#I just know if I start talking about them I won’t stop. I’ll never ever shut up. LMAO
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#YEAH I’D BETTER BE!! I’D BETTER BE BITCH#Shima speaks#Me in the Sanlu tag: Oh hey that’s me! Look it’s me!!!#JDNDNFNDN#I have uhhhh a Lot of thoughts about them at all times#Which I should PROBABLY share here tbh.#I just know if I start talking about them I won’t stop. I’ll never ever shut up. LMAO
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One of my brothers is moving away to college today + I have to skip therapy, so it’s a lot of… a lot. a lot.
#he was just a baby! he was just a little kid I carried around and took care of!#no nope. not gonna get into it right now. I WILL cry. it’s not even 6am and I do not need that right now#and I don’t really know if therapy today would really help#if I got into it I’d just start crying in front of this nice dude for an hour#though yeah… might be nice to.. I dunno… just talk about it.#I am always simultaneously ‘therapy is good’ and ‘what’s the point in talking about it?’#so maybe I do need that person that’s like ‘this is your time. just fucking talk.’#but also right now it’s like… talking about it won’t take me back to when my brother was little and far off from leaving#blegh…#whatever. anyway. it’s gonna be a sad day. I’m gonna cry A LOT. I’m gonna be alone in this apartment and just sooooobbbbbbing#and then keep this inside for another week before I can go to therapy and talk about this bc god forbid I talk to a family member about it#ok now it’s 6am. I think he’s leaving in about 4 hours. it’s cool. it’ll be cool. 😎 I’ll just miss my bro so dang much#but maybe I’ll walk down to the dollar store and stock up on snacks and I’ll get blasted and fatter and try to stay positive#uggghhh#I’m too emotional#time just keeps moving for us all. to my dismay.#’time is the fire in which we burn’#you can ignore this#I don’t think I’ll ever have kids. I’ll never have kids. and being there. with him. with my brothers. that was the closest I’ll ever get.#and it’s over… so… 🤷🏻♂️… it’s just done… they’re grown. and I’m still here. I don’t know what else to say…#but that’s life. they’re doing their thing. I’m happy for them and I want them to be happy too. I’m just a big crybaby#IAN!… stop typing!#just making myself sad at this point#it’s fine. it’s fine. I’m fine. I’m cool. everything’s… cool 😎#this isn’t important#text
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Unfortunately relatable. I grew up in the church and have a lot of Christian trauma from that. I show up for special occasions for my parents… sometimes. But it’s uncomfortable from the moment I step through the door. Bigoted pastor, the self-righteousness disguising the prejudice, the political comments from the altar. Shots at young people left right and center as if the hell on earth wasn’t caused by the same older generation 90% of the congregation belongs to..
I miss being young in the choir and the youth groups and not struggling with it. It’s wild to look back at the younger version of me who was unshakeable in his faith and honestly just saddening.
I was texting my sister today about it and she said
“I 100% think ALL of us have a ton of religious trauma and everyone else in the family just doesn’t realize it cause they’re still drinking the kool-aid.”
I ran out of tag room and didn’t want to delete any 😭 seriously not lying I could write a book about all my thoughts and experiences
#I relate to all of this so much#and it’s so sad how many people truly have religious trauma#I still find myself lucky and privileged cause I know there are stories MUCH worse than mine#it’s really hard cause my parents still think I’m a Christian#honestly at this point I have no clue what i am#even if I end up still being a Christian that doesn’t help or heal all of the years of church trauma#but the hard part is still acting the part for my parents#growing up I always tried to fit into the good Christian girl mold#cause I know that’s what my parents wanted and I didn’t want to disappoint them#but once I started smoking weed and they found out? it went all downhill from there#their perfect angel fell from heaven#and I feel like ever since I haven’t been really their daughter…. I’ve just been living on the outside looking in to everything#it hurts looking back at all the years I spent brainwashed into believing that was the ONLY faith#it genuinely makes me sick to my stomach thinking about the fact that I went to a pro life rally#the thing I was talking to my sister about was how mental health was never talked about in the church#when I started dealing with it and went to my parents or the pastors or any adult really and told them what I was dealing with#wanna know what the first thing they would ALWAYS say? well have you prayed about it? the way they treated mental illness was that it was#YOUR fault cause God is punishing you for something…. that you need to pray or go to church so then God will eventually take it away#and the thing is I don’t necessarily blame my parents (which kinda sucks cause I want to blame someone)#but honestly it’s just the environment they grew up in too… like I’m 99% sure my dad has dealt with depression his entire life#but won’t get diagnosed or anything cause they always believe faith has something to do with it#which makes me incredibly sad cause I just think about how much my dad has suffered and how he didn’t need to#^^ I was typing this out when I was late to my family gathering hahaha but then I think my sister called or something so I had to stop#sorry this post is all over the place - I swear I could write a book about religious trauma#yesterday went ok surprisingly but today? TODAY is going to be so much worse#sure I’ll make a post about it later but I guessssss I should go to bed now? it’s 2am and I have to get up at 5:45 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃#and I have a fuuuuull day of fun Christian festivities while I’m dealing with all of this bottled up and unresolved crap from my past#please don’t get me wrong I love my parents and like I said I don’t blame them - they did their best#it just really sucks wondering what my life would have been like if I didn’t grow up in the church or in a super religious family#I wonder if when I told my parents I was depressed if they would have instantly brought me in to get help
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TODAY’S EPISODE!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Koku you amethyst time!!!!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 And it’s apparently the moment that the show’s staff have been waiting for just as eagerly as I have because it’s the best looking episode not just of this season but maybe… of the entire series since its inception…????!! I genuinely can’t think of another one that has Multiple dedicated cuts of detailed action in a row like the sequence from kyou kai snapping on the mountain road to the encounter between shin and kyou kai + rai do and koku’ou at kan ki’s camp, and certainly not one anywhere near as good looking, it’s such a treat…!!!!!!!
[quick aside, before I forget I want to add that rai do is addressing shin as ‘obocchan’ in the last cap above :DDD truly the gift that keeps on giving]
And anyways that’s without even touching on how good this sequence would be regardless of looks because it’s still Amethyst Plot time 🥰❤️💞❣️💓💍💘 Bi hei giving in to peer pressure in just the kind of moment of weakness that you can’t actually detest him for (of course you would want to believe him when he tells you it wasn’t a civilian village..), kyou kai absolutely fucking snapping, the cool head ten maintains between trying to hold shin back and immediately pivoting the hi shin unit to a defensive formation for the real possibility that shin and kyou kai actually start pvp against the kan ki army , and of course shin and kan ki putting their cards on the table :)))))
^ my favourite panel of him ever now animated!!!!!!! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰 and my favourite moment in the exchange between them, shin’s is still yet to come (I think all his talk in this week’s episode about kan ki not being equipped to handle sei’s dream of unification *is* sweet and sincere but it’s also dumb and that’s why kan ki is able to refute him so easily; the point that really matters and where his moral stance becomes unassailable, for me, is in the fact that it’s all for hyou’s sake. there’s no counter-argument about what you may or may not be turning a blind eye to there, it’s the mandate made absolute and incorruptible instead…) but this is maybe my favourite line of kan ki’s ever… he’s just following through on the promise he made you; these are the rules you agreed to play by! 🥰🥰🥰 i don’t even need to go into the premium emycore aspect of ever part of this sequence lol, the indulgence of it all…
also I was pleasantly surprised to see that they preserved just about all all of the gore from the scenes covered in this week’s scenes; there are some minor changes (the zhao soldiers kan ki is having the saki clan interrogate early in the episode are shown a little less mutilated than they are in the manga, and there’s no nudity) but they really are minor which bodes pretty well for the saki clan artworks coming up soon :~) I think there’s a chance we might not see that scene until the week after next since next episode’s primary focus will of course be Bi Hei And The Hi Shin Unit as per the ep title, but i’m so curious to see what they do with it since the anime has *always* omitted saki and saki-adjacent activities in the past. but I won’t get ahead of myself when we still have all of bi hei’s crisis to savour first :D
also, in shin’s speech telling kan ki off, we got a little additional visual of ran dou from sanyou campaign! always on the lookout for scenes from s1-2 appearing in flashback in the current art style <3
and i really had forgotten what he looked like lol even though this is another scene I absolutely adore for similar reasons to the one in the camp in this episode - though there’s no mou ten around to step in and defend shin this time, of course… :)
#not to go to bat for a really worthless minor character for a second here but ran dou looks cool actually#like really good-looking in the context of the type of guy he is anyways. sorry lol#I reread a little sanyou looking for his original scene but I can’t start talking about that arc proper now or I’ll never stop lol. anyways#hey if this season is still 2 cours we’re only a few weeks away from seeing mou ten in his winter outfit!!!!!!#the prettiest any character has ever looked in the entire series I love him so much 🥰#kingdomposting#txt#really really can’t overstate how good this episode looked we are SO LUCKY#also so many kan ki lines that i couldnt cap for this post for the sake of Appearances but are just. highest concentration premium emy#the scene where he’s sitting on the table at the camp!!!!!!!! agghfhgbgbf#you know how it is with mountain bandits…#also unrelated but. I won’t hold ten’s stupid comments about prisoners of war in coalition arc against her here#but obviously the events here Did make me think about them and they Are still stupid lol
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FOREVER AND ALWAYS | MV1
an: military au go reeeee, my friend is currently talking to a marine so it makes this funnier, anyway this is a request and be prepared for how much im about to post, im posting all my wips so i can start a new
wc: 3.8k
THE LAST MORNING MAX spent in town was unseasonably warm for late September, but she still wore his old hoodie over her dress. It swallowed her, the cuffs rolled up clumsily so her fingers could peek through. Max liked seeing her in it; she made it look softer than it ever felt to him. They sat on the hood of his truck by the edge of the lake, the same spot they always went to when something big needed to be said.
“You’ll write, right?” she asked, her voice steadier than the fingers twisting the hem of his sleeve.
Max didn’t answer right away. He hated promises. He hated making them and breaking them even more. But he wasn’t going to break this one. “Every day,” he said, his voice a little rough. “I mean it, okay? You’ll be sick of me by Christmas.”
“I could never,” she said, and the words felt too small for how much she meant them.
The sun caught in her hair, and Max felt the ache of leaving settle deeper in his chest. He should’ve been relieved—one last night in this town, in that house—but all he could think about was how hard it was going to be to drive away from her in the morning.
“I’ll write back every time,” she promised, her eyes locked on his like she could hold him here through sheer willpower. “Don’t you dare stop.”
“I won’t.”
It was the closest thing to forever they’d ever said to each other, and Max wanted to believe it could be.
He didn’t sleep much that night. Max stayed parked outside her house long after walking her to the door, watching the glow of her bedroom light until it finally went dark. He told himself he’d leave when she was asleep, but his hands stayed glued to the steering wheel, his heart beating louder than the crickets outside.
Morning came too fast. He stood on her porch in his pressed uniform, his duffel slung over his shoulder. Her dad answered the door, grunted something about “too early for this,” and disappeared back into the house. Max heard her footsteps upstairs, quick and light, and then there she was, rushing down to meet him, already wearing a smile he didn’t deserve.
“You’re really doing it,” she said, her voice tight with something caught between pride and fear.
“I am.”
She stepped closer, her fingers brushing the crisp fabric of his sleeve. “You’re going to be okay, right?”
Max didn’t know how to answer that. He could handle the yelling, the rules, the miles of running. But leaving her? That felt like the first real battle.
“You’re the toughest guy I know,” she added softly, filling the silence.
“Tough’s not the same as okay,” he admitted, his voice low.
“Then I’ll be okay for both of us.”
The words hit him harder than he expected, wrapping around something fragile in his chest. He leaned down and kissed her, quick and desperate, like he could steal a little of her steadiness to take with him.
When they finally broke apart, she laughed softly, her forehead still resting against his. “You’re coming back, Max. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t,” he said.
He didn’t know if it was a promise or a prayer.
The bus station was quiet that early in the morning, just a couple of strangers milling around with their heads down and coffee in hand. Max stood off to the side with her, his duffel at his feet and his hands shoved deep into his pockets to keep from grabbing hers. She said she couldn’t come, but watching him walk back to the truck made her call in sick for work and follow him in.
“You should go sit,” he said, nodding toward the bench near the car park.
She gave him a look, one eyebrow raised in challenge. “I’m not leaving this spot until you’re on that bus.”
A faint smile tugged at his lips. Of course she wouldn’t. She was stubborn like that, always had been. He loved her for it, even if it made saying goodbye harder.
The bus pulled up, its brakes hissing as it rolled to a stop. Max felt the weight of the moment settle on his shoulders, heavier than the duffel. This was it.
He turned to her, unsure of what to say. Every word that came to mind felt too big or too small.
“Write me first,” she said, breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, but her eyes burned with determination. “As soon as you get there. Don’t wait for me to start.”
“I will,” he said, nodding. “Every day, remember?”
She smiled at that, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding on so tightly it felt like she was trying to anchor him there.
He let himself hold her back, burying his face in her hair for just a moment. He wasn’t going to cry. He wouldn’t let himself.
“I’ll see you after training,” she whispered against his chest, her voice shaking just a little. “I’ll be there, Max.”
He pulled back, cupping her face in his hands. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
The driver called for boarding, and Max grabbed his bag. He didn’t look back as he stepped onto the bus. He couldn’t. If he did, he might not get on at all.
But as the bus pulled away, he glanced out the window. She was still standing there, exactly where he left her, her hand raised in a wave he couldn’t return.
He pressed his forehead against the glass, the weight of her promise settling in his chest. She would be there. He had to believe it.
Training was relentless.
The early mornings were the worst—before the sun even thought about rising, before his body remembered how to move. They ran until their legs felt like they’d snap beneath them, did push-ups until their arms gave out, and marched under the weight of packs that felt heavier with every mile. The shouting never stopped, every mistake earning a punishment meant to break them down and rebuild them into something sharper, stronger.
But it was nothing compared to what Max had already endured.
At home, the yelling was never meant to make him stronger. The bruises weren’t badges of discipline—they were reminders of how small he was made to feel. Every time he hit the ground during training, his drill sergeant barking at him to get up, Max thought of how often he’d done the same thing in that house. He got up then, and he got up now.
The other guys complained at night, lying on their bunks and licking their wounds, but Max didn’t join in. They didn’t know how lucky they were—how much easier it was to run ten miles when there wasn’t a door slamming behind you or fists flying to match.
And then there were the letters.
Her first one came the day after he arrived, folded neatly into an envelope with her handwriting scrawled across the front. The sight of it made his chest ache, and he didn’t even wait to get back to the barracks to read it.
Hey, tough guy. I hope this gets to you quick. Are they making you run as much as I think they are? Do you miss me? I miss you. It’s been one day and this town already feels different without you. Keep writing, okay? I’ll keep writing too. Just don’t let them make you forget who you are, Max. I love you.
The letters became his lifeline. Every night, after lights-out, he’d sit on the edge of his bunk with a flashlight and write her back. He told her about the blisters on his feet, the meals that barely qualified as food, the drill sergeant who could make a grown man cry with a single word. But he also told her how he was getting stronger, faster, better—how he thought about her every time things got too hard.
She didn’t just write about missing him. Her letters were full of details—what their friends were up to, how the leaves were starting to change by the lake, what songs were playing on the radio. She made him feel like he wasn’t missing everything. Like she was keeping his place for him.
The days blurred together after a while, a constant cycle of exhaustion and repetition. But then, one morning, everything felt different.
It was the last day of training.
Max stood in formation with the others, the sun rising behind them as their drill sergeant paced in front of the line. They’d been through hell together—guys who had started as strangers now felt like brothers. But Max wasn’t thinking about them.
He was thinking about her.
He scanned the crowd of families waiting just beyond the training field, his heart pounding harder than it ever had during a run. She had said she’d be here. She promised.
And then he saw her.
She was standing near the back, craning her neck to see over the heads of taller people in front of her. When their eyes met, she smiled so brightly that for a second, everything else—the noise, the exhaustion, the fear—fell away.
Max’s throat tightened, but he forced himself to focus. One last task. One last push. He would finish this, and then he’d go to her.
And this time, he wouldn’t have to leave too soon.
Max’s heart hammered as the ceremony came to a close. The drill sergeant dismissed them with a sharp bark, and the tension that had held the recruits in place finally broke. Families surged forward, cheers and hugs filling the air. Max stood frozen for a moment, scanning the crowd again until he saw her pushing through the mass of people, her face a mix of determination and joy.
She was exactly how he remembered her, but somehow even better. Her hair bounced as she hurried toward him, and the familiar tilt of her smile made his chest ache. And yet, as soon as she stopped a few feet in front of him, she planted her hands on her hips like she had all the time in the world.
“Well, well,” she said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Hey there, tough guy.”
Max swallowed hard, trying to keep his composure. But her teasing grin made the corner of his mouth twitch, threatening to break into a smile he wasn’t supposed to give just yet.
From behind her, one of his barrack mates, Danny came up and watched her as she eyed up Max. When she noticed him, he nodded at her. “Ma’am.”
She snorted, shaking her head. “Don’t ‘ma’am’ me, I’m only young.” She stepped closer, looking at Max once more, her expression shifting to exaggerated awe. “That’s a whole lot of muscles you’ve got there now. What’ve they been feeding you?”
Max tried not to laugh, but he couldn’t stop his lips from curving upward.
“You’re not supposed to touch the recruits until they’ve been tapped out,” Danny said, his voice low, playful.
She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by Max’s attempt at staying serious. “Is that so? Guess I’ll have to keep my hands to myself for a minute longer, huh?”
He held her gaze, the tension building between them until it was almost unbearable. She took another step forward, her smile softening into something sweeter, something he’d missed so much it hurt.
“Max,” she said quietly, her voice just loud enough for him to hear over the noise around them.
And then, finally, she reached out and tapped his shoulder.
That was all it took. Max didn’t hesitate—he dropped his duffel to the ground and swept her into his arms, lifting her clean off the ground. She laughed, but it broke halfway through, and then she was crying, her face buried in his shoulder.
“I missed you,” she said, her voice muffled against his uniform.
Max held her tighter, his eyes stinging as he pressed his cheek against her hair. “I missed you too,” he murmured, his voice thick.
For a moment, neither of them moved. She clung to him like she was afraid he might disappear, and Max let himself soak in the feel of her in his arms—the warmth, the softness, the familiarity he’d craved every single day he was gone.
When she finally pulled back, her hands stayed on his shoulders, her fingers brushing against the hard muscle beneath his uniform. She tilted her head, a teasing smile breaking through her tears. “Seriously, Max. What’s with these muscles? You didn’t look like this when you left.”
He chuckled, the sound low and rough, and shook his head. “Had to give you something to brag about, didn’t I?”
She laughed, swiping at her cheeks with the sleeve of her sweater. “Oh, I’m definitely bragging. You’re not going anywhere without me showing you off first.”
“Not going anywhere without you at all,” Max said softly.
Her smile faltered for just a second, her eyes filling again. “Good,” she whispered. “Because I’m not letting you go.”
He cupped her face gently, leaning in until their foreheads touched. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“Always,” she said, and for the first time in months, Max felt like he was finally home.
As they were about to kiss, a cough disrupted them. Danny. “Are you done?”
“Leave me alone Danny, I’ve seen enough of you.” Max laughed, pulling her in closer.
“I’m heading out, my girl’s at the car but I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Danny asked, taking off his hat and running his hand through it.
“Yeah you will. See you soon Dan.”
The desert heat was unrelenting, the sun beating down on Max and Danny as they sat outside their barracks during a rare moment of downtime. Max leaned against a wall, his cap pulled low over his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to shield him from Danny’s relentless teasing.
“You’ve been staring at that box for five minutes, man,” Danny said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair. “You sure you don’t want me to take it off your hands? I’d do a solid job proposing to her, you know.”
Max shot him a look, his jaw tightening, though there was no real heat behind it. “Touch it, and I’ll bury you in the sand.”
Danny snorted, tossing a rock lazily across the dusty ground. “Relax, lover boy. I’m just saying—you’ve had that ring for months. You’ve got the whole speech planned, don’t you? ‘I’ve loved you since we were kids, you’re my whole world,’ blah, blah, blah. Bet you even practiced in the mirror.”
Max rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small velvet box, flipping it open to reveal the simple but elegant ring inside. He didn’t need anything flashy—she wouldn’t want that. The ring was perfect: timeless, just like her.
