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#like i expect nothing from companies or magazines
faunandfloraas · 3 months
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Full offense but fans who get to go to fanmeets or performances and get close enough to take pictures and then proceed to whitewash the boys or maybe even face app their features so a nose looks smaller or sharper, skin texture is non existant, etc etc. Are literally bastards to me. You don't deserve to be there.
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golden-cherry · 3 months
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deal - cl16 (23/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: There's nothing sweeter than unexpected visitors.
Warnings: 18+ (just be prepared for some words), fluff (like a lot), Pascale is the sweetest thing on this planet, teeny tiny bit of angst
Word Count: 3.2k
series masterlist
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A/N: hello everyone! I hope you all are doing okay after the Ferrari-Carlos-Lewis thing, because I'm still in denial. this is mostly fluff, because I couldn't manage you dealing with more bad stuff this week. love you! feedback is appreciated!
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Before you can say anything or even react, the blonde woman lets go of your hands and snatches one of the magazines lying on the coffee table in front of you. She rolls it up with her slender fingers before smacking Charles across the back of the head. 
"Maman!" he exclaims angrily, rubbing his head. "What are you doing? Are you crazy?"
The woman holds the magazine under his chin so that the Monegasque has no choice but to look her in the eye and return her stare. "That's no way to talk to your mother." She puts the magazine back in its rightful place before turning to you again. "Try again, chéri."
Your friend has to hold back a grin before he spreads his arms out and hugs his mother. "Good morning, Maman. It's really good to see you."
"It's good to see you too, mon chéri," she replies lovingly, stroking his broad back once with her hand before releasing herself from the tight embrace. She puts her hands to his cheeks to study his face. "I didn't know you were back home."
Charles tilts his head, his mouth forming a thin line. "I'm sorry I didn't let you know," he replies meekly, taking her hands from his cheeks so that he can press a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "I've had a lot on my mind."
"I can see that." She pulls her hands from his and then turns to face you. When she looks at you, you stiffen. All of a sudden, you feel as if you're naked in Charles' clothes, she's looking at you so piercingly. "I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself properly yet. I'm not usually as rude as my son." Charles rolls his eyes as her smile is affectionate and gentle. Then she wraps you in a hug that is careful, but firm nonetheless. It's a good hug. "I am Pascale. It's nice to meet you."
"Likewise." After you've also introduced yourself, you return her smile. 
"Now that you two have met," Charles interrupts your conversation. "How do we come to be honored with your company, Maman?"
As if it was her own home, her own four walls, Pascale leaves the hallway and goes into the kitchen, where she grabs a cup and makes herself an espresso at the coffee machine. Like two lost puppies, the two of you follow the beautiful woman. "I was called in tears last night." When the loud buzzing of the machine stops, she takes a sip of her coffee before placing it on the countertop. "Can someone explain that to me?" With her eyes glued to her son like an annoying price sticker on a new plate, you're off the hook. 
"I didn't think she'd call you."
She?
"And I didn't think you'd just kick her out of the apartment without giving her some warning," Pascale replies sharply, raising an eyebrow to show her disapproval of Charles' behavior. "She called me in the middle of the night, upset with you and crying bitterly because you kicked her out of the apartment with a simple text message."
Something flashes in your mind. When you followed Charles back to the bedroom last night, he was typing away on his cell phone. And when you told him that he'd be crazy if you went with him to the apartment where his ex still lives, he assured you that she wouldn't be there. 
You didn't expect him to just throw Annika out of the apartment so that you would have a safe place where Raphael couldn't harm you.
"Maman." Charles raises his hands placatingly. "It wasn't like that."
"So you didn't send her a text message telling her to pack her things and leave within thirty minutes?" When Charles doesn't reply, but simply stares at his mother open-mouthed, she runs her fingers through her hair in bewilderment. "I didn't bring you up like that. Have you completely lost your mind?"
"Maman -"
"No 'Maman'." Judging by the look on her face, she would like to hit him over the head with the magazine again. "Do you know what the consequences could be?"
"Maman -"
"She could go public with it!"
"Maman -"
"And - and damage your reputation! She could -"
"Maman!" Charles almost shouts at his mother to break out of her mental spiral. She looks angrily at her son, who takes a small step towards her. He lowers his hands. "Annika cheated on me."
As if all the air had escaped her body, Pascale plops down on the chair where you were eating pancakes just a few minutes ago. She puts her face in her hands and takes a deep breath before looking at her son again. She tries to blink away the tears in her eyes. "Is there anything I can do for you, mon chéri?"
Without answering, Charles closes the distance to his mother and holds her tightly in his arms. He rests his cheek on the top of her head and closes his eyes. "It's all right, Maman. Please don't worry, okay?" He squeezes his mother a little tighter as her arms wrap around his middle. "It's all right. I'm all right. I'm in good hands here."
Pascale's gaze flickers to you and a small smile crosses her beautiful face. You recognize Charles in it. "You'll take good care of him, won't you?"
You feel the blood rush to your face. Suddenly it feels wrong to be witnessing this loving conversation between mother and son. "Of course." With everything I have.
"Very well, chéri," Pascale finally says, gently pushing her son away. "Your brother is coming to visit tomorrow. As you haven't seen each other for a while, I'd like you to come to dinner. He would definitely be happy to see you." She looks at you again. "You too, sweetheart."
Before you can respond, Charles looks at you and shakes his head, barely noticing, so you don't turn down her invitation. "All right, maman. We'll be there." He nudges her lightly with his elbow. "As long as there's pasta e pollo."
Pascale rolls her eyes. "You're incorrigible, Charles." She smiles at him anyway. "Your new girlfriend gets to decide. After all, she's the new addition to our family and I want to make a good impression."
"Maman, she's -" Charles tries to explain himself, but his mother merely raises her hand to silence him. When Charles and your eyes meet, you feel warm. And when he pushes his lower lip forward, he looks so cute that you can't help but agree with him. 
"Pasta e pollo sounds great."
Pascale gets up from her chair. "Very good. Then I'll get everything ready for tomorrow." She strides past you towards the front door and you follow her again. "I'll see you tomorrow evening. I'll let you know the exact time, mon chéri." She kisses Charles' right and then left cheek before repeating it with you. "Tomorrow we'll have enough time to talk about all this. And to get to know each other better."
"I can hardly wait," you answer her honestly.
"That's very nice. Then I'll see you tomorrow evening. Bonne journée," she wishes you before disappearing from the apartment just as quickly as she came in. As the door closes behind her, you both exhale deeply.
"I'm so sorry." Charles turns to face you.
You cross your arms in front of your chest. "Sorry for what exactly? Your mother suddenly showing up here?"
He runs his hand through his hair and leans back against the closed door. "That you're now forced to spend the evening with my family. And that I didn't make it clear that we're just friends."
You run your tongue along the inside of your teeth. "It's okay, there's plenty of time for that." Then you smile. "Your mom seems nice. I have no problem spending time with her."
He laughs briefly and then leans his head against the white wood. "It's not my mom that worries me. It's my brothers. They can be really - you know - brothers sometimes."
You walk towards him and lower your arms. "Why? Are they that bad?"
He grabs one of your hands and plays with your fingers. His eyes search yours. "I think it's better if you make up your own mind about them."
"So they're that bad?" you joke, allowing him to pull you closer so that you're standing between his legs. "If they're anything like you, I think I'll get on well with them."
His free hand rests on your hip. Despite the layers of fabric, you can feel the warmth of his skin. "Then you'll hate Arthur." His fingers press gently into your flesh before something behind you catches his attention and he releases you - too quickly for your liking. As you turn around, the piano catches your eye and the roses standing on it. 
"What's the plan for today?" you ask him, trying to draw his attention back to you. You release his hand from your hip, but only to pull him into the kitchen so he doesn't have to look at those stupid roses anymore. "Do you have to do anything? Gym? Or do you have any appointments?"
Charles sits down in his chair and fishes his cell phone out of the pocket of his sweatpants. "I don't think so," he answers and takes a look at his online calendar before placing his cell phone on the counter in front of him. "I don't have any appointments or commitments to meet until after Christmas. Until then, I'm all yours." His smile is sweet as sugar and your heart skips a beat.
You want to grab him by the collar of his shirt, pull him across the worktop and kiss him until you can't breathe. Touch him until the countertop is used for something other than cooking, but this morning you convinced yourself that this friendship is the right and, above all, the only way this can work. And that you wouldn't do anything to sabotage this friendship.
"How about we use this time wisely then, huh?" You reach for Pascale's coffee cup and rinse it. 
"Do you have an idea?" He raises an eyebrow and has to stifle a smile when he sees your grin. "Of course you have one. Otherwise you wouldn't have asked like that. Fire away."
"So," you start and put the cup back in its place in the cupboard. "We've finally spoken and we've agreed to stay in this apartment together."
"As friends," the Monegasque confirms the thought you just had, even if you don't understand why he has to say it out loud. 
Your eyes dart towards the hallway, knowing that the white piano with the red roses is just a few meters away. "What do you say we go out today and buy some new things for the apartment?" you suggest. "Then I could get things for my room and maybe something else to make it feel a bit more like home."
"You mean to make it feel like it's your apartment too?" Charles leans back in his chair a little and runs his hand through his hair. 
"Only if that's okay with you. After all, it's your apartment and I could understand if you wanted to leave everything as it is at the moment and -" you babble nervously without thinking about what you're saying. You look at him worriedly and try to read his face to see if you might have crossed a line. 
"That's actually a good idea," Charles finally replies, smiling at you. "But are you ready for it?"
"For what?" you ask, confused, leaning against the countertop, which - unfortunately - is only used for cooking.
Charles shrugs his shoulders. "For being seen outside. With me." He looks at you like a kicked puppy that's been abandoned on the street in the middle of the night.
"I told you I have no problem with that," you assure him and walk around the kitchen counter to sit next to him. You reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers. "We're friends, Charles. We know we're friends. And I don't care what anyone else thinks they know about us." You tilt your head a little to one side. "Our friendship is real - and that's why we're going right out there to buy some new stuff for the apartment."
His smile almost makes your heart stop. "For our apartment," he corrects you, his green eyes twinkling.
"Our apartment," you repeat softly. 
"Okay." He lowers his gaze to your hands, and the way his fingers wrap around yours makes it feel like they're perfect for each other. The two of you spending time together shouldn't make you this happy. "But we'll only go on one condition."
"What's that?" 
"We're not going alone. We're taking Pierre and Kika with us so that it doesn't look like we're shopping for furniture for our apartment as a couple in love." The fact that he doesn't want to go out alone with you feels like a punch in the gut. When he notices the hurt look on your face, he squeezes your fingers gently twice. "It's just to protect you, Y/N."
The fact that he doesn't trust you to do this hits you harder than it should. How many times do you have to tell him you're ready? That the opinions of others don't matter to you as long as you have Charles by your side? Does he really think you're that weak?
"I don't need to be protected," you reply sharply and take your hand away from him. 
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into," he tries to reassure you, but the fact that he's talking down your feelings doesn't make things any better. 
"Maybe not," you say annoyed and get up from your chair. "But there will come a point when we're on our own. And then everyone's going to be talking shit about us, I get it. And I get that it's going to be bad." You don't care that you're acting like a defiant child. The fact that Charles doesn't want to be seen alone with you hurts more than you would ever admit. "So why not today?"
The young man in front of you looks away from you with a crestfallen expression before also rising from his chair. When he reaches for your hand again, you allow it. "I want you to be able to turn away from me if it gets too much for you. I want you to have the chance to live a normal life if you do decide against me." His other hand rests against your cheek and you snuggle up to him as if it were a reflex. "I don't want you to regret meeting me."
The fact that he thinks you could ever regret befriending him stabs straight through your heart. He wants to protect you from something you both have no control over, and although you'd like to stroll through Monaco holding hands with him, you can understand him.
He is trying to protect both you and himself. And you can understand that all too well. 
"All right," you give in and smile gently at him. "Then ask them if they're free and up for it today. It could be fun."
Charles lets go of you and the warmth that had been flowing through your body immediately disappears. While he talks to Pierre on the phone, you go back to your room to get changed and think about what would look good in your room. 
Different curtains wouldn't go amiss, and some candles and a small mirror would look good on the white chest of drawers opposite the bed. You might also find some new bedding that -
"Y/N?" Charles' voice echoes through the apartment. You find him in the doorway of the master bedroom, where he glances over his shoulder in your direction. "Pierre and Kika are about to head out, then we'll leave together." 
"Okay," you reply, glancing past him into the room. There are a few things lying around that are definitely not his, and the decor doesn't suit him very well either. "So this is your room?" 
"Uh-huh." He wrinkles his mouth a little. 
"What's wrong with it? Apart from the obvious, of course."
He crosses his arms in front of his chest. "Everything. I don't see anything in it that I wouldn't change."
You'd be only too happy to set the whole room on fire if it would certainly help him. Just like the roses that have burned themselves into your memory. You nudge him with your elbow. "Then we've got a lot planned for today." You look at each other and when he reaches for your hand, you have to smile. "You don't have to go through this alone, Charles. We can do this as long as we're together."
His gaze flickers briefly from your eyes to your lips. "Together," he says softly in return, leaning down a little towards you so that you have to tilt your head back to look at him. His warm breath caresses your face as his free hand finds its place on his hip again to pull you against him. You feel his hard body against yours, his heartbeat under your fingertips as you place your hand on his chest. You feel his warmth as his nose bumps against yours, his hip against your stomach as he presses you against him. You feel his -
"Are you ready?" Pierre's voice comes out of nowhere as he and Kika walk through the front door. Thank God the bedroom is further back so they can't see you. 
Instead of letting you go, Charles presses you tighter against him so that you can feel him everywhere. "I think we need a new door lock," he breathes, leaning his forehead against yours. "Then no more uninvited guests can come in when we're together." 
When he finally breaks away from you, you have to take a deep breath. Although you've decided that you don't feel anything for him apart from friendship, he triggers something in you that no one before him has ever managed to do. 
You desire him. From the top of your head to the soles of your feet, you crave him, his touch, his skin on yours. And his words echo in your thoughts, making you dizzy. 
Together. Together. Together. 
You rub your face once and look after Charles, who briefly disappears in the direction of the living room, the opposite direction from your friends.
What you can't see, however, is him shoving his hand into his pants to control his raging boner, which is pressing almost painfully against the seams of his boxers. How is he supposed to put up with that when you live together?
Together. Together. Together.
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nevernonline · 6 months
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✧.* what’s your number?; kmg
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synposis: after finding an online article about the number of sexual partners a woman should have, your day with your neighbor turns into him being lucky number eighteen.
paring/s: model! mingyu x afab! reader, ft. little brother! chan.
genre/s: humor (sort of lmao), neighbors2lvrs vibes, fuckboy&girl reader and gyu.
warning/s: alcohol consumption, sexual content (minors - dni), talks of broken bones, oc has female genitalia
word count: 3.8k
content: seggsy times, idiots being besties, reader loses her job, all the vibes.
note/s: loosely based on one of my fav movies, what's your number with anna ferris. lmao enjoy. also def unedited so srry. xo.
