#Got work at a place I like with good colleagues. Got in contact with two people from my past again
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mrfoox · 1 year ago
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2023 has been... A year... Like a.... Like wow I.. Oh a year huh... A year
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rallentando1011 · 7 months ago
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certain ineffable things
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(rise Donnie x touch starved gn reader - little bit of angst, mostly fluff) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lazy circles drawn on hips.
Tender pats on the shoulder or head, conveying much more than mere words.
Nudges of encouragement or of endearment or at least conveying that someone else was there.
Various affectionate displays - all luxuries experienced in the most painfully infrequent intervals.
 At least, they were to you.
Home definitely wasn’t the place to be seeking out stuff like that - your upbringing had all but made certain of that - nor was anywhere with your colleagues or friends. Any time anyone so much as got near, your skin seemed to crawl and spine shivered and-
In short, it seemed an endeavor destined to fail.
That wasn’t to say you didn’t like it. The physical contact part, that was; the yearning and all that was inarguably awful.
But the occasional touch or elbow rub or hug just absolutely made you melt. Only when you felt like it though. And normally only when you initiated it. And typically only with a certain purple clad significant other-
A hand grasped onto yours.
You snapped back to the present, sitting in Donnie’s lab where you’d been idly passing him tools and utensils as needed and he’d been discarding them back into your palm, and where a misunderstanding where each of you thought the other to be passing them something and extended two empty hands made quite the startling connection of the two.
“Sorry!” Your hand retracted as if repulsed by his. “Sorry.”
He jolted on his own accord before looking over at you. “You alright?”
“Are you?”
Donnie blinked. “You shuddered as if I transferred a few thousand volts which, considering my current field of experimentation, is feasible. Did I do something wrong?”
“No, not at all.” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. What a way to get dragged out of a soliloquy. “It just, uh, caught me off guard is all. What about you? You just about leapt out of your seat.”
“All’s good on my end.”
“Yep. Same here.”
“Alright then.”
A terse moment passed. Despite how fervently you hoped he’d turn back to his work and drop the upsettingly awkward conversation, Donnie’s softly confused gaze stayed fixed on you. 
It made your stomach churn in a manner halfway between flustered and unbearable - that was to say, leaving sounded like a viable option.
“You know what? I might go get a snack or something; it’s been a minute since I had anything so...”
“Right. Want me to have S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. fetch you something?”
“No!” You took a deep breath upon realizing you were nearly shouting. “No, that’s quite alright. I don’t mind moving around a little bit.”
“Oh. Okay.” Donnie remained wide-eyed and immobile, tracking you curiously even as you moved for the door. He probably kept that up as long as he could, as long as you were in his sight before going back to work, not that you knew for certain, of course. You had squared your shoulders and rushed out as swiftly as possible, only easing up when you reached the kitchen.
You set straight to work on that snack and a warm drink to help you recuperate.
With a sigh, you prepped a kettle on the stove, leaving it to boil as you ventured mindlessly to the pantry.
After retrieving something to munch on, something easily poppable, you returned to an eagerly whistling kettle, the contents of which you quickly emptied into an eagerly awaiting mug. You plucked a tea bag from the cabinet adjacent to the stove and dunked it in, setting a timer.
As the tea steeped, you tried not to do so in your thoughts. Swimming and swarming uncomfortably through your brain with unpleasant reminders of how unfairly you’d behaved earlier, how unfair the circumstances around how averse you felt toward simple contact were-
No, not going there right now. You busied yourself with snagging pieces of your snack, losing your thoughts under the fervent sound of crunching and grinding and-
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Right. The tea.
Steeping over and tea bag tossed, you gathered your bearings and paused in the doorway. On one hand, you could go back to the lab and talk things out like a sensible person. On the other hand, cowering away in Donnie’s room was also there.
“Psh.” You shook your head lightly at yourself and trudged your way to his room, ever the craven.
You sipped at your earl grey contentedly, navigating around stacks of thick books and planters filled with rich soil and plum-colored tradescantia. Donnie, ever the botanist at heart.
Following the oh-so-perilous journey across his purple-fluorescently lit room, you settled on his mattress. Something struck you as funny in a deprecating sort of way when you sat - going into his room uninvited and making yourself at home on his bed seemed less intimate than simply coming into contact with him. Maybe you were just desensitized to eradicating his personal space but still quite opposed to doing the same with his personal bubble.
Yes, it was funny. Pathetic, too, but ironically funny nonetheless.
You couldn’t remember the last time you purposefully came into contact with someone and liked it. Like, genuinely, when was the last time you were touched?
Yes, sometimes it happened out of necessity - someone helping fasten on a bracelet’s clasp or zip up an outfit or something of the sort - other times it happened by accident - like earlier - but other than that, you hadn’t the foggiest idea of when you’d last sought intentional contact with anyone. All you knew was that it had been a painfully long time which made it a painfully sore subject.
The quiet shuffle of steps made a sudden appearance, ones you could recognize as Donnie’s without even looking up. So you didn’t.
A weight settled a considerable distance away from you on the bed, the sounds of the anxious pops of phalanges and the wringing of wrists making it even more apparent it was him.
You took a long, slow sip of your tea, savoring the last bit of warmth cascading down your throat before deftly discarding the empty mug on his busied nightstand.
You shuffled.
Talking, right? That was what was supposed to, what needed to come next, right?
Hashing it out verbally, coming to a resolution, going back to sitting in the lab with hardly a word exchanged and certainly no skin brushing by skin.
How do you ask someone why they scarcely touch you without sounding inappropriate or impotent? Not exactly a normal thing to ask. Or feel.
And how do you describe the niche feeling of wanting to feel any kind of contact but only under the most specific of circumstances?
Daunting, it was. All of it.
“Do you want to talk about earlier?” Donnie broke the silence.
The shake of your head was nigh indiscernible, but he perceived it nonetheless.
He twiddled his thumbs.
You cleared your throat.
He looked up from his lap.
You cautiously extended your arms out. An invitation to skip the words and go straight to the resolution.
Hesitantly, his hand met yours, the feeling electric, burning as his digits slid across yours to take gentle hold of you.
The two of you met eyes and, upon seeing no disapproval, continued with the utmost care.
You couldn’t recall which one of you moved to lay down first, but the other quickly reciprocated the shift, both of you ending up facing each other on silken violet sheets.
Legs tangled lightly for the purpose of pulling each other closer.
Tridactyl hands lightly glided to your sides, as if handling something delicate.
Yours made their way up, joining together behind his neck.
“I’m being so honest right now: if you want to stop, we’re stopping,” you voiced quietly yet surely.
Lazy circles on your hips drawn by his thumbs drew you in, drawn by thumbs that had increasingly more bravado by the second.
“Seriously, any moment you’re done, we’re done.”
A low hum sounded his amusement.
“Not as in done done, like done with this specific-”
“Respectfully,” Donnie interjected lightheartedly, “shut up. I’m good if you’re good.”
“…”
The silence this time once again carried an awkward air, but it was decidedly less insufferable.
Another second was spent before he cleared his throat, not wanting to misinterpret your silence. “You’re good?”
“Mmhm.”
“Then it’s good.”
With that, you decided his advice to shut up was the best idea you’d heard all day and did so, nuzzling your face into his neck sleepily. The reverberating churr and tighter hold you received in return were exquisite.
Oftentimes words proved to be the best and most concise way to convey a message; however, sometimes actions took that distinction, able to show as opposed to tell certain ineffable things.
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incorrectbatfam · 9 months ago
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Superbat hcs?
They're constantly referring to each other as "colleagues" even after all this time
One time Bruce comes home brooding more than usual and when asked he's like "I got into a disagreement with someone at the office"
Or Clark triple-checking that his suit and tie look right because he doesn't wanna embarrass himself at a work dinner with Bruce
Clark randomly laughs in the middle of the day at the Daily Planet because of something his co-worker from his second job sent him (it was a picture of Ace)
Bruce randomly buys gifts for Clark for "networking purposes," like Belgian chocolate or a diamond watch band
When Clark is stressed over a deadline Bruce will talk him through it over the phone because that's what colleagues do for each other
When other people ask where they see themselves in 10 years they always mention wanting to be each other's "business partners"
They once shared the same bed at a hotel on a "business trip" because getting two different ones would "go over the budget"
After a particularly bad Justice League mission, Bruce and Clark go for a long stroll together to "regroup" and "think up a new strategy"
They also coordinate Wayne Enterprises and Daily Planet lunch breaks so Clark can fly over to Gotham with the pie that Ma specifically made for Bruce
The Justice League does a holiday gift swap and Diana rigs it so Bruce and Clark get each other, but it backfires on her when they keep separately coming to her for advice as they're panicking about picking the right present
Bruce saved Clark in his contacts as "Colleague <3" and claims the heart is to differentiate him from all the other JL members and WE employees
One time Dick asked Bruce where he was going and Bruce said it was another work meeting with Clark, and Dick was like, "A work meeting in a horse-drawn carriage through the park?" To which Bruce said it was being paid for by Wayne Enterprises and therefore was business-related
Their families got together on Kent Farm for a summer barbecue after they said they had some "big news" to share, which turned out to be the merger between Wayne Enterprises and the Daily Planet. More than one people were left disappointed but Bruce and Clark couldn't figure out why
Clark flies over to Gotham in the mornings to bring Bruce coffee from a place they both like in exchange for Alfred's breakfast pastries
When Bruce is in Metropolis, he sneaks into Clark's office and waits until Clark gets back
Wayne Enterprises branches into the jewelry industry and Bruce gets himself and Clark matching gold rings as part of the "product testing" procedure
On slow patrol nights, they'll meet up on a random rooftop and just talk because "regular updates are vital to business communication"
They practiced how to waltz with each other so they look good in front of others at an upcoming gala
The other heroes have a running bet on how long until they get together, and of course Diana is in the lead
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ch4nb4ng · 1 year ago
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Marital Duties
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Pairing: Chan x afab!reader
Word count: 9.4k
Genre: Established relationship, married
Warning: SMUT (18+ only), phone sex, sexting, car sex, mention of boobs, oral sex (f. receving), penetration, swearing, mention of cum, mentions of pussy, kissing, praise
Note: ok i kinda nervous to post this but yas! Here is my inspo (here) (here) (here) warning it’s literally p word.
Tagged: @seo--changbin @j-0ne25 @cb97whoree @kpopsstuffs
Summary: Having a job that meant travelling and spending time away from your husband made the absence grow much fonder for you and your needs, as well as your husbands.
Work conferences were the bane of your existence. Yes you were away from your kid and sometimes it was hard, but being away from your husband was harder. There was no doubt about your job. Being a world renowned forensic psychologist was amazing and something you wanted for a long time. Sometimes though, it was nice to just curl up on the couch, read a good book, watch a comforting movie; there was nothing wrong with indulging in self-care, you just did not have the time to do so. 
The recent promotion into becoming head of the north-west region of mental health care was a big step up from your previous job. No one than you was more qualified for this. Everyone, colleagues and board members put your name up. Psychology was your life, but your family was bigger. 
Highschool sweethearts, you and your husband had been inseparable since what felt like the dawn of time. Meeting at 15, having your first dance at 17 at prom. Graduating and going to college together; If you had a dollar for everytime you accomplished a big milestone with him or because of him, you would be swimming in luxury. When the two of you got married, things just fell into place even more. The doubt of being able to help people mentally after graduating from your post grad made you nervous, but then again, you never thought that you would be married to such a wonderful man. A dream job at your local hospital fell into your lap, and your husband became the nurse that everybody wanted to assist them with their care. Working in close contact with him everyday was just another blessing in disguise; you simply could not get enough of him. It was impossible to get sick of him.
That was when you decided to have your first child. What could be a better mix than the two of you combined? The first 4 years of parenthood came with its challenges. Nevertheless, it was the best decision you ever made, and you couldn’t think of anyone better than to share the unfamiliar journey with.
The promotion, however, meant that you wouldn't work with your husband as much, and spending time with your daughter was a little limited, but you knew he would never tell you to turn something down, and in a way it was the best decision for your marriage. The times together were shorter, but it also meant that every moment was savored tenfold. The time was better quality, the acts of service more thoughtful, and the sex. The sex, was that much more passionate, just like the first time he made love to you. He would always find ways to surprise you. Whether it was the way he grasped, grabbed you on the fibers that lingered to be touched, the way his body pressed upon yours, lips lingering on new places. You were always amazed with how much he could do, and what he was capable of.
These are the ideas that tortured your mind when you were away on business trips. Calling him and hearing his voice, seeing his face through the tiny phone screen was not enough. It didn’t matter how long you had been together, you always craved and missed him significantly.
“Hang on,” he whispered through the phone speaker, “someone wants to say hi to you.”
Your heart beamed with joy every time you saw her little face on the screen. God she looked like her dad, and you knew she'd  grow up to be a beautiful woman.
“Hi mommy,” she giggled, fingers crinkling then uncrkinly as she waved at the camera, “I miss you mommy.”
“Aw baby,” you pouted, “I miss you too. Mommy will be home tomorrow. Now it’s time for you to sleep.”
“Yes,” he cooed, “and daddy is going to read you a bedtime after you say goodnight to mommy.”
Your baby squealed with joy, running out of the frame and to her room. You could do nothing but chuckles, careless that she was that excited over a book of words that she forgot to say goodnight.
“Let me call you back at 15.”
You nodded, pressing the red cross before rolling on your back and looking up at the ceiling, admiring the off white paint color, heart beating out of your chest every second that the callback was not made. It’s not that you were worried he wouldn’t call back, you just felt that longing you always did when you weren’t looking at him.
The vibration on your chest was extra sensitive. You rolled back over, now lying on your front with your hand resting on your chin, other hand holding the phone as you answered. 
“Hey baby.”
“Hiiii,” you whispered, a smile on your face impossible to be rid of.
“She was out like a light.”
“I’m glad.”
“How was your day, baby? I want to hear all about it.”
You giggled as you saw him get up, walking into the bathroom of your house as he placed you against the bench next to the sink. Chan wasn’t shy. He thought it was completely normal to remove his scrubs and leave his upper body bare as he bent down to the bottom drawer, taking out his skincare and placing it on his face. Chan was your husband. You had seen him shirtless 100 more times than you could count. It should not affect you this much. It should not make the temperature of your cheeks rise. It should not cause a sudden sharpness of change in your breath. It should not make your eyes bulge, and it should definitely not send you into a head spin when his biceps flexed when washing his face. Being a clinical psychologist meant having pristine precision and concentration, so if anybody got a hold of this live footage right now, they might question your profession.
“Y/n, Y/n?”
You blinked, quickly snapping your head to get back in the game. It was too late, however, your husband was already smirking at your distraction. You could try and play it off, but the both of you knew that he was too smart to fall for that.
“Sorry babe, I’m a bit distracted.”
“Oh yeah? What’s distracting you?”
“Oh please,” you scoffed, “you know exactly what you are doing.”
“Me?” He gasped, placing a hand on his chest, flexing his opposite bicep, “I have no idea what you're talking about.”
You couldn’t help but smile at his obvious attempt to woo you over, the subtle flirt. Sometimes it was easy to resist, but in this case, it was easier to play along, feign innocence until he truly told you what he wanted. The two of you liked to play such games, especially when you were on the road. It was time for you to sit up, placing Chan on the lamp atop of the bedside table before placing yourself on the edge of the hotel bed. The buttons on your shirt were suddenly feeling a little tight. The smirk on your husband’s face grew the moment he saw the first two buttons undone, a sneak peak of your cleavage making its debut for the night. You stopped there, gently pulling down the fabric, stretching the collar of the shirt, consequently putting your chest on full display. 
“Two can play that game Mr. Bang.”
A deep chuckle escaped his lips as he walked over to your shared bedroom, placing his phone in similar fashion to yours before removing his bottoms, your husband now in nothing but his boxers as he laid down, stretching out his legs before lifting you again, wanting the closest view to your fingers continuing to remove one button at a time, a painfully slow movement to your fingertips. Fuck. Now he kind of regretted starting this game with you tonight. A gasp of gratification spilt from Chan’s lips as he watched the satin material that made up your shirt slither off those, in his words, gorgeous shoulders of yours. The black lace bra, the one being your husband’s favorites out of pure coincidence the only garment covering your chest. 
Chan loved every part of you, make no mistake. He would worship every part of your body 24/7 if he could. He simply could never get enough of you, but your chest, your breasts were on a whole different level. Chan loved your boobs. It didn’t matter what the two of you were doing, promiscuous acts or not, if he could have his hands on them, he could. Cuddling, sex, hugs; call him a pervert, but he didn’t care. It was his wife for god sakes. He would feel abnormal if he wasn’t attracted to them. Conveniently for you, this was something you could play to your advantage. Didn’t want to do the dishes? Show him your cleavage. Needed to put your daughter to sleep but you wanted him to do it? Promise him to show your cleavage after he does so. It was a convenient weapon to use, and this was the perfect time to use it. It was fair, seeing as he was using the weapon of his own to try and get you where he wanted.
“Aw come on,” he whined, “you did that on purpose?”
“Did what,” you smiled, fingers gently tracing the lace attached to the strap, “I didn’t do anything.”
Tapping the phone screen, you sighed. It was like, and your flight home was something that required you getting up much earlier that you would ever prefer. You should go to sleep. Hang up on him. You were going to see him tomorrow anyway, surely you could suppress your urges until then. 
But then you saw your husband redirect his palm from the outside of his undergarment, which was obvious to the eye, to the inside, a gentle slap against his skin as it dived past the waist band. Fuck this was cruel now. Not only because you could see his hands subtly tumbling underneath, he drew attention to how hard he already was, and you didn’t know what aroused you more: his probaby pulsating length or the fact that he was as aroused as he was because of you. It didn’t matter how many times it occurred, Chan always had a way of making you feel special. Physically, emotionally, intimately; it was part of his aura, and one of the main reasons that you were so attracted to him in the first place.
“Baby,” you gasped, hands traveling up waist and to your chest, gently kneading the mass in an attempt to match his slow pace that he was palming himself, “you’re so naughty. I have to go to bed.”
“Aw come on baby,” he groaned, head resting atop the headboard, gaze even more piercing at the angle his head was at rest, “I haven’t seen you all week.”
“I know Chan,” you sighed, your next words going to be knowingly disappointing for him, “I have to check out at 3am and it’s already almost 10. You know what I’m like when I don't get my beauty sleep.”
Chan gave you a disapproving pout as he took his hands out of boxers, a shiny ring reappearing from the undergarment as he took the phone with both and lay flat on his back, sinking under the sheets and head gliding onto the pillow. He was humbly accepting defeat, most likely because he would see you tomorrow anyway; that’s when he could have his fun.
“I know baby it’s ok,” he smiled, bringing his face as close as possible to the camera, lips still pouting, “let me give you a kiss goodnight.”
“Thank you baby,” you giggled, also leaning forward to kiss the phone screen simultaneously before whispering a small, “goodnight.”
It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep, and the adrenaline from your almost raunchy rendezvous over the phone wore off quickly. You weren’t that young anymore. Getting tired was much easier. There was much less energy, especially after getting riled up like that. Even if it was what you saw while you were sleeping in your dreams, and you only have to wait 12 hours to see your beautiful husband in the flesh. 
***
The alarm caused a fright, a deep groaning sound of annoyance bellowing from you, but that quickly wore off. The immediate thought of seeing Chan and your beautiful daughter being the main reason for your sudden change in temperament. Your bags were already packed and you organized your brain knowing that you would be too tired to do it in the morning The smile on your face couldnt dared to be wiped off once you were in the taxi. The cool breeze of the warm summer hitting your face as you pushed the window in the back seat halfway down. Summer was your favorite time of the year, especially since it was the time you got to spend with your family that was of the best quality. All of the aspects of your job you loved, even the times you traveled. However, your heart did sink a little when you had to travel at this time of the year. The school holidays always felt too short, so when you had to travel, the amount was even shorter.
