#this post brought to you by my own need of reminders
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Midwest Girl
Warnings: F!reader, hunting mention, (just in case) slight gore/blood description, extreme weather mention (tornado sirens), just self indulgent fluff
An: trying my hand at a drabble 😌 (a very long drabble… more like a poorly formatted fic) saw this post by @succubusvalentine and just needed to write Simon with a Midwest girl lol. Lil disclaimer, this is based on my own experience in the Midwest and where I live in it (omg it's huge there's so much variety in the culture)
Word count: almost 800
Simon with a Midwest girl that absolutely fascinates him.
You were always so sweet and polite, a small smile would pull at his lips every time you said “ope.”
If you were surprised, bumping into something, or remembering something, every single one would be accompanied by a little “ope!”
Or when you would walk past him, a little “let me just squeeze right past ya...” he would be fighting off a grin.
The politeness wasn't a personal thing though.
The first time a stranger started talking to him at the grocery store, he thought they were insane. When his sweet girl started chatting with the older lady who had commented on the tomatoes Simon was holding, he thought you had fallen off the deep end as well. But that's just how you were. His sweet thing, sharing your sugar with the neighbors, helping with their gardens, bringing over dinner or other comforts whenever someone fell on hard times.
Your food reminded him of what home ought to feel like, all comforting and warm. Whether it be your mother's “famous” chili, a casserole brought to a potluck to celebrate some small town holiday, or a simple pasty warming his fingers in the heart of winter, Simon could never get enough.
While there were quite a few things he hesitated to eat, shoving a bite into his mouth usually shut him up and had him devouring the rest, despite the odd name or questionable ingredients.
The weather was its own situation.
The tornado sirens are blaring, he's grabbing things to hide in the basement and wait out the weather, following the safe and logical protocol. Searching high and low for his sweet girl, just to find you lounging on the porch, a bottle of Faygo in hand, watching the sky swirl and shift with a content smile. Brushing him off when he frantically tries to usher you inside, nodding to your neighbors who are all doing the same, outside despite the sirens screaming for you to hide inside where it’s safe. (Of course, if it actually got bad, you would go inside, but it would take a while to get to that point.)
The temperature changes were intense, 20’s and freezing his fingers off one day, 60’s and driving with the windows down the next, it was enough to give him whiplash.
Not to mention the god-awful winters. He would think you were insane for wearing just a T-shirt and jeans when it's nearly in the 30s. You would just smile and wave him off, laughing when the usually stoic man would be reduced to grumbles about the cold bite.
The chill in Manchester was enough for him to be tugging on a winter coat so the colder temperatures were less than comfortable. He would be bundled up in long johns, flannel, a down coat, mittens, and a scarf wrapped over a thick woolly balaclava you had gifted him for the holidays and he would still be shivering like a wet kitten.
It’s hitting the negatives and you’re unbothered.
“It’s not so bad without the wind.” You happily tell him, as if his nose wasn’t numb and his fingers stiff from the glacial weather. He had to buy a proper pair of winter shoes, his assumption that his combat boots would be fine stomping through the snow. After a too-close dance with frostbite, he caved and bought a real pair of snow boots.
The way you interacted with wildlife never failed to amaze him either. Shooing off a raccoon or coyote that was pawing through your trash. Feeding the birds and squirrels, not batting an eye as a deer walks past.
Growing up in Manchester, he had seen his share of wildlife, but it was so different in the States. The deer were bigger, coyotes would bark and scream like banshees in the night, and don't even get him started when he saw a moose for the first time.
But Simon whose girl goes hunting or fishing? He’s whipped.
You’ve got antlers on your walls, maybe a hide or two kicking around. His eyes would nearly pop out of his head when he walked into the garage to be met with the sight of his sweet girl elbow-deep in fish guts, scaling and gutting the fish with practiced efficiency. Blood splattered on your arms and a smudge on your cheek as you smiled at him and handed him a plate of fish to bring inside.
He would laugh at first, the need for a freezer in the garage seemingly useless. But come hunting season, when it was filled with rabbit, venison, and wild turkey, he changed his mind quite quickly.
You had your quirks, but you were his. And he wouldn’t trade his sweet Midwest girl for anything.
An: I had a lot of fun writing this! Like I said, it’s based on my own experience with where I live so I’m sorry if this isn’t how you’ve experienced it! Feedback is always appreciated <3
Taglist: @pythonmoth @hattiefunny @daydreamerwoah @bi-sk8er @sweetheart4you @shinebright2000
#❥ kitty writes#❥ orange cat fics#simon riley#ghost cod#cod mw2#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley cod#cod modern warfare#simon ghost x you#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost call of duty#simon riley fluff#midwest#cw hunting#cw blood#cw gore
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SM needs to watch his words better since he mentioned Vanilla being good with kids when he hasn't said it yet (Bro knows a LOT after watching his videos and rare streams where he mentioned different moments from his life. For example, the fact that many plants are brought to him by children)
I think he'll start filtering his speech after this conversation, LMAO
I love these little details that slip in as dialogues like this, it's wonderful. :)
I also can't help but say how incredible the atmosphere is on your latest art. The color work and your style create a very pleasant impression... Like. I like how your style looks like sketches (story-wise) and more serious sketches like this.
(I told my friends about this AU and they are also delighted, my work is done (´ε` ))
(Yes, I drop EVERYTHING and run to look at your posts. This reminds me of someone... WHO SAID THAT BYEE)
yess someone needs to watch his own mouth Heh.... Im actually so overjoyed by your compliments to my latest art!! i honestly felt a bit down since it didn't reach much but thanks to you i feel better!! im glad you notice the little stuff i put in it! <33
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latest ADHD patch: quality of life updates
Adjusted sleeping hours to an earlier schedule. Turns out the "woohooo I am untouchable and free and I can do anything now the world is asleep!" high that staying up late gave me can also be obtained at 7AM. And early mornings have the added benefit of being brainable, so I can spend some time on hobbies before work.
Eliminated ambitious goals after sundown. Writing after work? Forget about it. It's not happening, we're out of brain juice by then. (Writing in the morning before work does happen, though!) If the sun has gone down, give up the lofty ambitions and just play a game or do something hands-on that lets the brain be mostly off.
Adjusted diet. Been slowly getting into cooking (great evening activity) and the increase in my energy levels when I eat food that tastes good and interesting is so tangible it's insane. And there's a surprising number of uncomplicated and cheap recipes that achieve this.
Implemented a walking routine to fix a recurring bug (wiggles). I was already working out regularly because picking up heavy things is a drug, but have noticed the classic ADHD restlessness can often be cured with a walk or some physical activity to burn it off. Fresh air helps too.
Eliminated phone use (preferably no screens) for at least one or two hours before sleep. When I started doing this I was like "but what about my nighttime fanfic binges?" but I gained something better in exchange: the freedom of being unreachable for a few hours. I usually read a physical book and/or spend time with my pet. And I sleep better, too.
Increased levels of kindness toward the user. This is the big one. If I fall off the horse or have an off day when I'm unable to manage all this, I try to be kind and forgive myself. All is not lost. Tomorrow I try again.
#stygius textpost#this post brought to you by my own need of reminders#especially that last one#adhd quality of life updates#maybe these will be helpful for someone else!
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Deeva Årud - Club Wear Voice Lines
When Summoned: Lights dimmed, tension building up… Are you ready to feel our rhythm? Summon Line: Playing music with friends is fun, I’m glad to be here even though I’m starting to feel a bit nervous.
Groooovy!!: We’d be delighted to see you at our next show. Spotting a familiar face among the crowd is always nice. Home: “Let’s rock and roll”, as some would say. Home Idle 1: I joined the Pop Music Club on my second year. Perhaps it’s quite a drastic change from my previous club but… it’d be a lie to say I’m not enjoying my time here. Home Idle 2: Most of the time I’m the one suggesting we should practice, but somehow Lilia, Cater and Kalim always distract me with all these unknown snacks and gadgets. Sometimes I have the feeling they do it on purpose… Home Idle 3: I need to warm my hands, it’s hard playing an instrument when they’re cold. Home Idle – Login: *humming Piece of My World* Ah- sorry, I didn’t see you there. Can I help you with something? Home Idle – Groovy: I’ve been playing violin and other instruments since I was a kid. My family has always had a connection with music and I’ll gladly continue this legacy. Conveying your thoughts and feelings through sounds is quite satisfactory. Home Tap 1: My first concert with them? Since it was the first time I’d be playing in front of many people, I knew I’d have a hard time trying to look at the audience. Cater noticed and told me to look at him so I could feel less overwhelmed… Let’s say I didn’t expect him to be so literal. His clones substituted the audience because no one came to see us. Home Tap 2: Hm, my violin? Indeed, it’s not the same one I use at Mostro Lounge. An electric violin is more suitable for the club’s activities. I’m surprised you noticed it. That means someone’s been paying too much attention to the musician playing ambience music… That was a joke. Home Tap 3: Kalim and I joined the club in the same year so I got to see how much he’s improved his drumming technique. It’s impressive. Certainly, Lilia’s been an excellent teacher to him. Home Tap 4: I like the idea of having customized masks for our performances. Maybe I should mention it once we have enough funds. Home Tap 5: I recently accepted to do some vocals just for our club sessions. You can come see us, but please refrain from telling everyone else. At the moment, I only feel comfortable singing for a few people. Home Tap – Groovy: When it comes to a band like this many wouldn’t think of a violinist, but that actually gives songs an interesting feeling, don’t you think? Duo: [DEEVA]: Ready for a shocking performance, Cater? [CATER]: Ready as ever, Dee-chan!
#To any violinist in the room: I tried :']#I can probably get away with some details since she's not actually playing here#more like positioning her violin/posing#but yeah. An attempt was made#I actually had to redo the whole card because I didn't like how the old one looked#and if it reminds you of something it's probably because I kind of borrowed Lilia's face shape#it was my last resort after drawing 20 heads and not being fully convinced by any of them HDSGSH#the rest is obviously brought to you by my own suffering#Oh and some extra info about Home Tap 1:#Deeva actually kept looking at Cater on stage out of habit even after they gained some listeners#sometimes the poor guy thinks she's glancing at him because he made a mistake or something lmao#Talking about Cater. One of the reason she joined this club was because she promised it to him#when they were first years she didn't know there was a music club like that#and Mr CayCay here informed her a little bit too late of the existence of the PMC#Also unrelated to what I was saying#but please imagine she says “let's rock and roll” with the most monotonous voice ever#zero spirit in those words#until she picks up her violin and the rock and roll starts rock-and-rolling#it's funnier that way#The need I feel to talk a lot under my art posts needs to be studied#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland oc#twst oc#deeva twst#my art
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Okay I haven't talked about Judas OR the Judas album in a while so I'm going to share this analysis I finally placed and I'm losing my mind about
In the song Field of Blood (song 5,) the chorus ends with a line I've never quite been able to find a suitable conclusion about. Right. (Putting my rambling under a read more, the screenshots make this long)
Oh, okay, "what is my god," he's having a crisis of faith. Why is God so cruel as to order Jesus be killed (reminder that the album is a mix of biblical and Gnostic canon, where Jesus asked Judas to be the one to betray him.)
WRONG
If we move two tracks ahead in the album to Death is Just a Kiss Away, right before the last chorus we have these lines:
Which is insane! Because this part is actually saying "you have two gods, God and Jesus" (sun and moon, as I'll get to) "and no matter which you choose" (obeying the kill command or refusing to kill Jesus) "you're going to piss everyone off"! Okay now I know, "but where did you get sun and moon/God and Jesus" and HERE I TELL YOU:
Jesus is CONSTANTLY referred to with constellation imagery! (There's a whole song about it!) The Gospel of Judas includes the quotes (from Jesus) "Judas, your star has led you astray" and "the star that leads the way is your star." The album takes this and RUNS with it. Makes Jesus Judas's guiding star. There is SO MUCH night/star symbolism going on here, mostly in Constellation, but also from A World Where we Belong:
SO BASICALLY: considering that Jesus is heavily referred to with night sky imagery and they're literally both referred to as "two moons aligned," it isn't unreasonable to conclude that the line from Just a Kiss Away is in fact talking about God/Jesus. WHICH MEANS
When Judas is about to hang himself and he pleadingly asks "what is my god?"
HE DOESN'T KNOW IF IT'S GOD OR JESUS BECAUSE HE'S FUCKING IN LOVE WITH HIM APNDOANSOANS HE OBEYED GOD BECAUSE HE'S GOD BUT HE'S KILLING HIMSELF OVER JESUS. I HAVE MANY OTHER LINES ABOUT THIS (DEVOTION TO JESUS, NOT GOD) BUT THAT'S A DIFFERENT TOPIC