“I don’t need a speech,” Max said quietly, running his thumb along the edge of the box. “She already knows. She’s known since before I left the first time.”
Danny’s teasing grin softened into something more genuine. “She’s a lucky girl, you know. Not everyone would stick around through all this.”
“She’s not sticking around,” Max corrected, his voice firm. “She’s living her life—uni, friends, everything she’s always wanted. She’s just...waiting for me to come back, too.”
Danny whistled low. “Well, when you put it like that, I guess you’re the lucky one.”
Max didn’t argue. He thought about her every day—her laugh, the way she scribbled little doodles in the corners of her letters, the photo she’d sent him of her sitting on the quad with her textbooks spread out around her. She looked happy, and that was what mattered most to him.
But God, he missed her.
“I’ll ask her when we’re off duty,” Max said, snapping the box shut and tucking it safely back into his pocket. “The next time I get to see her, I’m not waiting. I’m not wasting another minute.”
Danny grinned, tipping his chair back on two legs. “You’re gonna make me cry, man. I’m just glad I’ll be there to see it.”
“You’re not invited.”
“Like hell I’m not.”
They both laughed, the kind of laugh that felt rare in a place like this. For a moment, the heaviness of deployment lifted, replaced by something lighter—hope.
But when the laughter faded, Max’s mind drifted back to her. He pictured her sitting in a lecture hall, twirling a pen between her fingers, her hair catching the sunlight. She’d promised him that first day he left that she’d always be there waiting for him, and she had never broken that promise.
And soon—so soon—he’d finally get to make one to her.
The cab pulled up to her apartment building, a modest brick complex tucked onto a quiet street just off campus. Max stared out the window, his heart thundering in his chest. It didn’t matter that he’d seen her a year ago on leave or that they’d talked just last week on a grainy video call. Being here, knowing she was just a flight of stairs away, made it all feel brand new.
Danny’s words echoed in his head as he grabbed his bag and climbed out. Don’t mess this up, man. She’s been waiting long enough.
The door to her unit opened before he could even knock. There she was, framed in the doorway, wearing an oversized sweater and leggings, her hair falling loose around her shoulders. She broke into a smile so bright it felt like the sun had come out, and before he could say a word, she threw her arms around his neck.
“Max!” she breathed, holding onto him like she never wanted to let go.
He dropped his bag and wrapped her up, burying his face in her hair. She smelled like home, like everything he’d missed.
“Hey,” he said softly, his voice catching.
She pulled back just enough to look at him, her hands sliding to his shoulders. “You’re here. You’re actually here.”
“I’m here.”
She laughed, the sound a little shaky, and grabbed his hand, tugging him inside. “Come on, I made dinner. It’s probably cold by now, but I didn’t want to risk leaving the kitchen in case—”
She didn’t get to finish.
Max stopped dead in the small kitchen, his eyes scanning the space—the mismatched dishes on the counter, the vase of sunflowers he recognised from her letters, the magnets on the fridge holding up her class schedule and pictures of them together. It was perfect.
And suddenly, he couldn’t wait.
“This wasn’t how I planned it,” he muttered, mostly to himself.
“What?” She turned, confusion flickering in her eyes.
Max dropped to one knee right there in the middle of the kitchen, pulling the velvet box from his pocket. He saw her gasp, her hands flying to her mouth, but he was too focused to stop now.
“I wasn’t going to do it like this,” he said, the words tumbling out. “I had a whole plan—something big and romantic—but I don’t care about plans anymore. I just...I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember, and I don’t want to wait another second to ask.” He opened the box, his hands steady despite the chaos in his chest. “Will you marry me?”
She froze, her wide eyes locked on his. The silence stretched, and Max felt a flicker of panic.
“So?” he said, his voice cracking slightly.
That broke her. She let out a choked laugh, tears spilling down her cheeks as she dropped to her knees in front of him. “I’m sorry! I’m just—yes! Of course, yes!”
Her arms went around his neck, and she kissed him fiercely, her tears wetting his face. Max held her close, the ring box forgotten on the floor as he kissed her back, pouring every bit of love and relief into the moment.
When they finally broke apart, she laughed through her tears, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “You really couldn’t wait, huh?”
“Not for this,” he said, his voice low and raw.
She smiled and kissed him again, slower this time, her hands sliding down to rest against his chest. Max stood, lifting her with him effortlessly, and set her on the edge of the counter.
“Max,” she murmured, her hands slipping beneath the collar of his shirt.
“Yeah?” he said, his forehead resting against hers.
“Welcome home.”
He smiled against her lips, capturing them in another kiss, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Max let himself feel it all—the love, the relief, the joy of knowing he was exactly where he was meant to be.
Dinner had been a blur, both of them too giddy and caught up in the moment to care that the food was lukewarm and hastily reheated. They laughed, talked, and stole kisses between bites, the kind of easy affection that felt like they’d never been apart.
Now, hours later, they were tangled together in her bed. The room was dark save for the soft glow of the streetlight filtering through the blinds. She lay draped across his chest, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin, her eyes fixed on the ring now resting snugly on her finger.
“How are we going to do this?” she asked quietly, her voice thoughtful but tinged with uncertainty.
Max’s hand came up to stroke her back, his thumb brushing along her shoulder blade. He let out a soft sigh. “I leave in three months.”
She stilled for a moment, her finger pausing mid-trace.
“But,” he added, his voice warm and steady, “until then, we live the happy life. All of it. You, me, late-night takeout, bad movies, everything.”
She tilted her head up to look at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “Three months isn’t that long, Max. And I’m still at uni. I’ve got two more years. How—”
“We’ve made it work for two years while I’m away,” he interrupted gently, cupping her cheek with one hand. “We can do two more. You’ve been with me through everything—every deployment, every letter, every call. This won’t be any different. Except now,” he added, his lips quirking into a small smile, “you’ll be my fiancée.”
Her lips trembled, and she leaned up to kiss him, slow and deliberate, her hand slipping over his to hold it against her cheek. When she finally pulled back, her eyes shone with determination.
“You’re really bad at letting me be dramatic, you know that?” she teased softly.
“Someone’s gotta keep you in check,” he said with a smirk.
She laughed quietly, settling back against his chest, and Max tightened his arms around her. They lay there in silence for a while, her fingers once again toying with the ring as if she couldn’t quite believe it was real.
He was engaged.
He was happy.
And he was going to marry the love of his life.
the end.
#f1#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula one x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1#max verstappen angst#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv1 fic#mv1 imagine#mv1 x you#mv1 one shot#mv1 x y/n#red bull f1#red bull racing#red bull formula 1#formula one x you#formula one imagine#formula one fanfiction#formula one#f1 one shot#f1 x you
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hey love! first of all: i have to admit i started watching criminal minds for the first time earlier this year only bc of your spencer fics! can we get more stripper!reader and spencer? love your writing!!!
thank you!! It’s a slow routine. You begin in a crouch in your underwear, just like at the club. Chest to your knees, arms twisted with the backs of your hands touching. But, unlike at the club, this underwear is comfortable. There’s nobody watching, and you won’t make any tips. You don’t have a pole nor a stage.
You run through the routine but forgo any pole tricks. You stretch for long, slow minutes, dancing from one space to another. The music in your head isn’t anything you’d play at home, but it works to keep time. You end on your knees again.
It’s not fun.
You stretch toward your phone and pick it up. Spencer’s texted you twice in the ten minutes you weren’t on it.
Hi gorgeous, the first begins, do you want to sleep over? I can make you dinner.
The second, Sorry, I don’t think I’ve ever called you gorgeous before, is that weird? Please come over and pretend I didn’t say that if it was weird
A third pops up while you’re reading. Can I come get you?
You text him back with pleasure. He’s the only guy in your life who talks to you just to talk, without thinking he could fuck you if he says enough right things, even though he has fucked you. Hi babe you can call me anything it’s not weird, I’ll come over! Not working this week, maybe I can stay two days(?) let me know so I can pack enough clothes
You can stay all week, if you want to. I miss you
You imagine him holding his phone, his cheeks pink with blush.
I miss you too, you text back.
Just bring what you want to and we can work it out later
Working it out later could mean anything with Spencer. He’s silly enough to try and put you in his clothes, and generous enough to take you shopping if it saves the time it takes to drive you home.
You’ve packed a bag of clothes and shower things when your phone rings. Spencer’s contact photo covers the whole screen, the two of you together with your face cut out, his smile wide. You were both a teeny bit tipsy.
“Hello?” you answer, bringing the phone to your ear.
“Hi!” He sounds nervous. “I’m outside. Am I gonna get towed?”
“Not if you stay in the car. I’m on my way down right now.”
“Okay, see you in a second,” he says.
He never looks comfortable behind a steering wheel. You aren’t sure why he doesn’t sell his car, maybe because it’s dirt cheap to maintain. He never seems happy to be driving is all.
He smiles when you approach his door, which is better. He rolls down the window.
“Are you okay?” he asks. You bend at the knees to see him better.
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I had a weird feeling about you, like you weren’t alright.”
You lean down further. “I’m okay.”
He grins. You’re waiting for a kiss he doesn’t give, finding yourself a subject for his staring, completely still as his gaze follows around your face. He makes no move to kiss you, and for a moment insecurity blossoms.
“Well, you look okay. Are you getting in? It’s cold,” he says, nodding toward the passenger side.
“No help with my bags?” you ask, closing the door when he tries to open it. “Kidding.”
You round the hood and climb inside. Then Spencer kisses you, polite but emphatic, one on your lips and another just under your jaw as he squeezes your shoulder. You feed into them lovingly.
“Maybe you can stay at my place forever? That way I can stop missing you all the time,” he says, pulling away slowly.
“And when the mystery is gone?” you ask.
“I don’t want mystery with you.”
Spencer takes your bag from your lap and shoves it into the back seat. You drop the smaller one on your shoes.
“Do you wanna get pizza or something?” he asks.
You hold your jaw where he’d kissed you. “Sure,” you say, tingles of his kiss lingering under your hand.
“Or Chinese? What do you want?”
You want more kisses, but you love that he always gives you options. “Pizza for sure. Curly fries, too. Hold my hand?”
Spencer takes it with gusto over the gearstick, and whatever felt like it was missing earlier fills itself in. “Wait,” you say softly, before he can take the car out of park, “just…” You grab his side and drag him toward you for a hug. Holding hands wasn’t gonna be enough —Spencer doesn’t know it yet, but you love him, love how safe he makes you feel, love how fun he makes your life. You can be yourself with him, no matter who that really is.
Spencer holds you, his hand across your shoulder blade rubbing soft lines.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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Teasing or Overstimulating - Part 1
Summary: Do they tease you or overstimulate you?
Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji
Genre: pure smut
CW: NSFW // oral sex, shameless dirty talk, Luffy is a little mean, Zoro is very mean, and Sanji is sweet as ever
———
Luffy:
Overstimulation all the way, often with his mouth. He often strikes without warning, snatching you up as soon as the mood strikes him, dragging your panties to the side, and shoving his tongue in your tight little hole, slurping and grunting and working as much cream out of you as he possibly can until.
“I don’t care if you’re tired, I’m hungry. It’s been hours since I tasted you. Stop trying to close your legs. Hold them open- yeah, just like that.”
Other times, he’ll pin you on the floor and hold the vibrator he found in your nightstand to your clit, laughing when tears well in your eyes because it just feels so good, promising to fuck you with his cock if you just give him one more orgasm but continually moving the goal posts.
“Come on, babe, you’re not that overstimulated. You’re being a total cry baby. Just cum one more time, and I’ll fuck you however you want.” Needless to say, when he does finally get around to fucking you, it’s on his terms, not yours, which just so happens to mean you have to find the strength to cum around his cock two more times.
Zoro:
He’s all for teasing you. It’s no sweat off his brow to languidly drag his tongue over your clit or shove one- just one- thick finger into your leaking hole. It’s no trouble for him to push the head of his big cock inside you and leave it there until you’re babbling absolute nonsense because you just need him to fuck you so bad. It’s quite easy for him to sense when you’re about to cum and pull out, or better yet, to take the vibrator off your clit, depriving you of the orgasm your little body is so desperate for. In fact, he gleans a sense of enjoyment from toying with you.
“I don’t hear you talking back now that you’re all wet. Maybe I shouldn’t let you cum at all just to keep you nice and docile.” Wrestling you beneath him and fucking your attitude out of you, a slow but gratifying process, is one of his favorite activities, and you know this because you can hear the gratification in his voice as he taunts you.
“What’s wrong, princess? Is your little cunt feeling greedy? Do you want to cum on daddy’s big cock? You know you don’t get to decide that.” And when he finally orders you to cum, you’d better do it, or the whole process will start over again.
Sanji:
He never overstimulates you on purpose, but he has an extremely high libido and you only make the situation so much worse, especially when you tangle your fingers in his blonde hair and moan his name.
“I know you’re tired babygirl, but it’ll feel good. I promise. I promise.”
He’ll leave hickies on your beautiful tits and then leave some more because the sight of them makes it necessary. He’ll bury his face in your cunt and lap at your slick folds until your legs are shaking and then do it again because your shaking legs makes him ravenous again. He’ll give you the creampie you’re begging for and then give you another big, hot load right after because the sight of his cum leaking out of your hole necessitates it. And if tears spill down your pretty face from all that pleasure he bestows on you, he’ll kiss your cheeks, but he won’t stop.
“I know, babygirl. I know.” Whether you’re wrapping your legs around his waist or tightening around his cock, you’re only digging yourself into deeper hole. It only ends when he’s completely spent, both of you sweaty and sticking and struggling to catch your breath.
———
Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!
#some of these got a little longer so I decided to split the usual seven into two posts#you'll get ace sabo law and kid tomorrow#one piece#one piece headcanons#one piece x reader#one piece smut#zoro x reader#sanji x reader#luffy x reader#luffy smut#zoro smut#sanji smut
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HOW BATBOYS COMFORT INSECURE READER ── .✦
a/n: I celebrated my birthday and i had a fun time and tysm to all the people who wished me a hppay birthday (a lot tbh I was shocked and so happy) but this was a request by @cup-of-doodles !! so yeah (enjoyy)
(Tags: batboys x insecure!reader)
DICK GRAYSON ── .✦
Compliments for Days: Dick would not hold back. “You think I look good? Sweetheart, you’re the real catch here.” He’d follow up with a series of exaggerated compliments, like, “If beauty were a crime, you’d be serving a life sentence.” And then yk he’ll be like your hype man of like this tiktok audio (here).
Goofy Distraction: To lighten the mood, Dick would do something ridiculously goofy, like pretending to be a terrible dancer and saying, “See, you’re already doing better than me.” He’d shimmy awkwardly across the room just to make you laugh but if you cry even more he might feel guilty.
Overprotective Vibe: He’d pull you into a hug, ruffling your hair. “You’re perfect the way you are, and if anyone says otherwise, I’ll literally punch them in the face. Just give me the word.”
JASON TODD ── .✦
Grumpy Compliment: He’d cross his arms and look you up and down, pretending to be unimpressed. “You’re lucky I love you, because damn, you’re fine as hell, and I can’t even look at you without getting distracted. It’s annoying.”
Jokes to Distract You: Jason would then casually add, “But if you keep saying you’re not perfect, I’m gonna start charging you for all these therapy sessions I’m giving you.” His face might be all grumpy, but the look in his eyes is soft, reassuring you.
TIM DRAKE ── .✦
Logical Support: Tim would approach it in his usual, logical way. “Okay, so you feel insecure about that? Let’s talk it through. Statistically speaking, you’re practically flawless, the ratio between your lips and eyes are perfect with your nose calculating right in the perfect spot.” He’d likely pull out a notebook, listing all the reasons you're amazing, with a dry, humorous commentary.
Techy Distraction: To cheer you up, Tim would start showing you funny memes or videos he’s saved. “See? This is how you should feel—unbothered and hilarious.” He’d give you his best attempt at a cute smile, which might look a bit awkward, but he means it.
Self-Deprecating Humor: He’d then add, “And if you still don’t believe me, let me know. I can hack into the Batcomputer and get a list of all the things you’re absolutely amazing at.” He’d wink, though you know he’s completely serious.
DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦
Confused, but Caring: Damian would be initially confused by your insecurity. “What is this nonsense? You’re perfect.” He’d cross his arms, giving you a disapproving look. “You don’t need to change a single thing. If you insist on thinking otherwise, I’ll have no choice but to lecture you on your obvious superiority.”
Unintentionally Hilarious Comfort: In his usual serious tone, he’d continue, “Whoever made you feel insecure is an idiot, and I will make them regret it. Though, I’ll do it in a proper way, without any unnecessary violence—unless it’s truly necessary.”
Small Gesture: Despite his serious demeanor, he’d take your hand, pulling you closer with a soft, “You are the best thing in my life, and I will ensure you never forget that again.” (Then he’d mutter under his breath, “And if you need more reassurance, I’ll just have Alfred tell you how amazing you are again.”)
BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦
Stern, But Loving: Bruce would give you a soft, stern look, his voice gentle but firm. “You don’t get to think that way, not about yourself. Not ever.”
Overprotective Vibe: He’d pull you into a hug, patting your head like he’s telling you a secret. “If I’m going to let anyone be insecure, it sure as hell won’t be you.” His touch would be gentle, that way he makes sure you feel seen and heard.
Dry Humor: He’d add, “Now stop trying to make me talk more than I need to. But if it makes you feel better, I’m always here to remind you how amazing you are, even if I have to do it in my very limited free time.”
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#batboys#dc#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson imagine#jason todd imagine#jason todd headcanon#dick grayson#dc comics#red hood#red hood x reader#nightwing imagine#nightwing x reader#nightwing headcanon#nightwing#red hood imagine#red hood headcanon#damian wayne#damian wayne x reader#damian al ghul x reader#damian al ghul#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne headcanon#bruce wayne#tim drake x reader#tim drake headcanon#tim drake#red robin headcanon#red robin x reader
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The Second Chance, ft. Red Velvet Wendy
tags: creampie, first time
length: almost 13k
author's note: well, I guess I lied about releasing this by weekend
-
“Miss Son, may I talk to you for a bit?” Wendy’s gaze moves to look at you. “Sure—do you want to talk here, or?” You nod. “Yes, please.”
Wendy invites you to sit on the armchair next to the sofa she’s sitting on. “Can I help you?” “No, not really; I just want to say that today will be my last day with you.” She furrows her eyebrows. “Where are you going?” You grin a little. “Erm, Jiho and I are moving to Japan.” The frown on her face is quickly replaced with excitement. “Oh my God, congratulations!” Wendy hugs you from the side, kind as ever. “Thank you, Miss Son,” your cheeks are getting red, “I, erm, I’m looking forward to having a new life with her.”
Wendy pulls you onto her feet. “Let’s go buy stuff—y’know, parting gifts.” “Oh, that won’t be necessary, Miss Son,” you decline politely, “as far as I know, you’re busy today.” She puts her fists on her waist. “Are you sure you don’t want presents?” You smile. “It’s not that I don’t want them, Miss Son; it’s just that you’ve shown us so much kindness already.” She pouts for a split second before smiling again. “You’re glazing, oppa.” You burst out laughing. “And you spend too much time on social media, Miss Son.”
After the laughs die down, you walk with her towards the lobby where a chauffeur is waiting for the two of you. “Can you brief me on my schedules today?” You unlock the tablet in your hand to look at your notes. “We’ll be going to the food bank first like I said, and here it says you’ll be attending a meeting at Han Group.” “Oh, Han Group—they’re such a good bunch,” you can hear the excitement in her voice, as if impatient to go to that meeting.
-
The car stops in front of the food bank after a 30-minute drive. “We’re here, Miss Son,” the chauffeur says. Wendy stirs awake from her nap. “Oh, we are?” She pulls out a small folding mirror from her purse to look at herself. She tidies her hair to make herself look presentable. “I think I look okay.”
Wendy gets out of the car, and that’s your sign to do the same. Your heart jumps when she wraps an arm around yours—she has never done this before. “Let’s go,” she says, clueless to the fact that your cheeks are blazing hot. “Y-yes, miss.”
You open the door for her, and heads are promptly turned towards you and her. Wendy, used to attention, starts waving and smiling. “Ah, Miss Son, welcome to our house,” someone approaches the two of you—her little name tag says that her name is Han Haru. Wendy lets go of your arm to shake Haru’s hand. “I’m excited to be here, Miss Han.”
