#and this was a bid from the new friends! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

readwritealldayallnight · 1 month ago

Text

(part of the ‘Wife at First Sight’ series)

The newlyweds hold each other close, bodies swaying in time with the music that plays through rented speakers in the dance hall, their loved ones gathered around to watch their first dance.

Every guest in attendance is sporting a smile as they gaze upon the happy couple, some even have tears brimming close to their lash lines, threatening to spill over. There is no doubt that today is a day every in attendance will remember for a long time.

You and Simon however…

Well, the two of you are happy for the newlyweds, of course, no doubt about it. You’re very grateful that your sister included you in her wedding party. But when one of Simon’s large hands happened to slip into yours when the DJ asked everyone to gather around the dance floor to watch the couple’s first dance, he hardly had to give you much of a tug to steer you towards one of the darker corners of the decorated space.

Turning to face you, he offered you his extended hand along with a raised brow in question. Slipping your smaller hand into his bare palm, both of you pointedly ignoring the spark that shot through your nerves at the slight touch, you allow him to hesitantly pull you closer and closer, until there isn’t any air left between your bodies, your figures moulding together as though you were simply chunks of clay on a pottery wheel, two separate pieces becoming one.

Instinctually, as though the two of you have held each other like this countless times beforehand, your arms snake around his neck while his large palms come to land on the small of your waist, the room too dark for you to see how his hands hold the slightest tremble to them

Simon can’t recall if his hands have ever shaken while on duty, and if they have, it was in the very early days of his career, too long ago to even be remembered. His confidence in himself and his abilities too strong to allow for any nerves to seep through and put a tremble in his steady hands. With you however…

When it comes to you, Simon finds himself in uncharted territory, in unfamiliar waters. He doesn’t have anyone on comms to tell him how to do this, no briefing to go over the plan, no Captain giving him orders he can follow to a T like the good soldier he is. For someone who had become so used to working solo for years, he’s finding himself at a constant loss when it comes to pulling the trigger with you.

But now, with your smaller body held so gently but firmly in his strong arms as you sway together to the melody, no one else aware to the private moment you two are having in the shadows, he can’t imagine going on any longer without this being his reality. No more pretending, no more charades, he wanted the real thing. And that alone terrified him more than any RPG or close combat fight ever had.

As the night wraps up, Simon hangs back and watches you hug your sister and new brother in law, watches you bid your goodbyes to fellow friends and family members, watches you fetch a coat for an older aunt who’d misplaced it, watches you ruffle your young nephew’s hair as he sleeps on his mothers shoulder, watches you spin and stroll and saunter about the space leaving everyone you interact with wearing a smile, all while he thinks to himself, wife wife wife wife wife wi-

My wife

If you would have asked him, he planned on blaming the slight breeze outside during your walk from the venue back to the car, as to why he removed his blazer and draped it over your shoulders. But like everything else that happened between the two of you, you didn’t question it, instead choosing to enjoy the warmth that the jacket emanated, along with the lingering smell of Ghost clinging to the fabric

Nor did you have anything to say when you felt his pinky finger brush yours once, twice, three times before he was threading his thick, calloused fingers together with your softer ones, each of you silently relishing in the others touch

As he did every time the two of you happened to drive together, he opened your door for you, still holding onto your palm as he helped you in. Tonight however, unlike any other time, instead of shutting the door and coming around to the drivers side right away, Simon instead grabbed ahold of the seatbelt before you had a chance to, slowly reaching over you to buckle you in, your cheeks warming at the gesture

The drive back to base was quieter than usual. Already known for being a man of few words, you had grown accustomed to the way you apparently brought the fearsome Lieutenant out of his shell for you and you only. You occasionally filled the otherwise comfortable silence with comments about the wedding, remarks about the decor, complaints about the music choice, joking about how much fun you’d had introducing everyone to your husband, all while he sat quietly in the drivers seat

Though his ever stoic expression did not betray his inner thoughts, his mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out how to open his mouth and just say what he wants to say. He remembers learning somewhere that car rides are often a useful environment for having difficult conversations, as it is easier to talk and let things out without having the pressure of someone watching you, and you looking back at them.

He has to do it. He will do it. If he doesn’t do it now, when else will he ever work up the courage to say what he’s been feeling since the very second he laid eyes on you and knew who you would be to him

“-honestly though, I don’t think anyone was expecting my uncle to start dancing like th-”

“Love, can I-” Simon interrupts you, his hands tightening around the steering wheel as he takes a steadying inhale and braces himself. You glance at him for a moment, not minding that he’s cut you off, as you’d been wondering what was going on in that head of his, almost able to hear the gears turning in his brain as he drove. “I need to say somethin’.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t-” He can’t help but take another deep breath, unsure of how to go about this. “I don’t know how to-”

This time, it’s you who cuts him off, when you shift in your seat and reach a delicate hand out to rest on his bicep, offering the slightest squeeze of reassurance. He takes his eyes off the road just long enough to glance down at where your hand lays on his muscle, feeling as if his he’s been shocked where you touch him, even with the clothing separating your skin from his, the simple gesture giving him just enough confidence to say what he needs you to hear

“I don’t have much to offer you, love.” He begins by saying, his death grip on the steering wheel loosening more and more every second he feels the weight of your hand still resting on him, letting him know you’re there. “My job- it’s dangerous. I know you know that, but I haven’t a family member left alive because o’ what I do. I haven’t a single friend outside o’ my own bloody task force. I’ve got a small flat in the city I only see maybe five times out o’ the year. I don’t- I don’t have much, love.”

Simon takes another breath, grounding himself as he feels your thumb stroking his arm through the fabric of his button-up, still listening to him, still here with him.

“But if I had you, swee’heart. If I really had you, had you as my wife,” he has to stop to clear this throat, his emotions seeping through into his words. “If I had you as my wife, I’d have the whole world. That’s all I want. All I need.”

It’s your turn to stew in silence for what in actuality is only a few moments, but for Simon it feels like an eternity and a half, every possible worst case scenario he’d ever thought up flashing through his mind with every passing second you don’t say anything.

“Wait,” you finally reply, the storm in his head halting at the sound of your voice. “Simon, do you- are you- are you saying you like me???”

That… that was not what Simon was expecting you to have to say after all that

“Er- yes.”

“Simon!” You squeal, the gentle hand on his arm now swatting at him repeatedly. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?! I had no idea!”

Were it anyone else, Simon would be downright bewildered with how truly and utterly blind you’ve been these past few months, only now putting two and two together as to his true feelings for you. But because it is you, he can’t help the light chuckle that slips free from between his lips

“You know what, you’re right lovie. I should’ve been more clear.” He says, only half-joking.

“But wait, I- I don’t understand. You- isn’t there someone else? I mean- I helped you pick a ring for someone-”

You watch as Simon readjusts his grip on the steering wheel so that he’s driving with one hand, the other reaching across to the glove compartment in front of you, pulling it open to reveal nothing out of the ordinary; the car’s starter manual, a flashlight, an extra pair of gloves, a ring bo-

A ring box

But not just any ring box

You know it as soon as your eyes land on it, and you can’t help the gasp that comes out of you, even this late at night in the darkness of the car with shadows whooshing past constantly, you recognize that box right away

You helped pick it out after all

“It’s your ring, love.” You hear Simon whisper, his outstretched hand hesitantly reaching out to smooth over your knee, recognizing that things are starting to make sense to you after all this time. “It could only ever be for you. There is only you.”

Your trembling fingers pull the box from its hiding spot, bringing it to rest in your palms on your lap, cradling it as though it were the most precious thing you ever held

You don’t realize that Simon is pulling the car over to rest on the curb, until you feel the parking brakes being put on, your eyes finally glancing up to meet his own steady gaze. Gaze locked with yours, he slowly reaches out to pluck the box from your hands, tilting the top open to reveal the very same piece of jewelry you’d unknowingly chosen for yourself. But your eyes never drift down to catch the diamond sparkling in the light, instead staying directly on his, something much more precious and priceless unfolding between the two of you

You’ve known Simon for months now, have spent countless hours talking, laughing, getting to know each other more deeply than anyone else has known you in years. In all that time, never once did you question his mask, nor did you ever ask to see what was underneath, respecting that it was part of what made him him

Now however, your eyes widen as you watch his fingers slip beneath the ear loops of his simple black medical mask, before he slowly brings it down, revealing a scarred, pale, vulnerable, and handsome face beneath

The gesture is not lost on you; Simon is truly baring himself completely to you, no more hiding behind jokes or masks or anything

“Love,” he begins, clearing his throat once more before he asks the most important question of his life. “Would you make me the happiest man alive and marry m-”

You’ve cut him off again

But not with your words, nor your reassuring touch

No, this time you cut him off by reaching forward to grasp the collar of his shirt and pulling him towards you, lips meeting in a passionate crash that feels as though time has stopped and the earth stands still, a feeling that leaves you certain that no one else on the surface of the earth has ever felt something as deeply, as world shattering as this

You’re finally kissing Simon

Simon is finally kissing you

Pulling back for air, you don’t dare go any farther than where you can lean your forehead against his, each of you panting, with grins stretching across your kiss-swollen lips

“Take that as a yes.”

“Oh my gosh,” You laugh along with him, your shared breaths warming the others reddening faces. “Just wait until we tell everyone!”

Simon isn’t sure how to break it to you, that you might just in fact be the last person to find out about this

If you’ve made it this far into the series, I wanted to say thank you so so so much for reading and thank you for your patience between uploads!!!

This will not be the last part to Wife at First Sight- I’m hoping to make one last NSFW part to wrap it all up, but I wanted it to be separate from this upload in case anyone wasn’t wanting to read the 18+

- M 🫶🏻

2K notes · View notes

ma7moudgaza2 · 14 days ago

Text

How did we cope with hunger in Gaza and not perish until now?

It’s a very strange topic to discuss in the twenty-first century.

Since the Israeli military war began, a more brutal war has been waged alongside it: the war for food.

I don’t know where to start, as I really don’t want to remember anything that happened to us, but it’s necessary to talk about it to benefit from our experience, may God spare you from similar situations.

As men, we are the first line of defense in our family army against the aggression of the hunger war.

The first situation I suffered from was five months into the war. It was a critical time when we had been without food or flour for nearly a month. We were living off what remained of our bodies' fat, some barley, and animal food.

It was a very cold night. Finally, we received a food ration from a charity, which was a bag of flour.

My family rejoiced and prayed, but I sat lamenting my fate. I saw how these rations were distributed; it was extremely chaotic. The queue, oh the queue! I swear the line stretched over 3 kilometers of people.

My turn was scheduled for nine o'clock the next morning. You can imagine that I had to leave at sunset that day to spend the night on the street to secure a place in the queue, otherwise, I wouldn’t receive anything.

I was overwhelmed by three pains:

The hell of children's hunger.

The hell of the queue and the cold.

And the hell of war.

By the way, the military war is nothing compared to what I mentioned above.

I indeed burdened myself with clothes, took my mattress to sleep on, and carried the water bottle for which I had stood in another queue to obtain.

I bid farewell to my family and left. I am Mahmoud, a computer engineer with soft skin. Imagine, my dear, imagine the fear that overwhelmed me.

I truly did not sleep and sat waiting for my turn until it finally came, and I received my ration. It was the most exhausting day of my life, but it became bearable when I returned to my family and found them eating.

My mother suggested a way to eat. Each of us would only get one loaf of bread throughout the day. She said: "Eat half of the meal you usually eat over a longer period. If you eat half a loaf for breakfast in 10 minutes, eat a quarter of a loaf in half an hour. The effect will be as if you ate half a loaf."

Indeed, the method was very, very effective.

The question for you:

What were you doing while people in Gaza were dying of hunger?

I have a donation campaign for my family if you are interested in helping your friend from Gaza. 👇

@hyperions-fate @nabulsi @khizuo @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @schoolhater

@werewolf-transgenderism @breadmp3 @sawasawako @cigaretteaunt @tartrazeen

@silicacid @audrey-hepbae @cryptarchs-qualm @hussyknee @ana-bananya

@doorhine @chilewithcarnage @daloy-politsey @transmutationisms @toyttsumedinasyisroel

@ysali @lightinger @jihaad @neechees @time-being

@batmanisagatewaydrug @mahoushojoe @opencommunion @palistani @comintoyoulive

@sar-soor @coughloop @vakarians-babe @notchainedtotrauma @sabrsiren

@moqawama @junglejim4322 @niqabisinparis @communist-ojou-sama @ghostofanonpast

@pitbolshevik @capricornpropaganda @halalchampagnesocialist @sesamie @voidpumpkin

@sivavakkiyar @saharawitch @rhubarbspring @teabisexual @fusdoq

@dirhwangdaseul @gorgugplushie @genderkoolaid @opencommunion @nabulsi

@sawasawako @metanarrates @beserkerjewel @mar64ds @soon-palestine

#palestine #free palestine #signal boost #gazaunderattack

2K notes · View notes

jeonginsleftcheek · 2 months ago

Text

Dolly II

~ part 2 of the Dolly series

pairing: seungmin x afab!reader

genre: smut, college au

synopsis: your friends found it funny to buy you a sex doll and pose it in your bed to prank you.

wc: 7.7k

warnings: alcohol, thigh riding, handjob, cum tasting, unprotected sex, hand kink, nipple play, creampie, mentions of crying, choking, edging, spanking, hair pulling, pussy slap, oral(m), fingering

a/n: thank you @jehhskz for helping with the premise of this one🥹💕

~ maybe you'd like: Hyunjin dolly

~ divider by @bunnysrph

Another sleepless night.

Staring at your laptop screen, the letters start blurring and bleeding into one another, making the headache behind your eyes throb even more.

Exam after exam, you're becoming more jaded, feeling like you're high out of your mind when it's just lack of sleep.

As you scroll through a page you're researching for your paper, an advert pops out.

"Sex dolls?" you chuckle and click on it, even if it looks a bit shady.

You're taken to a stylish site, black background with big neon green letters asking you "What's your vibe for today?", and you scoff.

"Try dead inside." you say out loud and the letters flicker before disappearing, new text appearing on the screen, making you gasp.

"Feeling sarcastic, are we?" - it says and you shriek, quickly exiting the site and deleting the history.

How the fuck did it hear you?

Did they hack your laptop?

You hoped not, because being a broke student means you have no resources to buy a new one.

With a groan, you continue doing your assignments well into the late hours, forgetting completely about the sex dolls and the freaky website.

You fall asleep, excited about the party you were invited to this weekend, to finally have some way to blow off steam and relax.

The room is totally spinning.

You are totally spinning.

You can hear your friends laugh on your left but your tiredness coupled with the alcohol you had in your system made you feel drowsy.

You're not sure but it seems that your friends are pointing at you and whispering, giggles leaving their lips and you frown.

They're known for pulling pranks on you, and you'd hoped they would at least leave you be when you're intoxicated and vunerable.

"What?" you almost bark at them.

"Nothing." one of them says with a snicker.

"Ugh. I'm leaving." you stand up quickly, which was a mistake as all the blood rushes through your system and the room starts spinning faster.

Your friend and roommate Edie, is quick to grab you before you face plant into the coffee table.

"I'm coming with ya. Don't want you to break your bones somewhere on the way home." she shakes her head and you nod, bidding goodbye to your other friends and letting her lead you out.

The walk to your shared apartment is short, the house of the guy who hosted the party wasn't too far away from your building or the campus.

The chilly evening air helps you refresh your mind and sober up a little.

"Are you gonna eat dinner?" Edie asks when you step into the apartment.

"No, I think I'm just gonna go shower and sleep." you say and she nods.

Before you left the kitchen, you swore you could see her smirk a little.

Shrugging, you make your way to your room.

Edie stops what she was doing, setting the plate down as she listens.

One, two, three...

And you scream, followed by a few thuds and curses.

"What the fuck?!" you grab the nearest book but the man on your bed doesn't even move or blink.

Edie giggles behind you, before it bubbles up and becomes full on laughter.

"What is this?" you demand, already annoyed at her.

"That is Seungmin, your sex doll."

"My what?" you almost choke on your spit.

"We were gonna scare you and prank you with him but we thought he would also be a good early birthday present. Since you know, you only ever study and stay at the apartment. This way, you can have him as a companion." she explains, and you lower the book you were gonna hit her with.

"Please, don't be mad at us." she grimaces.

"Why does he look alive?" you look back at the doll, gulping as shivers run up your spine.

"I don't know, it's some new technology, I guess. Isn't it so cool though? There was a letter in the box he came in with. I put it there on the nightstand, together with the manual." Edie informs you.

"Y'all are crazy and he's creepy. But, thank you? It must've been expensive." you shake your head.

"Well, the six of us got some money together."

"Still, crazy." you chuckle and she laughs.

"I'll leave you to it." she wiggles her eyebrows, closing the door of your room as she makes her way back to the kitchen.

You bite on your lip, observing the doll as it stares off into space.

"You're too creepy and you're not watching me change." you mumble and grab your blanket, throwing it over the dolls head.

"There." you say and strip, loving the perk of this apartment as both you and Edie had your own bathroom attached to your room.

You go about your night routine, now almost completely sober as you make your way back to your room.

You almost forgot about the doll, your heart dropping in your stomach for a moment.

"Fuck." you chuckle at yourself, your hand on your chest.

Cautiously, you sit next to the doll and remove the blanket.

He looks the same as he did before, as your friends presumably set him up, propping him up on your pillows, his legs straight and his hands in his lap.

He was dressed kind of sporty but chic, with a plain white shirt, a blue jersey jacket and ripped jeans, a dainty silver necklace adorning his neck.

Simple, yet effective, the doll looked more handsome the more you looked at it.

His hair looked fluffy, his eyes seemed warm, his lips soft.

You especially liked his hands, delicate and tender.

He looked sweet, if he was a real human being you're 100% sure everyone would swoon for him on the campus and he'd probably be the it boy.

You wondered how he looked so real, it almost seemed as if he was going to wake up any second and start talking to you.

You sigh and grab the letter, opening it up.

Hello,

my name is Seungmin and I am your mischiveous doll.

I love making you laugh and teasing you, because nothing makes me as happy as seeing your smile or your cute face when you're annoyed.

Please, play with me a lot as I tend to get bored, and no matter what you do with me, always end it with a kiss on my forehead.

Hope you come to love me as much as I already love you.

"Oh, you're a little prankster doll, aren't you? How funny of my friends." you sigh with a smirk playing on your face.

"I swear if you fucking move, you're flying out the window." you threaten, convinced you could see a faint smirk on the doll's face.

A paper sticking out of his jersey pocket grabs your attention and you take it out.

My cutie!

I got dressed for our first date!

Hopefully you like the outfit I chose, and enjoy playing with me tonight.

"First date? Who the heck made this?" you're perplexed, when suddenly you remember the ad from the other day.

"Oh my god." you jump up quickly, running to your laptop and searching.

You don't have to search too long as the site pops up immediately and you click on it.

"Wow!" you gasp as you look at the selection of the dolls.

You had no idea each one was a unique model, and that only one of them was made for some kind of experiment with new technology.

You turn to look back at Seungmin and chuckle.

"Okay, I gotta give it to my friends. They did give me a unique gift." you sigh.

Reading back over the site, there isn't much information and as you research a little bit, you can't find out much about the company that made the dolls.

It was as if it appeared out of thin air with technology so advanced that it had you confused, who could've made this and how?

Maybe even more important, why?

After turning up with nothing, you decide to check out the manual.

WARNING!

If there are any malfunctions with any part of the doll, please contact our services.

The doll can bathe in water except the charger opening.

Please do not disfigure or mutilate the doll.

Do not throw the doll into the trash.

Do not break, cut or bruise the doll.

If you're not satisfied, you can always return it to us and get your money back.

If you've purchased our Seungmin doll, do not forget to play with him as he can get lonely and sad.

Hope you enjoy the playful soul you chose!

"Lonely and sad, huh?" you stare at the doll with pursed lips.

Turning a few pages, the doll's 'abilites' come into view and you feel your ears burning in embarassment before you close the book quickly, tossing it aside.

"My friends are a bunch of perverts." you chuckle, laying down next to the doll.

"You better keep your hands to yourself, doll." you slide under your blanket, all the tiredness from tonight finally catching up with you.

Seungmin sits quietly as you turn off the light.

Waking up the next morning with a yawn, you stretch and your hand smacks into something solid.

Gasping, you lift up and see the doll sitting quietly just like he did last night.

"I forgot about you." you exhale before plopping back down in your pillows.

Curiously, your eyes travel over the doll's frame.

It's dead quiet in the apartment, meaning that Edie probably already left for her classes and you sit up, turning your attention to Seungmin.

Tentatively, you reach out your hand and poke the doll's cheek.

"Oh, wow!" you exclaim, poking him again. "You feel real."

Slowly, your fingertips caress his cheek, before you start carding them through his hair.