“Miss. Y/L/N. I’m very sorry but we have decided to let you go.” 
Your boss put down a brown cardboard box that once held wine from a staff party about a week ago. You stood in silence, why were you being fired? You’re one of the only executives who does their job. All of the other employees sit around and drink whiskey and flirt with the other women on your floor on company time, go home to their wives, and make six figures. 
“Sir, can I ask why?” 
“Budget cuts, sorry honey.” 
Honey of course. Not only is he himulating you, he’s also being condescending. 
“Why not fire Ted? He does nothing but use his company card for ‘business expenses’ like taking his different fucks to exotic vacations and restaurants.” 
“Our female clients like Theodore. Sorry it has to be this way. Here’s a check to keep your rent underway and for any troubles. Good luck.” 
You picked up the brown cardboard he handed it to you and dumped the white envelope into your bag as you stormed out of his glass chamber. 
Perfect timing, your brothers getting married and you’re getting fired. Your mother will surely love to hear about this. 
After gathering the contents of your desk you found your way back to your white and gray covered apartment, sinking down into the perfect couch you bought yourself as a reward for your first month in the job. 
Pulling your laptop from the pocket of your work bag, you scrolled through the news on your side widget . Coming across an article written in some stupid lifestyle magazine about ‘the appropriate number of sexual partners for women.’ 
“Okay, so society is regressing.” 
Curious enough you scrolled through to a small section with a quiz, childish, but probably suitable for women over 50 or under 21. 
Following your finger down the various categories that pertained to you until it came to the bottom of the page pointing out your result. 
“15 and over, women with this number often have difficulty finding a spouse and are unlikely to ever settle down. Are they fucking serious? Men can fuck 50 women and still are fine.” 
A vibration came from your phone, a text from your neighbor. 
[3:44pm]. 
Mingyu: Mind helping me out? New girl won’t take the bait about my “emergency” 
Y/N: what’s the issue with her this time? 
Mingyu: nothing, just too clingy. I’m expecting you in five, say our dad fell in the shower. Thank you, owe you. 
Y/n: got it see you in five. 
Mingyu and you met often when you were ushering out hook ups or crazy exes show up to your door. You didn’t know much about his life, other than he’s a model, and obviously has bad luck with women. 
Pulling yourself up off your couch and throwing a blazer back over your shoulders you strode off down to the other end of the hallway. 
“Mingyu? Mingyu seriously answer your phone? Hello!” 
The door opened revealing a semi-naked girl, she was pretty sure, blonde, tall, nice eyes, but boring. 
“Who the fuck are you?” 
“Mingyu’s sister, who the fuck are you?” 
“Oh my god! So sorry, hi so nice to meet you, I’m Ailee his gir-“ 
“My friend, y/n. What’s wrong?” 
Letting yourself passes the bra sporting blonde you looked Mingyu straight in the face and pulled out your best crying face, it was easy today being that you’re pissed about work and that stupid fucking quiz. 
“It’s dad, he fell. I don’t think it’s good, we have to go.” 
“Oh. Okay, let me change.” 
Mingyu pulled in his jeans and a white t-shirt, grabbed his fancy leather wallet from the counter and pulled you through the front door of his condo. 
“Ailee, let yourself out okay?” 
“Call me?”
“Uh, maybe it sounds like this is bad, maybe we should stop seeing each other? I’ll call you.” 
The truth is Mingyu was never going to call her, he said that to all the others. Yet, you never saw them again. 
Silently you open the door to your place and shut it behind you. 
“She seems nice.” 
“Yeah trust me, she’s not.” 
“Noted. But, better than that crazy red headed girl, Cass was it?” 
“We don’t have to talk about her.” 
“Missing that jacket still?”
“Yes.” 
Mingyu took his place on your leather armchair and sipped the coffee you had initially made for yourself. 
“What is this? What’s your number?”
“Oh my god. Stop looking at my shit.” 
You whipped the lid of your laptop close and stole it out of his hands
“Do you really think anyone cares how many people you sleep with? Isn’t that kind of fucked up?” 
“You can only say that because well, one your a man and two you’ve fucked basically half the women in this city.” 
“Not true, we haven’t fucked.” 
“Right and we will not.” 
“Sure, sure keep telling yourself that. So what is it? 12?” 
“Do you really need that answer?” 
“Yes. And I will bother you until you tell me.” 
“17.” 
Mingyu laughed, not because he felt bad for you or that you were going to hell for fucking 17 people, but because he didn’t see the big deal. 
“Oh come on, that is not that bad.” 
“What’s yours?” 
“Maybe 20?” 
“We are way too close in number for me to not feel weird about it now.” 
“Because it doesn’t matter, why do you think you couldn’t get a husband or boyfriend or whatever the fuck you want because of that?” 
“I don’t know, I didn’t until today I guess.” 
“Bad day?” 
The dark haired man’s head nodded towards the unpacked cardboard box sitting on your dining table. 
“Weird day. And now I have to go see my family at an overly fancy party and sit around clutching cocktails and lie that I didn’t lose my job, just until their precious boy is married off.” 
“Ah, the black sheep of a rich family huh?” 
“Shut up, no. They’re just judgmental is all. Well, my mom is anyway.” 
“I see. What are you wearing?” 
“I don’t know? What’s wrong with what I have on now?” 
Mingyu looked you over in your semi unbuttoned dress shirt and oversized trousers, sexy and sophisticated, but a little boring for a party. 
“Actually you look good. But, it’s not exactly giving a cocktail party for the sister of the groom. Especially if your mom is as judgmental as you say.” 
“Okay, go in my closet then. Work your weird model magic or whatever, Mr. Jeans and white tee.” 
“Anything for you, rich girl.” 
You walked Mingyu through your bedroom into the oversized walk in closet, filled to the brim of clothes, half of them with tags still on. Gifts from boyfriends, friends, your mother. 
“Wow, I didn’t expect this.” 
“And what did you expect?” 
“A closet turned into an office and like five pairs of the same pants, maybe matching pajama sets. But not this.” 
Sitting down on the small stool you let the man rifle his way through the various colors of fabric. 
“Okay, so this black dress. It’s tight but not overwhelmingly, it’ll show your figure and still make you appropriate. These tall black boots, sexy to show off your long legs and make you look even taller, a nice bag, maybe.. this red one? Or the green, just for a pop of color. Put it on.” 
“You finish quickly .” 
“Never had a woman say that to me before. Hurry up.” 
Smirking, you run back into your bedroom, out of sight from the man tapping his fingers on the marble countertop of your dressing room, sliding into the outfit he picked out. 
“Okay, I look-“
“Beautiful.” 
“Really? Don’t you think this is a little much? I mean, for this?” 
“Not at all, it’s actually really simple. May I?” 
He held up a silver chain necklace in his hands and waited until you nodded as he strung it around your neck. 
“Perfect. Now, leave your hair up. Maybe a nice bun and curl the front pieces? You look nice without makeup on, but do that cute winged liner look you do with a nude lip.” 
“Okay, since when did you become a stylist?” 
“I’m a model, I know what I’m talking about. Come on, chop chop.” 
“Okay, mom. Jesus.” 
“Dad. Daddy, actually.” 
“That's never happening.” 
Doing his instructions as he asked, you curled the front pieces of your hair letting it softly dangle in front of your face and placed the rest up on the crown of your head in a loosely tied knot. 
“Okay. So maybe you’re good at this.” 
“I know. If you need my help further, you know where to find me.” 
“You’re leaving?” 
“Aren’t you?” 
Holding up your phone you realized how much time has passed and grabbed your keys. 
“Right. Thank you.” 
“My pleasure. See you soon, y/n.” 
“Bye, Gyu.” 
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Walking up to the front steps of your parents luxurious brown stone, you felt the cold sweat under your armpits before walking in the front door. 
“Y/N holy shit, where have you been? Mom is going to kick your ass.” 
“Sorry, Chanie. I had something going on. Where is she?” 
“In the dining room with Marnie and Seungcheol. Talking about wedding stuff, please save us.” 
Coming to your brother's rescue was part of the job of being an older sister. Seeing him settle down and get engaged to a girl like Marnie was amazing for you, she was everything he needed, and it was nice to have another girl in your family. 
Grabbing  a glass of champagne from the silver tray of a waiter, you strode up to your mother in your childhood home, still as nervous as you would have been as a little girl to be under her gaze. 
“Aw, my baby. Finally arrived. Hello.” 
“Hi, Mom. Hello, guys.” 
You mom hugged you giving a kiss on both of your blushing cheeks passing you along to greet your brother's future wife and his friend Seungcheol. 
“Y/N, you look amazing. Where did you get this beautiful dress?” 
“Thank you. My friend helped me pick this out actually, I don’t remember where it’s from.” 
“Friend? Which friend is this, darling?” 
“His name is Mingyu, he’s my neighbor.” 
“Gay? He has wonderful taste.” 
“No, not gay mom. He’s a model.” 
“Oh wow, can I see a photo? Why didn’t you bring him?” 
“Maybe next time.” 
After downing the first glass of alcohol you quickly look for another, Seungcheol already holding a glass in his hand for you with a wink. 
“Thank you.” 
“Anytime.” 
“Y/N, can you go find your father? Now that you're here we can start dinner.” 
“Yep.” 
Strolling throw the various rooms full of priceless knickknacks and photos of your youth, you stop at the open oak doors of your fathers study, looking at him for a moment, behind his desk, glasses on, reading his book. 
“Hello, Dad. May I come in?” 
“Y/N, yes of course. Just hiding out here until I can eat some dinner. How are you?” 
“I’m okay, mom sent me to get you to come eat. What are you reading?” 
“Oh, just some Orwell. Relaxes me.” 
“Shall we, sir?” 
“Yes, my girl.” 
You held your arm out for your father, he was always your best friend, someone who no matter what supported everything you wanted to do. He was stern, but even after parenting you he would end it with a hug and a piece of candy, seeing him grow older had your heart in pain. 
Searching the table for your placecard, it sat you right in between your brother and Seungcheol, his best man and best friend for longer than you could ever remember. 
“Are you coming to his bachelor mixer?” 
Seungcheol’s long eyelashes fluttered in front of your face and you noticed how much more mature he looked, he was always cute, but it’s grown on you now. 
“Are you going to embarrass me?” 
“I’m not the one who got drunk in college and broke her arm trying to dive into the fountain.” 
“Ouch. At least I haven’t shit myself drunk as an adult and embarrassed myself in front of the girl I liked.” 
“I did not shit myself. It was a fart.” 
“A fart with a little poop, a shart if you will. What did they call you? Shart Seungcheol?” 
Your mother interrupted the light flirting you two were enjoying and gave a speech about how lovely it is to see her baby marrying a second daughter and so on and so on. 
After everyone downed their salmon and fancy finger food, you got into the silly party bus along side the rest of the bridal party, moving on to the night of drinking ahead of you. 
“Guys let’s play a game on the way to the bar.” 
Your brother's fiancé spoke, turning down the music and passing around multiple bottles of tequila and glasses. 
“Everyone right down a confession on your paper. If we guess whose it is, they have to drink, but if you get it wrong you drink.” 
Looking down at the small pink sheet of paper you wrote about your day, your sex number, and you losing your job. Maybe nobody will get it, maybe nobody will care because they’ll be equally as drunk. 
The game went on as your anxiety grew and nobody had chosen your confession yet, that was until your brother pulled one of the last sheets of paper out from the bowl. 
“Today I lost my job, I let a stupid magazine article tell me how women who have sex with more than 15 men means they’re unloveable and unwanted. I can’t wait to get fucked up. Congratulations! Well that’s my sister.” 
“What? How did you guess that?” 
“I know your handwriting dumbass, drink, everyone drink.” 
Your night continued, nobody mentioned your failure as a person, they just celebrated the happy couple. 
More and more drinks in, maybe the same amount of people you’ve had sex with. You took it upon yourself to get people on the dance floor, when you felt a pair of hands coming up on your hips, turning around to curse them out, you recognized the eyes staring back at you. 
Mingyu. 
“What the hell are you doing here!?” 
“Birthday party, we always come here. What the hell are you doing here?” 
“Mixed sexes bachelor party.” 
Mingyu's hands were still resting on your hips, on top of the very dress he helped you pick out hours before. 
“Exciting. Want to get a drink with me?” 
“I have one.” 
You held up the half empty glass of your Negroni and Mingyu snatched it from your grip, downing it for you. 
“You’re paying.” 
“Yes. That was the plan.” 
His hand pulled out off the dance floor and back over to a pair black leather bar stools, waving the bartender over. 
“Two whiskey sours please.” 
“No, one whiskey sour. I’ll have a whiskey neat.” 
The bartender nodded working his magic for the two rocks glasses. 
“Here you go, tab Mingyu?” 
“Yes, thanks John.” 
“Wow first name bases?” 
“I told you we like to come here. Who’s the pale dude staring at us?” 
You turned around to look at your brother, cheering you from across the bar. 
“My brother, Chan. His wedding party.” 
“Yes, I remember. I meant the one next to him?” 
“Ah, Seungcheol. Best man.” 
“He wants to fuck you, maybe he’s lucky number eighteen.” 
“Maybe he was lucky number ten back in the day.” 
“Do you remember his number?” 
“No, but I’ve already fucked him. In college.” 
“Ah, I see. Still on the hunt?” 
“Not at all actually, I’m celabte now.” 
“No way, I bet you could find many dudes who’d want to fuck you here.” 
“It’s a matter of if I want to fuck them no?” 
“Touchè” 
“What about him?” 
Mingyu pointed to a tall blonde, long hair, and pretty lips. 
“Gorgeous. But not my style. I’m not really in the mood to get laid.” 
“And let my work go to waste?” 
You smiled, sipping your drink and feeling the warm liquid enter your body. 
“You didn’t give me my beautiful face and fat ass, you just put it in a dress. And as my dad says, leave them wanting more.” 
“You’re a very funny drunk, she shocks me even more.” 
“Can I ask you something?” 
“Mhm.” 
“Do you ever get tired of having me save your ass from all those girls? Don’t you want to settle down and not have your neighbor coming over to rescue you all the time?” 
“Maybe the reason I do it is so you’ll save me.” 
“Shut up.” 
“No. I’m serious. I like hanging out with you, I enjoy seeing you, and you’re very entertaining. I like role play.” 
“I see, you have a kink.” 
“All jokes aside, I like seeing you.” 
You were surprised by his gentle voice and nature, you always knew him from the outside, a beautiful guy who has bad luck getting girls out of his apartment for whatever reason. 
“I like seeing you too.” 
Mingyu's hand rested on your thigh as he looked towards the same dance floor he pulled you from before, basically begging you with his eyes to come back out with him. 
You agreed, holding his hands through various sweaty bodies, some you knew and some you didn’t. Dancing along with them to the rhythm of the song, holding yourself up on Mingyu's large frame 
“Surprised to see you in something other than jeans and a tee.”
“You like?” 
“If I say yes are you going to fuck with me over it?” 
“Maybe. Are you going to let me be your lucky number eighteen?” 
“If you promise you don’t have some random girl barge in your door tomorrow to get me to leave?” 