#AGGGGGHHHHHHH#yeah hey long time no judas#in case you guys thought i was over it#i am not fucking tagging this anything searchable no one needs to go in the judas iscariot tag and see me being insane#however much the english major roomie says im doing insane level analysis#i think im just insane actually#like. im CORRECT. but im still insane#also @ the 'what is my god' like. cruelty pondering#i would have accepted that as a face answer IF there wasnt biblical canon mixed in#since heaven and hell are mentioned this is very much not referring to the gnostic figure#nebro/yaldabaoth or saklas#the gnostic and terrible little shits ruling over earth#okay now that this is back from rhode island (the void)#@ the last attached image from a world but also ig the whole post#reminder that judas kills himself after betraying jesus (the whole point of field of blood)#and that its so incredibly interesting that presumably as hes dying judas is asking to be brought to jesus (the stars)#instead of heaven which is honestly also its own thing considering the prior acknowledgement of heaven and hell#because the stars is both jesus and the divine realm (not heaven)#i think im gonna run out of tags i need to stop#im not rereading this again OR adding insane rambling tags again i am hitting post#woe. be subjected to my post boy#okay people have Found this post so clarification this is about the lord of the lost judas album#if anyone else finds this thing i specifically did not tag
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trying to remember things i know about spanish culture is like hmm is this an actual fact or is this just something my mum has said and i believed it bc i was too young to know better
#she thinks ppl who speak regional languages are like. up themselves or something but its like. youre from aragon lmao??#a region that has its own language? ik she doesnt speak it but like. whats the deal here.#and my dad does not help lmao ''catalans are like the scots'' ok remind me to never trust your opinion of scotland ever#posts brought to you by. i need to get away from this place nowwww
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the list of traumas i need to unpack still and my coping mechanisms (or, more frequently, lack-thereof) keeps getting longer and i'm not sure i like that. I think i like less how much i already know they're hangups before they become a problem i have to actively work on, too.
#this post brought to you by#my aversion to bathrooms and kitchens being connected because they remind me that i have a body that has body functions#and those Weren't Allowed really - mean obviously what're you gonna do about it#but like... it was very clear it was seen as a Defect that i was in any way doing human body things even in normal amounts#so i learned to Hide all of my Disgusting Body Functions™#because if it was Found Out that i'd Excreted Fluids or Mucus or had Consumed Food and was Digesting those were Gross#and Punishable because they could Make A Mess#messes were *not* allowed (not well stopped but also not allowed so i was in trouble a lot because things would be messy)#(and not even always Really Actually Messy)#i'm way more fastidious about my Body Goo getting places than anyone i've ever met except for my parents and my sister#i'm not tidy by any means and i'm very bad at making sure things in my controlled space stay Clean and Sanitized but that's My Zone#that's allowed to be Disgusting (and frequently is)#(note: we're still using my definition of disgusting which probably just means Normal Amounts of Grossness)#but places that in my head are meant to be kept Sanitary and Nearly Sterile (kitchen & bathroom mainly) i get Very Anxious about#because if i'm in there i naturally will make things Unsanitary#it's why i avoided using shared spaces when i lived with people before - i can avoid Grossing Up The Place if i'm not in them#my big-e Ex was also not helpful in this because he was on my dad's level of fastidiousness#everything had to be spotless or he'd be upset and it had to be my job#and no i don't know which one i'm talking about there#my mom would freak out if there was too much dog hair - we had 2 dogs at any given time and all of them shed like hell#so ''too much'' was generally ''any''#household deepcleans were supposed to be a weekly thing and if it didn't get done weekly mom and dad were REALLY upset#everything i did that i considered ''gross'' was done in secret and in private and i was TERRIFIED of getting caught *checks notes*#having a body and it doing normal body things#so anyway if you've made it this far this is your friendly reminder that your body is not capable of any more grossness than any other body#and grossness is normal and it's fine you're not some sort of ooze monster who needs to be decontaminated constantly#you're just a human being with a human body#a lot of the way i've been handling this for a lot of these things is the ''well... people used to live in a lot dirtier conditions and THE#survived so i'm probably not going to die from exposure to 1 common household contaminant or body fluid from my own body''#it's... generally effective
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when katsuki gets too fed up with your argument
you and katsuki had a huge argument after he recovered from a fight. your class had a whole plan to take down villains who unexpectedly attacked, but your hothead of a boyfriend without a thought, believed he could take down a dozen villains by himself. he impulsively acted and used more of his power than he could handle, so he got hurt. his ego got the best of him, and he ended up getting hurt, leaving with a few broken bones.
once the fight was over, recovery girl brought him back to the nurse’s office and healed him. he was in and out of consciousness for a day, but claimed he was better once he fully woke up. when word spread around that he was awake, you immediately went to talk to him about your worries.
of course, he didn’t listen when you lectured him, and the argument almost became a yelling match. as you were too frustrated, you told him you needed space. maybe you just needed to calm down for a couple of minutes.
although you told him he couldn’t keep throwing himself into fights without a second thought, he just brushed you off. his confidence was going to be the death of him one day. of course, pro-heroes were supposed to not hesitate, but there was a specific plan to follow. he disobeyed it and went his own way.
but the argument was five hours ago.
even as you sobbed and wiped your tears with tissues on your nightstand, you started to doubt yourself. did you really take it too far? was it not that big of a deal?
maybe falling asleep would make you feel better.
so you curled up into your smoke-scented bed, a constant reminder of katsuki’s absence. you wish he were here right now, but maybe it made sense if he didn’t want to talk to you.
katsuki, on the other hand, was in his dorm and lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling. he tapped his stomach with his fingers and grunted. he missed you. he didn’t care if you were still mad at him, he needed to be with you, to feel you again.
so he stood up and opened the door, then started traveling to your dorm. he unlocked your door with a key you gave him and saw you sleeping peacefully on your bed, arms curled around your pillow. it served as katsuki’s body when he wasn’t there to hold you in his arms, apparently.
he smiled but frowned again once he looked closer and saw tear stains on your face. when he glanced at your trash can, it was filled to the brim with tissues. his heart stung, but he pushed himself to climb onto the opposite side of the bed with you and wrap his strong, muscular arms around your waist.
you mumbled in your sleep and groggily whispered, “no, kats, i’m still mad at you—“
he whispered back and held you tighter, “forget about the argument for tonight. we can talk about it in the morning. right now, shut up and let me hold you.”
you mumbled and pressed yourself flush against katsuki’s chest, curling more into his body than away. he pressed his face into your hair and kissed your neck, causing you to quietly giggle in your sleep.
in a couple of minutes, he was asleep as well.
haii!! hope u guys like this kind of angst/comfort. tysm for so many likes on my og katsuki post!
#yukioos#x reader#katsuki bakugo x y/n#katsuki bakugo fluff#katsuki bakugo imagine#bnha bakugo katsuki#katsuki x you#bakugo katuski#katsuki bakugo#katsuki bakugou#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#katsuki x y/n#katsuki bakugo mha#bhna fanfiction#bakugo x reader#bakugo#mha bakugou#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#mha#mha x reader#my hero academia#my hero academia x reader#bhna x reader#bhna imagine#bhna#bakugou x you#bakugou x y/n#bakugou fluff
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Post 9/11 Trivia
Most folks on this site were either children on September 11, 2001, or weren’t even born yet. But America went crazy for about a year afterwards. Here’s some highlights that I remember that might not be in your history books:
There was national discussion on whether or not Halloween should be canceled because…fuck if I know why. After planes crashed into buildings in NYC it follows that 6-year-olds in Iowa shouldn’t be allowed to dress up like Batman and ask their neighbors for candy, I guess. (Halloween wasn’t canceled, by the way.)
On a similar note, people asked if comedy - any sort of comedy - was appropriate anymore, ever.
People sold shitty parachutes to suckers “in case your building gets attacked and you have to jump out the window.” There were honest-to-God news reports warning people not to jump out of the window with shitty mail-order parachutes because they wouldn't work.
As a follow-up to the attacks, someone mailed anthrax to some prominent politicians and news anchors - you know, famous people - along with some badly-written notes about “you cannot stop us, death to America, Allah is good” and after that every time some random dumbass found a package in the mail they didn’t recognize they thought that the terrorists were targeting them, too.
Everyone was similarly convinced that their town was going to be the next target, even if they were a little town in the middle of nowhere. "Our town of Bumblefuck, South Dakota (population 690) has the largest styrofoam pig statue west of the Mississippi! Terrorists might fly planes into that too! It's a prime target!"
People started taping up their windows and trying to make their houses or apartments airtight out of fear of chemical and biological attacks. There were news reports warning people that turning your house into an airtight box was a bad idea because, y'know, you need air to breathe.
"[X] supports terrorism!" and “if we do [X], the terrorists win!” were used as arguments for everything. "Some rich Arab you never heard of donated to his organization that backs Hamas which backs al-Queda, and also owns stock in a holding company that has partial ownership of the Pringles company, so if you eat Pringles you're supporting terrorism!" "The terrorists want to tear down our freedoms and our way of life and rule us through fear! Eating what you want is one of our freedoms as Americans! If you're afraid to eat Pringles, the terrorists win!" (I promise you that this sort of argument is in no way hyperbole.) (This argument is how Halloween was saved, by the way. “If we cancel Halloween, the terrorists win!”)
People worked 9/11 into everything, and I mean everything, whether it was appropriate or not. If you went to the grocery store the tortilla chips would remind you to support the troops on the packaging. Used car sales would be dedicated to our brave first responders. You couldn't wipe your ass without the toilet paper rolls reminding you to never forget the fallen of 9/11, and again, this is not hyperbole. My uncle, who lived in Ohio and had never been to New York except to visit once in the 70′s, died of a stroke about 8 months after 9/11, and the priest brought up the attacks at the eulogy.
On a similar local note, on the day of 9/11, after the towers went down, gas stations in my home town immediately jacked up gas prices. The mayor had the cops go around and force them to take them back down. I doubt any of that was legal.
Before 9/11, Christianity in America - and religion in general - was on a downward swing, with reddit-tier atheism on the upswing. Religion was outdated superstition from a bygone age. The day after 9/11? Every single church was PACKED. (This wasn't a bad thing, but the power-hungry on the Evangelical Right saw this as a golden opportunity to grab power and influence.)
EDIT: By Popular Demand - Freedom Fries. I initially left these off because they came a couple years after the initial panic and most people thought they were kind of absurd (and I don't recall anyone really going along with it other than maybe some local diners here and there). France didn't want to get involved in our world policing so some folks were like "TRAITORS!" and wanted to call french fries "Freedom Fries" instead, so as to stick it to the French.
Besides dumb shit like that…it’s really hard to overstate how completely the national mood and character changed in the span of a day, or how much of the current culture war is a result of the aftermath. (9/11 was the impetus for the sharp rise in power of the Evangelical Right, who made themselves utterly odious and the following backlash helped the rise of the current Progressive Left, for instance.)
And if all of this seems batshit...well, it was. But I want you to think for a moment how people react today over even trivial shit. People send death threats over children's cartoons. They call for blood if the maker of a video game had an opinion they don't like. If someone made a racist joke a decade ago when they were a teenage edgelord, folks will go after people who even associate with them. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND ALL THE HARM THEY'RE DOING!?"
Now take that same level of over-the-top histrionics and apply it to the unprecedented event of passenger planes crashing into crowded buildings in America's most populous city and killing thousands of people all at once. "DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT WE WERE ATTACKED!?"
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People truly don't get just how labor-intensive of a field filmmaking is, whether it's writing/pre-production or on-set actors and crew or post-production
#listen man i know ive barely scratched the surface of even sports broadcasting#but my schedule is Not Unlike the kind of schedules film crews face with MUCH more labor intensive jobs#except where my schedule is unpredictable and subject to change on short notice and my shifts#Do Not Come with proper breaks#at least i *usually* only work a max of 12 hours#film crews easily see 14-16 hour days and the studios refuse to accept#paying more fines to the unions for not supplying the minimum amount of hours needed between shifts (this was something they rejected in#the wga negotiations)#and they HAVE to have those fines put on them because there is like. a real legitimate problem of lack of sleep leading to#injuries (and sometimes fatal ones) both on and off film sets. do you know its not unusual for people on sets to be reminded not to drive#if they feel like theyre going to pass out. a couple of years ago when iatse was in negotiations people were sharing INSANE stories#along those lines#and those days arent worth it!! at all!! we HAVE to take more time to make movies. we have to stand behind the unions. come on man#anyway brought to you by i wasnt gonna reblog that giant post where someone sent a stupid ask to neil gaiman but i am mad about it#and i know that post was specifically aboht writing but MAN people really forget the number of crew who work on movies#and how exhausting those jobs are and how much technical skill and varied understanding of skills that arent even your own#that you have to have to work in entertainment !#anyway
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mama’s girl



