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qwimchii · 7 months

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𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 (𝘱𝘵 3) — 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘙𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘺

𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯!𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯’𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴, 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘤 — 2.2k

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 —𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘺 & 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 <3, 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘥𝘢𝘤𝘳𝘺𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘴…

note: this is a little preface before pt 1 and before Simon went radio silent for like 2 months…

pt 1, pt 2

the only thing that scared Simon Riley was sleep.

he hated waking up in the middle of the night in an empty apartment more than anything, tangled awkwardly in the bedsheets and mind firing after a nightmare. he’d scramble for the knife in the drawer of his nightstand before realizing, the cool grip of the handle in his fingers, he was home.

home. he slowly put down the knife and ran his fingers through his hair. this didn’t feel like home.

he’d leave the cramped bedroom space to slide into the kitchen, too small for his big stature, as he threw a kettle on the stove to heat up some water. he’d do it to keep his mind busy, to distant himself from the distorted images in his nightmares, but the only thing that’d help was slurping down a scalding mug of tea even if it burnt his tongue.

even then, it didn’t really help. his tongue was numb to the pain anyways.

sometimes, he didn’t see anything in his sleep. just a pitch black, wracking silence and a choking sense of dread in his throat when he jolted awake. pure dread.

that’s all it was, he told himself, moving to the living room and past the front door. past the front door.

his eyes flitted to it from the couch, a worn burgundy red and flecked with chips in the wood.

there was always a second option to quelling the burning hours after nightmares.

his neighbor.

he swallowed down the chamomile tea, practically slamming the empty mug onto the glass coffee table that rattled in protest. he leaned his elbows against his knees, pitching forward as he rubbed at his eyes. tired. he was so tired, and all he could think of was his neighbor’s pretty eyes. and that pretty, short dress that hung off the curve of her tight ass.

he screwed his eyes shut. the thoughts of his nightmares drifted further from him as he imagined what it’d be like to just reach out and grip the back of your thigh, snagging the hem of your dress so it was tight against your ass, so he could just stare at the flesh of it while you bent over to put a batch of cookies in the oven.

“fuck,” he whispered, rubbing over the stubble of his jaw.

he could imagine the surprised look you’d give him over your shoulder, wide and innocent as he fondled your ass. adorable.

it was the same look you had given him when you dropped your cardboard box of things in the hallway, cheeks flushed a pink as you scrambled to throw everything back in. he’d had stayed stock still in the elevator, watching you all embarrassed and flustered and hushed little apologies leaving your lips. beneath the mask, he had almost smiled when he crouched down to help you.

it was bad enough to have these sorts of thoughts. his eyes flitted to the door again. it was bad enough that he was corralling you to the bar every other weekend, a low mumbled excuse it was some sort of payment after he had repaired the plumbing in your bathroom. it was bad enough that he was pretending to be your boyfriend, staving off the way you curled into his side when another man approached you, his hand at your waist, squeezing the plush flesh there.

worst of all, he couldn’t see himself stopping any time in the foreseeable future. he trained his eyes on the door.

fuck.

in a swift movement, he stood, snatching a mask from the box of them he kept handy beside the front door and snapping it over his ears before he twisted the front door of his apartment open. he strode down the hallway to a familiar door, pausing when he smelt something on the other side.

he hadn’t expected you to be awake. knocking, he barely had to wait a heartbeat before you cracked the door open, brows raising when you realized it was him. then, there was a shy smile on your face, and his breath went shallow.

he couldn’t help himself when his eyes flitted down to the threadbare shorts and the plush skin of your thighs, then up to the old tshirt that hugged your tits perfectly.

all for him, he decided selfishly, giving you a barebones grumbled explanation that he was hungry when you let him into your apartment. the smell was stronger now—wafting towards him and thick with the familiar scent of something sweet baking.

“how often you bake?” he asked, nonchalant as you led him into the kitchen. it wasn’t the first time he had materialized at your door on a random night. he knew this wouldn’t be the last either.

“whenever i can’t sleep,” you said softly, yawning on queue as if to prove a point as you moved towards metal trays of parchment dotted with balls of sticky cookie dough on the kitchen counter.

he doesn’t remember what he had said after that—just remembers that he had accepted the glass of water you handed him and your demand for him to sit at the little kitchen table that he dwarfed, watching you with a heavy gaze. watching the bare skin on the back of your thighs and the way your tits strained against your shirt when you twisted around to look at him with that pretty smile to say something sweet.

you shouldn’t be so happy to see him, he thought as he shifted in the chair, fixing his pants around the swelling cock in his sweatpants. you shouldn’t trust him so easily either, he thought dreamily, observing how relaxed you were in his presence. comfortable.

he wondered how easy it would be to entice you into your bedroom, muffling any confused noises with his palm pressed to your mouth as he pat your ass into the direction of the bedroom. how sweet and pliable you would be for him if he coaxed you through it—he knew that you would be.

by the time you brought over the freshly baked batch of cookies, still steaming and sizzling on its iron tray, he was sporting a full, throbbing erection. the first couple of bites always tasted bitter with shame, his eyes trained on the cookie in his hand and avoiding the bubbly glimmer in your eyes before the sweetness of it melted any hesitation from his mind and he finished it in two bites. then a second cookie in three bites.

you would always smile at him over the table, leaning on your elbow and propping up your chin over your palm, tracing the flower designs of the table cloth as you spoke softly about anything and everything. he hung onto every word, grimacing at another burst of sweetness in his mouth with a big bite.

he didn’t even really like sweets, but when your knee brushed against his under the table, he found himself picking up another cookie to prolong it all. once he’d finished the entire first batch of cookies, feeling sick and too full and satiated, you had rushed to bake another batch.

watching you quickly shape some more balls of dough in your hands, he realized with a twinge of shock that maybe you wanted to prolong it too.

by the time you had both eaten one more tray of cookies, and he was standing at the entrance of your door in the hallway, the pretty smile on your face looked forced. maybe sad, even, as he tilted his head down at you to observe the glossy sheen to your eyes. he didn’t want you crying because you were sad—wanted it for a different reason.

in a moment of impulse, he reached up to brush any flecks of misplaced hair from your messy updo, relishing the way you craned into his touch, lashes fluttering as your eyes drooped. fuck.

his thumb traced down your cheek to hold your chin, your lips parting sweetly and warm breath fanning over him.

the twitch of his cock was enough to force him to take a step back. “‘night.”

he was so curt that it was almost rude when he ripped himself away from your apartment door, not taking a second to look back because his resolve waned to something small and pathetic as he walked mechanically to his own apartment. he tore the mask from his face, balling it in his fist before tossing it in the trash can, stripping himself of his shirt as he made his way to the bathroom.

immediately, he turned the knob of the shower all the way cold, the water icy cold under his touch when he tested the water. he shucked down his pants and stepped into the water, smothering a sound of discomfort as he tipped his head into the water, abdomen clenched tight as the water ran down his front and trickled off his swollen cock.

he waited one minute, then two, with his hands braced against the wall, waiting for his dick to go down. when it didn’t, he felt like breaking something, a cold fury in him as he crept a hand over his cock and squeezed tight.

he hated the throaty groan that flew from his lips, cock twitching in his grasp, relieved from the ounce of friction. easing his grip, he tugged a loose clutch of his fingers over the swollen appendage, amazed at the way it was so hot to the touch under the icy cold water.

bracing his forearm against the tile wall, he fucked into his own hand, rolling his hips and twisting his hand at the flushed head of his cock, water running down his back a heady mix of confusing sensations that pushed him further towards a chasmic edge.

it wasn’t long before his thoughts were circling you again, your soft words and soft lips in his mind. soft skin, too, as he imagined what it’d be like to slide his cock between the plush of your breasts, sandwiching the head of his cock nicely as pearly liquid ran down his length. fuck, he could imagine you sticking out your tongue to lap at the slit with every thrust, big eyes doe eyes so innocent as you looked up at him.

he was so pent up. so pent up about you.

then, he was trying to imagine how tight your cunt would be around his cock, thrusting so deep that he hit your cervix before he would pull out, tapping the head of it against your sensitive clit, watching the way your squirmed and mewled in the sheets with a giddy feeling in his chest before burying himself to the hilt again. tight, hot, warm, wet, sucking him in perfectly.

would you beg him with that pretty voice of yours? a soft lilt to your words even when his hand was squeezing around your throat as he fucked you at a brutal pace? every wet smack of his pelvis against yours forcing more glittery tears out your eyes and wanton moans from your lips?

“please Simon,” you moaned, voice thick from the tears running down your cheeks, “feels so good—”

“shh, m’gonna let ya—” he choked around his words, “want you to come, pretty girl.”

“close,” you slurred, eyes half-lidded as you looked down where his cock was stretching your pussy wide, sucking him in and clenching him in pulsing waves in time with the slam of his hips.

“let go f’me,” he commanded, eyes honed in on the swollen pearl between your folds and rubbing his thumb over it, fast and hard and loving the way your back arched with a sweet keen on your lips.

he watched with a fervor as you came with cute little shakes and shivers, face pinched and flushed with effort.

“tha’s it, sweet thing,” he groaned aloud, eyes rolling back into their sockets when the head of his cock brushed against the icy cold tile wall. “m’gonna come in that pretty, tight cunt—”

with a low groan, he came in ropes down the tile wall, abdominal muscles clenched tight as he rutted into his hand a couple more times before almost collapsing against the wall. panting, his stomach sank as he watched his cum slide down the surface of the wall, washed down into the drain between his feet.

it was barely a release—barely satiated the thrumming desire still sitting heavy in his stomach. ugly and thick and whispering your name.

“shit,” he panted, swallowing down the thick feeling in his throat as he rubbed over his face.

it was bad. worse than he thought it could be, as more images of your pretty face bloomed in his mind, swirling around and rooting there. rotting there.

it wouldn’t last long, he decided, washing up before stepping out the shower and tugging on his sweatpants again. looking at the mirror, he stared into his own eyes, finding a face of something strange and foreign staring back. he brushed his fingers over the scar on his upper lip, feeling over the divot in his flesh with a numbing coldness spreading through his chest.

he’d be gone soon, and so would his ugly, muddled feelings once he left for work.

taglist: @ivybeeloved @babygirl-riley

#simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #ghost cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #ghost smut #ghost angst #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #simon riley angst

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lemmetreatya · 1 year

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plumber!toji who’s ethos is that his jobs are strictly ‘walk in, walk out’

he wont even take snack breaks or accept food from the customers; if plumber!toji needs to get a job done, then he gets it done. this man is strictly in it for the money and does not anticipate this changing anytime soon.

however, it’s the day when plumber!toji ends up at his cousin, choso’s apartment, for a comissioned job — that he’s bemusingly surprised by your presence at the front door. plumber!toji looks you up and down in full reverence and he really tries to soak all of you in because god knows this will probably be the last time he gets to lay eyes on this mysterious deity.

“sorry.” he slurs. “musta got the wrong place.”

but then you ask if he’s the cousin choso talked about, the one who’d be able to fix the shower pipe, and plumber!toji realises that you’re his cousin’s partner.

and plumber!toji feels so dumb for forwardly checking you out because you’re well aware of how he perceives you — who else would look at you that hungrily whilst you sported a silk gown without the attention to bone? but he doesn’t feign confidence, plumber!toji just continues to check you out every time you come into the bathroom to check on his progress.

“choso home?” he asks after one point, his eyes still focused on his work.

you make a noise of denial as you sat on top of the closed toilet seat, unaware by his intent, but that was all plumber!toji needed to make up his mind.

plumber!toji doesn’t hesitate to lift you up onto the bathroom sink. he might aswell be doing magic considering how his finger disappears in and out of your folds. your moans are sweet to him as he sucks the nubs of your breast — as he slides the lapelle of your gown to the side.

or how he doesn’t hesitate to bend down and eat you out, his lips slick and wet with your juices and his mouth suckling on your clit.

but plumber!toji doesn’t want to share you. despite you being his cousin’s, he still wanted to brand you in his name. plumber!toji leaves litters and litters of bite marks and gnaws at your inner thighs.

plumper!toji doesn’t ever need his cousin to know exactly what’s transpired, but he definitely wanted him to know that he fixed more than just his plumbing work that afternoon.

#toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x black reader #toji smut #toji drabbles #jjk smut #jjk imagine #jjk fanfic #jjk #jjk headcanons

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aspiring-house-husband · 1 month

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…oh. my god. this may be one of the longest things i’ve ever written. you want some sub/top regency kink a/b/o? you want some heat-fucking? you want some knotting? have i got a treat for you.

normally, a king would be proud to have all alpha sons. a sign of a strong bloodline, strong heirs. dominance and assurance in the future.

this king was not proud. he was scared. all three sons were alphas- his daughters, too. every child an alpha. what would normally be a strength was a curse, as it could not help him now.

there was a young king, butting up against their border. what had once thought to be a nuisance or even a weakness, their young king was new, inexperienced, unknown. but when the kingdom opposite this royal alpha’d family attempted to take advantage of the young and inexperienced king, their kingdom fell. the young king’s empire grew. as did his army, and his power. and his bloodlust.

he crushed a revolt, only a year later, from his conquested kingdom’s militia. he carved out pieces from his eastern and western borders. through every battle, every negotiation, every victory, he proved that his blade, tongue, and mind were equally sharp. he was accruing power at a rate that made long-standing reigns weary.

the kingdom he inherited by blood adored him. those kingdoms he conquered respected him. those kingdoms bordering him were terrified.

the alpha king, of an alpha queen, with five alpha children, desperately wanted to avoid war. an ally was preferred to an enemy, and he saw what happened to kingdoms who resisted. peace was preferred, and what better way than offering a spouse to the young king, preferably an omega to be controlled and toyed with, so that the kingdom could remain uncontrolled, untouched?

his youngest son, his sweet prince. an alpha, but the most likely to submit to a young but obviously alpha king. he was dressed in ceremonial cloth and jewels and taken to the young king. the prince was stunned by the beauty of the king… but not the ruggedness the prince expected. he was not a muscular and scarred military man with blood splattered across his chest, but instead a small man with legs crossed and his chin resting, bored, in his palm. soft hair framed a curious expression around bright, curious eyes.

“young alpha prince,” the king says, the corners of his lips only barely tugging into a smile, “welcome to my kingdom. welcome to my home.”

the prince kneels before the king and bows, touching his head to the floor, his robes pooled around him on the tiled floor as a great island of nobility. he stays as the king stands, graceful steps taking him to the prince.

“quite generous of your father, sending me a toy of such noble stature.” the king circles him, his gaze drinking in the prince. “stand.”

the prince does as ordered and raises his chin. he finds the king slightly shorter than him. “an alpha, i smell. tell me, are you afraid of me?”

the prince lets his gaze flick to the king, who still circles like a predator.

“majesty, i will regard you however it is you should require me to,” the prince responds, and the king finally smiles full and across his face, but his eyes are dark. he comes to stand in front of the prince, and lifts a hand to his face, but stops just short of touching.

“may i?” he asks, and the prince hesitates in surprise at the question before nodding. the king’s hand is warm as it slowly cups his face.

“have the prince shown to his quarters and dressed,” the king addresses his men without breaking eye contact with the prince. “return him to me once he is settled in.”

the prince marvels at his living space. it has high ceilings and double paned windows that face the western skies, a plush bed larger than the one he’d had at home, and a bath with working plumbing. the hearth was alive with warm fire when he arrived, and two servants awaited to help him dress and fetch him food. not even as the prince of his kingdom had he ever felt so taken care of, so privileged. only when his handmen showed him to his wardrobe did he feel again like a plaything. his closet was not befitting a prince- it suited a concubine. hardly covering cloth draped from metal chains and jewels, his dignity spared by only a few inches. he chose the outfit that covered the most of his skin, but even that wasn’t much, and what it hardly covered could still be seen through the fabric.

“do you know what the king wants of me?” he asked one of his handmaidens, and she shook her head.

“i’ve long stopped questioning his intention. he hasn’t lead us wrong yet. he did order, though, that robes be made available to you, if your decency was less than to your liking.” she opened yet another wardrobe, and the prince sighed in relief that he could at least drape a large fur cloak over himself before he was sent before the king.

he wasn’t led back to the throne room, as he had expected. instead he was taken to an office study, where the king sat hunched at the end of a long dark wood table over maps and other papers. he took a seat at the king’s left and dared not look at the scribblings, lest he be reprimanded for curiosity above his station.

