet, somehow, you’re so delusional you think he’s gonna sit through reality television with you? Don’t piss him off. He doesn’t even bother responding. Enjoy the view of his back as he walks away!
❥ secret fourth worse thing ❥
Nathan Prescott - Nathan is once again in a category of his own, which you might call: too nosy to not get into it, but doesn't want you to know he enjoys it. He made fun of you when you first started to watch reality TV. He can’t go back on his word now. If you were cuddling on the couch he’d have his face turned into your stomach and dramatically roll his eyes at your absentminded head rubbing. Could we focus on what’s important please? But then the plots started thickening and the heated exchanges started to pique his interest. He knew he was cooked when he started recognizing names, who was booed up with who… wait that disloyal prick hooked up with who this week?! He tells you to just replay the episode because you’re explaining it shitty and you obviously want him to watch it and talk to you about it. It isn’t for his benefit at all. Turn the subtitles on, god dammit.
A/N: this was really fun! how did you know i've been watching reality TV shows lately?? if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writers fuel is engagement. xoxoxo
#crazy ass boys gang#black!reader#black reader#billy loomis x reader#jordan li x reader#josh washington imagines#nathan prescott x reader#jd x reader#jason dean x reader#stu macher x reader#sebastian valmont x reader#ben hargreeves x reader#kevin khatchadourian x reader#david mccall x reader#ben wants to tire you out like a mom who puts their kid in karate and soccer and gymnastics five days a week#this one made me laugh while writing it
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pink Pony Club (Richie Jerimovich one-shot)
♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan "I'm up, and jaws are on the floor. Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door. Blacklights, and a mirrored disco ball Every night's another reason why I left it all"
♡ Summary: You're an Exotic Dancer / part time house mom at The Pink Pony, and end up falling for a man that is probably old enough to be your father.
♡ W/C: 2.9k
♡ Poste Date: 06/10/2024
♡ A/N: Hello all! again, for the asks that are atp starting to mold in my inbox - imma get to you. This specific dirty old man in a suit has been making me feel things lately, so naturally I had to write some porn about it. Asks are still open even though I cant promise it'll be done snappy. Hope everyones week is off to a great start so far!! Tagged those who commented on the post saying this would be a good idea just so you could see how it came out, hope you like :)
♡ Warnings for BTC: Age gap relationships (R is in her mid-to-late 20's, mentions of sex work, Club environments, swearing, smut, rough sex (Richie likes to be slapped around sometimes, kay?) lowkey simp!Richie, no use of Y/N - pet names only, readers stage name is Pixie Polestar , unprotected sex, not edited, we die like men!
♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡
➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡
➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡
➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡
➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡
You had met Richie just about 2 months ago. It was safe to say, life had chewed him up and spit him out lately.
If he was being honest with himself, the dating pool wasn’t exactly rich at 46 years old. He could count on almost two hands how long it had been since he got his dick up for more than just the binightly pornhub browser.
That led him into the Pink Pony Club one fateful August night. You were working your usual shift, Pixie Polestar. You - unlike some of the other girls - really enjoyed your job. At least, the aspect of having fun on stage, doing cute, sexy little acrobat-like tricks on the pole while horny men paid you to take more of your clothes off?
Yes please.
You weren’t a back room kind of girl, usually. That was because the amount of money you made from tricks on the pole was more than a lot of the girls you worked with made in a whole shift while you just worked the 45 minute trick-filled stage set then would give a few $400 lap dances depending on your mood, before skipping on home, taking a hot shower, and slipping in your silk sheets with your air conditioner turning your bedroom something akin to an ice box.
That was how that night was supposed to go.
How the night really went, was some loud borderline obnoxious man at least 15 years your senior, had found his way into the Pink Pony. He was wearing a pressed navy blue suit, that complimented his pretty blue eyes. That was the second thing you noticed about him while he loudly whistled for Krystal who was currently doing her set.
You weren’t really supposed to be here anymore - well- you didn’t have to be here. You had found yourself a solution, a real career path if you will. But you enjoyed your time on the pole because it was art, and dancing was a confidence booster for you. In any regard, you were going to get older, you were going to pass your prime as the house mom was always telling you girls, so you needed another stream of income.
