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daddyslilchickenfingers2 · 3 months

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Kinktober (reuploaded)

Mutual Masterbation (Chris)

Request: None (but reposting for the anon who asked

Warnings: Masturbation (fingering/jacking off), riding, rough sex, dom Chris, squirting, daddy kink, use of ma/mama, friends to lovers, being super loud (Matt/Nick can definitely hear you), major fluff and aftercare at the end

Y/n’s pov

I’ve known the triplets for about two years, we started off as more so acquaintances, since I originally only helped edit their videos. However, we quickly became friends since I was at their house quite often for the footage. Once we became close friends, I started sleeping over at their house, usually sleeping on the couch instead of one of their rooms. Of course we were all friends, but Chris seemed to be more touchy with me.

Let’s use right now as an example, we’re all sitting on the couch watching a movie when Chris put his arm across the top of the couch. His arm was now behind my head, but Nick and Matt did this too so I didn’t think anything of it. That was until he scooted a bit closer so our thighs were touching and he moved his arm to wrap around my shoulders. Chris pulled me so my head was on his shoulder and he put his on top of mine.

This was different and new, I’ve never cuddled with Chris or Matt before, only Nick. I’m not complaining, I’m just a bit confused. Nonetheless, I still cuddled up next to him until everyone started going off to bed. I was getting ready to lay down on the couch when Chris asked, “Why don’t you just sleep in my room tonight? My beds gotta be more comfortable than the couch” he laughed. I contemplated the offer before agreeing since it was cold.

We went down to his room to just talk while watching tv, getting changed before plopping on Chris’ bed. We started talking about random shit, “You know what I hate? When bitches act like a dude jacking off is gross. Ugh act like they don’t fucking finger themselves and let everyone see” Chris said seriously. “What the fuck Chris! I bet you’ve never even seen a girl finger herself, so shut up!” I laughed back.

“Well not specifically for me, but I’ve watched porn” he challenged, “Chris, that’s sad! Even I’ve had a girl finger herself for me in a video and in person!” I laughed. “Never had a guy do it in front of me though…” I added after feeling the tension slowly start to rise. Chris’ eyes scanned my body for a moment, letting out a breathy “Damn…” with a long pause. “I’d totally let you watch me get myself off” he half joked.

I knew he was partially joking, but I wanted to be more of a tease, “Yeah, like I wanna watch you touch your teeny tiny dick” I rolled my eyes. Even though I was being sarcastic, Chris took this seriously, saying “My dicks not teeny tiny Y/n, it’s bigger than Matt and Nick’s so shut the fuck up unless you want me to tell everyone that one secret I swore I’d never tell a soul” the last part kinda scared me as he threatened to tell my embarrassing secret to everyone.

I’m assuming he saw the way my smile dropped and the color drained from my face because the smirk he was wearing only got bigger. “Aww does that scare you princess? Maybe you should stop acting like you think my cocks small, because you and I both know that I’m the one you’re having wet dreams about” he teased some more. I wasn’t going to let Chris try to blackmail me like that so I stood up and started walking towards his door.

“Where are you going” he asked, “As far away from you as possible, I’m not going to be fucking blackmailed over a joke I made” I said back coldly. Chris grabbed my by the wrist lightly and pushed me up against the wall, “You’re not leaving because I’m sorry, just stop calling my dick small” he said while gazing at my eyes. I begrudgingly agreed and trudged back over to his bed, sitting down and feeling the sexual tension in the air.

Chris was the first to speak after I stood up and started to take my pants off, “What the fuck are you doing?” he asked as I bent over to pull them past my ankles. “Getting comfortable, is that a problem?” I teasingly asked in a rhetorical manner. Chris gulped and shook his head when I sat back down to start a new movie, cuddling into him. About a third of the way through the movie, I turned to look at him because his breath hitched.

Shifting my gaze downward, I could see his hand slightly moving beneath the comforter, “Are you really touching yourself right now” I giggled. “I can’t help it!” he blushed heavily, “It’s only fair if I can touch myself too” I pouted, “Only if I can watch…” he bit his lip, “Do I get to watch you too?” I smirked. Chris looked over my face for a second before moving the blanket off our lower half and trailed his fingers across my thighs. “Only if you be a good girl and listen to me” he spoke lowly, voice laced with lust.

I nodded in agreement before moving so my back was against the wall, facing towards Chris who sat up against his headboard. “Tell me what you want me to do Chris” “I want you to get fucking naked and start teasing your pussy like a whore” he said gruffly, pulling my shirt over my head. “Goddamn… you’re beautiful Y/n/n, so fucking beautiful” Chris gasped as I took my panties off as well, “Your turn” I smirked back.

Only wearing his boxers, Chris was quick to get naked as well, revealing his massive cock. He was watching me as I played with my nipples, teasing myself and getting more wet in the process. “Open your legs, I wanna see your pretty little pussy. I just know you’re dripping wet for me” he said lowly, spitting on his cock in the process. “Can I touch myself yet? Please Chris? I’ll be a good girl and listen to you” I whined, desperate to feel some kind of stimulation.

Chris groaned as he started stroking his cock, “Already such a good girl, using your words. So good, asking for permission to touch yourself, go ahead baby” he smirked, biting his lip. I slipped a single finger inside of my needy pussy, moaning at the feeling and quickly adding a second one, trying to keep my focus on Chris’ big hand that was rapidly moving on his cock. The sounds in the room quickly became obscene after Chris leaned over to get lube out of his bedside table.

I watched in awe as he squirted the clear liquid directly onto his cock, hissing at the coldness before going back to rubbing his cock. “O-Oh fuck! That was so hot daddy!” I slipped out in a whiny moan, immediately saying “Sorry” before slapping my unoccupied hand over my mouth. Chris’ breath was coming out in ragged gasps, “Fuck! Fuck! God mhmm! Yes, say that again whore!” he panted out, watching my hand drop down from my mouth to my breasts.

I could tell we were both getting close and I just couldn’t take it anymore, I removed my fingers from my cunt and sat up on my knees. I moved to straddle Chris so fast that he didn’t even have time to think, “Fuck Chris, I’m so sorry!” I whined as I shoved my fingers in his mouth. I then lined myself up with his cock and started riding him like my life depended on it while Chris moaned around my fingers.

I pulled my fingers out of his mouth with a pop and almost came from his whiny moans. “Shit— Fuck, don’t be sorry! So tight, your pussy was fucking made for me!” “Oh fuck Chris! Daddy, you’re so big, shit” we both moaned. Chris groaned at the name before flipping us over, pushing my right leg up against my chest and over his shoulder before ruthlessly pounding into me.

“God you’re such a fucking slut! Taking my cock without permission, riding me like you’re in charge” he chuckled/groaned out. “Yes, yes daddy! A slut ‘m such a slut for you daddy, please can I cum!?” I incoherently moaned out, tears streaming down my face. “Beg for it bitch!” he growled, resulting in a loud almost scream-like moan form me as he was abusing my g-spot.

“Please Chris! I want to cum for you, want to cum on your cock! Daddy I need it so bad, please! Want your cum— oh… oh FUCK PLEASE I’M GOING TO CUM! PLEASE DADDY— FUCK CHRIS PLEASE!” I screamed out, my face completely soaked with tears from the pleasure. I already know I look so goddamn pathetic under him, I was being used in the best way possible and I fucking love it, the fact that Matt and Nick could probably hear us too makes it so much hotter.

“Yeah? Is my little fuck toy gonna cum? Go ahead baby, cum on my dick like a slut so I can fuck a baby in ya!” Chris moaned, moving his had down to rub my clit. Now that I had permission to cum, I did, having the most intense and mind blowing orgasm ever. I was in sensory overload, everything started going fuzzy and for some reason I felt wet, as my nails dug deep into Chris’ back, causing him to both hiss at the pain and whimper because of what he made happen.

“Fuck mama! Didn’t know you could fuckin’ squirt, holy shit! Take my fuckin’ cum like a slut!” he deeply groaned, his Boston accent really coming out as he came in me. Slowly Chris let my shaky leg down next to the other one, soothingly rubbing circles into my sides as I desperately tried to catch my breath. He started peppering soft kisses across my face as well, “You did so good mama, such a good girl for me. You’re so beyond beautiful baby” Chris praised me as my breathing slowed down and I was able to open my eyes.

“There’s those pretty y/e/c eyes! C’mon baby, let me take care of you” he softly kissed me. I felt my face heat up when I realized the sheets below me were soaking wet and starting to get cold. “Oh my god, Chris! I’m so so so sorry-“ I was quickly cut off by him picking me up and starting to walk us to the bathroom. “Don’t you dare fucking apologize for that ma, don’t ever apologize for squirting on me. That was so hot, I’ve never came so much before. You gotta pee though baby, I’ll be right back” Chris firmly said.

I did as he said before trying to stand up, instantly regretting it and letting out a small yell which resulted in Chris running over to me. “My legs hurt” I whined, “That’s why I ran you a bubble bath baby, I’m gonna take a fast shower and change the sheets while you relax then we can cuddle, okay?” he soothed me as he slowly set me in the tub while he got into the shower. Within 5 minutes, Chris was out of the shower and changing the sheets.

I was honestly falling asleep in the warm bath until Chris emerged into the bathroom with a cup. “Can I use this and wash your hair sweetheart?” he asked me gently, smiling at my fucked out face and body. “If you do it fast, ‘m so tired Chris” I pouted, looking at him with droopy eyes. He started using the cup to wet my hair before using the shampoo, rinsing it out and doing the same with the conditioner before helping me out of the tub.

I was quickly dried off and he helped me change as well as putting a loose braid in my hair so it doesn’t get tangled. My legs were so shaky and sore so Chris carried me back to his room but right before he set me down, I made a confession. “Chris…” I quietly mumbled as he laid down next to me, “Hmm?” he hummed back for me to continue. “I think I’m in love with you” I confessed, causing a big smile to spread across his dance.

Chris smiled, placing a long chaste kiss to my lips, “I’m in love with you too babygirl, you look so tired sweetheart, why don’t we go to sleep? Come ‘ere I want to cuddle!” Chris giggled, pulling me closer to him. I cuddled up into his side, placing just a few more kisses on his neck, “G’night Chris” I mumbled. “Goodnight princess, sleep well because I’m taking you out on a proper breakfast date in the morning” Chris beamed as he held me tight. With that we both started to doze off, excited for our first date in the morning.

Taglist: @aliyahsbody @angelic-sturniolos111 @biimpanicking @biplrbtch @chrisenthusiast @chrisolivia4l @christinarowie332 @chr1sgirl4life @creamoncreamoncream2 @delimeats-000 @dev-speaks @ermdontmindthisaccount @flowerxbunnie @fionaheartswomen @gilbertscurls @heartsforchrisandmatt @iheartchrissturniolo @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @justaslvttygirl @kvtie444 @lustfulslxt @luvysworld @m6ttsturniolo @mangosrar @mangoposts @meerkatzthings @mattsnutsack @meg-sturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @recklesssturniolo @solarsturniolo @soursturniolo @strniohoeee @strawberrysturniolo @sturniolocoded @sturniofilmd @sturniolohoe @sturniolopepsi @sturniolo0ntop @thecynthh

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©Daddyslilchickenfingers2 2024

Do not steal, use, or reupload my work

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chaoskirin · 1 year

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Watching the internet go after "major publishing houses" because they won the case against the Internet Archive is so upsetting.

I don't think people realize this, but they don't pay their authors enough to survive. Even if you're published through one of the big four, you're generally not going to earn enough to live, unless you're pumping out 6-10 books a year.

There seems to be this pervading belief that authors published with major publishers earn a LOT OF MONEY, IE that an advance might be in the range of six figures. Which leads people to the conclusion that piracy hurts no one.

In reality, your advance on a book might be in the range of $6K if you're a new author, and doesn't really go past the $20K range for established authors, unless you're really famous. They HAVE the money to pay authors. They just... don't.

I know $20K seems like a lot, but an adult living on their own needs a whole lot more to live, especially because authors in the US need to purchase health insurance. They don't get it through work.

In 2023, the living wage for a family is, at the very minimum, $80,000.

So what happens when you boycott Penguin, or Harper Collins? They aren't going to give their CEOs less. They're going to give their authors less. Because to them, authors are disposable. There are always more people willing to sell their books, until they realize they can't make a living wage off being an author. Then they stop writing.

And the CEOs keep getting yearly raises.

I really, REALLY wish I could get through to people on this. Every time I try, I'm usually slammed with one of two arguments: 1. Piracy hurts no one. Or 2. I ought to get an actual job and stop treating a hobby like a job.

Which just baffles me, because y'all are out here consuming books, but you're literally despising the authors for trying to write full time and survive. It sucks. And it's gotten progressively worse. Not even 5 years ago, the prevailing opinion was that you Do Not Pirate Books.