“your father is a smart man.” the king breaks the silence. “even being so far from the throne, he would’ve prepared you, yes?”

“Yes, highness,” the prince responds.

“Perhaps you will notice something i haven’t. this river isn’t supposed to flood- it never did, during my mother’s reign. but it has thrice in mine, and i can’t work out why. each time it floods, it destroys homes, and i can’t have that any longer.”

the prince sits in stunned silence before he responds.

“you’re asking… my opinion, sire?”

“why wouldn’t i? a pretty face does not a lesser mind make.”

the prince can only be glad his complexion hides blushes before he leans in to study the maps.

the royals emerge hours later with flood plane maps and funding plans for village relocation drawn up. the king takes the hand of the prince and sends him back to his chambers, but not without first again holding his face.

“my pet, from now on,” he says, his smile unexpectedly fond, “sit at my right hand.”

the bed is too plush for the prince; he cannot stop his mind from wandering. the king was not at all what he had expected. not just small and soft, beautiful and graceful instead of rugged and rough, but also kind, generous. though the prince was rarely called anything but ‘toy’, ‘pet’, ‘gift’, he was treated like not only a royal but a confidant, an advisor. the touches that he had expected from his new king had never come, and those that did were only soft enough to make him desire more. and his plush pillows were no help, hugged into the curve of his frame and just the right plushness. it made him buck before falling asleep. made him grind as he woke. made him whimper through his dreams of serving the king as he once thought he would be required to.

“highness,” the prince begins one morning, over breakfast. “is there anything more i could be doing for you?”

“for me?” the king asks, setting down his utensils and locking his fingers together, resting his chin to his knuckles and his elbows to the table. “how so?”

“i am but to serve you,” says the prince, “it is my purpose, my life. if there would ever be anything more you need from me, you need only ask.”

he couldn’t be sure, but the prince swore he smelled an arousal spike, and for the first time it made him wonder at the king’s designation. all had assumed him an alpha, but not once had the prince smelled an alpha scent from him. until this moment, in fact, not a scent at all… his eyes drifted to the metal chains that wrapped his neck with links and leather. the prince has assumed these pieces armor, but maybe they were more. maybe they hid the king’s scent.

“you are servant to me,” echos the king, fondness in his voice and tugging at the end of his lips. “you believe so?”

“i am lost to it,” says the prince, wishing he could take back how his voice cracked. too many times recently had he been erect in the presence of the king, his only disguise being his fur cloaks. too many time had he woken up dripping with the idea of the king ordering him around, owning him the way he truly was owned.

“very well,” says the king, and he stands from his breakfast. “walk with me.” the prince gladly does so, half a pace behind the king.

“with honesty, i have been waiting,” he says, hands clasped at his back. “when i took you as my own, i wanted it to be of your choice. i couldn’t help but be impatient.”

the king’s chamber door opened into a small room first, empty but for light furniture. this is where the king turned to the prince, hopping up onto a table top to sit nearly the same height as the prince.

“touch me,” he says, his voice not even close to hard enough for it to be an order. the prince obeys nonetheless, his fingers rising up the king’s sides to tease his tunic over his head. still, the leather and link around the king’s neck remains. the prince moans with the skin revealed to him, and breathes out raggedly.

“you mustnt tell anyone,” the king says, and the prince blindly nods without knowing what he was meant to keep secret, far too focused on exploring the king with his hands and the way the king’s legs have latched into him and knocked the fur cloak from his body. he manages, though, to follow the king’s hands to the armor around his neck, and a few seconds later the armor falls to his lap.

the prince’s head spins. not only was the king’s scent entirely new to him, new and perfect, but it was omega scent. it was omega, and aroused, and strong, and so incredibly sweet smelling that it must’ve been crafted just for him. if he hadn’t been hard, he would’ve swelled to full size from the smell alone.

“don’t be dumbfounded,” the king says, “i know i’m an omega, but that’s why i’m so strong in battle, so people-“

“i don’t care,” says the prince, diving his face to the king’s neck and scooping the king by the legs into his arms, “i don’t care what people assume about you. you smell so good, highness, that i wouldn’t care if they all were watching us, right now.”

the king moaned and held onto the prince as he opened the door to the king’s bedroom. he had never seen it before, and now he could guess why- the scent of omega, aroused and needy, hung heavy in the air. the prince placed the king down in his bed, which now that he could see, he could tell was filled with pillows and blankets, woven into a perfect nest. still he did not leave the king’s neck, salivating over the scent that made his head spin. he lathered open-mouthed kisses along his neck, scraping his teeth over the omega’s scent gland and prompting a wanton moan straight from the prince’s dreams. the prince cursed under his breath and unthinkingly thrusted his hips, his thin clothing doing nothing to hide either his arousal or the sensation of grinding against the warmth of the king’s body.

“pet,” says the king, breathing ragged but hands still strong as he holds the prince away from him, just enough. “undress me, pet.” the prince didn’t nod, didn’t hesitate, just pushed the king onto his back and grabbed his waistband, lifting his hips as he yanked downward. he did it with ferocity, desperation, and hardly had the mind to hear the king’s chuckle over the sight he was greeted with. the king’s hole was nothing short of everything he’d dreamed of in every rut-fevered sleep, soft and wet and warm, so wet he was dripping. the scent was strong and still so sweet, tuned to his nose alone, like it was made for him. he kneeled before his king and held onto his thighs, sliding forward, but the king closed his legs and trapped the prince just beyond his knees.

“my king?” he asked, desperate eyes looking up at the king as his chest heaved. was this what catching an omega’s heat felt like? he had rut before, but this was different, like he was driven by something external and so ravenous that he could devour the king. but he didn’t smell heat, as he had before from his oldest brother’s wife. the sticky sweet smell wasn’t among the king’s scent, his beautiful dripping warm and wet and soft scent. this feeling was all his own, without heat, without rut. he was this pathetically desperate, all his own.

the king had sat up, and finally his hands pet through the prince’s hair, held his jaw.

“put your mouth to me, pet,” says the king, “your lips, your tongue. and don’t emerge until you’ve tasted my high and swallowed it. don’t come out of it until you’ve smeared yourself in my slick and no one will be able to even smell your breath without knowing i’ve been on your tongue.”

with an unprompted moan the king falls back down into his bed and opened his legs for the prince, who presses the king’s thighs further open and eats like a starving animal. he nearly cums through his clothes at the taste, his cock strained and weeping and impossibly, painfully hard. he does not spare a hand for himself, too focused on the king’s bucking hips, his loud moan whenever he sucked against the king’s cock, the way his moans cracked and whimpered when he dove his tongue deep. to his surprise, it doesn’t take long; the king clamps down around his tongue and bathes his face in the smells of satisfaction and warmth and arousal and most of all, need.

the prince feels like a wild animal rising from his kill, his face dripping and his breathing rough. the king looks upon him with pleasure, his breath hard, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“toy, love,” says the king, barely untangling his fingers from where they had gripped into his bedsheets, “i had planned to do a lot of walking tomorrow. force me to change my plans.”

the prince shivers and undresses himself quickly. the clothing he wore couldve easily been torn, or even pulled to the side, but he took the time to yank them from his body, catching sight of his own cock for the first time that morning. he was surprised to notice an angry, throbbing knot- he had rut?

his hesitation catches the attention of the king, who sits up enough to see the knot, and his moan is nothing but heavenly as he falls to the bed again.

“i’ll milk that best if you’ve had me twice more,” promises the king. “get me there, toy.”

thrusting into the king nearly had him over the edge, but he couldn’t swell his knot without being deep inside the king, without satisfying his orders. he had to control himself, had to fuck into the king’s sloppy, throbbing, hot and wet hole without losing himself to it, but it felt like a pointless battle. he was too far gone, the scent of omega burning in his nose and making his eyes half lid, his hips snapping into the king and pulling back only halfway before impacting with the king’s tightly wrapped legs before thrusting deep again.

he growled in dissatisfaction—not the right angle, not deep enough, not lewd enough moans from the king—and pulled out to flip the king onto his stomach, pulling his hips back, and thrusting in. the noise he pulled from his omega was high-pitched and filthy, and the prince’s gaze moves between the hungry and soaking wet hole that suckles against his knot with every thrust, and the blissful expression and soft, drooling lips of the king, pressed into his bedsheets.

he barely notices as the king gets tighter, and tighter, before he clamps down again and screams, his voice broken but loud, catching and announcing every shudder, pulse, tremble, twitch, broken with soft words the prince could barely hear, words as “toy,” and “love,” and “yes,” and “pet,” and, the worst of them all, the one that had him throbbing, “alpha.”

the prince pulls out to flip the king over again. he is pliant and panting, flushed down the front of his body and looking up at the prince with undisguised adoration, obsession, lust. the prince has to look away to focus; he wants nothing more than to be inside the king and satisfy him again, but he needs to make it better. the nest he had crawled into is well constructed, and he wouldn’t dare rip at the pillows built into walls, but there is one that doesn’t seem to be for either structure or for laying heads on, one that seems thick enough. he lifts the king and lays the pillow under his back, propping up his hips to the prince, splaying his thighs open to show the soaked and reddened, throbbing, abused hole. the prince has to break his own hypnosis to move his eyes away and back to the king.

he crawls up, cock hard beneath him, and for the first time kisses the king, their mouths dancing together, tongues tangling and teeth clacking. he sinks into the king’s hole like he belongs there, lined up perfectly and finding no resistance. the king moans into his mouth and his arms come up around the prince, nails latching to his back.

“knot me,” begs the king, his ankles locking behind the prince. “knot me full, take me, mark me deep.”

the words were pleas, not orders, but the prince obeys without question. he thrusts into the king with what feels like every ounce of power in his body, deep and fast and strong. his body is alight- every sensation his to memorize. the sting of his omega’s nails on his shoulder blades. the lustful moans just next to his ear. the near-stickiness as their bodies part before coming together again. the warmth of his omega’s body. the heavenly softness of his hole. every sensation, his, and too easy to burn into his mind forever. his omega begins to tighten, to whimper, his moans sliding higher pitched, and the prince keeps his same pace, desperate to please and to do as the king ordered. the king does not cum, yet, holds himself with tension in every muscle and teeth bared.

“knot me, alpha,” he whispers, eyes bright and hungry. “so deep your seed will never find its way back out.”

the prince drops his gaze to where they meet, his knot nestled against the king’s entrance, and he lifts himself so that he can hold onto the king’s hips. he stares at the fluttering muscle of the king’s body, trying to suck him deeper, trying to be one with him, and his mind swims. still, he pulls, strong and slowly pulling the king toward him as he pushes his hips closer. the king breathes shallow, unable to see where they meet and so watching the prince, pliant and soft and beautiful as the prince guides them together. he pulls with more strength, grits his teeth, pushes forward until they snap together, knocking the prince onto his elbows again, face inches away from the king’s, who looks lustful but bewildered, as though he has looked upon heaven for the first time.

“alpha,” he breathes, unfocused eyes finally moving to the prince. “my alpha.”

“my omega,” answers the prince, and he kisses him deeply.

he rocks his hips gently, unable to move the knot but just enough to pull the climax they had both been seconds from. it crashes over the king, who thrashes and screams, and washes over the prince, who collapses and spills. he can feel them throbbing in time, his omega’s hole milking him, pulling everything from him. they bask in it for an eternity, unable to move, unable to speak, hardly able to breathe. finally, the king touches his face again.

“my pet, from now on,” he says, his eyes unfocused and body still trembling, “sleep in my bed. never leave my side. never let me be without you.”

“i am servant to you,” the prince echoes the king’s words of hours ago. “i am whatever you require.”

“whatever i require?” the king repeats, his eyes lazing closed, blissful enough in his knotting and his alpha’s rut to fall asleep, still clamped around a knot and milking it gently. “you are mine.”

the prince no longer felt the need to wear his fur cloaks. whatever skin that the kingdom could see was marked with the king’s adoration, scratches and bites and hickeys decorating every bit of his body. he fetched the king breakfast and helped him dress, but equally undressed him around hallway corners and beneath banquet tables. he let the stuck-up old nobles turn up their noses at his hard cock trapped beneath only shear fabric, all thoughts of embarrassment wiped away by the soft touch of his king, squeezing him and reminding him of the privilege only he wields.

an alpha prince, servant to an omega king. a pet for pleasure and a lover. a toy.

#a/b/o #og #story #non monster #prince #public #heat

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satrs · 9 months

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Hi hii 👋👋👋 I was wondering if you could write a Rengoku x reader nsfw.

(Ngl, I had no clue who to pick from demon slayer. I was in the mood for one of em lmao)

Try me

SYNOPSIS; He comes home late with you already deep in the world of dreams. But oh, how he missed you.

FEATURING; rengoku kyojiro x fem!reader

TAGS; NSFW CONTENT. MDNI! Somnophilia(readers consent beforehand). Nicknames(pretty, baby, pretty girl). use of toys. Oral(fem receiving). Praise(fem! Receiving). Overstim(?). Dirty talk.

WORDCOUNT;1.0kish

ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+!

It was unusual for Rengoku to come home this late, even though you knew how demanding his job was. So when you woke up in the morning alone in bed again, him already headed off to work, you could already tell how bad of a mood you would have for the rest of the day.

Rengoku himself was no dummy and knew that himself too. So to save you from having a bad mood and give his dear love the pleasure she deserves, he had an idea.

A slight pout tugged on his lips once he walked into the bedroom with you on the bed, peacefully sleeping your troubles away. “Aw. Already asleep, huh.”

He walked up to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed, careful to not wake you as his fingers softly caressed your cheek, admiring your face. “My pretty girl”, he said, placing a kiss on your temple.

“Too tired to wait for me, hm? But I missed you all day, what a meanie.” He joked mostly to himself, light chuckle escaping his lips.

But his mood soon switched once he noticed your clothing - only dressed in an (his) oversized shirt and not to mention no panties.

His surprise only grew as he caught a slight glance of a vibrating device at the nightstand. He hummed in surprise, taking the device in hand as an idea came to his head.

A small smirk played itself on his features as he swiftly threw the sheets from your body, hand sneaking to your thigh to carefully spread your legs and oh, what a sight to see.

“All wet from thinking about me? Bet my pretty baby has some dirty dream right now.” Bingo.

His big orbs shot up to your face once his fingers ghosted over your exposed cunt, shallow breath audible from you.

“I wouldn’t mind waking up with you between my legs, you know. Great way to start the day.”

Your past voice played in his head, grin right back on his face. A great way to help you start the next morning indeed.

His lips ghosted over your aroused cunt as he did an experimental lick to your plumb bundle, increasing his movements once he noticed a change in your breathing.

He moved the toy to your entrance, sliding it through your arousal in a teasing manner, chuckle leaving his lips as you bucked your hips up into his touch. “So cute.”

It didn’t take long for him to turn the device on, pushing it past your entrance as an eager moan from you followed, hips grinding down onto the toy.

He was growing impatient, eager to wake you up and properly hear you, mouth latching back onto your clit as he harshly sucked on it, waking you up with his next flick against your bundle of nerves, groaning against your heat.

“Look who’s awake.” He chuckled once a loud yelp escaped your lips, movement of his hands showing no sign of stopping as he replaced his mouth with his thumb, drawing firm circles to your clit.

Your eyes still heavy with sleep as you cried out for his name, earning a consent hum in return. “I’m here, pretty. Missed me that much that you couldn’t even wait for me?”

You whined, the last bit of sleep leaving your body as he increased the vibrator to its highest volume, thighs clenching around his head. “Dirty fucking girl.”

You mesmerized him - eyes not daring to leave your face, inspecting every expression and sound you made for him. "Missed you so much, Ren'." He chuckled at your trembling voice, his lips planting a soft kiss right on top of your rose. "Missed my pretty baby too", he mumbled before occupinging his lips with your plumb clit again.