Haru asks that you and Wendy follow her to her office that’s located on the second floor, and like the proper assistant that you are, you take position behind the two women.
“Have a seat, please, Miss Son,” Haru says. Wendy sits on the chair on the other side of the desk and asks you to sit next to her. “I take it you’re here to volunteer?” Wendy nods enthusiastically. “Yes, and I’ll also be donating to your cause.”
Haru smiles. “I don’t mean to offend you at all, Miss Son, but why are you doing this—why aren’t you sitting on the top floor of some skyscraper counting your piles of bills?” Wendy smiles twice as softly. “What good is a pile of money if not used for the correct purposes, Miss Han?” Haru nods, satisfied with the answer. “Are we ready to start, then?” Wendy gets on her feet right away. “Thought you’d never ask.”
Haru gives Wendy a vest with the food bank’s logo on the back. “So, what do we do now?” “We’ll make a stop at the kitchen; the crew are working hard to prepare a ton of food, and we’ll help them box it for distribution.” “Sounds great—let’s go, then,” Wendy’s always-positive mind is admirable.
The three of you arrive at the kitchen after a short walk. Wendy’s eyes look at each person present, highly impressed and touched by their kind hearts for being willing to do such work that doesn’t pay much.
“Oppa,” she whispers to you, “can you arrange some bread for them?” You nod. “Of course, Miss Son.” You pull out your phone to text her treasurer, and after a short back-and-forth, the treasurer says that she’ll get it ready within the next hour. “She’s working on it, Miss Son,” you inform her, getting a nod as a response.
Haru points at a table that’s full of folded food containers and says that Wendy will be working on it first, and then after the food is ready, Haru and her will pack each one to the brim. “Are you also taking a part in this?” “Yes, I am―Miss Son here wouldn’t last a day without me,” you say, earning an elbow to the ribs from Wendy. “Alright, you can work with her, then—I’ll be helping somewhere else.”
You grab one folded container from the table and immediately start working on it, and since you’ve handled this sort of thing before, you know how to shape them into a ready-to-use form. Wendy, on the other hand, isn’t having as much success as you. “Oppa, slow down; let me see how you do it.” “You’ve never done this before?” “No, I—oh my God, slow down!” She airs her frustration when she sees you work on another box swiftly. “Alright, alright—here.”
You grab one more from the pile and place it on the table. “See these lines, Miss Son?” Wendy’s eyes follow your finger that’s running along the lines on the paper. “The factory put these lines here as a guide for you to fold.” “Okay, so?” You fold the paper following the lines, and after such simple steps, the box starts to take shape. You wait for Wendy to do the same things you have. You can see the fascination on her face now that she’s making progress. “Okay, okay—now what?” “Lift these little tabs and fit them into the slits, just like this.” Once again, she does the same things, and after finishing it, Wendy begins clapping in excitement—she’s clapping and jumping so much that her vest that’s just a bit too big is bouncing around. “Oh my God—oh my God, that was so cool!” “Dozens to go, Miss Son.”
You and Wendy finish shaping these boxes at a steady pace, but before the two of you manage to finish the pile, Haru announces that the food is ready to be packed. “I’ll take care of this, Miss Son; you can go help Miss Han,” you say. Without saying a word, Wendy quickly jogs towards the assembly line. You steal some glances every now and then, and in a particular instance, you see her expressions that scream “I’m overwhelmed”: her eyes are moving rapidly, her mouth is open, and her hands are shaking.
“You can stop, mister; I think we have enough boxes, and we need your help here,” Haru says from the distance. You rush towards Wendy and Haru so that you can help them. “Help us with those bags, please.” You shake paper bags upside down to fill them with air. The expanded bags can then hold the food container.
-
In her out-of-breath state, Wendy crashes onto a nearby bench. “How are we feeling, Miss Son?” She puts on a thumbs-up for you. “Amazing—I-I feel like a saint right now.” You laugh. “I mean, you kind of are at this point.” You pull out a small bottle of water from your back pocket. “Would you like some water, Miss Son?” She nods, so you crack it open and hand it over to her. “Thanks, oppa.”
You guess that she doesn’t have the energy to walk to her car, so you ask the chauffeur to come to your location. “The car is on the way, Miss Son.” Once again, she nods, still unable to stop panting.
Before long, the car pulls into the side of the road close to you. “Can you walk, Miss Son?” “Yeah, yeah—just one second, please.” While Wendy stumbles towards the car, you take the initiative to open the door for her. “Oh, that’s so nice of you, oppa—are you sure you don’t want to stay, because I can’t imagine a day without you.” You smile. “Apologies, miss, but the decision has been made.”
Once she’s inside, Wendy asks you to grab another bottle of water, so you do just that. Now that she’s in the privacy of her car, she doesn’t bother drinking neatly, letting water drip off her chin and onto her clothes. “Excuse me, Miss Son,” you wipe her chin with tissue to clean the mess. “You’re treating me like a kid,” she comments. You apologize once more. “Just trying to make sure you look okay for the meeting.” Wendy sinks into her seat. “Meeting? Really?”
Soon, the car stops in front of the Han Group building. “I’m going to fucking cry,” she says. Wendy rarely curses, only saying them when she’s in the most frustrating or annoying moments. “Remind me what I’m here for?” “Erm,” you quickly open your notes, “you’re here for a friendly visit.” Wendy looks out the window. “I’ll need you to keep your ears open, oppa—if you hear me say cake, pull me out of the meeting.” You nod. “Certainly, Miss Son.”
You get out of the car first and head towards the receptionist table. “Hello, I’m with the Son Industries,” you show the lady your employee ID card, “I’m here with Miss Son for a meeting.” “Sure, but where is she?” You point at her car that’s stopped at the lobby. “She’s still catching her breath—oh, there she is,” you see Wendy walking through the door with a smile. The receptionist reaches for the landline on her desk, and before long, she’s ready to take you to the meeting room.
The lady stops in front of a small office space on the first floor. “The boss will join you in a moment,” she says. The lady then leaves after you thank her (with a smile on your face, of course), leaving you alone with Wendy. You open the door for her. “After you, Miss Son.”
You take a seat on the empty chair next to her. Wendy lets out a hum, and when you look at her, she’s trying to roll her chair towards you. “I hope you don’t mind,” she says. “Sorry?” She doesn’t answer you, opting to show you instead by resting her head on your shoulder. “If there’s anything I can do to sway you from leaving me, let me know.” “Miss Son—” “Yeah, yeah, the decision has been made or whatever you said.”
You wrap an arm around her shoulder. “If the plan fails, I’ll come back running to you, Miss Son—well, if you’d let me, that is.” Wendy chuckles. “You’re always welcome at Son Industries, oppa.”
Through the glass pane, you see that the boss of the Han Group is approaching, so you tap Wendy’s arm to get her to straighten her posture. “Did you know that my father tried arranging a marriage for me and that guy?” You furrow your eyebrows—you never heard about such arrangement. “Mr. Han Harvey? Really?” Wendy sighs. “Well, he’s married to someone else now, so it doesn’t matter anymore—I like older guys anyway.”
“Miss Son,” Harvey greets her with a smile, “thank you for coming.” Wendy puts on her businesswoman smile. “Of course, Mr. Han; thank you for inviting me.” Harvey takes a seat on the other side of the desk. “We’ll be talking about business a little if that’s okay with you, Miss Son.” Wendy chuckles. “I was afraid you’d say that, but sure.”
-
“Thank you, Mr. Lee—I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
Wendy enters her house and beelines towards the kitchen to find something to put in the microwave. She sees some leftover kimbap from yesterday when she opens the fridge. “Yeah, sure.”
Once the reheated food is in her hands, she grabs the letter you’ve written for her as a “parting gift.” “Why am I nervous about this, it’s just a letter,” Wendy questions herself. She tries clearing her mind by taking a few deep breaths first. “Alright, here goes nothing.”
“Miss Son,
I was the first person in my entire extended family to have gotten a bachelor's degree, and with only that degree in my back pocket, I mustered up the courage to apply to your father’s big-city company. Heh, I still remember how my heart raced when I received an interview invitation 10 days after I had applied.
I spent the night wondering what I should wear, since I had been told that first impressions are the most important thing when looking for a job, but at the time, I only had a few shirts of different colors and some grey and black trousers. Eventually, I decided to put on a red shirt and grey trousers since I thought that I would look good in them.
I remember walking through the big doors of the ground floor, and it might have been just me, but I thought people were looking at me weird, and believe me when I say that it killed my confidence that was nearly nonexistent to begin with.
The receptionist at the time was Miss Kim Yerim. I remember the kind smile on her face when she first greeted me. She immediately asked me if I was going to an interview, and before long, I found myself sitting in an empty room nervously, waiting for someone to enter and actually start asking me questions.
I remember calling my parents immediately after I had been told that I was accepted at your father’s company. I understand that it might sound corny or stupid to you considering what kind of job it was, but for a man with simple dreams like me, it meant the world to me, Miss Son.
Since I don’t have much space left on this page, I’ll skip some details and tell you how I felt when I was told that I’d become your personal assistant. Truthfully, Miss Son, I couldn’t sleep; I was so busy worrying about working directly under you.
It didn’t help that you weren’t in the best mood when I first met you that morning. I recall the way your sharp gaze was directly aimed at me. Honestly, it felt like there was a hole between my eyes because of it. Little did I know that behind all your charades, you’re actually a very kind person.
Ultimately, I’d like to thank you, Miss Son. You’ve given this guy from the countryside plenty of chances to grow, both as an employee and a person, and I promise that I will never stop growing and learning wherever I am.
Miss Son, I’d like to think that this isn’t a perpetual goodbye, but rather a brief divergence. As much as I’m about to live a new life with my wife in a new land, I believe that one day I’ll find my way back to Son Industries, and whenever that may be, I hope that you keep yourself safe and well until then.
With respect and admiration,
Jin Changmin”
Tears that have been flowing freely out of Wendy’s eyes land on the letter. “Goodness me, oppa, why are you doing this to me—I-I thought we had something special.” She tries reading the letter from the top again, but her mind can’t focus. “God damn it, why, oppa?” Her weak hand lets go of the letter, thus letting it drop onto the carpet. “I-I love you, Jin Changmin—by God, I love you so, so much.” No matter how loud or how many times she says it, she doesn’t hear any answer, and it wrings her heart beyond help.
In a dangerous mix of anger and anguish, Wendy tosses the mug in front of her at the wall, shattering it into hundreds of pieces—a manifestation of her broken heart. “I-I hate you, oppa; I-I hate that you’ve left me like this.”
Wendy contemplates if she wants to burn the letter, but at the last minute, she decides against it. “Come back to me soon, oppa; I’ll be waiting for you.”
-
“Love, we’re here—we’re actually here,” Jiho tugs your hand that she’s holding, seemingly in disbelief that the two of you have reached Japan. “You’re excited, aren’t you, love?” Jiho nods. “I’m both excited and nervous, but I have you with me, so I’m sure I’ll be fine.”
You lift your hand to hail a cab for you and your wife, and the first thing you do is shove your luggage into the trunk. After getting in, you speak into the translator app, which, well, translates your words, and not long after that, the cab starts rolling. “No turning back now,” you think.
You pull Jiho closer to you. “Get some nap, love; I’ll keep an eye out for us.” She promptly yawns. “I love you,” she says softly. “I love you too,” you end your reply by giving a peck on her head.
It doesn’t take long for you to reach your destination, which is a regular 5-story apartment building not too far from the center of the city. “Love, we’re here,” you tap your wife’s arm to wake her up. She looks around with half open eyes. “Oh, okay.” While she gathers herself after her nap, you get off the cab first to take your luggage out the trunk.
Once Jiho is ready, you take her hand in yours and walk with her towards your new unit.
“Oh, this is pretty cool,” Jiho comments. “Do we have a bidet?” She jogs to the bathroom to check. “Oh, yes, we do—wow, it’s already so much better here.” Her excitement is infectious, and you can’t help but feel the same.
You take a seat on the edge of the bed, and without being asked, Jiho takes her favorite spot on your lap. “Thank you for everything, love,” she says. You peck her on the lips. “You are all I have, love.” She smiles. “And you are all I have, especially in this foreign land.”
Jiho suddenly comes in for a kiss, her hands placed neatly on your nape. “What do you say we break this place in?” “Only if you promise you won’t be too loud.” She laughs. “I can’t help it; my husband is almost too big for me.”
You fall backwards onto the bed, letting your wife take a different position. “Love, I don’t have the energy to ride you,” she says, so you let her lie on her back first before getting on top of her. “Ah, this is more like it.”
Jiho reaches for the topmost button on your shirt but stops before your last button. “Something feels odd,” she comments, “do you not want to do this?” You’ve been caught. “Sorry, I was just thinking about something else—I’ll focus on us now.” Jiho furrows her eyebrows. “You weren’t thinking about Miss Son, were you?” You weren’t, but now that she mentions it, you wonder what Miss Son is up to. “No, I wasn’t,” you deflect.
Jiho asks you to prove to her if you’re truly focused on her and only her, her words laced with jealousy. “You got it, love,” you reply.
You can feel that Jiho is quite unhappy with you, but the way she lets out a small gasp when your lips first latch on the side of her neck assures you that the situation can be salvaged as long as you perform well.
Jiho guides your hand towards her breasts, and that’s a sign to you that she’s feeling better. “T-touch me here, please.” You palm and play with her breast like she wants you to, thus earning soft moans from her. “Yes, just like that, love—just don’t think about anything else.”
You stop the stimulation on her neck when you see that there’s a decently sized pink spot on it. “You’ll need to put on a scarf when we go out tonight, love.” Jiho chuckles. “Nah, I’ll proudly show off your mark.”
You straighten your posture to undress properly, and while you do that, Jiho takes the chance to do the same. You think that she’s ready now that she’s down to her underwear, but based on her expressions, she’s not in the right mind just yet.
“Oppa,” she calls to you, “I’m feeling something, but I can’t put it into words.” You keep your eyes on her. “Is it bad?” Jiho bites her bottom lip nervously. “I-I don’t know.” You start petting her head gently. “Can you describe a little?” “I just feel… uneasy—I feel like something is looming ahead, but I don’t know what.” You put on a smile that you hope is assuring. “I understand if you’re nervous, but as long as we stick together, we will be fine, love.”
Jiho holds your hand with her soft hands. “I hope you won’t blame me when things don’t work out—I’m being serious right now.” “It wouldn’t be fair for me, love; we’re in this together, are we not?” Your respond doesn’t quite satisfy Jiho. “What would you do if things don’t work out, oppa?” “I’d take you back to Korea,” you say the first answer in your head. Jiho takes a few deep breaths. “Sounds good.”
This doesn’t feel like a good transition to sex, so you ask if she wants to continue like this. “Just… hold me for now, please,” she requests. “Of course, love.”
-
“I’m home,” you say as you enter through the door, but there’s no sign of her. Usually, she’ll rush to you as soon as she hears the door swing open, but not today. “Love, where are you?” You put down the bouquet on the living room table and start walking around the interior. Your heart rate spikes when you hear moans coming out of the bedroom. “What is she doing,” you think as your hand turns the handle.
Your heart comes to an immediate stop—she’s having sex with someone else, bouncing her butt on his lap. “What the fuck?” Jiho turns her head to look at you. “Oh, hey, there,” she waves at you casually. “What the fuck are you doing right now?” She laughs. “Why, I’m having sex—y’know, because you wouldn’t touch me.” You tilt your head so that you can look at the guy. “Who the fuck is that, even?” She shrugs. “I don’t know; I just met him last night.”
Jiho gets off the guy’s dick and makes her way towards you—you manage to catch a glimpse of his size, and he’s not even half as big as you are. “You’re mad, aren’t you?” You look at her in the eyes, trying your hardest to stay calm amidst the crazy turn of events. “I have some adjectives to describe my feelings right now.” She laughs, seemingly mocking you. “Well, should’ve not skipped touching your wife, then.”
Before you address this further, you gesture to the guy to leave because you don’t think he speaks the same language as you do. He says something when he passes you; not sure what, but the smirk on his face indicates that he probably said something dirty about you or Jiho. “Fuck you, asshole.” You punch him in the stomach, and when he bends because of the impact, you kick his butt like it was a soccer ball, officially kicking him out of your apartment.
With that guy out of the apartment, you turn your attention to your wife. “You look calm, but I can see smoke coming out of your ears.” You shove Jiho by her shoulders, thus making her fall backwards onto the bed. “Since when you turned into such a slut?” “Recently—you know, when you ignored me.” You furrow your eyebrows. “Ignored you? You said you were on period,” you argue. She laughs. “And you just believed me? You couldn’t be bothered to check with your own eyes?” You can’t believe your ears. “What was I supposed to do, pull your pants down? What if you had actually been on your period?”
Jiho makes another argument, but in your disinterested state of mind, you ignore her, opting to undress instead. “Wha-what are you doing?” “You said you wanted to be touched, didn’t you?” She gulps. “W-well, yes,” she’s starting to crack under the pressure. “W-wait, love, please listen to me.” You stop in your tracks. “What?” You can tell that her heart is racing. “Love, I-I’m sorry; I-I realized I’ve just made a fatal mistake.” You scoff. “You only said it because I caught you in action—did you enjoy it, by the way, because he was quite small,” you add a little taunt. She shakes her head, visibly scared of this side of you that she has never seen before. “I-I couldn’t even feel him, I swear!”
You quickly get on top of Jiho, her nervous, rapid breaths hitting your face endlessly. “What the fuck were you moaning for then, hm?” “Uh, uh, d-dramatic effects?” Your mind clouded by blind rage, you slap her on the cheek, thus leaving a big red mark on it. “Dramatic effects? What are you, a fucking porn star?” Jiho starts sobbing because of the sting—she’s debating whether it’s her face or her heart that’s in worse pain. “P-please, I-I didn’t enjoy it—I swear to God,” the sobs make her words sound less intelligible.
You stop for a moment. Deep inside, you’re trying so hard to regain control of your raging heart and mind. “You’re going to regret this, you know.” She nods. “I-I’m already regretting it, l-love.” You exhale deeply. “Don’t call me that.” Jiho hesitantly reaches for your face that’s hovering closely above hers. “B-but I love you; I-I really do.” You grab her wrists and slowly guide her hands off your face. “Why did you do that, then—why did you hurt me like that?” “I-I don’t know.”
You grab her ankles and fold her in half. “Do you know where this is going?” She nods. “C-claim me, my love.” You flinch a little when you hear the name. “Don’t fucking call me that, slut.” Jiho’s eyes widen in shock. “P-please don’t call me that.” “You don’t deserve love or honey, so I’m calling you a slut, and you’re going to fucking like it.”
Jiho lets out a moan when your cock suddenly enters her pussy. “M-make me yours again,” she says. She lets out another moan when the tip of your cock reaches her deepest spot. “Yes, just like that.”
You turn up the pace to the maximum that you’re able to do, using the feral flame of jealousy and anger in your heart as fuel. “Fucking slut,” you insult her, “I tried being respectful, and this is how you pay me back?” “L-love—nghk!” Her speech is interrupted due to your palm that’s choking her. “Shut the fuck up,” you growl.
You don’t know how long you’ve been fucking her like this, but one thing that’s sure is that orgasm is almost at the door. “C-cum inside a-and claim me back,” she urges. “You still dare making demands?” Jiho shakes her head. “I-I was just… s-saying—oh, fuck.”
You quickly pull out of her pussy and flip her onto her stomach. With your cock in hand, you guide it until the tip touches her rear entrance. “I should fuck you here, make it loose for anyone who comes after.” Jiho trembles. “I-I haven’t—w-we haven’t put anything in there.” You chuckle. “Is that so, because I could’ve sworn I saw that guy put his middle finger in your ass.” “Y-you saw—fuck!” You interrupt her with a smack to the butt. “I saw what?” Jiho fights through the pain. “Y-you saw wrong.”
“Close your eyes,” you command, and Jiho adheres right away; not only does she close her eyes, but she also presses her face into the bed. You hear a muffled gasp from her when your spit-coated thumb traces the shape of her forbidden hole. “You really had to wait until we’re in a foreign land to stab me in the back, huh?” “I’m sorry,” you hear a faint response from her. “I don’t know if an apology is sufficient, to be completely honest,” you say, your tone laden with sadness and disappointment. “Anyway, here I go.”