Honestly, it's hard to care anymore with wave after wave of instructions on how to pirate books. It's barely worth the effort to write anymore, and the desire to put the work into creating a story, editing, and then searching for a publisher just isn't there.

And that's how a lot of queer and marginalized authors feel. By pirating books, you're losing the voices you want to read, while elevating the voices who are doing real harm.

I just think you all should know that and accept that before pirating. If you're okay with that, then I guess go ahead and do it. You'll definitely be satisfied in the short term, but just understand that queer voices are FINALLY getting their stories heard. Pirating is just going to erase all that progress.

That being said, if I ever earn out 6 figures, pirate my books with my blessing. But right now, here's a picture of my March royalties:

So please, don't pirate my books.

Also, despite what the comments say, this is NOT a slippery slope toward destroying fanworks archives. The Internet Archive was literally pirating books (not purchasing them, like libraries do) then scanning them and putting them up on the internet to borrow. If the IA purchased books from authors to scan, it would be considered a library, and authors would be happy.

Fanworks like fanfiction fall under derivative work, or parody. It's a totally different ballpark.

So many organizations reached out to the Internet Archive in an attempt to come to a license agreement, and the IA did not respond.

I really hope people consider reblogging this post. My source is that I'm an author, and have been following this case very closely.

#internet archive #hachette v. internet archive #piracy #book piracy

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arceespinkgun · 1 year

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You know, I originally had it in a reblog, but I think I'll make a separate post analyzing the new trailer for Earthspark (major spoilers I never could have foreseen!!!)... I'm so excited!!! I tried to analyze it as best I could:

Is that G1-style Breakdown? I'm super surprised to see him! I'm excited though because I do like him and his older characterization as a super nervous guy who fumbles his words a lot. I hope that's going to return.

Bumblebee seems to be holding the Allspark?! And maybe keeping it from Starscream...? Maybe the Allspark had to do with Bumblebee needing to hide from GHOST? I never thought of that, actually! And he seems to be friends with Breakdown? I think that's a cool idea! I know Bumblebee mentioned racing circuits earlier, so I could totally see him being friends with Stunticons. EDIT: Huh, in one shot, Bumblebee is shown in his original alt-mode. Either he scanned it again, or that's a flashback? I'm so curious!

Why does Starscream have blue optics? I'm not sure I've ever seen that before. The closest I can think of is that his optics have changed color when using a power source, like the Allspark in Cyberverse or the Underbase in the Marvel comics. He definitely had red optics when he appeared for a second earlier... so maybe he powers up? But he seems to still be in prison with his blue optics here, so maybe he took a power source, like the Allspark or something, from GHOST after a prison break.

Tarantulas in his Transmetal form from BW is going to be in this show?! His design looks perfect in this style, by the way. I'm excited, I'm a big fan of him! He was so much fun in BW, and even though the show in about the Earth, I somehow never expected the BW characters! But Tarantulas had a really mysterious, unexplored origin, so maybe they'll tie him into Quintus Prime here instead of Unicron like was implied back in BW? I'm surprised that of all the BW characters they'd pick Tarantulas, though!

Shockwave!!! I'm excited to see a return to the Shockwave-Megatron conflict that hasn't really been a thing since the original comics. Now, I wonder what's going on here... since he has the Allspark in his lab (?) but then in this same trailer, Bumblebee is trying to keep it safe? Maybe the scene between Shockwave and Megatron is in the past, and the Allspark was sent through the Space Bridge before it was destroyed.

Huh, there was very little about the Maltos here, and nothing about GHOST or Mandroid, was there? They're the main plot, so maybe that's being kept secret for now.

In that last shot, it looks like maybe Thrash and Robby went to Cybertron, because they're in front of Shockwave's body. But... isn't it weird that Shockwave looks undamaged even though he's deactivated?

#earthspark spoilers #transformers earthspark #I'm vibrating with joy #my analysis #So much of this is new and fresh

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gaygryffindorgal · 1 year

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HPMA AU; A Christmas Prince

Chapter 1: A Wayward Prince

Summary: Dawn’s boss Kerry Crouch requires he fly to the tiny kingdom of Alderly to write an article on the succession crisis that has been brewing there for almost a year. After the death of the previous king, the crown prince has been shirking his responsibilities, allegedly jet-setting all over the world, living the high life. Now, the interregnum is drawing to a close and if Prince Quentin doesn’t step up, the whole country could be plunged into chaos.

Words: 1.9K

Characters:

Dawn Harvelle, Evan Harvelle, and Kerry Crouch by @potionboy3

Pandora Lovelace by @gcldensnitch

Rocky Weasley by @magicallymalted

Beginning | Next Chapter

Chapter 1: A Wayward Prince

Dawn stared at the cursor blinking back at him from his computer screen. The article he was editing was utterly incomprehensible, not to mention several hundreds of words over the maximum limit. He was not getting paid enough for this. He got up and scanned the office for Fischer Frey, the culprit behind his current headache. It didn’t take long to find the man, chatting away at the coffee maker.

“Get a load of my next piece,” Fischer was saying. “Ugly Christmas Jumpers of the Stars.”

“Celebrity jumpers?” asked his brother Colby. They were twins, but out of the two of them, Fischer was definitely the worse. “That’s riveting.”

“It’s going to be brilliant; I tell you,” said Fischer.

“Hey, Fischer,” Dawn interrupted.

“Not now,” Fischer said.

“This’ll take just a sec,” Dawn continued, ignoring him. “I just had a couple of questions about your article, the Fashion Week piece that I'm editing.”

Fischer turned towards him and gave him a withering stare. “What about it?”

“Well, see, the thing is that Kerry wanted 300 words, and this is 650,” Dawn explained. “And one of the designers you quoted wasn't even on the floor, so...”

“Look, Dawn, I really don’t have time for this,” said Fischer and took a sip of his coffee. “Just clean it up.”

“It's not just a clean-up, it's a major rewrite.”

“What are you, the executive editor now?” Fischer snickered.

“No, I'm just trying to explain that–,” Dawn tried. He was starting to get really annoyed, which was saying a lot, since Fischer pissed him off on most days.

“Just fix it,” Fischer said and walked away. Colby gave him an apologetic look and followed his brother. Dawn sighed and headed back to his desk, just to see Rocky and Pandora waiting for him.

“That went well,” said Pandora.

“Let me guess, you're gonna rewrite his stinky old article because you don’t want to lose this job?” Rocky asked.

“It’s sort of part of the job description, isn’t it?” Dawn said and sat on his chair with a heavy sigh.

“Technically we’re junior editors, not writers, so–,” Pandora started.

“I’m just going to muddle through this one and maybe one day I’ll become a real journalist,” Dawn interrupted. And maybe he was also going to murder Fischer Frey in his sleep.

“Maybe we can grab pints after work and shit-talk Fischer?” Rocky suggested.

“I’m in,” said Pandora.

“I’m probably going to need to rope you guys into a murder plot while we’re at it,” said Dawn.

Suddenly, the door to Kerry’s office flew open, and the boss himself peeked out. “Dawn, I have to talk to you, get in here,” Kerry called. Dawn looked at his friends.

“He couldn’t have heard me plot Fischer’s murder, right?”

“That old man has the ears of a fox,” said Rocky.

“He’s like the Chuck Norris of editors-in-chief,” Pandora added helpfully.

“You guys should’ve become stand-up comedians,” said Dawn and got up, heading towards the boss’s office.

“How can I help?” asked Dawn upon entering.

“Urgent business,” Kerry replied, taking a seat behind his desk.

“If this is about Fischer’s Fashion Week article–,” Dawn started.

“Forget about Fashion Week, this is something else,” said Kerry in an uncharacteristically enthusiastic tone. “Sit.”

Dawn took a seat.

“What do you know about the royal family of Alderly?” Kerry asked.

“Uh… the tiny country in Central Europe?”

“Yes,” said Kerry.

“Wait,” said Dawn, remembering following the news coverage last year. “Their king died, and the prince who's supposed to take over is a total flake.”

“A flake, an international playboy, a scandalous socialite…” Kerry added.

“Playboy Prince Quentin took off before daddy died, which wouldn't be a problem, except they have this interregnum thing…” Dawn said, trying to remember.

“The time between two reigns,” Kerry explained. “In Alderly, it's a maximum of a year, which is about to expire.”

“So, they need a butt in the big chair by Christmas day,” said Dawn. “But if the prince is MIA, then what happens?”

“That's exactly what you're going to find out,” Kerry said. “His Royal Highness is due back this weekend, but just in case he abdicates, I need somebody there to capture the fireworks.”

“In Alderly?”

“They have a press conference scheduled for the 18th, and I need boots on the ground.”

“Not to shoot myself in the foot here,” Dawn started. “But why me?”

“None of my regular writers can spare spending Christmas away.”

“Right,” said Dawn. He should’ve known it wasn’t about his talent. “I’ll think about it.”

Dawn, Rocky, and Pandora hovered over Dawn’s computer screen, looking at articles written about Prince Quentin of Alderly.

“This bloke is your assignment?” asked Rocky. “He certainly gets around.”

“Oh look,” said Pandora, clicking open another article. “Another secret girlfriend.”

“Brilliant…” muttered Dawn. He was annoyed just by the sight of the prince.

“Seriously, Dawn, this assignment could jump-start your career,” Rocky said.

“I know…”

“I say do it,” Pandora offered.

“I…” Dawn considered. He had planned on spending Christmas with his dad, and he wasn’t sure he could just leave him alone for the holidays. But then again, Rocky was right. If he pulled this off, it could really do wonders for his career at Beat Now. “I’ll talk to my dad.”

“Guess that means rain-check on the drinks?” said Rocky.

“Yeah,” Dawn agreed.

“Well,” said Pandora. “This is exciting.”

After work, Dawn went to visit his father. Evan Harvelle had put up a few Christmas decorations and was now making tea in the kitchen. Dawn was beginning to feel like he definitely couldn’t spend Christmas in Alderly while his dad was alone at home.

“Hey, listen. Christmas Eve,” Evan said, brigning two steaming cups of tea to the living room. “Instead of doing our regular pizza, I was thinking maybe we could go eat somewhere a tad fancier,” he suggested and then noticed the look on Dawn’s face. “What? Dawn, what?”

“My editor has given me a story to cover,” Dawn blurted out.

“Your own story?”

“It's about the royal family of Alderly,” Dawn explained. “The prince, he's a bit of a playboy, he might even abdicate.”

“Kiddo, this sounds like it's going to be your big break.”

“Yeah, but the thing is, I'd have to be away through Christmas, and I know that you'd be alone. I just–,” Dawn began, but his dad cut in.

“Sounds like you need a bit of Fatherly Advice 101,” Evan said. “Sometimes you just have to take a chance.”

“That’s… really deep, dad, thanks,” Dawn laughed.

Evan laughed too, and said: “What I mean is, you really want to write your own stuff, you’re always talking about it,” he took a sip of his tea. “So shouldn’t you stay true to your dreams?”

“Sounds like a fortune cookie,” Dawn commented.

“All right,” said Evan, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, the point is, don't worry about me, you go over there to Aldi-whatnot–”

“Alderly.”

“Alderly, that's it,” said Evan. “And you make me proud.”

“Alright.”

“And maybe learn to appreciate my advice, it’s great.”

“Sure, dad…”

It had snowed in Alderly, because of course it had. Everything about the tiny country looked like it was intentionally made to look like Santa’s village. Dawn followed a hoard of other journalists out of the airport and joined a queue for taxis. It was a crisp day, and Dawn wrapped his scarf tighter around his neck.

“When is the prince supposed to arrive?” he heard one of them wonder out loud.

Another replied: “An hour ago, maybe he’s missed his flight.”

“Probably shacked up with some countess somewhere,” the first man continued, snickering.

Then Dawn was finally up for a taxi, and as he opened the door, a man rushed past him and got in without so much as a glance at him. Or maybe there was a glance, but as he was wearing sunglasses, it was difficult to tell.

“Hey!” Dawn protested.

“I’m sorry,” the man said. “I really have to go.”

“No but this is my taxi!”

“My apologies.”

“You can't just do that, you selfish twat!”

The man pulled the door shut behind him and the car sped away. Apparently, the cozy Christmas vibe was only for show in this country.

“First time?” asked a nice lady in a gray pantsuit once they’d all filed in to take their seats in the room reserved for the press conference.

“Sorry, what?” asked Dawn.

“First time covering the royals?” the woman continued.

“First time covering anything,” replied Dawn. He was beginning to realize he was in way over his head. “Any words of wisdom?”

“Pick a new career,” the lady laughed.

“Oh,” said Dawn. “Thanks, I guess?”