A ding from your phone brought out of your somewhat solemn daze, heat creeping to your cheeks immediately:
[hubby <3] 7:00 am Can’t wait to see you, hope there aren't any delays at the airport.
*one attachment*
Jesus fuck. Now sending a full blown dick pick with your daughter in the car, which you assumed was there, was definitely not the way to go; and thank god your husband knew that. But that did not let him off the hook. It was a photo of him, in the mirror, with his face cut off and only his lips in the frame. He was wearing a black sleeveless tank and those fucking grey tracksuit pants. Call yourself cliche, but nothing turned you on more than that particular piece of clothing. Chan had one hand on the camera, the other hand at the base of his hardened length. He always did this. As mature as Chan was, the times he chose to be inappropriate truly were the most inconvenient for you. A loud gasp escaped your lips, head almost hitting the chair in front as the driver came to a halt.
“Everything okay back there?”
“Uh yes,” your head snapped towards him, nodding furiously as a terrible attempt at acting in the norm, “why did we stop?”
“We are at the airport, miss?”
His tone sounded one of question, kind of looking at you in the rear mirror like you were one of the strangest passengers he had. You looked outside, a ferocious laugh escaping your lips as you decided it was better to say nothing and just pay, get out, and grab your own luggage. The awkwardness left your mind in shambles. How dare he send such a photo. Your husband. It was most likely to get revenge from last night, because he knew you would have to sit on the plane and suffer in silence.
Your luggage was checked in quickly, security easy to get through; there was plenty of time to wait in the boarding lounge. At first you were annoyed by the message. The sexual frustration that had already accumulated from your absence away from him was enough, but if anything, it felt like this was an extra punishment for last night.
But then you opened it again, started analyzing it (if you could call it that) until your finger was subconsciously in your mouth. It didn’t matter how many times you looked at him, your husband, he was always going to do it for you, every single time. The ache that has been coming and going throughout the week returned, and it made you annoyed. So annoyed that you found yourself lifting your butt from your chair, walking to the bathroom and locking yourself in one of the stalls. Gripping the bottom of your shirt, you pulled it down as much as you could without taking it off, mimicking a downward looking angle in an attempt to copy your husband, lips down as the camera clicked, off silent. Fuck. It’s fine. The idea that people may have heard the sounds of you taking a photo in the toilet. You were too fueled with a horny rage to think of the ramifications as you sent your photo, giving in and responding to him.
[Y/N] 8:30am No delays. Make sure you’re there on time.
*one attachment*
Oh, he was gonna hate that. Chan had patience for a lot of things. But short, dry messages were something that made him mad. Serves him for sending you that first. You knew exactly what his reaction would be as well, but at least you could board the plane in peace.
**
It was around 3 hours before the plane arose from one location and landed in another. The plane ride was painful. You tried to do the things you usually would. Create drafts for your patients, read a book, watch a downloaded netflix movie, and just sink into your non-reclining chair and relax; but you simply couldn’t.
The brain rot that was the simple image of your husband’s half naked torso should not be affecting you this much. But that was the problem too. It wasn’t just the picture. That image was the catalyst for the sexual rumination that had been numbing your brain for the past week. The want to get home was even stronger now knowing that you really had something to look forward to.
Of course, to your dismay and longing, the baggage claim took forever, security had a long line, and by the time all of that had been completed, it was, of course, an hour schedule that you told your husband to come and pick you up. The look on his face was sour to say the least. There he was, leaning against the exterior of your shared four wheel drive, drinking his probably now lukewarm coffee. The tingle instantly came back to your core, feeling like a teenage girl again. The scene was just like old times. Chan, waiting around the corner from your house to come and pick you up. The only thing that was different was that it was slightly taller, and had a few more wrinkles. Nonetheless, he looked super hot. Still wearing those grey sweatpants, and a fucking black tank. A fucking blank tank that was probably the tightest fitting pieceing of clothing in his fucking closet. His stance was strong, biceps, triceps, and ¾ of his pecs bulging out in public, and it was truly making your brain dizzy. You walked over quietly, the jarring sound of your suitcase wheels rolling along the parking lot concrete ruining the suspense of your arrival. Chan’s head snapped, eye widening the moment you appeared in his vision. 
“Hi baby, sorry I’m late the customs took for-”
The interruption was welcome as Chan shoved his phone in his pocket, apparently with an empty takeaway coffee cup falling to the floor as he enveloped you into his arms, a groan of admiration falling from his lips as they immediately attached to yours, your body to relaxing against his, eyes fluttering shut at his touch. God, it was only a week. One week, but you craved his touch more than anything in the world. It truly was the little things such as his calloused textures, the warmth of his skin, his smile. Holy fuck his smile was, in your opinion, the greatest thing in the world that ever existed. 
“Mmmh,” you hummed, gently pulling away, hands snaking across your husband’s waist, a smug smile on your lips, “I missed you.”
“Missed you too baby,” he growled, morning raspiness to his tone, “how was your flight?”
The implication of his question made your eyes ogle, the visual image of his text message imprinting on your brain. The smirk that developed on his face formed the expression of realization that hit you. Suddenly his grip on your waist was tighter, and Chan was pulling you in even closer, leaving you to feel everything; yes, everything. 
“It was good,” you giggled, knowing that you had been caught, “what was not good was your behavior since last night.”
“Hmm is that so? I don't see this being a one-sided activity?”
Your right hand left his torso, smacking him on the chest before taking a step back and walking to the car. It was fun to pretend to be annoyed, especially because you knew it would work your husband up even more. Chan hated when you sulked, especially when he playfully called you out. Chan always liked games, and so did you, because you knew that there was always one thing it would lead to. The longer the game went on, the more passionate the ending to this game would be. You walked into the car, peacefully sitting in the passenger seat as you left your husband to take your suitcase and place it in the boot. Serves him right for being a smartass. There was no sound except for the car door once the two of you were inside. The ignition was turned on, and so were you, watching your husband's arm reach over to the shoulder of your car seat, his head turned to look behind him. This was so dumb! You really should not be aroused by this; you’ve seen him do this thousands of times.
“You okay babe?”
You shook your head, snapping yourself out of this lustful daze, “yeah, why?”
“Ok it’s just,” he paused, shifting into drive, then placing his hand on the inside of your thigh, “you’re staring at me like a piece of meat.”
“I am not,” you scoffed, “you wish I was staring at you like that.”
He said nothing, a light chuckle following as the car fell into another silence. A comfortable one at that, well, to an extent. His thumb was gently nudging at your skin, knuckles inching closer to your center. There was something in the air, and the longer it lingered, the harder it was to ignore it. The want. The need to have him. It was impossible. You knew that even if you did get home soon that your daughter was home, and there was no way you were going to traumatize her like that; kids remember everything. If you took too long in the car, your father would get suspicious. He was one to get on your nerves like that, especially if he spent more time than agreed to watching your beautiful child. 
“I got your text message this morning.”
Chan’s eyes were on the road, which forced you to keep yours. Your eyebrows furrowed however, knowing that the street he just turned down was not the right way to your house. Instead, Chan turned the opposite direction, the car coming to an immediate stop at a lookout, but not just any lookout. The lookout east. The two of you came from a small town, meaning there weren't many spots to go; that was until the lookout east was uncovered. Back then it was the talk of the town, the go to hookup spot for many. You have seen it yourself. It had a beautiful view however, and most of the time you and Chan would go just to admire the view, but did not mean that every time would be an innocent one. The two of you had not been in years, and there was a big question mark as to why you were here right now. Chan said nothing, getting out of the car and walking over to your side, opening your own door before opening the back door, crawling in with you following. The two of you got comfortable, that was, until Chan pinned you down to the back seat, lips once again attacking yours as he pressed his horny groin into yours, a deep groan bellowing from your husband's chest. His dominance was easy to comply with, the desperate moan falling from your lips a culmination of feelings from the past 12 hours. This really could have been the horniest you have ever been in your whole entire life, even including the times of excessive sexual hormonal changes during pregnancy. His tongue snaked past your lips, without any slight of permission as his hips fell into a gentle rhythm. Chan moved with such delicacy and poise, yet somehow he was able to convey his ultra high level of arousal. Now you were in big trouble; it was serious business when Chan pinned you down like that. It meant he had serious business to take care of. 
“Chan,” you tried to speak, his lips interrupting each word, “what, are you doing?”
He pulled away, sitting up. Chan said nothing, eyes fixated on your chest as he grasped your wrist to pull you up, your body clumsily falling into him as you fixed your balance. Chan was quick to attack your lips again, hands making light work as they gripped onto the edge of your shirt. Your arms lifted unconsciously, allowing the kiss to break as he took off your shirt, your upper body in nothing but your undergarments. Your husband was like a kid in a candy store the moment he saw the slightest bit of cleavage. Chan’s arms wrapped around your back as he effortlessly unclasped the unwanted fabric, lips immediately attaching to your left nipple. A gracious moan fell from your lips, a hand tickling the back of the hair at the base of his skull, keeping a guidance. At first this tongue was small, gentle. A few kitty licks right in the center. Although it was minimal touch, you were one to have more sensitive nipples, so the feeling was already heaven enough. It wasn’t until his entire mouth was attached, a parietal noise of vacuum escaping his lips each time your tit went in and out of his mouth. 
“Mmmmm,” you hummed, back arching slightly at the subtle texture of his teeth, “you’re like fuckin newborn.”
“Mhh can’t help it,” he huffed, out of breath, hand replacing his lips for a brief moment, “makes me want to have another kid.”
Chan gave you no time to reply, lips resuming their position, but now on the opposite nipple. His fingers never stopped moving, either on your shoulder, running up and down your arms, but mainly on your breasts, doing whatever he can to feel you. Each squeeze of the mound brought a whine to your throat. His statement ran through your mind and just stayed there. Having another kid was not really something the two of you had ever spoken about. It wasn’t that it was off the table, no. It truly was just something that had not come up in conversation. You could understand why he wanted to have one, and in this moment especially, it had nothing to do with having an actual child. 
It is true that when you met your husband, your body shape resembled more of a P, but when you were pregnant with your daughter, Chan was on another planet. Any chance he got, his hands were on them. Call him twisted, but he loved how much bigger and softer they got when you were deep into pregnancy.
When you came back out of thought, and the major distraction of your husband's lips on your body, you pushed him away gently. You followed the sort of harsh motion with a gentle peck to his lips, arm wrapping around his neck as you smiled at him in disbelief. The last chance the two of you, well more him, had been so reckless like this was so long ago you would not even be able to recall. This didn’t mean you hated it though, if anything, it satisfied that little part of your adolescence that lingered. The adolescence that was always sparked whenever you were away. Whenever your calls turned to a lustful space. The photos. The phone calls. Usually the ‘rebellious’ behaviors were to compensate for the distance. But now, Chan was hungry for you, even when you were right in front of him.
“Babe, what has gotten into you?”
Your husband buried his face into your chest, a large breath filling his nostrils, your scent deeply satisfying him before he responded. 
“I just missed you a lot, baby. And that picture you sent drove me fucking wild.”
A smirk appeared on your lips, legs hovering over your husband's waist before encasing the lower limbs around his waist, a light amount of friction created by the swift move of your hips makes him hum in pleasure. Your eyes, now sitting on top of his lap, gazed over, looking down on the poor man. There was a slight emotion of guilt there. Depriving him of getting what he wanted. You didn't really care though. If anything, pissing him off usually led to better sex after, and there was nothing in this moment that you wanted more. 
“Mmmh, as much as I want this,” you mumbled, another soft kiss in between your sentences, “I need to go home and see my daughter which I have not seen in a week.” 
“You’re right,” Chan chuckled, “I am getting a little bit carried away, aren't I?” 
Yeah he was impatient, but he understood, and it was one thing you really loved about him. He was extremely empathetic, sometimes to a fault. Able to put himself in everyone else’s shoes. So as soon as you mentioned wanting to see your daughter more, he understood. He passed you your bra and shirt, quickly helping you put them back on, not without stealing another mouth watering kiss, and hopping back into the driving and passenger seat promptly. 
The drive was once again peaceful; which lasted around 30 seconds. Maybe it was a better idea to just fuck in the back of your car, because the ache between your legs, when reflecting on the past week, was at the most intense it had been. Maybe this was your karma for withholding your body from your very eager husband. It didn’t matter now because whether you liked it or not, all of this was going to have been scheduled at a much later, uncertain time.
Chan’s hand was placed on your thigh like before, the light background and the noise somewhat distracting you, but not for long. Your husband’s grip was getting stronger and stronger, inching closer and closer to your wanting pussy with each second. A sharp gasp left your lips when his middle finger traced over the hem of your jeans, your level of arousal heightened to the point where even the breeze most likely was enough to partly satisfy yourself.
“Chan.”
“Y/n.”
“Stop it,” you whined, fingers coincidentally fidgeting with the button of your jeans, following the same direction with your zipper before the pair of pants were below your waist, your bottom undergarments now on display. You looked down, embarrassed at the mass wet patch coating your panties. Your husband's hands took a little bit of a wander, but froze almost immediately when he felt that familiar patch he had felt oh so many times. The digits were quick to act, another moan spelling from your mouth as soon as he got you in the exact spot he knew to touch. That were the perks of having a husband, because whether the time of orgasm was long or short, he knew exactly where to touch you to make that happen.
“Your body is having the opposite reaction,” he smirked, “and my eyes are strictly on the road.”
“And keep it that way.”
“Mhmm,” he ignored, fingers somehow able to push your panties to the side, raw fingertips now spreading open those pussy lips. God you felt dirty, nasty. How could you do this in your fucking car? Too horny to even wait until you were in the comfort of your bedroom. You were much too harsh on yourself. It was most definitely your husband's fault for opening that can of worms the moment he rocked up on the facetime camera without his shirt on. Therefore, your humility was minimized, there were always much worse things you could have done. Chan was easily able to find that wanting little entrance of yours, two fingers effortlessly plunging themselves inside, the unsympathetic texture of his hard working fingers gently scratching the velvet interior of your walls, hips now gently rocking back and forth on him. Your hands came to your breasts automatically, pinching, twisting, flicking the sensitive buds in any way possible that could create a replica of Chan’s mouth from previous moments. Fuck, no one else could do you like your husband, even yourself.
“Fuck Chan,” you whimpered, covering your face in embarrassment.
“Shh it’s okay,” he cooed, coaxing you through his honey textured tone, “just let it feel good, worry about other things later.”
Just as you let your head fall against the headrest, eye fluttering shut, the car came to a halt. Eyes flying open, a mound of disappointment when your visual fields were filled with your front yard. To your dismay, your husband withdrew his fingers from your pussy, a large squelching sound in the moment as he placed his hands on the gear shift, placing the toe of your into park before turning the car ignition off. The look you were giving your husband now was one of sadness, despair, making him laugh. He loved when you were dramatic.
“You’re not happy to be home?”
“Shut up,” you huffed, redoing your pants up before storming out of the car, forcing your husband to grab your suitcase as you stood impatiently at the front door, waiting for him to open it. It would be impossible to wipe the puffed up look of content on his face, knowing that he got right under your skin. Games were fun to play, but you simply knew that if he didn’t give you what you wanted soon, the house would fall into chaos. It was one thing to wind you up, but this time it was too far to push through, then stop just when things were getting good.
A fake smile plastered on your face, the refreshing thought of seeing your daughter coming back into your mind as you walked through your abode. It faded however, unable to see or hear anything that resembled your little baby. It wasn’t until you walked down your long hallway that led to your kitchen that you saw the note on your marble bench. It read the following:
Hi Darling, hope you had a safe flight!
I have taken my beautiful granddaughter to the park for a playdate with a couple of her friends and the other available parents. 
We are leaving at around midday, and won’t be back for a few couple hours. Apologies you will have to wait a little longer, but I couldn’t say no to her beating eyes when she asked me.
I'll see you when I’m looking at you.
Dad
“Chan!”
Your timbre was loud, somewhat frightening your husband as he rolled your luggage across the floor, meeting you in your shared kitchen. He was kind of worried. Chan knew that your dad was taking care of her while he went to pick you up, but he never said anything about taking her out. He stood next to you, trying to analyze your expressions before you spoke. You missed your daughter a lot, there was nothing false about that statement. Nonetheless, when the smug look came to your face at the thought of what having an empty house implied, you couldn't help yourself. 
“Did you know that my dad took her to the park?”
Oh fuck. Chan thought he was in trouble; big big trouble. 
You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to suppress your smile at how hopeless he looked. Being the medical professional you were, it was easy to read your husband like a book. And after his actions, which were already on the verge of crossing the threshold of what you would put up with, he was in his every right mind to react this way. Walking on eggshells was the right way to go. From his friskiness on the phone, to sending an almost naked picture to you in public, to publicly groping and prodding at your highly aroused body in the discomfort of your car, to now delaying your reunion with his daughter; my my my did he dig himself a massive grave that he would not be able to dig himself out of this one. 
“No,” he answered, hesitance leaking from his tone, “she must have asked him after I left.”
“Right,” you paddled, handing the note your dad had left to your husband. A sigh of relief in the form of his chest falling from the fat breath he sucked in before dissipating from his chest. Taking a step close, your husband ignored, focusing all his efforts on the written material until he felt the texture of what was your fingertips find a place on his torso, index fingers ‘accidentally’ finding a way underneath the hem of the thin material that made up his shirt. The note was removed from your husband’s face in the form of a toss with his own hand, eyes piercing into yours the more and more the skin of his torso was being exposed to the light. Your palms then became a part of the conversation, gently pressing against your husband's groin as you could feel his length awake from a light slumber.
“Why am I sensing that you’re not mad now?”
“Me,” You gasped, feigning ignorance as you finally pulled the flimsy material over your husband’s head, “I was never mad?”
“You weren’t?”
“No Mr. Bang,” you giggled, wrapping your hands around your husband’s neck once more, “Mad that you have been teasing me for almost 24 hours straight?”
Chan didn’t answer, instead sweeping your legs off the floor and into your arms, carrying your bridal style back down the said hallway, bedroom door conveniently already open as he laid you down on your back. A hum of happiness fell from your lips at the familiar feeling of your own bed sheets encompassing your back. You were brought out of those thoughts quickly however, your husband left you little to revel in bed texture, removing his sweats immediately before lifting you by the armpits again, leaving you to stand and him sitting on the edge of your shared mattress. The invitation of your barely dressed husband with a pressing erection straining his boxers was a very enticing seat. One that you took without a second thought as his hands were straight for your throat, a gentle squeeze as your lips connected first, legs cloaking his waist once more, the both of your tongues fighting for dominance over each other. Chan’s mouth vibrated as he relaxed into the sensual nature of the kiss, hands drifting away from your upper body and right to the outside of your thighs, a gentle tingle of fingertips dancing across your heated skin as you pulled away from a brief moment, wanting to match at least half of his body in the lack of clothing. Your husband helped as he withdrew his hands from your body for a brief moment, deciding to, rather than pull your nice shirt over your head like a normal person, he pulled the seams apart, splitting the shirt into two before using one hand only to unclasp your bra this time. It would be a lie if you said you weren’t impressed by it everytime.
“I liked that shirt,” you pouted, “did you have to rip it?” “I’m sorry y/n,” he chuckled, hands snaking up your sides another time, “I just want you so badly.”
There was no time to react as your husband gripped your hips, spinning you around and pinning you into the mattress. His second attack followed impeccably, hands fumbling on your jeans before getting them undone, panties groped in unison as they hit the side wall. That was an irrelevant detail, because Chan was lying on his front, abs rubbing against your core as he brought his hands back to your tits; his most favorite thing in the world. The man could not keep his hands still, mouth slobbering all over the sensitive skin as he began his second attack of the day on your nipples. 