Jiho clenches her fist as she prepares to give up her virginity. “I guess this is how I die,” she thinks. Tears begin swarming out of her eyes again as the second wave of guilt crashes over her heart. “I’m so sorry, my love; I don’t know why I hurt you—you’ve been the best husband I could ever ask for.” Her body goes limp when the tip of your cock begins pushing into her. “Take me, my love; make me yours again.”
Jiho lets out a long moan when she feels you in her pussy instead of her ass. “L-love?” You pet her butt gently. “I might be angry, but I’m no degenerate.” A small smile is drawn on her face; you never do anything in bed without her consent, and even though your head is full of anger (that’s justified), the fact that you’re still firmly holding on to your principle is touching, if not admirable. “Y-yes, of course—y-you’re a great husband for me.” Jiho’s heart flutters when she sees a smile on your face, oblivious to what kind of thoughts are running rampant inside your head. “Oh, you’re so clueless, sweetheart,” you say internally.
You maintain a pace that’s rather relaxed, basking in the intimate moment of what might be the last you’ll have with her. “D-do you remember our first night?” “Before or after the wedding?” “Oh, God, b-before.” You take a quick trip to memory lane; you had sex multiple times on your first night with her, doing it in different positions, including the one you’re currently in right now. “I did,” you answer, “you also took me from behind.” She nods. “E-exactly.”
You don’t know Jiho is mentioning the past, so you ask. “I-I just wish I could go back to that night—I swear w-we were so in love.” You chuckle a bit. “And we’re no longer in love? Is that why you cheated on me?” A stray tear flows onto her cheek. “P-please, I-I know it was so wrong of me.” You close your eyes, your hips fully stopped. “Hindsight is always perfect, isn’t it?” Jiho nods again. “I-I wish—” You silence her with a soft shush. “The past is the past, and there’s nothing else that can be done right now.”
A few more thrusts and you’re ready to bust. “I’m close,” you say, your tone flat thanks to the realization that this is the end of your story. “Feel free to finish anywhere.” You lodge your cock deep inside her when you explode, sending your load right into her womb. Usually, you’d praise her as you cum, but this time, your tongue feels heavy, thus making you unable to say anything.
You pull out when you’re done spurting everything out, and some excess semen drips out of her. “Some things just don’t change,” you think.
You grab your clothes that are making a mess on the floor, putting them on one by one, and the sight makes Jiho start crying again. “W-where are you going?” “Home,” you give her a short answer. “B-but isn’t this our home?” You sigh. “Not anymore, no.”
Jiho completely breaks down. It is clear to her now that everything is doomed; she has messed up the marriage, and now, you’re leaving the relationship that has been nurtured for years. “At least clue me how I can fix this, please,” she begs. You wipe some tears off her cheeks with your thumbs, comforting her as much as you can. “You can’t, sweetheart.” Jiho flinches; you used to call her by that name when the two of you were dating. “Sometimes, sweetheart, sometimes good things fall apart, and you just can’t fix them.”
Jiho pecks the back of your hand. “I’m so sorry, my love,” she says tearily, fully in regret. You peck her on the forehead the same way you did on your first date. “Promise me that you’ll be safe and happy wherever you are.” She nods. “Y-you too, oppa.”
The way she’s sobbing as you walk away from you wrests your heart terribly, but what else is there to be done?
“The world is so damn cruel sometimes, isn’t it?”
-
“Excuse me, sir, but unless you’re waiting for a flight, you need to leave.” You rub your eyes to get yourself together. “Oh, no, I’m not waiting for a flight—I’ll leave after this,” you say. The guard gives you a little nod before walking away.
You walk out of the airport while thinking about the next course of action. You still have money that should be enough to live off for about a month. “If I can get a basement apartment, the money will last longer,” you think. Still in the theme of making sure the money lasts as long as it can, you decide to just walk towards the city instead of getting a cab.
You reach the edge of urban civilization after around a few thousand steps. There is an apartment building not too far ahead, and you hope that it has a cheap vacant unit in the basement that you can occupy.
“Good evening,” you greet the lady at the front desk, “is there a basement unit here?” Much to your delight and relief, there is. “You’re in luck; there’s only one left,” she says. “I’ll take that right now, please,” you say, not bothering to think twice. “Please have a seat while I take care of some stuff.”
It is when your butt lands on the steel bench that you start thinking about Jiho again.
“I’m letting you go, sweetheart—make sure you’re safe and happy, okay?”
The relationship started with you “stealing” her from her abusive ex-boyfriend, but even then, she had never fooled around with anyone else behind his back, so in your mind, you don’t think that she had any reason to hurt you. “I guess this is how it was meant for us,” you conclude.
The front desk lady calls your name, so you quickly approach her. “This is your contract, and if you accept, please sign down here.” You take the paper from her and start reading, carefully taking mental notes about the important points in the contract as you go. One of them says that management doesn’t cover anything if the unit happens to get drowned during a flood. “That’s quite the risk,” you think, but it’s not like you have too many options.
You read the whole contract once again to make sure you’re not missing anything, and now you’re confident enough to sign it. “It’s time to pay now, isn’t it?” The lady nods with a smile and pulls out an EDC machine, so you hand your card to her. Shortly after that, you’re told that you can enter your unit with the key in her hand. “Thank you so much.”
A small wave of sadness washes over your heart when you see the interior that only has one twin-sized mattress lying on the floor and a small wardrobe—your previous unit was fully furnished. “Round two of rags to riches, I guess.”
The first thing you do is lie down, of course. It’s been a very long day with work and Jiho, and you just want to catch your breath. “I’m just going to chill.”
-
You’ve arrived at Son Industries to look for a chance to be hired again, feeling much better now that you have clean clothes on your body. The decorations haven’t changed too much in the past year—the big sofa in the lobby has changed, though; it used to be beige, but now it’s a brown one. “Has to be Miss Son’s doing,” you think.
In terms of personnel, the person attending the front desk is no longer Mr. Bang that you were close with, and you don’t recognize this new person. Nonetheless, you muster up the courage to approach the woman. “Hello, good morning,” you greet her, “is the company open to walk-in interviews?” She blinks rapidly, a mix of confusion and startlement drawn on her face. “Erm, let me check first.”
The way the woman is scratching her temple isn’t a good sign for you; it doesn’t look like they’re currently open for people to walk in and ask to be interviewed. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we can accommodate you today.” You try your best to hide the sourness in your heart. “Ah, no worries; I shouldn’t have come without prior notice.” The woman asks for your contact information for future references, saying that the company will reach out to you should there be a job vacancy. Without wasting time, you write down your name, phone number, and email address on a piece of paper and hand it to her. “I can’t promise anything, though.” You nod. “No, no, it’s totally okay—thank you for the help!” You quickly part ways with her, smiling on your way out.
Your smile disappears when you reach the street again as nervousness begins filling your mind. The money you have won’t last too long at this point—you probably have around a week before you completely run out, and should that happen, you’ll be forced to live under a bridge or at a park somewhere.
You contemplate if you want to call Wendy right away but considering how long you’ve been away from her and who she is, she might have changed her number long ago. “This is a big city; surely there’s a chance for me somewhere,” you try to stay optimistic.
You take a lap around the central business district, and you happen to see a guy who’s busy sticking job vacancy pamphlets on light poles. You quickly cross the street to get to the pole and check out the pamphlet. You see that it’s from a record label startup companythat’s currently looking for both a chauffeur and a personal assistant for their newly appointed director. “Yeah, I can do that.”
You pull out your phone to check where the company is located, and you’re glad that it’s not too far away. You decide that you’re going to take the bus this time since you’ve had enough fun getting around the city on foot. Before that, though: “Mister, mister,” you chase him half running, “can I have one of that, please?” The guy nods and hands you one of the pamphlets. “Alright, thank you.”
Soon, you find yourself standing in front of an office building that’s smaller than the one Son Industries calls headquarters. Like before, you quickly enter and approach the front desk. “Excuse me, miss—I’m here for this,” you hold the pamphlet in the air for her to see. “Ah, of course,” she says, “chauffeur or assistant?” You’ve never been a chauffeur before, and as interesting as it sounds to change jobs, you’d rather play safe and become an assistant once more as you’re comfortable and confident in your experience and skills. “Assistant, please.”
The lady leaves her seat and asks you to follow her, and after a brief walk, you reach an empty room. “An interviewer will join you soon; please wait inside.” You thank her for the help and quickly settle in the room that only has some chairs and a desk. You’re experienced in being an assistant, so it’s odd that you’re nervous right now. “Man, what’s wrong with me,” you ask yourself.
Thankfully, salvation comes quickly in the form of two interviewers. “You must be our candidate,” the woman says, and you respond to her with a smile on your face. “I must say, mister, I’m quite giddy to see a candidate so soon.” You laugh a bit. “I am also quite giddy to get a job, miss.”
The two sit across the table from you. “My name is Shin Jimin, and this is Shin Sooin—can you introduce yourself a bit?” You nod. “My name is Jin Changmin, and I have decent experience under my belt after having worked for Son Industries for around 5 years.” Jimin beams. “Did you say Son Industries?” You nod again. “You know,” she starts, “I tried applying multiple times and could never make it past the interviews.” You chuckle. “Their HR could sometimes be… irritating.” The women laugh. “Sure, they are, mister.”
The interview doesn’t last too long. Because you’ve mentioned your experience working at Son Industries, which is well known in the eyes of the public, it convinces Jimin and Sooin that you’re the right hire. Also, at one point during the interview, it’s decided that the two women will start addressing you as oppa and you will address them casually from this point onwards.
“Oppa,” Sooin says, “are you free today, by any chance?” “You’re not inviting me to a date, are you,” you crack a little joke and are successful in making her laugh. “No, no, no; I’m just thinking that since you’re here, maybe you can start working for half a day—we’ll pay you accordingly, of course.” You nod. “I’m as free as it gets for an unemployed guy.”
Jimin excuses herself and has Sooin brief you on your tasks on your first (partial) day. “The director has a handful of things on his schedule today, so you’ll be following him around.” She hands you a tablet. “I didn’t see you carrying one, so use this, oppa.” You notice that it’s a newer model from the same brand you used to use when working under Wendy. “Alright, I’ll take you to the boss right now.”
Sooin takes you upstairs and knocks on the door for you. “Boss, he’s here.” “Yes, let him in, please,” you hear a woman’s voice from the other side, and the door swings open for you.
“Good—” Your speech is interrupted when you see who the boss is, your eyes wide open because of the shock. “I-is that—” “Leave us, Sooin-ah.” Sooin closes the door behind you, and you can hear her steps fading away. “I-I, erm,” you find it hard to speak right now.
The boss leaves her seat and approaches you, the sound of her heels deafening. “Hi, good morning—is it afternoon yet, actually?” You stay silent, trying your hardest to stay composed and professional. “Took you so long to get here; did you get lost in the way?” You respond by nodding. “Well, at least, you’re here now.”
The boss wraps her arms around your body, sharing her warmth with you. “Welcome back, oppa.” You garner your courage to hug her back. “M-Miss Son,” you say almost in a whisper. You hear a chuckle from her. “You still remember my name, huh?” You nod. “How can I ever forget about you?”
Wendy pulls away from the embrace, and that’s when you see her glassy eyes. “How long have you been away from me, oppa?” “A little over a year,” you answer. “That’s too long, don’t you think?” You nod slightly. “I-I’m sorry.” She shakes her head. “Well, at least you’re here now.”
Wendy invites you to sit on the sofa in her office. “I feel like you have so much to tell me, but I have a lot of work today.” You take a deep breath to clear your mind. “I’m here for you, Miss Son.” She chuckles. “Yeah, and I’m not letting you go ever again, just so we’re clear.”
Wendy returns to her big director chair. “Come here, please; let’s talk about your tasks.” You quickly stand up and sit in front of her for your briefing. “Yes, Miss Son.” Wendy is getting goosebumps; she hasn’t had anyone who is as ready as you are when it comes to work, and she’s struggling to keep a straight face. “Oh my God, I’ve missed this,” she thinks.
-
“Do you mind driving?” You take the key from her and notice that it’s different. “New car, Miss Son?” She sighs. “I totaled the Genesis.” Your eyebrows furrow involuntarily. “You did what?” “Look, I was sleepy, alright—I wasn’t under any influence.” You don’t continue the subject, opting to get in the car and turn it on instead so you can take her to her destination.
You open the back seat door for her, but she declines; she says she’ll sit next to you. “I want to… y’know, be close to you.” You pretend like you don’t notice the subtle blush on her cheeks and simply help her get in the car. “Are we ready, Miss Son?” She nods, her face decorated with a smile. “Yes, we are.”
It is when you’re stopped at a red light that Wendy initiates a conversation. “Oppa, can you share a bit of your story?” You sigh heavily. “I suppose,” you start, “Jiho cheated on me, Miss Son, so I left her.” Wendy falls silent, not expecting such an answer from you. “I caught her having sex with some stranger she claimed she had met the previous night,” you pile on, and you can see on the edge of your vision that Wendy’s face has turned sour. “I’ve moved on now, so don’t worry about my performance at work.”
“She never deserved you.”
You turn your head to look at her. “Excuse me?”
“She never deserved you; I’ve always had a feeling that you were too good for her, oppa.”
You don’t know if you’re offended or not; at one point in your life, Jiho was the best partner you could’ve ever asked for, and a part of you is still hanging on to that, hoping that she’s still the same person you fell in love with, even though you’ve parted ways with her.
“Miss Son, please don’t talk about her like that.”
“Am I wrong, though?”
You exhale deeply. “Miss Son, please.”
“Ugh, fine—forget I said anything.”
“What about you, Miss Son,” you try changing the subject, “did you leave Son Industries?” “Yes and no,” she says, “I’m trying to establish a record label as a subsidiary, but I’ve left my post at Son Industries.” You nod. “I assume you’ve left your old assistant to work under the new director of Son Industries?” Wendy shakes her head. “I never hired another assistant after you left, so whoever is replacing me must bring their own right-hand.”
You see an opportunity to make a joke and lighten the mood a bit. “You learned how to be independent, didn’t you?” Wendy smacks you on the shoulder. “Just so you know, it was so damn rough; I realized I had been relying on you too much.”
-
“Miss Son, we’re here,” you tap her forearm to wake her up, and after a moment of grunting and yawning, she’s awake. “Can I ask what we’re doing here, Miss Son?” “This is—” A yawn interrupts her. “This is a dance studio, and we’re here to look at some trainees.”
You help her get out of the car, and Wendy promptly wraps an arm around yours. “Let’s go find some recruits,” she says, her voice laden with excitement.
There are a man and a woman walking out of the building to greet the two of you. “Miss Son, this way, please; the trainees are waiting for you,” the man says. “They’re skipping school, Mr. Jo?” He chuckles nervously. “Erm, sort of—they said they want to maximize their chances to be recruited, so some skipped school and some others called in sick.”
You and co. enter a practice room that’s filled with a bunch of teenage girls. They greet you repeatedly, and you make sure to reply to each one properly. Based on their sweat-drenched forehead and clothes, you can tell that they’ve been practicing a lot prior to your arrival.
“Girls, this is your future boss, Miss Wendy Son from Son Media Group.” Wendy waves at them, showing kindness so that they don’t get more nervous or scared than they already are. “Miss Son, they’ve prepared a performance for you—please kindly watch them perform.”
You take a seat in front of the girls with Wendy next to you. You notice that each trainee is wearing a name tag, so you quickly write them down on your tablet since she will likely want you to make notes based on her assessments.
Wendy starts getting excited when the song starts playing over the speakers. “She must know this song,” you guess. As time goes by, she keeps making these expressions that you don’t know the meaning of—you can tell that she’s enjoying the moment, though.
Your attention is stolen when Wendy taps your arm repeatedly. “Pay attention,” she whispers to you, so you lock in to the performance.
You push and pull me like gravity
I fall for you, every part of me
You push and pull me like gravity
Insanity
I’m losing my mind
Wendy squeezes your arm, her face bright and beaming, visibly impressed by the performance she’s watching. You look at her from the side, admiring her passion and ever-positive attitude for everything that’s in front of her. “By God, I’ve missed this, Miss Son.”
The cover soon ends, leaving Wendy in awe. You, on the other hand, are not too well-versed in music, but you still clap along with her. “I have good feelings about these girls,” she whispers to you. “I believe your judgment, Miss Son.” She pinches your arm lightly. “You’re such an enabler, aren’t you?” You chuckle. “I mean, it’s not like you’ve dragged us down a pit, is it?”
The guy running the studio asks for Wendy’s attention, but she dismisses him (gently and politely), opting to speak to the girls right away instead. “So, girls,” she begins, “how bad do you want this?” The question has the girls looking at each other in confusion, and it takes a while until one of them dares lift her hand. “I, erm, I want it so bad, miss, b-but I don’t know if I’m good enough.” Wendy smiles, kindness exuding from her face. “If I remember correctly, you did the low register during the chorus, didn’t you?” The girl nods to Wendy’s question. “I personally think you did very well, so don’t sell yourself short like that, especially if you want to debut as an idol.”
The girl looks down to hide her shy grin, and that’s when Wendy shifts her attention to the rest of the trainees. She asks each girl a simple question, nodding to their answers no matter how good or bad they are. “You all need PR training,” she makes a little joke and is met with nervous laughter. “Anyway,” Wendy leaves her seat, “I’ll get going now; I have some other places I need to visit, and I’ll be in touch very soon.”
It's starting to rain quite heavily when you step outside the studio. “C’mon, quick,” Wendy rushes towards the car, so you quickly follow her. “Where do we go now, Miss Son?” “I wanted to grab something to eat, but I guess not—let’s head back to the office for now.”
The rain gets even heavier as you drive through the city, water hitting the roof of your car like punches from the grey skies. “Rain sounds scary sometimes, doesn’t it?” You sigh nervously. “It doesn’t help that I live in an underground apartment.” Wendy furrows her eyebrows. “You do? Why?” “Because I wanted to save money,” you answer plainly. “Yeah, well, you’re going to leave that apartment after this.”
The radio stops its usual broadcast to make room for an emergency announcement. It says that residents should watch out for flash floods considering the suddenness and volume of the rain. You inhale and exhale deeply as you try to stay focused. “I can hear that, you know.” You don’t respond, too busy trying to keep calm and collected. “Oppa, did you hear me?” “Oh, yeah, yeah,” you blurt, “just a bit, erm, nervous.”
Wendy looks at you from the side. “What valuables do you keep at your apartment?” You list the items for her: your passport, cash, important documents, and lastly but definitely as important, clothes. You’d have nothing to wear if they were damaged by a flood, and that would be bad on its own. “Let’s go save your stuff.” “You don’t mind taking a detour?” You ask to make sure, and your assurance comes in the form of her insisting. “Yeah, okay.”
Instead of going straight at the intersection, you make a right turn to head to your apartment. “Don’t kill us,” Wendy warns, getting nervous just by the way you’re zipping through traffic. “Don’t worry, Miss Son,” you assure her. Wendy tightens her grip on the grab handle, not convinced with your words.
You stop on the side of the road and jump out of the car right after it’s stopped. “Oppa, wait!” You hear her, but you ignore her; your mind is focused on saving your valuables from your underground apartment that’s about to drown.
You get nervous when you reach the underground floor that is filled with water as high as your calves. “Oh, hell, no.” You step through the water and stop in front of your unit. After fishing the key out of your back pocket, you push the door open, fighting the force of nature.
The wardrobe is your first destination. You keep your clothes on the top shelves, so they’re not wet in the slightest. “Just grab what you can!” You’re surprised to see that Wendy is also down here with you. “This first!” You pass a small laptop bag that’s full of personal documents over to her before grabbing your clothes and pants. “Let’s get out,” she urges, so you follow her back upstairs to street level.
You shove your belongings into the second row of the car, not worrying about whether the clothes are wrinkled or not; the fact that they’re not drowned is good enough for you. “Goodness me,” Wendy says breathily, “say, how long have you been living there?” “A-about a year,” you reply just as breathily. “You’re not going to live in such a place ever again.” You nod. “I hope so.”
You stay in the car with Wendy until the pants stop. “Drive,” she says. “Where to?” “Just fucking drive, will you?” She doesn’t use profanities very often, and truthfully, you’re surprised and concerned, but that doesn’t stop you from following her orders. “Of course.”