"Honestly though, my friends do know my type. If you were a real guy, I would stare at you from the distance and wait for you to ask me out." you chuckle a little before shaking your head as you retract your hand.

"I'm talking to myself." you get up and decide to get ready for your classes, leaving the doll be.

You feel like you're being watched the whole time as you rush through your room to gather your things, and an uncomfortable shiver runs up your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

"Alright. You're creeping me out again." you throw the blanket over the doll like you did yesterday, and then you get ready.

"Behave. I think." you tilt your head and then exhale with a chuckle as you leave your bedroom, leaving Seungmin alone under the blanket.

It's past 5pm when you finally step foot back into your apartment.

You call out to Edie but it seems she wasn't home.

Shrugging, you enter your bedroom to find Seungmin still covered up with the blanket.

"Damn. Okay, you didn't come to life." you toss your bag down and make your way to the doll.

"I left you alone for a long time, didn't I?" you say as you remove the blanket and lean in closer to take a look at Seungmin's face.

For some reason, you think he might be frowning.

"Hey, I have real life things to do. Don't frown at me like that."

The doll is quiet.

"You want me to play with you? What does that even entail? Are we playing or are we playing? Because I'm not doing any of that weird shit." you wave your finger at the unmoving doll, realizing you're probably crazy for even talking to it.

"I'll think of something after dinner." you mutter to yourself.

After a much needed shower, you make your way to the kitchen to eat some dinner.

As you're eating, you suddenly hear what sounds like a giggle.

It feels like your heart stops beating for a moment as you sit up straight and listen.

It's quiet, except the music playing from your phone.

Maybe it was just in your mind.

Yeah, probably.

Edie arrives home shortly after, giving you a shit eating grin.

"So, did you try out the doll?" she wiggles her eyebrows at you.

"No. I don't know, it feels weird... and wrong." you grimace and your friend laughs.

"If you don't want him, let me give it a go." she winks and you laugh.

"Seungmin is my gift, okay? Don't touch him." you wave your finger and she snickers.

"Feeling territorial, are we?"

"N-no!" you blush instantly.

"Don't worry, y/n. I won't touch your little boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend! He's not even alive!" you yell after her as she giggles all the way to her room.

You sigh and make your way to your room too.

"Alright. I don't know what you mean by playing but I'm too tired to do anything. Maybe a movie?" you talk to the doll.

As you get no answer, you decide to just get ready for bed and grab your laptop.

You make yourself comfy under the blanket, your eyes turning to look at Seungmin.

"Ah. I'm probably crazy but I do need a few cuddles." you shrug as you sit up, your laptop on the side.

Pursing your lips, you slowly take off his jacket and put it aside.

"Oh wow." you gasp as you notice the little hairs on his arms, moles here and there, as if it's real skin.

You touch his arm, it's smooth and soft... comforting, even.

Your hand runs down to his and you grab it, your fingers entwined with his.

For some reason, you crave touch even more now so you adjust him to lay down and make him comfy on the pillows before you grab your laptop and put it on his stomach.

You lean your head on his chest, putting his arm around you as you search for a movie.

"If anyone sees me like this, I would die of embarassment." you sigh as you press play on a random movie.

Even though Seungmin's skin feels real, and he feels somewhat warm, it's quiet when your ear presses against his chest, there is no heartbeat to lull you to sleep.

It weirds you out but at the same time it's comforting to have someone next to you.

Oh no.

Your favorite shirt is gone.

You rummage through your whole wardrobe, knowing it's surely where you left it last time.

Edie probably took it, you think and stomp your way to her room after you close the wardrobe with a thud.

You miss the little smirk on Seungmin's face and the way his eyes followed you to the door before stilling again.

"Edie! Where is my favorite shirt? The red one with the yellow sun? I told you to ask if you wanna borrow stuff!"

"What? I never took that shirt. It's ugly anyways."

"Girl, don't call my favorite shirt ugly." you whine while she giggles.

"Sorry, I don't wanna hurt the shirt's feelings." she puts her arms up in fake surrender and you roll your eyes at her.

Coming back to your room, you're stopped in your tracks as you notice the shirt thrown over Seungmin's thighs.

You stand and stare at him quietly, your mind trying to process this because you know for a fact that it wasn't there before.

Slowly making your way to him, you narrow your eyes as you snatch your shirt away from him.

"Is this how you wanna play? Seungmin, the mischievous doll?" you raise your eyebrow.

He seems to be smiling slightly at your sarcastic tone.

"We'll talk about this later." you threaten and run to your bathroom to get ready for classes.

It was only the beginning.

A few weeks have passed since your friends got you Seungmin, and by now you kind of got used to him.

You couldn't really fall asleep unless you were hugging him and every morning when you opened your eyes you would give him a soft kiss to his forehead, just what the letter asked.

You were convinced that there was more to Seungmin though, as your things would disappear or be moved around, only to reappear later, making you frustrated at his playful antics.

Edie was bugging you constantly about using the doll for its actual purposes and one stressful weekend of studying before exam season was all you needed to snap and find a way to let out your frustrations.

Exhaling loudly, you turned to look at Seungmin, your fingers tangled in your hair and pulling in frustration.

It must be 3am by now, you think and decide to get up and take a hot shower.

Luckily, Edie was away, visiting her boyfriend so you had the apartment all to yourself and could make as much noise as you wanted to.

In your tired daze, coupled with the hot water on your skin, you felt a familiar throb in your core.

Your fingers danced on your skin, going lower until you stopped and gasped.

Seungmin.

Maybe it was time to try the doll's abilities.

After you finish rinsing off, you wrapped a towel around yourself and made your way to your room.

Seungmin is propped on your bed in his shirt and boxers, you stripped him a few days before, wanting to be more comfortable when you hold him, the stiff jeans fabric annoying you while you sleep.

"Well. It's just us, I guess." you say as you stand in front of him.

"Fuck it." you let the towel slide down to the floor, your eyes following it and not noticing the spark lighting up in Seungmin's gaze.

"Well, it's not fair that you're dressed." you pout and make your way to your doll, stripping his shirt first and biting your lip as your eyes roam all over his chest and stomach.

You slide his boxers off next, his semi-hard cock popping out and you gasp, did he get hard just from you being naked? If so, how?

Completely flabbergasted, you stared at him.

He never looked more real than in this moment and you felt your arousal gather on your pussy and coat your inner thighs.

"I must be ovulating." you chuckle at yourself and straddle the doll's thigh.

His muscles were firm under your wet pussy and you whined, slowly fucking yourself against Seungmin's thigh.

His cock seemed to react strongly to this, growing, the tip becoming red and angry and your eyes flutter as you practically drool at the sight of his length.

You wrap your hand around him and whimper when you feel his heaviness in your hand, and the warmth radiating off of him, how he twitches against you, beads of pre-cum appearing at his tip.

You don't even want to analyze and think how they made him this real, in this moment all you want is to play with him and find some relief for yourself.

You squeeze his cock a little before giving him a few languid strokes.

"Ah, fuck!" you moan, riding his thigh, your wet pussy leaving trails of arousal on his skin.

You lean in closer and press your lips to his neck, kissing his skin and inhaling his scent that mixed with yours from so many days of just cuddling him.

Seungmin's fingers twitch next to him but you don't notice as your lips dance on his skin, kissing him, your tongue darting out to taste him, your teeth grazing against his nipples.

This seems to make his cock even harder and you smirk, your hand playing with his nipple as you jerk him off faster, still riding his thigh and bringing yourself closer to your release.

You read the manual before, and you know his nipples are sensitive, the more you play with them, the closer he gets to cumming.

You decide to be evil and bring the doll to the edge, before retracting your hands and giggling as you grind on his thigh faster.

"Ah, Seungmin!" you moan out as you bounce on him, and his eyes fall down to your tits bouncing in his face, but again you don't notice since your head is thrown back in full ecstasy as you cum all over his thigh.

"Mm. So good." you whine, needing more, so you throw your leg over him, grabbing his cock and sliding down on his length in one go.

"Ah, you're so big baby." you coo at Seungmin and start bouncing on him, his cock filling you up deliciously and hitting every spot inside you perfectly.

"You like my tits, hm?" you notice that they're right in front of him so you grab his head and smush his face into your chest as you continue fucking on him.

You lean back to look at his face and you swear there's something in his eyes as you hold his cheeks in your palms and slow your hips.

"You're enjoying, aren't you?" you whisper and lean in to kiss the doll, his lips moving with yours as if he's kissing you back and you almost get lost in him.

Gently taking his hands in yours, you kiss his fingers, licking and sucking on them as you gyrate your hips against him.

"I love your hands." you mumble against him, taking two of his fingers in your mouth and sucking on them, staring intently at the doll's face.

You can feel his cock twitch inside you as you clench around him, working his fingers deep in your hot mouth, holding his other hand on your breast.

There's definitely something in his eyes, you note as you bring yourself closer to your high.

You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing with your whole being he would wake up and touch you everywhere, his hands burning imprints on you, wrapping around your neck, pulling on your hair, spanking you, marking you as his.

With that, you moan loudly, your pussy gripping his cock before you spill your juices all over his length, riding out your high, your fingers on his nipples, pinching and pulling.

"You wanna cum, Seungminnie?" you coo at him. "You pleased me well, you can cum." you add with a particularly strong pinch and it's like he heard you, his cock twitching inside you before he exploded, spurts of hot cum filling you up deeply.

"Ah!" you moan at the feeling, your eyes rolling back as you wrap your arms around him.

After taking some time to calm down, you grab Seungmin's face and press a sweet kiss to his forehead.

"I'm glad you're here, dolly." you whisper.

Exam season was riding you hard, coupled with essays and projects you had due, you felt extremely stressed.

You were barely eating and sleeping, the only light in your life was your dolly, Seungmin.

All of your friends were in the same predicament as you, so none of them had the time or the will to hang out.

It was like a struggle happening between you and all your obligations, and you were losing the battle.

Just one more paragraph, you thought as your tired fingers ran across the keyboard, your eyes bloodshot and hair a mess, your entire body stiff with stress.

You felt worn out but every now and then you would glance back at the bed and a small smile would spread on your face upon seeing Seungmin waiting for you there.

A few days ago, you had come home to find little hearts drawn in your notebook, knowing it had to be Seungmin since Edie wasn't home then and couldn't possibly be pranking you.

Maybe you wouldn't admit it to your friends but you loved Seungmin, even if he was just a doll.

For the few months you had him, you had grown attached to him; you talked to him about your innermost thoughts and feelings instead of writing them down in your diary.

You always watched movies with him, and after the movie ended you would play with him, exploring his body and wishing he could do the same to you.

You know it's probably crazy, but to you Seungmin is alive, and seeing those heart doodles only confirmed that there was more to him than you initially thought.

And you were right.

Breaking down into tears of frustration that night, you crawled into bed a sobbing mess, your arms wrapping around Seungmin instictively, holding him tightly as you cried into his neck.

You fell into a deep slumber while Seungmin listened to you cry yourself to sleep, your tears soaking up his shirt.

He couldn't stand it, his heart began to beat erratically as he started taking in shallow breaths, his hand gripping at the sheet below him as he tried to gasp for breath.

He shivered against you, his eyes were wide and trained on the ceiling above him as he slowly got his heartbeat and breathing steady.

Miraculously, you didn't feel a thing and kept sleeping as he slowly came to his senses.

The first thing Seungmin felt inside his body was thirst and hunger, his stomach growling, making him feel dizzy as he clutched onto you.

I need to get up!, he thought to himself before slowly rolling out of your hold and falling down on the floor with a thud.

"Ow." he muttered and his head popped up to check on you but you were still fast asleep.

A sad smile spread on his face, you were so exhausted and it hurt him.

Seungmin gathered all his strength as he staggered to the kitchen, drinking a few glasses of water, only feeling a bit more normal after that.

He rummaged through the cabinets, having watched you cook multiple times, he knew where everything was.

Deciding it was fastest to make some instant ramen, he did just that, almost burning himself in the process.

He was so hungry he couldn't think straight, he had no idea what was happening, who exactly he was even though little snippets of memories were running through his mind, he couldn't remember anything clearly except the memories he shared with you.

Seungmin didn't have answers to any of his questions, but there was only one thing he was sure about.

He loves you.

So, after he finished eating, Seungmin sat down in your room, opened up your laptop and worked all night tirelessly to finish up your essay and project.

He was going to make sure you get your much needed rest while he helps you pass your exams.

Slowly waking up in the morning, your hands instantly reached out for Seungmin.

With your eyes closed, you started moving your hand around your mattress only to realize that it's empty.

You freeze, dread washing over you before you open your eyes, blinking and looking around the room.

"Oh my god!" you all but scream when you see Seungmin, your Seungmin, the doll, sitting at your table, his upper body leaned on it as he sleeps.

You can hear and see that he's breathing and you don't know how to react, frozen in complete shock.

Quietly, you get up, tippy-toeing your way to him, you lean down to look at his face.

He looks adorable, his face smushed against your papers, his hand on the keyboard of your laptop and the other in his lap.

His eyes move under his eyelids, pretty lashes caressing his skin, his body rising with the breaths he's taking in.

"S-Seungmin?" you place your hand on his upper back, your fingers twitching a little.

"Hm." he hums a little and you chuckle.

You're supposed to feel scared, mortified even; but you feel giddy to finally see him look at you, talk to you, touch you.

"Minnie?" you try again, fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

His eyes flutter open, and he's confused for a second before his eyes widen at the sight of you.

"Y/n!" he exclaims, sitting up suddenly.

"You're alive. How?" you ask as you observe him.

"I- I woke up last night. I saw how you were struggling, how exhausted you were and I couldn't take it anymore."

"You saw... everything?" your heart beats faster.

"Y-yes." Seungmin nods, the tips of his ears becoming red. "It was as if I was in a state of sleep paralysis, and kept fighting to wake up."

"So you heard everything I said, felt everything I did?" you ask, for some reason the knowledge that Seungmin was actually present during every time you played with him, made you squeeze your thighs together and he noticed, the redness from his ears spreading to his neck.

"Yes." he says and you laugh in disbelief.

"This is insane! Wait, what are you doing at my table?" you remember suddenly and he chuckles awkwardly, playing with the end of his shirt.

"I- uhm... I finished your essay and project. Don't worry, I didn't fuck anything up! I worked on it as if it was you." he says and suddenly your eyes water.

"Minnie. You're so sweet. I'm so happy you came to life." you throw your arms around him and he gasps, his heart jumping in his chest.

He can't believe you didn't freak out and turn away.

Not only that you didn't turn away, you sat in his lap as he tentatively put his arms around you.

You held him tighter, making him melt into you.

Leaning back, you grabbed his face and started kissing him.

"Y/n, wait- you're not freaking out?" he stops you suddenly, an insecure look in his eyes as he observes your face.

"No, I knew you were alive. You hid my stuff and played pranks on me the whole time." you narrow your eyes at him and Seungmin chuckles awkwardly.

"Oops?" he grimaces and you laugh.

"Make it up to me, please." you whisper against his lips and Seungmin can't deny you.

He presses his lips on yours, his hands on your lower back, bringing you closer to him and making you grind against his lap.

Your nails dig into his shoulders when you feel him grow under you, and you can't help it as you start grinding against him.

All the times you played with him, you wished he'd wake up and just take you, and here he was now.

"Please, Minnie. I need you so bad." you moan and Seungmin smirks against your lips, his hands sliding down to grip your ass as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth at the same time.

He swallows all the sounds you make, his tongue exploring every inch of you as he lifts his hand and smacks your ass.

You jolt a little, pressing against him harder, feeling his cock twitching against your wet core.

Seungmin gets impatient, his hands grip the back of your thighs and he lifts you up, carrying you to your bed as you clutch onto him.

"I fantasized about this so much." you gasp breathlessly as he kneels between your legs, grabbing your ankles and pushing your knees to your chest.

"About what exactly? Tell me what you need, y/n." Seungmin's eyes are dark and filled with lust.

You shiver, biting on your lip as you feel more arousal soak your panties.

"I want you to be rough with me, please. Just do whatever you want." you whimper making him smirk.

"Anything you need, darling." Seungmin leans down closer to you, pressing his lips on yours hard and forcing his tongue in as his hand comes up to grip your throat.

The sound that comes out of you and travels into him, makes him grow impossibly hard in his boxers.

He squeezes your throat a little as he kisses you hard, taking your breath away and you dig your nails in his arm, your middle lifting up towards his and brushing against his hard member.

Seungmin presses down on you, slowly grinding against your wet panties as he leans back and grips your throat harder.

Your eyes flutter as you completely give into him, his gaze is fixed on you and how you're so willingly letting him hold your life in his hand.

When he releases you, you gasp for breath and grab at him.

"Fuck me, please Seungmin!" you groan and he slides your panties down as you rip your shirt off fast.

He chuckles at your eagerness, getting rid of his clothes too.

He presses his lips on your neck, his pretty hands exploring your body just how you wanted him to, fingers playing with your nipples, running over the dips and valleys of you.

Your whole body is on fire, your core is throbbing to be touched and it's like he senses it, his hand sliding between your legs to cup your pussy.

"S-Seungmin!" you whimper as he starts sliding his fingers on your wet folds, brining them up to your clit and pressing into it.

"Is this all mine?" he smirks darkly at you, torturing your sensitive clit, his other hand worshipping your breasts.

"Yes, all yours!" you moan as he slaps your pussy, a wave of arousal rushing through you.

"Please!" you beg, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.

"I love when you beg like that." Seungmin says, pushing his fingers inside you and you whimper as your pussy sucks them in eagerly.

"You always did what you wanted with me. Not that I mind that, but it's my turn now." he smirks, finding that gummy spot inside you and fucking slowly into it.

"Mm..." you moan as he pinches your nipples, teasing you with slow moves.

He speeds up, only to slow down again, driving you insane as your body yearns for release.

"P-please, let me cum." you whimper and Seungmin chuckles, withdrawing his fingers from you.

All those times you edged him were coming back to bite you in the ass as he decided to take his sweet time with you before giving you what you want.

You whine but before you can protest more, you feel the tip of his cock pressing against you, running over your folds and teasing your clit.

You're a moaning mess as he slowly pushes in, only the tip breaching your hot cunt.

You wait for more but realize with despair that he is going to tease you until the very end as he starts fucking you only with the tip of his pretty cock.

"Oh my god! Please!" you whine.

"Be quiet and take it." he says, his hand wrapping around your throat once more, squeezing as his tip goes in and out of you, then runs over your folds, smearing your arousal everywhere, playing with your tortured clit.

You give in, spreading your legs more as you hold them open for him while he tortures you.

"That's it. My good girl." Seungmin praises you and you whimper as he lets go of your neck.

You're about to beg for more but Seungmin leans back before grabbing you and turning you around on all fours.

"Oh!" you exclaim as he spreads your legs with his.

"I know what you want, darling." he chuckles lowly behind you before pushing into you harshly, making you take his entire length in one thrust.

"Ah!" you whimper as your pussy clenches around him immediately, not wanting to let him go.

Seungmin grunts, spanking you fast and hard a few times before he grabs your hips and starts fucking into you with an unforgiving pace.

You gasp for air as your grab the headboard, making the bed shake with the movement of your bodies.

His hand tangles in your hair and he pulls as you cry out, not being able to hold it in anymore, you cream around his cock and his eyes roll back, his hips stuttering as he releases inside you, filling you up with his hot load.

"Oh my god." you whimper, collapsing down as both of you breathe hard and he wraps his arms around you.

"That's what you fantasized about, hm?" he whispers, lips brushing against your ear.

"Y-yes." you say, breathless.

Both of you are quiet for some time before you face each other, breaking into shy smiles.

"I love you, Seungmin." your hand is on his cheek, and then in his soft hair as you caress him.

"I love you so much, y/n. What I feel for you woke me up, because I couldn't stand just watching you go through all the stress alone." he says as you hold each other.

"I wasn't alone, you were always there." you retort with a smile.

Something more gentle settles between you, and the two of you cuddle quietly, enjoying in each other's presence.

You stay like that for some time before you decide to clean up and eat breakfast.

Walking into the kitchen, you don't even notice Edie who turns around and upon seeing you walking in with Seungmin, she shrieks, taking a step back as her face morphs into a look of shock.

"What the fuck?!"

"Calm down, Edie." you chuckle.

"Calm down?! He's - he's alive! How?!" she keeps freaking out.

"I woke up-"

"He talks!" Edie interrupts him and you start laughing.

"Oh my god, Edie. No, we don't know how he woke up either and how he's alive." you say with a chuckle.

"Do you remember anything, Minnie?" you turn to Seungmin and he seems to blush at the nickname, fiddling with his fingers as if he didn't just rail you in the bedroom thirty minutes ago.

"Snippets. I remember this cold place, some kind of droning sound. Water too, maybe? And there were others. But I can't remember their faces at all. I just know they were there."