Of course, being a … *eh-hem* - exotic dancer was the word you preferred, stripper just sounded trashy to you, did come with its negative stereotypes, one of which being no where will rent to you - because you had terrible credit. So, naturally, being the resourceful woman you are - you walked your happy ass to the open house of a for sale by owner showing, and told the nice realtor you’d take it.
Boom. Done, you had a place to live in 3 weeks, when you closed on it. Then, it dawned on you. The other girls you worked with had the same issue you did. So, you found another house, saved another 25k for the amount to put down, and rented it to your coworkers.
It was the perfect system, because you knew you’d get your rent. You knew exactly how much money each girl made because you watched them make it, you knew where they lived, and they had to look you in the eye every night. So it’s easy to say no one ever tried you. The only real reason you hung around The Pink Pony anymore was because you wanted to keep an eye on your girls and dancing was fun too.
When he first laid eyes on you, it was something akin to a cartoon character when their pupils turn into hearts. It wasn’t too abnormal, you were one of the more bombshell-esc dancers at the club, and that isn’t to say that you outdid anyone it was all based on preference. Some men loved plain Jane’s, and the plain Jane’s were just as beautiful as any of the other girls, but the reaction of men basically tripping over their feet to try and come talk to you was more likely going to happen to you then anyone else.
But he…didn’t come over, that was interesting to you. So, you being the master of customer service you were, took your drink and kept your eyes locked on his as you made your way across the room, and plopped right in his lap. “Never seen you here before sweetheart” your manicured hand found the back of his neck, gently caressing over his skin.
He tried to play it cool, but your tits we’re basically in his face, he could smell your perfume perfectly, fuck he genuinely can’t believe that a girl so beautiful just sauntered over and sat in his fucking lap. Was he dreaming? He found his mind racing, and for once in his 46 years he was dumbfounded and couldn’t find anything to say.
“Cat got your tongue honey?” You smirked a bit, gently cupping his stubbly cheek and rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it gently before letting it snap back into place. He swallowed thickly, his hand resting on your bare thigh, just below the white glittery mesh coverup you were wearing.
“I’m Richie.” He blurted out, his cheeks felt like they were on fucking fire, any blood that wasn’t rushing there was rushing to his cock and he found himself wondering when the last time he’d gotten hard so easy was.
“Well hello Richie. I’m Pixie, what brings a handsome man like you in on a Friday night mm, no big plans?” You absentmindedly played with his chain, pretending to pay no mind to the long length that was hardening in the curve of your ass. All you would have to do is shuffle just a tiny bit and his cock would be nestled between your cheeks and the itty bitty powder pink g string that you wore beneath the tiny mesh piece of fabric that was basically for show and no use to cover anything.
“I guess I was lookin’ f’some entertainment. Think I found it” he spread his legs more, causing you to sink further into his lap and his hand found the curve of your waist, his thumb rubbing little up and down strokes over the smooth skin. He never believed that the sheer triple x rated porn movie he was creating in his mind would become a reality that night but man did it.
It was also his first night taking the dreaded viagra prescription his doctor had given him when he got real about his … shortcomings as of late. The man isn’t what he used to be stamina wise, okay? Nonetheless - he still rocked your shit - well, more like you rocked his.
Who knew this foul mouthed, old school, borderline toxic masculinity-entrenched motherfucker would get so much pleasure from your palm coming across his cheek just hard enough it left a yummy sting and telling him “My eyes are up here you old pervert” as you bounced on his cock with a rhythm he couldn’t bring to the table himself anymore, and that in turn causing your tits to bounce like a fucking hentai film less then a foot from his face.
Something about a younger girl calling him old and smacking him around all while using his cock to get herself off, babbling about how good he makes her feel made him more confident then he had been in years.
He often would find himself feeling a little pang of sadness after you started seeing eachother, in moments where you two were laughing a way he only ever did with Mikey before you came around, and making him feel like he was in fuckin’ High school again with how giddy he was to see you after every shift. All of it would just remind him how bad he wishes you could have met Mikey, and how bad he wishes he could tell Mikey.
Richie knows, he would be so jealous, but in a brotherly way - that such a young hot piece of ass, a young smart, hot, funny, piece of ass was calling him daddy, told him he was ‘her mans’ whatever the fuck that meant. He assumed girls today call their boyfriends that, there were a lot of little phrases and lingo you had to explain to him and would always make fun of him for being old after doing so.