Right then, the double doors swung open, and a palace aide walked in. He made his way to the podium in the front of the room.

“I wonder if he’ll show up this time?” whispered a man behind Dawn.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the aide into the microphone. “Thank you so much for coming today. I realize you've traveled a great distance to be here, but I'm sorry to announce we're going to have to cancel the press conference. Prince Quentin is... unavailable at this time.”

“More like he's avoiding the press,” the man behind Dawn said.

“Does this mean that the prince is abdicating the throne?” asked the woman next to Dawn.

The aide looked distinctly uncomfortable. and said: “I can assure you, his coronation is very much on schedule, and will take place at the annual Christmas Eve Ball.”

“Then where is he?” someone in the crowd asked. Everyone raised their hands and thrust their recording devices forward, shouting out questions at the same time. The poor aide scanned the room.

“Uh, the polite young man with the red scarf,” he said, and Dawn realized he was looking at him. Many pairs of eyes turned to him, and Dawn cleared his throat.

“When are you rescheduling the press conference?” he asked.

“We, uh, don't have any plans for that at this time.”

“Is it possible to arrange an interview with Prince Quentin?” he persisted. He needed this story after coming all this way.

“There will be no interviews with the prince,” said the aide with a finality that dampened Dawn’s spirits. “Thank you so much for coming.”

“King Stefanos would never have done this,” someone said.

“Talk about a real jerk-around,” the man behind Dawn complained.

“Should've known it would happen with this guy, what a waste.”

“Drinks on me back at the hotel?”

As the crowd started to spill out of the room, Dawn made a spontaneous decision. He was not going to go home empty-handed.

Dawn used the commotion of scraping chairs and chatter to slip out of the room from a side door, instead of the main entrance. He wondered, briefly, if Alderly had the death penalty and if so, how lax they were with its implementation. He removed his press pass and stuffed it in his pocket. The door led to a fancy hallway decked out for the holidays. Nobody was there so Dawn took out his phone and snapped a few photos. He walked down the hall and entered another, similar room to the one that had held the would-be press conference. The walls were decorated with paintings of long dead people. Dawn was taking more pictures when he suddenly heard someone clearing their throat behind him. Dawn spun around, dread creeping up on him.

“May I help you?” asked a stern voice. Dawn was so screwed.

#hpma fic #fic: a christmas prince #dawncey #dawn harvelle #pandora lovelace #rocky weasley #quincey alderly #*mine #*my writing

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friendlysailor · 2 years

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Hey, do you have any antivirus recommendations? I deleted McAffee because I found it annoying.

Ahoy! Thank you so much for asking, because this is something i absolutely have! From personal experience, i definitely think that getting rid of McAffe is a good idea. It has a tendency to add a lot of "Bloatware" (Software whose usefulness is reduced because of the excessive disk space and memory it requires.) to your computer, and has a fairly rocky reputation. It is often bundled with other software and even some new computers, and tend to take up a lot of your CPU when scanning files. I absolutely understand that you find it annoying! It's basically a program made to pry upon less tech-savvy people, to get them to pay for McAffe's mediocre-at-best service.

Now, being done ranting about McAffe, let me come with some recommendations. The first one being "Malwarebytes," which i personally use.

If i ever can afford to pay for any "premium" anti-virus programs, it'd be Malwarebytes. The program can be downloaded for free, require no account and no payment info.

After installing i usually activate the 14 day free trial, and when that trial runs out, i simply tell it to deactivate the premium-mode, and then use the free version. Sometimes when updating i get new offers for premium trials, which i usually take, although the free-mode is plenty good enough.

When using the free Malwarebytes, i always make sure to manually scan any new downloads. Aside from that it does most stuff itself, most importantly including periodic scheduled scans.

Due to it being a hot minute since i last did some research around this, i made sure to do some now! And seemingly the most recommended anti-virus of 2022 is called "Bitdefender." The free version seems to cover the same grounds as Malwarebytes, and i've found no mentions of any major issues with this one either!

I have also seen some people discuss how the included Windows antivirus should be good enough, i do not trust Microsoft enough for that, but will make sure to look into this. The most important when using ANY antivirus is to make periodic scans, keep the software as updated as can be, and ALWAYS scan newly downloaded files! Remember this when you find yourself downloading files, ESPECIALLY if you are treating yourself to some piracy. It will save you from a good 99% of any malicious/harmful files out there!

I hope this has been helpful! If you have any questions, requests or anything else, always feel free to send asks or message me! If i can't find it, we might be able to get someone to put it out there!

#antivirus #ask #thank you so much for the ask anon! I love doing this stuff!

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aseriesofunfortunatejan · 7 months

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So fun fact about my grandpa's funeral /s

6 days before the fact, we were informed that we could have a slideshow playing during the funeral. My grandma was interested in that, so we got to work.

It was recommended that we include about 50 photos. Definitely no more, but everyone told me it was nightmarish whenever there weren't enough photos of the deceased and the few available played on repeat. The only issue was... being that my grandma is 94 years old, the large majority of the photos we had were printed.

We didn't have a scanner. We didn't have time to get them scanned somewhere (where?). So whenever I had time to sit in front of the computer during those ~6 days, my mission was to:

take a photo of each photo with my phone

personally. i was the only one whose phone had a good enough camera, and i was the only one with enough common sense to use good enough lighting every time.

add them to a google drive

edit the horrors caused by the fact that those were photos of photos from my phone

The computer? A 9 years-old laptop belonging to my brother that you could hear screaming from the next room. I got started by Googling "some guy recreated photoshop online tumblr" and finding out that one program/site is called Photopea.

Each action took a minimum of one minute to load. Some of the photos were very difficult to salvage (aka the few photos that were taken by someone other by me. No please go ahead take your photo in the darkest room in the house. I don't mind.) but I still wound up doing a very clean job, and some of the photos, you couldn't tell were... a photo of a glossy photo with a smartphone.

The only person who sent us digitalised photos was my cousin, and this caused her to be way over-represented in the slideshow.

After taking these notes:

...I had two of them disappear under mysterious circumstances. You're not even the favourite grandchild.

As a note, I tried to get my brother, who was still at home and is supposed to be great at Photoshopping, to edit some of the photos. He half-assed it, didn't understand the assignment, and I wound up having to do it again anyway.

I worked hard, and I guess it was somehow expected of me, because no one but my mom seemed to really acknowledge the hard and specific work I was given.

One last fun fact before I go: I was the last person to see my grandpa alive. On the day we learned he might die, after spending hours by his side in the hospital, my grandma started feeling unwell. When we brought her downstairs where the A/C was on, I left some stuff in the room, to make sure we couldn't possibly leave without coming back to say goodbye. My grandma felt uncomfortable coming back, when at this point he was in a coma. I went back upstairs alone, and I was the last person to tell him goodbye.

I sort of knew it might turn out to be the case. That's why I tried to speak loudly and slowly, on the off-chance he could still hear me. Still, this lives with me. I'm really not that special, I wasn't that impactful in my grandpa's life, but in his last moments I was the only one who managed to communicate with him, who took care to understand his difficult speech, who spoke back in a comprehensible voice. As it turned out, I was the very last person to speak to him at all.

During the ceremony, I decided against walking up to his coffin to traditionally "say goodbye" before the incineration. I already had. My brother asked about it, but he was understanding of my decision. The slideshow was playing in the background: they used a surprisingly good screen, and everyone thought the photos looked great. It wound up playing a few times in a row. I knew I was in three photos, though one is a group photo where I'm barely visible, so closer to two; one where I was a kid, and one where I was probably 18. The thought played and replayed in my mind that it might fuck me up if when they push the coffin out of the room, the last photo on-screen as he leaves the room is one with me.

...You probably get why I'm even mentioning this. Somehow, that it was the photo where I was already an adult made it sting even more.

#random #personal #cw: death of a family member #long post

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firespirited · 1 year

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It'd been a while since I'd done a r-dblr purge (mark red and block if they are actively cruel to trans people within the first page of their blog. You'd think feminist issues would be the bulk of posting, it's r-dical feminism after all and all the issues are ongoing. BTW I don't block people for hating men, they have a right to vent and it takes time to understand the systems at play that do allow for decent men even if you're not ready to to partner with any cishet ones) I probably marked and blocked 150 today, many 18-24 years old, lots of them lonely.

Doing the scan of a blog to make sure I'm not marking someone who didn't get the dogwhistles in a bigoted post means you see a lot of the content they're angry about.

I too hate porn unless it's safe sane and enthusiastically consensual.

That means performers who know exactly what they are getting into, who have alternatives if they want a different job and can set boundaries without being pushed or blacklisted for it. The majority of porn doesn't fit but the advent of amateur, onlyfans and ethical studios gives people options to view porn where no-one is hurt.

I also believe that all viewers need to know that pron is sex stunts and some things will not work for them, cause chafing or stds, cause injury if perfomed for real. That should be part of the viewing, a little PSA 'don't try this at home we're actors, we rehearsed the hair pulling so no-one's scalp got torn and switched condoms and edited it out'. Honestly I find most of the porno tropes misogynistic, macho and racist even though we've mostly left gonzo behind.

Straight Male performers aren't allowed to be shown as into their partner... when behind the scenes they get quite tender, briefly besotted with their partner when it's not an ego driven star.

I also have hard boundaries about what kind of porn a partner would watch. I pay extra for no slavery in my chocolate and expect a partner diligent enough to get their porn from people not getting boundaries violated or work injuries.

But there's no nuance to rdfm anti porn stances. They're going off trafficking victims and Linda Lovelace's speeches when sex work like marriage is a whole spectrum from a heinous crime to chosen job. And we have the ability to hear from all of these women. What they really want from their industry, from activists, from society at large. The in person full contact sex workers I've known were doing it so they could be present during the day for their children or get a higher education without their study time consumed by a low wage job. Another was seeking validation and briefly being loved, her rl relationships kept imploding because it was never enough or she'd push them to see if they'd love her anyway. That wasn't exactly sane. But you can't force anyone into getting meds and therapy if they're not ready.

There were articles about how marriage hurts women who must leave their family and join the husbands and instead of talking about the part of the research that showed that women who got men to move in with them were able to negotiate better work and pay equality, it was just desist and kill all men.

Funnily enough it's my "not really feminist", "don't like the term" , mum who originally sent me the study with a quote from Moses in genesis explaining Gd's guidelines "Therefore a man must leave his father and his mother and cling to his wife". Funny how many abramic religious marriages ignore that you can't be momma's boy and a husband and definitely not move your wife in with your folks.

Anyway that's this month's observations, those who actually did have 2nd wave posts on top of hating on transness are very young and are often starting out with the non black non queer reading from 30 years ago after a superficial lib fem alignment with zero reading. Often in college or just out of college having been 'peaked' against what they perceive to be mainstream feminism after seeing crime and inequality statistics. If you're interested in reducing terfs, a good place to start is outreach and local online bookclub where you can get the word of intersectionality and sisterhood out before the gcs groom them.

There is an initial curiosity, there is still that spark but it is being answered with unnuanced conclusions with simple explanations and "solutions" that shut down futher investigation.

There were also a couple of detrans afabs who will probably choose to be gnc or non binary or retransition when they're more comfortable with how they can be men. This is a systematic problem with trans medicalism that wants to stick people into binary boxes and insist they perform masc men and femme women. That's not a patient based approach and it's part of the conservative restrictions on the way gender care is allowed to exist at the fringes of healthcare.

#saf #Observations on rdblr #Feminism

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hydralisk98 · 10 months

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Word-wise-Czardom (mostly onto now evil & less evil deeds and overall tools from Microsoft & soon enough FAANG) "studies" [WIP]

As much as it pains me to dedicate time to what is now mostly proprietary software corporations, I kinda have to admit such haven't fully came to their current status out of a vacuum. And as I felt like it could be a great gateway for folks out there to get a power-journey into their technological stacks with historical baggage and tinkering / practice exercises / suggestions. Also borrowed a "MS-DOS for dummies" and a computation history "Of Mice and Men" books on my side to scan, study and process from my hometown public library as to get some very rudimentary content to get people hooked from into the journey towards FLOSS content / computation stacks / "deques". Enjoy!

First, we start with the technical considerations derived from the SCP Gazelle... and IBM 5150 personal computer. (the SeattleComputerProducts Gazelle is mostly at the later end of the video but yk, I provide sources with additional informations as I see fit; Providing the hardware specifications of this specific series of that SCP computer soon enough...)

youtube

Essentially boils down to 86DOS / QDOS becoming PC-DOS & MS-DOS 1.25 / 2.0 . And as a result SCP Gazelle & IBM 5150 specifications being the baseline for such early editions of Microsoft operating system efforts alongside Xenix (abandonned later, competing with UnixSystemV) and XEDOS (abandonned sooner, mixture between Xenix and MS-DOS) .