“Never gets old,” you giggle, a gentle moan following after at the contrast of your flimsy mounds and rock hard nubs. Chan’s hands felt like no other, and when he had them on you, it was the time when you felt like the luckiest woman in the world. Your husband’s chuckles followed closely to yours. Seeing his wife happy was one thing, but knowing that he could make you feel this good aroused him to another level. His admiration deepend, yes, but it was somewhat of an ego boost for him. Knowing that he was that good with his fingers. 
Your husband’s lips, like his hands, began to wander, a strip of wet kisses trailing down the center of your stomach, causing him to crawl back further and further until his lips were just above your core. Chan brought his fingers right back to where he had them in the car, easily able to slip in two fingers without warning, a deep groan gritting his teeth at the way your back arched for him monumentally. The sight was one that he had been craving, one that you craved yourself. It did not matter how far apart you were from your husband, his appetite for you would never change. If he wanted to be close, he wanted to be close. If he wanted to be far, well that was just simply not plausible. As much as he wanted to pleasure you, make you feel good, like the diligent role of a husband should be, it was the closeness that motivated him every time. Chan longed for these moments, especially since the introduction of your daughter restricted the ability to do so. At any possible moment, Chan would demand to do whatever he could to profess his love, and it was always done with his mouth; his tongue to be more specific. 
In this scenario, rather than speaking with tongue, it was sticking out of your husband’s lips, flattening as he dived in head first without hesitation, your hands automatically rummaging through the thick mound of curls that supported the top of his head. His tongue was heaven, spreading your pussy lips farther and farther apart and he used that ferocious organ to fiercely suck on your wanting nub. A monstrous moan escaped your lips at the contact, a gratifying humm coming from his throat at the way you tugged on his locks. Your eyes were barely open, unable to prevent yourself letting your eyelids dance back and forth from open to shut, mesmerized at the current view you had when hunching your neck to see. Chan could see the way you were desperate to view his fulfilling prophecy that was going down on his wife, making sure to lay his chest flat on your bed, ejecting his fingers from your cunt and hooking each forearm around each leg, compressing them into the mattress, giving you the perfect perspective of the combination that was his lips and tongue simultaneously pleasuring your aching core. If this was going to be the result after pining for each other for around 12 hours only, you would never think about it twice. 
“I love being married,” you whined, another humorous hum escaping your husband’s lips, “tongue feels so good.”
“Mmmh,” he mumbled, half of his face muffled in your pussy, “you taste so good.”
“What was that?”
He took away his tongue for a brief moment, looking you deep in the eye before repeating his statement.
“You taste so good.”
He didn’t want to take much time away from making you, his wife, feel good, let alone waste his breath on 3 words. His tongue snaked across your inner thigh, the organ licking a gentle strip up each leg before descending back onto your gushing pussy. The smile on your face at his works was impossible to wipe off, your moans through the pearly whites getting louder and louder at the same time with your core, the accumulation of your slick and Chan’s oral fluids contributing to the squelching sound that was bringing you closer and closer to peak arousal. His lust was simply one of trance and dedication. It genuinely could not be explained enough how much he loved seeing you like this, knowing that he was the one that was doing so. Your lips contorted, unable to keep the smile as your bite down on the skin below your bottom lip, harsh enough to leave a line of marks before you were sitting up, hands leaving his hair and dominating his face, palms spread across either side before pressing a kiss to his lips. Your nose crinkled, easily identifying the taste of you on his tongue before giving him one last look, eyes completely open as you crawled backwards on your elbows, left index fingers curling in a come hither motion. The invitation was simply too divine to resist. Your husband turned into a predator, jumping on top of you like he had just caught his prey. His moves were delicate, making sure to not crush you underneath him. His lips were itching to be on yours again, and the feelings were returned, tongue automatically parting his lips and dipping inside his wanting mouth as his hands left your figure for a brief moment, slipping the thin material down his legs and over his feet, fingertips, like magnets to his wife’s skin, straight back onto you. Your own hands were now back on your husband's body, fingernails digging into the large mound of muscles that was his upper back as his fully erect length pressed against your heat. A moan slipped out of your mouth and straight into his, causing him to pull away.
“Fuck you really missed me, didn’t you?”
His smirk was fucking priceless. So annoying, but it would just be a flat out lie if you said you were not attracted to it in the slightest. Cocky did not look good on most people, but it 100% suited your husband. Your nails buried themselves deeper into his flesh at his statement, a poor attempt at humbling him in the slightest as another moan fell from your lips as he began slightly rocking back and forth, the tip of his pre-cum soaked tip hitting your extremely sensitive nub. You went to open your mouth, a failing endeavor of speaking a sentence when the only thing coming out being sounds of pleasure.
“Don’t tease me Mr. Bang,” you mumbled in between each groan, bucking your hips to create a larger friction between your two bodies. Chan was getting impatient himself, but god, did he love to tease you. Your husband had no trouble making you orgasm over and over, he just had displeasure in making you cum so quickly. Your body was sensitive solely to him, even after all these years, it didn’t take much to get you there. Therefore, teasing you made the process so much more enjoyable. Watching you squirm was something that he really enjoyed. 
“Hmm Mrs. Bang,” he hummed, lifting his hips off of yours, one hand now wrapped around the base of him, “you’re so cute when you’re all hot and bothered.”
Your eyes formed into a squint, annoyed at how easily he was pinning you down, “stop playing games and fuck me. Preferably today before they get home.”
“Oh fuck,” Chan chuckled, prodding at your pussy hole with his length, “you’re right, let me get to business.”
It was funny when previously mentioned that Chan left to tease and see you squirm, because once his length was comforted by the strength of your tight walls, your husband was a mess. He couldn't help it. Your pussy, after being with you for so many years, molded exactly to the shape and maneuvers that Chan needed. He tried to maintain a slow pace, allowing for your cunt to stretch perfectly around him, wanting you to feel every inch of him; but it simply was too irresistible to resist. Chan wrapped his hands around your ankles, lifting your limbs in the air and stretching them as far as they could go before kneeling on his knees as he began to flat out pound your busy. His pace was not as fast no, by the velocity of the thrusts was truly toe curling. Your jaw dropped to the floor if it could, the bedhead surely denting the walls at the arms as each time his hope made contact with your contact, a large noise resembling a slap occurred. Your husband was usually not as rough, but it’s not that you’re complaining at all. It was rare that he would just throw you around like this, usually if he was frustrated or that you had been away. So really, you should have seen this coming. Maybe it was what provoked you to reply to his lustful text in such a similar manner; whatever you have been doing it was right seeing as he was making your pussy cry with arousal. 
Chan’s teeth sunk into your left calf, a string of large huffs and puffs escaping from his chest as he put all his mighty effort into each thrust, your husband breathing heavy at the combination of his force and pleasure he got from fucking you like that. His eyes ogled however, at how easily your tits bounced back and forth.
“Fuck,” you shouted, “s-so rough.”
“You like that?”
“Mhm,” you whimper, keeping your legs in the air as your pulled him by the neck, foreheads accidentally smashing foreheads together with a significant force, “you’re fucking me like you want to put another kid in me.”
“Maybe I do,” he grunted, pressing a kiss to your lips in between, “maybe I should put another kid in you.”
God the way he talks, especially like that, turns you on so much. Your hands now travel back to the familiar spot of his back, pulling his chest against yours as he picked up his pace, thrusts much smoother with rhythm as your eyes fluttered shut, head hitting the back of the pillow ad your husband relentlessly fucked your pussy. A deep breath blew from your lips, an insufficient try to maintain your composure as your husband refused to set a forgiving speed.
“Fuck your pussy,” he growled, unable to finish his sentence.
“Yeah baby?”
“Mine,” he huffed, his own eyes fluttering shut as he pinned your upper limbs next to your head, head dipping down back to your breasts, a ferociously lick on your left nipple before he continued, “Fuck I’ll fuck another fucking child into that fucking pussy if you want me to.” 
Chan became a menace when he reached his peak horniness, and during this timeline, that was right now. Anyone who met or knew Chan, as a well-respected friend, colleague, or even a stranger, knew that was one of the most polite people that you could possibly have the pleasure of meeting. Not one to swear, always use his manners and respect other people’s time and values. However, it was only you who got to see the truly feral side of him, like this, cursing his head off. It was only at this point did he forget that facade of a well-mannered gentleman. Chan was certainly not polite or gentlemen like when he fucked you, and it was a guilty pleasure of yours. It always aroused you to hear him say ‘fuck’, mumble a ‘motherfucker’ or ‘shit’ under his breath, even just in normal dialgoue. So when he said it during sex, it truly was one of the hottest fucking things your had ever seen. 
“Do it,” you mumbled, unable to use your full voice, “put a kid in me.”
“Really?”
His head snapped up immediately, lips moving back to your own, pecking you one more time, but with his eyebrows raised in surprise, “Are you being serious?”
“Yes,” you smiled, fingertips spreading across your husband’s cheeks, “you have my permission.”
“Oh fuck,” he grumbled, “you really shouldn’t have said that.”
Chan’s hands snuggled under your back, scooping you and placing you up right on him, cock still inside of you as he sat up himself, keeping you close to his torso as he scooched the end of the bed. He let out a groan as he stood up, hands trailing to your hips as began to bounce you. A new level of sound escaped your lips at the new angle he was hitting inside of your pussy. It was smart to keep your arms enclosed around his neck, head buried into his chest as he still managed to keep the same pace. You really didn’t know how much more of this you could handle; the pressure in your body was building. The pit of your stomach was making its way to your final high, and your muscles were tightening in conjunction. The room’s scent was full of sweat, but also passion. Sweet sweet passion and sweet sweet love filled the four nostrils in the room, bringing you even closer to the edge. 
“Chan?”
“Y/n, you okay baby?”
“I’m gonna cum baby,” you whined, “I'm gonna cum so hard.”
“Oh me fucking too baby,” he fritted through his jaw breaking teeth clench, “I’m about to blow so fucking hard.”
“Yeah?”
“All in this pussy,” he whined, placing you back down on the bed, “my pussy.”
“Mhm, all yours.”
Your husband kept your back arching off the edge of the bed, making sure that when let go of himself, that nothing but even a drop would drip out of your hole. His hips became erratic; you could tell that your husband would not last much longer. Not that you were far off either, but you know that the release of his seed would tip you over the edge. 
“Fuck,” he cursed, hard, “Y/n I’m so sorry I’m gonna cum first.”
“It’s ok,” you whined, “I need your seed inside of me so fucking badly.”
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah,” you clenched, eyes dark with lust as he kept his gaze on you, “put a fucking kid in me.”
“I fucking love my fucking wife so much,” he spat, jaw falling agape as his load exploded, the ropes of your husband’s orgasm roping over and over inside of you, “I fucking love you so much.”
“Fuck Chan,” you screamed, your own orgasm washing over and sending you into a haze, “it feels so good inside of me.”
Your whine was so attractive to Chan that he leant down to kiss you one more time, before withdrawing his aching cock, falling to your side in a heavy breath. He was quick to get back into action, however, falling off the bed and grabbing your ankles again, lifting them off the floor and onto the bed, ensuring that not a lick of his load would fall out. A fat giggle escaped from your lips when you watched him do so.
“Fuck you were serious about that kid hey?”
He was already gone, annoyingly leaving you by himself. He was quick to come back however, returning with a glass of water and a banana from the kitchen bench, handing over to you without a second thought. Your lips turned into a smile automatically, practically chugging the water down to quench your thirst before peeling the banana open. Your husband took his spot next to you, lying on his side as he watched you with admiration. All of a sudden you felt self-conscious, hesitating before putting your lips anywhere near the fruit.
“I’m starting to think you got this fruit for a particular reason.”
“No,” he chuckled, “just eat it.”
You looked away from him as your lips ‘accidentally’ slipped down the banana, much past where necessary to take a bite. You could see your husband's jaw clenching out of the corner of your eye as your motion.
“What,” you mumbled, mouth full of food, “you were asking for it.”
“Fuck your lucky that your daughter is going to be home soon.”
2K notes · View notes
jsprnt · 5 months ago
Text
Americano PT. 14 | Jude Bellingham x Reader
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What happens if two individuals who absolutely despise each other are forced to interact after unforeseen events occur?
A/N: I don’t want this to end omgg😭😭
W/C: 2.879
part thirteen
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"y/n?"
She looks up from her phone, brows furrowing slightly as she recognizes the voice coming from behind her bedroom door, along with the soft sound of a knock against the wood.
Dropping her phone against her pillow, she hurries up to the door. Hand reaching for the door knob and a click resonates through the hallway.
"Jude?" She whispers, heat immediately creeping up to her face when she makes eye contact with the equally anxious-looking Jude.
After the sudden burst of emotions, resulting in a hurried conversation, hours earlier in the closet at the party, they had been interrupted by loud banging against the door.
Panicking at first, they had gone completely wide-eyed. Jude immediately started to fix his shirt and its annoying buttons. While y/n stared up at him with nerves running through her veins.
Whoever it was, she knew that it would be insanely suspicious for them to leave the small room together.
It had been quite a few minutes since the New Year’s countdown, and no doubt their friends and colleagues would soon start looking for them both to celebrate new beginnings.
Only when the banging subdued, she'd dared to pull the door handle down, opening the squeaking door. Not seeing anyone standing at the door, probably exhausted from pounding against the hard wood and giving up, she looked behind her, seeing Jude nod at her in reassurance.
They'd split up, and talk about it later, at home. Away from the prying eyes and cameras.
The hours had passed by in a blur, and before they knew it- they were being driven home by her dad. Who had been absolutely thrilled at how well the event had been organized and gone, much like the years before.
The tension in the car had been almost palpable, though it wasn't full of malice or hatred. No, this time it was of giddiness and sneaky little glances at each other.
Curious about the future and outcome of the conversation that would follow when they got home.
y/n grabs onto Jude's hand, his hand touching her soft skin, pressing onto it, and feeling her fastening pulse.
Closing the door behind him, she looks up at him. Unreadable expression on her face.
"Is my dad asleep?" She whispers, keeping her voice down for reasons she does know. The house was big enough for her father to not hear them speak to each other, especially when he was asleep.
"Went to bed half an hour ago.." He replies, not returning the hushed whisper.
She nods, taking a step back, her shoulders dropping as some tension leaves her body at the reassurance of not being caught or interrupted.
"Good.." She says, suddenly conscious of the fact that they were alone in her room. Bed unmade, clothes thrown over her desk chair, and a vanity full of makeup and hair products not yet put away in their respective drawers.
Obviously, she had never thought this would happen tonight..
Jude is in her room, in her safe sanctuary from all that's stressful and evil. A place where she could retreat to empty her mind while reading or scrolling mindlessly through her phone.
He had been there- probably a handful of times. Every single one of those times, she'd complained or almost screamed at him to leave. When he'd try to pester her about how long she was taking to get ready for work, or sometimes even managing to convince her to drive him to his Spanish classes.
But, this time is different. She isn't annoyed or angry. Wanting to yell at him for entering her space.
Instead, there is not one inch of her being that wants him out of her room, not this time.
"Do you still want to talk?" He questions, hand moving to switch on the lights. Creating some visual clarity of their faces.
She squints at first, immediately noticing that he's changed out of his suit, now dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a soft-looking T-shirt.
"Yeah, of course.."
She trails off, raising her brows and pointing to her bed with her thumb.
Oh, very bad look.
"We can sit and- talk, obviously.." She adds, cursing her nerves.
She watches Jude's reaction intently, confused when a smile tugs at his lips.
He chuckles, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his pearly whites show. Raising his hand, he places it on her shoulder, squeezing reassuringly.
"You're good, we'll just talk.."
Without waiting for her to say anything else, his hand moves to hers. Pulling her towards the soft mattress of her bed.
She sits back comfortably, across him as she leans back into her soft pillows.
"So.." She begins, folding her legs, the corners of her mouth twitching as she holds back a little laugh. A mix of both nerves and curiosity brewing in her heart.
"I meant it, what I said..” He cuts her off, overhead light hitting his cheekbones, lighting up his chiseled face.
"I know we haven't been- the most civil to one other. Hell- I've probably been horrible to you, even at times when I was unaware of it..”
She puffs out a breath at his words, eyes flickering down to their hands, still intertwined.
The hand, usually itching to punch him in the face, at too many instances to count, now pressed right against his.
“It’s fine, I’ve done the same..” She replies, voice breathy, almost a whisper.
He hums, parting his lips to speak. Thumb running across the back of her hand.
“There’s quite no one like you.. I’ve never had anyone get so under my skin, especially the very first time we met..”
She grins at the memory, it felt like ages ago at this point, though in reality it had only been half a year ago.
“My coffee wasn’t hot, you know..” She teases, looking into his equally playful eyes.
“It wasn’t about the coffee, other staff handed me a new shirt immediately. It was about the fact that I was so insanely nervous, and you scared the shit out of me. You literally appeared out of nowhere..”
“Hey! I apologized like fifty times, but it was you throwing nasty remarks and looks after the fact..” She points an accusatory finger his way, brows quirking up.
“Forgive me, I guess I held a grudge against you for that..” He chuckles, amused by her animated reaction. Heart drumming against his chest, and raising his body temperature.
He wouldn’t admit it now, but the first glimpse he’d gotten of her face, he was fucking hooked on her beauty.
Though, he had immediately shoved that thought away, realizing his brand-new, white kit was stained. The once-full cup in the shocked, then-unknown girl’s hand, had spilled all over him.
Of course, no one would be happy at the sight. In fact, some people would’ve been absolutely pissed. In the moment, full of nerves and trying to fit in, Jude couldn’t help but immediately form an opinion of her.
As humans, we very often judge others by their appearance, or actions in the moment. It wouldn’t matter at that second what had happened before or after the interaction, and Jude was no different than other people.
“Okay, but seriously- you actually like me? No joke or anything?” It genuinely sounded like a primary school confession, and she’d honestly rather not continue this conversation if she kept embarrassing herself.
“I’m serious, y/n.. Fuck, you’re literally making my heart beat out of my chest. I’ve been going crazy trying to explain this feeling to myself for weeks!” He exclaims, breath quickening as he gets more and more passionate.
“Weeks?” She questions, leaning in to fix her posture.
“Weeks, months, whatever.. I’ve been thinking of you nonstop, ever since that drunk night- you’ve been all I can think about. I didn’t want to overwhelm or embarrass you, because you looked very frazzled when I told you about what happened that night..”
He takes a deep breath, voice shaking towards the end of his sentence. “As much as a cocky or calm person I can be at times, you’ve made me strip that away, only because I want to show you how good I can be. How much you’ve affected my heart and soul. I was in denial for far too long, until I could finally find a name for this feeling..”
Her lips part, blinking rapidly at the sudden onslaught of deep and vulnerable words. y/n squeezes his hand, looking down at their intertwined fingers.
“You’re cute, so cute..” She finally says, a small laugh leaving her lips. Unlike earlier, she’s managed to hide the nervousness in her body, instead her hands shake slightly.
“To be honest, I realized how I felt only when we spent time apart, especially after we spent so much time together when you moved in. Although, I can’t lie- it felt like being tortured at first. It made me remember how sweet you were at times, though I didn’t notice or thank you at the time.”
“I- was just being a decent person, you know I’ve got my morals either way..”
“No, from you protecting me from situations I didn’t want to be in- to helping me out when I needed it. It wouldn’t be right if I don’t own up to it. I’ve been shitty person to you too at times..” She interrupts, showing the upmost vulnerability in her eyes.
The entire house is silent, except for their voices echoing against the walls. If it were possible to hear their heartbeats without holding an ear against one another’s chest- it was no denying that they were beating in unison. The same fastening and slowing down of their heartbeats, probably symmetrically visible on an electrocardiogram if they were measured.
“I didn’t take your feelings into consideration at times, especially when you moved in at first. You were probably unsure and feeling unsafe. Maybe, even scared to live in a foreign place..” She can feel her eyes moisten, glimmering in the light as she pours out every single feeling in her chest.
“I’m sorry..” She finishes, blinking repeatedly to fix the blurriness of her vision.