Wendy pulls out her phone and gets on a call with someone. “It’s time—prepare the haven,” she says. The person on the other side of the call must know what to do as the call takes but a few seconds. Oddly enough, you hear the person congratulate Wendy right before she hangs up. “The haven, Miss Son?” She lets out a deep exhale. “You heard me,” she says, “now follow this route.” You see that the car’s head unit has been updated; you’re currently 21 minutes away from your destination. “Yes, Miss Son.”
-
The GPS says that your destination is on your left, and when you look out the window, it’s a typical high-rise apartment building. “We’re here, Miss Son” you notify her. “Yeah, I can see that,” she replies uncharacteristically. “Let’s get out.” She grabs an umbrella from the glovebox and hands it to you, so like a proper chauffeur, you step out of the car and hold the black umbrella for her outside of her door. “
You walk with her into the building, only putting down the umbrella when you’re covered by the big canopy. “Miss Son,” a woman at the front desk greets her, “the haven is ready for use.” Wendy simply puts up a thumb and walks fast towards the elevator, and you make sure that you’re following closely behind her.
Instead of pressing a button to head to a certain level, Wendy places her thumb on the little scanner. “Miss Son, would you kindly elaborate?” She glares at you. “Just shut the fuck up, please.” You gulp to swallow the unease that’s stuck in your throat. “Y-yes, madam.” You keep an eye on the level indicator above the elevator doors as it takes you upstairs beyond the listed floors.
The doors soon slide open, and you find yourself standing in front of a brown door. You want to ask what all of this means, but before you can open your mouth, you’re reminded that she has told you to “shut the fuck up” a minute ago. “Follow me,” she says, so you do just that. Once again, she places her thumb on the scanner below the door handle, and you hear the door unlock. “Follow me,” she says once more as she pushes the door open.
You involuntarily let out a wow; in front of your eyes is a big, fancy penthouse that has everything anyone could possibly need. A full-size kitchen, check; a living room with big sofas and a wallpaper TV, check; a chandelier that costs more than your net worth, check.
“Erm, Miss Son, if I may?” Wendy shakes her head. “Take a seat first,” she says, so you sit down on one of the big armchairs. Once the two of you are ready to talk, you initiate a conversation again. “Miss Son, what is this place, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She smiles a little.
“This is our home.”
You want to shove your fist into your ears and expand them just so you can be sure that you didn’t hear her wrong.
“Pardon me?”
“This is our home, oppa; this is the haven I spoke about.”
You blink, and blink, and blink, and blink—you’re highly unsure if you’re understanding this correctly.
“W-what do you mean this is our home?”
Wendy leaves her seat, opting to make herself comfortable on your lap instead. “From this hour, this minute, and this second, you belong to me, and I belong to you.” “M-Miss Son—” “You’re not tied to that Jiho bitch anymore, but we are tied together.” “M-Miss Son, I—”
A hard slap lands square on your cheek, the sound of the impact echoing throughout the penthouse. “I-I hate—” Wendy starts breaking down. “I-I hate that you left this country f-for that good-for-nothing bitch; I-I hate that you fucking left me, oppa.” You instinctively run your hand along her back softly the same way you used to do it with Jiho whenever she was feeling terrible. “Y-you could’ve stayed here, oppa—fuck, you could’ve married me instead.”
You take a few deep breaths to clear your mind and get a grip on the situation. “Wendy,” you say in a very, very soft tone, “what are you talking about right now?” Still unable to stop crying, Wendy presses her face onto your chest, possibly soaking your only white shirt with her tears. “I-I love you, oppa—I’ve loved you for as long as I’ve known you, b-but… but you loved her.”
You pull her into a tight hug while tears continue to flow out her eyes, and it’s getting really hard to stay solid. You keep rubbing her back mindlessly because your mind is busy imagining what things could’ve been like had you understood her feelings—you could’ve saved yourself from the heartbreak that was catching Jiho cheating.
Wendy lets out a gasp when you lift her by her thighs. “W-what are you doing?” “We’re going to talk, but we’ll get comfortable first.” She hides her face in your chest again after getting an answer. “Okay.”
You let out a chuckle when you see the insides of the bedroom. “I forget how rich you are sometimes.” You hear a small chuckle from the woman in your arms. “I wanted a proper space for us.” “Oh, it’s proper, alright.”
You take a seat on the edge of the bed, and you swear Wendy just let out a purr. “Are you comfortable, love?” She shifts around to make sure she’s as close as she can be to you; her hands are on your nape, and her legs that are locked around your body complete the embrace. “Yes, I am.” “Great,” you reply, “well, here I go.”
Wise men say
Only fools rush in
But I can’t help
Falling in love with you
Confusion is drawn clearly on Wendy’s face, not expecting in the slightest that you’ll sing for her. “What the hell,” she mouths inaudibly.
Shall I stay
Would it be a sin
If I can’t help
Falling in love with you
“Continue,” she mouths once again.
Like a river flows
Surely to the sea
Darling, so it goes
Some things are meant to be
You pause for a moment; to prepare for the next part of the song, you take her hands in yours to capture the emotions.
Take my hand
Take my whole life too
For I can’t help
Falling in love with you
“Goodness me,” Wendy wipes her tears with a smile on her face, “I-I didn’t know you could sing this well.” You chuckle a little. “That’s the only song I can sing.” She laughs. “I fear the man who has practiced one kick ten thousand times, or so they say,” she replies.
Wendy looks at you with a beautiful smile drawn on her face. “Yes, love?” She points at something over her shoulder. “You see that?” You look at what her thumb is pointed at—it’s a mug with random gold seams all over it. “What about it?” “I destroyed that mug after reading your letter, so I sent it to a kintsugi artist and had it repaired.”
You sigh. “Did I hurt you with that letter?” She nods. “It hurt so bad, you know.” You apologize, but she declines. “You promised you’d return, and now you’re here, so it’s all good.” Your gaze lands on the mug with gold stripes again, a manifestation of her mended heart. “I’m here to stay, love, and I hope you are too.” Wendy gives you a peck on the side of your neck. “This is what I’ve been hoping for; I’m not letting this go easily.”
The two of you keep your gazes locked on each other’s. “Help,” she says, “I need a segue.” You chuckle. “Segue to what, love?” “To you taking my flower.” Your eyebrows rise. “Your… flower?” She pinches your cheek. “Don’t play dumb; you know what I’m talking about.” You gently guide her hand off your face. “I just didn’t know you’ve never done it before.” Wendy shrugs. “You never asked, so I never said anything.” You take your turn to pinch her cheek. “You’re my boss—how could I ever ask about such a thing, hm?” A fleeting kiss lands on your lips. “I’m no longer your boss, oppa; from today, you’re my, erm, boyfriend.” You notice the way her cheeks are turning red. “I don’t mean to rush, but I have a feeling that we’ll be more than that.” A sheepish smile appears on her face. “I-I’ll hold you to that.”
You help Wendy lie down in the middle of this huge bed. “Oppa,” she calls to you, “you’re mine, aren’t you?” You answer her by pecking her on the lips. “But I want to hear you say it.” You smile. “My heart belongs to you, but legally, I’m still married to Jiho.” Her face turns sour. “I don’t want to hear that name.” You slap yourself internally for being careless with your words. “Sorry, love,” you clear your throat, “yes, I’m yours.”
Her face is adorned with a beautiful smile.
“Then take me.”
You reach for the first button on her shirt, and that’s when you notice her fast breaths. “You’re nervous, aren’t you, love?” She nods wordlessly. “I promise I’ll be nice and gentle,” you assure her. Wendy holds your wrists as a gesture of calling a timeout. “Y-you’ll be my first and my last, so please take care of me.” You assure her once more that you’ll prioritize her over yourself before continuing to undo her buttons.
The sight of Wendy’s partially naked being has you breathing rapidly. “You look very good, love” you praise her. She looks away to hide her shyness. “I-I try to stay in good shape—y’know, just in case.” You see an opportunity to mess with her a bit. “Just in case what, sweetheart? Just in case you want to do it with some rich executive?” Wendy lets out a gasp, seemingly offended. “I’m not cheap,” she says. “I know, sweetheart; I was just messing with you.”
The last button of her one-piece dress is finally undone. “Help me take it off, oppa,” she says, so you hold the end of the dress and lift upwards until she’s free. Wendy instinctively covers her breasts and crotch, not used to being exposed in front of a man. “You’ve really never done this before, have you?” She shakes her head, her cheeks painted bright red. “T-this is embarrassing.” You gently pull her arms away and set them on the bed. “You have nothing to be embarrassed for, love.” Wendy still avoids eye contact. “I-i-it’s your turn to u-undress.”
You swiftly take off your shirt, opting to just pull it over your head instead of spending too much time undoing the buttons.
“Look at me, sweetheart.” Her gaze slowly shifts to meet yours. “Y-yes?” “Do you want to take off my pants?” Wendy looks at you nervously. “Erm, I don’t know—should I?” You say that she should only do it if she wants to. Wendy says she wants to try, so you guide her hands towards your belt. “Don’t worry, I’ll cooperate,” you say.
Wendy undoes your belt and follows it up by sliding your zipper downwards. It so happens that the back of her hand touches the underside of your hard-but-constrained cock. “Oh, that’s… erm, hard.” Her candid comment forces a laugh out of you. “And it’s all yours, love.”
You take off your pants so that Wendy has access to your boxers, and without thinking too much, she pulls them down. “Oh my God,” she exclaims, “t-that looks like it’s going to hurt.” You nod. “It will, but we’ll get through it together, love.”
You ask if you can take off Wendy’s panties, and only when you’re given permission that you slide them off. “I-I’ll shave for you next time.” “Oh, don’t worry about it; you’re pretty like this.” “What are you—oh, God, fuck!” Wendy grips the sheets in shock when your finger lands on her nub. “Next time, tell me what you’re about to do, okay?” You chuckle. “Sorry, I forgot you’re inexperienced.”
You make sure you’re right on top of Wendy, shifting here and there to get comfortable. “Love,” you call to her, “are you—” “Yes, I’m ready.” The way she answers before you finish asking tells you that not only is she ready, but she is also eager. “Alright, let’s do it, then.”
Wendy inhales sharply when the tip of your cock touches her sealed entrance. “Wait, wait, wait,” she panics, “c-can I be on top?” From experience, you know that it’s better for a woman to be on top first since she’ll be able to go at it at her own pace. “Of course, love.”
You swap positions with her, lying down on the bed to give her the chance to ride you, and Wendy immediately moves to sit on your lap. “Be careful, love.” She simply nods to your advice as her eyes are locked on your cock that’s pointed straight at the ceiling. “That’s definitely not intimidating at all—that’s a source of pleasure,” she consoles herself.
Wendy plants her hands on your stomach as she aims your cock at her entrance. Her hips slowly descend until the tip pokes her innocence. “T-that’s good, right?” You nod. “You’re alright, baby; take your time.”
Wendy grits her teeth as her pussy is getting stretched by a penis for the very first time. You place your hands on her hips, ready to guide her should she need it. “You’re alright, love,” you repeat. Fueled by your encouragement, she continues making her way down.
“Fuck!”
A curse flies out of her lips, and when you look down, there’s blood dripping down your shaft—dear God, she’s so, so tight, too. Up top, tears are dropping down her plump cheeks, visibly in pain and discomfort. “It hurts, it hurts,” she repeats with shaky voice. “My love, my love,” you call to her, “let me hold you, please.” Wendy lies down on your body, and the sobs become clearer for you to hear. “You’re okay, love; you’re doing so, so well right now.” She nods, her cheek rubbing against yours. “Y-you’re my first, oppa.” You peck her on the cheek. “And you’re my last, my love.”
You’ve been letting Wendy stay in your arms for the past few minutes. “Does it still hurt?” You hear a sniffle from her. “N-not really,” she says, “I-I think it’s starting to feel better.” You try moving your hips upwards, and it relieves you when she lets out a moan. “Was that good?” “Yes,” she replies. You thrust upwards once again, and Wendy lets out another moan. “I-I’m so full, oppa.” It’s a simple comment made in the heat of the moment, but nonetheless, it bloats your ego as proven by your little smirk. “I’m glad I can satisfy you, love.”
You maintain this relaxed pace, your ears filled with her soft moans. “That’s good, isn’t it, love?” “I-it is,” she says. “Do you think you can move by yourself?” “M-maybe.” You help Wendy straighten her posture, and the first thing she looks at is the way you and her are connected. “S-so much blood,” she comments. Your hand reaches towards her face, stroking her cheek softly. “I’m honored to be your first, love.” Wendy smiles amidst the discomfort that’s gradually becoming tolerable. “And I’m happy that you’re my first, because I love you so much.”
With her palms planted on your stomach, Wendy lifts her butt before dropping down again. “Oh, fuck, so big,” she blurts. It is when she picks up the pace that you let go of the controls, letting your head sink into the big pillow. “You’re so tight, love,” you say with your eyes closed, your eyelids too heavy to open. “M-must be the kegel,” she replies. You chuckle. “Perhaps.”
It appears that Wendy has gotten used to having a cock in her judging by how assertive she is now. One thing, though: she looks to be tired and out of breath. You ask if she wants to change position, and she immediately says yes. “Lie down, sweetheart; let me take over.”
With her lying down, you’re now able to look at her freshly deflowered pussy; there’s blood everywhere—some of it even splattered on the insides of her thighs. “I wasn’t even Jiho’s first,” you think. You quickly throw that thought away; this is the least appropriate time to think about anyone else but Wendy.
You take position between her legs, your face hovering closely over hers. “Hi, oppa,” she greets you with a smile. “Hi to you too, my love—having a good time?” She laughs. “I am, now that it doesn’t hurt too much.” You give her a peck on the lips. “Shall we keep going?” She nods, and you waste little time to enter her pussy again. “Oh, yes, just like that.”
Now that you’re on top, you’re able to kiss her as your cock moves in and out of her tightness. “I love you, Wendy.” She shakes her head. “W-Wendy is for work—to you, I’m Seungwan-ie.” As far as you know, there are only a handful of people who have the right to call her by that name, and you’re honored to be one of them. “Of course, love.”
You’ve been maintaining this tempo for a solid period of time, and you can sense that your orgasm is approaching fast. “Love, I won’t last long,” you announce. Wendy responds by nodding. “Make me yours, oppa.” You ask if you can turn up the speed on this final stretch, and Wendy gives you permission to do so.
With every thrust she’s taking, Wendy lets out moans that are like music to your ears. “I love you so much,” you say. “I-I love you too,” she replies. You can feel yourself throbbing in her pussy, so you announce once more that you’re about to finish. “Y-yes, g-give it to me,” she urges.
Right before you start spurting semen into her, you come in for a kiss, aiming to maximize the feelings aspect on her first time. You let out a small grunt into the kiss as semen begins flowing out of your cock and into her pussy. On the other hand, Wendy lets out a long moan. “S-so warm,” she comments. Once every last drop of your cum leaves your cock, you gently pull out of her.
-
You fell asleep at one point during the cuddle, only waking up because Wendy kept tapping your arm. “Was it that good that you fell asleep?” You chuckle. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to leave you alone like that.” Wendy giggles. “You really enjoyed taking my flower, huh?” You give her a peck on the cheek. “Of course.”
You ask if Wendy wants to get cleaned up, and since she says yes, you take her in your arms so that you can help her clean up in the bathroom.
“Where’s the bathroom, by the way?” She points at a closed door next to the bed. “Oh, I thought that was a walk-in closet or something like that.” She slaps you on the chest. “What closet have you seen has a mat in front of it?” You shrug. “I mean, I wouldn’t know, would I?”
You help her take a seat on the toilet since she says she wants to pee. Wendy’s face contorts as she pees, visibly in discomfort. “That hurts, doesn’t it, baby?” She sighs. “It feels weird—it’s like there’s a big hole between my legs.” You offer her some assurance, adding touches for good measure. “Thank you, oppa, seriously.” You put on a gentle smile. “Thank you to you as well, love.”
You guide her towards the shower to continue the process. You take some water in your hand and rub her pussy softly, thus getting some blood on your hand. “That will stop soon, right?” You can hear the concern in her voice. “Yes, it will—don’t worry, though; I’m with you every step of the way.”
You continue to the next step, which is to help her take a bath. “Turn around and place your hands on the wall, please.” Wendy does as you ask, and when you’re busy getting liquid soap on your hands, she teases you by hitting your cock with her butt. “I want to take you like this next time, oppa,” she already has plans for the next session. You laugh. “We’ll see what we can do, love.”
-
You’re lying on your back in this comfortable bed with Wendy in your arms, hugging you from the side. “What is in that head of yours, oppa?” You quickly assemble an answer for her. “To say that I’m happy is a huge understatement, but I am indeed happy.” Wendy gives you a peck on the side of your neck. “If only I could string together words to express my feelings,” she replies. You peck her on the top of her head. “You don’t have to, love; I can feel your love just like this.”
Wendy asks if you can describe what her love feels like. “I don’t care if this sounds cheesy, but it feels like warm sunlight in the morning; it’s so comforting, and it tells you that everything is going to be okay.” She giggles. “Everything is indeed going to be okay, oppa; we’re going to conquer the world together.”
You spoon her when she turns around. “Look at the moon, oppa” she points out the window. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it—imagine sitting in the riverside under this moon.” She sighs deeply. “I haven’t had time to enjoy life, and now that you’re here with me, I think this is a good time to start.” You rub her belly softly. “We’re going to have a good life together, love, so God help me.”
Wendy turns her head to look at you. “Hey, uh, can we do another round?” You burst out laughing. “Yes, but let’s rest for now; you just had your first time.” She pouts. “But I want to do it again.”
You make use of the fact that the two of you are completely naked and plunge into her from behind, thus earning a moan from her. “Oh, yeah, just like that, oppa.” You thrust into her once and get another moan. “Keep going, please,” she urges. “Round two, then?” She nods enthusiastically. “After this, we’re going to do another round.” You chuckle. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, baby.”
#girl group smut#kpop smut#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#male reader#male reader smut#smut#red velvet smut
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we can’t be friends.
a little fake dating situation in which eddie must pretend to be your boyfriend to keep up pretences, but then feelings start to become hazy and now he’s not sure if you could ever be just friends again.
a/n: i’m reading this back and actually not liking it as much as i first did hahahaah but i hope you enjoy!! i just wanted to reiterate my hate for the duffers and the fact that they didn’t give him any other t-shirt other than that dang hellfire one>:(
18+. mdni. smut. mentions of bad parent/s. modern au i guess but it’s hardly mentioned. no use of y/n!
eddie wasn’t expecting to walk in to you so stressed.
it was the usual thursday movie night but you’d answered the door with a green complexion and the look of a deer in headlights.
“what’s wrong?” he perplexes, shutting the door behind him as you continue to pace the living room floor.
you sigh, blinking at him as you stop for a few seconds. you’re contemplating something, sizing him up with your eyes narrowed. it makes him a little unsettled if he’s honest.
“next week, are you free?”
“what?” wondering what the hell that had to do with your nervous exterior.
“are you free?” you press.
“uh.. probably, why?” not an inch of sense in your words.
“you wanna come on vacation with me? i mean- it’s not so much a vacation but a family reunion, but can you come?” chewing on your fingernail.
“when? what? why?” rattling through all of his questions all at once.
you sigh again, frustrated with his lack of understanding, “family reunion, i can’t do it alone eds..” your hands cycle around the air, “josh was supposed to come with me but obviously.. that’s not happening so can you come?”
eddie’s face finally un-scrunches. it all made sense now.
you’d spoken enough about your crazy parents and subsequently just why you’d moved halfway across the country to get away from them to understand why you didn’t want to go on your own.
he’d also been elated when you’d told him that you and josh had broken up. eddie had never liked him, in fact, if were given the chance, he thinks he’d punch him square in the face.
that hadn’t really helped you of course, so he kept it mostly to himself. but if the opportunity were ever to arise, he’d do it. no shame.
“oh, shit, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place?” he laughs, rolling in his eyes in jest as he collapses on the couch.
“i’ve asked everyone.. and i mean, everyone and they couldn’t, i was scared!” your body relaxes, coming to join him on the couch.
“oh thanks,” eddie scoffs, “so i was the last resort?”