Soon, I am gonna run a Gazelle+Perq+5150-inspired virtual machine and a couple of video demonstrations relatively soon and pipeline my way across that Micro-Soft pipeline from a 8086-powered 16-bit machine on my way from earliest decent release towards a Windows 11-style build. Also gonna tinker alot around the "Windows 8 but on 16-bit MS-DOS 8" pun and a couple of cool "Windows 2.11 for 386 quite packed" + "Windows ME with alternative NT inspired micro-kernel"... things. Definitely gonna dual-boot at least between official Microsoft releases on snapshots & FreeDOS for ease-of-use and overall stronger technical enjoyment.

First draft for my very own virtual-first hardware-faculative "Sascha Heike" computer build from 86-DOS 1.14 ( PC-DOS 1.0 / MS-DOS 1.25 ) to a "OpenSource+Libre+Transparent+Light" Win11 workflow

Initial specifications for the virtual machine model aka "Edition #1" +Intel 8086 CPU +2x 128KB SRAM cards +MonochromeDisplayAdapter(MDA)+OrchidGraphicsAdapter equivalence graphics card +some better sound card than the built-in PC speaker as of the 5150 from the get go +2x 8" floppy drives +1x 8'' Winchester disk +Either Amber or White monochrome CRT monitor +Keyboard (IBM Model F Keyboard?) +MS-DOS 1.25 / 2.0 & PC-DOS 1.0 & FreeDOS (always keep FreeDOS up-to-date regardless) multi-boot operating systems bootloader configuration and overall setup +MicrodotLinux & System III & System V & xv6

First upgrade aka "Edition #2" +Color CRT monitor +Pointing device (either a Touchpad or a Lightpen) +3x 128KB SRAM cards ~Either a Plantronics ColorPlus, a entry-level Hercules Graphics Card or a ColorGraphicsAdapter (CGA) ~From the Intel 8086 to a either AMD 386-tier CPU or Intel 80386 CPU +Intel 8087 Coprocessor ~Update MS-DOS to at least 5.0 but not after that major edition (so no 6.22, no 7.0 nor 8.0 yet) +install "Windows 2.11 for 386" +possibly a decent Xenix version ~2x 5.25" floppy drives +Xerox Rooms for Windows +hDC Windows Express?

Second upgrade aka "Edition #3" ~Touchscreen portrait CRT color monitor... +Windows 3.0 with MME (Multi-Media Extensions) +Windows 3.11 for Workgroups +Microsoft Bob shell & its GreatGreetings extension software +MagicCap for Windows ~Even better sound card (probably Adlib SoundBlaster) ~Video Graphics Array card? ~Update MS-DOS to 6.22 (not 7.0 or 8.0 yet) ~Decent Mouse ~New PS/2 Keyboard ~2x 3.5" floppy drives ~12-48MB of RAM

Third upgrade aka "Edition #4" +Windows 95 +4DOS +Netscape Navigator +16-bit VDM integration +Lynx browser +Latest GNU Hurd build for 32-bit x86 +3DNA 1.0 & 1.1 +OpenVMS? +OS/2 Warp 4? +3DNA 1.0/1.1?

Fourth upgrade aka "Edition #5" +Windows 98 SE +ArcaOS +BeOS +Haiku +Novell network Unixware +IBM Lotus Smartsuite? +Microsoft FrontPage ~CSS1 ~HTML3.5

Fifth upgrade aka "Edition #6" +Windows ME +Interix +16-bit MS-DOS flex tile grid program(s) out of the look in Windows 8 & 8.1 +Linux distro with TDE ~CDE ~XHTML ~CSS2 ~Batch scripting

Sixth upgrade aka "Edition #7" +Windows XP & early Windows Vista +OpenSolaris from SunMicrosystems last open source build +Linux Slackware distribution ~TDE/early KDE (before the Plasma revamp) +Microkernel NT as per Andrew Taunenmaum expectaions +Python interpreter +Powershell +Mozilla Firefox ~HTML4 ~XML+XSL

Seventh upgrade aka "Edition #8" +late Windows Vista and Windows 7 +illumos' OpenIndiana +Debian ~RegEdit ~Sys32 utilities ~Lightweight options -Privacy-violating services & other telemetry disabled / purged from the system ~DirectX9 / 10 / 11 ~OpenGL ~HTML5 ~CSS3 ~Vulnerability exploit of the embedded spyware processor (& microcode) that uses MINIX3 to minimize hardware telemetry

Eight upgrade aka "Edition #9" +Windows 8 & 8.1 +Windows 10 & 10X +Windows 11 onwards +Vulkan +Devuan +Artix? ~ Repurposing of the embedded spyware processor (& microcode) using MINIX3 & reverse-engineering my way towards such a outcome ~KDE Plasma 5.27 & release candidate of preview 6 ~nsCDE ~LinuxSubsystemForWindows ~WindowsSubsystemForLinux +Git & SubVersion ~Sandbox ~Other legacy functionalities & tweaks (like screensavers, fully custom themes, wallpapers, skins, sounds, mouse pointers, widgets, et cetera.)

Let me know if you want to see such learnblr lively studious dives and how to contribute to the documentation process, because while I have a abundance of ideas, I wouldn't mind to share the burden / delegate some to other people as they wish. Only if you so wish though no worries.

Here's a little wrapped gift for you all before I leave you for tonight (very D&D 5E oriented tomorrow due to the game session happening onto that day's evening / night)

+Asahi Linux? (closer to macOS and Darwin family) +xv6 & Plan9 & inferno (closer to Bell Labs' research Unix family) +FreeBSD & OpenBSD & NetBSD (closer to BSD family) +OpenGenera & Mezzano & ChrysaLisp (closer to the larger Lisp family) +ToaruOS +SerpaeOS +SerenityOS +KolibriOS +HelenOS +SyllableDesktop +Redox & PhantomOS +Ghost +ITS +TROPIX +CTSS +COS-310 +Harmony +ShareOS +WozMon +Concurrent MP/M +Apple SOS +UMES +IBSYS +IPL (Information Processing Language for the IBM 701) +GECOS +OS/360 & DOS/360 +TSS/8 with SeattleComputerMuseumPlus tweaks like Lisp 1.5 and 6 available users (Seattle Comptuer Museum PDP-8/E TSS/8 lively runtime timesharing shared exclusively on Mastodon until the project shutdown during the pandemic in ~2020-2021) +Hercules emulator & AIX +IBM i & Linux on IBM Z +BESYS +UNIVAC? +nyxt +QBASIC (Advanced Integer BASIC) +Applesoft BASIC +Swift +UCSD Pascal +TinyBASIC +AppleDOS +Steve Wozniak's Apple Disk II +Apple ProDOS +dBase & WordStar (CP/M software) +AROS (closer to later Commodore, around the Amiga) +ZealOS (TempleOS fork, closer to earlier Commodore, around the Commodore 64 and its KERNAL) +Parade (XXIIVV's Paradise operating system) +Armbian? +Libreboot +IBM Lotus Notes +RISC-V application-tier 64-bit data processor +Selectric / Timex Rotor Machine / RadioTeleType / TV-typewriter device

#maskoch #history #technology #computers #Microsoft #learnblr? studyblr?#Youtube

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diaznavarro61 · 2 years

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junghelioseok · 3 years

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heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

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latte-fairytaekwoon · 3 years

Text

𝚂𝚎𝚡 𝚃𝚊𝚙𝚎 (𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐 & 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗) 𝚁𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙺𝚒𝚖 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐 (𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣) × 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝙵𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎) × 𝙲𝚑𝚘𝚒 𝚂𝚊𝚗 (𝙰𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚣)

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚂𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏.

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚆𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛𝚜, 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐'𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚒𝚛𝚕𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚙 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚜.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟻𝙺+

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚅𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚖, 𝚜𝚎𝚡 𝚝𝚊𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 (𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚝), 𝚎𝚡𝚑𝚒𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚖, 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚛𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐), 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚙*𝚜𝚜𝚢 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚞𝚗𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚡 (𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗), 𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚒𝚎, 𝚅𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚞𝚛! 𝙳𝚘𝚖! 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚓𝚘𝚘𝚗𝚐 × 𝙳𝚘𝚖! 𝚂𝚊𝚗 × 𝚂𝚞𝚋! 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @seacottons @multidreams-and-desires @yunhofingers @yunhoiseyecandy @little-precious-baby @galaxteez @deja-vux @brie02 @couchpotatoaniki @rvse-miingi @daniblogs164 @a-soft-hornytiny

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The young female looked at the male in front of her in an appalled manner.

"Umm.....what?" She could not believe the words that just came out of his mouth.

Her boyfriend however didn't seem bothered by her reaction nor did the overly enthusiastic smile on his face brush off.

"How do you feel about helping me make a sex tape?" He repeated his previous request.

The girl raised an eyebrow at him, wondering if perhaps he was still drunk from the previous night in which he and some of the other members decided to act like dumb teens and got wasted in their dorm, resulting in him drunk calling his girlfriend and her coming over to help out the oldest and the tallest member control the other 6 men who were going berserk.

"When did you even get an idea like that?" She questioned him.

"Last night actually."

She threw her hands up and huffed.

"That's it. I'm not letting you anywhere near any alchohol for the next year." She swore to herself.

"Awww Y/N, baby, come on, don't be like that. Hear me out."

Taking one of her arms, he pressed her body against his, both of them still warm given it hadn't been long since they got out of the comfort of the bed. With one hand caressing her lower back and the other running itself through her hair, Hongjoong began to lazily press kiss across her jaw, knowing fully well it was a weakness to get her to give in.

"Think about how pretty you'll look. I'll edit it so you look even more beautiful. It'll be like one of those romantic adult films we watch together, and I know for a fact you like watching the explicit scenes."

Y/N let out a soft and shy giggle at being called out like that. She had often wondered, even out loud, how actors could actually go forth with such erotic scenes. She had to admit she admired their courage for doing them so effortlessly.

"Are you sure it's not something you wanna film to take with you whenever you're oversea? Watch a replay of you fucking me dumb?"

Now it was Hongjoong's turn to blush red. Y/N noticed how he swallowed hard, meaning there was something else.

"Hongjoong..... you were suggesting that you film us having sex...right?"

Hongjoong's eyes began to waver nervously.

"Well um...I was actually thinking more along the lines of....... someone else.....fucking you.." He stammered the last parts out.

"Are you serious?!" Y/N pushed him off her in a horrified manner, her hands fanning her face as she felt herself getting hot all of a sudden.

"Come on. You're acting like it's illegal or something. No one else besides us, and I guess the third person, will know about it." He tried to convince her.

"It's not illegal but it is insane. Who did you even think would agree to something like this?" She crossed her arms, waiting to hear what brilliant idea he came up with.

"I was hoping one of the guys would be a willing-"

"No way! That'd be even more embarrassing! It already gets awkward whenever one of them accidentally walks around with no shirt on around me, how could I possibly look at them in the face after we fuck?"

Not willing to listen to her crazy boyfriend, Y/N picked up her bag and reminded him to drink lots of water before sauntering out of his room, waving goodbye to Seonghwa who was in the kitchen and leaving before Hongjoong made things more embarrassing for her. Slumping down on the kitchen table, Hongjoong had a huge pout on his face.

"Lover's quarrels?" His same age friend asked as he began rinsing the dishes.

"Something like that." Hongjoong sighed.

"Whatever it is, I'm sure you two will figure it out. One of you ends up giving in sooner or later." He assured him.

Seonghwa was indeed right. Even if either one of you said no at first, you'd always, always, end up giving in just to try something new. That thought made Hongjoong lighten up and he began to think more about how to put his plan in motion. Firstly, he needed to pick one of the members who not only would be comfortable doing something like that, but would match the needed sex appeal.

"Jongho is out of the question. He's never even dated anyone." Hongjoong began thinking, evaluating in his head all his possible candidates.

"Mingi isn't a good choice either, he already has a lot to deal with so I'm not even going to bother with him."

Hongjoong then thought about Yeosang. He was good looking, but the problem was Yeosang was extremely reserved, not to mention he and Y/N weren't very close to each other. It would be bad chemistry. And his roommate and best friend Wooyoung was a strict no.

"I already know that little brat has a little crush on my girlfriend. If anything letting him fuck her would be like giving a little kid a candy shop all to themselves. I need someone who has absolutely no romantic inclinations so afterwards everything can go back to normal."

Turning his head, Hongjoong scanned Seonghwa up and down. He seemed like a possible choice. He was tall, very handsome, he and Y/N got along very well, in fact he was the one closest to her besides him. He knew for a fact Seonghwa was not innocent or pure in the slightest bit. And he'd be very professional about it. It seemed there was no question about Seonghwa being the best candidate.

"Wait! But they're close. What if this plan backfires and I accidentally ruin their friendship?"

