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pocketjoong · 1 year ago

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❥𓂃𓏧EARLY MORNINGS

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS): You wake up to find Hongjoong in your studio. What started with you helping Hongjoong, turns into an unexpected confession from the idol himself.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING) idol!Hongjoong x afab!producer!Reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (GENRE AND AU/TROPE): friends/co-workers to lovers. idiots in love.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS) smut. pwp. use of pet names (princess, love, etc). choking. oral (f!recieveing). orgasm denial. soft joongie. joongie is whipped. lmk if I am missing something. MDNI.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT) 3.3k

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (NOTES) Happy Hongjoong Day everyone!! I wanted to write something sappy, but I'll just keep it to myself, mostly bc I really don't have the words to express my admiration and love for this precious little human. So, if you enjoy this, please do consider reblogging or leaving feedback! shoutout to @joong-of-gold for beta reading this! TYSM

You awaken to the distant, muffled rumble of thunder, a gentle intrusion on the stillness of your soundproof studio. The first glimmer of awareness reveals the early morning hour, for light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow throughout the room, but the sun is nowhere to be seen. You can also tell that it rained a few minutes back because you can see the wet streaks on the window and the fog that lingers outside.

In the haze between wakefulness and sleep, you realise that you are covered with a jacket that is definitely not yours. Inhaling deeply, you catch the scent of familiar cologne that clings to the soft material. Your gaze shifts, and sure enough, you spot him seated on your chair, bathed in the soft, ethereal glow of the computer screens. Hongjoong looks beautiful in the soft light of your studio, akin to an angel, as he works on something you’re unable to discern from the couch. You blink away the remnants of sleep, confused as to why Hongjoong is using your studio when he has his own a couple of doors away.

“Hongjoong?” Your voice is a mere whisper in the silence of the studio as you sit up, absentmindedly watching the way his jacket falls and pools onto your lap.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re awake?” Hongjoong leans back into the chair, his fingers running through his recently dyed hair, which appears somewhat tousled as if he'd been frustratedly tugging at the strands. His hair is a dirty blonde and way shorter than it was when you saw him yesterday morning, a few inches away from being a buzz cut, but it suits him well. But then, you suppose he looks good in all hairstyles. After all, you’re yet to see him in one he’s unable to pull off.

Your curiosity is piqued, and you tilt your head as you regard Hongjoong, noting the fatigue etched across his features. A quick glance at the wall clock tells you that it’s just past five in the morning, prompting you to wonder how long he has been in the building. Given that the last time you checked, the time was before 4 a.m., it dawns on you that he must have entered your studio sometime within the past hour. The realisation that he didn't return to the dorms last night tugs at your heart, and a sigh escapes at the thought as worry for him grips your heart.

“Sorry for barging in unannounced,” Hongjoong begins, his voice carrying slight remorse. “I was working on something, but then I got stuck. I thought being here would provide some inspiration... But..." He trails off, shoulders lifting in a half-hearted shrug. As he begins to rise up from your chair, you quickly shake your head to signal him to remain seated.

"Just," you reply with a sigh, pushing yourself off the couch and stretching, wincing at the satisfying crack of your joints. "Lemme freshen up and get some caffeine into my system. Would you like some?"

Hongjoong politely declines with a shake of his head, already returning his attention to the screens. “It’s fine. I had a cup about twenty minutes ago.”

“Mmhkay,” you mumble as you exit the studio to wash up. Upon your return, you feel notably more alert, though you're confident that a cup of strong coffee will definitely help you more. You search the closet for the coffee grounds, tiptoeing to reach the packet.

“You know, you look…” Hongjoong’s voice trails off, his gaze sweeping over your figure as though he's searching for a gentler way to phrase his thoughts. You've barely managed an hour of sleep in the past 48 hours, and you’re sure exhaustion has taken its toll.

“Like a mess?” You interject with a wry chuckle, playfully finishing his sentence while switching on the coffee machine.

“Nah, you're too pretty for that,” he smirks, causing you to roll your eyes in response, even though his words send a delightful pang through your heart. “But you look like you haven’t been getting much sleep, which is surprising since you were in dreamland when I arrived.”

“That's because I haven’t,” you admit, watching the coffee streaming into the cup you've placed beneath the machine. You hum happily when the smell of coffee permeates the room, making you relax further. “If you don't count the one-hour nap I managed after finishing that video call.”

"Video call?" Hongjoong echoes, his voice tinged with curiosity.

“Yeah, there's this American band that's eager to collaborate on a track with me, so we were hashing out the details until the wee hours, around four a.m.,” you explain, picking up the cup of coffee and turning to look at Hongjoong, who now appears to be deeply engrossed in the contents on the computer screen. “You sure you don't want some coffee, Joong-ah?”

"Mhmm, I’m good," he responds, brows furrowed as his attention is momentarily diverted by your offer.

You nod, even though he can’t see it and take a sip from the cup, savouring the rejuvenating warmth. It breathes life back into your tired form, revitalising you in a matter of moments. Crossing the studio, you lean against the wall, observing as Hongjoong plays with the sounds.

You both share a quiet moment, with Hongjoong immersed in his work and you taking intermittent sips of your coffee. In the silence of the studio, your thoughts drift back to the day Eden introduced the two of you. Despite being Hongjoong's age, you had already earned a degree in music production and established a modest reputation in both the Korean and Western music scenes. Eden had recognised your talent and had been quick to scout you, asking if you'd like to work for KQ. It was an appealing proposition, one that offered you the flexibility to pursue personal projects without forfeiting your earnings from outside ventures. So you had agreed without any hesitation.

Not long after, the older man introduced you to Hongjoong. You had already heard of him, the sole trainee at KQ for several months, eager to delve into the realm of music production. So, Eden entrusted you with the task of guiding Hongjoong’s musical journey since you had a professional degree. Although you were initially hesitant, circumstances conspired, and over time, a strong friendship blossomed between the two of you.

“So,” you begin, finally setting down your half-empty cup of coffee on the cabinet on noticing Hongjoong’s visible frustration. “What's got you all worked up?”

“I want to remix a track for the new album,” he replies, gesturing toward the computer screen in a state of vexation. “I had this vision when Eden hyung told me about it, but nothing seems to click.”

“Can I see what you’ve done so far?” You inquire, moving closer to lean over his shoulder, regarding the screen with pursed lips. You hold out your hand, requesting for the headphones. When Hongjoong doesn't immediately pass them to you, you turn to face him, only to find him peering at you through half-lidded eyes, his expression inscrutable. In a sudden, surprising move, he pulls you onto his lap, eliciting an involuntary squeak from you and a hearty laugh from the mischievous idol.

“Sorry, love,” he says, though there is a distinct lack of remorse in his tone. “It'll be easier for both of us this way.”

He removes the headphones from around his neck and allows you to wear them before pressing play. As the music fills your ears, you’re acutely aware of Hongjoong’s arms encircling your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder. Despite the delightful distraction, you focus your attention on the remixes he's crafted thus far. It becomes evident why he's been wrestling with frustration; each track seems to lack the spark that’s needed for them to stand out.

“Did you have any other ideas?” you ask, swallowing hard as he nonchalantly shrugs while still entwined with you. His movement causes his chest to press against your back, and you can’t help but be flustered. You knew that he had been working out, but actually feeling his defined muscles beneath his shirt is a different sensation.

“Not really,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear as he responds.

“Hmm,” you hum, doing a run-through of ATEEZ’s songs and attempting to conceive something more fitting while nestled against the group's leader. The endeavour turns out to be a more difficult enterprise than you initially anticipated. But you won’t complain; after all, he isn’t one to indulge in casual skinship, so you attribute it to sheer exhaustion and his mounting irritation. “I don't know if you've considered this... but there might be something that could work. Remember the beats I shared with you last week?”

“Do you mean this one?” he responds by humming a fragment of the track you had shared with him. With his chin still resting on your shoulder, his lips linger perilously close to your ear. You muster every ounce of restraint not to shiver pleasantly at his honey voice. “I had thought about it initially, but I didn’t want to use it without asking you.”

“Allow me to give it a try. I’m not entirely convinced either,” you assert, clearing your throat as you carefully get off Hongjoong’s lap. Retrieving your coffee mug, you lift it to your lips for a sip to regain your composure. Yet, in the very next moment, Hongjoong deftly snatches the mug from your grasp and takes a sip himself, letting out a light chuckle as your eyes widen in astonishment. You could swear you catch a whisper of “so cute” slipping from his lips under his breath, but you can’t be entirely certain, as he surely wouldn’t utter such words about you. Or would he?

Opting to dive into work, you retrieve the laptop and settle onto the couch, immersing yourself in the process. Lost in the task at hand, you’re completely unaware of Hongjoong’s intense gaze on you. It is only after you have a basic idea ready that you glance up and freeze. Shifting awkwardly in your seat for a brief moment, you bite your lips before patting the vacant space beside you on the couch. Silently, you press play as he takes his place by your side, watching him curiously as he focuses on the music filling the room.

“Wow,” Hongjoong breathes when he's done listening to the raw remix you’ve created. It's nothing extraordinary, merely an attempt to know if you’re going in the right direction, but the way his eyes sparkle as he looks at you tells you that you’ve struck gold. Before you know it, his lips are lightly grazing your cheek in a tender kiss, his proximity allowing his nose to gently brush against your skin.

It should alarm you, how quickly you’re melting into his touch, so easily giving into him. This feels inappropriate; you're coworkers first, friends second, and you're uncertain about the ethical implications, considering you both work for the same company. But as he nuzzles into your cheek, all rational thoughts fly out of the window.

“Damn it, Y/N,” you shiver at the rawness in his voice. “You're so cruel. How am I supposed to contain my feelings for you when every time I convince myself I'm content with just being your friend, you do something like this, and I'm head over heels for you all over again?”

“Hongjoong,” Your voice is breathy, and the way you say his name with a gasp almost sounds like a prayer.

He swears, drawing you closer and gazing into your eyes with an intense longing that leaves you wordless, “Don't say my name like that if you don’t want me to kiss you senseless.”

“Who's stopping you?” You whisper, fisting the front of his shirt in your hands, desperately searching for something to ground yourself.

Eagerly, he closes the distance, lips meeting yours with an ardour that takes you by surprise. He nips at your bottom lip, and you feel your resolve crumble. You allow him to dip his tongue into your mouth. As he pulls you onto his lap, you straddle him, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, drawing him closer. Abruptly, Hongjoong breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathes, closing his eyes when you shake your head. “If I don’t stop now, I won’t be able to hold back.”

“Joong,” you murmur, cradling his face between your hands, your lips finding his jaw. “Please.”

“Are you sure?” He whispers, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “I’d planned on asking you out on a date first, to be honest.”

You giggle at both the unexpected confession and his endearing hesitance, causing him to pout in response. You understand where he’s coming from; he’s usually steadfast, not easily swayed by desire or impulse, but it appears that his usual unwavering patience is slowly unravelling.

“We can do that later, I’m not going anywhere,” you say, a soft smile playing on your lips. “Although, if you're not comfortable going further, we can stop.”

Hongjoong shakes his head, his lips finding yours once more in a slow, sensual kiss. “I want you,” he mumbles between each lingering kiss. “I always have.”

His words elicit a whimper from you, and you grind your hips against him, causing the denim of his jeans to rub deliciously against your aching clit. Gasping at the contact, you meet his gaze, finding his lips swollen and rosy from your kiss, his pupils dilated with desire. The next moment, he pulls away from you and eagerly tugs at the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head. You giggle at his eagerness, “Greedy, are we?”

Hongjoong smirks and leans down to press his lips against the top of your chest, murmuring, “Only for you, my love.”

A quiet moan escapes your lips as your hands find their way into his dishevelled, dirty blonde locks, tugging just hard enough to coax a groan from him. Hongjoong retaliates by sinking his teeth into your neck, biting down gently before withdrawing. When you practically melt into him, he smirks teasingly, “You like that, princess? Want more?”

You nod, gasping as one of his hands darts to your back, skillfully snapping open your bra. His other hand slips to your throat, exerting gentle pressure, almost experimentally, just enough to encourage a deeper breath.

“Mmm. Not like that, doll. Use your words,” Hongjoong pulls away fully, allowing you to see the smouldering desire in his eyes, a sight that sends your head spinning. It takes you a moment to find your voice, long enough for him to caress your cheek with one finger, prompting you to close your eyes. “Don’t leave me hanging, Y/N.”

Your eyelids flutter open, and you gaze at him with a sultry intensity. “I want you to touch me.”

A sly grin curves his lips as he leans in, nipping your lower lip provocatively. “See, now, that wasn’t too difficult, was it, princess?”

You let out a whine as his thumbs rub over your breasts, teasingly tracing patterns. He lowers his head to suck on the skin around your nipple, his lips leaving faint marks. Hongjoong’s mouth is warm and wet, and every time his tongue brushes over your sensitive flesh, your body arches up against his in yearning. When his teeth graze over the tender area, you can’t help but grind against his pulsing erection, desperately needing friction against your clit. “Joong, please.”

“I’ll make you cum, princess. I promise,” he says, offering an innocent smile that contradicts the desire blazing in his eyes.