"Others?" Edie purses her lips and then grabs her laptop hurriedly.

"Them?" she types quickly before turning the laptop towards the two of you, the familiar site presenting the sex dolls on her screen.

Seungmin gasps, his lips trembling.

"T-that... that's them! They were there with me. In the cold room." Seungmin suddenly hugs himself and you can see he's becoming distressed.

Quickly, you reach towards the laptop, closing it and putting your arms around him.

"It's okay, take a deep breath." you say softly as you caress him.

"How about we finish our exams this week and then all of us try to find out what actually happened to you, Seungmin?" Edie offers and he nods.

"I'd like that." he says. "Just... I never want to go back there. I don't know why but it feels horrifying."

"Don't worry, I won't let anyone take you away from me." you smile at him, kissing his cheek gently.

Your exam and presentation week pass by smoothly, with the constant help and support of Seungmin, everything was easier.

He insisted on sharing your burdens, always reminding you to take care of yourself, preparing you warm meals while you studied and listening to you yap about what you learned for practice.

Your friend group all came to see Seungmin and they adored his personality instantly since he was a little shy with them but clearly adored you, they congratulated themselves for finding the perfect guy for you.

As the week came to an end, after a good night's sleep and a warm breakfast, Seungmin, Edie and you sat on your living room floor with your laptops, the manual and Seungmin's letter.

All three of you went through the letter and manual multiple times, like some new information would appear and help you understand where Seungmin came from, how did he suddenly come to life, why did the usb opening disappear when he woke up, why can't he remember anything.

The site wasn't much help either, it only had pictures of the dolls, info about them written in a similar fashion as Seungmin's manual was.

Nothing about the company except that they had advanced technology they were proud of testing.

After hours of research, you came up with a big fat nothing.

"I can't believe there's nothing on the net about this company!" Edie threw her hands up in frustration.

"There's something fishy about all of this." you let out a sigh as Seungmin looks at you.

"I'm really trying hard to remember more." he says.

"I know you are." you smile at him, caressing his face. "How about we take a break?"

"Sounds good to me. I'm meeting my lover for lunch anyways." Edie smiles.

"Hey, thank you so much for helping, Edie." you smile at her and she chuckles.

"Of course! What are friends for!" she exclaims with a giggle.

"I want to thank you for everything you've done for me." you whisper while you and Seungmin cuddle.

He smiles as you lift up before burying your face in his neck and kissing his soft skin.

"It was my pleasure." Seungmin takes in a shaky breath as your tongue darts out to lick at his sensitive spot before you sink your teeth into it.

"Y/n." he whimpers, grabbing at you.

"And it will be my pleasure to show you how grateful I am." you smirk at him, his eyes hooded as he observes you.

You lift his shirt up, taking it off and tossing it aside, your lips attaching to his skin instantly.

You leave kisses on his collarbone and chest, your tongue playing with his nipples, teeth grazing the sensitive buds.

Seungmin relaxes, letting you kiss his stomach, all the way down to the bulge in his boxers, where you press a kiss to his head.

"Ah, y/n." he whines, lifting up into you.

You only smirk, hooking your fingers in his underwear and pulling it down, watching his cock spring free, pre cum beading at the tip.

You need to taste him, tongue on him immediately before you wrap your lips around the head, sucking on it gently.

"Shit!" Seungmin moans, his hand tangling in your hair and holding you down.

It's clear to you that he's slowly taking control as he lifts his hips up, pushing your head down at the same time and making you take more of his length.

Your eyes flutter, enjoying the way he uses you, fucking up slowly into your mouth and you hold onto his thighs as he grips your hair and pushes in further.

You gag a little when you feel the tip of his cock bullying its way to the back of your throat and your pussy clenches.

You squeeze your thighs, looking for some friction as Seungmin keeps fucking up into you harder and faster.

"Fuck, you're doing so good, baby." he moans, his body trembling for a moment.

You choke on his length but he doesn't let up.

"Just a little more, and then I'll give you my cum." he smirks and you whimper around him, your cunt throbbing.

Your hand sneaks on his inner thigh only to grab his balls, squeezing them and massaging them and Seungmin snaps, his hips jolting as he releases hot spurts of cum inside you.

Your eyes close in pleasure as you swallow, your pussy dripping arousal on your panties.

"Please, Minnie. Please, touch me." you're desperate as you pop off of him and he shushes you, lifting up and laying you down.

He strips you quickly, his lips on your skin, finger on your wet cunt.

"So eager for me, aren't you?" he smirks, dipping just the tips of his fingers inside you.

"Y-yes, ah!" you whimper when he flicks your sensitive clit.

"Such a good girl." Seungmin coos at you, plunging two of his fingers inside you, his other hand stimulating your clit as he massages it and pinches occasionally.

Being the little tease that he is, he pulls his fingers out any time you're close to cumming, just to watch you writhe in frustration, your little pussy clenching around nothing.

He doesn't let you cum until he's reduced you to a crying, shaking mess and by that time you are so fucked out that you can't even speak.

You clench around his fingers before exploding all over his hand, squirting as his dark eyes observe you.

When he retracts his fingers, you grip his wrist, bringing his hand to your mouth as you swirl your tongue around them, cleaning them up and sucking on the digits.

"F-fuck." Seungmin whines.

Before he can lean down to kiss you, your phone starts ringing.

"Let it." he begs.

"It's Edie." you say quickly, ignoring the throbbing in your core. "Hey." you pick up as Seungmin catches his breath.

"What?! Okay, thanks for the heads up!"

"What's going on?" Seungmin looks at you worriedly and you quickly shake your head, grabbing a few tissues from the nightstand to clean yourself up.

"Edie and her boyfriend were in a diner and saw the news on tv, you were on it, and the other dolls. The company said that all the dolls have some kind of malfunction and that they're taking them back-"

"They wanna take me away from you?" Seungmin's lower lip trembles.

"You know I won't let that happen." you say as you open your laptop, typing in the site.

"It's gone!" you exclaim, the only thing that's popping up when you type the url in, is an error message.

"Shit, they're gonna come for me! I can't be here. I- I need to leave." Seungmin starts panicking suddenly.

"Seungmin, please, it's gonna be okay. I will-"

"No, y/n. It's too dangerous. It's best if they don't find me here. I don't wanna get you mixed up into anything."

"Minnie, I'm already mixed up into it. Because I love you and I won't let them hurt you." you grab his shaky hands.

"But-"

"No, we will do this together. I'll fight them, I swear. Just promise me you won't leave." you beg, squeezing his hands.

"Fine. I promise. I love you so much, y/n." Seungmin kisses you, the kiss feels like a goodbye to you but you don't want to dwell on it, the hope in your heart is not dying yet.

But, that night when you fall asleep in Seungmin's arms, he breaks his promise.

Having an inkling that whoever created him in the company has a tendency of being cruel, he didn't want you anywhere near that.

With a heavy heart, he looked at your sleeping face, caressing you and pressing his lips to your forehead and then your lips, he whispered his confession of love and disappeared into the night.

As he wondered next to the road, a car rolled closer and Seungmin lifted his thumb.

The car slowed down and when he looked into the passenger's seat window, a reflection of a familiar face stared at him in shock...

~taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @juskz @quokkacidal @chuuyaobsessed @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @lixies-favorite-cookie @thelostprincessofasgard @linocvp1d @stayjinnie @portgasdbru @lilgothhishhh @selinia86 @felixsbabe @staytinyluva @sadroses98 @katexstay @gnabnahcsworld @hazelbazil @iwannahugchangbin @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @skzfelixlove @skzjen @syedazarintasnim @geektacularmommom-blog @cookiesnmilfx @kayleefriedchicken @stxt-bby @strykdsstanot8 @hyunjinhwang2018 @binniesbabygirl @hyunjiniretti @linavc @julciaqwerty @salemluvsmusic @diipsy @gwinamsgirlfriend @sofix-hc7 @poptrim @queerpumpkinnn @redlikemysoul @hyunjinslefteyebrow @frehyun @minluvly @highkeyinlovewithhanjisung @sushiinmidnight @rei-reia @thequibbie @sblack91511915 @channiesfavitem @edevotion @leeknowinggg @charlieg1rl @spookwyrdie @estella-novella @alaskaortiga @hyunjinsruinedpainting @lucywindigo @miniverse-zen @sky00ung @rosekpopfanfic @maysoka @pixiiebutt @beaquokka @bookswillfindyouaway @cosmicrecs @seungiee-3 @blrzzz @minniesverse @o-0i @lee-knows-cats @ms-flowergirl @hyunjinhoexxx @lattyjiji @onlyleeknowsss @courtnort455 @qwonyoung23 @oreoqueen @nightmarenyxx @hongtyong @lashaemorow @1810cl

2K notes · View notes

nachojaehyun · 9 months ago

Note

like a part 2 where the reader just keeps on acting nonchalant like nothing happened and wonwoo gets more and more riled up. cause “why am i the only one going insane here” type of feelings. and he just ends up taking here in a dressing room or something cause damn they need to fuck

she’ll ride the dick like a carnival

pairing. idol! wonwoo + new staff! fem reader!

summary. since that one fateful night at his apartment, jeon wonwoo realizes that he is fucked. but not really, since he can’t seem to get you in his bed.

warnings. [PLEASE READ] dom/sub dynamics, slight dom wonwoo, dirty talk, use of nicknames, THICK dick and lowkey desperate wonu, reader is VERY nonchalant, implied mirror sex, riding, wonu almost cries… AGAIN, sloppy kisses on the tits, subtle jizz play — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. desperate sex that turns steamy and passionate is my favorite genre holy shit 😭 first time answering an ask! hope you like it :)

find part 1 here

jeon wonwoo could only watch you from across the waiting room as you pranced around in a midi skirt, chatting happily with the staff.

he wanted to cuss you out.

shifting in his chair, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, angrily sniffing.

how could you act like this?

how were you so nonchalant? so unbothered about the fact that you had him seeing stars merely 72 hours ago?

it had been 3 days since you had sucked the soul out of his body. 3 days since he couldn’t stop rutting his cock into his fist to the thoughts of you. 3 days since he had become insane.

he tried to get your attention, he really did. the poor boy would keep trying to pry anything out of your mouth that gave him a hint about your feelings.

but you were unpredictable, just as he had thought.

your face was like a wall — completely emotionless. any thought that passed through your head could barely be understood and wonwoo wanted to smash his head into the concrete at that realization.

“jeez, what’s got you this tense?” mingyu sits down next to him, adjusting his costume as he stared at his best friend. “i’m just… worried about the performance, nothing else.”

mingyu knew that wonwoo was lying.

hell, even wonwoo knew he was lying.

but none of them seemed to question each other as they sat in silence, each immersed in their own thoughts.

“wonwoo-ssi?” your voice called out to him. the boy singled out you and your sound amid nearly 50 people in the room, surprisingly springing to his feet as he walked towards you.

“your outfit is ready, follow me.”

the man silently walked behind you, striding toward the secluded attached room in the corner.

he pulled the curtain and stepped inside, and he was immediately handed his clothes. the outfit was simple— a sleeveless shirt and some baggy white jeans.

“i’ll be outside,” you nodded, bidding him farewell as you pulled the curtain.

sighing, wonwoo turned to look at himself in the mirror. his hardened cock stared at him in the face— a haunting image of the effect you had on him.

how am i the only one who is this riled up? he wondered. i can’t be the only one… right?

he wasn’t.

you would be lying if you said your panties weren’t glued to your core since you walked in. the sight of him had your head spinning, wanting nothing more than to strip him down and pull his dick into your throat.

but of course, you were not some depraved whore.

you set boundaries after that night. he was your client, and you were his stylist. of course you weren’t supposed to suck him off!

the fitting next morning after the incident had made you lose your self control. you recall how you had to get yourself off in the bathroom, relishing in the thoughts of seeing wonwoo in a tight fitted suit.

but of course, you would never voice these thoughts out loud. being in the same room as him was punishment enough to remind you of your sins. you wondered if applying for a styling job for a different member would work—

“uh?” wonwoo’s deep voice cut off your lewd thoughts, making you shake your head to clear them out. “a little help?”

“you good?" you sighed. “i’m coming in,” sucking in a breath as you stepped inside the small box.

wonwoo was leaning against one of the mirrored walls, one leg up on a stool in the corner. “what’s wrong?” you searched for a solution in his face.

“i seem to be stuck in a seemingly hard situation.”

one look down to his hands, you immediately realized the problem.

wonwoo’s dick was hard, the bulge over his boxers made that evident. the problem? the sheer size of his chub was not allowing the zipper of his jeans to zip up.

the man had a small waist but also had weirdly broad hips. his pants always had to be altered so that they suited his body type.

however, this was a problem that no other stylist had ever had to deal with.

“what do i do?” wonwoo whined, pouting his lips as he pushed up his glasses.

“wonwoo-ssi,” you spoke. your voice remained surprisingly stable, despite the fact that you could feel your pussy pulsating.

“i think you need to solve this problem on your own,” you looked into his eyes, almost feeling bad at how he panted.

however, before you could turn around and leave, wonwoo pushed his glasses up his nose and caged you between his arms.

your back hit one of the mirrored walls, as a surprised gasp fumbled from your mouth.

“wonw—”

“for the love of god woman, do you not see what you do to me?”

the desperation in his voice made your knees buckle as you stared into his eyes, gaze alternating to his lips as he bit them.

wonwoo heaved as he inched closer towards your face. “give me one good reason why you shouldn’t take care of my problem. you’re the one that caused it after all.”

hearing him voice out his thoughts, you turned your head to the side, embarrassed by the effect his voice had on you. how was this even your fault—

but with a harsh grip, jeon wonwoo grabbed your chin with his fingers, forcing to you look at him.

“can’t think of anything can you?” his head dipped down, tracing his teeth along your neck. the sensation made you hiss silently. “help me, please. what would carat think if i went out on stage looking like this?”

“sit,” is all you managed to say, voice enamoured with need.

you all but pushed wonwoo onto the iron stool in the corner, hauling yourself onto his lap as you crashed your lips into his.

fuck, your lips were way better than he had ever imagined. they were soft and pillowy as they engulfed his mouth, tongue grazing against his own as you ground down on his crotch.

wonwoo’s free hand pushed your head impossibly close as he licked into your mouth, wanting to memorize every crevice.

spit dribbles from your connected mouths, sloppy and wet kisses sounding obscenely loud in the secluded area. the man does not care that drool is now staining his tank top. he could never get enough of this.

his other hand gripped tightly onto your ass, groping and fondling the fat. after a second, he pulled away from you, glasses foggy and lips swollen as he tried to catch his breath.

“shit baby, i can’t take it anymore,” he whisper-screamed, tears coating his lashes. you wished you could burn this image into your head for the rest of your life.

you could only nod, ready to sink to your knees before wonwoo stopped you, tutting. “pull your panties to the side, doll,” he commanded, chest heaving.

the change in his tone had your thighs tingling. you pulled your midi skirt up, tucking the ends into the hem as you exposed yourself.

at the sight of your baby blue cotton panties, jeon wonwoo nearly growled.

the material was thoroughly soaked and ruined, a deep blue patch staining the cloth. as you pulled them to the side, he noticed how slicked up your heat was, a string of arousal connected your folds to the cotton.

you gripped onto his shoulders for support in your half-sitting position as he glided two fingers against your folds.

“so wet for me already, huh? don’t even need to work you up for my cock,” he smacked his lips. “filthy girl.”

wonwoo strained his ears to listen for any footsteps near the area as he sucked his dampened fingers into his mouth. your taste was making him dizzy, breath faltering as he rolled his eyes to the back of his head.

without wasting any more time, you pulled his cock out of its confines, sliding his boxers down just enough to free his length.

the sight of him always made you salivate. however, it was clear that he didn’t want that happening today.

steadily, you positioned yourself over him, hovering before you finally pushed his fat tip in.

the sensation had you moaning out loud— before he slapped his hand over your mouth. “shh! don’t be so loud baby, they will hear us,” he cooed.

you nodded frantically, slowly inching downwards as his dick began to fill you up. once he was bottomed out, you couldn’t help but sob into his palm.

“i know baby, i know. feels good yeah?” he smirked, shushing you with sweet words as he let you adjust to his size.

wonwoo’s thick dick was buried up to your hilt, and you felt so incredibly full. your poor walls clenched around his cock, nearly making him bust.

without a word, the man beneath you grabbed at your waist, moving you up and down on his length, slowly. with him pistoning in and out of you, you could feel your senses going into overdrive.

wonwoo tugged your top down with his teeth, suckling along the valley of your breasts to keep himself quiet. your pussy felt incredibly tight, creaming him for all he was worth.

his strong arms continued to guide you, until your legs automatically adjusted to the pace. your body began to move on its own accord— tits jiggling in wonwoo's mouth with each bounce.

"f-fuck!" you whimpered, beginning to lose your mind. for a moment, he looks up at you through his glasses, smiling widely from between your breasts.

the bastard's cheeky grin has you forgetting your own name as he lapped his tongue around your skin like he fucking owned it.

"already going dumb on my cock? shi— you ride so well baby."

your bounces show him just how stretched you were, making wonwoo's stomach clench as he split you apart. you tease him a little by slowing down, grinding down on him as he bites his lips and throws his head back.

as his hands grab onto your cheeks to spread them, he accidentally catches a glimpse of your back in the mirror opposite to you two.

god, you looked so fucking hot.

without knowing why, you felt him twitch inside. "not gonna— oh shit! — last very long now baby."

at the sound of his confession, you bring a hand down to rub at your clit. taking the hint, he begins to rut back into you, using all his strength to fuck into your heat.

"p—please wonwoo hah! cum inside, please please please,"

you're not sure why you beg, but you're too cock drunk to process anything but the fact that you want him filling you up, stuffing your cunt full with his release.

"you su— fuck fuck fuck—" wonwoo whispers, biting down on your right tit to subdue the moan that was about to leave his throat.

with that and a grunt, he cums inside your pussy, filling you up to the brim. his length twitches inside you, shooting out excess spurts. feeling himself soften, wonwoo pulls out of you. you whine at the sudden sensation of feeling so empty.

the boy stays mesmerized at the way your cum mixes together, escaping your spent hole in small globs.

as a pathetic attempt, he uses two fingers to plug the release back inside you, making you whimper again at the sudden intrusion. "sorry," he apologizes, before placing your panties back where they belonged.

with a fluid motion, jeon wonwoo tucks himself back into his calvin klein boxers and then zipping his pants up, meeting your dazed eyes with another cute smile. "see? it fits now."

you can’t help but smile back at him, panting to catch your breath.

your thighs hurt from the awkward position, but you were sure that you would never have it any other way.

so, that's how you end up walking around the rest of the working day— wonwoo's cum safely filled up inside you, as you and him exchanged comically wide-eyed looks every few minutes, a shade of pink grazing your cheeks.

#jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo smut #wonwoo #seventeen #wonwoo asks #seventeen smut drabbles #svt x reader #seventeen drabbles #seventeen thoughts #svt hard thoughts #svt x you #seventeen smut #kpop hard thoughts #kpop hard hours #kpop smut

5K notes · View notes

afeelgoodblog · 6 months ago

Text

The Best News of Last Month - June 2024

💡Eco-friendly innovations building a better future—literally

1. Bill Gates-backed startup creates Lego-like brick that can store air pollution for centuries: 'A milestone for affordably removing carbon dioxide from the air'

The Washington Post detailed a "deceptively simple" procedure by Graphyte to store a ton of CO2 for around $100 a ton, a number long considered a milestone for affordably removing carbon dioxide from the air. Direct air capture technologies used in the United States and Iceland cost $600 to $1,200 per ton, per the Post.

2. Violent crime is down and the US murder rate is plunging, FBI statistics show

Violent crime dropped by more than 15% in the United States during the first three months of 2024, according to statistics released Monday by the FBI.

The new numbers show violent crime from January to March dropped 15.2% compared to the same period in 2023, while murders fell 26.4% and reported rapes decreased by 25.7%.

3. She thrifted this vase for $4. It turned out to be an ancient Mayan artifact

Anna Lee Dozier, paid about $4 for what she assumed was a reproduction of a Mayan vase. It turned out to be the real deal: an artifact that’s at least 1,200 years old from the ancient civilization. And now, it's headed back to its homeland.

4. U.S. Marshals Find 200 Missing Children Across the Nation During Operation We Will Find You 2

Of the 200 children found, 173 were endangered runaways, 25 were considered otherwise missing, one was a family abduction, and one was a non-family abduction. [...] 14 of the children were found outside the city where they went missing.

5. Amazon's ditching the plastic air pillows in its boxes

Amazon said the change will help it use nearly 15 billion fewer plastic pillows annually. The paper fillers are made from 100% recyclable materials and are curbside recyclable. The company began a transition away from plastic filler in October 2023 when it announced its first U.S. automated fulfillment center to eliminate plastic-delivery packaging.