“She’ll be tied up.” 
“Let’s go. I have to say bye to my brother first. Come on.” 
Walking towards the door you spot Chan playing darts with Marnie, who was obviously kicking his ass. 
“Hey! I’m going to head out, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
“Is this Mingyu?” 
“Oh shit, yes Marnie, Chan, this is Mingyu. Mingyu, this is my brother Chan and his fiancé Marnie.” 
Mingyu outstretched his hand to the couple, shaking it kindly. 
“Nice to meet you man, my sister talks about you a lot. Be good to her.” 
“Chan, shut the hell up. Love you both, mwah mwah.” 
“Mingyu if you’re free tomorrow, y/n has a plus one. We’d love to have you.” 
Smiling and whisking Mingyu out of the front door, you began to run together through the light rain falling, two blocks to your apartment. 
“Sorry, my brothers, an idiot.” 
“He seems nice, his wife to be too.” 
You felt your hands shaking in nervousness riding up the elevator to your shared floor. Stepping off and standing in the hallway between your two front doors. 
“Your place or mine?” 
“Well, I picked you up didn't I? Come to mine.” 
Mingyu led you through his familiar front door and helped you out of your wet clothes, throwing them in his washing machine. 
Now standing in his living room, just in your black lace bra and panties, feeling like all those other girls before. Almost in fear of someone knocking to kick you out of his dimmed apartment. 
“Come on.” 
You giggled as he picked up your half naked frame and carried you into his bedroom. 
“Lay down. Off the edge of the bed, trust me.” 
You didn’t say anything just followed his instructions as his fingers came and wrapped themselves around your lace underwear, blowing on your clit with his soft breath as he pulled them down your freshly shaved legs. 
“Fuck.” 
His lips came in contact between your heated center, splitting his kisses between your aching parts and your thighs. 
Your hands working their way through his hair as he used his tongue to work his way around your clit and between your folds, pushing you closer and closer into your own euphoria. 
Maybe you understood why girls didn’t want to let him go, if this was his head game, you can’t even imagine what could come next. 
“You taste so sweet, I should’ve known better to be careful, I might get addicted to you.” 
“Stop with the niceties, Gyu. Can you please fuck me?” 
“Eager are we?” 
“Yes.” 
Mingyu pulled you up by the back of your neck, forcing your head near the top of his dick, waiting for you to wrap your mouth around it and get it sopping wet so he could enter in between your legs. 
“Oh, baby, that feels so good. I love watching you on my dick, but we have to stop before you get me going too much.” 
Your head turned up at him, mascara slightly spilling under your eyes, as you opened your mouth searching for the feeling of his lips on yours, before he planted in on you he spit into your mouth, and inserted himself between the same thighs he was kissing before, slowly entering inch by inch, making you wait to feel him fully inside of you even more. 
“Comfortable, baby?” 
“Yes, faster please.” 
“So polite, but as you said before, leave them wanting more and more. I want you to get riled up.”  
“Yes, sir.” 
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” 
His thrusting became more rapid with your soft moaning, kissing your neck in the process, riding out your high with you, you felt him begging to slow down as his teeth wrapped around your hard nipples, sucking softly at them. 
“You’re so delicious, I don’t think I can last much longer.” 
“Me either, but it’s only round one.” 
“Do you want to do this again?” 
“Eighteen has always been my lucky number, now fill me up.” 
With your final words, Mingyu rode the rest of his high before finishing inside of you, placing a soft kiss on your perfectly pink lips, and dipping his head back down to your center to clean you up with his mouth. 
“Want to stay?” 
“Is that alright?” 
“Yeah, come on. Let’s shower.” 
The tall man led you into his beautiful marble bathroom and turned the water on in his shower built for two. 
“I meant what I said at the bar, you know. I like being with you.”  
Your long arms reached up to his hair, massaging his scalp with shampoo. 
“I meant what I said too, lucky eighteen.” 
“So I’m your lucky number?” 
“Yes, don’t tell my mom tomorrow.” 
“Don’t worry, I’ll tell her that you called me sir and the ass she gave you is indeed perfect.” 
You planted a soft kiss on his lips, before pushing him back under the warm water of the shower head. 
“I dare you.” 
708 notes · View notes
your-nanas-house · 2 months
Note
Soooo I was thinking Cillian X Fan! reader. He takes advantage of the fact that reader admires him sm and uses her for his pleasure…
I'm so so sorry, it took me so long but I was really really smitten with this idea! 🙇🏼‍♀️
Out with the dog
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◇ Pairing: Dark!Cillian Murphy X younger fan!Reader
◇ Warnings: SMUT, Cilly is a perv and bit dark, DUBCON, manipulation, bit mean Cilly (?), oblivious fem reader, fluff, frustration and stress.
◇ Summary: Cillian has company during his daily walk with his dog, Scout.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. I didn't proof read it... I mean I don't re-read my works normally but I just wanted to point it out this time in case I wrote some shit. Enjoy!!! Also thank you @kiss-me-cill-me for your advices and motivation! 🫶🏻
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It wasn't at all what he was expecting when he left the house just to take the family dog for a walk.
The twisted thoughts and stress that had been troubling him all day had become even more insistent with the cool Dublin air and the fall of evening. His mind was really elsewhere when a soft and shy voice interrupted his trail of thoughts, making him realize that he was standing in the same spot, staring at nothing, since a while now.
"Excuse me, sir. I'm so sorry, I really didn't mean to bother you but... I'm a huge fan of your work and—" the voice cracked softly, the younger girl that was standing in front of him looked quite nervous and shy which made him smile slightly.
"I-I-I... sorry, I shouldn't have interrupted you" she quickly apologized, her body telling him that she was going to just walk quickly off... too ashamed of the interaction to actually look him in the eyes again.
"Don't worry..." Cillian started, waiting for her name as he removed his sunglasses, flattering his eyes softly when the dim light hit him. She was very pretty and at least 10 years younger than him for sure, he thought while taking her in.
"Y/n!... Y/n" the young woman revealed nervously, her hands shaking awkwardly, a thing that Cillian noticed immediately and that made him smile a little as soon as she tried to hide it by grabbing into her bag... both hands holding the strap making his breath get bit heavier.
He sure was stressed and frustrated, he thought as his eyes remained on her smaller hands as they moved slightly while she talked... up and down, up and down.
Gosh, he really would have loved to have them wrapped around his cock like that, he was certain that those tiny pretty hands weren't that innocent for sure.
"Beautiful name" he commented with a tiny smile in an attempt to distract himself by his pervy intrusive thoughts. He really didn't need to deal with an article of some random magazine commenting on him walking around Dublin with a noticeable hard-on after talking with a younger woman.
She sure was a pretty thing though, from her hair to her eyes down to her breasts and— he needed to keep hold on himself. What gotten into him? He never objectified a woman like that... it wasn't like him.
He needed to keep going with his walk, clear his mind, regain back the control he usually had and—
"I was actually hoping for a bit of company... would you like to walk with me?... and my dog" the proposal slipped out of the older man unconsciously, as his gaze darkened slowly, his body reacting almost animalisticly... like a hungry predator ready to eat his prey.
Fuck, he cursed in his head, looking away as he waited for a reply from her... a poor way to distract himself from her innocent presence. Poor because the wind was apparently against him as well that evening... blowing her sweet scent towards him so that his nostrils could take her even more in.
The Irishman really hoped silently for her rejection peppered with some tender excuse that could have been true or could have been false... he didn't care much.
But of course, things hadn't been going the way he'd hoped all day so why be surprised when he got a shy yes instead of an embarrassed no.
He couldn't complain though, after the stressful week he had... bit of female company could have been the cure, maybe he was able to do some kind of conversation and focus his mind elsewhere and not on her body... but rather on her brain.
...
The soft breeze started to hit them harder, the walk was going well and the small talk was pretty enjoyable, they talked about lots... changing from deep to light, from silly to serious, from sad to happy.
Cillian was really enjoying her presence, her mature thoughts and her friendly personality. His stress and tension could have flown away if it was for her.... moving lips.
Soft looking, pinkish due to the lipstick she had on and very kissable... the actor could clearly imagine them wrapped around his cock. Wetting it all with her warm mouth as her lips would have painted his bases of that pink— pink, he repeated in his head as his Adam's apple bobbed. He needed to change topic quickly and stop focusing on her goddamn lips.
"What do you think of Barbenheimer?" The Irishman asked, slapping himself mentally for the question.
Just keep walking, Cillian, focus on walking... don't look at her... and her pretty blouse that was getting opened by the wind, exposing bit more of her neckline as it moved the fabric of her shirt as well. Damn wind.
He had reached a point where he couldn't even focus on her speaking, the feeling of being on the edge was getting harder as time passed... he was sure that a little push would have made him completely loose his rational thoughts. And then that's when Scout, his dog, decided to just sprint to reach something... making him loose the lazy grip he had on the leash and make the young woman run after him.
Cillian went quickly after them, his mind trying to stay in focus as he saw her skirt rise up at every bounce she did to snatch the leash for him before anything bad could happen. He was quite sure now that she was hiding a pretty revealing underwear under that modest outfit she was wearing.
"There you go, good boy" her soft voice praised as she kneeled down to pet the dog and take the leash, too busy snuggling with him to notice Cillian's gaze on her bouncing breasts.
She wasn't wearing a bra, he cursed under his breath again, his body too warm because of the jogging, his heart drumming harder against his chest as he tried to calm down and focusing on his breathing... and not her heavy.. panting and sexy one.
When the young woman stood back up and brushed her smaller hand against his to give him the leash... Cillian's self-control reached the end
"Thank you" he murmured in a more low tone as his body started to react at his impulses.
By the way her eyes kept shining as she looked at him, he knew that with a bit of pressure he could have made her do whatever he wanted... but was it really what he wanted? He pondered as his feet made him change the route he normally took when out with Scout, leading the oblivious young woman in a dark alley.
"I agree, things are pretty different nowadays" the older actor commented as he mentioned the conversation they were having, his heart beating even faster as he thought quickly of a plan.
Was he really going to take advantage of that kind fan of him? Was he really that desperate and frustrated?
Questions kept filling his head as his eyes remained on the wet street, lost in thoughts
"Do you do this path every day?" Y/n's voice interrupted the silence, making his baby blue eyes look back at her.
Yes, he was.
"Mhhm.. but I take usually the parallel street" he informed her while looking around to be sure that they were alone. The oblivious and curious look on her pretty face was making him harder than ever, making the uncomfortable feeling become a painful one now.
As soon as the Irishman was sure that there was Noone around he let go casually of the leash, whistling to order something to Scout who... after giving a look at his master headed in a run towards the beginning of the alley, sitting there as a guard. Watching around to warn Cillian if someone would have approached.
A glance at his black dog and he acted, not letting Y/n even questioning him before pressed his plumpy lips against hers as the dark swallowed them more now that her body was pressed against the cold and humid wall.
His big hands moved eargerly to her face and neck to keep her tilted like he wanted so to facilitate the kiss he was stealing.
Her neck was soft and tempting, he could easily leave a mark if he wanted but he didn't had so much time.. so he had to take things faster than he hoped.
As the kiss broke he inhaled deeply, letting his nose brush against hers as his thumbs caressed her skin... he didn't dare to open his eyes and meet her probably wide eyes and swollen lips... his cock was already throbbing and if he did that small action he was sure that the seed he was hoping to shoot in her would have just soiled his trousers.
"Damn, darling" Cillian cursed softly, licking his lips before diving down to kiss her neck while pressing his body against hers in an attempt of finding some friction and swallow her in his lust.. caging her body against the bricks even more.
"Do you want to help me, dear?" he asked softly, stroking her neck slowly as his piercing eyes now watched her carefully, noticing the glimpse of insecurity that was in her wide beautiful eyes
"Bet you want to, hm? Or I could just go to another fan of mine. Bet they would die to have a chance like this, darling... acting less ungrateful than you" he softly threatened in his low voice. His irish accent echoing in her head as he manipulated her young mind.
Of course she wanted to help him, he was her idol and favourite actor of all times... she couldn't really risk it and watch his disappointment towards her. She didn't wanted to be faced by his oh-so famous judgy face.
But the embarrassment and hesitance were there as well... she had a dignity and couldn't just allow him to use her like that, right?
Of course, it was something she dreamed about but was she really ready for that? She didn't even try casual sex in her lige yet. But she sure didn't want him to go to another fangirl and his intense gaze was like a poker face to her... so she was stuck on not knowing whatever he was telling the truth or not.
"I don't have the whole day, darling" Cillian's low voice commented as his gaze shifted towards the spot where his dog was still sitting.
Y/n glances at him again, gulping while trying to silence the battles in her head. She really didn't know what to do, what if it wasn't like he expected or if it would turn out to be a mistake.
"Ok!... Y-Yes, I-I want to help you, Mr. Murphy" Y/n stammered out when the actor started to move away from her.
Her heart beated hard against her chest, making her breath get caught in her throat as her hands started to sweat when he hummed and undoed his pants, pulling out his hard cock without hesitation or patience.
"That's a good girl, get on your knees" his low voice ordered before he moved slowly his tip against her lips, painting them with his pre-cum as he thrusted slightly forward to let them wrap around his red tip.
"That's it... suck" Cillian's voice ordered, allowing to be teased a bit before snapping his hips forward, making her hit her head against the wall and gag around his lenght. "Fuck, love" he cursed with a growl, letting her adjust to him before starting to fuck her mouth till he nearly reached his edge.
The actor's first intention was to just burry his cock deep in her throat and cum there but as his icy eyes wandered down to her kneeled form... and stopped on her clinging thighs the need to feel her young cunt around him became a must.
With a slow motion he moved away from her, letting her breath properly as she dried her spit while catching her breath. Tears already adorning her cheeks... she really was beautiful, the man repeated to himself as a mocking coo left him.
His big hands strokes the soft flesh of her cheeks as he made her get up so that he could smash his lips back against hers, forcing a hungry, toothy kiss that luckily slowed down when she reciprocated it.
Her bare leg was hooked up at his narrow hip, allowing his cock to brush her clothed folds with his help.
He was right... she really was wearing some thing revealing panties, arousing and innocent enough to make him just want to fuck her with them on. His thick finger made its way towards her entrance, curling around the fabric to move it with ease so that it was now half-hugging his lenght... allowing her folds to wet his cock while the panties squeezed it as he thrusted.
His leaking tip kept smearing his pre-cum on her spot skin and onto the fabric of her skirt each time it touched it. The hardness of it managed to gift some attention to her clit as well while his thrusts sped up.
Cillian could feel her juices dripping from his cock down to his balls and the underwear squeeze harder around him now that he was moving them in a difference pace.
It didn't took him much to reach his own peak, his body was quickly shaking and limp against her as his warm cum decorated her clothes. He was too desperate to care or to stop himself so that he could have used her pussy to pleasure him a bit more... not that he complained. He was fully satisfied, sweat was running down his forehead as he breathed heavily against her shoulder as he slowly got down his peak, his thrusts slowing down till he was too overstimulated to receive any further touch.