“no,” you prod him in the side, “i didn’t think you’d wanna come, that’s all.���
“yeah right,” chuckling as you hand him a beer, “i don’t mind, i’ll suffer for you,” popping the lid off and taking a swig.
“thank you,” you exhale, leaning back against the couch, “really. it means a lot.”
“so what are we doing? skiing? sightseeing?” eddie probes, making himself comfortable.
you scoff, “oh no, it’s at my aunt’s beach house in illinois.. it’s big enough for you to have your own room and shit, you’ll just have to pretend to like craft beer and talk baseball with my dad.”
eddie’s head hits the back of the couch, groaning loudly, “baseball? man, i dunno if i can make it anymore.”
you throw him the dirtiest glare, “you’re not funny.”
despite your words, he falls into a fit of laughter truly not making your scowl any lesser. he knows you appreciate him deep down, given the fact that you hadn’t hit him yet.
-
the drive across indiana isn’t too bad, eddie only wishes he hadn’t let you control the music for the entirety of the journey.
“just..” you exhale, glancing warily over at him from the passenger seat, “just be normal, okay? don’t let them piss you off,” nodding with every word.
“you don’t trust me?” he grins, earning a deathly glare. “i won’t piss them off.. don’t worry,” turning his sarcastic mocking into kindness.
your eyes squeeze shut before you slide out of the door, doubting your choice to bring eddie along.
your parents open the door with a wide smile and their arms extended, pulling you in before looking over at eddie, obviously slightly taken aback with the man at their door.
he offers his hand out, “i’m eddie, nice to meet you sir,” feeling very judged and not at all surprised, not with all your horror stories.
your dad takes his hand, gripping on tight as he eyes him up and down, “so this is the boyfriend,” humming quietly, “it’s good to finally meet you, son.”
eddie freezes, eyes sliding from your parents to you to find you in the exact same position.
boyfriend?
“uh..” you fumble, mouth opening and closing somewhat like a fish, “yes! yes.. this is him,” chuckling nervously.
oh shit.
his week of rest and relaxation was about to become a week of performing and lies.
you watch eddie anxiously, your eyes speaking a thousand words. praying he doesn’t mess up, doesn’t embarrass you in front of them.
“yeah.. yeah, that’s me,” he nods hurriedly, going to shake your mom’s hand, “lovely to meet you.. miss.”
now eddie wasn’t opposed to pretending to be your boyfriend but fuck, really? he needed at least a week to prepare and rehearse, rather than you throwing him into a week of improvisation at a whim.
the literal second the door to your shared bedroom shuts, eddie spins on his heel, jaw clenched with an exasperated expression.
“what the fuck?” he whispers, rather loudly.
“i’m sorry!” you hush back, eyes wide, “i- i.. i didn’t have a choice! fuck, i’m really sorry,” anger turning to regret as you flop onto the bed, head in hands.
well great. now he feels guilty. you’re almost sobbing when he joins you on the bed, pressing his lips together in frustration.
“hey! it’s fine.. it’s fine,” he assures, “shit, it’ll be fun,” bumping his shoulder into yours playfully.
you sniffle pathetically, looking up at him with tearful eyes, “i’m really sorry.. i panicked,” bottom lip wobbling.
god, you look like the reincarnation of bambi.
his heart pangs, guilt wracking his chest for the slight overreaction.
“i know,” nodding slightly, “it’s okay.. it’ll be funny, you know?” he’s not sure that it’ll be anymore funny than it’ll be stressful, but he’s prepared to see this week through.
for you.
-
it’s the little things that make a relationship a relationship. things eddie hadn’t ever considered.
like the seemingly insignificant touches and the casual kisses. all things he now had to meticulously plan and prepare for.
nothing was ever too much. a gentle peck on the cheek or a graze of the knee. things no one would really notice unless you weren’t doing them.
you grab his hand walking to the table for dinner and he almost starts cackling until he remembers, now hoping that his palm wasn’t sweating too much.
that night in bed, you turn to face him, tiny smile creeping onto your face, “i think my cousin likes you, i mean- did you see the look on her face when you walked into dinner?”
eddie lets his phone fall onto his chest, flabbergasted at your suggestion, “what are you talking about?”
you hit his arm, furrowing your brows, “c’mon, she was totally checking you out, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” rolling your eyes in jest.
if he’s honest, he really didn’t notice.
he’d been too preoccupied by you in that damn dress to care about anyone else at the table.
eddie didn’t get to see you dressed up often and the dress was sitting just right, he couldn’t exactly focus on much else.
“oh, are you getting jealous?” he mocks.
you tut, shaking your head, “maybe after we’ve fake-broken up you two can get together.”
“you are jealous,” he laughs, sliding his phone onto the nightstand and settles into bed, “what if i don’t wanna fake-break up?” only half-serious as he says it.
“well then i’ll get a fake-restraining order against you,” poking your tongue out before turning the lamp off. “goodnight, eddie,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you roll over.
there’s a quiet, niggling little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. or maybe it’s his heart speaking.
whatever it is, he doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. at least not right now anyway.
-
eddie supposes that a vacation at your aunt’s beach house would entail seeing you in little clothing but he can’t help the little woah from leaving his mouth when you walk out of the bathroom in a tiny bikini top.
“don’t be fucking weird,” you frown, eyes trailing down to his hot dog swimming trunks.
“i’m not!” he exclaims, still trying to draw his eyes away from your chest, “i’ve just never seen.. them,” eyes widening at your revealing bikini.
your eyes roll to the back of your head, expressing your disgust with a small groan.
the entire day is made significantly harder by your top, or lack thereof. eddie finds his gaze slipping downward and every so often has to remind himself that he’s not actually your boyfriend and he doesn’t have the rights to ogle you.
it’s just hard to focus on a thing your dad says to him when you’re sat in front of him like that.
his limits are tested when your cousin suggests a game of tennis. already calling eddie for her team as you get into position on the opposite side of the court.
perhaps you were right, her unnecessary, constant touching sent alarm bells ringing in his head. not that he’s paying it any mind, too distracted by your chest as you bound around the court.
so much so, he completely misses the ball, letting it bounce off of the court and into a hedge somewhere.
“eddie!” she shrieks, running off to collect the ball.
your eyes lock from over the net, your brows threaded together, “how about we swap teams? you join me,” pointing your finger at his face, gesturing for him to join you, which he does with a smile.
mostly just glad to be away from her wandering hands but also, he gets to prove a point.
“you are jealous,” eddie smirks, hushed tones as he speaks into your ear. you’re so close now, enough to touch.
he wants to.
he wants to so bad.
even if it were just to make your cousin seethe with envy.
“me? never,” smacking your racket gently at his leg, earning a nasty glare from your unhappy cousin who smacks the ball far too harshly towards him.
-
he’s too hot and bothered to do much after such an exciting game of tennis, walking in stride with you as you enter the large house. blabbering away about something or nothing when your mom announces her presence rather loudly.
“oh god,” pulling a face as she eyes your outfit, “you really should coverup sweetie, nobody wants to see that,” cackling away to herself.
eddie’s floored, utterly stunned that she’d ever say something like that, let alone to your face. your despairing expression stabs him in the heart, choking him from the inside out.
“well i do,” grinning at the lady in front of him.
“of course you do, you’re a man,” the older woman sighs, “i think it’s a little disgusting to just.. have everything out there,” gesturing to your chest, “women should have pride in their appearance, you know?”
you blink, chewing the inside of your lip as you nod. shrinking into yourself as you glide up the stairs. in an ideal world, he’d call her a bitch and move on with his life, however, he supposes that probably wouldn’t be wise.
she tuts, shaking her head at the stairs, “she’s always so offended.. can’t say a thing to her.”
eddie bites his tongue, diverting from what he truly wanted to say to offer some mild criticism, “maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all,” shrugging as he flies past her and up the stairs, hot on your trail.
the bedroom’s empty though the en-suite door is closed, a muffled sniff coming from the other side. he hates that she’s made you cry, that she’s capable of even making you feel bad when you had absolutely zero reason to.
his knuckles rap against the door, pressing his cheek to the wood, “it’s me.”
there’s a small scuffle and then the lock clicks though the door remains closed. having to console you after the amazing afternoon you’d had feels wrong.
he creeps inside, closing the door behind him. you’re slouched on the toilet, tears leaking down your warm cheeks. it’s a punch to the gut to see you like this. all those harsh stories you’d recalled to him suddenly made a shit ton of sense.
“you okay?” eddie asks, the answer already overwhelmingly obvious.
“yeah,” you sigh, wiping your sodden cheeks, sniffling for good measure.
“you shouldn’t listen to her,” he affirms, perching on the bathtub, “don’t let her upset you.. it’s not worth it,” although his words probably fall on deaf ears, you already know this.
“i know..” staring up at him with your puppy dog eyes, “i’m sorry, she just.. ugh,” snarling your lip, “she knows how to make me feel like shit.”
“what the hell are you apologising to me for?” eddie jokes, poking you in the arm, “she’s just jealous,” choosing wisely where to go from here, “she doesn’t look as good as you do and she doesn’t like that.”
his words crack a tiny smile on your lips, mission accomplished.
“thanks,” you nod, “i mean that. thank you for even coming with me.. i couldn’t do it without you.”
his heart swells a little, or a lot really.
this is a dangerous game, he thinks. wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.. blur the boundaries a little more.
how much more blurred could they possibly get before eddie had to admit to his feelings?
he’s not sure he wants to find out.
-
on reflection, it had been a pretty good week. at least eddie thinks so, pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t exactly normal or anything he’d ever pictured himself doing. but he’s enjoyed it nonetheless.
despite a new found, deep hatred for your mother, he doesn’t think the rest of your family were that bad. willing to volunteer for any other vacations you might be forced to drag him on.
nowhere near as testing as he once thought it would be. in reality, the hardest part about it all was that he had to go home alone tomorrow.
as both of you lounge on the bed, the tv prattling on in the background, he smiles, gently elbowing you in the side.
“y’know this week has been fun,” reminiscing on all the stupid things he’s had to do to sell this story.
one night, you had helped yourself to a little too much wine. stumbling all over the vast garden as your family watched on in horror. so eddie did what any good boyfriend would do and slung you over his shoulder, giggling into his back as he manoeuvred his way up to your room.
not only the public displays of affection come back to him, but also the seemingly minuscule ones. where only you were involved. sneaky laughs and glances that only the two of you could understand.
“mhm,” you hum, sliding your bookmark into your book, “it has, thank you for doing this,” before leaning over to place your book onto the bedside table.
“i’ve enjoyed it,” he meets your eye, that same uncomfortable fluttering starts again in his chest, “being your ‘boyfriend’ i mean.”
you shuffle, turning to face him properly, “well.. i’ve enjoyed being your girlfriend,” lips twitching into a smile.
there’s something in the silence, a tension that feels ready to burst.
eddie does something he might live to regret, something so idiotic and foolish that put your entire friendship at risk.
he leans forward, hastily connecting your lips in what must be the world’s most awkward kiss.
you hesitate for too long of a moment, jerking your head back to stare into his eyes.
he’s done it. he’s ruined the single best thing he had left.
an apology begins to form on his tongue but your lips silence him, your hand finding his cheek to bring him closer. eddie’s eyes fall shut, slowly accepting this, that you wanted it too.
he repositions himself, at your mercy as you tug on his hair, now hovering above your body, elbows sinking into the mattress.
he can feel you now, your chest brushing against his, the way your heart rate seems to match his, thumping away in your chest.
“we should.. we should stop,” eddie pulls away, breathlessly panting with your lips still tracing over one another.
“no.. no,” you shake your head, your eyes shiny and full of something he can’t place.
“what?”
“kiss me again,” you demand.
he’s not quite certain he’s hearing you right. fear had forced him to tear himself away but now you were asking for him to do it again?
eddie falters for a second too long, forcing you into kissing him, smashing your lips to his as your fingers scramble to find the back of his neck under his hair.
oh my god oh my god oh my god.
your entire family are in this house and he’s going to desecrate this innocent bed with you, his fake-girlfriend.
he feels your knee slide up his thigh, allowing him more space between your legs. now it’s more than just your chests meshed together, his poor sweatpants tightening with every slight buck of your hips. blood rushing to his cock as you gasp and sigh into his mouth.
he has to pull himself back into the room when your hand slides from his neck to his crotch, lightly tracing over his throbbing cock.
making out could be easily laughed off but this- this was serious.
“you.. you wanna do this?” he asks, gasping for breath as you continue to kiss at the side of his mouth.
“i want to do this,” you reaffirm, dipping your hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out a hoarse groan from his throat.
your hand wraps around the base of his cock, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw.
his eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open as you start pumping your fist, thumb circling his leaking tip.
“oh my god,” eddie breathes, jolting his hips into your fist.
this entire week he had been internalising all of these intrusive thoughts and feelings about you and now it felt like he might genuinely cum all over your hand, not even five minutes into this.
it doesn’t at all help when you’re panting and writhing around underneath him, delicate fingers making him feel like he’s flying.
“f-fuck,” he stutters, grabbing your forearm, “you have to stop,” regaining just enough composure to reopen his eyes.
“why?” concern rippling through your voice.
now he falters, gazing into your lust filled eyes, pupils all blown out and crazy. it would be despicable if he were to divulge his embarrassing secret to you.
so he takes your arm, pinning it above your head before starting his descent, a paper chain of kisses and light grazings down your neck and chest.
it’s entirely too intimate for just friends, fake relationship or not.
“oh,” you sigh, head rolling back onto the pillow.
eddie has control now, regaining power without a damn clue of what to do with it. your shorts come down with his free hand with a little help from you, your ankle now comes to rest on his shoulder.
he should feel stronger than he does, rather more intimidated and fearful that he’s going to disappoint.
“please..” you pout, “please touch me,” he wonders if you can sense his anxiety.
he lets go of his grip on your wrist, trailing down your quivering body until he meets your lower stomach. this new position allows him access to your heat, wet and waiting for him.
“shit,” he mutters, sliding a solitary finger between your slick folds, watching as your chest heaves in response. “you’re so pretty,” he can’t help but blurt out.
“shut up and touch me,” you snap, chasing his touch with your hips.
eddie’s not going to deprive you of that now, is he?
circling around your clit, noting the way you groan and grab onto his arm. not that he thinks that there’ll ever be a second time for this.
your eager hands grab at his sweatpants, hoping that that’ll be enough of a hint.
he’s not going to last long, that’s for certain.
fed up with his stalling, you tug his sweatpants down, aiding him in sliding them off and onto the floor with a muffled thump.
your arms fan out across the mattress, glancing down at the minimal space between your bodies and then back into his eyes.
his entire body shudders as he slides into your eager cunt, bumbling through all of the profanity in his vocabulary. watching as your jaw falls slack, wary that you couldn’t make too much noise.
perhaps it was the fact that he’d been brushing off any even slightly sexual thought for an entire week or maybe it was just true but eddie swears that no one had ever felt this good before.
“fuck,” he wails, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft, mailable flesh of your hip.
just the way you grip onto the blanket makes him dizzy, letting his eyesight go hazy, a blurred picture of you sprawled underneath him.
the pleasure is insurmountable, something snapping in his stomach when your hand reaches out for him, gripping onto his forearm.
“eds,” you gasp, just loud enough over his barely contained grunts, “more,” sickening eyes doing all the work for you.
there’s not much more of him left to give, already nudging against your soft spot, repositioning your calf higher on his shoulder to allow him deeper, receiving a sweet whimper in return.
“yeah,” you pant, over and over, fingernails latching onto his skin. his arms start to shake, still holding himself up over you as his orgasm begins to catch up with him.
“shit.. i don’t- i don’t think..” eddie swallows, struggling to stay composed as you tighten around him, looking up at him through batting eyelashes.
it makes his stomach twist, barely able to move as his high comes crashing down, overtaking his senses, sweaty bodies colliding as he collapses on top of you.
“oh shit.. oh my god,” he whines, release painting your thigh, the sheet and even your fucking t-shirt.
he’s not ready for a child but he’s certain that’d have been worth it.
eddie glances at you, subsequently moving from your body onto the mattress. the entire high he had been feeling comes tumbling down, now faced with the reality that you were no longer just friends.
the ceiling becomes incredibly interesting, both of you avoiding eye contact as the silence somehow grows louder.
for a room that was just full of lewd, filthy noises, it sure is quiet now.
the blanket rustles and eddie dares a peek, you stand at the edge of the bed, disheveled and still slightly flustered.
you look down at the stain he had left, tutting quietly, “thanks a lot.. gonna have to change now,” adding a soft chuckle.
“sorry.. cheaper than a baby though,” adding to your banter, it’s indescribable the relief he feels.
eddie watches as you rummage around in your suitcase, no longer shying away as you pull your shirt over your head, shimmying into your clean clothes.
when you rejoin him in bed, the tension is mostly gone, the lamp clicking off, encompassing the room in total and utter darkness.
there’s a further moment of silence wherein eddie isn’t sure if he should bolt and hide or embarrass himself further and say something stupid.
something- someone, brushes against his ribcage as you shuffle, your hand coming to rest on his stomach.
there’s not a word exchanged between you but eddie takes the hint, sliding your hand further over his midriff. it’s a pathetic attempt at cuddling but it makes him flutter all the same.
-
eddie wakes up sprawled face first across the bed, blinking at the bright light, not a trace of you in the room.
he fucked up. he fucked up so bad that you’ve decided to find your own way home and left him here.
shit.
he clambers out of bed, pulling his hastily discarded sweatpants back on, remembering every last detail of your night last night.
the guilt comes in waves, and then embarrassment and shame jump in to make it worse.
years of friendship down the drain and for what?
he just about builds enough courage to leave the room and venture downstairs, creeping out onto the hall when you come bounding up the stairs, meeting him in the cramped corridor.
“hi,” smiling coyly, playing the oblivious game.
“hey,” he nods, reciprocating the smile.
nothing was ruined. you’re fine.
“i was just coming to wake you..breakfast’s ready,” you fiddle with your thumbs, a completely different version of yourself than the one he saw last night.
“oh good,” eddie blinks, “i’m starving,” wanting to smash his palm into his face the second the words come out.
“great!” you exclaim, the painful cringe coming through on your face too.
the two of you walk down the stairs in silence, sitting at the table with a small knowing glance.
this house is huge. he’s sure no one else would’ve heard.
he’s midway through his coffee when your dad leans across the table, probing the two of you, “so, will you be trying for kids anytime soon?”
eddie damn near chokes on the searing hot liquid, coughing his gulp back up into the mug, combatting the burning sensation travelling down his throat and also up into his cheeks.
why would he ask that? over breakfast no less.
“uh no.. nope,” you answer for him, thankfully.
“that’s a shame,” your father stands from the table, sliding his plate into the soapy water before making his way over to eddie, clapping him on the back, “you’re gonna have to make an honest woman outta her first son,” before shuffling off into the living room.
he wants to die. in fact, he’d much rather the ground open up and swallow the two of you alive than to be sat at this breakfast table.
judging by the look on your face, you share the sentiment.
-
he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you.
he’s just not sure when or how. it’d be unfair for him to unload his feelings unto you at the beginning of the journey, not to mention also extremely inconvenient if you didn’t feel the same.
but then he’s also acutely aware that if he doesn’t force those words out soon, that they may never come out.
he’s just finished loading your bags into the back of his van, admittedly a little sad to be leaving.
it’s like, he could no longer pretend that what was going on was real. that last night might’ve just been a mistake and you want to cut ties here.
your phone blares from your hand, holding up a finger as you walk away to take the call.
eddie rehearses what he’s going to say to you. well, tries to.
i think you’re super cool, how about i become your boyfriend for real?
he cringes at the thought of it, it wasn’t really the declaration of love that you deserved.
the door opening startles him, your demeanour had done a complete one eighty, your shoulders slumped as you slide into the seat in silence.
“you all good?” eddie asks, wondering what had changed in such a short time.
“uh.. yeah.”
“y’sure?” he probes, not entirely convinced by your change in attitude.
“that was josh,” you swallow, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen, “he wants to see me when i’m back.. to talk.”
“oh,” he replies flatly, “wow okay.”
the life he had dreamed slowly crumbled before him, it was foolish to think that you’d just want to settle down with him now. he’d gotten ahead of himself and now had to reap the consequences.
“yeah..”
eddie doesn’t utter another word, instead, turning the key and starting the long, painful drive home.
maybe he’ll throw himself out of the van on the interstate. punishment for letting himself even slightly believe that you’d be interested in him too.
