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winchesterwild78 · 2 days ago
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Happy New Year pt 2
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Master List
 Read Part 1 here
Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, mentions of Danneel, reader’s husband, and other people. 
Warnings: angst, mentions of cheating, divorce, fluff
A/N: This story was supposed to be a one shot, but so many are asking for a second part. So here it is. There will be a time jump by a few months in this part. 
Jensen and Reader are co-workers and ended up at the same New Year’s Eve party. They had sex in the bathroom, and we learn this isn’t the first time they’ve been together.
This is a work of fiction, and I don’t condone cheating, but that’s what this story was about. 
Written fast and not edited well. Please overlook any errors. 
All work is my own, please don’t take it in any way. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. 
Minors DNI 18+
The next few months were a whirlwind. Our break from filming was coming to an end and we were due back on set soon. Jensen and I kept in touch through text, and occasionally would find time to see each other. 
I couldn’t help it, I was falling for him. 
I knew it was dangerous. He’s married and so am I, but being with him, being in his arms I felt like I was all that mattered to him. 
We both have obligations, and commitments. His were to Danneel and their children, and mine were to my husband. Since the New Years Eve party my husband and I drifted further apart. He was consumed with which celebrities I could introduce him to, and of course the money I was making that was setting him up for a very comfortable lifestyle. 
At the end of February we finally hit the wall. “I can’t take this anymore. You’re more worried about which celebrity I can introduce you to, or how much money I’m bringing home than you are me. I’ve been sick for weeks and you haven’t noticed or cared. I’m done. I need you to leave.” 
He didn’t even argue, he packed his things and left. I sat on the couch and cried. Part of me was relieved we were done, but then the loneliness began to set in. 
I decided to keep the breakup to myself, at least for now. I was due back on set in a few days, and didn’t want to distract anyone, especially Jensen. 
I packed and headed to Toronto. Walking into the apartment I rented I let out the breath I’d been holding for what felt like months. 
Unpacking, I took inventory of everything I needed and grabbed my jacket to head to the store. My phone went off with a notification.
Jensen: Hey sweetheart. I’m in town early. I’d like to see you if you’re up to it.
I bit my lip. The last time I saw him, a few weeks ago, he held me and we talked about our future. He told me he wanted to be with me, but wasn’t sure how we could make it work. Especially with the kids involved. I understood, but I’d be lying if it didn’t break my heart a little. 
We poured our hearts out to each other, said everything including “I love you”. I felt it, and I know he did too. 
Me: Yeah, hey. I’m heading to the store, but I can message you when I get back. Want to come over here?
Jensen: Yeah. I’d love to. See you soon, sweetheart.
My heart fluttered. I headed to the store and grabbed the things I needed and went home. Putting up the groceries I got a notification on my phone. It was an Instagram post from Danneel. 
It was a picture of the kids and Jensen. She captioned it with “We are really missing daddy right now. First birthday in a few years we won’t get to spend with him. We love you and can’t wait to celebrate when we come to see you.” 
I felt my heart ache. The guilt and weight of our infidelity hung heavy over me and in my heart. 
Jensen’s birthday was in two days. I had planned to cook dinner for him and bake him a cake, but now I’m not sure he’d want that. Her post made me second guess everything. Were they still in love? Were they working it out? Was I just a way for him to pass the time when he was away from her? 
I sent him a message to tell him I was home and he replied he was on his way. 
About 20 minutes later there was a knock on the door. I opened it to see Jensen standing there looking absolutely incredible. 
“Hey sweetheart. You look beautiful.” I smiled, “You’re looking pretty good yourself there Ackles.” 
He pulled me in for a hug and pushed me into the apartment, closing the door with his foot. 
His lips crashed on mine in a heated kiss and I moaned in his mouth. When we pulled apart Jensen cupped my face, “God I missed you.” “I missed you too, Jensen.” 
I turned to walk away and he took my hand, “Hey, what’s wrong?” I couldn’t look at him. The post from Danneel, my marriage falling apart, my feelings for him all became too much. The tears I held back started to fall. 
“Hey, shh, what’s wrong sweetheart, talk to me. Please.” His fingers tilted my chin up to look at him. 
Looking in his green eyes made my heart flutter and ache at the same time. “I don’t know what to do, Jensen. I made him leave. We’re done. This, what we have is becoming too much. Jensen, I’m in love with you. I don’t know when it happened, but I fell in love with you. I know you have D, love her and the kids, hell I get it. You have a perfect wife and children, a perfect life and then you have me. I think I need to take a step back from us. You and D deserve a chance to fix whatever pushed you into my arms. I think you should go.” 
Jensen stood there looking at me, wiping the tears that fell. “Baby, don’t say that. D and I aren’t in a good place. We’ve talked about divorce. Neither one of us is happy. Please, baby, don’t push me away.” “Jensen, talking about divorce and splitting up are two very different things. I love you Jensen, but I can’t keep doing this. I saw her Instagram post. I know I’m just the other woman.” 
He nodded, wiped the tears that fell and placed a soft kiss on my forehead. “I know, and for what it’s worth, I love you too. You’re not the other woman, you’re my world, but I understand.” Then he walked out the door. 
I collapsed in the chair and sobbed. I was so utterly alone. I cried so hard I started vomiting and couldn’t stop. 
After crying all I could, and emptying all the contents of my stomach, I curled on the couch and looked through the photos on my phone. The ones of Jensen and I, the stolen moments we spent with each other. Jensen was the love of my life and I made him leave. The hole in my heart grew. 
Our first day back on set was Jensen’s birthday. The cast and crew sang Happy Birthday, made him a cake, and planned a dinner to celebrate. I stood in the back of the sound stage and watched him smile and thank everyone for their wishes. 
One of the other writers came up to me, “Hey, Y/N, you okay?” “Yeah, just feeling a little under the weather. Figured I’d stand over here in case I’m contagious.” I chuckled lightly. 
“Are you coming out tonight for Jensen’s birthday dinner?” “I don’t know. I think I’m going to head home and sleep for a bit. If I start feeling better then I might.” 
She nodded, placed a hand on my shoulder and left. When I looked up I made eye contact with Jensen. He smiled softly, but I turned and walked away. 
I couldn’t shake the sickness, and I was starting to get concerned. I’d been sick for weeks. At first I chalked it up to stress, but this felt different. I felt different. 
Then Jensen’s voice echoed in my head, “I’m gonna fuck a baby into this pussy. Let everyone know who you belong to.” 
Did I, could I… All I could think about was the night at the party. We’d always been so careful, even afterwards. That night however, Jensen didn’t use protection. 
On my way home I stopped at the store and grabbed 3 different tests just to be sure. 
Once in the safety of my apartment I carefully read the instructions for each test. Stepping into the bathroom I took each test and laid them on the counter. 
I nervously paced and my head spun with different scenarios. I knew if I was pregnant the baby was Jensen’s. My husband hadn’t touched me since before Halloween, and Jensen was the only other person I had been with. 
My heart hammered in my chest. What would I do if I was pregnant? Would Jensen even want the baby? Would I? 
The timer went off and I looked at the tests. The first test, two lines. The second test, a line and plus sign. The final test is just one word “pregnant”. 
My breath hitched. My hands were shaking and I felt the bile rise in my throat. 
“Oh my god.” I whispered. “What am I going to do?” I stood in the bathroom staring at the three tests. I had no idea what I was going to do. I had just left my husband, and made Jensen leave. I was completely alone. 
My phone went off with a notification, it was a text from Libby, another co-worker.
Libby: Girl, you need to come out tonight. It’s going to be so much fun. I know something is wrong, but nothing a little alcohol can’t fix. 
I chuckled a little, and touched my belly, “That’s what you think.”
Me: I’ll be there. Not sure about the alcohol, still not feeling great, but I’ll be there.
Libby: Great! I’ll save you a seat. See you later. 
I jumped in the shower, the tests still sitting on the counter. A reminder of what hung heavy over me. 
I got ready and headed to the restaurant. When I walked in I was ushered to a back room where the party was going on. I heard Jensen’s laugh before I even stepped in the room. 
Libby saw me and walked over, pulling me into a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.” I nodded and smiled. I walked over to the bar and asked for a glass of water. As I turned I made eye contact with Jensen from across the room. 
His smile grew when he saw me. I smiled back and turned away. I couldn’t look at him. The secret I carried in me was too much.
We all took our seats at the table, and I was directed to sit next to Eric, who was sitting near Jensen. I looked over at the empty chair, Of course it’s right beside Jensen. 
I took my seat and took a deep breath. I looked over at Jensen, my voice shaky, “Happy Birthday, Jensen. I hope you get everything you wish for.” He leaned in and hugged me, whispering in my ear, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” As he pulled back he placed a soft kiss on my cheek. 
My breath hitched. 
Throughout the dinner, Jensen’s hand rested on my thigh. When he first put it down I looked over at him and he started to move it, but I placed my hand on his. He left it. 
I realized sitting next to him he had a right to know. I needed to tell him. I excused myself and went to the restroom. I pulled out my phone and sent him a text. 
Me: Hey, I think we should talk. Want to come by later?
Jensen: Absolutely. Thank you baby.
Me: Don’t thank me yet. I’m not sure you’re going to be happy with what I need to tell you.
Jensen: There isn’t anything you can tell me that’s going to upset me. Well, except you never want to see me again. 
Me: Okay, well after this, come over so we can talk. 
Jensen: I’ll be there sweetheart.
I went back to the table. About an hour later we were saying our goodbyes and I headed home. 
Ten minutes later Jensen was at my door. “Hey, beautiful.” “Hey, Jens. Come on in.” 
He walked in. I half expected him to kiss me like he always did when he walked in, but he didn’t. I felt a pang of sadness rush through my body.
I motioned to the couch, “Want to have a seat?” He nodded, shrugged off his jacket and sat down. 
“Jensen, I, um, don’t know how to start this conversation.” Jensen took my hand, “Sweetheart, whatever it is, you can tell me. No matter what, I love you.”
My breath hitched, “I love you too Jensen, this is so hard. I do love you. So much, and I want to be with you. This is just so damn complicated.” 
“Baby, I want to be with you too. I know everything is complicated.” I shook my head, “No, Jensen. I’ve just complicated things more.” 
Jensen looked confused, “Baby, no you haven’t.” I swallowed hard, feeling like I was going to vomit.
“Jensen, I’m pregnant.” The words just slipped out faster than I’d expected. He sat stunned. “What? Are you sure?” I nodded. 
“Yeah, I’m sure. I took 3 tests and I realized I haven’t had my cycle in over 2 months. I know it’s yours too.” 
He just sat there and looked at me. I was terrified. The longer the silence between us stretched on, the more my anxiety ran through every scenario it could. 
I couldn’t take the silence any longer, “Jensen. I don’t expect anything from you. I just thought you should know. Nobody will know you’re the father. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” 
I just sobbed. His silence hurt me more than if he told me he didn’t want the baby. 
His arms wrapped around me and he pulled me close to him, “Shh baby. It’s okay. This isn’t your fault. We did this, we made this baby together. I’m not going anywhere. I love you and I love this baby. We’re having a baby.” 
He pulled me on his lap and kissed my lips. 
When I leaned back I looked in his eyes. They were full of love and excitement. “You’re not mad?” 
He cupped my face, “Mad? Why would I be mad, baby? I remember telling you at the New Years Eve party I wanted to put a baby in you. Well, I guess I did.” He chuckled. 
“Jensen, what about D?” “We’ve decided to move forward with the divorce. We don’t want to stay together just for the kids and end up hating each other. Baby, you don’t worry about her. You need to keep yourself stress free and healthy for the baby.” He placed his hand on my belly. “How the hell did I get so lucky? I found the love of my life and we’re having a baby.” 
He pulled me to his lips and kissed me softly. His hands trailed up my body and into my hair. He pulled me in deeper as his tongue fought for dominance in my mouth. 
I felt my arousal pooling between my legs. His hands digging into the flesh of my hips, pulling me down onto him. 
Our moans filled the apartment. “Jens take me to our room.” 
He smiled against my mouth, “Yes ma’am.” He lifted me up like I weighed nothing. I protested the whole way. 
He laughed and when we went to the room he gently laid me on the bed. 
As he stood back he looked down at me, “you’re so damn beautiful, sweetheart. I can’t believe we’re having a baby.” 
Before we made love he stopped and chuckled, “Guess we don’t need protection, do we?” I laughed, “No, I guess not.” We made love like it was the first time. 
Everything that weighed us down was gone. The things that kept us separated, gone. Laying in his arms I felt safe and loved. 
“Thank you sweetheart. Thank you for letting me come over and for giving me the best birthday gift ever.” He placed his hand on my belly and kissed my lips. 
“You’re welcome, Jensen. Happy Birthday, baby. I love you.” “I love you too, Darlin.” 
Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.  
Tags: 
@nescaveckwriter @kr804573 
@k-slla @jackles010378 
@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 
@roseblue373 @cheynovak 
@jassackles  @chriszgirl92
@suckitands33 @arcannaa 
@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 
@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 
@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 
@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 
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@superrey @kamisobsessed
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@spnaquakindgdom @djs8891
@pughsexual @spnaquakindgdom
@lunaleah @believeinthefireflies95
@chi-raz
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harunade · 1 day ago
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moots . zhang hao
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pairing: camboy!zhang hao x camgirl!reader
synopsys: the drought in your wallet made you start being a camgirl. not only did you never expect it do go so well, you never expected a camboy to donate a large sum of money to you and ask you to collab.
wc: ~1.2k
warnings: mdni!! no smut, fingering, not that much written smut lmao.. simp zhanghao lowkey
a/n: slightly modified version of my anon’s ask!! This is very different frim my usual type of writing so i hope you will love it :’)) if this gets love i might post a part2 :)) stay tuned!!
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Nobody particularly knew about your side hustle of being a camgirl, but you didn’t have the heart to tell anyone either. It had started off with you needing some extra cash, and your friend sarcastically suggesting it.
“Your body is tea, Y/n. If i were you i would definitely post that ass online and get my money up” it was supposed to have come as only a joke from Heejin, the friend that has been with you through your ups and downs, but you actually started considering it.
You could vividly remember opening the erotic site and signing up. “that should be good” you murmured as you created your account. lovelyyn it read.
For the next few days, you started at your blank account with 0 followers. Creating it was supposed to be the hard part, right? Well, no, you actually had to post on it as well. Nobody was going to donate to a ghost.
With hair rolls in your hair, you got ready to post your first picture on said account. Your makeup was flawless, and it accentuated your features. The red lipstick that sat boldly on your plump lips matched perfectly the lingerie set that you planned on wearing.
The flash snapped in your mirror, capturing a picture of you. A very teasing one, at that. You were in a sitting position, your thighs exposed and red lace barely covering the rest of your body. Your face wasn’t that visible, but that was okay. You didn’t want anyone to know it was you, yet.
Uploaded!
The next morning you naturally woke up before your 8 am alarm. Although you had classes to attend soon, there was something else on your mind that kept you from sleeping any longer.
Hurriedly opening your laptop, you opened the site and checked your stats.
10 followers 12 likes and 3 comments
“That’s not too bad for my first day” you thought to yourself. Deciding to read the comments, all of the complimented you and suggested that you would go live
Unbeknownst to you, going live was definitely better than posting pictures. That way, people can comment in real time, you can talk to them and they can donate! That was certainly next on your to do list.
It felt as if the planets had aligned for this very moment, because you had a very rough day at uni. Everything that could have gone wrong did in fact go wrong. That meant that your car ran out of gas in the middle of the road, you were late to the first class which just happened to be the most important one, and you forgot to pack a lunch, so you starved all day. But you decided to make the most out of this unfortunate series of events. Yes, you were stressed, but that stress had to be relieved somehow, right?
“Going live in 30 minutes!!! Join & see me play with myself xxx “ you wrote and posted on your account.
You had 30 minutes to get ready. You could already see notifications popping on your phone and laptop, so you took it as a good sign.
“Would it be weird if i wore the same thing twice?” you wondered as you slipped in your red lingerie once again. Even your make up was similar to the one from the previous day, but nobody would notice it anyway.
“hii guys” you shily waved at the camera. While people were still joining the livestream, you checked yourself in the camera. The slightly lower resolution your laptop made you stick out even more, because of the contrast of colours and what else.
Shortly after, you got to work. Your camera was adjusted slightly, so it could fit your whole figure that laid in your undone bed. As soon as you shoved two of your fingers in your pussy, the donations started coming in. The rage varied. Someone would done $1, someone else $5 and someone even gave you $20. This sure wasn’t hard!
Things were going smoothly until you glanced at the chat. So far, messages were calling you beautiful or suggested that you changed the angle. Now, they were full of something else
@/ilovemarklee: omg hes here!!!
@/orbittillidie: i cant believe it TT
@/randomuserjwnsn: HES ASKING TO COLLAB???
You were a little confused to say the least. Who was asking to what? You stopped your actions mid way, and although the sense of loss was present, your curiosity took over. “What are you guys even talking about?” you chucked as you scrolled up and read comments you had missed. Then you saw it.
@/sheloveshao: wanna collab, pretty? ;)
You were intrigued by this person’s appearance. You weren’t that familiar with this website yet. Sure, you browsed once or twice (or thrice..) before, but never really memorised anyone’s username. You only had one guy that you like and that was about it.
After the live ended, you checked the balance. You were pretty confident, donations kept coming in, so you must have made at least $100. Even if it was a little less, that would be okay. You only needed $50 to assure gas for the next 2 weeks. “$324” ????? You couldn’t believe your eyes. When did it even get to that point? You had to see it for yourself.
Donation list:
@/ilovehaechan sent $10
@/loonaforever sent $1
@/sheloveshao sent $200
“What?? This is insane” who was this guy? and how could he afford to send you so much money?
After scrolling in his account, your mouth was left hanging open. He had a community of 100 thousand followers… and he was fine as hell. Not only was he very beautiful and fit, he was very familiar to you. Oh. He was the guy you liked. And he sent you basically this month’s rent? What was going on..?
After pondering for a bit, you decided to message him. The worse he could say is no, right?
@/lovelyyn: hi there :) saw you commenting on my livestream earlier && your donation. thank you so so much!!
