#But it is an excellent game that deserves more attention | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

on-a-lucky-tide · 3 months ago

Text

Laswell and Nik watch Price play a Rugby match. Part 2.

cw: brief mention of injury, hand job right at the end.

Look, I just love the idea that Nik, Laswell and Price are good friends outside of work. I want to write more of it. All my work is self-indulgent but this is PURE self indulgence.

The plastic chairs were damn uncomfortable and Laswell was pretty sure she could have managed an extra pair of socks inside her boots, but the atmosphere was contagious. Jubilant, loud; people stamping their feet and blowing on their hands in the cold, old comrades meeting again after a long time, families gathered to see fathers, sons, husbands, play.

Plus, she had promised, hadn't she? And seeing her long term friend do something that didn't have the threat of a bullet mixed in was an opportunity she felt she deserved as much as he did.

"Here, Laswell."

A plastic cup of beer appeared in front of her face between the large fingers and thumb of her companion for the day, and she took it in two gloved hands. "Thanks, Nik."

"It tastes very bad," he informed her as he swung his leg over the chair next to her and fell into it heavily, taking a swig of his own with a grimace. "Da. Like barman pissed into a cup."

"Really selling it to me," she chuckled before taking a sip, nose wrinkling. "That is... quite the aftertaste."

Nik shrugged. "It is all part of the experience, and," he ferreted through his jacket, lifting his ass off the seat, and pulled out his hip flask, "ha." He offered it to her first, to which she shook her head, before he unscrewed the cap with his thumb and dumped a generous helping into the top of his drink. "How long?"

"They headed in from their warm up about ten minutes ago."

"Ah, he looked good, no?"

Laswell nodded, her eyes crinkling with her smile as she noted the blush of pride on Nik's face. John Price had, indeed, looked good. He had been rosie-cheeked and energetic through all the drills despite the cold, keeping up with the younger members of his team without any apparent issue.

And, perhaps most importantly of all, he had been laughing and grinning throughout, exchanging banter, and pausing to talk with someone he recognised in the stands, only ending the conversation with a handshake and bump of the shoulders when his coach - a Major something or other, according to the introductory leaflet - bellowed at him.

It was John's boyish glee that had caught Nik's attention more than all the tight woven shorts around thick thighs, the bulging biceps and full chests stretching through Underarmour base layers, and she had watched his eyes blow wide as he fidgeted in his seat, desperate clearly to be closer and bask in John's happiness rather than observe it from afar. She'd sent him for the beer to cool off.

It was an interservice friendly. Navy versus army. A pre-season warm up before the international competition began and the British armed forces would field a composite team of the very best. "Will they win this one?" Laswell asked, chancing another sip of beer and regretting it the moment it touched her tongue.

"Da. The Navy have uh, what to say, fast backs, but their forwards have bad... set pieces."

"Did you understand a word of what you just said?"

"Nyet." Nik grinned. He loved listening to John talk about the game and absorbed every iota of information he could to share in that passion. That didn't mean he was any better than Laswell in understanding what the hell was going on.

"Do you think he'll be selected for the internationals?"

"He has already been asked for his availability."

"Of course he has. Annoyingly, I don't think I've ever encountered an activity that John Price doesn't excel at."

Nik huffed a laugh. "He is an overachiever. Although, not such a good cook. I have never seen someone turn custard into rubber before."

"Aha! A weakness. I will store it for later use."

They lapsed into a momentary pause and watched the crowd find their seats. Nik checked his phone, and then nudged Laswell for a selfie to send to John. They toasted their crappy beers and Laswell conjured her cheesiest grin with a thumbs up. Nik sent it without filters, because he was brutal like that.

Nik (10.15): [image.jpeg]

JP (10.17): good-looking pair of muppets 👍

Nik (10.18): are you feeling ok?

JP (10:19): hammies tight but physio happy.

Nik (10:19): I will help with that later

JP (10:20): countin on it 👌💦😜

"You better not be sexting while I am right next to you, Nikolai."

Nik smirked at her and shook his head once. "He is fine. Nervous."

"You got 'nervous' from that?"

"Da."

"Nervous for a Rugby match but doesn't even bat an eye at leaping from a Hercules into an active firefight with a single page's worth of intel..."

"He feels out of practice. He missed the start of the tournament due to work."

"Ah. Story of our lives, Nik." They missed so much living due to work. Kate had missed the birth of both of her nephews, her brother-in-law's wedding, her sister's fortieth birthday party. So many big life events that would never repeat. But that's what made things like this special. It may be a forces match, but John was choosing to do it. He enjoyed it. Sharing in that enjoyment, that moment of happiness, that was special too.

"They are coming," Nik said like an excited boy on Christmas morning, having spotted the players at the mouth of the changing rooms. He stood with the rest of the crowd and Laswell rolled to her feet too, joining in the cheers and clapping as two lines of outrageously built men jogged out onto the pitch.

Nik and Laswell stood in respectful silence as the band played through the national anthem and the two teams lined up to bray along with it, hands on chests. The British national anthem was a damn drone, but at least it allowed everyone to pull it off. They sat down after the applause, when the two captains met with the referee in the middle of the pitch for the coin toss.

John tried to make the glance into the stands discreet, but the smile when he spotted Nik and Laswell - due to Nik's not so discreet full-armed wave - was difficult to hide. Hands on his hips, he looked down, scuffing the grass with his boot bashfully before turning to listen to the referee outline his expectations.

Sometimes she forgot about the sixteen year age gap between them; he was so brilliant at it all, so driven, so focused and relentless, he was her peer and her equal, but she had already been at the game for twelve years when he enlisted at 16. Whatever she felt in that moment at seeing John so pleased by their presence, his cheeks dimpling in that full-hearted grin he had, felt annoyingly maternal. She necked some beer.

Nik leaned in. "He will choose to receive."

"Mhm."

"Laswell," Nik said, feigning shock as she hid her smirk against her plastic pint.

The navy took the ball with them, the ref jogged backward with his hand in the air, and the two teams lined up. John was the 'fly half', which Kate understood to mean he was the decision maker of the team. It required effective leadership and communication to connect the forwards with the backline and navigate the enemy defence. The perfect role for one Captain Jonathan Price if ever there was one. Which explained the bright yellow captain's band wrapped around his bicep, clashing with the green and white jersey with its big number 10 on the back.

A single peep of the whistle marked the start of the game and the navy's number 10 put their boot to the ball, the rest of the team surging down the pitch behind it. One of the backline received the ball and immediately shipped it out towards the wings to begin making progress in the opposite direction.

The difference between American football and Rugby had always struck Laswell; the ball was the same-ish shape, there were set pieces for different scenarios, but that's where the similarity ended. Rugby was about keeping play moving. It was a relentless, brutal battle down the pitch, with hits that made her teeth shake and no padding between bodies and the impact.

The navy was playing aggressively, forcing the army's backline to reset. Every time the army's scrum half dug the ball out of the breakdown - which was what Laswell understood the huge pile of bodies on the floor to be called - John was there to receive it. He was agile, twisting, turning, everywhere at once; a testament to his own hard work to maintain his fitness and mobility.

One of the navy forwards was too slow off the mark and slammed into John once he'd passed the ball, bringing him to the ground hard with a shoulder to the gut. Nik was halfway out of his chair on instinct, and Laswell reached out a hand for his forearm. "It's part of the game, Nik. An honest mistake." The ref blew the whistle. Free kick.

John rolled to his feet, tugging the legs of his shorts down from the creases of his thighs before plucking the ball from the ground. He chose to kick into touch and gathered his team before the lineout. They hunkered down, listening intently. Laswell could hear his voice in her mind, imagined his tone, and when she glanced off to Nik and saw the look on his face, she knew he was doing the same.

John set the backline, barking over his shoulder and gesturing with his arm to get them in position, once he was happy, he indicated to the scrum half to take the throw in. The ball sailed over the heads of the two lines and found the hands of the army's flanker, who knocked it with practised ease into John's waiting palms. It sailed down the line quick, John sprinting behind the line. The navy thought they were going for a try at the wing and sent their players down to meet it. John cut in halfway and took the ball through a gap created by their miscalculation.

The hulking opposition forwards couldn't catch him once he had the space to open up with long strides, and he pushed one optimistic player off him like he was nothing. Laswell heard Nik breathe something in Russian, leaning forward in his chair, only to leap up the moment that ball touched the try line. She stood with him to clap and he threw an arm around her shoulder jubilantly. "He is so good, did you see? Like a jet, I cannot--" she missed the rest, because he was too busy celebrating, half his beer splashing onto the ground.

An orange five appeared on the scoreboard at first, and then John turned it into a seven when he kicked the ball over the middle bar between the two posts. "A conversion, Laswell," Nik informed her, toasting the scoreboard as it ticked up.

John's try seemed to turn the tables. Now that the army's side had seen the defence clinically dissected, it was like they were more confident in picking those holes. Seven turned to fourteen, fourteen to twenty-one. The navy managed to land a try shortly before half time but their fly half, John's junior by about fifteen years, missed the conversion kick, leaving the scoreboard at twenty-one to five.

Nik topped up their drinks while the two teams disappeared off the pitch, and returned with a flushed face after a suspiciously long time away. "You snuck into the changing rooms, didn't you?" She asked as she took the beer.

"Da," Nik confessed, shifting in his seat. "I did not stay long. He had a briefing to do."

"Of course he did," Laswell said, chuckling. No doubt Nik had gone to admire John in his kit up close; all that clinging lycra and polyester around John's frame. For a man, John had one hell of an ass. She was surprised Nik wasn't foaming at the mouth every time John bent over to receive the ball from the breakdown.

The second half started shortly after Nik's return. The army started with the ball this time, kicking it into the second half and chasing after it to shut down the offence before they could make ground.

The navy had apparently had what John would call a bollocking, because they were back to their form of the first twenty minutes, hitting hard and punishing gaps. Nik frowned as John was tackled for the third time in ten minutes. "They are targeting him," he growled.

"Oh yeah," a man to their left chimed in, "reckon their skipper told 'em to break that one's legs."

"Nik, it's trash talk," Laswell warned as the big Russian suddenly coiled with tension. "They will try to close down any advantages. He's one of them."

She, perhaps, spoke too soon, because the next hit made John stay down a bit longer, and he disappeared under a pile of bodies that dwarfed even him. When he finally got to his feet, there was blood streaming from his eyebrow. The ref blew his whistle and pointed at John's face, then the sidelines. He didn't even argue his case, chucking his armband to the scrum half's hand before jogging over to the medic, replaced by a sub.

Nik had been on his feet throughout, and now tracked John to the sidelines with his eyes, no doubt scrutinising his gait for abnormality. "It is superficial," Nik said, perhaps convincing himself not to vault the stands. "He will go back on."

"After being kicked in the head?"