Your head flung back, voice almost hoarse from the sounds he was pulling out of you, hips bucking up as you felt yourself nearing your release. "Ren', I'm-" You cut yourself off with a loud moan, Your hands firmly tugging at his colorful locs.

He hummed, your orgasm crystal clear to you with all of his movements speeding up, sparkling and big orbs staring at your face. "Look at me." The demandment in his voice caused you to look right into his eyes, struggling to keep your eyes on him once your knot snapped, an overwhelming wave of euphoria washing over you.

"I said look at me." He warned you with a slap to your gushing cunt, your eyes rolling back in place, whimpering as he rode you through your high. "Just like that."

He drank up every last bit of your juices, earning a yelp from you as he groaned into your overstimulated cunt, vibrator long forgotten somewhere on the floor.

Ready for the real thing?" He blurted out, eyes sparkling in adoration as he rose to his kness, rough hands harshly coming down to the back of your thighs, folding them over your chest while he struggled with the zipper of his pants, desperate to free his painfully hard cock from its cage.

Your eyes widdened at his rather rhetorical question, mouth opening to protest, only to be cut off by a mewl from you as you felt his heavy shaft hit your overused cunt, hips bucking up in overstimulation. "Ren wait, I-"

"Shhh, pretty. You can take me, right? Right? " He inquired impatiently, lining his length to your fluttering entrance, his head hanging low and mouth agape once he felt your walls tighten around his angry mushroom head, his eyes closed in concentration.

"Already sucking me in like that", he muttered under his breath, eyes low-lidded while he observed the way your walls desperately tried to suck more of his cock in, his dick shining in your essence.

"Pussy missed me just as bad as you did, huh?"

#my work 𓆩⟡𓆪 #lec writes!۵ #demon slayer smut #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer #kny smut #rengoku smut #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku kny #rengoku kyōjurō #rengoku kyoujurou x reader

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poopwons · 3 months

Text

**Break My Heart**-Ft. Jean Kirstein 18+ MDNI!!

Synopsis: You and Jean break up, he doesn't know what to do with himself. Maybe you'll call him? (surprise, you will)

Content: (NSFW), F!Reader, Jean’s POV, post break up feelings, angst, cursing, depressed Jean, pet names, handjobs, fingering, praise kink, Jean has a teensy bit of a size kink, collaring (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people), cream pie, hair pulling, light alcohol consumption

a/n: I have never written anything this long before, but I got the idea in my head and it would not get out so, here it is. I was literally driving home from work listening to Olivia Rodrigo and Happier came on, so that's what inspired this 🥰 Huge shoutouts to @jeanboyjean and @cowgirlikets for encouraging me through this entire process!💜💜💜 ***also I know absolutely nothing about plumbing, so sorry if all of that is completely inaccurate LOL***

words: 6.9k

Two months, four days.

That’s how long it’s been. That’s the last time Jean saw you in person, talked to you at all. Sure, he’s wanted to reach out, he’s gotten drunk a few times and Connie had to wrench his phone out of his hands when he saw your name on the screen. Jean had yelled at him, tried to push him off, but Connie ended up with the phone, locking it away before helping Jean to bed. All in all Connie was looking out for him more than anyone else. That’s what good roommates are for, right?

Though, Jean is sure that Connie never expected to ever see his friend like this. Hell, Jean never thought he’d be this way; he never even thought of the possibility of the two of you splitting at all. The first week after you told him you didn’t want to keep seeing him, he stayed in bed, blaring awful sad songs, just wallowing in his own self pity. He supposes he still is, even months later.

The days without you have slowed to a crawl. He still thinks about you all the time, it takes all his will power not to scroll through your instagram, wondering if you’re thriving without him, or if you’re just as fucked up as he is. He doesn’t want to know, he’s not that desperate yet. Still, thoughts of you plagued him every moment it seemed like. Who does he make breakfast for now? Making a single serving for himself just seems.. pathetic, pointless, in comparison to making something for you.

The two of you had a great routine, his favorite, he thinks. You’d wake up, curled in his arms, peppering little kisses to his face, trying to wake him up. He’d groan at you before running his hands to your sides to tickle you, calling you a menace for disturbing a man’s sleep. The little giggles he’d pull from you were his favorite sound, he’d never heard anything better. Then he’d get up, make coffee and breakfast for the two of you while you showered. Sometimes he’d say fuck the breakfast and shower with you instead. Hot water cascading down the two of you, the smell of your shampoo in his nose as he kissed the back of your neck while washing your hair. Fuck. He needs to stop. Think about anything else, he curses himself, his brain can’t keep doing this to him, can it?

But, turns out, it can. Who makes your tea the way you like it, muddled with honey and a splash of cream? Who else knows that you only want earl grey when it’s raining because that’s what your mom would give you when you came inside from splashing around in puddles when you were little? That you want chamomile when you’re sick, and coffee most mornings, unless you’re anxious, then you want English breakfast. Who knows the way you order your meals from your favorite restaurants? That you don’t like water chestnuts because “they’re too crunchy without enough flavor”, or that you hate fast food lettuce but will completely devour the caesar salad from the diner downtown because you say the lettuce is always “the perfect amount of crisp and never soggy”? What does he do with all this little information that he’s learned about you, that’s now completely useless to him since you’re not here?

Connie managed to drag Jean out to go have lunch with him and Sasha the next day. It’s the first time he’s been out in weeks for something other than work. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, the most he can manage with how exhausted he’s been. The little chain that you picked out for him draped across his collarbones. He likes that memory. You dragged him into a jewelry store, showing him the necklace, saying something about how you thought it’d look good on him. He was never much of a jewelry person, but for you? He agreed, but only if you’d get a matching bracelet, and you did. You said it was your favorite, you loved it so much, and it went on like that, the two of you, in your matching pieces, wearing them everyday…

“Jean,” Connie breaks him out of his thoughts, he wonders if he could tell that he was thinking about you again.

“What,” his tone is flat, nothing like his usual light hearted one.

“Dude, don’t you think you should take that off?”

Jean looks down at his chain, then back at Connie, a frown plastered on his face.

“No, I don’t want to take it off.”

“Look, man, I know you’re still upset, but.. doesn’t that make it worse?”

Jean can’t stand the look of pity he’s getting, he shrugs and doesn’t reply. Take it off? And then what, get rid of it? No. No, he can’t get rid of it, you got it for him. It would be like throwing you away.. and he’s just not ready to do that, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be.

Sasha kicks Connie under the table, the two of them had clearly talked about how to handle today and it seems like Connie is going off script. Jean can’t take it anymore, he can’t stand the way his friends are looking at him, he wants to look anywhere else. So, he does what he’s been trying to avoid. He pulls out his phone, opening up your instagram. You haven’t posted in a while, but there is one new picture. Jean’s heart lurches into his throat when he sees it. Who is that? Why is he with you? He’s never seen this guy before and he doesn’t like it, right down to his stupid green eyes, that idiotic man bun, and that shit-eating smile plastered on his face, like he’s mocking Jean without even trying. The picture is innocent enough, a selfie with his arm around you. But why is he touching you? Why are you letting him? Did you really move on this fast? Did you forget about Jean already? Is this the real reason you ended things with him, for this other guy?

He hears a faint grunt from across the table, then Sasha is talking to him, he hardly hears it, the blood is rushing in his ears. Connie snatches his phone from his hand, Jean can’t even find the energy to snap at him. Connie groans when he sees the screen.

“Shit, man… I was hoping you wouldn’t see that.” Connie practically winces when he meets Jean’s eyes, tears welling up in them. His voice breaks when he finally speaks up.

“Who is that with her?” He sounds like the world has been ripped from him.

Sasha speaks up from her side of the table, having seen the post as well. “I don’t know.. maybe they’re just friends. Don’t overthink it, it’ll be okay.”

He sends a pitiful look her way, it most definitely would not be okay. He takes his phone back from Connie, rising from the table, hell bent on getting back home. His brain is going a mile a minute thinking about you and.. whoever that was.

Two months, fifteen days.

He stays in his room all week. Barely leaving, laid up in bed scrolling through your entire instagram. All the pictures of you and him are gone. He can’t believe you got rid of them, did you delete them off your phone entirely? Were all those pictures slowly being replaced by new ones with this guy? He hates the thought of this stranger taking up camera space that should be his. He knows he shouldn’t.. looking through this idiot’s instagram isn’t going to make him feel any better, but he has to know why you chose him instead.

He swipes through this guy’s pictures, he’s even got a stupid name. Who spells their kids' name Eren? There aren’t a ton of posts, but the few that Jean does see has him rolling his eyes, gym selfies and photos of him playing a guitar, his long hair flowing down his shoulders. Great, so he’s ripped and talented. Jean’s not out of shape by any means, but he isn’t as cut as that, especially since he’s been skipping the gym the past couple of months, unable to find the energy to go, and he definitely can’t play any instruments. Maybe he should learn, would that impress you enough to finally reach out to him? No, that would take way too long, he wants to hear from you so much sooner than that. Maybe he can start growing his hair out.. would you like that? You never complained about his hair before but, this whole thing has thrown him for a loop. He’s questioning everything about himself wondering what Eren has that he doesn’t. Maybe Eren’s better in bed? No, that can’t be it. You never once complained about Jean’s performance, all those pretty sounds you made when he touched and kissed and sucked at all the right spots. No, he definitely knew what he was doing in that department. So, that can’t be it, which almost makes it worse. That must mean Jean failed you in some other way as a partner. Was he not attentive enough, not supportive enough? Did he not make enough time for you? Maybe he should have tried to plan more dates. The thoughts go on and on like this until he finally falls into a fitful sleep, what little dreams he has are plagued with you laughing at Eren’s stupid jokes, of you being happier with Eren than you ever were with him.

Jean is sitting up on the sofa in the living room, Connie had begged him to at least come out of his room so he knows the poor guy’s still alive. Jean is scrolling through yours and Eren’s pages, checking yet again for any more posts.

“Dude, seriously? Are you looking at that guy’s page again?” Connie asks, as he sits down on the couch with a bowl of cereal.

Jean gives him a noncommittal grunt, before shoving his phone in Connie’s face. “I mean, what does she even see in him? He’s not that good looking and he has stupid hair. He probably can’t even play that guitar.”

Connie gives him a sympathetic look, he knows it can’t be easy for Jean to see you with someone else, but it’s been almost three months since you two split. All the same, he’s Jean’s friend, he can’t always tell him what he wants to hear, right? He sets his bowl down with a sigh, bracing himself for what he’s about to say.

“Come on, man. He looks like a decent enough guy. I know this is hard for you, but don’t you want her to be happy?”

“She’s supposed to be happy with me! Me, not this fucker with a guitar, who’s side are you on, anyway?”

“I’m on your side, you know that, but this is nuts, she’s just a chick. You’ve been hung up for almost three months. You need to get back to the shit you used to do. When was the last time you even went to the gym? That used to be so important to you. You should go back, get some endorphins going, that would make you feel better.”

Jean huffs, Connie just doesn’t get it. He gets up off the couch and walks over to the entryway, pushing his shoes on. “She’s not just some chick, dude.” He spits the words out before walking out the door. Maybe a walk would clear his head. He knew in some regards, Connie was right, he hasn’t been taking the best care of himself lately, but his “just a chick” comment has Jean seeing red and he can’t focus on any of the other rational things Connie’s said.

He walks and walks until it gets dark outside, when he finally gets home he scarfs down a protein bar and flops down in bed. Closing his eyes and drifting off relatively quickly, worn out from the walk, maybe he should go back to the gym, he thinks, if a walk has worn him out so much. He doesn’t know how long he sleeps for, but the buzzing from his night table lulls him out of sleep. Bleary eyed and groggy, he picks up the phone staring at the screen. He must be seeing things. Or he’s still asleep and this is a dream. He sits up abruptly, rubbing his eyes, looking at the screen again. Sure enough, it’s your name that’s up on the screen, the phone is still buzzing in his hand as he stares at the caller id. It finally hits him that if he doesn’t answer it’ll go to voicemail and you might not call back. He fumbles to swipe his finger over the answer key, almost dropping his phone in the process.

“Hello?” Jean tries to make his voice sound calm and not rushed, despite the fact that his heart is practically beating out of his chest over something as simple as a phone call, at the prospect of actually hearing your voice for the first time in months.

“Hey, uh, it’s me. Well, duh, you probably know that.” Your voice sounds just as angelic as he remembers and part of him thinks he might cry right on the spot. “um, listen, I didn’t know who else to call, I-I know it’s late.”

“No, no, I’m uh, I’m awake. Wha-what’s up?” He hates how nervous he sounds, but he can’t help it, even his hands are shaking.

“Can you come over? There’s like, a leak in my apartment, and the office is closed, I just don’t want to lose my deposit. I’m sure they’ll find some way to blame it on me and not their shitty plumbing. I mean.. Obviously, if you’re busy, it’s okay, I can figure something else out.”

So, you’re calling him to come help you, not Eren, interesting. Jean feels over the moon, maybe Eren isn’t all he’s cracked up to be after all.

“No, I’m not busy, it’s fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just try to soak up all the water you can.” Jean says as he scrambles off his bed, going to the bathroom to check his hair in the mirror, smoothing some parts that got ruffled in his sleep. He looks at his shirt, cursing silently that he’s still wearing this sweaty t-shirt. He puts you on speaker and quickly pulls the fabric off, throwing it in the hamper.

“Thank you so much, you’re really doing me a huge favor.”

He pulls a fresh shirt over his head, the shirt getting caught in his frantic movements causing him to have to talk louder than normal, so you can hear him over the muffle of the fabric, “yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be there soon.” He’d do you a million favors if it meant he got to see you. You hang up and he slips on his shoes, rushing out the door to get to your place with his tools.

Jean’s heart is hammering out of his chest the whole drive to your place, it feels like his body is vibrating with anxiety. He’s practically white knuckling his steering wheel, his brain just going and going. He finally gets to see you, he’ll get to see you. He hopes you’re wearing his favorite pair of sweats. He always thought you looked so cute in them, so comfy and cozy. Excitement is starting to bubble in, until he thinks, oh, god. What if he’s there? What if Jean has to see you and Eren together in person, in a situation where he can’t just walk away. Oh, fuck, why didn’t he think about this before? He was just so excited to hear your voice, to see you, that he wasn’t thinking. If he has to see this idiot touch you right in front of him he thinks he might punch him. That would not look good on him, you’d probably even get mad at him, that’s the last thing he needs. He pulls up to your apartment before he knows it, punching in the gate code that he still has memorized, begging and praying to whatever good karma he’s drummed up in the universe, that Eren fucking Jaegar is not in your apartment with you.

He knocks on your door, fussing with his hair a little as he bounces on the balls of his feet, unsure what to do with all this nervous energy. When he hears the lock disengage he pulls his hand away from his hair as fast as he can, trying to look as casual as possible, like he hasn’t thought about you every second of every day for the past three months.

“H-hi,” you answer the door, obviously feeling a little uncomfortable with this whole situation yourself, but he doesn’t know if it’s the same kind of nerves he’s having or something else. But fuck, you look so pretty, so so pretty, with your hair draped over your shoulders in loose waves, the way you always wore it before, wearing a crew neck and some shorts.

“He-” Jean’s voice cracks, it fucking cracks. Seriously? What, is he sixteen again? He clears his throat and starts again, “Hey,”

You let him in, and he gets enveloped in your smell, he practically sighs as he breathes in the familiar comfortable scent of you and your things. He didn’t know you could miss a person’s smell this much. He looks around expecting to see the place how he remembers, but he’s thrown off when everything looks different. You’ve rearranged all your furniture. Thankfully, though, you’re the only one here, there’s no sign of another guy having been here at all. He lets out a little sigh of relief, following you into the kitchen where sopping towels are littering the floor.

“I just came home from work and found it like this. I don't know what happened.” you say, waving your arm to the floor.

“Well, let’s just see. I’m sure it’s just a loose rivet or something,” Jean walks past you, trying his best not to let your proximity as he does get to him, fighting the urge to just take you in his arms and not let go. That’s not why he’s here, you didn’t call him for that. He’s thankful that you called him for an actual task, something for him to focus on so he’s not just staring at you, he’s afraid if he stares too long he’ll snap.