@/sheloveshao: don’t mention it dear. are you new here? don’t think i’ve seen you before
@/lovelyyn: yeah actually!! this was my first livestream:’) started yesterday
@/sheloveshao: i see~~ maybe we can collab one day ;)
@/lovelyyn: well.. i definitely wouldn’t oppose! keep in touch?
@/sheloveshao: you know it
After the conversation ended, your cheeks were burning with heat. This guy had a way of talking that shot right through you. You were sure you would spend the next hours binge watching his account. Said and done, you weren’t surprise to see he was like a Greek god, and possibly one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.
This arose a question in you. Will you actually collab with him? What would that even mean?
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professor-hershel-gayton · 4 months ago
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*music starts playing*
Dear Professor,
On this pleasant Hershel Haturday, I have decided to submit to you a puzzle. Imagine you are a bus driver in London. On the first stop, 2 persons get out of the bus. On the second stop, 1 person gets out of the bus. On the third one, 3 persons get in and 4 go out. On the last stop, everyone gets out.
How old is the driver and where is he?
(Hint: Luke can try to solve this puzzle too, however, the answer will be different depending on who solves the puzzle)
Have a nice day,
Anon
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Meanwhile…
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leonardalphachurch · 5 days ago
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okay that’s done. no commentary for the news posts bc those are just news.
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navybrat817 · 2 months ago
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Knock You Down a Peg or Two
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Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Someone learns the hard way that it's a bad idea to upset Bucky's wife.
Word Count: Over 1.5k
Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader), protective vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: I'm in a mood, lovelies. We can consider this in the same universe as Mr. and Mrs. Barnes and Handsome and Beautiful. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Bucky was no longer the Winter Soldier. He told himself every day he wasn't a cold killer anymore. He did his best to make amends and worked hard to clear his name. From time to time though, people pushed his buttons and got under his skin. You helped him brush it off. Their opinions didn't matter at the end of the day, only yours.
You mattered to him more than anything else. So, if someone bothers him, yeah, he could let it go. Someone upsetting you? He wouldn't stand for it.
Bucky's eyes narrowed as he spotted the little weasel sitting at the table in the break room alone. A few hours ago, you called him to vent about how this guy repeatedly tried to make you look bad in front of your superior during a meeting. It wasn’t the first time either. Your tears of frustration were obvious by your tone on the other end, though you tried to hide them. You worked hard, harder than anyone else he knew, and you took your job seriously.
He saw red when he heard you sniffle and it was the only color he had seen since then.
“Give me his name.”
“Bucky, no,” you had argued. “The guy’s a prick and I just needed to vent, so you don’t-”
“Please, baby,” he whispered, knowing full well you could handle yourself, but you were his wife and someone took joy out of your day. Not just that, they made you cry. He took this personally and he wanted to defend you. “Just give me his name so I can take care of it.”
You softly gave him the name, and he made it a priority to find the asshole. It didn’t take him long. No one even questioned why he was asking. It must’ve been his “murder strut” and glare. You once said it could break even the strongest of people.
He headed toward the empty chair beside the agent, careful not to make a sound. His stealth assisted with that. Once he reached the chair though, he made it a point to scrap the chair across the floor to get the prick's attention. The annoyance in his eyes quickly shifted to fear when he realized who he was looking at.
Good. He hoped he pissed his pants.
He made a show of slipping off his leather jacket before taking a seat, making sure the agent got a good look at his metal arm. He also made a show of getting one of his knives out, one you gifted him. “I think we can skip the introductions since you know who I am and I really don't give a shit who you are,” he began, his voice low as he twirled the knife between his fingers. “But I understand you know my wife and, well, she’s the reason I’m here.”
The guy blinked when Bucky made eye contact, the blade still expertly weaving in his hand. “S-Sure. Everyone knows your wife.”
Bucky smiled softly, taking a second to glance at his wedding band. “I’m usually not one to brag, but I can’t help it when it comes to her. She works hard and deserves all the praise she gets, but she’s still humble. Appreciative. Loyal,” he boasted, still smiling before he glared again. “She’d never throw anyone under the bus, especially in front of a superior.”
The little weasel cleared his throat, sitting up a bit straighter in his chair. He seemed to notice for the first time that they were the only two people there. “Look, I don’t know what your wife said, but-”
Bucky pointed the blade at him. “I would think very carefully about what comes out of your mouth next,” he snarled, his eyes as cold as ice.
There was a beat of silence as the guy squirmed in his seat and averted his gaze. Bucky wished you were there to see it. And Steve and Sam. “I may have run my mouth a bit. I just wanted to knock her down a peg or two, you know? She keeps getting promoted and…” he swallowed when Bucky’s eyes narrowed to slits. If this fucker even thought about implying that you slept your way to get where you were today, he may actually cut his throat. “Please, don't kill me.”
The silence after that statement may have been uncomfortable for some, but Bucky didn’t break a sweat. No, he was just thinking of all the different ways he could put him in the hospital for even thinking he had a right to put you down. Putting the knife away, he slowly got to his feet. “Get up,” he said quietly, flexing his hands in intimidation.
“Fuck.” The man nearly knocked his chair over as he stood. “Listen, I’m sorry,” he blurted out, putting his hands out in front of him. “I’ll apologize to her first thing tomorrow, I swear.”
“You think that makes up for it? And are you sorry for trying to make her look bad or are you sorry that you’re under my radar now?” Bucky’s stare remained steady as he knocked his chair out of the way, the piece of furniture nearly splintering when it hit the wall. “Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but do you know what happens to people who upset. My. Wife?”
Bucky refused to say that you cried. The asshole might take that as a sign of victory and he wouldn’t give him any sort of win. He didn’t deserve it. He didn't deserve to be in the same space as you.
The guy’s mouth parted as he took a few steps back on shaky legs. “I-It won’t happen again! I swear!”
“No, it won't, but how about I cut your tongue out so you can’t run your mouth again? Maybe pull out your teeth, too?” Bucky knocked the table away next as he advanced. “Or how about your eyes so you won’t look at her either. Hell, I’ll settle for taking your arm. We’ll match.”
The man let out what sounded like a whimper, his teeth nearly chattering from his fear. Scaring people had given him nightmares, haunted him, but it fueled his fire when he terrified anyone in your honor. “I won’t bother her ever again! I’ll tell my boss she deserves another promotion! I'll transfer! You have my word! I’m sorry!”
Bucky laughed after a moment, a bitter, chilling sound before he held up a hand. “I’m just fucking with you.”
His eyes were still wide with fear. “W… What?”
“I was just trying to scare you a little. You should see the look on your face,” Bucky chuckled again, lightly smacking the guy’s cheek. “Listen, you don’t have to transfer and I’m not going to torture you. Just apologize to my girl and we’re good, okay?”
“Okay.” He let out a breath and chuckled, too. “You really won’t torture me?”
“No, I won’t,” he grinned, grabbing his shoulders. “But I will knock you down a peg or two.”
The prick didn’t see the headbutt coming, but he felt it before he hit the ground. Bucky knew he’d feel it in the morning, too. He got off lucky.
“You know, after you apologize to my wife, I hope you do stay so you can see her continue to thrive,” Bucky toed the guy’s body with his boot. “And speaking of, I need to go buy her some flowers, chocolate, and wine. She deserves it.”
Grabbing his jacket from the broken chair across the room and brushing it off, he whistled as he left the room. He waited until he was a good distance away to call. You picked up on the second ring.
“Hey.” You sounded much better than you did earlier. “So, what’s the damage?”
“Hey, baby,” he smiled. “I headbutted the prick. And before you ask, my head feels great.”
The former assassin may get suspended for that and damaging the table and chair, but he doubted the asshole would have the balls to speak up about what happened.
“Bucky…” you sighed. You were probably pinching the bridge of your nose. “What am I gonna do with you?”
“You’re gonna let me eat you for dessert when I get home,” he smirked. Not that he needed an excuse to dive between your legs, but he'd take any chance he had. “Figure I'll give you at least two orgasms before dinner.”
“Is that right, Mr. Barnes?”
“That is right, Mrs. Barnes.”
The sound of your giggle spread warmth through his chest. Your happiness was his happiness. “Better not keep me waiting,” you teased, pausing for a beat. “Thank you.”
“Nothing to thank me for,” he said. You always stuck up for him without question.
“Love you.”
His heart swelled more. “Love you, too.”
He’d have some more explaining to do once he got home and would probably have to pay for the damage he caused. He was also sure that you were plotting the demise of the man’s career and would tell him that he didn’t need to do anything, but he wanted to. He was no longer the Winter Soldier.
But he was your husband and he’d defend you with his life, no matter what.
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Violence isn't the answer, but this is fanfiction and we all deserve a loving Bucky. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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whorelaud · 18 days ago
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bf!Rafe making it up to his stubborn girlfriend <3 a/n a lil smthin based on this post eheh!!
A weary sigh escaped your throat, as you boredly scrolled through tiktok, with your boyfriend mere inches away, too busy conversing with Topper on the phone to direct his attention to you. 
You knew how important business was for Rafe, but sometimes it got out of hand, with him forgetting himself on the phone, taking one call after another, completely abandoning you on his bed (like you’re one of his night stands; in your words). 
Your lips tugged into a smile when you stumbled upon a funny video, chuckling as you sent it to Rafe, though you could’ve easily moved across the bed and shoved it in his face. That wasn’t a choice right now, as you were mad at him, too upset to humor him with silly cats whom you referred to as ‘us’ when you sent it to him. 
The ping ringed through Rafe’s ear, earning a puzzled look out of the latter when he checked the notification, and noticed it was a video from you. He turned in your direction, eyebrows quirking with confusion, almost as if he was seeking an explanation for his silent question. 
You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you shuffled around in bed, until you were no longer facing your boyfriend, giving him your back instead. You got back to scrolling through tiktok, hoping Rafe would get the hint and finally call it off for the night. 
And he did, coming up with a random excuse to get rid of Topper, not giving him a chance to question Rafe before the boy already hung up, immediately checking the video you sent. You suppressed the smile forming on your lips as the sound of his giggles erupted through your ears, spiraling a fit of excitement through your chest. 
“What is this?!” He asked, leaning against the bed frame, lips pursing into a pout when he didn't receive a response in return. “Hello? Baby?” Rafe paused for a moment, gaze fully fixed on you, in hopes of earning your attention. He scoffed, finally understanding what you were doing. “Are you ignoring me?” 
His attention shifted back to the screen when his phone pinged with another notification from you, your said message causing him to grin from ear to ear. 
‘shut up.’ and another, ‘dont speak 2 me.’ 
“Are you mad at me?” He cooed, tossing his phone to the side, before he eventually joined your side, nuzzling around to get comfortable now that your back pressed firmly over his chest. “C’mon, speak to me, why are you giving me the silent treatment?” 
You remained silent, choking back a giggle when his face found the crook of your neck, planting soft kisses to your skin as his breath fanned over the flesh, the sensation like feather to your skin. 
“Is this about Topper?” He questioned between kisses, voice slightly muffled. Rafe then wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing you closer to his chest, even more close than earlier, if that was even possible. “I’m sorry, you know I get busy sometimes, I don't mean to purposely ignore you.” 
“Yeah, yeah.” Rafe perked up when you spoke, smiling as he took in the side of your face, your frown instantly replaced with a sheepish smile. “Might as well jus’ break up with me, since you’re so busy n’ all that stuff.” 
“All that stuff?” He repeated, fully straightening in his position. He poked your cheek with his finger, giggling when you smacked his hand, feigning oblivion to your amused expression despite how annoyed you seemed. “Didn’t you just compare us to cats? You do that with everyone you break up with?” 
“Hmm,” you hummed, giving in when Rafe tugged your chin, forcing your face in his direction. You pretended to think, grabbing his hand and kissing it, the gesture slightly catching Rafe off guard, well aware of how stubborn you are when you're upset. “Only with the handsome ones.” 
“You think I’m handsome?” He muttered, voice dropping barely above a whisper. He leaned down, brushing his thumb over your lip. He pecked your forehead, the press of his plush lips tickling your flesh. “I’m sorry, I love you.” 
“It’s okay,” you reassured, levelling yourself with Rafe as you straightened up, now face to face with him. “I jus’ missed you s’all, you know I require a lot of attention.” 
“And I’m willing to give it to you,” he mumbled, “Missed,” a kiss, “my pretty,” and another, “girl.” You giggled, throwing your head back in an attempt to playfully dodge his kisses, merely for Rafe to chase after your lips, now fully pinning you to the bed. “Let’s watch more cat videos,” he said, grabbing your phone from the night stand. “Stop sulking with me, yeah?” 
You rolled your eyes, maintaining a blank expression as Rafe set your phone in front of your face, waiting for face ID to work. “You’re so annoying.” 
“And you love me,” he replied, face twisting into a frown as his fingers hovered over the screen. “Where the fuck is tiktok?” 
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macfrog · 2 months ago
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homesick
a cowboy like me one shot
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oh, i missed these two. here's a little check-in on my favorite morally irresponsible outlaws.
pairing: dbf!joel miller x fem!reader
summary: you spend the weekend back home in austin with joel.
warnings: age gap (early 20s/late 40s), twinge of angst, piv sex in the shower (beware of slippage). you know the drill with these two. part of the cowboy like me universe, but can probably be enjoyed as a standalone.
word count: 6.3k
series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🧡
“This is Joel Miller. I can’t come to the phone right now, so leave a message and I’ll get back to ya.”
You wait for the beep, pacing along a wall of steel cylinders. The laundromat is stifling, the machines’ drumming deafening. It’s eighty-something degrees out, and it’s only six o’clock.
“Pick up, Miller. Hello? Hello? I know you’re there. Can’t come to the –” you clear your throat, strum the twang in your vocal cords, “– Can’t come to the ph-owww-ne right n–”
The line clicks as he picks the handset up.
“Did you call just to make fun of me, kid?”
You halt, spinning on your heel. “So you were screening me?”
He scoffs. “Didn’t notice the time. I’ve been out back with Tommy.”
“Oh,” you mellow, tongue curling around your ice cream, “We don’t have to call right now, you know. I’m just doing laundry.”
“It is six there, right?”
“Yeah, but don’t let me keep you. Go hang with your brother.”
Joel sighs as he sinks back into his couch. “Keep me. He knows you were calling tonight. He’s probably outside fraternizing with the neighbor, anyway. Won’t even notice I’m gone. Laundry, huh?”
“Mhm.” You suckle on the lip of the waffle cone. “It’s a beautiful night, and I’m stuck being force-fed Mötley Crüe and watching a steel drum shred my panties.”
“Sounds like a good time to me.”
“Enough, cowboy.”
“I like Mötley Crüe,” he chuckles. “They got some hits under their belt.”
“Name five.”
“Five,” he says. “You’re asking a lot there, darlin’.”
“Of Mötley Crüe or of your memory, old man?”
Joel hums. “Should’ve seen that one coming, baby.”
You boost yourself up onto one of the dryers, swinging your legs. If there were anyone else in the laundromat, you’d care to hide your fluster – but you’re here on your own, and the man just melts you. All girlish and giggly, you feel his words swirl around your stomach like sweet honey.
“Tell me about your day,” you say, covering the flutter in your voice with another mouthful of ice cream.
“Well,” Joel says, “weather’s fine, work’s fine. Almost done with that renovation for your favorite clients.”
You gasp. “The old couple with the cats?”
He grumbles. “That’s them. They still hate me, by the way.”
“The couple, or the cats?”
“…Jury’s out.”
You snicker.
“Then, uh, I called Sarah, had some dinner, and now here I am talkin’ to you.”
“Hm. I’m your favorite part, right? I’m your favorite part of today?”
Joel pauses, breathing for a moment. Slow, quiet, but sure, he says: “You’re my favorite part of every day.”
The smile on your face cracks, crumbles into something more pained. Your heart sinks.
It’s been three months since you were last home. Technically, it’s been seven weeks since you were in Austin – but Joel was out of town for the weekend, and you spent four days cleaning your dad’s gutter and watching westerns.
It’s been three months since you were last in Joel’s arms. In his house, in his clothes, in his bed. Three months since you heard his voice not through the crackle of a thousand miles apart; since you smelled him on your skin, not on the flannels you’ve stolen from him.
Three long, tough months.
And it means nothing, anyway. All this missing each other. So you tell yourselves, and so you tell everyone else. You’re not together, you’re not committed. You’ve been seeing other people, so has Joel – even if he’s only been on two dates in the nine months since you moved away.
Spending a casual weekend together here and there is enough to get you by. It’s easier this way, right? It’s cleaner. There are no crossed wires, no strings at risk of becoming tangled.
Only – your entire relationship is woven in tangled strings. Messy, knotted, twisted around your fingers and threaded through your ribs. A summer’s worth of weaving yourselves closer and closer together, only to be pulled apart come fall.
It didn’t take long to prove that when a knot is pulled, it only binds tighter.
It only binds sorer.
“Anyway,” Joel says, “your turn. How was your day?”
You gulp, slipping down from the dryer to check on your wash. If you speak, you’ll break, and if you break, you’ll sob.
“Baby? You still there?”
“Yep,” you croak. You wipe your eyes with your sleeve and shake your head. “I – uh…Yeah, my day was fine.”
The line quietens.
“You sure? Everything okay at work?”
Your reflection blinks back at you in the window of the machine, warped and molten. She opens her mouth and replies, “All good.”
He can read you even three states apart. “Let me call you back. Hold on.”
The call disconnects before you can protest. Over your shoulder, another regular shuffles into the laundromat.
She smiles, skin supple and sun-spotted, looking but not looking you in the eye. She slides her full basket over one of the machines on the other side of the room, and tosses her clothes into the drum.
When your phone vibrates again, you pass by her and out onto the street.
Joel’s pixelated living room stretches across your screen.
“Joel,” you sniff, “Joel, it’s –”
“Can you see me?”
“No, you gotta flip your –”
“…never know why the damn thing don’t –”
“The button with the arrows. The camera button, Joel, it’s –”
His coffee table flips, and in place – straight, dark brows drawn tight in a frown. Crows feet, scar across the bridge of his nose. Peppered hair a little longer than the last time you called, beard a little thicker.
The only person in the world who can weaken your knees and splinter your chest, in one fleeting glance.
“Hi, baby girl,” he whispers, expression softening. “Look at you.”
You slump against the warm wall, sliding down. One sight of him, and your knees give. “Oh, my God, I miss you today.”