Nik frowned, arms folded over his chest. He wasn't happy about it either.

As predicted, John returned to the pitch at the next blow of the whistle, his head wrapped in bandages and tape. The army had put up a valiant defence while he'd been off, and did so for the rest of the game, allowing only one more try to sneak through and returning it threefold. The final score at the end was forty-two to twelve in favour of the army, and the boisterous celebrations on the pitch carried on through the sportsmanlike cheers exchanged by both teams, followed by handshakes and cheers for the ref.

Nik and Laswell picked their way through the stands to the main bar to wait for John to emerge from the changing rooms. Another thing she quite liked about this sport in particular was that the players cleaned up in shirts and ties before they were allowed out. She had thought it was a services thing, a hang up about order and respectability, but no, they even observed the rule at club level. It was about respecting the clubhouse, the fans, the game and each other.

It took John about thirty minutes to arrive, his white shirt and green tie neatly pressed, wool trousers belted at his waist. Nik was on him in seconds, one hand taking his jaw, tilting his head left and right, to inspect the cut through his eyebrow. "Nik," John said through a soft laugh, "s'olright, been checked over."

"For concussion?"

"Yeah. Just a stud scrape. Nothin' dramatic."

Nik's hand slipped around the back of John's neck and Laswell could see the desperate desire to kiss his partner flash over his face, but in the end he only nodded and drew away. She sighed. So much had changed, and yet so much stayed the same.

"Kate, you made it," John said, that Quokka-smile in place and big arms enclosed her in a hug.

"Oh, I was in the area." She returned the embrace and then pushed the pint of bitter into his hands. "Well-earned, I think."

"Huh, yeah, 'm fuckin' knackered," he admitted, wiping the foam from his moustache after he took a sip. "A few of the lads want to do a crawl through the local bars, but I'm gonna turn in. Monday's chocka."

"I don't blame you," Laswell said, hopping onto a stool. "I thought you'd play soccer, you know."

"Rugby is a gentleman's sport and the captain is a gentleman." Nik sat next to her, his elbows on the bar. "Soccer is for thugs and idiots, no?"

"Hoohoo, shit, don't let Simon hear you say that, Nik," John said, leaning his hip against the bar at Nik's side. "You'd have to sleep with one eye open."

"So, the Liverpool scarf is just for show." Laswell recalled the tattered old thing hanging up in a frame in John's office. It sat right next to his medals of valour and a photograph of the 141 in Belgrade.

"Naw, once a Red always a Red."

"That means something very different where I am from," Nik said lightly.

Laswell chuckled low in her throat and John threw his arm around Nik's shoulder for a squeeze. They stayed until the man of the match was announced and, unsurprisingly, John had been selected by the team for his try.

He received the award in the same understated way he did his medals; a thank you to his team and to the panel, then 'all the best' before heading back to his drink. Once again Laswell watched Nik swallow the desire to demonstrate the affection bubbling beneath his skin. She was glad for Nik that John would require plenty of care this evening; an opportunity to dote to his heart's content.

Despite the generally positive experience, she was glad to flop into the backseat of Nik's hired Audi, watching the streets of London flit by as they left the pitch behind. By the time they dropped her off at the hotel, John was struggling to keep his eyes open, slumped low in the front seat, his arms folded tightly across his chest as if to hold himself together. She exchanged a look with Nik in the rearview mirror, the creases around his eyes betraying his knowing grin. John was clinging on for her benefit. Sweet, but unnecessary.

She opened the door but leaned forward to squeeze his shoulder before stepping out. "Well done today."

"Cheers," he said sleepily, one of his big paws parting over the top of her palm. "Thanks again. 'ppreciate it."

"Any time, John. I enjoyed myself. See you soon."

She patted Nik's shoulder too and he touched her wrist in return, before she left them to head to a well-earned rest in their Premier Inn. Hopefully a kiss too, or Nik might just implode.

Nik managed to convince John into a bath with the promise of a glass of whiskey. Without it, he would be stiffer in the morning and not in a way they could enjoy.

Once John was settled amongst the bubbles, Nik sat at the side with a pillow beneath his rear, one hand in the water to stroke whatever part of John happened to be near, while the other held a novel open against his thigh.

"Thanks for comin' today," John said in the comfortable quiet. His voice was soft, his eyes lidded. He had sunk lower, the waterline lapping at his collarbone.

"Of course. I enjoyed watching you in your element, John."

"It was the... uh, first time someone's come t' see me play."

Nik let the novel fall closed and twisted, resting his chin on the edge of the tub. "Have you not invited the sergeants, or the lieutenant?"

"Ah, they have better things to do 'n come and watch me play rugger at the weekend."

"I think you underestimate how much your team loves and admires you."

John hummed in the way he did when he wanted to argue but knew it was a losing fight. Nik got that noise more and more these days when it came to John's perception of other's opinions of him. He had an accurate and pragmatic understanding of his own abilities when it came to work, but that didn't seem to translate into a sound understanding of how much he was admired. The hum was a step forward towards acceptance, in Nik's opinion.

"You will invite them next time."

"Oh will I?"

"Da. And they will feel honoured by the invitation."

"What if I get my arse kicked? Almost did today."

"Then they will be there to pick you back up again, as they are in the field."

John fell silent, heaving a sigh through his nose. Nik gathered his legs underneath him and slipped his second hand in the water to caress the aching body within it. He ran the backs of his fingers over John's chest, down the valleys of his abdomen to the v-shape dips of his hips, and finally to his thighs.

"How are these?"

"Sore. They'll be fi--mm, Nik...'

"Is good?"

"Mmhm."

Nik rubbed his thumbs in firm circles, feeling knots and tension pop beneath them, and watched John's expression melt back into relaxation. He moved from one leg to the other, working his way up slowly across the large expanse of muscle to John's hip.

"Enjoyin' yerself?" John asked, an eye popping open to study Nik's face.

"Da. Watching your legs today was... hm, it made me want to spread them in the shower and demonstrate my admiration."

If it wasn't for the warm water, John would have flushed, but Nik was content by the shy smile he got instead. "In front of the entire team, eh? Filthy git," John mumbled.

"If you would enjoy others watching me make love to you, then I would consider it."

"Fuckin' 'ell, Nik," John said, scrubbing a hand across his face. His body betrayed him though, because the mere thought of it has caused his prick to harden enough to peak just above the surface. Nik tickled up the inside of John's thighs to his sac, fingertips stroking the heavy weight of it in the warm water. John's knees tilted out to give Nik access and he reached for Nik's chin with one wet hand, guiding him down for a kiss.

Nik kissed greedily as he played gently between John's legs, revelling in the vulnerability of his lover's exhausted body surrendering to the tenderness he offered. His tongue swept into John's mouth, licking the taste of whiskey from his teeth, the tip brushing the ridges of his pallet, sucking his tongue, his lips, before sinking lower to kiss his neck.

John made soft noises of pleasure, his heels skidding across the ceramic of the tub, damp fingers winding into Nik's hair. In the warmth of the water, his skin was soft, sensitive, and Nik knew how to touch him. Had spent many a night learning what made John moan and sigh, how his entire body was a map of erogenous zones desperate for a gentle hand that Nik was more than willing to provide.

When Nik encircled John's prick, stroking slowly back and forth, John let out a pleased sigh. "Fuck, Nik... Dunno whether I have the energy."

"You do not need it. Let me look after you."

"Would prefer t' give as good as I get. Ahh, fuck, Nik..."

Nik soaped his hand using the pump at the side of the bath and returned to John's eager prick. Tired he may be, but his body yearned for Nik as much as Nik's did for him. Nik kept a firm pressure, squeezing a little former on the upstroke, precum splashing over the edge of his fist. "John, you are so beautiful... You are so desperate for me."

"Yeah, Nik, haa, ah, god fuck, I'm close already..."

"Come for me then. Do not hold back. I will have you tomorrow, spread your legs and take what I want..."

"Fuck..."

"I know you wanted me to take you in that changing room, your blood running hot--"

"Ahh, Nik, fu--"

"--I know you wanted to touch yourself in the shower, thinking of me--"

"Mm, yeah, yeah, please, Nik..."

"I know what you need, I know how you ache for it, how you want to be filled by my cock and fucked well."

John latched onto the edge of the tub as he came, his thighs and stomach pulling tight, head pushing back as his cock pulsed in Nik's hand. Nik slowed his stroke, milking out the aftershocks as John gasped.

Nik kissed him lightly on the lips as his pleasure faded to throbbing embers, releasing his softening prick to rinse his hand. "Beautiful."

"Just nutted to dirty talk. Not sure beautiful's really the word."

"You do not see yourself as I do," Nik replied, admiring the brightness in those blue eyes, the ruffled hair, the flush. Beautiful was too empty a word for the majesty of John Price, but it would suffice for now. "Time for bed, John. Come."

Nik helped John out of the bath, teasing him about his shaking legs as he helped dry him with a second towel. John slipped naked into the soft, clean sheets Nik wasn't complaining; it would be easier to tease him open tomorrow morning. He was asleep and snoring softly before Nik had even switched the lamp off, the pillow clutched under his head.

Before Nik could sleep, he worked himself over to a swift and gutless orgasm that would allow him to sleep, knowing full well he would be satisfying himself in John come the morning. He fell asleep admiring the peaceful lines of John's face, eternally grateful he had the honour of calling John his.

#captain john price #cod nikolai #nikprice #kate laswell #writing an american and remembering ass not arse #spoilt writing british pov for cod #i am so hard done by oh woe #yes nik is sober when he drives #but what are they gonna do? take his license away? ahahaha

222 notes · View notes

nanamineedstherapy · 19 days ago

Text

Controversial Opinion: The Anti-Sugar Baby Manifesto

Okay, so... does anyone else not want to be Nanami’s sugar baby, Gojo’s dependent, Sukuna’s servant, or insert your favorite emotionally unavailable man’s sidekick?

I’ve read (and loved!) plenty of fics where the reader is in one of these roles. And honestly, there’s nothing wrong with enjoying them—power to you if that’s your vibe! But if we’re talking canon or even slightly realistic scenarios… yeah, I just can’t.

Before you start throwing tomatoes 🍅, hear me out. I promise this isn’t a hate post—just my thots.

Alright, buckle up because I’m about to destroy your sugar baby and servant fantasies with my unsolicited, unhinged takes.

Nanami Kento:

You wanna be Ken Doll’s sugar baby? Cute, but be serious. This man is one passive-aggressive comment away from throwing himself into traffic because he hates capitalism that much. He chose exorcisms and certain death over Excel sheets. Excel sheets, babe. If you think he’s gonna work overtime to buy you Versace, you’re delusional.

