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gaypiece · 2 months

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Trafalgar Law + going down on you for the first time

☁︎ it’s 2am and i have earworms for law giving head 🫣 this is my first smut so i apologize in advance if it’s bad

☁︎ pairing: Law x afab!reader

☁︎ word count: 2.3k im sorry

☁︎ cw: 18+ mdni, shy reader, oral (fem receiving), surprisingly experienced law, law is a cocky teasing bastard, afab!reader, gender not specified but contains use of slightly gendered pet names, no plot, all smut

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

The topic of experience had never come up between the two of you. You were shy, but still had been with a few people before. You thought from Law’s temperament of being cold and distant that he might be a virgin, but you also knew how sex-crazed boys tended to be during puberty. You wondered occasionally if he had messed around at that age, or ever, but were too shy to inquire about it. Needless to say, you weren’t sure what to expect when your relationship with Law turned physical.

It was a quiet, uneventful day. You laid with Law in his bed that night, holding each other, enjoying each other’s company. It began with playful kisses along his collarbones, your fingers lightly tracing the lines of ink on his shoulders and chest, exposed by the wife beater he wore. He hummed in appreciation before lifting your chin to kiss you fully on the mouth. It was a gentle kiss, the tip of his tongue lightly tracing your bottom lip as his hands navigated familiar territory, trailing over your waist and hips. He seemed to grow hungrier, biting at your lips, squeezing at your already bare thighs, until he had you beneath him. Your legs wrapped around him as he ground into you, both of you letting out breathy sighs. His mouth found your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat before nipping at the tender skin beneath the edge of your jaw, making you gasp softly. You and Law had made out before, but this time was so much more intense, and you could feel how hard he was, pressing against you.

Still, it took you by surprise when he murmured against your jaw between kisses, “Can I touch you?”

Immediately, you turned bashful. “Do you. . . want. . . to?”

Law loosed a breathy chuckle, the warm air tickling your neck. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to.” His hand squeezed your hip.

”Y-yeah, you can.” Your voice shook with your nerves. “After, I can take care of you if you w-“

He cut you off with a kiss, his tongue greedily invading your mouth, causing you to whimper. He pulled back to murmur, “Don’t worry about me, doll,” placing another kiss against your jaw. He then brought his lips right to your ear, close enough that they brushed against it as he breathed, “Right now, I’d love nothing more than to eat that pretty pussy until you’re cumming on my face.” The feeling of his breath on your neck, on your ear, gave you goosebumps, your already flushed face burning hotter at his filthy words. It was then that you realized that Law knew exactly what he was doing.

Your body reacted instinctively. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, your legs tightening around his waist at the thought of his head being between them. He responded by grinding into you again, his teeth tugging at your earlobe. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped you.

His mouth returned to yours, somehow even more eager. Cold hands slipped beneath your shirt, trailing over your curves, lightly gripping at your soft skin. One hand slipped beneath you, fingers gently following the line of your spine. His other hand roamed higher, until it cupped your breast. Long fingers massaged the supple flesh for a moment before finding the sensitive bud of your nipple, pinching and tugging teasingly.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to be irked with his teasing. You relished every touch he gave you, becoming putty in his hands, just as he intended. Still, your hands wandered over him, just as greedily as his. You gave a slight tug at the shirt that still clung to his chest. He hummed against your lips, understanding what you wanted.

He sat up, kneeling between your legs. You watched in fascination as he removed the tank top, revealing the toned planes of his abdomen. The black ink across his chest was stark against his tan skin. As your eyes wandered further upward, you noticed the sexy, cocky smirk that he gave you as you admired his body. His raven hair was disheveled from your hands running through the thick locks. He mimicked the motion now, golden eyes admiring you back as the matching ink of his fingers combed through the mop. The action mussed his hair even more, and you were taken aback by how breathtakingly gorgeous the man above you was.

”Like what you see?” he teased.

You couldn’t deny it, nor did you feel bold enough to tease back. All you could do was give him a sheepish nod, teeth digging into your lip.

”Me, too.” It was true. He enjoyed seeing you this way, cheeks flushed, lips puffy, pupils blown wide with lust. He had never seen anything more beautiful.

He leaned down to kiss you again, now slow and deep. His hands went to your sides, continuing to ease your shirt upward. The kiss broke momentarily as he pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you in nothing but your panties. You felt the shyness return, being so exposed to him. You didn’t give him a chance to look, grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him down to you for another eager kiss the moment your shirt left his hands.

The feeling of your bare chests touching sent a thrill through you, and your grip on him tightened. Fingers twisted into the hair at the back of Law’s head, you gave a gentle tug. You didn’t expect the low groan that spilled from his mouth to yours. Hearing that, you decided that you were definitely going to return his favor, even if it wasn’t tonight.

His mouth returned to your neck, biting at sensitive muscle and making you gasp. Your gasp turned into a whimper as his tongue eased over the bite. Slowly, he made his way down your neck, trailing kisses in his wake, along with the occasional nip. You couldn’t help but get lost in the feeling of him, admiring the way his lips and breath felt against your skin, the scrape of his teeth, the slight tickle of his goatee. This was bliss.

Law took his time making his way down your body. He seemed to be enjoying you as much as you did him, muttering sweet praises in between kisses. “So pretty. . . so perfect. . .” You were a desperate, whimpering mess by the time his lips found your lower abdomen. He bit down harshly just below your belly button, making you cry out, and surely leaving a mark. He pulled back momentarily to admire his work. When his eyes flicked up to your face, you didn’t miss the smugness in them as he pressed a soothing kiss to the sore spot left by his teeth. His gaze didn’t leave yours as he traveled even lower to mouth over your panties.

You didn’t expect your hips to buck up at the sudden contact. Law, however, simply chuckled at your reaction, “So needy.” By this point, you had had just about enough of his teasing. You threw your arms over your face, letting out a distressed groan.

”Hey, don’t hide from me,” he chided. He reached up to uncover your face, and you yielded, allowing him to move your arms. The smug smile he wore widened as he looked at you. “Are you pouting?”

You hadn’t realized you were. “No,” you denied, abashed. Your pout deepened, along with the flush on your cheeks as you turned away from him.

”You are,” he grinned. He repositioned himself so that your faces were level once more. He placed his hand under your chin, turning your face to look at him. You glowered. “You’re so fuckin’ cute,” he chuckled, capturing your mouth with his before you could argue. As he kissed you, he sucked softly on your pouted bottom lip, immediately making you melt. He always knew the right buttons to push in order to get you exactly where he wanted you. His lips parted from yours just a fraction so he could murmur, “Don’t worry, baby. I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?” Before you could respond, he was kissing you again. You hummed a “yes” against his lips, though it came out sounding like a whimper. “Good,” he praised, giving you another swift peck before reverting his attention to your lower half.

Law didn’t waste another second before removing your panties, leaving you fully exposed. He kissed along your inner thighs, still teasing just a little. You tensed in anticipation when his fingers carefully parted your labia.

His tongue licked a slow line, starting at your entrance, all the way to your clit. There, his tongue swirled around the bundle of nerves before closing his mouth over it with a tender suck.

”Ohh. Fuck,” you breathed, gripping at the sheets.

You whimpered as he hummed against you, sending vibrations through your core. “Delicious,” he mumbled, kissing your clit.

He continued this slow process of gentle licking and sucking, making you whimper and moan. You could swear that his mouth was magical, working over you so well. Combined with the sensation of his goatee brushing against you and his breath between your legs, you were in absolute heaven. Even better, you could tell that Law was enjoying this almost as much as you were. He put so much care into every little gesture, even in the way he gripped your hips and thighs. As you thought about it, the idea of Law enjoying you, enjoying pleasing you, it sent fire through your veins. Your hand found its way into his hair, making him hum against you once more.

Again, your hips bucked of their own accord, and his grip on them tightened. “Stay still for me, princess.”

You bit back a whine, clutching at the sheets and Law’s hair as he continued to slide his tongue over your clit. “I’m close,” you whimpered. One of his hands left your hip, and you didn’t have time to process what that meant before you felt two of his long fingers enter you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. He timed the pace of his fingers to match that of his mouth, and it was almost enough to push you to your release. You stayed on the brink until he gave a slightly rougher suck to your clit, partnered with his fingers curling inside you. That was what finally made stars explode behind your eyes.

”Law!” you cried out. “I’m cumming. . .!”

He groaned into you, though you more felt it than heard it, struggling to control your own volume. He kept the same pace as he worked you through your orgasm, but continued even as you came down from the high. Both of your hands were now buried in his hair, weakly clutching at him. His hand that remained on your hip gave you a rub and a squeeze before reaching around your leg to brace his forearm across both of your hips. You didn’t understand why until his mouth and fingers quickened in pace. Sensitive in the afterglow of your orgasm, you couldn’t control the sounds that escaped you, nor the way your body squirmed and writhed with pleasure. His tongue now flicked over your clit repeatedly, relentlessly. His fingers were now knuckle deep in you, curled to continuously stroke that sensitive spot deep within you. He continued in this manner, persisting until another wave of pure bliss washed over you.

”Fuck, Law!” you nearly screamed. “Oh, gods.”

He slowed as he worked you through this orgasm, easing you down from the high. When he finally parted from you, a shiver ran through your body as you tried to catch your breath. You looked at him through lidded eyes. He gazed back with a smug smile, seeming to enjoy the blissed-out look on your face. Eyes locked on yours, he lifted his hand, still glistening with your arousal, and brought it to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean.

”Gods, you’re sexy,” you breathed. You reached a weak hand out to him. “C’mere.” He obeyed, moving to hover over you as he had before. You cupped his cheek, pulling him in for a sweet kiss. “You’re amazing,” you muttered against his lips. You could taste yourself on him. It was so erotic that, if you hadn’t been so spent, you probably would have taken care of him in return anyway. You told him as much, making him chuckle.

”I told you not to worry about me,” he chided, adding, “I did only intend to get you off the one time, but hearing you moan my name like that. . .” He shook his head. “I just had to hear it again.” The flush that had just started to fade returned as you turned away from him. “Oh, don’t be shy now,” he teased, grabbing your chin. “You were making such pretty noises for me.” He brought his lips right to your ear again. “Makes me wonder how pretty you sound while you’re being fucked.”

You grew more flustered with each word he spoke, your face turning redder. “Okay, time for bed!” you announced, pushing him off of you so you could find your clothes. He let out a low chuckle, allowing you to move him to the side. As you put your clothes back on, Law left the room, returning moments later with his face clean, glass of water in hand. He offered it to you, and you took it gratefully, your mouth dry from all of the heavy breathing you just experienced. He took the cup back once you drained it, setting it aside to guide you back to bed. You were so thoroughly worn out that it took only moments for you to fall asleep.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

#one piece #trafalgar law cute #trafalgar law #trafalgar law op #trafalgar d water law #op #trafalgar law one piece #trafalgar d law #trafalgar law fic #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law fanfiction #traflagar law #trafalgar law x reader

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talesofely · 4 months

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Save My Tears (2)

A Sequel (Part 2) to The (Wo)Man Who Can't Be Moved. (Part 1)

Pairings : Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Summary : Natasha's your ex-girlfriend, she broke up with you without giving you a solid reason as to why. Obviously, you want her back. One problem, she's unofficially dating Bucky Barnes. So you decided to solve it with a little performance.

Warnings : Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending (or is it?😏), swearing, one line used 'her' as reader's pronouns, pls tell me if u see anything else

Word Count : 2.1k

Note : here's pt2 ! pls let my family go now :c

Natasha.

Natasha didn't want to attend tonight's party. 'Cause the last party she went to was with you. The last party she went to, she was clinging onto your arm. The last party she went to, she slept in your arms.

Unlike you, who always asked if you could be her date for the night, Bucky asked her to be his date for tonight. Normally Natasha wouldn't notice those miniscule things, but it was just so different from you.

Unlike you, who always insisted on picking her up from her room, Bucky just waited for her at the elevator.

Bucky brought her a bouquet of roses when they met at the elevator! You never bought her a bouquet of real roses... cause you always gave her paper ones, ones you knew she would appreciate more since they don't wither.

Bucky asked how he looked and said that Natasha looked perfect to be his date. You always told her she looked amazing, and joked about not looking good enough to be her date.

Bucky bought her a drink and a stronger drink for himself, like a gentleman. You always got the lesser alcoholic ones since you wanted to stay sober enough to take care of her in case she gets drunk.

She hated comparing him to you. But she couldn't help it. His arms just don't compare to yours.

She shook her head to clear away any thoughts about you, wanting to focus on her night with Bucky. She subconsciously searched the crowds for you, but she couldn't find that y/h/c hair that she could always find in the midst of the crowds.

Bucky asked her to dance. They stood in the middle of the makeshift dancefloor. Everyone's eyes were on them, she didn't like it. You always knew she felt uncomfortable being the center of attention. Bucky seemed to like it, though.

She saw how Bucky signaled Steve to sing. Mouthing a song title she wasn't able to read. Steve seemed skeptical at first, but the questioning look from Bucky caused him to concede and sing the song.

When 'Wonderful Tonight' started playing, Natasha's eyes winded. It was your song. The song you always sang to her. The song you two danced together. She's dancing it again, just not with you.

She tried her best to smile, and tried her best to not imagine you as she danced with Bucky.

She remembered how you used to sing the song in her ear as you two slowly danced around the kitchen, at 2am, using the refrigerator light as light, whenever she had nightmares.

"Oh, my darling, you were wonderful tonight" You—Bucky—whispered in her ear as the song came to an end. You—Bucky—kissed her forehead as you two pulled away.

She was going to excuse herself to the bathroom to clear out her thoughts when the next singer caught her attention.

It was you.

I saw you dancing in a crowded room

You look so happy when I'm not with you

You looked so breathtaking, she thought. Oh how she would've loved to arrive and leave with her in your arms. But she couldn't. She was in Bucky's arms.

"Hey, everyone. I hope y'all are having an amazing night. I do hope you enjoy these songs I'm about to play." You said as you clicked the instrumental version of the song you chose, on the tablet.

She couldn't deny how much she missed your voice. How much she longs to hear that voice say those 8 letters she used to hear everyday from you.

But then you saw me, caught you by surprise

A single teardrop falling from your eye

When your eyes met, she didn't know what to feel. She didn't know whether to feel happy, to feel sad, to feel hurt, or to feel angry that she let you go.

That bittersweet smile you gave her, hurt her in ways she didn't even know was possible. She got shot before, she got stabbed, she got punched and kicked multiple times before, but this type of pain is something she's never experienced before.

She wanted to run up to the stage and beg for your forgiveness while hugging you tightly when she saw the single tear falling from your eye.

I don't know why I run away

I made you cry when I run away

She left before the song ended. She ran away, again. She ran to the rooftop. The place where you two always ran together to.

She didn't even notice Bucky following her.

Wanda Immediately approached you when you got off stage. She pulled you into a hug before pointing at the stairway up to the rooftop.

"She's up there. Go follow her, please. Bucky followed her, I'm worried it might not end well for Bucky." She said with a wince, remembering the last time someone tried to approach Natasha while she had so many emotions running.

You bit your lower lip, your hesitation was strong. But the worried look from Wanda was enough to make you run up.

"Leave me alone for a minute, Buck." You heard Natasha say, trying to control her emotions. Her hands are gripping the rails so tightly, her knuckles were turning white.

"What's wrong Tash?" The nickname he used wasn't helping. You used to call her that all the time.

"Please, Bucky, just 5 minutes. Please." She pleaded, you noticed her grip was getting tighter.

"Just tell me what's wrong, Natasha!" He raised his voice. Something you never did in all your years you two dated.

"For fuck's sake I still love her! I still fucking love Y/N so much, that it actually hurts! Is that what you wanted to hear?!" Natasha finally screamed back, turning to face Bucky directly. Tears were rolling down her cheeks.

"Я так скучаю по ней, Bucky, which is stupid cause I was the one who broke her heart. So I have no right to act like it hurts me more, but it still hurts so much." She murmured, not even caring that she was crying in front of Bucky. (translation : I miss her so much.)

"What?" Bucky couldn't believe it. He thought they were both in love, he was even going to ask her to be his girlfriend officially tonight. "Leave, please." Natasha forced herself to calm down, glaring at Bucky as he shamefully walked towards the stairwell where you were.

When Bucky saw you, he tried his best to give you a genuine smile. "Her heart's still yours. Don't lose it." He said as he gave your shoulder a pat and walked away.

You took a deep breath before approaching Natasha.

"Tasha." Just one word from you was enough to gain Natasha's attention. She turned around in surprise, wiping her tears hastily.

"Y/N? What're you doing here?" She tried her best to act calm, using all her spy skills to act collected in front of you. But you both know that you could see right through it.

"Was it true, Natasha? You told Bucky you still love me. Were you telling the truth?" You asked carefully, not wanting to overwhelm her. You leaned your back against the railings beside her, she had her arms leaning against it as she looked at the busy streets below.

"What are you going to do if I said yes?" She answered your question with her own question. You just shrugged, staring up into the stars.

You felt her shiver when a particularly strong wind blew past you. Instinctively, you gave her your jacket.

You could've asked me why I broke your heart

You could've told me that you fell apart

"Why aren't you asking me why I left? Why I ran away? Why aren't you screaming at me? Why aren't you mad at me?" She said after you placed your jacket on her shoulders. She was frustrated at herself for ending things with you. She was also frustrated as to why you weren't hating her like she thinks she deserves.

"What's the point of getting mad? Being mad at you won't get you back, it won't help me understand why you left either." She hated how understanding you were. It made her guilt grow bigger with every word you say.

"I really want to ask something though," She looked at you expectantly, thinking of possible questions you could ask. "Why'd you run away?" You felt her breath hitch when you finally let those words leave your tongue. You were also nervous yourself, not knowing what to expect from your ex-girlfriend.

"I was scared." She took a deep breath before continuing, "You're just too perfect. We were so perfect that it terrified me. Nothing stays that good that long. Everything had consequences. Maybe the consequence for me was that you moved on so quickly."

But you walked past me like I wasn't there

And just pretended like you didn't care

Your brows furrowed. 'You moved on too quickly'?

"But I haven't moved on, Nat. What gave you the idea that I already did?"

"You just walk past me everyday at the compound ever since you returned. I thought you didn't care about it anymore." She finally looked at you, both your eyes meeting like they were always destined to meet.

"'Cause I didn't want to hold you back, Natasha. I thought it'd help us both move on if we acted like nothing happened. I guess it didn't, I'm sorry." You were always so nice. Natasha hated it. She hated the fact that she feels like she's abusing your kindness and that she couldn't do anything about it.

Take me back 'cause I wanna stay

Save your tears for another

"Does that mean you still love me?" Natasha hesitantly asked, biting her lower lip.

"Of course, Tash." You said with a small sad smile. A smile immediately made itsm's way to her face. But when she saw your smile, her's faltered and her brows furrowed.

"I'm assuming there's a 'but' to that sentence?"

You nodded slowly, giving her a smile that made her worries grow.

"I never stopped loving you, Tasha, just... not in the same way as before." Natasha felt her heart drop. No matter how much she tried to stop the tears from falling, she couldn't stop them when she heard those words from you.

"What do you mean, Y/N?"