"Darling... can I keep your panties?... So that I can wash them and give them back to you clean, of course" Cillian casually asked, fixing her hair in a tender manner while brushing slowly his thumb on her swollen lips, watching her panting.
Guess the destiny decided for us... we will meet soon again, darling. Just to give you back your undergarments, of course, he thoughts as he tucked himself back and fixed his clothes, ready to continue the little walk they were having previously.
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386 notes · View notes
oracle-of-dream · 11 days
Note
Now that I know you write for svt can you please do a dom Mingyu x sub male reader smut with size kink?
I'll do you one better.
Photo Finisher
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Minors DNI
Summary: Another day, another dick... A photoshoot for Cosmopolitan rolled your way with a promising model. Seventeen's largest member, Mingyu, asked for you by name...
Warnings: (Not Proofread) Male Reader, Size Kink, Massive Cock Mingyu, Creampie, Cockwarming, Carry/Lifting Sex, Struggles of fat cocks, Daddy nickname, Mention of blood (not related to sex), Cursing, Painful sex
Wordcount: 2k
Images flicked by as you tossed through the pages of recent issues of Cosmopolitan magazine. You could tell the photos were taken by professionals but lacked that glow that you enjoyed in your pictures. It just wasn't the same without it. You'd been commissioned by the magazine's owner to take photos for their next cover, apparently, their model asked for you specifically but withheld their identity from you.
Irritated, you walked into the studio, looking around for who your mystery client was. They have some nerve to call for you and not even give you a name. How the hell were you supposed to start and pre-work without knowing your client or studying other photos of them?
Your manager approached you, seeing your expression. "Y/n, I know you're not in the best of moods but let's not do anything to get us fired."
"Fired?" You raised your eyebrow. "Whoever this means so much to the company, I could get fired!?"
"No–" You ignored your manager's horrible attempt at recovery as you marched over to the dressing room door. He stepped in the way, blocking you from entering. "Just promise there won't be any blood to clean!"
"I'll make sure the bleeding will be internal. If you don't move, it'll be you internally bleeding."
They sheepishly moved aside, granting you access. You threw open the door to see a man with bronze skin, broad shoulders, and a military cut. He turned to you with a big smile. "Hello! You must be my photographer. I'm Mingyu, from Seventeen."
"Hi, Mingyu." You slowly entered the room, only the sound of your shoes clicking on the floor. "Why did you hide your name from me in the beginning?"
"I thought you might say no if you knew who I was... I've heard you're very picky with clients." Mingyu's head lowered like a puppy. "I hope that's not too much to ask."
You rolled your eyes. For someone so big, he was so docile... "Don't do that again. It's impolite." He nodded diligently. You sized him up; He was much taller than you, with a bicep the size of your head, and his chest bulged in the button-up he was wearing–the button held on for life. "Let's try and start again. I'm Y/n, and I'll be your photographer."
"I'm Mingyu, from Seventeen. It's nice to meet you." Mingyu stretched out a massive hand to shake yours, which made you feel small as he enclosed it in the handshake.
"Now we're acquaintances. Do you have any questions about my process?" You crossed your arms, trying to appear larger but it was useless against the mountain before you. Mingyu shifted his weight, looking around at the other staff in the dressing room. You scoffed, "Can we have the room please?" The makeup and clothing staff rushed out, relieved to get away from you. "Your questions. Speak."
Mingyu shifted awkwardly again before opening his mouth, "I-I didn't expect you to be so forward about things. I just want to look as good as possible, and you're very talented. So, I'd like to ask for whatever treatment is necessary."
It sounded like he practiced this speech a few times before speaking it. You smirked at the thought of him nervously practicing for you. "Sure. Do you know what you want?"
"W-What I want?"
"Yes. You've got to have something, right?"
"What can I ask for?"
"Nothing too physically damaging, I still need to work. But I want what you want, so tell me what you like about me."
Mingyu's eyes scanned you, as he'd been doing since you'd walked in. He honed in on your waist. "I wanna hold you."
"Okay, that's simple." You kicked off your shoes and waited for his embrace. When Mingyu lifted you off the ground by your waist, you gripped his arms for balance.
"Is this okay?"
"Fine. Just wasn't expecting to come off the ground..." You were level with his face now, about to admire his features much closer. His attached earlobes made his whole ear look larger cutely rounding out his face. But his sharp cheekbones and facial lines made him look more like a man–as well as his impressive figure.
"You're so... small." You'd never been called small before. The way Mingyu experimentally squeezed your sides forced a moan from you. "And you're voice is so... cute." Mingyu pulled you into him, holding you to his chest, you could feel his heartbeat racing.
"You're so excited already?"
"Maybe... I've got a thing for small things." He smirked at you, looking down at you. "When do we... do more?"
"Whenever you're ready. I've already prepared myself, but you may break me anyway..."
"I'm not a kid. I try not to break my toys," Mingyu's low voice rumbled in his chest as he lifted you to his lips easily. His lips engulfed yours as he shifted his arms to your legs, making you wrap around him. Even his tongue was thick when it forced past your lips. You twitched wrapping your arms around his neck to hold him close. Mingyu walked you to a chair, sitting down while setting you in his lap. "Come on, Mr. Photographer. Show me more." The smugness in his voice was completely different from the shy man you were talking to moments ago. You tried to lift your shirt over your head but Mingyu stopped you. "I want to fuck you in your clothes..."
"Fine. That's easier for me, but try not to mess your clothes up."
"I'll have to cum in you to not make a mess."
"Is that you trying to ask or are you telling me?"
"Depends on which one lets me cream you."
"Both do." You giggled as you slid your pants down enough for your ass to hang out.
Mingyu lifted you onto your knees, balancing you on his lap, to smack your ass a few times. One hand focused on kneading your ass while the other unbuttoned Mingyu's pants. Your hands on his massive shoulders, looking so small, Mingyu loved every second of watching you shake over him. When he managed to unleash his cock, he smiled up at you, "You wanna look first?"
You took a glance over your shoulder. It was at least ten inches. Probably–Definitely more. "That's going in me? You'll kill someone with that one day."
"No one's died yet."
"How do you want me?"
"You're gonna ride it."
You scoffed, "Are you serious? How could I lower myself onto that?"
"I'll help you. Don't worry, Daddy's got you." He winked.
"Fuck you." Your tongue poked your cheek as you reached down to line yourself with his cock. Mingyu's hands gripped your waist, their warms making your skin tingle. He held you tightly, ready to control how much cock you'd get at any time. "Just don't slam me down. I'd like to be able to walk for the rest of today."
"I thought I was supposed to get what I like."
"And I said no physical harm."
He nodded. "Of course. You're the boss."
"Sure, Daddy," You said as you slid onto his tip. It was so thick that your hole was already stretching more than you prepared yourself for. "Jesus," You whispered, trying to keep yourself stable on his shoulders.
"Leave on me as much as you need. Take your time, it's no rush."
"Don't piss me off," You grunted through gritted teeth. You were taking your time, but it just kept going. Every time you sank an inch, you used your hand to feel how much was left to go–and it always felt like you hadn't made any progress. "You fat cock, fucker."
"Are you cursing at me?" Mingyu raised an eyebrow.
"No, I was just–Holy fuck!" Mingyu pushed you down onto him, more than you were ready for. "What the fuck!?"
"Don't curse at me. I told you to take all the time you needed, and you're not listening. That's not my fault." You took deep breaths through your nose to keep yourself from crying. The pain raked through your whole body as your hole was still so tight it could barely stretch for Mingyu.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to curse."
"That's better. Now, let me help you." Mingyu lifted you, making your eyes roll as your guts moved back into place. Then he lowered you back down, making your nails dig into his shoulders. "That's it, squeeze as hard as you like. I've got you." Mingyu's words were soft-spoken and light as he moved you like a weight at the gym. At every down, he made you take more of him. He continued this pattern until you sat completely on his lap, his entire cock somehow buried inside you. Your mouth hung open but no sound could describe the full feeling you were experiencing. You'd had so many types of cocks, but one like this was different. He was a monster and he was balls deep inside you. "I don't think you can move, so I'll do it for you then." Mingyu used you, like a fleshlight, holding you tighter as he lifted his hips into you.
Your mouth overflowed with drool, dripping down onto your chest. Mingyu leaned forward and licked it up. "Such a mess slut, aren't you? You just use your job to get free cock from idols. Is the 'glow' thing even real, or do you just like getting stuffed?"
As much as you wanted to argue, your brain was full of static. You couldn't work your mouth right, only shallow gasps and soft moans spilled out.
"Let's end this now, we've still got work to do," Mingyu grunted as he stood, carrying you with him. He loosened his grip on you to let you slide until you were perpendicular to his torso. Your legs on his shoulders, his hands supporting your back and waist, and his cock pointing straight inside you. "Try not to scream. And don't bother holding your orgasm back. It's better to watch you cum all over yourself." Mingyu thrust once, forcing a loud moan out of you as your eyes rolled.
You had to focus on not letting your head dangle or you'd choke on your own tongue. But it was pretty difficult with the way you were pushed by each thrust and pulled back in with the momentum of your body. Mingyu moved at a moderate pace, but the strength behind each thrust made it feel like he was drilling you. You were being forced over the edge at 100 MPH.
"Please, cum... fast," You begged.
"For you cutie, I'll do just that. But, it'll be tough, so try not to bite your tongue off." Mingyu smiled as he cocked his hips back further and hit you with the same speed and power, but making more of his dick move. It was enough to instantly force you to cum, making a mess as ropes of cum shot all over your shirt. Your tightening hole made it harder for Mingyu to keep himself together as he went to town on you. His thrust had a moan behind it as his sweat dripped onto your body. "I'm gonna cum–come 'ere," Mingyu pulled you up as he hugged you tightly, fucking you through his high. The way his cock bulged with each wave of cum that passed through his cock was devilish. His whole body was made for fucking and it took you so long to realize it.
When you gained enough sanity to register the rest of the room around you, Mingyu was sitting back in the chair holding you as you laid on top of him–his cock still inside you.
"We've gotta work," You groaned as you tried to climb off. But Mingyu's grip on your body was so tight that you couldn't move.
"Five more minutes. Then work."
Mingyu held you hostage for almost fifteen minutes before you convinced him to let you go. You had to have an intern wheel you around in a chair to get your photos, but you still got them... All while Mingyu had that dumb smirk on his face, as he stared at you through the lens.
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midnightarcheress · 20 days
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Simon lives up to the nickname. 
pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader 2 | gold rush masterlist.
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every time you set a foot out of the house, he’s there. surely, a few steps behind, just like the orders say, but he’s there, hauntingly following you like a true ghost. lurking in the darkness or making himself known in broad daylight, he takes the job seriously, glaring at the people on the street who even dare to glance at you. it’s even worse when fans stop you for an autograph or a picture, towering by your side and meticulously watching every move made in your direction, getting ready to pounce at any minute.
the first few days were weird. he could sense how disconcerted you acted in his presence, even while flashing him a smile and saying a sugary ‘good morning’. maybe it was his size, maybe it was the mask, maybe it was the fact that a man was actively following you nearly every second of the day. the last thing he wanted was to frighten you.  
after a few weeks though, he noticed you getting accustomed to his company. he watched from behind how your back wasn't as tense, how you stopped glancing over your shoulder to check if he was still there, how you weren’t jumping anymore when he’d get closer, how you even tried to make small talk, despite his grunt-like answers. 
Simon didn’t want to admit it, but he couldn’t have been more wrong about you. you weren’t a pretentious rich brat as he expected. you were always polite, always smiling, always treating everyone in your way with nothing but kindness, something he wasn’t used to seeing. he reasoned that it was just your job as a very public person, after all, you had an image to uphold and he’d never actually seen you without the constant risk of being photographed and blasted online.
but in that moment, he couldn’t help the genuine concern for your safety starting to fill his chest and surpass the mere contract bond. he would catch himself staring at you for a little too long as you walked together, eyes attentively chasing the sway of your hips in each movement of your legs, the delicate way your finger held a pen whilst signing your name, your beaming irises whenever a child recognized you. he couldn’t bear the idea of being acknowledged on the street for his acts like you do.
“just ignore them.” you say, looking over your shoulder and noticing him stopping on his tracks on the pavement. for Simon, dealing with the paparazzi has been the most difficult part. military training comes in both an advantage and disadvantage, as his sniper eyes bust them from a mile away, spotting the greedy lens with intense precision, no matter how well-hidden they think they are. but the hard task is to keep his anger and itch to rip the camera apart at bay, when all they want is to snap you in bad light and sell it to the first rubbish magazine.
he grumbles, muttering cuss words under his breath. “you’ll get used to it.” the sympathetic tone of your voice eases a bit of his annoyance, going back into walking right behind you. 
the smell of freshly brewed coffee fills his nostrils as he opens the door of a small cafe for you to come in, rapidly scanning the room for threats. at that point, he already had your order memorised by heart. medium iced americano, no sugar. too bitter of an option for someone who looked so sweet, despite being accompanied by whatever muffin the store had left. 
“Ghost?”
his crossed arms tense up when you call for him, brows knitting together as he assesses the situation for any problem that may have appeared in the seconds he stood distracted by the waving of your hair under the air conditioning breeze. “mhm? what is it?”
“i asked you if you want anything.”
his knee-jerk reaction is to say a hasty no, thanks, but he’s finding it harder and harder to deny your offerings each day, when the small curve of your lips as you patiently wait for his response is so tempting. think faster. “uh, guess i could go for a tea. earl grey.” 
you nod and hand the barista your card, quickly paying for the order and standing by the counter. he remains a few steps back, waiting for the drinks with you. as soon as it’s ready, you hand him the cup of tea, fingers gently grazing over his, sending lightning sparks on his skin. keep to yourself, Simon. 
he shakes the feeling away and opens the door again, catching your eyes flicking to the silver pendant around his neck. once again, old habits die hard. he still wears his dog tags, the glinting metal serving as a constant reminder that he’s Simon Riley civilian, but will always be Simon Riley soldier. 
“military?” you question, stepping back to match his pace and walk by his side, curious eyes searching for his hardened gaze.
“yes.” his voice is sharp, settled in not prolonging the conversation.
you hum, turning your head back to the horizon, “that explains your skill set.” only then he shifts to see your face, raised eyebrows and question marks oozing out of his head. you chuckle, amused by his confused expression, “i got a file on you too, Simon.”
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cordycepsfem · 4 months
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Play With It
So I'm reading this book, Crap: A History of Cheap Stuff in America, by Wendy A. Woloson, mostly because I'm fascinated by collectors and how things like Beanie Babies and Precious Moments figurines became huge in the market. I just started the chapter on novelties, gag gifts, joke things like exploding cigars - you know the stuff.
And I was not expecting genuine exploration of "gendered stuff" in this book, but there it was, and damn, was it a punch in the chest. It made me realize exactly why I'd always hated pranks.
In the 1883 book Peck's Bad Boy and His Pa, George Peck argued that the "best" boys are "full of tricks." He explained, "Those who are the readiest to play innocent jokes... are most apt to turn out to be first-class businessmen." Pranking showed a high-spiritedness, a willingness to take risks, and most important, the drive to show oneself as top dog. Perpetuating practical jokes on each other was a way for the best and the brightest to establish hierarchies within bonded groups in the guise of good-natured fun.