Joel laughs. His head cocks, smirk tugging at his lips. “I miss you every day.”
“Yeah, that’s – that’s what I…” you sigh, “…That’s what I meant. It’s just – some days, you feel a little further away.”
“Today one of those days?”
You nod. A car soars by, whipping hot air from the road which pours over your bare legs. “It’s just…been a day. That’s all.”
“We can talk about it, if you want. You’re hell of a lot smarter than me, darlin’, but I’ve had my share of bad days before. Never does any harm to get it off your chest.”
He smiles. It breaks your heart.
He works ten hours straight, some days. Out at the crack of dawn, home with only enough time and energy to nuke something in the microwave. Somewhere amongst that, he fits in beers with Tommy and ridiculous DIY jobs your dad elicits his help for.
And still – he sets aside an hour or two every few nights, specially for you. He collapses into his couch, decaf in his mug, and puts the world to rights with you on the other end of the phone.
The meaningless work dramas, the paper building up on your desk. The commute, for the love of God – the traffic jams you swear will one day be the death of you. The last thing Joel needs is to listen to your problems on end, and you tell him so.
“Bullshit,” he replies. He shakes his head, takes a sip of his beer. “I asked, didn’t I? Talk to me. Tell me what’s goin’ on.”
You groan. “I just…I wish I could turn my brain off. Just for a little while. No meetings, no call times. No helping my dad trim the trees in the yard when I’m home for the weekend.”
He laughs. “He rope you into that one too, huh?”
“Sure did.” You tense your fist, wince at the memory of splinters you were still plucking from your palm even weeks later.
“I got nothing to complain about,” you tell Joel, “I know that. This job is…it’s right where I want to be. Just – sometimes, I miss being back in Austin, following you around Costco and hiding from my dad. It’s like life was simpler then.”
Joel chokes. “I guarantee you,” he coughs, thumping his chest clear of beer, “life was not simpler. Not by a long shot. Goddamn.”
He swings to his feet and wanders across the room to his kitchen. Past his armchair, past the guitar mounted on the wall. Past the dining chair he always hangs his coat from. You know the anatomy of his home better than your own, it feels like.
You sure as hell miss it more than your own.
“Lemme see…” Joel squints over his phone. He leans over his kitchen counter. “What’s next weekend look like for you?”
You shrug. “My weekend off.”
“Nothing planned?”
“Nothing yet.”
He nods. “I’m meeting a supplier on Saturday afternoon, but if you can stand to be without me for a few hours, then…”
His eyebrows lift.
So do yours. “Then…?”
“I can look at flights,” Joel says, “get you booked tonight. Pick you up Friday, drop you off Sunday. Spend the whole weekend with your brain shut off, if that’s what you’re lookin’ for.”
A wave of warmth floods through your chest. Relief, maybe – or simple adoration for the man on the other end of the phone. Most likely, the way it always seems with Joel, it’s both at once.
He loves you. Enough to break every rule in the book. To go behind his best friend’s back for an entire summer. He loves you enough to let you go, watch you follow your wildest dreams, and then be the safety net at the end of each long day, each hard night.
He loves you enough to scratch everything off his calendar for a few days, just to make sure you’re okay. Just to hold you in his arms, heart beating a rhythm he knows better than his own. Just to sing you to sleep, and wake you up with burnt toast and runny eggs.
You pull the collar of your shirt over your nose and weep into the material. “I ever tell you how much I love you?”
He smiles. “Not half as much as I love you.”
“Gross.”
“I know.”
The laundromat door flings open.
Face now flushed and hair scraped back, the woman clocks you immediately and throws a pointed finger in your direction. “Are you coming to get your panties or what, little girl?”
She clicks her teeth and disappears again. The blind hanging over the door rattles with the force it slams closed.
“Guess that’s my cue,” you whisper, heaving to your feet. “Better go get my panties.”
“Why?” Joel’s making his way back outside. “Ain’t like you’re gonna need ‘em.”
You scoff. “Talk later, cowboy.”
Austin welcomes you back with a delayed flight, a screaming seatmate, and a raging headache.
The airport is busy. Loud busy. All chittering couples, hordes of kids with nauseatingly bright backpacks. You drag your suitcase through to arrivals, careful not to trip over the wheels of the stroller ahead.
When you spot his tall, dark figure weaving between bodies, the gate hushes. You move towards him by instinct, parting the crowd as you go. The magnet in your chest senses its partner drawing nearer, and nearer, and nearer.
And nearer, until he’s reaching out. He’s close enough that his hands land on your waist, and it’s the first time in three months that you’ve felt this weight – his weight, the way only he feels – all around you.
Joel pulls you in to his chest. He locks you in, resting his chin on your head.
“Hi, honey.”
You inhale his scent, breathe in the comfort of him. “Hi,” you exhale.
Tears prickle at your eyes. It feels stupid. He looks down at you, thumb swiping across your cheek, and a salty droplet spills.
“How was the flight?” he asks.
“Good.”
“You okay?”
“Perfect, now.”
“You look perfect,” Joel grins, “Look like the sun.”
And you could swat him away, could shrug him and his flirting off. The sun sure as hell doesn’t look stewed in three-hour plane, too tired to move and too clingy to unhook from her dad’s best friend’s arm.
But that’s not what he’s saying, is it?
You do look different. You feel different. You feel brand new. Golden – just like the sun.
These days, it feels like there are two versions of you. One, you’ve spent the better part of a year polishing off – electric and vibrant, eyes wide and head spinning, moving through her day like gliding on air and then collapsing in a heap come nightfall. Chaos with a clipboard and call sheet.
And the other – slower. Steadier. Surer on her feet, simpler in her ways. Dust under her heels and a Texan shine in her smile. Honeylike; moving where her body tells her to go, drinking up the world as she pleases.
There’s a moment, stood under the fluorescent lights of the terminal, where you feel the first give way to the second. Safe now, in Joel’s arms, to slip back into her old, worn boots and shutter her mind – even just for this weekend.
“Come on,” he whispers, wrapping his hand around yours. “Let’s get you home.”
And there never seemed like a better idea than that.
He keeps your things in his shower caddy.
Bottom basket, strictly yours. Shampoo and conditioner and bodywash and a loofah, all exactly where you left them last time you were here. He says it as he cranks the handle, holds his palm under the flow until it’s just right.
“The strawberry stuff…?” Joel nods to the bottle, face screwed.
You gasp. “You don’t like it?”
He shakes his head. “Like it on you. I smelled like a fruit farm for a week, baby.”
“Makes a change from wood trimmings,” you mutter, peeling the shirt from your chest.
Joel glares over his shoulder. “You wanna say that a little louder?”
“No, sir,” you whisper, and step into the cubicle.
The water pours over your head and down your spine, breathing life back into your body. You close your eyes and let it wash down your face. LA feels so distant, so lost to the steam and serenity in Joel’s ensuite.
He lingers in the doorway, watching as you turn under the shower. He smiles when you hold your hand out and flick your fingers.
“Soap, please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, dropping it in your palm.
You slip the velvety bar over your skin. The soap lathers in thick, milky bubbles, cascading over your chest down to your hips. Your hands lift from your navel to cup your breasts, pinching your nipples between soft fingers.
Joel’s jaw ticks. He crosses his arms, shoulders tensing. “Easy, darlin’. Dancing with the devil here.”
It burns low in your stomach.
You pass him the bar back. “Maybe I want to dance,” you murmur. “Maybe he does, too.”
His eyebrows lift. “Maybe he does,” he agrees. He trades the soap for shampoo, tapping the bottle against your hip.
The heat grows under your skin. Having him watch, his close eye on you as you wash the suds from your hair and slick bodywash over your skin.
His eyes drift from your chest to your waist, looping up to your soaked eyelashes and dripping bottom lip, diving again between your legs.
Hungry. Starved, even.
Three months of secret photos and sexy phone calls to get you both by. Three months of imagining you, fist around his cock in the dead of night, coating his stomach just with the thought of you.
And right here, right now, in his shower: the real thing. The forbidden fruit. Body hot and skin soaked, just as desperate as he is. Just as needy.
You step forward, reaching for his shoulders. Arms around his neck, dampening the collar of his shirt, you pull him closer.
“Dance with me,” you whisper against his lips, stealing a kiss.
Joel’s gaze darkens. He takes your jaw and tilts your head back. Voice like thunder rolling over you, he warns, “I told someone we’d be somewhere.”
You smile, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “We’re running late. Something’s come up.”
His arms lift and you pull the cotton over his head, tossing it to the floor. He’s the same solid sculpture as always. Strong and wide, torso scattered with hair which thickens across the span of his chest.
He rids himself of his boots and jeans, kicks his underwear off, and joins you under the water. So big that he corners you, so tall that he has to adjust the showerhead.
Pressed up against your body; warm, manly scent raining over you. He’s hard, tucked right by your hip, rutting gently as he steals kiss after kiss.
He’s addicted to it. To you. Has been ever since that first night, the first taste of poison. Has been, probably, since that first glimpse of you last summer. For all the wrong reasons and in all the wrong ways, for better or worse –
You break him open. You make him weak.
Joel groans when you wrap your hand around him. That familiar weight in your grasp. He glances down to watch your slow strokes, fighting back a filthy smile.
“Missed you,” he breathes, voice lost to the patter of the shower. He slips a hand between your legs. “Ain’t gonna last long, are you?”
“Fuck,” you hiss, grinding into his palm. You toy with his bottom lip, nipping at the edges of his smirk. “We got all weekend. Just – just fuck me.”
He hikes your leg over his hip and lines up. A blooming ache when he notches at your hole, tip teasing your entrance.
Your back curls. You wrap your arms around Joel’s neck, whimpering into his chest.
“’s alright,” he kisses your neck, “Just take it nice ‘n slow. Get her used to me again, baby.”
He pushes inside, two heavy hands on your waist. Always in control, always easing you in. He holds you delicately, moving inch by inch, watching the twist of your brow and bite of your lip before sinking in further.
He reaches up and tilts the downpour to the wall. Lifts your fragile body, split in two on his cock, and pushes you against the tile.
Your cunt aches as he slides out. She clamps around his tip. It hurts – but you don’t want to let him go.
“Stay,” you cry, nails digging into his shoulders. “Stay inside me.”
He hums and presses his lips to the hinge of your jaw. “I ain’t goin’ anywhere, baby. I’m right here.”
His hips move forward. Your cunt opens for him the deeper he moves. Like welcoming him home, remembering the way it feels to be this full. The stretch of taking him, the air stolen from your lungs. The love you can never find the beginning nor the end of.
And then he’s moving quicker, sharper, one arm wrapped around your neck to cradle your head. Hips snapping against yours, slowing to a roll when you yelp.
Whispering sweet nothings in your ear – how good you’re taking him, how tight she is. How much he’s missed this, missed her, missed you. Never wants to let you go, never wants to be anywhere except right here, feeding you his cock and watching you come undone.
“Made for me, huh?” Joel grunts. He presses his forehead to yours and slips the words across your tongue. “All mine.”
“All yours,” you echo, weeping under him. The flame catches and curls around your stomach.
The missing piece to the last nine months. The dead-end dates, the hazy hookups. Awkward good mornings, and goodbyes that never seem to come quick enough. Sneaking off home to shower the scent of it away, to replace it with something sweeter.
Him.
Because none of them are him.
They don’t make you laugh and they don’t make you come. They don’t see you, don’t hang on your every word. They don’t – they can’t break your world apart and paint it something new. They don’t know your every move, don’t understand the most fleeting glances.
You could spend forever circling every bar and every diner; what do you do for work and where did you grow up. You could chase the tail of every flannel shirt, search all over for that twinkle in his eye.
They’re not him. They’ll never be him.
Joel coaxes you where he needs you. He fucks you until you’re quivering in his arms, head rolling across his shoulder. His thrusts begin to stall, breathing turns to panting, teeth sink into any part of your skin he can find.
He moans into your neck. The sound nudges you towards the edge.
“I’m close, baby,” he grits, “’m so close.”
You look up at him through tear-soaked eyes.
Three months. Since the last time he touched you, kissed you, fucked you like this. Since the last time he lost control, came deeper inside than anyone before, or anyone since.
Three months since the last time you held him in your hands, lined your lips with his, and begged him to stay in you.
Joel laughs. “Dangerous little game, darlin’.”
But he’s fading. He’s falling under, same as you are.
You want it. You need it. Need to be full of him – that ache when you walk, the warmth leaking down the inseam of your thighs. The feeling of being his, all his; ruined and wrecked in the sweetest way.
“Stay – inside,” you plead. “I want you to – want it so bad.”
“Keep begging, honey. Sound so cute when you’re desperate.”
“Please, Joel,” it’s getting harder to hold, “Just wanna feel you in me –”
“I know, I know,” he shushes.
You tense in his arms, gasping. “I’m gonna – come –”
“So,” Joel smirks, “come.”
And it snaps.
You scream into his chest. Your climax pulls you under, drowns you in a heavy wave of pleasure. Your hips lock, legs clamp around his waist as you cry out.
He plants a hand flat against the tile to steady himself. He holds you still as his own orgasm rolls through, pumping your swollen cunt with each rush of warm release.
You collapse against his body, bubbling and mumbling something incoherent.
He hears you, though.
He shuts the water off and rocks you back and forth. His cock slips from between your legs. “Shh, shh,” lips to your temple, “’s my girl. Such a good girl, baby. So good for me.”
You hum in response and pull yourself upright. You trace the shape of his beard, soaking wet and soft under your touch, following the droplets of water to his chin.
He kisses the tips of your fingers. “I love you,” he says. Chants it like a prayer, leaning closer and closer until his lips are against yours. “Love you more ‘n anything.”
You giggle. “You’re tickling me.”
Joel nuzzles his nose into your neck. He wriggles his fingers under your ribcage. “Can’t get enough of you,” his tongue swipes across your hot skin, “Swear to God, baby, you’re killing me.”
“Joel,” your head falls back with a clap of laughter, “Joel, stop – oh, my God, you have to stop, please – Joel!”
He hoists you onto his hips and turns. Hands still exploring, still pinching and squeezing everywhere they shouldn’t be, he carries you out to his bedroom and drops you onto the mattress.
“Here,” he chuckles, wrapping a towel around your body. He knots it over your chest and rubs your waist, before flopping down onto the bed with a sigh.
You roll over on top of him and fix the dripping hair from his forehead. “Missed you,” you whisper, trailing kisses along his collarbone.
He smiles. His heart flutters beneath yours. “Missed you more,” he says.
His semen drips between your legs. He’s softening against the inside of your thigh. The bed is soaked, sheets that’ll need changed before you sleep tonight. You’re tired, spent, pussy throbbing from the loss of him – and it’s all so perfect.
Being here, with him. Seeing him, feeling him on your body. In your body, for crying out loud. Holding him, kissing him, loving him up close.
It’s fucking perfect.
“What are we running late for?” you ask.
Joel’s eyes flutter open. He cocks his head, frowning.
“You said we had somewhere to be,” you clarify.
“Oh,” he winces, “Uh, your dad’s. He’s havin’ us for dinner.”
“Oh,” you echo. “When is he expecting –?”
He glances at the clock. “Half hour ago.”
“Nice.” You push yourself up, slipping from his grasp. “Well, this is about to be awkward.”
Joel folds his arms behind his head. He tracks your flurried movements: lugging your bag across the floor, tearing through it for an outfit that doesn’t scream, Your best friend just fucked me senseless in his shower.
When you straighten and lift your arms, eyes wide, his lips turn.
“You said you wanted to dance, baby. I was just following orders.”
The sun filters through the leaves, breathing back and forth with the sway of the trees.
You’re horizontal in a deckchair, feet in Joel’s lap, blanket around your shoulders. Full on burgers and baseball talk; if it weren’t for your dad’s riveting conversation about his new lawnmower, you’d probably be asleep.
“Ride-on,” he tells Joel, nodding. It makes gardening a real thrill, apparently. He flicks a hand over the span of the yard. “Whole thing done in less than twenty minutes. Hank says he’s half a mind to make an investment himself.”
Joel purses his lips. He strokes your ankles soothingly. “Sounds like a good buy,” he placates.
Your dad drums on his armrests, admiring his yard some more. He mumbles something about raking the leaves, painting the fence, then – with a vigor that makes you jump, he taps your arm.
“How’s work, kiddo? Still rockin’ ‘n rollin’?”
Your eyes flash across Joel’s. The hell does that even mean?
The corner of his lip twitches. Your guess is as good as mine.
“Yep,” you lie. “Living the dream, Dad.”
Joel says nothing. He hasn’t told your dad why you came home – hasn’t even mentioned the tears outside the laundromat. Your secret is safe with him, you know that. Some puzzles are easier to figure out, the less eyes that are on them.
He hasn’t even brought it up with you yet. Granted, you’ve been home all of four hours, and a solid quarter of that time has been spent naked with him back at his place – but he’s waiting for you to make the first move.
This weekend doesn’t have to be about work. Hell, it doesn’t even have to be about you feeling homesick. It can be as simple as you hadn’t seen your dad for a few weeks, or you heard the news about the damn lawnmower and just had to pay a visit.
It’s what you’ve always loved so much about Joel. It’s what reeled you into him in the first place.
He just lets you be. No questions, no pressure, no worries. He knows you’ll figure it out – you always do. And if he knows that, then it makes you believe in it, too.
Dad sinks back into his chair with a sigh. “What’s on the cards this weekend, then?”
“Joel’s down San Antonio way tomorrow,” you yawn, “Some supplier meeting.”
“You don’t feel like a road trip?”
Your eyes roll to Joel. He’s already staring back. You cock an eyebrow, smirking into your glass.
His shoulder rolls in a shrug. “Your call, chief,” he says, tipping his drink to you.
The minute he mentioned the meeting last week, you knew you’d be tagging along. Two hours each way and an hour in between is too big a chunk of your weekend together to miss out on.
That – and you’ve missed Joel’s front-seat singing.
It doesn’t matter what you planned on doing – rolling around his bed for three days straight, driving to San Antonio and back. Hell, trimming your dad’s trees and cleaning his guttering.
As long as you’re doing it with Joel, it’s enough.
It’s what you came home for in the first place.
The drive passes quickly enough. Joel’s truck doesn’t have Bluetooth, and he only keeps three discs in his glove compartment: Don McLean’s American Pie, a Guitar Classics compilation album, and a blank disc with SARAH MILLER, SECOND GRADE scrawled in Sharpie.