Yeah, I broke your heart like someone did to mine

And now you won't love me for a second time

You bit your lower lip, trying to find the right words to explain it properly to her.

"I still love you, but you hurt me, Tasha. I understand you got scared, but if you really loved me you would've told me. You should've explained your feelings and worries to me. We could've gotten through that together." You hated seeing her cry, more so being the reason she's crying. But you needed to tell her this, you both needed it to move on.

"I'm sorry. Does that mean we— you don't want me back anymore?" She asked in a voice so quiet you could barely hear it.

I realize that I'm much too late

And you deserve someone better

Your smile broke all her hopes. She started sobbing quietly, something she's never done before. She's a silent crier, so hearing her sob hurts you way more than you expected. You immediately pulled her into a hug, confusing her but her mind was too foggy to even question it. Her arms instinctively went around your neck as she buried her face into the crook of your neck.

Save your tears for another day

"Of course I want you back, silly. I'm just saying that we need to work to get back to where we were before. I won't ever let you go again, Natasha, so please don't let go either." You whispered into her ear. Every part of Natasha came back to life the moment those words left your lips.

You felt her hug you tighter. You continued to whisper comforting words to calm her down, as she whispered promises to you as well.

"You are the only sure thing in a world filled with a thousand doubts, Natalia. Please don't walk away again." You murmured, feeling her nodding her head hastily.

"Never again, my love. You're the only thing that keeps me sane. I love you." She pulled away from the hug to cup your cheeks and close the gap between your lips.

That's when you knew, you're never going to see her in the arms of anyone besides yourself, ever again.

Save your tears for another day (ah)

note :

surprise ! the original ending was that bucky and natasha ended up together cause y/n didn't want to take natasha back. buuuut i didn't wanna hurt myself that much while writing it so yeah, u guys get this. enjoyyyy!

taglist (i won't do taglists but i will be doing it for fics w/ diff parts) : @taliiiaasteria @itstashaswife @username23345 @wandanatlov3r @esposadejoyhuerta @marvelwomen-simp @artm99 @d3adp00ls @freewaysigns-underpasses @unique0003 @inlovewithalcinadimitrescu @spid3rfan @ellieromanov @mikookaaaaaao @miky40s @ncsdlr @unknownfanfic @pipsipey17 @tarathia @kyky-maximoff @graceher07 (i didn't know if the people who asked for pt2 wanted to get tagged so if u didn't, i'm so sorrryyyyy)

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x female #bucky barnes #gay gay gay #ely !! ★#by ely !! ★#avengers x reader #Spotify

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strawberrynightmare · 7 months

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Mikey, Baji & Inupi getting whacked while they're trying to wake you up

Content warning: These take place during/after a sleepover! Tickling, something awful happens in Mikey's fic

Mikey

~Modern problems require modern solutions 🤠

~Late, late in the night, you were playing all kinds of games. Cards, truth or dare, illuminati, board games, video games, fire boy and water girl, you name it. Mikey was reaching the peak of competitiveness and you were not far behind.

~And you would have been long knocked out had it not been for the sugar rush the two of you were on. Needless to say… the two of you were more than a bit hyperactive.

~It was good after two am that a blood-curling crisis made its way into your blissful playtime.

The two of you looked at each other in horror, as if to make sure you were not imagining things. But this dreadful situation went beyond human imagination. After a few minutes of deadly silence, your lover spoke in a quiet, shaky voice.

“We ran out of snacks.”

~Even though the two of you stocked up so well beforehand, it was all gone now. After some good 15 minutes of crying about it, a rock paper scissors match began. Of course, the loser had to go through the hardships of getting their ass up, dressing up, going to the nearest 24/7 convenience store and buying some more food.

~And he lost.

~As he dragged himself through the room, you could swear it looked like he was going to his own execution. He mumbled under his breath but the two of you were so out of it, you didn’t care and he didn’t even know what he was mumbling in the first place.

~He was back pretty soon but still found you passed out on the floor of his room. Your boyfriend didn’t think much about it when he began to gently kick your side.

“Wake up, y/n I’ve got your favourite cookies.” ~Guy who looked and sounded like a zombie

~He knelt down to unpack the two bags of snacks while continuing to nudge you with his hand. And next thing he knew was a kick to his jaw as you shifted from laying on your back to your side.

~He blinked a few times, instinctively touched his chin, sat there for a while, then stood up to turn off the light and fell asleep next to you.

~Via the two of you trying to figure out how he got a bruise on his jaw after you woke up.

Baji

~Aaand he took that personally 🙄

~It was definitely not a great idea to have a sleepover at his house on a Wednesday, but he got a bit impatient. For three whole days, you listened to him complaining about not sleeping well and insisting that the cure would be you sleeping over.

~”What is it? I’m telling you, my mom likes you anyways. And if I sleep well, my grades will be better too!”

You’ve slept well for so many years, and the good grades were never in sight.”

”That’s foul, y/n!”

~In the end you settled for a study sleepover. Instead of messing around, the plan was to study together for some time and then go to sleep at a reasonable hour. Yeah, the plan was all it was.

~You were able to go through two pages of your textbooks before getting utterly distracted and doing whatever the hell you wanted. You ended up sneaking out even before the clock struck midnight and enjoyed the city basked in the night to your heart’s content. It was heavily past 2am when you came back and it was only because it started raining.

~Soon afterwards you fell asleep cuddling into his chest with his arm around your shoulder.

~And he recklessly followed you into the land of dreams without any awareness of what was going to happen in the morning.

~He was woken up by his mother at the usual hour. Mrs. Baji brought you two breakfast straight into his room and as he was half awake, she urged him to wake you up as well. In a half-awake state, he barely began to complain and tell her to wake you up herself before she cut him off with “I tried”.

~In his defence, he thought that shaking your arms lightly and calling out your name would be enough to wake you up. Jokes on him, you didn’t even budge. He tried everything his mother ever used on him, taking away your blanket, rubbing your back, hell, he even tried to wake you up with a kiss - nothing worked.

~He was absentmindedly poking your cheek while trying to come up with something else. All he could think of was a glass of cold water or calling his friends. It was then that he suddenly got smacked in the face with a pillow. The force of the hit was enough to have him rolling out of the bed. His traitor pillow was dropped right next to him. All you did was roll onto your side. Still asleep.

~If his loud ‘HAA????’ didn’t manage to wake you up, you might as well have been dead. Anyways, prepare because he took that as a declaration of war. How does a sleeping person prepare for anything

~He climbed back, pushed you onto your back and began to mercilessly tickle you in all the weak spots he was aware of. He even took a feather out of his pillow and began tickling your feet and that was the final straw, for you to wake up completely disoriented, fall from the bed and instinctively kick your boyfriend off the bed. Both of you ended up on the floor, but Baji didn’t even notice that. He was too busy patting himself on the back and praising his genius for managing to wake you up.

~All while he existed there in a half-conscious state, trying to comprehend the whole situation.

~And then he dragged you to school. You were late because waking you up almost took him a whole hour.

~Surprisingly, he managed to take the test and actually answer enough questions for you to consider him passing it.

~So now he has an excuse to invite you in more often. Although he did learn to only do this on weekends so that you can sleep for as long as you wish, Sleeping y/n is the one person he’s too afraid to face again.

Inupi

~Bro gave up 💀

~It happened during a sleepover. The two of you were on the couch and watching a movie late in the night. He excused himself for a while when he noticed someone koko calling him. The call lasted longer than expected and when he came back, you were already asleep.

~All he wanted was to gently wake you up by rubbing your cheek so that you could move to his bigger and more comfortable bed. Totally not because he wanted to cuddle you. Not at all.

~But then he got smacked with a pillow you were clutching to your chest so hard, the force made him fall backwards and land on his ass. You were still asleep as he sat there, trying to comprehend what just happened.

~He wasn’t even sure whether you were just pretending to sleep to take the sofa or it was really just you reacting to unwanted stimuli.

~He sighed and simply went back to his room to gather the blankets and cushions. Then, he slipped a cushion under your head, gently fixed it into a more comfortable position and wrapped you up in a blanket. After that, he just made some adjustments for himself and sat next to you, leaning his body on yours.

~This fixed the issue the two of you always had. The issue was called ‘Who takes the bed?!’. While he insisted that you should take it, you insisted that it was his bed and you were fine with the couch. But he was also fine with the couch and he couldn’t just- sleep comfortably in his warm bed and make you sleep out there. Sharing the bed felt so intimate that none of you dared to suggest it although i know some of ya simps would jump at the first gotten chance to share a bed with him

~...So the two of you are now sharing a couch, but he swore that the next time, you’re taking the bed even if he has to drag you in there himself.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers #tokrev #sano manjiro x reader #mikey x reader #sano manjiro #mikey #baji keisuke #baji x reader #baji keisuke x reader #baji #inui seishu #inui seishu x reader #inupi x reader #inupi #inupi seishu

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evangelical04 · 26 days

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A Single Daffodil || 2

Summary: Getting arranged to be married to your long-time crush wasn't exactly the fairy tale romance you were hoping for. Nor is the dynamic of the marriage, with your husband treating you like you don't exist. But you're going to make this work, whether he cares about you or not. And he definitely doesn't...right?

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 18+ minors DNI

Word Count: 9.1K

Genre: angst, romance, unrequited love, smut, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage au, businessman yoongi

Warnings: parental trauma, sibling trauma, toxic parents, unrequited love, explicit language, alcohol usage, yoongi's kind of mean, future smut

Author's Note: hi everyone! it's currently exactly 2am for me lol but I wanted to get this chapter out today! i was hoping to having the wedding happen but I like it more for the next chapter. all the support has been so overwhelming and amazing, thank you guys so much for all the love!! i appreciate it so much and I'm grateful that you all are so supportive, especially for my first ever fic. i really hope you guys enjoy this chapter! also, just let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist!

Taglist:

@yoongisducky @kam9404 @sumzysworld @tarahardcore @viankiss @babystarcandylovejk @ktownshizzle @futuristicenemychaos @igot7fairlyoddparents @baechugff @pb89nv @peachytokki @ratherbfangirling

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You could feel your eyes glazing over with the amount of time you’d spent staring at your computer screen. A quick glance at the clock showed that only a couple hours had passed since you’d arrived at work, and a devastating thirty minutes remained until your lunch break. Rubbing at your tired eyes, you tried to find the energy to resume reviewing the materials your team had sent you, but you came up short.

The wedding planning had been taking a lot out of you the past couple of months, even though your mother wasn’t letting you decide anything for it anyway. She had been quite clear that all you had to do was show up and that your input wouldn’t be needed. You couldn’t honestly say you had an issue with that, this didn’t feel like your wedding anyway. If it were yours, you would’ve been getting married to someone you love, and crucially, someone who loves you in return.

But that wasn’t in the cards for you and you knew that well, so you went along with your mother’s planning placidly, agreeing to almost everything she mentioned and getting ignored on things you didn’t. It left you exhausted, both physically and emotionally. It felt like an out-of-body experience every time your mother pulled you into another appointment for your dress fittings or makeup and hair test runs. You could feel yourself simply going through the motions and just waiting until the appointment was done so you could return to your mundane life.

Not much else had changed, honestly. You were still working, hanging out with your friends on occasion, reading in bed, and watching television in the evenings. The only thing looming over you was the date of the wedding, now only six months away. It felt like an omen, always hovering near you, spiking your heart rate, and making you sweat.

Even your team had noticed your heightened anxiety and expressed their worries to you, especially the youngest, Choi Song Ha. She was a cute, young thing, a fresh face in the industry that you had quickly taken under your wing once you had set eyes on her in the new recruit orientation you visited just over a year ago now. You knew just how quickly the gaming industry ate up and spat out women like clockwork and you didn’t want the same fate for her, so you’d snatched her up into your team. She truly felt like the little sister you’d never had and your bond quickly grew over the months since you’d met. She had picked up on your dampened mood and resolved to leave you small treats of a chip bag or chocolates on your desk every other day or so as a means to cheer you up. She knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t appreciate outright signs of concern or making a scene at work, and you loved her for it.

She had left you a small red ginseng jelly this morning with a doodle of a grumpy cat stuck to it on a post-it note. It made you smile every time you glanced at it.

It kind of reminded you of Yoongi. The two of you hadn’t talked since that night in the restaurant, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to talk to him. Your mother had given you his number and you’d saved it, but you hadn’t made any move to message him.

“Team leader?”

You turned, snapping out of your daze to face another one of your team members, Yeonsik.

“Yes, Yeonsik,” you responded, trying to appear calm and collected, and not like you were just thinking about your soon-to-be husband who hates you.

“We have the materials from the character graphics department for Plan C ready, it’s in your inbox now. They said that they’re ready to make any changes you want, but they’re worried about the deadline for the second draft,” Yeonsik rambled. He was a nice man, only a few years younger than you, and quite passionate about his job since joining your team two years back, just after you’d become the team lead of Planning Group 1. He had a handsome face with longer, dark hair and bright eyes that were eager to please.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know. Also, good job on keeping Graphics 2 on track, I know they’ve been giving us a hard time with getting the updated designs over. Thanks again,” you said politely, sending him a small smile. Yeonsik beamed in response and returned to his seat happily. You chuckled fondly at his antics before opening the file he’d sent. You loved your team members and you held a high respect for them. You knew you led them well and that they respected you in return. It was a small team, consisting of only five people, including you, but you were content with the group and the dynamic. You often went out for drinks together after work, usually followed by karaoke and at least one member passing out, most often Yeonsik, who would then be picked up by his boyfriend. You were a close-knit group and you couldn’t imagine a better job.

Slowly, Mrs. Min’s words crept back into your mind at the thought of how much you loved your position. Surely, Yoongi wouldn’t expect you to quit your job? You wouldn’t be able to bear it.

No, he said that he would do his thing and you would do yours, you reminded yourself. That’s right, you’d agreed that you wouldn’t interfere in each other’s lives. Except, you hadn’t really agreed, had you? You’d just acquiesced because he’d been in the motion of leaving anyway. You weren’t really sure if that’s what you’d wanted, living separate lives and being married only on paper.

Yoongi’s words rang clear in your head as you gnawed on your lower lip, was this really how this marriage was going to be? The two of you not even acknowledging each other except at galas and parties where you had to appear married? You didn’t want that.

But…if Yoongi did, how much say did you really have? As much as you wanted to make this work, it had to be a two-way street. If Yoongi didn’t want anything to do with you, you would have to accept that and just try to get through this the best you could. You had said to Joohee that day you’d found out, that there’s nothing you can do to stop him.

It felt painful to come to terms with, especially in the environment of your office where you still had to appear professional. Thankfully, you breathed, none of your team members had noticed your mini-mental breakdown.

Your phone buzzed with a new message from Yujin, your mother’s assistant.

From Yang Yujin

Hello Miss Y/N,

Your mother has asked me to confirm your three attendees for your wedding invitations. The invitations will be sent out on Friday night, so please send your three names with their contact information and address to me by then. If possible, please send it at least one day beforehand as Mrs. Seo would like to review them before I send the invitations out.

Additionally, she has set up another meeting for you with Mr. Min Yoongi on Friday, at 6 pm. Please find the location details below.

Please let me know if you need any other information,

Yang Yujin

You sighed, reading over the email again. For one, you honestly didn’t even know who you’d want to invite. You didn’t really have that many friends outside of Joohee, your colleagues, and Jung Hoseok, your friend from college. You knew that Joohee would already be invited, but you weren’t sure about Hoseok. He wasn’t a part of the same social circle as you and Joohee, especially since he didn’t come from a richer family, but you’d met him in college and introduced him to Joohee soon after. The three of you had been practically inseparable during your undergrad but after graduation, the three of you hadn’t met up in person in a while, with Hoseok in Busan for work. You tapped your chin thoughtfully with the eraser end of a pencil, maybe you should send an invite to Hoseok. Suddenly, another thought occurred to you, making the pencil drop from your fingers and onto your lap.

You hadn’t even told Hoseok about Yoongi!

“Damn,” you muttered, making a mental note to call him later today. You’d figure out the other invites later. Your eyes drifted to the second part of the email.

Another meeting, huh? It sounds like it’ll be just the two of us this time. I wonder if he’ll be any different.

A rap of knuckles against your desk brought your attention back in front of you. Song Ha stood beside your chair, looking at you curiously, “It’s lunch, Team Leader. Want to grab something with the team downstairs?”

Shit, you had agreed to grab lunch with Joohee today.

“No, Miss Choi, I’ll be meeting a friend of mine. But you all enjoy your lunch!”

“Alright, have fun!”

The team slowly filed out, discussing amongst themselves what they’d get from the cafeteria today. You almost longed to go with them, but you knew you had to tell Joohee about the email you got.

You could feel a headache coming on.

Sighing, you stood and gathered your things into your tote bag, never having liked purses, and started the walk towards the elevators to reach the quaint cafe across the street you and Joohee liked to frequent.

You had arrived before Joohee, which was to be expected with your office right across and decided to grab a table for both of you. Setting your tote bag in the seat beside you, you read the email once more on your phone. It dragged another sigh out of you before you almost jumped into the air at the sound of Joohee’s voice.

“What’s got you so melancholy?’

You breathed out to calm your heart rate from the mini jumpscare and looked up at her. She was dressed a bit more formal than you in a light blue blouse and dark navy dress pants that fell gracefully in silk around her long legs with a maroon purse hanging from her shoulder. Her office was much more formal than yours, working under her father. Your own office often had team leaders and higher-ups in jeans, the nature of your work making it more casual, so you contrasted her in a simple black sweatshirt and blue jeans.

“I have to meet Yoongi again on Friday.”

“God damn.”

You nodded somberly as she took her seat across from you, “You remember what happened last time? Why does it feel like he’s gonna eat me alive this time?”

Joohee looked at you suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows.

You recoiled, shooting her a glare, “Good God, woman, not like that.”

Joohee relented, waving her hands in surrender, “Okay, well, assume he’ll be the same. Then you won’t be caught off guard. But I think you should still try to get through to him. Maybe, at the very least, you guys can become friends.”

You hummed in agreement, what she was saying made sense. You weren’t exactly hoping for a rom-com drama-like romantic relationship, but being friends wouldn’t be so bad.

A waiter arrived, taking your drink and food orders, and you and Joohee fell back into easy conversation about your jobs and other small gossip. As much as you were trying to pay attention to what Joohee was saying, you couldn’t help your mind returning to Yoongi and his dark eyes scrutinizing you and his cold, biting voice.

“Y/N?”

You focused back into Joohee and her concerned stare dug into you, “What?”

“Are you still thinking about Yoongi?”

You nodded, looking away. You felt bad for not listening to her especially when she had basically given you a solution to your anxiety regarding Friday. You heard her sigh before speaking.

“Listen, Y/N, you can’t stop how he’s going to behave towards you. You can only control how you respond. I think your best bet is to try to tell him you’re not expecting him to treat you like a wife, but you want him to treat you like a friend. Unless that isn’t what you want.”

“No, it is,” you said, keeping yourself from burying your head in your hands, “And you’re right, that’s all I can do. Why didn’t you become a therapist, again?”

Joohee only grinned in response, “I’m too pretty.”