pairing: perv neighbor!agatha x reader
word count: 4.5k
warnings: 18+ kinda dun-con, manipulation, pervy acts: stealing underwear and hidden camera, guided masturbation, guided a lot of things actually, lots of titty sucking (& play), pussy eating & fingering, orgasm control, bondage, marking, possessive agatha, edging, age gap, & stalking lmk if i missed anything
a/n: this is definitely a dark fic so read at your own risk! also just a reminder that my page is not for minors <3
summary: you introduced yourself to your new neighbor and she takes a liking to you
You had moved into a new apartment after graduating college, and decided to introduce yourself to people living across the hall. You were absolutely thrilled when the door opened, and an older brunette woman opened the door. All thoughts of yours went out the window as she greeted you hello.
“Hi- Hi! I’m Y/N, I just moved in across the hall and I just wanted to introduce myself. I- uh made you some cookies as a sign of good faith. I’m trying to make some friends or uh at least friendly faces. Umm yeah so if you ever need anything I’ll be across the hall.”
“Thank you very much sweetheart. That’s quite a sweet gesture hun. Why don’t I tell you what, why don’t we do dinner sometime together? Would that be okay with you sweetness?”
“Yes! We can do dinner at mine this Friday at 7 if that works, I’ve been meaning to try out a few recipes if that’s okay with you.”
“Perfectly fine, I’ll see you on Friday honey.”
You giddly skipped back to your room, unaware of the thoughts swirling in Agatha’s head. You had made quite the impression on her. After you left, Agatha had to take quite a few breaths after seeing you. You were such a sweet and innocent sight, and she just had to have you for herself. She couldn’t wait for Friday, she had the perfect opportunity to start leaving her claim on you. She took a bite out of your cookie, and fuck, she couldn’t wait for Friday.
The rest of the week dragged around slowly for both of you. You couldn’t shake your hot neighbor out of your head, although you felt guilty for crushing on her. Opposingly, Agatha has been keeping tabs on you, she’s found where you work and found your socials online. She spent a significantly long time through your Instagram, enjoying herself while discovering the bikini pics you’ve posted from your last vacation.
When it’s time to head over on Friday, she carries a larger than necessary bag. You let her inside, your stomach swirling at the sight of her dressed up. She greets you with a hug and a kiss on each cheek, and your breath catches in your throat. She hands you a bottle of wine she brought over, and you hurriedly rush into the kitchen to break it open. She uses this opportunity to take a look around your house, finding her way into the bedroom. She immediately starts on pulling out the secret camera she brought, placing it onto one of your picture frames facing your bed. Making sure you didn’t come back, she starts going through your drawers until she finds your underwear drawer, digging through and grabbing a few to take home. She stuffs them into her purse and starts to take a look around your room, observing all the decorations you have up.
You walk into your room and see her observing a picture of yours.
“Agatha? What are you doing in here?”
“Oh sweetheart, forgive me. I was trying to find your bathroom to freshen up and came in here instead. I saw these adorable pictures and got distracted.”
A small blush forms at your cheeks at her comments and you guide her back towards your living room. She flashes you a grateful smile at the glass of wine and you can feel yourself falling for her with every passing moment. Dinner went smoothly, and you sighed in relief when Agatha showed signs that she enjoyed your food. She moaned out in delight at your cooking, and your cheeks flushed even further when your mind thought of where else she would make those noises. Dessert continued to be a success and she thanked you for the beautiful meal.
You both talk for quite a bit that night, Agatha trying to find out anything she could about you. You found it sweet how Agatha took so much interest in you, asking you many questions about your life. You answered her questions honestly and started rambling about your life to her. Agatha looked at you so sweetly but there was something in her eyes that you couldn’t place. You brushed it off, blaming it on the wine. Agatha’s delighted at all the information you gave for her including that you’re single, you started a new job as a receptionist, and you’ve just moved here away from most of your friends and family. The night goes swimmingly with both of you laughing and chatting about work and it’s past midnight when Agatha leaves your apartment. She heads straight to the bedroom, not bothering to take off her shoes before unzipping her dress and taking one of your panties out of her bag.
She starts to grind against your panties, the lace feeling heavenly against her clit as she moans out your name. The thoughts of you tonight flashing your precious eyes at her takes her over the edge, and she collapses against her bed, she decides she’ll clean up tomorrow.
She runs into you tomorrow while you’re about to leave your apartment, finding you dressed up in a tight dress and some heels.
“Oh, hi Agatha. I’m headed out for a date right now. This girl asked me out today while I was getting my coffee. I have to go now but I’ll see you around. We should grab dinner sometime, I’ll text you!”
Agatha bids you goodbye, wishing you good luck before entering her place and heading straight to the bedroom. She fishes out another pair of panties of yours and puts it on while grabbing a vibrator and placing over her clothed clit, grinding and bucking as her juices leaked out and into your panties. She pulls out her phone and opens the app connected to the camera in your room. She scrolls back to the footage from earlier today, watching you get ready. She nearly came as soon as she saw you, but took her time as she watched you get ready, enjoying the way your precious body looked. Her orgasm fell over her in waves, desperation rolled over her as she had to have you.
The next time you both get together, Agatha makes sure to dress to get your attention. She knows that you have a small crush on her, but she needs you desperate for her. It seemed to have worked, as Agatha noticed your eyes on her the entire night, even stuttering over your words a little when she decided to hold eye contact with you. Your heart nearly stopped when she went to wipe a food stain near your lips, licking her finger before gently wiping it off. She pats your cheek before she heads back to your seat, and she knows she has you hooked.
“So honey, how’s everything going with you? Anyone you’ve been intimate with recently? You’ve been going on quite a few dates.”
Your face heats up at her question and you just duck your head out of embarrassment. You’ve never actually had sex with someone before and you were sure Agatha would laugh at you, obviously she was expecting to share and reflect on details of both of your sex lives. You look up at her sheepishly and she tilts her head curiously.
“I- uh well, I’ve never actually had sex with someone. It sounds stupid but I’ve never found someone to do it with and I’m too scared I’ll be bad at it now.”
“Oh sweetheart, you poor thing. Let me help you sweetheart. I’ll teach you all you need to know and show you exactly what it feels like.”
“You would do that for me? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable, you’re probably not interested in a girl like me.”
“Nonsense sweetheart. I’ll help a sweet thing like you out. We can start off with weekly lessons and adjust as needed, we can do them on Fridays, right around this time. Here, why don’t we just get started right now. I want you to undress for me sweetheart while making eye contact, and take your time with it.”
You followed her directions exactly, locking eyes with her while slowly lifting your shirt up. At the pleased smile on her face, you shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you half-naked under her gaze.
“Very good sweetheart, now why don’t you take off your bra for me. We’ll start easy for today, only playing with your boobs. A very important rule I have sweetheart, is that you will not touch yourself unless I give you permission, do you understand me? I don’t want you to explore by yourself sweetheart, you might hurt yourself.”
You nodded while undoing the clasp for the bra, letting your perky boobs show.
“Very good darling, now I want you to hold them and move them around slowly, and see how it feels.”
“Feels good.”
“Oh and one more thing sweetheart, you’re going to start addressing me as mommy from now on, understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes mommy, I understand.”
“Good girl, go ahead and squeeze them for me. Take your time and squeeze.”
You were a bit confused and tried to squeeze them but it didn’t feel right.
“Here honey, let me help you. Just hold your tits up for me sweetheart, I’ll show you how to pleasure yourself.”
You feel a certain wetness as she walks over to you and grabs both of your tits with your hands. You let her squeeze and grab and pull as she wanted, the pleasure clouding over your brain.
“Now sweetheart, I’m going to lick your nipples okay? I promise you’re going to feel so good baby, let mommy show you.”
You nodded and she brings her mouth to your left tit, engulfing your perked up nipple. You let out a small moan when you feel her start to suck. You can feel her smirk and chuckle around your nipple and let out a small apology.
“No need sweetheart. Moan as loud as you want for me baby, I wanna hear those pretty noises coming out of your mouth.”
With that she switches over to your right nipple, giving just as much attention as she gave your left. You let out breathy moans for her and she starts to suck even harder. She guides you to lay down on the sofa while worshipping your breasts, making sure you’d be thinking about her for the next week.
She pulls away from your tits, a trail of saliva connecting her mouth to you before she eagerly connects your lips. She moans into the kiss as she sucks at your bottom lip, and you open your mouth letting her inside. She completely dominates the kiss and it turns you fuzzy. You kiss back passionately, trying to please her the best you could. She doesn’t let you breathe, too focused on claiming your lips. She eventually pulls away, pupils dilated and breath heavy.
“Baby, it’s your turn now. I want you to practice what you just learned, okay? Practice on mama sweetheart.”
Agatha pulls down her zipper and exposes her tits to you, she had omitted her bra for the night. She guided your head to one of her nipples, and you eagerly latched on. You loved this position, being so close to Agatha had your mind blanking. The only thing you could think about was staying close to Agatha, your hands roaming her tits, exploring and playing as you eagerly continued sucking on Agatha. You switched your mouth over to her other nipples and renewed sucking, moaning at the action. Agatha couldn’t believe her luck, how easily you fell into her, and how much you loved this. It would be so easy to just have you spread your legs apart and let Agatha finger you have you fall apart on her lap. The thought had her mind reeling and she realized it was time to cut it off for the night, before she couldn't control herself anymore.
When she pulls you away, you look up at her pouting, eager to go back to what you were doing. Agatha tells you it’s enough for the first lesson, and we can carry on next week. She gently cups your cheek before kissing you goodbye. You stand up with her, putting on your bra before seeing her out the door. You give a small wave goodbye before heading into bed, your mind running blank at the events of the evening. The rest of the week went no better for you, you could barely focus on work, only thinking about the next time you would see Agatha.
Agatha was seeming to handle the gap a lot better than you, using your lacy underwear and her toys to get herself while thinking of how easily you trusted her to touch you. She couldn’t wait for your lesson this week.
When Friday rolled around, you put on your prettiest set of lingerie, hoping it would impress Agatha. You were a skimpy dress, one that would be easier for Agatha. You had everything perfectly set up for when she arrived, and now you were just waiting for her to knock on your door. See Agatha wanted to fuck with you a bit, she knew that you’d be so eager and pliant for her, but she had to keep you just as desperate for her. She purposely arrived a few minutes late, knowing your brain would be just that much happier to see her.
You welcomed her with a hug before moving back to the couch, waiting for her next move. You were surprised to see her sit so close to you, but you weren’t complaining when you saw the low cut top she was wearing again.
“Now sweetheart, today’s lesson is going to be very up close and personal. I need you to trust mommy to show you what to do and let mommy make the best decisions for you, alright? As a reward, if you’re good for mama, I’ll let you play with mama’s nipples again. You be good for me and you can play again since you liked that so much.”
“Yes, mommy. I’ll be good for you.”
“That’s my girl, let’s get you out of this dress hm?” When Agatha saw what you wore underneath your dress, she was in disbelief. She couldn’t believe that you were trying to seduce her, “What’s this sweetheart? You were trying to get mommy all worked up hm? Did you think this would help you?”
“No- no mommy. I just wanted you to like me and I thought you would like it if I wore something pretty.”
Agatha smiled at you, of course you had just wanted to please her, you were her innocent girl after all.
“Alright sweetheart, I’m going to remove your panties now. I want you to keep your hands on the couch when I touch you.”
You placed your palms firmly on the couch, gripping tighter as Agatha got closer to your core. She used a finger to swirl and stroke around your entrance but she never entered. She played around like that for a few minutes, watching how wet you quickly became. She gently pushed a finger into you, delighted at the load gasp you let out. She placed a gentle kiss to your thigh before pushing her finger deeper and then pulling it back out. Agatha repeated the motion for a bit, letting you get used to the intrusion, before picking up the pace and watching the way your face contorted in pleasure. She continued the pace for a bit before slipping in another finger.
You started to let out loud moans of her name, unable to control yourself with this new feeling inside of you. You couldn’t hold yourself back, and your moans continued to grow loader. Agatha watched how easily you took her fingers, throbbing and pulsing around them. She could tell you were getting closer to an orgasm and removed her fingers. She brought them up to her mouth to taste, and she couldn’t control her moan at how good you tasted.
“You did so well for me baby. I’m going to show you something else babygirl and then I’ll let you have a turn with mommy okay? Stay good for me, you’re my perfect angel.”
At that, Agatha took her thumb to your clit, before pressing down. You let out a yelp at that, and she swirled her thumb around in apology. She kept playing around, enjoying how nicely you moaned for her, and how desperate your pussy was with the way it was clenching around nothing. She decided to taste you from the source, replacing her thumb with her tongue and swirling delicately around your sensitive nub. You moaned even louder at that and Agatha chuckled directly into you. She continued her teasing, bringing her tongue down your slit, licking a few stripes before teasing your entrance and then pulling away all together.
Your mouth hung open trying to catch your breath when Agatha pulled away, and she knew she had you right where she wanted you.
“Alright baby, you were so good for me. I’ll let you pick your reward honey. Do you wanna play with mama’s boobs or her pussy?”
“Umm, I don’t know mommy, what if I’m not good at playing with your pussy? I like playing with your boobs.”
“Oh sweetheart, how about you give it a chance alright? I’ll let you play extra with my boobs if it’ll make you feel better.”
You nod at her, and she leans back against the couch with her leg spread open.
“Okay baby, why don’t you kneel in front of me. It’ll make things easier for you.”
Ever so obedient, you immediately kneel in front, and make your way to undo her skirt. Agatha helps you in ridding her skirt and underwear, before spreading her legs open for you, allowing you to see her glistening pussy.
“Now baby, I’ll give you a few minutes to let you play however you want, but when I tell you to, enter two of your fingers inside of me okay?”
You nod before letting your fingers roam through her slit, sliding through a few times before reaching her clit. When you peer up at Agatha, she’s breathing heavily so you assume you’re doing something right. You gently rub at her clit, smiling when she lets out a moan. Agatha snakes a hand into your hair, and you let that be your sign to continue.
“Baby, I want you to go inside me now okay? Mommy wants to feel good.”
You slipped two fingers inside and started pumping them inside. The hand in your hair tightened and you continued your pace, spurred on by her moans. You continue to finger her but your mouth can’t resist the sight of clit. You take it into your mouth and Agatha nearly screams at the sensation.
“Oh, oh just like that angel. You’re making me feel so good sweetheart, I’m so close angel just keep going. So good for me honey.”
You double your efforts, desperate to please her. In a couple more sucks, you feel a warm liquid gush out of Agatha and you eagerly lap it up, becoming addicted to the taste. She gently pulls you away from her core and into her lap.
“Oh my darling, you were such a good girl for me baby. Do you want mommy’s boobs now? You can have anything you like doll.”
“I want your boobies mommy, but I have a question for you.”
“What is it baby?”
“What was the liquid at the end, I didn’t have that when you were playing with me mommy.”
“Oh honey. That's what happens with you have an orgasm. I haven’t given you one yet because I want you to be able to focus on properly learning sweetheart. I was going to introduce orgasms to you at our next lesson.”
You nodded at her before tugging at her top, begging to see her tits again. Agatha removes her top and bra for you, and you eagerly dive in. She lets you rest against her as you seek her out and she sighs in relief. Her plan was falling nicely into place and she couldn’t be happier. Before long, Agatha realized how late it was for you and decided to call it a night. She pressed a gentle kiss to you before leaving, promising how good the next lesson will be for you if you remembered her rules. You promised her before shutting the door behind her.
You immediately headed into the shower to try and calm down. Everything about tonight made your head spin and you didn’t want to be apart from Agatha. You tucked yourself to bed and hoped that this week would fly by.
Unfortunately for you, you couldn’t escape the curiosity of an orgasm. You wanted to know what it felt like and you weren’t sure if you could wait all the way until Friday. You laid down in bed fully naked. You felt really awkward doing this, it didn’t feel anything remote to what you were doing with Agatha, that was what made you excited.
Your finger approached your core and you weren’t even sure what to do first. You let yourself explore for a few minutes but it didn’t feel anything close to how Agatha had touched you. Rubbing your clit didn’t help much either, and you groaned out in frustration. All of a sudden you realized you had broken Agatha’s rules. Suddenly you shot out of bed and started panicking. What if she stopped seeing you after this because you became her bad girl? You burst out into tears and realized you needed to see her right now. Little did you know, Agatha watched the whole thing go down through her camera. She had been checking up on you to make sure you were obeying her, and she was thoroughly disappointed to see you breaking her rules. What she didn’t expect even more was you knocking at her door, half naked in tears.
She ushered you inside and brought you in for a hug, trying to figure out what happened.
“Mommy, I’m so sorry. I- I’m so sorry mommy. I was a bad girl. I messed up. I’m so sorry you have to forgive me, I wasn’t thinking properly. I’ll never do anything like this again, please don’t hate me mama.”
Agatha took pity on you and decided to take it easy on you. “What do you mean baby? What happened sweetheart? I would never hate you.”
“I- I broke your rule,” you hiccuped between words, completely overwhelmed with your current situation. “I was curious about what you said about orgasming and I wanted to see what it was and practice on myself. I didn’t even get to touch myself very well because it didn’t feel like when you did it but I still broke your rule and I’m sorry.”
You were wailing at this point and Agatha felt sorry for you. Did she hate that you disobeyed her? Yes. However she was just going to edge you once before letting you orgasm.
“Oh my darling, you’re still my girl sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere. I’m disappointed in you but you’ll just take a punishment and if you behave through your punishment, I’ll show you an orgasm.”
You immediately agreed, desperate to get in her good graces.
She laid you down over her couch while removing whatever clothing you had found to cover yourself. Her fingers immediately sunk into your pussy and set an unforgiving pace, you had moaned and wailed around her but you took it, allowing Agatha to use you as she pleased. She knew best after all. You felt a weird sensation in your lower belly and you tried to warn Agatha. She pulled out of you after that. You couldn’t hold back your whine and she stroked your hair.
“Tell me what you want baby.”
“I want you mommy. I want you to play with me all the time, I don’t want to wait until just Fridays anymore. I wanna be with you and sleep with you afterwards and go on dates with you.”
“Sounds an awful lot like you want to be my girl honey. Is that it? You want to be my girl, have mama take care of you? Well, I can’t say I’d be opposed to it. It would be nice to have my baby girl by my side all the time hm. l would like that angel.”
You beam at her and Agatha can’t resist kissing you deeply. Her tongue enters your mouth and immediately establishes dominance, sucking and swirling against yours. You’re breathless when she pulls away, and you immediately chase her lips.
Agatha throws you over her shoulder and brings you into her bedroom, desperate to claim you as hers. She lays you down in the middle of the bed before shuffling through her drawer and pulling out some ribbon. She toes your hands to her bed posts and you peer up at her confused. You refuse to voice anything, not when you were so close to your reward. She starts trailing kisses down your body, taking her time to explore all of you. She leaves hickeys in her wake, and she knows you’ll be wearing her marks for the next few days. The thought fills her with need and she hurries her exploration, stopping right at your glistening pussy.
Agatha dives right in, lapping at your wetness before focusing her attention on your clit. She sucks hard, enjoying the way she can feel you pulse. Your moans are music to her ears and she enters you again, fingering you hard and fast, building you back up to where you were before. She curls her fingers to hit your spongy spot and your mind goes blank. You moan loudly and completely go limp, letting Agatha use your pussy. You feel the same pressure in your tummy again.
“Mama, mama please I feel weird.”
“Oh honey, mama knows. Let go for mama, you’re doing so well for me precious.”
Her words spur you on and you’re falling apart against her fingers, moaning loudly and twitching as you ride out your orgasm. You lay there limply afterwards and Agatha immediately rushes to untie you.
The moment she comes back near you, you cling to her, desperately latching on to her. She lays down comfortably next to you and you immediately bring your head to her chest, right next to her boob. Agatha has an inkling for what you want so she unties her robe, giving you full access to her. Your head piques up with interest and she guides you towards her nipple where you happily latch on. She lets you enjoy your suckling, stroking your head while quietly praising you.
You fall asleep with your mouth latched to her nipple and your other hand by her stomach. Agatha has never been happier, wearing a giddy smile as she starts to feel drowsy. She’ll take down her cameras soon, knowing that she’ll eventually have you living with her anyways. Pressing another kiss to your head, she lets sleep claim her knowing she has everything she wants.
notes: i feel like this is terrible so im very very sorry if it is 😔
tag list: @morbidlcve
#agatha harkness x reader#agatha harkness#agatha all along#marvel#x reader#agatha harkness smut#wlw#talia’s fics ໒꒱.*
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Going To The Chapel | Arthur Leclerc x Reader
Summary: A glimpse into life with Arthur Leclerc since your engagement.
Warnings: Fluff. Marriage. Pregnancy. Suggestive comments
Requested: Yes by @1800-love-me . requested newlyweds/new dad arthur
F1 Masterlist
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yn_ln just posted