You stand in the kitchen with him while he patches everything up, it’s an easy fix, just like he thought. A baby with a wrench could fix this, so again, his mind drifts back to why you called him and not Eren, not that he’s complaining. He thinks it all feels very domestic, you watching him fix up things around the house. He’d fix everything you asked him too if he could hold onto this feeling. He’s surprised when you crouch down next to him, trying to see what he’s doing.

“It was loose, right here, I’m just tightening it up.” He smiles as he looks at you briefly, he can’t help it, you just look so pretty and you’re right next to him, right where you belong.

You smile back at him and he feels his heart lurch again, turning the wrench a little more, satisfied with his work, he catches your eye, “and that should do it, you should be all set now.”

He stands up, wiping his hands on his pants before offering you a hand up. When you take his hand he bites back a smile at the feel of your hand in his again after so much time, even if it is a harmless interaction. Standing up with him, you don’t pull your hand away right away, lingering there for just a second too long. Did he imagine that? No, no you definitely lingered.

You brush a strand of hair behind your ear and smile at him sheepishly. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.” God, your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

“It’s not a problem, I don’t mind helping you.” Jean runs a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck, looking away from you, still nervous. He knows the whole reason he came is taken care of now, and he doesn’t want to leave, but he thinks that’s what you might want.

“So, I should–”

“Do you want–”

You both speak at once, sharing a nervous chuckle. Jean lets you go first, giving you a look that says so.

“Do you, um.. Want a drink?” You look nervous, awkward. Surely he’s imagining it, he doesn't want to get his hopes up too high. “It’s the least I could do, calling you over here on a Friday night. I’m sure you had better things to do.” You give him another shy smile and he swears he could melt into a puddle right there.

“Uh, sure. Y-yeah, a drink sounds good.”

“All I have are those hard seltzers I usually get, that okay?” you ask like you expect him to remember, and he does. He wants you to know how much he remembers about you; everything, he remembers everything.

So, just drinks for yourself? No beer, no liquor, nothing he thinks a guy like Eren might drink. Interesting. So far, everything he’s observed has led him to the conclusion that maybe you and Eren aren’t together. Maybe Sasha was right, and the two of you are just friends?

“That’s fine,” He bends down, putting his wrench away, placing his tool bag on your counter. Turning back to look at you, the slim can in your hand as you hold it out to him. He takes it, following you over to the couch where you both take a seat next to each other.

His body feels like it’s vibrating, sitting this close to you. You didn’t have to sit this close, but you did. He pops the tab, taking a drink to calm his nerves, and you do the same.

“So, how have you been? It’s been a while.” You speak so softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear again, a nervous habit. Are you feeling the same tension he is? Is he making it all up because he missed you so much?

“Uh, good, good.” He lies, what is he supposed to say? That he’s been completely miserable without you? No, if he’s wrong and you have moved on, he has to at least pretend he’s been doing alright. “Work is, well, work, you know. Haven’t been doing much else. What about you?”

“Y-yeah, no, things are, um, they’re okay. I finally got promoted at work.” you smile at him again, before taking another sip. “I’m officially management.”

Pride swells in his chest, he knows how badly you wanted to move up in your job, how much you craved more responsibility. He’s glad your place of work is finally acknowledging your potential.

“Hey, that’s great. I’m really happy for you,” and he is, genuinely. “Is it everything you wanted it to be?”

You give a little snort, “I mean, I guess. Workplace drama is a lot more stressful when you’re actually the one in charge of trying to defuse it, instead of just listening to all the gossip.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re handling it fine, you were always good at that kind of stuff.”

You huff a little laugh again, thanking him before pulling the sleeves of your crew neck up while adjusting your position on the couch. That’s when he sees it, that little glimmer of silver on your wrist. His heart pounds harder as he sees it. You’re still wearing your bracelet. You still have it.

“You’re still wearing that,” Jean points out, his voice coming out little more than a whisper, like he just can’t believe it, his eyes locked on the bracelet.

A blush blooms across your cheeks and Jean is positive it’s not just the alcohol. Fuck not getting his hopes up, you wouldn’t still be wearing something he got you if you didn’t miss him a little bit.

“Oh, yeah..” you fiddle with the bracelet with your free hand, “I um.. I feel a little naked without it, you know?” you cheeks are still flushed as you look up at him.

Jean just smiles at you, “yeah, I know what you mean.” he says as he pulls the chain out from under his shirt. “I got so used to wearing it everyday, it just doesn’t feel right with it off.” It’s not even a lie, just, not a full truth. His nerves are slowly fading away, getting replaced with renewed hope.

“Well, it does still look good on you,” you reach your hand up to run your fingers along the chain, Jean feels a jolt of electricity in your touch that practically lights his skin on fire, and that’s when he really knows. There’s no way you’d be touching him like this if you didn’t miss him, if you were seeing someone else. He’s never felt so much relief in his life. “Suits you, for sure.”

He takes his hand placing it over yours, goosebumps prickling his skin where your fingers dance along the chain. “You..um, you have good taste,” he says, his breath turning a little shallow, he knows he’s not imagining all the tension that’s been slowly building up since he got here. “I never would have picked anything like this for myself.”

Your hand is so small in his, he’s always been bigger than you, taller, more muscular. He didn't realize how much he missed it until now, he was so caught up with missing all the other parts of you that this bit seemed to have slipped his mind. You’re looking at him with your pretty doe eyes, letting him hold your hand, he can practically see the hearts in your eyes, looking at him like you used to. Fuck it, he’s going for it. Drinks completely forgotten on the coffee table as he scoots a little closer to you, just enough so that your knees are touching.

“I’ve really missed you.” He whispers, leaning in just a little closer, he hears your breath hitch in your throat, your eyes flitting to his lips.

He smiles as you lean in too. You want it just as much as he does. “Me too..”

When he finally presses his lips to yours he almost explodes with happiness, he’s feeling giddy, all these pent up feelings pouring out into your lips. He cups the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, a silent request for permission. He sighs as you grant it, opening your mouth for him so he can glide his tongue along yours, and you moan into his mouth. You fucking moan. He loses any semblance of control he had. His hands move, roaming over your back and the two of you lose yourselves in the moment. Without really thinking about it he pulls you onto his lap, moving his mouth to press hot kisses to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin. It always was one of your favorite spots. His hands run under your sweatshirt, caressing your back, savoring the feel of your soft skin under his palms.

“Missed you so fucking much.” Jean breathes out between kisses, groaning as you grind your hips onto his lap when he kisses your neck again.

“Missed you too. Thought…Thought about you all the time…” Your words are broken up by little gasps. Jean thinks he could die happy, just like this, but then your hands go to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off, running your hands over the contours of his chest and he feels like he’s going to burn out of his skin.

His hands follow suit with yours, pulling your sweatshirt off, discarding it on the floor next to his, drinking in the sight of you, sighing when he sees your bare chest. Running his hands over your tits, kissing his way down your neck and your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and starts kissing and sucking, pinching at the other one with his free hand. You arch your back into his touch and he moves his hands back around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He just needs you closer, so much closer.

You just grind against him, he can feel the heat coming off of you, listening to your breath get more and more ragged as you wrap your arms around his neck in order to get closer, pulling his head up.

“I’m sorry. Jean, I’m so sorry.. I never should have–” your voice sounds broken, despite the desire and need coursing through the both of you. It breaks his heart to hear you sounding so sad. You don’t even have to explain what you’re apologizing for, he already knows.

Jean cuts you off with a kiss, running his fingers through your hair, shushing you softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He soothes, pressing soft kisses between his words. “Later. We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” He pulls back, pressing his forehead to yours, looking in your eyes with all the love he has for you.

You give him a feeble little nod, kissing him passionately. Your tongues glide together as you taste each other, making up for lost time, and god, does he want to make up for it. With that in mind, his hands move to the plush of your ass, squeezing as you keep your lips on him. As much as he doesn’t want to push you away from him, he needs to touch you. He runs his hands over your bare thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, pushing you back just enough so he can get the leverage he needs. Tugging them off, you lift your hips to help him. He looks down and sees you clad in lace, one of his favorite pairs. A brief look of surprise as his brain sorts through it. You… you planned for this, at least to some degree. All doubts completely leave his head as a satisfied grin curls on his lips.

“You wear these just for me, baby?” He murmurs into your ear as he nips at your earlobe, fingers already dancing along the sides of your panties.

You give him another nod and a breathy little sound that he assumes, if you were able to form the words, would be a confirmation. He pushes the material aside, running a finger through your folds. Shit, you're so fucking wet for him. He’s going to lose his mind. His finger swirls around your clit, eliciting moans and gasps from you. You’re already starting to squirm for him and he doesn’t let up, still swirling little circles with the pad of his finger.

“J-Jean,” you moan out his name and cling to him, holding his head tightly to your chest.

“‘M right here, baby, I got you. You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?”

“Y-yes, yes, yes, fuck!” He feels your legs shaking on him, still moving his hand. God, he missed seeing you like this.

“That’s it, that’s my girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl, did so well for me. ” He purrs into your skin, pressing kisses to your neck, giving you a second to catch your breath.

Turns out you don’t even want a breather, your hands moving desperately to his lap, frantically trying to undo his buttons, slipping your hand in and wrapping around his cock.

“Fuck,” Jean groans under his breath, lifting his hips with you still on his lap, so he can shove his pants down enough for you pull him all the way out.

Your hand pumps him, smearing the precum over his flushed tip, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. You keep working him, your hands are always so soft, twisting your wrist a bit on the way up, squeezing the tip just a little. He loves the way he looks in your hands, your smaller ones making him look even bigger. His eyes catch a little glimmer, and he groans again when he sees you jerking him with your bracelet bouncing on your wrist with your movements. All he can think about is that you’re his, you're his, you're his. That one little accessory tells the whole world. Maybe he’ll replace it with a ring. He leans forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking a shaky breath.

“Shit, you’re makin’ me feel so good, but I don’t… fuck, I don’t want to cum like this.” He pulls back to look in your eyes, seeing nothing but how good you want to make him feel and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.

He pulls your panties to the side again, lifting you up, lining himself up with your entrance and pulls you down onto him. Jean thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. He has never felt anything better than you wrapped around him like this. You both let out audible moans, as you adjust to him. Without any warning, you start bouncing on him. His eyes roll back as he drops his head to the back of the couch. Your bounces are slow, deliberate, he’s sure he’s in heaven.

“You feel so good. Love how full you make me feel.” You murmur, breathy, into his ear, bracing yourself on his shoulders.

As much as he’d love to just sit here and bask in you riding him, he’s going to cum way too soon if he lets you keep going like this, especially if you keep using that mouth of yours to whisper everything he’s been wanting to hear for the past three months in his ear. He moves his hands back to your ass, grabbing handfuls of you, doing the work for you for another second or two before he wraps his arm around your waist he starts fucking up into you.

“Missed my pussy so much, baby. She’s mine, yeah? That’s what this means doesn’t it?” He growls, taking your wrist, adorned with your bracelet, showing it to you. “That’s why you never took it off? Been mine this whole time haven’t you?”

Your walls squeeze him, as you hear his words, and he groans again. “All yours, Jean.. al-always yours.”

In all his desperation to get close to you, to get inside of you, he didn’t think your panties would cause a problem, but at this point they’re in his way, they won’t stay to one side. He moves his hand, gripping the flimsy garment, and pulls hard, tearing them.

“Jean!” You protest, looking down at where the two of you are connected.

“I’ll buy you new ones,” He mutters before he picks up his pace, finally able to fuck you the way he wants, slamming his hips up into you.

You don’t seem to care so much anymore, as your eyes roll back, and you let out a cry. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, moving to bury your face in his neck. And for Jean, right now, that just won’t do, he wants to see you, wants to see your face contorted in pleasure. He brings his hand to the back of your neck, tugging your hair so you’re looking at him.

“Look at me, baby, wanna see you.” Shit, he already feels close. Not having you for all these months, and finally getting you, getting to see in your face how good he’s making you feel and how much you missed him too. He didn’t think he was going to last long anyway. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, all tongues and teeth.

“Ba-baby, ‘m close,” you whine, eyes glazed over, face scrunched up just the way he likes.

“Me too, cum with me, yeah?” His hand snakes between you, finding your clit, rubbing circles on it with his thumb.

He feels you clenching around him, cunt pulsing and god he missed this feeling, missed feeling you come apart just for him. You say his name again and again like a prayer and he just can’t hold back anymore.

“Fuck, baby, I’m shit–” He tries to warn you so you can get off of him, but you just stay put, slamming down on him again and again. He cums hard, painting your insides white.

Still holding onto you tightly, one hand on your neck and the other around your waist, you both just stay locked in an embrace, panting. Each of your heads are resting on the others shoulders, Jean presses little kisses there while he catches his breath.

“God, I really did miss you so much.” He whispers into your skin. “And not just this, all of it. I missed all of you.”

“I know, I missed you too. I wanted to call you or text you, or anything. I just…didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.” Your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck and he just savors the moment.

Neither one of you moves, you just sit there holding each other. You haven’t even gotten off of him yet, his cock going soft inside you, feeling his cum leak out onto his lap, but he couldn’t care less. He just runs his fingertips up and down your back tenderly.

“You really scared me, you know that?” Jean says when he finally feels like breaking the silence.

You lift your head, giving him a puzzled look. “What do you mean? How did I scare you?”

Jean sighs, it sounds stupid now, in hindsight, thinking that you had moved on. “I thought you were dating that Eren guy. You posted a picture with him and I kind of freaked out.”

It seems like it takes a second for his words to register, because you’re quiet for a moment before you burst into a full fit of laughter. Jean just gives you a pointed look. He doesn’t see what’s so funny about that. You’re laughing so hard you practically roll off of him, landing on your side on the couch, your legs still draped over him. He follows suit, cuddling you when he gets onto his side.

“What’s so funny?”

You finally stop laughing long enough to answer him. “Eren? EW.” you manage to get out before you start giggling again. “He’s like a brother to me, we grew up together. I haven’t seen him before that post since he left for school. You really thought I was dating Eren??”

Jean’s cheeks flush, a little pout forming on his face. “What was I supposed to think? He was way too close to you in that picture.”

Your laughter subsides, and you brush some hair out of his face, giving him a soft smile. “He just took me out for the day because I was so sad about you. I felt like I’d made a big mistake, and he just wanted to get my mind off of it for a little while. Besides, even if he wasn’t like a brother, he’s been in love with the same girl from middle school since he was like, twelve years old.”

You look like you have more to say but you’re hesitating. Clearly feeling a little nervous, he just nudges you gently, wanting you to continue.

You take a deep breath before going on, “I am sorry.. I shouldn’t have broken up with you, and for such a stupid reason.”

“What was the reason, exactly?” He asks, he never actually got the full story.

“I just… I liked you too much, things were going too well. I guess I kind of panicked, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop.”

Jean just stares at you, of all the reasons he thought it was, he didn’t think it was this.

“So… you broke up with me, because things were going too well?”

“It sounds stupid when you say it like that!” You bury your face into his chest, hiding your blush. “I said I was sorry.”

“What if there’s no other shoe? What if we’re just good together? Did you think about that?” He asks, no malice or hurt in his voice, just genuine curiosity. He presses a little kiss to the top of your head, trying to soothe you.

“There’s always another shoe.” You mutter, not bothering to lift your head up.

Jean sighs, taking your chin in his hand, pulling you up so that you’re eye to eye with him. “Baby, I promise, I will do everything in my power to ensure that there is no other shoe, okay? You have a problem, just talk to me. Let me be there for you, let me try and make things better. I’m not saying everything will be perfect all the time, but just know I’ll try my damndest for you.” He presses a kiss to your lips, sealing his promise.

“Yeah.. okay,” you finally give him another smile, and he kisses you again, unable to resist. “So, can I be your girlfriend again?”

“As long as you promise not to break up with me for such a stupid reason ever again.” He smiles at you again, pressing another kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into his chest.

“Promise,” you mumble as you nuzzle into him.