6. Supreme Court rejects bid to restrict access to abortion pill

In a blow for anti-abortion advocates, the Supreme Court on Thursday rejected a challenge to the abortion pill mifepristone, meaning the commonly used drug can remain widely available. The court found unanimously that the group of anti-abortion doctors who questioned the Food and Drug Administration’s decisions making it easier to access the pill did not have legal standing to sue.

7. Wild horses return to Kazakhstan steppes after absence of two centuries

A group of the world’s last wild horses have returned to their native Kazakhstan after an absence of about 200 years. Seven Przewalski’s horses, the only truly wild species of the animal in the world, flown to central Asian country from zoos in Europe

That's it for this month :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to share this post with your friends.

#best news of last week

3K notes · View notes

pseudowho · 9 months ago

Text

The Wristwatch

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

You had not known you were Nanami Kento's girl, until the Wristwatch Incident.

In truth, your affection had been brewing so slowly, you had not known if you were imagining it.

You had not realised you were in love with Kento, until he leaned in close, and you smelled the smoky, wood-rich warmth of him. Until you found yourself nursing stomach-dropping disappointment, if your phone pinged and it wasn't him. Until you woke up in cold sweats, the memory of the dream of his skin on yours so vivid that your heartbeat throbbed between your legs.

You couldn't accept it. It couldn't be love, when he did not love you back. And yet...that intoxicating dance continued, while your head dipped in denial...blinkered.

The extra coffee that would be slid over the desk to you, by a strong, gentle hand. The late night phonecalls, decompressing from the stress of your missions. The occasional dinner in each others' company, because, well...we both need to eat? Why not eat together?

You were afraid to label it; afraid to lose the soft skirting intimacy that you had. Nanami Kento was a hard man to gauge; alternately sincere and distant, warm and cool, closely familiar and objectively analytical. He kept you at arms' length; close enough to brush fingertips, but far enough that you could run...if you wanted. And you never did.

You had gone shopping, together, one balmy spring afternoon. You both needed new clothes...so why not together? It makes sense, really. Nothing else in it, I'm sure. Just friends. He doesn't feel that way about me, anyway.

He had insisted upon Ginza Shopping Mall. You balked at the exquisitely-expensive-upmarketness of it, but you could never deny him, for fear of losing this time together. You had perused for new earrings, your belly clenching at the many zeroes on every pricetag. He had ambled over to another counter, just browsing, and there for quite some time.

"See anything you like?" That deep-roast voice broke you out of your reverie. You looked up, into twinkling hazel eyes, and blushed. Yes, you. One of you, Kento, please and thank you.

"No," you scoffed, turning your back on the jewellery, and walking towards the shop door, "too cheap for me. I couldn't possibly be seen wearing them."

Kento laughed, slipping a box into his pocket, and walking just close enough to send your brain into a spiral. You barely functioned through lunch. Kento remained, as ever, a gentleman.

As he drove you to your door, and you bid him a flustered goodnight, you felt that same big, warm hand on your arm, holding you back to him.

"Wait," Kento insisted, "I have...something. For you. Open it when you're home." He pressed a smooth, embossed box into your hands. You could not see what it was, under the glossy paper sleeve. You opened your mouth to chastise Kento, and he interrupted smoothly.

"It's your birthday soon. Consider it an early gift. You couldn't possibly refuse...?" One raised, fine eyebrow. That cool, impassive gaze. You pouted. Sneaky old goat.

"Alright. You win this time, Kento...but I'll get you back," you had promised. He had simply smiled indulgently, stepped out to open your door, and watched you until you were inside.

With trembling hands, you slid the smooth paper cover off the box, and your stomach somersaulted.

Tag Heuer.

"No...Kento-- you didn't," you hushed to yourself, rushing to open the box.

You fumbled an exquisite silver, blue-faced women's watch out of the box. It seemed, somehow, familiar. You couldn't possibly. You knew the pricetag on these. Even the packaging was too expensive for you.

With one hand over your mouth and a pounding little heart, you sent Kento a text with shaky hands;

Nanami Kento. Absolutely not. Take it back.

A few anxious minutes, pacing, looking at the watch resting on the table and gasping each time. Three small dot dot dots...dot dot dots...and a response.

Sorry. Lost the receipt. It will look good on you.

Squeaking and grinning to yourself, you tried the watch on. You took it off. You paced. You tried it on again. You fell back onto your bed, legs kicking, and hands over your face.

Every further refusal you send to Kento, was flatly ignored. He left you on read all night.

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

The next day, at work, you couldn't help but notice the looks you were receiving. They weren't bad looks, certainly, more...surprise? Happy acceptance? Knowing smiles? Each person the same; glancing to your watch, eyebrows raising, and searching your face with a grin. You didn't understand it.

Over lunch, Shoko reached over to you, a coffee in her other hand, and tapped the new watch on your wrist.

"Couples' watches now, hmm?" She smirked. You frowned, questioning. Shoko scoffed at you, as if you were playing coy, when you didn't even know the rules of the game. Shoko's smile didn't falter once.

You confronted Kento later that afternoon, dragging him into a dusty narrow corridor, and holding the watch up to him with fighting eyes.

Kento's heart burst with pride, biting his lip with a sly smile, and taking your wristwatched hand in his own. He tipped your arm back and forth, admiring the watch on your wrist from all angles, with a lovesick sigh. You suddenly recalled, with flushed cheeks, where you had seen such a similar wristwatch before.

Kento watched your mental gymnastics with a slowly growing smile. You almost caught on fire as he raised your hand to his lips, pressing an adoring kiss to the back of your knuckles.

"Wondered how long you'd take to notice," Kento rumbled, eyed closed and nuzzling his nose against your fingers, "that you're my girl. And always have been."

#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento #pseudowho #nanami fluff #nanami headcanons #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento nanami x y/n #nanami #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you

3K notes · View notes

reignpage · 1 month ago

Text

The Other Woman

Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3

The doctors and psychologists said it’d be great for your husband’s well-being to be with friends and family. And for the most part, that’s proven true.

Insisting on welcoming Satoru back properly, his students organised a party and invited anyone who had a remote connection with their teacher. Even Nanami had taken time off from work to be here and had given a polite pat on his shoulder and a genuine greeting.

That brought a huge smile to the white-haired man who pounced on the poor guy without remorse, giggling about how he knew he ‘always liked him really’. It felt great to watch him be surrounded by and showered with so much love and support, the kind he deserves; you could tell it was bringing life back to him. After all, it must have been painful for him to have been cooped up in the house trying to reconcile his new reality with the one he remembers.

You keep reminding yourself of that.

Satoru needs this.

He needs normalcy. The normal he remembers, the normal he went to sleep thinking about and not the one he had suddenly woken up to, years passing him by.

Everyone knows this. He knows this. Just as you do.

So why is every person in the party sneaking you pitying and concerned glances?

Sure, no one could possibly think this is easy for you, to be the stranger that Satoru still gets surprised to see in the morning. The one he hesitates to say goodnight to, unsure of the boundaries, the etiquette, the right thing to do. He sometimes forgets to text you if he’s going out, shocked and annoyed, you’re sure, to see the many missed calls and messages from you. And you know he studies the picture frames all over your house like a textbook that would give him all the answer he needs.

All he gets, you’re willing to bet, is the realisation that you’re both the tether he needs to keep grounded, that guides him through the sea of memories he cannot touch, and the leash that binds him to a role he doesn’t remember signing up for.

Are they looking at you with worry because of the inevitable toll this sudden shift has taken on your mental health or because your husband is talking to his ex-girlfriend the way he used to talk to you?

It can’t be the latter, right?

Because there’s nothing to be worried about.

Satoru is simply catching up, trying to stitch up the crater-sized hole in his memory with a familiar face. There’s no reason for your hand to shake as you sip your drink or for your eyes to keep darting back over to them, sat alone at a table like they’re the only people in here.

He’s laughing, throwing his head back and making that obnoxious cackle you love to hear. Loved. Because this one isn’t for you. It’s for her. The woman he shouldn’t be near, the woman he shouldn’t even think about, shouldn’t let touch his arm.

You’re the wife.

You’ve got the ring to prove it.

He’s wearing it. Just not on the hand attached to the arm strung over the back of her chair like he’s protecting her from the rest of the world. Hell, maybe he is. Maybe his infinity is on and covering her. But you don’t have it in you to throw something at them to find out. Either result would be just as humiliating as the other.

There’s nothing to be done.

You can’t interrupt.

Because Satoru needs to know what he said goodbye to all those years ago to know what he says ‘hey, pretty lady’ and ‘good morning, gorgeous’ to now. Or used to say. Now, you’re lucky if he even looks at you without shuffling his feet.

Eventually, the night draws to its natural end.

People bid their farewells twice, once to him and her, and then to you. Each time breaks your heart even more until you feel it crumble inside, little shards falling to pieces he won’t pick up. She stands before you, a small, shy smile, like she knows what she’s done. And says it’s ‘lovely to meet you’, and of course you can’t say it back.

Not when you had been introduced by your name, ‘my beautiful wife’ going nowhere near the tip of his tongue as if those words had never been uttered by your husband. And not when she had been introduced in a hastily withdrawn, stuttered freudian slip of hell.

“This is my girlfr— Sorry, I mean, my friend. From high school. Yeah, high school.”

Satoru blushes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he waves goodbye to her. And you can tell he finds the act lacklustre, an uninspired, unnatural way to say goodbye to the woman you woke up to and slept beside.

“Did you have a good time?”

He nods, a soft smile playing on his lip as he casts his gaze across the room, sweeping by the empty hall like he can still see every single person that came. “It was nice to see everyone and catch up.”

You’re thankful he doesn’t ask if you enjoyed the evening because you can’t lie to him but you also can’t tell the truth, can’t burden him anymore with the reminder that he doesn’t fill the shoes of your husband, that he continues to stumble with every step, dragging you down with him.

So, instead, you fill the silence with a question that is so harmless, so normal it slips out before you can even think to anticipate the devastating crack that goes through your very soul.

“Ready to go home?”

Satoru nods.

But he’s looking at a seat in the back.

A seat that’s probably still warm. A seat you could never fill because you aren’t the woman he thought, hoped, he would marry.

You’re just the woman he did.

#jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk drabble #jjk oneshot #Gojo Satoru #Gojo angst #Gojo x reader #Gojo oneshot

1K notes · View notes

ghostsprincess · 2 months ago

Text

I can't stop thinking about how much you would miss Simon while he's gone....

This is a continuation of part one and part two.

warning: adult language

💀

You were dreading going to work. Your arms felt heavy as you applied your makeup with a pout on your lips. No matter how hard you worked at it, your eyeliner looked a little smudged and your lipgloss was dull.

Simon was leaving tonight.

He'd never been inside your apartment. He'd never seen you in anything but your work clothes. He only interacted with you on nights when you had a shift at the pub. But you thought about him so much, it was like he had seeped into every aspect of your life. But he was leaving, and you knew he wouldn't give you any details. But it had to be for work. A new military assignment. All you knew for sure was the gnawing feeling in your gut that he would be risking his life.

Most of your shift has passed before he squeezed his shoulders through the doorway and found a stool at the bar. There was a smile plastered on your face all night, but it wasn't until you saw him that it was genuine.

"Simon," you sighed, already reaching for a pint glass to keep your fingers busy when pure happiness bubbled up inside you.

"Hi, love."

Everytime he called you that, his soft eyes lingered on your face. You didn't know when anyone would look at you that way again. His drink was set down, and his money was pushed away. You wouldn't take it. He drank his pint slowly, glaring at any other man whose gaze lingered your way for more than the barest few seconds. Than you let him know it was time for your shift to end.

Tonight both of you were silent. When you reached for his hand, he wrapped his fingers gently around yours. When you stood on your front step, shivering in the damp night air, he wrapped you up in his grasp.

"Ya' be good, love. Take care of yourself." His voice was so deep and warm, you shivered even more. "Tell Soap if ya' need something. He knows to take care of ya'."

There were so many questions brimming in your mind, but they were all silenced when his lips skimmed along your temple. You whimpered before Simon put a foot of space between your bodies, an intensity in his eyes you'd never seen before. Maybe he already knew what he meant to you by this point, but you couldn't say the words as tears stung your eyes.

"Please stay safe," you whispered, and he nodded toward your door.

"Get inside, love. I won't be gone long."

But he was.

At first, you smiled when Soap or Gaz showed up at the bar at the end of your shifts. They weren't anywhere near as imposing looking as Simon, but you knew your ex boyfriend wouldn't be lining up to mess with either of them. They seemed to rotate who walked you home. Conversation was easy with both of them, and they never touched you. When you asked them about Simon, they assured you he knew how to handle himself.

But one week turned into two and then three. You were starting to worry. "Have you heard anything from Simon?" you asked Soap one particularly cold night.

"Nah. He'll be back when he gets back. Try not to worry too much."

You paused before you asked him, "What did he say when he asked you and Gaz to make sure I got home safely from work?"

Soap's face split into a grin in the glow from a streetlight. "Hey, now that's between friends, ain't it?"

You weren't exactly sure what he meant, but you could feel your brow pucker with concern. "You really think he's okay?"

Soap laughed heartily. "That feckin' arsehole ain't gonna to miss the chance to keep walking you home from work. Trust in that much."

You nodded and unlocked your door, bidding him a good night before closing and locking it as tears burned your eyes.

Next thing you knew, Simon had been gone for six weeks. It was hard to keep up the chitchat with Gaz and Soap when each time you saw them, it was a reminder of who was missing. What if he never returned? Who would even inform you if something happened to him? Were you supposed to fret like this and curl into a tight ball alone as you fell asleep for weeks longer?

You daydreamed about what it would feel like to kiss Simon. You imagined his warmth snug against you in bed, heavy arm wrapped around your body. You thought about his voice, rough but sweet, telling you that he felt the same way you did.

But two months was a long time to go without his meticulous attention. And while it made you ache to see him again, perhaps it was having the opposite effect on him. Maybe he hasn't thought about you much, if at all. He was probably busy working around the clock, dedicated to the task at hand. His mind wouldn't be on the silly bartender back home who could barely handle herself around him.

It was hard to smile at work tonight. It wasn't very busy now that winter had fully arrived. Everyone seemed to prefer to huddle up at home this late when the wind was blowing. You'd prefer to be there right now too, instead of pouring a double whiskey and a glass of wine.

You were getting really close to the end of your shift, and there was still no sign of Soap or Gaz. Occasionally they arrived just in time to walk you home, but usually they got here early enough to plop down on a stool for a drink or two. You were longing for your bed, and the idea of having to hang out and wait for the escort you probably no longer needed felt daunting.

Your hands were tired from polishing the glassware, stacking it up below the bar top to help you pass the time. When the door opened, the brief rush of cold air made you shiver as you turned to greet the newcomer. But he was familiar in a way that made a smile break out on your face as a shot glass landed a little hard on the shelf when it slipped from your fingers.

"Hi, love."

He was back. He looked terrible. Bruised cheeks and a black eye decorated his face, but seeing him in person was still better than your best daydream. All you wanted to do was touch him.

"Simon!"You rushed through the opening in the bar, launching yourself into his arms. "I missed you." Without thinking, you ran your hands gently along his face. Without another word, you pressed your lips against his.

💀

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley cod #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost imagine #call of duty #ghost riley #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghostsprincess

1K notes · View notes

themidnightcrimson · 2 months ago

Text

malevolent ࿏ wm

summary: in which moving into a new house brings you horrors you never imagined.

words: 7.6k

warnings: forced breeding, strap-on, dubcon/noncon, demonic, horror, gore, top!wanda, evilmommydemoncockwanda4life

this is dark!fic for 18+ only. minors dni. read with discretion.

The day was cold and bleak. The air had a frostiness to it that manifested in a sheen of white over the long-dead grass that had yellowed at the passing of autumn. The leaves scattered around were no longer vibrant reds and oranges but rather dulled browns. The trees were barren—dark, crooked cracks in the grey skyline. You noticed a pack of buzzards eating at roadkill.

Death.

Christmas was just around the corner but, unlike everywhere else in the country, this town seemed to not be celebrating much. You’d noticed that the very first time you drove through—this sort of head-down feeling about the place that differed so much from what it looked like. The town itself was charming and cutesy with so many little shops and beautiful gathering spaces. It was colorful, too. But something about it seemed greyed, like a ghost town almost except the people were still there. They didn’t talk much, especially not to outsiders apparently. They only whispered to each other with concerned faces and low voices, like they were afraid something lingering around in the air would hear them. They held their children very close to them.

So it wasn’t exactly the neighborliness of Westview that attracted you to move there. The town felt like something very dark had happened in a place that otherwise was a great place to live.

To be quite honest, the housing market in that town had taken a sudden dip down in the past couple months. You didn’t understand the housing market and thought maybe people just didn’t like to buy houses in the winter, but there were a few neighborhood roads that had recent For Sale signs up in every yard. It’s like people were evacuating the town. Running from something.

There was a specific house, actually, that had taken a steep dip down in price. It was put up for sale a couple months ago for a shockingly low price. You were stunned when you found out there were no bids, no one who had showed interest since it’d been put up. It was a beautiful house, a perfect family home. Not that you had any family to put in it. It was just you, but you liked space.

And for a price that cheap? In a quiet town away from the city? You couldn’t pass up on it. You were anxious, anyways, to have somewhere to yourself. Crashing on your friend’s couch wasn’t exactly the most glamorous post-breakup living arrangements, but the apartment lease was in your ex’s name.

Now you stood, on this dreadful day, in front of that house. You couldn’t help but feel like the windows were eyes staring at you, measuring you the way you were measuring it. Evaluating, judging. Maybe your confidence was just shot from all you’d been through the past few months. You had a house now. It was time to make it into a home.

It didn’t so much seem like the dark energy of town had made its way into your house, but rather that the house was some sort of energy field pushing it out into the town. This was a strong assumption to make, but as soon as you walked into the front door, you could feel it. The air was thick with something more than just the dust of time. It was still. So still. You could feel the still air on your face like a thick cloud of smoke that wasn’t there. It was energy brimming all around you. It made your stomach turn.

You couldn’t lie and say that you didn’t feel this eerie energy when you viewed the house. You felt it from the very beginning, but you just needed somewhere, and this house was the only one in your budget.

Cursed, is what the local kids called it. It was cursed because of the family who lived there. When you questioned your real estate agent about it, she sort of brushed it off and said that they just disappeared, that whatever happened to them, happened outside of this home.

You were reluctant to believe that story, but you were a skeptic anyways. If a young family had been axe murdered here or something, it was still just wood and brick to you.

The first few days in the house were busy. The moving company was taking all your stuff from your ex’s apartment and moving it into your house, which meant you had to deal with her calling you and screaming that she definitely bought that chair even though you distinctly remembered ordering it for the living room. You hated having to speak with her, with all her narcissistic tendencies. As much as you mourned the relationship, you mourned how stupid you were for ever putting up with so much for so long.

The house apparently was built in the 50’s and hadn’t been touched since besides the usual renovations every decade or so, which you enjoyed. Older houses had so much more character, like the adorable little partition window between the living room and the kitchen. You opened and closed the little shutters, imagining what 50’s housewife used this for so many years.

So you didn’t have much time to dwell on that eerie energy in the house while the movers brought everything in, until they left. And it was just you and those walls.

Luckily you could focus on unpacking all the boxes stacked around. You did so dutifully, and since you really had nothing else to do, you finished pretty quickly. By the next day you were untaping the last box which was full of random childhood artifacts. Trying to think of where you could put these things that you wanted to keep but didn’t really want just lying around, you suddenly realized that this house had an attic. The agent had vaguely pointed to it previously but you had never went up there.

Going upstairs, you opened the attic ladder and carefully climbed up the rickety thing, instantly inhaling thick layers of dust as your head entered the dark attic. To your surprise, you saw a few boxes lying around.

“Huh,” you murmured with interest as you swatted away cobwebs, the floor dangerously creaking beneath you as you approached the boxes. Whoever took the previously family’s stuff out of the house must have forgotten about the attic, which you found strange. Were they in that much of a hurry to get in and out?

Crouching down, you wiped the thick layer of dust off the box. How much dust could have accumulated in a matter of months?

None of the boxes were taped, only folded shut. Was it wrong of you to look through their stuff, especially since they were basically considered dead? To be fair, the house was yours now, and you needed to put some stuff up here. So you opened the box and looked inside.

This one was full of different colors of fabric. A red fabric crown of some sort, green tights, a blue headband, a can of silver spray paint for hair. Halloween costumes? All of superhero-esque kind?

Opening another box, this time you find some sort of fake lobster. A doorknocker? There’s some baby stuff in there too—a book about the psychological effects of pregnancy, a crib mobile made of butterflies. You go through all this stuff, the usual family keepsakes that the mother was too sentimental to throw away, until you suddenly come across something starkly different.