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yn_ln i had the most amazing weekend with my girls. thank you for planning such a relaxing time away. only one week left until i marry the love of my life tagged: alexandrasaintmleux, bestfriend, charlotte2304
1,617 comments
charles_leclerc i’m still disappointed that i wasn’t invited :(
→ alexandrasaintmleux you had a bachelor party to go to, mon coeur
→ charles_leclerc yeah but they didn’t have matching robes
→ arthur_leclerc i offered to wear matching underwear with you?
bestfriend thank you for not saying “only one week until you marry your best friend” because i would’ve had to kill myself, and then you
→ yn_ln oh
arthur_leclerc my beautiful girl. i cannot wait to marry you
→ yn_ln counting down the days until i can call myself your wife
→ user1 ugh, i need a love like these two
alexandrasaintmleux you’re going to make the most beautiful bride
→ yn_ln once i work off the hangover you inflicted on me
→ alexandrasaintmleux you didn’t have to keep drinking the prosecco
→ yn_ln you didn’t have to keep topping my glass up!
→ bestfriend she was getting you drunk enough that you would agree to run away with her and not marry arthur
→ arthur_leclerc hey!
charles_leclerc just posted



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charles_leclerc a day full of tears and joy. i’m so proud of you, little brother. and beautiful yn, you have been part of this family since arthur first brought you home to us but now we can officially call you leclerc 🤍
5,516 comments
user2 love how he posted an individual pic of yn but not his brother
→ yn_ln i’m the family favourite out of the two of us
→ arthur_leclerc i would disagree but you are my favourite
user3 i love how close charles would’ve had to get for that veil pic
→ alexandrasaintmleux we did have to keep dragging him away from them
→ charles_leclerc i’m just so happy!
francisca.cgomes the most beautiful bride
user4 i love that photo of the two of them sat at the table together
→ charles_leclerc thank you. i had to sneak back to get it but it was just the two of them in their own little world
→ yn_ln i was telling him how desperate i was to get out of my dress
→ user5 and he was telling you how desperate he was to get you out of your dress?
→ arthur_leclerc yes
lorenzotl i love you both so much. welcome to the family, yn 🩷
user6 oh okay. this has reminded me of how alone i am
user7 the cutest couple!
yn_leclerc just posted



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yn_leclerc sand, sea and a new surname 🏖️
2,347 comments
user8 she changed her name!
charles_leclerc did you do anything other than kiss? geez
→ pierregasly it’s their honeymoon. i bet they did a lot more than kiss
→ charles_leclerc ew
user9 look, we all know you spent the honeymoon shagging each other but you didn’t need to post proof
→ user10 and to think these are the photos they thought were acceptable to share liked by yn_leclerc
arthur_leclerc my favourite place will always be beside you
→ yn_leclerc i may not let you leave
→ oscarpiastri married arthur is a cheesy arthur
alexandrasaintmleux i’m loving these photos!
→ yn_leclerc maybe you should be next
→ charles_leclerc don’t give her ideas!
user11 oh a leclerc thirst trap was not what i was expecting
user12 is this pr approved?
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arthur_leclerc just posted



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arthur_leclerc coming soon. baby leclerc
3,549 comments
alexandrasaintmleux i’m so excited for baby leclerc to arrive. is it bad that i’ve already bought loads of clothes?
→ charlotte2304 competing for favourite aunty already, i see
→ yn_leclerc favourite aunty will be whichever one of you gets me a drink first when baby is here
user1 the charles leclerc project is happening
→ scuderiaferrari we are already having a mini f1 car made
user2 you’ve only been married 6 months
→ user2 oh
→ user3 honeymoon baby
charles_leclerc i’m so glad you finally told people. the amount of baby ferrari gear i’ve had made that i have wanted to post
charles_leclerc i am going to make the best uncle
→ lorenzotl *second best uncle
yn_leclerc i didn’t realise having a baby was going to create a leclerc civil war
landonorris that is more of your wife than i wanted to see
→ arthur_leclerc just say congrats, mate
oscarpiastri i guess this means our affair is over
user4 somebody enjoyed their honeymoon a little too much
arthur_leclerc just posted



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arthur_leclerc our baby girl was born late last night. she is happy and healthy, and yn is doing well
4,478 comments
yn_leclerc i love you, mon amour. i couldn't have done this without you
→ arthur_leclerc thank you for blessing me with the most amazing family
charles_leclerc can confirm, she also smells so good
alexandrasaintmleux she’s wearing the little booties i bought! please give baby and yn a huge hug from me
→ user5 you don’t get to meet baby?
→ alexandrasaintmleux i’m not currently in monaco but visiting them will be the first thing i do when i’m back
user6 girl dad arthur incoming!
charlotte2304 missing those baby cuddles already
→ yn_leclerc we’re home tomorrow so please come over
→ yn_leclerc you can cuddle baby whilst i have a wash 😂
user7 a baby girl!
francisca.cgomes you put my giraffe in the bed with her 🥹
→ pierregasly don’t let her meet baby leclerc, please. i’ve only just gotten her a puppy
→ yn_leclerc oh but how cute would a baby gasly be!
→ pierregasly no!
→ arthur_leclerc nobody warns you that your wife will be broody again the second she’s had a baby
→ yn_leclerc excuse me, i think you mean no one warns you that your husband will be begging you for a second baby
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yn_leclerc just posted