He would tease you too, having some late 80s early 90’s radio station on (because the old head didn’t understand what streaming was) while he drove you around of course since he had learned from you that you were his ‘passenger princess’ and saying something like ‘oh babygirl this is before your time, this is from my day” before cranking up the radio and serenading you with Bad Girl by Madonna, belting it in such a silly, dramatic way between drags of his cigarette you couldn’t help but burst into giggles and kiss him at the next red.
You had told him that when you used to do private dances that Like a Virgin was one of your favorite to dance to for the ‘older’ gentleman, he spanked you playfully when you said his crowd was older as he usually did, and of course later that night he had you perform for him and you ended up getting your back blown out to material girl since you had been streaming the song from your phone and didn’t care to find it and turn it off.
When Tina had played it jokingly at family dinner one night, he couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips at the memory. Funnily enough, she was the first person to find out about you. Of course, he didn’t divulge anything other than he was finally seeing someone consistently, nothing about your age or profession. Based on the way Tina had reacted with clapping and kissing his cheeks, gushing “I’m so proud of you papa! That’s so good, this is so good for you! You need to get out there more” he was reevaluating his social life or lack there of and telling himself he needed to get out more, which lucky for him you were young and bubbly so you could get him out of the house.
The next person he told, he really told, was Carmy. Well- technically Syd too, but she just happened to overhear.
“W-wait wait” Carmy pinched the bridge of his nose how he did when he was baffled and confused, brows knitting together as he shook his head. “Lemme- lemme just get this straight - y’datin a…..”
“Ex-o-tic dancer, cousin. It’s 2024, fuckin hell. Women dance and get paid for it - no big deal.” He repeated, emphasizing each sound as if what he was explaining was the most casual thing in the world, which - you had explained to him it should be so he took that and ran with it.
“You’re fucking…a stripper- a stripper that’s what they’re called when they dance naked - and how old did you say she was?” Syd questions.
“Hey- she leaves her panties on she’s only naked top up, and plus she doesn’t even have to anymore she does it for the art.” He points the spoon he was wiping down at Carmy “this new NOMA bullshit we’re doin’ here isn’t the only art, Cousin. Shes an artist” he dropped the spoon in the bucket with the rest of the pristine ones he’d worked on.
“Sure- and she’s fuckin younger then me” Carmy replied. “She could be y’fuckin-“
“Yeah, yeah - whatever she could be my fuckin daughter where’s your girlfriend huh? I don’t see anyone linin’ up to fuck you. She’s nice, and into me - and - and she’s funny and smart. So see already 2 qualities named that I don’t see much of around here so excuse fuckin me f’wantin to be happy when I’m not in this shithole” he teased
“So- this not even 30 year old, she is gonna be y’date to the thanksgiving friends and family night - the one your daughter and ex wife are attending - and you think that will be a good idea considering tiff’s track record with girls you bring around” Syd questioned.
“Yup” was all he said before taking the now finished bin of spoons to be put away, glad for the conversation to have finally been over.
He rehashed the whole conversation with you later that night as you slowly rolled your hips into his, your skin sticking to his, both of you covered with a thin layer of sweat. You had his hands pinned next to his head, fingers interlaced with yours, practically speaking into your mouth as you kissed him sloppy and open mouthed, obsessed with eachothers taste. You always tasted of bubblegum, a habit you’d carried with you since childhood, he always tasted of cigarettes, a habit he had carried since high school.
“Baby with my job I’m used to people not understanding me - I didn’t expect your friends to like me. My job - it can make people uncomfortable. But fuck them. You know how we feel huh?” You picked up the speed of your hips, using the curly deep brown patch of hair at the base of his cock to cause the most delicious friction with each thrust on his cock as you chased your orgasm.
“Ye’ fuck em baby- shit- so fuckin tight- all mine right?” He breathed, mouthing over the bruises he’d left on your breasts a few nights ago. That was one thing about your job he had a bit of difficulty getting past, but you assured him you had no feelings for any clients and that you weren’t doing lap dances anymore only your stage set and otherwise you were just there to be more of a second house mom. But still, he was a man after all. He was possessive, a little jealous sometimes. So he loved to hear that you were only his during moments like this.