A book, but a different kind of book. It’s at the bottom of the box, and it’s heavy. The front is dark and somewhat torn with strange inscriptions on it. Heaving it out of the box, it falls into your lap with a cloud of black dust. What the hell did a family have to do with this? It looked more like a Halloween decoration than anything.

Mindlessly flipping it open, you saw that the pages were full of language you did not understand. Markings, almost, like hieroglyphics. Symbols. You come across a page that has the only recognizable thing you see—the figure of a woman, hair flowing, seeming to levitate on the page. This page is much darker than the rest, and the corners more torn. Like whoever read this book always seemed to seek out this specific page.

A sudden popping noise that sounded like weight on a floorboard startled you, made the book fall (it felt more like it leaped) out of your hands. You turned around to see nothing but the dark empty attic.

It was much too creepy up there.

Leaving your box of childhood memories up there and deciding to swap it out for this strange dark book, you carefully climbed back down the ladder and closed it.

The air felt thicker than ever now. Vibrating. Like it had just woken up.

࿏

You were mostly settled. Things still felt weird in the house, even after you put up every decoration you owned, but you figured it would go away with time. You’d been living off takeout the whole two weeks, hence the pile of Chinese takeout boxes in the corner of the kitchen. Deciding to go shopping to have some real food in the house, you pulled on your jacket and stepped out into the bitingly cold air. There was even a harsh wind, too, that made your nose hurt. Hugging yourself, you walked down your driveway and noticed a woman standing in the yard of the house next to yours. It was one of the few houses still lived in on the street, and you hadn’t even seen your new neighbor until now.

It was a middle-aged woman checking her mailbox. You struggled internally to decide if you should say hi or not, knowing that being all alone in a strange town was probably not the best idea, but something told you to just keep walking. You almost made it to your car until suddenly you could see her head snap towards you out of the corner of your eye. Instinctively, you froze, looking across the yard at her and seeing that she squinted her eyes suspiciously at you.

“H-hello,” you weakly greeted, shivering from the cold.

“Who are you?” the woman called out loudly, turning her body fully towards you now as if she was braced to defend herself. Great, a crazy neighbor.

“I’m y/n. I just moved in.” You tried to give a smile as you pointed to the house.

Looking between you and the house, the woman hesitated before walking towards you. Wishing you’d just ran to your car and left, you tried to be polite as she approached you.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she said gruffly, sticking out her hand which shook yours rather aggressively. You noticed now something neon green on her hip—a watergun? “Detective Agnes. I work for the FBI. I’m working on a murder case here.” She pulled out a black wallet and flipped it open towards you. You knew that there was supposed to be a gold FBI badge there, but it was only a CostCo membership card for someone named Ralph.

“Oh,” you mumbled as she sighed officially and put her “badge” back in her pocket. She was also wearing a purple shirt with a picture of Dolly Parton and the word “Jolene” on it. Who the hell was this woman?

“Better be careful, newbie,” she said, pointing to your house. “The kids love to egg this house. Don’t worry though, I’ve got top of the line security system.” She nodded proudly and pointed to the roof of her house, which you noticed had one solitary print-only Polaroid camera haphazardly duct taped to it.

“Oh,” was all you could say again, feeling the intense urge to run away.

“Unfortunately the department frowns on tasering the little shits even though it’s what those punks need to set them straight,” she said, stretching and tapping on the other side of her hip, which had a toy car on it that she apparently thought was a taser.

Nodding slowly, you started backing away to your car. “Okay, well, it’s nice to meet you.”

“You, too, young lady. Be safe out here. It’s a crime-ridden place.” She dramatically looked around the nice, quiet neighborhood as if she was looking at Gotham City and went back to her mailbox. You got in your car and sped away.

Westview only had a tiny market in town. It was liminal with its old linoleum floors and flickering green LED lights that buzzed overhead. It smelled slightly of rotting meat. You wondered if you could steal Detective Agnes’ fake CostCo card.

It was deserted in there, too, besides the drunk clerk with a scruffy beard who stared blankly at you. This was the point where you started to realize the citizens here did not take well to new people.

In fact, you had noticed the only other shopper in there seemed to be following you around. You didn’t feel in danger, given that it was just an older lady in a sweater buying fig newtons, until suddenly she came out from the other aisle and slammed her cart into yours.

“Hey!” you yelled out, looking at the older lady with short blonde hair.

“Get out while you still can!” she whisper-yelled, her eyes pleading. “You’re going to die!”

“Excuse me?”

“Run! Get out of that house, get out of this town! Wanda! She’s going to kill you! She’s going to kill us all!”

She was screaming now, eyes tearing up, knuckles turning white as she gripped her cart. You stared at her, wondering if you should call the police, until suddenly her face changed into a pleasant one.

“Ope! Sorry, dear! These carts have a mind of their own!” She let out a cheery little cackle before wheeling her cart away, going down the aisle to look at the Pop Tarts.

You stood there dumbfounded for a moment before deciding to just leave and go to Eastview for your shopping needs.

࿏

Your ex thought you weren’t worth much, but you knew she had to miss your cooking. Cooking was an art to you, a hobby you enjoyed sharpening your skills in. Tonight, since you’d been living off of leftover orange chicken for days, you were making a nice ribeye with lemon green beans and garlic mashed potatoes. A comfort meal. Maybe it would cheer up the angst-imbued house.

The interaction with your neighbors, specifically with the lady at the market, was unsettling. Why was she telling you to get out of that house? Who the hell was Wanda and why was she going to kill everybody? Was everyone in that town cracked out or out of their mind?

It was a little cozier, admittedly, as you were cooking that night. The kitchen had plenty of space for all your cooking tools and equipment, which you had a lot of. They were precious to you, so you had spent almost an entire day arranging them in all the drawers and cabinets.

You limited the lighting in the kitchen to the oven range and the little lamp in the living room. Setting your phone up, you let classical music fill the air as you prepped your steak while your potatoes finished boiling.

You felt calm and at home for the first time in a long time.

Until you started hearing a strange clicking noise.

Your first instinct was to check the oven since this was your first time using it. The clicking was not coming from there. You listened all around in the kitchen until you realized it was coming from the living room. Looking through the partition, you saw that the floor lamp on the other side of the living room was flickering.

Your pot of potatoes steaming and boiling, your steak left on the counter, you emanated through the flip door into the living room. You had just put a bulb in that lamp—no way it was dying already.

The closer you got to the lamp, the more it flickered. Faster and faster, causing your stomach to fold into anxious knots, until finally you lunged and turned it off all together. The room dark now, you caught your breath that you didn’t even notice was quickened.

You reached and turned it back on to find that it was no longer flickering. It must have been a weird glitch with the bulb. You were about to turn away when it suddenly clicked off by itself.

“What the fuck?” you say, reaching to turn it back on when it clicked right back on by itself. Taking a step away as fear imbued you, your eyes widened when the bulb in the lamp started getting brighter.

“What the fuck?” you say again, reaching to turn it off only to find that the bulb was so hot it burned your fingers. “Ow!” Stepping away, you watched in horror as the bulb kept getting brighter and brighter, filling up the entire room with light so that every corner and shadow was lit. You could see everything. And then it got so bright that you couldn’t see well. Your eyes burned, your skin burned with the heat of the bulb. The lamp was shaking where it stood, the fabric of the lampshade starting to burn up to expose the hot bulb even more. Even the metal pole was starting to melt where the bulb sat on it. You could hear the classical music playing from your phone in the kitchen, except that it was frenzied, angered, violent now.

It got brighter and brighter until your face was red hot and your hair felt like it was about to catch fire and all you could see was bright hot white, and you screamed a silent scream “STOP!”

With a loud electrical popping noise, the bright white faded away. You were blinded now, everything pitch dark, the heat replaced with a sudden coolness as the bulb popped and sparked on the lamp where the shade had half melted off. When you could finally see again, you unplugged the lamp and stepped away from it.

“What the fuck?” you said for the third time this night, heart beating fast as you rubbed your hot, aching eyes as your vision came back to you.

Before you could even process what had happened with the lamp, you looked over at the partition window and froze. Your heart stopped in your chest. Every hair on your arm stood up. Your eyes instantly watered with fear.

As you stood across the living room, staring through the partition window into the kitchen, you saw that every single cabinet and drawer in the kitchen was fully opened. All of your cooking tools, all the utensils and knives and equipment, hung suspended in the air right above or in front of the drawer or cabinet you had them in. It was like they were all on strings. And where your dining table was, all 3 chairs were hung upside down in the air above the table.

The air felt alive now. So alive you could feel its heartbeat, feel its breath down your neck, feel it on your skin. It was watching you, taunting you, burning eyes into you. There was something else there with you as you stared at all your kitchen stuff hanging in the air by themselves like they were on pulleys. But they were all so still. Nothing swayed or trembled.

A sigh breezed against the back of your neck. And then everything fell.

All of it dropped, every tool and utensil, every chair. It dropped like dead weight from where it hung, like gravity had suddenly been turned back on. It was deafeningly loud, all the metal tools clanging against the hard tile floor and countertops. Even your boiling pot of potatoes went down with a loud splash of steaming water. It was a deafening clatter, pure chaos as all of your stuff went right down to the floor. Even the chairs cracked onto the ground as they dropped heavily.

Things rolled and trembled until finally it all came to a stop. The air no longer felt as thick, but it was still there. It was silent now except for the eerie classical music still playing from your phone, calmly now.

You didn’t know what to do, or think, or feel. You felt fear. You felt confusion. Fingers trembling, you took frightened steps forward towards the kitchen, unsure of what lied in wait for you in there. Flipping open the door, you expected something to get you. You could feel it, you swore. Watching you. You swore you saw something dark swoop down under the surface of the island counter, but nothing was there. It was just you and all your broken tools and chairs. You avoided stepping on the mushed potatoes that still steamed as you walked through the warzone.

On the counter, your steak laid where you left it. Except that it was bleeding now, covered in thick, black blood that oozed out of it. It dripped down the counter, covered your floor. The center of the steak seemed to throb. Too much blood for just a ribeye, and when you touched it, it was warm.

࿏

Not that you had anyone to tell, but you didn’t speak of what happened. Dumbfounded, you numbly cleaned the mess up and went to bed. After the steak, you couldn’t eat beef for a week.

The house felt different now. Still eerie and angsty, but not as devoid as it did at first. Whatever devoid feeling had been filled the day you went into the attic was angered since the day in the kitchen. It felt like the house was resentful, like it was going to snap at any moment and swallow you. Even the doors kept slamming on your fingers when you tried to close them.

You thought about the lady in the market. Couldn’t stop thinking about her. Something very bad had happened in that house.

“Wanda?” Detective Agnes repeated when you asked her about it. You saw her in her backyard, duct taping another Polaroid camera to her patio. You spoke to her over the fence. It was gnawing at you to know what had happened. “Where did you hear that name?” she asked gruffly, perking up and approaching you at the fence, causing you to take a few steps back.

“Some lady at the store,” you blurted. “She was saying something about a Wanda, like it had to do with my house.”

Agnes squinted her eyes at you, and then she suddenly perked up as if she was listening to something. She grabbed a nearly all-brown banana from her hip and put it up to her mouth like a walkie talkie, speaking in a deep voice. “312 on the move. Dealing with concerned civilian. Be there at 1600 hours.” She tucked the banana back into her belt. “You wanna know about Wanda?”

You nodded, wondering if you should even trust what she has to say.

Agnes sucked at her lip and then blurted, “She’s dead. But you didn’t get that from me.”

“I kind of figured… Did she live here?”

Agnes tilted her head. “And what do you plan on doing with that information, huh? You trying to blackmail a federal officer?”

You raised your hands and backed away. “Look lady, I just live here and want to know why everyone is being so weird about the house I just bought.”

“Look,” Agnes interrupted you, “Wanda Maximoff was found dead in the woods. She’s gone, deadso, totally corpsed out, alright? I’ve got her on an operating table over at the morgue if you don’t believe me.”

You shook your head. “But she lived in my house?”

Then Agnes did something weird. She spoke, “I don’t know.” But she nodded her head.

You looked at her in confusion. “What?”

“I said, I don’t know!” she yelled, but she nodded her head again. The expression on her face was angry, but there was something wrong with her eyes. They were almost… pleading. But like she didn’t realize it.

That conversation didn’t make you feel any better about the situation. And when you got home to find that the old book you’d brought down from the attic was sitting on the coffee table open like something had been reading it, you weren’t exactly comforted.

It was turned to that same page, the one with the figure of a woman wearing a crown. Feeling aggravated with the lack of knowledge you were getting from both the internet and your neighbor, you slammed it shut and threw it under the couch, out of sight. If there was something in this house fucking with you, you would not just lay down and take it.

Things continued to feel off in the house. Your TV kept going off and on at random times. Doors slamming, footsteps in the hall at night, knocking on the walls. None of it felt as aggressive as that night in the kitchen, though. You’d come to terms that you had picked a slightly haunted house, though you still didn’t truly believe in all that stuff. But as a logical, sensible person, you knew that there was something strange causing all these strange occurrences that couldn’t be overlooked.

But when all the little events were mostly docile and didn’t get in the way of your usual living, you just carried on. You wouldn’t forgive what happened that night in the kitchen, but you could live with it and try to forget it. Even though you had to buy so much new kitchen stuff.

That was until you were cleaning one day and picked up that old dark book from under the couch so that you could vacuum. You set it on the coffee table and kept on cleaning, forgetting to put it back in its place of hiding.

That night, with a clean house, you decided to take a nice relaxing bath. You lit candles all around the bathroom and turned off the light as the tub filled with hot water. There’d been more flickering lights and knocking on the walls that evening, but you were starting to get used to it. It was an old house, after all. Maybe it was all just your imagination, and it was all very explainable in a scientific way.

But this event marked a point where you could no longer believe that.

As you laid in the tub, muscles relaxing under the hot water, you opened your eyes momentarily and saw something strange. In the water where you lay, you saw foggy threads of red floating through the water.

Were you bleeding?

Sitting up sharply, you check yourself all over. No marks, no wounds or cuts, no time of the month, but there’s trails of blood floating in the water.

Your heart starts to quicken as the air grows thick around you again, that same feeling as the one that night with the lamp. It swarms you.

“Stop,” you whisper, watching more and more blood appear from nowhere in the water, making the water turn crimson red.

Glancing at the reflective metal surface of the bathtub faucet, your heart stops when you see, in the warped reflection, some shadow of black sitting right behind you in the tub.

That’s when you scream and leap out of the water, nearly slipping on the tile floor as you freak out. There obviously was no one or nothing sitting behind you in the tub, but you most certainly saw the dark reflection of one.

The lightbulb above you starts flickering, even though the light was not turned on.

The blood in the water had gone, but during your jump out of the water your foot had pulled the stopper up. The water was draining now, very loudly, making a deep guttural sound as the water drained quickly. When it was all gone, it was silent.

Something dark appeared at the wide-open hole of the drain. It looked liquid at first, like some black substance was oozing out of the drain onto the white porcelain of the tub, but when it started rising up out of the hole and moving in a very alive way, you realized it was fingers.

Blackened fingers rose out of the drain, wiggling, pulling up a hand along with it. The fingernails were sharpened, the slender hand feminine even with its charcoal fingers.

You screamed when a whole arm shot out of the drain and grabbed at the side of the tub.

All you could think to do was run out of the bathroom and slam the door shut, holding onto the knob and listening as you heard the sickly wet sounds of something being pulled out of the drain and slapping against the wet tub, and even the sound of it stepping over the tub onto the floor. Heavy breathing with effort. Distorted wet footsteps across tile floor.

You wanted to run and call the police, but then you felt the knob gently turn in your hand. This bathroom door did not have a lock.

With some sort of screech of breath, whatever thing that was behind the door pulled hard at the knob. Screaming, you pulled the door back shut before you could see whatever was on the other side, wanting to rather die than to actually see what it was. The thing wrestled with you over the door, pulling hard and fast. You held on with all your strength, hands still wet from the bath, putting your foot against the threshold for more leverage. The air was screaming now, loud in your ears, a heartbeat that was not your own beating from inside your own brain. The lights were all flickering, and the house felt like it was closing in on you.

The thing pulled and pulled, screaming and screaming until it got the best of you. The knob slipped out of your hands, and the door swung wide open.

Instinctively, you slapped your hands over your eyes. You didn’t want to see. You didn’t want to see. You didn’t want to see. You’d rather die than see.

Breathing heavily, you waited for something to get you, because you were certain that whatever was in your house was trying to do that all along.

But nothing came.

Inhaling oxygen and exhaling bravery, you tried to ignore all the visions your brain guessed that you would see, and parted your fingers. Through the slit in your fingers you saw… nothing. The bathroom was empty. The tub was drained but clean. The flame of the candles all around were perfectly still.

But then you heard a creaking noise from behind you. Slowly, breath held, trembling, you turned around and raised your eyes.

A black figure clung to the ceiling. It was the shape of a person with soft edges. It was a shadow, in human form.

It jumped down at you.

With a scream, you buckled to the floor and covered your head, trying to shield yourself. Nothing touched you. You bravely opened your eyes again and looked all around only to not see the black figure anywhere. There was nothing but you, naked and wet on the floor.

The air felt empty again. The thing had come and gone. You were safe.

For now.

࿏

It was hard to feel settled after that. Things got more aggressive. It was like whatever demon was with you had finally laid eyes on you and was set to get you now. You couldn’t find that book anywhere. It wasn’t on the coffee table nor under the couch. You looked everywhere to no avail.

Detective Agnes knocked on your door one night to tell you that someone had been lurking at a window at the side of your house. She was holding a full-size Nerf Super Soaker and said that she had tried to snipe the suspect wearing all-black but they had somehow jumped into your closed window (hence the sound of spraying water you had heard on your window). She demanded to look through the house, which she did and found nothing. You’re pretty sure she swiped a pair of your underwear, though. She taped a Polaroid camera to your roof for good measure and said she took photos of “damning” evidence which included unconcerning pictures of your flowerbed. You knew it wasn’t a person, but rather a thing lurking from within the window.

Nights were the worst. You had never been someone to be so scared, but you could barely sleep from how hard your heart thumped with fear as you lay in bed at night.

A few nights after the bathroom event, you managed to halfway fall asleep somewhere around 3 AM when you suddenly heard loud banging coming from within the walls. Waking up with a shot of anxiety in your chest, you heard the banging again, loud and clear, like someone trying to break down a wall from the inside.

Feeling frozen, you forced yourself to sit up when you fully froze at the sight of something horrific. In the corner of your bedroom, right beside the window, was that dark figure hiding in the shadows. It seemed more formed this time. You could see the outline of hips, hands, legs. The worst part was that you could see two red eyes gleaming at you in the dark.

“Go away!” you instinctively yelled, but it came out barely audible due to the lump in your throat.

The figure slowly came forward, and the moonlight from the window casted over it.

It was some creature of a woman. She was decrepid, slightly hunched over. Her eyes were red and glowing, her mouth set wide open as if her jaw has been broken off. But where her face would have been… Where her face would have been, her skin had been stretched upward into two points, like her skin had been stretched over horns, or over a crown. She was unnaturally tall and skinny, her skin pale and yellowed.

Dark red hair laid at her shoulders, and she was wearing some torn and ratted red suit. Her hands were deformed, long and sharp and bony, blackened at the ends. The horrible smell of death and blood suddenly filled your nostrils, making you gag and cover your nose. The creature smelled of death and appeared deformed, demonic, monstrous, evil.

“Who are you?” you questioned, trying to think of what to say or do. This thing must have been some sort of manifestation of the thing that had been torturing you, and so you say the only name you know. “Wanda?”

The creature erupted into a monstrous screech so loud you nearly went deaf, and in a flash, she lunged fast at you. You swore you could feel her push you down onto the bed when you suddenly sit back up, coming out of a horrible nightmare.

You were sweating through the sheets, panting, looking all around your empty bedroom. Had it been just a dream?

Feeling a sting at your shoulder, you look at it to see a bloody claw mark there, so deep it was already dripping blood.

Once the demon had first seen you in the bathroom, she got more aggressive. Now she had tasted your blood… What was going to happen now?

As you expected, everything got worse. The knocking and footsteps got more violent than ever, doors slamming on you, knives throwing themselves across the kitchen towards you. This thing was trying to get you.

You leased an apartment in Eastview as quickly as you could.

You couldn’t move in for a week, so you were stuck there with that thing trying to murder you. Your friend you had been crashing with was on holiday, but you could not stand to sleep alone in that house. So you asked the only person you could think of…

“No worries, tuts,” Agnes said as she strode into your bedroom with an armful of blankets and pillows. “It’s my job to keep my fellow citizens safe.” She threw her blankets and pillows down on the ground right at the foot of your bed.

Awkwardly, you watched her make a pallet. “You know, I have a couch downstairs… That might be best so you can, you know, watch the front door.” You had told her you were having fears of break-ins and just needed someone to stay with you for a night or two.