If I were with him, I’d work harder at my job (I hate corporate too, but not more than I love Nanami) and funnel my salary straight to him. He’d handle it responsibly because I’d just blow it on expensive pens, another PC, and iced tea. But also? I’d keep an emergency fund. Trust no one. Not even your man.

Let’s not forget the workplace romance trope. This man is the epitome of professionalism. He’d never date his coworker, let alone his secretary. Not because you’re not amazing, but because the power imbalance would haunt him. Like, he’d wake up in a cold sweat thinking about HR policies. And I respect that about him bcs same.

Also, please don’t get involved with someone who promises love and then runs to HR if his job’s on the line. (Not Nanami but in general advice.)

The stats don’t lie, and I’m not about to become the next cautionary tale in a LinkedIn post.

Gojo Satoru:

You wanna date Gojo? Cute. Except he wouldn’t date you, let alone spoil you. He wouldn’t date anyone. He’s emotionally constipated, a walking trauma fest, hyperfocused on being the strongest sorcerer alive™️, and allergic to vulnerability.

Most fics turn him into this suave flirt, but let’s be real—canon Gojo struggles with human interaction beyond being a troll. He’s a nerdy dork, so his game is shit even if he wanted to date you.

Y’all write him as this rich sugar daddy, but in reality? He’d spend your entire relationship trolling you, gaslighting you into thinking he’s a “normal guy,” and then disappearing for weeks because he’s busy babysitting teenagers and battling his inner demons.

Also, sugar babies love his money, but be honest—you don’t even like him; you like his black card. Gojo deserves better than being your walking ATM, and you deserve better than a man who’d eat your last snack just because he can.

Gifts are cute, but if he’s doing all the work while I’m chilling? That’s just freeloading.

I'm yet to come across a fic where he takes the time to realize he even wants a relationship, instead of being a pre-established fuckboy who suddenly changes because he found the 'right person.' Let’s be real, that’s not how it works. We shouldn’t glorify men for changing after finding the right person or excuse their past behavior, including any STDs they may have/had.

(Note to self: In future fics, explore his struggle to admit he wants a relationship and the challenges he faces in figuring out how to be in one.)

Haibara Yu:

So, you’re thinking about dating Haibara? Buckle up, ‘cause you’re signing up for a rollercoaster ride where the tracks are constantly under construction. Haibara’s got the energy of someone who just found out about sarcasm, but also the emotional depth of a puddle.

This guy’s all fun and games until you realize he’s like a cat that wants attention, but only on his terms. He’ll say the most unbothered things with that sunshine stare of his, but don’t be fooled. That’s his way of hiding his entire emotional baggage.

One minute, he’s sarcastic and aloof, and the next, he’s unexpectedly clingy, wanting to know if you still like him (even though he’d never admit it). You’ll spend half your time wondering if he actually likes you or if he’s just in a perpetual state of "I’m too cool for this."

Does he care? Absolutly. Expect texts like "I'm fine" followed by a cryptic emoji and zero context.

Dates? Don’t hold your breath. He's too busy trying to be taken seriously.

He’s not a millionaire either. Don’t expect a big grand gesture. His idea of spoiling you? Buying you a drink from the convenience store, giving you stale candy and maybe, just maybe, sending you a playlist of sad songs that “remind him of you.” Yeah, romantic, I know.

He’s not gonna spoil you with gifts, but he’ll share his last pack of gum like it’s the greatest act of love ever. Don’t expect consistency, just an occasional burst of affection sandwiched between long silences and sarcastic banter.

Would he be loyal? Absolutely. Would he constantly second-guess himself and need reassurance that you're not going to leave him because he doesn’t know how to talk about his feelings? Definitely.

Prepare to give him more emotional support than you ever signed up for. Would he adore you? Yes, but he’ll probably think it’s too much work to actually show it. But hey, if you’re into emotional chaos and not knowing where you stand, Haibara’s your guy.

You probably only like him because you know nothing about him.

Ryomen Sukuna:

The “servant/concubine” trope is insane. INSANE. You think Sukuna, the literal King of Curses, is gonna treat you like anything more than a chew toy? The power imbalance isn’t sexy—it’s electric chair. You’d either die mid-hookup (his hands alone could snap you in half) or be tossed into a volcano because you sneezed too loudly.

Be fr—he’d accidentally (or on purpose) kill anyone he sleeps with. The man’s a giant sadist, naturally rough, and has zero chill.

Romance? Nonexistent. Sukuna’s idea of flirting is probably something like, “You’re less annoying than most humans. Barely.” That’s not romantic; that’s verbal abuse with extra steps.

Toji Fushiguro:

This one hurts because Toji’s hot but this man has no money. None. Zero. If you want to date him, you better be ready to cover rent, groceries, and his “post-mission beer fund" because his entire paycheck goes toward sharpening his sword, buying protein powder, and gambling.

Let’s not forget he has a dead wife, and he went off the deep end after her death. Even if you could somehow 'fix' him like the unlicensed therapist you are because you have nothing better to do, he’s a vengeful widower who would leave you randomly for missions—and might not return because he’s driven by the insecurity of proving the Zenins wrong, which would get him killed.

Plus, he’d bring up his dead wife in every argument, saying things like, “She wasn’t this nagging; she didn’t do this or that.” People tend to glorify the dead, and he’d be the prime example of that. How could you compete with the memories of someone his mind has declared perfect?

He’s everyone's wet dream, sure, but do you really wanna date a guy who’d ghost you and leave you with his kid?

And don’t even get me started on his love language. It’s probably, “I killed a guy for you.” That’s cute until the cops show up at your door asking questions.

He might toss you a bone (not like that, calm down), but the idea of me paying for someone who might not even text me back? Pass.

Kamo Choso:

Sweetest man alive. Too pure for this world. But dating him would be like adopting a sad, traumatized puppy who cries every time you leave the room. You’d spend your entire relationship comforting him and Googling “how to help my boyfriend stop mourning his 17 dead brothers.”

He’s too busy laser-focusing on Yuji and going through an identity crisis to even think about being in a relationship. I’d want to protect him, not date him.

Also, his skincare routine is probably better than yours, which is cute until you realize you’ll never be the pretty one in the relationship.

Geto Suguru:

Ah, Babygurl Suguwu. Love him to death (pun intended), but dating him sounds like lifelong therapy.

Do you really wanna date a guy who’s juggling a cult, unresolved trauma, and genocidal tendencies?

His love language is probably “eliminating humanity,” and unless you’re down to join his pyramid scheme of sorcerer supremacy, this is not gonna work.

Also, you will forever be second place to the Gojo-fucking-Satoru.

Be serious. You will never win that chase. He'll leave you mid-sex to go see his 'one & only' babe.

Kashimo Hajime:

Kashimo would date you for the sole purpose of fighting you. He doesn’t want love; he wants violence—he’s looking for someone who can throw hands.

Imagine coming home after a 10-hour shift at work, exhausted, and this man’s standing in your living room like, “I’ve been waiting to test my new technique on you.” No, sir, I want a nap.

And don’t think you can just say no. He’d follow you to the grocery store, the dentist, your grandma’s funeral, like, “We fight now!”

Hiromi Higuruma:

Now, this man’s tempting. Responsible, classy, knows how to argue (a lawyer, duh), but... he’s also on the verge of a midlife crisis.

Do you really wanna date someone who’s one bad day away from snapping? You’d spend most of your time convincing him he’s not a terrible person, and honestly, I don’t have the emotional bandwidth for that. Therapy is expensive, and I already have PTSD from my ex.

Also, he’d probably start arguments just to win them. You think you’re ready for that kind of intellectual warfare 24*7?

Shiu Kong:

Do you like mafia drama? Because that’s what you’re signing up for. Mafia life isn’t sexy—it’s stressful.

You’d be dodging bullets, interrogating his “coworkers” about his whereabouts, and wondering if he’s about to betray you for a promotion.

Also, he's an asshole who's going to disappear after he's done with you; go see the scene before Toji died. Hard pass.

Kusakabe Atsuya:

This man is the king of doing the bare minimum. His love language is probably “napping,” and while that’s cute in theory, it’s less cute when he cancels date night because he “forgot” he had to sleep.

Honestly, he’d be a great friend, but as a partner? You’d be babysitting him.

Takuma Ino:

You wanna date Ino? Adorable. But let’s be real, you’re signing up for 24/7 unpaid emotional labor. Ino’s a golden retriever boy who desperately wants validation, and you’d basically be his therapist, hype woman, and emotional punching bag all rolled into one.

He’d shower you with attention (cute, right?) until you realize he’s also incredibly insecure and needs constant reassurance that he’s “doing a good job.” You’d be his number one fan and his HR department.

He’s not rich either. Like, at all. His idea of spoiling you would be buying you snacks from the konbini and taking you to the movies with coupons. Don’t expect luxury here—expect a man who puts in effort but forgets anniversaries because he was too busy stressing about being a sorcerer who no one takes seriously.

Would he adore you? Yes. Would you want to be adored by someone who still Googles “how to ask her out” while you’re already dating? I’ll let you decide.

Final Thots-

At the end of the day, I’d rather have my own independence than rely on someone else to “take care of me.”

I want a partner—not a sugar daddy, not a servant-master dynamic, not a walking red flag, and definitely not a paycheck.

I'd rather have a househusband who's retired and relaxed than an overworked sugar daddy—or worse, a dead one. Is that too much to ask?

Anyway, this is just my opinion!

If you love those tropes—go off; that’s totally valid. I’m not yucking anyone’s yum. We all have our preferences, and that’s what makes fandom fun.

No hate, just vibes.

Thanks for coming to my TED Talk. I’ll see myself out. 👋

If you still wanna fight, my comments are open, although I will reply like the guy you are fighting for.

111 notes · View notes

suedoodle · 6 months ago

Note

Hi there, SueDoodle!

I apologise. This is not so much a question as just a simple comment - please ignore it if it is exhaustive/impudent of me! After viewing your work and awaiting new pieces with bated breath for a while now, I just wanted to express my enjoyment of your works (regardless of the fandom, it seems), and as I write too much to comment on a single one of your posts in the scope that they deserve, I have had to resort to pestering you directly. The attention to detail that you apply to each and every one of your sketches, no matter how simple, always has a hidden depth of intricacy that is astounding and such a pleasure to see. Little things like how your artworks are always so personal and mindful of each character's individuality. For your Trolls Band Together pictures, the detailing in Spruce's hair, for instance, when released from the towel when cleaning his facial products off baby Branch's face. How it flares and juts out in different directions as natural hair should. How you maintain his 'heartthrob/half lidded eyes'. It is not only the maintaining of character features, but also your clever and lovely adaptations. Your Bitty B, as an example, so so much more compact (specifically in the noggin department!) which just underpins the cuteness of scenes with him, and I feel it also expands the amount of activities that you are able to draw baby Branch engaging in and not have half your sketch hidden by his canonically large/trollish head.