He whips it from your hands when you fish it out of the compartment.
“Listen, listen to this,” Joel says, slotting it in the tray. “Found it a couple weeks ago. I listen to it when I’m drivin’ to work.”
Her squeaky, seven-year-old voice punches through the cabin. “Welcome to my presentation –” she roars into the mic, pausing when a voice picks up in the background. “Huh?” Sarah asks.
“You’re holdin’ the mic too close,” Joel murmurs, almost fourteen years younger. “Farther. Farther,” he says, and then – “Alright. Go.”
“Welcome to my presentation on Amelia E-Earhart,” she resumes, clearing her throat. “She…Oh, Daddy, we gotta restart. I forgot to tell ‘em my name.”
Joel covers his laughter with his fist, reciting it line for line. “Tommy said he’s gonna make her a copy for her birthday,” he says.
“Oh, my God. She’s gonna hate you guys, you know that, right?”
He nods. “I’m countin’ on it.”
Sarah rounds off a few facts about twentieth century air travel before Joel swaps her for the radio. He hands you the disc and you place it safely back in the glove compartment.
You curl up in the passenger seat, swinging your legs over to his lap.
He rubs your calves and glances over, smiling. “You okay over there?”
“I’m more tired than I was when I landed,” you reply, and he laughs.
You haven’t had much of a chance to catch up on sleep. The second you made it home last night, your dress was on the floor at the foot of Joel’s bed. He woke you this morning with his lips on your thighs, your underwear around your ankles.
He was midway through cooking breakfast when you floated into the kitchen to return the favor. The toast burned, the eggs shriveled to a crisp, and your knees bruised.
Fuck it, right? You’ll miss him when you’re gone. When all that’s left are the memories, and the sound of his climax through speakerphone.
An afternoon spent on the road is good recovery time, then, for all that’s waiting for you when you make it back to Joel’s tonight.
A few off-key covers of fifty number ones from the last fifty years later, you’re pulling into a barren lot headered by a beige trailer. The supplier springs out – a beefy guy with a full head of thick, white hair. He crosses the lot as Joel parks up.
Joel rounds the truck, pausing when he spots you lingering at the tailgate. He curves a hand around your neck, thumb circling over your pulse point. “You comin’?”
You twist the hem of your tee around your finger. “Maybe I’ll stay out here and wait. It’s a nice night, and you ain’t gonna be too long, right?”
He shakes his head. “Be as fast as I can. If it gets dark out, you come inside, alright?”
You shuffle into his embrace. “Promise.”
He kisses your head and steps back. “Here,” he slips the flannel from his shoulders, “If you’re sittin’ out. Got my phone if you need me.”
He disappears inside and the door falls closed. A cluster of moths twirls around the light on the trailer’s side. You hop up on the bed of the truck, crossing Joel’s shirt around your frame, and nestle against the back window.
The sun pulls down towards the horizon, sending dregs of daytime in ripples to the stars. She’s still alight just beyond the trees, still burning a hole in the sky. She winks at you from a distance.
The world looks different from Austin. Bigger, like the view from your bedroom window. There’s always more, just beyond the horizon. There has to be more, right? More than four pink walls and a chest of drawers. More than Sal’s store, more than Rita’s cross stitch.
You chased that more halfway across the country – only to realize it was in your hands the whole time.
Him and his lazy smile, sarcasm as thick as the accent he speaks it in. Rolled up sleeves and messy collar; a half-empty cup of coffee and a cracked watch face.
He’s all the more you could ever need.
You’re still perched on the tailgate, staring skyward, when Joel finishes up.
He swaggers across the lot, tan arms speckled with dry dirt, boots kicking up dust. He tosses a fistful of papers in the front seat, then drifts around to settle between your knees.
“Hi,” he whispers, tucking his nose under your jaw.
“Hi.”
He plants his hands either side of your hips and kisses your neck. “Home time, sweet girl.”
You glance over your shoulder.
This time tomorrow, you’ll be on your flight back. Row twelve, seat C. Joel’s flannel over your shoulders, slowly forgetting the scent of him, mile by mile. You’ll sleep with it tucked under your chin until it no longer smells like oak or pine, or the mint bodywash he uses.
You’ll miss it the way you’ll miss him. Holding onto every last moment. Deep morning voice, warm, safe embrace. The rumble of a laugh in his chest, the glimmer or mischief in his eye. The touches he saves just for you; the words he whispers when the lights turn out.
You wrap your arms around his neck.
“Can we go watch the sunset somewhere?”
Joel glances off behind you. His eyes flit back to yours, sunlight catching their ochre and setting him ablaze.
“Get in,” he pulls you down, “I know just the spot.”
It’s almost dusk by the time you reach the outlook.
A twisty dirt road which opens up between some trees, halfway out of the city. Joel reverses the truck and parks in the clearing. The two of you slide onto the tailgate, sharing a bag of fruit gums he had stored alongside Sarah’s CD.
The stars turn one by one, dotted across deep indigo. The last of the day’s blush still lingers where the city meets the sky. Tucked between trees and twilight, it feels as though you’re the only two in the world.
Joel holds the bag out, and you pinch a couple pieces of candy. “How you feelin’?” he asks, looking out to the skyline.
“Okay, I guess,” you mutter. “This has been a nice reset. I wish I could take you back with me.”
Joel laughs. “I don’t.”
“No?” you suckle on the sweet fruit, “I think you’d fit right in.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” He shakes his head, pinching your chin. “Naw, LA is yours. It’s something you did, all by yourself. I am so proud of you, honey, do you know that? I mean, I miss you like hell, I really do…”
He glances back down, rustling the bag in his hands. He’s hiding, you know him well enough. Staring at his lap instead of in your eye. When he looks back up, there’s a glimmer along his waterline.
“…But the way I feel any time you call, and I know…I know you’re out there doin’ something you actually give a shit about. You ain’t stuck here, too big for your own bedroom, too comfortable for anywhere else.”
He slips a hand over your knee and squeezes.
It’s infuriating, how right he always is. You’re working your fucking ass off, and for good reason. Austin was always too small for the world inside your head. Missing each other is a price you’re both willing to pay, for the luxury of not missing out on every dream you’ve ever had.
But –
“What if it keeps getting harder?” you sniff, “What if I need you more?”
Joel clicks his teeth. “’s always gonna get harder. That’s life, darlin’. But the hard times won’t last forever. And when it feels real tough, and you feel like you can’t do it no more, you call me. You jump on the next flight. You switch your brain off, and you let me take care of you for a little while.”
You shake your head. Tears break loose, rolling down your cheeks. “I can’t ask that of you, Joel, you got your own shit to worry about –”
“Baby.” He sighs. “I’m old. I’ve done everything I think I oughta do. You know, the days I know you’re gonna be callin’ at eight o’clock – it’s all I can think about. I’m at work checking my watch every five minutes.”
You giggle, turning into the crook of his arm.
“It’s true,” Joel snickers, “I’m like a goddamn teenager. That’s what you do to me.”
He catches you and pulls you against his chest.
“What I’m saying is – there ain’t nothing that matters more to me in the world than you. My own shit to worry about? You mean – you?”
“Shut up,” you scoff, spitting tears into his shirt.
“You call,” he says, resolute, “and I’ll be there.”
“I’m calling,” you whisper. “I’m always calling.”
“Then I’m always here.”
You sit back, bracing yourself on Joel’s thighs. He wipes the wet from your cheeks and fixes his shirt over your shoulders.
“You know, one day,” you tell him, “you’re gonna get a call, and it’s not just gonna be for the weekend.”
He smiles. “I know.”
“One day, I’m gonna come home forever, Joel.”
“I know,” he repeats. “And I’ll be on the front porch waitin’.”
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sh1-n0bu · 4 months ago
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yall really thought i was done with monster reader? nuh uh. VAMPIRE READER WITH A SHY MONSTERFUCKER CHARACTER
a shy monsterfucker who didn’t knew they were a monsterfucker yet, who didn’t knew of the kinks they had yet to awaken in themselves, who only thought of themselves as vanilla meeting you for the first time and thinking that you feel not so human. don’t get them wrong, there was nothing about you that was out of place. you looked human but you just… didn’t really felt like it at times
maybe it was the way you sometimes yawned and your jaws opened just a little bit too wide. maybe it was the way you were able to see so damn well in the darkness, eyes sometimes nearly glowing until they shake their head and your eyes looked just fine. maybe it was the way they slowly noticed that you barely ate anything whenever you hung out together, merely ordering a black coffee with extra shots or asking for the black coffee to be made just a little bit thicker. maybe it was the way your smile stretched just a little bit too big to be normal, sharp fangs and canines glistening
either way, you didn’t feel normal. you didn’t feel entirely… human, to them. but they find themselves shrugging it off, still thinking of you as their friend and a close companion
it all gets thrown out when you go radio silent one day. no phone calls, no notifications, no messages or hell, letters. just silence. worried sick, they make their way over to your house, using the spare key you gifted them and stepping inside to a dark and messy home. blinds closed shut, home miserable and, were those claw tears in the back of the couch?
feeling their guts churning with the desire to run away, they call out your name under their breath, akin to a whisper. when receiving no response, they call out again, feeling like they want to run away as they think of their choices. only a one step deeper into your messy home and their vision was swimming, being slammed down onto the floor as something hisses above them before it trails off into a low laugh. dazed, they open their eyes to find… you. except, it wasn’t really you. glowing slitted eyes, wide smile and a sense of danger
“fresh prey, walking straight into my grasp. must be my lucky day…” even your voice sounded weird, as if two people were talking at the same time. one, your normal voice and the other more high pitched. like how some creatures’ voice becomes higher pitched to mimic others and lure prey into their grasp. like… a monster
they tried to flee, to talk sense into you, fear and desperation tugging at their heart as their words trail off into a terrified whimper when your jaws open just a little bit wider, slits appearing at the sides as a long forked tongue runs over knife like sharp fangs before closing again. this felt like a nightmare, something they never really thought of happening before. they could only look away, tears stinging in their eyes when your clawed, stretched fingers tear off a piece of their shirt’s neck area open, thinking that you will tear them apart like how you just did with their clothes just now
a shy monsterfucker who lets out a yelp when they feel a wet feeling on their neck, something long and wet slithering over the skin as if softening the flesh there. despite the fear churning their stomach, they couldn’t help but whine out as their body suddenly started to feel hot. so needy and pathetically hard and wet in their pants like a hormonal teenager as they stare at your long tongue. even as you laugh at the flushed look on their face and make some demeaning remark, all they could do was stare
and to their own horror, they let out a fucking moan when your sharp fangs bite down on the same place you just licked at, head thrown back onto the floor as a loud plea for more falls from their lips. pleas of biting their neck more, tear their flesh apart with your fangs, clench down those strong jaws, absolutely ruin them to your own pleasure. they didn’t get it, wasn’t it supposed to hurt? at least, from all the movies and books, but no, it felt good. even as their blood gets drawn out and your canines dig into their flesh, tearing the skin apart, all they could do was moan out loud like a desperate harlot. mind muddled and body twisting to weakly hump at your knee between their legs, even as your jaws let go of their neck and licked the wounds close, they could only whimper at the loss of the feeling
the next morning, they woke up in your bed, surrounded in comfort and soft beddings. was… last night a dream? were they imagining it all? a wet dream?
their confused brain stops whirring question and theory after one another as the door to the room opens, you stepping in with a cup of steaming hot tea in your hand and a plate of some fruits cut into small pieces in the other. looking just fine and normal, no fangs, no blood, no strange slits at the corner of your mouths, no long slithering tongue, just a normal [name], albeit a tiny bit worried. so it was all just a wet dream…
since that day and that strangely realistic dream that the shy monsterfucker thought they had, it became a bit hard for them to look you in the eye and hold a normal conversation. they were fucking embarrassed, hell ashamed even, by their own thoughts that conjured up such image of you in their own sleep. they always knew you gave off an eerie, not-so-very-human vibes but even then, imagining you as a goddamn vampire who saw them as your prey was... a little bit too much. they didn't even found vampires attractive, but if you were to somehow magically turn into one, maybe they wouldn't mind it much. of being your bloodbag, your sweet prey, your willing sacrificial lamb that you toy and flaunt like a trophy pet
shy monsterfucker who gets too sexually frustrated easily ever since that one specific dream, always staring into your mouth whenever you're looking away and talking or laughing, hoping to see a glimpse of an unusually sharp fangs. who think they do indeed see something and immediately lets out a quiet whimper, thighs squishing and rubbing together as that one dream plays out in their mind again. who excuses themselves from the hang out earlier so they can go home under the guise of a "not feeling very good today", when in reality they would be touching themselves again that night, humping their pillows with pathetic broken moans of your name. sometimes, when feeling bolder, they would say the same pleads they did in their dream, asking you to bite them as they throw their heads back, neck free and pristine. if they shut their eyes tight and imagined hard enough, they could remember the phantom feeling of your slithered tongue running over their skin. humping at their pillow harder with a broken sob of your name as their body shakes, soiling their pillow case with their own cum again for the nth time in the last 2 days, changing it once more
they didn't get it, they usually had just a normal amount of sex drive, who barely got horny unless they were intoxicated or something. this newfound sexual frustration was weird to them. new and scary with the ways it left their body all hot and bothered just by looking at you. staring, waiting and gulping down saliva to wet their throat as their mind goes to the gutter. imagining your clawed hands trailing over their bare skin, maybe leave a few small cuts if you feel like it, hold over their hips a bit too tightly to leave a bruise, bite at their porcelain skin. would you make them your personal bloodbag if they acted good and begged hard enough?
shy monsterfucker who gets caught, mind too fuzzy with filthy thoughts as they moaned out your name into their pillows as you invite yourself inside their home with a bag of fresh fruits that you bought for them to get better, the spare key they gifted you in your hand. who didn’t knew they were caught, thinking of it as simply one of their imaginations again as they see you standing on the doorway to their room, leaning on the doorframe with a low hum
“i knew i used too much calming saliva on you” you say out loud, only getting a broken whimper of your name as their fingers curl inside their hole, tired and confused. vampires had a special aphrodisiac like mixture in their saliva that they used to calm their prey before feasting and to their bad luck, you have accidentally used an excessive amount when you drank from them few days ago
“[n-naameee]♡︎ ahck t-touch me! touch me, please♡︎…?” they cried out, hearts swirling in their pupils, face flushed to the tips of their ears as they whined out deliriously with an open mouth. a sweet prey, right in your grasp. since you were the one to cause it, it would only be right to fix your mistakes right? cooing out words of faux comfort, you step over their sweat clung body, taking in the way they looked so out of it. all wet and hard, too dazed to even say your name properly
shy monsterfucker who immediately lets out a squeal when your fingers push into their hole, while their own fingers were inside too! please be gentle, at least let them get their own fingers out first? who only could let out a broken sob when they could feel how deep your fingers curled inside them, feeling the way your fingers stretched and fucked their pathetic hole open easily. they were nothing but just a weak sex toy for you, a meager little bunny whose legs twitched and shook every time the pads of your fingers jabbed at that bundle of nerves inside them, squeaking like the precious little thing they were
“baahn—! aangh ah haang buh-bite..?” they asked, teary eyes staring up at you with so much love and lust as their wet lashes flutter against their red cheeks. “b-bite me♡︎..? aamh haah i... i’ve been such a go-ooddd♡︎♡︎ good bloodbag for yoouu♥︎!!” they blabber on, arm wrapping around your shoulder as they try to pull you down to their neck. the bite mark of a few days earlier already gone and healed thanks to your healing saliva. you could just hear the thrumming of fresh red liquid from under their skin, heart beat loud and erratic like a war-drum, begging you to tear them apart
shy monsterfucker who lets out the loudest moan, breaking down into pathetic blabbers of gratitude and pleads for more as you gave in to the instincts to feed. back arching up from the bed so prettily, soft chest against your own, a rapid beating heart under their own skin that you could feel against your cold, still one. shy monsterfucker who lets out a filthy squeal, tightening around your fingers as they cum on your hand, soiling it as the tears that built up in their heart pupil eyes finally fall down
shy monsterfucker who begs for a kiss, asking for your lips to be against their own. who lets out a cute muffled sob when you do just as they asked, tasting the metallic taste of their own blood on your lips before something long slithers down their throat. long and wet with a thicker textured saliva coating it, being pushed into their mouth, forcing their jaws open as they choke of their own moan as you continue to torture that tender spot inside their tight hole. gagging as your tongue slithers down their throat, feeling the way their adam’s apple feels a little bit wider due to how deep you showed your tongue inside their mouth
shy monsterfucker who could only cum dry, into your hands, tired and body aching due to their constant actions to try and relieve their sexual frustration. mouth left open, swollen lips wet with your mixed salivas that connect your faces just a little bit longer as your forked tongue comes slithering back out. eyes all hazy, nearly shut close with how low lidded they were. you would have mistaken them for unconscious if it weren’t for the weak whimper of a “mmghh—! s-shoo goowd♥︎ t-tongue... wan’ your tongue inside meegh♡︎♡︎” as they weakly wiggled their hips
shy monsterfucker who watches as you seemingly easily manhandle their body so you could do as they nicely asked, their strong body meaning nothing to you. who watches with their hands on the pillows by their head, neck painted a saccharine red that you loved, lust heavy eyes staring at you as a few tears fall from them. who lets out a broken sob as they see the way your jaws open a bit too wide, slits appearing at the edges of your lips to make it easier for your long tongue to come out. like a snake, it licks at their inner thighs, bloodied fangs leaving cuts on the tender flesh there as their legs violently trembled in your grasp
shy monsterfucker who chokes on their moans, head getting thrown back as your tongue pushes past their tight walls, eagerly humping your face as much as their shaking body could allow, feeling the way your tongue reached deep inside them — more than any meager sex toys or dildos ever could, twisting their insides. wailing out “guhhckk♥︎♥︎! s-sho deEEHNGK♡︎ y-your tongue— f-fuckinnh aanh nyah♥︎!! fuckinng my guts! aah ngaah—♥︎!” as they felt the way your tongue moved back and forth inside their hole, claws digging into their legs and thighs to keep them in place, forcing them to keep their legs open. who blabbers drunkenly about their mind melting, mushing up their words as they slur your name before fucking squirting. shrill noise between a moan and a squeal falling from their swollen lips before losing consciousness
shy monsterfucker who will most definitely ask you to bite them again the next time they wake up
⇨ dan heng, yingxing, argenti, moze, bronya, firefly, gepard, robin, caelus, yukong, legolas, lindir, meludir, baizhu, charlotte, diluc, furina, ganyu, kaveh, nilou, kokomi, xiao, calcharo, jiyan, xiangli yao, rover, zhezi, shorekeeper, aerith, zack, angeal, tifa, vincent, sephiroth + anyone you think will fit, really
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roturo · 1 year ago
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ᯓ★DASH ╰⪼┆MMM!, I JUST WANNA CONTINUE MY PACE!