“Don’t get emotional on me now..” He teases, though his voice is filled with affection and sweetness.
He raises his hand, cupping her jaw, and running his fingers down her jawline. Caressing the soft skin with the tips of his fingers.
It immediately sends chills down her spine, the good, positive ones, of course. It makes her breath hitch, and a single tear drops down her cheek. Cascading off the skin, and falling down her jawline, onto her lap.
His eyes roam down her face, a thumb swiping away the wetness on her soft cheek. Makeup ruined now, although it wasn’t very salvageable after all the dancing she had done throughout the celebratory night.
“I love you..” She mutters, for the first time in her life- the words actually mean something more. It’s not the ones you tell your family, solely platonic.
Not like the ones you tell your teenage crushes. The crushes you develop only to kill time during boring English and Math classes in the morning. Something that would motivate you to roam around the school to catch a glimpse of them, causing your young heart to flutter and blush.
“I love you too..” He replies, and it’s no longer possible for him to keep his emotions in check. His eyes water as well, though she’s unable to catch the sight herself, when he pulls her in closer. Pressing another kiss on her lips.
His lips move desperately against hers, wanting to convey any other unspoken words and wanting to consume every single one of hers.
Her lips are warm, soft from the gloss she’d applied earlier. His plump lips pressed against hers, making her heart flutter with pleasure.
Shared breaths full of need and want, though both of them still surprised about how everything had come down to this single moment in time.
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“Thank you, Jude. I’ll see you later..” I smile, a genuine one I had given him for the first time after a post-match interview.
“I’ll see you later..” He replies, winking discreetly as a grin pulls at his lips. Jude walks away almost immediately, his hand brushing against my leg as he retreats back into the changing room.
Fuck, literally, how much could my thoughts and opinions on him change in a matter of weeks? It took as much as some time apart for me to realize them, or how intense they were..
I hold back a smile as he closes the door behind him, mostly because his winking is more of a blink than anything..
He’s cute, woah- I never thought those words would actually be said out loud or thought of by me..
“You okay?”
I flinch at the sudden voice, my head and attention snapping back to make eye contact with a curious-looking Luis.
“I’m fine.. Why are you asking me?” I say, starting to pack his camera bag, shoving random cables and documents in both the small and big compartments.
“You look a little- lost..” He observes, tutting his tongue, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth.
“Yeah, I have a little cold.” I lie, the painfully awful lie falling from my mouth before I can register it.
“I thought so, you’re wearing a turtleneck. Though, don’t you hate turtlenecks? I have literally never seen you in one- in all these two- almost three years..”
My throat closes up at the sudden comment, my eyes moving from the zipper of the bag I’m stuffing full, to him.
“It’s been really cold lately. Maybe I should make an appointment at the doctor’s office to check my iron levels again..”
“Cold? But, you said you hated the way they constricted your neck..” He presses on, grabbing the heavy bag off of me.
“I guess I’m exchanging being comfortable for being uncomfortable..” I say, hurriedly walking ahead of him, hoping he’ll stop talking soon enough.
“Okay..” Luis trails off, his voice full of confusion, and I can hear him walk even faster to catch up with me.
“Did you see the hotel we’re staying at for the Super Cup?! When I tell you it’s insane, they literally have these huge chandeliers in every room, and the restaurant on the rooftop has like..” He changes the topic when he realizes my want to, and I take a deep breath in gratitude.
Jude and I, though it was very difficult, had decided to keep our relationship, something we had confirmed only a couple nights ago, very private, for now.
Knowing the circumstances of our situation, we thought everyone should figure it out on their own.
We didn’t want to make it too obvious. We weren’t going to scream or rave about it, and I was insanely grateful Jude would go along with my wishes to begin slow.
Well, at least in the sense that other people were allowed to know..
We were co-workers in a certain way, after all, and we didn’t exactly know what the club’s reaction would be..
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"What are you doing?” Jude appears in the threshold of y/n’s room. Knocking on her door, to notify her, even though it’s wide open.
“Huh? Packing..” She replies, bent over her pink suitcase, fretting over the clothes, shoes, and makeup she should and shouldn’t pack.
January in Riyadh and Madrid weren’t that much different from each other. Though with the latter city definitely a little hotter, she needed some thinner and cooler fabrics to feel comfortable while working.
He grins to himself, chuckling at her stressed form, and walks up to her. His muscular arms snaking around her waist, as he intertwines his fingers on her abdomen.
She freezes for a moment, moving her head to look back at him. Even so, a soft smile tugs at her lips, a sigh leaving her mouth at the ticklish and unfamiliar feeling.
“You know, I could never categorize you as the clingy boyfriend type..” She says, feeling his chest press up against her back. His heart beating against her shirt.
“You don’t know a lot of things about me, yet..” He says, making her move her body, turning, so she can look up at him.
“Oh, yeah?” She asks challengingly, lashes fluttering as his hands move down to the small of her back.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind if I-”
He’s cut off by y/n moving out of his hold, confusion and sadness on his face at her movements.
Did he move too fast? I mean, they literally had-
“Dad?” She mutters, nervous smile on her lips. Her eyes widened and panicked as they dart from her boyfriend to her father.
Jude freezes on the spot, eyes closing in denial. Not wanting to turn around and face her father’s protectiveness.
Jude and her father had actually gotten increasingly closer these past weeks. With seeing each other both at home and in the law firm to further inform him and his mother on the case.
But surviving this, he’d have to man up. Own up to the fact that he was head over heels for the older man’s only daughter.
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suguru-getos · 1 year ago
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Fluffember with Satoru Gojo
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Prompt: Sharing a drink
Summary: You are in the early phases of your relationship with Satoru where you haven't even kissed each other yet. Taking things comfortingly and achingly slow. You go on a date with him where you share a drink together. <3 Warnings: None, it's absolutely fluffy in the most Dark Academia of ways since it has an almost poetic depiction of my love for this man lol. I have self-indulged here, so the reader is lean (Mentioning of his palm almost covering our waist); apart from that - nothing else. Let me know if I've missed anything loves x -> Talk to me about the man ;)
You hadn't spent much time with Gojo Satoru yet, however that didn't mean that the early stages of the relationship are not memorable and enticing in the least. Take today for an example, you can't wait for work to finish & go on a coffee date with him. It's barely been 10 days of you two agreeing to be in a committed relationship with each other. Your backgrounds were totally different, your brother goes to Jujutsu High and as his guardian who lives in Japan- you had met Satoru Gojo several times. He had introduced him to you as his teacher when he was 15, and now he is 18. A third year and ready to graduate. Satoru met you when you were 20, and he was 26 that time. There was always an eerie, unspoken mystery between you two. You didn't try on him though, as good looking and fluent in English as he was… something about there being no chances ever to exist caused your behaviour to carry a severe astonishing indifference towards him. Something that bewildered even Satoru always, though he was happy that there is someone who does not kiss the floor he walks on. It felt a good change, the only people who behave normally with him are his male counterparts, and women like Shoko and Utahime who know he is not to be taken so seriously at times.
Until on your brother's 18th birthday, he got him a fucking Mercedes. That was- interesting to say the least. You had talked to him here and there but your brother's birthday bash is the moment when you two started talking for real. Hobbies, what are your favourite places to visit, what irks you off, how his technique works… everything. Hell he cockily showed you his domain as well, something so beautiful you were haunted by it in your dreams.
You shake off all the thoughts in your head when one of your colleagues asked your help in something. He was a junior and often came to you with his series of questions and doubts. So far you hadn't mentored anyone really… though everything has started to remind you about Satoru Gojo. How good of a mentor he is for your sibling… Damn it, that man- you still haven't kissed for fuck's sake! Just gone on a casual movie date when he had to run off when your brother felt his CE in your house. Pft- funny… you can't wait for him to judge Satoru as a boyfriend when you finally tell him.
Satoru Gojo [3:00 PM]: Hey! :D You up for the date after work right???
You bit your lip as your phone's home screen lit up with the familiar name, no you haven't saved his contact cutely yet… you can't afford to move too fast. Don't want to be the one to fall first and fall harder and then get your heart broken to pieces.
You [3:01 PM]: Yeah, ofc! I'd get free by 5. Send me the pin.
Satoru Gojo [3:01 PM]: LOL
Satoru Gojo [3:01 PM]: 🤣🤣😏
Satoru Gojo [3:01 PM]: She thinks I'll not pick her fine ass up, mkay girl
You smiled a little at the text, biting your lip and raising your hand for your colleague to stop talking. He complied, seeing you so occupied and having dusted cheeks.
You [3:02 PM]: Okay, I'll wait :)
You're a dry texter at times, but you can be extremely chaotic when you're comfortable. Satoru still needed to unlock that gremlin potential after all.
Oh you can't wait for your work day to end, glancing at the time, listening to songs, finishing the Knowledge Transfer session with your junior colleague. Finally, it was 5:00 PM. You aren't one of the people who leave work on the dot, but today is an exception. You left your seat at 4:50, gliding towards the washroom and doing a final touch up on your make-up, before leaving outside.
There he stood, the man himself. Body language easy as a breeze, like a relief you'd expect when you see him with a tingle of nervousness that makes your heart ache. Oh he was wearing his glasses today, wearing a black shirt and some formal pants, waving his hands at you with a cheerful grin. He was the tallest amongst everyone walking by, easily visible and the most beautiful and ethereal of course.
You smiled back, walking towards him like an excited child and hugging him softly. Satoru wasn't soft at all though, single-handedly covering almost your entire waist into his palm and pulling you close, letting you drown in his expensive and luxurious cologne. Satoru smelled like power, if it was supposed to be a scent. A unique and distinguished scent that you wouldn't be too creepy to ask right now.
"Gosh little girl, I missed you. What're you doing to me?" He chuckled, walking alongside you and holding your hand possessively, intertwining fingers. Everything felt too much, and nothing at the same time. Nothing as in you wanted more, too much as in you can't take his touches which are now so relevant and so easy for him.
"I missed you too, Satoru." You still slur a little, and he looks down at you from his glasses, he loves how his name sounds from your voice. You've always called him Gojo san out of respect as your brother's sensei. Calling him Satoru helps break any restraints you have bounded yourself in.
Your office was near the bustling labyrinth of Tokyo city, and finding a neat and boujee coffee shop wasn't really hard for your boyfriend. You both walked in, and the barista was as mesmerised by Satoru at first glance as you were. Can't blame her, he is gut-wrenchingly beautiful after all. Sculpted by the gods.
"I'd like uh, to have?" He rips through your stray thoughts and smiles, looking down to match your height and leaning in a little closer to your face. "What'd my girl like to have?" Fucking hell you could combust! "I'd like to have a Chocolate Frappucino with an extra shot of espresso and some vanilla extract & caramel syrup please."
"Oh making a coffee mocktail are we?" Satoru grinned, and looked at the Barista who glanced expectantly at him for his order. "Oh we'd make an extra-large, and make it two straws kay?" He said is so casually though it was the cutest thing that has happened to you so far.
He held your hand and found a place for you and him, pulling your chair like a gentleman. "How was work, little one?" He muses, while you talk to him about your day, how you organized Zumba classes today for your colleagues and how your work was as hectic as ever but nothing to complain since you're not overworked.
He nods, and listens, like- really, really listens. For someone who talks a lot, Satoru was extremely observant and quiet right now.
Then, came the order, the Barista placing the tray with the coffee on the table & sliding in the two straws. "I hope you two enjoy." The venomous formality tinged with jealousy dripped out from her throat as she left. Satoru of course paid no mind… though you could observe how people looked at him. As if he was someone to attain.
You leaned in, wrapping your lips around the straw after dipping it into the coffee and took a sip. "Mm, so good." You almost moan a little at the exquisite taste. Satoru hands you the other straw, while you looked at him bewildered. His lips wrapped around 'your' straw, which had 'your' lipstick imprint and took a sip. Leaving you absolutely flustered and fazed. "So good, true… best thing I've ever tasted in 29 years." He hums with a genuine affirmation that only drives you off the edge. "Stop it, you're so dramatic!" You laughed, taking the other straw and sharing the drink.
How to make silly little things intimate - you could only hope to learn from Satoru Gojo <3 then again, you have several more dates with him to learn it after all. He was whipped and falling desolatingly fast for you.
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floralcyanidee · 1 year ago
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ɪ sᴇᴇ ғɪʀᴇ - ᴊ. ʀᴏʙᴇʀᴛ ᴏᴘᴘᴇɴʜᴇɪᴍᴇʀ
Cillian!Oppenheimer x AFAB!Reader (NSFW)
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request: scientist reader and Oppenheimer have sm sexual tension between them and trying to hide their feelings for each other cause they're colleagues but then when the Manhattan Project comes up and they both work on it together it just gets too much to handle. by @aporiasposts
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disclaimer: this is a work of fanfiction. cillian's representation of oppenheimer is also fictional to a degree. if you dislike this kind of fanfiction, please keep scrolling and do not interact with this post. otherwise, have a lovely day. ♥
warnings: smut, penetrative sex, p in v sex, unprotected sex, multiple positions used, mutual pining, years of sexual tension
word count: 2090
author’s note: please read the disclaimer several times if you must before you decide to comment something snarky or send a dense anonymous ask. (: this is my first time writing smut for Robert so it was interesting!! I rather enjoyed it and I think I'm going to finish the other smut I was going to write for him. also, I changed the request details a little. reader is a historian/ political scientist of sorts instead of a scientist. I feel like there is a lot of scientist!reader fics out there and wanted to be a little different haha. I hope everyone enjoys!
main masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist | add yourself to the taglist here
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Having a doctorate in history has led you to places you never thought possible. One of those places ended up being the University of California - Berkeley. You were given the opportunity to lecture there with some of the brightest minds in the country- one of them being physicist Dr. J. Robert Oppenheimer. Your disciplines differed but had the same solid foundation of facts, evidence, and logic. Needing to see things to believe it for yourself was one thing the two of you had in common, which brought you together. You were interested in his lectures and as he was yours. Both of you have learned a lot from each other and have become good friends. However, there were times when you would interact, and it felt intense. You’d grade papers together in comfortable silence, sometimes stealing glances at one another. Whenever you caught Robert staring, you’d give him a small, knowing smile. When he caught you staring, he’d hold your gaze, which made you nervous. 
You enjoyed attending Robert’s political discussions after class to see how passionate he was about current issues. Dr. Lawrence, your other beloved colleague, often warned you to avoid them, but you ignored him. The energy you’d feel toward Robert every time he’d rant about how every person deserves the freedom and the right to choose was electric. It was the very basis of your beliefs as a historian and a professor. The two of you would often go for a cigarette in the courtyard between classes to enjoy the fresh air and discuss politics. Robert loved hearing your stance on things, especially since you knew your stuff about the history of politics and how things work with them. The tensions were high that day, and before you knew it, Robert leaned into you as you spoke. But before anything could happen, it was time for classes to resume. So you went your respective ways. 
When you were contacted by the government to assist on a top-secret project, you were shocked. They needed your expertise in politics and history, as well as your reading and writing skills. You asked if Robert would be involved due to his talent in psychics, but you got no answer. You didn’t take long to learn of Dr. Lawrence’s involvement in the project, and you were ecstatic to have someone you knew tagging along. He was worried about Robert not being present for the Manhattan Project simply because of his mutual and close friends being communists. You insisted you’d speak to Robert about the matter, but Ernest objected. However, after a meeting about the Spanish Revolution that Robert had held, Ernest blew up on him. He mentioned there was a project and that Robert wasn’t allowed on it as long as he was sticking his nose in communist politics. So, Robert stopped the meetings, and sure enough, General Leslie Groves eventually poked his way into Robert’s office one afternoon to discuss the Project. 
Now, the three of you were involved and had to leave Berkeley. Robert quickly assumed the position of Project leader and already had a location picked out for the Project headquarters. You had heard many stories of this location from him and demanded he take you to it before construction began. You and Robert left Berkeley and traveled to Los Alamos via horse, talking and laughing the whole time about your childhoods and times in school. You both decided to camp there overnight and enjoy the desert and its beautiful sky before dealing with the most significant project in human history. As you sat by the fire that night with Robert, you stared at the sky in wonder. Robert watched you with just as much wonder, enjoying seeing you smile. Because pretty soon, there wouldn’t be much to smile about.
By the time you had moved into Los Alamos and started getting to work, the tension between you and Robert was becoming impalpable. The camping trip solidified whatever was going on between you two- even if it was nothing at all as of right now. Robert ensured you were at every meeting so you could give your two cents if it was needed; you were the brains and the empathy of the project. Gen. Groves admired you for it because no matter how steep the project was getting, you never once panicked or got in over your head. He also admired how you managed to keep your hands off Robert despite how you looked at him. And one day, he mentioned it to you.
“What’s the first thing you’re going to do when you get out of here?” Gen. Groves asked you one day during a field test.
“Oh, uh,” you hadn’t given it much thought, “I’m not sure. Probably continue lecturing.”
“No one special in your life you want to be with?” Groves asked, a kind smile on his face.
“Not really,” you mumbled sadly, your eyes glanced over at Robert, “Not yet, anyway.”
“Maybe once all of this is over, you can pursue them,” Groves suggested knowingly, “We’re so close now. It won’t be long.”
You nodded, seeing that he knew who was on your mind just by how he studied you, “Maybe.”
After all the hard work and growing sexual tension over the tedious years at Los Alamos, the bubble separating you and Robert finally burst the morning of the Trinity Test. The test was a success, and Robert was basking in the afterglow. Everything from getting his hand shaken to being carried by the crowd of excited and ecstatic workers- it brought him some relief. There’s always sunshine before the rain. 
You invited Robert over to your quaint house on the outskirts of Los Alamos for your nightly glass of wine, but this time it was heavier. It was more meaningful because you finally accomplished what you’d been working so hard for. When Robert sat next to you on the chaise next to the fireplace, his leg touched yours. The sexual energy was like a thick, wet blanket. You took large gulps of your wine as Robert’s eyes stared into yours, his glass pressed to his lips with slower sips.
“I can’t believe it’s all over,” you shook your head.
“Me either.”
“What do we do now? What’s life after this going to be like?”
“I’m not sure about that,” Robert had set his wine down on the floor, “But I’m sure about something else.”
“And what’s that?” you asked, polishing off your drink.
“You.”
You slowly sat back up after putting your empty glass on the floor by your feet, “Me?”
“Yes,” Robert paused, “Ever since I met you, I’ve wanted you in ways I can’t explain. And I can usually explain anything.”
You chuckled at that, nodding in agreement, “That you can.”
Robert leaned in, and your smile faltered. His hand reached up to touch your cheek gently, his thumb pushing some of your hair out of the way. Your eyes fluttered shut as you waited with bated breath for Robert to finally, finally kiss you. It had been years of waiting now. And the second his lips pressed to yours, all that time seemed to drift away. There was an explosion in your chest at the feeling of Robert pressing against you on the chaise, pushing you down onto its cushions. His coat and tie have long since been discarded, so all you have to do is worry at the buttons of his shirt with your shaking fingers. Eventually, you get the shirt opened and off his slender frame as it hovered over you. Robert let his skillful tongue slip past your lips with ease, exploring every centimeter of your mouth. How you had longed for this moment.
“Need you, Robert,” you pulled away for air and sighed as his hands pushed up your legs and underneath your dress, “Always have.”
“I’m here, darling. I’m here now.”
Robert shoved the skirt of your dress over your hips and stomach, revealing your slowly soaking white and dainty underwear. He hummed in satisfaction when his finger circled the wet spot at your entrance, causing a moan to leave your lips.
“Eager, are we?” he teased, pulling down your underwear without hesitation.
“Yes,” you said bravely, “Now, nothing fancy tonight. We have plenty of time for other things, but for now, I need you inside me.”
“Alright then,” Robert chuckles, hastily unbuckling his slacks before pushing them far enough down his legs to be comfortable.