Joohee’s words from earlier echoed in your head for the rest of the workday. Did you really want him to treat you like a friend? Or something more?

You weren’t sure. Of course, you had this half-crush, half-infatuation with the man since you’d met him when you were younger, but marriage was a totally different game. Were you really ready to spend the rest of your life with a man you were attracted to but he couldn’t feel the same?

Maybe he could.

You knocked that thought away as soon as it entered your mind, you shouldn’t be getting your hopes up. You knew that Yoongi was less than happy about the situation and the unfavorable circumstances would only serve to further distance him from you. You would have to be okay with just being friends if that.

As you paced around your apartment later that night, you stopped in front of your dresser in your bedroom. In the third drawer from the top was the handkerchief that Yoongi had given you when you were younger. You had kept it meaning to give it back to him, but you had barely seen him since then, let alone had a moment in private to give it to him.

Most of your interactions had been minimal conversations at parties and galas, often accompanied by Joohee and Seokjin. You couldn’t recall a time when Yoongi had actually talked to you directly in any of those scenarios. So why did your crush persist?

Maybe it was the innocence of your first meeting, the cliche of it all. You, small, sad, and alone, and Yoongi, showing up like your knight in shining armor. You had had a fascination with him since then, always trying to seek out his silhouette or pitch-black hair at gatherings afterward. Yet, he never approached you alone, nor did you make an attempt to do so yourself. You had called it an infatuation with Joohee because it really was, you didn’t really know anything about him, much less had a full conversation with him. Even when you were in a group with him, Seokjin, and Joohee, he would barely acknowledge you.

Not that he was obligated to.

You fell back onto your bed and stared up at the ceiling, letting out a soft grunt when you hit the mattress. Would you be able to survive actually getting to know Yoongi? Your greatest fear was that you would fall in love with him, you were basically already primed for it. And that would not work out, you knew that, and you refused to consider any other outcome.

You couldn’t afford to get your hopes up.

Turning on your side, you could feel your thoughts drift to your few interactions with him growing up. He had always been polite, but cold. The most he’d said to you was a curt greeting and the barest of small talk. The only other interactions you’d really had were your first meeting and hearing about his escapades through the grapevine, mainly Joohee. Nonetheless, you found yourself infatuated, your eyes finding his slightly round cheeks and pouty lips inevitably. What would life be like once you got married?

You tried to imagine yourself in a domestic setting with Yoongi but quickly shut that down, that would only bring up unwanted feelings. You considered whether or not he would continue seeing other people after you were married. Joohee had said it was very possible. Would you be able to handle it? Joohee had suggested that you fool around a bit yourself but you had quickly dismissed that. Cheating was something you would never tolerate in a relationship, from the other person or from yourself. You knew that the reality would be different in your situation, but you still refused to let yourself stray from Yoongi.

Not that you hadn’t tried in the past. You had been in only two relationships leading up to now, one in college and another as a short burst after graduation. It all felt pointless when you knew you wouldn’t get to choose who you spent the rest of your life with. It was an agony that, along with other factors, ended both of your relationships. Mina had been a bright spot in your life, but she couldn’t deal with the fact that you were not only not out to your parents, but that you would likely not be able to be with her long term anyway. There had been other signs that the relationship wouldn’t work out, and you had tried to remain friends but it didn’t pan out past college.

The relationship after college that had only lasted a few months was with Jaehyun, a sweet man who had been your coworker at your first job out of college. He was very kind to you and you felt comfortable in his presence, but you couldn’t handle the guilt of going out with him while knowing he wouldn’t be the one you marry. To his credit, he had been very understanding when you’d broken down in front of him in a guilt-fueled spiral. He’d held you until you calmed down, wiped your tears, and squeezed you tight before leaving, stating that you could always call him if you needed anything. You still messaged him sometimes, and you remained firm that if you did get to choose who to marry, he would be your first choice.

The arranged marriage had been looming over your life since you were old enough to understand the importance of status to your family. You were sure Yoongi’s family was the same. You were both expected to keep your duty to your family, a repayment for the comfortable life you both had lived. Once or twice you had considered telling your parents you wouldn’t go through with it when the time came, but you knew that it would only result in you having to pay them back for everything they had ever given money towards for you. Even though you’d gotten multiple scholarships for college, your parents insisted you go to a prestigious university that rarely gave any money to their students because they knew their parents would have wide-open wallets. There was no way you’d ever be able to pay that back in your lifetime, especially with your current job.

So you were stuck. But you knew you weren’t really all that unhappy. While the circumstances weren’t what you preferred, you couldn’t deny the small excitement that you felt at the prospect of being able to have a relationship with Yoongi. The caveat to that was also knowing that he was an entirely unwilling participant in this situation, which wasn’t really going to work to your advantage. You were set on remaining a realist, refusing to consider the idea that Yoongi might come to love you. It felt like you didn’t have much of any other choice. Everything about this entire situation made you feel like a passive observer, someone with no impact or voice, which wasn’t far from the truth. You imagined Yoongi was much the same.

Distantly, you wondered how many people Yoongi was allowed to invite to the wedding.

Speaking of! You had almost forgotten to call Hoseok, and it was getting late. You scrambled to reach for your phone, stretching your arm out to the nightstand where your phone sat, and grasping it. Dialing his number, you registered how low his contact was on your recent calls. You really needed to call him more often. Hitting his contact, you waited for the ringing to start. He answered rather quickly, which surprised you, as he was usually an early sleeper.

“Hey, Y/N! It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has. I missed you. Hobi,” you said, not realizing how much you meant it until the words left your mouth. It really had been too long since you’d called.

“What’s up? You don’t sound too happy. Is everything okay,” he questioned, and your heart warmed at his concerned nature. He was always able to read you well, better than Joohee sometimes.

“Yeah, everything’s fine I guess. I’m getting married, actually.”

The other end of the line was silent for a bit before you heard Hoseok let out a breath and speak, “Oh, wow. Okay. How are you feeling?”

You choked out a laugh, “You’re not even asking who I’m marrying?”

“Well, I know that it’s not someone you chose. So I want to know how you’re doing. When did you find out?”

Your laughter died at his serious nature, your attempt at lightening the mood unsuccessful, “About two months ago. The wedding’s in around six. Want an invite? I get a whole three guests of my own choosing.”

He chuckled softly at that, “Of course I do, you know I’ll be there. But seriously, how are you feeling about this?”

You almost sighed at his unwillingness to let you escape his question, “I don’t know, honestly. I really don’t. I think I’m weirdly at peace with it? I’ve been expecting it for so long and now it’s finally happening. Plus, it being Min Yoongi isn’t exactly the worst thing ever.”

You could hear his surprise over the phone, “Min Yoongi? Like your crush of almost two decades, Min Yoongi?”

You groaned, responding, “Jeez, way to remind me how old I am. Yes, that Min Yoongi. He’s definitely not as okay with it as I am though.”

“What do you mean?”

You recounted the past meeting with his family to Hoseok while he patiently listened and interrupted occasionally to provide his own thoughts. When you finished, you could practically see him falling back against his desk chair, exhaling a burst of air.

“Well, that’s a lot.”

You let out a short laugh, “Yeah, that’s been my life for the past couple of months.”

“I think Joohee gave you some good advice. I’d probably say something similar to you. Try to make the most of the situation but don’t expect a lot from him. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, “Yeah, you’re probably right. But, enough about me, how are you doing? How’s work?”

Hosek launched into recapping how busy the dance school he taught at had been lately and the gossip surrounding his coworkers. You felt yourself relax more into the conversation and slowly forget your troubling feelings surrounding Yoongi.

You would deal with those come Friday.

It was Friday. You made sure to leave work a bit early, giving you enough time to run back to your apartment to change and look presentable. You had chosen your outfit with Joohee’s help the night prior. You were meeting at a relatively fancy restaurant but it was more of a bar, so you didn’t want to be too formal. You had opted for a green dress with a small flower print since you were coming off the winter months into spring. Your dress was an A-line cocktail dress with a square neckline and puffed sleeves that cinched at your wrist. You’d had it for a while and knew how it looked on you, and you knew you would feel comfortable in it tonight. The last thing you needed weighing on your mind was getting in your head about how you looked, which you usually felt nauseous from.

With it approaching six, you quickly finished up some minimal makeup, topped it off with a lip tint, and tried your best to make your hair look presentable after what was a long day of work. A glance at your watch told you that you didn’t have much time left, so you rushed to your car, almost forgetting your small purse, and started your drive over to the restaurant. You didn’t want to be late and make a bad impression on Yoongi, although you didn’t know if his impression of you could get any worse.

After you arrived and were sat at your table, you checked your phone to see the time and were relieved to note that you were a couple of minutes early. You felt yourself relax into the booth and started taking slow, calming breaths to slow down your racing heartbeat. The adrenaline of trying to get to the restaurant on time was starting to fade and you took another glance at your watch.

6:06

Well, that’s fine. He’s probably just a little late, you tried to reassure yourself, but you had a sinking feeling. As the minutes marched on, the sinking feeling grew deeper, and you could feel yourself growing slightly annoyed.

6:29

Well, whatever.

You took out your phone from your purse and decided to message him. It should be reasonable, right? You had scheduled this beforehand, after all. Well, not you, your mother, but still, the principle held.

You:

Hi Yoongi-ssi, this is Seo Y/N. I’m waiting at the restaurant at the moment

and I was wondering if you were alright, since you weren’t here yet? Please let me know if you’d like to reschedule instead.

You winced at how the text message sounded more like an email between colleagues, but you weren’t sure how casual you were supposed to be with him. Before you could mull over the tone of your message more, you hit the send button and bit your lip as you waited for a response. Your fingers began to pick at your dress in a nervous habit and you kept your eyes trained on the restaurant entrance in case you spotted him.

Finally, at 6:42, you saw the head of black hair that had haunted your dreams as of late. He walked in calmly, looking slightly disheveled, but his lax pace didn’t betray anything about his tardy entrance. He looked infuriatingly attractive in a well-fitted suit with the tie loosened and the top couple of buttons undone. His eyes met yours as the hostess led him to your table and you smiled politely at him, receiving only a cursory nod in return. The waitress quickly approached as he sat down across from you and took his drink order, two fingers of whisky, while you asked for more water. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to drink, more that you needed to keep your wits about you for this dinner and alcohol would only make you feel nauseous in your already anxious state.

With the waitress gone, he turned to you and you felt yourself flush automatically, something you internally cursed. You wished he didn’t have such an effect on you. He declined to say anything, so you took a moment to take in his appearance now that he was much closer to you.

You could see that his collar was more rumpled than you initially thought and his hair a bit more mussed. You saw a small mark just barely visible from beneath his white button-up, above his tie. Now that he was much closer, you could smell a faint scent of a sweet perfume that you knew wasn’t yours since you had only worn a very light citrus one.

Oh. He was with someone else. Why does that bother me so much?

Finally, he spoke, his deep voice lulling you out of your trance of staring at the mark on his chest, “Sorry I’m late. I saw your text, but I was driving. To be completely honest, I forgot about this.”

For a moment, his apology surprised you. For some reason, you hadn’t expected him to apologize. Maybe you’d built him up to be this cartoon villain in your head after your last interaction, but you’d forgotten that he was human just like you.

“That’s alright, it’s no problem,” you responded kindly, noting the way his eyebrow slightly furrowed at your response, “How was your day?”

He raised an eyebrow at you in a questioning manner, “Are you really going to do small talk with me?”

You let out an embarrassed laugh at your failure to engage him and tried for a new tactic instead, “Okay, what would you like to talk about then?”

“I want to set some ground rules.”

Your surprise must’ve shown on your face because you saw the way his expression almost changed to amusement. You quickly shook off the abruptness of the statement and nodded your head, “Okay, like what?”

“First, you’ll be moving into my apartment. I’m sure your mother already told you,” you nodded, “Do not enter my bedroom or office without knocking. I’ll extend the same courtesy to you. Second, we keep our lives separate. Unless we need to appear at an event together, we shouldn’t be mingling our private lives, including friends, work, things like that. Thirdly, this marriage is going to be on paper only. Don’t expect me to treat you like my girlfriend, or my wife, because we both know that’s not what this is.”

You felt your teeth take in your bottom lip as you considered his words, “Okay, that’s fine, I guess.” You couldn’t really stop him from wanting to do that, but it still hurt some. Any hopes you had of getting a normal romantic relationship after this were quickly dashed by his next rule.

“Lastly, I want this to be open. Our parents aren’t pressuring us for kids, so we can both find relief elsewhere. We both know this is only for increased stocks and influence in our respective companies. So, I do whatever I want and you do whatever you want in that regard, and we don’t interfere in each other’s love lives.”

You felt your face fall a bit, but you tried to control your expression. You had prepared for this, Joohee had prepared you for this. So why were you still so upset? He’s giving you the go-ahead to find whoever you want, so it’s not technically cheating. So why does it still feel so wrong?

“Okay,” you said uneasily, “That’s all okay.” It felt like you were saying it more for yourself than for him.

His eyebrow quirked once more. They were very expressive, you noticed.

“That’s it? You don’t have any rules of your own you want to add in?”

Your hands clenched onto the edge of the booth seat, needing something to ground you. Rules of your own? Your head was swimming with everything that had just happened, you could barely think of anything else, “No, none I want to add.”

Yoongi leaned back and clasped his hands, “Alright then. Shall we eat? My dad’s technically paying so eat all you want.”

You shakily took hold of the menu you’d already looked over a hundred times while waiting for him, not wanting to appear rude by being on your phone. You had already chosen what dish you wanted when Yujin had sent you the restaurant name, a habit of yours being to look up the menu beforehand to choose. The waitress approached and took your orders, taking the menu from your hands, leaving you with nothing to grasp your quivering fingers onto.

You looked over at Yoongi, seeing him on his phone, scrolling. You felt yourself blanch at the blatant disregard and couldn’t find it in yourself to try and start a conversation.

The minutes passed by slowly, and you were barely relieved when the food came, providing momentary respite by giving you something to do. You felt like you’d never been in a more awkward situation. The waitress quickly refilled both your drinks, and you noted that Yoongi had ordered water this time. It must be because he’s driving.

Soon, the both of you finished your food, in utter silence. The waitress, who was quite on top of her game, swiftly provided the bill and told you to take your time. You had a feeling she felt the awkward tension as much as you did.

Once the bill was paid, you and Yoongi walked out towards the parking lot where he started shifting to move in the direction of his car before you blurted out, “Wait!”

He turned, facing you with a bored expression, waiting for you to finish speaking.

“I do have a rule actually.”

Seeming slightly intrigued now, he gestured for you to continue.

“I want us to try and be friends. Please.”

He seemed slightly surprised, judging by the way his eyebrows lifted slightly and his mouth parted. Collecting himself, he looked directly into your eyes, his dark orbs boring into your own, “No. I want us to keep our lives completely separate. We’re not friends.”

With that, he turned around and walked to his car, not sparing you another glance.

“Wow, what an asshole.”

You hummed lazily in agreement, feeling your head lull. You were already a bottle deep in more cheap Moscato with Joohee, as well as a couple of shots of strawberry soju.

“I know right! I agreed to whatever he said, why couldn’t he agree with the one thing I asked for?”

Joohee winced and prepared herself for your buzzed anger that was sure to flare up at her next statement, “Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong. It did conflict with his other rule. Not that I think he’s justified either. There shouldn’t be a problem in being friends.”

Your head snapped towards her, seeing it as a defensive move for Yoongi in your half-drunken state, but before you could find the energy to get upset, you felt yourself melt further into the couch, “Yeah, you’re right, I guess. Whatever, I don’t need him. I’ll just fuck anyone who looks my way, instead.”

“No, you won’t.”

“No, I won’t,” you cried, collapsing onto the pillow beside you, squeezing it tight, “Why am I so pathetic?”

“You’re not,” Joohee cooed, “You’re just in a shitty situation. So is he, but at least you’re not being a dick about it.”

You nodded glumly, still not feeling better about the situation. As you cradled the now-empty wine bottle to your chest, you remembered Hoseok.

“Oh yeah, I invited Hobi for the wedding. My coworker, Song Ha too. Can you believe I couldn’t think of a third person?”

Joohee laughed before throwing herself onto the couch with you, “Hey, you don’t need other friends, you have me. Besides, we’ll all be together again, then! It feels like forever since we’ve seen him.”

“Yeah, I told him and he said the same stuff as you. To try and make the best of it, or whatever,” you could feel yourself becoming less and less sober, “Can I crash here tonight?”

“Of course, do you want me to wash your dress for you?”

“No, I’ll just do it at my place. Thank God I have you.”

Joohee only laughed loudly in response, getting up to grab another bottle of soju from the fridge. The two of you lounged around before moving to watch TV in Joohee’s bed where she promptly fell asleep. Soothed by her snoring, you relaxed into her comfortable mattress and traced the light extrusions on her ceiling. Your thoughts soon drifted to Yoongi, as they seemed to do often these days.

Was he really fair in rejecting your friendship? Joohee had made a good point earlier in that it certainly conflicted with his rule of ignoring each other outside of obligated functions. But…you didn’t want that. So why did you agree? In the moment, it hadn’t really felt like you’d had another choice. You seemed to be feeling like that a lot lately.

Yoongi seemed serious about this marriage being for business only and you knew that you didn’t want that, but you couldn’t exactly tell him as such. You couldn’t be more sure that he would only be disgusted if he heard you say that and you didn’t think you’d be able to survive seeing that kind of emotion on his face when it’s directed towards you.

Not that you’d be able to survive this marriage either.

Your fingers toyed with the frayed hem of the sleep shorts you’d borrowed from Joohee, a frequent occurrence whenever you stayed over, and you saw her shift in her sleep. She really had been so supportive throughout this whole thing.

Maybe you should go to her brother for help? No, Yoongi would probably hate that.

You resisted the urge to kick your feet in frustration out of fear of waking up Joohee. This was so difficult, it was next to impossible to figure out what your next move should be.

You had a nagging feeling that your mother wouldn’t force you to meet up with Yoongi anymore before the wedding, but why did that not feel like a clear-cut win? Did you want to meet with Yoongi again?

Rubbing at your eyes frantically, you pushed aside the flurry of questions stirring inside you. You didn’t have time to deal with this. There was a large project at work that was in its final stages that you needed your full attention on and then the final beta tests before the official launch, just weeks before your wedding. You couldn’t afford to spend another moment thinking about Yoongi.

As you got more comfortable in Joohee’s bed, you turned your head to face the clock on her bedside table, reading 3:09 AM.

A sigh escaped your lips as you forced your eyes closed to try and get some rest.

You had an inkling that Yoongi would be occupying your thoughts whether you wanted it or not.

“We’ll be meeting for the rehearsal dinner in one week, Yujin will send you the information and instructions. Don’t be late.”

Your mother’s voice cut off after that, not bothering to say goodbye before ending the call. You could feel your headache coming back and you fumbled for your water bottle before getting up to grab a red ginseng packet from the breakroom. Things had been a lot lately.

The final preparations for the wedding were underway and your mother was leaving nothing to chance. Your dress had been fitted to perfection with your mother sending you a strict diet and workout plan to make sure you stayed the exact same size until the wedding. That email had been swiftly archived.