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yn_leclerc in honour of mon bébé turning 1 yesterday, please enjoy some snippets of this past year. it has been both exhausting and incredible, and i couldn't have done it without my amazing family
2,091 comments
charles_leclerc i can’t believe my niece is one already. she’s growing too fast
→ arthur_leclerc which is why we should have a second one
→ charles_leclerc yes! that is a great idea
→ yn_ln this is why i don’t leave the two of you alone with her anymore
user8 that pic of arthur and baby leclerc sleeping?! never wanted kids before but now
→ user9 like he was cute before but now he’s a dilf?
→ yn_leclerc i can’t believe i just had to read that
→ arthur_leclerc you called me a dilf last night?
alexandrasaintmleux being aunty alex this past year has been the best part of my adult life
→ yn_ln you can take her for the week if you like. she’s teething so…
→ user10 haha this is so real if you’re a mum
pierregasly who let charles wear that goofy hat
user11 omg charles and baby leclerc though
arthur_leclerc why have you never shown me that photo of us sleeping! she’s literally smiling in her sleep from my cuddles! mon coeur! how could you keep this from me
arthur_leclerc what other photos have you been keeping from me
arthur_leclerc i’m not helping you make a second one until you show me all the photos
→ yn_leclerc does that mean i get a break from you?
→ arthur_leclerc now people are going to think i mount you all the time
→ charles_leclerc ew why did you word it that way liked by yn_leclerc
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Soft & Hard
Aemond Targaryen x Ex Girlfriend
Summary: How do you forget about Aemond Targaryen when he’s everywhere you look?
Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, emotional infidelity, descriptions of self-hatred, situationship, intoxication, smut, heavy petting, drunk sex, P in V, (some) size kink
Word Count: 4000
A/N: This has been plaguing my mind for weeks now, so I really needed to get it out of me and into the world. This can be read as a continuation of my Hockey player Aemond drabble, but can also be read as a standalone. Aemond is a hockey player in this modern AU! 🩵
You prop your feet up to rest on the sides of your bathtub, angling the shower head just right so it hits that spot that sends pleasurable shivers rippling through your body.
Your eyes are closed, and you’re desperately trying to visualise the hot guy from the TV series you’d just binged; mind racing through any arousing scenario you can come up with.
It’s not an easy task; keeping yourself occupied enough to not drift towards the very man you’ve vainly tried to erase from your memory.
You don’t want to think about him.
Thinking about him always leads to missing him.
It leads to longing for him.
No matter how badly he hurt you. No matter how much you rationalise your reasons for leaving, your stupid heart yearns to fill the hole he’s left behind.
Pathetic.
You shut your eyes with more force, thinking of the hot TV character. Upping the pressure of the shower head, you imagine it’s him going down on you that’s causing the pleasure building inside. Your hips begin to shallowly sway back and forth, and low whimpering moans slip from your lips.
As the pleasure builds and builds, the image in your head morphs; the hot TV guys’ hair turns silver, no matter how hard you try to stay focused.
You’re close, so close, and just as you’re on the edge of pleasure, you hear him,
“You’re so pretty like this”
And you cum so hard you drop the showerhead in your grip, legs shaking as your hips jerk upward aggressively.
Water sprays across the bathroom as the shower head falls, but you’re too lost in your own bliss to truly care, giving yourself a moment to just disappear into the fleeting, fierce pleasure consuming you.
After a while, when your legs have stopped shaking and your cunt has stopped clenching around nothing, you turn the rampant shower head off with a sigh.
The satisfaction of your orgasm is short-lived, promptly followed by the lonely reality of you chasing pleasure alone in your bathroom. You could stay in the tub and make yourself cum 10 more times and it wouldn’t change the loneliness residing inside of you.
You could try to picture that hot guy from the show fucking you for hours, still you’d feel the same.
Still, visions of him would cloud your mind. And the chill of loneliness would penetrate your bones, as it does right now.
Because no one kisses your forehead afterwards, or holds you tight, or whispers sweet things into your ear.
You're alone, and the warm water quietly splashing around you doesn’t stop the cold porcelain of your bathtub from chilling your heated flesh.
You shiver.
Sick of yourself; of your self-pity and hatred, you leave the tub and throw on a dressing gown, already on a search for a new distraction.
Anything to take your mind off Aemond Targaryen.
Forgetting Aemond was nearly impossible.
Not only did your mind remind you of your heart’s longing for the man that broke it. The world did as well. Like when you overheard your colleagues discussing his latest game, and how skillfully he tackled his opponents, landing a blow on them so precise yet hard that they flew into the rink. Or when you got home after a long day and turned on the TV, greeted by him giving a post-match interview all sweaty and panting.
The only way you knew him.
Being restricted to seeing the man you’d spent countless nights together with through the TV screen has brought you to the conclusion that ultimately, your relationship hasn’t changed much.
Sure, you don’t send him nudes anymore. Nor does he fuck you into the mattress of whichever hotel room he brings you to.
But the distance is the same. The loneliness isn’t new; it always existed between the two of you. He never really cared to let you in.
You were convenient.
Pliable.
An easy fuck.
You should’ve realised it sooner. Like that time when Alicent Hightower, Westerosi socialite and Aemond’s mother, stopped by one of his practices. You were helping him lace his skates when she appeared, and as soon as he noticed his mum approaching, Aemond’s large hand gently but firmly pushed you away.
Ms. Hightower’s curious gaze had asked about you, and her son huffed out, “She’s an acquaintance”
An acquaintance.
Not even a friend.
To you, Aemond was the first thing you thought about in the morning, and the last thing you thought about before going to sleep.
To him, you were an acquaintance.
Pathetic.
That should have been the last straw. But you kept seeing him. Not even the humiliation and hurt you felt as you excused yourself and ran to the bathroom with tears in your eyes could stop you from craving him. That was the power he had over you.
The power he still has over you, even in his absence. Even if you blocked his number 6 months ago and haven’t seen him once since.
The actual last straw was a message you’d gotten from an unknown number, asking if you’d send more of those “hot slutpics in dat black thong”. For a second you thought it was Aemond having a laugh, but the message didn’t sound like him, and he isn’t exactly known for being a guy that appreciates humour, or ‘pranks’.
Turns out, the number belonged to Aegon Targaryen, Aemond’s older brother and notorious fuckboy. Word around King’s Landing was that every girl who’d slept with him had gotten chlamydia, and still he seems to find a new conquest to throw his arms around each weekend.
Perhaps the sleaziest guy in the Seven Kingdoms.
Turns out, it runs in the family.
You blocked Aemond’s number that night. After swearing to never let your desire for him get the best of you again, you begged your friends to take you out and get you so shitfaced the humiliation Aemond had inflicted on you would be washed away.
It didn’t work.
You’re still tainted by his touch.
So you switch tactics. You look for someone else.
About a month after you’d called things off with Aemond, you thought you’d found a good replacement. A nice, inconspicuous guy who was eager to please; eager to make you like him. You would’ve felt guilty, really, if the dark hole of lonely self-hatred in your chest didn’t outweigh your selfishness.
And still, Aemond Targaryen was everywhere.
You’d find him in that adoring look your new partner gave you as you sucked him off in the shower. You’d find him in bed, when you couldn’t sleep and imagined it was Aemond’s heavy arms holding you tight. You’d find him in your fantasies, seemingly incapable of coming with your new partner unless you closed your eyes and pretended the short, curly strands greeting your hand between your legs were actually long, silky and silver.
Ultimately, your conscience caught up with you, and you broke things off with the new guy as well. He had told you that he loved you, and the sweetest of confessions felt like the sharpest of needles prickling your heart.
Aemond never said it.
Oh, how you wish it was him saying it.
Sometimes, even after six months of not seeing him, you’re still surprised by how incredibly piteous he’s rendered you.
Yearning for a man who only saw you as a plaything. Who only ever cared for you when you were conveniently there for him to do as he pleased with. Who refused to expose your relationship to his mother, and shared your nudes with his brother.
Fucking prick.
Today’s Friday.
Single and lonelier than ever, you beg your friends to go out dancing with you. It’s become your new weekend ritual; go out and dance until your feet hurt and you’re so tired you collapse on your bed, mind delightfully empty.
Now, you're back on the dancefloor, drink in hand, eyes closed as you sway to the music.
You always drag your friends to the same place, The Three Towers, a nightclub of the slightly more exclusive kind, with proper DJs and strong drinks.
They must’ve figured out by now that it was Aemond who introduced you to this place. You see it in the pitiful looks they give you every time you insist on coming here instead of going to any of the many other places in Oldtown. Their eyes say what you’ve known to be true for over six months;
Pathetic.
It’s not like Aemond likes to go out anyway. He hates crowds, dislikes strangers, loathes the fake people gathering around him to tell him empty words of adoration.
But that one time you’d wanted to go dancing, he’d brought you here.
Maybe he brings all his “acquaintances” here.
You tell yourself that you don’t come here for him, that it just happens to be a great place, but still, every time you catch a glimpse of something silvery in the corner of your eye, dread punches you in the gut.
Why do you seek him out when you know actually meeting him would destroy you? What if you saw him here with another girl? Maybe one of the models his brother so often gifts his infected cock to?
Tumultuous thoughts swirl in your mind until you notice that the flash of silver isn’t Aemond’s hair at all, and ease settles over you. Well, something akin to ease. The self-hatred is still there,
Pathetic.
Your feet quickly carry you to the bar, eager for more of the numbness only alcohol provides. You order another G&T and almost spit it out after the first sip; it’s basically all gin.
Good.
You take three large gulps and move back to the dancefloor, searching for your friends who you’ve lost in the crowd of intertwined bodies.
You scan your surroundings, and then it happens again. A flash of silver. Only this time, it’s him.
You remember the first time you saw him. TV appearances and watching him on the ice doesn’t do him justice. In person, his ethereal beauty’s blinding. Just like it is now. One of the spotlights over the sofa he sits on hits his hair, causing it to glow like the beacon of a dark night at sea.
Calling you in.
Your feet work by themselves as they walk towards him. You panic, desperately searching for any excuse to talk to him.
What do you say?
Suddenly you’re right before him, drink in one hand and the other nervously touching your hair as you dumbly stare at him. He looks up from the drink in his hand, a whiskey on the rocks you’d guess, and meets your eyes.
His gaze is cold and stoic.
Unimpressed.
He raises an expectant eyebrow.
And yet you say nothing. All the witty, insightful, hard-hitting truths you’d wanted to tell him for the last six months vanish as you stand before him frozen in panic.
Pathetic.
Pathetic.
Pathetic!
You have nothing. Your mind’s empty, the only thing you can do is feel. Feel the self-hatred, the loneliness, the insecurity he’s inflicted upon you.
He rolls his eyes. Aemond’s not known for his patience, “If you’re looking for that new boyfriend of yours, he’s not here”
“I don’t have a boyfriend”, you blurt out, prompted by the shiver running through you caused by the venom dropping from his words. He sounds so hateful.
He stands abruptly, forcing you to take a faltering step back as he tower over you,
“Come”
He takes the drink in your hand and places it on a nearby table before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the rowdy club. The chill of the night air hits your scarcely clad body as he drags you towards a cab waiting outside, your ears still ringing from the loud music in the club.
He opens the door and pushes on your arm to get in. His touch is still impossibly warm; just as you remember it.
He slams the door shut and walks around to the other side, getting in and grunting an address you’ve never heard of to the taxi driver.
You know your friends would be furious if they knew who you left with, so you send them a quick text stating that you’ve left ‘cause you didn’t feel well.
You place your phone back in your purse and look outside. It seems like you’re driving towards the north part of the city, a place you hardly know.
The deafening silence in the taxi is so tense, any sane person would ask the driver to stop and get out in a heartbeat.
Aemond, sitting next to you with his jaw clenched and fidgeting with his customised black and red lighter, sends nervous ripples of fear through your being. You know he’s contemplating something, yet you wouldn’t dare ask.
Any sensible person would get out.
But you can’t.
Because he still smells the same. And it’s everywhere in the stuffy cab. And your heart hurts, a tear threatens to spill, because you’ve missed it all so much; his smell, his hair, his voice, his touch.
Him.
The silence persists, until you're finally freed as the taxi driver stops and Aemond hands him a few copper stars.
You get out and take a deep breath of the late summer night's air. The buzz of alcohol still clouds your judgement somewhat, yet you feel more aware of yourself than ever before.
You look around and see Aemond approach the entrance to a sleek building in that brutalist, modern design, and you follow in tow. He still hasn’t said anything, and neither have you.
You get in a lift, go up to the top floor, and enter a dark flat with only a small table lamp lit by the entrance, obscuring your view of the place.
Just as you make way to move further into the room, Aemond hinders you.
He doesn’t allow you entrance to the rest of the space, cornering you against a low side table by the entrance door. He’s so tall, and so broad, you disappear into the wall as he steals all the space around you.
“Why did you agree to come with me?”
He’s so close you feel his breath tickle your skin. It’s too dark to truly see the expression on his face, but the shadows cast on him makes him look stern. The smell of him intensifies. You feel warm.
This is all you’ve wanted. All you’ve feared.
You still desire him so.
“You told me to”
He’s quiet for a moment, and you know it’s because your reply’s caught him off guard. He’d assumed you’d fight back, jab at him in some way. He tries again,
“My mate saw you at that club last week, you know”
Is he keeping tabs on you?
“What happened to your boyfriend?”
How does he know about that?
You swallow, “Nothing. It just wasn’t right”
“Hm”
Your eyes are locked together, his mismatched gaze just as alluring as you remember it. Without looking away, he brings a hand up to gently stoke the cold skin of your arm.
The harshness of his stare falters,
“Did you miss me?”
“Did you miss me?”
The retort leaves your lips before you register it forming in your head. Can’t give in to him that easily. Can’t make your suffering known to the person causing it.
The harshness reappears.
“Did he fuck you the way you like?”
His tone is cold, yet heated with anger. The same hateful tinge from before.
Your drunk mind works without you operating it,
“He wasn’t you”
The confession slips out, and so does the pitifulness. The loneliness. The pathetic mess you’ve become.
Aemond didn’t expect your admission either, eyes narrowing in suspicion,
“What do you mean?”
Is this the time?
To tell him how utterly devastated you’ve been without him? How he plagues your mind? How your entire being is tainted by him?
No.
“Why did you bring me here?”, you ask, foggy mind finally cooperative enough to let you change the subject.
“Because you wanted me to”, he replies, the gentle hand on your arm suddenly travelling down to caress your exposed thigh before harshly cupping your cunt.
A startled gasp espaces your lips.
His touch is so nostalgic it travels from your aroused core to your heart, and squeezes it painfully.
His hand is big enough to cover you entirely, and with the heel of his palm, he pushes harshly where he knows your swollen clit lies obscured under your panties. His long finger taps against your hole, and he huffs a quiet, condescending laugh as he feels how moist the fabric is.
When did you get this wet?
You feel the heat of his touch radiate from his palm to your cunt, so persistent it finds its way through your underwear. He only moves his hand to stroke you over the fabric and press at your clit, but the gratification of finally being granted his touch works you towards release at a speed you’d thought impossible.
“Still a little slut for me”
He brings two fingers up to press right over your clit, rough circles demanding that you obey his touch and come for him.
His breathing hard through his nose, the look in his eye is hard to decipher,
Arousal?
Fury?
Fuck it feels good to be pushed against a wall by him. To be subjected to his rough treatment. Anything to feel his touch on you again.
Your hips move upwards to meet his fingers; you’re so close to falling apart.
“You missed me. And that fucker you were seeing couldn’t compare to me. Isn’t that right?”
He spits out the words, teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he leans even closer.
Your arms have been hanging limply at your side, and you have to fight the sudden urge to grab him and press him against you. To feel him closer.
“Did he make you this wet?”
Aemond’s tongue licks the sensitive spot behind your ear and you moan loudly, fully consumed by the way his fingers push you towards release.
You angle your face so that his mouth is right by yours. With parted lips, you look up at him pleadingly, begging him to kiss you.
Something in his eye shifts, and a victorious smirk breaks out over his face,
“Come”
And you do. So hard you see stars and your legs give out. The pleasure is intense, it steals everything from you; your breath, your senses, your self-discipline.
Your hands fly to Aemond’s biceps, anchoring yourself to him as your body twitches forcefully in the pleasure rupturing you. It’s cathartic; a long awaited release only his hands can coax out.
When you come back to reality, to the dark hallway you're trapped against Aemond’s body in, the dreaded self-hatred you’d gotten to know so well makes itself known again.
The brutal reality of exactly how far your pathetic infatuation with Aemond has driven you crashes over you like an ice-cold wave of regret. You feel hot tears well up in the corner of your eyes as they stay casted down, refusing to look up at the man who’s greatest pleasure in life seems to be to torment you.
Why had he brought you here? Why did he enjoy hurting you? Why had you fallen for it?
“What did I do to make you hate me so?”
It’s the alcohol talking. Or maybe it’s the last thing you need to hear from him before you can finally let go. The last shard of your heart crushed in his grip.
Silence is the only answer he gives you, and without looking up, you push him to move so you can get away from him. Instead of allowing you to leave, he brings one hand to your cheek, engulfing it in warmth, and drags your face upwards to meet his eyes.
Before you can read his expression, he ducks his head down, letting his lips graze over yours. His tongue comes out to swipe over your lower lip in a slow, gentle caress that feels more sensual than anything you’ve ever experienced, and in retaliation your greedy arms pull him closer, eagerly kissing him back. There’s a slow urgency to the way his tongue seeks out yours, bending your body backwards to taste you deeper. You relish in it.
You want him to eat you up. To devour you completely. You’re his anyway.
Without breaking the kiss, Aemond leads you down the dark hallway and into a dimly lit room. The only thing you register is a large bed in the middle, where he takes a seat and keeps you standing between his legs, still kissing you.
His hands roam over your body; over your exposed arms and legs. They find the zipper at the back of your dress and pull it down, slowly undressing you until you're completely bare.
He stands for a brief moment to rid himself of his own clothes, and then sits again, guiding you to climb onto his lap.
You follow his every command in enchantment. You grant him every kiss he seeks, allow him every touch he craves. He can have it all.
He guides you to sink down on him slowly. You’re still so wet, yet he’s so hard your insides are forced to mould after his stiffness.
Once he fills each part of you, he wraps your legs around his waist, sighing in satisfaction as he presses your body so close to his the skin of your torso sticks to his.
“I won’t last long-”, he whispers into your ear, “-a 6 month wait is excruciating”
The touch that you’ve known as harsh and demanding is now so soft. So delicate it slowly picks up the shattered pieces of your broken heart and mends them together again with each gentle caress.
Your hands cup his cheeks, gazing into his lilac and blue stare as you slowly begin to move.
Aemond doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say that one phrase that you want him to, but the look in his eyes is mesmerising. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable. It’s intimate.
He’s giving himself to you.
You wrap your arms around him, accepting him. You want all of him, all to yourself. You’ve wanted him for half a year. You’ve wanted him since the first time you met him.
He meets your hips each time you sink down, and the otherwise carnal pursuit for pleasure feels dreamlike as Aemond’s arms envelop you and you disappear into him.
You want to say it, but not yet. You don’t dare. Would he retreat again? You know it to be true, but it’s too early. Maybe someday.
Instead, it’s Aemond who speaks over the moans and sighs of pleasure,
“Don’t leave me again”
You don’t know how long you fuck, but each orgasm feels more consuming, more powerful, than the last. Ultimately, you collapse together on the bed, legs and arms still intertwined. The familiarity of Aemond’s heavy arms over your waist soothes you, yet the soft sheets of the bed provide a stark contrast to the stiff, clinical sheets of the hotel rooms he’d always brought you to before.
There’s nothing left between you, no more layers to shed, so you ask him about everything that had led up to your separation. About how he dismissed you in front of his mother, and about the text from his brother. The latter seems to genuinely surprise him,
“I’ve never shared your pictures with anyone, especially not him”
Guess Aegon Targaryen isn’t above snooping through his brother’s stuff.
You talk all night, and Aemond tells you about his strained relationship with his family, “My family has an ability to ruin things for me”, he confesses, “I didn’t want that to happen with you”
As the rays of sunrise begin to seep through the window, you admit to the loneliness that’s been eating away at you since parting from Aemond.
He cups your cheek again, thumb stroking your cheekbone,
“I fucked up. I’ve missed you more than I thought possible”
Your loneliness hadn’t been solitary. He’d felt it too. You’d shared it.
You lay your head on his chest, listening to the slow drum of his heart. Before it lulls you to sleep, you remember the last thing you’d like to ask him,
“Aemond, where are we?”
“My place”
A/N: I never know if I should write it as come or cum? After some studious research (not), I decided that come is the original and therefore works better! Thank you for reading, I write these drabble for fun to improve my writing, so don't be too harsh please 🫶🩵
#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen smut#aemond x reader#aemond fanfiction#aemond fic#modern aemond#modern!aemond#my fics
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need you close;