Jean’s happier than he’s been in months, with you in his arms, right back where you belong.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and Reblogs are always appreciated!💖

#jean kirstein #snk jean #jean x reader #aot smut #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirstein smut #snk smut #snk x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #jean x you #jean x y/n #aot fanfiction #no use of y/n

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missviviii · 3 months

Note

I saw your post and could I request a Zayne fluff where he comes home from a tiring work day & us making him a coffee + preparing a warm bath

a/n: ooooh!!! sure!! <3

ミ★ Love & Deepspace ミ★

pairing: zayne x reader

warning(s): none

summary: zayne has been so busy lately, and you decided to help him relax after a late night at work with a warm bubbly bath and a cup of coffee with a side of him laying in between your legs with his head stuffed into your chest.

“Best Thing to Come Home to.”

It’s no surprise that Zayne often goes home late and always wake up super duper early. Lately, you’ve been staying at his place since your place needed some of its heating and plumbing fixed and other issues. Very much reluctantly so (actually he agreed quite quickly), he let you stay with him until your place was finished.

You worked as a Hunter, yes, and there were days where you had to pull all-nighters or wake up extremely early for missions, but on the whole, you felt like Zayne had very little time to relax properly. So for today, you decided to pamper him a bit, helping your dear Zayne relax.

Tick Tock the sound of his clock in his office ticked. On it, it read 11:20 pm. Just some minutes away from midnight. Zayne sighs, leaning back in his chair as he takes off his glasses and rubs his temples. Just a few more files, and he’ll be able to go home, maybe even sleep in for an extra few minutes since he actually had some leeway in his schedule tomorrow. He put back on his glasses, continuing to work on those patient files before he turned off the lights in his office then left.

You were in the kitchen, brewing some fresh piping hot coffee for Zayne while you were preparing a small dinner for him. You didn’t really cook often, but sometimes you did when you really felt like it. Zayne had texted you he was heading home in about 20 minutes, and you had already prepared a nice warm bath for him. You were reading the news on your phone when you heard the door open, and a tired voice came out. “I’m home,” Zayne said as he hung up his coat on the coat hanger. His house smelled like freshly brewed coffee. Zayne looked towards the kitchen, where you were just leaving after finishing your hands.

“Hey! Thought I’d make a cup of coffee for you. Also, I prepared you a warm bath upstairs.” You smiled while you leaned against the doorway, watching him look at you in a certain way. Well aren’t you nice today? Not that he didn’t like it… In fact, he very much did like it.

Zayne only hummed as he took off his shoes. “Aren’t you being nice today?” He mused, looking at you with a slight tilt to his head. He leaned in close, closely inspecting your face. “What’s the occasion? I don’t usually return from work to find you being so nice. Perhaps you are sick?” He put his hand up to your forehead, to which you swatted away.

“I’m gonna take back the bath and the coffee if you don’t stop messing with me!” You pouted as you turned your back around and stormed off to the kitchen

Zayne let out a sigh, not a disappointment one, but more of an amused one. He took off his glasses before heading to the bathroom, where you had prepared a bath for him already. “Very nice of you, hm?” He muttered to himself as he closed the door and took off his uniform, slowly sliding himself into the warm water. It smelled like lavender and vanilla, mainly because you had used lavender soap for the bubble bath and had vanilla scented candles all around.

You were laying on the couch and on your phone, texting Tara about your plans to hang out whenever you both are off of work. You didn’t notice Zayne coming down, clad in his comfy pajamas and his black hair messy. Suddenly, you felt someone climbing onto the couch and hovering over you. “Zayne?” You called out as you looked away from your phone, only to find him shifting around and laying in between your legs, head on your chest while his arms were wrapped around your waist. “I made coffee, do you want any?”

“Later. Let me have this for now,” he mumbled as he nuzzled his face closer against you, his eyes fluttering shut as he enjoyed your hands running through his hair. You were like a personal heater, your body warmer compared to his. And he lived for the cuddles and hugs you provided. “Just another minute with you, my love.”

#love & deepspace fluff #love & deepspace #love and deepspace #love & deepsace x reader #zayne x mc #zayne x reader #zayne #my writing #vivi’s writing✫彡 #vivi’s ask #ask answered #send me asks #send asks

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

Note

AITA for leaving an unflushable poo in someone's toilet? ....This one is gross. Sorry.

I have diverticulitis, which is... a bathroom issue. They thought it was Crohn's for a long time, and many incompetent doctors + health complications later, they found out I had an enormous abscess and a golfball-sized fistula growing inside my colon. As you can imagine, this comes with a plethora of issues I am too embarrassed to divulge in their entirety.

This event happened before I had the abscess surgically removed, so I was mid 20s at the time. A friend set me up with this guy I had met once before at a party (J). It was practically a blind date. Things went well and we went back to his house.

Then it happened.

The gurgling. The pain. I told him I needed to go to the bathroom. As luck would have it, this was the WORST bathroom emergency I have ever had in my entire life. I shat more than I have ever shat. I was worried parts of my body would escape out of me and I would somehow reverse-hungry-caterpillar myself into nothingness.

I spent so long doing the deed and trying to clean it up, it must have been around 2 full hours, and we were both reasonably drunk - so when I went to peek my head in the living room, he was asleep. I tried again to plunge this beast back from whence it came. I was crying. It's quite funny in hindsight but as you can imagine, easily one of the worst humiliations I have ever endured. At one point, I had my HAND and FOREARM down this guy's toilet trying to set free the freakish poobaby I had just conceived in his otherwise impeccable loo (a fancy one with BUTTONS instead of a flush handle!). I even took the top off the toilet and tried to... hand-pump the water, I guess? Desperation.

I finally gave up. The whole room stank like sulfur and purse-sized citrus bodyspray so I cracked the window and cleaned up the best I could. I realized that it was, at this point, best left to a professional plumber, or perhaps an exorcist. I was younger and embarrassed and opted to go home, leaving nothing but a foul scent trail and a very small note (Later referred to by my friends as the Ghost Shitter Calling Card) written on a toilet paper square that said "oops" because I guess I thought that would be funny and maybe soften the blow. It was decidedly Not Funny, however, and to my surprise, he never made me foot the plumbing bill, but he did politely tell me that he was uninterested in going out again. Not that I blame him.

Lots of crying and shame later, and after getting my issues fixed via surgery, I am now wondering if there was a better course of action here. My friends do love this story but some of them have mentioned they would be LIVID if somebody did that to them. I know I am probably the asshole for leaving it like that. I really did try my best, and I do believe any people on here with less-than-ladylike health issues will at least partially understand what it's like, and what I was thinking at the time.

TLDR I clogged my date's toilet and left it like that since he fell asleep. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #unsanitary cw

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blues824 · 5 months

Note

Can i request dorm leaders with a Mario reader (the Mario odyssey version) and how they would react to their hat and their ship

it goes like this : the reader has been a janitor for a long time because their ship crashed in twisted wonderland and they can't leave until their ship is repaired . When riddle's overblot happened they helped defeat him by throwing their hat on riddle's head and controlling him to help him calm down. After that, they obtained power moons from the ink monster, then realized they can get power moons from defeating bosses and so on...

please and thank you

Gender-neutral reader, not Yuu, who lives at Ramshackle and is in their 2nd year. More platonic than romantic, but is very vague. I’m an English-server player, so Chapter 7 events have not happened yet.

Riddle Rosehearts

You were the student who got in on a free scholarship because you volunteered to be the school’s plumber. It was technically a well-paying job, as you got free housing, free food from the cafeteria because of a special pass from Headmage Crowley. You did, after all, have superhuman abilities of your own. While they don’t count as ‘magic’, they do put you at an advantage of sorts.

Riddle had noticed you around NRC, and he’s even had to call you when the pipes under the sink were leaking. You were very friendly, and you came with a rather peculiar red hat upon your head. But, you did your job quite well. The pipes were fixed… after you literally went into the pipes to the sound of an 8-Bit arcade game.

When he overblotted, your red hat came in handy. You threw it at him, and it grew eyes of its own. Once it knocked the crown off his head and replaced it with itself, Riddle found himself in the backseat of his own mind. You were there, directing the ‘ship’ as well as helping him to calm down. You must have had a younger sibling or something with the way that you were so encouraging and positive, despite him almost killing you.

Eventually, you got ejected out of his mind and you were dizzy once you got outside. You sat down, your legs spread out on the grass, your head spinning and with stars and swirls and tweeting birds circling around you. Riddle was in a similar state, so you were both about to be taken to the infirmary. However, something dropped from the heavens above. It was a moon. You, stumbling about, got up and walked over, and picked it up. Your vision focused for a few seconds to see that it was a Power Moon, before you passed out.

The Housewarden of Heartslabyul woke up a few hours later, only to find that he was alone. From what he remembered, you were brought here as well. He got up from his bed and started asking around, only to find out that you were at the old Ramshackle dorm. He knew that was where you lived, but how did you get all the way over there in your condition? When he got there, you were working on a rather large and weird-looking steam-powered ship. You attached a strange moon-shaped object, and the ship rattled with life, spooking the 17-year-old.

A jolly laugh emitted from you, but you turned around to see Riddle behind you. You were surprised that he was there, but you asked if he was alright. This was overwhelming for him, so you decided to just roll with it. If Luigi could deal with this, so could Riddle. You explained that the ship in front of the two of you was called the ‘Odyssey’, and that you were looking for a way home. The Power Moon that you just attached to it powered the ship a bit, but you needed six more. He promised that he would help you and Yuu get those moons as payment for your help.

Leona Kingscholar

You were an agreeable person that he tolerated. He wasn’t particularly fond of your social personality, but you were at least able to pick up on it and keep conversations professional. He, too, has had to call you a few times for plumbing issues, and you would keep talking to a minimum as he showed you where the issue was. The first time you disappeared into the pipe itself, though, made him sort of freak out. He thought you weren’t magical and that you were just an ordinary plumber.

Well, whatever you did, you did your job well. The plumbing didn’t have any issues for a while after that, and he gave you a small (but still considerable) sum of money as payment. You immediately invested it into Ramshackle, as you wanted to help Yuu and Grim out as much as possible. You and Leona did not cross paths after that, you understanding that he wasn’t a very friendly person.

That was, until Leona overblotted. You are called because of the work you had done for Riddle. Once again, you threw your hat, and Capps landed on the lion’s head. Leona took the backseat in his own mind and you were, once again, steering the ship. Your presence was somehow calming, but he noticed that your normal red hat was not on your head. Instead, it was on his head. You encouraged him to keep fighting for #1 in any race he went through, and he really felt it in his soul.

Anyways, you were a bit more used to taking control over the overblot monster by this point, so you had consciousness for 5 minutes instead of 5 seconds. Of course, you were tired. Your father had not trained you, and thus you were having trouble adjusting to taking over someone/something else’s body. You were able to get the Power Moon and make it about 30 steps before passing out.

Leona woke up in the infirmary wondering where you were. He knows that you had been there to recover from taking over his body, and you probably needed a longer recovery period than he did because you didn’t really have magic. He walked all the way to Ramshackle in search of you just to see the Odyssey firing up once again after you added the second Power Moon.

You explained that this could be a way to help Yuu get home as well as yourself, and for some reason, Leona resented the thought of you leaving. You were the only person who knew his weaknesses as well as his strengths, and if you were gone, he would have no one he could be vulnerable with. However, he did also vow to help you restore your ship, because you deserved to go back to the Mushroom Kingdom.

Azul Ashengrotto

Neither he nor any of the other mer-students know the first thing about plumbing, so when the pipes get clogged because someone flushed something they were not supposed to, you were the person he called. You were actually very friendly and very willing to do your work with a smile, and he offered you 3 weeks’ worth of vouchers for food and drinks at the Mostro Lounge. What he did not expect was for you to go inside the pipes.

Because you were employed by Crowley himself, there was no need for actual payment from Azul. However, he almost felt obligated to compensate you for your work. Thus, the vouchers. You were there the next week, actually, and Jade was your server. He told his boss that you were there, and the cecaelia found himself rushing out of his office to sit with you and speak with you. It was a very nice conversation, actually.

Anyways, when Azul overblotted, you were immediately called. You were well-versed in battling and swimming, plus you now had experience with battling overblots. Cappy flew through the water like he flies through the air, and you took over the body of the overblot victim. Inside, you saw a small version of Azul… when he was more ‘squishy’, as Floyd had so kindly referred to him. You went up to him and patted his head (which had Cappy on it) before telling him that he was doing a good job, and that he shouldn’t give up.

Spending this amount of time was really stretching yours and your hats’ boundaries, and you flew out of Azul’s mind like you were ejected from something. You spent a total of 10 minutes in the cecaelia’s mind, and you were exhausted. You thought your condition after Leona was bad, but this was worse. You were hallucinating as well as stumbling. You saw three Power Moons, and used the very last of your energy to target the middle one. Unfortunately for your dignity, you missed it completely.

Azul was in no better state than you were, and he woke up the next day in the infirmary. However, from what he remembered seeing, you had collapsed. Thus, shouldn’t you have been in the infirmary as well? He asked the nurse attending, and they said that you had woken up only a half-hour later and went right to Ramshackle. So guess where he went? To get himself spooked by you adding the third Power Moon to the Odyssey. The ship rattled with life, floating for a few seconds before sinking back to the ground.

You turned around and spotted your cecaelia friend as well as Leona and Riddle. The latter two were there out of obligation, as they felt as though they should be there to commemorate the progress you were making with getting you and Yuu home. Azul greeted you before asking about your weird ship, and you jumped up into it and told him as well as the other two, and Yuu and Grim, everything there was to know.

Kalim Al-Asim

He called you regularly, mainly because you were his friend, but also because people keep flushing insects that they find down the toilets after they pick them up with toilet paper. All that toilet paper caused it to get clogged multiple times, but you didn’t mind. Every single time you came, Kalim knew that you were going to do a good job, and after he would pay you a handsome sum of money. That money went right to Ramshackle dorm.

The first time you went over to fix the plumbing was a time of wonder for the Housewarden. You went inside of the pipes, and you came back out completely dry. He was absolutely amazed by your ability, and the pipes were completely fine from that point on for the next few months. That was, until the plumbing was clogged again and he got to call you again. This started a very cute friendship between you both.

When Jamil overblotted, Kalim was even more startled when you threw your hat at Jamil before you got teleported. When the dust settled, the Octotrio, Grim, Yuu, and he noticed that you weren’t with them. You were, instead, inside the mind of Jamil, trying to get him to relax. However, this was unlike anything you had seen before. By the time you had gotten out, you were throwing up because of the overexertion that you had caused yourself.

Kalim returned just in time for you to pass out. You didn’t even reach the Power Moon this time. However, in the infirmary, you woke up just 30 minutes later trying to leave. The nurses as well as he were wrestling and arguing with you so that you could rest. However, you used your superhuman strength as well as your ability to jump to your advantage. You ran to Ramshackle, the young Al-Asim trailing after you as best as he could.

There, he saw Yuu and you adding a moon-shaped thing to a weird-looking ship. You gave him a hug like you didn’t just fight against him, and you took him aboard the Odyssey to give him a tour. He was like a kid in a candy store, completely amazed at the piece of machinery. Sure, Twisted Wonderland was known for many sorts of odd things, but he hasn’t seen anything like the Odyssey. There was nothing in T.W. that actually could travel between dimensions like you promised it could.

However, if you and Yuu were going to leave, Kalim would definitely miss you both. After all, you both became good friends over the course of his friend’s unfortunate downfall. But, he offers to help you as well as the other three you have called your friends. Actually, Riddle, Leona, and Azul showed up not long after, congratulating you on the 4th Moon. This little group of friends you were creating reminded you of your dad’s friends back in the Mushroom Kingdom.

Vil Schoenheit

He made sure that everyone knew proper bathroom etiquette, as he believes it’s very important. That being said, he calls you at regular intervals to keep up maintenance on the plumbing. Again, it typically follows with some money, as it is a rather filthy job. And again, the money just goes straight to bettering Ramshackle. After all, Grim needs his fancy tuna, and you are the sole breadwinner of the dormitory.

The first time you went into the pipes to perform the proper maintenance, Vil freaked out. You just disappeared into the tubes to the sound of an 8-bit sound. He looked inside of the opened pipe and he saw absolutely nothing. There was no sound, and he didn’t know what happened. He was about to use magic to find you but you came back out with the same sound not five minutes later, raving about how those were the clearest pipes you have seen thus far in the two years you’ve been at NRC.