You weren’t even sure of who was in your bridal party other than Joohee being your maid of honor. Not that it mattered. This wedding wasn’t for you anyway.

As you slowly sucked out the paste from the ginseng packet, leaning against the break room counter, you wondered if Yoongi had had to go through similar procedures, though likely less extensive. You hadn’t heard from him since that dinner where he’d firmly placed a boundary between you, but he’d rarely left your mind since. You’d hoped that the reality check with Yoongi might help clear you of your feelings for him, but, instead, they only deepened your desire to get to know him better, to break past that boundary. But you knew that those ideas were merely fairy tales and this marriage was not going to be one by any means.

Distantly, you wondered how the ceremony would go. The two of you hadn’t prepared any vows, nor were you expected to. This wedding was not a show of love and everyone knew that. Your parents weren’t concerned with making it appear as though you and Yoongi were a loving couple, no, this wedding was more of an excuse to show off their wealth and influence. Your nuptials were merely a byproduct. Still, would you have to kiss Yoongi?

You quickly shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the mental image, feeling your cheeks flush hot. Yet, you couldn’t get it out of your head. You imagined his lips would be soft and gentle, that he would lead you through the kiss and deepen it for more. His hands would come to rest at your waist before encircling it, pulling you closer, flush, to his body.

No! You can’t imagine that, you’re not allowed!

Internally, you scoffed. What kind of girl wasn’t allowed to imagine kissing her fiance? You knew the truth, however, that it wasn’t your place to imagine yourself in that position. That was reserved for the person he loved, who was, decidedly, not you.

Tossing the packet, you made your way back to your way back to your desk. Settling into the pillowed surface of your chair, you browsed through your emails before noticing one from the marketing team.

From: [email protected]

RE: MIRA’S AWAKENING Influencer Advertising

Hello Team Leader Seo,

We have decided that we would like to reach out to online influencers and streamers to assist in promoting Project Mira’s Awakening. A list of possible candidates is attached, along with their profiles and viewer analytics. We would like your input on any public figures you believe may be good candidates for this endeavor. Please reach out if you and your team come up with any candidates that are not already included in the attached file.

Additionally, we would like to create merchandise to provide for these public figures and we need to confirm with you and Graphics Team 2 on graphics we can include on merchandise items. You will find a list of items we are looking to make, along with graphics suggestions, attached as well. Please coordinate with GT 2 to send over finalized ideas and start creating the images.

Thank you,

Team Leader Lim

You considered the contents, feeling the eraser of your pencil tap against your lip, who could you suggest? You had your favorite streamers, but none aligned that well with the nature of the game you were producing, which meant the viewer base wouldn’t have enough crossover with your target audience. Running through a list of the streamers you watched regularly in your head, you stopped at one in particular.

Goldenboy97.

Jeon Jeongguk was quite popular and played enough combat-based games to have sufficient audience crossover, while still being intriguing for the puzzle aspect of the game. Not that you were biased, but he was your favorite creator at the moment. You jotted down his handle and a note to ask the rest of your team about their thoughts.

Leaning back in your chair, you stared blankly at the screen as the emails continued flooding in. Slowly, but surely, your thoughts drifted back to the phone call with your mother. The wedding was next week, with the rehearsal dinner only being seven days away.

You felt a strange combination of dread and giddiness, a swirl of emotional turmoil you weren’t ready to unpack. Hoseok was coming back tonight and you were picking him up from the train station. You’d probably have time to process your emotions then. Hoseok was staying at your apartment in the guest bedroom for a couple of weeks so he could be there through the whole wedding process. He had also mentioned looking for an apartment to move into in Seoul, which made you excited. You really wanted to have the college dream team together again.

The thoughts of the actual wedding were stoking your nerves, you still hadn’t talked to Yoongi since the last time you’d met. You weren’t sure of the protocol or if you should try to talk to him beforehand, especially about the ceremony. Too cowardly to act on your anxiety, you shut off your opened messaging app on your phone. You weren’t keen on finding out how Yoongi would respond to an unprompted message.

The sound of your team packing up alerted you to the time, being slightly past five. You joined them in getting ready to leave before heading to the elevator. The rest of the group trekked slightly ahead while Song Ha walked slightly slower to stay back with you.

“So, the wedding is next week. Are you excited?”

You chuckled nervously, “Yeah, you could call it that.”

“Ah, are you nervous? Makes sense. Just think, though, soon, you’ll be married to the love of your life! How exciting!”

Your insides felt queasy. You hadn’t told Song Ha about the nature of your relationship with your betrothed because you weren’t exactly sure how to explain it to someone who wasn’t familiar, nor did you want to deal with the embarrassment, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Where are you going for your honeymoon?”

You bit your lip, “Nowhere, actually. We couldn’t get time off of work at the same time.” The honeymoon had long been decided as an unnecessary expense, and neither you nor Yoongi complained. Being stuck with him for weeks after the wedding in another country sounded like a nightmarish situation. You wouldn’t have minded a vacation though.

“Gosh, that sucks. Hopefully, you’ll be able to do something over the summer, maybe,” Song Ha pouted, swinging her work bag in line with her step. You smiled at her naivete.

“Yeah, hopefully.”

“Hobi!”

You ran towards the taller man, throwing your arms around his upper body, “I missed you! It feels so nice to have you back in Seoul.”

Feeling his chest rumble with a laugh, you squeezed him harder before releasing him.

“Feels good to be back too,” he responded, a bright, heart-shaped smile adorning his face, “Let me get my bags to your car.”

“Oh, right, let me help,” you nodded, reaching for the bigger suitcase to roll towards your car. Hoseok easily picked up the duffel bag lying at his feet and followed behind you. You had opted for driving to the station since his train had come too late for the buses to still be running, and you didn’t want to have to deal with paying for or lugging his baggage into a cab.

After loading the luggage into your trunk, you both settled into the front seats of your well-worn car. You heard Hoseok chuckle while clicking in his seatbelt, “This certainly feels different from the drunk bus and taxi rides back to the campus dorms. Even if it’s about the same level as luxury.”

You rolled your eyes, “Hey, my car is reliable. The previous owner only had it for a couple of years before selling it off and she’s been perfectly good since then. Though, my mom would probably agree with you on the luxury bit.”

“Yeah, well, who wants to listen to her opinion anyway. Before I forget, thanks again for letting me stay at your place while I’m here, I know it’ll probably be annoying with the wedding prep going on.”

“It’s no problem, seriously. Besides, a lot of my stuff’s been moved over to Yoongi’s for when I move after the wedding. I’m just keeping my apartment there in case I need it since I won’t be paying rent at Yoongi’s.” Keeping the lease on your apartment had been a conscious decision because you had figured you’d want a safe space away from the marriage drama and it wouldn’t be an extra hit to your income. What your mother and Yoongi didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

“Has he really paid off his entire apartment? You’re marrying a proper chaebol,” Hoseok joked.

You laughed lightly, a tinge of awkwardness at the idea that you really were, and you had no idea how he’d act in his own house. Tapping your fingers along the steering wheel, you tried to subtly change the topic, “Well, speaking of apartments, do you know where you’re going to be looking?”

Hoseok launched into a detailed plan he had for looking at rental properties in Seoul for both his apartment and the studio he wanted to open. You excitedly listened along, thrilled that he was planning on settling near you, as you drove to your own apartment.

After you’d parked, Hoseok insisted on taking the large suitcase, claiming that only he was strong enough to lug it up the stairs. You only laughed a little bit at his sour expression when you showed him the perfectly working elevator.

Punching in the code to your apartment, you swung open the door, making sure not to step food inside. A loud pop rang out and confetti sprayed out from the doorway.

“Surprise!”

Hoseok stumbled back, clutching at his chest and mouth agape at Joohee’s excited smile from inside the apartment, “Shit, Joohee, you scared me!”

You laughed loudly before grabbing his suitcase and rolling it inside, setting the duffel bag on top. Joohee began cleaning up the mess of confetti, Hoseok started to unpack what he’d need for the night, and you began unboxing the pizza that had arrived while Joohee was setting up.

As the three of you settled into your living room, Hoseok already teasing Joohee, you felt like a void in your heart had been filled. The last few months had been so stressful and it hadn’t felt like you’d gotten a break emotionally in so long. The sounds of your friends chattering and laughing made you feel at ease. So, naturally, Hoseok had to ruin that.

“So, Y/N, how are you feeling about the rehearsal next week? Or the wedding, for that matter.”

You shifted in your position on the loveseat, feeling yourself frown, “Um, I don’t know. I don’t know what to expect. I can’t believe I’ll be married in just over a week.” Letting out a nervous laugh, you continued, “I haven’t talked to Yoongi in like six months. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

You could feel yourself spiraling, but you had been holding in so many emotions that it felt like you couldn’t stop yourself from talking, “Honestly, I’m really scared. I don’t want this to be my life forever. I’m not ready, I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

Joohee got up from her spot on the couch to hug you, Hoseok joining soon after. Something about their touch comforting you pushed you over the edge, the dam broke, and tears began streaming down your cheeks. You sniffled pathetically, hating the level of vulnerability you were currently displaying. You hadn’t cried throughout this whole experience, but in the comforting presence of your closest friends, you couldn’t help it.

“I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to marry him if it’s going to be like this. Why does my life have to be this way? Why can’t I be normal?”

Joohee and Hoseok only squeezed you in response, not having an answer to your questions. Your tears continued on until you couldn’t cry anymore and Joohee finally released you. She stood and smiled kindly at you, “Do you want me to get you anything?”

“Water, please,” you said raspily, throat dry from all the crying. Joohee nodded before heading to the kitchen, leaving you with Hoseok who had shoved himself into the loveseat to further comfort you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, slightly muffled by burying your face in Hoseok’s soft, cotton shirt.

“You know you can always talk to us. I wish I could change this for you, that you didn’t have to do this,” he said softly, stroking your hair.

“It is what it is,” you said, feeling much more mellow now that you’d cried out all your overwhelming emotions.

“Still,” Hoseok insisted, “He has no reason to be such a jerk.” You shrugged, you felt the same but there wasn’t much you could do to change that.

Joohee returned with a cup of water which you gratefully took and sipped. Suddenly feeling quite exhausted, and a headache coming on, you tapped Hoseok to get off of you, to which he complied and clambered off the loveseat.

“Sorry guys, I’m just so exhausted now. I really appreciate you being here, but I think I’m going to head to bed,” you stated, hugging both of them, before starting to gather the trash to clean up.

Joohee laid a hand on your shoulder to stop you, “Go, get some rest. We’ll clean up.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Hoseok exclaimed, and pushed you towards your bedroom, “Go to bed!”

Laughing, you acquiesced and headed into your bedroom to get ready to sleep. As you went through your nightly routine, you felt yourself feeling a bit calmer about the upcoming week. You had your two closest friends by your side.

You were ready to handle anything that Yoongi threw at you.

Probably.

Yoongi lightly swirled the glass of whiskey between his fingers as he sat at his desk in his brown leather chair. By this time next week, he would be getting married.

His eyes drifted towards the manila folder lying at the edge of his desk, a small water stain on the corner. Inside were the files on his soon-to-be wife, Seo Y/N. He took a sip of his whiskey, the smoky flavour traveling down his throat, as he considered his fiancee.

He didn’t know what to make of her. She just seemed so meek and obedient, which wasn’t at all appealing. He didn’t remember much of her from before the arrangement, aside from vague interactions between them and the Kim siblings. She had seemed quite timid then too.

Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, setting his glass on his desk. He didn’t want to do this marriage. It was a chore, really.

Yoongi didn’t necessarily have anyone he was looking to marry, but having to pretend to be exclusive with some girl he didn’t care about wasn’t conducive to the bachelor lifestyle he’d cultivated. He’d set his ground rules, and she’d agreed, pretty easily, another thing that irked Yoongi.

Couldn’t she stand up for herself? Or say anything at all that was her own opinion?

Yoongi drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, he supposed she had said something that night. She’d wanted to be friends. He hadn’t been expecting that.

He figured it might be some condition about how she didn’t want to work or for him to stop seeing other people, but, instead, she’d simply asked for his friendship. And he’d refused.

Of course he did, it went against his other rule. He wanted to keep his life separate from this artificial marriage and that included remaining nothing but acquaintances. He’d have to be steadfast, he decided. That night, when he’d seen your imploring expression with hope shining in your eyes, he’d almost agreed. He wasn’t sure why that was, or if he even wanted to know, but he couldn’t let it happen again.

Despite your docile and unassuming nature, you were dangerous. And you didn’t seem to know it, which made you all the more so.

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huexuri · 4 months

Text

: how it's done (softdom!kai x fem!reader)

NSFW, MDNI!

(warnings: somnophilia (w consent ofc), softdom!kai , sub!reader, mutual masturbation, praise, dirty talk, tell me if there's more!)

note: didn't realize how much of a dirty talk kink i have .. ehm ehm tmi!!!! also ending was so rushed im sorry😔 i might do a second part lol

it's 2am and you've been scrolling on your phone for the past 3 hours. you promised yourself to sleep by 11pm and said goodnight to kai then. but ... just like last night, this night and probably the night after, you'll fuck up your sleep schedule more and more because you just can't seem to listen to yourself....

you'd think kai would be asleep by now because when he says goodnight, the next second he'd snooze off. so.... what better idea than to secretly snuggle with him to fall asleep? was what you thought to yourself as you dragged your sleep deprived ass to kai's room which was just the one across the hall from yours.

quietly entering his room, you slowly shut the door to not wake him up. the sight of kai fast asleep on his bed in that hoodie that you always stole from him and the same adidas sweatpants that he never seems to take off has you smiling like an idiot. the mountain of plushies on his bed, he looked so snuggled up, so comfortable, so adorable.

discreetly, you crawled on the bed beside him and snuggled yourself in his embrace, making him spoon you. shuffling around to find a comfortable position, you wrapped your legs around his and wrapped his arm around you. you think you probably woke him up because you felt him pull you in tighter, but you weren't complaining, and as you expected.. you fell asleep before you knew it.

that doesn't last long though, as you woke up about 5 hours later to the feeling of kai right behind you with.... well, his erection that's poking against your ass with slow, light irregular thrusts. definitely not the first thing that you thought would greet you in the morning... you assumed he probably had a wet dream because when you turned around to look at him, he was fast asleep, his eyes beautifully shut. you tried your hardest not to move, because the feeling of his hard on rubbing against your clothed core has you aroused as hell and you didn't want it to stop. your panties were wet before you even realized it, not to mention the little moans that unconsciously rolled off his tongue. it was enough for your clit to be swollen even when he isn't touching you..

but like the needy girl you are for kai, his thrusts weren't enough,,, so you lightly grabbed his hand, veiny and giant, and guided it down to beneath your panties. the touch of his cold fingers on your raw, aching clit had you basically throbbing for more. it even had your nipples perk up. guiding his long fingers up and down.. the wet squelching sounds that echoed throughout his quiet room filling the white noise... you thrusted one of his fingers in you, and you couldn't help the soft moans that you occasionally let out. still, you hoped he wouldn't wake up to you in such a desperate position like this. so fucking needy and horny, only for kai.

of course he would realize that you're using him to fuck yourself. you noticed that, when his thrusts become more and more controlled and he starts to finger you by himself. that's when you know that you fucked up, he saw how embarrassingly wanting you are just so he could touch you.. couldn't even wait until he woke up, huh?

"k-kai..?" you breathed out.

he didn't answer, all you felt was a grin against your ear and his fingers seemingly having a mind of it's own, rubbing you up and down, thrusting in and out of you. you didn't even have to guide him anymore. you even stopped helping eventually because you were focused on gripping the sheets to suppress your longing moans just so you wouldn't embarrass yourself further.

"couldn't wait, baby?" kai murmured, his erection getting harder and pressing up your clit as his eyes fluttered open.

"kai... i-i'm really sorry... i couldn't resist when you started thrusting against me... mmh—"

kai doesn't answer again, as he pulled his fingers out and pried open your mouth with the same fingers full of your slick. you sucked his long fingers clean, tasting yourself on him.

"don't worry, love.. it's okay, but i'll still have to make you make up for it, isn't that right?" kai whispered with a grin in your ear, his hot breath fanning over your face and his deep morning voice clearly apparent.

you could only mutter out a "mhm.." along with some moans in agreement to his words as his long fingers were still taking up all the space in your mouth. it didn't help that he was still rubbing against your clothed clit, making it hard to even mumble out any words. he nodded to your attempt at words and slid his fingers out out of you and licked it clean before stopping his thrusting, straddling over you and starting to kiss you all over.

he tugged at your waistband and slowly slid it off. you looked at him with a slightly concerned look because even if you knew he wouldn't be mad, you were still scared he would be. but immediately your worries calmed down when he gave you a reassuring smile and nod, confirming that he wouldn't do anything to remotely hurt you.

"it's cute to see how desperate you are when i do anything close to touching you... but you know you have to earn that touch, right?" kai said with a grin, full of lust in his eyes. with a tilt of his head, he lifted up your chin to look at you as he expected an answer.

"of course.. i should've asked you." you embarrassingly looked away as you exclaimed.

just when you thought kai was about to kiss you, he let go of your chin and stopped straddling you, instead sitting beside you on the bed and motioning you to sit up. you slowly pushed yourself up, and looked at him with confusion.

"i want to see you fuck yourself. if you can make yourself cum infront of me, you'll get the reward you deserve." kai said in the most lustful tone with an innocent smile on his face.. how the fuck does he even manage to... do that?? it was scary how fast you obeyed him and immediately took your panties off and threw it across the bed along with your shorts that he tugged off.

"aren't you going to... help?" you asked kai, as he usually would since his fingers are twice the length yours are... but you soon realize what he's demanding you to do after he rejects you.

"no, baby. that's why i wanna see you... i wanna see how you look when you masturbate. when i'm not around to help." he pointed towards your cunt with his chin, motioning you to go on with an expectant look.

"show me how it's done."

you nodded. your fingers started to find it's way towards your clit and soon enough, you were exposing your whole body to kai, toying with your nipple and groping your own breast with one hand and fingering yourself with the other. you were imagining how he'd fuck you breathless just like how you always did to get off whenever he wasn't around. you whimpered and moaned softly, moaning his name occasionally when you were desperate.

"don't you see h-how... good i'm.. fucking myself?.. a-all... ngh—all pretty for you.... the best girl j-just... for you.." was what you could moan out in hopes of driving him crazy.

seeing the look on kai's face when he stroked himself under his sweats from the words that left your lips... it totally worked. you truly know what you're doing to him.. and he loves it.

"k-kai.. i...i'm... s-shit—i'm gonna—" your hips started to stutter with your fingers inside you, you gripping your breast so hard it left a red mark, the knot in your stomach that slowly felt like unraveling, the feeling like all eyes were on you when it was only kai, you were close, so close, so fucking c—

"f-fuck!!!"

everything flashed white for a second, and it felt like something inside you exploded, and then your squirt was all over kai, his bedsheets, his shirt, his face....

before you even came to your senses, you could feel kai's arms wrap around you. he pulled away and started to pull down his sweats, leaving you to the sight of his dangling cock, tip blushing red and leaking with precum...

straddling you again, all he managed to mutter out..."that's my good girl... that's my good fucking girl. my god ... do you even know what you do to me? i'm gonna fuck you breathless, you don't even understand."

and you know he wasn't lying when he said that.