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⤹ featuring: jjk men and motorcycles!, smut, pussy slapping, size kink, unprotected sex, possessive behavior, jealousy, marking, breeding, masturbation, overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms- gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, megumi fushiguro, sukuna ryomen..
⤹ next up!: bad news! (feb 2024) ft. jjk men suffering from reader having a low sex drive, ow!
february event! -`♡´-
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gojo satoru
Sounds of skin slapping filled the room, he swears he was so close to cum for the second time in the afternoon. You? Maybe like the fifth? Sixth? He doesn’t remember how many times he ate you out– preferring to “skip lunch and have dessert” instead. 
The sounds of motorcycles and talking were silenced thanks to your moans. Not like he needed to hear the other people throwing shit at him. Probably just jealous that he always wins this type of spontaneous street races. 
He felt that familiar tingly feeling shocking his body from his hips to his neck, feeling how you were squeezing his cock he could tell you were close too, rings from his phone tried to win the sounds of his groans and moans. Notifications coming out from what you could catch to see– Geto asking where he was, that they needed him right now just so they could start the race. People were complaining of favoritism and how they shouldn’t let Satoru compete anymore.
“Sa- ‘toru, the- the race.” Taking breaths while trying to tell Gojo you were out of time and should stop– but all you could pronounce were small ‘ah, ahs~’ while he pounded behind you. “They can wait baby, just cum f’me one last time, yeah?” 
It was like a ritual for him to fuck you everytime before a race. Taking it as his “luck key”, even though he didn’t need it to win, he just accustomed himself to destress before racing. Not that you complain.
“They- they already know who’s goin’ to win anyway- shit- you feel so good babe” A specific thrust threw you over the edge and made your vision blurry, losing yourself in the feeling while Satoru was reaching his high too while he continued pounding behind you. “atta’ girl– there we go… yeah, take it f’me”
geto suguru
Don’t ask me how, but this man would love to see you riding him while he’s on top of the motorcycle. 
Small tired jumps in search of release while you stabilize yourself with the handlebar while Geto’s thrusts sync with yours. Caging your small body on his while he also stabilized himself by moving his hands to the handlebar, feeling the motorcycle tremble and having to put one of his feet down to stop it from moving too much.
You were too lost in the pleasure you wouldn’t even notice the white of his hands because of how hard he was gripping the handlebar, one of them moving to grip your waist instead, helping you get even deeper in his cock. All he could see was the connection between the two of you, his back pressed to yours.
“Ahh Sshit baby- S’perfect f’me–” He had to bite your shoulder to not embarrass himself and moan louder than you. His hand on your waist moving towards your core while he starts giving small slaps on your clit. The small pain he was inflicting aroused you more– taking a mental note that you would most likely forget to buy a new leather saddle for him. The both of you would already reach your highs and he would stop thrusting, making you cockwarm him, but he wouldn’t stop slapping your pussy. Loving your body reaction while he chuckled everytime you trembled on top of him each time he gave a hard slap.
Your clit was hard and pulsing because of how much he slapped it, your arousal wetting Geto’s thighs when you came again just by slapping your pussy. Feeling his hard cock inside of you he wouldn’t move and preferred to continue playing with you.
nanami kento
It all started with an innocent act. You sitting on his bike while admiring it— delicately touching it, your doe eyes and small body compared to his did something inside him. 
You just looked so… pretty sitting on his bike. Your hips rolling trying to find a comfortable position in this big bike of his– remembering the same movement when he’s inside of you. Trying to pleasure yourself on his big cock making an appearance on your tummy– not letting you touch yourself or him, you just had to cum by your movements and his cock.
He loved it. Watching your body move and using him as a sex toy– but for you it was a punishment, not being able to touch him, or to feel him in the right way stressed you a lot– making it harder to cum.
He loses the mental battle on his head and now finds himself between your thighs while you balance yourself trying to grip whatever part of his bike.Your legs caging his head even deeper in your center, he never felt so… needy for something. Being so ‘patient and tolerant’ flew across the window the moment he saw you end his bike next to each other.
Maybe because it was the two things he most adored in the world? You first, his bike second. But it doesn’t matter what was the cause, but now he’s sure the effect will be him sitting on his bike while you ride him.
megumi fushiguro
You thought it was funny? You know how easily stressed Megumi becomes when a race is coming. He’s a perfectionist, and really ambitious. So he could never let himself lose, not when he has a reputation to sustain now.
He needs to feel enough. Even though you always tell him he’s more than enough and should treat his hobby as it is: a hobby– he should take it lightly and enjoy it rather than making it something that would hurt him in any kind of way.
But the moment he saw you giggling next to one of his ‘rivals’ he’s sure something inside his brain magically turned on and made him feel an anger that he couldn’t quite describe. He trusts you. But seeing you next to someone else rather than him really bothered him.
He doesn’t consider himself as a jealous boyfriend– but you were just so perfect for him that he was afraid of losing you in any kind of way. He wouldn't admit that kind of sadness and insecurity inside him to anyone, he prefers to disguise it as rage. That didn’t quit the fact that he’s jealous right now though.
He obviously won the race, the moment you went to hug him and congratulate him you knew something was wrong. The way his body reacted to yours wasn’t normal, tough and stiff, like he was almost forcing himself to hug you lovely when all he wanted it was to fuck you infront of everybody and show them you were his.
Maybe that’s an idea for another day.
But right now when the both of you got home, he told you not to get off his bike. You were confused- maybe he’s taking you somewhere else?
Wrong.
He brought himself a chair, placed it so he was facing the right side of it. All he did was say two words.
“ride it.”
He pointed at the bike with a movement of his chin, your face showed confusion, but he was applying the silent treatment. He never did it to you– so that’s how you knew to do what he says before making it worse.
So that’s how you find yourself naked on his bike, trying to do the best you can to cum for a second time while Megumi watches, sitting on the chair jerking off his cock–. the needy mushroom tip showing how close he was, his balls visible swollen because of how he was edging himself, making sure “to save as much cum to dump it inside of you and mark you as his”
Breed you like an animal the moment you wet his bike again, leaving marks that would last days, just so the other fuckers know to not get near anything that it’s his.
sukuna ryomen
He would ignore the bike tbh.
This man wouldn’t care where he is, the moment he saw you next to his bike he knew he had to fuck you– he knew you had to mark it with your arousal caused thanks to him and that’s how he would remember you even far away from you.
But let’s be real now, this man would fuck you the moment he feels blood near his cock, it doesn’t matter anything else than you and his cock. Just pounding inside you, breeding you, and training you while you ride him saying “it’s the same shit if you want to ride a bike”
Not that he'st wrong, but you wouldn’t have a dick touching your g-spot everytime and something overstimulating your clit. But basically the same– yeah…
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princessbrunette · 5 months ago
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⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … princess going digital! ♡
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bsf!jj followed you on all of your social media accounts. well, he thought he did. ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱ ౨ৎ⋆ ˚。⋆
your instagram was adorable and demure. photo dumps and stories of your daily iced coffee in your little manicured hand. you had pinterest boards too — jj had seen you scrolling through endless pictures of clothes on his bed and asked questions. you helped him make his own account so he could find new ideas on how to customise his board. he hasn’t opened the app since, but it seemed like it made you happy so he couldn’t find it in himself to delete it off his lockscreen.
he followed you on twitter too. he knew he did because he saw your tweets all up and down his timeline when he would be scrolling late at night trying to find porn. tweets about the cashier that was rude to you, or about that one song you just can’t get out your head.
he thought he’d covered all bases with you. he liked to be in tune with everything you were doing — and maybe that was wrong for a best friend to want, but the two of you were close! it only felt right. it may also have something to do with the fact he’s head over heels for you.
you were laying on your front on his bed. contrasting so sweetly against the boyishness of his room with your cute little hello kitty shirt and denim skirt — epitome of girly girl in such an unfitting space. it made him smile, and he nearly forgot to tune into what you were saying.
you were ranting about your mother again, the woman making it her mission to constantly bring you down.
“seriously jayj, if you saw the way she spoke to me...” you mutter with a frowny little pout as your fingers tap away at the screen, assumably responding to a text.
“i have seen the way she speaks to you. the lady is a nut job, no offence.” jj leans back slightly, tossing a balled up pair of socks from his laundry in the air and catching it.
“her texts are even worse.” you huff.
“s’alright. i’ll be your mommy.” he quips as you’re distracted by pulling up the correct screen.
“jj.” you tsk before turning your phone around. “look!” you whine, and he knows he’s meant to be looking at the texts displayed infront of him. but with undiagnosed adhd, jj couldn’t help but find his focus on the notification sliding down at the top of the screen. the twitter icon, notifying someone reposted your tweet — however, it was accompanied with another username he’d never seen before. an account ran by you assumably, that he no idea about.
“huh… yeah, no yeah. she’s batshit.” jj shakes himself off as he takes mental note of the username, leaning back and hoping you don’t ask any questions knowing he didn’t read the texts at all. you seem none the wiser, continuing to complain and go about your business. that evening, it’s time for you to head home. jj squeezes you at the doorway, cups your cheek and tells you that if your mom is giving you grief, you can come right on back. it seemed to comfort the pout off your face, and you skip off.
now it’s time to sate his curiosity.
when jj gets into bed that night, he types the username into twitter. it takes a few tries to get the specific spelling right, as it had been a few hours and slipped his mind — but finally, the account filled his screen.
your age is attached to the account, yet no name. there was definitely a sense of anonymity— to the point where you hadn’t even told him about it. he considered doing the right thing and clicking off — but jj didn’t always do the right thing, and this was one of those times. the first thing he notices is how clearly you the account is. the header, the profile picture — even the font in your bio was so… you. all curlicues and girly and pink — it was undeniably his best friend.
and then he scrolls.
‘want my best friend 2 hold me down n use me so bad :(’ a tweet from 3 days ago. the blonde sits up in bed, blinking at the screen. that was him, right? eagerly, he continues his scrolling — finding endless tweets about your sexual desires, fantasies, anecdotes about jj himself. it didn’t take much longer of scrolling until he comes across a video — his face heating and crotch stiffening at the familiarity of it all. it was your bedroom, and your face was cropped out. that one pair of pink panties he occasionally caught peeks of beneath your skirt hang off the ankle of your knee high clad legs, pretty pussy on display, glistening as you roll your hips, desperately fucking a pillow.
“god… damn.” he breathes, hand coming up to rub his chest as if to attempt to still his quick-beating heart. he stuffs a tongue in his cheek, part of him wanted to be mad that you were letting strangers on the internet see you like this before he got to. it was a childish type of jealousy that made his hands sweat and the back of his neck all prickly.
a bird squawks outside his window, causing the maybank boy to jump out of his skin like he was about to be caught watching his best friend get herself off. he juggles the phone, quickly checking the screen to make sure he hadn’t accidentally liked any posts. he hadn’t, and he exhales— but with the commotion, he’d accidentally refreshed the page. the loading wheel disappears with a pop, and a new tweet displays itself from three minutes prior.
‘my bsf looks after me so good :( he shld make me feel btter by letting me cum on his fingers <3’
it would be stupid to make a move. he would be potentially destroying a friendship, and on top of that — you could be mad at him for snooping. it was kind of a betrayal of trust after all, similar to if he’d read your diary. but his dick was hard and had taken over the steering wheel that operates his brain — and like he always said, stupid things had great outcomes all the time.
so with a clammy hand, he calls you.
“whats up jayj? did i leave something at your place again?” you croak, sounding all sleepy and cute. god, he couldn’t believe he’d waited so long.
“uh… so, like — imma cut to the chase, with everything goin’ on at your place, i don’t love the idea of you stayin’ there tonight. i’m comin’ to get you. you’re stayin’ here.” he makes up a quick excuse and feels kind of bad about it. his own desire toward you being masked as genuine concern for a friend. he expects some questioning, maybe even some resistance— but you perk up instantly.
“okay!”
and that’s exactly how you end up cradled in his lap with the rings at his knuckles tickling your opening from how deep in your greedy, drooling pussy they were.
“hmm— mm—huh—” you’re whining, all incoherent and fucked out with your cheek smushed against him, only two orgasms in. jj is grinning ear to ear, like some kind of sicko — never in his life thinking you’d want him like this. he almost wished he’d kept up the act for longer, preyed on your twitter account for longer to see what else you’d say, but he couldn’t help himself. he’d wanted you since you met in high school, and he was hungry.
“what’d i tell ya about not asking for things? could’ve just told me dude, i literally wanted this more than you.” he thinks out loud and you groan, pulling yourself up face to face with the handsome blonde.
“don’t call me dude when your fingers are n’side me!” you slur, lip all puffy and pouted. he smirks, unable to stop himself from finding amusement in your neediness and tilts his head a little so he was breathing right into your mouth.
“i’m sorry that’s my bad. baby.” he corrects himself, before pressing his lips to yours. that was much better.
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mattsfavoritestar · 5 months ago
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I'M YOURS, chris sturniolo
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midnight snack mini series.
synopsis… you started to grow tired of chris playing with your feelings so you decided to hang around matt instead. let’s just say he did not like that.
warnings… brothers bsf!chris, mean!chris (he’s such an asshole), toxic!chris, jealous!chris, possessive!chris (bros a walking red flag atp😭😭), sex tape, couch sex, creampie, no protection (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT), big dick chris, rough sex, overstimulation, chris lowkey has a dacryphilla kink, and a breeding kink, kinda public sex (also kinda got caught)
@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3
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the door opens to a sleepy matt rubbing his eyes. you couldn’t even look at him, but you still mumbled a small ‘hi’. you knew matt felt bad for you. he shook his head as he walked back to his room leaving you to close the door on your way in.
did you really sneak out your house to see the one person who despises you? the second you saw his contact flashing on your phone you immediately left. your heart was racing as you made your way to his room. of course the door was left open for you. of course he was laying in his bed scrolling on his phone with zero care in the world.
he looks up at you with those piercing blue eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. "you're late," he says, voice dripping with arrogance. you roll your eyes as you took off your shoes,"i had to make sure he didn't notice," you muttered.
chris motions you to come closer. by time you reached within arm's length, he pulls you close, his hands rough against your skin. "he doesn't own you," he murmurs, lips brushing against your ear. it felt like it had a double meaning, but you shrugged it off.
you were pulled onto his lap. chris immediately attached his lips onto yours. your hands found themselves at the nape of his neck, tugging lightly. he groans as he melts further into your touch. to him you were intoxicating. a drug. he wanted to pull you closer, but he didn’t.
then his phone rang. at first, he ignored it and continued molding his lips with yours but then messages started spamming his phone. you pulled back and sighed, “just answer it” you say. you got off his lap to sit on his bed. chris stands up then answers the notifications. his fingers moved quickly, and his face grew more agitated.
“go home” he stated. you look up at him with a confused look painted on your face. you exhaled, didn’t even want an explanation so you just left. as you made your way up the stairs you saw matt leaving his room as well.
“want a ride?” he asks. you nodded then followed him out the door. it wasn’t the first time matt took you home after chris kicked you out. matt was also well aware on how your clueless your brother is with you two sneaking around. the ride was silent. but silence with matt was never awkward. it was peaceful.
“no the insane part was the graveyard scene” you laughed. you and matt were sitting in the living room of his house. you’ve been hanging out with him for the past week to clear your head to avoid chris at all cost.
“you should’ve seen your face” you were practically crying how hard you were laughing. matt just smiled at you, he jokingly shoved you making you fall on your side laughing even more. the sound of the door opening stopped the two of you causing you to look up. nick walked in followed by chris.
“i heard you cackling from outside by the way” nick comments as he makes his way upstairs. chris didn’t even glance your way when he walked past. the room felt tense. suffocating. “ m’gonna go get ready for bed” matt mutters as he gets up to leave.
now it was just you and chris. it was so silent you could hear him breathing heavily from the kitchen. instead of saying a smart remark or pouncing on you, he left. he went to his room leaving you alone. you had so many thoughts running through your head. you didn’t even notice the drowsiness taking over your body till you curled up and closed your eyes.
you woke up to the sound of the tv playing and the smell of an all too familiar cologne. he was sitting right next to you. it was almost taunting.
“had fun with matt?” he asked. you wanted to pretend you were sleeping. but of course, chris just had to look down right at you. “still not talking to me?” he smiled mockingly. you sat up then pulled you knees to your chest, resting your chin on them. you heard chris shuffle a bit then felt him staring at you.
you didn’t know if it was your nerves or desperation that led to your body heating up. you felt him caress your cheek for a second before he grabbed your jaw and made you look at him. “my dick wasn’t enough for you? had to go see if matt would fill you like i do?” he asks in a taunting matter.
you felt the familiar burn of water pricking in your eyes. chris squeezes your face into a forced pout then pulls you closer. “s’the matter baby? you wanted my attention so bad before” his focus was on your lips, chris didn’t even seem to care about the tears dripping onto his hand.
you pulled back with full force causing you to fall backwards slightly. “m’not doing this anymore” you say trying to wipe your face. chris kisses his teeth then smirks. it wasn’t a playful or sexual one. he was pissed.