“Yes daddy- all yours. You own this- you own me” you kissed his hand before bringing it to your breast and then using his shoulders as leverage to bounce further up and down, the action causing his head to fall back and jaw to fall slack.
“Just like that - god- fuck - holy shit baby- shit-shit- y’fuckin close? How fuckin long has it been?” He pinched your nipple lightly, causing your pussy to clench around him and a pornstar like whine to leave your lips
“It’s been 15 minutes- Christ you’re like a teenager. Can’t even last 30 minutes?” You teased, leaning in and kissing his neck, biting and nibbling the skin as you circle your hips, essentially jutting the tip of his cock into your g spot and that floaty feeling sneaking up on you as you feel him shoot rope after rope of arousal, painting your pretty, gummy walls a milky white and his stomach muscles clenching at the overstimulation.
The grunts and moans that left his lips when you got him here were some of the hottest noises you’d ever heard a man make before, you were always sure to file them away in a special little folder in your brain for a rainy day he wasn’t able to get you off himself. “Feel good daddy?” You asked sweetly, sitting up and resting your hands on his hips so you could look down and watch as your mixed arousals gush out of you and around him, thick strings breaking with each slow, purposeful roll of your hips
“So fuckin good baby- Jesus gonna finish soon? Dunno how much more I can do” he said, voice breathy, blissed out, nearly whiny.
“Mmhmm few more minutes daddy- god we’re so pretty, I bet we taste so good mm?” You swipe the pad your forefinger over your clit, gathering the sweet and bitter white, making a show of rubbing it over the hardened bud of your nipple “feels good, too, wanna tell me how it tastes?” You leaned in and he nearly groaned as he took your breast in his mouth, crystal like eyes seeding into your own gaze as he flicked his tongue gratefully around the sensitive nub.
You whined hotly, the sight of your tit in his mouth mixed with the feeling of his pants huffing through his nose and fanning over the swollen flesh as his tongue swirled and licked and flicked and drove you over the edge. You cried out, hips stuttering as you rode out your orgasm. His hand found your heat, rubbing with scissored fingers over your clit and meeting around his cock before dragging his fingers back up to repeat the assault.
The action had you gushing around him, the contractions of your heat getting stronger causing him to groan into your skin and that vibration just added more stimulation. “Fuck yes- god daddy- always make me feel so good, no one understands how good we make eachother feel hm? Nothing else matters, baby, as long as you feel good, right?”
You pulled him in for a sloppy, hot, passionate kiss. A kiss that made his heart do flips, and his stomach flutter, and made him feel way lighter.
Richie thought to himself in that moment he may be falling in love again, and he was equal parts fucking terrified, and excited to see where things with you went.
He just had to get over ripping off the very last bandaid, and then you could really be together -
And that bandaid was Tiff.
@aestheticaltcow - @myszie - @wtfsteveharrington
#CapriCarmy Oneshot#the bear fic#the bear#borders & banners by saradika#the bear 🐻#the bear fandom#Richie The Bear#richie jerimovich x fem reader#richie jerimovich x you#richie jerimovich smut#richie jerimovich#richie jerimovich x reader#Richie Jerimovich x fem!reader#richie jerimovich imagine#Richie Jerimovich blurb#Richie Jerimovich drabble#Richie Jerimovich fanfiction#Richie Jerimovich the bear fanfiction
67 notes
·
View notes
Note
do you have any tips for writing a low empathy character who isn't evil? Or how to make an interesting apathetic character who's a thoughtless sort of evil? These are two different chatacters btw-
I tried looking up examples and stuff but uh. It's been a bit fruitless.
Honestly it's not too hard! Having low empathy just means we're bad at automatically "connecting" to the feelings of other people. You can come to understand it's not even a character flaw once you uncouple the idea that Empathy = Kindness. And apathy, well, that one's a bit more complicated imo.
Low Empathy
In English, it's just unfortunately super common to conflate Empathy and Compassion. To have compassion is to be aware of the suffering of another person, and ergo, want to help stop it. To be empathetic is to identify with and understand the feelings of another person. These are different things.
For an example in action; imagine a medic with a patient whose shoulder is dislocated, and xey'll need to pop that arm back in place in order for the patient to feel better.