#xuri writes #hueningkai smut #txt hard thoughts #txt smut #hueningkai hard thoughts #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai hard hours

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yandere-kokeshi · 9 months

Text

— Phone addiction

Pairing: yandere hobie x female reader

Warnings: yandere behavior, sending nudes, phone sex, masturbation, sex toys, DOM! Hobie, and that's it. Lmk if I missed any.

NOT CHECKED FOR MISTAKES.

You've long since learned you're a phone addict. Even Hobie said so.

Usually, it's not a problem. But, sometimes it can be — especially now when it's 2am, on a Thursday night, away from your boyfriend due to a mission.

It's not that Hobie doesn't want to be around you. He does. He's just currently busy with Miguel - when he's here, he likes to cuddle against you, wrap his arms around you as the tips of his fingers trace shapes and words into your delicate skin like ink in tattoos.

Though, you couldn't help be on your phone. It helped distracted you. Especially with the throb between your legs. A sign of you missing him.

You were about to head off for the night, already plugging in your phone when you received a message from him.

Hobie: U up, dollface?

You eagerly replied, to which, he sent a innocent smile face before two images were attached to the message. At first, your finger hovered over the blurred images; wondering if it was cliché photos of him doing trouble at the office.

But when you clicked it, the surprise of his cock glistening in the bathroom dimmed lightning — outlining his precum and underlining veins, you couldn't help but let out a whimper.

The second photo was almost the same, but the image was slightly more blurred; his smirk and attractive wink gave you goosebumps down to your very core.

Before you could double tap to zoom in, a small buzz came through again. But instead of a photo, it was a video — 30 seconds long.

Gulping, you couldn't help but press it; watching how the video started out very blurry, his groans echoing through the quartz tiles in the semi-small bathroom before showing his face; his lip piercing shining in the light.

Before you know it, his luscious cock is back in view, his Jacob ladder being highlighted. His phone was set up behind the wall of sorts as his fingers grazed over his tip, smearing the precum — his eyes making direct eye contact with the screen before his hand starts to move up and down at a slow, teasing pace.

“Need ya' so much. God, it's hell away from you. Imagine how full you'd be if I was there.”

Your eyes were wide. Mouth going dry as you felt your throb become more unbearable. You were only 12 seconds in and you couldn't breathe.

Suddenly, at the top of your screen, your phone began to ring as Hobie's name began to ring; the familiar tune of his ringtone barely being able to play as you clicked the green button.

“hello?” you breathed into the phone, fumbling with the hem of your underwear as you wait for his voice.

“Eager, are we?”

Your eyes closed.

He chuckles at your silence. “Did ya' like it?” His voice drops at the question.

“Did I like it? Oh...” you take a short breath. “You knew exactly what you were doin', huh?”

While saying that, you let your fingers travel down — cupping your breasts in your hands, tugging at your harden nipples before sliding your fingers inside the hem of your panties, circling your clit enough to bite your lip. It hadn't been as second before you'd slip a finger inside you, not enough friction that Hobie's fingers would do.

“You' playin' with yourself, ain't' ya?”

You smiled. He could feel it if he wanted too.

“Maybe I am,” you admit. Your face feels like it's on fire and you move the phone a bit– you pull your finger halfway out of you before diving back in, the wet sounds being obvious even through the phone. Hobie makes a groan, a whistle through his teeth – but he manages to keep his tone teasing as he says:

“Is that what I think?” he clicks his tongue, almost in a mockingly disappointment way, “Ya' so naughty, luv'”

“What are you doing now?” you ask, and he laughs. You hear the noise of something slick and wet. The image of him pumping his erect cock flew into your brain — making you swallow the obvious moan trapped in your throat. You miss his piercings.

“I think you can guess, doll. You're smart enough, ain't ya'?” he ends with a light laugh.

“D'you miss me that much?” you ask, sliding a second finger inside yourself, relishing the feel of the slick stretch and your tight walls.

“More words than I can say,” he breathes. “I'd fuckin' kill to have ya' right now. My hands don't feel the same as yours.”

“My fingers certainly don't reach as far as yours,” you admit, breathlessly. By the fact you're so aroused, you know he must be able to hear your fingers sliding out of you.

“Get yur' toy,” he demands. His voice dropped a semitone; low, and commanding. Usually, he's fine with whatever. But, as of right now, you can tell he misses you. So dearly.

Especially since he loved being in control at the moment. “Ya' know, the big pink one? The one I made for your—”

You let out a small squeal, pulling your fingers out with a slick pop!

You fumbled out of bed, getting on your knees, and opened your bottom drawer as quickly as possible — eyeing all the big collection of sex toys you've collected all the months together. But, you grabbed the one he so liked, especially the one he specifically built from scratch; the one he could control from his phone.

“I've got it,” you breathed. You got back into a comfy place on your bed, sliding your underwear and shirt off before hearing Hobie make a pleased hum in the back of his throat.

“Get it all nice and wet like a good girl,” he comments. Even though he can't see you, the squirts of your spit turned him on even more — imagining the way you're opening your mouth, gently licking it as if it's his own cock.

You make a conscious effort not to quiet your noises but instead make it extra sloppy; make sure he misses you deeply.

It's a messy blow job, that's for sure, but all Hobie has is the audio of the phone call and his imagination of you drooling around the toy are much sexier than him fucking you in alleyway.

Judging from Hobie's reaction — the groaning on the other end, the ragged sighs, and curses slightly cut out — your efforts are not in vain.

“Good job, princess,” he says as if he can see you when you manage to deep-throat the whole thing. “Think it's wet enough, tell me how you're f-eeling, hm?”

His light stuttering is endearing. You can imagine how he looks: him stroking his cock, balancing his weight as his thumb glides over his slit, swirling his pre-cum over his tip.

“I'm so wet-” you whimper through the phone, “I'm gonna die if I don't get this toy inside of me soon—”

“fuck,” he interrupts. “Wish it was me, doll.”

“Me too,” you admit as well. “But, this toy will do; especially since you're the one controlling it—”

“—I'll fuck ya' till you can't walk when I'm back home, gorgeous. I promise.”

There's a steely undercurrent to Hobie's words that do not leave you doubting at any second. “—bring the toy to my cunt.”

You follow his instructions, suddenly feeling it start to vibrate at its first setting — making you shiver at the sensations of the wet tip as it leaves a trail of your own saliva.

“Touch ya' tits, if I was there - I'd kiss and bite them until they're aching and sore. Give em' a pinch, dollface—”

The hand that's not currently holding the toy placed your phone on the bed, making sure it's on speakerphone before listening to his instructions — the sound of his low voice giving you orders and commands seems to intensify the ache of threshold as you pinch your nipples, almost as hard as they hurt. As you squeeze the fat and heavy weight of your breasts, you wish it was his; his fingertips and big fingers teasing you, his tongue going over your areolas, the feeling of his tongue piercing has you rolling your eyes.

His hands are naturally rough, always sliding down to the underside of your breast before gripping your tits like instruments – you whisper aloud as you skim your sensitive skin, your nipples already sore points as Hobie says;

“The toy, sweetheart. Rub it through my cunt for me, need to hear how wet ya' are.”

It does, indeed, make an indecent noise as the dildo parts your slick folds. You're drenched.

“Shit‐” he groans. “You're dripping, ain't ya?”

You mhmed to his comment, before moaning out; choking out as the smooth head vibrates over your swollen clit. Fuck, you wanted it inside you so bad. He hasn't told you to put it in — you listen, obediently.

“Wish you were here, Hobie—”

“—Me too.” He reassures you. “Need ya' hands on me, need your pretty pussy. Need you to squeeze around me and let me fuck you till oblivion.” as he speaks, you can hear a growl erupting from his throat – you imagine his hand getting faster on his cock.

Your thighs started trembling. Your wetness dribbling down the mess of your thighs.

“Hobie—” You whine, again, his words not helping the aching flame in your lower stomach and need for release. “Need the cock inside me, need it—”

“Shhh,” he breathes, “Put it in. Imagine it's me filling your pretty pussy up.”

All you can do is muster a whine and a nod you know he'll never see. You almost feel too greedy about pressing it in all one swoop — but you obey. Like a good girl. You feel the wider flare of the head open you up, easing it in while enjoying the lust filled burning.

It feels better than your fingers — it hits you deeper, wider, fuller. The muscles of your thighs contract as your put your feet on the bed, keeping your legs parted but enough too close for closure on comfort.

“is it in?” he asks before you whimper and mumble a small yes. “How does it feel?”

“Not as g-ood as y-you.”

You win a chuckle before he earns a yelp from you — the vibrations curling up to the third level.

“Oh, I know. But it's the best thing we have, yes? You full? It good? You're winning the battle of making one of us cum first.”

You moaned out, your head tilting back a bit before cursing out.

“you'll make it up for me. I know you will. Like a good girl. Why don't you fuck yourself on it? I wanna hear you come, doll. I know you can.”

You don't need to be told twice. You pull the toy out, biting your lip as you immediately thrust it back in, establishing a rhythm that goes along with its speed. Hobie, on the other side, takes his time. He teases you – stopping the speed, then climbing it back up before turning it off together. Making you fuck yourself with it. He has you at his mercy, making you beg him for it to be faster and faster — until tears come down.

You let out noises of you fucking yourself on the fake cock echo throughout the empty-ish room. The curved spot of the dildo hits you just right with every desperate flex and thrust of your wrists.

Though, Hobie heard you gasping, moaning out his name — and in return, you heard him along. You hear his hands on his shaft, whispering your name in turn, along with filthy things about how tight you always are for him and how you're the best, his good girl, and how he's gonna fuck you into next week when he sees you. He needs your cunt around his cock right fuckin' now.

You couldn't control yourself. The hand that wasn't controlling the toy went down to the puffy lips of your sex, playing with your clit as you fuck yourself with the dildo.

Circling the bundle of nerves, beginning to rub in earnest, needing direct stimulation. The pad of your finger wasn't rough enough. Wasn't large or calloused like Hobie's. But in tandem with the shaft of buildup plunging inside of your walls, you couldn't help but moan out loud.

“Hobie!” You pant, turning your head so that your cheek is pressed against the pillow. “M' close! I'm so close—”

“fuck,” he cursed, making you hear the slick noises get faster, almost impossibly so. “Shit, fuck. I want you to cum for me, luv'. Lemme hear yur' pretty voice.”

Your eyes fluttered closed, moaning more as the toy got faster, its speed turning its 5th gear; your all-time favorite.

A vision of Hobie flashes into your mind: his dark, clouded hair slightly slicked back with sweat, his shoulders tensed and so broad, his eyes glittering so dangerously as his teeth dig into his plump bottom lip. You recall the sound of his deep voice telling you to cum.

The twirling tornado of the heat inside you seems to all converge on a single point between your thighs. The ache in both of your wrists seems to dissipate entirely as the point explodes into a thousand pieces; a tsunami swallowing you whole as it crashes a peaceful shore.

You wail out Hobie's name, cresting the giant wave of pleasure as he grunts out your own; his white essence landing all over his stomach and the wall in front of him.

You lay there with the toy still buried in, now at its lowest setting – still going inside at your already-sensitive walls; making you ride out all the trembling aftershocks. Your leg seizes up but quickly drops to the mattress.

Breathing was hard. The aftershocks of pleasure were making you all double-vision. You're simply laying there, a boneless, useless mess who couldn't catch a break.

Hobie's breathing is stuttered, and you can't help but feel thrills going through at the knowledge that you always get to be the one with Hobie's cool composure. Your fingers ache, a good ache beneath the sheets.

“Still with me, baby?” Hobie's voice comes after the two of you spend a few minutes simply breathing deep and satisfying noises with each other. “I'll be home as soon as I can. Can't wait to see ya'”

“Me too,” you murmur, barely able to finish the sentence without huffing in defeat. Though, a smile on your face creeps on your face – leaking through the phone.

“Send me a picture, luv. Get yur' beauty sleep, see you tomorrow.”

—

My Masterlist :)

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mandukkul · 10 months

Text

TEENAGE ANGST — n. rk

synopsis: you’re suppose to spend yet another birthday alone wallowing in teenage angst, but someone steps in and breaks the cycle

tags: non!idol!riki x f!reader, comfort, angst (not too much i think), a bit of fluff, maybe coming of age

warnings: riki doesn’t appear until like 1/3 into the oneshot, NOT PROOFREAD!!! cursing, angst (i think), spelling and grammatical errors (i wrote tbis at 2am and finshed it at 3 leave me alone), lots and lots of mis-capitalisations, tense errors probably, teenage angst 😰 , let me know if there are any more

word count: 4.7k

published: 13 July

authors note: first writing piece on here, my birthday is on september 8th but i wrote this maybe back in may

You think as a teenager, the worst thing that could affect you was teenage angst. but for you, it would probably be the least of your problems. Instead wallowing like every other teenager before you, locked deep into their rooms never to see the sun until they were 20, you decide it’s better to fix your problem with a day out.

you’re going to be better than what the stereotype says. I mean who’s better at swimming in your own self pity than yourself of course. Even if your parents had decided that travelling abroad for months on end as a job was better than staying at home in the giant house they bought to live as a family, or leave a teenager alone instead of bringing her along, you won’t let it bother you like it did the previous years.

Although you couldn’t feel bad, your parents were dreaming big, even if you became merely a side thought in that dream. Any teenager would live blissfully with all the materials you had. It was truly a dream, but a dream can only become reality if you make it.

You’re not going to think so negatively and say that people around you would rather see you burn than to see you happy, even though that’s exactly what you’re saying.

You’re a kid with everything you want, but surrounded by other kids who are and have basically the same as you, only with parents in the picture, you’re at bare minimum on the grand scale of things.

To live your life with no one by your side, unless you count the people who dislike you at school, is harder than you think.

But you’ve lived your life like this far too long to complain, it’s been routine to be left alone. only now, the difference is that your birthday was today.

spending what most would say a precious day, in a house so hollow you’d think it was abandoned isn’t exactly ideal. Being alone could only add to your ever growing list of reasons to angst over. not even you, who seemed accustomed to this trend, would want to be reminded of how alone— lonely— you are.

so to attempt to turn a new leaf, you urge yourself to spend it differently, you told yourself. straying from your normally secretive emo self, you decide that traveling to the next suburb ,since you heard about a new promotion of the manga you liked being released in a cafe in said suburb, was a good way to ignore your ever piling problems of self-destructive tendencies.

but oh how the world is against you, even if it is your birthday.

The bus suddenly needs to take a detour to a different area you’re not too familiar with, then declares that the route must be canceled due to complications leaving you stranded in the middle of butt fuck nowhere. When checking your phone to find where you are, you see that you are not only an hour walk away from your house, but your phone is standing on its last legs with a messily 20%.

To test your limits further, the sky starts to cry the moment you’re just far enough from your house that running back would do more harm than good.

you quickly scope your area, finding that there are no parks in the vicinity to offer mercy from the rain, and the closest shelter is either 20 minutes forward to the bus stop or the array of trees planted along the side wall as decorations.

you way your options, and take the tree closest to you as refuge. you’re glad the area you’ve wandered to is littered with them, even better that they're thick enough to offer some kind of protection.

minutes passed and the rain hasn’t let up, going at the same harsh rate it has been going at for the past 10 minutes. your clothes, so obviously drenched, weighs you down causing your minimal moves to become sluggish (or maybe it’s the premonition of sickness approaching).

the trees hang low with despair, mimicking your very attitude. rain licks your face, and you can’t tell whether your tears finally made its greeting or it’s rain getting into your eyes.

you start to ponder whether running to the back home would be a better idea than your lovely tree, the idea of escaping your rain soaked clothes seeming like a dream as of right now, a dream escaping you the longer you wait.

you test your already bad luck, because god so obviously has a vendetta against you, deciding your next best option was to end your little escapade and head back home in the rain.

Barely ten minutes in, with wet sneakers splashing into deep puddles and your clothes glued to you like second skin, the rain starts to roar, angered by your decision apparently.

your vision can’t help but blur due to the heavy rain clouding your sight, and the hair that stubbornly sticks itself into your forehead and subsequently, your eyes. it’s hazy and you can barely make out the road in front of you, you’re glad the path ahead of you is empty and that you’ve arrived in a more familiar area.

I guess not even you can escape the clutches of teenage angst, slowing your strides and accepting your fate.

you think how stupid and cliche you look walking in the rain with a frown. Your feet dragging, now feeling the effects of almost an hour in the rain, and on your birthday of all days. The only thing to complete your look was loud sad emo music.

stopping in your tracks, letting the rain do what it wants, you begin to think back to what you must’ve done to anger god so much.

you shut your eyes for just a moment, to shield yourself from rain trying to attack your eyes, but the rain suddenly stops, or more accurately, something is blocking the rain from you. you begin to hear the pitter patter of rain against an umbrella and just for a moment, you think god has found pity in your wallow and granted you mercy. When opening your eyes, low and behold, a black umbrella meets your face.

oh and there’s Riki, or what he likes to be called, Niki, standing in front of you, holding the umbrella over your head acting as your current saviour.

so much for God's mercy.

If your day wasn’t already so bad, you’d say that seeing niki would be the worst part of your day. Unfortunately for you though, it was the best.

you and niki have never been on the same page, ever since he ‘accidentally’ bumped into you while you were in an empty hall. you had given him many chances to be nice to you, or atleast apologise, but as days passed from the first meeting, all you’ve received was strange stares you know all too well. When confronting him, all he could do is ignore you and or play dumb. This interaction had left a massive rift between the two of you, and being a not so popular kid in highschool compared to the ‘king of dance’ was not a good look.

“why are you trying to be a main character” is the last voice you want to hear from, especially on this joke of a birthday. you crane your neck slightly, meeting face to face with the face you hate (and hate to say is extremely easy on the eyes). “why are you trying to stop my main character moment” you shoot back with equally as much snark, but it comes off weak as you underestimated the sound of rain.

Niki looks down at you with the same glint in his eye you dislike, not because it was a judgmental one, but one of mystery because you can never guess what he’s thinking. “sorry sorry, should i let you get back to that” he removes the umbrella from above you but you make no attempt to stop him.

the rain embraces you once again, as harsh it was moments ago. you state a niki again, his dry figure under the comfort of his darken umbrella, staring at you who seemed to be physically separated from him.

talk about rift.

you’ve never noticed how far you were from niki, in a metaphorical sense. Niki had everything you had, and more. He had people to talk to, hang out with, care about and care for. He too, probably went through his fair share of teenage angst, but you think to yourself that this is the first (and only) win.

he sees this and halts his movement, examining your figure deeply. you seem tired. along with the wet suit you’re wearing, and unruly hair dripping at its tips, you look far different to how you present yourself at school. nonchalant and cool, an enigmatic girl who seems to always be out of everyone’s business but as of now, you look (in the nicest way possible) like a train wreck.

“Are you taking joy out of watching me wallow?” you scoff, staring at him with a distasteful eye, “i’m not a sadist” he jokes but he’s the only one who’s smiling.

he coughs to clear his throat, or maybe the awkward atmosphere, you’re too tired to care. you watch as he moves the umbrella back under you, “why are you standing in the rain anyways?” he questions.