The pranks themselves were violations; the "conspiracy" that brought about public embarrassment made them doubly so. The point of performances with theaters of aggression was to distinguish the people who were in on the joke - witnesses and collaborators - from the humiliated, who were not... Likewise, boys could have fun "scaring your mother, uncle and aunts and the neighbors" with the Tarantula (a.k.a. Mexican Spider). Just when the "victim" was starting to smile, a button on the Royal Novelty Company's Squirting Camera could be pushed, releasing "a good squirt of water." "Boys, this is the very best joke and causes no end of fun and laughter," the company promised... The "fun commenced" with the Girl Catcher only after a girl inserted her finger into one end: "No matter how hard she pulls she cannot get away! The harder she pulls the tighter it holds. When you are ready to release her she can get her finger out easily, but not before." Jokes and gags of this sort created "disruptive" and "provocative" situations that ultimately reinforced the status quo... many jokes and gags involved a distinct gender component. Jokes like Girl Catchers and Squirting Cameras gave boys license to dominate girls as they would later dominate women. What was more, these jokes made girls complicit in their own humiliation, since perpetrators needed ready victims who, because of habits of politeness and deference, would have to be good sports. Although there was nothing preventing girls from buying and deploying novelty goods, they were told in so many ways that this was not their world. Humor and play belonged to boys more than them. Despite the promise of "fun for all," joke and gag articles were in truth a boy's (and man's) game, and pranking reinforced gender hierarchies. Boys (and men) did things while girls (and women) looked on. Further, boys (and men) had the power - physically, culturally - to do things to girls (and women)... pranking reinforced the widely held assumption that the fairer sex did not possess an innate sense of humor; women didn't even have a legitimate reason for engaging in humorous activities in the first place.
These small consumables opened boys to expansive worlds of limitless possibilities far beyond the confines of the home and its stifling domesticity. Merchandise evoking wonderment, curiosity, and acquisitiveness put within boys' reach, often quite literally, fun, exciting, new, and unapologetically frivolous experiences. In contrast, the toys available to girls prepared them for the domestic work they would be performing for the rest of their lives. Advertisements in girls' magazines dutifully promoted toys offering only inward-looking experiences... meanwhile, boys' literature... promoted toys and games that looked outward, toward adventure, the frontier, and anything else that might seize the imagination.
More sophisticated jokes and gags were predicated on the prescribed roles of girls and women as domestic and domesticated caretakers. Doubly cruel, they not only reinforced women's inferiority but also exploited their submission for a laugh. Women's caretaking sympathies made them susceptible to gags like the false ear bandage and the false chipped tooth. Likewise, their charge to maintain a clean household provided the fodder for many fake ink spills on fine linens... Because an imitation cigarette pretended to obliterate a woman's careful work and ruin her furnishings, it was, apparently, hilarious. The humor of novelties was not just "transgressive" and "subversive." It was also mean-spirited and corrosive, used to demean and embarrass, "at the expense" of someone else. ... perpetrators of jokes needed not just gag and pranks but also victims to serve as the "butt" of the joke.
How many of these things are still with us today? The notion that "women aren't funny." Or "she just can't take a joke."
The toy stores with their gendered aisles, providing dolls and toy houses and pretend kitchens with very obvious marketing to girls, while the aisles geared towards boys have cars and sports equipment and robots and spaceships and building blocks. Girls' toys are still made for them to "look inward," and boys' toys are still giving them the chance to "look outward." Even "girls" versions of Lego are pink and purple, because apparently we wouldn't want those girls to build anything too serious like a car or a rocket; their sporting equipment is covered in flowers or made by Mattel and rarely holds up to adequate sporting interaction.
I worked at a toy store for a period of time and only once did I have a parent specifically ask for, then purchase, a toy version of a pretend home good for a boy. It was a woman who wanted to buy a toy vacuum cleaner for her son, who was obsessed with the family's vacuum cleaner and wouldn't accept that he couldn't run it all the time. The general idea I got from her was that instead of being a normal adult who owns a vacuum and enjoys keeping their home tidy, she was hoping that her son might grow into a vacuum cleaner retailer, maker, or repairer. Even the "girls' toy" was "looking outward," simply because it was for a boy.
I had a lot of parents ask me for toys for girls that were "less" or "more" in many ways. Where are your dolls with more clothes on? With less makeup on? Do you have a doll that's not wearing a dress? Do you have it in a color that's not pink?
We haven't grown out of this since the 1880s. And I'm tired of the periodic regression that happens with toys. The Lego I used in the 1990's and early 2000's didn't have a purple or pink version. Every kid who bought Lego in the 1990s bought a bucket full of mixed colors. The ads looked like normal kids in their play-clothes - I'm sure you've seen them, because there's been a lot of talk about how the girl in them is dressed "like a boy." No, she's just dressed like a kid.
I looked today for that image and found something actually really amazing. My jaded heart thought that I would see ads from 2023 that had girls playing with the "girl" Lego only when I looked for recent content. Wow, was I wrong.
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Lego took the original 1980's ad (bottom center) and used it to create the new ads for International Women's Day this year.
It's not as hard as it looks. We can have gender neutral toys that are still fun for all kids. Toys can just be toys. And if that appeals to you, there's a fantastic group in the UK begging toymakers and book publishers to do just that: Let toys be toys.
This was a whole mess of a ride, and I'm grateful if you got all the way through. It's important for me to know that in some way we've grown beyond gendered novelty, and that we'll continue to grow beyond gendered toys.
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kairiscorner · 9 months
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this shit got me giggling like TEEHEE
(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)
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dating model au miguel o'hara (as an ordinary person)
honestly, miguel folds when you praise or compliment him. he wouldn't believe him if you told him at first how handsome he was when you two met, and he still doesn't, even if he's a sought-after model that's known the world over.
"y'know, i'm just okay, right? the real pretty one here is... none other than you."
LIKE SERIOUSLY, he was just sought out one day and suddenly, he'd on the cover of all kinds of magazines and posters. he doesn't exactly let that get to his head, though--it's just, in his opinion, a job. coming home to you and treating you the way he knows you should be treated is all that really matters to him.
he didn't mind posing with other people before on camera in intimate ways, but it became harder for him when he met you, because all he could think about when he's holding another person so romantically or intimately is, "i bet holding them would feel like heaven, this is... this is nothing compared to how it'd feel like to hold them."
he's gotten so used to forwarding calls to his agents that he's made it his daily habit to send a bunch of calls his agents' ways. but when you called him for the first time, when he heard your voice and realized this was no representative from a fashion agency or advertising company or wherever else they needed him to pose for--it was just you, that was the very first time in a long while that he had a real conversation with someone who cared about him for him.
that was when he fell in love with you, and kept falling for you when he realized you didn't give a damn whether he was a model or not. he really didn't get how a guy like him was so lucky to have someone like you, so beautiful, so kind, so patient, so gentle, and capable--and here you were overthinking whether he loved you or not, of course he does!
he constantly forces his agents to clear out his schedules for certain hours so he can meet up with you on your commute home and have dinner with you, maybe even catch a movie with you, go shopping, or just... cuddle, sit together in the silence, and just love you without any cameras or flashing lights involved :>
you make him feel so normal, so real, so actually alive, reminding him he has a life outside of the lives many others expect him to live as a high-class and in-demand model. he loves coming home to you at the end of a photoshoot, whether you're asleep or awake waiting for him, and just being close to you, admiring how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have you, despite how chaotic his schedule is compared to yours. he might as well just quit to be your model forever <3
tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck
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0fth34byss · 3 months
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Sex Isn't Love | Part 1
Noah Sebastian x female reader
Minors, please DNI
🔞⚠️: mentions of alcohol consumption, references to casual sex
694 words
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You lay sprawled on his bed, waiting for him to fetch a washcloth. He didn't know it yet, but this was the last time you planned on seeing Noah in person. It was inevitable that you'd see him online - his face was plastered all over your social media ‘For You’ pages - but if you could avoid being in close proximity to him again, you would.
It had started out as a meaningless fling, after being introduced by a mutual contact following one of his band's shows. The chemistry and sexual tension was palpable from the moment you shook hands. A one-night stand became a weekly arrangement, then the fling soon rolled into a seven month situationship, something you neither wanted or expected. Now the one thing you all but prayed wouldn't happen had happened, and you needed to get out before you got hurt.
It was ridiculous really. A guy like Noah, who was touring the world one week and on the cover of a magazine the next, was only ever going to see a woman like you as a play thing until someone more worthy of his attention came along. If you allowed yourself to fall any further, you'd become delusional in thinking he could feel the same way. What would the ‘rock star’ Noah Sebastian see in a junior account executive at a mediocre events company?
Noah handed you the washcloth, almost absentmindedly.
“Thanks.”
“Do you want to order takeout or something?” he asked, not looking up from his phone screen.
“Actually, Noah, I'm gonna go,” you informed him as you freshened yourself up.
Noah said nothing as you got up and began to get dressed. He still hadn't looked up from his phone which only confirmed you were making the right decision.
“You sure? This new Greek place downtown looks good. They have gyros - that's one of your favourites, right?”
You swallowed hard, hating that he actually bothered to remember something about you. It made you second-guess your thoughts on the last several months.
Eventually you were able to choke out, “I'm sure. Look, I think we should call it a day on whatever this is.”
“What do you mean?” Noah responded, finally looking up from his phone.
“Don't play dumb, Noah. It's run its course. Plus, I’m ready to be in a relationship again, and not just be someone's hook-up when they have nothing else to do.”
Noah looked taken aback… and heartbroken. You assumed it was because he wasn't used to being rejected. You concentrated on gathering your belongings and getting out of there rather than his reaction.
You made your way to the bedroom door but Noah blocked you, his hands on your shoulders.
“Noah -”
“If you want to leave, I'll respect that, but you need to understand that you've never been just a hook-up to me.”
“Noah, don't -”
“I care about you. I really do.”
“Goodbye, Noah,” you said, pushing past him and doing everything in your power to not break out into a run as you left his house.
You threw yourself into work to distract yourself from all thoughts of Noah. You'd even driven to and from work without the radio on for the last few days after a station started playing a Bad Omens song. You weren't going to allow yourself to be held back by a situationship any longer.
As you made your way to your car at the end of the day, you started redownloading the dating apps you hadn't even considered looking at for months. Your plan for the evening was to make dinner, then pour a large glass of wine and update your profiles. It was official, you were back on the market you never should have taken yourself off.
The traffic was lighter than usual on the way home, and you managed to park in your favourite spot in the apartment building's parking lot. You smiled at the serendipity of it all as you slumped up the steps to your studio apartment.
Suddenly, you were stopped dead in your tracks when you rounded the corner and saw the 6’3”, tattooed figure of Noah Sebastian leaning against your front door.
Part 2
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buckychristwrites · 10 months
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Could This Be | Chap. Nine | j.t.
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Pairing: Jamie Tartt x F!Reader
Summary: One minute, you're single and working for AFC Richmond as the team's medic. The next minute, you're in a fake relationship with the team's handsome striker who you know next to nothing about.
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: Discussions of Previous Emotional & Physical Domestic Violence. Cussing. Fake Dating
A/N: :)
Masterlist | Could This Be Masterlist | Main Blog
What’s the famous saying? That in a room full of people, you could still feel your loneliest?
That’s how you felt in the hospital waiting room, surrounded by the entire AFC Richmond team and coaching staff.
The telly was playing Friends reruns, which was fine for the first little bit. But after three hours, you were ready to throw something through the screen. Besides that, the tiny waiting room with white walls and filled to the brim with people was mostly quiet. The melancholy in the air choked out any sort of conversation as everyone sat around, on their phones or staring at the floor, just waiting.
Jamie’s mum had shown up at some point amongst the chaos. She didn’t look how you expected her to, but then again, you hadn’t really put a lot of thought into how his mum would look. It was clear where Jamie got his personality. She was friendly, giving a hug to everyone in the room, except you, but only because you had strategically stepped behind Roy at just the right moment so that she wouldn’t see you. She had spent most of the time in the room with Jamie, while his stepfather, Simon, hung out with the rest of the lot. 
Whenever Georgie came out to give updates, or to just take a break, you’d find yourself trying to hide from her. Pressing your back in the corner and hoping you wouldn’t be noticed. Fleeing to the toilets. Keeping a magazine in front of your face. It wasn’t immediately clear to you why meeting her would be such a bad thing. Maybe it was because you found yourself to somehow be at fault for Jamie’s accident.
Maybe he would’ve seen the other player had he not been distracted by the conversation prior to the match.
Maybe he wouldn’t have been hurt so bad if you had given him more time to heal before clearing him to play. 
Maybe he shouldn’t have been on the pitch at all. 
“Hey,” Keeley’s gentle voice brought you out of your thoughts. When you looked up, she was taking a seat next to you. “We’re all gonna head to the canteen and grab a bite to eat. Do you want to come? Or do you want me to grab something for you?” Stretching from the long hours of sitting, you shook your head.
“I’m not really hungry,” You admitted. She cocked her head to the side.
“When was the last time you ate?” 
Squinting your eyes, you tried to remember. The clock on the wall informed you it was just after midnight, and from what you could recall, you hadn’t even eaten breakfast that morning before the match. 
“Around lunch yesterday, I think.” 
Keeley frowned. “Maybe you should go home for a bit. Have a shower, get some sleep.” You were shaking your head long before she finished her words.
“I’ll stay.”
She stared at you for a long time, as you let your eyes drop down to the floor. The wheels were turning in her head to say something of comfort to you, but nothing must’ve come, for she gave your shoulder a loving squeeze before turning and walking out of the now empty waiting room. Even though you hadn’t really said much since your arrival, you wished that someone would have stayed behind to keep you company. 
You laid your head against the wall.
Inhale.
Exhale.
From what you knew, he was doing surprisingly well, all things considering. He had a pretty severe concussion, as far as they could tell, but they couldn’t figure out why he had stopped breathing, which was why he was being kept for observation. They suspected that it was just from the swelling, but it was hard to say. The doctor minced no words when he told Georgie that he more than likely wouldn’t be able to play for the next month. He really hadn’t been awake much, mostly resting due to the extensive injury as well as the intense pain medication regimen they had him on.
Yawning, you looked out the window. The hospital towered over London, the city looking beautiful with the evening lights on. You stared down at the cars and the people, all of them looking as small as ants, as you wondered if they felt as small and insignificant as you did.
“Just us, then?”
You jumped, turning to find Georgie at the doorway, smiling at you. Squeezing your arms around your torso, you gave her a half baked smile.
“Everyone went to grab something to eat,” You told her. Tapping the frame with her hand, she entered. As she got closer to you, your heart picked up in pace. 
“You must be the infamous girlfriend I’ve been hearin’ all about,” She said in a gentle voice as she sat down next to you. Her accent was just like Jamie’s, which was weird to you for no particular reason other than you weren’t used to hearing it off anyone else. “It’s lovely to finally meet ya.” 