A medic feeling EMPATHY for that patient is having an emotional response to what xey're seeing. Xey might have a tingly "ghost pain" thinking about the injury, and xey might feel guilty xey're going to put them in more agony, but also joy because this patient is going to feel much better in just a moment.
A medic feeling COMPASSION for that patient is thinking about how the shoulder must be causing a lot of pain, and knows xey have the skill to fix it. Xey know from xeir own experience that pain sucks and so it is a bad thing that needs to go away. It will hurt a little more for a moment, but then there will be immediate relief.
This is imo, why a lot of low empathy people are "bad at" comforting people without going to Autism College where they give you the scripts of Shit Neurotypicals Say. We're not trying to be selfish when we end up making "comfort sessions" about ourselves-- that's what we think empathy is, because we don't have a lot of it to really know what you want.
Like, doesn't it make sense to you? "I don't know what you're feeling. Here's a similar situation I've been though. I must know what you're feeling-- does that make you feel better? That you aren't alone? I think that's what empathy is, am I right?"
A LOT of low empathy people go into medical fields, the funeral industry, and disaster relief. We often really do want to help people so seek these fields out, or when we get there, just end up not getting burnt out like our high-empathy peers!
Apathy
As for the apathetic character, honestly, I'd suggest thinking about your story's themes. Villains are very special to me and I always try to handle them with care. What are you trying to say is bad to not care about in your work? How does their apathy play into the story you're trying to tell?
A Captain Planet villain is completely selfish, and exists only to benefit itself by exploiting nature in some way. Then the Planeteers show up and punch it in the face. Boiled down to its barest, most simple essentials; "We have conflicting goals and so I will stop you."
Personally I find total apathy to be something not especially compelling in villains, for that reason. Like, if you really don't care about anything, why bother with the trouble of going against the protag? Motivation is meant to be MOTIVATING.
(also ngl I'm on the Shadow As A Hero sort of bandwagon where I find it much funnier for the simple apathetic cool edgy guy to be the funniest person on your tennis team)
Dungeon Meshi has TWO characters who struggle with apathy, and are both antagonists at some points in the story, but never villains. Shuro and Mithrun. The theme of Dungeon Meshi is the beauty and complexity of life, the value of living, and how our connections to others changes the people we are. Food is a metaphor for bonding, self-care, and understanding.
For Shuro, he begins the story as someone who's both been encouraged to bottle up his emotions for the sake of other people, as well as to not actually consider the emotions of those lower-born than him. He's from a very different place than the other members of his party, and this causes friction as class, culture, and sophisticated, refined, weapons-grade autism clashes.
When the woman he loves is eaten by a dragon, he doesn't stop to tell her brother and """childhood friend""" what he's planning, as if they both wouldn't run in and get hurt. He owns demi-humans. He doesn't consider his own needs or the needs of his rescue team of loyal vassals. As a result, he's too weak to continue, losing a fistfight with one of the main characters, Laios.
After this, he connects with him for the very first time, and reaches out to him by giving him an important magic item. There's even a MASSIVE moment where he outright tells Laios that his ability to be so open (read: not have to mask his autism) is something he envies, breaking through that veil of apathy he wears.
The story Dungeon Meshi is telling here is that it is important to value the needs of yourself and of others. Shuro's apathy towards his own needs in a bid to prove his love weakened him. In acting like he was above his old teammates, he never spoke to them like people to smooth out his issues. He's never even noticed how much his vassals love and care for him.
(and the incredible irony is not lost on me, that Shuro's name is because Laios mispronounced it and was never corrected... while Shuro never noticed that Izutsumi had the unwanted name "Asebi" forced onto her when she was "taken in" and made his slave.)
See how that comes back to the theme? Shuro doesn't exist to just "be some asshole" or act like a villain. He has a full character arc that contributes to the narrative.
For Mithrun? I won't even spoil it. Go read Dungeon Meshi. Watch elf depression. We love a king with strabismus.
Anyway,
If you ever need good personal resources on any stigmatized mental condition, I've found it's usually productive to go into the #Actually (Thing) tag here on Tumblr. You can find people posting about basically anything. I found a lot of really good resources on NPD that way.