When he overblotted, he also knew your routine, but Cappy has this thing where it’s like a missile, and it won’t stop until it’s reached its target. That being said, it wasn’t without difficulty that Cappy finally found its way onto Vil’s head after removing his overblot crown. You went into his mind, and found him screaming and pacing. You sat down on the floor and made him sit down in front of you, and you made him go quiet. You reminded him that a story could not exist without a villain, but a villain could exist without a hero, and thus he was technically the hero of the story.

Getting him to a point where you could actually talk to him took a lot of time. Another 10 minutes was spent, and your exhaustion showed. You threw up again, your body unable to withstand being in someone’s mind for that long. However, it was long enough to get the Housewarden of Pomefiore to calm down. Cappy was exhausted as well, and you both passed out. However, you were able to get the Power Moon this time.

After an infirmary trip and a speedy recovery from the two of you, as one has superhuman abilities and the other has a healthy lifestyle, you both made your way to Ramshackle. Because of what you had gone through that day, you decided it was time to show him the Odyssey, and he was honestly impressed by the craftsmanship on the ship. You obviously cared a lot, and because this was the 5th Moon, it was starting to operate and hover above the ground.

The Odyssey groaned, becoming awakened at the addition of the Moon. Yuu and Grim started to celebrate and cheer at the prospect of Yuu and you finally being able to go home. Sure, the pyromaniac of a cat would miss his Ramshackle dorm-mates, but this was not a time for sad thoughts. Vil was later joined by Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, and Jamil as they congratulated you on the progression in your journey.

Idia Shroud

The first time he sees you, your hat reminded him of a sequel game in the series I Need to Rescue the Princess From an Evil Turtle Trying to Marry Her!!! However, the reason for your visit was rather embarrassing. One of his inventions kind of went haywire in the bathroom, and the pipes were no longer working. But, you weren’t judging! This was your job, and you were happy to meet new people.

You went inside the pipes, making Idia and Ortho freak out. Where had you gone? You came back out with soot all over your face and clothes. Your expression looked shell-shocked. You quickly shook everything off as you shook the Housewarden’s hand before heading off to your next job. Before you left, however, Ortho rushed to you and gave you a blue sack of money as payment for what you just went through.

When Idia overblots, you were already on-scene. You needed that Power Moon, after all. However, it was going to be much more difficult to obtain it because of the mechanical overblot. Cappy even had a hard time getting into Idia’s personal bubble, much less onto his head. You were close to your limit when your hat finally made it, and you were transported inside his mind. You found him sitting at his older brother’s burial site, and so you laid a flower on the ground before extending your hand to him. This is the first step to moving on, you said. He accepted your hand, and that is when you were ejected out of his mind.

Luckily, you weren’t there for very long. 5 minutes, and you were pretty much fine. You were definitely very dizzy, and you were still stumbling about, but with the help of Ace and Deuce, you were able to get the world to stop spinning for a second. Idia collapsed, and you ran over to see if he was alright. Then, you both were taken to the infirmary, and that was the last thing either of you remembered.

A few hours later, the Housewarden of Ignihyde woke up in the infirmary bed, recollecting his memories. Ortho was right next to him, but he wondered where you had gone. The young robot informed him that you had gone to Ramshackle to add the Power Moon to the Odyssey, and he was so confused. Weren’t those items only in that video game you reminded him of? This was nonsense.

It was not nonsense, as when he made it to Ramshackle, the Housewardens of the other dormitories were there along with Yuu, Grim, and yourself. The Odyssey seemed almost fully functional, save for just one more Power Moon. Everyone knew where that last Power Moon would most likely come from, and to say that you were scared would be an understatement. However, you have Idia’s vow that he will help you prepare for that battle if it’s needed.

Malleus Draconia

He actually has no reason to call you. The plumbing at Diasomnia is always in perfectly functioning order, and no maintenance is needed because it’s his magic that makes it run perfectly all the time. But, he did find the fact that NRC had a student plumber to be rather interesting, so he decided to have Lilia call you to run general maintenance on the plumbing system anyway.

You showed up with your toolbox and a smile on your face, not even being deterred by the spooky appearance of the Diasomnia dormitory. The Koopa Castle was much scarier back in the Mushroom Kingdom, anyway. You knocked on the door, and it was answered by two knights, one you recognized as your classmate, Silver. They led you to Malleus, and he was a lot taller than you imagined. Anyway, you asked where the most accessible location to the pipes was, and he showed you one of the restrooms. He did not expect you to enter the pipes.

This little job actually started a friendship between you two, and he would ask many questions about your occupation as well as your homeland. You told him about your father and mother, and how you were technically the heir to the throne of the Mushroom Kingdom, but you needed to find a way back home. That brings up the Odyssey, and he goes with you to visit it and see what it was. At this point, it was right after Riddle’s overblot, so there was only one Power Moon.

One thing he was surprised to see was that his magic did not work when it came to powering the Odyssey. It required a more powerful type of magic that not even he had. He was sure that his grandmother nor any of the other 3 most powerful mages in Twisted Wonderland could even attempt to power the ship. It was made to transverse between dimensions, and their magic was made to transverse between the realms of Twisted Wonderland.

Six overblots later and you’re terrified. You tell him that you are terrified of him overblotting because you were just exhausted. You knew that you would not be able to defeat him, and you didn’t want him to overblot at all because you knew that it would kill him. Malleus was saddened to hear your pain, and how you were very close to giving up on your dream as well as Yuu’s dream just because you physically couldn’t handle it.

But, the two of you knew that only overblots brought Power Moons. As much as the Housewarden wanted to deny it, he knew that if anyone were to overblot, it would be him. He also knew that there was no way Cappy, your hat, would be able to stay on his head long enough for you to be able to calm him down while you are in his mind. If he could, he would assure you that you had nothing to worry about, but because you knew of his tendency to get attached to those closest to him, you had everything to worry about.

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taetaespeaches · 1 year

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“Are you really not going to complain even once?”

yoongi x reader (oc) genre: fluff word count: 1.8K

a/n: Hi lovelies! Here’s a little handyman Min helping reader/Kid with some simple home improvement projects. He’s super sweet and adorable about it and she’s annoying but he’s endeared. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

p.s. Happy birthday to our favorite honey boy! It’s Yoongi day!!!

Observing your boyfriend from the bathroom doorway, you smirked at the little grunts that echoed through the room. Every twist of his wrench was accompanied by a low grumble from Yoongi’s throat. If he wasn’t fixing your sink out of the goodness of his heart, his undying love for you, and your complete inability to do it yourself, you’d tease him for being a grandpa.

When he arrived at your apartment fifteen minutes earlier, you had ambushed him with the home improvement project. He left a sweet kiss on your cheek as he entered your living room, immediately pulling his eyebrows together when you flashed him a pout. “What?”

“My bathroom sink is leaking,” you sighed.

The man glanced toward the bathroom in thought, a small pout taking over his own mouth. It just naturally did that. “Are the tools I left for you still in the hall closet?”

“If that’s where you left them,” you smirked, drawing your boyfriend’s attention back to you. He gave you a gummy smile and a slight shoulder shake as he laughed silently.

“You mean you haven’t touched them?” He asked, widening his eyes in feigned shock.

“Oh sure I have, I’m always fixing things around here,” you joked, nodding your head in exaggeration. “The… fridge,” you started listing, nearly laughing at the way Yoongi’s jaw dropped open slightly as he played along. “The window-”

“The window?” He asked in surprise and amusement.

“The…” you glanced down at the hardwood, “floorboards.”

“Wow, now that’s impressive,” he teased you, already leaving you to go get the tools you definitely had not touched since he brought them over with the justification of, just in case you need them.

“I know it is!” You shouted down the hall at him.

“You just didn’t fix the sink,” he pointed out, looking back toward the living room at you to find you standing with a stumped smirk. “Too busy patching up the floorboards.”

“I had to leave something for you,” you shrugged. “I’m charitable.”

Nodding and chuckling at you, he raised the tools so you could see them. “They’re dusty, by the way,” he noted, teasing you further. “Thanks for leaving the sink, you know how I love a plumbing project.” The sarcasm was thick but so was the fondness as he spoke.

“I know you do, I know this about you,” you continued joking as he disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you smiling like an idiot as your chest felt warm with affection.

Now, here you were watching him finish up the task you stuck him with, still cozy with that same sweet affection. “I should have made you cookies or something,” you suddenly realized. “Or some fresh squeezed lemonade,” you added with a saccharine and very bad southern accent. Yoongi looked up at you with a small smile, shaking his head at your antics.

“You mean to tell me there are no cookies?” He teased, making you frown playfully in response. With a huff, he dropped the wrench to the floor and leaned back on his hands, pretending to go on strike. “I would quit right now but,” he shrugged, “it’s done.”

“Oh my god, really?” You gasped in excitement at your essentially new sink. Rushing over, you turned it on and peered underneath, your face level with his, as you watched the pipes. “Look at that, not a leak in sight,” you awed, facing Yoongi and smiling at his pretty features as he watched you. “Thank you.”

He simply shrugged, brushing you off. Leaning toward him, you hovered over his lips, watching as Yoongi’s mouth quirked upward slightly, unable to hold the small smile back. He was the one who closed the gap, pushing himself forward just enough to catch your lips in a sweet kiss, your hand meeting the side of his face as you brushed his hair behind his ear and your lips continued to move against his appreciatively.

When you pulled away, the man’s eyelids fluttered open slowly, his eyelashes looking long and delicate, and so very pretty.

“Would you mind doing one more thing for me?” You asked tentatively, a guilty grin on your face. He gave you a soft close-mouthed smile with a single nod, letting you know it was no big deal. “My towel rack keeps falling off every time I pull the towel off.”

“The screw probably just needs to be tightened,” he guessed, his voice turning into a bit of a grunt as he lifted his body off the ground. Again, you thought about teasing him for his old man antics, but thought better of it.

He tugged on the pole, the bar coming off in his hand, making another adorable pout fall on his lips. So cute, you thought. Pushing the towel rack back onto its hinges, he sat underneath it and turned his screwdriver into- something- a few times. The whole thing took him about thirty seconds, and when he tugged on the rack again, it stayed attached to the wall.

“That’s it?” You asked in surprise, Yoongi flashing you a gummy smile.

“I’m just a pro, it would be tougher than that for a less skilled person,” he playfully gloated, making you roll your eyes as you beamed at him.

“Well, Mr. Handyman Min, my shower is also draining really slow,” you challenged him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I don’t have a drain snake,” he suddenly snapped into true handyman mode, looking at the shower thoughtfully. “But I have one at the dorm. Do you have some drano for now? I can bring the drain next time I come over.”

Staring at him in thought as you squinted your eyes, a smile lifted on the man’s mouth. “I don’t know, do I have drano?” You asked, fighting back a giggle at yourself.

“I left some for you,” he nodded down the hallway. “Under the kitchen sink.”

“I knew that,” you quickly recovered, hurrying to the kitchen and opening the cabinet doors to search through the cleaning supplies. The surface cleaners and glass solutions were used often, but anything to do with plumbing was a mystery to you. Finally finding the bottle, you rushed back to the bathroom, holding it up in victory. “I told you I had drano.”

Scoffing at you, he took the bottle from you with a small, “thanks, Kid.”

Once again, the process of using the drano took about thirty seconds, making you feel silly for never trying to fix these before handing the chores off to him. “I would do these things myself if it didn’t take you a total of thirty seconds,” you smiled softly. Yoongi grinned back, shaking his head to brush you off yet again. “Work smarter, not harder,” you added jokingly, earning a chuckle from the man as he nodded in agreement.

Standing up straight and turning to face you, the man stared at you from across the room in anticipation. You stared back, pulling a look of confusion. “What?”

“What’s next?” he shrugged. If he wasn’t Yoongi, you’d think he was being sassy about all the projects. But he was Yoongi, and you knew he was just genuinely asking if there was anything else he could do for you. He loved this shit. He loved being able to take care of you through these small acts of service. And therein was the true reason you never looked into tightening the towel rack yourself. Why would you want to rob him of the opportunity to look after you? And why would you want to rob yourself of the privilege of being looked after by him? You loved this shit too. And when he would eventually come over with a drain snake in hand, you’d greet him with a batch of cookies, just to further the bit, but also to say thank you.

“My closet door is squeaky,” you told him, feeling your chest warm up once again as he started toward your bedroom. As he walked by you, he stalled, holding out the bottle of drano.

“Can you put this back for me, Kid?” He asked, a gummy smile planted on his face as you nodded.

“Of course, Handyman Min,” you teased, taking the bottle. Before he walked away, however, he pressed his lips against your forehead gently, the touch lingering as he took his time. Your eyes fell closed at the touch, appreciating the feeling of his affection. When he pulled away, his body was shuffling down the hallway to your bedroom before you even opened your eyes.

Glancing after him, you watched as he disappeared into the room, and only then did you realize you were hugging the bottle of drano against your chest like a lovestruck idiot. Rolling your eyes at yourself, you dropped the product to your side and trudged toward the kitchen, however, stopping yourself when you got to the bedroom.

Leaning against your door frame, you watched as he inspected the door, opening and closing it to figure out where the squeaks were coming from. “Are you really not going to complain even once?” You suddenly questioned him, Yoongi’s attention snapping towards you. His eyes were wide, his mouth slightly ajar as he waited for you to elaborate.

“What’s there to complain about?” He simply asked in response, making you smile at him from across the room as you shook your head.

“Yoongi,” you said, as though the answer was obvious. Because it was. He had been stuck with household projects since he arrived at your place.

“The better question is, why haven’t you called me a grandpa even once?” He countered, a gummy smile curving on his lips as your grin widened into an amused beam.

“I held myself back!” You informed him. “I didn’t want to insult you as you were saving me and my entire apartment.”

“You’re so dramatic,” he spoke quietly through a breathy clicky chuckle. “I made my last grunt intentional just for you.”

Gasping, you then tsked at him, shaking your head. “You’re such a tease.” His shoulders shook in silent laughter as he looked back at the door and opened it a bit wider to hear the squeak one more time. “Do you really not mind all this?”

“What?” He asked, looking at you in genuine confusion for a moment. You nodded at the door and held up the bottle of drano to emphasize the meaning of your question. “No,” he shook his head, the answer simple and sincere. “It’s no big deal.”

“Ok,” you spoke quietly through a small smitten smile, nodding your head. “Good, because let’s be honest,” you started, Yoongi’s eyebrows lifting in curiosity and anticipation for a sassy or ridiculous comment. “I’m doing most of the work.” Yoongi’s eyebrows lifted even higher as he waited for your explanation. “Supervising is so hard,” you playfully whined, Yoongi instantly chuckling at you.

“It is, I believe you,” he flashed a feigned pout at you. Smiling at him, he returned the expression, a genuine moment of gratitude and care passing between the both of you. “My hardworking girl,” he whispered, breaking eye contact for a moment as he looked to the ground shyly, still wearing that smitten adoring gummy grin.

#yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi imagine #yoongi drabble #yoongi blurb #yoongi oneshot #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts drabbles #bts blurbs #bts oneshots #bts imagine #yoongi scenario #bts scenarios #bts reaction

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magneto-was-fucking-right · 2 months

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The Ghost Next Door - Chapter 6

Prompt: After suffering an almost lethal injury in combat, Simon "Ghost" Riley expected a dull, and uneventful leave back at his shitty apartment. His new next-door neighbor ruins his plans. Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader (named Riley Thomas for plot purposes)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 7

Disclaimer: slow burn; neighbor!Simon; semi-sexual content

Chapter Summary: In which Simon's neighbor gets drunk with his best friend and ends up, once again, on his couch.

Word Count: 3.1K

On a cold, rainy Friday night, Riley Thomas knocked on her neighbor’s door in sweatpants and a hoodie, a large pizza box from the restaurant down the street in hand. When Simon finally reached the door, the young woman slid inside quickly, sighing in relief at the comforting heat of his apartment.

“Why’d you take so long? The hallway is freezing!” She complained as a way of greeting, setting down the carton box on his table before rubbing her hands together.