He glided his tip along your slickness, gathering all he could to push inside you with less friction. You whined at the contact, a wanton moan escaping you suddenly as he moved into you at a patient pace. But you were anything but patient, especially at this point. You pushed your hips, causing Robert to enter you further, to which he let out a delicious groan. His hands gripped your sides intensely, sure to leave bruises tomorrow. He buried his face in your neck, his teeth baring down into the skin as he felt you suck his cock in. 
“Wanted- needed this for so long,” Robert whispered in your ear as his tip finally brushed against your insides.
“God, me too,” you cried out when he slowly pulled back out and then slammed back into you, “Fuck.”
“Such a dirty mouth,” Robert tutted playfully, to which you flashed him a smile, moving your hips to wiggle him further inside you.
Robert had thrust himself into you again, this time a little faster than the last. He kept doing this until he had a steady rhythm, lifting your legs to put on his shoulders to get a better angle. You growled at the sensation of him hitting your cervix, and your hands scratched down his back. Robert picked up speed, almost making the chaise scoot on the floor. He was fucking you like mad, and you were taking every second of it like his cock was water and you were thirsting in the desert. In this situation, the figure of speech wasn’t too far from the truth. The feeling of him repeatedly steering into your stomach made you nearly squeal from pleasure. Robert presses your thighs to your shoulders, the undersides of them against his chest. You were a mess, moaning like a whore and gripping Robert as if you blinked hard enough, he’d disappear.
“Taking me like such a good girl,” Robert grunted, moving a hand to your cunt to swipe at your clit in time with his thrusts.
You tossed your head back, crying out at the sensation. No one had ever fucked you with such vigor and passion. You felt that growing bubble in your gut, expecting it to burst any second.
“Cum in me,” you demanded, “Need to feel you.”
Robert laughed breathlessly at you, “Are you sure?”
“Certain.”
And as if he weren’t going fast enough, he pulled out, flipped you over, and took you from behind even faster than before. Robert pushed your cheek into the chaise cushion, watching you as you side-eyed him with utmost pleasure. You could feel yourself clenching around him, your orgasm creeping up. Robert pushed your lower back down as far as it’d go, your stomach flush with the material of the chaise underneath you. Your ass being in the air caused Robert to hit a new spot inside you, sending you reeling and spilling over the edge. As your cunt suffocated his cock with its walls, Robert followed your release with his own. His hot cum filled you up with warmth, your hips still bouncing against him. Robert panted from behind you, slowly pulling himself out of your now-dripping pussy. 
You rolled back onto your back, now facing Robert, “That was… wow,” you exhaled.
“I concur,” Robert joked, sitting back and pulling you onto his lap.
You hummed in exhaustion, blissed out as you hung your head on his shoulder.
“Want to stay?” you asked tiredly, eyeing the now-spilled remainder of wine Robert had placed on the floor earlier. You’d worry about it tomorrow.
“I’d love to,” Robert muttered into your ear, kissing it before picking you up off his lap.
The rest of your night is spent watching Robert study you as you lay beside each other in bed. He took you in as if he was seeing you in a new perspective- and he was. Robert was as curious about you as he was about the world and how it worked. Except now, he had to worry about not destroying you like he had the world.
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taglist:
@baizzhu @hjmalmed @queenshelby @hjmalmed @amanda08319 @orijanko @naty-1001 @raineeace @savagemickey03 @langdons-slut @shynovelist @sstar-ggirl @trixie23 @dunklerkeks1611 @hllywdwhre @slut4thebroken @mypoisonedvine @burnyouwithacigarettelighter @cranesbathtowel @arieslost @nefhertari @forgottenpeakywriter @llucky-llove @october-atoner @madlittlecriminal @ynisthatyou @starbxnny @darkmoviesquotespizza @newtsniffles @acapelladitty @radmerrmaid @loverhymeswith @lacontroller1991 @pictureinme
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lght-roastcoffee · 11 days ago
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⋆ ˚。⋆ Rainfall ⋆ ˚。⋆
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prompt: Sharing an umbrella┆Tuna-Tober ⊹ Day 6
pairing: Charles Xavier x fem!Reader
wordcount: 740
warnings: established relationship, alcohol use
author's note: We’re halfway done! Only five more fics left before I can set this challenge behind me! Like I said yesterday under the other Charles fic, I do plan on writing two fics tomorrow as a way to catch up after I got sick earlier this week, so get excited!
˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ 𝘯𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹ 𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘢-𝘵𝘰𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴 ˖ ᡣ𐭩 ⊹
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The pub was loud and noisy as I sipped on the pint of beer in my hands. I was supposed to be celebrating with Charles, but it seems he’s caught up in whatever his colleagues are having him do. I look over my shoulder from my spot at the bar and spot him downing a massive pint of beer. He’s going to feel that in the morning, I fear.
Charles had just presented his thesis on mutation in the human genes and his theories on these mutations accessing abilities unknown to mankind to this day. And to celebrate the end of his master’s program before starting his venture into his doctorate program, a party was arranged at the pub closest to the school. Charles had also invited Raven and I, but it seems I’ve been left to my own devices. Raven couldn’t come because she was called into work at the restaurant she’s been working at. But I was free and looking forward to being in Charles’ company for the night.
The man himself stumbles into the bar stool next to me leaning heavily on the counter. The bartender sets a new, but significantly smaller, beer glass in front of him before turning to the other patrons. The dazed smile on Charles’ face has me returning it with one of my own.
“Charles,” I start, “is it such a good idea to be drinking so heavily when we have a meeting in the morning?”
He chuckles, turning his head to face me, his hand reaching to grab mine. “It’s alright, love. We don’t need to be there until later, so we can nurse my inevitable hangover with a nice breakfast.”
He leans down and kisses my temple. My eyes closed at the contact, pulling a smile from my lips. Clumsily, he separates from me, standing to take his coat off of his chair and reaching for some bills in the pockets. I get up to do the same, watching as he downs some of the beer that had been forgotten about, shaking my head as I do. Charles placed a few bills on the counter, enough to cover his tab and mine (which was only the one beer), then took my hand and led me to the door.
As we exited the nice, warm pub, I huddled closer to Charles as the cold wind of the London fall washed over us. Not only was it cold, but it had started raining at some point.
“Ah, no worries!” Charles says, briefly letting go of my hand to reach back through the door for an umbrella.
Turning back to me, he opens it up and holds it over our heads. He wraps an arm around my waist, tucking me into his side once more before ushering me on the wet sidewalk. We continue like this down the block towards his townhouse. Before we were able to reach the steps, the umbrella flew out of Charles’ hands and down the sidewalk, leaving us without shelter from the pouring rain and soaking us. We try to run after it, but it’s gone before we can reach it.
We both stand there, clothes soaking through, the cold settling into our bones. Suddenly, Charles starts laughing, bending over, hands on his knees. I join in and walk to his side as he extends back to his full height. I wrap my arms around his neck as his loops around my waist, pulling me into his still-warm body. Our foreheads meet and we stare into each other’s eyes. His blue ones sparkle with child-like joy.
“You’re gorgeous, love,” he breathes out, a hand raising to brush my wet hair back.
I stare into his eyes, rubbing my thumb on the back of his neck, before softly pulling him down in a kiss. He returns it, pushing a little further into the embrace. His lips move slowly against mine, tasting of something sweet and the beer he downed before leaving the pub.
Overhead, thunder sounded, cracking against the silence of the street. We pull apart, laughter ringing out as he takes my hand and hurrying back towards the steps of his townhouse. Getting the door opened, he pulls me along with him into the foyer. We discard our drenched coats and scarves before standing in front of each other once more.
“You are truly beautiful, I hope you know that,” he sighs, brushing my cheek with his fingers.
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copperbadge · 1 year ago
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OoooOOOOOHHH one of my colleagues just got an email that looks sketchy as hell. It was awkwardly worded, vague on detail, and wanted our wire transfer information and tax ID so that he could make a donation in honor of a deceased family member. Colleague passed it on to one of my gift officers who passed it on to me like “Can you confirm this improbably named dead person existed?” and I could not confirm the existence of either the deceased or the supposed family member who contacted us. 
You can’t actually do much scamming with a wire transfer number and tax ID (the latter is publicly posted on our website) so I sent him my research with a note that I thought this was a “refund scam”: the scammer acts as a legit donor but immediately after making a wire transfer, he contacts the nonprofit to say he entered the wrong amount and asks to be refunded the overage -- crucially, to a different bank account. After sending the refund, the nonprofit discovers that the wire transfer was drawn on an empty bank account -- basically a bounced check -- but by then the scammer has also cleaned out the “refund” and bailed. (This is also pulled on individuals; never send the refund until the check has cleared, kids.) 
I suggested we ignore him, but if we want to test him we could ask for something a scammer couldn’t or wouldn’t want to provide, like a legit working phone number. My gift officer replied, “Sounds good. Do you want to take point?”
I messaged back, “By take point do you mean talk to this guy as a fundraiser?”
"You could be his gift officer!” he responded, and it’s at this point that I need you guys to understand I really like my gift officer but he is also the driest human I’ve ever met and it’s hard to tell when he’s joking. He knows that I have good customer service chops but I’m also quite shy and nervous about dealing with donors directly, so I thought he might be messing with me a little. 
But no! He continued, “If he’s a fraud you’ll catch it. If he’s legit, you know enough not to ruin a new donor relationship.”
I said, “Well, your faith in me is admirable,” and he’s not entirely wrong, so I accepted the challenge.  
And now I get to write the potential scammer an email about how we’re thrilled with the offer of a donation, we just need a few small pieces of information first, like a phone number and if possible a link to the obituary. If he plays along the next step is to inform him that we place a two-week hold on wire transfer donations and see if he still bites.
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theshinazugawaslut · 11 months ago
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Always here to help, Esha😘💕
Anyway, thoughts on Toxic Nemi? Not like super toxic but like…still toxic yk?😵‍💫
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Controlling, manipulative, and possessive; those are the best three words to use for toxic Sanemi. Whether it's set in the canon-verse or a modern AU (I've written this with more of a modern-AU in mind but I wouldn't mind making two seperate ones on request. However, I do also use references to the canon verse (training, missions, ect.).)
He loves you, he really does — he doesn't want to ever have to hurt you but he's doing it for your own good, don't you understand?
It's not that he doesn't trust you, it's that he doesn't trust others around you. How can you blame him? You have such beautiful, shimmering eyes and the prettiest smile, you could tempt anyone.
It starts off small: clingy little gestures like always keeping an arm around you, perhaps his rough hands dig just right into the plump flesh of your hips or perhaps his arm wraps around your sweet stomach, forearm resting against your belly whilst his fingers stroke some skin under your shirt as you go out shopping with him, excitedly showing him something you like. He listens to you but his lilac eyes burn into every passerby, his gaze almsot shadowing you from anyone's view with the promise of bloody murder in those eyes you find so very sweet.
He stands unnecessarily close to you, invading every inch of personal space he possibly can with that charming smile on his face, wants your eyes on just him and wants to make sure he can shield you from everyone else's filthy eyes.
If you're going out — mission, training, or in a modern AU where you're going shopping, visiting a friend — Sanemi is already slipping on his shoes and his haori (or jacket), looking at you with his usual serious face.
"I'm comin' with you, sweetheart," he says simply, blunt fingertips gentle brushing against your cheek, placing a chaste kiss on your jaw to make you listen. "Can't let you out alone, can I? What typa man would that make me, hmm?"
He swears it's for your safety and even when you protest you're meeting a friend at a cafe or simply going on a mission, he's tagging along, snarling when you try to deny him.
"Why do you not want me to come? Are you hiding something from me? Do I embarrass you?" he asks, making his eyes vulnerable and soft, making himself look sad and hurt, the way he knows that'll make you sag your shoulders and let him come along.
Hence, Sanemi follows you everywhere, even in the house. If you're sitting down — writing a letter to another Hashira or in a modern-day verse, texting someone on your phone — he's got an arm around your shoulder, lilac eyes watching your every move sharply.
"Baby, who's that?" he asks innocently, pointing to a contact as you had been mindlessly scrolling down your list of numbers to find a specific one.
"Oh, he's a friend from highschool," you answer and he scowls.
"Remove him," he orders and when you try to deny him, he nuzzles himself into your neck. "Baby, please, you care about me more, right? Not this rando, hmm?"
He grins when he watches you delete the contact.
He's also a bit shameless to get his point across to your friends and all the other people who ogle at your pretty person, kissing and suckling softly at your neck in public even as you squeal in protest.
He veils threats as well, ones he disguises as teasing or jokes but will wholeheartedly act upon should he deem he should.
"Tch, fuckin' bastard, I'll break his hands if he thinks of touching you."
"Do you really need to be visiting your family all the time? It'd be a shame if they got sick of you..."
"Baby doll... Don't keep talking to that idiot, I'll lock you in the house."
He doesn't like you going out to meet other people. Hell, he doesn't even want you to work (as a Hashira or as anything else in a modern-day verse).
He doesn't care if it's your family, friends, colleagues. He's all you should need. All you should want.
So he kisses you madly when you try to leave the house, wraps (traps) you up in muscled arms and kisses you breathless, senseless; littering mulberry, dark hickeys onto your jaw, neck, collar, undoing your clothes so he can worship your cunt.
"See, baby? 'm all ya need," he murmurs against your clit, licking at your folds, plunging his wet muscle into your hole as you cry out. "Let's stay home today, you can go 'nother day."
He marks you often as well — there's not a day where you aren't desperately trying to wear scarves to hide the mark of Sanemi's teeth against your neck or his love bites all across your body.
"You look so pretty, what are you doing?" he says, brows furrowing as he removes the scarves to gaze at you in the looking glass. He looks angry, scowl marring his rugged features. "You don't like them? You don't like what I do with you, to you?"
Your eyes widen, trying to explain yourself desperately before he gets upset, before he gets angry, and keeps you here till you apologise. "No, 'Nemi, of course I love it but it's a bit innappropriate-"
"-I love you and you're calling it indecent?" he hisses, hands coming on your shoulder to turn you around. "You truly think I'm some sorta monster than you gotta hide what I do to you? I thought you loved me."
"I do, I do, I do, I love you so much, 'Nemi, I won't wear the scarves, I promise," you murmur, grabbing his face to kiss him, and he smiles against your lips, victorious.
Sanemi controls your every aspect soon. He likes your fashion but he'd prefer if you'd only doll up just for him, and if you wish to go out, he's damn well at your side.
He glowers at you as you excitedly show him a dress you plan on wearing for the day and when your doe eyes widen in upset that he doesn't like it, he kisses your neck, up your jaw, then your temple, kissing you multiple times, his mouth like a drug to you.
"God, you look gorgeous," he murmurs, "but it's too much, hmm? Change into that lilac dress, yeah? You'll look so much sweeter, doll."
It started off like that but it's get to the point that he starts throwing tantrums, desperate and pathetic, when he sees you wear a dress that shows off the shoulders that he ends up kissing till they're bruised.
When you start crying, he cradles your face, kissing your face all over, wetly and open-mouthed. "Oh, baby, I only want what's best for you, don't you want to listen to me?" He cups the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, mouth desperately kissing your cheek, your nose, your brow. "Oh, don't cry, baby... I'm only doing what's best for you, why won't you listen to me? You wouldn't be crying if you'd. Just. Listen." One hand moves to squeeze your waist, to stroke the tender skin of your lower stomach where your womb lay beneath. "You wanna look pretty? I'll make you look fuckin' pretty- Why're you so damn stubborn? I love you, I love you so goddamn much and this is how you repay me? I buy all the pretty shit you wear, I buy it all for you so you fuckin' owe it to me to listen to me. Aye? Got it?"
When you nod, tears being stroked gently off your face, Sanemi smiles as though he hadn't even yelled at you or kissed you senseless. "Atta girl, my good girl."
But other times, it's not about what you wear but more of who you talk to, he scowls when he catches you talking to someone, and heaven forbid you manage to hang out/train with someone else without him finding out.
He keeps a track of you, always, whether you like it or not. If it's keeping a tracker on you or perhaps stalking you whenever you leave.
He'll go beserk, yelling and huffing, grabbing at your elbows, trying to drag you back home where you belong, and if that doesn't work, he'll cry and beg for you to never leave him, sobbing against your thighs that he wants you stay.
"Why did you lie to me?" he cries. "I thought- I thought you trusted me, don't you love me? I trust you with all my heart, I do everything for you, why can't you love me back the same?!"
And he lets that guilt fester at your heart, makes sure you never even try to utter the word 'break up' or 'leave' him (and if you ever even tried, he'd cover that pretty mouth of yours that he loves so much with his large, broad hand, his eyes bloodshot and crazed, kissing your forehead softly as his hand tightens your delicate face and squeezes till it feels your cheekbones will snap and teeth will shatter. "Don't even dare," he whispers against your ear, kissing your earring, "I'll fucking strangle you if I have to, if it means you'll stay, or maybe I should strangle that darling sister you care so much for...").
He proposes to you quite quickly as well — you're his one and only, his piece of perfection, the only one that matters. He plans the wedding precisely how you would want it and it makes you forget all the bad aspects as he dotes on you for the rest of your life, very rarely having to remind you of your place as you become a perfect housewife for him.
You love him just as much now, whining his name when he has to leave for awhile, but he always kisses and bites you, murmurs how much he loves you (and you know he means it).
He makes sure to bounce you on his cock almost every night, loving how you sob his name is ecstacy, and he makes sure to stuff you full until your belly swells nice and round with his children.
God, he's always wanted a big family, he's always wanted to make sure you never had a single fucking choice other than him.
And he loves it, how you give him child after child, how utterly divine you look as you giggle and chatter, carrying his baby as he kisses your stomach over and over whilst his other children play at your feet.
You really couldn't resist him, could you?
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breedbun · 5 months ago
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` ` and here he is, the love of my life. ` ` - me, probably.
warnings; none, this is part 1! :)
desc; hi guys!!!! this is self indulgent because it was my birthday at the end of last month so i deserve to write about my favourite icy blue man!! js a sweet preschool teacher reader, who adores children and teaches english, science, and art. kaeya, just dropping klee off.. in turn, wants to put kids in reader!.. i mean, reader did say he liked the idea of having kids. (⁠。⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧ too bad y'all gotta wait!! *winky wink*
(edits/notes; 00:59 — 13:59 — 14:17 (i slept) this is inspired by an oc of mine btw i felt like being silly )
These past few weeks, you've been tasked with caring for the "terrorist of Mondstadt" by Acting Grandmaster Jean herself — Klee. As bad as people exaggerated her to be, you knew Klee absolutely loves you, even tolerating the fact you disallow her to bomb random things. You don't know why she loves you so much, but you're obviously not complaining at all, hah..
In the daycare you manage, you tuck Klee in for nap time, and ruffle her fluffy blonde hair gently. You let out a sigh of relief, because finally getting Klee to actually sleep was one hell of a task. Your fingers slide behind your waist, wrapping around the apron knot you tied. You grabbed two loose fabrics sticking out, and pulled on it hard. Once you tightened your apron, it was now time to prepare the snacks for the children once they woke up.. and then the activities, as well as outdoor free play. You've sure got a lot on your plate, but you're the true miracle of this daycare.. you're the only one who can herd every kid under control within minutes.
You sped up, walking past small mattresses with sleepy children, to a few large boxes at the back of the room, grabbing the one on top. Spinning on your heel, you struggled slightly to maintain both balance and speed as you rushed out the nap room. Closing the door with your foot, you then speed-walked to the many colourful tables and chairs with scribbles here and there. Opening the box, you start distributing all the snacks, and you can hear a few of your colleagues behind you scurrying over, attempting to aid you.
Everything took a while to prepare, but within nap time, you thankfully had at least 15 minutes left to relax. Usually it'd be 5 minutes or less, but you've got more hands today due to the new interns. Of course, you sat down in a short chair as you reached for your already half empty water bottle.