Hongjoong groaned as he realized this was proving to be a lot harder than he thought. His mind then thought about Yunho. Yunho would be perfect in the more erotic sense given his size. He was tall, lean but well built and with defined muscles. And it'd be pretty interesting to watch and see if his girlfriend would be able to take a monster cock like that cause Yunho was definitely packing a lot.

Getting up, Hongjoong seemed decided as he walked down the hallway to have a little chat with his favorite donsaeng. Just before he could knock on the door to his room, it actually opened by itself, or more like, someone else came out right at that moment. It was none other than San, whose recently dyed blonde hair was messy. His skin had somewhat of a glow to it even if he was suffering from a major hangover. He was completely shirtless, his honey abs looking amazing as usual. The sweatpants he was wearing were hanging low on him, the V line near his pelvis poking out. And to top off the visual, his nipples were sticking out due to the piercings that he had recently gotten, a naughty secret that he had kept well hidden for a while til Wooyoung ratted him out. Hongjoong had never actually seen them, but now that he did, a light bulb went off in his head.

"Hyung.....my head is killing me." San groaned loudly, one arm weakly holding him steady against the doorframe.

That tiny sound that came out of the younger male's mouth sealed the deal for Hongjoong. San was absolutely perfect.

"Sannie....... when you're feeling better, Hyung wants to talk to you about something."

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"You're looking especially lovely tonight my dear." Hongjoong looked at his girlfriend who was sitting patiently on her bed, wearing a cute off white two piece lingerie set.

"You always say things like that whenever I'm going to suck your dick." She pointed out, although it wasn't meant to be ill intended.

Hongjoong simply continued to have that suspicious smirk plastered on as he finished setting up the last camera, having placed several ones on different parts of the room to capture different angles of the scene that was about to take place in those 4 walls. On a small stand, he had already installed his laptop so he could monitor more closely all the shots being taken and to start or pause anything if needed. Glancing at the time, he knew it was only a matter of time before their guest arrived.

"You're taking awfully long for someone who was aching to get their dick wet." She snorted, wondering how on earth could Hongjoong be so calm and collected.

Hearing a knock on the door, Y/N raised an eyebrow as she was not expecting anyone, but it seemed Hongjoong wasn't fazed at all. He actually sprinted out of his seat in lighting speed to open the door.

"Yeah but it's not my dick that's getting wet." He sent her a wink.

Before she could even ask him what he meant, San was already being dragged inside the room. He too looked puzzled when he saw his older friend's girlfriend on the bed wearing something so daring.

"Wow! Ok! I take it I got here too early?" San asked as he covered up his face with his hands.

"No San, you're not early. You're right on time actually."

Slumping an arm around him, Hongjoong pulled him into the center of the room.

"He's the one getting his dick wet."

Once she realized what was happening, Y/N grabbed a pillow and chucked it at her scheming boyfriend.

"Kim Hongjoong! You liar! You told me that we were going to be filming a sex tape between ourselves!" She exclaimed.

"A what?!" A confused San shouted, now more embarrased than ever.

"I knew that if I told you both what I really wanted you here for neither of you would agree and would probably think I'm weird or something." Hongjoong tried to explain himself.

"Oh I don't think, I know you're weird, wanting one of your members and your girlfriend to fuck each other just so you could make a porn out of it."

San reddened furiously at her words, eyes looking everywhere but at Hongjoong or Y/N. By now he had already opted for just staying quiet as he listened to the couple banter back and forth amongst themselves.

"What made you think San, out of all people, would want to even touch me?"

That caught said man's attention.

"Wait, hold on. What's that supposed to mean?" He squinted at her, eyes narrowing into slits. Y/N could feel the immediate change in his demeanor.

"Well you know just that.....it's you we're talking about San. Do you know how many girls thirst over you? Why would you even bother looking at someone like me when you look like that?" She gestured at his body and face, trying to get her point across.

San felt somewhat offended by her statement. She made it out to be like he was superficial or that he only cared about looks. Moreover, he didn't like hearing her talk about herself in that way. Brushing past his Hyung, San came to stand in front Y/N, eyes peering down at her. Feeling the intensity of his stare bear down on her, especially given her state of near undress contrasting his full dressed self made her feel self conscious. When she tried to cross her arms to cover herself, San was having none of that as he suddenly gripped her wrists and held them in front of her face.

"And do you have any idea how many of us have checked you out even though we know that you belong to Hongjoong? Do you think some of us didn't feel bad when we found out he decided to take you for himself?"

His admittance not only shocked her but her boyfriend behind them, who had thought only one member had been disappointed when they announced that they were dating. Noticing her shocked expression, San leaned in and smiled at her innocently.

"Don't worry too much about me though, I was mostly disappointed at the fact that I might never get a chance to tap that cute ass of yours." He expressed with no hint of shame whatsoever. San drew his gaze down to fully look at her, admire her silhouette for the first time ever since he walked in the room.

"But now that I know Hyung wants someone to fuck his girlfriend...well.... it'd be my pleasure." He let out a low chuckle before pulling her against him, hands caressing the sides of her torso. Taking one of her hands, he brought it up to his face to place kisses on her palm. Turning to the man that was forgotten for a minute, San raised an eyebrow.

"Tell me right now if there's anything you definitely don't want me to do, otherwise I'm going to have my way with her as I like."

Hongjoong thought about it for a second, wondering if there was something he did not want.

"You're absolutely not allowed to leave hickeys on her. I don't mind you leaving red hand prints or even cumming inside her since that can be cleaned up or will fade in a coupe's hours."

Moving back to go sit on the chair next to the laptop, Hongjoong leaned back and stared at San with a warning glare.

"But I want absolutely nothing that will last for days. That's only for me to do."

San scoffed at how silly Hongjoong sounded, but nodded nonetheless. Meanwhile Y/N looked back and forth at their exchange with fascination. It was arousing hearing them talk about her as if she was nothing more than a mere sex object, and she was loving it.

"Oh and San? Remember I'm going to film this. Try to make it as interested as possible. I mean... if you can that is." Hongjoong smiled slyly, sending challenge to the younger member.

"Oh trust me. I'll fuck her like she's famous." San bragged.

Y/N watched as San began pulling his shirt over his head. Raking her eyes over his arms, abs and chest, they widened considerably when they saw the metal piercings on his nipples. One hand actually came to clasp around her open mouth, she was that surprised.

"Remember I told you not to baby him too much cause he's not actually a baby?" Hongjoong snickered at her reaction, actually finding it funny.

"Hey if it diverts attention from you, I don't care."

Pushing her back until they were right next to the bed, San cupped her face and leaned in, lips nearly kissing hers.

"Are you all right with this?" He wanted to get her consent before anything else.

Letting out a hum, Y/N wrapped her hands on the base of his neck.

"Fuck me like I'm famous." She repeated what he said before.

"Ok."

As soon as their bodies and mouths connected, Hongjoong's finger pressed record so as to not miss anything. Sitting back, he decided to enjoy the show, a satisfied smile on his face after seeing that everything had gone according to plan. Their lips molded perfectly against each other's, their makeout session rivaling those of some of the biggest and steamy ones they'd see on tv. Tracing the outline of his lips with her tongue, Y/N successfully managed to get San to allow her access into his mouth. Her tongue settled against his and vice versa, muffled humming adding to the intensity of their kiss. San couldn't keep his hands off her lower back, eventually placing them right on her ass. Hongjoong inwardly patted himself on the back as he had deduced before that San was more of an ass man and now he was getting confirmation of it as he watched his hands cup and harshly squeeze his girlfriend's cheeks.

Not wanting only him to have his fun, Y/N thought it would be a good idea to test just how sensitive his nipples were. Sliding a hand up his torso, it pressed itself onto one of his pecs. She grinned when San emitted a whimper in her mouth when she pinched on his nipple, making sure to twist some of the piercing around.

"Oh my-" San groaned when her mouth detached itself from his in order to give attention to his nipples. He was whining and whimpering each time her tongue flicked around his buds and letting out choked gasps when her teeth would softly tug at them.

"Enjoying your new toy?" Hongjoong piped up, reminding them both that they were being watched.

"Just as much as you're enjoying me wreck your girl." San spat back at him, hissing when he suddenly felt Y/N sucked onto one of his nipples.

"Please. I've barely seen any action yet."

Hearing his taunting words, San pushed Y/N onto her knees, bringing her face close to the tent in his pants. Tilting her chin up, he rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip.

"You have really pretty lips. All plump and pink.... I wonder how they'll look like if they're red, swollen and stuffed with my cock."

Making a quick work of his zipper, San pulled his jeans down along with his underwear, letting out his cock that was thick and well above average in length. Y/N licked her lips when she saw that the tip was glistening with precum that had dripped out when it was freed from its confinement. San was definitely bigger than Hongjoong, she wasn't going to deny that. She began to wonder if she could even fit that entire thing in her mouth, but she for sure wanted to try.

"I think the little cockslut is eager to suck you off San." Hongjoong sat up straighter in his seat, eyes focused on every detail in front of him.

"Is that right?"

Y/N exhaled softly when she felt San slap his cock against her cheek, running the tip on her cupid's bow.

"Go ahead. Just try and see if you can take me." He shot her a cocky grin.

Wanting to wipe that grin off his face, Y/N inserted the tip inside her mouth, keeping eye contact with San the entire time. She first tested the waters by slurping his head, indeed getting a reaction out of him since his thighs involuntarily shuddered. Feeling motivated, she slowly took more of him into her mouth, inch by inch he was slowly stuffing her full. Her cheeks hollowed out to help her fit him better, but still she gagged slightly when she felt him hit the back of her throat. Nevertheless she was proud of herself at being able to stuff his cock in her.

"Holy crap Y/N, are you trying to prove something?" Hongjoong stared in shock and arousal at seeing his significant other with another man's cock down her throat.

"Yeah, prove that she likes my cock better than yours." San gloated as he pulled her off his length only to stuff it back in and causing the female under him to let out a choked out gasp followed by a line of drool spilling onto the floor.

Grabbing her hair and pulling it up into a makeshift ponytail, San used it to keep her head up as he began a pattern of pulling out slowly only to force himself back inside her. He loved watching the messy scene in between his legs. Spit running down Y/N's chin, the corners of her eyes stained with tears, her muffled whines that were muted every time his shaft filled her mouth, the way his leader was sitting just a few feet away watching as his precious girlfriend was getting face fucked by someone else, San was enjoying it too much. His head was thrown back as he kept forcing his cock deep in her mouth, the loud slurping sounds of her swallowing around him complimenting the hisses and groans that were being exuded from his lips.

"Fuck! Oh my- are you ok with me cumming in your mouth?"

Judging by the way Y/N moaned around his organ and her hand cupped his balls to fondle them, San was taking that as a green light. Releasing her hair, he held onto the back of her head and pushed himself forcefully to and fro in her wet cavern, using it as leverage to help him reach his climax. Through shattered breath and clenched teeth, San's cum poured down her throat, hips stuttering and bucking further up to help him ride out his orgasm. When he pulled out, Y/N immediately gasped for air, her hair in complete disarray, lips darkened and wet with saliva.

"If that isn't one of the hottest images I've ever seen." Hongjoong added his input. He always did love seeing what a mess Y/N turned into after getting her pretty and delicate face fucked and abused.

Y/N smiled over at her boyfriend, looking at the tent in his pants before sending him a flirty wink accompanied by a swipe of tongue across her lips.

"You can suck him off after I'm done with you baby, but right now, I want you focused on me." San made her turn her attention back to him as he lifted her off the floor and set her on the edge of the bed. He showed no hesitation as he practically ripped her underwear off her body before tossing it behind him, making sure it landed on Hongjoong's lap.

"Jerk yourself off with that in the meantime cause you're not getting her back for a while."

Toying with the fabric in his hand, Hongjoong sneered at the younger male.

"Trust me, I have more self control than you'd think." He assured him.

"Let's see about that."

Getting down on his knees to be at eye level with her wet and shining folds, San dived in and began consuming her taste. His tongue moved languidly around her slit, savoring her taste on his tongue. Y/N's hands gripped and clutched the blanket underneath her, causing it to wrinkle up from how hard she was tugging at them. Her breath hitched whenever San gave all of his attention to her clit, sucking on the sensitive flesh until it began developing a slightly reddish tint. Her lips were also becoming engorged as San continued his assault on her mound, face practically buried inside her thighs. All throughout it, Hongjoong just took in every sharp intake of breath and every scrunched up expression Y/N made. It gave him joy to know she was definitely enjoying herself, her pleasure always been something he took into consideration.

"Good to see you know how to eat a girl out Sannie. I was afraid I was going to have to step in and show you why rapper are superior." He couldn't help himself but boast, after all, he had pride in being able to get a girl to cum multiple times with just his tongue.