“I’m sorry you heard about me through the papers,” You said, finally meeting her eye. The furrow in your brow suggested you said something wrong.
“The papers?” She asked, leaning back as she laughed. “Love, Jamie talks about ya all the time!” Heat rose in your cheeks at the idea of Jamie talking to his mom about you. She shook her head, still smiling. “He calls a couple times a week. Not once have we spoken where ya weren’t mentioned. I feel like I know ya already, and we only just met!” 
Your arms loosened as you sat up straighter. “I’m sorry we didn’t meet under better circumstances then.” Her smile faltered ever so slightly.
“Ahh, he’ll be okay.” She sniffed, looking down at her hands, which were folded in her lap. “He’s strong.” She looked back at you, nudging you with her elbow. “I also saw you takin’ care of him on that field. He’s lucky you were there.” 
You said nothing, instead just giving her a smile before looking down at the floor. You didn’t feel like anyone should be lucky that you were there. 
“D’ya know what? Why don’t you go see him?” She asked. Your eyes snapped back up.
“Oh, that’s okay,” You said while trying not to sound so tense. “You can-“
“Nonsense!” She urged, waving you towards the door. “He’s just been sleepin’. Just keep him company. Give me a bit of a break.” Her smile was so loving, so encouraging. It was enough to get you off the chair and walking blankly out of the room. 
The hallways made you miss the peace and quiet of the waiting room. Staff were rushing and running up and down the hallways. The sound of beeping coming out of every doorway. In the distance, a phone was ringing repeatedly without being answered. Why wasn’t anyone answering it? 
His room appeared to your right. Staring into the cracked open door, you could see the end of his occupied bed, the blankets having a lump shaped as feet underneath it. It was a single room, which was damn near impossible to get in any hospital these days, but you were sure Jamie Tartt was being given the VIP treatment. The door didn’t creek when you let yourself in. Cold air was rushing out of the air conditioning unit, forcing you to hug your arms around your torso again. When you were far enough into the room to see the entirety of the room, you froze.
Jamie looked better than you had imagined him to. Being a medical provider yourself, it was easy to let your mind spiral to the worst case scenario. In your head, you pictured severe bandaging and tubes down his throat (despite no one ever having mentioned him being ventilated). But here he was, looking like he was just peacefully resting. No bandages at all. No tubes to be seen. Just an IV in his arm with fluids running down, attached to a pump that was providing him with medication for pain. 
A chair was staged next to his bed. It was clear Georgie had put it there, considering the armrest of it was touching the bed rail. 
You slowly sunk down into the chair, letting your back fall into the seat as your eyes never left Jamie. His hand was close to the edge of the bed, suggesting his mum had been holding it. Should you? You wanted to. Would he want you to, though? 
The heart monitor beeped at a low volume along with the beat of his heart. You watched the vitals machine, letting the information mull inside your head. They were pretty perfect for a guy who had just, hours before, needed someone to breathe for him. You could still see it when you closed your eyes. The image of Jamie with the mask on, his skin a grey colour, his chest rising and falling in a way that didn’t look real. It was burned into your brain like it had been branded there by fire. 
You had never believed for a second that he would die. But as someone who had seen tamer injuries take an awful turn, the thought was always there. What if? What if the last feeling he had felt was anger towards you? It made you sick to consider.
The ruffling of the pillow was what let you know he was waking up. Your eyes found him just in time to watch his flutter open. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, as if he was trying to figure out where he was. He looked to his left first, gazing out the dark windows, before turning his head again and finding you.
His face relaxed.
“There she is,” He said through slurred words. “My favourite fake girlfriend.” He smiled goofily up at the ceiling. Then, he eyed you again. “Are you still my fake girlfriend?” You bit your lip.
“Yes, Jamie,” You said. “Although, you shouldn’t call me that right now. Your mum is here.” He blew a raspberry. 
“Fine. My very real girlfriend, then.” 
“How are you feeling?” You asked him. He shrugged lackadaisically.
“Weird,” He said. “Me head feels foggy.” You nodded.
“That tends to happen when you get kicked at full force in the head.” 
He snickered. “Goofy girl.” He looked around again before looking back at you. “D’ya know, I dreamt about ya when I was knocked out.” 
You felt like you had just gotten kicked in the chest by a donkey. “What?”
“You were tellin’ me I was gonna be fine,” He explained. “I was in a room by meself, but I could hear ya. Looked everywhere for ya.” He shook his head. “But you’re really good at hidin’.” The smile slowly fell from his face. “I was so scared when I couldn’t find ya.” 
Tears fell from your eyes as you slipped your hand into his. He fit his fingers between yours, as if it was second nature for him to do so. 
“I’m just so glad you’re okay,” You sighed. When he noticed you were crying, he shook his head lightly.
“Nooooo, don’t do that,” He said, pulling at your hand to bring you out of your seat. “Com’ere.” You stole a glance at the door before plopping into the bed, curling carefully into Jamie’s side. You were on your side, head on the shoulder of his arm that was wrapped around you. 
“I’m sorry,” You said as he pressed his nose into your forehead. “For the chat we had in the car.” He shook his head. 
“I was the one bein’ a prick,” He said. “I shouldnt’ve yelled at ya. I just…” He paused, turning his head upwards again to stare at the ceiling. You placed a hesitant hand on his chest, which he immediately took with his free hand, thumb stroking the top of yours. “I think… maybe I just got used to this. It’ll hurt when it’s done. Like an actual breakup, d’ya know what I mean?”
“I do.” 
He looked down at you again. You could see the hesitation behind what he wanted to say next. After a moment, he sighed. “Think I fell in love with ya a little bit, if I’m honest.” 
Your jaw tensed as the butterflies in your stomach began to flutter. 
“Breaking your own rule,” You remarked playfully, but he shook his head.
“No, the rule was that you-“ He pointed at you, his hand still holding yours. “-couldn’t fall in love with me.” He pointed at himself before letting his hand drop again. “Never said nothin’ ‘bout what I do.”
“Clearly you should’ve.”
He huffed. “Obviously.” 
You sat quietly for a long time, debating. Contemplating. It was all so tempting. To just lay it all out there. To tell him the truth. But the fear was so vivid. So loud. Telling you that it wouldn’t last forever. That eventually he’d get tired of you, just like they always did. 
“I just don’t think I’m ready,” You finally admitted before burying your face a little further into his shoulder.
“For what?” He asked, shifting slightly. Looking back at him, you stared into his wide ocean blues as they waited so patiently for your answer.
“For you to love me.” 
He sat with that for a moment, his thumb stroking your shoulder. You were surprised with how calm you felt in the moment. Now that the words were out there, you felt relieved. Like a weight had just fallen off your shoulders. 
“Who said I’m ready to love you, hmm?” He asked, taking away the serious tone of the conversation. The corners of your mouth flicked upwards.
“You did,” You said. “You just said-“
“I said a little bit, thank ya,” He corrected you. 
“Oh gosh,” You said, feigning remorse. “I’m so sorry for my error.”
“Ya should be. Twistin’ my words.” 
The two of you laid in silence for a little while. Every inhale welcomed his scent into your lungs. It was calming to be in his arms like this. The only thing stopping this from being perfect was the sound of the heart monitor, which had increased in speed ever since you had joined him in the bed.
“So I’ll let you know when I’m ready,” He said softly. “Unless you’re ready before me, then you let me know first, deal?”
You heard the meaning behind his words.
When you’re ready for this to be real, let me know.
Blinking away the tears that threatened to fall, you moved your hand to his opposite shoulder, giving him a squeeze.
“Deal.”
~
TAGS
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akookminsupporter · 4 months
Text
I know I've said this before, but you know what annoys me about the documentary? It doesn't provide new insights into the guys' careers. Yes, we get more of their opinions now, but it's not much different from what they've said in lives, concerts, posts, etc.
We've already discussed how disappointing it was that they didn't focus more on the early years of the band. However, I thought there would be a bit more about everything that happened during COVID. The fact that they not only had a huge tour planned but also planned to enlist after that. It's a shame they didn't address a bit more of their feelings and how they reacted to it all, especially since they kept working during those two years. Even though there are DVDs of those moments, like the online concert, they never really delved into what it meant to them as artists.
Something else that I think they should have included, and that would have been interesting to see, is how the agency planned everything. How they looked for a way to make many of the things that the group could do in 2020 and 2021, in particular, possible. Obviously, not everything in detail, but some of it.
Now the documentary is about to end, and I feel like I haven't learned anything new about them. Nothing we didn't already know, at least. The documentary looks like it was made by a fan who could only cut and paste clips, commentary, and parts of the original content together to make a video out of it all. HYBE and Disney+ missed a valuable opportunity to show something more… real. Raw.
The documentary also reminded me why I don't usually like interviews with the guys in magazines or publications. Not just because the interviewers ask superficial or repetitive questions, but because they are very guarded in what they say. Sometimes too much. That's why I really appreciated the interview Namjoon gave for a Spanish newspaper. Although I must admit that their interviews with Weverse Magazine are usually good as well.
The documentary is not bad, although my complaints might say otherwise; I just expected more, especially after reading the book. I really enjoyed hearing the guys' opinions on a lot of things, and that they themselves told us how they were feeling at X moment and so on. Something I also found interesting is how, especially in the last two episodes, they talked with a lot of uncertainty about their future as a group. I'd love to see them really talk about why they decided to renew their contracts as a group at the end, particularly. Because that uncertainty about their future as a group went on for a while, especially for some of the members. And that uncertainty ended, I think, in September? At least, that's when I noticed it.
Having said all that, in the last few days, I have particularly remembered that their culture is different, not only the culture of their country but also the culture of the industry they mainly belong to or grew up in. And that, although BTS, in many ways, disassociated themselves from it, at their core, they are still part of it. They and their agency/company. And I guess that's something that won't change.
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pawnshopbleus · 4 months
Note
I feel like Abby is a gym rat who loves weights and strength and training. But the reader is a pilates yoga zumba princess who just likes being skinny. Opposites attract, I guess. Abby teaches her more about wanting to be strong, and readers interested is piqued because she never thought outside of what is normally expected of women when it comes to body image.
This, but without the skinny part so that everyone can relate!
Body image has always been a struggle for you. From the moment you were born, images of what a woman should look like were thrown at you. The same genre of women were on magazine covers, television, and movie screens. It overwhelmed you. Every corner you turned, all you could see were those women. You looked nothing like them.
And then you met Abby. She was everything those women weren't. Tall, strong, and buff. And you loved her.
She invites you to come work out with her. Not because she thinks you need it, but because she craves your company.
Abby starts off on the treadmill and you join her. She only does about ten minutes as a warm-up while you continue running. Sweat is already running down your forehead and you're panting non-stop. You're so out of shape that it's embarrassing. You look over at the girl next to you, she's been running at a faster pace and she still looks put together. A sense of dread polls in your stomach as you take in the girl's appearance. She's small and toned, just like the girls in the magazines.
"Are you okay?" Abby asks, worry evident in her tone.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you pant, "I'm just going to stay here for a bit longer."
"I'm going over to the weight station if you need me. Don't overexert yourself, okay?"
You nod as Abby walks away. You jab the speed button, making the treadmill go a bit faster. You're running, running, running, and then, you trip, falling flat on your face and getting thrown off the treadmill.
The entire gym is silent and Abby is by your side in less than ten seconds. You're fine. Just a few scratches and a busted lip, but nothing too serious.
In the car, Abby is staring straight ahead. The keys are in the ignition, but the car is still in park. Abby's hands are gripping the steering wheel.
"I told you not to overexert yourself and now you're hurt. Why did you do it?"
"Because," you mumble.
"What?"
"Because I want to look better. For you, for me, for everyone else. I just-I don't like the way I look!" You shout so loud that you're surprised that the car windows don't break.
"What?" Abby was gobsmacked. She thought you looked perfect, but your looks weren't the only thing you had going on. You were also incredibly smart and talented. "You really think I'm that shallow? That I would be with someone for the way they look? You are the love of my life and I wouldn't trade you for the world. You are incredibly smart, beautiful, and insanely talented. And I love you."
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Love yourself! You are so incredibly sexy, smart, and talented, and you have great taste. 💋
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l1tw1ck · 1 year
Text
Casting: Cyno
Welcoming your new star, Cyno
Bottom!FTM Cyno x Top!Masc Reader
{Request} [Series] | AFAB Language Used
CW: Recording, Porn Casting, Masturbating, Oral, Nipple Play, Rough Sex, Belly Bulge, Praise, Daddy Kink, Choking, Crying
📝 1,642 Words
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──────────────────
"Excuse me, can I talk to you for a moment?" You call out to the beautiful silver haired male. He was working out at the gym and his amazing body caught your eye.
"Sure." Cyno turns to you, sweat dripping down his forehead. He's shirtless and only wearing shorts, his nipple piercings caught your attention.
"Do you have any interest in modeling? You're gorgeous and I wouldn't be able to leave here without asking."
"Thanks." Cyno cheeks heat up, he can't tell if you're into him or not. He kinda hopes it's the former. "I'm not sure though.." He scratches his neck.
"40,000 mora an hour, consider it." You hand him your business card. "If you change your mind, email me your measurements and shoe size. We can figure out a time from there."
Cyno nods and looks down at the card. He doesn't have much reason to model, his job already pays a lot but it might be fun. And it might give him a chance with you.
He decides to do some research once he gets home, you're a pretty well known company but what he wasn't expecting was to see exactly what kind of company you have.
While it's true that you do modeling, you also host camboys, pornstars, and porn magazine models.
Curiously, he clicks on one of the videos on your website. It's a regular porn video with you and a dark haired man wearing lingerie.
He finds his hand sneaking underneath his shorts to finger himself halfway through the video, he can't help but wish he was the guy in the video.
If he comes by will you fuck him like that too? Make him call you daddy and treat him like nothing more than a doll? He moans, coming at the thought.
He has an email to send now.
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"Cyno! I'm glad you came!" You grin, waving at him as he enters the room. "The dressing room is over there, the makeup team will help you after you get dressed."
Cyno nods and enters the room. He takes the clothes and puts them on, leaving out one of the pieces.
Around 10 minutes later, he comes back, his appearance making a tent in your pants.
"You didn't wear the black undershirt?"
He's wearing a sheer crop top that's anything but opaque along with a dark miniskirt, a thong, fishnets, and boots that made him a few inches taller. Along with matching makeup, you hope you can fuck him and ruin his mascara by the end of the day.
"I like it better without it." He says.
You smirk. "Me too." You walk up to him and pull up the strings of his thong, making him moan. "You wear it like this." You wink.
Cyno breathes heavily. "What now..?"
"We'll start the shoot."
Your team quickly gets him into multiple positions, he was willing to do sexual poses so you and everyone else had a lot of fun with him. He wasn't worried about losing his job since he knows coworkers who are or have been in the industry. The job seems to pay well enough that he even if he does, he'll be fine.
There were a lot of photos taken from below, his thong was thankfully dark enough to hide how wet he was.
After the shoot, Cyno had been offered to keep the outfit since it looks so good on him. He accepted it quickly, hoping you'll fuck him in it next.