summary: when your busy schedule leaves logan feeling neglected, he craves your attention in his own way—by showing up with small, thoughtful gestures and lingering touches that hint at his pent-up need. despite his rugged exterior, logan’s vulnerability shines through as he tries to remind you he’s still there, waiting.
word count: 1k
a/n: okay so this was originally a headcanon idea but this was my most popular headcanon so I definitely wanted to post it as a one shot! always feel free to leave an ask if you guys want anymore logan themed headcanons or fics!
Logan wasn’t used to being ignored. Or at least, not by you. It had been weeks since you’d been swamped with work, and while you appreciated his support, you couldn’t help but feel the strain on your relationship. He’d never say it, not out loud at least, but Logan was needy, and he craved your attention like nothing else.
The soft scratch of a pen met your ears, but you didn’t even look up from your laptop. Logan stood by the counter, lazily scribbling something on a piece of paper. He’d been in and out of your office all day, never staying long but always making his presence known. His scent—musky, earthy, all Logan—lingered long after he’d leave. It used to comfort you, but now it only reminded you of the time you couldn’t give him.
You sighed, leaning back in your chair. “Logan, I’m really busy.”
Without missing a beat, he crossed the room and placed a steaming cup of your favorite coffee on the desk. His fingers lingered, brushing against yours as he slid the cup toward you. You glanced up and caught the faintest smirk on his lips.
“Thought you could use a pick-me-up,” he grumbled, leaning in closer. His warm breath fanned over your cheek, and you could feel the tension melt from your muscles, despite how desperately you needed to focus. “Been workin’ too hard.”
“Thanks,” you muttered, trying to sound casual, but your voice betrayed you. The way his hands rested on your shoulders—rough yet tender—sent shivers down your spine. He started massaging the knots in your shoulders, his fingers kneading the tension from your overworked muscles. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this—missed him—until now.
“You need a break, darlin’,” Logan muttered, his voice low and rough, sending a familiar heat through your body. “Can’t have you burnin’ out on me.”
You chuckled, but the sound was weak. “I’ll take a break soon, I promise.”
Logan let out a soft grunt, clearly unsatisfied with your answer. But instead of arguing, he pulled back, leaving a small note on the corner of your desk before disappearing from the room. You picked it up, your heart softening at the sight of his messy handwriting: Missin’ you. Don’t forget to take a break.
For a moment, you considered following him. You could see the hurt in his eyes, the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. But you had deadlines to meet, work piling up faster than you could keep up with. You’d make it up to him later—at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.
The next few days were more of the same. Logan was always around, but never directly demanding your attention. He’d leave notes scattered around your workspace—short, sweet messages like Thinkin’ ‘bout you or We’re overdue for some time together. He brought you food, sometimes your favorite meal, other times just a snack to keep you going. He’d make excuses to touch you, his hands lingering on your back or brushing against your arm as he walked by.
But you noticed the shift. His touches were growing more possessive, more intense, as if he was trying to remind you that he was still here, waiting for you to give him the attention he so desperately needed.
One evening, you returned home from a long day at work, exhausted and drained. You dropped your bag by the door and collapsed on the couch, barely managing to kick off your shoes. Within seconds, Logan was beside you, pulling you into his lap without a word.
“Logan, I’m—”
“Shh.” His arms wrapped around you, and you could feel the weight of his need in the way he held you, so tight you thought he might never let go. “You’re always busy, darlin’. Let me take care of you.”
The frustration in his voice was clear, but so was the affection. He wasn’t angry—he was hurt. Hurt that you hadn’t been giving him the time he needed. You felt a pang of guilt as you melted into his embrace, feeling the heat of his body against yours.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your head resting against his chest. His heart thudded steadily beneath your ear, a comforting sound that you hadn’t realized you’d missed. “I’ve been so caught up in work, I didn’t mean to—”
“Stop apologizin’,” Logan interrupted, his voice softer than before. He buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. “Just... don’t do it again, alright? I miss you.”
You nodded, your heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. Logan wasn’t the type to openly express his emotions, but the way he held you now—tight, protective, needy—said more than words ever could.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair. “I’ve been patient,” he muttered, his voice rumbling through his chest. “But I need you. Not just here, but with me. You get what I’m sayin’?”
“I do,” you replied softly, shifting to look up at him. His eyes met yours, and you could see the raw emotion swirling in them—jealousy, frustration, but above all, love. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around much.”
Logan grunted, but this time there was a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Guess I can forgive you, but only ‘cause I know how hard you’ve been workin’. Just don’t make a habit of it.”
You laughed, feeling the tension in your chest ease. “I’ll try not to.”
He leaned down, brushing his lips against yours in a soft, lingering kiss that made your heart race. You could feel the heat of his need, the way he poured every bit of his pent-up affection into the kiss. It was almost overwhelming, but in the best way possible.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “I’m not gonna stop remindin’ you I’m here,” he said, his voice low and rough. “You’re mine, darlin’. Don’t forget that.”
You smiled, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. “I won’t forget.”
For the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to relax completely in his arms, savoring the warmth of his touch and the strength of his embrace. Logan wasn’t one to be needy often, but when he was, it only made you fall harder for him.
And maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what you needed too.
#james logan howlett#logan#logan howlett#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x fem!reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan wolverine#wolverine#the wolverine#wolverine imagine#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#my writing#my fics#my fanfiction#my work
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satellite | jjk



plot | Your friend, Jungkook, offers to help you while you review for your human anatomy exam.
w.c | 3K
genre | fluff, slight angst, fwb (but nothing 18+ happened)
pairing | jungkook x medstudent!reader
note | written from my own swamp of academic-related activities
main masterlist | playlist

JK
u up?
You
yep
i'm studying
exams tomorrow
JK
:(
can i come over
You
yes but don't be a distraction
JK
u know i can't help it 😪
You
🙄
i'm busy stop texting me
JK
will be there in five
You
door's open no need to knock
JK
see u 😉