-
josh is waiting outside of your building when eddie pulls up, smug grin in tow.
tempted to just keep driving, smash into the side of his expensive shiny car and then reverse over his spindly little body.
that doesn’t happen of course.
instead, eddie keeps his head ducked low, muttering a low see you later before you clamber out. there’s so much left unsaid, even a complete idiot could see that.
he doesn’t watch as you walk over to your ex, certainly doesn’t want to see how his hands meet the small of your back and the way you seem to relax into his touch.
not a chance.
it’s eating him alive. even with the windows rolled down entirely, he’s sweating. as if it’s gnawing at his skin, trying to find a way out.
fuckfuckfuck.
tyres screech along the tarmac, his hands shaking as he turns the wheel. something otherworldly and dangerous overtakes his senses as he tears off back down the same road he’d just traveled.
and maybe he’d regret it and maybe it’d ruin your friendship forever but this week couldn’t have been for nothing.
you had to at least know.
eddie’s palms are wet, holding onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. he doesn’t recall the journey to your apartment being so fucking long but he feels like he’s in this stuffy van for an eternity.
the moment he pulls onto that familiar street, bile rises in his throat.
maybe josh would have sweet talked his way back into your life and he’d get his ass beat. or maybe you’d laugh him out of there, telling him to never contact you again.
he supposes that there’s not much left to lose now.
eddie hops out of his van without so much as a look back, bounding up the short path as the door swings open, nearly knocking him for six.
“eddie,” you remark, phone gripped in your hand. your jaw hangs open, what looks like tears stain your cheeks. “i was trying to call you.”
frankly, he’s still out of breath from the exhilaration of it all, struggling to find his words as he stares gormless at you, “my phone’s dead.. i didn’t- didn’t know.. what’s wrong?” mind immediately jumping to josh.
what had he done?
“nonono.. nothing’s wrong, i just..” you trail off, your gaze not once breaking, “why are you here?”
eddie’s mind goes blank, why was he here?
to tell you that he thinks he’s in love with you? he can’t say that.
“you.. left something- in the van.”
idiot.
total fucking fool.
“oh!” swallowing the shock of his arrival, “what? what is it?”
why are you both dancing around this? he’s sure you feel it too. maybe. that could be the adrenaline speaking.
“nothing.. you didn’t leave anything- i don’t know why i said that.” shaking his head, if he weren’t so nervous, he’d have been crippled with embarrassment. “look, i have to tell you something,” biding his time, hoping your crazed ex won’t pop out of a bush and pummel his head into the ground.
“eddie..” you start, that solemn tone he was dreading to hear.
“no, let me say it,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “i need to s-“
“-eddie,” cutting him off mid-sentence, bounding up to him with your arms extended, throwing them around his neck as you press your lips to his.
it’s almost enough force to knock him on his ass, his hands coming to meet your waist in an attempt to stabilise both of you.
you pull away, lips still pouted slightly, “sorry.. what were you gonna say?”
eddie can’t recall a word of the speech he’d halfheartedly rehearsed. “well shit.. doesn’t matter now,” once again pressing his lips to yours, swaying in the evening breeze as everything seems to fall into place.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x you#eddie munson smut#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson one shot#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fic#eddie munson x female reader
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Okay for the birds. Since you asked so nicely. (And because I am on my knees BEGGING for crumbs of this!!!) How would they react to reader living in a run down apartment? Like it takes a lot of money to keep a studio going, even with such... passionate attendees. Yeah they spoil reader at the studio, but what about seeing reader out and about? At home, out shopping?
For Scarlet Macaw Bird Hybrids the colony keeps coming at you like they’re vultures. They’re greedy for your cum, needy for the tight clench of your fat cunt milking their cocks dry, desperate for your cries of pleasure and who can force them out of you, and they crave the feel of your pliable flesh in their loving hands as they take you over and over again.
They’ve all lost themselves in you, as if you’ve pulled a veil of lust over their eyes and they are nothing but mindless machines set for your pleasure. It’s all they want. To feel that deep connection with you, their precious mate.
One after the other they fuck you dumb, bringing you release after release. Even as your body grows more tired they can see the need in your eyes and they won’t stop until their mate is fully satisfied.
As your next orgasm crashes into you, your eyes roll back, your body no longer having the strength to fully seize and shudder with the sheer force of your pleasure.
Your mates currently taking care of you each unload a hefty amount of cum inside your gushing walls. It isn’t until they slip out of you to lightly peck kisses along your face that they realized they fucked you till you passed out.
All the bird hybrids coo at you in worry, their wings flapping as they surround your plush fucked out form. All limp and beautiful. Their hands lovingly caress every inch of your body, making sure you’re alright.
“I’ll take her to her human apartment. Make sure she gets there safe,” one of the bird hybrids speak up.
Instantly a chorus of over bird hybrids chirp out their disagreement. All of them wanting to be the one who takes you home and tucks you into bed. Anything just to be with you for a little bit longer and to take care of you. But the first bird hybrid stands his ground and insists.
Taking you into his arms he begins to fly you home. You had never shown any of the bird hybrids in the colony where you lived but a few started following you home after your night class with them and soon after everyone knew where you lived and would follow you to make sure you got home safe after that class.
Silly humans would call it stalking. But they were only looking after you! They made sure you never got hurt and hurt anyone who dared try.
You didn’t live in a very good neighborhood after all, putting most of your money into your studio, so they had to take care of you. Even if that meant scaring off anyone who looked at you funny or with any interest.
But none of the birds had ever been inside your apartment before. As the bird hybrid uses your key to enter, his eyes widen in horror at the sight of your run down apartment. Their mate could not live like this. Not under their watch.
After tucking you into bed, the bird hybrid gets out his phone and enters their colony group chat dedicated specifically to talking about you.
“OUR MATE IS LIVING IN SHAMBLES!” The bird hybrid texts into the chat to convey his panic. Seconds later and the group chat is blowing up.
“I knew we didn't pay ‘nough for her classes!"
"Should demand she raise them…"
"Do dance teachers get random bonuses?"
“Would she feel insulted if we gave her money at the end of classes after we’ve fucked her raw?”
“Not if she’s too blissed out to notice us slipping the money in her bag.”
“Nah, she wouldn’t like. I think the humans call it Pros— Pollution? Or Hook— something to do with fishing, I don’t know. It’s not a good idea.”
“That’s not the point! What are we going to do about this? We can’t allow this to continue,” the bird hybrid types, interrupting their rambling.
“Could always take her back to the nest…” one hybrid suggests. He thinks about it for a moment before he shakes his head.
“An idea for another day. She wouldn’t go for it now. We need to fix up her place until she’s ready.” The bird hybrid with you concludes.
As you sleep the bird hybrid plans for everything. He sends for a whole bunch of them to head over to your apartment. A team of them flying around and taking what they need to help fix up your apartment while another team prepares the place for work.
When everyone arrives at your apartment things quickly dissolve into chaos. Of course, all the Bird Hybrids want to see you first sleeping all pretty and fucked out in your bed. The Hybrids at that night class immediately start boasting about how good they fucked you and others immediately raise their voices, pleading their own case.
It’s only when you shift on the bed that the Bird Hybrid that brought you home immediately shushes them.
“Stop, stop, stop! We can’t wake her,” he whispers.
Their eyes all fall back onto you, silently watching your plush figure squirm and settle back on the bed. The small action alone causing them to get a little hard and they have to force themselves not to clamber onto the bed and wake you up.
No, instead they get to work. Upgrading your apartment in every possible way they know how. Cleaning it up and making it into a real home. While also enforcing it and making sure you’re the safest person in the neighborhood.
Creating the near perfect nest. Only second to their own they hope to bring you to someday.
They can’t wait for you to finally wake up. They all imagine the look on your face when you rouse from your slumber to see them all there and your apartment completely changed. But most of all… they can’t wait for the thank you gifts you’re bound to give them all.
You have to break in your new apartment somehow, don’t you?
#monster fucker#monster smut#monster lover#monster lust#exophelia#teratophillia#monster romance#monster fluff#monster fic#monster imagine#monster bf#monster boyfriend#furry nsft#hybrid furry#furry fiction#furry#hybrid smut#hybrid fic#hybrid creature#bird hybrid#werebird#werecreature#x chubby reader#hybrid x reader#monster x chubby reader#monster x reader#monster x human#monster x y/n#monster x you#monster x fem!reader
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mine [rafe cameron]
pairing - rafe cameron x reader
summary - when reader goes to hang out with kiara and sarah, rafe gives her no choice as he tags along. he doesn’t trust kiara’s pogue friends around reader, and his protective side gets the best of him.
warnings - protective!rafe, fighting, violence, blood, cursing, talks of death, angst, hurt/comfort, lowkey unpacking rafe’s trauma 😭
﹒⪩⪨﹒ ﹒⪩⪨﹒ ﹒⪩⪨﹒﹒⪩⪨﹒ ﹒⪩⪨﹒ ﹒⪩⪨﹒ ﹒⪩⪨﹒
Tonight was the bonfire. An annual, summer bonfire that the pogues throw every year. Normally, kooks are never invited. But, Sarah and I are the only exceptions as Kiara’s best friends. Sarah has been integrated into their group even more so, now that she’s with John B.
But as for me, they still—even after almost ten years of being Kiara’s friend—hold distain toward me. It only got worse when I started dating the kook prince, Rafe Cameron.
John B, JJ, and Pope always have something to say about me and dating Rafe only added fuel to their fire.
I don’t care though. Kiara and Sarah are my best friends and these boys that make up this stupid kooks vs. pogues rivalry aren’t getting in the way of that.
I was excited for tonight, picking out my outfit as I stepped out of the steaming bathroom in my towel. That was until my boyfriend made an utterly insane suggestion.
“What time are we leaving?” Rafe asks nonchalantly as he steps into the room, flopping down onto my bed, and staring at the ceiling.
I pause, spinning around, holding a top in my hand, “We?” He props himself up on his elbows, furrowing his eyebrows at me.
“Yeah, we. What you think I’d just be unbothered by you hanging out with those pogues? It’s not like I’m going to stop you from going, that’s your choice, and I have no problems with Kiara. I know you’re best friends. It’s her pogue friends I don’t trust. I’m not gonna sit here on my ass while you’re at the bonfire with JJ fucking you with his eyes from across the beach.” He states, like it was plainly obvious.
I sigh, sitting down next to him on the bed. “Babe, I love you, but is it really the best idea for you to go? You hate them. I don’t want to start anything.”
“Oh, I won’t,” he assures. “Trust me, I’ll keep to myself, sitting next to you, drinking a beer, minding my business. As long as JJ doesn’t try anything.” He shrugs.
“What do you mean? JJ won’t do anything what’re you—“
“Every time we’re around Kiara, he’s there. And his eyes are on you. Or he says something rude to you. I don’t like it. Only I get to look at you like that, you’re my girl. If he so much as looks in your direction, I’ll make sure he knows you’re mine, that’s all.” Rafe explains, leaning down to slip his shoes on.
“Okay fine. But please, Rafe. I’m begging, don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want this night to be ruined, I just wanna hang out with my friends.” I say, nervous about how Rafe’s behavior easily gets out of hand, especially around JJ.
Rafe sits up, putting his hand on my thigh, and looking right in my eyes. “I know—I know I can get carried away sometimes. And I’m sorry, I just—I need to protect what’s mine, okay? They already took my sister from me, there’s no shot I’d ever let them take you from me too. I don’t trust they won’t hurt you, okay? I just need to be there. Just in case, okay?”
I press my lips together, “Okay. Just promise me, don’t start anything.”
He pauses, contemplating, “Unless he does?”
I roll my eyes, “Fine unless he does.”
Rafe smiles, satisfied, “Then, yes. I promise.” He places a kiss on my cheek.
I get up and walk back to the closet, throwing a pair of denim shorts on the bed and two tops, “Which top?” I turn around and look at Rafe.
He inspects both of them. One being a white tube top with pink lily flowers on it, the other being a crochet multi-colored tube top.
“Mhmm, the flower one.”
I smile at him, grabbing the outfit and changing. I slip on my adidas sambas and grab my purse. “Ready?” I ask him. He says nothing, just staring at me.
I step closer to him, waving my hand in front of his face. “Helloooo??” He just chuckles, pushing my hand down, his hands landing on my hips, and pulling me closer.
“Do we have to go?”
I smile, brushing my hands over his buzzed hair, “Yes, Rafe. C’mon, let’s go.”
He groans, resting his head on my stomach. He places small kisses along my stomach, “But if we stay here,” his hand slides back toward my ass. “I could entertain you.”
My cheeks turn pink as I almost give in, but shake back to reality. “No, c’mon. I promised Kie.” I pat my hand on his back as I step away. “Let’s go.”
He groans, standing and coming to my side. He grabs my hand and walks out the bedroom with me, “Fine.”
I chuckle and lean up, placing a kiss on his shoulder as we walk down the stairs. He opens the front door for me and we head to my drive away. He opens the door of his truck and buckles me in before rounding to the drivers side. My music automatically connects every time we get into his car and it always makes me smile.
-
Rafe parks the car as we arrive at the beach, and I spot Kiara and all her friends by the shore, sitting around the fire while the beach is packed with everyone from the cut.
Rafe opens my door for me, grabbing my hand as I hop out of his truck. He shuts the door and rests his hands on my shoulders, looking out to the beach, and letting out a long sigh. “Oh, stop. It’ll be fine, okay, just try to have fun. For me?”
He rolls his eyes, playfully. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just get this over with so I can have you back at Tannyhill tonight all to myself.”
I chuckle, grabbing onto his hand and pulling him down toward the beach. I go to the bonfire, where Kie sits with Sarah.
“Kie!”
She turns around, grinning. She gets up and runs over to me, embracing in a hug. “Oh my god,” she gushes, grabbing onto my shoulders. “It’s been forever.”
Her gaze moves to my right where Rafe stands, rigid and unmoving like some kind of guard dog. “And Rafe,” she grumbles.
“Hello to you too Kie,” He smiles condescendingly.
To try to lessen the tension, I turn to Rafe. “Could you go get me a drink, please?” I widen my eyes at him.
He sighs, nodding before walking off.
“Why is he here?” Sarah asks as I go to sit with her and Kie.
“Trust me, I thought it was a bad idea too, but there was no stopping him.” I shrug. “He won’t start anything, trust me.”
Rafe walks back over to us, handing me my drink. He looks over at Sarah, rolling his eyes. “The pogue princess.”
Sarah scoffs, “Oh shut up.”
Rafe opens his mouth to say something again, but when I shoot him a look, he groans but keeps his words to himself.
As the night goes on, Rafe does exactly as promised. I sit with Kie and Sarah, catching up. While Rafe sits beside me, holding one of my hands in his lap as he fidgets with my rings and bracelets, just counting the seconds till he could take me home.
“Well, y’know John B and I got.. married.”
I whip my head around, “What?! Oh my god?”
She chuckles, “Yeah.. kinda of spur of the moment type thing. Not much thought into it—I’m honestly not sure it’s actually legal either but, yeah.”
“Congra—“ I begin before getting cut off by the one person I was praying would not come over here tonight.
“Y/n, what a surprise.” JJ exclaims, walking over to where we were. “And Cameron. Of course,” he says sarcastically.
I feel Rafe tense next to me, his grip on my hand getting stronger. “Can’t say I’m thrilled to see you either, Maybank.”
“You’re the one on the cut. This is a pogue bonfire. Why the fuck are you even here? And with miss kook princess, over here?” JJ looks over at me, then back at Rafe.
“Rafe,” I warn, looking at him as his jaw clenches and he lets go of my hand.
Rafe stands, facing JJ. “I was willing to leave you alone, as long as you left her alone but clearly, that’s not possible for you.” Rafe pushes at JJ’s chest.
“Stop, Rafe.” Sarah shouts, standing and trying to push JJ away. When her attempts don’t work, she waves over John B.
“Rafe, let’s just go,” I stand, tugging at his hand.
“Yeah,” JJ agrees. “Listen to your bitch and go.”
“What the hell, JJ?” Kie stands, even her agreeing her best friend is being an asshole.
Rafe chuckles, his tongue poking at his cheek as he pulls his hand from my grasp, grabbing onto the collar of his shirt. “The fuck did you just say?”
“I said take your bitch and go.” JJ spits.
Rafe pushes JJ down and he falls onto the sand, Rafe straddling him as he lands punch after punch. “You always gotta start shit,” Rafe says, blood coating his shirt and knuckles.
“JJ he’s not worth it!” John B shouts, finally making his way over. John B attempts to grab Rafe’s shoulders and pull him off but Rafe pushes John B, causing him to stumble back.
“Rafe, what the hell!” Sarah shouts, going to John B’s side.
I go to grab Rafe’s arm, causing him to stop punching JJ, not wanting to accidentally hurt me. When Rafe pauses, JJ takes the chance and flips Rafe over, landing a punch square to his jaw. “Y/n needs to come around without you sometimes. She’s pretty hot for a kook,” JJ chuckles.
At this, Rafe gets his strength and punches JJ in the jaw so hard, JJ falls off of Rafe, landing on his back in the sand. Kiara goes to JJ and I grab Rafe, trying to pull him away as fast as possible. Rafe shakes from my grip one last time and goes to stand over JJ.
“Stop! Let’s just go, c’mon!” I groan, everyone on the beach now circling the bonfire watching this unfold.
“Listen to her Rafe! Get out of here before the cops get here, just leave!” Sarah shouts, her brows furrowed in anger.
“Talk about her again, Maybank. You won’t live to see the next fucking day.” Rafe spits, standing up and walking over to me. He goes to grab my hand but I refuse, walking past him to the truck.
“Y/n!” He shouts, following after me. I lean against the passenger door, waiting for him.
He walks over, slumped over, feeling defeated even though he technically won the fight, he knows he made me upset. He stands in front of me, unlocking the truck with his keys and I turn around, getting in before he could open the door for me, and shutting it without a word.
When he rounds the car and gets in on the drivers side, I turn on the overhead light and grab his jaw, inspecting his face.
His lips is busted open, a bruise already forming around his cheekbone. Blood splattered across his cheek, neck, and shirt. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “But I couldn’t stand there while he said that shit about you.”
“You could’ve let it go and we could’ve just left. I just wanted a normal night to hang out with Kie and now they just have more reason to hate you. And you’re hurt.” I sigh, my thumb gently brushing along his cheekbone.
“No, I couldn’t have. You can be mad at me forever, I don’t care—I’ll always defend you. Even if that means you hate me. I’ll always protect you.” He replies, putting his keys in the engine and starting the car.
I sigh, and lean back, looking out the window. There’s nothing more I could say. When Rafe had his mind set on something, you couldn’t change it. Especially when it came to protecting the people he loved. He’s a naturally protective and territorial person. Nothing can get through his mind when he’s in that violent state, just wanting to protect the people he loves.
After a very silent ride, we arrive back at Tannyhill. Rafe parks in the driveway, pausing before getting out. “Do you want to be here? I can take you home if you don’t want to be around me, I understand—“
“What?” I ask, turning to face him.
“You’re upset. I went too far. I figured you didn’t want to be with me right now.”
“No, Rafe, no,” I sigh, my hand coming to rest on his thigh. “I’m upset at everything that happened but, I’m not mad at you. I think there might’ve been a better way to handle it, but I’m not mad. Let’s just go inside okay? And talk?”
Rafe nods, stepping out of the car and coming to my side, opening the door. My hand finds his as he helps me out and we make our way to the front door.
Quietly, he opens the door to the very empty, quiet, home. Ever since Ward died, I stay over at Rafe’s almost every night. Rafe said he feels lonely at home. Even though Rose and Wheezie still live there, it’s not the same. And tonight, Rose was away on the mainland and Wheezie was staying over at a friend’s house.
Rafe guides me up the stairs, the stairs I’ve walked up countless times. To the familiar route of his room, but I pull him off into the bathroom next to his room.
“What’re you—“
“Shh,” I shush him, patting the counter, indicating him to sit. He sighs, but follows, sitting on the counter patiently.
I reach into the medicine cabinet, pulling out the first aid kit. I grab a wipe, taking away the excess blood so I can clearly see where he’s hurt. I treat his busted lip, Rafe flinching as I put disinfectant on his lips.
“Is it because of your mom?” I ask softly.