Though there were a few hiccups throughout the rest of the afternoon till the evening, you made it through the day with happy children and happy parents as always! You personally escorted Klee to the unlocked childproof gate, told her to grab her bag and stuff from her allocated tray. While you waited for her to pack some things, you glanced over at the parents in curiosity. Besides the loud giggling and chattering currently filling the room, you find a strangely familiar figure standing not so far from you. Blue hair, eye patch, tanned skin.. Right! That's Kaeya, the Calvary Captain. He had quite the reputation, both good and bad.. though, you've worked with him during your previous job, and you briefly know what type of person he is. Your thoughts are interrupted by Klee's tackle against your legs, and you nearly fall over, if not for the counter you held onto beside. You simply place your free hand on Klee's head, laughing as you try to find balance.
"Klee, is that your uncle Kaeya?" You speak endearingly, as you look up from her and up to that blue-haired man. Kaeya seemed to make eye contact with you, and you look away for the sake of your dignity. Sure, he was handsome, but you don't think he's into guys.. He's pretty popular among the ladies, too.
Klee ran over to Kaeya, babbling about her day while you follow behind slowly. Kaeya seemed almost surprised, but he had a smile on his face as he knelt down to listen to Klee with full attention on her. His gaze shifted to you every so often, you could tell, but you quietly walked away and hid yourself behind the counter. He watches you momentarily, before Klee starts dragging him away. Kaeya finally takes his eyes off you, and his mind swirls with you while he attempts to keep his mind on bringing Kee home.
What a strange man, what a charming man. Blue hair, an eye patch, and pretty eyes. You swore you saw a vision too.
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@breedbun • kaeya's no.1 fan+husband fr
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ithebookhoarder · 2 years ago
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Javier Peña req (and Steve as bestie). Y/n is their partner and is feeling extremely burnt out; running on empty, coffee, cigarettes and not much else. She’s barely sleeping or eating and constantly has a tight chest and racing heart. They both know something is up with her but she just shrugs it off until one day, Javi is out on a raid and she reaches her breaking point. Steve manages to get her home but can’t reach Javi until he gets back to the embassy etc. Also, please could you throw in a little Carrillo cause😍
Burned Out (Javier Peña x F!Reader)
A/N: I’ve missed Narcos and my DEA boys, so thank you for this prompt, whoever sent this in. I really appreciate it. I’ve been in a bit of a slump recently with writing for this blog, so it’s great to have something to focus on and pour myself in to - hope you enjoy it!
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Warnings: Swearing, smoking, alcohol, reference to depressive / self destructive behaviour, description of a panic attack, mild smut, canon-typical violence, death, reference to drugs / overdosing. 
Masterlist
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You knew exactly when it started. When you began to feel yourself beginning to sink downwards into the quicksand that was your life. 
It was a bad day… well, a worse day, if you were being honest, given that life in general in Bogota was hard and full of bad days that left you feeling numb inside. Whereas you were normally able to banish the darkness by spending time with the friends you had collected since your arrival to the city, not even Javi’s gentle kisses or Steve’s dirty jokes or Connie’s homemade deserts could do the trick. 
The day had been bad for many reasons.
One, you’d lost a contact with direct links to Escobar, that you’d spent weeks working on. 
Two, you had lost them in a drive-by shooting that had killed not only them but countless civilians too. 
Three, some of your asshole colleagues decided to spill coffee all over your files meaning you were forced to work late to re-type them up for a briefing the following morning. Even though you had got it done, you knew you had likely missed some details, the ink far too smudge to even begin to try and understand what had previously been written. 
However, that day had only been the start of it. The start of the downwards spiral you found yourself tumbling into. 
Sure, the others had noticed there was a change about you. Yet, it wasn’t as if they knew what was causing it or how to fix it. 
Javi especially knew what you were like - you were like him after all. Spilling your guts wasn’t your natural reaction to handling things. You kept your emotions bottled up inside of you, cramming more and more in, forcing that lid to remain firmly screwed in place even as the pressure began to build. 
And if the lid did threaten to pop off? Well then, you lost yourself in him. In the love that existed between you, and the intimate knowledge you shared of one another. After all, Javi had said it himself, “who needed therapy when you had sex and good whiskey?” 
A night of passionate fucking was all it took to take the edge off… to let a little pressure escape, delaying your inevitable eruption… But that was just it; you would erupt. It was inevitable. There was no way on earth you could sustain the relentless routine of long hours spent at work, with coffee doing its best to act as a replacement for your bed. 
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Hell, you could feel the toll it was taking on you both mentally and physically, from the way your hands shook slightly, to the way your chest felt too tight to breathe sometimes. Then there was the fact your clothes were starting to get baggy, whereas they’d once clung to your frame like they’d been tailored for you. 
“Here,” Javi had smiled one afternoon. You could smell the sandwich in his hand before he even set it down on the desk in front of you, accompanied by a packet of chips and a can of your favourite soda. “Grabbed that for you on our way back. Figured you’d forget lunch - again.” 
A weak smile tugged at the corner of your lips at the kind gesture. “Thanks, Javi.” 
“Anytime, hermosa.” He said it so calmly and easily that you felt your heart skip a beat as you realised how lucky you were to have someone who cared about you so deeply. It was why you made sure to tear a corner off of the sandwich and pop it in your mouth. 
The relieved nod Javi granted you told you it was the reaction he’d been waiting for, as he took a step back to let you finish eating and working in peace. 
You knew he’d be back to check you’d finished it in a matter of minutes. So, you were quick to chuck the rest of his lunch in the waste paper bin behind you, burying it further under a pile of discarded documents you’d already finished looking through. 
It was fine. You’d eat later. Maybe you’d even try and cook dinner for you and Javi… an apology for being so distant lately… 
Somehow, despite lacking the gift of prophecy, you knew deep down that that was unlikely to happen. Just as you knew it was unlikely Javi would even make it home tonight. For the last week straight, both he and Steve had been called out on some last minute, late night errands by Carillo - not that you minded all that much. 
Not having Javi’s arms to fall into meant you felt less guilty about working late yourself. About only making it back to your empty apartment long enough for a quick shower and a power nap each night. 
It was ironic to think of Carillo, though, given that your brief conversations with the Colonel in question had been the closest you’d come to finally releasing some of the hurt and the pain inside of you. 
You didn't know what it was about him, but somehow, the Colonel had an ability to draw you out. To make you open up and share things you would never otherwise dream of. 
Maybe it was his candour? You’d noticed that about him since you'd started working together; he had a blunt demeanour, saying what he thought regardless of the affect it could have on another person. 
Now, it wasn't done with malice, per say, but rather as the result of a man who had the weight of an entire army on his shoulders and an impossible task. He just didn't have the time to bullshit anyone - especially when you both lived in a city full of people all too willing to lie and cheat. 
It also came from a weird sense of respect, of seeing people as equals, deserving of the truth just as he expected the same in return. No matter how painful it may be.
Needless to say, it was one of the reasons you'd grown to respect the man - and dare you even say, like. 
Still, when he decided to loiter on the other side of your desk, late one night, you felt yourself stiffen, as if suddenly all too aware of every little gesture your body made and what it gave away.
The Colonel missed nothing.  
“You look like shit.”
Wow. Don’t beat around the bush. 
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“Jeez, your wife married a charmer, Colonel,” you scoffed, dragging on your cigarette, sparing him a fleeting glance. “Speaking of, doesn’t she want you back home? Or do you prefer my company that much that you’d rather stand at my desk at 11 o’clock at night?” 
“She’s out of the city, visiting her parents,” he rebuffed, clearly not taking the bait as he dropped into the empty seat opposite. In fact, he decided to reach across and steal one of the cigarettes from the packet on your desk, lighting it for himself in a gesture that made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere for now.  
“Good for her.”
“Yes, it is. I think time away from this place is good for everyone.” 
You could feel the accusation lacing his words, as well as the heat from his continuous stare. “Then why didn’t you go with her? Not enough vacation days?” 
He scoffed, a bitter smirk twisting his lips upwards. “You’re funny; I can see why Peña likes you so much. Like calls to like, as they say, even if you try and hide it behind that smile of yours.” 
You bit back a laugh. “What can I say? I lucked out in that department and got my Mom’s smile. My sister was not so fortunate. She always had my dad’s features - meaning she looked more often than not like she was sucking on a lemon.” 
“This is the sister that died from an overdose, correct?”
“Yes.” 
“The anniversary is this week, is it not?” 
He asked it so calmly and casually that anyone would have thought he’d asked you what the weather was like outside, or what your favourite record to listen to was. 
At least his concern now made sense. It was the kind of detail he would remember, and you were honestly more surprised by the fact it had taken until now for him to bring it up. 
He’d probably been itching to ask you about it all day, aware of the date even if your two partners were not. Well, they might have been, but neither had said anything which was your preference if you were being honest. Hence your rapidly cooling demeanour towards your colleague. 
“I’m fine, if that’s what you're trying to fish about for, Colonel,” you sighed, staring back down at your desk again in an attempt to dismiss him. “You don't have to worry about me. I’m good. Thanks. So can I get back to work in peace? Or did you have some other question for me?” 
Carillo sighed, simply choosing to smoke his cigarette, letting the tension linger along with the steadily growing haze around you both. 
He didn't need to say the words aloud; his actions did all the talking for him as he reached over and helped himself to a file off of you desk. 
He didn't buy this ‘calm, cool, and collected’ act you were pedalling. Not for a second - something his stare alone gave away, even if he refused to say it. Instead, he chose to read, and work, and smoke along side you so that you would not be alone. 
He had his eyes on you... watching and waiting for the moment that your carefully constructed walls came crashing down... the only question was would they crush you in the process?
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It was about a month later that the inevitable happened; that you finally hit rock bottom. 
It had just been a causal remark that did it, of all things. A casual remark that sent you tipping over the edge. 
You had just returned from lunch and hadn’t even sat back down at your desk yet when you noticed that someone was missing.  
“Yo, Steve?” you queried, quickly glancing up at the empty seat next to you. “Where did Javi go?” 
Now, you couldn't be a hundred percent certain what Steve said next but you knew he’d said something about Carillo, a lead, and a raid ... 
“What?”
“I said, Javier went with him,” Steve repeated, staring at you with growing concern. You realised he must have already repeated himself. “What? Why? What is it?” 
“Javi went too? He… he’s there? On that raid?” 
“Yes, y/n, that’s what I just said - hey! Where you going?” 
You didn’t even realise your feet had started moving, not until you heard Steve’s confusion as he yelled after you. 
But you didn't stop.
You couldn’t stop, not until you were outside - not until you were far enough from that place that you could actually stop and fucking breathe. 
When did it become so hard to breathe? 
When had the room become so small? 
Why did your mind suddenly feel the need to go to the darkest place possible? 
It was just a raid... one of hundreds Javi had gone on since arriving here in the country, just as you had also gone on your fair share. So why was your head suddenly picturing him... lying there... injured, or worse... dead. 
The number of bodies you’d stared at, lying in the streets in a macabre tableau that had become all too familiar by now - all part of this fucking job. A job you signed up for, hoping to vanquish the bastards who had taken so much from you and those you loved… yet, every day, it seemed you had failed as more and more innocent people suffered… and to think, that Javi - the man you loved more than anything - who you had neglected terribly to the point you couldn't actually remember the last time you’d woken up next to each other - could be amongst them… 
It brought you to your knees. 
“Whoah, y/n. Easy. What’s wrong?” 
Steve’s voice sounded distant, as if you have been submerged beneath water. Yet, you could tell he was beside you, dropping down onto the kerb before hauling you close. The warmth of his touch was enough to tether you to him, to reality, as everything around you seemed to spin in dizzying circles.
You could feel it as his hands rose, cupping your cheeks, turning your head and trying to get you to look at him. 
When you finally did, he could see immediately that your eyes were glassy, like you weren’t really seeing or hearing him. 
He knew that look. 
“Y/N,” Steve murmured in a soothing voice. “Y/N, look at me. Look at me.” 
He paused, waiting until your eyes trained themselves on his face, some of the cloudiness starting to dissipate. 
“Good, that’s good. Now breathe. Just breathe,” he instructed, taking a few deep breaths himself to show you how.
It took you a moment or two, but you eventually became fully aware of your surroundings and what your friend was telling you to do. 
Following his lead, you took a few shuddering breaths, then a few more. You kept breathing until you could feel the racing of your heart slow and the fear that had felt crippling just moments before begin to ease.
You were exhausted.
Wiping at your face, you tried to banish the tears that had left a salty trail burning down your cheek.
Steve doesn't say anything for a long minute, instead choosing to pull you into his side and light up a cigarette, which he was quick to offer you.
“T... thank you.”
You sat like that for a while... just watching people and cars passing by, smoking like two people on a perfectly ordinary break.
No one bothered to stop and ask you two questions. Hell, no one even shot a glance in your direction, everyone too busy with their own business to stop and give a shit about yours.
So you sat. 
And smoked. 
And said nothing... not until the cigarette was nothing more than a stub.
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Steve was quick to take it from you, before it could burn your fingers. Tossing it aside, it had clearly served its purpose. 
He stood and offered you a hand. 
His face left no room for debate as he stated calmly, “Come on, I’m taking you home. Now.” 
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“Come on. A couple more steps, Y/N,” Steve urged, guiding you up the stairs to your apartment. 
His hand was warm, firm even, as it pressed against your lower back. 
He’d been like this since the moment you’d left the embassy, steering you and hovering over you like he expected you to simply topple over at the slightest breeze. 
It was touching, yet irritating all at once - a sentiment you were too busy trying to put one foot in front of the other to even attempt to unpack. You were also just too goddamn tired. 
“Here we are.” Steve’s words startled you. “Home sweet home.” 
You didn’t remember giving him the keys, but you must have as he opened the door a second later and herded you inside. 
There was emotion in your throat - threatening to spill from you. You were holding on by a thread and he knew it. Just as Carillo knew it, and possibly Connie too - 
Wait, Connie?
You blinked as you realised that at some point the woman had also entered your home, most likely having been summoned by Steve on the drive home. 
You wanted to feel guilty at the thought of her being dragged into your mess, but you were honestly too tired to feel anything other than grateful as she hurried over to you, offering you a cup of what you assumed was tea, as well as two pills. 
To help take the edge off, she explained, urging you to take them. Doctor’s orders. 
It was impossible to miss the way that they were both staring at each other - sharing anxious glances as you swallowed the tablets and dutifully sipped the tea. 
They were worried about you. Hell, you were worried about you, and Javi, and Steve, and everyone else you loved and cared about - that was what had got you in this mess in the first place. 
Damn it.
You heard them say as much as you marched yourself to your bedroom, claiming you were going to try and get some rest whilst you waited for news. 
If they bought it, you couldn’t tell, but neither protested as you left them. 
They simply let you go, allowing you the space and privacy to crawl into your bedroom, bury yourself in the unmade sheets, and lie down for a while. The medication had clearly started to work as you felt heavy... tired... 
Lying there, you could hear their voices... faint murmurs drifting down the hall. 
You caught only snippets as they tried and failed to keep their voices down, just as your parents had once done when you were just a kid. Still, despite their efforts, you caught enough to know that there was still no word from Javi, or about the raid he went on. 
“-called Javi- no reply.”
“Carillo - try again -”
“-worried about her - stressed.” 
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Eventually, the words began to fade away, replaced instead by your body's sudden need to sleep. It was pointless to fight the drugs now in your system, or the comfort of being wrapped in the bed sheets that still smelled of Javi... not even you were strong enough to fight it as you felt yourself drifting off into sweet oblivion.
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"Sweetheart?"
You must have still been dreaming - that was the thought that crossed your mind as you swore you heard Javi's voice.
"Javi?" you moaned, fighting against the grogginess that greeted you as you tried to open your eyes.
Despite the fact it was clearly now dark out, you could easily make out the face in front of you, illuminated from behind by the bedside lamp. The sight was almost angelic - as if some divine being had deigned to answer your prayers and return the love of your life back in to your arms.
“It's ok, I'm here, sweetheart,” Javi purred again, brushing your hair back behind your ear and pulling you close. “I’m right here, ok? In one piece - promise. The raid went off without a hitch. Even snagged ourselves a new asset for you to take a crack at.”
Your eyes shimmered with tears as you quickly burrowed into his chest. You didn't really hear what he was saying, too busy focusing on the fact that he was here to say it at all - here - alive - in your arms. 
The reality hit you as you began to let it pour out of you: how relieved you were, how much you loved him. You also grumbled something about fucking telling you when he next decided to run off on a raid without so much as 'goodbye' - else you’d shoot him yourself. 
“I’m sorry, carino. I am.”
And you believed him. 
"I love you, Javi. So much."
"I love you too," he purred, "and I'm so sorry, I knew you were struggling, but when Steve told me-"
He didn't get to finish whatever the hell he'd been about to say. You didn't let him.
Instead, your lips surged hungrily towards his and as only Javi could, he kissed you back, soft and slow... as if desperate to reassure you through actions alone.
You felt him chuckle into your mouth as you grew impatient, grinding your hips against him in a silent plea for him to fill you. To join you. To bury himself, and the day you'd both had, in a moment of bliss.  
It was a special kind of neediness, reserved for just him, and one that was only sated once he had fully joined with you, as one being. Safe. Whole.
Yes, in an ideal world he would have waited until after talking to you to lose himself in such a way. After all, Steve and Connie had filled him in on the troubling turn of events that his absence today had triggered - and he'd be lying if he said the idea didn't scare him shitless, that you had broken down so completely...
He could only thank God that Steve had been there for you - especially when he couldn't be himself.
But he was here now... and you had time to start trying to make sense of this mess. Together. Carillo had assured him of that, informing him in no uncertain terms that you both had the next few days off from work. He didn't want to see either one of you back in the office until you'd begun to sort through the mountain of shit you were buried under.
So, yes. If you wanted to lose yourself for tonight, to use him to forget the world outside for a perfect moment, then he was only too happy to oblige.
He’d wait until the morning to have a proper conversation. 
He’d go down and whip you up some breakfast before trying to get you to open up to him about everything that had happened today… about the worries and concerns you’d been keeping locked away inside of you. 
Then, after you’d fallen in to pieces in his arms, he could try and start to put you back together again. As a team.
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lolasimms · 2 years ago
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a lots gonna change pt.6
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Summary: Married life isn’t great, infidelity ensues, and things change.
next chapter
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“So what are you doing after work today, princess?” you look up from your computer screen a painful excel spreadsheet gracing the screen, to meet the eyes of non other than Abby.
“It’s Y/n to you, and I’ve got a Pilates class in about” you look down to the two toned watch on your wrist. “30 minutes, so I should get going” You hurriedly grab your handbag from your desk and attempt to make your way past her. You’re shocked when you feel her strong arms hold onto your waist.
“Have I upset you or something, what’s the matter?” She searches your eyes, as you struggle to keep eye contact with her. You try force your way out of her grip but to no avail. Her buff arms caging you in.
“Can you please let go, I have somewhere I need to be” you groan and she finally releases you from her death grip. She shakes her head in amusement, finding your prissy behaviour to be somewhat cute.
“Is this about your wife, is she punishing you for my behaviour?” Her tone is playful and you wish you could smack that smirk off of her face.
“As a matter of fact it is, your persistence and unprofessional behaviour is causing issues for me.”
“Sweetheart I’ve been nothing but professional, your wife is just insecure. All I want is to be friends” you roll your eyes at her, how naive did she think you were.
“I mean it when I say this Abby, I don’t have the patience or capacity in my life to deal with any of this. You need to respect my boundaries and fuck off”
With that you make your way out of your office, honestly needing a break from any more unwanted social interaction.
“D you don’t understand the week I’ve had” you look over to your friend as she fills her water bottle at the water fountain.
“Tell me about it, I literally haven’t seen you since that night” you both cringe at the memory of the angst filled dinner that ended in an argument between you and Ellie.