You brought him to your office to write him the check and discuss further opportunities.
"From the way you acted during the photo shoot, I'm assuming you know what kind of company this is?" You sit at your desk, pulling out your checkbook.
Cyno nods. "Yes."
"Then, is there anything other than modeling that you're interested in doing for the company?" You ask, writing a check for 160,000 Mora.
"What would allow me to work with you?" He asks, not dancing around the question at all.
You smirk. "You mean, like having sex with me?"
Cyno nods.
"Well, you could become a pornstar. I doubt you'd want to work with anyone else so you can come every once in a while to shoot a video with me." You smile and hand him the check. "For today, if you'd like, we can shoot the casting video together."
Cyno nods eagerly.
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Cyno sits down on the couch adjacent to yours, ignoring the camera and looking at you.
"Tell us about yourself."
"My name is Cyno. I'm 23 years old. I'm from Sumeru and I like working out and playing card games."
"Are you on the pill? Condom or no condom?"
"Yes, no condom. You can come inside."
"Noted." You wink. "Do you have any kinks or preferences?" You tilt your head, clear interest on your face.
"I like being treated roughly and getting praised, I like being degraded too. I would let you do anything you want to me honestly.." He looks to the side. "And, I like it big."
You grin. "What about your sex life? Anything you're comfortable sharing?"
"I haven't had the time for it. I've done it a few times in my school years but that's it."
"So we'll have to make sure you're ready to take me." You smile. "Could you spread your legs?"
Cyno immediately does as he's asked.
"Move the thong to the side, show us your pretty pussy." You watch as Cyno moves the fabric aside. "Goodness, you're already so wet. You must be excited. Finger yourself."
Cyno slips a finger inside then another. "I touched myself like this last night...when I watched one of your videos."
"Yeah? Which one?"
"The one with...Venti. Where he was calling you daddy." He answers, thrusting his fingers in and out rapidly. "I liked the things you called him...I wanted you to call me that too."
You stand up, a smaller camera in hand, and walk over to Cyno. You hold his face gently and bring his head upwards while pointing the camera at him. "You're adorable."
His cheeks warm up and his eyes shut close as he orgasms. You move the camera down to his cunt, silently asking him to move his fingers out of the way so the camera could see his cum dripping out of his pulsing hole.
Cyno stares at your boner, practically drooling. You move the camera back up to his face. "Go ahead, take it out."
He quickly unbuckles your belt and pulls your pants down, wasting no time with getting your cock out. He licks the tip of your cock experimentally before wrapping his lips around it and sucking slowly.
You move his hair out of the way. "You look so pretty sucking my cock." You groan. "Doing so well for me."
Cyno's cheeks are burning at this point, an impossible to ignore sensation in his stomach and a throbbing feeling in his cunt.
You notice him rubbing his thighs together and you pull them apart, playing with his little t-dick to give him the pleasure he was chasing.
Cyno shuts his eyes, moaning along your length as he sucks it diligently.
You pull him away gently. "How about we take this to the bed?"
Cyno nods, following you to the large king sized bed. He takes his boots off and sits on the bed, looking at you in anticipation.
"Aren't you a pretty little slut." Your hand wanders along his body lightly, making him shiver. "Ready?"
He nods, watching you tower over him and letting you spread his legs. You spank his pussy, earning a twitch and moan from Cyno.
You push his skirt up and direct the small camera to his sex, slapping your dick on it before finally entering.
"Yes-" Cyno whispers, biting his lip as you fill him up, his stomach bulging from your cock. You hand the camera to your assistant and push his top up, bunching it up around his collarbone, and lick one of his sensitive nipples. You roll your tongue around the pierced bud, the sensations almost enough to make Cyno come just from that.
You pull away from his warm chest and wrap your hand around his neck, your other hand giving his other nipple the attention it deserves. You look for any signs of discomfort before fucking into him roughly.
Cyno moans like a whore, grinning with his hands wrapped tightly on your wrist so you don't pull away. "Yes~!"
It doesn't take long for tears to form in his eyes, threatening to ruin his mascara and eyeliner.
"Your pussy feels so fucking good, princess-" You groan. Cyno heats up from his head to his neck, cunt tightening around your cock from hearing one of the words he's dreamed about you calling him. "Yeah, squeeze my cock baby, just like that."
Cyno rolls his eyes back, blabbering as he squirts. "Daddy~!" He manages to say before you fuck him into an almost brainless state, tears of pleasure rapidly falling down his cheeks.
"That's a good boy, making Daddy feel good with your slutty little pussy." You grin. "Gonna make me come so fast, princess."
Cyno has a goofy smile on his face as you use his body to reach your own release, whispering 'yes', 'more', and 'daddy' over and over.
Your thrusts lessen but keep their roughness as you get close, eventually coming to a complete stop as you fill Cyno up with your spend.
You take a moment to catch your breath, taking that time to admire the makeup running down his cheeks.
You let go of his neck and take your camera from your assistant, pulling out to record your cum dripping out of him.
"That's a wrap." You call out. "Would you like me to help you get cleaned up, doll?"
Cyno nods gently.
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cookiesupplier · 6 months
Text
Hell Ain't So Bad - Part Three
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pairing: Noah Sebastian x ofc (Ellie) 
warnings/tropes: slow burn, smut (eventually), angst, fluff, mentions of death, mentions of torture, thoughts of religious ideology, and swearing.
summary: Ellie is lost in the world. When the perfect opportunity falls into her lap, she doesn’t want to pass it up.. Turns out though, it might be a little bit stranger than she ever expected. Who would have thought that one day, she’d end up working in hell itself.. And what does this even mean?
author’s note: Unbetaed, readers beware.. my messages and asks are always open.
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tags: @spicywhenspeaking Tags are opens for those interested.
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Sleeping in the empty room of the agency offices was weird, mostly because she would have assumed that so many people would come in and out of a place like this, that why would they have such an empty room. Ellie had never been to an agency that had seemed so quiet like this before, and she wasn’t just talking at the damn crack of dawn when she was startled awake. 
It took her a moment to realise why she woke up before she was uncurling her body from the lounge chair in the room that Steven had left her in last night along with some leftover sandwiches for dinner.
She wandered out to the foyer to find another man entirely, and he had a bright grin on his face,
“Oh, hello! You must be Ellie, the new recruit, sorry if I woke you, I’m a bit early but thought you could use something for breakfast before we head out.”
So he was here for her. That got her attention. Rubbing her eyes, she took a better look at him, he was clearly a bundle of energy, already almost bounding on the balls of his feet this early in the morning, a tray of coffees in one hand and a paper bag in the other,
“Come, let's eat.”
Shrugging one of his shoulders towards the chaired area for them to sit down.. She glanced back to the room she’d come from, before moving to follow him. It was just a small space. A couple chairs, a small table with a magazine that looked to be half falling apart. He set the tray and bag on the table over the magazine and took a couple of wraps out of the bag for them.
“Breakfast wraps, hope you don’t mind, how’d you sleep by the way? Those chairs can be a bit lumpy from what I remember.”
This guy was all smiles and such a bundle of energy.
“Oh-”
As she adjusted in the chair in the waiting area, this was actually more uncomfortable to her, and he asked her how she slept, Ellie realized then, that, well, she had slept, all night, she hadn’t woken up once, not to cough, not to wheeze, nothing. It had been a dream. Her chest didn’t feel heavy at all, that tea had done wonders. She really needed to ask Nicholas about that remedy of his mother’s. Would he really give her more?
Now though, she reached for her wrap, her stomach grumbling, it had been a long time since she’d gotten regular meals, if she wasn’t careful, her body would get used to it again.
“I ah, I slept fine, um…”
“Shit- I’m Folio.. Well, Nick, but considering you just met Nicholas, everyone just calls me Folio, less confusing.”
Nodding as he quickly took a bite of his own wrap and Ellie smiled, thankful for the explanation, not that she expected to see much more of Nicholas- wasn’t like the agency was the company she’d been hired for, right? However, if he wanted to be called Folio, then who was she to argue with him. 
Biting into her breakfast wrap, fuck, she forgot how good real food could be. Th sandwiches were great and all, but this, however, bacon and eggs, was greasy goodness wrapped in a tortilla and, the way her stomach twisted a little, it had been so long without a full decent mean, she wondered if she wasn’t going to pay painfully for how well she was being fed.
At that thought, she also wondered if this food was going to come at a cost. Her eyes darted to the man who was munching happily on his own food without a care in the world, another voice cutting in, and it was Nicholas, just whom she’d been thinking she wouldn’t see again, coming out of nowhere, from the offices in the building.
“Don’t worry, he doesn’t want anything for it.”
It was almost as if he could tell what she was thinking, like it was written all over her face. What was he, a mind reader?
“Not a mind reader, just met more than a few people in your position, it’s alright.”
Sure.. not a mind reader, he just answers the question without being asked, that was really convincing Mr Ruffilo.
The answering amused chuckle didn’t help convince her one little bit when she took another bite of her breakfast burrito as she watched him walk across the foyer towards where they were seated and reach into the paper bag and pulled out another wrap along with lifting one of the coffees from the tray.
When he turned to go, he just just smiled softly to her,
“Good luck settling in Ellie, I’m sure Folio will get you there safe and sound. I’ll see you around.”
With a wink he disappeared back into the hall that led back to his office. That was.. curious.
Reaching for her own coffee, she was pulled from her thoughts about what was up with that man by Folio beside her,
“Maddening isn’t he? Anyway, he’s right, we’re good, technically I used his card to pay for it anyway-”
"I heard that!”
Ellie couldn’t barely manage not to choke on a mouthful of coffee at the frustrated shout that sounded from the offices when she tried not to laugh. Folio, however, did nothing short of roaring with laughter including the brightest grin on his face when he grabbed the tray from the table and what was left of the bag of their breakfast,
“Come on, let's blow this joint before he comes out and breathing fire and brimstone to scalp me.”
Not that he looked remotely worried about it at all despite his words, still, he ushered her out of the building towards the car they were taking on the way. It was fancy, not that she could tell you anything about the make, but definitely nothing she could ever afford in her life.. Then again, when had she been able to afford a car of any kind, ever. It looked all fancy, like when a rich person hires a driver to take them everywhere.
Was she supposed to sit in the back? Glancing between the doors as she shoved the last of her wrap into her mouth, not wanting to get any food anywhere inside a car like this, Folio was reaching for the drivers door though and scoffed before she looked to the back,
“Don’t you dare, Ellie, I need someone to talk to, I’ll go out of my mind sitting up the front alone.”
When she looked to him strangely, he set the coffee and food in side the car and rushed around the car, only as fast as his ball of energy hyped up on caffeine could, opening the other front door for her.
“Come onnnn, I know drivers usually kick peeps to the back, but come on, where’s the fun in that?”
Raising an eyebrow at him as she looked to him curious, he certainly was very hyper.
“How many coffees have you had this morning?”
Snorting, grinning at her cheekily as he answered.
“Just the one.”
Could have fooled her, who was this vibrant this early?
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Ellie was convinced, Folio might just be able to talk underwater. They talked about everything on the drive, from music, to movies, to hobbies. His voice was actually soothing, soft spoken, but he had this energy about him, like a puppy that never stopped. Full of raw energy.
After they stopped for lunch at a diner, she couldn’t quite remember for the life of her where, Folio was doing a fantastic job of keeping her distracted of where they were on the road as they drove for hours, she found herself drifting off. It was just a bit of a nap. She swore it.
She closed her eyes. That was all.
Next thing she knew, she was jolting awake, and they were no longer driving, Folio was knocking on the window before opening her door.
“Come on, sleepy head, we’re here!”
It took her a moment, Ellie blinking herself awake, not surprising with how little sleep she’d been getting with how long she’d been sleeping on the streets, and even longer, jumping from place to place, stressing out trying to make ends meet before everything finally fell completely apart.
Somehow, that all ended today. At least for now, while she worked for this company. It was funny, she didn’t even know their name yet, or where she was
“Hey, Folio, where are we anyway?”
“Oh, oh, you mean Nicholas didn’t tell you?”
There was something about his amused little chuckle then, like he knew something she didn’t,
“Ellie, WELCOME TO HELL!”
What. The. Fuck.
Looking from Folio to the large cast iron gates that he was walking towards. The gates that seemed to be, wait…
She glanced around… the only way…
The space the car was parked in looked like a car park, for exactly one space, and stepping away from it, the further she walked, the car seemed to vanish, like now that it wasn’t needed, it was just, gone
What was happening?
Glancing back to the gate, with Folio standing in front of them, his bright grin on his face as he looked to her, waiting, waving her over,
“Cool huh? Come on, I’m sure your apartment is all ready for you and everything!”
As she walked towards the gates, glancing back towards the car once more, the car, the road behind them, all of it was almost completely gone..
Spinning around to stare at Folio, what the he- Shit. Shit shit shit.
Her steps quickened as she approached the gate, the cast irons bars opened on their own as they approached, creaking, as if they were old, ancient, it was creepy, menacing, and fuck, that was just-
Her thoughts disturbed by Folio chuckling again… she looked over at him before he waved towards the gate.
“Sorry sorry.”
Soon as he waved, the gate stopped making the noise and was perfectly silent and normal as it closed, the world beyond the gate looking normal once more, though, completely non-descript, like a long highway to nowhere.
“Where are we Folio, really?”
“I told you, we’re in Hell, let’s go.”
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Ellie was in a state of shock, she had to be, what else could she be? Folio was still chattering away about the look on her face when he walked her up to an apartment building with yet another heavily tattooed man waiting for her out front.
Not that she was complaining, they were hot. It was almost a disappointment she probably wasn’t going to see Nicholas again. Despite what he’d said to her that morning… Would she see him again? The way Folio spoke of him too, they seemed to be well acquainted, it was interesting.
A lot of this didn’t entirely add up.
Maybe it would start making sense soon.
She’d consider asking Folio, but after the tricks at the gate, and the HELL stuff, she wasn’t sure he’d be straight with her.
Maybe this guy would be.
Now. Ellie didn’t know what expression was on her face when they approached him but he took one look at her and immediately an exasperated sigh escaped him as he glanced to the other man,
“Really, Folio? You break the new recruit on her first day?! She hasn’t even moved in you Rövhatt.”
Shaking his head, he glanced at her, Ellie looking at him, trying to get a feel for him, while like Nicholas he had long hair, his was flowing down around his shoulder instead of being tied back, and he had a bit of an accent to his words, she wasn’t quite sure she could place it yet.
“You alright, Sweetheart? He didn’t scare you, did he? I know he’s a bit of a handful sometimes, but he’s a puppy dog, really, doesn’t bite a lick.”
Levelling a half-hearted glare at Folio with a smirk,
“Shoo!”
And with that, the shorter man laughed, nudging Ellie slightly with his elbow,
“It was great meeting you, don’t be a stranger, us mortals gotta stick together around here!”
With that, and a playful wave of his hands like he was playing the drums and he’s just made the funniest joke in the world, earning an eye roll from the other man, and off he went.