Ignoring the older man's words, San gripped her thighs to hold her down. His tongue sped up as it slurped and slithered all over her heat, applying just enough pressure with his broad strokes across her labia folds. The girl on top of him tried to move his face away from her body as she felt the blood rushing down to her legs, face becoming heated as she knew she would burst any moment. She blamed Hongjoong for this, having spoiled and played around so much with her pussy that she was overly sensitive whenever she received oral sex. The fire pooling in her lower abdomen was about to explode.

"Ah! San- please!"

Muscles tightening and her upper body writhing, Y/N couldn't hold back as she began pumping out her orgasmic juices, her back falling back on the mattress while her mind blocked out anything that wasn't the immense feeling that was taking over her senses at the moment. San lapped up her juices generously, feeling smug about getting her to cum, although he knew it wouldn't be the only time she would be doing that. Sitting up, he allowed her to catch her breath and regain her senses before he continued with what he had in store.

Hongjoong looked with curiosity as San made Y/N sit back up and turned her over on all fours. Hongjoong couldn't stop the laugh that escaped his lips.

"You're gonna fuck her doggy style? Can't you be more creative?"

San didn't let his words deter him, he simply unclipped Y/N's bra and removed it from her body.

"I told you I was gonna fuck her like she's famous and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

His hands roamed across her body, caressing the curves and dips of her hips as he pressed his erection in between her ass cheeks. Y/N pushed her ass further back, impatient at the thought of having her hole filled up by him.

"See? Even she wants to be fucked like a little bitch in heat."

Y/N couldn't suppress the moan escaping her lips at being degraded like that.

"Wow, you're such a whore." Hongjoong mused when he heard her reaction.

"You offered this whore to your friend now suck it up and watch him pound my pussy." She giggled softly.

"Oh baby, I'm not just going to pound this pussy. I'm aiming to destroy it."

Lining himself against her hole, San slowly sunk his length deep into her walls. He felt as if he was being swallowed by her warmth that it took everything in him not to start fucking her right then. He made sure to give her time to adjust to his size.

"Hyung do you not fuck her enough? She's unbelievably tight and she feels too good." San grunted, dick twitching inside her as it ached for any sort of movement.

Hongjoong did not hide his displeased face.

"I fuck her quite often thank you very much."

San clicked his tongue in a cocky way.

"Whatever you say."

Y/N cried out in a high pitched tone when San suddenly pulled out only to plunge himself back into her. He set a merciless rhythm as his cock tore her walls open, stretching them as far as they could go, a stinging yet delicious burn heating her up. Strangled noises proceeded to spill forward from her throat mixing in perfectly with the sound of their skin smacking against each other. Shifting angles so his dick could hit against her g-spot every time it was shoved inside her, San's skin was already emitting that after sex glow, sweat beads forming on his temples. He looked completely focused, eyes trained on her ass cheeks that bounced with each of his thrusts. Unable to resist the urge, he brought one hand up so it could slap her skin.

"Oh s-shit!" She exclaimed, the force and unexpected smack on her bum nearly had her upper body collapsing on the bed.

"Can you smack her a little harder?" If Y/N wasn't so caught up with San fucking her so harshly, she would have noted the nearly sadistic tone in her boyfriend's voice.

"Just tell me if I can't take it baby." San caressed the patch of skin he had just slapped.

"Trust me, she can. She enjoys a little pain every now and then." Her boyfriend dished on that dirty little secret.

One slap was soon followed by several more. San made sure to alternate between each of her butt cheeks. Y/N's wailing began to get increasingly louder and frantic, her ass stinging every time San's hand smacked it, making a majority of it turn a deep red color. But he made sure that it wouldn't leave any bruising or anything of that sort remembering Hongjoong's previous rule.

"Damn you're so fucking loud."

The shocked gasp coming out her mouth was half muffled when San pushed her head against one of the pillows, effectively burying her loud mouth into the sheets.

"San didn't you said you'd fuck her like she's famous? Then why cover up her screaming?" Hongjoong pondered, one hand rubbing at the top of his thigh.

"Scream? You wanna really hear her scream?"

Yanking her back up from her hair, Y/N only managed to catch her breath for one second before she felt herself flipped onto her back. The intrusion of San's large cock was just as seering as the first one but it was welcomed nonetheless by her walls fluttering around his cock. One of her legs was thrown over his shoulder, his brutal pace heightening the build up in her stomach. Her fleshy mound was extremely swollen and had a pinkish red tint to it. Knowing how vulnerable she was, San licked his fingers before taking them out of his mouth only to have them come down on her clit.

"Oh-oh fuck!" Y/N threw her head back on the pillow, eyes shut tight with tears staining the corners of them as she felt slap after slap on her throbbing and pulsating pussy.

"You like that you little whore? Yes you do, you clench around me every time I do this." San smirked when he placed one final blow on her tender flesh that was responsive to any of his touches.

Y/N was starting to see white flashes of light in her vision, unable to hear or feel anything that wasn't the grazing inside her wetness. With whimpered crying, her arms and upper body writhed uncontrollably as San's hips continued jolting up into her, shaky breaths and pants keeping her from forming any coherent words as her juices poured out of her body. Feeling her heat cover him completely, San trailed not far behind her as his cock twitched and his seed painted her insides.

"Ah fuck!"

He jerked himself until he made sure to fill her to the brim, not satisfied until he had spurted out the last drop of cum he had in him to release. When he pulled out of her hole, he let out a groan of accomplishment as the white and milky like secretion seeped out of her hole, some of it glistening against her folds.

"You capturing that well Hyung?" San turned to Hongjoong.

"Oh trust me, it's all coming out beautifully." He answered as he looked at the computer screen, fingers working unbelievably quick to make sure to save the raw video in his files.

Getting up to go clean himself up on the bathroom, San picked up his clothes that were discarded on the floor. Before he could walk out the door, he was about to ask Y/N if she wanted to join him but she was already busying herself by kneeling in front of her boyfriend.

"Aren't you going to get cleaned up?"

Humming softly as she began undoing Hongjoong's belt, Y/N replied with a mischievous smile.

"Maybe later. Right now I gotta take care of my handsome man, after all, he's been sitting here with a hard ass boner." She chuckled as his dick sprang free.

"God, I love you so much baby."

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prettytoxicrevolver · 3 years

Text

I Love You | Quackity

Requested? No but I did

Warnings? None just really wholesome and chaotic Quackity

Summary: You tell Alex you love him for the first time

Word Count: 1,653

“WE POPPIN OFF CHAT!!” Alex yells excitedly and you giggle from his bedroom upstairs.

Your boyfriend Alex was going to be streaming practically all night long. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence for him to be streaming and playing video games with his friends all night while you relax in his room.

You often turned on his stream, listening to your rambunctious boyfriend scream to his friends about god knows what and thanking fans for various subs and gifts. Tonight, he was playing Five Nights at Freddy with George and Karl, and then George picked skribbl.io, and then Karl was going to host Jackbox.

You never mind Alex streaming as much as he did, Alex loved streaming and he always left you laughing for hours. Not only that, his friends were your friends so you loved listening to them as well. It closed the distance you all were feeling incredibly these days.

You hear Alex thank his chat for subs for a bit and just as he greets George and Karl into the stream, you decide to try and get some work done. You and Alex were both still in school, working on your respective majors, and had millions of little study sessions together.

You loved spending time sat across from each other on the couch, work spread out around you, and neither of you doing any of your homework for long. Whether it be Alex getting distracted, sitting on his phone for a bit before coming to bother you, nudging his face into your neck.

Or, you get distracted. Flopping yourself down into your boyfriend's embrace as he giggles cutely, running a hand through your hair before kissing you softly.

You both did get your work done though, helping each other to push through difficult finals and assignments. You were always there for each other.

Tonight you were focused on an important essay that was due in the next few days. You were hoping to get a good portion done while Alex was streaming but it was proving to be difficult without your boyfriend but also with your boyfriend streaming.

As you finish your first page of the night, you check in on the stream, watching George yell loudly at Alex to press the button in FNaF. You giggle lightly as the boys continue and you decide to leave it on as you continue to mindlessly write your ideas hoping they sound somewhat coherent for when you go back to edit them.

As you type, your phone suddenly dings with Alex’s text tone and your eyes scan the text. He tells you to come downstairs and your head tilts in confusion as you hear him over stream tell Dream to repeat the same thing over again.

“Let’s just play GTA,” Dream responds and Alex and George gasp dramatically. You roll your eyes as you know exactly what Alex is getting at so you head downstairs before anything happens.

When you knock on the door to Alex’s streaming room, his face lights up at the sight of you.

“Babe!” Alex greets before turning and making grabby hands at you.

You make your way over to him and he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into frame. You wave to the camera and listen as you’re greeted by the boys.

“Baby? Ask Dream what he just said.”

“Dream what did you just say?” you ask now confused that Alex and George are harping on the same question.

“We’re gonna play GTA,” Dream repeats uncertainly.

Alex presses play on something and suddenly his voice starts to play over the speakers. Your smile widens and you start to laugh uncontrollably as Alex stands and stretches his arms wide.

“Where are the askers my friend?” Alex sings over the speakers and you’re on the ground laughing as your boyfriend chants excitedly knowing he got Dream.

“WOOO!!! NOBODY ASKED!!” The boys yell and Dream is silent making you cackle even harder.

“Baby thank you for the help,” Alex says helping you up and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

“Glad to be of service. And Dream, nobody asked,” you mention before leaving the room.

“That’s my baby!! Dream! Dream!” you hear Alex yelling as you exit the room.

You giggle uncontrollably as you head back upstairs and sit down at your desk. Moments like those, practically any moment spent with Alex reminds you why you’ve fallen head over heels for the energetic boy.

He kept you on your toes constantly, you never knew what was going to happen next whether it be him streaming, you two studying, out in public, whatever. His intense personality kept you entranced and you loved that.

You loved that he was sweet to you. He was known for his loud voice and meme culture but with you it was soft touches, sweet words, encouraging smiles. Every little thing made you fall in love.

Neither of you had said it to each other despite being in a relationship for over 6 months. You felt it in the deepest part of your heart all the way through your body whenever you were around Alex and you knew he felt it too. You weren’t scared that Alex wasn’t going to say it back, but you were nervous to say it first.

A few hours pass as you continue to work and get over halfway done with your paper when you decide to check in on stream and take a break overall. You stand, stretching a bit before grabbing a sip of water and heading out to the kitchen for a snack.

When you’re back in Alex’s room at his desk, you realize that it’s almost 2:30 am and everything is starting to wear on you. You definitely needed to get some sleep but you were almost finished with this paper and you knew you could finish it tonight and get some sleep the next day.

As Karl’s stream now plays in the back and you listen for your boyfriend’s voice, your smile widens hearing him talk and yell with his friends.

The boys had just finished their first game of quiplash and Alex was starting to worry about his girlfriend. He knew you worked yourself to the bone most days and he wanted to make sure you were taking breaks or at the very least heading to bed soon after writing practically all night.

“Boys I’ll be right back,” he tells the guys before dipping from his setup.

When he gets upstairs, the scene before Alex is nothing short of adorable. There you were, Karl’s stream still playing in the background as you snoozed lightly on your hands.

Alex smiles at the sight, heart filling up with love instantly as he walks over to you. He grabs your phone first, turning it off before working on cleaning up the rest of your stuff surrounding you.

Once finished cleaning up, Alex bends down till he’s looking up at you. He places a hand on your knee, shaking you awake lightly and you groan in response.

“C’mere beautiful,” he says.

Alex maneuvers you so you’re facing him before pulling your arms around his shoulders. When you have a good enough grip on him, he wraps his hands around the back of your thighs and lifts, pulling your legs around his waist and his chest is flush with yours.

You snuggle into his warm embrace and while he takes a second to steady himself, he places a kiss to your temple. He finally moves, walking over to his bed and carefully places you upon it, and wraps you up in the blankets.

“I’ll be back up soon,” he whispers, pressing another kiss to your head.

“Alex, I love you,” you tell him sleepily.

Alex stops dead in his tracks, his heart beating a million miles a minute. He had loved you the minute he heard your laugh. The second you had said a word to him. He couldn’t believe you had told him you loved him first. It was perfect for the two of you.

“I love you too baby.”

He leans down, gripping your chin lightly before pressing a kiss to your lips that’s basically all smiles from the both of you. Alex giggles, unable to contain his happiness as he leans down, pressing kisses all over your face and you return the same laugh and try to squirm away from his touch but to no avail.

“I love you so much,” he says again before kissing you.

He practically runs back downstairs, wanting to scream at the top of his lungs that you had just said I love you but when he gets back to stream, all he can do is smile.