Maybe you should have just pursued a course in creative writing... Or maybe culinary arts. Maybe something connected with baking. You love baking, right?
Maybe if you picked a college program based on your hobbies, you have better sleep. Maybe you are happier. At 11:51 PM, maybe you are already sleeping soundly on your bed, next to your emotional support stuffed toy, with your favorite weighted blanket on your exhausted being.
But you didn't. You can't.
So here you are, sitting in a swamp of written notes, books, and colorful post-its (that you haven't found any helpful use yet), having a crisis over your career choices.
"You want this, YN." you remind yourself, shaking your head.
Your digital clock on your study desk just ticked the time to 11:52 PM. It has been almost three hours since you began your planned all-nighter for tomorrow's exam.
"I want to cry." you sighed, your forehead softly hitting your desk. "But I don't have the time for that."
Groaning, you opened one of the textbooks you borrowed from the library. You tried to process every word you came across. But considering that you went straight from your eight-hour shift from your part-time job, you only managed to comprehend half of the sentences you read.
"I wish I was born as a nepo-baby."
Another random thought rolled off your tongue instead of understanding where the hell the spine of the scapula is. Admittedly, you find it hard to locate the muscles in the human body when you only have a 2D version of it. But you don't have those 3D models that can help you to learn and remember better, so you will settle for pointing your index fingers at flat images on the book pages.
"Trapezius... Acromion... Deltoid..."
Reciting the muscles in the familiar tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star", you began pointing to certain areas of your body. It was one of the studying techniques you have been using since you were younger. So far, it's helping. You keep doing it for the other parts.
"Subscapularis..."
But the longer you sang, the words slowly rambled in your tongue and your eyelids got heavier. You were so close to drifting away until you heard the familiar click of your door. Your head snapped up instantly. You hear his voice greeting your roommate who's probably watching her favorite show in the living room.
"Pizza and ice cream. Want some?" you heard him offer.
He brought food?! Of course, he did. He's Jungkook. For the first time since you sat in front of your study desk, a smile formed on your lips. Shaking your head, you just read your notes again. It didn't take long for your bedroom door to open. The scent of a freshly baked pizza filled every corner of your room. And there, you see him coming in with a smile on his pierced lips.
"Oh, hello, gorgeous."
Jungkook was surprised to see you already looking at him when he entered your room. Usually, he would find your nose dipped between your textbooks when he visits during your study sessions.
You rolled your eyes at the nickname, "I know, I looked like a mess right now. Just give me my prized pizza and ice cream please."
He laughed, not because he agreed with you, but because you are always quick to turn down his micro-flirting. He sometimes thinks that it keeps him grounded.
"And you got the coffee ones! This is why you're my favorite hookup buddy." you quipped before kissing his cheek, elated by the ice cream he got you.
"I'm honored. Thank you." he replied, before getting a slice of pizza.
Both of you know that you don't have any other hookup buddy. You're not that adventurous. It's just something you joke about.
"How's the studying going?" he asked before sitting on your bed.
"Shit." you shake your head, tired. "But this ice cream makes me feel a little better."
Jungkook smiled at that. He listened as you went on telling him about something that happened in your shift earlier today. But he ended up studying you. Because contrary to what you said earlier, you are too pretty, he finds it distracting. You were tired, it's written on your face. But the way your eyes light up as you share your story makes your face glow. With your desk lamp being the only light in your room, it perfectly highlights the small smile on your lips after you take another spoonful of the cold dessert.
"Why did you come here anyway?"
Your sudden question snaps Jungkook out of his daze. He cleared his throat.
"I-I'm bored and you're up."
He was not bored. In fact, he missed a party he was invited to tonight because it has been four days since he last saw you. He was busy with his training and practice, while you were working two jobs and studying. You two were just texting each other these days and with how rare you reply during the daytime, he knew that tonight is probably the best time to see you.
You sigh, "I told you, I'm studying for tomorrow. I can't do anything with you right now."
"And I didn't say we have to do anything. I'm just happy to be here. I'm like little Bear right there." he replied, pointing to your stuffed toy who was sitting next to him.
"Okay, I'll go back to studying. Is that okay?" you asked, putting on the lid of your half-finished ice cream.
He winked, "Of course."

Jungkook is that person you probably know for too long. Like, someone you should have met only once or twice or occasionally. Not like this, in which you see each other almost every day.
When Liz, your roommate, introduced you two to each other during some Halloween party, in which you came as Dorothy from The Wizards of Oz and he was Peter Pan, you did not expect to start any kind of connection with him. You remembered thinking to yourself how exhausting it was to have him around with how he seemed so full of energy, not knowing then that he also enjoyed the same little things you did. You two became real friends after bumping into one another in a record store an hour away from your uni.
Because you feel that you two always stood on opposite ends of any scale. You were a reserved working student with introverted tendencies while on the opposite, Jungkook is a known varsity star, who's rumored to be a CEO's son (He is. He admitted it to you), on campus with a charm that works for everyone. Just like how great he is at playing basketball, he is equally good at socializing and making new connections. That charm definitely worked for you a year ago because one thing led to another and now, he is in your bed, casually scrolling on his phone.
"Why do you have a camera with you?" you broke the silence after reading for god knows how long. Yet, you are unsure if you picked up anything from it.
He looked up, reaching for the camera bag he brought with him earlier, "It's a new one, my dad brought it to me as a gift."
"For what? Your birthday was like three months ago," you asked even though you already had an answer in your head.
"I helped him with some documents," he replied, knowing that you would say something after.
"Spoiled." you teased him.
"Haters gonna hate," he responded with a sassy roll of his eyes, you laughed. "Anyway, I'm kinda testing it out. So, if you don't mind..."
He placed the camera in front of him, aligning its viewfinder to his left eye. You put the back of your hand under your chin with a tight smile on your lips, posing. Click. A shutter sound and a bright flash followed. You see Jungkook look down at his camera to check the outcome. A small smile forms on his lips.
"You have too many pictures of me," you told him.
Every single time you two are together, he takes a picture of you. You don't really mind even though some shots are candid. Some of the pictures of you he took are the only ones you have on your Instagram. He's good at it, but sometimes, you worry you will get used to being his muse.
"I'm thinking of making an exhibition out of it." he said.
Sensing his sarcasm, you ride on with it, "Yeah, you can title it with something like, The Life Of An Overworked Twenty-Something Student. I looked exhausted in all those photos. An ugly, dry potato."
"I think you look pretty in all of them."
And it didn't help that he complimented you a lot after taking pictures of you. It just scares you that you feel a light feeling in your stomach when you see him smile after taking a shot of you or when he calls you gorgeous or pretty.
But instead of letting the giddy feeling show, you just smiled, "Of course you do, you're sleeping with me. You will always find me attractive."

It was almost an hour later when Jungkook paused the video he was watching on his phone to once again try his camera. A camera nerd, he was watching a clip about his new camera's settings. Of course, he was in his earphones so that he wouldn't get to distract you.
After modifying some parts of the settings, Jungkook placed his camera in front of his right eye, ready to capture another picture of you. But before he could click the button, he noticed your shoulders shaking.
His right eyebrow raised as he slowly put down his camera.
"YN?"
He heard you hiccup before humming, "Hmm?"
"YN, can you look at me?" he asked since you kept your back turned to him.
"Not now, I'm busy." you sobbed, failing to hide from Jungkook.
He frowned, getting up from your bed, "YN, baby..."
"No, I said-"
Before you could continue denying, Jungkook already pulled the swivel chair you were sitting on closer to him. You covered your face with your palms since you hated crying in front of anyone. Jungkook tries to remove it softly but you shake your head.
"Please, let me see your face. It's okay," he whispered while his thumbs drew circles at the back of your hands. Finally, you listened and let him hold down your hands.
"Shh..." he hushed you, wiping the tears on your cheeks. "What's going on? Are you okay? Is there any way that I can help you?"
"I-I cannot remember anything and I'm just so tired." you broke down, feeling the exhaustion from both studying and working finally creeping up in your body.
"Then, take a break. Let's nap." he offered, knowing how much you need it.
You cried even more, "I can't nap. My exams are tomorrow and I can't understand anything I've been reading so far."
He clicked his tongue in disagreement, "I'll wake you up in thirty minutes. How about that?"
While his offer seemed ideal for you, the pressure for what is coming tomorrow is heavily sitting on your shoulders. But you're really tired.
"Just nap?" you asked, making sure that it won't lead to anything else.
"Yeah— Okay, maybe cuddle." he shrugged.
"Okay." I kinda need that.
"Okay. C'mere, my snotty baby." He cooed.
You glared at him before slapping his chest. He laughed, catching your hand and pulling you to him on your bed. You fell on top instead of your mattress, feeling his toned body under you. His chin rests on the top of your head as he draws circles on your lower back.
"Let's do anything you want after your exams," he mumbled.
You exhaled, "Why celebrate? I am not even sure if I can pass it."
"You will. You're the smartest person I know."
This isn't the first time Jungkook saw you broke down over academic reasons. He knew how much you value your studies as someone who has always been an achiever since you began studying. It didn't help that your mom expects quite a lot from you, based on what you told him.
You looked up to meet his eyes, "Thank you."
He simply kissed your forehead, "Of course, babe."

You did find yourself feeling much better after your 30-minute rest. But, you also found something else when you woke five minutes ago next to Jungkook. It's something that can probably help you study.
"Take off your shirt," you whispered as you rested your head on his arm.
"Why?" he asked, suspicious.
"I think you can help me study," you said, sitting up on the bed.
Jungkook sat next to you, "I thought we were just cuddling."
"Jungkook." you called him. "Please, just do it."
"Okay, I will. You know I can't say no when you beg, babe." he teased.
You watched him reach for the back of his shirt and remove it over his head. With how cold your room is, Jungkook immediately crossed his arms over his chest, making his muscles bulge before you. You were quiet, squinting your eyes on his arms.
Feeling a little conscious and confused, Jungkook spoke, "It's a little chilly here. What now?"
"Wait, let me get my sticky notes."

"You know, I should be paid for this," Jungkook spoke, covered in neon-colored sticky notes from his neck to his back and arms. "I am like your model."
"You are my 3d model." you laughed while tracing his body with your finger to look where you could stick your next label. "I'm too broke to buy one so just be my friend and let me put some sticky notes on you."
"I'll just buy you one." he offered and he's serious. If it's something that can help you, he'll buy it for you.
"You sound like the spoiled kid you are." you joked.
"I like it when you keep me humble and grounded," he reacted sarcastically. Out of a hundred people he knows on the campus, you are the only one who always reminds him of his privileges. He found it annoying at first but now, he just finds it funny.
"I know, it shows especially when you get all submissive sometimes." you joked again, scrunching your nose at him.
"Why won't you just let me spend money on you?" he asked, recalling the other scenarios he tried buying or doing something for you. But you were quick to decline him, especially if it's connected with money.
You stopped and stared at him, "For the tenth time, Jeon, I will not be your sugar baby."
"Or you can just be my... baby," he whispered, but since you are the only awake people in this house at this time of the day, you still heard that.
Your eyebrows scrunched, looking at him. Visibly cringing at what he said, you pushed his face with a laugh. You hear him chuckle lowly.
"If you want someone to be your baby, you should be asking girls out, not signing up for a friends-with-benefits-type of relationship with me," you mumbled while writing a certain body part on your notepad.
It is part of your agreement that this thing you two have will end once one of you starts dating again. But the idea of him asking girls out after literally sleeping on your bed for the last twelve months still made your heart sink a little. You cannot imagine how your future will be without him, you still haven't thought that far.
"I know..." he whispered. But you're not up for any commitment. He wanted to say that. Instead, he replied, "But you give the best blowjob ever. How can I look for someone else?"
You laughed again. God, he loves making you laugh. It's like a melody playing in his head.
"Yeah, I know. It will be hard to find someone better than me. I'm the best."
Yes, you are. He agreed, almost saying it if you haven't spoke to soon.
"Now, please, can you stop moving? My notes are falling everywhere."

"Hi, I'm Mabel."
It's been days since that night. Now, a blonde, blue-eyed girl offered her hand to Jungkook while he prepared to leave the campus with his car after his basketball training. Jungkook, being polite, introduced himself even though he was not really interested. He continued making sure he got all his stuff in his backpack as the girl continued saying that they had two classes together. When he was done checking, she spoke,
"I think you're really cute and was wondering if we could go out sometime? Maybe we can grab some coffee together?"
Jungkook scratched the back of his head, feeling bad for what he was about to say to this seeming freshman before him. A tight smile forms on his lips. This isn't the first confession he got in his lifetime, but rejecting someone is always hard.
"Wow... uhm... I'm sure you're a really wonderful person, Mabel. But I'm not really interested in dating anyone right now. I'm sorry."
The familiar flustered face instantly showed up on Mabel's face, "Oh, okay. Uhm, thank you for your time. Nice to meet you though."
Jungkook was not even able to reply before she ran away. It didn't took him too long to dwell on that interaction when he got a message from you.
YN 🩺
I PASSED
COME OVER!!!!1!
Jungkook smiled after reading that, feeling your relief and excitement. He typed in a reply before hopping in his car.
JK
I KNEW U CAN DO IT
SO PROUD OF YOUUU
WILL BE THERE IN FIVE ;)