“No, no, I can do my job best from right here,” she said as she plopped down onto the pallet. “Besides, these nights can get a little…” She undid her police jacket, which was actually just a varsity jersey jacket with the name Bohner on the back, as she looked up at you with a smirk. “Lonely…”

You just stared down at her, with her banana and water gun. “Okay, Agnes.”

Honestly, the night went better with Agnes there. There wasn’t any knocking or footsteps, no creatures in your corner. It was just Agnes’ obnoxiously loud snoring like a lawnmower right in your bedroom that kept you awake, but eventually you drifted off.

You had dreams of red. Of red and blood behind your eyes. Voices, names, memories, all in red. You don’t know what it was that jolted you awake, but something did, and when you flapped open your eyes, you saw her.

She was on your ceiling.

Red scarlet hair hanging down. Her face was not malformed this time, but rather, it was somewhat beautiful. Even with the glowing red eyes and darkness.

“Wanda,” you whispered, somehow knowing for sure that this was her. Wanda, the woman who had died, who had a family in the house you bought, who had been torturing you for weeks. Her fingers, black, clung to the ceiling as if that’s what kept her there, but you could tell it was magic. It was the same magic that froze your body and made you unable to move as she slowly drifted down the ceiling, closer to you, until she hovered right above you.

She didn’t seem real. This beautiful ghost, demon, whatever she was, her nose so close to yours, breathing over you with red eyes full of desire.

“You opened the Darkhold,” she spoke in deep unnatural voice without moving her lips. “You beckoned me.”

You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t move a muscle in your body except your mouth. “No, I didn’t…” You thought of the old dark book. You had opened it.

“I can live on…” she spoke, reaching out her hand to touch you. It landed on your stomach, causing you to jump. You could feel her hand. You felt silly for expecting it to just go right through you. Her skin was touching your stomach over your shirt. It made you feel fear and excitement at the same time. “I have a womb now.”

Your eyebrows sewed together. “A womb?”

Chills filled you as Wanda’s lips stretched open in a wide grin that was too perfect to be real. Her face looked fake suddenly, like it was just a pretty human mask put over the real face of something horrible. “A womb for my children,” she said without moving her lips.

Suddenly, your legs were spread wide open in the air. You let out a scream of shock and fear, which made Agnes’ snoring finally stop. Agnes jumped up, stumbling, holding her Super Soaker. Her eyes widened when she saw the demon hovering over you.

“Get down!” Agnes yelled to you as she held up the Nerf gun and sprayed a sharp stream of water at Wanda. To your surprise, once the water hit the demon, it steamed and burned. Wanda hissed and turned to Agnes, levitating upright in the air as Agnes continued to spraying her.

Getting out her banana, Agnes yelled, “664 we need backup over here! I repeat! 664 we’ve got a code red!”

Wanda lifted her hand. Agnes rose up into the air, and with a flick of Wanda’s wrist, she was flung right out of the second-floor window.

Wanda turned back to you, and fear jumped at your spine again. Now it was just you and her.

Flying back towards you, she used her magic to peel the sheets off of you, settling herself down on the bed over you.

“What are you doing?!” you cried out as she somehow tore your clothes off your body, exposing your skin to her.

Her hand immediately went between your legs, groping at your core. “I have been waiting so long for you, detka,” she spoke, her voice sounding a little more natural. Her eyes, once robotic and blank, looked softer now. You couldn’t tell if it was real or not.

You tried to squirm but her magic kept you still. Her hand was expert—she rubbed circles at your clit as her other hand snaked up over your stomach, up to your breast which she groped. “The perfect vessel,” she whispered. “I can live on. I can have my children again,” she repeated as she slid her hand down to your tummy again, her hand glowing red. “Your womb is so fertile. I could feel it when you first arrived.”

Your head was spinning as this demon woman worked at your pussy, pinching your clit and slipping two fingers inside which made you yelp. She was gentle yet firm at the same time, somehow knowing exactly what would make you feel good. You were getting wet for her—you could hear it in the wet sloshing sound that your pussy made as she pumped her fingers in and out of you, curling them at their deepest length.

“Fuck,” you breathed, your head feeling suddenly very hot, as if a fever suddenly set upon you.

“You are so good,” she breathed, voice deeper this time as she adjusted where she sat between your legs, now kneeling over you. Suddenly, something large formed at her crotch. It was a strap—long and maroonish red with charcoal darkness at the tip.

“What are you—”

Wanda grinned and shushed you as she stroked her length, red magic glowing from within her strap. “Be a good, quiet vessel, detka.”

Something evil was showing through in her eyes.

“Wanda—”

She used her magic to shut your mouth so that you could only make muffled noises as the demon nestled between your hips, using her hands to spread your thighs further open. She wanted you as open for her as you could be.

Frightened but also some sickly form of turned on, you watched as the demon stroked her cock and brought it to your entrance which she had prepped and made soaking wet for herself. Her cock was larger than anything you’d ever taken. It was throbbing with magic.

The tip pushed through your entrance painfully, and you cried out through the magic covering your mouth as the demon suddenly pushed her entire cock inside you, ripping open your walls. Pain seared through your human body as the demon forced her way inside you, but when she passed a hand over your head, the pain suddenly went away. It turned more into a feeling of butterflies, of throbbing, of pleasure. You could feel blood leaking down your thighs, but she had taken away your pain.

“You are going to give me such beautiful children,” Wanda murmured, cupping your chin with her dark hand as she started to thrust her hips, pumping herself inside you. The pressure came against your cervix in a hot flash of pleasure each time. She was so long and so large, fucking herself so deep inside you that your stomach bulged. The demon pressed her hand on the bulge and cackled, feeling herself fuck you from inside.

You could feel everything, how deep she was, how the ridges of her strap glided against your walls, the way your stomach bulged with each thrust. Your pussy was being stretched open around her demon cock, taking every single inch no matter how girthy.

“The perfect bride,” Wanda said, her demon voice showing through as she started to fuck you harder. Her hand slapped around your throat, holding you down and halfway choking you as her thrusts became quicker and quicker, demonic grunts coming from her. You could feel yourself tightening inside, preparing for what was about to come.

The demon’s cock seemed to swell inside you, forcing you to stretch even more. Sickly squelching noises filled the air. Blood was all over the bed now. You felt nothing but electric, all-consuming pleasure.

“Stay still,” Wanda said as she choked you harder. “You’re going to take all of my seed. You’re going to give me such beautiful children, my beautiful bride.”

She went harder and harder, fucking deep into your womb until finally, the energy broke. She let out a guttural noise, and you could feel her cock go rigid inside you before a load of warmth filled you deep inside. As you shook from your own blinding orgasm, you couldn’t even see the fact that your tummy bulged as the demon kept filling you with her seed which glowed red from inside you.

Sighing, Wanda relaxed against you, keeping her cock inside you. It was still swollen, stuck inside your cunt. “I’m going to keep myself here until I know it takes.” She smiled for real this time as she stroked your glowing, swollen tummy. You were more than feverish now as you felt things start to change inside you at an inhuman speed. You could feel it taking, feel your tummy swelling more and more.

You didn’t know that once you birthed, she would slaughter you like breeding cattle.

#wanda maximoff x reader #themidnightcrimson #crimsonween #halloween #kinktober #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff #lesbian #scarlet witch #scarlet witch x reader #demonic #horror #dark!wanda #dark!fic

2K notes · View notes

whytheylosttheirminds · 3 months ago

Text

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 5 (part one)

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 4.8k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

Sometime in the night, you woke up shivering.

You didn’t typically sleep naked, you usually opted for something oversized and flannel, choosing comfy over cute everytime. You had taken off your clothes just to tease Rafe, and fallen asleep with a triumphant smile on your face, now you were shivering so hard your teeth were rattling.

After pulling on a t-shirt and sweats, you settled back in bed, but sleep escaped you. You tossed and turned thinking about the look on Rafe’s face when you took your clothes off in front of him, the way he was squeezing the pillow in his arms so tightly you thought it might pop. He kept his distance, didn’t push to stay or snap at you, even though you were giving him every reason to. It was a stark contrast to the tone in Tom’s voice when you’d turned down his sleepover proposition.

Maybe Rafe had changed. There was something different about him, something softer.

What felt like hours passed as Rafe occupied your mind and you still couldn’t fall back to sleep. You remembered you’d seen some sleepytime tea in the kitchen, so you got up and made your way to the door.

You almost tripped on him, stopping short just inches from stepping right on his hand.

Holding back a yelp, you looked down at the obstruction; Rafe, curled up with the pillow you’d given him, asleep in front of your door. The blanket from your closet was still folded at his feet, apparently he hadn’t intended on settling here for the night.

Something warm and bright flooded your chest at the sight of him. He so badly wanted to stay close to you that he hadn’t even made it down to the couch.

Ever since you’d known him, Rafe was like a storm, overwhelming and unpredictable. From the day you first saw him on the school bus, you made yourself a storm chaser, studying the clouds, looking for signs that the wind was about to pick up, hoping that someday the sky might clear. Looking down at him as his body rose and fell with peaceful breaths, his broad shoulders curled inward as he held the pillow with both hands, it occurred to you that maybe in the years you’d stopped chasing him, the storm had finally passed. These past few days, the faintest rays of sunlight were breaking their way through to your heart. Part of you worried you’d miss the thunder.

Unable to help yourself, you crouched low and ever so gently brushed his hair back from his forehead, adoring the little whistles that escaped his parted lips with each breath. He didn’t stir at your touch, sound asleep. Whatever activity he had busied himself with today must have really tired him out. You decided you’d make him a cup of tea as well, and maybe when he woke, you’d invite him to share it with you in your room.

You pulled the blanket up over him and padded excitedly down to the kitchen.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

A draft of cold air blew through the vent right next to Rafe’s head, stirring him awake. He groaned immediately, his hip bone digging painfully into the hard floor. It took him a full minute after sitting up and rubbing his eyes to realize where he was. Then it all came back at once, in flashes of you. Your eyes met his as you let your hair down, took your clothes off, climbed into bed, bid him goodnight and he - shit. He’d actually fallen asleep on the floor.

Rafe scrambled to his feet, embarrassment washing over him, and pain from the uncomfortable way his body had been twisted shooting up his spine. He turned slowly to see that at some point, your door had been opened just a crack. Excitement rushed through him, maybe he was reaching a bit, maybe he was delusional, but could opening the door have been your silent invitation for him to come back in?

Hesitantly, he reached out and pushed the door open a smidge further. His excitement dwindled when he saw that your bed was empty. He checked his phone, it was 3:22 am. Where could you possibly have gone at 3:22 am?

When five minutes passed, then ten, and you still hadn’t returned, he gave in to his greatest concern; that you were sleeping in someone else’s room. And even worse, that in your quest to find someone else to spend your night with, you’d stepped right over him. It was a knee-jerk reaction, but he didn’t want to wait around to find out if his theory was true.

He left the pillow and blanket behind, dragging his feet as he ambled down to the den.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

In the dim light of the kitchen stove, you boiled a kettle of hot water, quick to turn off the burner when it squealed with steam, afraid to wake up the whole house. While you waited for your tea to steep, you meandered out to the patio, picking up the furniture that had been strewn about and inhaling the crisp sea air. The hours after a big storm were always your favorite in the Outer Banks, Florida’s shore proved to be just as peaceful. Cast in darkness, you pulled your arms around yourself and looked at the stars.

After a few minutes, you returned to the kitchen, but the light above the stove had been mysteriously turned off. You smiled to yourself as you ascended the stairs carefully, carrying two mugs of hot tea, excited to tell Rafe your new theory that there was a ghost in the kitchen.

But when you got to your room, he was nowhere to be found. He’d left the crumpled pillow and bunched up blanket behind, assuring you that he really had been there just a few minutes ago, you hadn’t imagined it. Your heart dropped. Maybe he regretted falling asleep outside your room, maybe he was annoyed that you’d pulled the blanket over him like a child.

You suddenly felt stupid for bringing him tea, for thinking he’d wake with a sleepy smile and thank you for the gesture. You brought the tea to the bathroom sink and poured it down the drain, steam clouding the mirror as you looked back at yourself with shame. Of course he’d left. It was you, why would he stay?

Tears sprang from your eyes with no warning, and you were overwhelmed with the need to hug your sister.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Carter slept soundly in her room, which was nearly identical to yours, aside from the piles of clothes and clutter she’d managed to accumulate in the three days you’d been here. Her room in your childhood home always looked like a bomb had gone off. You smiled affectionately as you climbed over the mountains of stuff. Her room was even colder than yours, so you reached around in the dark until you felt a large hoodie and pulled it over your head.

She stirred as you got comfy under her covers, opening her eyes just enough to make out the fuzzy shape of you in the darkness.

“Y’okay?” She yawned.

“I’m fine,” you whispered. “Just missed ya.”

“Do you need to talk?” She attempted to sit up and look at you, trying to say something else, but you shushed her and guided her to lay back down.

Without argument, she snuggled into your side. With her calming presence so close, you finally fell back asleep.

You awoke a few hours later with her eyes focused on you.

“Jesus Christ, Car,” you jumped. “That’s so creepy.”

“You just looked so peaceful,” she held up her phone, showing you that she’d snapped a picture of you sleeping with your cheek squished against the pillow and posted it on her Close Friends story.

“Lovely,” you groaned, shuffling to get comfortable again.

“Why’d you come in here?” She asked.

“Sorry I woke you up.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she assured you. “You can always come find me. You just looked kind of upset when you did.”

With a sigh, you turned to lay on your side, facing her.

Growing up, you’d have sleepovers in each other’s rooms all the time, laying in each other’s beds just like you were now, chatting and laughing until your mom came in and yelled at you to go to sleep.

Right now, recreating your favorite childhood memory, was the happiest you had been all week.

“Some…things happened last night,” you told her reluctantly.

If she wasn’t awake before, she sure was now.

“Omg, some Tom things?”

“Kind of.”

“Uh-oh, what does that mean?”

“Nothing too bad, just kinda…weird,” you looked away from her, and she could tell something was off.

“Okay?” she said curiously. “You’re making me nervous.”

You took a deep breath and dove into the whole story. She had fallen asleep early in the movie and didn’t see how you cuddled up with Tom, so you started there. Her initial excitement at that part of the story quickly turned into outrage when you told her about the moment on the stairs.

“Wait, he was like, pushy?” She gasped. “Eww, I hate that!”

“I mean I guess he technically didn’t do anything, but it was his tone, ya know?” You explained. “Like he could’ve pretended to be fine sleeping on the couch to make it less awkward. Rafe didn’t seem to mind the idea...”

“Hold on, rewind. Rafe? Where does Rafe come into this?” She stopped you.

“Oh,” you swallowed. You hadn’t thought through how to tell her that part of the story. “He was down there when it all happened. And then his room was flooded so I gave him some bedding and…”

Part of you wanted to tell her everything; the way you’d felt like you were on the brink of starting something with him, and how you shut right back down when you saw that he’d left his spot outside your room so abruptly. The problem was, even though you knew you should, if you told Carter that Rafe had hurt your feelings again, she’d go off on him and it would only add gasoline to the fire of their rivalry. You were still hanging on to a tiny thread of hope, not really in the mood for a Classic Carter Rant pointing out all the reasons you shouldn’t be.

“...and then he slept on the couch.”

She nodded, “Oh. Well, did he say anything about Tom?”

“No,” you were grateful to get back to telling the truth. “He just asked if I was okay.”

“That was nice of him, I guess,” she conceded.

“You and Topper seemed pretty cozy last night,” you brought up, eager to change the subject before she asked more questions about Rafe.

“We’re always like that,” she waved you off.

“Does he always carry you to bed though?”

“Sometimes,” she shrugged.

The way you narrowed your eyes at her, she knew you weren’t buying her indifference.

“Ughhh what?” She groaned, pulling a pillow over her face to hide her blush.

“You and him,” you pulled the pillow from her face, “it’s for real this time.”

Carter huffed a dramatic exhale and stared up at the ceiling.

“I mean, you know how it is with him. It’s not, like, real.” You couldn’t tell if she was trying to convince you, or herself.

“Maybe it should be,” you said softly. “You’re not seventeen anymore, Car. Maybe it’s time for something real.”

She considered your words, scrunching her lips to the side, chewing on her inner cheek.

It must be getting serious, you thought, she’s never been quiet this long.

Like she could read your mind, she sat up suddenly, shaking the emotion off her face before reaching her arms above her in a theatrical stretch.

“Doesn’t matter,” she explained. “‘Cause I’m not doing anything with him until he gives up this whole Team Rafe thing anyway.”

“This whole what?” You sat up next to her, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Some dumb plan he’s trying. He thinks you and Rafe belong together or some bullshit,” she rolled her eyes.

Your mind raced. It made sense, thinking through Topper’s actions the past few days - the grocery store trip, the beer pong ruse, the looks between him and Rafe everytime you entered the room. The question was, did Rafe know that Topper was trying to get you two together? And more importantly, was he trying, too?

You snapped back to reality when you noticed Carter studying you, picking up on how you were suddenly flushed and nervous.

“Which is ridiculous, right?” She prompted you.

“Y-yeah,” you mustered up as much certainty as you could manage.

“Right,” she agreed with herself, “so Topper better drop it soon.”

“Why, so I can be with Tom?”

“Ugh no, Team Tom is dead. RIP Team Tom.”

You laughed, “so if you’re not Team Tom, and you’re not Team Rafe, who-”

You didn’t even have to finish the question.

“Team you,” she said. “Always.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

When you and Carter emerged from her room, you could already hear the chatter of everyone in the kitchen, making you immediately nervous to see Rafe. You tried to think of something clever to say to him, like a shield protecting you in case he approached you first.

“Nice sweatshirt,” Carter laughed.

“Huh?” you asked. Before you thought to look down and see what she meant, the door at the far end of the hall opened, and Tom stumbled out. This was the latest he’d woken up all week, usually beating everyone else to the sunrise and going on a run.

“Sleep well?” Carter asked him in a sing-songy, fake-nice voice.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

“It’s okay, I make a mean cup of coffee,” you said, in an actually-nice voice, trying to soothe the tension.

“Said I slept fine,” he grumbled back, not even meeting your eyes as he turned to descend the stairs.

“Wow,” Carter mouthed to you silently as you both made to follow him down to the kitchen.

As you took the first step, Carter’s phone rang in the distance, you recognized it by the same ringtone she’d had since middle school.

“Be right back,” she told you, turning to get her phone from her room and leaving you to walk down the steps after Tom.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Rafe poured himself another cup of coffee, stretching to work out the tension in his back from the uncomfortable couch cushions.

He tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes. All together he must’ve only gotten three or four hours. Most of the night was spent lying awake in the den, wondering if just a few feet above him you were in Tom’s bed. He pictured you laughing with your head on his chest, telling him about how stupid Rafe looked curled up on the floor like a child. He’d tried a few shots of whiskey to push the shame out of his mind and lull him to sleep, but it only proved to be nightmare-fuel.

As he downed the coffee like it was medicine, he turned to see the exact sight he had the nightmares about.

You came down the stairs with Tom, both of you with messy bedhead and groggy eyes, clearly not much sleep had happened. The cherry on top to his torment? You were wearing an oversized, men’s U of F hoodie that he could only assume belonged to your new boyfriend.

It was like his heart was digging its own grave, hopping into the dirt and calling up to him, “you did this to yourself, buddy!”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

You felt Rafe’s eyes on you immediately, but you couldn’t meet them. Maybe you’d just return to your original plan of ignoring him, and hope the last three days would fade to black in time.

Topper got your attention as you sat at the counter with a fresh cup of coffee.

“Nice sweatshirt,” he nodded.

You looked down, finally taking in the clothes you’d pulled on in Carter’s pitch black room. It was a U of F sweatshirt, and if it was on Carter’s floor, it must’ve belonged to Topper.

“Thanks, I knitted it myself,” you joked back.

“Maybe you could knit me one, I seem to have lost mine,” Topper smiled back.

You knew he wouldn’t mind if you held onto it a little longer, probably liking that Carter felt so free to share his clothes and not hide the fact that she had them in the first place.

Topper, Tom, and Kelce sat at the breakfast nook, falling into a heated conversation about U of F’s chances at the NCAA tournament next year. Rafe sat with them, but his mind couldn’t be farther from basketball.

Yesterday when you came downstairs, he barely looked at you. Today, he didn’t stop looking at you. You felt more naked than you did when you’d stripped your clothes in front of him. You took several long sips of your coffee just to have something to do. Your body was overheating, his gaze wrapping around you like a thick, fur coat.

Then the coffee was gone too soon, and you feared without the distraction, you might break down and look back at him. Hyper aware that he was watching, you hopped off the stool and walked to the coffee maker, the conversation at the nook entertaining enough to draw everyone else’s attention, but not his.

As you poured your second cup, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, feeling a warm, brooding presence close by.