“Quackity?” Karl asks noticing the younger boy is back but hasn’t said a word.

“You alright?” George asks knowing something's up.

“She told me she loved me,” Alex says in a dreamlike state.

“(y/n)?” Karl asks.

“She told me she loved me,” Alex repeats again like it’s the only thing he’s gonna be able to say or think about for the rest of his life.

“Oh my god!” Karl yells

“Congratulations!” Sykkuno responds sweetly and in between the noise, Alex realizes he needs to go be with his girl.

“Hey guys? I gotta go,” he continues.

“Go get her!” Karl yells.

Alex signs off, shutting everything off quickly before racing back upstairs. He finds you still half asleep on the bed and his heart melts all over again.

“Baby!” he yells before running and jumping into bed.

He partially lands on you, making you groan in response but when he pulls you into his embrace, laying on top of him and you see him beaming up at you, you know you’re the reason he’s hyper tonight.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you.”

“You know I’m gonna say that all the time now right?” he asks.

“I hope so.”

#quackity #quackity imagine #dream smp #dream smp imagine #twitch #imagine #bravebesson

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haikyuuu-r-us · 4 years

Note

Erm okay so I don't usually do asks fr like that but may I please ask Alpha waka and omega reader. I saw you did omegaverse idk but yeah. Maybe fluff it not idk whatever works with you 🥺🥺👉🏽👈🏽🥺😳

Pt.2: https://haikyuuu-r-us.tumblr.com/post/625551637967175680/unofficial-game-alpha-ushijima-wakatoshi-x

Hell yeah, I do omegaverse, girl that's my JAAAM thanks for asking! <3

Edit: This is now titled- 'Unofficial Game' and this is pt. 1 ❤️

- Its no surprise that Ushijima Wakatoshi of Shiratorizawa was an incredible alpha. He was agile and strong. He was the Ace and also the Captain of his team.

- He was an Alpha.

- His team was highly regarded and respected. His team respected him highly. By some, he was considered a prodigy.

- Every move he made was calculated to bring him closer to his goal, no distractions allowed.

- He had a goal and he was hell-bent on reaching it.

-It's no surprise to your fellow students to find that you were an omega. You were rather meek and shy. You kept to yourself on the best of days and purposefully isolated yourself on worse ones.

- You were an omega.

- You had few friends though none went to school here. You were accepted into the school due to exceptional grades and recommendations. The school was seeking to expand into the arts, and in that aspect, you were an excellent starting point.

- You won medals in competitions. Never landing below third. You never cared for your medals. In your eyes, it was all subjective. Not to mention you had never been extremely competitive anyhow.

- you only desired to see your skills grow and to inspire others to follow their own dreams.

Essentially, the two of you never should have met, be in any sort of friendship let alone a relationship. The differences were too large, the first years would say. If only they were privy to how you met.

"Wah?? So you're the new transfer student?" You glanced up from the hallways tiled flooring to search for the voice. When he waved at you and began to jog towards you with a lazy grin marking his features, you slunk back into your oversized school jacket.

"Yeah...uhm, haha, that's me." You tucked your hair behind your ear nervously. 'He's an alpha.' Although his scent was a weird one, you found his constant seeking you out every morning just to say hi rather endearing. It'd be lying to say you didn't form an itty bitty crush on him at the beginning of your friendship.

As time went on he became your guide, and a strong brother-like figure to you, showing you parts of the school you had been too nervous to explore by yourself and encouraging you to take pictures when you asked if it was allowed. You were inspired by what you were seeing, you absolutely had to have a reference for later. He continued to guide you, most definitely spinning false and grandeur stories about how each place came to be. He didn't need to be right, it made you laugh and it kept you interested; You stayed interested even when you got to how the gym was built by angels who deemed volleyball a holy sport above all others.

"Liar." You giggled, covering your mouth with your hand as tears sprang to your eyes at his overdramatic antics. "WHAT? Omega-chaaan! I would never, E V E R! Lie to you!" He shook his head furiously and wagged a finger in your face. He was about to start again but a calm voice interrupted.

"Oh, there you are. Coach wants to start early with practice." The beta had blonde hair and a bored look on his face.

"Aw, what? That’s bull- wah! Omega-chan come watch me practice!" He cried waving his arms frantically as you thought it over.

"I dunno," you eyed the beta male wearily.

"It's perfect yeah? See, you can practice the Anatoly of us while we play!"

"I think you mean anatomy-"

"Yeah, same thing!"

"I don't even know what that other thing is- stop pushing I'm going, 'Tori!"

He ushered you in and motioned towards the bleachers. He was right you supposed. This would be a good way to practice.

At you were good at being a wallflower and despite the beta male who ignored your presence, you found yourself comfortable knowing that Tendou would step in should someone give you any issues.

Wakatoshi stretched quietly in the changing room. Nodding silently at Tendou when he entered and quickly, as though someone was going to give him a medal, stripped himself of his school uniform and into slightly more comfortable training clothes. He was being sloppy and nearly tripping when he pulled his shorts up.

His brow quirked down but he said nothing, figuring it was more nonsense from the Guess Monster.

He left the changing room and just as he began to walk over to the storage closet to grab the volleyballs, a new scent filled his senses. Though unnoticed to himself and the other Alpha and betas around him, his pupils dilated ever so slightly.

His head turned from the handle of the closet to assess the gym. There was an omega here. He could smell her. Somewhere, he raked his gaze across the room and a slight shift of fingers was all it took to have his gaze latch onto you like a magnet to a fridge.

Your form was small. Knees up to your chest with a book resting on top of them. A pencil clenched in between your fingers. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. Your chosen seat was high up in the bleachers, hidden ever so slightly behind support that jutted out of the wall.

He breathed in your scent slowly, allowing the warm sweet scent to roll over his palette. His pupils dilated and adjusted, connecting the sight of you to your soothing scent.

Omega.

He didn't realize he was making his way closer to you until his body was faced with the prospect of climbing up the bleachers. This time when his gaze landed on you, wide, doe-like orbs stared back. Quickly almost fearfully, your body tensed and you looked away.

Knows her place.

He narrowed his gaze in a challenging way. Who let you into the gym? Omegas were most definitely not allowed at any other time than official games. They potentially could be major distractions at the very least. You shifted nervously, and your fingers flipped through a few pages.

Her fingers were shaking.

"Ne~Omega-chan you have to watch!"

Of course, it had been Tendou. Of course, he would let in an omega.

He turned away, ignoring your presence, for now, Tendou would cause mayhem otherwise, especially if he thought you'd be forced to leave.

The game went well. In fact, Tendou was most definitely showing off the entire time, calling out for your praise and attention.

Though he didn't find himself drowning in curiosity, he still listened closely when Semi asked Tendou about the shy omega.

"That your omega, 'Tori?" That was a new nickname.

"Nah, she’s my friend! She's shy and stuff so I don't think she had anyone else. She looked lonely so ' voila '!"

"You're supposed to form friendships through common interests and tastes-"

Tendou stared in confusion. Semi sighed and rubbed his temples. Reon and Goshiki piped up out of curiosity helping to explain exactly what Semi meant.

Lakatos didn't bother to hear the rest. Instead, he went to join the first years in the gym, supervising them to ensure they didn’t fool around instead of cleaning. While they scrambled to gather everything up he searched for the omega, despite her lingering scent, he saw nothing. Then again, before he could complete his scan, a volleyball rolled and bumped into his ankle.

He kneeled and picked it up, testing the pressure in his hands. He was about to toss the ball back to the first year who dropped it, but he caught sight of you from his peripheral, and before he even fully realized why his inner alpha commanded him to do it, he found himself lining up to set.

Throw. Run. Jump. Slam the ball. Hard. Harder than needed. Put force into it. Strongest Alpha. The strongest.

His knees bent when he landed. The echo of the ball landing was still reverberating throughout the gym, the air was thick with unknown tension and no first-year dared to speak. The ball slowly rolled back towards him, and once more he picked it up. Except for this time he turned and handed the ball to the kid that dropped it. Instinctually his gaze searched for your face among the first years who know were shutting everything down.

You were looking at him too. The moment he locked eyes with your own, you shot your gaze downwards to stare at your feet.

She's respectful.

Slowly and shakily staring at the other third years locking up, you gave a weak chuckle and muttered softly, "uhm, so I'm assuming you're the captain?"

The moment you shifted your gaze back his spine straightened further and his chest puffed out slightly. Unnoticeable to anyone but himself. You were... Affecting him.

"Indeed." His eyes drifted across your form. He was never one to really notice omegas despite being an Alpha male himself and having plenty of fangirls, he never really, truly noticed any of them. He especially never bothered to assess their form like he was currently doing to you. His eyes slid to your face again, watching as your lips moved as you spoke, the words barely processing.

Her scent.

After receiving no answer to Tendou's whereabouts you glanced at his face again, though with more caution this time.

Her eyes.

Little did you know, the way your eyes peeked at him beneath your lashes, the way your brows pinched together and especially the way your lips parted in concern, all were sending his Alpha into a tailspin. His heart began to steadily beat faster, the same tempo would beat before a good matchup.

It was only the snicker from his right-hand side that brought him out of it.

Tendou.

"Don't worry about him omega-chan! He's just dense." You laughed nervously attempted to shift the attention back to Tendou instead of yourself.

That's right, you were there for Tendou.

He realized late that night, before he went to bed, that the real reason his Alpha demanded that one spike, the real reason his adrenaline couldn't seem to leave him be, even hours later, that his Alpha was proving to you, convincing you really, he, Waktoshi Ushijima, was the strongest. He was the captain. The Ace. His breaths picked up slightly when he recalled the way your lips formed the word 'captain'.

All he knew now was that he wanted you to call him 'alpha' next.

(Looks like I got a bit carried away with this one lol)

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#ushiwaka #ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima hcs #xreader #haikyuuxreader #omegaverse #haikyuu omegaverse #Alpha/beta/omega dynamics #alphawakatoshi #omega reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics x reader #alpha/beta/omega verse #alpha/omega #alpha/beta/omega au #alpha/beta/omega dynamics

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4stars-uswnt · 3 years

Text

My Muse, My Valentine [Christen Press x Reader]

requested by anon: Not sure if you’re accepting any request but can you write a cp x photographer gf where her gf surprised her at man u, like her gf secretly transfer there to be with cp. Thanks

A/N: please ignore some of the inconsistencies this story has with reality :) but anyways... hope you enjoy and have a happy Valentine’s Day (tomorrow) and remember it’s a day about LOVE, whether that be romantic, platonic, familial, or self ❤️

“I’m gonna miss you,” you whine, as you watch your girlfriend pack her suitcase.

“I know, babe. I’m gonna miss you too, so much.” Christen leans down to quickly peck your lips, before continuing to fold her clothes.

You and Christen had been dating for almost three years now, having met after you’d photographed one of the USWNT’s matches. You instantly felt an attraction to the curly-haired forward, your camera always drifting towards her wherever she was on the pitch.

After you’d posted a couple of your photos on your Instagram, which Christen made a point to like and repost, you gathered up the courage to approach her after a game, and thus began your relationship.

With yours and Christen’s busy schedules, it was sometimes hard to find time for each other, but you made it work, sharing an apartment in Portland during the offseason and flying out for matches when you could. But being a sports photographer did have its benefits, as your work often led you to spending more time with your girlfriend and admiring her speed down the field and score goals.

But now, with the pandemic, as the NWSL was struggling to field games, you found yourself with little work. Christen herself was not quite satisfied with the league’s plan for the season, so when Tobin proposed the idea of going to the WSL, she desperately wanted to, yearning to get back on the pitch.

At first, when Christen approached you with the subject, you immediately opposed, not wanting to be so far from your girlfriend for such a long amount of time. Additionally, with COVID, it would be nearly, if not completely, impossible for you to visit. But after a blowout fight and discussing it further, you realized that this is what would be best for Christen and her career.

“Do you have to go?” You pout, sitting up and moving to the end of the bed.

“You know I do, (Y/N/N).” Christen playfully rolls her eyes.

“Humph.”

“Babe, come on, don’t make me feel worse about leaving you.”

“Then don’t,” you quip, grabbing your girlfriend by the waist, pulling her down on the bed with you.

“Babe!” Christen squeals, as you blow raspberries into her skin.

You lift your head from the crook of her neck, your eyes locking with hers. “I know that you have to go,” you admit seriously. “Doesn’t mean I like it, but I know that this is what’s best for your career.”

“Thank you, (Y/N),” she says earnestly, giving you a small smile. “We’ll text and FaceTime everyday.”

“I’m holding you to that.” You cup her face and bring her in for a kiss, savoring the feeling of her soft lips on yours. “I also know that you’re gonna kill it over there in Manchester. The WSL isn’t gonna know what hit them.”