“Well Ellie’s been acting horrible to me, we’ve been non stop fighting over the stupidest shit”
“I’m sorry girl, honestly if you ever need we can just leave the kids with Jesse and take a girls trip” you giggle at her suggestion but she’s dead serious.
“I doubt he’d appreciate that, plus I have work anyways”
“Speaking of, how has it been settling back in?” She asks as the two of you make your way up the stairs of the Pilates studio.
“It’s been good, aside from one of my colleagues who won’t stop hardcore flirting with me, she met Ellie and straight up kissed me in-front of her, twice!” You exclaim as the two of you place your keys and other belongings into your lockers.
Dina turns to you, eyes bulging and eyebrows furrowed. “You’re kidding right, I mean is she at least hot?” She questions wagging her eyebrows.
“Eww Dina, I’m literally married, you shouldn’t be encouraging that” you push her playfully as the both of you make your way over to the reformers.
“I was just asking, jeez” just as you’re about to tie your hair up into a ponytail you are interrupted by a woman asking you a question.
“Excuse mind if I use the machine next to you?” she asks with a smile. “I’m new here, it’s my first session”
“Sure go ahead, what’s your name?” You smile, looking at her as you finish tying your hair up.
“Amelia”
-
Amelia had never expected that she'd ever be the other woman, the phrase itself made her shudder, from embarrassment . Ever since her father had left them she always had trouble navigating relationships with sexual partners , that was no secret and her mother and sister never failed to remind her of it. Sure she had the looks like her sister, but when it came down to charm, she wasn't exactly what most people wanted in a partner. She was a hookup kind of girl, a quick fuck, a time passer specifically all the qualities of 'the other woman.’ God did it make her feel like shit. While her sister married rich, had a husband who was at her beck and call, perfect children who went to expensive Montessori school, Amelia was pushing 26 and yet she was unmarried, unloved and had no one.
That was until she met Ellie. The first time she met her was at a bar. She was tough to crack at first, always politely rejecting her advances and returning back to her drinks which pissed her off. The next few times that Ellie visited the bar, she was always slightly dishevelled, exhausted and snappy. Finally the first time she had given into her was in the stall of the bars bathroom, where she finger fucked her harshly, not bothering to even look Amelia in the eyes. Sure it wasn't sweet and she was extremely rough, but she saw it as a start and finally felt like she had met the one.
Soon enough they began meeting at hotels, but Ellie continued to abstain from physically penetrating her with the strap, it was always oral or fingers, no exceptions. This however changed when she began having fights with her wife, who she only mentioned to her when she was completely drunk. Amelia would've loved to act like she didn't care, but to picture her with a partner and a kid always drove her insane, it was her who should've been with Ellie.
She deserved someone like her, someone who would drop everything just to be at her feet. Not to mention that fact that her bitch of a wife had blamed her for not being able to go back to work, blamed her for not being around and blamed her for working too much, she hated the bitch just as much as she hated her sister and mother. She would do anything in her power to prevent them from being together, no matter what it took.
During the months when they began frequently meeting, Amelia could've sworn she had seen the look of love in Ellie’s eyes and it made her melt. She spoke less about her bitch wife, she spent more time with her and she would even kiss her. Amelia considered telling her wife so that she could have Ellie all to herself, but she had to be patient, she couldn’t get carried away.
It struck her when suddenly Ellie had become distant with her. She started ignoring her when she spoke, she wouldn't kiss her and most of the times she would make her face the other way while they made love. She knew the look in her eyes, she knew exactly what it was. It was guilt, Ellie had finally realised what she had done was wrong. With each interaction they had growing colder and colder, it was no surprise when she finally ended it that one night, the night when she had received phone call while she was half asleep.
Amelia was angry, angry that the love of her life was taken from her by some bitch and her daughter. She couldn’t upstage her sister, she could never have the perfect life and her mother would forever see her as a failure. No one ever stayed in her life, her mother had always told her she was the reason her father had left them and once again someone she loved had left her. Except this time she wouldn’t allow it, she would have Ellie even if it meant she’d have to kill.
To find you was her first task, and God was it easy. She knew Ellie had no social media, she hated that shit. So her first option was to check Vic’s page and Lo and behold, she had found a picture of you, Ellie and Vic at your daughters birthday party. She wanted to gag when she saw the way Ellie looked at you and her daughter, she was hers, hers only.
She found the tagged accounts and immediately found yours. Beach trips with your kid, dinner with Ellie, Pilates class-... she had to pause when she came across the photo of you a few other women and her sister. She had completely forgotten that her sister went to that stupid Pilates shit, and she wasn't surprised to find that you were apart of it. It was the perfect ploy for her to find out more about you, and destroy you.
-
Once she was able to come up with a fake reason as to why she wanted to join the Pilates class her stupid sister had given her a membership card, she was happy to know that she was one step closer to you. On the evening when all the try hards had met up at the Pilates studio, Amelia had to ensure she was normal, calm and collected. She had to refrain from grabbing the nearest dumbbell and hitting you across the head with it.
It was even harder when you had asked her what her name was with that empathetic smile of yours. It took everything in her not to yell out that she had been getting her cunt pounded by your wife for the past 5 months. She studied and observed you, and she couldn't figure out what Ellie even saw in you, what everyone saw in you. Every-time you or that dark haired friend of yours opened your mouths everyone in the studio would coo and praise the both of you. You got compliments from the other women without even trying and whenever the sparkle of your wedding ring caught her eye she felt like she would combust.
That same evening, after bidding everyone goodbye, Amelia had followed you and the other bitch you had come with. You had to drop your dumb friend first and she was honestly annoyed at the waste of her gas. Finally she saw the house, the one that would soon be hers and Ellie’s. She envied you, it was a beautiful home, the garden neatly trimmed and organised and the water feature out front bringing it all together. This would all be hers soon enough.
She couldn't wait till her and Ellie’s four sons could play out there, she would name their first born Eli and they would have the biggest wedding ever. Bigger than her sisters and then her mom would finally accept her and tell her she loved her. She had to shake her head and laugh, she was getting ahead of herself, first destroy the marriage, give Ellie time and then swoop her as fast as she could. She copied down the address and prepared for what was to come.
-
You were engrossed in an episode of who wants to be a millionaire, a glass of moscato in hand. The house was quiet, with Lila having her nap and Ellie being out with her work friends. Truly you were enjoying your Saturday afternoon, blissed out and unwinding. Just as you sunk further into the sofa, your peace was disturbed when you heard the familiar ring of the doorbell. You rolled your eyes as you made your way towards the door. Upon opening the door you were confused to see the random woman from your Pilates class. Had you forgotten something there yesterday?
“Uh, hi. I’m not sure if you remember me, I’m Amelia” she smiles, tucking a stray piece of her honey blonde hair behind her ear.
"I'm so sorry, but this is really random, what do you want to talk about Amelia, is this about Pilates class?" You nervously giggle as you remain standing at your door, anxious as ever.
"It's not about Pilates, but can we sit, I really don't want to-" she tries but you cut her off and begin.
"My daughters upstairs asleep and I don’t feel comfortable letting you in, as I don’t really know you. Look, just tell me I'm sure it's fine" you insist and she shakes her head before looking you dead in the eye.
"Your wife and I have been having an affair for the past 5 months"
taglist;
@moonlightdivine @maybe-cece @macaroni676 @sawaagyapong @katiemars @ellieseater @dakota-dream @joliettes @hebrokeimup @bratydoll
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eleni-cherie · 4 months ago
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a thief's origin✨ || bts • kth - chapter 0.4
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"you're afraid I won't wait." "I'm afraid you will."
a criminal and a doctor should be as different as the sun and the moon - but unexpected things happened every day. like him finding his safe haven in her.
© 2024 | eleni_cherie
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masterlist: here
— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, sexual tensiON, slowburn, mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers s2f2l
ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.
SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)
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age 26 // 2nd year - assistant physician
13th August
Macau, China
"One, two - check, check. Can you hear me?"
Taehyung rolled his eyes hearing Jimin's dramatics in the in-ear as he was easing his way to the back of the extravagant casino. He walked behind a group of intoxicated men - who judging by their suits and platin watches were business men having come there to gamble a few hundred thousands just for fun - to cover himself from the cameras.
Reaching one of the secured doors leading to the back area, he smoothly placed a small button-like device behind the security scanner in the matter of a second while passing by.
"Yeah, I do," he eventually responded to his pestering friend with a grin. Earning an annoyed groan on the other line.
"Took you long enough!"
"Guys, don't start again," Yoongi piped up in a bored, yet warning tone. And Taehyung snickered under his breath.
Without showing any suspicion, he continued walking among the drunks until reaching the card tables. Creating eye-contact with Yoongi who gave him a brief glance from the dimly lit bar, focusing back on the whiskey in front of him. The two pretending not knowing the other.
"Bug is set," he announced in a hush, approaching one of the empty seats at the Blackjack table. "Gonna start the distraction now."
"Joining in ten."
"Good. I'm counting on you guys."
»»»
21st August
Barcelona, Spain
Despite the evening hour, a drenching warmth laid around him. Taehyung was in fact internally dying.
After arriving from the layover in Doha, another unbearably warm place, he took a nap at their hideout outside the city first - feeling more drowsy than anything. Only then deciding to go check out his friend's apartment, out of boredom but also because he had genuinely missed her. However, she wasn't there, which in eighty percent of the time meant one thing: she was at work. 
So half an hour later, he found himself at the back of the hospital, lingering around the emergency entrance out of habit.
The late shift would finish soon he assumed - if she didn't have a double one, which he hoped wasn't the case. Eager for her to see the small succulent he had secured as a redemption for the one he'd accidentally knocked off the last time there.
It had been months ever since, but he still felt bad about it knowing how much her plants meant to her.
After awhile he got tired of walking around the sparsely illuminated area though and instead settled at the wall next to the entrance. Propping himself against it and stretching his neck as he watched people come and go.
He exhaled deeply when the automatic door slid open once again. Only this time he could hear raised voices nearing him.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Pretty sure my shift's over and Dr M warned us not to exceed our hours, remember?"
Taehyung's ears perked up at this. He instantly recognised the second voice despite the annoyed undertone. He didn't recognise the other one though. His foot setting to the ground and he straightened himself while listening intently.
"You know exactly what I mean. Don't act dumb, doll."
Cassandra turned around at this, crossing her arms as she faced her colleague with a raised brow.
"What did you just call me? Doll? Since when are we on that level?" she laughed, but Taehyung could tell she was surpressing an upset scoff.
And it certainly didn't go unnoticed by Pavlo, one of the bigmouths in the hospital, either. "Since you humiliated me in front of the fcking chief physician. Seriously, what's wrong with you?"
The way he raised his voice and accusing her of things that were his own fault, only made her temper bubble right underneath the surface. Trying her best to give him a blank stare instead of a nasty eye. 
She never liked Pavlo. She found him somewhat attractive in the right angle, but couldn't say anything positive about him otherwise. Frankly, she hated him. And no, not in a hot 'enemies-to-lovers' way. Rather in a 'the-world-would-be-a-better-place-without-him' way.
"I wasn't the one humiliating you. I only corrected you by stating facts," she spoke up, surprised by her own calmness, "The one humiliating you was your big ego. Who'd ever think to use activated vitamine C to treat a septic patient with such low thrombocytes? Everyone knows it'd cause brain heaemorage. Well, -" Pausing, she folded her lips. Failing to balance out the mocking judgement in her tone. ".. everyone but you, apparently."
Her male colleague clenched his jaw and she could swear seeing a vein popping up on his neck.
He couldn't care less about anyone hearing him, everyone knew to better not get on bad terms with him. So the fact she dared provoking him after always staying in line just like the rest, didn't sit right with him.
"Look, smartass," he said through gritted teeth and stepped forward. 
Cassandra instinctively taking a step back at this. Trying not to flinch and keep a stern face instead when internally she was beginning to shake.
There was a part of her fearing that she was pushing him too hard. She didn't know him well enough to know how he'd react to that.
She had heard rumours, unsettling ones, though which only added to her dislike towards him. And she wouldn't be surprised if they were true to some extent. But there was also another part of her clenching her fists and standing firm. 
"I don't have time for this, my shift ended five minutes ago."
She was ready to walk away when she felt a firm grip on her arm. Preventing her from leaving the spot.
"I'm talking to you though."
Her breath hinched and she looked down at his large hand, then back at him with what was probably the angriest glare Pavlo had ever witnessed on her. And that coming from a usually quiet and harmless person like Cassandra did take him off-guard for a second. Although he quickly found his demeanor again.
"Let go of me," she said, threateningly slowly. Voice low but only because she was trying her best not to jump him right there.
"No, first you -"
"I think she said to let go."
Both their heads abrubtly snapped towards the unexpected third voice. Seeing Taehyung appearing from behind the wall, stepping behind her.
The waves of chocolate brown, straight and and silky , was the first thing she noticed about him as she studied his face. She was startled to see him there.
Taehyung was arching a brow, staring blankly at Pavlo. His piercing glare neither mad nor threatening, rather judgy while staring straight into Pavlo's hazel eyes. Not even blinking once, which made the assistant physician gulp in irritation over the tall stranger. His grip around Cassandra's arm loosening.
"I don't know what you two were arguing about," Taehyung began then, pretending he hadn't eavesdropped the whole conversation. He glanced down at Cassandra before redirecting his glare to the male doctor, "But trust me, you don't want to upset her." And all of a sudden he cracked a grin. Taking them both aback. "Seriously, she looks innocent but she's got a mean upper-cut. And her kick..." He dragged out a whistle. "You don't wanna experience that."
Cassandra stifled a laugh at his acting, quickly understanding what he was trying to do. So she puffed out her chest and threw Pavlo a sinister look instead to play along with Taehyung's white lies.
"Listen to him. He knows what he's talking about," she smirked widely, leaning towards him to add, "From experience."
Pavlo immediately yanked his hand away and let go of her completely. His eyes alternating between Cassandra and Taehyung, shifting bewilderedly.
At one point his lips parted, as if he wanted to retort something, but shut just as fast again. Giving up, not seeing a point anymore.
And without further ado, he trotted back inside. Muttering something incoherent under his breath, clearly embarrassed and upset about the humiliating blow his ego had taken.
Cassandra and Taehyung immediately broke into a fit of laughter as soon as he disappeared.
"Who was that idiot?" The thief huffed then, glancing down at her with a scowl.
She sighed, shaking her head. "Dr. Pavlo Romero Diaz. First class jerk. Low class doctor."
He snorted at this, his irises lingering on the door her colleague had disappeared to before falling back to her. "You okay? Did he hurt you?"
"Nah, I'm fine." She waved him off. However, his eyes caught the clear red mark Pavlo's grip had left on her bare skin and something inside him boiled. Suddenly feeling the urge to go inside and find Pavlo, when her voice interrupted his train of thoughts.
"Huh, what?"
He saw her smiling at his confused face, clearly not having heard anything she'd just said. "I said thanks for the support."
"Oh, that.." he shrugged nonchalantly, shoving his hands into his pockets. "You didn't seem like needing my help anyway."
She wanted to argue, but then again she appreciated how he didn't let her appear as a weakling. "Still, thank you. I might've ended up doing something irrational like kicking him in the balls," she giggled, half-embarrassed about her confession.
He huffed out a chuckle, knowing she'd have probably done it if that jerk wouldn't have let go of her. Giving her a nod then. "S'alright, don't mention it. You know I got your back."
Her cheeks blushed all of a sudden. It was a nice feeling, to know that someone backed her up.
They shared a small smile before Taehyung went behind the wall only to reappearing with the small plant. And he observed her brown eyes widening, a small squeak leaving her lips.
"A jade plant!" She instantly rushed to grab it from his hands, beaming with joy like a child getting a bag of candy.
"Ah, this is what it's called. So you like it?" he asked, amused about how gleeful someone could be over a small plant.
"Yeah, of course! Why wouldn't I?" she grinned, marveling over the random gift. Her eyes then narrowing on him. "Why did you buy me a jade plant though?"
He shrugged as they made their way out of the emergency area and into the parking lot. Catching her tripping over a protruding stone and almost dropping the plant, quickly composing herself. And he tried not to laugh not wanting to embarrass her. "Didn't want to appear with empty hands and besides.. I felt sorry for last time. You know.."
She giggled when recalling the accident of him knocking off one of her succulents, nodding understandingly then. "You didn't have to, but thank you."
The plant had survived back then, but it'd never been the same ever since. Something she still felt sad about it since she really tried taking great care of her plants. However, when the incident had happened, she hadn't said anything because of his apologetic expression. He hadn't done it on purpose after all. 
Peeking at him, she couldn't help but smile. She was glad he was there. Not only because of the scene with Pavlo, which who knew how it'd have ended without Taehyung intervening - worst case would've been her indeed punching Pavlo's smug face and getting fired. Taehyung's lie wasn't a complete lie after all. 
But she had also genuinely missed his charming grin. More than she liked to admit.
»»»
"So, why are you here?" Cautiously, she put the plant aside not to distress it, making space for the drinks he brought.
Taehyung hadn't promised too much. Inconspicuous from the outside, the door at the narrow alley hid a cool tapas bar in its basement. Cool both, in the colloquial and literal way. A needed escape from the lingering heat outside. The atmosphere still needing several hours to warm down.
He shrugged, taking a tentative sip from his red wine to hide his bashful smile. "It was the furthest away from Macau."
"Huh, so can I expect a postcard from there, too?"
"Of course," he nodded firmly, "Already on its way."
She grinned, still admiring the small plant set in front of her. "What did you do there?" she curiously asked then and folded her hands on the table top to lean in closer. Looking at all sides, seeing themselves getting accustumed to going there whenever he was in town. Whispering excitedly and with a lot of mischief then: "Was it for a heist?"
Her unapologetic curiosity for his profession amused but also worried him. And breathed out before chuckling. "A curious cat as always, Doc," he smirked, "But you know I won't feed into it."
His response made her groan in frustration and she sat back. Giving him a sulky pout. "Oh, c'mon, cool guy. Give me something. You know I like stories of you and the guys robbing filthy rich people. It's entertaining and fun."
The reason he tried avoiding telling her too many infos was so she wouldn't get dragged into this world. Even if, for some absurd reason, she didn't mind his workfield and even held some kind of adoration for it, Cassandra was still a normal person, an overall good person. So he'd keep trying his best to keep her away from this other part of his life. Even if she herself would probably not even mind it, he did. Because selfishly enough, he also did it for that illusion he lived when being with her.
Besides, his main concern remained that by visiting her, she'd sooner or later get in interpol's sight. So it was better when she knew as little as possible.
Yet, when those big brown bambi eyes were sparkling so inquiringly at his direction, he rarely could resist. He exhaled deeply, setting the glass of wine down.
"All I'm gonna say is that Macau is known for its casinos."
Her brows rose at this, her excitement returning. "Please tell me you robbed a casino like in Ocean's Eleven."
"It wasn't like this," he rolled his eyes, "Seriously, you need to stop with these films."
Cassandra, however, simply dismissed him with a beaming face. "You didn't deny robbing one though.."
Pursing his lips, he grabbed his glass again and took a sip. Making her grin only wider.
"Wow.. how did you do it?"
"Surely won't tell you."
The pout found its way back onto her lips and he laughed under his breath. A whole medical doctor, ready to fight her colleague but now sitting there in front of him pouting like a child. She was something.
"Fine," she sighed then, giving up. Her eyes catching the guests at another table playing a boardsgame then. An idea popping up in her mind. She got up and before Taehyung could ask her where she was heading to, she walked to the bar. Returning a minute later with a pleased smile and a stack of playing cards.
Taehyung looking at her with suspicion.
"Let's play a game," she announced then as she started shuffling the cards in her hands and he stifled a laugh at the way she did it. Shoving one half into another and almost dropping some in the procedure. She was struggling a little, it was obvious. There were way too many cards for her smaller hands and she didn't have much practice either. It was cute. So he played along.
"Okay. What game?"
"Whatever you want, I know many."