I have always loved Mario and Luigi's designs, despite only playing ONE GAME with them (shameshame) but as I enjoyed your artwork so much, I have taken to asking my better half more about the characters and games and fanart that you have created for them so that I can understand their origins more, but also share your excellent pieces with said half as they are VERY artistically picky indeed and I was so confident in your style and ideas that I just knew they would love your work, too. I was correct. The scenes that you have made with the characters thus far are absolutely gorgeous and a real pleasure to see. Your recent roller skating coloured art, AND the subsequent 'younger Brozone sleepover' artwork was a real treat, thank you. I wonder what their bedtime situation would be when Floyd and Branch's go-to method of bathing seems to be a 10 storey waterslide? Not really something that is going to wind you down into a mood for sleep. Maybe it's a Troll thing. Thank you so much, and please continue to post your inspiring and wholesome and stellar artwork forever and ever~!

Thank you for the compliments. I try my best; studying to improve never ends ✍️

#SueDoodle #brozone #branch trolls #bitty b #floyd trolls #john dory trolls #spruce trolls #clay trolls #trolls band together #dreamworks trolls #trolls

370 notes · View notes

omniuravity · 2 months ago

Text

Dating the Sins

Tags: @bloodypeachblog @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered @pinkhimecat @je-suis-eternel-jennie

Warning: Some of these headcanons are NSFW, Minors DNI. No major content warnings this time! Spoilers for Mastermind!

This has been in the works for a while, but with Mastermind coming out recently, I added the other 3 sins, so this includes everybody!

Asmodeus

SFW:

Ozzie is probably the most attentive partner a person could ask for.

He's always there to love and support you even if he is a bit of a hypocrite when it comes to love.

He loves showing you off even if he isn't always willing to show how much he loves you in public.

He spoils you a lot. He loves making you happy, and gifts are his way of showing it.

NSFW:

He is also an excellent partner in bed. He tends to care more about your pleasure than his own.

He's tried just about every kink in the book, so he definitely doesn't mind indulging in whatever you please.

Ozzie will pull out all the stops when it comes to having sex with you. Flowers, candles, a nice date with you, everything to remind you that he loves you.

A lot of those gifts Ozzie likes to give you are toys from his collection.

Beelzebub

SFW:

Bee isn't as attentive as Ozzie, but she still does love and support her partner.

She brings you to all her parties as her partner and arm candy. She loves showing you off for the world to see.

She does tend to flirt with other demons, but she makes sure you know that she loves you.

She also enjoys spoiling her partner with dates and food.

NSFW:

She's also a good partner in bed, but tends to care equally about her pleasure and yours.

Bee is very experienced in bed, not as experienced as Ozzie, but experienced.

When Bee isn't getting high, she's horny for you. Her sex drive is very high.

Bee is also into having sex in semi-public places. She'll drag you away from her party to go have sex with you in another room.

Mammon

SFW:

Mammon sometimes forgets he has a partner, however when he remembers he spoils the fuck out of you in his own way.

Mammon isn't big on displaying you for the world to see. You're his after all, only he deserves to see your cute face.

He isn't very caring in public, keeping up is tough image. However, he does care for you in private.

He will brag about you to the other sins. Every meeting he goes to, he'll always talk about you and how much he spoils you.

NSFW:

He is a bit selfish in bed, but he doesn't mind pleasing you.

Mammon likes to use his own line of toys to pleasure you. His aren't nearly as well made as Ozzie's, but they feel good nonetheless.

Mammon has very little experience, but he always tries his best for you.

When he's bored during a show he'll let you sit on his lap, then put his dick in you and have you cockwarm him as he watches the show.

Lucifer

SFW:

Lucifer is so awkward in your relationship. The last one he had was Lilith, so he's afraid of losing you.

He prefers to keep his dates with you at home. He doesn't mind showing you off, but prefers to spend one on one time with you.

Luci is the master of at home dates. Movie night, game night, home cooked meals, anything you want, he'll try his best to provide.

He loves cuddling with you, especially while he wraps his wings around you.

NSFW:

He is a switch and will either top or bottom, depending on your mood.

Lucifer's wings are an erogenous zone, and he loves it when you touch them.

Lucifer loves having gentle pillow talk after having sex. He just wants to let you know how much he cares.

He tries to keep his horniness at bay, especially when he's at the hotel. However, those little cute things you do. The way you smile to yourself when you do something that makes you happy, and when yiu giggle to yourself. That's what really turns him on.

Satan

SFW:

Satan tries to control his anger around you, especially. He doesn't want his partner to be afraid of him.

His assistant got him into crystals, chakras, and meditation, so he tries to help you out with anything bothering you in that way. Like, he gives you a black tourmaline bracelet to wear so it could help boost your self-confidence, or he lets you join him in meditation or yoga sessions.

He likes taking his partner to his private horse ranch and riding horses with them.

He values your opinion and will hear you out on whatever you talk about. Whether it’s about someone who cut you off in traffic that morning, or any topic you read on your phone that bugs the shit outta you, he’ll listen to your side and wait til you’re done before he shares his views.

NSFW:

Satan always tops. No question. He will let you ride after a long day, but he is always in charge.

During any court hearing, when it goes on too long, Satan tends to let his mind drift at times. Sometimes it drifts to daydreams of having you pinned underneath him or against the wall, or even bending you over his chair and ramming into your holes until you’re praising him and are fucked out of your mind. His assistant would have to bring him back to reality. Lucifer forbid he had a boner from those daydreams during a hearing.

He is REALLY proud of the size of his dick. He loves to hear you squealing and squirming in pleasure over how his cock stretches you out.

He is one romantic mofo when he wants to be. Rose petals, wine, poems, candles, etc. Oh, this man, he’ll fuck you gently.

Leviathan

SFW:

Both sides can have their disagreements, but both can agree on one thing: They love you so damn much.

Dates are a little difficult keeping both sides of her satisfied, but usually, they try to come to a compromise for your sake.

If you’re not comfortable with smoke, the left side of her tends to complain and go ‘deal with it’, but the right side makes an effort to try to step away and smoke.

The right side is more romantic than the left. The right side prefers to write poems and love letters while the left side buys you gifts and wants to take you on dates.

NSFW:

Usually, when they want to have sex with you, her right side wants to top while the left wants to bottom.

She is very kinky and likes it when her partner touches her tail.

The left side is much more kinky than the right.

Pool sex! Lots of pool sex.

Belphegor

SFW:

Most dates consist of cuddling and sleeping together, though she'll occasionally want to go out with you.

She loves having her partner play with and groom her wool since she sometimes neglects herself.

She tries her best to remind you to take your meds.

She is very cuddly with you.

NSFW:

She's a pillow princess, she will rarely if ever top.

She does try and stay awake during sex since she's usually tired, but sometimes it doesn't work. Though she does like having sex while she's asleep.

She is very quiet during sex. You first though it was because she wasn't enjoying it, but she's just tired.

She wants you to feel happy during sex, so she tries her best to let you know how she feels.

114 notes · View notes

sangreprince · 4 months ago

Text

I wanna keep this brief (graphic design is my passion level effort but also it kinda works in a really funny way) !!! I wanna let you all know I appreciate the love you've given Zagreus and I'm so so happy to be here. You're all great and wonderful and I could say so many good things to say about each and every one of my mutuals. So fuck it, that's what I'mma do. Because you all truly deserve it. I'm super happy with Zagreus and being able to share my portrayal and have it be well received means so much !!! It's easy to say 'thank you all so much' but I want to acknowledge that I truly do appreciate and care about each and every one of my mutuals, even if my time / availability makes it tough at times. PART 1/4

@withinchains / @hercarnality : Elle you already know how much ily so I'm gonna keep this short. You're such an amazing friend and writer and you already have the screenshot about me gushing pinned so eat my shorts and play arams with me. Your Morgana is to die for and you write every character to a fucking T because of how you just interpret all their personalities and put them into words SO effortlessly.

@lasraichean : NEMO U SMELL LIKE BEEF and I think you're fantastic. You pour so much effort into all your OCs and that passion does you so much credit. You absolutely shower Annie with love in such a way that I shower everyone else with unrequested amounts of fromsoft lore so MWAH.

@blackrosesmatron : Lucy your LB is fantastic and you're so easy to talk to and communicate with. Genuinely every time we sit down and plot I find myself getting so enthralled in her antics and character. You do her so much justice

@avernusfuries : HAN You single handedly made me like Karlach and that isn't even a joke. Before we met and started writing I always thought her story was one of the weaker ones and you somehow managed to turn her into one of the more realized characters in the game. HATS OFF TO YOU and every day I beg for more of this big doofus.

@feuerwizard : Crys I know I need to get back to you for plotting things, I've just been so busy but I want to say: You and some of the other CR writers you write with are so talented and I adore reading your posts. Were it not for you guys I still probably wouldn't have any interest in CR and I'm so so excited to get started with more stuff and actually get threads going!

@soulcluster : Lilah I think all your portrayals are excellent. Your MM deserves all the attention it gets and I honestly couldn't pick a favorite muse if gave me truth serum. Plotting with you is a blast and I'm so thankful for all the ideas we pass between eachother!

@pitgritted : Your Sett, Taric, and Mutli are all so well done Jojo. I can tell you really care about all the people you write and it shines so brightly, right down the amount of detail you place into every reply and how you format things. Passion shows in the end and this is no exception!!

@palespawn : This sassy motherfucker. We've only just started writing and I still need to get to replies but you've showed interest since almost day one and I cant say how much I appreciate that. Courtney you do such a beautiful job with the twink, I almost dont wanna stab him. Almost~

@infinitysagas : I first of all wanna say thank you for writing such underappreciated characters. To see Damon get love brings me so much joy, I always take a second to read his posts when I see them come up. I know we haven't done a ton but please know that I see your writing and totally wanna do stuff, I'm just very busy skdjhf.

@deathdxnces : Irelia was a character I never cared about too much, but how you humanize her so much and have expanded on her character beyond what Riot's given us does SO much for me. I actually adore how you portray her, Mel, and I wish to get writing at some point soon!! I know you liked a starter a bit ago and I do plan to get to that, but please do not hesitate to hit me up for plotting in the meantime. It really does help and I promise I don't bite!!

@tealbeats : I know you're not super active on Ez (and I still owe you a lot of stuff actually) but I wanna say I love the amount of his personality you're able to paint into every interaction. You have such a way of making him the perfect amount of insufferable (in the best way) while still twisting it in SUCH an endearing light. I love that annoying little bug and I'm so glad you do too, because it really shows.

@agonizedembrace : Han it's been really nice to reach out and get into contact again. You're genuinely a really funny, interesting, and thoughtful person who cares about Evelynn in such a way that brings out every aspect of her character. The agony, the sex appeal, the sass, the confidence, you just nail all of it and I'm really hoping we can get stuff going soon!