104 notes
·
View notes
Text
A revision of Claire’s “pushing” and who really benefits from it
A list of red flags I have been thinking about.
gif by @felixcarlucci
I was reading this post and reflecting on why it felt, like
@brokenwinebox mentioned, that Carmy was always in the passenger seat in the relationship with Claire (physically and metaphorically); their post is amazing, by the way, talking about this concept of "pushing" and how it should be a mutual thing.
I want to go back to the party and the context of Carmy and Claire's past. All of it is enhanced by that interview with Molly we have been discussing.
My biggest question here is:
Why? Why the hell Claire "could tell" that Carmy wanted a relationship with her? They hadn't spoken in more than a decade, for real, wtf kind of signal did she see that he wanted to be with her? Does she think he has been in love with her all this time? Did she get that idea when she supposedly met Mickey? Because if she pursues Carmy, assuming he has feelings for her but only assuming this because of what other people told her, that is kinda fucked up. It all goes back to Fak being the one that tells her that Carmy loved her after all that shit he said while being stuck in the fridge. I swear to God that the more Molly says things favoring ClairexCarmy, the more red flags I see. Did Claire pursue Carmy knowing it would be a sure thing. "Oh yeah I remember you, you had the most obvious crush on me"
There is also the context of both of them growing up in the same spaces, Carmy very shy and Claire a very popular girl. Did she hear how lonely that was, which made her assume he was avoiding her because of a lack of social experience?
In their first phone call, she never let him explain if he was bussy, even after all that talk of her being supportive of the restaurant she said "don't make this weird," Claire was completely dismissing that Carmy was indeed doing something important to him; she never offered to work around both of their schedules, almost like she knew that if she "pushed" enough, she would get what she wanted.
And even that, their first date or hangout is not to a coffee place, maybe a restaurant with Claire actually interested in Carmy's profession and passion, or any other place they could get to actually know each other after, I repeat, a decade of not seeing each other. She brought him to a party.
She knows the Berzattos and how gatering will go on their avail, she knows Michael will set things on fire, she knows he comes from a family of addicts, and she knows carmy had difficulties on social environments (we can assume by the pictures they had around, taht Carmy attended to her birthday party and other stuff surely).
So why the fuck, on their first "date," not only does she insist on going to a party, but she tells him that he "owns her" to go there? Where there is alcohol and other people that he may felt rejected for as a kid? She knows this is a scenario that may cause him anxiety or discomfort, and she insists he must go. Maybe I am projecting a little bit here, since I am autistic, and at some point in all my friendships or relationships, I have to have a conversation about places that, because of my disability, I don't enjoy.
(little note aside: the excuse "my friend needs me" to convince him to go was utterly pathetic. Almost as much as "you own me.")
But what does this mean coming from Claire in the "pushing" thing? Does she feel she can push him to become (kinda by force) the person that will hang out in the same places as she does, assuming that is still what he wants?
She also knows that he probably felt cast aside from social events because of his shyness, and she invites him to provide all the things that may cause her to look like his only anchor in this stressful scenario.
She brought him the soft drink, tried to tell other people what a cool job he has, and told him what to do to comfort and upset a friend of hers. It felt like she was walking him on a tutorial on "how to be normal," and I didn't like that at all. Again, I may be projecting here, but the dynamic was kind of hollow regardless.
It is not like it is bad for Carmen to socialize and whatever. But she removed his agency completely; it feels like manipulation on many levels because she has perceived a lot of his struggle in this area; she also ignored his first reaction to going to the party and flipped her way. Carmy ended up trapped with a lot of immature young adults with whom he definitely has nothing in common. There was no space for actual empathy or connection to him to "come out of his shell." His conversations with Sydney are so natural because of this; there is connection and mutual respect, and he was very out of his shell with her.
The Pushing between Carmy and Syd this next season will likely be in a professional context but also rooted in a (future) agreement on mutual collaboration. But my feelings about this are not only for sydcarmy.
The "pushing" in ClairexCarmy was always in the context of Claire getting what she wanted and Carmy having to force himself to make it happen. There was no discussion, no middle ground, not even a recognition of why certain things have been difficult for you in the past; it is not an actual intention of helping to heal, but an expectation of the other to go your way "because they want you/love you. Claire is sure that only because of her will he want to change, and she will gain his heart by providing the scenario for all these things Carmy desperately wanted as a kid. I am sorry, Storer, if this is the love story you want to sell us, a salvation of all lonely/hurt people, I am very sorry, I hate it with all my heart.