note | scheduled as my first post for 2025 :) thank you so much for reading!
ps. will probably delete this later on
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SHE’S MINE | 02
-SO I HOPE AND PRAY YOU MAKE IT WORTH IT.
synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers.
genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut
pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader
warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan
word count ┊ 3.2k
author’s note ┊ YAPPEE! part two officially out- so sorry for the wait EUEUEU… hehe hope the things that happen in this chapter make up for it being a few days late :p also, i will not be accepting anymore tag list requests! this is due to the amount of users that i can tag per post T^T … nonetheless, i hope you guys enjoy the chap! happy reading :D
p.s. i will be blocking the people who message me (rudely) to “hurry up” with the next chapters. i understand most, if not, all of you are excited to read the next chapters, but please do understand that i have my own schedule too :,)
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YOU HELD YOUR HEAD IN YOUR HANDS, GROANING INTO YOUR PALMS. In front of you sat the thorn at your side, Ken Sato. He had just finished reading- or rather, skimming through the files you had stayed up compiling. You peeked at him through your fingers before standing up to erase yet another column of pros and cons from the board.
Taking a swig from the energy drink he had brought you, you shake your head as you try to figure out what to do next. Truth be told, you were just eager to leave. You had two weeks left until you could finally let these burdensome tasks go, all you wanted was for Ken to go along with your last few instructions so as to make your exit easier.
“I don’t get what’s so hard about this, Ken.” You say, turning back around to face him. “You pick a girl, you ‘date’ her for a bit, and then you ‘split up’ amicably. Simple as that.”
He tilted his head at you, a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Oh sure, yeah. Let me just go out with a random girl and act like I’m head over heels in love with her.”
“Yes, exactly that.” You reply with the same tone, going back to your seat. “Now you’re getting it!”
He rolls his eyes, placing the stapled papers back on your desk. “I get it, I fucked up. But I still don’t get why you’re so…” He pauses, pressing his lips into a thin line and gesturing with his hands. “Persistent in actually trying to get me to date someone for the sake of my screw up.”
“And I don’t get why I have to keep reminding you of why I need to do this.” You lean back into your chair while pinching the bridge of your nose. “You were the one who-”
“-’Told the entire world you were in love’, yes I know! You’ve only said that like, what, a hundred times over?” He cuts you off, crossing his arms. “I know what I did. But I also know that I have a choice in this matter, don’t I?”
You go to reply but stop when you register his words. You knew that, obviously, which is why you had multiple plans. You were giving him the chance to choose, were you not? The various notes and drafted project plans were proof of that. They were all laid out right in front of him, what more could he possibly want? You look at him briefly, your eyes scanning his expression before darting back to the things scattered atop your desk.
“I’m giving you choices.” You say flatly, slowly looking back up at him.
“No, you’re giving me options and expecting me to choose.” He counters, his hand gesturing towards the papers. “I’m talking about my choice. My plan, suggestion, whatever you want to call it.”
“So what is your plan? Because as far as I’m concerned, you don’t seem to actually have one.” You reply, brows slightly furrowing at his stubbornness.
“And that’s the point. I don’t need a plan,” He pauses, pointing his finger directly onto one of the outlines and it towards you. “I just need to ride it out.”
You let out a scoff, stunned at how Ken was still treating this so lightly. The corners of your lips tug up a bit, and you end up letting out a soft laugh in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.”
“Am I, though?” He leans back, maintaining eye contact with you. “It’s the choice that takes the least effort. And besides, I thought you liked it when I kept things private.”
“Oh, don’t circle this back to me.” You say, pointing a finger at him. “Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to address your little mishaps?”
“Yes, I do. Which is why I’m trying to help you.” He says a-matter-of-factly, his eyebrows raising as if to emphasize how much he understands what your job entails.
“No, you don’t.” You argue back, mimicking his crossed arms.
“Were you always this stubborn?” Ken says, catching you off guard.
You feel your features scrunch up in confusion and annoyance, narrowed eyes slanting even more as this back-and-forth of yours keeps going. “You’re one to talk.”
At that he smirks slightly, rolling his eyes as he pokes a tongue into his cheek. The audacity of this man to act annoyed. You think, all the while you continue to glare at him. You close your eyes for the umpteenth time that morning, taking in a deep breath as your nails dig into your palms. Despite wanting to calm yourself down, his words rang in your head like an unwanted mantra.
His choice.
Would it be so bad to give Ken free reign on this? Granted, he was the one who caused it. Why be the one to clean up his mess- again, for that matter? You pinch the bridge of your nose, shaking your head once more. You could never understand how his mind worked, and you figured you probably never would. You tapped against the desk with your pen, bouncing your leg as you pondered on what to do.
Your plan? Everything sets sail smoothly, with only the liability being either party slips up. Which, in your defense, you could cover up in the blink of an eye. His plan? No plotline with room for spontaneous detail sharing whenever he pleased. More work for you, more freedom for him. You stopped tapping then, clicking your pen into place. In your moment of contemplation, you had realized then this entire thing was useless. His plan, your plan, all the plans. None of them mattered, not if the end result was going to be the same.
Goddamnit, you hated Ken Sato.
You flip one of the stapled pieces of paper over, drawing over the blank side. “The start of your first full season with the Giants is in less than fourteen days. By then we would need to have already released another press release- ideally before your conference.”
Ken jumps slightly, caught off guard by your sudden return to work mode. He watches as you line up different keywords with boxy arrows, all of which lead up to the ‘end’ of his lie. “What exactly am I looking at?”
You flash him a smile, albeit a fake one, and slide the paper to him. “Your plan.” Leaning back in your chair, you make a show of stretching your arms. “You’re right, we should go with your plan.”
He laughs then, noting the lingering hints of sarcasm in your tone. “[Y/N], what are you doing?”
“Giving you your choice.” You reply with a small shrug.
“Yeah, I can see that.” He says, his smile slightly faltering. “But… why?”
“It’s your life, isn’t it?” You tilt your head to the side, your lips pressed into a thin line.
Now it’s his turn to be confused and annoyed. The way he understood this, you were letting him win. You were waving a white flag, surrendering to his incessant pleading. He scrunched his brows, still trying to process your words. You continued to sit there, waiting eerily patiently for him to respond.
“And you’re serious about this?” He questions once more, hesitant to believe that you of all people would back down so quickly.
“Mhm,” You hum, fiddling with your thumbs. “I’m just your assistant. Well, for two more weeks, that is.”
He felt like he was being played. He blinked at you, mouth slightly agape. The you that was sitting in front of him now was different from the you thirty-six hours ago. Yesterday, you were desperate for him to follow your plans. He recalled your words, ‘If you're actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.’ But now that you’re telling him to do exactly what he wants, he’s nervous.
Nervous that he finally caused you to hate him for good.
“If you’re done sitting there like I said something stupid, you can go. Coach wants to see the team, it’d be in your best favor not to be on his bad side two weeks before playoffs.” You say, not even looking at him directly.
He clears his throat, licking his lips. “Right, well, okay.” He stands up, sliding himself into his jacket before walking towards the door. “See you, then.”
You only hum in response, still not looking at him as you continue fixing all of the papers on your desk. Just before he’s fully out of your office though, you call out to him.
“Yeah?” He answers immediately, peeking his head through the door.
“Have fun riding it out.” You say, flashing him a smile. A real one, this time.
A WEEK HAD GONE BY JUST LIKE THAT. Surprisingly, Ken had been able to keep things under control. Even his comments to street paparazzis were concise, almost as if you were the one who coached him his lines. While you had expected him to do nothing, just as he suggested, you hadn’t expected him to last this long without an intervention from you.
You sat by your window as your body sunk into your armchair, your eyes threatening to close. The early blue hues of the morning had started to break through the night sky, the clouds slowly parting to clear the sky. You typed vigorously against the keys of your laptop, eyes following the blinking cursor to prevent yourself from falling asleep right then and there.
You had been up for hours constructing your updated résumé, keeping all your needed information concise and in one page. Despite having a well-rounded history in regards to jobs, the lingering fear of keeping yourself afloat was an inevitable burden you were scared of accidentally fulfilling. You had family, yes, but relying on them did something to your pride. Most especially since you had been low-contact ever since you abruptly moved to the city.
Seeking help from friends was another option that was off the table. In all your years of working in the entertainment industry, the amount of people you had let into your life dwindled as you realized people’s true intentions. You had merely three people left in your life, and that was by far more than enough to keep you sane throughout the rest of your life.
You sighed heavily, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. Truth be told, despite the factor of having to deal with Ken, this job has been the best in terms of your benefits. He was much like you- little circle, low-contact. Even his own team was a limited number, leaving you to deal with other jobs and tasks that would otherwise be done by different people. Yes, the workload was tiring, but the pay was enough to keep you alive ten times over. You could only say a silent prayer to whoever was listening to bless you once more once you let go of this for good.
You sat back, finally satisfied with the way your page was laid out. You faced towards your window, closing your eyes as your breathing steadied. The birds were starting to chirp, the sun casting a foggy glow through the clouds. In this moment of solitude, you allowed yourself to relax; it was more than deserved. Not like anything could happen in your sleep, right?
WRONG, SO VERY WRONG. You groaned as you were awakened by the continuous buzzing of your phone. At first you had thought it was an alarm you had accidentally forgotten to shut off, but when it continued on, you eventually had to force yourself to wake up.
The sun was high up now, bright rays peeking through your blinds. You squinted, uncurling yourself from your chair as you got up and stretched. You yawned, scratching your head as you finally unlocked your phone. You were greeted with an endless stream of notifications, your mail app and other social media platforms pinging by the second. There was also the factor of the loud noise outside, though you made it out to be some kind of commotion or parade.
Your screen then flashed the caller ID of an unknown number, followed by another sea of notifications. You blink yourself awake, now slightly worried at just how much texts and emails you had been receiving. Did Ken do something? Did someone die? Did Ken die?
Before you could even open any of the messages, you hear the familiar ringtone of one of your closest friends. You slide to answer, pressing your phone up to your ear. “Ami? What’s up, what’s wrong?”
She laughed, and you could practically see her shaking her head at you. “I’m guessing you just woke up? Check literally any news outlet right now, you’re gonna wanna see this.”
What the hell was going on? You mumbled something in reply, putting her on speaker as you did what she asked.
You wished you hadn’t. In bold, bright red letters, the article’s headline read:
Extra Innings in the Press Box: Ken Sato’s Hidden Romance with Assistant Revealed!
What you saw next nearly had you chucking your phone into the nearest wall. Attached right under the headline was you and Ken. You and Ken. You let out a curse, and you could hear the sighs coming from Ami on the other line. The picture was clearly shot from a hidden vantage point, the branches from the trees blocking the camera proof of it. Despite the distance, though, yours and Ken’s faces were clearly visible.
“What the fuck!” You yell, now fully awake eyes wide in confusion. “When was this released? H-How did-”
“Two hours ago. Apparently some passerby sold the picture to the press, and said passerby just happened to be paparazzi.” Ami cuts you off, her tone serious yet concerned. “Trust me, if I had known something like this was going to be released, I would’ve done something about it.”
You left your phone on the kitchen counter as you paced back and forth, your hand glued to your forehead as you tried to wrap your mind around what was happening. Obviously it wasn’t true, you of all people knew that. But nobody else did, and that was the problem.
“Ami what the hell is happening?” You manage to breathe out, still pacing. “This is all so-”
“Much? Yeah, I know.” She cuts you off again, and you can hear the bustling sounds from her office. “My own publisher is on my neck for this, God only knows what you’re going through. Are you okay? If you need help this could technically be classified as invasion of-”
“I do need help because this whole thing isn’t-” You start, but are ultimately cut off again when you hear the sounds grow louder outside.
“[Y/N]? ‘You there?” Ami’s muffled voice calls out as you walk towards your window, peeking down to where the commotion was coming from.
“Oh shit.” You gasp out, eyes widening even more as you realize the noises were coming from the sea of reporters and photographers waiting outside your townhouse.
You swallowed hard, stepping back from the window with a hand to your mouth. This cannot be happening, this had to be some sick nightmare. Stumbling towards your phone, you mumbled some reply about needing to go before abruptly hanging up the call. Rude, perhaps, but Ami would understand.
In the span of two hours of that damn article being released, eager and greedy gossip outlets had found your address and swarmed your only safe space. You held your phone close to your chest, running up to your room as you tried to catch your breath. You closed your eyes once more, breathing in and out heavily. The more you tried to convince yourself that this wasn’t happening, the more you slowly realized that it actually was.
You opened your phone once more, muting all your socials and other messaging apps. You needed to think, and you needed to act fast. By memory, your fingers automatically scroll for Ken’s legal team. Having gotten him out of falsified defamations multiple times, acting during these types of situations was almost a second habit. But this didn’t involve just him, it involved you. You were a part of this mess, you couldn’t be the one to solve it.
A mantra of curses conjured up in your head, and you delete the previous number you had dialed in. Think, damnit. Think, think, think. You thought to yourself, nervously chewing on your bottom lip as you prayed for a solution to be presented to you. An alternative popped up into your brain then. Albeit that alternative was stupid, but it was something.
You dialed his number, anxiously waiting as it rang.
KEN WAS ON HIS BREAK, SITTING ON THE BENCH AS HE WIPED THE SWEAT OFF HIS FOREHEAD. Playoffs were about to start, and Shimura was working them to the bone to make sure everyone had their head in the game. He let out a deep breath through his nose, arms resting on his knees as tried to calm down after a few laps around the stadium. The rest of his teammates seemed to be reacting obnoxiously over something, though he didn’t have the energy to feign enthusiasm.
One of his teammates teasingly nudged him then, giving him a playful grin. “Your secret’s out, huh? All this time you were with her.”
Ken laughed it off, still oblivious to the fact that nearly all of Japan now knew the face of his supposed girlfriend. He noted the specification in his tone, as if he were referring to a mutual friend of theirs. Which, again, was impossible- nobody but you knew the secret he was hiding. He gave them a nod before returning back to his own space.
He felt his watch buzz against his wrist, and he was all but surprised to see you calling him on your day off. He sat up straight then, grabbing his phone to answer the call. He had to admit, he answered a little too excitedly. Or nervously. He couldn’t differentiate the two, not when it involved you. Ever since the start of this stunt, something in him shifts whenever you or anything related to you gets mentioned. He brushed it off as some sort of familiarity attachment, the weight of your sudden resignation still heavy on his shoulders.
Was he sad to let you go? Maybe, he wasn’t entirely sure. Aside from the fact that he had Mina, you did your job well. You knew the ins and outs of everything he liked and disliked, you kept him organized and on track. Sure, losing you would be another hurdle he would have to get over, but that doesn’t mean he would be… impotent without you. He clears his throat before he finally brings the phone up to his ear.
“Hey-” He starts, but stops when he notices the frantic panic in your voice. “Woah, hey slow down. What happened?”
“You happened.” You reply then, albeit through a shaky breath.
“What?” He questions, brows furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s exactly as I said. You happened,” You paused, taking in a deep breath. “And now I need your help. Please.”
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