“yeah?”
he crawls on top of you, “you really think he can fuck you the way i do?” he snarled. his eyes looked darker than before. one of his hands gripped the top of the couch while the other pinned right next to your waist.
he was leaning down, practically hovering over your lips. that same hand that was by your side now shifted to your thigh. “tell me to stop and i’ll go” he whispered. you shook your head as you took his hand and guided him beyond your waistband and further down. chris closed the gap, interlocking your lips as you gasped at the feeling of his fingers sliding down your folds.
he was going at a slow pace, savoring the feeling. then he stopped and pulled his hands out. “why’d you stop?” you whined. chris smiled at you, “why don’t you go ask matt to play with your cunt?” he taunts. just as the previous tears finished drying, warm fat ones rolled down your cheeks. your emotions were heightened, a mixture of sexual frustration and anger.
you tried pushing him off you, but he barely budged. “why do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” you cried. you tried to wipe your tears again but this time chris pins your hands down, stopping you. “s’not fair you get to talk to other girls but i can’t even be friends with matt” you sobbed.
chris says nothing. instead, he peppers your face with kisses, making sure to kiss ever tear that fall. you tried squirming away, but he had you pinned down with his legs on both your sides. “wanna be my only girl?” he stopped to question. you hesitated before slowly nodding.
chris then fully sits up and pulls out his phone. he turns on the camera then props it on a pepsi can which stood on the coffee table. you watched as he positioned your legs to the side then take off both your pants and underwear. you closed your legs quickly as you looked back at the camera then to chris who was still smiling like a psychopath.
“trust me?” he asks. you replied in agreement before he flipped you over leaving your whole ass on display. a slap to your ass before his fingers dipped into your throbbing cunt. you moaned into the couch while your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
“c’mon baby show them how much better your pussy is than their’s” chris groans as he curls his fingers. he was stretching you, preparing you for his cock. his fingers slipped out of you and was replaced by a slap on your cunt. chris pulled himself out of his pants. he teases your clit with his tip then leaned to hover over you.
“don’t think i forgot about you ignoring me all week” he whispered into your ears before roughly buried himself deep into your cunt. you let out a choked moan. you had no time to adjust before chris started rutting his hips making sure you feel every inch, every vein.
“chris- “, you could barely get words out your mouth, “matt- room”. chris pulls you up by the neck, holding your stomach in place with his arm. “let him hear how good i’m making you feel” he kisses your neck, “maybe i should send him this video too. show him how much of a whore you are for me” he taunted.
you could feel him kissing your cervix with every thrust. the pain was overthrown by delicious overwhelming pleasure that made your head fuzzy and blank. it was like he was fucking you as hard as he could. you couldn’t even hear him mocking your hiccups or telling the camera how he owns your pussy.
“all yours baby m’all yours. only you” he groans into your ears. you reach to grab the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss. it was wet and sloppy; you were drooling and couldn’t focus on his lips. you couldn’t even tell him that you were close, but the constant clenching told him already.
you whined as you felt yourself grow more sensitive. “go ahead baby, cum on your dick” he says onto your lips. you tugged at the hair the curled on his neck as your vision went white and your legs started shaking. chris didn’t stop his pace. instead, he went faster.
he let you drop back onto the couch and grabbed your hips. this time he put one of his legs up causing him to hit a whole new angle. the overstimulation was a mixture of torture and utter bliss. he looked to the camera then let out a breathy laugh. “look how fucked out you are” he coo’d, “your dick feels this good, yeah? fucking speechless”.
chris’s rhythm finally starts to falter but his grip on your waist grew tighter. “m’gonna stuff my pussy so full, not gonna waste a drop” he groans. a final harsh thrust followed by pumps of a thick warm substance filled you to the brim.
he pulls out with a soft whine. chris then goes to stop the video before pausing. he noticed you haven’t said anything nor made a sound. he turned around to see your face smushed into the couch, drooling pooling by your mouth. your eyes looked heavy as if you were falling asleep you were were falling asleep.
chris pulled up his pants, turning off the tv, then picked you up not even bothering to pick up your clothes. as he walks towards the stairs, he smiles to himself noticing matt’s door wide open.
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ego13 · 2 months ago
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LET ME IN YOUR OCEAN – YU JIMIN
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now playing : chase atlantic - swim
SYNOPSIS : your mafia girl loves it too much when you bring her lunch to work (in fact, she doesn’t mind fucking you on her desk either.)
warnings : mafia!jimin, lesbian sex, service top!jimin, praise kink, hickeys, fingering sex in public places, pet names (princess, good girl, kitty).
pairing : yu jimin x fem!reader
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you? oh, her favourite baby-girl, damn, jimin loves her girl too much, she loves to pamper you incredibly, because if this comes up in conversation, then yu does not hesitate to spend several million a day on her princess. expensive prada dresses, diamond necklaces and rings are what you literally swim in, bouquets of flowers, romantic dinners and then night walks in a black porsche with jimin - your daily routine, her hand on your thigh as you both silently drive through Seoul at night listening to your favorite playlist, during such moments it always seemed to you that there were only you two left in the world, and no one else
and if her girl wants it, jimin will buy the whole world for her, as long as it’s really just the two of you.
when you first saw her in the casino, you would never have thought that a cold-blooded member of the mafia could be such a gentle romantic, whose words always made your knees weak. one of the nicest things was that she was so close to you, she didn’t allow anyone to see her as tender except her princess, because you were the only one who truly deserved it. and the only downside of all this was the fact that she was often busy, although in a very interesting way she always made up for her guilt to you. a romantic dinner, another necklace and wonderful sex right against the wall in the hallway of your mansion is probably the best way for her to made it up.
waking up after another such evening, you realized that jimin was not next to him in bed, which made you slightly upset, after all, your desire to wake up in her arms, spending the whole morning sleepily hugging, alas, was cut short. you stretched, rubbing your eyes sleepily, reaching over to the bedside table and taking your phone off the charger, having unblocked it, the first thing you did was go into chat with yu, realizing that she didn’t even write about where and why it would be so early in the morning.
you : jiminnie? no good mornings? :(
you : i hope that you really have something important, because depriving me of morning hugs and breakfast in bed is a crime
just as you were about to get out of bed, several notifications came to your phone, and seeing the messages from yu, your face broke into a sleepy smile.
jim💘 : so sorry, princess, had to leave early, important meeting.
jim💘 : you know that i love you, princess?
jim💘 : i would never leave my precious girl without cuddles and kisses without reason.
jim💘 : i’ll be home in the evening, afterwards, expensive champagne and a delicious dinner, perhaps even a continuation in the bedroom, or in the kitchen, if I can’t restrain myself. i love u.
after reading the messages, you were mentally preparing for the upcoming evening, fuck, she knew exactly all your weak points, and knew where to hit so that you wouldn’t get angry. getting out of bed, you stretched again along the way, going into the kitchen, wanting to drink a glass of water, you noticed that you forgot to take lunch with you, which you carefully make every evening. a small pink lunchbox with hello kitty and a small love note is what jimin put in her black leather bag, and it made her heart beat faster every time.
you were a little upset, but you could put up with it, considering how flighty jimin can be sometimes, so you once again got excited about the idea of ​​going to her office to give lunch for her forgetful girlfriend. quickly getting dressed, you called the personal driver whom yu hired with the words 'my princess will not walk several kilometers on the asphalt every time with her beautiful legs so give me the most skilled driver'. the road was quite fast, and upon entering the large building, one of the bodyguards let you inside with a warm smile, personally escorting you to jimin's office.
knocking on the door several times, you opened it, seeing how she carefully rummages through documents in her damn sexy glasses, the way she looked made you turn into a waterfall every time you saw her. finally looking up from the papers, she smiled brightly, seeing her beloved girl.
"princess," getting up from the table, she took off her glasses and put them aside, she came closer to you, seeing a pink lunch box in your hands, "damn, I'm too forgetful and forgot my girl's lunch..." she awkwardly scratched the back of her head, taking it from your hands, placing it on the table, returning her gaze to you as her hands found their way to your hips, "you didn't have to drive halfway across town to see me, sweetheart, but I really fucking appreciate it, kitty..."
her lips carefully approached hers as your noses touched each other, finally pulling you into a slow and loving kiss, deepening the kiss, yu buried her head in the hair at the back of her head with one hand, and touched tour waist with the other hand. you hummed right into the kiss as she picked you up, moving her hands to her hips, and sat her on the table, settling between your legs. having stopped tormenting your lips, she lowered herself to your neck, while her free hand lifted your skirt, getting under your underwear, jimin began to slowly stimulate your clit, making circular movements, carefully watching your expression, searching for any hint of discomfort, “good girl... already so wet for me?"
your body kept shaking, and the thighs tried to close, but yu was standing between them, and did not allow this to happen. your hands fell on her shoulders, you pulled her closer, so close that ypu pressed herself against her, resting your head on her shoulder, her free hand nuzzled your thigh until her fingers finally slid inside you, causing you to let out a loud whine that was like honey to her ears, "just like that, you're doing so well, kitty, it feels like you were created for me to be inside you..."
yu's lips kissed your skin from your neck down, reaching the collarbones and leaving several purple marks there, again fell to her beloved neck, without ceasing to work with her fingers and feeling how your body began to tremble.
she felt with her fingers how the walls tightened around her fingers, enveloping and sucking, and in the next second a languid cry flew from your lips, which made her instinctively squeeze your waist tighter, not allowing you to fall off the table, on the contrary, helping you sit more comfortably, kissing your neck soothingly, enjoying the sight of the purple marks on your milky skin, "everything is fine, princess, my good girl..."
finally moving away from your neck, her hand combed the fallen strand of your hair behind your ear, smiling, she liked seeing you like this too much, all excited, trembling from orgasm, while your hair stuck to your forehead and barely visible drops of sweat flowed from your temple.
"you know, after such a “lunch”, I’m no longer as hungry as before your arrival, you can come to me more often, I’ll be all for it."
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kisses4reid · 7 months ago
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understand? pt. 1 | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,
summary - you’re a polyglot translator assigned to work for the bau in a cross-national case, and there’s a doctor who wants to impress you.
genre - fem!reader, SHE/HER r, fluff, meet cute, you know more than spencer and he’s attracted to that
warnings - you're both awkward, mentions of gross case file photos, little research about polyglots actually done so there are inaccuracies, cliffhanger for part 2.
w/c - 1.4k
a/n - thank you for the req anon!! there was multiple parts to this but i really like the first idea so that’s what this fic is about, might keep the other idea for later hehe. i did change some aspects. love you, thank you for the support <33 there will be multiple parts!!! stay tuned!!!
req - hi pia 💞💝🩷💓 how r u? i hope you’re feeling wonderful! this is my first time requesting smthg i apologize if i get something wrong! i’ve been having 2 thoughts about spencer x fem!reader, where reader is a russian translator and idk they meet cute or she has to work with the bau helping them on a case. just wanted to give these ideas to you, obviously feel free to do anything with them! i really enjoy your work and your writing is incredible! i have your notifications on so i am always reading whatever you post! have a great day pia 💝 lots n lots of kisses for u!
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This was not what you expected. 
You, a woman in your late twenties that spent most of her time in a room listening to voices and decoding foreign messages, didn’t know what you expected. But this: a scary boss, an italian old man, and a skinny college kid, was not it. 
“Y/n L/n? I’m Aaron Hotchner, the unit chief, and this is Agent Rossi and Doctor Agent Reid.” 
You nodded your head, thick hair covering your top eyelashes as you glanced at the men. Agent Rossi shook your hand, and Dr Reid simply stood and gawked at you. To be honest, it made you worried. You had been warned this was a close knit team, that they trusted each other more than anything and that you shouldn’t get attached to any of them as you’d only be assisting them for one case.
Maybe they just didn’t warm up to new people. 
“I’ll do your formal introduction to the rest of the team now, if you’re settled down.” He asks cooly. You like the way his voice rasps, it’s assertive yet comforting. 
“Yes, of course. I can’t wait.” You smiled reassuringly at the unit chief, not ignoring the raised eyebrow you received from the silent young man now behind you.
Aaron Hotchner, your new boss for the next week or so, lead you to a large room with a circular table sat in the middle. There were two other women, one blonde and one raven haired, and another bald man that glanced at you immediately after you entered. They smiled at you and trailed your steps to where you stood beside the unit chief in front of a large TV screen.
“Everyone, this is Agent Y/n L/n. She’ll be assisting us with the Becker case you’ve all been informed of. She’ll mainly be our translator and interpreter, but she’ll also be useful for cultural identifiers and anything that we wouldn’t notice otherwise.” 
You nodded along, never being a fan of introductions since you moved to America as a small child. 
“This is JJ, our liaison, Agent Emily Prentiss and Agent Derek Morgan.” 
The ladies smiled at you, in fact all of them did. They were surprisingly open to the fact you would be joining them, the fact made your shoulders loosen and a breath to be let out discreetly. 
Next, you were on a long plane flight to Maine with Agents you had known for little under two hours, conversing about victim profiles and motives. The table in front of the ladies and your boss was strewn with victim files and gruesome photos. And while you weren’t a stranger to the dangers and violence the job brought, you had gotten comfortable with only hearing about it and not seeing it. So you opted to hover around the table and stay silent, you weren’t a trained profiler after all, just a translator.  
There was a wave of cologne that disrupted your senses, causing you to angle your head back, only to be greeted by the tall doctor. 
You smiled softly, assuming the closeness was due to the aeroplane's arrangement. Also because you got the vibe that Spencer didn’t like you. 
“Are you okay? You seem uneasy,” he asked. It was the first time you heard his voice. And it was as adolescent as you imagined for someone so young, but it had a sophisticated edge to it, with a honey-like undertone. Finding things in voices as if they were perfumes was something you unconsciously started to do since working as a translator.
“I’m fine.” You grinned reassuringly, turning back to focus on the team’s findings. 
Spencer furrowed his eyebrows slightly and stepped away, sitting down beside Morgan who had taken a seat at the back. Morgan squinted at his friend, noticing the rare confusion splayed on his face as he stared in your direction. 
“What’s up? Pretty girl got your tongue?” Morgan removed his headphones with a cheeky smile displayed on his handsome face.
“For someone who specialises in languages she doesn’t talk much.” 
Morgan smirked, “Maybe not to you.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong though.” Spencer ripped his gaze off the back of your head.
“You’ve been staring at her since she walked through those doors. You were so distracted you didn’t even greet her this morning.” Morgan pointed out. Spencer tilted his head confused, a small blush creeping up his neck. “I watched the whole thing from the conference room, so did JJ and Emily.” 
The tall boy slumped in his chair and forced himself to look out of the plane’s window, avoiding a reply to Morgan as he knew it would only result in more teasing. You were physically attractive, everyone could see that, but the thing that caught Spencer’s attention was your intelligence. He was no stranger to being a polyglot, he learnt languages for fun, but you were simply next level. Morgan studied Spencer’s face for a second before raising his attention to your hovering state. “Agent Y/n L/n.” Morgan called, causing Spencer to widen his eyes and immediately adjust his slumped position in his plane seat. You turned your head in surprise, slightly confused why you would be needed anywhere else than the files you had been translating for the past two minutes. Your heels were silent against the carpeted floors, but Spencer could sense your presence anyways. 
“How many languages do you speak?” The stoic man asked, his eyes darting between you and the doctor below you. You were not short, your genes didn’t allow for it, but you had noticed you were only taller than JJ and Rossi in the team and it felt foreign to not tower over everyone. “Um, I speak 8 languages fluently, and 4 languages semi-fluently.” You stated, readying to turn back to assist the team before Morgan spoke up once again
“Did you know that pretty boy can speak Spanish and German?” 
Before Spencer could help himself, he corrected the man, “And Latin and Russian,” Spencer turned his head up to you, “But I can understand more.” 
You smiled, genuinely impressed and confused on how a man that young could learn that much. But to be fair, you were in the same boat. The nickname got your attention, locking it in the back of your mind to remind yourself that the people you were working with did in fact have senses of humour, and weren’t just heartless officers. There wasn’t any reason to think that though, as you had been cared for with respect and even Prentiss made a funny remark beforehand. It sort of felt like a family dinner you were intruding on. “That’s impressive, Doctor Reid.” You reply genuinely. 
“I mean it’s nothing compared to you though,” his voice was pitched slightly higher and his hands started motioning to nothing in particular, “your brain is constantly changing from high activity to low activity when you're translating from one language to another. Your language network, the lateral frontal lobe, is constantly lighting up and dimming down depending on what language you hear, ordinary people’s language networks only turn on and off.” 
Morgan smirked and glanced up at your intrigued and surprised expression. You nodded, a small blush coating the tips of your ears as you responded, “Thank you.” You didn’t really know what else to say, which is funny for someone who understands so many languages, so you simply smiled and turned back to the table. Spencer slumped again, watching you walk away and asking himself why he would inform a pretty girl about her own brain, when she most definitely already knows about it. 
“Don’t worry too much, Reid.” Morgan called, grabbing Spencer’s attention. The boy raised a brow, not understanding. “She digs it, I can tell. But she’s just like you, knows how to speak in a million ways and still doesn’t know how to small talk.” 
You landed without any more awkward interactions, and got introduced to some sheriffs in Maine, one of them giving you a tighter handshake than the rest and a stare that could only mean unpleasant things. It wasn't something sexist or creepy that lingered in his eyes, it was more like hatred. Spencer took the sheriff's attention away from you after noticing what the whole team did, and asked him to show him the records they kept at the precinct.
Emily Prentiss came up behind you and placed a hand on your upper arm, squeezing it like she understood what you had thought you'd seen. Out of everyone else in the team, she would understand the most.
taglist (open!!): @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld
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dreamescapeswriting · 3 months ago
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Exposed ~ BC
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‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅WORD COUNT: 3.4
‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Chan x reader
‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅GENRE: established relationship, angst, soft ending, chan being protective boyfriend, your relationship is leaked,
‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - October 2024
‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST
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It started off like any other day. Everything felt normal when you woke up, you and Chan had kissed goodbye like you did every single day before work and everything had been as it should have.
The usual hum of the office buzzed around you, and you sat at your desk with a smile, still laughing with your colleagues about a ridiculous moment that happened during the morning meeting.
“I can’t believe he actually said that,” you chuckled, glancing at your friend across the desk. You couldn't believe one of the interns had taken over the meeting after your boss had left, acting as though he'd know exactly what he was talking about... newsflash...he didn't.
“Does he even know what ‘synergy’ means?” you giggled a little and your friend, Sarah, shook her head, trying to keep her laughter under control.
“He’s just throwing words around to sound smart. I thought we were all going to lose it when he started talking about optimizing our optimized optimizations.” The two of you burst into laughter again, drawing curious glances from the people nearby, glares soon followed and you rolled your eyes. It was one of those lighthearted mornings—work felt manageable, and the little stresses of life were nowhere to be found.