“I took two minutes, you big baby.”

She rolled her eyes playfully.

“What’d you pick for tonight?” Riley asked curiously, peeking at his TV as she settled on the couch and quickly covered herself with their designated movie blanket.

“Mamma Mia.”

“Fuck off.” She stared at him in disbelief, a mocking grin slowly creeping about her cheeks. “Guilty pleasure?”

“One of many.”

She shook her head in amusement “You’re a man full of surprises, Simon.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” He chuckled.

A slow, tentative friendship had begun blooming between them over the weeks, as Riley found herself in her broody neighbor's company more often than not. Simon’s icy walls had started to crumble increasingly easier at the young woman’s terrible jokes, finding comfort in her amiable invitations for a movie night, a dog walk, or something as simple as a quiet talk while each of them did their laundry in the building’s basement.

Tonight was different for Riley, as it had been Simon’s idea for them to share the evening together, excitement bubbling in her stomach at their new found companionship. She spent her work days longing for their moments together, when she would come home to find he had prepared dinner and “accidentally” made enough to share, dropping by as soon as he heard her turn the key on her door. She noticed the recurrent acts of service with a soft, yearning heart when he took out his trash and offered to take hers as well, maintaining a neutral expression and shrugging awkwardly when she beamed at him and thanked him endlessly.

A few days before, when she had invited him over for a hot cup of tea and cake, Simon had ended up washing the dishes, despite her constant protests, appearing nonchalant as he claimed he was just checking for leaks in the fickle plumbing.

Despite growing closer, the pair still maintained a set of respectful boundaries that assured their mutual trust: as Simon filled each of them a glass of wine, placing them on the coffee table along with the pizza, Riley knew she shouldn’t look as he removed his usual black facemask to eat, keeping her eyes on the screen as she made occasional remarks about the movie.

“I can’t believe you like this.” She laughed as the dramatic musical unfolded, cheesy and cheerful songs filling the dimly lit flat. “Big old broody man enjoying Abba songs in a rom com.”

“It’s entertainin’.” He grunted as he grabbed another slice of pizza, trying to ignore how close they sat to each other under the blanket, her feet up and near his muscled thigh. Simon’s phone buzzed and he quickly grabbed it with his clean hand, reading the notification and stifling an affectionate smile.

He could almost feel how hard she tried not to stare, as well as ask about it, as she took another long sip of wine.

“Still interested in findin’ the pup an owner?” His deep voice made her snap her head at him on instinct, quickly looking away as she realized his face was still bare.

“Sorry.” She felt her cheeks heat, but Simon merely shrugged, eyes glinting as he put the mask back on. “Yes, I really can’t keep him trapped in such a small flat, let alone keep listening to Mrs. Parsons complain about the noise.”

“The old hag still botherin’ ya?”

“Every single day.” Riley sighed in defeat, running a nervous hand over her messy braid.

“My friend’s coming back from deployment in a few days. Might come visit and stay over to meet the dog, see how they get along.”

Riley felt her insides boil with something hot she tried hard to conceal. It wasn’t pleasant, and she felt ridiculous as she asked:

“Do you think she’ll be interested?” Her tone was almost casual enough that Simon didn’t pick up on her small trap. Almost.

“I think he is very interested.” He made sure to drag out the pronoun and noticed her flustered expression, even as she kept her eyes on the screen. “He’s always wanted one.”

The young woman nodded silently and hummed to the music as she took another bite of her slice.

“Why’d you take on rescues anyway?” He asked, killing the awkward silence between them.

“They were gonna be put down! I couldn’t just let them die! Can you imagine being sentenced to death just because of undesirable traits or features?”

“I can. It was called the Holocaust, love.”

“Simon!” She scoffed, smacking him on the arm.

He pretended it hurt, and she pretended he wasn’t funny.

***

Johnny MacTavish was a burly, five foot ten, crackling ball of energy that put any other force of nature to shame. With bright blue eyes, a questionable hairstyle and a barely understandable accent, the Scot appeared unaware of the existence of the very concept of shyness or social anxiety.

When Riley Thomas had opened her door on the next lazy Friday evening, in nothing but leggings and an oversized sweater, she found herself in the man’s bone crushing hug before she could even utter a simple “hello”.

“Christ…” She gasped, unable to process why, exactly, the stranger was so excited to see her, until she peeked over his shoulder and saw Simon leaning against the hallway, arms crossed as he rolled his eyes at the scene.

"There ya are lass" he cheerily put her down, and the young woman discreetly gasped for breath, laughing nervously at the unexpected display of affection. "I'm Johnny. I heard so much about ya."

"Did you?" She scowled at Simon "Unfortunately I can't say the same."

Simon's facemask covered his smirk.

"Aye, do not worry lass, I know Ghost can be an old grump"

Simon grunted in response and Riley quirked an eyebrow.

"Ghost?" She turned to Simon inquisitively, but he gave no signs of willingness to indulge her curiosity.

"Aye, it's his call sign becau-"

"Johnny" Simon warned firmly, and the Scot toned down a notch, nodding.

"Right...anyway lass, I thought we ought to invite ya to the pub with us tonight." His smile was so endearing she couldn't possibly refuse, despite looking down at her own clothes with a frown.

"I'm sorry, I had no idea you were coming today." She shrugged anxiously "I'd have to go get ready an-"

"That's alright! Wouldn’t want to steal yer night with him. We'll wait, won't we Simon?" He nudged the man with an elbow, his frame so much larger than Johnny's that it was almost comical.

Simon was silent for a moment, seemingly weighing the outcomes of what he was getting himself into, before looking her in the eyes and nodding once in approval.

“We wait.”

And that was how two hours later, the trio had ended up bumping shoulders at a packed bar in downtown Manchester, the two men always by her side. Riley glanced over her shoulder, amused by the view: it was like walking with a very intimidating Dobermann, alongside an overly excited and friendly golden retriever. Opposites in every possible way.

Simon wore his casual black face mask and hoodie, along with denim jeans, his blonde locks handsomely swept back, the only indication he had made an effort to look better than usual, other than the smell of his expensive cologne that Riley kept discreetly trying to get whiffs of. The young woman had opted for a pair of her best jeans, the ones that didn’t yet look too washed up and hugged her curves just right, along with a warm, modest top that didn’t reveal too much cleavage, covered by a faux leather jacket.

Simon quirked an eyebrow at her gaze, silently challenging her to say something, to which she giggled, flushing slightly as his hand lightly nudged her lower back to steer her into the right direction. The three of them ended up sitting on a corner booth, after venturing to the counter to fetch their drinks: for Simon, a bourbon, for Riley, a gin, and for Johnny, a massive pint of beer that would make him carry his weight in piss in half an hour.

“I gotta say, you’re a bonnie lass.” Johnny was slurring out by the time the fifth pint was half way gone. By then, Riley was feeling tipsy from her own alcohol, her cheeks flushed as she giggled at Johnny’s predicament.

“I’m gonna pretend I understood what you just said.” She lazily twirled the straw on her third drink, playing with the ice at the bottom of the glass.

Simon rolled his eyes, the bourbon barely warming up his blood, but there was a glint of affection in his eyes as he countered “Easy, McTavish.”

“Don’t lose yer wits, Simon, just trynna’ help you remember how to treat a lass.” He leaned forward, confiding in Riley “Did ya know he hasn’t gotten laid in-”

“Sergeant.” A low growl in warning as Riley pressed him on, curiously.

“Go on! Now I wanna know!”

“No ya don’t.” She could almost swear she saw him blush under that mask.

“I can’t count the months on me fingers, I’ll tell you that.” Johnny lifted his hands playfully, and Simon glared at him, a silent threat ever present as his dark eyes squinted at him.

Riley roared with laughter, her dimples more noticeable than ever.

“Months? Those are rookie numbers. I haven’t gotten laid in four years.” She drunkenly blurted out, and Simon stiffened by her side, as Johnny choked on his drink.

“What? How’s that possible?” The Scot coughed as the young woman shrugged, amused by his reaction.

“I don’t go out much.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t like people much.” She avoided his gaze shyly, downing the rest of her gin “Plus, I work a lot.”

“Ya’ two are a match made in heaven.” He pointed out, ignoring Simon’s scowl and her playful eye roll.

“Cheer up Simon Riley, yer best friend is back and ya have a lovely lady by your side.” The Scot taunted before downing the rest of his pint.

Riley Thomas halted, looking up at the broody man sitting by her side, eyes glassy and sleepy as her drunken mind tried to comprehend what she had just heard.

“Wait…Simon Riley? Your last name is Riley?” Simon sighed deeply before looking her over, grunting in agreement.

The young woman chuckled to herself, leaning her head playfully against his muscled arm.

“Why didn’t you tell me? That’s hilarious!” Simon stifled an amused smile as he pretended to dodge from her touch. “Do you realize…” She poked his chest with her pointer finger “Do you realize that if we ever got married I’d be called Riley Riley?”

“That’s exactly why.” Simon retorted, rolling his eyes for the millionth time since the beginning of the day, but he felt himself buzzing at her words, at the fact she had considered, even if just for a moment, even if just playfully…

For a moment, he found himself lost in her inebriated gaze. The droopy eyelids, the soft smile dotted by those damn dimples. The chipped tooth that always caught his attention, and the way she was leaning against his arm made something warm bubble in his stomach. She looked up at him so innocently, so curiously, that for a split second he almost forgot his best friend was right across the table.

“Get a room!” He taunted, almost breaking Simon’s usual stoic expression. “Save tha’ for later. Now we need shots!”

“You’re a sip away from death, mate. I’d call it a night.”

“But I haven’ even told her the Al Mazrah story!”

“And it’ll stay that way if ya want to live.” Simon threatened, and Riley perked up once again, eyes glimmering with humor.

“Tell me right now!”

“Imagine this, lass: scorching heat of the Middle East…”

“Soap.”

“A food poisoned Simon on a sniper recon mission, no toilets in sight-”

“I’ll smack ya so hard I’ll turn that mohawk into a fade.”

The young woman had tears rolling down her cheeks as she roared with laughter, picturing the situation so clearly she was out of breath.

“Away n’bile yer heid!” Johnny retorted at Simon’s threat.

“English, Mctavish.”

“Sorry L.T. Let me translate… “Go fuck yourself.”

“Much better.”

***

It must have been four in the morning when Riley Thomas felt herself being carefully placed on a familiar couch, strong arms under her back and legs. She felt so dizzy she knew it would be over if she so much as lifted her head, opting to remain still as Simon’s comforting scent temporarily disappeared. She could hear him guide a stumbling, barely conscious Johnny into his bed, not trusting the intoxicated man to sleep properly on his couch.

When he finally returned, seemingly the only semi-sober one of the bunch, he once again reached down to carry her to her own flat in his arms, halting once he saw her open her sleepy eyes. Simon felt himself stiffen as she wrapped her arms around his neck clumsily, inhaling his neck deeply.

“You smell so good, Simon.” She slurred out, tone soft in his quiet, barely lit living room. He couldn’t move, unsure of how to react to the sudden affectionate touch, hands holding his weight on the couch.

“You need to sleep, love.” He muttered gently through his face mask, giving her shoulder blades a quick rub through her jacket and hoping she would free him from the awkward position.

“I’m fine.” She nuzzled further into the curve of his neck and he shivered, feeling the smell of her own perfume, mixed with alcohol and sweat.

“Riley…”

“Simon.” She let go of his neck, but forced him to sit down next to her, barely making out his face through the dim lighting and her blurred vision. “I…”

“Shhh. You’re sloshed.”

“I know, but I’m okay, I promise.”

“Let me get ya to your bed, yeah? Where are your keys?”

She had never heard him speak so softly, in such a caring, gentle way. Her heart was beating furiously, as deep, joyful warmth spread through her stomach when she looked at him. At his half covered face, dark eyes framed by blonde lashes that she found so endearing.

She silently moved closer, reaching over his lap and turning off the only source of light from a small table lamp. She heard him release a shuddering breath, his large hands gripping the couch for dear life. Riley placed a cautious hand on his shoulder in the dark, to guide herself into slowly straddling his muscled thighs, careful enough to sit closer to his knees, instead of his groin.

Simon Riley’s heart thudded so hard against his chest he was surprised she couldn’t hear it, his body frozen into place, nervously awaiting her next move.

Riley’s trembling hands reached up ever so slowly, fingertips trailing a curious path over his soft blonde locks, down to the crease on his forehead, the perfect arch of his eyebrows, all the way to his strong nose, where her finger locked in the black mask. Unmoving and barely visible, she was unsure of his reaction, as she slowly began pulling it down.

“Do you mind?” She whispered, so close their breaths mingled.

“Hm.” Was all he could mutter, but one of his hands gently gripped her hip, steadying her in his lap. His thumb circled the small patch of exposed skin on her waist, where the top almost met the jeans.

She continued her ministrations leisurely, giving him enough time to stop her if he wished. But he didn’t, and her finger pulled his mask all the way down to under his chin, where she felt the stubble. Riley could barely breathe, doing her best to contain her excitement as her cold fingers trailed his face in the dark.

She felt the contour of his lips, slightly chapped as her thumb parted them tentatively. The raise of a scar, that seemed to have been carved all the way to the jaw, where she rubbed slow, careful circles lovingly. She felt his trembling breath on her flushed skin, the sounds of her faux leather jacket as she moved about, the only noise in the room.

Riley placed a tender kiss on his cheek, feeling embarrassed as she felt the warmth that immediately soaked her underwear once her skin came in contact with his. The mixture of alcohol and desire in her blood seemed to burn, making her ache with longing as she kissed his nose, his forehead, and then his other cheek, until she was trailing his strong jaw, the stubble tickling her lips.

“Riley…” He muttered, their mouths so close she could almost drink in his words.

“Please.” She begged in a silent whisper, joining her forehead to his, hands cupping his face tenderly.

His other hand held an iron grip on the couch, not letting up.

“You’re drunk.” He whispered back, teetering on the edge of self-control.

“I need you.” She replied, her lips ghosting his in the dark, skin almost grazing. She began moving her hips lower towards his groin, but although Simon had held his breath at the confession, his heart hammering in his chest, he finally gripped both of her hips firmly, keeping her away from the raging boner she would have found.

“I can’t, love.” He murmured softly, hoping she would understand.

“Please Simon.” She clumsily tried to fight off his grip, eager to press her aching body to his. “I need you so bad.”

Simon bit his lip so hard he was surprised he wasn’t bleeding as he did his best to keep his fraying sanity through her tender pleas.

He knew he was done for if he felt the softness of her lips, her wet tongue and the grind of her hips against his rock-hard shaft.

“Don’t do this to me, love.”

“I’m so wet.” She admitted, and he felt the crease of her frustrated frown against his own, words coated with need and shame. He sighed deeply, his bruising grip on her hips tempting him to just pull her into him. He could feel himself pulse in his briefs, so painfully hard.

“Four years is a long time.” He grunted softly.

“I know.” She practically whimpered.

“You’re very drunk, love. You can barely stand upright.”

“But-”

“Riley.” She stilled at his commanding tone. “I’m taking you to bed. We’ll talk tomorrow once you’ve rested up, yeah?”

Her shoulders slouched in defeat, the rejection still stinging as she placed another kiss to his cheek before muttering:

“Okay.”

A/N: I'm back! And I managed to bring my work laptop home, which (hopefully) means quicker updates! :) Once again thank you to everyone reading and keep that feedback coming - seriously, it keeps me going. The slow burn is finally burning and the next chapters are gonna be spicy.

TAG LIST (I hope I haven't forgotten anyone)

@xaestheticalien @bossva @missmae3004 @yyiikes @lillysfrogsandbogs @missmae3004 @spicyspicyliving @shuttlelauncher81 @generaldestinychild @semendreaminsblog @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @iloveghost900

#ghost cod #ghostxreader #ghost imagine #cod #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #ghost smut #modernwarfare2 #neighbor!ghost #TGND

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hometoursandotherstuff · 2 months

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Even though this 1983 home in Nashville, Tennessee is overpriced, I chose it b/c you have to see the elevator. 3bds, 3ba, $2.25M. (What is that thing on the roof? It looks like a planter or some of sort of sign.)