He stiffens, and asks, “What do you mean?”
He knows what I mean.
“The overprotectiveness. Is it because of what happened to your mom?” I question.
He sighs, shrugging. “Sort of, I guess. When I was younger I felt like her death was my fault. Ever since then I’ve always wanted to protect what’s mine, everyone close to me. But, it got so.. intensified when we got together. I never protected anyone as strongly as I do with you.”
I nod, staying silent as I inspect his hands. I didn’t speak because, I had a feeling he wasn’t done. Like he had so much more to say. He’s not very good at expressing his emotions. So when he does, I try to give him all the room to vent.
“Does it bother you? Or scare you? I don’t mean to. I just can’t help it. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you and I wasn’t there to defend you. Just like I couldn’t defend my mom, I guess.”
I press my lips together, grabbing the wrap from the kit. “It doesn’t scare me in the way you think. I just don’t want you to go too far one day and do something you’ll regret. Or hurt yourself beyond repair. That’s what scares me.”
He doesn’t say anything, watching silently as I wrap his bruises knuckles. “I just hate him. All of them. They took everything from me. I won’t let them take you. I hate the way they look at you. The way he looks at you. The things they say.” His jaw clenches just thinking about it.
“They don’t know you. They don’t understand how truly selfless and kind you are. They don’t know shit. I hate the way they talk about you. Some friend Kiara is for not fucking defending you either—“ His voice begins to raise.
“Hey, hey. It’s okay.” I sigh, finishing bandaging his hand. “Look let’s just go to bed, okay? It’s been a long night.” I pat his knee and move from between his legs. He slips off the counter and I gently put my hand in his.
He follows me like a lost puppy to his own bedroom.
His room is the polar opposite of mine and it always makes me smile. When he’s in my room, seeing him curled up on my fluffy pink bed, and me in his cold, plain room in my frilly pink pajamas I keep in his dresser. Rafe goes in his closet and finds some clothes to change into while I change into pajamas from my designated drawer in his room.
I sit on his bed as I wait for him, closing my eyes. I hear his footsteps and look over at him, he’s shirtless, in only some basketball shorts. He flicks off his bedside light and gets under the covers.
I scoot closer, resting my head in the crook of his neck. His hand runs gently, up and down my back, the room falling quiet with just our breathing.
“I’m sorry. I’ll try to be better,” He confesses, causing my heart to shatter into a million pieces.
I sigh, looking up at him. I place a kiss on his jaw, smiling into his neck. “It’s okay. I understand now why you do it. You just need to talk to me, yeah? But maybe just try to not beat people up so terribly.” I chuckle, pointing at his bruises.
“Hey, you should see the other guy,” He jokes, grinning down at me.
I smile softly, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Goodnight.”
Rafe smiles, his fingers brushing through my hair. “Goodnight, pretty girl.”
#obx fic#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron fluff#rafe obx#rafe cameron blurb#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#outer banks#outerbanks rafe
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Could I request the other players finding out Isagi and Rin are dating a popular singer?
“You guuuys..! It’s true! I’m really dating [Y/N]!”
“Yeah right.”
“Isagi, do you know that the term ‘catfish’ means?”
“Not you too Nagi!”
Isagi had finally worked up the courage to tell his teammates that he was dating someone. It wasn’t like he was ashamed of [Y/N]. Quite the opposite. Being a popular idol singer, Isagi was very proud of their achievement and who he was dating. Just with their career and his aspiring one, they had to keep their relationship a secret for now. But, he was just so overcome with love for [Y/N] that he had to tell somebody, but nobody believed him! “It really is them you guys!!”
Reo sighed. “Do you really think we’d believe that you were dating a super popular idol? You’ve come up with some hairbrained ideas before, but this one is just too much?”
“Why would I lie about this??”
“Clout.”
“Stop dogpiling on Nagi!”
As if [Y/N] could sense his plight from far away, Isagi’s phone began to ring and he answered it. “Hi~ Isagi-kun!”
“[Y/N]-chan!” He thought he might cry seeing them. Only this time it was out of relief, not joy. “Hey, tell these guys we’re dating please.”
“Isagi! We’re supposed to be keeping this under wraps still!”
“I know, I know. But…it’s just my teammates. They won’t tell.”
“Who would be interested?” Reo muttered. But his tone and expression changed when Isagi flipped around his phone and he saw [Y/N]. “Holy crap, it’s real!”
“Quick. Where are you right now?” Nagi asked as he popped his fluffy white head into the video chat. [Y/N] immediately answered with the touring country they were at and Nagi looked surprised. Or at least as surprised as he could. “Yeah..that tracks.”
“See! I told you.”
“Isaghi.” He heard his name from the phone but did not like the tone. He cautiously turned it back to himself to see [Y/N] looking at him sternly. “I’ll call you later.” Was all they said and hung up the phone.
“Well, you had a famous partner Isagi.”
“Tough luck.”
“You guys are so mean to me!”
“Oi...it's not fair...Rin doesn't even have time for a partner. Much less a cute one...”
“They must schedule dates out in advance around games and his training schedule. They'll probably have their next one in 3 months.”
His teammates all laughed, but Rin didn't care. Besides the fact that they were all irrelevant to him on most days, their opinion on his relationship was even more irrelevant than their usually irrelevance.
Rin continued to work on his stretches. Assuming that his indifference would have them let it go, but when had that ever been the case with this team?
“Oy, Rin?” He turned to Bachira at their question. “How did you and [Y/N] even meet?”
Rin usually didn’t feel nostalgic, but for a moment he let himself remember the past; even if it was only a few months ago. “None of your business.” He told Bachira. Unwilling to share the memory.
The other forward frowned and whined at not giving him an answer. “Come on~! It’s just so interesting! I didn’t think someone like you would be interested in idols.”
Bachira was right (although Rin would never tell him that). He had no interest in idols. He didn’t even know who [Y/N] was when he first met them. It wasn’t their talent or their looks that encouraged Rin to pursue them, but their determination. They wanted to be the best at their craft. They worked hard. Practiced. Trained. It was a passion that Rin could sympathize with when they met at the gym and just started talking one day about their goals. More than that though, he could respect it.
“Come on. Let’s train.”
Bachira whine & pouted again, but Rin didn’t care. He wouldn’t fall behind [Y/N]’s work ethic. He would be stronger, better, the next time they met too. Even if it was 3 months from now.
#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#blue lock#bllk#blue lock smut#bllk smut#rin itoshi#itoshi rin#itoshi rin x reader#itoshi sae#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi x reader smut#itoshi rin smut#blue lock manga#blue lock x reader#blue lock x reader smut#bllk manga#bllk x reader#bllk x you#blue lock x you#bllk isagi#isagi x reader#blue lock isagi#isagi yoichi#isagi x you#yoichi isagi x reader#isagi fluff#blue lock fluff#reo mikage#nagi seishiro#bachira meguru
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talk too much
pairing: glen powell x fem!reader
summary: you’re glen’s makeup artist for twisters and he won’t stop talking
warning: based on that one tiktok of glen getting his makeup done for hit man and his mouth is nonstop moving, kissing, glen being a professional yapper
ੈ✩‧₊˚ working with glen was seriously a dream. he was kind, smart, funny, hard-working. he was everything a man should be and you loved being his makeup artist.
the only downside was his lack of understanding when to shut the hell up.
you loved his stories, you loved hearing about his life, but when you’re trying to perfect his skin prep and makeup, it’s a little difficult to focus when all glen can do is distract you.
“oh, y/n,” glen groaned in disgust turning his head away and wiping at his lip. “you got primer in my mouth.”
and what you wanted to say was, “then shut your damn mouth while my hands are near your lips.” but you didn’t, you just quietly apologized and got back to work. he had to be on set in twenty minutes and you were no where near being done because of glen and his indestructible vocal cords. you and him got into a lot of trouble on set for being late to shoots, but what could you do? tell your boss to be quiet and risk being fired? absolutely not, so you just kept quiet and tried to get his makeup done quickly and as best as you could.
glen was talking away about this dog he wanted to get and you were listening, truly you were, but you were also color correcting the slight bags under his eyes and a few blemishes near his chin. suddenly, glen laughed at something and you smudged concealer all on his bottom lip and down his chin.
“shit!” you cursed, getting a makeup wipe from your desk and carefully wiping away the mess on his face.
“it’s okay.” he said carefully, grabbing the wipe from your hand to wipe it away himself so you could take a break. “you don’t have to rush, y/n.”
“yes i do, you only have,” you checked the small watch on your wrist. “13 minutes until you have to be on set and i haven’t even blended your concealer yet. they’re gonna get rid of me, i just know it.”
“it’s kind of hard for them to get rid of you when you’re my personal makeup artist.” he cockily reminded you. you scowled at his smirking face and took the wipe from his hand. your index finger and thumb held his chin while you gently swiped his bottom lip. glen started to talk again and you sighed in frustration as you had to concentrate even harder to not get the wipe into his moving mouth. “i don’t quite like the taste of makeup remover, babe.”
“then shut the fuck up!” you finally lost it. you finally snapped at the nicest man on earth and you immediately stepped back. “i’m so sorry, glen.”
“it’s okay.” he said, reaching for your hand. “you know, you can tell me you need me to close my lips. i just get so nervous around you, my mouth goes a thousand miles a minute.”
you perked up immediately. glen doesn’t get nervous around anyone. why would he get nervous around you? before you could speak, glen beat you to it, as usual.
“i hired you on personally because i think you’re seriously talented, first of all, but also because you’re the most beautiful, kind, and caring girl i’ve ever met.” he turned to you in his swivel chair. “and it’s okay if you don’t want me back, i completely understand and i’ll never, ever, ever bring it up again, but please don’t quit. i couldn’t take losing you as a friend, y/n. i wouldn’t even know what to do-”
you don’t why you did it. maybe it was because you were annoyed at his ramblings, or perhaps it was because you realized you had always liked him too, ever since you got put on your first job with glen, years ago. but you leaned and captured your lips with his. glen reacted immediately, bringing you closer to him by your hips. your hands went into his hair and you’re sure you were probably messing up almost all the work you had just tried so hard to finish, but you didn’t care.
as you felt glen’s hands round your ass, you pulled back slightly breathless with a smile on your face. “you talk too much.”
“well, put your lips on mine and shut me up.”
#Spotify#glen powell smut#glen powell imagine#glen powell#twisters#anyone but you#top gun maverick#hit man#set it up#richard linklater#twisters movie#daisy edgar jones#tiktok#professional yapper
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I don’t see any rules for what you do and don’t write but I’m thinking ghostface/stalker Mattheo Riddle, Theodore Nott or Tom Riddle
Yesssss, I love Scream! Let me know if you guys want more of this with the other boys or more of Mattheo!
My Princess
Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader
Warnings: Stalking, killing, Ghostface, mention of assault
Don't read if this stuff bothers you!
There’s been reportings of a murderer in your area. One who donned a mask. ‘Ghostface’ is what they started calling him.
It was scary, trying to live with a serial killer nearby, who could be anyone since no one saw their face.
The killings seemed random at first. No pattern, no specific target demographic, no connections to each other.
Then, unfortunately or fortunately for you, he killed your cheating ex. And your old bully. And that one teacher who seemed like he had it out for you.
It got scarier for you. Seeing so many people who had connections to you being killed.
Only, it got worse when, the day after the murders, little boxes appeared at your door with an item from the victims and flowers. Each time, you called the cops, but they would make a report and leave, saying they can’t really do anything else.
It was frustrating and terrifying. You invested in a doorbell camera, hoping to catch whoever it was leaving these on your doorstep. But they didn’t show up again. Not at your door, at least.
Next was a box on your bed in your room, this one just filled with flowers and jewelry. As soon as you saw it, you got chills and a gut-wrenching feeling knowing they were in your room.
You called the cops again, but since there was no footage or DNA left behind, all they could do was make another report.
They started leaving notes now. Telling you how pretty you are, how sweet you are, how much he adores you and is obsessed with you. Again, cops won’t do anything, no DNA or footage.
You set a camera up in your room to catch them. You caught them when you were at work, but they were in a Ghostface mask and waved at your camera. They left a note on your bed and left. That was all they did that you caught on camera. You stopped sleeping at your place, waiting for the lease to end in a few months. Your friends let you crash at their place until the notes and gifts started showing up there. You had to go back to your place since no one wanted to let you in theirs with fear they’d show up.
They promised to never hurt you, they were protecting you, they were keeping you safe from everyone who ever hurt you or plans to hurt you.
You heard about a co-worker that was killed one day at work, and the next day, you see papers of screenshots printed out from the co-worker talking about what he wanted to do to you, how he was planning on asking you out to a bar and assaulting you. That made you feel sick. But now you were starting to see this stalker was telling the truth. Maybe they were protecting you.
You still kept the cameras up and bought some weapons for your place, even a handgun.
“You don’t need all this protection, princess. I’ll always protect you.” That was on a note left on your bed, but they left all your weapons alone.
You finally had enough of the cops not doing anything, of no one helping you, of not feeling safe anymore. Whoever this was wasn’t hurting you, just being creepy. You wrote notes back to them, asking who they were and why they kept stalking you.
“Stalking? No, I’m protecting you.” They would write back. “I wouldn’t do anything to harm you. You’re precious to me. I love you.”
It really didn’t help the creepiness, but at least you were finally talking to them. You were hoping to gain their trust and meet them, hopefully kill them.
“You wanna meet me, princess? It’s tempting. But I wouldn’t want you to do something irrational.” They wrote back. “Do you trust me?”
You wanted to say ‘no’ but you couldn’t. Not if you wanted to meet them.
So you said ‘yes’ and the notes stopped. You thought you scared them away maybe. Maybe they thought it was too much to meet you.
Until a few days later, you had just gotten back from work. It was a Friday night and you sat at your counter in the kitchen, drinking wine, trying to calm your nerves from everything. You were always on edge nowadays and needed something to help with it. You were tipsy at this point, just eating and drinking as you let yourself relax.
Then you saw a figure emerge from the hallway to stand on the other side of the counter from you, wearing all black and the Ghostface mask.
You panicked and tried running, but your stalker was faster. They grabbed your wrist and pulled you back to them, grabbing your other wrist as well to keep you from running.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, princess.” A male voice said behind the mask. “You wanted to meet. I’m here.”
You were still panicking, but stopped fighting him. You stared at the mask. Fear took over your body again when you remembered he didn’t just stalk you, but also killed people and you kicked him and took off running again when he let go, running towards your room since that was closest. He ran after you, blocking the door before you could close it.
“Please, I don’t want any of this. I-” You broke into sobs as you backed away.
“No, no , no, princess. I won’t hurt you. I promise. You’re the most important thing in my life.” He said, closing the door behind him as he spoke softly.
“Why do you do this?” You asked with a shaky voice.
“To protect you. No one will ever hurt you, baby.” He was walking closer and you backed up until you hit the wall.
“Who are you?” You asked, still crying from fear.
He took off his mask to reveal someone you worked with. The co-worker your dead co-worker was messaging about you with.
“Mattheo?” You said with a confused look.
“I just wanted to protect you. To keep you safe from all the evil in the world. You don’t deserve any of that.” He was still speaking softly as he stepped in front of you.
“You killed people.” You whispered.
“People who hurt you. I couldn’t let them live after hurting you.” He said, touching your arm softly and you flinched.
“They didn’t deserve that.”
“They did. You’re perfect. No one should ever hurt you or make you feel bad again.” He moved his other hand to your hair. “I’ve been dreaming about touching you for so long.” His voice was quiet. As much as you feared him, his touch was reverent, like he was savoring every touch of your skin.
“Why did you break into my house?” You asked quietly, meeting his eyes.
“You put the camera up. I wasn’t ready to be caught just yet.” He said with a small smile, trailing his hand up and down your arm, his other hand running through your hair gently.
“We work together. Why didn’t you just talk to me if you felt this way?”
“I was too nervous. You’re perfect. You’re so pretty and funny and sweet and I couldn’t stand the thought of you rejecting me.” His hand on your arm moved up to cup your cheek. “Would you reject me now?”
You shook your head. “No. I wouldn’t.” You said, but you were still terrified.
He smiled. “Can I kiss you?”
You nodded, hoping if you played along, you could get away at some point.
He leaned in and kissed you gently, timidly. He was nervous. You kissed back, trying to think of a way out of this. It was hard to think when he was kissing you so sweetly.
He broke the kiss and looked at your face. “Your lips are softer than I ever imagined.” He smiled again, brushing his thumb along your cheek. “You’re mine now, yeah?”
“Yes.” You nodded.
“My princess. All mine now.” He said before kissing you again.
Now that you were in his hands, he wasn’t letting you go.
Taglist:
@jeannie-beannie @yourenogoodforme @mixvchelle @helendeath @ireallyneed-somesleep @soaked4abby @hpnsfwaddict
Let me know if you wanna be added!
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Hello dear, i dont know if your tired of young sheldon requests but if you are im so sorry, i promise that for future requests it will be another fandom. But i was just thinking about georgie with a female reader where she is very protective over missy and makes sure she is not forgotten or less than sheldon, which george finds very cute.
Thank you so much
𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐒𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭
𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘈 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘥.
𝙏𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚: 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘎𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘉𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥’𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺
𝙏𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘍𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧
𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 600
𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
“Y/N, do you think I can join the baseball team?” Missy asked with an insecure look on her face. She’s been meaning to join the baseball team for some time and was about to talk to her father about this, but then she decided to consult Y/N first.
Y/N stopped putting nail polish on the younger girl’s feet to look at her. Missy, although she may always seem fierce, doesn’t change the fact that she’s still a little girl who sometimes doesn't get that much attention from her parents. The attention most of the time is to scold her.
Don’t get Y/N wrong; Mary and George are great parents, but a lot of the time, they don’t have much trust in Missy and Georgie, and for good reasons too since most of the time, the two of them have been troublemakers. However, that doesn't change the fact that they feel inferior to Sheldon due to how their parents treat him. It has always been Sheldon who gets most of the attention.
“I think if that coach won’t let you in the team, I’ll go there myself and give him a piece of my mind.” Y/N finished polishing Missy’s nails, looking proud as ever seeing the girl’s beaming smile. “You are great with the sport, and if he can’t see that, then that old guy must be having some sight problems.”
Missy teared up at her words. She has always treated Y/N like a sister, even before Georgie and she started dating. Y/N always had Missy’s back, when Mary praised Sheldon or when George made comments about Georgie and Missy being less than Sheldon.
Missy doesn’t have a team. Not until Y/N came.
“You always are so kind to me.” Missy sniffled, causing Y/N to coo at her, bringing the crying girl into her arms. “Thank you for being here with me when I need you. You’re my team.”
Y/N pulled away from the hug to wipe the girl’s tears away, giving her a warm smile. She then stood up and grabbed a baseball bat before throwing the ball softly at Missy’s bed. “How about you and I play some ball before you go to your tryouts?”
The two girls didn’t notice that Georgie was at the doorway, leaning, "Well, aren’t you two sweet?”
Missy and Y/N turned at Georgie, the former standing up from her bed and grabbing the ball before running outside her room shouting, “Come on, Y/N!”
Y/N laughed at the girl’s enthusiasm, then turned to her boyfriend, who was smiling at her, and asked, “What is it?”
Georgie shook his head, standing up straight and walking toward the girl, who had a baseball bat on her shoulder and a hand on her waist. Georgie, at this point, decided that he was deeply in love with her. “Nothing.” He put his hands on her waist. “I just love how you’re always there for my sister; you have always protected her, and I love you for it.”
The boy kissed his girl’s cheek, noticing the slight pink hue appearing on her skin as he smirked playfully. He still has that effect on her.
“Well, what can I say? I’m the big sister she never had. I am what you call a sister by heart.” Y/N proudly, albeit teasingly, put a hand over her chest where her heart is, closing her eyes with a smile on her face. Georgie rolled his eyes, despite the chuckle that left his lips.
"Yes, you are, darling. Yes, you are.”
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄
hi, i’m sorry this is short but i can’t really think of anything else. but i hope you like this though :>
i’m also fine with the georgie requests!! but yeah i do wish i get to write other fandoms though… it’s okay though!! i enjoy writing georgie cooper imagines!!
#x reader#georgie cooper x reader#young sheldon#georgie cooper#georgie#imagines#imagine#georgie cooper imagine#fluff imagine#fluff#missy cooper#missy#platonic#romantic
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