@bendwill : Elder scrolls blogs are few and far between, but Miraak is absolutely one of those characters that deserves to be more written out. We haven't gotten to do a ton but please don't hesitate to hit me up and scream ideas at me, the idea of Tamrielic Zagreus is very fascinating to me. (And also I need somebody to ramble about my Oblivion D&D Campaign ideas with skdfjh)

@ofweave : First of all, trans gale is based as fuck and you have a vision. Second of all, I know you're on hiatus but once you come back I'd be so happy to get the ball rolling with this stinky wizard man!!

@kismetwilled : I'm not gonna lie, seeing how you pour effort into your headcanons and thoughtful replies kind of inspired me to do similar with my own. I also want to say that I'd love to plot more and yell ideas all day with you, your style is gorgeous and I find myself appreciating characters on your blog I've never even heard of or are barely familiar with. Seriously Dani, it's top tier and I'm so happy to be mutuals.

@enrogued : We haven't gotten anything started with but I'm so hyped. Rogue as a character has such fascinating potential with her powers, and that's not to mention her attitude towards others in general. Once stuff gets started I'm probably never gonna shut up in your DMs but like that's a constant sdfjkh STILL!!

@lunarrepel : Shadowheart my beloved. The aesthetics, writing, dialog, everything you do with her is SO on point and I can't get over it. I was already biased and liked her after Larian adjusted her a bit during the beta phase of BG3 but still. Man you just nail her and I'm so excited to develop these two out. They give wine aunt energy and THAT alone gives me so much life.

@dreadgloom / @cinderschild : I wont lie to you I was GIDDY when I found out you wrote a WoTR character. I honestly expected that fandom to have more of a presence on tumblr but I'll take what small fanclub we can get right?? And also can I comment on the takes you have from Salvatore are absolutely genius and play really well into WoTC's drow?? Genuinely fantastic worldbuilding and it's always a pleasure to see you crop up on the dash.

@nightsbloom : Your headcanons and replies have been gorgeus and I just want to say despite me being really busy and not getting around to approaching yet, I'm so excited??? Also a while back you reblogged a Qimir gifset and it's still living rent free in my head so thank you for the food chef--- Please though, if you have any thoughts or even just dynamic ideas - toss them at me at mach 5 and I will run with them because I'm HYPE.

@spiderwarden : I think you officially win the title of Minthara's #1 fan. Her performance (as I've mentioned) is absolutely captivating, as is your writing. I'm very excited to see where her interactions with Zagreus go and writing with you (or even just seeing your random hc posts and comments) is such a blast. I will always sit down and listen to you ramble about her, I think she's so fascinating and that's in no small part to how you manage to inject so much life and love into her despite all the cut content.

#| mun. |#I LOVE Y'ALL SM #I wasnt sure how to thank you all in the right way so I just #thanked you all #KJFHDKJFDHKDF #IT MEANS THE WORLD TO ME AND TO THOSE WHO I HAVENT INTERACTED WITH?? Please #Please send me stuff bc I see you and I want to do things!!

92 notes · View notes

xthescarletbitch · 1 year ago

Text

bg3 ladies giving the strap (x reader)

18+, minors do NOT interact

cw: afab!reader!receiving said strap-on (i could not figure out how i wanted to write otherwise, i'm sorry)

word count: 700+

author’s note: proofread? don’t be silly! these are just my goofy little thoughts that hit as i was playing the game and thinking about fucking the ladies i just wrote about. @happysparklingshadows got to this idea first, so please go give her the attention she deserves (it’s delicious). <3

lae'zel

lae'zel starts rough

(but don’t worry, she’ll get you completely ready and wet first ;))

and then she’ll end off even rougher

i swear it’s like she wants to break you in half

she has to slam into you at such an unforgiving pace

the strength stat does not lie!!

i also think she’s a big fan of watching your face, and pussy, as it takes her strap

moaning and groaning, watching it split you open, as well as your face of pure bliss

that kind of reaction makes her want to pound even harder

she also thinks it’s an excellent workout, and that’s why she won’t do it half-assed

she just wants a big orgasm from the both of you, and she will get it

one thing about lae'zel is that she is devoted!!

there will be marks if you’re into that

sources of each other’s bruises, you know

minthara

minthara would give you time to adjust, sure, but she can be so impatient

she’ll start rubbing your clit to get things moving (and most likely continue to do so)

once you’re ready to take her even more, that’s when she’d get rougher

her stroke game is something else

rolling her hips into yours, wanting to get as deep as she can each time

she may even put your legs over her shoulders so she can get even deeper

and she will not be going slowly, either

just imagine her grunting as she ruts into you, not even giving either of you a break to catch your breath

i also think she’s a massive fan of seeing your eyes roll

or honestly just the overall being so consumed by the pleasure that your face says it all

she’ll hold your hands above your head as she pounds away, looking for the telltale sign that she’s doing a good job

and while going fast and deep is a favourite, she’ll know what your body needs

oh, and if double-sided dildos are a thing, just know she’d be using that

shadowheart

shadowheart seems like she’d be so gentle with it

she would want to give you all the time to adjust, no matter the size

her strap would go in slowly with her eyes watching your face intently to ensure she’s doing alright as she gets even deeper

she would definitely be careful about her thrusts, pulling out slowly and then keeping the same pace back in

(she’ll still go deep, though)

(bottoms out every time she enters you)

the feeling of the strap’s base against her own clit drives her insane, though

and she’ll chase that feeling

so, maybe she’ll get a little bit rougher to get off herself, but nothing too strenuous

i think she’s a bit scared of hurting you, even if she knows you could take it harder

at the same time, she doesn’t know if she could take it any harder

i feel like she’d be pretty sensitive, but that’s okay

she makes up for it with the fact that she can scope out your body well, knowing which spot makes you shiver

even when she’s nice and gentle, she’ll constantly be hitting that bullseye

karlach

karlach is another softie i fear

don’t get me wrong, finally being able to put her hands on you makes her go feral

but she also wants to be as tender as she can be

she appreciates the slow love-making sessions where she can just consume you for as long as she can before it’s time to go back out

slowly bottoming out inside of you and then immediately running her hands along your sides, up to your breasts, and then to your face

she just adds so much intimacy to the moment by wanting to feel, and kiss, all of you

she is all about skin-to-skin contact as she’s thrusting away

i also think she’s a fan of the sounds—particularly her strap exiting and entering your sopping hole

“hear that, soldier?”

she’ll say as she pulls out slowly and then slams it back into you

she’ll repeat the pattern until she’s gotten off herself

(which does not take long)

but do not worry!!

karlach is all about multiple rounds

as many as you can take :)

330 notes · View notes

sscieloz · 1 year ago

Text

Until you come back home

Minatozaki Sana x reader

Synopsis: Sana meets you when you come to Seoul to present her company's new American shareholders, falling for you immediately. You get married and have plenty of ups and downs until your marriage finally seems to get happy and stable. That is, until she realizes her son looks exactly like her best friend and shareholder, Momo.

Warnings: g!p Sana, g!p Momo, cheating, toxic relationships, drinking, pregnancy, children (?), cursing. they’re all little shits. if any of that doesn’t appeal to you pls don’t read it.

Word count: 6.6k

Notes: this is v messy, but I wanted it to be messy. it was written in a different style, but that’s because I wasn’t supposed to explain reader and sana’s entire relationship... I understand this can be an unpleasant topic so pls remember it’s only a work of fiction; I don’t condone toxic relationships or any type of cheating. Also I wanted to say this was supposed to be 600 words long n i do hate myself

Sana knew you were special from the first time you entered the room. You were tall, lithe, and imposing—your presence immediately making everyone’s eyes dart around your curves and exquisite appearance. You entered the company—her company, like you owned the place, making it your personal runaway as you paved your way through the hallways, bored eyes critically judging each and every spot of the building like nothing you’d see there would ever surprise you.

Their attention was all on you, from the moment you placed your papers on the table to the last minute of the conference. There was something about the way you held yourself: as if no one was worthy enough of more than a few seconds of your attention. You’ve barely given her a proper look, which fueled a fire within Sana. How could you not immediately fall on your knees for her? She was The Minatozaki Sana, after all: CEO and biggest shareholder of JYP Entertainment. People fought for a single second of her attention, a mere look from her making them immediately do anything she commanded. Yet, you didn’t pay her anything further than a polite, professional conversation, as if she gave a fuck about the meeting. It hurt her pride to have you look so uninterested in her presence, your posture perfectly contained as you took whatever criticism she’d made about your presentation with a neutral face. Of course, you’d exposed your points with excellence, but that wasn’t in the matter anymore: Sana wanted to bring a reaction— anything, out of you… and if she had to use humiliation to get it, then she’d gladly do it.

It was on that very moment, once you were done with your lecture over the potential American shareholders for her Korean-japanese company, that she decided to have you to herself.

Sana had to admit she was a complete jerk, though, being too harsh with you as she gave you her immediate feedback. However, it wasn’t like she was the one to blame for that: it was you who provoked her, trying to act all indifferent and unbothered. You deserved it.

Deep down, Sana knew this wasn’t the simple game she was used to playing whenever people wanted her attention. You genuinely couldn’t care less about her— yes, she was ridiculously hot, but so were thousands of people in your life. Besides, she was too full of herself to your liking.

That aroused her. Secretly pleased her, too.

Still, you didn’t indulge her obvious offense at the conference room, simply nodding and waiting for her employees to leave so you could too.

“I will make sure to take your words further to the shareholders, Mrs Minatozaki. Have a pleasant evening.” You told her, returning her smile with an even more poisonous one.

She could go fuck herself for all you could care.

And so you left, leaving Sana urging to get under your skin and your sheets, the image of your disdained face etched in her brain.

Minatozaki Sana made the transactions to the shareholders way more troublesome than and they should have been. The woman made sure you (and she accepted no one else) flew to Seoul a ridiculous amount of times over months to gather little documents, deliver signatures or simply discuss frivolous contract lines that could’ve been solved with 1 hour long online meetings. It delighted her to see you in tight pencil skirts, discussing whatever she problematized as if Sana wasn’t being the biggest bitch on earth. Not once did you complain — not to her, not to her employees, who you’ve made acquaintances with from how often you saw them. Instead, you played along in her game, returning her poisonous stares with equal fire. You were getting paid to travel, attend luxurious hotels and work significantly less, since your bosses had assigned you to focus solely on this specific matter. Sana might be a bitch, but you could sure benefit from it.

In fact, the unbuttoned shirts and the low necklines you wore were all for her. You enjoyed how worked up she got with the minor things you did. You weren’t stupid: you knew she wanted you, and you partly enjoyed teasing her, too. It was only a matter of when. Which was why, when the woman finally asked you out on a date, you shrugged, agreeing on it without much excitement. The contract was almost closed, and you’d finally be free of this terrible city. You hated Seoul: the cold bothered you too much and the people were much more reserved to your liking, a clear contrast to your beloved San Francisco.