His eyebrows arched. "Is that so?"
"Mhm," she smiled as she continued her painful looking shuffling. "But have in mind, whoever loses the round has to truthfully answer the winner's questions."
Of course, he snorted, it was a trick to get more details from him. He pitied her though, after all he was good in card games. That was how they robbed casinos after all, by playing and cheating. Although, he didn't think he'd even need to cheat this time.
"Are you sure? I'm pretty good."
"So am I."
His lips folded and he bit down on them. It was adorable how certain she seemed to be, believing she'd have any chance against him. So full of herself. However, he knew not to insult her pride so he decided to go with it.
"Alright. You know how to play Blackjack?"
Quite to his surprise, she nodded virgoriously. Placing the stack down in front of him. "Cut."
He did so, deviding the stack into two. Cassandra taking the one that was underneath, beginning dealing the first open card to him and herself. Then she dealt another open one only to him.
Six and a queen. Sixteen in total. Against her ten.
He looked at his cards, then at her. Determination was set on her soft features and he had to confess, he liked that look on her. 
If she drew a six, it'd be a draw. If she drew a seven, eight, nine, ten or an ace, she'd win.
He tapped his fingers on the table top, signaling he wanted another one.
"You sure?"
"I am."
A three. Nineteen in total.
A smug smirk growing on his features as he began playing with his necklace. "Try beating that."
Cassandra's lips moved from side to side, glancing up to see him smile at her with a pitiful look. She huffed. She knew only a ten, face card or ace could save her, but she knew there had to be one in the following cards. Her fingers laid on the deck dramatically before in a swift move, she revealed the top card.
And the corners of her lips curled up.
"King of hearts. I win, cool guy."
He clicked his tongue. "Beginner's luck," he said unimpressed and reached over to shuffle the cards this time. "But fine, a deal's a deal. What do you wanna know?"
"You know what."
Dragging out a sigh, he cut the stack in two to skillfully merge the cards. "While me and Yoongi distracted security by winning constantly and very obviously in the front, Jimin followed the staff bringing the money from the tables to the safes in the back."
Her eyes widened in awe. "That sounds so cool."
"It's not, it's very bad," he chuckled, eyeing her with a wink. "You forget I'm one of the bad guys."
Cassandra only smiled at this though, looking at him fondly before reaching for her own drink and averting her eyes from him.
"You aren't a bad guy, Tae, even if you tried."
He dealt them each one card, before giving her another one.
She had two sevens against his jack of spades.
She tapped her cards and he slid another one to her, but before he could open it, she grabbed his wrist. Giving him an amused smirk.
"What will you give me if I get another seven?"
Taehyung pursed his lips before shaking his head amused about her confidence of getting a Blackjack that quickly. "Don't try pulling a Bugs Bunny on me, there's no way."
Rising one of her brows, she accepted the unspoken dare and let go of his hand. Gesturing for him to open the dealt card. And he did. Observing how surprise drained off any smugness from his face.
A third seven staring back at him.
"Blackjack."
His brows furrowed and he blinked, trying to process what just happened. Eventually nodding then with folded lips. Trying keeping his cool. It was a mere coincidence, surely. "Fine, go ahead. What else do you wanna know?"
"Your necklace.." she said then, catching a glimpse of the golden chain peeking above his collar, "Is there a special reason it's a tiger?"
His eyes went round, following her gaze when his lips tucked into a faint smile. "Ah," he said then, while reminiscing the past for a moment. His eyes finding hers again. "When I was a kid my grandparents used to call me 'little tiger', or something like that. I don't remember exactly anymore, it's been twenty years after all."
"And you're wearing it ever since?"
He nodded, fumbling with the necklace shyly.
"That's sweet." Her voice quieter then she intended, "It must mean a lot to you."
".. yeah, I guess it does."
And she gave him a soft smile, understanding the sentiment behind it now and why he always wore it. Reaching over to get the stack of cards then.
Thirteen rounds and another round of wine later, they set the cards aside.
There were significantly more people around them now as an hour ago.
But Taehyung only had eyes for the young woman who was happily humming another victory tune. Not even trying hiding her joyous grinning anymore.
And he stared at her in admiration but also with a new found respect, feeling much more humbled than before. "How.. how did you do that?"
"Do what?" Cassandra innocently asked as she chunked down the last bit of her second glass of sangria.
She felt the alcohol beginning to kick in as she'd been mindlessly drinking too quickly, once again getting fooled by the sweet taste. She had to be careful if she didn't want to fall asleep or blurt out her deepest secrets. She'd already had to spill some embarrassing things tonight. Like her writing a love letter to her crush in middle school or almost getting caught cheating in a French test, also in middle school.
Taehyung scoffed as they left the table and walked out the bar. A pleasant fresh breeze brushing past their flushed cheeks the moment they exited. "You know what. You won ten out of fifteen rounds."
"Beginner's luck," she shrugged with a teasing grin, making him wet his dry lips before chewing on it musing.
It wasn't like she had persistent on hearing more details of the heist. Despite her liking the stories, as undetailed as he usually kept them, and as much as it was entertaining her to tease him, she respected the fact he didn't like or wanted to talk about them. Instead, she'd asked about other things, more general. Like his first crush or which one was his favorite place they'd been to. And he appreciated it. Hence why he wasn't mad that she beat him in most rounds. More the opposite, he found her beaming face cute whenever she did. He was rather astonished.
"Again, how did you do it?"
Cassandra, holding the small plant securely in her hands, only folded her lips to suppress a sassy remark. Instead she only hummed, pretending being clueless.
They walked down the street towards the beach. The streets glowing under warm lights of lamps and shops surrounding them. Loud laughs erupting from a group at one of the tables of a restaurant they passed by.
"C'mon, tell me," Taehyung pouted then, nudging her arm. His almost whiny tone making her giggle.
"Well, you shouldn't underastimate me next time," she said in a sing-song voice then. And he observed her for a moment with a fond smile.
This girl was full of surprises and perhaps not as pure as he made her out to be after all, he realised.
"I really shouldn't, you're right. So what's your secret, Doc? Are you a secret gambler?"
"Hm.. remember I told you growing up with my grandparents?"
He nodded.
"My grandpa was and still is a highly gifted card player," she explained then, "That's how we mostly passed our time together, so he showed me a thing or two. And as fate willed, we always play Blackjack on New Year's. So Taehyung, I don't wanna hurt your pride, but your skills are nothing compared to my grandpa's."
A nostalgic smile crossed her face as memories of endless summer nights spent playing cards with her grandparents flooded her mind. 
He laughed out at this. "To be honest, I'm relieved. Thought you'd tell me you got these skills from one of your films."
She puffed out a breath at his anew teasing of her love for the crime genre. "Oh please. I don't need films for that. My grandpa's the only person I've never beaten in any of these games unless he let me. So really, it wasn't hard to beat you."
"But Blackjack is pure luck, you can't win all the time unless you count cards."
"Was that what you guys did in Macau?" she smirked.
"No, I'm not good at it. I used a-" He abruptly cut himself mid-sentence. Grinning back at her. "Nice try."
She simply shrugged though. "I didn't count cards. I don't even know how to do that."
"Then how -"
"There are some other tricks which help giving you better chances."
"Like what?"
"Family secret."
And he rolled his eyes. "So your family's full of gambling geniuses?"
"No. Just my grandpa."
Cassandra was a book with many chapters, each one of them more thrilling and surprising than the other ones and he began to see her in a slightly different light.
She was still the kindhearted, smart, fun friend he knew. But there was more to her. Way more. He always knew there was more to her, but he couldn't say what. Now he found out one new facette of hers.
"You tricked me," he plainly stated then, making her laugh out.
"How so?"
"You never said you're a card playing mastermind. I feel betrayed."
She faked pity. "Aw. Can I somehow make it up to you?"
"I'll think of something and let you know."
Their gazes met, holding each other's with soft smiles.
Usually, he didn't have an issue looking someone directly in the eyes. In his job, he had to be able doing that without batting an eyelash. However, when it came to her and her gentle eyes, something inside him twitched. 
"Well," she slowly began then, letting her eyes wander to the water in the distance. The Mediterranean sea peeking between the building. "Think quickly. When you leave there's no way for me to make it up to you anymore. You'd have to wait till randomly visiting me again.."
Her tone was teasing but he could see a flicker of something more in her eyes before blinking it away. A secret she didn't want to speak out loud. Like the fact it was a pity and sad she couldn't stay in touch with him when he wasn't around.
She knew it wasn't possible. They didn't use phones except if necessary and even then, it was burner phones - untracable for interpol. And yet, she couldn't help but find it an undeniable pity. And he agreed with that.
"I'll hurry up, promise."
»»»
29th August
A week had passed by since Taehyung had stopped by and Cassandra was getting ready for her shift at the hospital. Getting mentally prepared to see Pavlo again after having been spared of his presence for two days. She was tying her shoes when her phone on the side table next to the entrance door lit up. A new text notification appearing on the screen.
[message request]: finally came up with smth :P
»»»
next chapter: 0.5 here
Don't forget to like, reblog & leave feedback!♡ It motivates me to keep writing :)
taglist: @lilanyxta @naoolammao345 @memna234 @tetehion @myblacklilame @nanakamami
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fairyboygenius · 1 month ago
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good luck, babe!
farah karim x original female character (part one)
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warnings: vague harassment (not by farah or josie), weird comment by bad character calling farah “exotic”, being mean to alex because he gets in the way of the lesbian love story (sorry alex/farah stans i don’t know why you’re still here )
She never should’ve agreed to come to this stupid bar.
Farah shifted awkwardly, the cup of Sprite spilling ever so slightly onto her top. Her eyes tracked the scene. Typical; the Brits causing trouble in a Chicago bar. Gaz and Soap ganging up on college boys at the pool table, Price trying to flirt with a twenty something by the bathrooms, Ghost looking at his phone (for sure just the weather app) with his drink in hand. Alex was at the bar getting him and Farah refills. And there she sat, on a high barstool, regarding over the bar as though she owned it. Quiet scrutiny disguised as class radiated off of her, sort of giving off a “don’t touch me” sort of energy.
“Hey, pretty thing.”
Farah looked down and immediately rolled her eyes. A bland looking man, one that had clearly just been playing pool with Soap and Gaz, leered up at her, eyes directly level with her tits. Fuckin’ fantastic. Just what this mediocre night needed.
“Not interested.”
He moved on, unbothered. “I’m Beau. Beau Hunter.”
“That means nothing to me.”
“It could, though. Could change whatever exotic last name I’m sure you have, give you mine.”
Rage suddenly wafted off her. “You little-“
“Hunter! Third strike.”
Farah felt her mouth go dry at the sight of her knight in shining armor. A woman, 30ish. Brunette. Hair in two braids. A honeyed Midwestern accent tinged with venom. A lavender carabiner shaped like a heart jingled against her belt loop, heavy with multiple sets of keys.
Farah’s heart skipped a beat. That was new.
Beau- the prick- stepped back, face falling. “Josie. Didn’t realize you were workin’ tonight.”
The hero- Josie- shook her head, a slight scent of vanilla and cinnamon hitting Farah’s nose. “Well, no, but I’ve got express permission from Brooke to kick you out even if I’m off the clock. Your presence is making the bar unsafe for everyone. Time’s up, daddy’s money.”
Farah stifled a laugh as Beau pouted, slamming his drink down before storming out of the bar. Didn’t even pay for it, the dick.
That gaze focused itself on Farah then, moving in closer. Vanilla hit her nose again. “Sorry about him. He’s just an overgrown frat boy.” She held out her hand. “Josette, most people call me Josie or Jo. You haven’t earned my last name yet.”
Farah raised an eyebrow. “Earned it?”
Josie shrugged. “Why not add a little mystery into your trip? I’m assuming you’re not a local. Gonna make you work for it, a little bit.”
Farah laughed, surprising herself. “Farah, then. Farah Karim.”
“No mystery for you?”
“Deal with that enough in my job.”
Josie raised an eyebrow. She had a septum ring, Farah noticed. It looked good on her. “I’m assuming you can’t tell me, otherwise you’ll have to kill me, so I’ll let it slide. This your first time in Chicago?”
Farah shook her head. Maybe being around drunk people helped you feel drunk too, because her head was swimming. “Haven’t gotten much of a chance to explore the city. I love this neighborhood.”
“I’ve lived here my whole life. It’s probably my favorite place on Earth.” Josie held eye contact for a few more seconds before looking over at the bar, where Price seemed to have succeeded in his flirtations. He was passionately kissing the young girl, his hand sliding up her shirt. Josie and Farah both winced at the sight.
Farah groaned. “Sorry. My colleague seems to have forgotten that other people can see him.”
“It’s not your fault.” Josie sighed, crossing her arms over her ample chest. Farah tried not to let her eyes linger on the cleavage amplified by that one simple motion. What was going on with her? “I’m not on the clock, neither are you. It’s frankly none of our business if your boss is feeling up a teenybopper.”
Farah barked out a laugh. “You’ve got a way with words, for sure.”
“I just tell it like it is, sweetheart.”
Farah instantly felt blood rush to her face, blinking rapidly. There was a funny feeling in her chest, like a glitter bomb exploded or someone had shaken up a soda bottle.
“Oh, hey, Farah. I’m sorry, I got caught up talking with the bartender.” Alex touched her arm gently. Alex. She noticed a flash of disappointment in Josie’s eyes and immediately wanted to throttle him.
“Alex. Hey.” Farah took a sip of her drink, then gestured towards Josie. “This is Josie. You’ve gotta earn the right to know her last name.”
Josie recovered quickly, plastering on a smile. “Nice to meet you.”
Alex smiled, ever polite. “You too.” He turned to Farah then. “You ready to go?”
She nodded, eyes flickering back to Josie. “I’ll be ready in a second. Meet you outside.”
“Okay.” Alex pecked her cheek before turning away. Farah felt herself cringe on the inside. She took a deep breath before turning back to Josie.
“I’d love to get your number, so we could hang out when I’m in Chicago. I’m around too much testosterone as it is.”
Josie smiled. It seemed a bit forced. “I’ll give you my number.”
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too-damn-joji · 1 month ago
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In Your Dreams
Welcome to my first ever fanfic!
Theme: Y/N x Han. After having a random and intense dream about Han Jisung, someone you see at work every day, you're unable to look him in the eye. Noticing, he keeps pressing you for details on why you're blushing every time you two talk.
Contains: Fluff, the beginning of something, build up, small mention of sexual content. Next chapter will probably contain actual sexual content.
Word count: Around 1100
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Normally, if you weren't having some kind of nightmare, your dreams were just made up of things you'd seen that week jumbled with the typical fantastical nonsense everyone dreams about. But this morning - when you needed to be focused and professional for the day - you were woken up mid-climax while dreaming about Han Jisung underneath you.
You'd become friends over the last few months of working together, and knowing that you were going to be colleagues for a while longer, you'd been careful not to spend much time thinking about how cute he was.
That had been becoming harder lately. His hair had grown out to a frustratingly attractive length...
Today, you were heading to a camp ground location for a new SKZ episode. As a creative brand lead, going on shoots was the most fun part of your role.
Most recently, your job had taken you to South Korea, and though you always planned to keep on travelling country to country, you've been here now for over half a year. Working with idols was a huge step up career-wise, but that wasn't exactly the only reason you were staying so long.
By the time you're on location helping to mock up the sets, overlooking the scripts and member's missions, getting things looking 'Stray Kids', Han had come over to chat a handful of times already. You couldn't help but be kind of standoff-ish and you were sure he'd noticed.
Now, with filming kicking off soon, he was heading back over, freshly dressed and made up, looking too good.
"Y/Nnnie, I gotta know what today's missions are! One hint." He pouted sarcastically.
You couldn't help but smile back, "No. They're easy anyway, you'll be fine."
"One hint. One hint and I'll buy you lunch."
"Wow, we've got a big spender today!" You joke. "Lunch is free on shoots." While the two of you are joking around, you're unable to meet his eyes properly, images from the dream flashing into your mind's eye. It feels like if you make eye contact, he'll be able to see them too. Your cheeks go red.
He notices. Dammit, he notices. "What?" He leans down, trying to catch your eye, "What is it?"
Your stomach twists; this is a workplace and he is a work friend, not to mention famous and way out of your league, act normal. You give in to get him to leave, "Fine one hint; don't pick a red card, try to grab a blue one, the blue mission is way better." You attempt a normal smile and brief eye contact. Totally nonchalant. Completely relaxed.
He continues to look at you for a beat before he responds, assessing, "You've never given in before! I'm not complaining but, you okay?"
"Yeah, of course. See you later for my super expensive lunch." You pat his arm and go to join the rest of the staff. That brief bit of physical contact will be the only touch you two have - and that's definitely enough. Or it'll have to be.
The first half of the shoot goes well, Han snags a blue mission card and manages to sneak you a wink. Some of the morning's highlights include Seungmin sabotaging Changbin's mission, Lee Know threatening the lives of two other members, Chan getting way too into his role and Hyunjin finding a place to lay flat on his back and nap mid-mission.
Han finds you on the break. "You're so lucky this episode doesn't involve us cooking, I'm pretty sure that's almost the opposite of buying you lunch."
"You guys aren't that bad at cooking, just... don't offer me whatever it was you made last time ever again." You're about to make an excuse about needing to work through the break instead of joining him when he pulls you by the elbow to the food truck.
"Let's go, we've gotta beat everyone else to the good stuff."
Now, food in hand, he picks a spot to eat a little ways away from everyone else and sits down next to you. Before taking a bite, he asks, "So what's up? You've been a bit... weird? today."
You're painfully aware that your hips and thighs are touching as you glance up, feigning surprise. Somehow, you've managed to make a living off content marketing despite a genuine inability to lie. "I'm sorry. It's nothing, really. Just ignore me."
He bumps against you playfully. "I could never ignore you, y/nnie. Is something wrong?" He takes a big bite and looks at you with wide eyes, and the image of him being so earnest while stuffing his face makes you giggle. "What?" He asks, eyes going wider.
You sigh, deciding on a half truth and say, "I just had some weird dreams last night and they've been on mind all day. I'll forget about it soon enough and be back to normal."
He covers his mouth, still chewing, as he says, "Oh no! Like nightmares? Wait, you told me once that you get bad nightmares sometimes, you okay?"
You take a bite of your own lunch before answering. "Nah. More like the opposite of a nightmare, though last week I had this one nightmare where JYP was 10 foot tall and if you messed up a dance routine he'd come and control you like a puppet til you got it right."
Han laughs out loud, making you smile just to see him happy. "If JYP was a giant puppeteer I would be in so much trouble."
You guys fall into your natural rhythm and chat about nothing in particular while you finish eating, then stand up ready to get back to work.
Before you go though, he grabs your arm again, looks at you with a confused frown. "Wait, you said the dream was the opposite of a nightmare? How does a good dream make you act weird all morning?"
This time, your blush isn't just on your cheeks, it's your whole face and even your neck. Han looks at you strangely, like he's putting two-and-two together and your expression goes from embarrassed to horrified. Thankfully, he's called away by Chan, who's loudly yelling at him that it's time to start. He gives your arm a squeeze and heads back to set.
This is so not professional. Or how friends should act. You swallow thickly and go grab some water to cool off. You'll think of a funny excuse of a dream before you two chat again and then he'll never feel like his colleague was hinting at something sexual.
An hour later, you get a message from Han. You look up to see him sneakily using his phone while Felix and I.N. are doing their piece to camera.
Hannie: "You're right, free lunch on a shoot doesn't count. Let me take you out tomorrow for a real one?"
When you look back up, he's glancing in your direction and this time he's blushing. You write back, telling him that sounds great.
It's lunch between friends, right? He's probably going to bring one of the other members or staff. Your stomach being full of butterflies right now while your mind vividly replays last night's dream is just your own personal problem.
You focus on the shoot for the rest of the afternoon, trying to ignore how much you want to check your phone for another message from Han.
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