You're on the verge of delivering a clever retort, but any semblance of wit vanishes when his fingers push your panties aside and plunge into your heat. Your mouth falls agape as his skilled fingertips find the sweet spot deep inside of you, making your toes curl. A primal need stirs within you, and you roll your hips to meet his fingers, and it’s not much later that your legs begin to tremble. You’re close, so close, but just as you're on the cusp of ecstasy, Hongjoong yanks his fingers back, causing you to let out a desperate sob.

He hushes you softly with a soft kiss, his lips a tender apology, “Just a bit more, princess. Can you hold on for a bit longer for me?”

As Hongjoong gently eases you down on the sofa, you notice that he’s still dressed. You pout, tugging at the edge of his shirt, “Joong… off, please?”

“Patience, my dear. I promised I’ll make you cum, didn’t I?” He moves off the couch, pulling you closer to him to spread your folds.

“Fuck—” You arch off the couch, a sharp gasp escaping your lips the second his lips close around your throbbing clit. One of his hands keeps your legs pressed to the side, not allowing you to close them. For what feels like an eternity, he keeps you pinned, fucking you with his tongue and fingers but never allowing the release you so desperately seek. You’re a sobbing, sensitive mess by the time he pulls away for what seems like the hundredth time and sweetly wipes away your tears. It’s not until you hear the crinkling of a condom wrapper that you realise Hongjoong is kneeling on the couch, already undressed and ready.

“You did so well, princess,” he smiles warmly, guiding your legs to wrap around his hips. “I think you deserve a reward, don’t you?”

You nod eagerly, your voice almost desperate as you implore him, “Please… Joong, yes.”

He takes his time as he eases into your folds, knowing that you’re sensitive and you’re grateful for his consideration. Once he’s fully inside of you, he withdraws slowly, repeating the motion with a gentleness that leaves you breathless. Your nails dig into his shoulders, pulling him to you as you yearn to be as close to him as possible.

“Y/N, my love.” Hongjoong coaxes your eyes open gently, his eyes filled with concern. “Loosen up, please. I won’t be able to move otherwise.”

Taking a shaky breath, you relax, prompting him to smile. “That’s my good girl,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

He slowly works up a rhythm, and it doesn’t take long for you to feel your high approaching. Sensing that you’re close, his warm fingers close around your throat to apply just the right amount of pressure. You clench around him in response, making him moan, deep and loud, as his eyes roll back.

“That’s it, princess,” he whispers, his hands trailing down to rub at your clit while he thrusts in and out slowly. His eyes draw shut as he revels in the sounds of your moans, your words unclear as you gasp out his name. “Will you cum for me, Y/N? Hm?”

You finally snap, your body feeling like fire as you succumb to pleasure. Hongjoong grabs you to keep you still. “You feel incredible, princess.,” he gasps, voice laced with desire. “You’re so good for me.”

All the sensations are too much for him, and he curses, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he chases his own release. The room fills with the sounds of both of your moans before Hongjoong collapses on top of you, showering affectionate kisses on your face and neck.

For a brief moment, neither of you utters a word, still caught in the hazy aftermath. Your legs feel like jelly, and you’re still a bit woozy, so you simply watch as Hongjoong eases back. He ties off the condom and drops it into the trash can near the door, dressing quickly. Then, he returns to you with damp tissues that he borrowed from your cupboard. “Are you okay, love? Feeling sore?” He inquires, concern evident in his gentle voice.

“A little, but it was absolutely worth it. I knew you had it in you,” you tease, playfully winking at him, and both of you share a tired yet content chuckle.

“Good,” he responds with a warm smile, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “Do you need anything?”

“Cuddles?” You pout, gazing up at Hongjoong.

“Anything my princess wants, she gets.”

#cromernet #k-labels #wonderlandnet #kvanity #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic #ateez scenarios #ateez smut #ateez fluff #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong smut

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tyttamarzh · 11 months ago

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Missasinfonia, songs and QSMP…

Hello!! Well, since we all continue to miss Missa, I want to share a little thought.

I don't know if it has already been talked about here, but in the Hispanic fandom of Missa we have his songs very present and some people have not been able to avoid talking about how some of them adapt perfectly to the QSMP.

I want to talk about two in particular whose lyrics I think are perfect for describing Missa's relationship with his family.

The first one is called "Privilegios" (privileges) and I think it describe what Missa is currently going through with Philza. Well, it talks about the anxiety of feeling insufficient for the other and trying to improve but feeling afraid of moving forward (the young Missa from 2014 wrote very deep lyrics). I remember that in a stream he told us about how several of his songs came about and said that he wrote "Privilegios" thinking about us, the people who follow him, because he didn't feel enough for us and is why he always try to do things better. Either way, I think he's perfect for describe his situation with Phil.

The song:

youtube

Lyrics

Sometimes I forget my sorrows and things I should do Because ideas slip away, they do not allow us to see Well creating something new means forgetting I would like to be like before and go back to the past

I know how to write the word mature very well But my thoughts don't let me act I don't want to forget, I don't ask for your mercy Because honestly I can fix it.

Chorus I don't know what to do if you're not okay (you're okay!) I don't know whether to lie to me or throw myself at your feet I wonder if I can deserve you Because I didn't earn the privilege.

How can I destroy damn anxiety? If outside my mind is my reality It is not so easy to wish others ill. just so I can free myself

The second song I want to talk about is called "Tarde para el plan B" (Late for Plan B) and I think it could be a message from Missa to Chayanne, some of the things he mentions remind me of what Missa told him in that day of fishing before travel to Japan. He talks about how it's okay to fail and that he shouldn't be overwhelmed by his mistakes, and encourages him to keep going and get better. There is also a phrase that I like to think is very much theirs, since it infers that even if they are not together, he will always see him. Now every time I hear that song I think of them and I can't help it u.u (It's a song created 10 years ago, but I think it's fits perfectly).

The song:

youtube

Lyrics

Have you ever wondered… what could happen if after the years, you could come back to the past? Would you have the chance to see what is wrong the bad memories you would be able to erase.

Enjoy moments you didn't see coming feel from the beginning what you should feel but remorse can cut you and repenting would be the final act

Look for alternatives, see how to improve May you know how to handle your situations You don't always get a second chance. you must take advantage of what time gives you

If they give you their hand, don't take our foot don't ask for the moon when it's barely dawning You don't run when you want to calm down do something your soul can bear

[PRE CHORUS] And it's not that it's bad, it could be worse. What doesn't kill you makes you better.

And listen to me, here I will be, watching your actions wherever you are.

sometimes the reasons chase me but they don't want to catch me Sometimes actions are what will count, but you won't count. I prove that what I say is true It's your problem if you don't want to change but honestly sometimes everyone can fail

In the hope that everything is fine There are ideas within your being that grow and create the bad decision than wanting to correct what has already happened

Do what you need to make you feel better. Defeat your demons, destroy that pain Errors exist to know what someone else could fall into

and it's not that it's bad, it could be worse What doesn't kill you makes you better

listen to me, I will be here watching your actions wherever you are

My favorite phrase from this song is: "don't ask for the moon when it's barely dawning" (I just like how deep it sounds xD)

And that's all for now, I've never created a post here, I hope it's okay. Thanks for reading my crazy thoughts. Greetings!!

#deathduo #pissa #missasinfonia #missa #chayanne the egg #qsmp #philza #Youtube

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threelionsgirl · 11 months ago

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karma is my boyfriend| mason mount

part II of better with me

summary: y/n and mason finally arrive in cancun with y/n having to make a serious decision; while trying to understand her feelings for mason warnings: none word count: 1.760 notes: it's been a long time since i've posted anything, this was a sequel that i've been writing for a while, i even thought about posting it on wattpad bc i really like the plot, but i don't know, do you want a sequel? let me know!!! also i wanted to say that english isn't my first language so sorry for the mistakes, not reviewed (ignore the title too, I couldn't think of anything better

After just over two hours of pure sex with Mason, Y/N had decided that this was the best way to travel by plane, but she wasn't iron either. She was exhausted, and he wasn't much different either. For the rest of the time, realising they had no choice, they silently agreed to raise a peace flag, at least until the plane landed. They were still sharing that small sofa, but decided to put on some warmer clothes while the same blanket covered them. Y/N had discovered that she could occupy the same seat with Mason without fighting with him or fucking him… She hadn't felt that sensation since… Since they were 15, when things started to change between them and a part of her, however small, missed her friend. "So why didn't you break up with him?" Mason asked. They had been talking for a while about trivial things, and that was one of his biggest doubts. The low light and the cold climate made the atmosphere of the plane pleasant for that. He had one arm under her body and his Serbian bicep as a pillow to support her head. "Him who?" "Your boyfriend, Jake." Y/N grimaced as she remembered him. She didn't want to remember him while she was still with Mason, because she knew that cheating on him had been wrong.

"Well, I don't know… He's a nice guy, he treats me well, and I know he loves me." Guilt seemed to consume her even more after saying that, Jake was a nice guy, he didn't deserve what she was doing to him, even though she wasn't sorry. "I guess I was trying to focus on these things, thinking that it would be immature to end a relationship because of sex; Sex shouldn't be the basis of a relationship, and it shouldn't matter so much. I mean, there are people who live just fine without sex, right?" "You're not one of those people, so you're not going to live well that way." He said, and she looked at him, thinking that behind all that arrogance, Mason actually had a thinking brain. "I also agree that it shouldn't be the basis, but sex is fucking important." "You're right, I was just fooling myself. When we get there, I'll give him a call." "To break up?" He asked unassumingly, but with a faint thread of hope running through him. "Yeah, maybe, I guess. I mean, I don't want to hurt him, but I need to tell him I had sex with you. I'm sure he won't be happy to know." She pondered, knowing it would be difficult, but confident that it was the right thing to do. "What about you? Why did you break up with Karen?" She turned sideways to look at him, no longer feeling awkward about having his body so close and wanting to look him in the eye. Mason wanted to pull her around the waist with his other hand and entwine his legs in hers, but somehow it didn't seem right.

"She was suffocating me." He let off steam, remembering how sometimes, or almost always, Karen could be annoying. Mason preferred to summarise the story, the details were too stupid to hold Y/N's attention. "The Euro final was too difficult, and I really didn't want to bring her to Cancún with us." "Hmm." It was the only thing she decided to say, realising that Mason didn't want to prolong the subject any further, and neither did she. Y/N stared at the roof of the plane, listening to the noise of the wind and the engines, the two of them there, it seemed like a parallel reality, and she began to wonder what it would be like when the plane landed. A part of her didn't want things to change because it scared the shit out of her. "Mount?" "What is it, princess?" His eyes were almost closed, but he opened them wide when he heard her voice. "I was serious at the time, let's not tell anyone about it." She said, pointing at him and herself. Mason stopped to think for a moment, in his mind this was the start of something new, but Y/N wasn't really interested in making things change. This fuelled something bitter inside him, so he decided to act the same way.

"I also think it'll be better if they don't know." She shook her head, sure that the subject was closed when he whispered: "So, do you hate me again?" "Wait until the plane lands, now I just want to sleep." Y/N spoke as if sleeping in his arms was the most comfortable place she had ever slept. It made Mason angry, but he couldn't do anything as he watched her eyes grow heavy, as Y/N fell asleep so close to his body. Not while that moment was all he ever wanted.

─────────────

"Look who's finally here? So? How was your trip? I guess you got through it without killing yourselves." Declan laughed as Mason and Y/N got off the plane. They had finally landed, and Y/N's brother decided that he would be the one to meet them at Cancún airport. Y/N couldn't believe it when the plane finally landed. When she woke up on top of Mason, from the window she could see that it was morning, she locked herself in the bathroom and only came out when they were minutes away from landing. It was time to get back to normal, and she had to get ready. She changed her clothes and dressed up as much as possible, trying to look like she hadn't had a hectic night of sex. Y/N left first, coming through the door like a rocket. She stared at Declan with fire in her eyes. Unlike her, he was in a good mood, smiling and wearing sunglasses to protect his eyes from the beautiful sun. "You're a terrible brother, you know that?" She grumbled, walking past him and handing him her bag to carry. He looked at Mason for answers, Declan thought that Y/N would get so angry that she would storm out of the plane swearing a thousand words and slapping his arm, but she seemed quite calm.

"What's up, bro." He greeted Mason and the two of them started walking side by side, behind Y/N who was a few steps ahead.

"I really thought she'd be angrier, what happened there?" Mason bit the inside of his cheek, flashes of the trip flooded his mind and he remembered every moment with Y/N, but he also remembered the deal they had made not to tell anyone, and that included Declan, so it was inevitable that he would have to lie to his best friend. He looked ahead so that Dec wouldn't notice. "I don't know, I slept the whole journey. Do you know how hard it is to put up with a girl as boring as the princess for so many hours?" "Don't be late next time then!" Dec slapped him on the back, laughing. He had thought he was a genius when he came up with the idea of putting Mason and Y/N on the same plane. That experience must have been the worst for both of them, and he found it amusing. The journey out of the airport was uneventful. They had decided to rent a mansion on the beach instead of staying in a hotel with the excuse of having more privacy. Lauren, Alex and Ben were already there when Dec, Mase and Y/N arrived. They hadn't really done much while waiting for the other two. Their plan was to set aside a few hours to rest and go out in the evening.