#very anti claire bear here#she has affection for him but dude affection can be very conditional#and affection doesn't mean understanding and doesn't mean compatibility#the bear#sydcarmy#carmy berzatto#sydney adamu#the bear fx#carmen berzatto#the bear meta#carmy the bear#carmy x sydney#sydney x carmy
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
Why No Writing Advice Seems To Work
There’s millions of tips out there for writers, but so much of it just doesn’t apply, and it often feels like nothing ever works because you have to wade through a million failures before you find a success. But why is that, exactly?
1. Implicit phasing. Seeking advice while in the drafting phase of your writing can be difficult when many popular tips are more important during the editing phase. It can build on perfectionism struggles that a lot of writers have, but a lot of people genuinely don’t realise that this advice will suit them better for editing rather than drafting. If it’s about improving what you’ve already got, or just improvements in general, don’t touch it until you’re editing; you can’t improve on something that doesn’t exist, so you’ll just be going over the same draft a gazillion times without making progress. What you need to look for are tips for brainstorming, getting out of a funk, etc
2. Concept to blueprint. For me, literal thinking has kept me from understanding a lot of writing advice and, even when I’ve got the gist of it, I struggle to figure out how to take it from a general phrase (e.g. “Show don’t tell”, “Make it a habit”) to something actionable that tells me what I need to do. If you’re misunderstanding what the advice is saying, or you don’t know what actions it’s implying that you take, of course it’s not going to be helpful. Sitting down and dedicating a minute or two to considering it can really help, and if you’re still unsure then always feel free to ask other writers; there’s bound to be others who were in the same boat that can share their own interpretations and the actions they took that helped them
3. Hobbyist approach. If you’re only writing for fun, and especially if you don’t consider yourself a ‘real writer’, it’s easy to think that some of the advice doesn’t apply to you. For me, I always thought that the whole “Write every day, make writing a habit” thing was just for people who were super serious about it or on a schedule, not for people who were just writing for fun and didn’t mind it taking forever. But after trying out NaNoWriMo, I realised I actually quite enjoy having a set routine that allows me to see consistent improvement, and even after NaNoWriMo I experimented to see how often I could write without it feeling more like a chore than a fun activity. It’s definitely worth it to at least try out tips that you think may not apply to a hobbyist just working for fun; sometimes you might learn something else about your writing style, even if the tip doesn’t work for you
4. Unique takes. Ultimately, we’re all different people with different experiences, habits, interests, styles, physical abilities and neurotypes; not everything will work for everyone. And that’s a good thing! Yes, it’s frustrating when we try a popular tip and it just doesn’t work for us like it does others, but that’s one more thing we know about ourselves and how we work, and maybe it’ll lead us to a new discovery that makes it easier going forward. If everyone was the same, all our writing would be the same, and that would be boring. You’ll stand out as a writer by working differently to achieve unique results. And if you find something that works for you, make sure you share it in case others benefit, too!
5. Customise. Finding your own tips and sharing them can lead others to you, and it all starts with experimentation; try new things, mix and match existing tips you’ve tried and figure out what can be adjusted to make your writing process better. I can’t keep to NaNoWriMo’s 1667 words per day demands, it’s too much work in too little time, but I can do 1000 words every week and be much more consistent than I used to be. Or maybe watching your word count all the time demotivates you? Try changing your measurement from X words to writing for Y amount of time - or you could even try both and say you’ll write for a max of Y minutes unless you can reach X amount of words beforehand. Even if it’s not something that was originally intended by the tip, can you find a way to customise it to work better for you?
#writing#writers#writeblr#bookblr#book#writers on tumblr#writerscommunity#writers of tumblr#writer#creative writing#how to write#on writing#write#writing tips and tricks#writing tips#writing tricks#writing advice#female writers#queer writers#writblr#writer stuff#writer things#writing is hard#writing life#young writer#writerscreed#writer problems#writerblr#writersnetwork#writersociety
60 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
kikxnow
KikxNow , Digital Creator
icky8
erm
umineque
Full Time Ginny Weasley Stan
hi-we-are-tatu
Our home forever is Outer Space