She took you to a fancy restaurant (since, naturally, Sana only went to the best.), and you were surprised, perhaps a bit bitter, too, to know that she was a surprisingly interesting woman— not quite the shallow bitch you first thought. She liked art, nature, movies and she listened to you attentively too, not like people would usually do. It was like she actually listened, and you felt completely exposed at her gaze. Soon enough, you’d spent hours talking to her freely, finding yourself enjoying the evening. It was a pleasant surprise, to have a nice night in Seoul for once. Besides, it was only for some fun, and you were pretty convinced she only wanted to get under your panties because you didn’t pay her that much attention ever since the two of you met. You’d soon go back home and forget about it, so why not? She was a pretty and successful woman, after all.

Besides, Sana did know how to fuck a woman, you got to give her that. You let her drive you safely to your hotel, so it was only natural you invited her over for some fun. She fucked you senseless, her big cock thrusting hard and without mercy onto you until your throat was raw from screaming and moaning her name for hours. You hated to admit, but it was indeed the best sex of your life. Only because of that, you decided to accept her request for a breakfast date before you parted to the airport, surprised she was not disinterested after getting the attention she so desperately wanted. Hadn't she proven her point, already?

Thankfully, you’d soon return to San Francisco, and the little rendezvous would soon be just a fun story to tell your friends on a night out. You said your goodbyes to the woman (and of course, you fucked again; as if you’d ever waste the opportunity of having a good fuck. The café’s bathroom was a bit too small, but you made it work. You fell apart at her cock just the same, the intense orgasm shuddering you.) and made your way back home, feeling content to be back.

You should’ve known a woman like Minatozaki Sana was not one for leaving things behind. Before you knew it, she was coming to your company personally (to discuss critical matters, she explained, as if you were stupid enough to fall for that), and you found yourself under her once again. You quickly learned the two of you were just about the same: proud, cocky, impatient and spoiled women, both used to getting things your way without much effort. Which was what got her so into you, you think. The chase, the game. Sana enjoyed chasing you, but —and she hated to admit that— she also loved how, you always provoked her back.

You were both fire, fighting just as much as you fucked. Sana was too possessive for her own good, making sure no one even paid you such thing as a light stare. She spared no efforts into humiliating and firing anyone who dared to do so, anyway: You were hers. Her jewel, most prized possession. And she’d make sure every single person knew it. That you were hers only to toy with, love and ruin.

All to herself.

On the other hand, you were just as possessive, engorging her with your bratty and insufferable persona. You just had to have things your way, and you made sure Sana gave you just that. Battling lashes, sweet looks, lusty promises… You’d give her anything to have her completely under your mercy. Every so often, it worked: she’d quickly oblige and do whatever it was that you wished her to. Other days, however, she’d shut you down, making you gag on her cock until the only thing on your mind were a series of phrases that made sure you were reminded of who owned you and who fucked you best.

You were always quick to make Sana the crazy one in your fights with your manipulative persona, rambling to your friends about how possessive she was, as if you weren’t just as crazy. After all, being snobby, full of yourself, impatient and spoiled were all traits you never denied having. You were a menace, a nightmare hidden by long, soft curls and an angelic face. You knew what you wanted, and you’d always do anything to have it. At least Sana made her personality clear, no gaslighting involved. You, on the other hand, thrived on it. On making her look like the crazy one (not that she wasn’t; you just weren’t the angel you so painted to be, either).

She offered you a crazy salary to have you working for her firm, which you repeatedly denied — even if the zeros kept adding. Again, you weren’t fond of Seoul, and the thought of leaving everything behind: your friends, your sisters, California… she’d have to do better than simply coming to your firm and fucking you crazy good until she had to go back to her normal routine, if she wanted you to follow her to a whole other continent.

To which, of course, she did. Sana would spend as much as needed to have the things she wanted, and currently, she wanted you.

After months of romantic getaways, taking you to balls and ceremonies so you’d get to know her employees and investors, massive bouquets handed by your doorsteps daily, talking to your friends and family (the hardest part out of all of it, Sana would always say) so they’d convince you to try out the new opportunity, secretly begging you to join her in Korea every time you were just about to reach your high whenever you fucked… You’ve made her work for it, surely.

Eventually, she won: within a year or so, you had a fancy ring on your left hand— since you’d told her it was either marriage or nothing, and Sana was quick to comply. — and you found yourself moving all the way to Seoul, to join your fiancée and her company.

You finally got to meet her friends and shareholders: they were wary of you, naturally, but were still pretty polite and welcoming. Not that it bothered you; you had better things to worry about than seeking Sana’s childhood girlfriends’ approval. If they didn’t like you, they’d have to talk to Sana about it, and nothing would be done, since the woman was crazy about you. In the end, it didn’t matter.

You did get close to Nayeon and Momo as time went by, though. You worked in the same section, and would often gossip in fancy cafés after work. They were the only ones you genuinely liked in this cold city, the only ones interesting enough for you to listen to. It pleased Sana, to see you putting an effort into being close to her friends, which you enjoyed, too, since you loved to please your fiancée.

Things were working out just fine: you were still adjusting, but slowly learning to enjoy your current life and the newly made changes.

It was only natural that you fell into a routine. A few months into the marriage, you and Sana were both too stubborn to sit and talk things out, only presenting each other with confrontations and cold shoulders instead of communicating.

You were constantly mad at her for spending so much time at the company, flirting with her coworkers and being such a whore when she was yours already. Everything irritated you: from the whole floors she’d let you redesign, the outdated furniture and, mostly, all the bastards that worked there and had you competing for her attention, just as you knew she liked it. She was such a bitch, thriving with the feeling of being wanted by many and loving the attention.

Not even having Sana fire her old secretary (that fucking whore who was always presenting herself to your wife) had made that uneasy feeling leave your guts. No matter how hard you worked, how many new places you saw, the itch in your skin wouldn’t go away, never allowing you to truly rest and relax.

So you distracted yourself with other things, much to Sana’s dismay.

In response to getting on your nerves daily, she’d shower you with gifts and affection until you were satisfied enough for your fake pout to go away. You’d fuck, sleep, and the cycle would restart on the next morning.

Oddly enough, you found it comforting. You knew Sana would indulge your wishes, regardless of what other people though about it, and your dynamics provided you with the stability you so desperately—and unknowingly, craved, even if it wasn’t exactly healthy.

“I want a child.” You told her one day, sitting idly in her lap as you rearranged the pens on her desk. They were always messed up, stacked in the wrong color order and in the wrong place; too close to Sana’s computer, just waiting for her clumsy hands to drop them.

Sana’s brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

“I want a baby.” You repeated, scoffing. Sweetly enough, your hands traveled through her neck and hair, trailing wet kisses against her jaw. “Your stupid accountant is even in a license after his wife popped out one. I want it, too. Give it to me.”

Sana laughed at your comment, lifting your chin so you’d look at her properly. She knew it wasn’t good to indulge such behavior, specially since you could be even worse when you wanted to, but she couldn’t deny it: she loved it. Sana could feel her cock getting harder by your pettiness; the way you were always immediately extra sweet to her after being mean to everyone else. All hers, indeed.

“Can’t you wait a little more, love?” She asked you, twirling a strand of hair out of your face. You rolled your eyes even harder, pushing her shoulders to get off her lap. If she wasn’t going to do what you wanted her to, then there was no reason for you to waste your time being in her office at all. Her strong hands flew to your defined waist, though, keeping you in place. “It’ll be summer in just a few months, and you know how crazy things get around here with promotions and overnight meetings, to decide the groups’ comeback strategies.” Sana’s hands squeezed your thighs, making you whine. “Come on, princess. Don’t be mad, ok? I just want to dote on you the best I can. I can fill you up now, though. You’d like that? Want me to breed you full?”

You nodded, eager to have her cum. Soon enough, she had you completely stretched for her; your long, acrylic nails scratching her back without care as she pounded on you so hard her desk ornaments all fell to the ground, the sound of her thrusts echoing loudly through the room. You didn’t care— if anything, you wanted all of her employees and coworkers to know she belonged to you just as much as you belonged to her, too. You hummed with satisfaction as you felt her cum welcome your insides, your pleading forgotten for now.

You’d handle it later. It wasn’t like she ever said no to you anyway.

Your wishes died soon enough.

As summer came, Sana’s workload got her so immersed in her job you barely saw her anymore; she left home early and arrived late, always murmuring she was too tired to even talk to you about anything. You knew she wasn’t that busy— you still worked at the same company, no matter how shorter your work hours were compared to hers. She made little to no effort to go to your daily lunch dates, and didn’t even seem fazed by your cold shoulder.

“You should just talk this through.” Nayeon told you, fixing the papers in her desk as she listened to your rambling. “Tell her what’s bothering you, Y/n. I know she’s playing into your game, but Sana’s not an oracle either; you have to tell her how you’re feeling if you want it to work out.”

You sighed, knowing your friend was right, but didn’t follow her advice either way— too proud to talk to your wife. Her indifference stung, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. She refused to indulge in your usual little fights and arguments, too busy with work to focus on your relationship.

You still fucked like rabbits, even though you refused to moan her name— knowing how she specially liked how vocal you were, and she insisted on marking you a little too harshly. It was a tiring cycle, one of not speaking to each other at all, not even about work related stuff, but none of you seemed willing enough to solve it out.

You noticed her coming home even later than usual, disheveled hair and smelling like different perfumes each time. You weren’t stupid: the almost unnoticeable lipstick stains in her shirts were clear evidence of her heavy “work” load. Still, you refused to simply ask for a divorce and move on with your life. You loved Sana, and you’d stay with her, whether it was good for both or not.

She belonged to you, you’d soon remind her of it. Even if it were to make her life a living hell.

You didn’t keep your promise. Eventually, your energy drained out, and you were no longer interested in playing the coy game. Nevertheless, you were far from your friends and family, living in a cold, harsh city you openly hated. Without Sana’s warmth, you felt fragile and alone, not quite knowing what to do in your massive—yet empty apartment when you left work each night.

That’s how Momo found you: alone in your living room, a cheap wine in hands and smudged makeup. Momo had never seen you like this, not since you’ve become somewhat friends, sharing the same workplace. She was so used to your confident, manipulative persona she forgot you had feelings as well.

It was on that moment she realized it was all a façade, carefully made to protect your sensitiveness.

You threw yourself in her arms, sobbing on her shoulders for hours before your cries were finally resolved to tiny whimpers and your heartbeat was steady again. Your head hurt badly, and you felt like your body was going to explode, but Momo was patient enough to wait for you to calm down a bit more before talking to you.