The house was big enough for everyone to have their own room, with the exception of Lauren and Declan, who preferred to stay together as expected. Y/N discovered that the last two rooms left were facing each other, which meant that Mason would be her next door neighbour. It was for these reasons that she hated arriving after everyone else. She went to her room to unpack and Alex went to help her so they could talk. The only thing Y/N could think about was taking a nice shower. "So, Y/N, is Jake coming?" Alex asked, throwing herself onto her bed after a while. Y/N was on the floor with her suitcases open, looking for an outfit to wear for the evening. Jake. She hadn't even stopped to think about him because remembering that she had cheated on her boyfriend wasn't the best thought. "I'm going to break up with him." "What? Why?" Alex stood up quickly, surprised. In her mind, Y/N and Jake were the happiest couple in the world, she couldn't imagine that they were facing problems to the point of breaking up. "Do you want me to be honest?" Y/N paused. "He's terrible in bed, and I've realised that I can't live without cumming." "Is that serious?" Alex was dumbfounded. Y/N just thought that she would only be more shocked if she knew that it was Mason who had made her realise all that. But Mason was her secret under lock and key.

"Very serious. I'll finish this" She indicated the clothes in her suitcase. "And call him." "You're going to end a year-long relationship over a mobile phone?" Alex looked sceptical, it was all so sudden. Y/N stood up, pondering. God, she had betrayed him, and now she was going to end it all with a phone call. She was a terrible person. That's for sure. Karma was her boyfriend and would come for her at any moment. "Do you want me to make you come here just to finish?" Either option was terrible. She could also pretend that nothing had happened and carry on with Jake, but that seemed even worse. As well as lying to him, she'd be lying to herself. "It makes sense." Alex agreed. Y/N shrugged and took a towel out of her bag. Through the crack in the door, she saw Mason, shirtless, entering his room, and bit her lip. A few hours later and she was already missing his hot body, but NO, it wasn't going to happen again. Ever.

"You look strange, Y/N." Alex's voice roused her from her thoughts, and Y/N stopped staring at the door, trying to forget that Mason was half-naked next door. "No, I'm not. I'm just… thinking about what we're going to do today." "Well, I don't know what I'm going to do, but you'll definitely be looking for a guy who can make you come." Alex laughed, walking past her and slapping her on the bum. Y/N sighed and laughed back. Alex had no idea that Y/N had already found this guy, and he was only a door away.

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alexsoenomel · 10 months ago

Text

The Reveries Of My Mind (Dean Winchester x Reader fluff/smut)

Summary: What happens when you discover you can feel someone's torment and struggles through an unexplainable bond?

"Your struggles are mine. Your sadness is mine. You're mine."

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , vanilla sex, dreams about the reader dying --not too graphic , first person fic

Word count: 6.7k

Note: I took my time with this one. I really like it. I've been struggling to write for so long it feels good to be back. Enjoy!

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

And a huge thank you to my wonderful beautiful best friend @ambergoddess444 for being the best beta reader <3

I’m gonna kill him.

I heard Sam’s voice echo in my mind as I was eating my pancakes. I looked at Dean who was stuffing his face with eggs and bacon, not really paying attention to Sam’s resting bitch face.

STOP CHEWING SO LOUD FOR THE LOVE OF CHUCK!

I heard him again and almost choked on my milk.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Oh, nothing,” I answered.

Dean just glanced at me and continued eating his breakfast.

It was Sunday and luck was on our side because we couldn't find a case. This would happen once in a blue moon so we were quite content with having a day off. Monsters sometimes sleep.

After breakfast Sam said he was going to go and catch up on some reading while Dean and I were left alone.

“Can I borrow Baby?” I asked, since it was July and summer was in full swing in Kansas. I wanted to forget about my job – about hunting – I wanted to go outside and feel the summer breeze in my hair in his beautiful Impala. I already knew his answer as soon as I saw his brow arch. He was very protective over his Baby; only allowed me to drive once after I begged him for my birthday.

Absolutely not.

“Why?”

I crossed my arms, my lips thinned.

“Why ask when you already gave me your answer?”

Dean raised his eyebrows, eyes widened as we were sitting at the table opposite of each other.

“I keep forgetting you can do that,” he said, looking away from me.

“You keep forgetting about your mental shield,” I told him as I went to the kitchen to get myself some coffee.

I didn't realize Dean was following me until I heard his voice.

“I can't just sit in silence and breathe while I think about nothing.”

“You mean to meditate?” I chuckled.

“Yeah…that.”

I took a sip of hot coffee Sam made after breakfast and turned around to face him.

“You have to strengthen your shield, Dean.”

“There has to be another way,” he said desperately as he poured coffee into his black mug.

“No there isn't, I told you. Everyone has a mental shield, but the reason why I can hear people's thoughts 99% of the time is because their shield is not strong enough. And how do you strengthen your shield? You shut up and meditate. Focus on it and build it.”

Dean wasn't pleased as he took another sip of his coffee.

“Sam meditates, can you still hear his thoughts?”

“I can, because it takes years to actually strengthen the damn shield and he started meditating six months ago.”

He just rolled his eyes as we went back to the library.

“I don't want you in my head,” he stated.

“I cannot help it, dumbass. Can I take the car or not?”

Dean took the keys out of his pocket and dangled them in front of my face. I tried to take them but he refused to give them to me.

Typical.

“I'm driving,” he told me with a smirk.

***

“Where do you want to go?” He asked me as I closed the car door.

“I don't have any particular destination in mind. I just wanted to drive around and listen to music.”

Dean gave me a soft smile before starting the engine. Baby was purring – I could never get tired of that sound; it was smooth and powerful – no wonder he was so protective of her. The car held memories, sacred moments and was filled with stories – good and bad.

“Sounds like a plan,” and with those words we were off.

We were on the main highway, heading to God knows where. Dean, of course being the driver, was controlling the music as well.

Dream On by Aerosmith was playing. I loved that song, but I was in the mood for Van Halen.

Driver picks the music. Shot-

“Shotgun what?” I smirked, glancing at him. I saw he gripped the wheel tighter and licked his lips.

“God, I hate when you do that,” he said. I chuckled.

Front windows were down, summer breeze in my face and hair gently caressing me as Crazy Train started playing. Ozzy was too chaotic for this drive. As much as I loved his songs I wanted something to ease my mind and not encourage my body to produce adrenaline. I dared to change the song.

Don't Fear The Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult.

Much better.

“Hey, I was listening to that,” Dean of course complained.

“Well not anymore,” I told him as I showed him a middle finger.

A chuckle left his lips before he spoke.

“Wanna grab a few drinks?”

“Dean I don't wanna get drunk at” – I looked at my phone to check the time – “11am.”

“You don't have to do anything you don’t wanna do. We can buy a few beers and go to our favorite hiding spot. If I get too drunk maybe, maybe I'll let you drive.”

I couldn't believe what I just heard. My heart was racing from excitement. Sam was always the designated driver; Dean would sometimes drive drunk without us noticing. I know that because he admitted that…while we were drinking after a successful hunt.

“Really?” I played skeptical; part of me was. “You're not afraid I'll crash your beloved car?”

“If you do, I'll kill you,” he looked at me and gave me a flat smile.

Fair enough.

“Well okay.”

She won't crash my car.

Well I think she won’t.

I hope she won’t.

I didn't say anything, just stared at the trees blurred on my right side as we passed by; absorbing the warmth and sunshine in my face.

It's My Life By Bon Jovi started playing.

Perfect.

Dean bought a couple of beers and some Slim Jims at the first gas station just before his favorite hiding spot.

The hiding spot was an abandoned house we found a few months ago when we were hunting a vampire nest. It was an old cabin in the middle of nowhere, a few miles away from the main road. After exterminating the nest, we started coming there every once in a while to relax and get away from everything that made us hunters. Sam completely forgot about that place but Dean and I would occasionally go, mainly at night to get away from the bunker’s haunting reminder of the life we were living. There we were just regular folk, drinking and having fun. The house was dusty and old, but dear to us, like a portal to a regular life and what we desperately wanted, but could never have.

As we were approaching the house I couldn’t ignore the strong sense of serenity coming from Dean. His mind was at ease, no racing thoughts, no sorrow he would usually carry within himself – he was happy. I’ve never told him about that; I know he would probably freak out – yell even – so I kept my mouth shut. I would be lying if I said it didn't freak me out as well. Every emotion he would feel, I would feel too and sometimes even twice as strong. It was like a bond of some sort; an invisible string connecting us and letting me see and feel every inch of his mind. I would wake up whenever he couldn’t sleep, I’d laugh whenever he’d laughed and I would get angry whenever he’d get angry…I felt everything and it was driving me insane not being able to talk to him about it, because it was only him I’d felt connected to.

I smiled at him when he turned off the engine, feeling the warmth in his soul. I got out of the car and stretched my legs, inhaling fresh summer air and soaking in the sunshine on my skin.

“Let’s have a picnic,” I suggested, “I don’t wanna go inside. The weather is beautiful.”

“A picnic? Here?” He asked, looking around. Nothing but endless grass fields around us; the highway was peeking through the greenery but we could barely see it anymore.

“You will be fine, princess,” I chuckled, “Besides it’s good to connect with mother nature every once and a while.”

Forest nymph.

He started calling me that when I told him about my love and admiration for nature and my passion for hiking and exploring woods. He told me no sane person loves hiking, but his younger brother understood. Now, occasionally I’d go hiking with Sam.

I ignored his thought, even though I wanted to tell him we weren’t in a forest, and found a perfect spot next to the house and sat down. He rolled his eyes and joined me.

Dean cracked two bottles and I opened one of my favorite honey BBQ Slim Jims and took a first bite. I loved the smooth texture and a light honey flavor mixed with BBQ aroma in my mouth.

“Cheers!” He said lifting his bottle for a toast.

“Cheers, for not dying!”

He chuckled.

“For not dying!”

One beer…

Two beers later we were both feeling the consequences of our own actions. I was tipsy due to my low alcohol tolerance while Dean seemed sober but was far from it. He had a strange gift – being able to fake sobriety. He had been doing it for years and now seeing him behaving like a drunken fool looked strange and unfamiliar.

He was looking at me; green eyes sparkling under the sun making me wonder if he and I were ever meant for something more. I was in love with the idea of being in love with him but it scared me more than death which I had experienced a couple of times. He was my best friend, my annoying best friend with a heart of gold and a shadow he wanted to remain hidden.

We stayed for hours, soaking in the sunshine and summer heat while reliving old memories and wondering if this life we had was worth it. We soon realized, it was.

“We still get to experience this,” I stated, showing him a butterfly that flew in that moment right in front of me.

“Butterflies?” He wondered, tilting his head a little in confusion.

“Nature, dumbass,” I smiled, “And other small pleasures, music, alcohol, food…and also knowing the world is less shitty because of us.”

He nodded in a silent agreement before hearing him call me forest nymph again. His warm green eyes fixed on me, making me a bit nervous. He didn't say a word.

“What?” I finally asked him.

His right hand went into the pocket of his jeans and he pulled out his car keys.

“You can drive,” he told me and gave me the keys.

***

When we came back home safely, since I didn’t crash his precious car, Sam was still in his room, probably reading and Dean decided to take a nap since naps weren’t a regular occurrence in our household.

I decided to continue the book I started a couple of weeks ago. I missed being able to read books I wanted, and not just ones for research purposes. I could still feel him. He was content. I smiled and opened my book.

An hour into the book and a picture flashed right in front of my eyes. I saw blood, so much blood on the sidewalk. Hairs on my arms rose as another frame appeared: it was a girl lying face down, head bludgeoned. A wave of fear rushed over me as I closed my book, not being able to simply ignore it. I knew exactly what this was – Dean’s nightmares – I knew exactly who this was.

Another flash. His hands, covered in blood. He was trying to wake me up. He was calling my name over and over again like a prayer of despair, but I didn’t wake up; I didn’t move an inch.

Usually I would ignore his nightmares; I was too afraid to say anything, afraid of his reaction and not being able to give him a good explanation, but my silence was killing me. Something told me – maybe it was intuition or my impulsiveness, or both – I had to wake him up.

Quickly I got out of my bed and rushed to his room. His jaw was clenched, his body seemed stiff under the white sheet that covered him just below his chin. I could hear quiet moans coming from him as another picture appeared right in front of me – he was on his knees, holding me tight, eyes bloodshot red and filled with tears…My heart broke in a second before I closed my eyes, trying to make it go away. As I approached him I could see his eyes fluttering rapidly beneath his closed eyelids, his forehead glistening with a faint sheen of sweat…I had to wake him up.

“Dean?” I whispered and sat next to him. A whimper escaped his lips.

“Dean?” I called his name again, this time a little bit louder and with a hand on his cheek. He was warm.

“Dean, wake up!” I could feel his shock as he shot his eyes open, taking a deep breath like he forgot how to breathe, shivers running through him – I could feel them all over my skin.

He took in his familiar surroundings before he looked at me.

“You had a nightmare,” I told him.

“Yeah, a really bad one,” he simply added, pinching the bridge of his nose. A headache started to settle as he got up and went to the bathroom to splash himself with cold water. He was only wearing black boxers and it wasn’t like I have never seen him shirtless, it was the fact that every time I did, I had to tell myself not to stare like a Victorian man seeing ankles for the first time.