Even your secret life with Chan didn’t feel overwhelming today, sometimes it felt hard to hide that part of your life from everyone you knew at work. But for nearly four years, you had both kept your relationship perfectly hidden, enjoying your time together away from prying eyes. You didn't care that you had to hide it, you understood why since life with an idol wasn't going to be all it was made out to be in the fanfictions you sometimes found yourself reading.
"Poor thing, maybe we should invite him to lunch though, just so we don't make him feel isolated," you told her as she nodded along with you. The last thing you wanted was to be mean to someone who clearly was trying his best here.
Soon the laughter died down, and you leaned back in your chair, reaching for your coffee. It was still warm—just the way you liked it. Everything felt routine. Normal.
But normal didn’t last.
Your phone, sitting innocuously beside your keyboard, buzzed once. Then again. And again. It wasn't like you to get so many notifications unless your friend was off from work and spammed you with reels so you bit down on your lip. You weren't exactly allowed your phone out so you glanced at it briefly, expecting a couple of messages from Chan or maybe a group chat blowing up. But the notifications were relentless.
Your brow furrowed as you picked up the phone. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the flood of messages—dozens of notifications on social media, texts from unknown numbers, and even missed calls. Confusion turned to panic as you scrolled through the chaos, trying to make sense of it all.
“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, noticing the sudden change in your expression. Before you could answer, another notification popped up on your screen—a tagged post from one of Chan’s members. Your stomach dropped as you read the caption:
CHANGBIN(jutdwae): "Congratulations on four years! You two deserve all the happiness."
You blinked, reading it again to make sure you weren’t imagining things. Not only was there the captain and tag of your Instagram there were countless images of you and Chan together.
No, this couldn’t be happening. It had to be a mistake. But the fans knew. They had pieced it together. The relationship you had kept under wraps for years was now out there for the world to see.
Your phone was going insane and there was no way you were going to be able to get into contact with Chan at this rate so you slid the phone into DND mode.
“I—uh, I have to go,” you mumbled, standing up from your desk, but your legs felt weak, your mind racing. There was no way this was happening, Changbin was usually more careful than this. What was he thinking?!
Your coworkers had started to murmur, glancing at their own phones, probably seeing the same posts and comments. Some of them gave you sympathetic looks, others were confused, staring at you to make sure that you were the person you claimed to be.
"Yn, wait." Sarah sounded panicked as she walked with you, holding your lower back as she shook her head at you,
"What's wrong-" That’s when you noticed it. Outside, through the wide office windows, a crowd had gathered. A large one. The people were holding their phones, taking pictures, pointing. You could hear the muffled sounds of their voices growing louder.
Oh no.
“Y/N, talk to me...What’s going on?” Sarah asked, standing beside you, worry etched into her features. You swallowed the lump in your throat, Sarah knew you were seeing someone you couldn't talk about...someone well-known in the media but she'd respected you when you couldn't tell her who.
“Fans,” you whispered, unable to tear your eyes away from the window. You had no idea how you were even going to get out of there with that mess building up outside.
“They know. About me and Chan.” Sarah’s eyes widened in shock at the name. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words were drowned out by the sudden realization that the fans weren’t just outside—they were here for you and clearly weren't just going to walk away anytime soon.
Your phone rang suddenly, startling you out of your daze. It was Chan. Thanks to him being in your favourites he was the only number able to get through to you,
“Y/N! Are you okay? I’m so, so sorry. I swear we’re trying to fix this,” his voice was panicked, almost breathless. You knew his management were going to do everything that they could to make this all go away but you were still stuck,
“I’m at work, Chan,” you whispered, struggling to stay calm. You knew how crazy people seemed to be when it came to idols but you had no idea it was going to end up like this,
“There are fans outside. How do they even know where I am?” He cursed under his breath, and you could hear the tension in his voice. He said something to someone in the room before he bit down on his lap,
“Stay inside. Don’t go near them. I’m coming to get you.” He told you but you heard arguing on the other end of the line, Chan's voice raising as he yelled back at whoever was yelling at him.
"Chan..." you whispered, you already knew what he was going to say next. There was no way JYP was going to let him walk out of that building to come and save you.
“I’m at the company, but they’re not letting me leave. There’s media everywhere outside, and they won’t let me out,” he sounded helpless, something you weren’t used to hearing from him. Chan was always calm and composed, but now he was frantic, desperate to fix this. You hated that he was in this mess right now and you weren't right there to support him throughout it.
“I know you've got shit to deal with...B-But Chan, I don’t know what to do,” you admitted quietly, your hand shaking as you pressed the phone to your ear. Tears were building up in your eyes at the thought of walking outside and being mobbed...What if one of them hurt you? You were sure STAY wouldn't but there were some fans just crazy enough to try,
“It’s really bad, Chan.” You whispered as you saw people banging on the windows and screaming. There were police doing what they could to disburse the crowd but it wasn't exactly something that was just going to go away with a snap of their fingers.
You could hear him pacing on the other end, muttering to himself, trying to figure out a solution.
“I’ll call someone. I’ll get you out of there. Just... just stay away from the windows. I’ll figure this out.” At that moment, your boss appeared beside you, his expression serious as he glanced out at the growing crowd outside the building.
"Chan, my boss is here..." You kept your eyes on your boss who seemed worried about all of this,
"Baby, I promise you I'm going to fix this...T-Text me...or something, please...Please," The desperation dripping from Chan's voice made your chest tighten,
"Sure...I will, baby, I gotta go...I'll be okay."You promised before ending the phone call. Your boss straightened his tie, Jason wasn't usually known for being overly caring about his employees but right now he looked worried for you. As did a lot of other people inside of the office,
“Y/N, we need to get you out of here. Follow me,” he said softly, motioning toward a side exit. You looked back at your desk—at the normalcy you had only moments ago—and then at the chaos outside. Your heart pounded as you nodded at your boss.
Your boss led you through a hallway toward the back exit, shielding you from the chaos outside.
"Sarah is going to go outside with a hood up, she'll distract them long enough for you to make it to the car." Your boss explained as he walked with you hurriedly toward the parking lot. A lot of the focus was on the front doors as screams erupted.
When you finally reached your car and made it home you figured all of this mess would be over. That you could hold up inside of the house and forget this whole thing had happened but as you pulled up it was clear that wasn't on the agenda for the night. You froze at the sight in front of you. Your apartment was swarming with people—fans, stalkers, media. They were everywhere. Cameras were shoved in your windows as people scrambled to get the smallest information about you from them.
You couldn’t go home. Your home was overtaken by fans who luckily hadn't noticed your car yet so you started driving and with trembling fingers, you called Chan again.
“I can’t go home,” you told him as you did your best not to cry. There was no way you could drive if you were crying. Chan's silence was deafening. You knew he felt responsible, that he was desperate to fix this, but there was nothing he could do right now.
“I’m getting you a hotel, no one will know okay?” Chan finally said. You could hear him typing on his laptop and you bit down on your lip at the thought of it. You were never going to have your normal life again,
“Stay there tonight. I’ll come to you first thing in the morning, I promise.” You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. You trusted him—he would fix this. But for now, all you could do was hide away, waiting for the storm to pass.
"I love you, Channie." You whispered as you continued to drive aimlessly until he gave you the directions.
"I love you too, I'm going to sort this...I'm not going to let you get dragged down." He promised before sending you all of the details you were going to need.
"I've booked it under Patricia Kennedy, no one will trace it to us," He said as you smiled softly at the thought of using a fake name, like some kind of spy.
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Hours had passed, and even though the hotel room was silent, your mind was anything but. The dark curtains were drawn tight, shutting out the world outside, but it didn’t stop the gnawing anxiety in your chest. You had blocked the door with a chair, even though you knew it was overkill, but after everything that had happened today, you couldn’t help it. The thought of anyone else finding you made your skin crawl.
Your phone was still on DND and didn't dare try to see if you had phone calls from friends. All you knew was that your phone was close to death thanks to it overloading with numbers. You'd managed to private all of your social media accounts and uninstalled them to stop some of the notifications, and you'd tried to call your phone provider to block unknown numbers but there was too much for them to handle.
You sat curled up on the bed, your phone clutched tightly in your hand as you waited for Chan, he had called to tell you he was on his way, but time seemed to stretch, each minute dragging slower than the last. Even in the safety of the hotel, the fear refused to let go.
A knock came at the door, sharp and sudden.
Your heart jumped to your throat, and your grip tightened on the phone as you stared at the door. It was just a knock, but your body froze. What if it wasn’t him? What if someone had followed him here? What if—
“It’s me, baby. It’s Chan.” His voice came through the door, soft but certain.
“Please open the door.” You hesitated, your hand hovering over the door handle. A part of you was still scared, irrational thoughts swirling in your head. You couldn’t help it—the day had been too overwhelming, with too many eyes on you, and too much chaos.
"Yn, I promise, it’s just me. Please,” Chan’s voice was gentle but urgent, trying to calm your panic from the other side. He tapped on the door once again and you stared at the handle.
“I’m here now.” You exhaled shakily and, after a long pause, slowly removed the chair from the door and unlatched the lock. With trembling hands, you cracked the door open, just enough to peek out. The sight of Chan’s concerned face melted away some of your fear. He looked stressed and exhausted, his hair was in all kinds of directions and he looked unkept which wasn't like him at all,
“Hey,” he said softly, offering a small, reassuring smile. You stepped back and let him in, closing the door quickly behind him. As soon as the door shut, Chan’s arms were around you, pulling you into a tight, protective embrace. His familiar warmth was the only thing grounding you, and for the first time since the day started, you felt a tiny bit of safety. You hid your head in his neck and did your best not to cry, you didn't want to make him feel any worse than he already did about all of this,
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled against his chest, your voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t know if it was you.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. He stroked your back softly, he would have done the same thing if he was in your position.
“You’ve had a terrible day. I’m just glad I’m here now.” He gently pulled back to take a look around the room. His eyes landed on the tightly shut curtains, the chair you had used to block the door. His brow furrowed slightly, and you could see the worry etched in his face.
“You blocked the door?” he asked softly, though there was no judgment in his tone, only concern. You nodded, feeling a little embarrassed, you scratched the back of your neck as you glanced over at him.
“I didn’t want anyone getting in.” Chan reached out, pulling you back into his arms as if he could protect you from everything. There were already plans in motion to get a guard for you, there were some stationed all over the hotel as he stood there.
“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he whispered. “No one’s getting in here but me. I promise.” You leaned into him, letting out a shaky breath.
“I feel like I can’t breathe. Every time I think it’s over, it’s just... not.”
“I know,” Chan said softly, rubbing gentle circles on your back. The two of you had hidden for four years, and this was something you'd talked about but nothing could have prepared you for it,
“But we’re going to fix this. I’m going to fix this. You shouldn’t have to go through this, not because of me.” You pulled back slightly to look up at him, his expression filled with guilt. You shook your head at him and touched his face softly, running your thumb along his skin.
“It’s not your fault, Chan.” He shook his head, his jaw clenched. He'd already fought with Changbin about it and apologised for it, he knew that accidents happened but he'd been stressed and took it out on the younger member.
“I should’ve been more careful. We’ve kept this a secret for so long, and now—”
“No,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “This isn’t on you. It’s just... an accident. It’s no one’s fault.” Chan’s eyes softened as he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.
“I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right,” he promised.
“I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll protect you, okay? I’ll keep you safe.” Tears welled in your eyes, but they weren’t from fear anymore. You knew Chan would do everything within his power - and more - to protect you, you had no doubt in your mind.
“I know,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. “I trust you.” Chan pulled you into another hug, holding you close as if he could shield you from the world outside. And for now, in the quiet of the hotel room, that was enough.
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Days passed after the chaos of the leak, and things slowly began to settle. The initial frenzy had been overwhelming, but JYP Entertainment had stepped in, issuing a statement about the mistake, and calling for fans to respect your privacy. The company took legal action against those who crossed the line, and while the attention hadn’t completely disappeared, it was manageable now. Your numbers had been changed and you'd managed to delete most of the followers who were fans in your social media accounts.
Chan had kept his promise. He had stayed with you every step of the way, ensuring you were never left alone to deal with the aftermath. You spent a few days holed up in the hotel together, the world feeling small but safe as long as you were by his side. You mostly lived in his shirts and off room-serive which had been more fun than you'd been expecting.
One morning, you both sat on the hotel room bed, the soft glow of sunlight peeking through the curtains. The two of you were quiet, sipping on coffee, the stillness a welcome change from the chaos you had endured. It almost felt normal again.
“Are you ready to go home today?” Chan asked, glancing at you with a hopeful smile. You nodded, taking a deep breath, you'd been wanting to stay longer but only because you were enjoying being so close to him.
“Yeah. I think I’m ready.”
“Good,” he said softly.
“I know it's been a lot, but we made it through. I knew we would...” He ran his fingers over your skin softly and you smiled. You looked at him, really looked at him—his face filled with determination and love, he looked better than he did when he first arrived here. Even though things had spiralled out of control, you couldn’t imagine going through this without him by your side.
“I couldn’t have done this without you,” you admitted. “You kept me sane.” Chan smiled warmly, setting his coffee cup down before reaching out to take your hand in his.
“We’re in this together, always. Nothing’s going to change that.” You squeezed his hand, feeling the truth in his words. After everything, you knew your relationship was stronger than ever. The world might have learned your secret, but it hadn’t broken what you had—it had only made you closer.
As the two of you stood, getting ready to head back home, Chan paused and turned to face you.
"I love you...okay? Them knowing, changes nothing. I promise you that we'll get into a routine," He told you as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you softly.
"I know baby, I love you too." You wrapped your arms around him and he backed you up toward the bed again making you giggle.
"Maybe we can spend a few more hours locked away though," He whispered in your ear.
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saturnznct · 6 months ago
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he holds the baby for the first time | enhypen x reader
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➸ note; hehe my first fic back!! very much in my engene era again so expect more enha fics! hope I'm not too rusty
➸ word count: 2159 words
➸ sangyoon, sam, ella, eunhye, yeeun & serin; newborn
➸ warning(s): bloody imagery(?), breastfeeding, premature birth, c-section, mentions of breathing tube
enhypen masterlist
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
heeseung
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So much could happen in the span of a year.
Heeseung couldn’t believe that in just one year, you had gotten married, found out you were pregnant on the same day, been through a whole pregnancy, and now your son was finally here.
‘He is the cutest baby there has ever been,’ Heeseung declares once he’s all cleaned up and laying on your chest.
‘You say that now, wait until we get home and he keeps us up all night long.’
‘Doesn’t make him any less gorgeous,’ Heeseung grins, ‘just like his mummy/mommy.’
‘I don’t know if that’s the best word to describe mummy/mommy right now.’
‘No, I think it’s the perfect word. You have never been more beautiful to me than you are right now.’
‘You’re cute,’ you roll your eyes, ‘I hope he looks like you.’
Heeseung turns his head to kiss the side of yours, and in that moment you yawn.
‘Oh, I think mummy/mommy needs a nap Yoonie.’
‘Hmm, I agree… Will you be okay on your own?’
‘Don’t worry about us,’ Heeseung gives you a reassuring smile, ‘you need to focus on getting rest. We’ll be just fine.’
Heeseung ever so gently lifts Sangyoon from your chest, cradling him in his arms.
‘Wake me, if he needs me,’ you mumble sleepily, turning onto your side and closing your eyes.
Heeseung settles on the couch beside the window, laying across it.
He briefly scrolls through his phone, reading notifications and answering a couple of text messages but finds he cannot tear his eyes away from Sangyoon for too long.
After a few minutes, you’re clearly asleep, face relaxed and body rising up and down rhythmically. 
Heeseung whispers to his baby boy. 
‘You’re perfect, aren’t you? I didn’t expect for you to happen so soon but.. I’m so grateful you came along when you did.’ 
Heeseung knows that you can’t really tell a baby’s features for a while, but he swears Sangyoon has his nose. His chest fills with pride.
‘I love you so so much Sangyoon-ie.’
jay
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Jay had not stopped crying since the moment his son was born.
The moment the tears would begin to subside, he caught a glimpse of his baby boy laying in your arms and his eyes would become glossy again. If you’d told Jay nine months ago that this is where he would be now, he wouldn’t have believed it. But starting his family with you felt so right, like the most natural thing in the world.
‘He looks exactly like you,’ you mumble tiredly, gently rubbing Sam’s head with your thumb.
‘You think so?’
‘Oh yeah. Daddy’s twin.’
Jay’s heart leaps at the title. He studies Sam’s face for a few moments.
‘You know what, I think you’re right,’ he says, ‘Your genes stood no chance against mine.’
‘M’not complaining.’
‘Good genes all around.’
By now, Sam was a couple of hours old, and you had been doing skin-to-skin with him for some time. Coupled with the exhaustion of the birth, your eyes are growing heavy.
‘God, you must be exhausted,’ Jay notices your worn out demeanour.
‘It’s been a long day,’ you chuckle.
‘C-can I take him from you?’
‘You don’t have to ask, you’re his daddy.’
You sit up a bit, allowing Jay to take Sam from you more easily.
‘Hi baby boy,’ Sam fusses a little bit, ‘it’s okay, I’m your daddy.’
Sam’s fussing quickly turns into weak wails, and Jay’s expression drops.
‘No, no, don’t cry, please- Y/N, I think he wants to be with you-‘
‘Jay. You’re fine, just keep going. He’ll calm down.’
He looks totally out of his depth, but perseveres, continuing to shush and comfort the baby.
‘You’re okay, you’re safe, it’s just me, your mummy/mommy is still here, see?’
Sam eventually settles, cries reduced to gurgles.
Sensing his small victory, Jay is beaming, more than you’ve ever seen before. Again he can’t help but think about how natural but so foreign it feels to have his own baby in his arms.
Jay awkwardly rocks Sam, ‘I can’t believe you’re really ours, my son…’
jake
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Through his career, Jake has been able to travel the world and experience so many unique things, but nothing will ever come close to watching you give birth to Ella.
You had planned for a home birth, feeling as though your home would be a comforting setting and make the process easier. You’d pictured maybe giving birth on your bed or maybe even the couch or a beanbag (not considering the mess) so it was a bit of a surprise that you wound up in your large bathtub. But, you had insisted, at the time.