“m trying to get home” you whisper loud enough to beat the rain, looking at Niki who’s features seem to fuzz up the more you blink.

“don’t you live 3 streets away?” he adds, you only nodding in response.

your movements are suddenly too sluggish to call lazy, the effects of an hour in the rain finally hitting you.

“aren’t your parents worried?”

probably

“my parents are overseas,” you mumble as he nods knowingly, having his fair shares of travelling parents, although he has his sisters to accompany him, “and i don’t feel like spending my day alone”

birthday

you think how this is the first real conversation you’ve had with niki, ever since your first encounter. Normally you’d stray away from him, so much as look in your direction, you’re off to avoid further conflict and instead plan a faux argument comeback for if the day ever arrives.

you rub your eye to rid the haze that had gotten worse, along with the bodily ache and pounding head.

niki notices, he always notices you. seeing you off in your own world from a distance.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his tone laced with concern, or at least that's what you think. He moves his hand to wipe some hair out of your face, attempting to help with your irritable eyes.

Despite the cold weather, you’re hot to the touch.

“oh shit, you’re burning up” he goes into mother mode as he touches your forehead, seeing as that’s what his sister and mother do when he has his own fever. you mumble an incoherent response, you’re not sure what you said either.

“I should get home then” you mumble, stepping away from safety and into the rain. He goes to stop you, but the moment you move you’re in shambles, collapsing into his arms like some damsel in distress.

oh fuck

…

sometimes you think to yourself, what did you do to end up here? and when i mean here, i don’t mean the literal sense, i mean the place you are in life, because for you, all you seem to do is piss of whoever’s writing your story, because why else would you be living such a shitty (but not enough to outwardly complain) life.

The second you wake up in bed was your first red flag. the sheets a bluish grey, far different from your own floral white ones. The bed is softer, and the quilt more warm, but that might just be from the sheer exhaustion you exhibited some time ago.

The next flag was the scary tall silhouette you see entering the room, holding what looks like a black plastic bag filled with various things.

riki looks much more intimidating when all you can make out is his outline.

the moment he turns around from shutting the door, he sees your eyes staring at him and the previous blank expression he wore changes into a face of concern.

“oh you’re awake” he scrambles words together as he stalks up to for bedside, placing the plastic bag beside him as he examines your condition like some kind of doctor.

“clearly” you croak, and you find out that your voice is extremely hoarse (and sore).

“try not to speak, i think you have a fever from standing under the rain” he deduces but you can’t help but scoff, “gee, who would’ve guessed”.

the sick you are even snarky than normal you.

Niki chuckles at your comment as he shuffles around the plastic bag for a bottle of water and what looks like painkillers.

you shift your head to watch him as he assorts the medicine and water onto the bedside table, pulling out a small mandarin to complete the collection.

“What's with the orange?” you whisper, trying to not use your voice too much, “vitamin c” he answers simply and you can’t help but laugh at him.

you manoeuvre into a sitting position to take what he’s giving you, ignoring the pain striking your head as you do so.

as you pop pills and chug water, you continue to scan the room. It's pretty boring, with a table with a few pieces of stationary, and a shelf with some personal touches.

Niki sees you’re so obviously inspecting the room, and coughs up an answer.

“oh umm- sorry. i didn’t know where you lived and you had passed out and i panicked and brought you to my house” he explains. that explains the strange surroundings. you’re in his room.

you think about how different his room is to what you originally assumed. no trophies, or obnoxious posters. a very standard and boring room for someone so rich.

his voice snaps you out of your thoughts, “i’ll leave you to rest” he starts to get up and you don’t know what has gotten over you, but the moment you see him shift away, you grasp his wrist urging his attention back on you.

he stares at you intently, as if he’d listen to the hours of silence you’d make if you chose to.

under his scrutinising gaze, you can’t help but avert your gaze. “I don't want to spend my birthday alone” you unconsciously mumble and you feel pathetic as you hear the words leave your mouth.

a raging silence fills the room, and your own anxiety gets the best of you as you loosen your grip around his wrist.

the moment he longer feels your fingers against him, he reaches for you back which surely catches your attention.

you never had a real interaction with the boy, especially due to the circumstances you (or him) were put through but your distaste for him wasn't baseless, even if your heart felt different.

Speaking about heart, it was pounding so loudly against your chest, you could’ve sworn Niki would dance to it.

“It's your birthday?” he’s grip on your hand is gentle, almost delicate as if you’d crack under the pressure of his touch. you nod softly, not facing him but you can tell what he’s thinking.

you probably seem more like a loser than you already are, you feel like that at least.

Riki nods his head, gently as to let your eyes follow enough not to be bothered by such movements. He repositions himself beside his own bed, hand still attached to yours.

you try everything in your power to ignore his riveting gaze, but the awkwardness is much louder than the silence itself.

you ponder to yourself, if this birthday was one of your best ones or the worse. you silently compare back to when you were six, and everyone and their friends were there. your parents seemed less concerned with otherworldly matters and you focused on nothing but the people around you.

That was the last time you felt noticed.

teenage angst must’ve hit you really early, huh?

then, back to just 14, where it was yet another year alone, with no one at school knowing who you are (yet because the moment you meet riki everything had a turn for the one worse), your parents at god knows where, living their best business lives, and this is your first time spending your birthday alone (first of a few).

you think how empty your house was, how dark and voided it felt, feeding into your ever growing reasons to angst.

and now you think of now, despite being ill with a rising fever, you don’t feel as bad as you did back then. you can’t tell if it’s just your delirious mind putting it’s fair share of delusional thoughts into you, or it’s just because you haven’t had company in so long. but the hand wrapped around yours, and the feeling of someone (even if it’s the ever so terrible niki) next you that made you smile.

“What are you smiling about? Are you going through shock?” niki’s voice is a mixture of playfulness and concern, because even if the chances of you suddenly falling into a seizure is low, it isn’t zero.

your eyes trail to him, but not to his eyes, you wouldn’t dare look straight at him.

“I thought it was going to be another bad birthday” you shrug, and you can’t for the life of you, wipe off your smile, not now because Riki finds it in himself to squeeze your hand.

you expect another remark, because that’s all your conversations seem to be (from the single one you’ve just had earlier) but nothing of the sort came, instead, from the corner of your eyes, you see him smile.

the nicest type of smile, with his boxy edges, and eyes squeezing softly.

if you weren’t looking at him before, you are now.

“I'm glad” that’s all he says, and your heart clenches at something that isn’t depression and anxiety.

The overwhelming feeling of awkwardness has long dissipated and has been replaced with something else.

something new.

you stare intently into his eyes, moreso, he does and you are compelled to look back. He's searching for something, in the darkness of the room it seems like.

you can barely make out his features, soft eyes, and sharp jaw. his hair perfectly framing his face, to much of your distaste, and is slightly damp probably from just getting back from wherever he went.

you wonder what’s going inside that head of his, while staring so intently at you, dissecting every little part of you. does he notice the droop of your eyes, how tired you look, how pale your skin has gotten from days locked in your room, how your cheeks never flushed with life yet was always plush to the touch (probably from all the instant food you’ve consumed)

does he notice the teenage angst you wallow in, him probably going through the same trivial problems as you.

“Sorry you have to spend your weekend with me” you whisper, thinking about all the other things the “king of dance” could be doing instead of nurturing you back to health.

He’d probably be out with heeseung or jake at the local gaming cafe, laughing and playing. He was probably on his way there if not for running into you.

you don’t break eye contact so you see how his eyes double in size, quick to shake his head, your own aching from following his movements. “hey don’t say that” he scolds you, taking his other hand to caress yours.

How intimate does he get?

your skin burns from his touch, and not because your fever is bordering on 39° C. Your eyes tear away, too much of your brains disliking because, even if you dislike him, he’s very nice to look at.

“no one deserves to spend their birthday alone” and he may be right, but your own angsty self could beg to differ.

because with the cards dealt to you, and the way you’ve treated the world (because how it treated you) there’s no doubt there’s a love hate (mostly hate) relationship going on between you and life.

“Even more, now that you’re sick” he adds on, rubbing circles to the back of your hand and you feel comfort for the first time in a while.

“i guess even someone who hates me can be nice, huh?” you didn't mean to say that out loud, but your quiet voice is too intertwined with your head voice, mixed with the fact that you’re terribly sick, couldn’t tell the difference.

he stares at you quizzingly, as if you’ve said something so utterly absurd it’s left him speechless.

“i don’t hate you”

those words catch you off guard. because the words “don't” and “hate” have never been uttered on the same line with “you” following after it.

you stay silent. it’s your birthday so of course he wouldn’t uprightly say it to your face.

“Do you hate me?”

he asks and you take a moment to ponder, about the strange stairs he’s given you, and the amount of times he’s ignored you piled with how everyone at school seems to stray away from you.

you only hate him because he hates you

“i only hated you because you hate me”

niki is left truly speechless (in a metaphorical sense), and his jaw is literally cracked wide.

“what?!? I don't hate you! god! i could never hate you”

like a cringey teenage cliche, you bite your lip holding back an unwanted grin.

“don’t say the lord's name in vain” you mutter to make light of the situation.

not having friends didn't mean you weren’t socially inept.

Your dry chuckle is the only sound left in the room, other than the pattering of rain. riki can’t help but frown at the news he just heard.

“i’ve never hated you, not for a second” he looks at you as if he’s trying to convince you, telling you that all your internalised monologues were for nothing, “i just thought… since you were so stand-off-ish, that you just didn't like me” you shrug, averting from his gaze.

words pour out of you like vomit and you can no longer keep up your enigmatic cool girl facade, not now that you’re sick.

“not many people like me, so i assume you hate me jusy as much, and well, if you hated me, i figured i should hate you back”

and you did, well you tried to at least. but in moments like these; where niki holds your hand as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive, where his eyes never leave your lips because he’s so set on remembering every little detail you say, afraid your words will be lost to tone. you can’t help but not hate him at all, noy one bit.

“how could i hate you when you’re just so perfect” he whispers, almost like a confession.

actually he did confess. to you. right now.

you owlishly blink, and suddenly think that your beating heart is more serious than your fever.

you try to snatch your hand away from him, in embarrassment of him feeling how hot you feel, with the tips of your ears flaming red.

with your averted gaze, it’s not like you can see that his neck has a creeping speck of hot red as well as his cheeks, ears, and everything on him.

He's so glad it’s dark right now.

“you can’t just say that, riki” it’s the first time you’ve said his name.

his name out of your mouth, your tongue, your lips.

He wants to hear it again.

“Why not?” he eggs, leaning closer despite the strange territory they’ve suddenly entered.

“Some people might get the wrong idea” and by some, you mean yourself because even with the minimal things you know about the boy next to you, your heart is fluttering like crazy it makes you want to vomit.

“But I'm not lying, you’re so perfect” Riki reiterates, “you’re so perfect, i’m afraid to even talk to you, or look at you, even be around you” he rambled at the amount of failed attempts to talk to you, caused by his shyness.

so… everytime you tried to talk to him, walked near him, caught him staring, it was all because of some silly crush?

and now you feel stupid, ontop of your crippling angst, you’ve failed at teenage romance.

letting out a frustrating sigh, so heavy you might even blow the poor boy away, you drop down ontop your back and whine.

he’s shocked for a moment, watching you wail with your hands covering your face.

he finds you so cute, his stomach might because an olympic gymnast at this point.

riki crawls closer to you, kneeling onto his knees as he gently pries your hand away from your face. “I feel so stupid” you can’t help but utter, eyes shut to avoid his eyes.

riki grins, leaning closer (not that you could see), “the smartest girl at school? Feeling stupid? That's a first” he jokes and you unintentionally snort out a laugh, “i’m not the smartest” you instantly shoot back, slowly opening your eyes.

“oh but you are, you’re smart, and beautiful, and mysterious and witty and-“ you rip your hand from his grip to cover his mouth, any more and your ego will start to inflate and be as big as Sunghoon’s. “aish, stop that

'' You laugh, and you can hear him giggling along.

“But why? can’t i tell the girl i like how amazingly perfect she is?”

the girl he likes…

the.

girl

likes

IS YOU?

“you like me…” you gape, maybe you are socially inept, or at least, romantically.

riki laughs, and a hearty one at that. the type of laugh that comes straight from the stomach. “how could anyone not?” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

like the teenage girl you are, you can’t help but feel bubbly and giddy, like the princess in some lame disney movie being swept off her feet by a guy who’s probably way too old for her (funny seeing that riki’s younger than you).

Then guilt hits you. as much as you want to revel in this blissful joy, you know nothing about riki, and you spent so long hating on him in your head to suddenly switch up.

“I know nothing about you though…” you break the news to him, “i mean, we technically just had our first real conversation”.

riki can’t help but smile, even if he’s just been indirectly rejected, your gentleness in letting him down makes him swoon even more.

“we can get to know each other then” he declares, smiling down at you.

“But are you willing to wait?” your eyes fill with anticipation, hoping for the best (it is your birthday after all), and wonder for the first time in forever, smiling from ear to ear.

“for you, i’d wait a thousand years”

if what he said before wasn't swoon worthy, this definitely was.

you feel like one of his silly fangirls that wait outside of class, giggling at his stupid smile but this time, you know you’re the cause of it.

“Are you going to start singing Christina Aguilera now?” you joke, giggling quietly to yourself. “I mean you should, since it’s my birthday after all” oh what a good birthday it was.

“anything for my birthday girl” Seeing your smile stretch for the first time, he hopes he’d be seeing that everyday in the near future.

Riki looks at you, for what feels like the millionth time. He really looks at you, like he did at school, like he did on the street in the rain, and like he does now.

and he thinks to himself:

yeah, I can definitely wait.

authors note pt.2: as you can see i write a lot for riki (my bias) mostly because i have so many wips that i s decided to release 🤭 might accept request who knows. also if you have any tips on how to write or do a layout please pm!!!!

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ghost-with-a-teacup · 1 year

Text

𝟐𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 ~ 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 '𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭' 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: Everyone has their own coping mechanisms when dealing with stress, their way of simply forgetting whatever was happening in their life, at least for a moment. Yours happened to come in the form of baking in the late hours of the night as you tried to ignore your worries for Simon as he was on his mission.

You bake at 2AM as you wait for Simon to come home.

Warnings: None! Only the fluffiest of fluff, you know the drill.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Notes: This definitely didn't come to mind as I myself was baking at 2AM, no! Never! (side note, the cookies and cinnamon rolls came out great, hehe). Anyway hi, this is my first time writing for Simon, recently fell down the COD rabbit hole and all so apologies if anything is off. Aside from that, this is just a short lil fic that started off as a headcanon that spiralled out of control. Happy reading my lovelies!

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You're up late at night, again. Not that you could help it, thoughts were flying through your head at just about a million miles per minute. About how worried you are about Simon on his mission, about what could have happened to him, if he was uninjured, healthy, safe. It was like this every time he had a mission, and yet every time it became no less difficult. Being a part of an elite task force was an honour yes, but with honour comes the dangers of being placed on the most difficult of missions. And while even though you were at home, safe and sound, it scared you, the unknowing of what could happen to him. But more than that, you missed him. More than anything.

So to get your mind off of all the 'what-ifs' in your head, you bake. All sorts of things, cinnamon buns, apple pie, those lemon crinkle cookies you knew Simon adored so much. Following a recipe step by step to ensure a lovely end product managed to distract you at least for a bit, until you were left to your own devices once more after it was done. But it acted as salvation while it lasted, allowing an escape from the dark corners of your mind.

✧

Music fills the kitchen as you hum along, measuring and mixing ingredients as you swayed to the beat.

Your focus is entirely on what's in front of you, the task was for getting your mind off of Simon after all, so unbeknownst to you the door opens as the one person you were trying to distract yourself from comes home.

He walks in almost silently, there was a reason his callsign was Ghost, and drops his gear down by the entrance to go in search of you. It wasn't difficult, the lights acting as a pathway straight to where you were, the music going along with it. Stepping quietly, Simon makes his way over to the kitchen and for a moment he just stands leaning on the doorframe watching you flit about. An impossible fondness fills his eyes and chest as he does, you being so in you element always left him feeling that way. You doing anything really with him being there to witness it, because it means that he's finally home, at long last. But any place he could call home, so long as you were a part of it.

Once you finally stood still for a bit, mixing a part of the recipe, Simon makes his way over to you. Without a word he wraps his arms around your waist as you let out a gasp of surprise, tensing for a moment at the unexpectedness before relaxing once more as you realize who it is. In an instant the bowl is forgotten as you turn in his arms.

"Simon," you say softly, a smile overtaking your features as you return his embrace.

"Darling," he says, tone matching yours as he gazes into your eyes.

Nothing more needed to be said, he was home, and that was enough.

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Notes: And done! Just a really short fic, I think maybe even the shortest I've ever written, but sweet nonetheless. I hope you enjoyed!

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost x female reader #ghost x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty mw2 #call of duty mwii #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x you

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its-time-to-write · 11 months

Note

Thank you so much for the response to my request <3. the fic was better then I could have hoped!!!!

I have a new request (but feel free to focus on the story themes you were wanting to do!), I have been really wanting to see a Jamie fic where he takes care of sick reader. Could be period or illness (no preference) and Jamie has no idea how to help but tries his best. I think its a cute idea

Can't wait to read more of your fics!

Thank you so much for requesting!! Literally love when people ask me to write things. Also, apparently everyone loves a sickfic because my other one has the most notes of everything I’ve written. Anyway, here’s your fic!

there’s orange juice in the kitchen

You are not sure of much, but you know one thing: you’re in pain. It’s 2am, and you’ve gotten a grand total of two hours of sleep. You’ve given up on laying in your bed and have filled up your bath with hot water, bubbles, and bath salts. Lots of bath salts. Your abdomen feels like it’s shredding itself and you suppose, technically speaking, it is. You’re just relieved that tomorrow is the weekend and you don’t have to slog through a work day, white-knuckling these absolutely ripping period cramps.

You don’t have regular periods like, ever, and your doctor’s concerned about your fertility. You remember waving it off with the statement, “That’s a problem for another day.” Thing is, that was just a cop-out. You didn’t want to think about it for a single second because then it would become real, and you make it a personal point never to complain about a period no matter how brutal it is because at least it’s something and never mind that your last one was four months ago, you’re ok. You have a good life and good people and you’re fine.

It’s just the principle, you know? The desire of choice.

The hormones don’t help either.

But anyway, you’re in your tiny bath trying to soothe the pain you’re in, trying to make yourself tired enough to fall asleep once you get out. You breathe, in, out. In, out.

You’re up till 6am when you finally doze off.

—

You wake up in a sweaty haze. You’re in soft pants and a large t-shirt, on top of your sheets rather than in them. You reach for your phone then pull your legs in with a sharp gasp. You’re still in pain.

It subsides so you reach again and check the time. 9:01. You groan. Three hours of dubious sleep is not enough. You have a missed text from Sam (remind me which brand of kitchenware you use?) two missed texts from Keeley (look at this absolutely adorable puppy! Attached: 1 Image), and a missed call from Jamie.

Ah, right. Jamie.