I swallowed thickly without saying a word.

I have to tell him. I repeated that sentence over and over again. I have to tell him he deserves to know.

When he came back my eyes registered his bulge for a second before looking up. I was praying he didn’t notice.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, so much for napping,” he lied and started putting on his blue jeans. I knew he was lying, he would always lie and repress his emotions and needs. I knew he was exhausted. Those nightmares had been happening for a week straight; the exhaustion showing on his face in a form of dark circles; the once lively features now appeared subdued; eyes dimmed.

“I saw it,” I utter these three words without much thought.

“What?” He was about to button his red flannel, stopping mid through.

“I saw your nightmare, you have been having the same nightmare for a week now.”

I refused to look at him, but I could feel his eyes on me as he took my words in. I could feel a slight sting in my chest coming from him – shock.

“You can read minds AND see people’s nightmares?”

“Not people’s; yours. It only happens with you, I wake up every time you have a nightmare, I feel every emotion you feel,” – I took a deep breath before I continued; I knew him well enough to know he hated secrets, even though he was a damn hypocrite and had his own – “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to freak you out. I cannot control it, trust me I tried, but I can’t. It has been happening for a while and-”

His eyes once trusting shited and now held a hint of disappointment, his jaw clenched. Anger.

Anger and disappointment.

“For how long?” His deep voice echoed in my ears as he cut my frantic explanation short.

I froze. I knew this question was coming. I knew right there that keeping this thing a secret was a mistake. I couldn’t answer it. I couldn’t…

“For how long (Y/N)?” He demanded crossing his arms. I didn’t like the sound of my name when he was angry.

I stood up, barely feeling my legs before I answered: “A year.”

“Does Sam know?” The next question came out less angrily, his voice softer than seconds ago.

“No.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. It started as just me feeling whenever you were happy, it was hard to recognise it at first, I thought it was my happiness and then it progressed to other emotions like fear, anger and sadness and after that I started seeing your dreams. I didn’t tell Sam because I wasn’t sure what was happening.”

“And you didn’t tell me because…?” He asked like I hadn’t given him the answer.

“I told you I didn’t want to freak you out. It feels like I’m invading your privacy.”

He scoffed.

“No shit Sherlock!”

His eyes widened before he spoke again: “Wait, so that means you can feel whenever I get horny?”

I chuckled. “No, because being horny isn’t an emotion, Dean. It’s a state.”

“Oh thank God,” he expressed his relief.

“I do feel the sudden rush of endorphins and happy hormones every time you come though,” at this point I had nothing to hide, especially when I could feel his anger subsiding. It wasn’t like him to just ignore something that made him angry, but for whatever reason he was over it. Now he was mortified.

“Oh God!” He said and opened the door of his room. “SAMMY! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE WE HAVE SOME RESEARCH TO DO!”

I swallowed a laugh before he turned around.

“We're gonna get to the bottom of this!”

***

Sam was genuinely surprised when I told him about the bond. He would usually try to find an explanation or guess what it was; this time he was silent. No logical explanation, no guessing, no nothing…

“Well that’s something I have never heard off,” he just told you and went to the library to try and find some books about…

Mind reading?

Bonds?

“I don’t even know what I’m looking for,” he said, looking at the spines of old books on the shelves.

“You’re telling me,” Dean agreed.

“It’s not like I’m a monster with abilities.”

My statement was enough to light a bulb in Sam’s head: “Yes but…” – he went to the second shelf behind you, like he knew what he was looking for – “You’re something else.”

Dean and I looked at each other in confusion before Sam pulled a book from the shelf.

“Indigo children?” I read the covers.

“Huh?” Of course Dean had no idea.

“I mean it makes sense, you said you were always highly empathetic, ever since you were a kid right?”

“Yes,” I nodded as he was flipping the pages trying to find a specific chapter. The book was annotated but it wasn’t his handwriting.

“Also you started reading minds when you were 7?”

“Well kinda.”

“Before that it was like a guessing game, you just knew?”

“Sort of.”

Chapter 54. Abilities.

Indigo children are children who are believed to possess special, unusual, and sometimes supernatural traits or abilities.

“I have been on this Earth for how long and I’ve never connected the dots,” I said, admiring my own stupidity and inability to dig deeper. I was never curious enough to find an explanation for my ability; never cared enough to think about it too deeply; when I started living with Sam and Dean five years ago I told them right away what I could do. They first thought I was Azazel’s long lost special kid, the one that was lucky enough to somehow hide in the shadows back when Azazel was still alive, but that wasn’t the case. My parents were killed by a vampire and I’d never met Azazel; I didn’t even know he existed until they told me. I only knew regular black eyed demons.

“So, you were a gifted kid? That still doesn’t explain your ability to do what you have been doing for a year,” Dean scoffed.

Who names gifted kids indigo kids? Seriously?!

You chuckled.

“Wait, you have been able to do that for a year?” You heard Sam, your eyes still on the book, trying to find something, anything that would indicate the existence of the said bond.

“Yes, why?”

“Go to chapter 55,” he told me. I flipped a few pages until I saw: Chapter 55, Soulmate bonds.

An Indigo child can stumble upon an unprecedented neural synchronization when encountering their soulmate. This synchronization extends beyond telepathic communication, as it involves the transmission and reception of emotional states and dream imagery, resulting in an intimate sharing of thoughts, feelings, and subconscious experiences. Although very rare, it is possible for an Indigo child’s soulmate to be mortal, with no supernatural abilities. If an Indigo child does encounter their soulmate the bond can snap into place usually after 4 or 5 years (one case showed it can also happen after six months).

“I read this book before we met so it never crossed my mind,” I heard Sam say as I was absorbing the information. I’d known him for five years…

Five years…

It made sense.

As I was reading the first chapter out loud Dean’s wave of shock made my heart beat faster as Sam went to the kitchen to get some booze. It was like he read my mind. I have never heard of his bond. As much as I loved the idea of Dean being mine, I knew he came with tons of baggage, untreated alcoholism, and rage so immense it made my stomach turn. I was no better though just with less intensity and alcoholism.

That’s bullshit.

My heart broke hearing these words, but I finally got the courage to look at him, and for the first time his face was unreadable. He was silent. And then he just left.

Sam came back with a bottle of whiskey in one hand and three classes in the other.

“Where’s Dean?”

“He left…to process, I guess,” I said before hearing Dean slamming the front door.

Sam, knowing me too well, didn’t say anything and just poured me a glass of Dean’s fine whiskey. I took a sip feeling a sweet burn down my throat. We were silent for a while, my words buried deep in my mind; struggling to articulate my thoughts as if I had any at that moment.

“How do you feel about all of this?” Sam finally spoke, breaking the pleasant silence.

A lump formed in my throat as I tried to blink back tears. I cleared my throat and took another sip.

“I think…I’m scared to tell him he already has me wrapped around his finger with or without the stupid bond,” my answer was honest. I was scared – terrified of crossing the boundary; breaking the only rule I had: no long term relationships. Anything more than a friendship with Dean would end catastrophically; I was aware of that and yet I still secretly hoped. I wanted him to want me, I wanted him to look at me and see a safe space; I wanted him so painfully to see me and think: “She’s worth it.”

“Oh he knows, he's just being a dick about it,” Sam’s bluntness surfaced as he drank his glass of whiskey.

“What do you mean?” I asked, not really following him.

He knows?

“You two have something I’ve only experienced once in my life and yet you refuse to acknowledge it.”

My forehead creased as I subtly tilted my head in confusion. Then I heard Sam’s voice in my head as he looked at me with a soft smile on his face.

Jessica…

“Oh…” was all I could say.

“Yeah, he was scared before, now he’s probably terrified. Talk to him when he gets back.”

“So he can reject me? And probably tell me to move out? Even if he feels the same, I know Dean, and he would rather give up alcohol for the rest of his life than talk about his feelings.”

Sam snorted and nodded silently agreeing with me.

“Trust me. He won’t reject you. He’s my brother, I know him a little bit better than you do.”

***

Dean was gone for hours it seemed. I couldn’t stop thinking about him, about the bond, so I did what any sane hunter would do – I repressed my thoughts with more whiskey and drowned myself in more research with Sam. The more I drank it felt like I became more sober.

I wanted to know more about this soulmate bond. I wanted to know if there was any other way for people to block me from entering their minds besides strengthening the mental shield.

“I’ve never asked you, how did you find out about the shield anyway?” Sam asked me behind his laptop while I was trying to find books about telepathy.

“A witch told me,” I stated behind bookshelves, “When my parents died I let it control me, I couldn’t stand it, I could hear every single person I came in contact with and it was driving me nuts. So, I found a witch, a good one, and she helped me control it and told me about the shield since she was the first person I couldn’t tap into.”

I remember her fondly. Her white crow would sometimes appear, to let me know she was alive and I would visit her every year on her birthday in winter. I would tell the Winchesters I was seeing an old friend; without adding too much detail, since I knew Dean’s hatred of witches far too well.

“Good witches exist?”

“Oh yeah, she’s wonderful.”

There wasn’t any other way for other people to shield their minds from me, sadly.

“Oh but I think I found something,” Sam told me and turned his laptop towards me. I read the short paragraph and looked at him.

“I can do that?”

“You can try.”

***

Dean was still gone by the time we decided to take a break from research. Sam decided to go for a walk before bed while I went to my room to try and contact Dean through the bond. The article Sam found stated it was possible to contact your soulmate if you focused all of your energy on them.

I have no idea what I’m doing.

I laid on my bed and closed my eyes, picturing Dean standing right in front of me. Even in my mind he made me nervous. His aura was so captivating and stoic; you couldn’t forget him even if you tried. His name escaped my lips a few times, eyes still closed, but all I could hear was dead silence.His face still engraved in my mind, I studied his features: his smile lines, beautiful kissable lips, his perfect nose, freckles…

Dean? I called.

(Y/N), what the hell?

He heard me. I could feel my feet going cold as my body went numb. My heart was in my throat.

I’ll explain later! Please come home, I wanna talk to you.

In a second, my mind lost focus as I became more aware of my nervousness and he was gone. I couldn’t see him anymore.

“Crap!” I uttered in frustration and decided to text him.

Please come home.

***

I heard his footsteps thirty minutes later. I was ready for the worst; I was ready for Dean to tell me to leave; I was ready for all of it to end.

I heard him knock seconds later.

“You there?”

“Come in!”

He closed the door behind him. I was in the middle of trying to read my book, emphasis on trying, since the nervousness turned into full blown anxiety and I couldn’t focus on anything but him. I put the book down as he sat on the bed. I was hit with a sudden smell of cigarettes and alcohol in my nostrils. He probably went to a bar.

“How did you do that?” He asked, this time looking me dead in the eyes. His gaze wasn’t soft – I couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated – his eyes bore into mine with such seriousness I’d only seen a handful of times.

“I did some research with Sam. The bond allows us to communicate telepathically.”

“I-I can also do that?”

“If you concentrate hard enough, yeah.”

An astounded chuckle was all I heard. And then:

This is crazy.

I know.

His lips parted slightly once he realized he could hear me. I on the other hand didn’t want him to hear me, but looking at him, seeing the evident worry and fear in his green eyes, I couldn’t control it. It became natural.

“Where were you?” I asked and boldly decided to sit next to him.

“Went to our favorite hiding spot to think. When thinking became too much, I went to a bar and had a couple of drinks.”

“And? What are your thoughts?”

His hand gently found mine, intertwining his fingers with mine. I wasn’t sure if I was breathing at that moment. I could feel my cheeks burning as he pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead.

“I feel like ignoring how I feel about you just made everything worse.”

I’m terrified.

I ignored it and focused on his actual voice. “And I feel like this bond slapped me in the face.”

“You and me both,” I smiled.

Sam was right after all. I didn’t know what else to say but all I could think about was pressing my lips against his. I wanted to kiss him so badly, but my body refused to cooperate with my mind.

I didn’t need to kiss him first, because his lips found mine in a matter of seconds. The kiss was gentle, warm; his lips perfectly pressed against mine. I opened my mouth letting him know he could explore it with his tongue and he was happy to do so. A whine escaped my lips when he broke the kiss.

“I heard you,” he smirked.

Please stay with me. My mind yelled.

“I will,” he heard me. Again.

***

Dean went to get ready for bed and so did I. It was already 11pm, Sam was long gone, snoring in his room after a long walk and I went to take a shower.

It will probably happen.

Maybe it won’t?

Maybe we will just cuddle and sleep?

Yeah right.

Why am I so nervous?

I’m nervous because the last time I was in love with someone he left me for a girl named Karen.

In high school.

Crap.

My thoughts were racing as I was washing myself and getting ready to spend the night with him. I put on my shirt and a pair of clean underwear before brushing my teeth. I turned off the lights and went under the covers. Somehow it was always cold in my room, no matter the season. I focused on my soft pillow and how it felt against my cheek as I turned on my side. That lasted maybe two seconds as my mind kept drifting and wondering what was coming next. The thought of him pressed against me made me excited; his lips on my neck, hands on my hips…

I didn’t even realize I was rubbing my thighs together, desperately seeking some form of release. Thank God I was tired, a few moments later I could feel my eyelids getting heavier and my body finally relaxing. I wondered where Dean was as I started drifting and soon enough I got my answer.