As she ruffled your hair to soothe your deep nerves, you took a deep breath before telling her everything: how your relationship was going downhill, how much you hated Seoul and missed California, how lost you felt, and specially, how you couldn’t let Sana go, no matter how much you wanted to. You hadn’t realized how much you simply needed for someone to see completely through you until you felt Momo’s comforting embrace, her soft questions and hums as you just kept on talking and talking.

She was a good listener, letting you talk your heart out before saying how strong-willed you were and how she was pretty much inspired by your powerful aura. Momo told you to take your time with everything— including Sana, and take little steps. Everything was going to turn out just fine, she assured. You nodded at her small speech, thankful to have her by your side, and truly not knowing what you would’ve done if she hadn’t come to your apartment that night.

Which, now that you thought about it further, was pretty odd. Odd of her, to visit your apartment on a late Friday night, knowing you were all alone.

She blushed violently when you pointed that out, stuttering to explain she had noticed the change on your behavior and wanted to make sure everything was alright.

However, you weren’t thinking straight anymore. Pulling her by her necktie, you kissed Momo hard and urgently. She tried to resist it, at first, grabbing you by the shoulders and reminding you this was wrong: you were her best friend’s wife, for God’s sake. You only sighed, though— too lost in pleasure, with your head light and hazed.

You murmured she was right, because she was: this was so dirty, so wrong, but it wasn’t like Sana was not doing the same thing out there, either. You weren’t stupid, and that’s what you reminded Momo, who tried to keep you still in her lap as you pressed your butt into her already hardened cock.

It was the first time you openly acknowledged your wife’s escapades, and you knew Momo was aware of them since the beginning— and still hadn’t told you. You understood, of course: before being your friend, she was Sana’s childhood soulmate and shareholder. She would always be first in Momo’s priorities.

But it gave the raven-haired woman no right to say anything about being in the wrong.

And you were so needy and fucking horny, you couldn’t even think straight. If Momo didn’t fuck you at that very moment, you’d surely get out and find your fun elsewhere.

Her eyes darkened as you told her just that, hands interlocking your wrists above your head as she pinned you down on your lavish sofa. Momo allowed you to slip your tongue in her mouth, moaning when you kept pressing yourself on her, giggling as you taunted her. She gave in, fucking you messily and with a whole amount of guilt as she made your cunt her own personal cumdump.

You felt so good, though. Just as she dreamed of ever since she’s had her eyes on you, on that very first meeting Sana had claimed you as hers. It had been impossible not to.

No matter how much Momo loved and respected her best friend and your relationship, it never kept her from jerking off at the thought of fucking you in every position possible. Not when you always went to work in those shirts that evidenced your perfect breasts, or when you wore shorter, revealing skirts simply because you could, pulling it off flawlessly and with much elegance.

It was so wrong, but she jerked off hard to her dirty thoughts every time.

At this point, Momo’s body moved on its own, desperate to breed and take care of you. She was blinded by pleasure, both hers and yours— with your loud moans and pleads. She knew there would be consequences, but she wouldn’t take it back. Your pussy felt too good, hot and welcoming for her to worry about that.

It could wait. All of it.

At least you though so, rolling your eyes as you reached your high for the first time of the night.

It was clear something had changed after that. If you weren’t speaking to Sana before (as you often did, whenever you played your twisted little games), you were actively avoiding her, now; Your eyes would never meet hers, and you’d mumble an excuse to leave the room as soon as she entered any place. You and Momo hadn’t talked about it, either. Neither of you wanting to acknowledge said episode.

What surprised you was your wife’s attentiveness, as she suddenly wanted to clear it all up, calling you to her office after lunch break.

“Something’s wrong.” Her tone was sharp, as she stared right through your soul. You sent her a look just as sharp, eyebrows furrowing in disdain. Long gone was the crying, broken woman of days prior: your impeccable self was as strong as ever.

“Something has been wrong for fucking months, Mrs. Minatozaki.” Sana clenched her jaw at your way of addressing her, your voice dripping venom. However, she knew better than to pick on little things when there was still so much to unravel. So she gulped, trying to stay calm.

“Busy months, indeed.” She answered, with a neutral face.

You rolled your eyes, getting up from your chair. “So I’ve seen.”

“I didn’t give you permission to leave, Y/n.” She said, just as you reached for the door, making you clutch your fingers to keep them from scratching her face nastily.

God, she knew how to get under your skin.

“I don’t need your permission, Sana.” You muttered, gripping hard on the doorknob as you turned around, facing her front. Your bodies were close, making you instinctively try to get some distance, failing as you were already pressed to the door.

“You don’t?” She feigned innocence, her grip tight on your neck like a collar; not yet keeping you from breathing, but her long fingers were sure threatening to do so, running lazily through your neck. “It’s Mrs. Minatozaki to you, dear.”

You left her without an answer, storming out of the room before you had the chance to give in to lust and just fuck your problems out, like always.

It surprised you to see her home so early, a nonexistent occurrence in the last few months. Still, you said nothing as Sana entered the bedroom and took out her coat, placing it in her closet. Your eyes are trained on the TV, even though you were no longer paying attention to the program playing— your body was all tensed up, watching her every move from the corner of your eyes.

“So you do know your way home before midnight.” You teased as she turned the tv off, staring at you in the middle of the room with crossed arms, “And here I was, questioning your intelligence.”

Sana scoffed, sitting beside you. She took a deep breath before starting, eyes locked on the ground.

“Those months have been busy at the company. I know I’ve been neglecting you, us, and I’m sorry.” She turns to look at you, and you surprisingly see sincerity in her eyes. “I’ll do better.”

It wasn’t exactly an apology, but you knew it was the best acknowledgement you could get out of her, currently. So you hummed, tracing her clavicle with your fingers.

“I want a better apology, then.” You demanded, even though you allowed her to scoop you up on her lap, trailing kisses through your neck. Your guilt was eating you alive, but you only gulped in hopes to swallow it away; you wouldn’t say anything unless she did it first. “Apologize for leaving me here all alone, when you promised not to.”

You hated how your voice quivered, betraying you to announce to your wife how hurt you truly were. You’d rather to have never met her— this way, you wouldn’t be so heartbroken. By her betrayal, by her broken promises of never leaving you on your own in this new, terrifying city.

Most importantly, you hated how ardently you loved her.

“I’m so, so sorry, my angel.” Sana muttered, kissing you deep each time. Her hands cupped your breasts and you could only think about how much you craved her touch—starved for it for so long, and how much it burned. “I missed you so much. That fucking company will never keep me too busy for you again, I’ll make sure of that. I’ll just fucking remind them who owns it when they start to get on my ass again.”

Her words were filled with sincerity, you could feel it through the way she held you: hard and urgently. You couldn’t stand it anymore, though. It was suffocating, poisonous. You forced yourself off her lap, pushing your body towards the end of the bed as much as you could without falling.

“You’ve been with others.” It wasn’t a question, and Sana knew it. She didn’t deny it, either. The older woman knew you, and you wouldn’t say something like that if you weren’t sure of it.

“I have.” She nodded. It hurt like hell to have her finally admit it, but again: you were no saint, either.

You closed your eyes, playing with your shirt to avoid her gaze. She was staring at you vividly, now. “I have, too.”

The room went quiet, and Sana could swear all the wall colors were red. To think someone had touched you skin, your thighs… your cunt, her cunt. It made her want to burn the whole city down.

How dare someone fucking touch you, her angel. Her fucking wife.

“Who?” She asked just as quietly, but you knew better than to be relaxed at her passiveness. You knew how Sana’s cold, calculating posture was a hundred times worse than her explosive tantrums.

You are to blame. you wanted to yell at her, shaking her by the shoulders until you lost your energy.

I know. she’d answer. But so are you.

A broken marriage, indeed.

“Momo.” At least you felt like you were a thousand pounds lighter, even though Sana’s stare was strong enough to set the whole Seoul on fire. You waited for her to say something, anything, but the silence remained. “Are we over, then?”

Your tone was frail, filled with uncertainty. Despite it all, the last thing you wanted to do was let go of her. Your eyes were glistening with tears as you felt her arms embracing you again, trying to take deep breaths to keep yourself from crying. If the first tears fell, you knew it wouldn’t be long until you were sobbing hard.

“I was serious on our wedding day, angel.” She said, her tone calm as she caressed you hair, ever so gently. “I’m not letting you go, and this won’t break us apart.” Sana kissed your tears away, murmuring against your neck. “We’ll start again, ok? With no lack of communication, distance or cheating between us. I’ll commit to you, completely, just as you’ll commit to me, too. I won’t fail us anymore.” She looked you in the eyes, lifting your chin up. “What do you think?”

Your hiccups could be heard through all the apartment as you nodded, kissing her with love. Your relationship was doomed and so very broken, but you were determined to fix it up.

And you knew Sana was, too.

“I’d like that, yes.” She smiled as you shared another kiss, with her almost swallowing you whole as she whispered how much she loved you and how hard she missed you.

You fucked until morning, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, you were glad to wake up to your wife by your side. Your heart no longer burned with her absence or with guilt, and you were both determined to fix all of the mess with new beginnings.

Sana would have to talk to Momo about what had happened, though.

“I have something.” Sana looked at you from her desk, confused. You were smiling brightly, which made her relieved, but she still couldn’t figure out what was going on.

Months passed since you had decided to give your marriage another chance, and it was actually more than ok. You were putting an effort into telling her whenever something made you upset— no matter how small and frequent the situations were. You were spoiled and one prone to conflicts, after all. — and Sana cut her work hours significantly after summer ended, with the plans for JYP’s groups’ comebacks being successfully concluded. Her flirting resumed, too, as did your provocations with her coworkers and employees. You were trying, both of you.

And you were finally happy after so many gloomy months.

“Ok…” She asked, turning her computer off as she motioned for you to continue. You placed a small box in front of her, giggling like crazy.

“It’s a gift.” You clarified, with Sana inspecting the box like it was going to explode at any given moment. It was rare for you to gift her something: she was usually the one doting on you constantly, just as both of you loved it.

“For me?” You were getting impatient with her shaking and feeling up the damn box, but let her have the moment.

“For us,” With your brows furrowed, you corrected her, “Although it was something I asked you for long ago.”

Finally, Sana opened your gift, revealing a small pair of shoes and a stick with two red lines marked up. Her mouth hung in a perfect “O” as she stared at your stomach, looking for a bulge that was still too small to notice.

“That’s…” She was still at a loss for words as she got up to hug you, lifting you up form the ground. “Are you happy, my angel? Is it what you want?”