“You must be tired, huh?” Rafe drawled, stepping to your side and leaning on the counter.

“At least I got to sleep in a bed,” you still didn’t meet his eyes.

“Yeah, a couple of ‘em it seems.”

You frowned at that. His eyes zeroed in on the downward curve of your lips.

“How’d you know?”

He had no way of knowing you were just looking for him to explain why he left. You had no way of knowing that your vagueness just confirmed his biggest fear.

Rafe’s bottom lip jutted out as he nodded, muscles in his neck flexing with the motion.

“It’s cool,” he shrugged, “just wonder if he knows you took your clothes off for me first.”

Whiplash. It always felt like whiplash with him.

Mind going a million miles a minute, you tried to catch up to his words, stumbling over all the holes in his logic. When you finally got there, a slow, crooked grin bloomed on your face.

“So you were the ghost in the kitchen.”

That was so far from anything he thought you were going to say, he almost thought you were speaking a different language.

“Huh?”

He was so gorgeously dumbfounded, it was delicious.

Puzzle pieces fell perfectly into place, the story of last night becoming clear in your mind. Rafe had woken up and looked for you in your bed, when he didn’t find you he assumed you were with Tom. And now, Rafe Cameron was jealous, for you. Maybe it was wrong, but after fifteen years of patient, unrequited love, you thought you deserved five minutes to mess with him.

“Nothing,” you sipped your coffee with a smirk, looking up at him through your lashes, making him wait. A long sip and a satisfied smack of your lips and finally, “so you saw my bed empty and put it all together, huh? You figured I slept with Tom.”

“Didn’t you?” He wondered, almost too quietly, like he was asking himself.

“What if I did? What would you do then?”

It was a long, dense silence. Your eyes stayed steady on his, willing him wordlessly: Say it. Say you’re jealous. Say that you want me.

His eyes however, couldn’t land in one spot, like your face was an equation he needed desperately to solve. You smiled ever so slightly, admiring how hard he was working for the answer. It was a new look on him. But then, when he seemed to find it, his whole posture changed and your delight faded. He pulled away coldly, one brief action completely snuffing out the spark between you, crushing it under his foot for good measure.

“Nothing.”

And there you were again, falling off that cliff, more mad at yourself for letting him convince you to jump than you were at him for pulling back. Leopards don’t change their spots, gazelles should know better.

Carter finally came padding down the steps, eyeing you and Rafe briefly before finding Topper.

“Top, that guy finally called me back!” She announced excitedly.

“Jet skis?” He guessed.

“Three! Ours for the afternoon!”

“Let’s fucking go!” He stood from the table and gave her a high five. “Knew you could talk him into it.”

“Talk who into what?” Sabrina butted in.

“We were trying to find some place to rent jet skis,” Carter filled her in, tripping over her words in excitement. “But since it’s Memorial Day weekend everybody and their mother is here trying to rent jet skis so everywhere we asked was either completely booked or charging a bajillion dollars. But I talked this guy down to like half his original price.”

“You’re so gonna kick business school’s ass, babe,” Topper lauded her.

She was too happy with herself to scold him for the corny nickname.

“We gotta be ready in like, ten, though,” she informed him.

“Oh shit, okay who’s coming?” Topper rallied, pointing at each person as he said “Jet skis? Jet skis? Little Carter, jet skis?”

“I thought we agreed you weren’t gonna call me that,” you reminded him, crossing your arms.

“More like you demanded, but say yes to jet skis and we’ll have a deal,” he teased.

He put his arm around Carter so casually as she looked to you with hopeful eyes. For a moment, you pictured them married, Topper being the older brother you always wanted, and always kinda had.

“Deal,” you smiled at them affectionately.

“Yay!” Carter clapped. “Okay so that makes three, we need three more people, so it’s two to a ski.”

“I’m down,” Tom raised his hand from the breakfast nook. Carter almost pretended she didn’t hear him, but reluctantly said “Okay, who else?”

“Rafey boy? Jet skis?” Topper urged him, looking at him with the same knowing eyes as when he asked him to be your beer pong partner.

It occurred to you that Carter hadn’t had any time to tell Topper she’d switched to team anti-Tom, in his mind the game was still on. Which is probably why his face dropped so low when Rafe said, “I’ll pass.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

Nothing.

He’d meant it as a gift, but based on the look on your face when he said it, it seemed you took it like a curse.

If you really wanted to be with someone else, chose someone else over him, what could he do but sit back and watch? He certainly had no grounds to tell you he wanted you, that opportunity had passed years ago. He’d bow out gracefully, for you.

Plus, the feeling of seeing you come down the stairs with Tom, in his sweatshirt, was debilitating. He had never been good at handling difficult feelings, and that moment was the worst he’d felt in a long time.

But then you’d looked up at him like that, and maybe even flirted with him, and sent his mind spinning about whether you had actually slept with Tom at all.

Sensing the storm clouds brewing in Rafe’s head, Topper pulled him aside once everyone had left the kitchen.

“Yo dude, why aren’t you coming with us?” Topper asked him. “This whole thing was a way to get you two together. Alone on a jet ski? Man, that's your play!”

“Nah I don’t think she wants me to make a play, man,” Rafe sighed.

“What are you talking about? You two were just practically making out by the coffee pot,” Topper said.

“Yeah, she was telling me all about how she hooked up with Tom last night.”

Topper laughed at that, his face falling slowly when he realized Rafe was actually serious.

“There’s no way,” he shook his head adamantly. “Tom was in my room all night, he said Kelce snores.”

“She was wearing his fucking sweatshirt,” Rafe motioned mindlessly towards where you and Tom had come down the stairs, not letting himself indulge the twinge of hope he felt at Topper’s words.

“Bro,” Topper looked to the ceiling with an exasperated chuckle. “You’re down so bad.”

“It’s not fucking funny,” Rafe snapped.

“Oh my god, man, it was my sweatshirt.”

Rafe’s eyes narrowed, inspecting the statement for any dishonesty. When Topper’s sincerity didn’t waiver, his anger turned into warm, prickly embarrassment. He felt like an idiot, getting so worked up when he didn’t even have a fraction of the facts straight. The smugly amused look on your face at his blatant jealousy suddenly made so much more sense.

“Doesn’t matter,” he grumbled, covering his shame with indifference, a classic Rafe Cameron move.

“What are you talking about?” Topper pushed. “You should be stoked. You saw them on the couch, she totally could’ve hooked up with him and didn’t.”

Rafe just shrugged, frustrating Topper further.

“Do you not want to get with her or something? Cause that’s fine but-”

“‘Course I do,” Rafe stopped him.

“Well you coulda fooled me,” Topper slapped his hand on Rafe’s shoulder. “Dude, this brooding shit isn’t getting you anywhere with her. What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he heard himself say for the second time today.

“Y’know Rafe,” Topper shook his head, “I don’t think I’ll ever get you man.”

Join the fucking club, Rafe thought.

“Look, I’m gonna go jet skiing with our girls, you come join us when you come to your senses, okay?”

With that and one final pat on the shoulder, Topper left Rafe alone in the kitchen, feeling like he needed something much stronger than coffee.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

The whole outing was doomed from the start.

For such a flashy car, the interior of Topper’s Range Rover was far too small. Sabrina’s elbow nudged your arm as she dug frantically through her giant beach bag.

“Noooo I forgot sunscreen,” she whined. “I hate my life.”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Tom has some,” you said playfully, trying to meet his eye.

“I don’t, sorry,” he shut you down without so much as a friendly glance.

You caught Carter’s eyes in the rear view mirror, both incredulous. He was gonna act cold towards you? The fucking nerve. Carter clearly shared your thoughts, eyebrows knit with rage as she scanned the back seat in the mirror. Then her eyes went wide and she reached out to grab Topper’s non-driving arm.

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed. “We forgot Kelce.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

There was this one day, in the Fall of his senior year, that Rafe still thinks about all the time.

You were driving him home from practice, as you so often did, and the sun was starting to set earlier, the last drops of summer fading away into a cool autumn. You had the windows rolled down, which he knew you’d been waiting to do for months, loving the chill in the air. The sunset was casting a glow through the window, and you squinted in its orange glow as you sang along to a song on a CD you’d burned. You were the only one in the world Rafe knew that still listened to CDs.

“Why don’t you just put a playlist on shuffle?”

“I like to know what’s coming next.”

As you drove, for reasons he couldn’t explain then and still didn’t quite understand now, he thought about marrying you.

It was completely hypothetical, and almost not even romantic. It was ridiculous really, you were seventeen and eighteen, and he was busy planning for college and all the sorority girls he was gonna hook up with. But for a moment, the thought of being married to you was the only thing in the world that made sense to him.

His mind was a storm, raging like hell, all the fucking time. But that day, for the length of that one song, it went completely quiet. He saw it clear as day; you, fifteen years older, coming through the door of your shared house and bringing all that glorious quiet home to him.

Now he was pacing the still damp basement floor, wishing like hell he’d said anything other than “nothing.” Wishing he could grab you and make you understand. If you were with Tom he’d have no right to do anything, but he might still burn this whole fucking house down. The feelings he’d pushed down that day in your car finally sprang forward, and suddenly nothing in the world existed except for you.

And Kelce, who came rushing into the basement, interrupting his anxious thoughts.

“Rafe, bro, they fucking left me!” Kelce told him, breathless.

Rafe held back a laugh at the image of Kelce chasing the car down the street like a lost puppy.

“Can you give me a ride to the dock?” Kelce asked.

“No,” Rafe shook his head, making a quick decision. “But you can give me one.”

(chapter 5: part two)

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄

a/n: part two of this chapter tomorrow!! I am quite literally running out of the house to go to work, so I may fuck up the taglist sorry I will fix any errors ! gotta go bbys, you can snack on this 'til I get back xoxoxo

please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

2K notes · View notes

baby-yongbok · 4 months ago

Text

Enchanted

Hwang Hyunjin x afab!Reader

-`♡´- Genre - Smut - Boyfriend!Hyunjin x afab!Reader -`♡´- Word Count - 2.1k

“I need to kiss you.” He whispers down at you. “Need to have you close to me without these clothes. Just need you, baby.”

-`♡´- Warnings - Unprotected piv (condoms are fun, y'all), Themes of marriage -`♡´-Requested - Yes `♡´ No

✧ Masterlist ✧

You learned quickly that Hyunjin is the human representation of a love bug. It’s nothing new to you, you’ve known him for years. He’s been your friend, your confidant, your crush and now he’s simply yours.

You knew from observing his few past relationships that he wears his heart on his sleeve and will sometimes rip it off and offer it to you while blinding you with a smile. You knew that he was passionate and you loved it, you still do.

“Darling.” Hyunjin’s arm wraps around your waist from behind. He startled you a bit, you’ve been standing by yourself on the sidelines of his best friend's wedding reception, barefoot with a glass of champagne that you’ve been sipping for way too long.

“You seem like you’re ready to go.” He splays his long fingers over your stomach while his other hand runs down your arm. It’s been a long night, you’ve been dancing, singing, and tending to your needy boyfriend all evening. It seems that weddings activate the love bug in him.

“You’ve asked me that twice, Hyune.” You lean back into him, your head on his shoulder and your pretty eyes staring up into his. “You just want to get me home.”

“I can’t help it, baby.” His hand abandons your arm, leaving your goosebumps lonely on your skin as he takes the flute of bubbles from your hand and sets it on the table. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Doing this with you.”

“You want to marry me?” You turn in his hold, lacing your arms around his neck. “Shouldn’t that be a surprise?”

“You know that I’m going to marry you.” The two of you sway despite the blaring upbeat music filling the space. “How could I marry anyone else?” His hands glide over the fabric of your dress, taking in each dip and curve clumsily and calmly. His heart swells behind his ribcage as he stares down at your sweet smile.

“Why do you want to take me home so badly?” He feels up your back, bunching up the soft satin of your dress a bit before flattening it back. His hands run over your hips then wrap around your waist, pulling you so close to his chest that your heart could sing to his.

“I need to kiss you.” He whispers down at you. “Need to have you close to me without these clothes. Just need you, baby.”

“Won’t it be rude to leave so early?” Hyunjin looks over towards the dance floor and catches the eye of Felix, his newly wed best friend. “Let’s ask, hm?”

He’s leading you behind him before you can protest. Felix meets him halfway with his now wife on his arm. “Are you two turning in for the night?” You smile over at his wife, Amina, and she gives you a knowing glance. This wouldn’t be the first time that Hyunjin whisked you away in the name of love.

“Think so, is that alright?” The newlyweds smile over at your lover and he smiles back at them. “It’s expected, Hyune. I’m surprised you didn’t sweep her away sooner.”

Hyunjin blushes at Amina and Felix pulls his friend into a hug. “You’re next, yeah?” Felix breaks the hug and Hyunjin’s arm is back around your waist in an instant.

“Yeah, I think I am.” You say your good-byes, wishing the newlyweds a beautiful rest of their night and finding the rest of your group to bid your farewells. Hyunjin’s arm stayed around you the entire time. From the venue to the car then from the car to your front door where he kissed you like his life depended on it.

The previously calm glide of his hands over your body was hurried now. His clumsy nature is consistent in his present touch. He fumbles with the straps of your dress in a hurried attempt to free you from the garment. He stops himself once he fails to grasp the second strap. Shining eyes stare at you through a darkening fog, admiring the woman before him like paint on a canvas.

“I’m sorry, I’m moving so fast.” He hooks a finger into the knot of his tie and pulls it. “I just - you’re just so…” He trails off, falling deeper into the sparkling haze.

You stand across from him patiently waiting for his thoughts to manifest into words. You lean against the back of the couch, reaching down to take off your heels. He watches you as every emotion falls into place. “Enchanting. You’re everything.”

“You’re sweet, my love.” You beam at him, pulling him forward by his loosened tie and he happily falls into your lead. You wrap your arms around his waist and his hands cup your cheeks. “My love bug, what do you want? What do you need?”

“You.” He breathes and you inhale. “Just you, all that you’ll give. Just need to love you.”

“Then love me, Hyune.” He’s indulging in your taste instantly, gently and just as clumsily as before. His pink lips stamp love onto yours and you return to sender with a gentle hum. His eyes are closed, his heart is beating loudly in his ears and every thought rushing through his head sounds like you.

“Please let me bring you to bed.” He mumbles against you and you nod into the kiss that follows. With some simple readjustments he’s sweeping your bare feet from the floor, carrying you like the bride you should be over to your shared bedroom.

He’s gentle as he sits you down and unzips the side of your dress. He peels the delicate satin off of you like a petal to a flower. He picks you apart in a gentle game of ‘does she love me’.

You push his jacket from his shoulders, undressing him with the same tender intention. Once your dress pools around your ankles you step out of it, pushing it to the side with your foot before focusing on Hyunjin again.

You unbutton his shirt, pressing kisses to the skin that peeks from between the fabric. His fingers dance along your bareskin the entire time that you undress him. Once he’s standing in his boxers before you something breaks within him. It might’ve been the way that you looked up at him. It might’ve been the way that you kissed his hip along the elastic of his underwear. He doesn’t know what did it but he knows that he has to love you, right now. He needs to have his arms wrapped around you and you wrapped around him right now or he’ll choke on the air in his lungs that doesn’t taste like you.

He’s pressing you into the mattress once your lips leave his skin, his hands wander the expanse of your stomach and thighs as he rolls over on his side, lips still on yours as he falls deeper into the sparkling haze that has your name.

“Closer.” He mumbles, pressing the pads of his fingers firmer into your flesh as he pulls you flush against him. His lips run over the slope of your neck, pressing kisses to every inch that he can reach as he runs his length through your pooling slick.

“Hyune, I wanna feel you.” His hips buck up against you at the sound of your begging. The head of his cock catches on your entrance and he almost slips in. Almost. “Please, my love.”

Hyunjin’s hands run over your hip, his fingers splay over the smooth flesh of your stomach and he’s pushing into you with a soft slow stroke and a groan to match.

“Oh my- baby.” His eyes are shut tight as he reigns in every ounce of self control he’s ever possessed but it’s no use. He never fails to get lost in you. He can’t help but drown in the aura you provide him. You’re intoxicating, dizzying, enchanting. “ You make me feel so.. So good.”

He whispers against the shell of your ear as he pulls back carefully and sinks back in with an enraptured moan. Your hands run over the sheets and find purchase at different points before you reach back to hold onto your lover. He meets your wandering fingertips in a firm embrace, holding onto you like you’d vanish if he didn’t.

“More please, please.” A muffled groan is all you receive as Hyunjin picks up his pace. His face is buried in your hair, taking in the scent to keep himself grounded. Somehow you still give him butterflies after all of these years. Somehow being inside of you right now feels like the very first time.

“God, baby, you sound so pretty.” Your head falls back onto his shoulder, eyes shut tight with your jaw hung slack in pure ecstasy. Wanton moans bounce off of the walls and fill the empty spaces between you two. Hyunjin’s touch is so soft, his movements so intentional that you can’t help but melt against him. “Look at me.”

You blink your eyes open, looking into his as his hips snap into yours. He hugs you into him, pulling you in impossibly close against his chest. “I love you.” Your eyes water as you look back into his. His brows furrowed with pleasure as you clench around him. His cock sinks into you slowly, pressing perfectly into the spot where you need him most.

“ ‘M gonna marry you.” He brings his hand up to your face, caressing the soft skin of your neck and gently laying his hand over your pulse point. “Gonna make you my wife.”

“Hyunjin.” You pant a moan, tears welling up at the corners of your eyes as you get thrown into a whirlwind of emotions. “I love you too.” He accepts your profession with a groan as his hips rock into you faster. Your breath gets caught in your throat, your nails sink into the flesh of his hip once you reach back to ground yourself.

“Tell me you’d say yes.” Your legs are tangled in a mess of trembling limbs. The sound of skin against skin is loud around you as he fucks into you harder. “Please, fucking please.”

“Yes, yes, yes, I’d say it.” Your hand moves from his hip up to his hair. Your fingers tangle in the damp locks, pulling slightly to milk the prettiest moan from your lover's lips. “Only for you.”

“Only for me?” Hyunjin’s hips stutter, the sweet tingle of his release buzzes in his stomach. “You’re mine. My baby.”

“Yours, Hyune.” Your orgasm builds in time with his, your core trembles with the tension of the knot tightening. “Kiss me.” Your whispered words pull Hyunjin right in. He dips his head down, pressing his parted lips to yours in a slow yet heated kiss that makes you moan on contact.

His lips move in perfect sync with yours. His hand cups your jaw and keeps you in place as he fucks into you like it’s his last chance to. Moans vibrate through the both of you as your orgasms climb your spines. He slips his tongue past your lips to meet yours in a greedy attempt to claim the sounds that you’re making just for him. He wants to taste your love off of the very tongue that spoke it to him.

“‘M gonna cum.” Your hurried whisper barely makes it past your busy lips but Hyunjin hears you loud and clear. “With me, cum with me.” He pants into your mouth, punctuating his sentence with a kiss and that’s all it takes to make you tumble. With a final snap of his hips against yours he’s burying himself deep into your cunt, falling over the edge with you.

“Oh oh, baby, fuck.” Hyunjin’s shaking against you and you against him. His arms wrap tight around your body as your cunt milks him for every drop he has to offer. “C’mere.”

He turns your head, meeting your trembling lips with his own in a clumsy kiss. You grind down against him, riding your orgasm out as he rocks ever so slightly, giving you the last of himself. “I love you.” You whisper against his lips. “So much, I love you so much.”

He smiles into the kiss, his cheeks growing red with a sweet blush. “Don’t be shy now.” You pull back with a laugh and he groans with a smile. “You make me this way.” His arms wrap around you tighter and you fall into the comfort of the soft silence settling around you.

“Do you really want to marry me?” Hyunjin hums, leaning in to kiss your cheek softly before following with another and another. “It’s my dream.” You smile into the shower of kisses, pressing back into him.

“When are you proposing?” You joke, looking back at him with glimmering eyes and he finds himself getting worked up all over again.

“What’re you doing tomorrow?”

Flower divider made by @strangergraphics

Thank You For Reading! Please Reblog or Comment to let me know how you liked it! It makes my day! 💕

ALSO, please follow my back-up acct. @minniee-verse 💕

Perm. Tag List:

@dreamingaboutjisung @nxtt2-u @kayleefriedchicken

@compersian @kibs-and-bits @lixiluvs @armystay89 @lghtdarling

@teddy-stay , @baconcupcakes123, @moonchild9350 ,

@krayzieestay, @soulsbbg , @stay-bi , @yzsqu , @gho-ster , @lghtdarling

1K notes · View notes

starsofang · 6 months ago

Text

CALL OF THE SEA / PART FOUR

pirate poly!141 x f!reader tw: NSFW, MDNI, violence, kidnapping, angst, blood, 141 are still mean pirates ): kind of, very brief mentions of death masterlist

When a group of unhinged pirates invade your small village, you're whisked away from your peaceful home and thrown on to a voyage out at sea. Forced to obtain a new role as their medic, you have no choice but to accept your fate as you join their forces and aid them in their treacherous travels.