Your boyfriend.

Who you were supposed to meet for breakfast exactly sixteen minutes ago.

Shit.

You call him back and he answers on the first ring.

“Hey love!” he says. “You alright? Not like you to miss breakfast.”

You grimace. “I uh, I wasn’t feeling well last night and I haven’t slept very good. I forgot to text you. Didn’t fall asleep until 6.”

“A.M.?” Jamie asks and you reply to the affirmative. He lets out a long “shiiit,” followed by a, “how contagious are you?”

“For you? Not very,” you say. “For another girl, incredibly contagious, although some say that’s an old wive’s tale.”

Jamie is silent in confusion, then- “Ohh, I get it! You’re not sick-sick, you’re on your fucking period.”

You chuckle, despite remaining curled up on your side.

“Yes,” you reply, “My fucking period. I feel nauseous and tired and I am bleeding so. Much. It’s like my body’s making up for the last four months of nothing.”

Jamie’s silent for a moment and you internally cringe, kicking yourself for over sharing. You haven’t been together that long, about a month and a half, and he doesn’t need to know that about you. He’s a famous footballer, after all, and a guy’s guy. Probably gets grossed out about periods and stuff.

Then he says, “Can I come over? I’ll bring food,” and your worries almost completely evaporate.

“As long as you don’t care about how disgusting I am or the fact that I hurt a lot, sure,” you say. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

—

Jamie’s at your flat in 40 minutes, which is fast considering how much food he walks in with. He’s brought a bag of Chinese takeout, plus two overflowing grocery bags.

“This is for now, these are for later,” he explains. He’s in a pink sweatshirt with matching shorts and socks, and maybe it’s the damned hormones again but he looks hot. His hair is pushed back with a headband and you want him to fuck you. You don’t think you can convince him, though, what with the blood. And the fact that he’s Jamie fucking Tartt. And that he probably doesn’t do shit like that because it’s gross.

Your brain whispers, but he’s here, isn’t he? so you just push that thought down to live with other scary ones like, I will never have kids, or I’m going to live with this pain for the rest of my life.

Jamie is oblivious to this, just pulling everything out of the bags and chattering on. He’s kicked off his trainers near the door, and he hasn’t made any comments about the fact that you’ve wrapped a blanket around your shoulders like a shroud, or that your hair is in the messiest bun in the history of the world. Not the sexy, reader-insert fan fiction type of messy bun, either. Just an I-did-not-get-anywhere-NEAR-enough-sleep-last-night messy bun.

“-and me mum always drank orange juice, swore it helped with bloating or hydration or somethin’, I don’t really know, but I got some of that too and this tea that’s supposed to help with cramps, and also a shit-ton of chocolate because I didn’t know which kind was your favorite. I was thinking we can sit on the couch and watch a movie or play Animal Crossing or some shit while eating the takeout, then I can cook you a proper fucking meal later. Coach always says it’s important to have a balanced meal when you’re under the weather, and I think it applies to this too.” He stops when he notices you just looking at him. “You alright, babe?”

“Yeah, I just- why did you get all this?” you blurt out.

For the first time since you’ve known him, Jamie looks unsure of himself. “I dunno. I mean, I do know. You didn’t sound great over the phone, and Keeley’s always telling me to fucking listen to other people, and me mum was always the same on her period so I used to get her the things she wanted all the time. And-” he takes a breath, “and I picked up on what you said. The fuckin’ four-months shit. That ain’t good babe. Even I know that. And, we haven’t been together that long, but I’m pretty fucking sure you know that too, and I wanted to let you know I’m sorry.”

You’re momentarily fixed on the way he says certain words. Keeleh. Sorreh. It’s sweet, for some reason, and it causes a dull ache in your chest. You realize what he’s actually said to you and that ache deepens. You’d kiss him if you weren’t sure your breath was gross.

So instead, you settle for nodding and staring at your kitchen wall. That’s because option one is kissing and option two is crying. You can’t do either right now.

A traitor tear slips out your eye anyway, and you hope Jamie won’t see it. He does.

“Hey, hey.” He comes around the counter and pulls you into a hug, blanket shroud, messy bun, and all. “Love. It’s alright. It’s alright. You’re not alone, and we’re going to go sit on the couch and eat as much food as we can and then pass out, alright? We’re not going to think about anything else except what’s right in fuckin’ front of us.”

“That was,” you sniff, “weirdly philosophical. And very sweet. And I’m sorry for being disgusting.”

Jamie pulls away from you, and you think this is the first time he’s realized how gross you are.

“Don’t say that shit, babe,” he says, and you laugh before you realize he isn’t joking.

“I’m serious,” he continues. “You might feel disgusting, but you aren’t. You smell like fucking lavender, for Christ’s sake. Your pajamas are clean, and so’s your hair. Might be fuckin’ messy right now, but me mum also taught me to braid, so it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

You pull him back against you and let some more tears come out.

“Why are you being so nice,” you ask, voice muffled through his sweatshirt.

“Oh, dunno,” he replies, hint of a smile in his voice, “Think you’re fit. I like shower sex. You pick.” He pauses. “Maybe both. Heard that it can help with cramps.”

You laugh wetly into his chest. He’s warm and comforting, and so completely not what you expected him to be. You both stand in the kitchen for another minute, his cheek resting on your head before he says, “Oi, you hungry?”

“God, yes,” you say, “I could eat a fucking horse.”

“Good.” Jamie picks up the bulging bag of takeout and a roll of paper towels. “Lead the way, babe.”

—

It’s not until much later, after you’ve eaten, watched a movie, and showered (and all that implies) that you realize you’re finally tired. Finally calm. You let yourself relax on your bed in Jamie’s arms, breathing in his clean smell. In, out. In, out. By the third breath, you’re asleep.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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indigosunsetao3 · 2 months

Text

Sick Day

It's inevitable, we all get sick. How do the COD men help you through it?

Gender neutral reader perspective 18+ Fluff

Warning: Illness, vomiting (in Alex's only)

Alex - TW vomiting

You've been on the bathroom floor for who knew how long. Your knees are screaming in pain to get up but you know the moment you try to go to bed you'll get sick again. It had been like this since you woke up around 2am feeling that telltale sign in your stomach and the watering in your mouth. It must have been something you ate you think as you gasp and lean back against the tub, trying not to think of dinner the night before.

"Hey, it's me," comes a gentle voice from the other side of the door and you crack open an eye. You had asked Alex to pick up a few things from the store, you needed to try and get some electrolytes down. He had been texting you all morning to check in asking if there was anything he could do and you finally caved after finding nothing useful in the fridge.

"You can just leave it outside the door," you answer quietly, your voice a little ragged from getting sick so often. Your throat is sore and your abs hurt from just the exertion. "It's a disaster in here," you joke before your stomach heaves. Fuck. You scramble quickly for the toilet, amazed that there was anything left.

The door swings open and you gasp out for him to get out. You definitely do not want him to see you like this, a sweaty flushed mess as you gag. You groan and rest your head on the seat as a bag rustles and you feel him press a bottle of Gatorade in your hand as he pushes some hair off your sweaty neck. "Drink," he says simply, a soft order but an order nonetheless. He's already broken the seal for you and you smile a bit as you take the cap off.

"Really you don't have to be in here," you say as you sit up and take a sip of the blue liquid. "It's really gross in here and I don't want you to get sick if it's a bug," you try as you press the cool bottle to your forehead almost groaning at how nice it feels.

He's at the sink running water before he crouches down the moves to sit behind you. It's a tight fit, his legs too long to be comfortable but he adjusts making it work.

"I don't have to do anything," he replies as he gently places a cool rag on your neck. It's cold enough to send a shiver down your spine but it feels nice. "But I want to," he finishes before gently pulling you toward him.

You go without much resistance, not having the strength to really fight. He pulls you up against his chest and gently leans your head back onto his shoulder, placing another cool towel on your forehead. He really is much more comfortable than leaning against the tub and you sigh contently.

"Keep drinking," he says gently nudging your hand. "I'll stay with you until you feel well enough to go back to bed." He adjusts a bit, the bathroom cabinet creaking behind him before he softly rubs your arms and kisses the back of your sticky neck. "I've got nowhere else to be," he adds sensing you're going to protest.

Sometime later you wake up in bed with the vague memory of Alex helping you up off the bathroom floor, out of your dirty clothes and into his clean shirt. The worst of the sickness seems to have passed, and now it was just exhaustion wearing on you. There's a fresh bottle of Gatorade on the nightstand along with some bright yellow flowers. You can faintly smell cleaner where Alex has sanitized the whole bathroom for you.

Gaz

"You're sick too," you protest as Gaz sniffs from his side of the bed. You had visited his family and his youngest niece had a cold, when did she not have a cold being a toddler, and she seemed to have shared it with both of you.

"I can go to the store," he reasons before sneezing three times then leaning his head back against the headboard with an annoyed groan.

"Oh yes, because people are going to be delighted to have you sneezing and coughing all over the produce," you tease before coughing yourself and covering your mouth with the hem of your shirt.

"I'll wear a mask," he shoots back before coughing and rubbing at his temples. Each cough seemed like daggers to his head and he had been burrowed under the pillows because even the sunlight hurt his eyes. He would never admit that he was weak because it was his job to take care of you, damn it.

"We can just order take away," you fight back as you grab at him to drag him back to lay with you. "We can do that ramen place you like," you try as a lure. You don't want him to go to the store because you'd feel guilty just sitting there. But most of all you don't want him to leave the bed. Despite being miserable because you were both sick you had secretly been enjoying all the extra cuddle time with him.

"Ramen and I want boba," he mutters as you tug on the sleeve of his shoulder. He falls willingly to the side toward you, flopping over on your pillows as he stares pitifully up at you. His eyes are a bit red from all the sneezing and he sniffs again as he rubs at one of them.

"Ramen and boba," you agree before leaning down to kiss his forehead before snuggling up against him. "But you have to order," you mutter into his chest as you nuzzle in his shirt. "You're too picky," you tease as you feel him reach toward the nightstand for his phone.

"I'm not picky, I just know what I like," he answers as he gently rubs at your back with one hand, the other already scrolling through the delivery menu.

"I want..." you started but he turns the phone toward you to see he's already put in your favorite. He always remembered what you liked, even if it was only mentioned a single time or in passing. You asked him about it once but he just says part of his job is to observe and remember. So why would he not remember what you liked?

"I'm also adding a stop at the shops to get ice cream," he tacks on as he twists the phone away to scroll and add to the order. "You can't properly recover from a sore throat without that," he grins.

"Oh?" You ask, sliding your hand up his shirt to rest on his stomach. His delightfully warm and you can feel him involuntarily flinch from your cold fingers. "You sure it's just not your sweet tooth? That doesn't sound like real medicine," you tease.

"It is," he scoffs, "always works for me. You'll see," he slides the phone onto the end table before rolling to curl up around you, your hand sliding to his back. "Kisses are also part of the regiment," Gaz tacks on stealing a quick one from you. "Lots," he adds peppering your lips as you giggle.

Ghost

"You should have told Price you were sick before we left," Ghost admonishes as you try to hide yet another coughing fit. You were out in the field with Ghost on a recon mission and had been drinking water and eating small throat lozenges all day to try and get rid of the tickle in your throat.

"I thought it was allergies," you answer back as you adjust on your stomach and peer down the binoculars again. That is the truth, it was spring after all. But after laying out in the sun for hours now the cough was worsening and the headache was starting to set in.

You stifle another cough as you hear Ghost shift next to you before he taps your arm. You lower the binoculars a bit to glance over and see his hand holding out a jolly rancher. He's not looking at you as he holds it out, his eyes fixed down his sniper scope. You don't ask why he had one, or if he possibly had more, before you take it and pop it in your mouth. It was cherry and you grin since that's your favorite before you go back to peering at your quarry.

"Movement headed our way," Ghost says a few minutes later as he points to a convey of beat up pickup trucks. They are heading right at you. Shuffling quickly you tuck your binoculars in your ghillie suit and look around for a place to hide better. Ghost leads the way in a small crouch, his hand reaching behind him to drag you along as you curse and stuff your fist into your mouth to stifle the cough.

Dragging you into some dense bushes Ghost pulls you between his legs as he crouches. He presses your face tight into his chest, one hand behind your head the other holding a pistol resting against your back. Your body shakes as it tries to cough again and he forcefully pushes your head further into him, his kit digging into your face.

The trucks have stopped and you hear people talking as they get out and slam doors. They are searching the area and Ghost curses as you shake with another cough, your whole body vibrating with it. He shifts a bit and you dare to look up at him. His eyes are locked on the enemy that is getting closer but he darts his eyes down to you for just a second. That is definitely worry etched in his face.

Your hands scrabble around him to hold on, to try and dig even further into his warmth. You just need to keep it together for a few minutes. Surely you can not cough for that long right? Ghost shifts just a bit so you can burrow into the softness of skin between his chest and shoulder where his vest isn't. You breathe in the scent of his deodorant and laundry detergent as he continues to hold the back of your head pushing you so hard you may suffocate. If you passed out from lack of oxygen you wouldn't be coughing at least.

They're close now you hear the quiet click of Ghost flipping the safety off, his hand fisting your hair under the hood of your suit. He jumps a bit as you bite down to fight anther cough, your teeth sinking into his shirt and flesh to stifle it. His fingers flex for a moment before he loosens the grip and imperceptibly rubs your scalp with his thumb gently; a reassurance.

A call over the radio was your savoir. The men were a breath away from the bushes and you felt Ghost tense ready to shoot when the call on their radio came in. The men disburse going back to their trucks and taking off. You both stay still for a moment before Ghost finally lets you go and you lean back to look up at him.

"That's going to leave a mark," he mutters as he looks a the spot where you bit him.

"Sorry," you answer a bit embarrassed as you cough into the back of your hand. He fishes out another sweet and unwraps it and pops it in your mouth before you realize exactly what he was doing. His fingers are quick as he pushes it between your lips, his eyes locked on his movements, before he swallows and retracts his hands. It’s green apple this time, a short zip of sour hits your tongue to pull you from the confused daze he just left you in.

"I didn't say I minded," he answers flatly before pushing his hands on his knees to help himself stand up and scan the whole area. "Come on," he extends a hand to help you up, "we've still got work to do and I only have so many sweets left in my stash."

You swear you see him smirk behind his mask as you walk to a new area to settle in for surveillance.

Price

Three days of a fever. You had been holed up in bed trying anything and everything to get it to break. The old wives tale of sweating it out made you nauseated and raised your temperature too high. Then trying to freeze it out only made you shiver and made you more miserable. Sleep had been fitful, fever induced nightmares and just being uncomfortable made it hard to get decent rest.

But when John comes to check on you for the umpteenth time that day, he finds you curled up in a ball under the blankets. He pulls the covers back and finds you are soaked, your hair plastered to your forehead and t-shirt stuck to your skin.

"Sweetheart?" Price asks quietly, his hand moving to push your hair off your face where a few tendrils are stuck. "I think your fever finally broke," he says feeling at your forehead and cheek not caring about the sweat. "You aren't burning up anymore."

"What?" You grumbled trying to burrow away, still half asleep. You could care less about what he was saying, you just wanted to sleep.

"You've sweated through your clothes," he says simply and pulls the blankets back more. "You'll be much more comfortable if we get you cleaned up," he reasons as you attempt to slide away.

"I'll clean up later," you answer. Though now that you've woken up a bit you find the sweat has cooled on your body and now you're cold. And your shirt was stuck and twisted at odd angles constricting you. "I'm too tired," you tack on as you fitfully trying to right the shirt to no avail.

"I'll help you," he ventures before standing up and disappearing. You can hear him turn on the shower and you huff sitting up, the room spinning for a moment. While your fever may have broke the headache and fatigue were certainly still weighing down on you.

"Come on," John says appearing at your side and gently pulls you out of the bed. He's shirtless and you blink at him a bit as he guides you into the bathroom. The light is bright which makes you wince and he quickly flips the switch before helping you out of the shirt, his shirt, you were wearing.

"I'm not going to be able to," you start but he's already there stepping out of his pants to be fully naked next to you before pulling back the curtain.

He helps you step in before following behind and you stand under the lukewarm water for a moment savoring it before he turns you around and gently massages your scalp. It feels wonderful as he washes away the sweat and gently shampoos your hair then rinses it. While the conditioner sits he does his own, pulling you to lean against his chest for support as you stand with your eyes closed.

He's tender with the washcloth, knowing you had body aches from the flu, but makes sure to fully clean you. Lifting your legs gently in turn and spinning you to wash down your chest and stomach. When he's done he cuts the water and wraps you in a large towel and escorts you to the bedroom to sit on the small bench at the foot of the bed while he strips it down and puts on fresh new sheets.

He leaves you to your slumber while he goes back to paperwork, checking on you a few times as you finally catch up on some rest.

Soap

"When was the last time you took medicine?" Soap asks as you cough into the blanket. You've been on the couch for hours, sliding in and out of sleep as Soap puttered around the house doing chores and keeping himself occupied. He tried to coax you to go upstairs and lay in the bed properly but you refused. He was only home for a few days and you weren't going to waste your time together sleeping. Even though you were sleeping on the couch.

"Mmm, I don't remember. Around lunch?" You answer looking at your phone for the time. You were well past due.

"I'll get it," he answers as you move to sit up. "I'm going to make you what my mother always gave us as children," he adds as he disappears into the kitchen.

You continue to lay on the couch flipping channels as you hear him messing about in the kitchen. The kettle whistles and you hear more clattering before he appears with your medicine in one hand. He's already torn it out of the packaging because you can never get it open. The other hand holds a steaming mug of tea and as he hands it to you after you sit up you sniff.

"Is that...is there whiskey in this?" You ask turning your nose up a bit. Whiskey was not your drink by a long shot.

"Aye," Soap answers as he flops down on the couch next to you. "Hot toddy," he explains as you take a small sip. There is honey and lemon mixed in and you can taste cinnamon. It burns, not just from the hot water but from the alcohol, as it goes down your throat. "Ma always made it for us when we were sick. Helped with the cough and to get us to sleep."

"Weren’t you kids?" You ask raising an eyebrow at him which causes him to laugh.

"Just a wee bit of whiskey for us then," he winks before gesturing for you to continue to drink. "Warms you up from the inside out. Don't know how it works really, but it does." He slides his arm behind you on the couch so you can lean in on him.

You curl your feet up under you and lean against his chest. Once the drink cools enough you pop the medicine in your mouth, trying not to linger on the thought of taking it with alcohol, and down it. He wasn't wrong about the drink warming you from the inside out, you feel a bit flushed as you get to the bottom dregs. He takes the mug from you as you snuggle into him more.

"Haven't coughed in a bit," he observes after about thirty minutes of silence into the movie he had picked. He looks down to see you dozing off and he laughs to himself as he gently tugs you to lay your head in his lap. He gently plays with your hair as he settles in for the long haul.

You fall into a deep, restful, sleep in Soap's lap as he continues to gently tend to you. Long after the movie is over he still sits silently, enjoying the quiet moment with you.