He would always take long showers; so I wasn’t surprised when he came 15 minutes later. He found me peacefully drifting between realms of reality and dreams, and with his hands wrapped around me pulled me back to reality – to him. My back pressed against him; we stayed like this, as my patience was running low and I could feel myself getting wet.

He was melting any sense of restraint I had and even with nervousness practically suffocating me, I turned around and snuggled against him, his chin resting on top of my head. He was warm; skin soft as I took a deep breath to breathe in his scent – forest after rain and him.

“Did you know?” I whispered into him.

“Huh? What?” His deep raspy voice so close to ears made me shiver.

“Did you know that I have feelings for you?”

Sam said he did, but I wanted to hear from him.

“I suspected it, but refused to believe it. Until Sam confirmed it.”

“How did Sam know? I’ve never told him.” I said and lifted my head to look at him. It was dark, but I could still see the outlines of his face – he smiled at me.

“He told me you get smiling eyes when we are together. I didn’t really know what he meant until we took down that vampire nest back in Austin. I told you, you were an idiot for trying to take down a whole damn nest by yourself and you kept looking at me with those dove lookin’ eyes.”

I smiled. I remembered that. It was a few months ago and I was indeed an idiot. He and Sam almost died and I had to do something. I was reckless and instead of coming up with a plan I let my machete go wild.

“Well it’s not my fault you’re hot when you’re angry.”

I could feel his smirk before I kissed him, this time cupping his cheek with my hand. He immediately kissed back, pulling me closer to him like that was even possible. This time, one kiss turned into another and another. We both didn't want to pull away; his hands hesitantly started roaming under my shirt, instantaneously sending shivers all over my body. I took his hands, breaking the kiss.

“Touch me. I'm yours,” I whispered before kissing him again, not being able to get enough. I could feel his little smirk against my lips as he tugged on my shirt trying to take it off. I took it off and in seconds he took his. My mind was focused on him and only him as I felt his soft skin under my fingertips.

You're going to be the death of me.

Likewise, sweetheart.

This time I smiled between kisses. I liked that nickname, I couldn’t wait to actually hear it out loud. He wasted no time before he pushed me onto the bed and straddle me; his lips not leaving mine. We were like two addicts; we couldn't stop; we didn't want to stop. He pressed his hips on mine and I could feel him, pressed against my wet center. A soft moan escaped my lips as my fingers tugged on his damp hair. He moved his lips on my neck, while his hand found my center. A light brush was enough to make me moan his name. I was so sensitive, so vulnerable underneath him; he was consuming every reverie of my mind.

I was growing impatient, but he knew that, and now I couldn't hide anything from him anymore. The bond was stronger now, we didn't even have to try to communicate with one another; it was like breathing.

I lowered his boxers as much as I could and wrapped my hand around his hard dick, earning a groan from him. I pumped him a few times, as my impatience became his. He kissed me before standing on his knees and took my panties off. He stopped for a second.

Adoration – I could feel it through the bond. He was making me blush in the dark; my cheeks growing warm.

You're so beautiful.

Before I could answer him, he positioned himself between my legs and slowly entered me, stretching me nice and slow; his lips found mine again as he swallowed my gasp and slowly started to move. My legs wrapped around his hips, wanting more, more and more…

I was about to get drunk and see stars. My hands were around his neck before I cupped his face. He broke the kiss when we both couldn't breathe, biting my shoulder lightly, his pace becoming faster.

My mind only knew his name as I was chanting it over and over again, like a sweet prayer. He nuzzled his head in my neck, kissing it sloppily.

“You feel so good, sweetheart,” he whispered in my ear.

I was in a complete haze, unable to muster anything but his name.

His nose resting on my cheek, he placed a soft kiss only to swallow my moans once more, as we both started to fall apart.

“Dean, I-,” I wasn't able to speak, I could feel it in the pit of my stomach and I could tell, feel, he wasn't going to last much longer.

“I know, baby. I know. I can feel it,” he said and I wasn't sure if he could feel it through the bond or if my body was telling him – or both.

My moans became desperate; with that voice Dean could make me do whatever his little heart desired.

We came in sync, eyes locked and growing breathless. He couldn't keep my name out of his mouth and I didn't want him to. When he pulled out and laid next to me we were both panting and growing sleepier. I lazily moved closer to him, kissing his shoulder as he immediately wrapped his hand around my torso and pulled me close.

“And you thought we'd just cuddle,” he chuckled.

I raised my head to look at him.

“You heard me?”

“Yeah, we have to figure out how to not hear each other's thoughts all the time.”

“Well…” I started and he just shot me a death glare.

“I ain't meditating.”

I cupped his face, squeezing his cheeks lightly making his lips pout.

“Fine,” I said and gave him a pack on the lips, “we will find another way.”

“Thank you.”

I stayed in his arms until we both fell asleep. He played with my hair and I drew small circles on his chest. He asked me about the research – what I found, what I didn't – asked me about us.

“If it's meant to be it's meant to be,” my eyelids grew heavy as I mumbled the words and drifted to sleep.

Dean kissed my forehead and closed his eyes.

***

I could feel Dean’s hands pulling me closer to him, his fingers digging into my flesh as my ears heard him say my name in a form of whisper. I lazily opened my eyes not knowing if he was awake or not. His fingers dug into my stomach as he repeatedly called me in a frantic tone.

He’s dreaming.

“Dean?” I turned around and even in complete darkness my eyes registered his clenched jaw, while my body felt the stiffness of his.

“Dean?” I repeated again and nuzzled my head under his chin and placed a gentle kiss on his neck. I knew what he was dreaming about – I was dying again and he was trying to save me.

Dean, baby wake up!

I told him through the bond as I stroked his soft hedgehog-like hair. I could sense the fear lingering within him as his eyes shot open, his breathing came in uneven gasps and his chest was rising and falling frantically. I wrapped my hand around his torso and embraced him in a tight hug as the weight of the nightmare still lingered.

“I’m here,” I repeated a couple of times, giving him the reassurance I knew he needed.

“It’s just a dream, Dean.”

His breathing became stable again.

“You died,” eventually he told me. The fear was gone and replaced with sadness – sadness so somber and heavy I only felt once when Charlie died.

“No, I didn’t. I’m here,” I told him and placed his hand on my chest.

“I’m right here,” I said before kissing him. A sigh of relief left his lips.

“I feel like I’m gonna lose it…the same dream over and over.”

He was desperate, so desperate for answers it made my soul ache, but I knew this wasn’t the time.

“I know, and we will figure it out. Sleep baby, I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered before kissing him lovingly. His hand found my cheek as I broke the kiss resting my forehead against his.

“Your struggles are mine. Your sadness is mine. You're mine,” I told him as my legs intertwined with his. My hand was on his chest, feeling his heart beating faster. Something was traveling through the bond, something lovely and warm I could only describe it as love. Suddenly I heard it; a whisper traveling through the bond: I love you, before he kissed me again.

I love you too.

Tagged: @lacilou , @littlemadamred , @girls-alias , @captainannatheweirdo , @nancymcl

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meixstar · 6 months ago

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heyy, i saw that your requests are open and i was wondering if i could please request fluff with sukuna, comforting the reader when they have a bad mental health day if its okay, thank you🩵

❥ Synopsis In the end everything will be fine, if just for a moment.

❥ Pairing Sukuna x Reader

❥ Content gn!reader, mentions of mental health, some swearing, fluff, slight angst to comfort, Sukuna being Sukuna

❥ Word Count 905

❥ A/N Thank you for your request, Anon! :) I should have done more research about mental health but I still hope this comforts whoever needs it right now. I'm also still learning how to exactly write characters and their personalities so please be patient with me, and give me some tips if you like c: Take care of yourself and enjoy!

♡ Finding Comfort in the Storm ♡

It was clear that today hadn't been the best day - not after oversleeping, missing an important deadline, and then once again getting yelled at by your boss.

Why did these things always have to happen to you?

Sukuna could tell that you weren't feeling well. Or at least he knew that something must be bothering you by the look on your face. Was he annoyed that you won't tell him? Definitely.

"Oi, what is it with you today?" He speaks in his deep voice as he watches you flop down on the couch beside him, face buried in the soft material. You just shake your head, not daring to meet his eyes while your own fill with tears.

Today had been really stressful, and now you just want to let go and let everything out.

"Don't play dumb with me, I know you're upset over something," he says gruffly, pulling on your arm to make you sit up. His fingers wrap around your wrist like a vice as he examines your face, trying to figure out what's going on behind those tears.

"I'm not," you answer in a weak attempt to stop him from further investigating. "Today's just been.. shitty." Sukuna raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by your half-hearted response. "Save it, brat. You think I don't know when someone is lying to me? What's going on? Did someone bother you?"

The grip on your wrist tightens ever so slightly as he leans closer, his breath hitting your forehead. Finally, the tears are being spilled as they run down your cheeks. You desperately try to dry them with the sleeve of your sweater but to no avail.

He lets out a low growl under his breath, his expression darkening as he watches you cry, his gaze piercing through the tears, almost as if searching for the root of your distress. "Tell me." his demand is soft-spoken yet laced with an underlying intensity that brooks no refusal.

"I-I'm tired," quiet sobs leave your lips as you lower your head to flee his piercing gaze. "All week I've been just so tired. I can barely get out of bed, shower or find the motivation to eat. Work has been stressing me out as well. I just.. want to sleep."

His grip on your wrist eases, his touch gentling as he reaches out with his free hand to brush away the strands of hair clinging to your damp cheek. "And you thought you could handle it all on your own, huh?" a hint of amusement creeps into his voice, accompanied by a raised eyebrow, though his eyes remain fixed on yours, probing deeper.

You shrug weakly in a feeble attempt to respond to him. "I have to," you answer in a hoarse voice from your crying session. "But at the same time, I feel like I can't even take care of myself sometimes. I hate that feeling.."

A fleeting glimmer of curiosity flickers across Sukuna's face before he masks it with a neutral expression, his gaze never wavering from yours "So, you'd rather exhaust yourself than admit weakness and ask for help?" his words are laced with a subtle, probing quality, as if he's digging deeper into the recesses of your mind.

You let out a quiet sniff and wipe your nose with your sleeve. "What?" With a slow raise of your head, you come once again face-to-face with him. His expression is cold, yet there lies something else.. perhaps tenderness? Care? Who knows.

Sukunas eyes seem to bore into you, "You're still not getting it, are you?" he whispers ever so slightly. His breath dances across your skin, sending shivers down your spine as he inches closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "You don't have to be strong all the time." that was.. unusual for him. Him? The King of Curses saying you should let your guard down?

Once again, your lips begin to tremble. But it's still so hard to do just that - being not strong when everyone, including yourself to be just that at any given moment. "Let go, just for tonight. Let someone else carry the weight of your heavy burden for once." his words are laced with a promise, a silent vow to be that someone who'll hold you together when everything seems to be falling apart.

"I'm tired.." a weak whisper into his ear as you slowly begin to calm down. Sukuna's lets go of your wrist, and he wraps his arms around you instead, pulling you close as he settles back into the couch, cradling you against his chest. "Then sleep. I've got you." his words are low, reassuring, and for once, devoid of any arrogance or condescension.

"Since when are you so good at comforting?" you let out a big yawn as the tiredness you so desperately tried to avoid comes seeping through.

A low, rumbling chuckle vibrates through his chest, making you feel the vibrations against your ear. "I'm not. I'm just good at manipulating people to get what I want." he murmurs, his hand stroking your hair in gentle, soothing motions. "And right now, I want you to relax."

A small smile forms on your face before you drift off into a peaceful slumber. Sukuna's gaze lingers on your serene face, his expression softer than usual, before he looks away. His eyes drift towards the window, where the first hints of darkness are creeping in.

♡ fanart from @xshuh90 on pinterest ♡

♡ divider by @benkeibear ♡

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk fluff #fluff #how do i use tumblr #request #jjk smut #jjk gojo #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x you

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f4iry-bell · 3 months ago

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for your event!! would you do a Jameson x reader where the reader is hopeful journalist and is scared that she’ll never be loved and it reflects in her work.

pairing: jameson hawthorne x reader

summary: well ↑

taglist: @clarissaweasley-10 @whatsamongus @sheisntyou @emelia07 @elysianwayy77 @cassie6392 (lmk if u want to be in this)

word count: 784

a/n: anon, hope you like this, anon. ily!

masterlist | 300 event masterlist

Being in the school newspaper doesn't automatically make one a good journalist, just a good writer for her age. I got a lot of compliments about my writings but I never felt truly appreciated for my writings. Because people read two sentences and then poof, they say you're amazing. What about the rest of my work? Do those two sentences judge my entire work? Everytime I read and reread my work I want to rip the printed paper to pieces. Especially since I joined college, I somehow managed to be in the college newspaper as well, probably because I was in my school newspaper.

I didn't get any recommendations or any of that sort, I managed to believe that I am where I am for my talent. In school, I doubted myself a lot, I thought my writing was bad because people didn't read them entirely, it took me time to realise that they are just lazy to read.

Or they just don't want to read my work. They just don't care about what I have to say. Even my own friends.