It's a nice house, though, and has some unique features.

It's different. Sort of like modern rustic.

Nice sun room for everyday dining.

Plus, a small sitting area and counter outside the kitchen.

I like the green kitchen and it has a convenient door to the deck for outdoor dining.

Surprised that they don't have a table out here.

Beautiful guest powder room.

Nice space to entertain with access to the patio, plus a bar.

Behind the bar is a kitchenette, too.

The primary bedroom is very large, has a great fireplace and doors to a deck.

The en-suite is beautiful with stone tiles, gold accents and brown matching plumbing fixtures.

A classy sunken office has a fireplace and access to a deck.

Bath #2 is so pretty.

Rec room on the lower level.

Here's the elevator, down in the pool room. I like that it's open.

But, look at the top. How cute is that?

When it goes down, it looks like a monkey statue on a platform.

A footbridge leads from the house, over the pool, to a series of pavilions.

This is lovely.

Next to the pool is a tennis court.

1.17 acres.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/87-Valley-Frg-Nashville-TN-37205/41141030_zpid/

#contemporary homes #houses #house tours #home tour

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urhoneycombwitch · 1 month

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Heyyy! Just a quick little request that has been TAKING over my mind. GN!Reader that LOVESSSSS photography x Rockstar!eddie. LIKE Reader will be taking photos of him whenever because he’s just so goddamn pretty playing his guitar. And Eddie will snatch film and shit for them. I’d like to think that they both have Polaroid pictures of each other. Bonus points if reader doesn’t like taking pictures of themselves but LOVES taking pictures of Eddie. I DONT KNOW I JUST THINKS ITS CUTE AHHHHH. if it’s fluff, smut, whatever, you do you! :D Byeeeeeeeee

as a film photographer myself i feel uniquely qualified to add to this tysm anon 💖

gn!reader, +18 mdni

Eddie absolutely gets you the good shit. he makes it a habit to visit the local camera stores at every city when he’s on the road, shells out for high-quality film cuz you taught him right and he actually listens when you talk about your interests!!

constantly surprising you with new gear. he’s never had money like this before and the fact that he can actually buy his partner things is so fucking thrilling. if his baby wants a vintage Rolleiflex with Planar lens that’s what’s getting boxed up for ‘em.

once you and Eddie settle on a house, he sets up a whole darkroom on the lower floor- lets you pick out all the details, hires a plumbing guy to hook up water so that you can do your own film baths. Jonathan Byers is equal parts green with envy and grateful that you’re willing to share the space w/him whenever he comes out for a visit 😇

before you, Eddie never really liked his picture taken, tolerated the ordeal at best- Wayne showed you an old photo book one time, groused about his nephew making odd faces and being squirmy in front of the lens even as young as 4 years old. you’ve made up for it a hundred times over, tho- Eddie learned quick that you wouldn’t take no for an answer when it came to your new muse.

you’ve got probably over a thousand pictures of him by now, in different states across the country, some on stage in full makeup shredding on guitar, a few that are widely recognized as Corroded’s album covers- but most are quiet, intimate. there’s this one you keep in your wallet, makes your heart flutter every time: Eddie leaned back in the grass on his elbows, soft sunlight filtered through the magnolia tree in your backyard, eyes crinkled at the corners and fixed on you behind the camera.

he’s got a bunch of you, too, of course- mostly Polaroids that are decidedly not for public eye. keeps those like a true gentleman safe in a shoebox under your bed at home: images burned into his brain by this point to take with him in memory while on the road. the soft shape of your thigh against a downy duvet, gleaming pearlescent with his cum. another of his hand wrapped around your throat, rings digging into gentle flesh under the blissed-out smile of your mouth that makes him ache somethin’ fierce just thinking about it.

there are others that he does keep in his wallet, more tame but just as searingly intimate, ones he’s taken after cajoling you in front of the lens or having won a tussle over whose turn it was to shoot whom. one of you with guitar cables looped neatly around either arm after a gig, nose crunched and mouth halfway to telling him off, irritation and fondness captured in bright flash. another of you stretched out in the front yard, one hand at your forehead to block the afternoon sun, the other resting placid on your stomach as you looked up at him.

“This one’s mine,” Eddie always says when asked about you, showing off the latest picture with a deep well of love and pride. he may as well start carrying an album for all the photos he carries of you.

#lu’s anons #e.m. thots from lu #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #rockstar!Eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie x photographer!reader #Eddie x photographer!reader

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uhdrienne · 2 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

03. broadcast?

🌼feat: wonwoo x reader (written and smau), fluff, angst, hometown chachacha!inspired

🌼summary: going back to the countryside where you grew up was at the bottom of your list. unexpectedly, your life changes course, and you eventually find your home in weekly village cleaning, the sound of the waves, and with the local jack-of-all-trades, jeon wonwoo.

🌼word count: 2,297 words

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"So you're moving in?" Wonwoo asks as you finish up your fifth phone call of the day.

"Guess so," you shrug as you tuck your phone back into your pocket. "I got a moving company to help me with my stuff. Not everything, since I'll be going back in a few months."

He nods thoughtfully. "And you'll need a place to stay, I'm guessing."

You look at him. "I'm not staying with you. Don't try that."

"Calm down, Miss Doctor. I'm not ever offering my place up. You'll need to pay rent for that anyway. I can arrange a meeting with a landlord for you if you need it."

"How do I know I can trust you?" You narrow your eyes.

"I know everyone in this town." Wonwoo replies without missing a beat, in the tone that grates on your nerves. "What's it going to be? I'm a busy man."

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Miss Kim is nice. Probably the nicest person in the town ever.

She drafts up a contract swiftly right in the local bookshop after your discussion about your housing arrangement with the help of Wonwoo, who serves as your middleman. She also starts talking about a small clinic space for you.

"So just pay the stipulated monthly rent in the duration of the last week of every month and you're good." Miss Kim summarises after you've both signed the handwritten contract.

"Alright," you say.

Miss Kim smiles. "It's been a while since we've had any newcomers in the town. You're going to have a good time."

"I doubt that," you reply quietly, but Miss Kim waves you off.

"Wonwoo," she turns to the man sitting next to you. "I'll leave the renovating to you and the boys? Not sure about the plumbing situation, but-"

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

"No worries," Wonwoo reassures the middle-aged woman, a warm smile on his face. "Shua and Kwan are pretty free around this time. We'll handle it. And it's for a clinic, that's important. We'll sort that out too."

"Oh, you angel," the woman sighs happily. "Well, that's one load off. Y/N, dear, I'll see you soon when you move in. No need to worry about anything. Wonwoo, Joshua, and Seungkwan will handle it for you. Goodness, I've never seen boys who work better with wrenches than they do!"

She gets to her feet, and by default both you and Wonwoo stand up too. "I have to head off," she adds ruefully. "My- Mr Woo, I mean, needs someone to collect the trash bags again."

You bow as she leaves, and spin towards Wonwoo. "You do renovation?"

"Reno, plumbing, painting, wallpaper installation, carpenting, whatever makes up a house." He smirks. "Do you need my services, Miss Doctor?"

"I'm not trusting you with my house."

He rolls his eyes and groans. "Not this again."

"It's serious!" You retort. "I want to stay in a nice place for the 3 months I'm here-"

The flap of a booklet cuts you off.

Wonwoo has opened a whole damn book of certifications. Encased in transparent pockets, they tumble down, showcasing their sheer number in all its glory. And they reflect exactly what he says, you note as you scan down the list. He has government-issued licenses for renovation, as an estate agent, plumbing, wallpaper, carpenting, and no way... he's a licensed barista? A certified mechanic??

"Not so anxious anymore?" Wonwoo chuckles as he looks at your dumbfounded expression. "You-"

"Come on," he says, slinging his backpack across his shoulder. "You should go home, it's getting late. Come back soon so you can take a look at the house and the clinic plot."

He fishes out his phone. "What's your number?" After you give it to him reluctantly, he lifts a hand in goodbye as he strides out of the shop, leaving you.

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"You're moving?!"

"Why ae you so surprised?"

"You're a city girl through and through, YN LN," your friend announces. "You whine when you have to take the stairs instead of a lift in the mall. There is no way you're upping and leaving to a place where they don't even take cards."

"I asked this guy to get them fixed," you shrug. "And it's just for three months, I'm not staying forever."

"I know you just have to do something rash when you see kids in need, YN," your friend sighs. "The time when you decided to donate half your first paycheck to feed underprivileged kids? Or the time when you organised a sale in twelve hours during college to fund medicine supply for-"

"Okay, shut up!" You turn to your friend, flustered, who's laughing unabashedly now. "The kids in that town don't have a clinic. The adults and grandparents don't either. And t's a private establishment, so I'll earn a lot of money while I'm there. There's a Louis Vuitton bag I've been eyeing."

Your friend laughs again, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Sure. Whatever you say."

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"Hi. I'm Joshua, everyone calls me Shua. And that's Seungkwan over there."

The two good natured men smile at you and you bow back stiffly. Beside them, Wonwoo is pacing the area that is soon to be your house, tape measure in hand.

"Hello."

"So, our newest addition!" Seungkwan smiles. "We're trying to plan your interior deco, what are you thinking of?"

"Fabric wallpaper," you reply immediately. "In taupe or grey. I'm thinking beige furniture, gives it a minimalist vibe?"

Seungkwan opens his mouth, presumably to suggest something else, but Joshua cuts in smoothly, smiling at you. "No problem. It's great that you know what you want."

At last, finally someone who gets you. "Thanks," you say stiffly, letting out a tight smile.

Wonwoo seems to be done with the measurements, as he keeps his tape measure. "Shua, Kwan, I'll take Miss Doctor to see the clinic plot. Be back soon."

"Okay!"

Wonwoo beckons to you. "Come on then."

A swift ten minutes later, you're standing in the middle of the clinic space.

"This could be the observation room," you mutter to yourself. "Or the office."

You deem the place good enough to move into. Plenty of natural light, a spacious front room, and a few more rooms at the back for observation rooms and your own office.

"Send me what you want for the wallpaper and all that," Wonwoo says, as you both leave the place and he gets ready to head back to your future house. "And it's minimum wage per hour for all three of us. We take bank transfers."

"What?"

Wonwoo smirks. "This isn't the city, but we don't work for free. I'll send you the details, you can just pay us when we're finished."

You gape at him. "I- of course I'm going to pay you! Who do you think I am, a leech?"

He shrugs. "Whatever you say. Anyway, I'll contact you when we're done, but the office might take a while more. Bye."

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Dear Miss YN LN,

Thank you for your letter regarding your placement at the pediatrics unit here at Seoul University Hospital. Unfortunately, we cannot make the necessary re-arrangements as the other doctor mentioned has already started his five-year term with us. As we are in the process of preparing for the start of your contract, you were given the three months delay before you begin work.

Do advise us on what we can do to improve the situation as we hope to provide you with a positive working experience. We look forward to your reply.

Warmest Regards

Seoul University Hospital

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Three Weeks Later

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"Looks okay."

"Just 'okay'?" Wonwoo scoffs. "Shua spent all weekend putting up that fancy wallpaper you wanted."

"I thought you could deliver whatever your clients wanted," You hiss. Delia's eyes flick between both of you, seemingly in amusement.

"Thanks, Chief Jeon. YN's a little picky, but the place looks great!" She interrupts, and you shoot her a glare.

"No worries, Miss..?" Wonwoo smiles at her.

"Just call me Delia! YN, you stay here. I'm going to check the town out, yeah?" And before you can respond, she's out of the newly renovated house.

"She knows you," Wonwoo points out, reaching down to pick his haversack up. "You're prickly and bad-tempered, and-"

"Don't finish that."

He chuckles, fixing his belt. "Anyway, Seungkwan wanted me to pass you a message. The villagers heard we have a doctor staying here for a while, so they want to invite you to a village dinner tonight. Come if you're free, and take the chance to know them better, would you?"

"I'm not interested."

"Oh, come on! You can promote your clinic at the same time, no? Those things are usually pretty fun."

You perk up slightly and he notices. He lets out a laugh. "See you there. Bring your friend if you want to so you're not alone."

Unfortunately, Delia isn't free, what with her taking the night shift at her nursing job in a Seoul hospital. She leaves with the promise to call you when she's free to chat, and you head to the location on your own.

You bow stiffly to the three grandmas who taught you how to handle squid as they pass you, and they chuckle and pat your hand. Cringing at the feeling of old, wrinkled hands on you but saying nothing, you head towards a familiar face.

"Oh YN! Didn't think I'd see you here!" Joshua remarks cheerfully, holding tongs and standing over a portable grill sizzling with seafood. "Here, I'll grab you a plate. These prawns came in fresh, so you get first dibs off the grill!"

"YN! Over here!" Seungkwan's voice catches your attention, and you turn to see him waving you in the direction of his table. Next to him, playing with a young girl, is the chief you least want to see.

Joshua lets out a hearty laugh as he passes you a plate, laden with seafood and meat and rice. "Eat up. Stay with Seungkwan if you're a little awkward, he'll keep the conversation flowing."

You thank him a little quietly before making your way to the table. As you settle, a middle-aged man reaches to shake your hand.

"Mr Woo," He says, a little gruffly but still pleasantly. "I work in the village bank."

"Bank...?" You ask. "I didn't see one when I-" You stop yourself before the embarrassing story of you trying to retrieve your pride pours out.

"Oh! It's a small one, near the convenience store. It's quite secluded so you probably didn't catch it." Mr Woo doesn't seem fazed as he explains. Seungkwan throws his head back and laughs, "I had a hell of a time trying to find it when it was first built!"

The conversation starts and you try to listen, but it's just not the same. You're only used to chats about tough medical cases and patients, never about the day's currents, the catches from the sea, and the trash collection on Saturday mornings. You only pretend to be distracted when you see the chatterbox Miss Hwang arrive. You don't really want another debate with her.

Luckily, Delia's call when the clock approaches 9 gives you a mild reprieve. You excuse yourself and close the door to the small room at the back. It looks like the broadcast room, with a small mic there. You swipe accept on Delia's call.

"Hey, girl!" her voice rings across the line. "How's the dinner?"

"Awful," You sigh as you ean against the mic shelf. "I haven't mentioned my clinic once, and all they talk about is the day's fish!"

"Don't be such a grump," Delia teases. "That's a nice topic, you know. Life there seems so idyllic, I'd so take that over this any day."

"No you don't," You reply tiredly. "They're all so simple -- too simple it's aggravating. The chatterbox lady insisted on playing the strangest music earlier, and I wish I hadn't said I was staying here, now I have to put up and pretend I'm interested in their way of life!"

"You might like it there. The people seem pretty nice," Delia persists. Fortunately, her nagging is cut short by a call of her name, presumably from another nurse. "Shoot. I gotta go."

"Go on," you mutter. "I'll find an excuse to leave soon or something."

With a goodbye the call ends, and you mentally prep yourself to head out again.

But when you leave, you don't hear the excited hum of chatter among the villagers. Not the weird trot music Miss Hwang insisted on playing. Save for the sizzle of the grill, the whole space is silent. Every single villager's eyes follow you. Even Miss Hwang has fallen silent for once, pupils dilated in seemingly shock.

You swallow. "What?"

You turn in Seungkwan's direction. Joshua's. And Wonwoo's. The other two men aren't meeting your gaze at all, but Wonwoo is looking up and directly at you. His eyes don't have the same spark they did when you saw him earlier. They've hardened in anger and disappointment, and his jaw has tightened considerably. Joshua's deliberately looking everywhere else except for in your direction, and Mr Woo's pretending to pick at nonexistent fuzz on his clothes. Seungkwan can't even meet your eye.

You're stuck in momentary confusion until it hits you in a wave of shock and panic. The mic. The mic in the room must have been turned on the whole damn time. Your words had been broadcasted for everyone there to hear.

Your face and ears burn red, and you stride over to the table, as quickly as your shaky legs can handle, grab your bag and leave. No one follows you or tries to stop you to explain yourself.

You've stunned the whole town into silence.

───✱.｡:｡✱.:｡✧.｡✰──────✱

oh noooooo

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wonwoo x reader (smau, written)

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