Jake had sat in with you, and with the help of the midwife, had delivered Ella himself. He’d held her for just a moment, holding her under her arms as he transferred her to you, but even just that one touch had him longing for another. Jake knew how important it was for Ella to get to know yours first, so he pushed his feelings aside.
The both of you were so mesmerised by her big shiny brown eyes and little sounds that you hardly noticed the fallout from the birth pooling below you. 
‘We should really give you a hose down, Y/N,’ your midwife gestures to your separate shower, ‘are your pyjamas still laid out in the bedroom? You can get into bed afterwards.’
She leaves to grab your change of clothes while you and Jake make the awkward first handover.
Jake wanders into her nursery while you step into the shower with the midwife’s help. Ella’s hands peek out from the blanket, grasping at the air. 
‘Oh wow, hi baby,’ he whispers, holding out his finger and fitting it under Ella’s curled little hand.
Ella gurgles and spit pools between her lips, which Jake gently wiped away with the blanket. 
’You’re so tiny, almost feel like you’re gonna break.’
Jake slowly rubs her hand with his thumb.
‘Let’s put some clothes on you.’
Jake lays her down on the changing table, choosing a floral print onesie and putting it on her, just like how he learned in your antenatal classes.
He gently lifts Ella up again, taking her into your bedroom to wait for you. 
He tentatively lifts her tiny head to his lips, pressing a kiss to her forehead.‘You’re my beautiful girl, aren’t you? Gonna do my absolute best by you. I promise I’ll look after you, always.’
sunghoon
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This was absolutely the greatest day of Sunghoon’s life.
His beautiful baby girl had come into the world safely, and she was everything he’d hoped for and more.
He couldn’t look at her for more than a few moments without tearing up or going on a tangent about how much he loves her and you.
He secretly (but not so secretly) had hoped for at least one daughter, and when you found out Eunhye was in fact a girl, he was ecstatic.
The moment she was born and he saw her for the first time, it was as though his heart had doubled in size, as if it had to grow bigger to make room for just how much love he had for his daughter.
Eunhye was barely two hours old when she fed for the first time. The midwife helped you with the actual feeding, getting Eunhye to latch on properly, while Sunghoon supported you more with encouraging words and helping you drink water while your hands were occupied.
Otherwise, Sunghoon felt a little unhelpful, standing at a distance and just watching. 
It was blatantly so difficult for you. The feeding hurt, your entire body ached and you felt pain all over, and he was essentially powerless.
‘She’s eating well,’ the midwife commented, ‘she’s got a good appetite.’
‘Wonder where she gets that..’
‘It’ll get easier, Y/N. You’ll both get used to it and it will hurt less and less.’
Eventually, Eunhye tries to pull away, signalling she’s done. The midwife turns to Sunghoon.
‘Dad? You want to burp the little one?’
‘Hoon?’
Sunghoon is taken aback, suddenly uneasy.
‘Is it okay?’ He asks you.
‘Hoon, you should take her. Let her get to know her daddy.’
‘Okay, Sunghoon, if you just lift her from under her arms- that’s it- rest her on your shoulder, one hand here, the other on her back.’
Eunhye feels tiny in his arms. The midwife instructs him on how to properly burp her.
‘This won’t hurt her, will it?’ 
’No,’ the midwife chuckles, ‘you’d know if it was.’
Sunghoon’s head is craned around to look at her face, unable to look away.
’You’re doing really well, Sunghoon,’ the midwife praises, and a few minutes later, Eunhye burps, then whines.
‘You’re okay, you’re okay,’ Sunghoon pouts, ‘you’re just amazing, aren’t you?’
sunoo
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‘She’s an angel,’ Sunoo is just radiating pure happiness and pride. He practically has hearts in his eyes looking at your newborn daughter, who was cooing in your arms.
’She’s perfect,’ you agree.
Your baby girl’s eyes are only half open, but she’s clearly studying the two of you. 
‘Hi, baby,’ Sunoo says softly, ‘we love you so much.’
‘We really do,’ you smile.
Sunoo leans across to kiss her head, and when he pulls away he rests his hand on her head.
’Her head is so small, fits in my hand.’
‘Didn’t feel very small when it was coming out of me,’ you remark pointedly, and he winces a little.
‘Of course, I didn’t think of that. You did incredibly.’
You could see how eager Sunoo was to be close to her, he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. 
‘Do you want to hold her?’ 
Sunoo’s eyes gloss over.
‘Is that even a question?’
‘So no then?’ 
’Shut up, give her here.’
She doesn’t fuss in the slightest when being passed to Sunoo. 
‘Oh hello my pretty angel,’ Sunoo handles her expertly, like he was made to be a dad.
He lifts her up to kiss her forehead, and lingers there for a moment. 
’She smells so good,’ Sunoo chuckles, ‘like a proper baby.’
‘She is a proper baby,’ you point out.
‘You know what I mean. I almost don’t believe she’s real. Don’t believe we really made her. She’s so pretty, it’s almost like I’m holding a doll.’
Sunoo rocks her while shifting his weight between his feet, eyes never leaving her face, warm smile never leaving his.
‘Yeeun,’ Sunoo says suddenly.
‘Huh?’
‘She looks like a Yeeun.’
You mull it over for a few moments.
‘I like it,’ you nod, ‘Yeeun it is.’
Sunoo somehow brightens even more, so proud that he’d named his daughter.
‘You’re my beautiful girl, Yeeun-ah,’ he repeatedly kisses her head, ‘I promise I’ll love and protect you always.’
jungwon
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You were thirty-four weeks when your waters broke, and Serin was rushed into the world. 
She was tiny, barely five pounds. 
Jungwon held your hand throughout the whole surgery, and was reluctant to leave your side when Serin was taken away and you were being stitched up.
Serin was quickly referred to special care, and you were taken along with her. 
‘How does she look?’ you ask Jungwon, while your baby girl is getting hooked up to the equipment.
‘She’s beautiful,’ Jungwon holds your hand again, squeezing it gently, ‘so beautiful. She’ll be okay.’
For hours, you feel hopeless. You feel so empty, and you ache to hold and be with your daughter. 
Jungwon convinces you to get some sleep, which after the long day you’ve had, it finds you easier than you thought.
You wake up to Jungwon shaking you gently.
‘Baby, look who it is.’
He helps you sit up while Serin is wheeled into the room in a crib. 
She has patches on her body, to monitor her heart rate and breathing, and a breathing tube in her nose. 
‘She’s very healthy Mama,’ the midwife says, ‘just needs some help with those lungs.’
‘Can- can we hold her?’ you ask weakly.
‘You can,’ the midwife smiles.
You sob when she’s finally placed on your chest and you get to do skin to skin. 
‘Look at her,’ you cry, and when you look at Jungwon, he’s wiping away tears.
He opens his mouth to speak, but chokes out a sob of his own.
An hour flies by and the midwife returns, both to check on you and the baby. You feed Serin for the first time.
‘Daddy, would you like a hold?’ The midwife asks, and Jungwon’s heart skips a beat.
‘Can I?’ he asks you, and you nod.
The midwife helps, keeping the wires out of the way. 
The moment Serin is placed in his arms, Jungwon’s entire world changes.
‘Hey Serin,’ Jungwon says softly, ‘hi sweetheart. You’re our strong girl, aren’t you?’
Tears roll down your cheeks, hormones and stress of the day catching up to you.
‘Our fighter girl,’ he muses, ‘you are so so loved.’
1K notes · View notes
reyalvr · 7 months ago
Text
RUMORS!
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I KNOW YOU HEARD THE RUMORS, YOU MUST GET OVER TO IT RIGHT AWAY!
synopsis ┊ ken sato- a remarkable name in the world of modern baseball- has graced japan with not only his presence, but also his skills as a key player for the yomiuri giants. from press conferences to media endorsements, it’s clear that his stardom has only intensified from his recent move. but what happens when you, his personal assistant, are left to deal with some more… serious rumors?
genre ┊ chaotic fluff, oneshot
pairing ┊ ken sato x gn-PA!reader
warnings ┊ mild cursing, ami is not the reporter depicted!
word count ┊ 2.2k
author’s note ┊ hiya! i recently found time to watch ultraman: rising and this fic was just writing itself in my head hehe… happy reading! (p.s. yes… the title was inspired from the new minions song)
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THREE MONTHS. That was how long you had known baseball’s darling, Ken Sato. And in those three months, you had undergone every single PR nightmare you had ever conjured up in your mind prior to pursuing your career. You had worked with celebrities before- doing God knows what ‘til the waking hour on their every beck and call. But Ken, despite presenting himself as a laid back man, was an entirely new… experience. 
From the Kaiju attack at his first game under the Giants, to the continuous streak of losses throughout the first half of the season, it seemed like the Gods were against you as you did your damndest to handle the damage control on his reputation. His ego didn’t aid you either- having to spin and twist multiple incidents to get reporters and media outlets off his back. You weren’t exactly sure what it was that kept you from quitting all in all, but the longer you worked under him, the thinner your thread seemed to snap. 
You huffed an annoyed sigh into the cold air, picking up the pace as you jogged along the designated path by the bay. Your days off were scarce- not because of Ken’s schedule, but because of your own decision to be up to date with his spontaneous actions. Despite the rarity of solitude, you always managed to savor your time off. The music played at a mellow volume in your ears, the morning sun starting to warm your surroundings as you watched its rays splash hues of orange across the sky. 
Your felt your watch beep against your skin, signaling the end of your morning run. Pausing by the railing, you leaned against the old metal bars as you checked your stats. You swiped absent-mindedly on the screen of your smartwatch, scrolling once you were sure that everything was in order. There was one thing that caught your eye, though, as you noticed the red notification bubbles on your message app were continuously going up. It was odd, yes, but not odd enough to be out of the ordinary- at least in your line of work. 
Deciding not to bombard yourself this early in the morning, you opted to give everything a once-over once you made it back to your apartment. Whatever it was could wait- you were on your time and your pace. Besides, it couldn’t be that bad. Could it now?
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IT DEFINITELY COULD, AND IT DEFINITELY WAS. You pushed on the gas as hard as you could, your tongue poking into your cheek as you continued to drive to Ken’s house. Of all the days that he decided to make perhaps the stupidest decision in his career, he chose today. Doing your best not to see red, you dialed his phone once more. The ringing played throughout your car as you maneuvered through the roads, and you swore for what felt like the umpteenth time that morning when you heard the tone of his voice message. 
Hey, it’s Ken. Leave a message after the beep, and I’ll be more than happy to ignore it! Said his usual arrogant tone playing before the generic beep. You gripped the steering wheel harder, huffing angrily as you sharply turned a corner. 
“Kenji Sato answer your goddamn phone right now! I’m ten minutes away from your house and when I get there, I better not be greeted with your supposed secret love child!” You yelled, pushing the red button once you finished your message. 
Ah yes. The centerpoint of your current rage: Ken’s “leaked” one-on-one with a reporter about juggling baseball and his homelife. Someone on Ken’s staff had sent the article in your shared work group chat, and nearly all of his personnel had directly messaged you about the issue. It was inevitable for celebrities to get into a scandal once or twice, but one on this level would not be an easy fit to overcome. 
You don’t exactly remember what you were doing prior to receiving the messages- all you knew was that you needed to get to Ken as soon as possible. Of course it just be a misunderstanding, hell it could even be a hoax! But knowing Kenji, anything could be possible. You neared the hill of his private property, driving past the gates as the security recognized your car.
You parked haphazardly at the front of his house, your feet stomping into the gravel as you made your way to his front door. His estate had numerous smart tech installed throughout his home, so you knew that each and every one of your moves were either being recorded or observed. You crouched slightly to be in frame with the doorbell’s camera, your anger slightly toned down.
“Ken.” You paused to narrow your eyes. “Open the door.”
For the next minute and a half you swore you could hear some sort of clash and bang from inside the house. You kept your arms crossed, raising your eyebrow from time to time when the clashing seemed to grow louder. After what felt like an eternity, the front door opened slightly. Not all the way, but just enough for Ken to peek out and smile at you- albeit nervously cocky.
The nerve.
“Hey, [Y/N]! What uh- what are you doing here?” He manages to cough out, roughly combing a hand through his hair. “I thought it was your day o-”
“Save it.” You reply, your gaze sharp enough to slice through whatever excuse he had at the ready. You held up your phone then, the article’s headline prominently bolded:
OUT OF LEFT FIELD: Ken Sato Strikeout? Nope! Love Child Home Run!
Ken’s head bent down to get a good look at what you were showing him, and you watched carefully as his eyes scanned over the article not once, but thrice. You let out an impatient hum, your mouth forming into a slight scowl as the both of you stood in silence. With your head tilted to the side, you dropped your hand back down and crossed your arms. 
“Are you just gonna stand there or are you going to start explaining to me what the hell you’ve been up to these past twenty-four hours?” You question, moving past him as you enter the house. 
Usually you would wait for Ken to let you in, but stalling would only hinder you from coming up with what to do next. The article had already been up for two hours, and you halted any statements from being made before you could get an explanation from Ken himself. He quickly tailed after you, nearly stumbling over himself as you stopped at his kitchen. You gripped the marble countertop, closing your eyes momentarily before you turned to face him once more. 
“[Y/N] I swear, it’s not as bad as you think it is,” Ken says as he tries to add reassurance to his tone, but it doesn't mask the lingering tinge of falsehood.
“Oh, really?” You say, your eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Because in the span of two hours I have had thirty news outlets blowing up my- your management team for a response!”
He opens his mouth to speak, but stops again midway when you continue. “The headline I showed you was local. I want you to tell me exactly how and why you were on the phone with a reporter talking about your private life at God knows what hour. Now.”
You can see him swallow, licking his lips after as he tries to form the right words. He blinks a bit before pinching the bridge of his nose, tilting his head up as he lets out a deep sigh. When he opens his eyes he’s still greeted with your restive stance. Still he remains slightly hesitant, but he does end up recalling the remnants of his conversation with a reporter he had met at one of the parties he attended. Ken goes on to explain that he had only seeked out advice. His schedule, his personal life- he needed an outlet. You can feel yourself slowly untense, though you continued to listen to make sure all your facts were straight.
When he finishes his retelling, he puts his hands up slightly- as if he were trying to put you at ease. “I swear, that’s all I said. I thought,” He pauses, his brows furrowing in a way that made you slightly mad at yourself from blowing up at him. “I just thought I could have a normal conversation for once. ‘Guess I was wrong.”
The warm lights cast a sombre shadow on his features, and from this angle you notice the worn out expression painted on his face. The bags under his eyes are darker than usual, not to mention the fading bruises from his latest altercation with one of players from his opposing team. In front of you was not Ken Sato, this was Kenji; Simply a man who was thrust into a new life without the needed support. 
“Well, no shit.” You say, finally breaking the silence, you fix your posture against the counter as you tone down the anger in your voice. “Jesus Ken, sometimes I wonder how you were able to maintain your career before me.”
At that he lets out a soft laugh, his dull expression slowly fading. “Yeah, I do too.”
You give him a puzzled look before you reply. “Are you mocking me?”
“No! No, I was being serious.” He says, his smile dropping slightly. “I know I haven’t been an easy task, hell you’re here on your day off for Christ’s sake.” 
You hum at his words, narrowing your eyes slightly as you push yourself off the counter with another awkward cough. In all ninety days of working under Ken Sato, never has the man gotten this sentimental with you. You decide not to linger on his words, your attention going back to the problem at hand. 
“Right, well,” You sigh, whipping your phone out in the process. “I need you to give me the name of that reporter. I’ll get the legal team to draft an NDA breach.” 
He furrowed his eyebrows then, looking at you as if you’d said something odd. “I didn’t make him sign an NDA though?”
You only give him a smile, a hint of confidence plastered on your lips. “I know. I have my ways, Sato.”
“You’re a pretty good assistant, then.” He replies, the corners of his lips going up slightly as he keeps his arms crossed. 
“I’m an excellent assistant.” You correct without looking at him, your fingers tapping away at your phone as you prepare the next steps of your plan. 
Ken can only chuckle in agreement, tapping his fingers on his forearm as he awaits your next set of instructions. Within the next twenty minutes you’ve sent out the necessary details to your team, your legs kicking as you sit on one of his bar stools. He’s stood across from you, leaning on the countertop looking at you intently as you explain the response plan. 
“And lastly,” You say, sliding out your hand. “Give me your phone.”
 His head tilts, the same confused expression on his face. “Why?”
“Just do it,” Your hand curls, motioning for him to hand his phone over. “No, I am not installing a monitor.” You add when you see his mouth open to interrogate you. 
He slides his phone over with a defeated huff, and you open a new contact page on his contacts. “If you need to talk, do it with someone who won’t leak your shit.” You say, sliding back his phone when all your details are settled.
“I have your number though, don’t I?” Ken questions, looking over at the number you inputted. 
“You had my work number. Now you have my personal phone.” You point your finger at him before continuing. “Don’t abuse it. I’m still your assistant.” “Wasn’t gonna, sweetheart.” He says, an amused smirk mixing in with his addled look. 
You quirk your eyebrow at the nickname. You shake your head, hopping off the stool as you make your way back to the front door. Ken follows behind you, hands in his pockets as he watches you leave. Before you can open the door though, you look back at him one last time. 
“I mean it, Ken.” You say, making sure it gets through his head. “You have a problem, tell me. You need a solution, you tell me.”
“I know, I know.” He gives you a tight-lipped smile, nodding towards the door. “Go enjoy the rest of your day off before I start thinking you care about me.”
“I do. It’s my job to care about you, Ken.” You reply, giving him a look before you open the door. “Whether you like it or not, I’m your lifeline. At least until you get rid of me, which won’t be happening for a good while.”
“Oh yeah?” He jests, his cocky demeanor slowly coming back. “‘You so sure about that?”
“Extremely sure.” You’re standing outside now, slowly walking backwards. “Twenty minutes ago people thought you had a secret love child and that you were a terrible father. Now you’re back on the face of KFC as baseball’s darling.” 
He’s taken aback. Was he actually booted off of his collaborations? He hastily checked his phone, scrolling through all his platforms. To his surprise, he was greeted with… his usual feeds. No sight of the article, no lingering gossip. His ads had doubled, his partnerships boosted on the products he had endorsed. He looked back up to say something, but you had already started your car. You backed out his estate, giving him a smile through the tinted glass of your windshield. 
He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. You were right. But who was he kidding?
You always were.
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