Maybe that's the reason I haven't made it yet. Sure, I do talk to people but you can't label them friends. With all of this, I somehow managed to grab the attention of the smartest, most handsome, and charming boy in college ever; Jameson Hawthorne.

His first words to me were “nice work.” I wanted to scream, because with those two words he also added “pretty girl.”

We started by talking a lot after that. I went to him when I wasn't sure of my writing. He is an honest critique and I was able to take criticism. But there was this nagging feeling that told me that he's just tolerating me and my work. Sometimes I wonder if he ever regrets talking to me first at all.

I was about to leave the newspaper room when Jameson walked in holding the newest paper of our college, and he looked pissed.

“Can we talk?” He asked, trying to keep his cool which was obvious.

“Sure. What is it about?” I asked. That's it, he's mad about something that I did. He's gonna leave too.

“What is this?” He placed the paper on my table with my article on being the wallflower.

“My article.”

“I can see that. Did you take inspiration from a character? Or did you write it just with your imagination? Tell me it's either of those.” Jameson’s tone was firm.

I just stayed quiet. I'm not telling him that I'm a loser, and people hate me for that directly.

“Seriously?! I know you're shy and reserved, and don't like people. I know your family’s history. But writing that you're never been truly loved by anyone? That no one cares about you, ever?” He scoffed.

There was a moment of silence before I spoke. “It's the truth, Jameson. I'm not going to lie.” I shrugged.

He's going to leave anyway, so what's the point of trying?

“6 months.” Was all he said.

“What?”

“We've known eacother for 6 months. And I've been nothing but nice to you. Yes, I tease and mess with you sometimes but have I ever given you the idea where I don't care about you?” He looked hurt now.

“I- It's complicated.”

“It's not, damn it. How can you not see it!”

“See what? Cause all I'm seeing right now is my friend who is pissed at me about work, who is going to drop me like everyone else.”

Jameson frowned which made me frown. “You really think that just because I'm mad I'll drop you?”

“It's how people are, Jameson.”

“I'm not people. Those people were stupid.”

“You say this now. But I'll do something else to make you mad, and then you'll drop me.”

“You're stupid sometimes for a person who is way too good with words.”

“What?”

“Why can't you see how much I love you?” His features relaxed, it looked like he just spilled something that he was holding for a very long time.

“You what?”

“I'm in love with you. And you're too blind to see it, and now I'm afraid you won't even believe it.”

“Jameson— I don't know what to say.”

“Just say you like me, you don't even have to love me. Say you have feelings for me, and I promise you I'll do everything to make you believe how much you can be loved. Don't push me away, don't sabotage this.”

After a few moments of silence I nodded. Jameson's shoulders relaxed as he took a step forward to kiss my forehead. “I'll do everything, okay? And you know how ‘everything’ can be when I say it.”

#the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #jameson hawthorne x reader #jameson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #the hawthorne brothers #xander hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #avery grambs #nash hawthorne #the grandest game

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pensat-i-fet · 1 year ago

Text

Shared insecurities (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**So I recently got a request to write about the reader being slightly insecure because of being flat chested and that would lead us to some fluff. As a fellow flat-chested gal, I found the idea pretty good. So I hope you like it as well ❤️**

Word count: 2240

Masterlist

Wattpad

"I'm going shopping!"

"Can I come?"

"I'm going with Rachel, sorry".

Rúben pouts, making me laugh.

"Are you buying clothes for our holidays?"

"Of course, everything I have looks terrible all of a sudden so I need to fix that".

"Buy something sexy", he winks and I shake my head.

Something sexy…sure, one actually has to feel sexy in order to look sexy. And I can't say that's the case for me right now. But I try to forget all that when I meet Rachel to go on our shopping trip.

"Hear me out. I know we're not going to travel together but how cute would it be if we both had this matching set? We could be twins on different sides of the world".

I laugh and pick up the clothes she's showing me. Rachel and I have similar taste, so it's not surprising to me I actually really like this set. What we don't have in common is our body shape.

"I don't know, Rach. This top would look great on you but what do I do wearing this?"

"You look hot. That's what you do", she shrugs.

"How?", I say, pointing to my chest.

"What are you even talking about? You wear tops like this all the time even if you don't have much to show. At least you don't have to deal with all I have to show", she says, pointing at her own chest.

"But people like what you have to show. They look at me and wonder if I went through puberty yet".

I leave the top back where it was and move to see other clothes. Of course, Rachel follows me, frowning.

"Has Rúben made a comment about it?"

"About what?"

"About your boobs being small".

"No", I sigh. He's never made me feel like my body isn't good enough or pointed out any flaws. I'm good at doing that myself. I don’t need his help.

"Then where is this coming from?"

"I don't know. Of course I've been insecure about being so flat-chested in the past. But I thought I had made my peace with it. And now all of a sudden it's back. I see all these women with their tiny tops looking so good. Or all the bikini photos on Instagram and…well, then look at myself and it's pretty underwhelming".

"Don't compare yourself to others, please. You're perfect the way you are. And just so you know, it's very uncomfortable sometimes to have bigger boobs like mine. I so wish I had yours many times".

"You don't have to say that to make me feel better but I appreciate it".

"I mean it", and I've known her long enough to know she's saying the truth.

But still, whenever I pick another top or bikini, Rúben's words come back to my mind. "Buy something sexy". Because surely he wants me to be sexy. For him. And yet this is what he gets.

For our holidays, we go to a small Greek island. Tourism here isn't as bad and so we can relax better.

"Take that off", I hear Rúben say and open my eyes to look at him.

"Take what off?"

"The shirt", he says and I can see he's got a bottle of sunscreen in his hand.

"I'm good. I already put cream on my legs, don't worry".

"How can you be good? It's almost 40 degrees and you're wearing a shirt".

"I'm fine", I tell him, even though it's really hot and I'm not fine at all.

"Is everything ok? Are you ill or something?"

"No, Rúben. Just stop pestering me, ok? I want to sunbathe in peace".

"With a shirt on".

I close my eyes and turn my head to the side so he can't see the little tears in my eyes. Why do I always have to be so emotional?

But, of course, he can read me like an open book and he moves around the sunbed to look at my face and try to find the answers I won't give him.

"Why are you crying? Did something happen when I was out?"

"No".

"Well, you're scaring me then".

"I don't want to wear a bikini".

His frown is even deeper now. "Not what I expected to hear. But why don't you? I mean, we're sunbathing…is it because of the news that people have been filming women at the beach without their consent? We're in a private area, that shouldn't happen".

"As if anyone would want to take photos of me in a bikini", I mutter.

"I do", he laughs, not understanding what I'm saying.

But instead of telling him, I just get up and go back to the room, closing the door before he can get inside. And I know he'll get the message that I need a second to be alone.

Ten minutes later, the door opens and he finds me staring at myself in the mirror.

"Tell me what's wrong, please. I can't help you if I don't know".

"How can you like this?"

"Like what?"

"This", I say, pointing at my chest. "Your boobs are bigger than mine, Rúben".

"So? What's the problem?".

"Well, you want me to be sexy. I want to be sexy too. And this…this is anything but sexy".

"Why do I find you sexy then?"

I shake my head. "I don't want to be treated like a child, Rúben. I have eyes. And I know what men like. You want someone like Rachel. And I want to look like her too. I'm not blaming you".

"If I wanted to be with someone like Rachel, I would be with someone like her. I don't. I'm with you. And I've been for a while. Don't you think that if your body was a problem, I would have noticed already?"

I put the shirt back on, ignoring him, and go back to bed. But soon, he's lying down next to me.

"It's ok to be insecure sometimes but don't doubt me, please. We've always been honest with each other".

"This is different".

"How?"

"This isn't something I can change. It's not ugly clothes or like that time I thought getting highlights on my hair was a good idea".

"And who says you have to change it?"

"I do. I'm usually confident but we all want to fit it. To fit the standard of what people find attractive".

"And you think you don't already", he says, shaking his head. "That insecurity has gotten to your head but once it's gone, you'll see how wrong you were".

"You don't get it".

Rúben sits up and I follow his movements with my eyes.

"I do. Do you think I just go to the gym to be strong? I want to look good. I want to fit in that stupid idea of what attractive is too. But that's not where the insecurity ends", I sit up to listen to him and he continues. "When I miss a header I think maybe it's because I'm not as tall as other players but I can't change my height so I work extra hard on my jumps. When I'm too slow I wonder if it's because all the muscle I have somehow slows me down. But if I don't have the muscle, I lose strength for the one-on-ones with other players. And the list goes on. You know how I feel after a bad match".

"Yes, you're pretty unbearable", I joke.

"And you put up with me and tell me what a great player I am and the insecurities disappear. So let me do the same for you".

"I don't know if you can right now. The idea is too stuck in my head".

He gets up and offers a hand so I do the same. Then he walks me to the mirror and moves to stay behind me.

"Let's take this off", he says, trying to remove my shirt but I try to stop him. "Let me".

I lift my arms and he takes the shirt off. I look at the bikini again and feel the need to cover myself. But he holds my arms when he notices.

"This is what you think is ugly, then?"

"I don't know if ugly is the word. But not good enough".

He then moves to my side and I look at him frowning.

"You're right. My boobs are bigger than yours".

"What?", I say, choking on a laugh.

"Maybe I should wear a bikini too".

"Rúben, stop".

"No no, let me try".

In a move I didn't expect, he removes my bikini top and tries to put it on his body but…he's bigger, in general. So it obviously doesn't fit.

I look at him, biting my lip so I don't laugh.

"Are you done being a clown?"

"No, because I made you laugh. And I also got your top off, which is another win for me. Because I like what I see. A lot".

"Thank you", I tell him, putting my arms around his shoulders and kissing him. "Should I just stay like this all day? You can wear my bikini if you want to".

"But I don't want tan lines", he whines jokingly.

I end up putting my top on again because he's right about the people taking photos of others. And because insecurities don't disappear after a couple of nice words, no matter how much they helped. But I leave the shirt in our room. Baby steps.

When I get bored of just lying down there, I pick up my phone and go on Instagram. Rachel has posted photos from her own holidays and I like the post before seeing all the photos. But then, I look at them.

"Look how great she looks in a bikini", I tell Rúben. "This is what I meant".

"I don't think many boyfriends get told to look at other women's boobs by their own girlfriends, you know?"

"Stop joking. You know I'm right".

"She looks good, yeah. And so do you. Send her a photo of you in that bikini".

"What?"

"It's Rachel", he says as if that explains everything. "She doesn't lie to you. Don't ask for her opinion on how you look. Just send the photo".

He's right so I find a photo we took earlier, as part of Rúben's plan to make me feel better. And I send it to my best friend.

It doesn't take her long to respond and I laugh.

"What did she say?"

"Stop sending me photos of you looking hot while I'm here with my boyfriend".

"Hot? Good word choice".

"I get the point, Rúben".

"I mean, gorgeous would have done too. Maybe even fucking gorgeous if we want to make sure you really get it".

I roll my eyes while he continues reciting all the adjectives he could use to describe me. But I love hearing him say all of that.

After a very lazy day, we shower and get ready to go out for dinner and a drink. I pick one of the summer dresses I bought on my shopping trip with Rachel. The neckline is pretty low but it's not as if I have much to cover so it works well for me.

"No bra. Naughty!", says Rúben when he sees me putting the dress on.

"I can't wear a bra with this dress".

"And that's why summer dresses are my favourites".

"Of course they are. Let's go eat. I'm starving".

The place is packed with people but we find a couple of seats at the bar and sit there while we wait for a table to be available.

We are just chatting, sipping on our drinks when a woman walks towards me.

"Sorry to bother you. Could you help me fix my top? My friends aren't here and I don't want to ask a man, you know".

I look at her, surprised by the request.

"Sure, what's the issue?"

She turns so I can see the back and points at the straps there. "Is it done the right way? Because it's hurting me".

"No. One of them is twisted. Let me undo this quickly so it's done right. The skin is a bit red too. Hold the front of the top well so it doesn't move".

"Thank you. God! I hate my boobs!"

Rúben lets out a little laugh at her words. "Sorry".

"Don't be. I know you don't get it but these can be so annoying sometimes. So many tops don't fit me or wearing them can hurt like it happened right now".

"Done", I say and she turns to look at me.

"Thank you", she says, giving me a quick hug and looking down at my chest. "See? Look at that gorgeous dress you're wearing. You get to make it look good. I'd have to spend the night trying to keep these two in place", she laughs.

"And I would love to be able to fill my tops with something other than air", I laugh too.

"We're never happy with what we got, are we?"

I shake my head and she says goodbye to us before leaving to go find her friends.

"You do look great in that dress", says Rúben, wrapping his arms around my waist and bringing me closer to him.

"And I don't have to worry about keeping anything in place".

"Plus the whole not wearing a bra thing…".

"Oh my God, Rúben. Grow up!"

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias x yn #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias fluff #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer fluff #footballer x reader

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my-corneroftheworld · 2 years ago

Text

Child without love

Summary: Namor finds a marine biologist with the powers to control water and deep knowledge of the sea and is intrigued.