You laughed, suffocated by her kisses. “I’m very happy. I’ve really, really wanted this for a long time, Sana.” You stopped her mouth from brushing your skin again to take a proper look at her face. God, she was so gorgeous. “Are you happy? Because if you don’t want a baby right now that’s ok, we can—“

“I’m in heaven, beautiful.” Sana gave you her brightest smile, glowing as much as you were. Her hands were evolving your waist, and she leaned to mutter against your belly. “I can’t wait to start a family with you. I love you so, so fucking much.”

You hugged her again, happy to have her by your side.

“I love you, Mrs. Minatozaki.” You teased her, laughing freely as she twirled you around her massive office.

“I love you more, angel.”

“Ben, please don’t run—agh!” You yelled at the energetic little boy. Four and a half, almost five years old, now. He pretended not to listen, though, trying to wriggle out of your touch to go back to terrorizing the guests. “Baby, please tell him not to run? He’ll fall like that, and it won’t be pretty. You know it.”

Sana smiled at your whiny voice, pecking your lips as she ruffled the little boy’s hair (earning herself another hard glare. You’d spent so long fixing his raven hair with gel at home.) with affection. “You heard your mom, bud. Save your energy for later, ok? We can play videogames when we get home if you manage to stay awake.” Your son’s eyes sparkled at the promise, making you roll your eyes and Sana giggle. He obviously wouldn’t make it, but the thought of being allowed to do something that was usually strictly forbidden was enough to get him to calm down, steady in his mother’s arms.

It was JYP’s New Years’ event, the big ballroom adorned with white and grey ornaments. Everyone seemed to have attended, this year: the place was already massive, yet it seemed cramped with the amount of people. Workers, idols, partners… everyone was apparently enjoying themselves, with lots of food and a sweet, along with some calming background music to soothe the nerves.

Sana walked around the place, greeting and making small talk with so many people she lost track of time. Being the CEO and biggest shareholder had its perks, surely, but having to waste such time she could use to be with her little family wasn’t one one them. The woman only relaxed when Dahyun scooped to her side, allowing her to sigh in relief.

“Not having fun, unnie?” She teased, nudging her friend.

“I don’t know how you do this so flawlessly, Dahyun-ah.” She complained, eyes darting around the room to look for you. Sana smiled when you tossed her your champagne glass from afar, on the other side of the ballroom chatting with a very excited Nayeon and Momo.

“It’s one of my many qualities.” Dahyun shrugged confidently, making them both laugh.

The woman caught sight of her son once again, now accompanied by a few of her employees’ children as well, as they ran through the waiter’s legs and almost made the poor man fall to the ground. They muttered apologies and extensive bows, but soon returned to run and giggle as the waiter dismissed them.

“He’s so tall already,” Sana complained, scrunching her nose. “I swear he’ll be taller than me before he even turns ten.”

“He will.” Her friend agreed, smiling at the little boy. “If he doesn’t get too tall, though, then he’ll have at least one thing similar to you.” Dahyun teased, smiling. Sana smiled back, too, even though hers didn’t quite reach her eyes. Dahyun didn’t seem to notice. “With his hair dark like this and that sneaky smile, he looks so much like…” she paused, trying to think of someone. “like Momo! Oh Sana, don’t you think? He’s exactly like her, all distracted and clumsy but so caring and loving. One would think they’re the ones related, instead of you or Y/n.”

Sana’s mouth tasted bitter, with her thoughts running inside her head at a hundred miles per hour. Dahyun couldn’t possibly know, but it wasn’t like she was lying, either. If Sana thought about it further, her son looked exactly like Momo, specially at this age. They all grew up together; of course Sana remembered her friend’s appearance and mannerisms.

And they were the copy of her son.

“Yes,” She answered, taking two drinks from the nearest waiter and downing them in one gulp. She tried to look for you in the crowd once again, but you were long gone, lost in the sea of people gathering in the middle of the dance floor. “You’re completely right, Dahyun.”

Momo had some explaining to do. And you did, too.

698 notes · View notes

kalims · 1 year ago

Note

Oh my goddess, orders are open! Ahem, ANYWAYS— I wonder if I could have an Idia with a fem or gn s/o who is introverted and generally closed-faced, being a sweetheart and even shy with him, pretty please?

• Remember to drink water and take care of yourself correctly, kisses <3

– Mel 🌙🩵✨

dress,

premise.

idia forever thought his cause of death would be the permanent termination of his end game account—which in theory, is now proven wrong at the existence of a brand new thing that just might obliterate his heart.

note. thank you mel <3 you too. i, for one will gladly accept kisses from u and idia (he's downbad here LOL)

idia is having a strangely, familiar sensation.

for example—the fact that his heart is palpitating so fast is making him afraid that he'll get the same sense of doom he frequently gets whenever this happens. like when he's the one that the professor chooses to answer a question up front. just his luck cause it absolutely sucks in real life just as much as his chances of winning that rare character.

but no, there isn't an impending sense of doom that sends him to the edge. no cold sweat forming on the skin of his neck, nor does it protrude from his clammy hands. it's weird, he feels warm rather than the cold it usually accompanies.

he needs to visit a doctor.

he gulps thickly. sending a lightning fast glance at your direction then averting it even faster. oh my god, your hand just brushed against his.. was it intentional? no, no—it mustn't be. you wouldn't waste your time doing that.

but you might even look more tenser than he is.

despite the attempt at flushing down the tightness in his throat, his words still break off into a croaky stammer that just sends his face into a grimace because, did he sound like that? "I'm.. I'm really sorry, you didn't have to do this," he says, looking away with those eyes that just screams a mixture of 'I hate it all.' and 'I'm so scared.'

his eyes in comparison to yours, dull significantly in terms of greatness. cause as rare as it is for your eyes to meet, he'll always marvel at the lush hue your eyes are colored with—and god, your lashes. so pretty, so, so pretty.

he sulks. he doesn't deserve this.

"it's alright," you answer in response, voice quiet but it's the only thing he ever hears despite the myriad of people quite nearly squishing the both of you. the crowd is large, and noisy. so he isn't sure why he's suddenly the greatest listener when you speak. "I'm glad you thought of... inviting me along, I know you're quite passionate about it."

passionate is not a strong enough word, it could be an incorrect word to use even. he supposes it's just a nice feeling to excel—be good at something.

but with how hot his heart is probably burning, maybe passionate really is the right word.

for you that is.

most likely idia's ideal type of player two <3 someone he can keep up with, not too fast and certainly not too slow. but either way, he’s probably having a heart attack at whatever you do. literally just sleeping? his heart… playing with him? please match avatars at once or he will combust. (and yes, he is hinting even though you already match everywhere else. had a house in a game, got married in a game.)

don’t even pull out the fact he buys you the currency to match and you feel bad cause he thinks it’s too cute. you need to stop or else he will buy you more.

speaking of more in game terms, he surprisingly garners a lot of attention online maybe because he’s endgame in every single account he’s made and many people like money so… there are many attempts at ‘rizzing’ him up but in the end he’s provoking them to screenshot it and report them as online daters.

^ says THE online dater.

still reports people if they flirt with you, but compared to his. not only is it a file for online dating he somehow dug up the dirt, the monstrous things they did like… 3 years ago and now they’re gonna get suspended. It’s concerning since he was talking with you animatedly during it and he somehow also exposed them all in 10 minutes.

did the see you again trend in secrecy cause he would rather leap down a hole to hell than let people see it. In any case… if it isn’t obvious he’s the lala, you the okok.

deluded himself, is convinced that he’s actually the nonchalant, ‘cool’ one but all he is, is a literal puddle. is still solid when standing but will be putty in your hands in SECONDS.

idia is secretly really proud of himself whilst being like: how did i even pull them. cause when he looks at your face when you’re talking to other people. he’s actually kind of scared cause it’s a really wondrous thing you never once looked at him like that… (please save his mind too. he’s trying to convince himself that you must be like this, soft person he knows to other people too and not just him because that’s just crazy right haha.. hahahaha…)

the type to tell you to stand back during raids, challenges, boss fights, etc… that all you need to do is be there, and that he’ll solo it for you and you can claim your rewards even though he gave you the rarest, strongest equipment in respective games which won’t be much use at this point cause he insists he do it for you, and sulks all day if you don’t let him.

stay at home couple >>>

will order every single thing you crave during those times he’s too shy to consider date nights, and you too so it’s like an unspoken thing. he honestly plays better when you’re inside his room, even if it’s just laying on his messy bed scrolling on your phone or munching on something.

it’s just complete, comfortable silence.

except for the time one of you accidentally makes an indirect flirty comment and now the room could be considered a sauna from the literal steam only two people emitted.

really, really, really, REALLY, likes it when your head is on his shoulder.

“─ean.. no one really asked for it, the nerf was completely unnecessary and─” the words poured out of his mouth, something uncontrollable that he couldn’t stop. there is something about you that just kicks down the layer of anxiety on him. comfortable might be the right word, even if you don’t talk that much (which is surprising cause he ends up being the talkative one and you always assure him that you like to listen.) somehow the thought: am i too annoying? doesn’t really pop up like usual.

in fact, he’s excited to ramble all about it. excited to hear your thoughtful hums, excited to see your attentive eyes on him since the first word he’s said─but it isn’t. because he looks up and you’re blinking haphazardly, thrice in a second and before he panics to shut his mouth he feels the soft slump of your head against the curve of his shoulder.

oh my god, oh my god, oh my g─

if idia had half of his mind he would scream instinctively at the weight he isn’t really accustomed to feel. actually, even if he did have his entire brain connected, and his thoughts coherent he still would. but he bites the inside of his cheek cause despite the chaos that just erupted in his mind which is somehow simultaneously blank, and swirling.

and he remembers midst his confusion that you are,

asleep.

you’re asleep on his shoulder

you’re asleep.

asleep on his shoulder.

on. his. shoulder.

he resorts to the screech in his head.

his shoulder─is so terribly stiff right now to the point where he thinks that sleeping on a hard, wooden surface would be surely more comfortable rather than where your head lays. he makes an effort to relax his muscles, tell himself that it’s only you and that there’s nothing wrong but there is something wrong because it’s you! idia dares to sneak a peek at you and your closed lids only confirm your unconscious state.

and careful with each nudge his movement makes sends to your head. idia can’t resist the hands that creep up his face and bury it, to hope all the embarrassment and whatever he’s feeling right now absorbs it right out of his face because god. he knows he looks like he just ate 10 bowls of lilia’s cooking.

he would scream, he really would. a second thought but you’re on his shoulder!

you, who rarely touches him too much.

on him.

him, who gets too flustered to be touched by you.

so he feels pretty obligated to just suck it up cause he’s enjoying the moment even if you aren’t conscious right now and he sure as hell is going to, for as long as he can.

idia releases a deep sigh, long and wistful because he’s gonna die before you even wake up.

#ㅤ◜◡◝ . . signed !#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst fluff #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader #x gn reader

283 notes · View notes