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heartthrobin · 11 months

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lay me at your feet and i'll hum your favourite tune

sam winchester x female!reader

wc: 860

warnings: pda, reference to chatty!reader, sam being smitten, dean being grumpy, sweet sweet kissin and one or two sexual references

an: the idea for this literally choked me last night as i was watching spn, based off/ set in the last five minutes of ep 4x5 Monster Movie (the one w the dracula). v short, i wrote it in like 20 min at 2am hence barely checked. enjoy :)))

summary: little pda + teasing Dean drabble

“well thank you G-man. you have been a great service … to your country.”

Pennsylvania was muggy, just enough that you could begin to doubt that the town had already slipped into autumn.

the hot sound of slurping suffocated the space again. it made the open air in front of the bar stuffy.

Dean sucked down the remnants of Jamie’s breakfast straight off her tongue.

Jamie. the woman of the hour, predecessor to the ones that would surely follow over in the next state.

he hadn’t spent the night in the motel, Dean. you were sure he was being stripped of his little Hansel and Gretel outfit somewhere across town where Jamie stayed. maybe he deserved it, he’d been drugged and then fragments of moments from electrocution most of the night with Dracula at the wheel.

he came up for barely a second of breath. “what can i say, i’m very patriotic.”

but that doesn’t mean you deserved it. to stand and have to endure the sight and sound. your face twisted in mild disgust and your neck craned up to meet Sam’s head perched at the top of his towering figure.

his face painted uncomfortable, his gaze pointedly moving over the people.

the blonde woman let off a sigh far too hot and loud for the crowded town square at nine in the morning, Dean gripped at the back of her jeans.

Sam’s eyes found you. he shrugged softly. his lips parted and you already knew he was seconds off from suggesting that maybe it would be more comfortable to wait by the car.

but you were never one to miss an opportunity for theatrics.

you reached up, far up, for the collar of your boyfriend’s khaki jacket: flushing him against you.

“oh Sam, you’re my knight in shining armor,” you gasped loudly, enough to stir but not part Dean’s engagement.

tugging gently to not hurt him, but enough to nudge him down: Sam leaned over so his forehead pressed against your own.

“you’re so brave, and so handsome—“

a velvet red flush leaked up from his chest and pooled in his cheeks.

your hands came to the side of his face, one branching slowly behind to tug on the hairs at the base of his neck and he worked hard not to whine - eyes flickering feign irritation at your batting lashes because you knew how much he loved that - but you pretended not to notice either move.

his grip found your waist. your nose bumped his, asking for a quiet consent, and he gently met your lips to satiate your bottomless need to tease Dean.

Sam wasn’t a fan of public displays of affection.

well, maybe that wasn’t the right way to phrase it. he just preferred when everything was just a little … slower. when you would tire yourself out from talking against his neck after a long day before falling against his lips where he’d find his whole body vibrating with his love for you.

but you did. you liked “PDA” and Sam wanted to indulge you when he could. you liked to hold his hand, keep him close between thickets of people. he liked that okay most of the time.

but he liked this too, to his surprise. maybe there was the additional aspect that it was for the main point of pissing off his brother.

but he couldn’t really decide on that. not when your tongue was nudging softly against his amidst a hot, fast kiss. you pulled off with a pop, pretending to fan yourself: slumping against his figure.

“and so intelligent, and with such a big … heart.”

you were sure you could fry an egg off Sam’s forehead the way his skin burnt beneath your hands but the little curl at the edge of his now slick mouth relieved you of the thought that maybe it was too much. that, and the fingers that dug what would soon be deep purple welts into the swell of your hips.

your tongue was already pushing past his lips again, halfway through the most pornographic moan you could muster for such a public space when Dean had evidently had his fill, of Jamie’s breakfast and of your dramatics.

“alright, alright. we’re done. you guys can stop face-fucking now … please.”

you drew back from a blood red Sammy, grinning.

Jamie was laughing, giggling pretty like how you imagined someone as good-looking as her would.

“just saying our goodbyes. you guys did save my life.” she smiled, laughs cooking to a soft bubble and wrapping her arms around herself. “travel safe okay?”

there was a murmur of nods and goodbyes and, for Dean, last pecks.

by the time you’d fallen into the backseat and Baby began to grumble beneath you, Dean was still huffing.

“for the record, you two only had to listen to me make out for five minutes. i can barely go take a thirty second shower without having to hear you two going at it like wild animals.”

Sam still hadn’t said a thing, but a soft shake of a chuckle rippled from beneath his jacket. you laughed until your ribs hurt.

“so dramatic, Deano.”

“makes two of us.”

#sam winchester x reader #sam Winchester imagine #sam Winchester Drabble #sam Winchester fanfiction #sam Winchester #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader

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nexysworld · 1 year

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Imagine things have been going very smooth between bunny!reader and yandere!leon like let’s say a good 2 months of her folding under Leon’s rules and being perfect for him so he cranks up the affection even more to the point she gets drunk and hazy on his love

Her ovulation comes around and she absolutely cannot get enough of Leon. He’s gone on a one day mission which has him back home late the same night but to bunny!ready Leon being gone even that short was enough to rile her up so when he comes home she’s still awake. Leon is thrilled to be welcomed by cuddles and kisses until she starts rocking her hips and hits him with a “I’ve been so good lately, right? Just for you. So won’t you reward me and put lots of bunnies in me, pleaaase?”

I let you imagine Leon’s state afterward ahah

All I can say is fucking inspiring anon. Inspiring! So much so I turned this into a quick oneshot I typed out on the last 30 min of my lunch break because I couldn't get it out of my head. For those new, this oneshot is based on the same au as my Yandere!Leon fic Guardian Angel which was inspired by @explorevenus's fic Something Permanent. ~ Breeding Bunnies ~ Read on AO3 🖤 Requests are Open 🖤 Masterlist Pairing: Yandere!Leon x Fem!Reader Tags: NSFW, daddy kink, breeding kink, smut, use of pet names like bunny

Leon was exhausted, all he wanted to do was get home to his little Bunny. It was rare that he had to leave on such short notice, all he had time to do was leave a bedside note with an explanation before he was out the door at 4am.

The mission went fine, though Leon had to admit he rushed things as much as he could, originally scheduled to be gone for 48 hours, he’d completed the mission and was on his way home by 11pm same day.

Jeep rolling to a stop outside the farmhouse, he saw that the bedroom light was still on. A little concerned he checked the time, 2am. So he’d been gone in total 22 hours. But why was his little Bunny still awake? You knew you had a bedtime, it wasn’t good if you were tired all day. Not really in the mood to do anything about it, he trudged inside, kicking his work boots off at the door before making his way upstairs. Luckily he opted to take a shower at work before coming home, so he didn’t smell like swamp and blood.

He could hear the soft whimpering noises coming from the cracked door of the bedroom, clearly, you hadn’t heard him come home yet. Adorable. Any irritation he had from you still being awake was gone.

The second his hand touched the knob and the door creaked, all noises ceased. Whatever he’d almost seen you doing had stopped. There you sat on the bed, hands folded over the blanket, face red and flushed. “Welcome home Daddy~ I missed you.” The sound of your voice was heaven to his ears. “It’s a little late for you to be up don’t you think?” There was no anger in his voice as he slipped onto the bed, letting you wrap your arms around him. “I know, I’m sorry.” You cooed softly clinging to him, burying your face into his chest to inhale his scent. “I tried cuddling with your pillow, but it’s not the same. I just can’t sleep without you.” “Awww poor Bunny, I’m here now though. Let’s get some rest, ok?” He adjusted the position so he was lying on his side pulling you into his arms tightly, peppering your face with kisses. He didn’t question it when you brought your leg over his hip, assuming you just wanted to snuggle as close as possible.

His heart was bursting with love, knowing that you missed him so much. Not even his imagination could properly conjure such a beautiful scene - nothing could make this night any better, or so he thought anyway.

Being so exhausted though, it wasn’t long before he felt himself drifting toward unconsciousness. Almost asleep he felt a slight movement against his leg. He ignored it, savoring the feeling of falling asleep. Again it happened, jostling his consciousness. A few more times and he was fully awake, realizing you were grinding against his leg. “Mmm Bunny, quit it, not tonight mkay?” He rubbed the back of your hair softly. “Pleeeeaassseee? I missed you so much.” “Bunny, no. Tryin’ to sleep.” “But I’ve been so good lately, right? Just for you. So won’t you reward me and put lots of bunnies in me, pleaaase?” Leon’s eyes shot open as your words sent all the blood flowing to his cock. Did she really just ask me that? “You want me to fill you up with bunnies, baby?” “Please, need you.” To emphasize your point, you ground yourself against his hip again extra hard, mewling at the rough sensation of cloth on your clit. You were so wet with need, there was a dark spot forming all the way through your underwear and onto his pants.

“Fuck, Bunny. I could never say no to that.” He rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he sat up, tugging his pants and boxers off, tossing them somewhere into the darkness of the room. Leaning over you, he helped you out of your panties before connecting your lips together in a rough kiss. Leon grabbed himself, teasing you by running the fat tip of his cock up and down your slit, taking an extra moment to gently tap it against your clit. “Aww poor baby, look how wet you are. Guess you really do need my babies, don’t you?” He lined himself up with your hole, sliding in without stopping until he was balls deep. Not even giving him the chance to move you started bucking wildly fucking yourself on his cock, earning a hiss from him. “More…more…” you begged between each rock of your hips. “God, you’re killing me tonight sweet thing. Just can’t get enough of me, can you?” He gripped your hips tightly, ceasing your movements. You whined squirming against his hold. “Shh. Shh. You’re too eager baby, just relax and let me take care of you, hmm?” Leon pushed your legs up, flattening himself against you more until you were in a firm mating press, cock somehow managing to reach deeper than you ever thought possible. “Such pretty noises.” He cooed as you babbled incoherently each time he pistoned his hips against you. His pelvis bouncing against your throbbing clit was adding extra stimulation, bringing you so close to the edge.

“Mmm Daddy–” You barely got the words out, pussy clenching around him as you came undone, clinging to him. His nose buried in your neck, he gave a few more hard thrusts before he came as deep as he could, riding it out with a few slow thrusts.

He didn’t pull out immediately as he gently let your legs down into a more comfortable position. He opted to lay on top of you enjoying your sweet smell, and letting his slowly softening cock act as a plug.

“God Bunny, can’t wait to see your swollen belly in a few months.”

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lykegenia · 7 months

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So something has been bugging me for a while now about A and N’s backstories, and while I know not everyone will be as pedantic as me, as someone who loves history and has done a lot of writing, I feel that if you’re going to write a story about vampires and give them a specific time and date of origin, then there should be a certain level of research that goes into making that background authentic. I'm not saying that Mishka didn’t do any research. It just seems that in order to keep the vibe of a happy, mellow fantasy some of the less savoury aspects of A and N’s upbringings have been left out, and it's a shame. To be honest, it feels a bit disingenuous, and it feels like an opportunity got wasted.

Let me explain (long post got long, it's 2am)

Let's take A first, since the problem is simpler here.

A is the child of a Norman lord and an Anglo-Saxon noblewoman, born in the first generation after the Norman Conquest of England in 1066. A says that these were turbulent times but that their parents had a happy marriage. Which. While I’m sure a lot of unions in that time period made the best of it, I can’t help but feel this description strips away a lot of the context of what was going on at that point in history - and removes some of the complexity about A’s thoughts on love and relationships.

Basically, after he took control of the throne, William the Conqueror stripped many Anglo-Saxon lords of their lands and titles so he could give them to his Norman buddies instead - with the added bonus that it left the Anglo-Saxons without the means to raise armies against him. The sisters, daughters, and widows of the dispossessed Anglo-Saxons were then forced to marry these new Norman lords to legitimise their power, not infrequently after all of their male relatives had been slaughtered. It’s not as if Anglo-Saxon women weren’t used to being used as political chess pieces, but the years after the conquest were brutal. It’s why William had to build so many castles. The point that I’m trying to make is that even if A’s mother was content enough in her daily life, due to the power imbalance between her and her husband, it's very likely she had little choice in the matter. She may have seen a lot of her family killed for political reasons, with the knowledge that – in an age where women had very little protection outside of their paternal household – she might be next if she made too much of a fuss.

It would be fascinating to see what effect that tension has had on A 900 years later, or even to get an acknowledgement of how much times have changed, but we don’t. We don't see how their early years affected them, how they view relationships formed naturally instead of via political contracts. And I really, really wish we did. There is so much potential there.

But A is not the one keeping me up past 2 in the morning. It’s N, and the utter detachment their backstory seems to have from the period in history they lived in as a human. And it all stems from the fact that they came from the English nobility in the late 1600s.

See, the bulk of the problem is that English inheritance law at the time heavily favoured primogeniture, where a man’s wealth would go to his first-born son. Some dispensation was made for widows and other children, but the estates, assets, and most of the money had a very clear destination.

For one thing, this makes it kinda weird that N’s stepfather would have needed an heir before he could inherit, because except in extreme circumstances everything would have gone to him anyway. Don't get me wrong, this isn't the worst part of the problem, it’s just annoying when there are more plausible reasons for him marrying a woman already pregnant with another man’s child (old family friend wanting to save her from disgrace, needed the dowry to pay off gambling debts, there was a longstanding betrothal between them that would have been tricky to get out of, etc.).

No, the bigger problem with N’s backstory vs primogeniture is firstly that at the time the English aristocracy was racist af (still is tbh) and given his pretty obvious mixed-race heritage, no court would have agreed that Nate was a legitimate son (this is for a very special reason that we will be coming back to). I say Nate specifically here because primogeniture requires the eldest legitimate son. Nat wouldn’t have inherited at all, as women in that period passed from the guardianship of their father (or other male blood relative) into that of their husband after marriage, and only gained any kind of independence with widowhood. If N had been an only child, maybe they would have been treated as a special case, but unfortunately Milton exists: the eldest legitimate son who by law will inherit everything.

Now here’s the thing. Your average aristocrat in the 17th century is very obsessed with lineage and keeping the family line unbroken. He would not, therefore, send his legitimate heir to sea to be shot at or drowned before he can carry on the family name – that joy instead goes to any other sons who need their own profession, because again, they will get very little. Nat would have had a dowry, but would never have been expected to make her own living, so I'm going to focuson Nate for this next bit.

In Book 3, if you unlock his tragic backstory Nate tells you he joined the Royal Navy after Milton went missing so that he could go look for him. And, well. This is where his backstory as Mishka tells it completely falls apart. For two reasons:

1. Even in the modern day, you can’t ‘just’ join the Navy, and you certainly can’t just jump straight to being a lieutenant – it takes years of training and after a certain age they won’t take you because they won’t be able to mould you easily enough into a useful tool. For most of the Navy's history, the process was even more involved. It wasn’t an office job you could just rock up to and then quit if you felt like it, it was a lifetime commitment. Boys destined to be officers would be sent to sea as early as 12 to learn shipboard life, starting at the bottom and moving up the ranks. These were gained by passing exams and by purchasing a commission – which is why you generally had to come from wealth to be an officer at all. Once you get to lieutenant you're responsible for a lot of people, and might be tasked with commanding any captured ships alongside the daily running of yours - it was not an easy job.

2. Even as a lieutenant (one rank below Captain, with varying levels of seniority) it’s not like you can just go where you want. In the 1720s British colonies already existed in India, the Caribbean, and up the entire eastern seaboard of North America and into Canada, and the Navy was tasked with protecting merchant shipping along these seaways (and one trade in particular that we’ll be getting to, don’t worry). Nate could have ended up practically anywhere in the burgeoning empire. He would not have been able to choose whom he served under, and would not have been able to demand his superior officer go against orders from the admirality to chase down one lone vessel because he thinks another one of the admirals might be a bit dodgy. It could not have happened.

Besides these impracticalities, there’s a far easier way for the child of a wealthy man to get to a specific point on the far side of the globe to look for their lost sibling, which is the route I assume Nat took sine she couldn’t have joined the Navy (yes she could have snuck in but she’s specifically in a dress in the B2 mirror scene so). All they'd have to do would be to charter a ship and tell the captain where to go, which is the plot of Treasure Island. It's quicker, less fuss, with less chance of things going wrong. It's even possible in the age of mercantilism that the Sewells had some merchant vessels among their holdings that could be diverted for the task. Why go through the hassle of joining the Navy and potentially ending up on the wrong side of the world when you can just hire a ship directly?

If Nate does have to be in the Navy (and let’s face it, it’s worth it just for the uniform) then it's far more plausible is that, as the illegitimate son who would not inherit because of racism etc, he got sent to the Navy as a boy and rose through the ranks to become a lieutenant. When he got news of Milton’s disappearance not far from where he was stationed, he begged his captain to go investigate in case whatever happened turned out to be the symptom of a bigger problem. Like pirates.

I like this version better not just because it makes more sense, or because it keeps Nate’s situation re: inheritance closer to Nat’s and therefore makes their stories more equal, but also because it adds a delicious amount of guilt to Nate’s need to find his brother. We know his entire crew died looking for answers, because he was selfish – that’s roughly 100-400 lives lost because of him, and we know that sort of thing eats at him.

So that's one side of the story, but if Milton wasn’t in the Navy, what was he doing on the other side of the Atlantic in the first place? Well, this is where we come to the biggest elephant in the room regarding N’s backstory as a member of the 17th century English aristocracy and potentially as a naval officer: the Atlantic Slave Trade. If you are wealthy in 17th century Britain it's more than likely that your wealth comes either from the trade itself, or from the products made with the labour of enslaved people. If you are wealthy, you want to protect your assets from attack by pirates or foreign powers so you don't become less wealthy, and that is what the Navy is for.

Regardless of N’s own views on slavery at the time – and any subsequent changes in opinion – it’s likely their family owned or had shares in slave plantations in the Americas. As distasteful as it is, it makes far more sense that Milton was on a trip to check the family’s holdings when his ship - specifically a merchant vessel - went missing. From a pirate perspective, a merchant ship would make a much better target than a Navy vessel, being slower, more likely to have valuable cargo, and less likely to have marines or a well-trained broadside.

It's not surprising that Mishka left out the subject of the slave trade given her tendency to skirt around darker subjects and general blindspot for racial politics, but it is nuance that, if it was there, would create a more grounded and coherent backstory for N that doesn’t have quite so many holes. Like with A being the child of an invader and his war bride, we could get some deeper thoughts from N about their place in the world - How do they feel to have grown up so privileged when others who looked like them were regarded as literal property? How did they feel being part of the system that made it happen? Did it inform their compassionate nature? Is it still a source of guilt or someithng they've tried to make up for?

I'm not sure where I was going with all of this. It's late, my sleep pattern is fucked. The tl;dr is that giving the vampires' backstories historical context would make them feel more multifaceted and would give opportunities for character growth that are instead missed because of a desire for a more sanitized version of the past.

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #the wayhaven chronicles #twc #a du mortain #adam du mortain #ava du mortain #n sewell #nate sewell #nat sewell #it's annoying because it’s such a small tweak in the grand scheme of things #If she didn’t want unfortunate implications she could have made N from a century later when the navy was actively trying to stop slavery #A could have been from a 50 years earlier to tie his whole family’s demise into the subjugation of the english after the battle of hastings #or a century later when the two courts had mostly integrated #mishka made choices #they deserve to be given more substance than mere aesthetics #you can tell it’s late I’m using long words

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