Word count: 1,5k

Tags: Smut!!! (no minors allowed), "water-bender" reader x Namor after the events from Wakanda forever, possessive Namor, mutant reader, asphyxiation, war, violence, harsh language, the usage of y/n, Overstimulation, Edging, I dunno if it needs a dub-con tag but imma just leave it here just in case (consent is key guys), unprotected sex (wrap it before you plow it guys), afab reader

Ps. I hope you're thirsty cuz we got some spicy scenes coming up. Also, keep in mind this is my first smut ever so it won't be perfect. If you don't wanna read it you can skip it and read the next chapter with no issue. As usual, I accept any constructive criticisms in the comments and I hope you enjoy it. Thank you as usual for all the support.

Masterlist

Chapter 4

It’s been weeks since our last encounter. After concluding our agreement I started training with Namora and sometimes even with Attuma. I always found it easier to knock him off his feet compared to her. She was fast and agile and so was he but the size difference made him the easier target. My skills developed far more quickly than ever before with the intense training. Though I'd hate to admit it to Namora, constantly getting beat down by her must have forced my power to align with my intentions. She was a great but strict teacher and I would be lying if I said I wasn't intimidated by her. Izel was present during most of my training hours, translating orders and feedback. Zyanya however usually left when it started, I don’t blame her, it was long hours and since her bump started showing, I have accepted that I might not see her after a few weeks. She has spoken to me and Izel about baby names but is still unsure what to choose. I’ve grown fond of her and Izel, I would even go as far as considering them as friends though I don't if they think the same of me.

The air was cold against my skin whiles I walked through the cave's interior. Occasionally I would stumble upon a guard and they would give me a knowing nod. This became a routine whenever I was plagued by thoughts and as a result, couldn't sleep. Everything came at night or at least I thought of it as night. Time seems to move differently here. Without clocks or the sun, I can never be sure how many days it's been. I miss the sun, the moon, the sand but I am glad I have the sea. I miss my friends and I miss Adeoye's concerned face. He would flip if he saw where I was and what I was doing. I wonder if they're looking for me or maybe they don't know that I'm missing. I hope that when the time comes I can save them.

After walking aimlessly for a while I found myself near his cabin. This wasn't my intention but I did want to see him. I wanted to ask about that night but I don't think it would be wise. What would I say? Why did you try to kiss me? Why did you stop? Even if we had kissed, what would that make me the woman who got kidnapped by a perceived god, trained to be his weapon and his side piece? It would be ridiculous to think he was interested in anything else but my power.

For all, I know this could be a manipulative tactic to keep me in line. A tactic that I am far too willing to fall for. I moved closer to the small abode; stopping at the entrance. I hesitated for a moment. I reached out and knocked on the wood near the curtain. There was no response. Nervously I gave a little "Hello?". Still no answer. I peeked past the curtain and found the cabin to be empty. I slowly walked in. Where is he? Maybe he only comes here from time to time. I guess this cabin is a bit too cozy for the ruler of Talokan. I looked over his desk and saw brown stacks of paper with some kind of writing on them. I really need to learn Yucatec Mayan. I'm sure Izel would tutor if I asked. I strolled around the room until I saw the bed and instinctively decided to sit on it. It felt so illegal, so wrong but I miss him. I just sat there looking at the room until I heard voices outside the cabin, out of panic I decided to hide underneath the bed. Not long after I saw two pairs of feet and realized it was Namora talking to him. From what I could make out from the tone of their voices they were discussing something important. Honestly, I couldn't care less because if any of them find me here I will never be able to live it down this is beyond embarrassing not to mention I'm trespassing. When Namora left the room, Ku'kulkan decided to sit by the table. I heard him sigh and then say:

"You can come out now"

A part of me didn't want to, I'd rather bury myself under this bed than face him like this but I knew that he would drag me out if I didn't, so I did. When I got up I was greeted by the man I was so desperate to see, sitting widespread with a cheeky smile on his face. He was making fun of me.

"I must admit I was surprised to find you here. I thought that a woman of science would be smarter than to enter a home uninvited."

"I didn't mean to. I just..." I stopped myself before I could admit it. My heartbeat quickened. This was a bad idea. He stood up from his chair and walked up to me. "You just what?" He looked at me with want for what, I did not know. I could feel his breath on my skin and smelled the dried saltwater on his. "I just...wanted to..." He moved his face toward mine etching ever so closely "what's wrong? Do make you nervous y/n?" I nodded fearing my voice would crack if I spoke. I moved back, stumbling on the bed as he followed. "Do you want me?" He asked. I suddenly felt like everything was too much. The room was too warm, the air too thick and he was too far away whiles simultaneously being too close. But I wanted him closer. "yes," I said in a whisper, and with that our lips met.

It was slow at first, we moved in sync with each other, and his hand began to touch my waist moving up to my chest and I his. But then he became hungry for more, he discarded my dress and started kissing my neck harshly. I could help but moan egging him he started making his way down past my chest to my already-soaked core. He parted my legs wide, seeing everything. It made me twitch with anticipation. He pushed my legs back onto my folding me slightly like a sandwich. He licked softly, slowly, and then began to increase the pace. His necklaces would graze past my thighs whiles he ate me out with precision and grace. It did not take long before I felt my orgasm approaching. I was a moaning mess wet mess beneath him and he made sure to keep eye contact which only increased the ecstasy of my experience. "I'm close" I whispered like a plea. "Don't stop"

He gave no indication that he heard nor cared for what I was saying and right when I was about to reach my peaked I realized why. He stopped and I almost cried at the sudden withdrawal. I looked at him with confusion and after a second he started his advancements again. And this became his procedure for the next hour. The ebb and flow of pleasure and denial. I was begging and crying for a release, saying I would do anything he wanted but he gave no response other than small sushes and "you can take it". I couldn't think of anything other than his tongue lapping and sucking my clit. The way his hand held my thighs up and gripped at my skin. All I knew was him and everything I worried about and everything I was didn't matter. In this moment all that mattered was him.

Suddenly he stopped and kissed my cheek before taking off his shorts and neckpieces. He moved back on top of me, kissing me as he aligned his tip before slowly pushing it in. The stretch was cathartic. My overstimulated core felt everything to the max. Like everything else, he started off slow before increasing to the most delicious pace. It did not take much for me to etch closer and closer to the edge hoping that he would let me cum. I said his name over and over again praying for him fuck me harder. The room was filled with the filthy sound of our skin slapping against each other as he granted my every wish. In my haze, I could see how my juices were all over his mouth and neck, I could see the sweat on his forehead making his hair adhere to his skin. I could hear the grunts and thinness of his breath and I knew he was close too. He pounded relentlessly as I felt the familiar electricity of my climax flush over me. He continued without missing a beat for a few moments more, leaving me crying from overstimulation, before he finished inside of me. He kissed me again between beaten breaths before I let my exhaustion take over.

#namor x y/n #tenoch huerta namor #tenoch huerta #tenoch huerta smut #tenoch huerta x reader #kukulcan #ku'kulkhan mcu x reader #mcu namor #namor x you #namor smut #namor fanfiction

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redskull199987 · 2 years ago

Note

Hey

Can you do a ragnar x reader x lagertha where she refuses their proposal to be with them bcs she thinks they are caos ( they are tbh)

Thank you

I absolutely love this one, it was so much fun to write. It's a little bit short though, I hope you don't mind:)

I walk alone

Ragnar x Lagertha x female!reader Request

Word count:0.7k

Warnings:none

Summary:Ragnar and Lagertha keep nagging you about marrying them, but even though you're in love with them, a marriage is something that you didn't even consider so far...

Masterlist

"We won't ask you again, Y/N", Lagertha mumbled. I felt how she traced the features of my face with her delicate fingers. Nevertheless, my eyes remained shut. I was not giving in.

"She's right", Ragnar agreed and I felt how his cold hands gripped my hips, pulling me closer to him.

"You guys are annoying", I answered and finally opened my eyes, "This question is getting tiring"

"What do you mean?", Lagertha asked, Irritationen in her voice.

I sighed and slowly started to get up, trying to get out of their embrace.

"It means, I won't marry you", I said, giving her a calming smile.

"Don't take it too personal", I explained while starting to get dressed.

"What do you mean, don't take it too personal?", Ragnar wondered. He sat up now too, eyeing my every movement.

I watched, as Lagertha propped herself up next to him, leaning on his shoulder, while Ragnar kissed her temple softly.

I smiled at the two. They were truly made for each other.

Only recently, I had joined their relationship and to say it was awesome, was an understatement. But still, I couldn't bring myself to agree to marry them. Not only were they already happy before me, but they were also absolute chaos. I have no idea, how these two survived so far. Whenever I joined them for literally anything, something went wrong. It was disastrous. If they didn't have each other, one of them would've died at least once by now.

I had no idea if it was because of me or if they were like this on their own too, but the chaos sometimes was too much for me to handle.

And of course, I loved them. I loved being together with them, spending time with them, but marrying them? That is something that never really fitted into my head.

"I will see you later.", I explained, as I kissed them goodbye. Ragnar only nodded, while Lagertha tried to pull me back into bed, but I managed to escape eventually.

"Lagertha, you know I have to help my brother with his shop."

"Oh he can build his boats alone." Ragnar mumbled. I playfully punched his arm.

"Don't talk about your best friend like that!",I scolded them.

"But it's true.", He laughed and layed back down, "Floki is the best boat builder in the nine realms."

"Well, maybe I just like seeing my brother.",I smiled, as I turned around to leave.

"See you later, you two. I love you.", I shouted as I stepped out of the door.

"We love you too, Y/N!", I heard the laughting, as I left their home.

I was making my way over the market of Kattegat, in search of my Brother Floki. But it seemed like he was still at his house, a little bit away from the town.

"Y/N"

I turned around, as I watched Bjorn jogging towards me. I smiled at the young boy and greeted him.

"Hello Bjorn.", I smiled, "How are you doing?"

"Oh, I'm fine.",He said and looked at me,"Have you said yes by now?"

"Oh you too now", I sighed, "Why is everybody asking me that today?"

Bjorn smiled at me Apologetic:"Sorry. It's just... I really want to know."

"I didn't say yes so far.", I informed him, "And I won't say yes."

"Why not?", he asked perplexed.

"So, you approve?", I grinned.

"Honestly, my parents are absolute chaos, you're making them a lot more bearable.", he explained.

I chuckled at his words:"Well, thank you. But I still won't marry them."

"Huh",Bjorn huffed, "Its your choice after all. But you won't leave them, right?"

"Gods, no!", I said, "I love them too much for that, I just won't marry them."

"well that's fine by me.", Bjorn said and patted my shoulder,"I'll see you later."

"Yeah, bye", I smiled and watched as he made his way back to the Market.

I was walking alone again. I guess I would be doing that 'till eternity.

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thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai · 27 days ago

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I'll start off by saying that your YOI meta posts are really wonderful and are the reason I began following you. They are super detailed, and I'm consistently impressed by your conclusions. It's obvious you put a lot of thought into them, and I've learned a ton from you.

At the same time, I wanted to mention something I've recently observed in light of the poll you made around why your followers are following you. I know I haven't done anything to prove that what I'm saying is worth considering, so if your reaction to this is "well, what the hell do they know?!", no hard feelings whatsoever.

In a few of your more recent posts, I've seen you share a frustration that academic canon-compliant analysis is nonexistent in the fandom. Or, that interest in it seems to be low, which is very valid. However, the way it comes across in tone is a bit off-putting, and might be getting in the way of your goals when you say you'd like to achieve stronger engagement/a sense of community.

In your effort to articulate to your followers that canon is your prime directive, it can sometimes read like you think that anything that doesn't adhere to that standard (i.e. anything short of an exhaustive canon analysis or a product of comprehensive analysis) doesn't have a place in the Yuri!!! on Ice fandom. If the majority of your followers don't regard canon in the same way (i.e. as their highest priority), it could be that they might feel judged when seeing you use terms like "vibes" or "speculation" for what you perceive as popular content.

Which leads me to highlight an important distinction.

A lot of people, myself included, believe canon compliant simply means "the things contained in this analysis or fic do not directly contradict canon". Not, "the things contained in this analysis or fic are directly supported by evidence from canon or logically extend from canon or other source material (like interviews with the creators and that sort of thing)."

...two very different things, and perhaps your desire for people to more clearly articulate which definition they ascribe to is one part of the solution. I strongly suspect that when other fans posit or believe their headcanons/metas/fics to be canon-compliant, the vast majority are using the former definition (especially since there is a lot that canon YOI never addresses and for which drawing any one “most logical” conclusion is impossible with the lack of subtext or backstory).

Even though I consider myself to be more invested than just a casual YOI fan, I definitely have not waded through the most salient interviews with the creators or even read a ton of metas to form my particular headcanons. But more importantly, I don't think that should be the bar to engage or have my thoughts considered worthy contributions. All this is to say, if there is someone else out there that enjoys looking deeply into canon but they are wondering if their version of "academic" investigation holds muster when compared to yours, they may feel reluctant to reach out and engage with you, for fear of "doing things wrong" in your eyes.

It's obviously fine to have high standards, but I also think that fandom can be escapism...meaning, that if people feel that someone is being overly didactic it can be intimidating, because no one wants to feel/be told that they are "doing" fandom wrong. Especially when this is a passion project for many.