Christen ducks her bashfully, a small blush arising on her cheeks. “You know I love you, right?”

“Of course, Chris. I love you, too.”

“Good.” She gives you a quick peck, as she gets up from the bed. “Now, either quit bothering me or help me. My flight is early tomorrow morning, and I haven’t even finished packing.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

—————

It had been a little over five months since you’d dropped Christen off at the airport and she left for Manchester. Despite the constant texting and the nightly FaceTime calls, you couldn’t help but ache for your girlfriend. Without her, the apartment was lonelier and the bed felt bigger.

It had helped that your work had started back up, first with some freelance work and then with the NWSL fall series starting, which gave you something to do and kept you fairly busy.

Currently, you were sitting at the kitchen counter, sipping on a cup of coffee, as you edited some photos for the Thorns. Just as you were saving your work and closing Lightroom, about to shut your computer, a ping alerts a new email in your inbox.

Switching tabs, you notice the message is from an unfamiliar address, so you presume it’s a new client. You click and open it, your eyes widening, as you scan the email:

Ms. (Y/L/N),

I noticed your professional portfolio through many referrals, particularly your work form the World Cup. I am writing on behalf of the BBC News Media Centre, and we’re looking for an excellent sports photographer to join the team, specifically to cover the FA Women’s Super League and the Premier League.

Your experience is outstanding, adn your work speaks for itself. I think you’d be a great fit for this role, and I’d love to tell you more about it and hear more from you.

Would you like to set up a phone or Zoom call soon? If so, let me know when you’re available.

Best,

Charles Smith

Director of Media Relations at BBC Sport

You quickly reread the email, and then reread it again, just to make sure you’re not dreaming. This was too good to be true. But you shake yourself out of your stupor and quickly type out a response to set up a phone call as soon as possible.

After hitting send, you shut your computer with excitement and throw your hands up in the air.

“Yes!” You exclaim into the empty apartment, as you throw your fist in the air and jump off the barstool.

Knowing you needed to distract yourself, otherwise you’d just be staring at your computer, eagerly awaiting the response, you decided to go on a run.

Jogging through the city, you think of your girlfriend and your potential reunion if this job offer worked out. You decided that if you did in fact take this position, you’d surprise Christen at one of her matches, hopefully one that you’d be able to photograph.

As soon as you arrive back in your apartment, you make a beeline for your laptop. You anxiously open your inbox and beam when you see Charles had replied to set up a Zoom call at 9:30 tomorrow morning. You excitedly type out pleasantries, telling him you’re looking forward to it.

For the rest of the afternoon, you were in an increasingly good mood. So later that evening, when Christen called you for your routine FaceTime, she could tell something was up.

“Why do you keep smiling like that?”

“Can I not be happy to talk to my girlfriend?” You tease, a huge grin plastered onto your face.

“You can,” Christen trails off, not quite believing you. “But you have the weird giddy look you get when something’s up?”

“Nothing’s up. Just had a good day,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“Okay,” the forward accepts, still eyeing you suspiciously. “Anyways, you know She Believes is in a couple weeks, are you working the tournament?”

“Yup,” you nod and make a mental note to mention that to Charles tomorrow.

The two of you continue updating each other, chatting about topics ranging from what you had for breakfast that day to re-inc’s upcoming drop.

“Alright,” Christen yawns. “I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

You check your phone and see it’s 5:37 pm, meaning it’s almost midnight in Manchester.

“Okay,” your eyes softening at the sight of your sleepy girlfriend. “Good night, Chris. I love you.”

“Love you, too, babe. G’night.”

After ending the call and shutting your laptop, you head into the kitchen to make some dinner for yourself, getting on with your evening.

—————

The next morning, you anxiously await for Charles to begin the Zoom call, nervously bouncing your knee and biting your lip.

“Hi, (Y/N),” Charles greets, his face appearing on your screen.

“Good morning. Or rather good afternoon?” You correct with a light chuckle, to which he reciprocates.

“Well, as you know from my email, we are looking for a photographer to join our team, and from many referrals, you seem to be a very good candidate,

“So, I was thinking maybe we could look at your portfolio really quickly and then hash out the logistics to see if this is something that could work out.”

“Sounds good,” you agree, as you pull up some of your best pictures and share your screen.

The two of you look through your photos, many from the 2019 World Cup, some of the Olympics, and a few from random NWSL games.

“Well, (Y/N), your work is quite impressive. If you’re ready, and you’re seriously interested in this position, we can talk specifics, scheduling, all that good stuff,” Charles offers.

“I’m definitely interested, but can I just preface by saying that my girlfriend is a major part of this decision, so depending on what she wants to do at the end of the season will impact my contract.”

“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows, clearly not expecting your candor. “Your girlfriend plays in the WSL?”

“Yeah, well, technically only for this season. Her contract is up in May,” you explain.

“(Y/N), to be completely frank, we’re looking to hire because a couple of our photographers had some personal issues due to COVID and had to leave mid-season,” Charles reveals. “So if it turns out that your girlfriend wants to go back to the NWSL, then we can work that out. And if she wants to stay, and you end up liking it here and you fit in well, we can also work that out. We’re pretty flexible.”

You sigh in relief, giving him a small smile. “Wow, thank you so much. So what would my contract look like?”

“Well, we can sign you to three month contract with the option for extension,” he offers, as you nod along enthusiastically.

“That sounds great,” you exclaim, beaming. “And just to let you know, I’ve already signed on to work the She Believes tournament from the 18th to the 21st.”

“That actually aligns with the WSL’s international break, and there are a couple Premier League matches that weekend, but I think we can manage, so that shouldn’t be an issue.”

“You guys are too kind and so flexible. I really appreciate it so much,” you say earnestly.

“It’s really just us being desperate for a good photographer,” Charles jokes.

“Either way, I’m grateful for this opportunity.”

“We’re excited for you to join our team,” he reciprocates. “So, in terms of when you’ll begin, I honestly would like you to come over as soon as possible so that you can get settled and get acclimated.”

“I am honestly ready to start whenever you’ll have me.”

“How about next week? The Manchester Derby is on Friday, and honestly, given your portfolio, I’d love you to photograph that match,” the British man admits.

“That’s perfect!” You were in complete awe of how perfectly everything was working out. Photographing a Man United match as your first job meant you could surprise Christen, maybe as an early Valentine’s gift.

“Great,” Charles smiles.

The two of you discuss and finalize your contract and the logistics of you starting the job. Once everything’s settled and you each have the information you need, you wrap up the call.

“Well, thank you so much, Charles, for this offer, and I can’t wait to see you next Tuesday.”

“I can’t wait to work with you and meet you. See you next week. Cheers.”

After ending the Zoom call, you begin to make a COVID test appointment, book your flight, and arrange your hotel room for the few days that Christen doesn’t know you’re there, preparing yourself for moving across the world.

—————

After landing in London, getting settled into your hotel, and meeting with the BBC team and the other photographers, you were now on your way to the Manchester Derby.

In the back of the black cab, you pull out your phone to text a good luck text to Christen.

It was difficult to keep your surprise a secret, especially when you were actually in England, because it was much more difficult to FaceTime without her noticing your change in setting. You had to make up the excuse that you were swarmed with editing and preparing for the upcoming Thorns trainings.

As you pull up to the Academy Stadium, you hear your phone ding.

Chris ❤️

Thanks babe. Miss and love you 😘

You quickly type out a response, before heading into the building.

(Y/N/N) 💗

Love you too. I miss u too but go kick butt.

The match was exhilarating. Not only were you a sports photographer, but you were also a huge fan of the game, enjoying a good game when you see one.

You watched in awe, the level and style of play significantly different from than NWSL. While snapping hundreds of photos of both teams, your camera would always somehow land back on your girlfriend.

Your heart ached for the curly-haired forward, as you missed her dearly. Until you saw her back on the pitch, you hadn’t really realized that you missed watching her play the game that she’d mastered, her movements around the pitch and on the ball effortless and elegant.

As the ref blew the whistle, signaling the end of the half, you scroll through some of the photos you’d taken, deleting some of the blurry and unfocussed ones.

A smile immediately forms on your face when you see a picture of Christen during warmups with a huge grin on her face. You spend all of halftime editing said photo and putting together an Instagram post for your girlfriend.

About fifteen minutes later, the teams take the pitch and you go back to doing your job. Throughout the second half, you could tell that Christen was getting increasingly frustrated, her team getting down 3-0 with only about five minutes left.

You watch as the players high five and hug each other, and you want nothing more than to run onto the field to be with your girlfriend, but you had a plan to stick to.

As the team goes back into the locker room, you pull out your phone to post a photo on Instagram and then you shoot a quick text to Tobin:

(Y/N)🤓:

toby go check out my ig post :))

Back in the Man United locker room, after Casey went through her post match speech, Tobin checks her phone and sees a text from you. The injured forward playfully rolls her eyes at your message but follows your directions.

Upon opening the social media app, Tobin raises her eyebrows, her eyes widening. She glances across the room to see if her best friend had seen your post, but Christen was minding her own business, changing into sweats after her shower.

“Chris!” The older forward calls over to the other woman. “Have you seen your girlfriend’s Instagram post?”

Christen furrows her brows in confusion. “What? No, what is it?”

Tobin waves her friend over and shows her the post:

Liked by mrapinoe, ashlynharris24, and 638,231 others

yourusername: My muse, my valentine.

“As I sat and looked at her

and the rolling hills she sat upon

I thought,

what amazing luck I have

that the world had created

such beautiful things

and given me the eyes to see them.”

- atticus

tagged: christenpress

- - - - -

mrapinoe: Stunning pictures, (Y/N). Love you guys 💖

alikrieger: These photos are 🔥🔥🔥🔥

alexmorgan13: love this 😍😍

cdunn19: Beautiful!

glennondoyle: Love love love love this!!

ashlynharris24: Holy shit! Are you in Manchester????

↳lavellerose: Was this today??

↳sammymewyy: Oh my gosh it was!

↳kellyohara: Valentine’s Day surprise for Pressy?? 👀

Christen zooms in on the photo in the center, her eyes widening when she realizes that it is from today’s match.

“How did she get that picture?”

Tobin mentally slaps her forehead at her friend’s denseness. “Knowing (Y/N), she probably took it.”

“But that’s impossible. She’s in the States,” Christen states and shakes her head, dumbfounded.

“Actually,” you speak up, stepping into the locker room, deciding to make your presence known. “I’m right here.”

“(Y/N)?” Your girlfriend looks up at you, her mind in a state of shock.

“Hey, love,” you greet shyly.

Once her mind caught up with reality, Christen runs and jumps into your body, kissing you passionately but briefly and wrapping you into a bone crushing hug.

“I can’t believe your here,” she whispers into your neck. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, babe, so much.”

Unwrapping herself from the hug, Christen stares at you in awe. “What… how are you here?”

“We can talk about that later,” you give her another quick kiss. “But right now, I just wanna spend time with you. Maybe we can grab some dinner? You can show me around Manchester, considering I’m gonna be spending a lot of time here.”

Your girlfriend looks at you puzzled, but you just give her a wink with a small smirk on your face.

“Well, c’mon lets get out of here.”

—————

Back at Christen’s apartment, the two of you sit down for a nice and casual, but romantic, dinner you’d prepared along with a bottle of red wine.

After catching up, the forward finally decides to address the elephant in the room. “So how are you here? What’s going on, (Y/N/N)? You said earlier that you’d be spending a lot of time in Manchester, what does that mean? I’m so confused. Not that I’m grateful that you’re here right now and that I get to see you, but I thought you were working She Believes, and—“

“Chris,” you cut off your girlfriend’s endearing rambling. “Babe, you’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” she blushes, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I got a job with BBC Sport till the end of the season,” you answer her parade of questions.

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

You nod, while taking a sip of your water. “It means I’m yours if you’ll have me.”

Not having the adequate words to express her joy and excitement, Christen gets up from her chair, walks over to sit in your lap, and connects you lips for a searing kiss.

“I can’t believe you,” she breathes, rubbing her nose against yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you quickly peck her lips while rubbing circles on her hip. “But as much as I love you and all this romance, we gotta get going soon.”

Your girlfriend tilts her head in confusion.

“Do the words ‘She Believes’ ring a bell?” You tease. “If I remember correctly, our flight leaves in a couple hours.”

“You’re coming with me?” Christen asks, her brain trying to wrap around the fact that her girlfriend, who she hadn’t seen in almost five months, would now be living with her in England and flying back to the States with her for the next week.

“Of course, Chris,” you give her a cheeky smile, along with a kiss to her nose, as you quote a book Becky had convinced the whole team to read. “You should know by now that I’d follow you anywhere. You’re the only good thing left in this world.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #christen press x reader #christen press imagine #christen press imagines #uswnt #christen press

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