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Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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orangesaek · 1 year
Text
PLUS ONE
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you were invited to the company's yearly Christmas party, and everybody is required to bring a plus one. your co-workers start teasing you about bringing your imaginary boyfriend to the party, betting amongst themselves that you'd show up to the party and go home alone, not knowing who your boyfriend actually is.
characters: boyfriend!jaehyun x female reader
word count: 947
genre: i can't think of anything to perfectly describe this, but maybe some fluff? a bit of romance? anyway, it's basically just jaehyun being your hot & handsome bf
warnings: very slight workplace bully!ng (or teasing among workmates tho). that's it.
disclaimer: this is entirely fiction. pic not mine — full credits to the owner. strictly do not re-upload or translate anywhere else! lowercase intended. not proofread.
"so, uhm, where's this boyfriend you told us about?" one of your co-workers asked in a teasing tone.
it was just last week when your manager had started distributing the invitation letters for the Christmas party, which was a yearly thing, but you were taken by surprise when it was announced that each attendee must bring a plus one, and that everybody is required to attend, or else a "penalty" awaits. you weren't even sure if the whole penalty thing was true, but you didn't have any plans on risking your job.
you were just peacefully taking a sip of wine when your so-called department friends made their way to you, suddenly asking you for your plus one's whereabouts. you let out a nervous laugh, trying to look as calm as possible.
"h-he's already on his way," you quietly replied, but it was true. jaehyun did text you not too long ago that he's already in the car and that he'll be at the venue soon. it hasn't been that long since you started working for the company, and as much as you wanted to make friends with everybody, it was just too difficult for you. especially if you're surrounded by the not-so pleasing type of people.
you didn't miss the exchanged glances, followed by some snickering from your colleagues (which you believe they "tried" to hide).
"well, we look forward to meeting him," one of your colleagues said. "i mean, if someone does come or whatever." they added, snorting along with the others. you gave them a nervous smile, wishing that jaehyun would arrive fast.
feeling a bit more anxious by the minute, you took out your phone and was about to give jaehyun a call to ask for an update when you faintly heard some whispering and some people gasping.
"oh. my. god." one of your colleagues said.
"isn't that..." you heard another one say.
you looked at them, a bit confused as to why so many of them looked so stunned, some even covering their mouths in shock, like they just saw an alien or something. you decided to look at the direction they were looking at. and you finally understood why.
jaehyun was walking towards your direction, his dimples in full display as he was smiling your way. he just looked so perfect. like a sculpture that came to life.
jaehyun works as a model. with his handsome looks and chiseled body, it didn't take long before he took the modelling industry by storm. he was named as one of the country's top models — walking on the runway for high-fashion brands, appearing in numerous tv commericials and billboards, getting featured in magazines many times a year, and endorsing countless brands. you could amost see his face everywhere you go.
your relationship with him was definitely one of the things you never expected to happen in your life. he was a celebrity while you were just a regular girl who had a 9-5 job. regardless, jaehyun fell in love with you and never gave up on pursuing you even after you have rejected him multiple times. you were honestly unsure about your future with dating someone like him, but the consistent effort he made throughout those months of pursuing you was what made you say yes to him. and you were glad you did because he has been nothing but everything you ever asked for in a man.
you gave him a shy smile before taking a glance around you. you could see everyone looking at your boyfriend in awe. it seemed like he was walking on a runway, only that he was walking towards you. his eyes looking at you and only you.
"hey, beautiful" jaehyun said, his smile growing bigger, dimples becoming even more visible when he was finally in front of you. he took your hand and kissed the back of it. "i'm sorry i took so long. i swear i would have flown the car if i could." he added.
you swore you could see everyone looking at the two of you now. the whispers have become a lot more audible, with some taking out their phones to take pictures. the attention at that moment felt a bit too much, but what can you say? it's the one and only jeong jaehyun.
"no, babe, it's alright. i'm just glad you got here safely," you answered, smiling shyly at him. "thanks for coming."
jaehyun pulled you lightly for a quick hug, not missing a kiss on the top of your head. "of course. anything for the love of my life." he said. you could smell the perfume you gave him as a gift for his birthday, which was also Valentine's day.
breaking away from the hug, you turned to look at your colleagues (who were now gawking at the sight of you both) in amusement.
"guys, meet my boyfriend, jeong jaehyun" you said, already feeling your confidence go up again. you glanced up at jaehyun with a proud smile.
"nice to meet you all. i'm jeong jaehyun, her boyfriend" jaehyun said as he flashed them one of the most beautiful smiles they have ever seen. "and soon-to-be husband." he continued.
although you were blushing so hard after what he has said, you gave him a shy smile before turning your attention back to your colleagues, who were still looking so stupidly at the both of you.
"i told you guys i wasn't making things up about having a boyfriend," you said, trying to sound nonchalant. "and the one and only jeong jaehyun at that."
you smiled to yourself in victory, feeling so content with the look of stupidity on their faces.
- end.
a/n: the story's all over the place, i know. my brain's not working 100%, but I really want to write something :') sorry, and thank you in advance if you finished this story (and maybe, just maybe, liked it as well) i'll post better stuff soon! 💚
requests are OPEN! 💗
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bel1ewrites · 1 year
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i have a request for sam :)
could you write one where sam is busy with something at her desk, working or idk but reader wants her attention and bothers her a few times, sam ends up pulling reader into her lap so she can finish her work and still give some attention but reader starts distracting her by feeling her up etc and sam ends up overstimulating reader as punishment? thank you sm!!
a/n: I loved this idea, thank you so much for the submission! Also sorry in advance for my avoidance of the word "panties" ...I hate it.
Risky Rewards (Samantha Carpenter x Reader)
Description: After a long day, Sam decides to put you in your place.
WC: 2.2k
Warnings: smut, overstimulation, forced orgasm, praise kink, oral, fingering, top!Sam, bottom!Reader
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“I’M not going to hold your hand through this, Mr. Stewart. Figure it out and don't call me back until you have- oh for the love of God I don’t give a shit where it-”
Nothing good ever happened when you interrupted Sam while she was working. You knew this to be a proven fact. It almost always ended in you walking out of her office, head down and metaphorical tail between your legs. It wasn’t that she didn’t want you in there, in fact she enjoyed your company. Ever the handsy one, you’d take it too far and she’d scold you, turning you around and handing you something to keep you preoccupied as she screamed at grown men. Technically, you fell under the umbrella of insanity; doing the same thing time and time again, expecting different results. 
This time, she sounded even more pissed off through the door than usual. Her tone was tight, stress from the day seeping into her every move. You could picture her in her work clothes, back rigid and brows furrowed. You’d been lonely all day, and all you wanted to do was help her relax, no ulterior motive behind your actions. 
There was a silence that fell over you as she stopped speaking, which you took as an invitation of sorts. Quietly, you pushed open the door and slipped in. 
She hadn’t noticed you, a look of determination shining on her face as she held up the speaker of the landline she insisted on buying in the interest of looking more powerful. It worked, you had to admit. She was something out of a magazine, sitting at her desk and twirling a pen skillfully between her fingers whilst she bossed around people twice her age with a flawless finesse. 
When you began walking towards her, she spotted you and some of the tension drained from her body. The man was still on the phone with her, but she quickly slammed it face down, effectively hanging up on him mid sentence. 
“Hey, baby,” she grinned brightly, pushing back in her chair and gesturing for you behind her desk. The office was tidy, painted black and red and furnished to match. Pictures of the two of you sat just next to her desktop so that she could glance down at them throughout the day. 
You went over to her eagerly, standing with your back to the desk and smiling down at where she sat in a manspread. Her arms rested on those of the chair, highlighting the cuffs of her sleeves and the rings on her fingers. 
“Hi,” you whispered bashfully. She patted her lap, inviting you to sit with her.
“I have a few documents to go over, but it shouldn’t take long,” Sam explained as you situated yourself on her lap and wrapped your arms around her neck, “I promise we can do whatever you want to when I’m done, pretty girl.”
The nickname made you shudder and bury your head in her neck. She must’ve assumed you were just getting comfortable because she said nothing about it, simply pulling back up to the desk and continuing to work as you clung to her like a koala. 
—------
Everything was going fine. You’d dozed off on top of her, content to breathe her in and wait like a good girl. She got through all of her documents in blissful peace and only had five minutes of work left, at most. In all honesty, Sam was impressed that you hadn’t tried anything.  
 The phone rang, jolting you out of your sleep and pushing a disappointed sigh out of your girlfriend. Maybe ten minutes. 
“Carpenter speaking,” she gritted. “This better be good.”
Faintly, you could hear a man on the other side of the line. His voice was unusually high, nerves making it shake slightly. When you noticed Sam start to tense up you started massaging her neck in an attempt to calm her. 
It worked for the most part. Her head rolled back and she groaned at the painful pleasure as your fingers worked at the knots. The sight was heavenly, enough to bring a grown man to his knees. Your eyes devoured her hungrily. 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she continued to speak, free hand rubbing your back as you worked. “Listen, man. I’m tired, you’re tired, we’re all collectively tired-” you hit a particularly sensitive area and she groaned again, “-but you don’t see me fucking complaining about it, do you?” a pause. “That’s what I thought.” You hit a tight knot, watching her cover the microphone in her shoulder and turn to look at you, “Right there… mhm, like that. There you go.” Her head was limp on her neck, hand grabbing roughly at your hip and kneading it while the other brought the phone back to her ear.
You were growing desperate, trying your hardest not to shift and align your center with her clothed thigh. She looked so perfect in her work clothes, jaw clenched in either pleasure or anger and eyes running over your body. You wore her favorite top just to fuck with her. It was cut inexplicably low, exposing a little underboob with each shift. The sweatpants you had on were hers and you’d worn them because you knew how much she loved seeing you in her clothes. 
“Jesus fucking Christ. Who hired you? I bet it was Christine. Goddamn Christine... I’m hanging up now,” she rolled her eyes, hanging up on the poor man for a second time and turning her attention to you. 
With both hands free, she gripped your waist and adjusted her legs, situating your clothed cunt right against her thigh. She leaned back in her chair and watched your jaw go slack as you slowly grinded against her. Once she was comfortable with your pace, she crossed her fingers behind her head and watched as you put on a show for her.
“Don’t think I don’t know what you came in here for,” your angry girlfriend spat, listening to you whine and sigh. “You know, the worst part is,” you ducked your head against her shoulder, “I fucked you last night. Multiple times, if I remember correctly. So I’m gonna sit here, and you’re going to make yourself cum on my thigh without me having to move one fucking muscle, okay?”
“Okay. Yeah, okay,” you agreed hastily, picking up your pace. 
The barrier that the fabric created was a blessing and a curse. It was keeping you away from her muscled thigh, but it was also so delightfully rough that each time it rubbed against your clit you couldn’t help but moan a little louder. You needed more, but you knew she wouldn’t give it to you until you came so you rolled your hips as hard as you could and tightened the muscles in your lower belly more and more with each move. 
“Look at you, making a mess on my nice work pants. You must be so messy down there,” Sam breathed into your ear. She watched you ride her like it was the most amazing thing she’d ever set eyes on. 
You worked yourself up, slowly but surely, hips and abs aching from exhaustion. “So close,” Sam heard you mutter breathlessly, speeding up and grabbing onto her shoulders, shifting so more pressure pushed against your clit. It was dirty and messy, all speed and no rhythm but still your head lolled back as you came. It was a quick high, making you tense and shake and gasp loudly. 
Sam didn’t give you any time to process, quickly standing up and holding onto the small of your back as your legs wrapped around her waist out of instinct. You choked on a breath when your sensitive clit bumped against her stomach, each step she took was pure agony. 
She walked you out of her office, moving down the hall, up the stairs, and ending up in your bedroom. Her movements were quick and erratic, throwing you onto the bed and grabbing the waistband of your (her) sweats. They were off of you so fast that you questioned if they were ever even on in the first place, along with the white lace that had taken the brunt of your mess. 
“If you want me to stop, use the safeword because I’m not going to put up with your begging tonight,” she said in an almost animalistic tone as she threw the wet fabric behind her and watched you nod eagerly.
With no further words, she crawled onto the bed and in between your spread thighs, stopping when her chin hovered above your messy cunt and pressing her arms to your thighs to keep them open. “Take it like a good girl,” she demanded, dark eyes looking up at your flushed face and chest, “And take the top off, I wanna see all of you.”
You made to do as she said, grabbing the cropped hem, but your head fell back as she pushed her middle finger into you and curled it up against that spot she knew so well. “I said take it off,” she growled, thrusting the singular finger in and out of your dripping heat.
Somehow you managed to get the shirt off right before she added a second finger and licked a rough stripe along your still sensitive clit. It was too soon for you to cum again, but the way that she fucked you with strength and precision made your walls tighten around her with the threat of your next orgasm. 
“Wait Sam-” you urged her, “Sam slow down,” a short gasp, “I’m gonna cum- oh fuck- again.”
She kept going as if she hadn’t heard, picking up her pace and swirling her tongue through you like a starving animal. As soon as she pulled your clit into your mouth, you came with a deep moan that stemmed from your chest.
Usually, after you came, Sam would slow down her pace to help ease you through the waves of pleasure. Under normal circumstances, she’d take her mouth off of you and whisper sweet nothings as she’d watch you convulse beneath her and stroke your hair. This time was different. This time, she kept up her speed, having to work harder to push through your tightened walls. Her mouth remained pressed against you, dark eyes watching as you realized she wasn’t stopping. 
“Sam, Sam, Sam,” you chanted as you tried to push her away and close your legs. She wasn’t letting up, her insane strength keeping you on the bed as she wrestled your writhing body. “Sam I came I came I came- Sam,” you whined, clit aching and a dull thud running through your body as she continued to pound into you. Wet noises and pathetic sounds filled the room 
Your legs shook violently as she continued to fuck you, pulling another orgasm from your drained body. This time it hurt, your body was pushing itself to the limits. Your vision went black as your eyes rolled back in your head, feeling each push against your spasming cunt; each lick and twitch. 
She lifted her head up momentarily, fingers still pushing into you and pulling out your soul. “One more baby, one more I promise,” she assured you, watching tears stream down your face and straining to keep your legs apart. Sweat was forming at her scalp with the exertion. 
You shook your head violently and sobbed out. “I can’t, I can’t please I can’t,” you begged hoarsely, knowing she wouldn’t stop unless you said your safeword. 
“Yes you can,” she smiled, pressing a kiss to your shaking thigh. “You’re so good, baby. Taking it all. I know you have one more, it’s okay.”
Her lips went back to your abused clit, puffy and red and deliciously swollen. Through the pain, you could vaguely feel the pleasure building within you, letting out sobs and focusing on the way she fucked you like she knew you were hers. You pulsed limply around her fingers, walls tiring from the tension. When you looked down at her, eyes on you and lips on you and hands everywhere all at once, you came one last time.
The only way Sam knew you came was the look on your face as you fell completely limp, eyes closed and skin dewy with sweat. She kissed both of your thighs lovingly before climbing up and placing a kiss to your forehead. She then stripped herself of her work clothes, grabbing a towel to clean you with.
When it was done, she pulled your still twitching body to hers and threw the blankets over the both of you, watching your face as you slept.
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