And lastly, to that point, I'm not saying you're "doing" it wrong either...I'm just offering the point that your engagement may suffer if, regardless of intent, your followers have come to believe that you think that being part of fandom needs to meet a standard of rigor to count as a real contribution. Just something to think about...of course it's your blog so, ultimately, you should write whatever the hell you want and strike whatever tone you'd like!

Hi anon, thanks for your message!

The "prime directive" is a term from the Star Trek fandom. It's a guiding principle that prohibits the members of Starfleet from interfering with the development of foreign civilisation. I've found it to be a quite accurate description of what I do in my writing: only write what is directly supported by evidence or, where that's impossible, a logical extension of the source material. I've coined this term for my own analysis and writing, not to tell other fans how to engange with the source material or to tell them that they're doing fandom wrong or have no place in this fandom. To be honest, I find the thought that it comes across like that disturbing.

So, I would like to know, dear anon, what exactly gave you that impression? And what exactly gave you the impression that this is the level I want people to engage with my posts at?

Apparently, fandom is escapism and make-believe for a lot of people, which is something I don't get because I'm the type who just LOVES to analyse the things they obsess over deeply. I, personally, am not satisfied otherwise. Again, before anyone reading this twists my words to turn me into a villain: I'm not telling people how to be fans or on what level to engage with the thing they're a fan of. It just something that I like to do.

However, by saying I'm not intersted in engaging in certain kind of posts, I'm not detailing out any rules for interacting with my posts. It just means that I don't want to interact with any kind of analysis that misses important core elements that are crucial for the analysis to be coherent and sound. It would put me into an awkward situation because don't want to tell the op that their conclusions are wrong, and I don't want to feign agreement, either. Again, I'm not telling people how to be fans.

So why am I so frustrated then? The popularity of these posts makes me wonder why I keep putting so much effort into my analyses since almost no one cares about them. On an emotional level, it conveys a strong sense of being not wanted in this fandom and that if I stop posting, it wouldn't be a loss, because I'm just too different from the rest.

I agree that there should be different terms for "this thing doesn't directly contradict canon" and "this thing is directly supported by evidence from canon / logically extend from canon" because it DOES make a difference (I often use the term "canon-compatible", but it's not that different from the term "canon-compliant", I have yet to find something more fitting, for my metas I now uses "analysis"). For my writing and my canon analyses, I operate on the level of the latter whenever I can. Otherwise, I would feel as if I was being sloppy, and I can't have sloppiness in my reasoning. I've worked in academics for a couple of years and together with my love for literary analysis, it had a huge impact on how I approach any piece of media because it resonates with my inner nerd. But that also makes it impossible for me to not spot the errors in someone else's reasoning. I've decided that it's healthier for me to give such takes a wide berth.

Anyway, thank you for your honest words. I understand much better now why I've never felt welcome in the YOI fandom, although I still don't have any clue how to change that.

#anon asks

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navybrat817 · 5 months ago

Note

I hope this isn't offensive or comes off bad because I don't mean it that way, but is there a reason you don't write many stories with kids? I know you're a mom and just wondered!

First, nonnie, I just want to assure you that I'm not offended by this ask. ❤️

Second, there are many reasons why some of my stories may not have kids. Some may not fit the tone of having children or the motivation of the characters are to not have kids. Not every couple has to have them. That's more than okay!

I have The Dad Diaries, which has Bucky with a kid. Lumberjack!Steve and Woodworker!Bucky have had little snippets with their babies, Peanut and Jellybean. I've also discussed CEO!Bucky having twins and I ADORE the thought of him with Bean and Cupcake. It warms my heart!

And here's me being transparent, I sometimes feel like I get more excited myself at the thought of sharing more stuff with kids than I imagine people would want to read about them. I don't put stock in note count because that doesn't do me any good and isn't a reflection of my writing abilities, but it can be disheartening when you share something you're REALLY excited about and you get crickets in return. But that's a ME thing and I'm most likely overthinking.

Mom or not, I'm happy to write more stories that feature kids and I'm also happy to do stories that focus solely on the reader and their fictional boyfriend/husband. It's all nonsense here anyway. Whatever it is, I hope you lovelies enjoy!

Love and thanks. ❤️

#navybrat answers #blog ask #writer ask #personal #fanfiction #sweet nonnie #sending love ❤️#asks are always appreciated

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seangelfish · 1 year ago

Note

Hi there!! I really like your Hypmic fics so far, they're truly amazing!!

So uhm.. can i request a headcanon for samatoki with a younger sister??

She's like in high school and has a little anxiety or depression.

You can add a little, short scenario at the end if you can! Thank you?

Thank you so much! I’m so excited to write more Hypmic fics!! o(≧▽≦)o I like this request a lot, and I love the Aohitsugi siblings. However, there might be some angst here because I actually want this to be realistic if he were to have an even younger sister. Tbh, I wasn't really sure how to write this, but I hope you enjoy reading anyway! ♡

Samatoki Aohitsugi w/ a younger sister

Genres/types: Headcanons (a bit of angst, fluff)

Word count: 1,810

Plot/summary: You’re Samatoki’s youngest sister, age 15/16, who still attends high school. Because of your brother’s line of work, you barely see him, resulting in neglect; and because of your older sister’s disappearance, you’ve developed depression. Being in this family pains you, but Samatoki tries to make it up to you.

UPDATE: Rewrote some stuff. I felt like I wrote this too much like a story than actual headcanons, sorry!

— You're his youngest sister, his only family left. The day Nemu went missing, he became even more protective of you. Because he's an infamous yakuza and leader of MAD TRIGGER CREW, he does his best to keep you hidden. He doesn't want to take the risk of having any of his enemies find out about your existence.

— As a result, you barely see him. Sure, he calls and texts you everyday and sends you money to take care of yourself, but it's just not the same. You used to share this apartment with Nemu, but she's no longer here with you anymore, so it feels even more lonely.

— Everyday is the same. He texts you good morning if he's too busy to call. You eat breakfast by yourself. You walk yourself to school. When the school day is over, you return home to be greeted by silence. You cook dinner for yourself, knowing that there's no one to share it with. Then Samatoki would call you to ask you how you are, to wish you goodnight.

— Some nights, you'd cry yourself to sleep. By time, you've developed depression. Living like this took a huge toll on you. Sometimes you'd stay outside late, worrying your older brother when you won't pick up his calls. You don't do much outside anyway. You just sit by the river, taking in the fresh air.

— Samatoki is always thinking of you though. He wonders what you’re doing, whether you’re holding up. He always looks forward to calling you. He loves listening to your voice.

— But every second of the day, your mind would flashback to the time when the three of you Aohitsugi siblings were together, when Samatoki would ruffle your hair, when Nemu would hug you. You missed those times so much.

— So you looked forward to your brother's calls too. He'd call you at exactly 8 in the morning and at night. You'd sit by your phone waiting for it to ring.

"Hey, (Y/N). How are you doing? How's school today? Are you eating well?"

"Yes, I'm fine, nii-chan. I've cooked myself tonkatsu for dinner today."

"Haha, that's good. As long as it isn't instant noodles. Ah, I wish I could eat dinner with you."

You were silent for a while before saying, "Then eat dinner with me."

"(Y/N), you know I can't—"

"Nii-chan, I can't stand this anymore!" you cry. "I miss you so much. I miss nee-chan too. It's so lonely here... I just want to eat breakfast with you, I want you to greet me when I come home from school, and I want us to cook dinner together! Why can't I just have a normal life with you? I understand why you've made your choices, but I hate how it has come to this."

Samatoki flinches at your words because he understands how you're feeling, but because of his line of work, he just can't be there for you physically.

"(Y/N), I'm sorry... there's nothing that I can do," he says softly.

"...I know."

— But he also knows that he can't just leave you alone like that. He's been having these thoughts linger in the back of his mind for weeks, months even. It was fine leaving you alone before since you had Nemu with you, but Samatoki knows he can't leave you stranded for any longer. To make matters worse, he knows you have depression, so he tries his best to supply you with the best medication and calls you everyday, facetimes you when he isn't busy too.

— After that interaction with your brother, you've stopped picking up his calls on time. This worries him a lot. He knows that you've been doing this before, but he's even more anxious now that you've poured your heart out to him. You haven't picked up your phone for what seems to be ten minutes, but he's already running around Yokohama trying to find you.

"(Y/N)!" he yells.

"Nii-chan...?" you say, looking up at the tall figure from the bottom of the hill.

Samatoki is relieved to see that you're okay. He runs down the hill and embraces you into a tight hug. You return the hug without hesitation as he strokes your hair gently.

"Stop wondering around at night," he hisses. "I was so worried."

You bury your head in his chest. "Sorry" was the only word you could say.

He shakes his head. "No, I should be sorry... I was trying to protect you, but I never really thought about how this would impact you. I wish Nemu was here... she'd know what to do."

"Mhm, I wish that too."

He sighs, still embracing you, never wanting to let you go. Despite the fact you were 15/16, he still thought of you as the child he had to spoon-feed, the child he had to put into bed. In his eyes, you were still that little kid that would pester him to read you your favourite bedtime story.

"(Y/N), I can't live with you the way we both want to," he states. "But I will try to visit you more often. I promise you."

You're not sure how he's going to do that, but he never breaks his promises, so you agree.

— The next time you leave school, he's there waiting outside the gates for you. You didn't recognise that it was him at first due to the stupid disguise he decided to wear, but you were happy to see him nevertheless.

"Nii-chan!" you exclaim, jumping into his arms. "You're here!"

"Yep, I'm here," he says, hugging you back.

— So, that's his plan. From then on, Samatoki hangs out with you in his disguise. He still can't live with you in your apartment as he doesn't want to take the risk, but he's willing to make up for all the lost time by taking you to eat breakfast outside, by picking you up after school, and when he is feeling a little bit risky, he just MIGHT join you for dinner.

"Nii-chan, this is how you cut carrots. Watch carefully, okay?"

"Yes, sensei!"

The two of you prepare the table with the food you have cooked together. You say your thanks before digging in.

"This looks good," Samatoki compliments, pinching your cheek playfully. "You really do know how to cook."

"You should give yourself credit, nii-chan. You helped too!"

He laughs and you follow suit. It's nice to finally eat dinner with him under the same roof. Even if you only have this hour with him, it really feels like you're living a normal life for once.

— He notices how you're a lot happier these days, and this makes him happy too.

– He cares more about your depression than you do. Of course, you were taking care of yourself more than before, but he is frantic about your wellbeing.

"You're taking your meds everyday, right?" he asks. "Make sure you don't miss a day."

"Nii-chan, you're always reminding me anyway," you say. "I'm taking them, don't worry."

– He's surprisingly affectionate, not only with his words, but with his actions too. He likes wrapping his arm around you and ruffling your hair. Nowadays, you see him twice or thrice a week, so he'd hug you during those times too. He never misses an opportunity to kiss your forehead either. You were his dear sister that he loves.

"I love you."

"I love you too, nii-chan."

— He's always so busy leading his subordinates and taking care of Yokohama, but he always looks forward to spending his time with you.

– Since he is able to see you more often nowadays, he's always trying to find a gift for you. He knows you so well that he ends up getting you something you really like.

– Morning and nighttime calls have improved since then too. He'd talk about what he has done with the other members of MTC like how Rio keeps offering him his cooked food. You'd laugh at his stories for which he enjoys your laugher.

– For nighttime calls, he'd stay on the line until you fall asleep. He just wants you to actually go to bed on time.

– Yet when you do hang out in person, he'd take you shopping and you'd eat out together too. You'd force him to try out the family activities Yokohama has to offer. He has to admit that it was pretty fun.

– Whenever he's with you, all he wants to do is spoil you, and because of his status, he is able to do so. He'll give you anything you ask for, no questions asked.

– Because of your age, you don't want to hold hands with him, but he kind of wishes that you did. He reminisces the days when he'd hold your hand when you were younger alongside Nemu too.

— He only wants to see you smile, to be truly happy. He promises you that he'll find Nemu, and that he'll continue to give you the best life he could never have. This time, he'll be there for you in the flesh, to wipe away your tears, to hold you like he used to when you were just a kid.

— Because you're his youngest sister, his only family left after all.

[Extra]

You woke up to the doorbell ringing. As you approached the front door, you checked the peep hole to see who it was. It was the delivery man. You opened the door for him and you were suddenly presented a big bouquet of flowers.

"Order for (Y/N) Aohitsugi," the delivery man states.

"Yes, that's me," you say, astonished at how big the bouquet was.

He hands it over to you, wishing you a good day before taking his leave. You stand there for a while, speechless. You were brought back into reality when your phone began ringing.

Closing the door, you brought the flowers into the kitchen where you placed them on the table. Before you picked up the phone, you caught a glimpse of a card attached to the flowers' stems, it read:

'Happy birthday, (Y/N).

Love, your big brother, Samatoki.'

You beamed happily. So, these were from Samatoki! Of course they were! You were so infatuated with the flowers he had gotten you, you had forgotten to pick up the phone.

"Sorry, nii-chan! I just got your flowers. They're so pretty. Thank you so much!"

"Haha, I'm glad you like them," he says, and you could even hear the smile he has on his face. "Happy birthday, (Y/N). You're 17 now, right? You're growing up so fast, you better calm down."

You laugh at this, and so does he.

"I love you," he continues. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Yes, nii-chan. I can't wait to see you today!"

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