There were no ifs, ands, or buts about sleeping arrangements. Price, the Captain that he was, would have it his way, and his way was keeping you secured in the stuffiness of his own quarters.

It was uncomfortable, the way you shared the bed with him. He was a large man, much larger than you, and his bed only had so much space to fit the two of you. In the midst of the nights, you’d feel his leg brush against yours, or feel the soft rumble of his quiet snores from where he laid beside you.

It was far from ideal. As much as you hated it, it was an upgrade from your cell down in the brig. Price’s bed was softer, more plush, and it sank you in every time you slept on it. The situation was no better, but it wasn’t any worse, either.

The downside, though, was that you were just as much a prisoner as you were in the cell. Price made it known that you weren’t to leave his quarters under any circumstance.

They brought you meals in rotations. Sometimes Soap would show, cracking a horrible joke that left you rolling your eyes. Or sometimes it’d be Gaz, who hardly spared you a word of conversation, though you could see the faint glimpse of pity in his eye.

Then there was Ghost. A pure enigma, darkened by shadowy demons that were hidden beneath his mask. He never uttered a word to you, nor looked at you. He did his bidding by slapping down a bowl of poorly made stew and immediately making his exit before you could get a single word in.

Price wouldn’t bring you your meals, though you convinced yourself it was because he was avoiding you. You thought his original plan of having you sleep in his quarters would be for something diabolical and sinful, yet he made no effort to touch you nor get to know you. It was nice, knowing he wasn’t there to do things against your will, but it was also confusing, wondering what his real plan was for you.

It was as if sleeping with a wall, which you weren’t sure whether to be grateful or not. These men were far from people you wanted to be a part of, but the desire for a friend was beginning to outweigh your spite.

You were an outcast aboard this ship. Secluded from the world, and isolated from the only people you were surrounded by. It was a dreadfully lonely life to be living. Your only friend was the sea, and even that was something you were torn away from, locked away in the quarters with only a small window to offer a view of it.

The door of Price’s quarters barged open, disrupting you from your woe. None of them ever bothered to knock. They were savages, bred with no proper manners in the presence of a woman. But really, you weren’t a woman to them. You were labor. An inconvenience.

“Get up,” Ghost grumbled from his stand in the doorway, hand knuckling the rusty knob. “Goin’ shoppin’.”

“We’re on land?” you asked, standing from Price’s cot. Ghost grunted in response. “And I’m to… join you?”

“You need supplies, don’t you?” he gruffed, eyes narrowing in on you. “Don’t make me change my mind.”

The door abruptly slammed shut, leaving you alone in the quarters once again.

Land? They were allowing you to join them on their journey to land, to aid you in getting supplies necessary to work as a proper medic? It seemed surreal, yet bittersweet.

Gaining new supplies set your position on their crew in stone. They intended to keep you as theirs, and only trusted you enough to let you get off of the ship under their watch.

Yet, you’d be able to feel the grass between your toes once again. To feel the summer sun soaking in your skin, to hear the chatter of villagers fill your ears. You’d feel the liveliness of people apart from these heartless, savage pirates.

You’d be able to escape.

If you remained clever, you could leave the hands of Captain Price and create a new life far from their ship. This was your one and only opportunity to venture towards the life you always wanted for yourself.

You appeared as neutral as ever when you left the quarters to join the four men where they stood, clearly speaking amongst each other. You couldn’t show the rushing adrenaline coursing through you, not if you wanted to get away alive.

“Ach, there ye are, dove,” Soap huffed in annoyance, grabbing hold of your bicep to surge you towards him. You collided with his side, knocking the air out of your lungs. “Yer with me.”

“Stick with Soap,” Price ordered. His glare sent chills down your spine. “You are to get what you need under his watch. Try anythin’ funny and he won’t be so kind with you.”

“She’s fine, Cap, no need to worry. She won’t do anythin’ silly. Ain’t that right, dove?” Soap beamed, a touch of crazy leering down at you.

The plan in your head was beginning to feel too soon and too dangerous. You could only swallow nervously, giving a firm nod in return before they helped guide you off of the ship.

The town was lively around you. It was nothing like your home. Where you had grown with the quiet chirps of nature and gentle conversation, you were now greeted with an angry bustle of rushing townsfolk, brushing past you as if you were a ghost.

You felt out of touch with your surroundings. Others were dressed in fresh fabrics, altered to their frame. The women were pretty, hair unmatted and braided to frame their lovely faces while the men were covered from head to toe with the finest of coats.

Not all were as fortunate. There were a select few you caught glimpses of as you passed who were as dirty as you were, shoeless and hopeless. Begging for scraps of food or cheap coins, only to be spat on like the scum of the Earth.

You were no different. Next to Soap, you looked like a helpless, little mouse with dirty bags of fabric that fell loosely on your body, with your feet blackened from the lack of cover. It was utterly humiliating.

Soap kept a solid grip on your arm as he led you through the heaps of shoppers. He kept his eyes forward, scoping out any possible threat. You could see the hardwired focus geared in his brain, as if working on pure muscle memory.

“Pretty neat of a place, aye?” Soap asked, attempting small talk. He glanced over at you, wearing that boyish grin of his.

“It’s wonderful,” you replied, taking in the sights.

You meant it. Shops lined every corner of the dirt paths, windows displaying pretty dresses or tailored suits. Where you expected the town to look depressing, you found color, filling you with a warm dose of serenity.

This was a town you could grow to love. It was busy and loud, but the opportunity seeped out through every corner, calling your name. Your freedom rang out like a bell, offering you a place for your dreams to come true.

You had to escape if you truly wanted it. Your plan would have to unfold, even if it meant being patient.

“Yer bound to see a whole lot more towns better than this one, dove,” Soap boasted, grinning with pride. “Ye will grow to accept us one day.”

You stared up at Soap while the two of you walked. It was a shame, really, that he was the only one decently kind to you. Kind was far too generous of a word to describe any of these men, but it was the closest thing to what Soap was being towards you.

He was still a pirate, though.

“I am not so sure of that,” you confessed, unsure of why you did.

“Ach, ye will. The rest are secretly a bunch of softies,” he claimed, waving a dismissive hand. “We’re still human even if we’re pirates.”

“You’ve kidnapped me,” you stated.

“Mm. Yes.”

“You burned down my home,” you continued.

“Perhaps.”

“You killed my people,” you finished.

“You know nothin’ of what we do, dove. How about we keep shoppin’ for ye and stop worryin’ about the past?” Soap asked, not unkindly. He was surprisingly composed despite your accusations.

You stared at him for a moment longer before looking away. There was no point in arguing when the plan was to escape the moment you had the chance. Today would be the last day you’d ever have to converse with Soap and his men, if you played your cards right.

“You’re right,” you said quietly. “I apologize.”

“There ye go, dove.” Soap returned to smiling, giving a mocking pinch to your grimy cheek. “Now, what all do ye need?”

Soap made escape increasingly difficult. His hand remained secure around your arm for every shop you went in, keeping you by his side. It was as if he had a secret sense that let him know of your plans. Or perhaps he was following Price’s orders.

He stuck with you with every purchase. You gathered herbs, freshly made medicines, and a new book and quill to jot down notes in a journal. Soap allowed you the pleasure of collecting expensive items, unwavered by the prices.

He paid for them in gold, little round coins he’d slap on to the counter and leave behind without waiting for the shop tenant to gawk at such a rare sight of payment.

It wasn’t until you passed a clothing shop did he falter. His steps had stopped, eyes peering into the window. You stopped with him, dissecting his reaction.

“Sorry, dove. Makin’ a stop for myself,” he stated, tugging you into the shop. To your surprise, he let go of your arm, leaving you standing near the entrance. “Stay put. I’m trustin’ ye, so don’t make me regret it, aye?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you gave him a nod. He threw you a beaming smile before stalking off into the store, disappearing just out of sight. You remained firm in place, hands clasping in front of you.

The pit in your stomach twisted from the nerves that wracked you. This was your moment, your only chance of escape. If you didn’t take it now, you may never be lucky enough for another one.

As if fate was sealing itself, your eyes caught sight of a group of guards walking past the store, wooden rifles at the ready on their shoulders. They were speaking amongst themselves, oblivious to your inner turmoil from where you stood in the entrance of the shop.

A quick glance behind you showed that Soap was still occupied, unbeknownst to your plan. You could only see the top of his head, the messy mohawk sticking out like a sore thumb.

With the opportunity in front of you, you took it.

You moved slowly at first. Unsure, cautious. But once you made it out of the shop with Soap realizing, you amped your speed. Your dirty bare feet clambered clumsily along the dusty streets, digging into the little pebbles that littered them.

The dull sting of pain as you sprinted to the guards was disregarded. It was nothing compared to the ache of freedom you desired.

“Hello!” you shouted, garnering their attention. They turned, eyeing you with a judgmental glint at the state of you. “Please, I need help!”

“What can we do for you?” one of the guards asked, suspicious. His eyes were set on your feet, which were caked with months of filth. “A lass like you shouldn’t be out without a chaperone.”

“You don’t understand,” you gasped, catching your breath from the anxiety that rattled you like a drum. “I’ve been kidnapped by— by pirates and I’ve only just escaped. Please, I need your help, or they will take me back.”

“Pirates?” The guards perked up, glancing between one another as if sharing a secret you were unaware of. “How many pirates, lass?”

“Four,” you explained. “The Captain— his name is John Price. He is the one that took me from my village and I have been imprisoned on his ship for so long, I do not recall the days. Will you help me?”

You were frantic. Desperate. It showed in the way your voice shook, the way your frame shivered with nerves.

“It is not,” Guard Two said to his companion.

“It is,” Guard One said, the one who had spoken to you first. This time, they spoke to one another rather than to you, as if you were invisible. “There is only one Captain Price. It is 141.”

Guard Two looked over at you, face set firm. His eyes were piercing and cold, and it made you shrink down into yourself. They were not welcoming or kind like you expected a guard’s to be.

Guard One fumbled in the pocket of his britches before pulling out an aged paper. On it were the faces of the pirates with the exception of Ghost, covered by his signature mask. All of them were plastered on the page with a bounty over their heads, as well as a promise of exile for their arrest.

Execution. The pirates would be executed publicly if they were caught. The punishment was inked in bold letters beneath their pictures, and each letter was taunting you with the blood that would be spilled on your hands for turning them in.

An unsettling guilt began to gnaw at you. You were unsure of why. Captain Price and his crew had stolen you from your home and made you their medic. They had you sleeping in a cell for nights uncounted, eating slop out of a bowl like a dog.

Yet, to kill them was much too burdening on you. They were mean, heartless, and unworthy. Yet, death was unkind. You were not so shallow.

“Is this what they look like?” Guard One asked, holding the paper in front of you. It was undoubtedly them, down to every detail.

“Yes,” you confirmed, though not as confidently as before. There was now a weight in your tone, as if holding back. “Yes, that’s them. You— you will kill them once you find them?”

Guard Two laughed, though it was bone chilling. There wasn’t a hint of warmth in it, only distaste and rage. “Of course. They’re to be hanged for their crimes. They are savages.”

He took a step closer to you, leaning down to your level. His aura was threatening, and you could feel yourself cowering away. “You must tell us where they are at once. We will help you once we have captured them.”

You took a step back, deflating. Everything within you told you that you made a mistake. If you went through with exposing their whereabouts and having them captured, their deaths would be because of you. You would be a murderer.

“I—“ You swallowed, clenching your clammy hands into nervous fists. “I do not know where they’ve gone. I ran away as soon as I could.”

“Not a problem,” Guard One gruffed, taking hold of your arm, just as Soap had done before. Now, more than ever, a part of you wished it was Soap rather than the guard. “You will guide us to their ship.”

“Please let go of me,” you murmured brokenly, covering the guard’s hand with your own to pry his fingers off. They didn’t budge. “Please.”

Your pleas were shadowed by their greed. You recognized the look in their eyes, and it scared you to the bone.

Bloodthirst. They were hungry to capture the pirates, hungry to be the ones to guide them to their impending death. It was not about helping you. It was about the handsome reward they would receive for turning in the most wanted criminals of the sea.

You began to panic. The air in your lungs felt weak, and you could feel the world around you closing in.

This was not the outcome you wanted. You simply wanted your freedom, yet it would come with a cost that you weren’t sure you could afford.

You did the only thing you could think of doing. Your fist collided with the guard’s face with a nasty crunch, causing blood to spew from his nose like a spout. It speckled on your dirty cheeks, tainting them further.

The guard let out a shout, releasing your arm. When his companion attempted to make a grab for you, you bolted, legs carrying you back to the shop Soap had been left in.

Chaos ensued from behind you. You could hear the clamber of guards, racing after you, yelling profanities in the air. The townsfolk stopped to observe, women placing their hands over their mouths in bewilderment, men torn between watching or intervening.

It was a commotion you never planned on starting, and now, all eyes were on you.

Soap came into sight from in front of the store. He looked focused and angry, eyebrows pulled together, jaw set taut. When he locked in on you as well as the guards behind you, there was no relief. His eyes were as intense as the guards had been, if not more.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” you sobbed pathetically, but he gave you no chance to pause your running.

Soap grabbed your hand in his, lugging you along the dirt paths. He swerved the streets, pulling your arm harder every time you fell behind. You struggled to keep up, spots of blood dotting the ground beneath you from the newly open wounds from pebbles that sliced open the soles of your feet.

You were pulled into a narrow alleyway with Soap, out of sight from the guards. Soap’s large hand shoved your head, urging you to crouch down behind a row of barrels that crowded the alley.

Your heart was nearly lurching out of your chest from your hiding space. Pounding footsteps raced past the alley, a cloud of dust filling the air and burning your nose. Voices could be heard shouting nearby, but not close enough for you to make out what they were saying.

Soap and you stayed put, his hand muffling your mouth, body smothering yours. He held his breath, ears listening in for the guards.

After what felt like an eternity, the footsteps grew farther away, voices fading into the wind.

“I trusted ye to stay put, dove,” Soap whispered, voice full of anger and betrayal. “I’ve been nice to ye. Why couldn’t ye just stay like I told ye?”

You whimpered into his hand, low and depressing. You felt defeated. Your fate was undetermined more than ever before, and you feared what the pirates would truly do to you now that you went against their word.

“C’mon,” he huffed, letting go of you and standing from behind the barrels. He grabbed hold of your arm, hauling you up and keeping you in his grip.

Soap crept the two of you through the town, slipping through every crack in the buildings to remain unseen. If people saw you, they remained silent, fearful of the pirate amidst their town.

The closer the two of you got to the ship, the more your heart sunk to your stomach. You were wracked with terror, horrified of the punishment you’d endure. The only thing you could do is let Soap string you along like a puppy on a leash.

“We need to go,” Soap barked at Price. The other men had long returned from their shopping, only awaiting your arrival with Soap. “Now.”

Gaz fluttered away without question, preparing to undock the ship and leave no trail in the town behind. Price and Ghost, on the other hand, were far more concerned.

“What the hell happened?” Ghost asked, voice gruff and dark, eyes narrowed on you.

“Dove tried rattin’ us out,” Soap hissed, throwing a glare your way. You shrunk in his hold, avoiding his eyes and bowing your head low. “Guards are lookin’ high and low. They know we’re here.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” Ghost grunted, leaving the three of you to aid Gaz in prepping the ship for sail. He walked with a looming shadow over him, black and scary, oozing out the mist of pure acrimony.

Price stood tall and terrifying, arms crossed over his chest, the lines of his face firm and tight. He stared at you with a guise of disappointment and resentment, and if looks could kill, you would surely be one of their many victims.

The Captain took a step towards you, leaning down to your height. His hand grabbed hold of your face, fingers digging into your flesh as he forced you to look at him. His eyes were glaring, stabbing you with millions of daggers.

He shifted your head from side to side, inspecting the specks of blood that dotted your face. He was silent, making everything much more unnerving, and when he let go of you, he spared you not another glance.

“Take her to the cell,” Price ordered Soap. “We’ll deal with it later.”

Soap nodded grimly, tugging your arm aggressively so he could guide you to the brig doors. The sight of them made you sick, and you fought in his hold, which did nothing but make you look like a fool.

“Stop squirmin’,” he hissed, irritated. Seeing him without his signature smile made your chest fill with sickening guilt, and it twisted your insides in a painful knot.

The cell welcomed you when you stepped down familiar stairs. It was a slap in the face, seeing it once again, and you wanted nothing more than to take back everything you’d done and apologize to Price until he let you back into the comfort of his quarters.

But there was no going back. The deed was done. This was your price for freedom, and before it was handed to you, it had been snatched right out of your hands.

Soap shoved you into the cell with enough force to ensure you went inside, but gentle enough to make sure you didn’t topple over. Even now, when you’d betrayed his trust, he didn’t aim to hurt you. The pill was suffocating to swallow.

The cell shutting behind you rattled through your ears like a deafening shriek. The lock clicked, and Soap made no effort to move, not yet. Instead, he stood there, eyes boring into you through the bars of your cage.

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came out. So, you stood shamefully, staring at the floor beneath your aching feet.

Something clattered on the floor, and when you shifted your gaze to find it, what stared back at you was a pair of shoes. New, unworn, and pretty. For you.

Looking up at Soap, his expression was unreadable. He no longer looked at you. He seemed just ashamed as you did. It was as if all the anger he had before had diminished, and he now looked like a hurt boy, betrayed and ridiculed.

“I hope they fit,” he said quietly. While you stared at him, he was now the one avoiding looking at you. “Didn’t know what ye liked.”

Soap turned on his heel, trudging up the stairs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. He made no effort to look back at you, to study your stunned expression. Instead, what greeted you was his back as it filtered through the brig doors, shutting behind him with a loud slam.

You looked back at the shoes, careful when you picked them up. They were bland in taste, yet the prettiest thing you’d been gifted in your life.

Soap trusted you to stay while he went to surprise you with a new pair of shoes, and you had only gone behind his back out of fear of his pirate crew that had taken you from your home.

You felt no better than a pirate.

1K notes · View notes

imujings · 9 days ago

Text

[l.jh] home for new year’s

synopsis | it’s the new year, and you and jihoon have some cleaning to do.

♯ pairing(s) | lee jihoon x gn!reader, platonic!svt & gn!reader ♯ genre(s), wc | fluff & established relationship, 1.8k ♯ warnings | drunk soonyoung, svt’s chaotic antics, reader is shorter than jihoon, brief shirtless jihoon (yeah this is a warning), domestic fluff …

jay's musings | hii this is my first fic teehee. i’m soo normal about woozi. tysm @wheeboo for cheering me on with writing c: hoping to write more in the future! <3

“You sure you’ll be alright?” Seungcheol asks, his hands full of various gift bags of different sizes.

He’s standing in the doorway of your flat, his puffy winter coat already on, but he looks ready to sacrifice everything in his arms and on his body at the moment to be elbows deep in dishes. “There’s only two of you,” he continues, his eyes wide with concern. “All together we’d be fourteen, and cleaning would be so much easier.”

A woozy and abrupt buuurp! sounds from behind you. There’s some shuffling, and Jihoon’s grimace is prominent as he leads a giggling Soonyoung to the door. The latter is singing some sort of holiday song, refusing to quiet down despite the exasperated laugh your boyfriend lets out at his antics. Outside, you can hear the warm calls of goodbyes of the others, accompanied by the soft shutting of car doors and the hum of their engines.

Your smile is easygoing, leaning against the foyer’s small closet door. “You’ve already done enough, Cheol,” you insist. “All Jihoon and I have to do is rinse the wine glasses and the food trays. We’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Plus,” your hand flies to your mouth to hide the smile that appears as Soonyoung dramatically collapses against the front door, his head thudding against the material. “I’m not sure if everyone is truly in… the right state to help.”

As if on cue, your endearingly intoxicated friend begins to belt hysterically about lost love, reaching for Jihoon who’s desperately backing away, his own hands clutching to his sides with laughter. Seungcheol scrunches his eyes shut as if he could magically will away the younger man. The echoes of Soonyoung’s singing ring in the stairwell of your flat’s complex, not going ignored by those who have already left. You swear you can hear Seungkwan’s harmonies and Seokmin’s adlibs from up here.

Bidding a final farewell, you watch as Jihoon and Seungcheol carefully guide your friend down the stairwell to the car that’s waiting down below, Joshua in the driver’s seat to take Soonyoung back to his house. Your eyes meet Jihoon’s, crinkling at the corners when he huffs out that he’ll be right back.

It’s unnervingly quiet when you click the door to your flat shut. Turning to the now empty space, a hushed, relaxed puff leaves your lips. The guys were sober enough—save for Soonyoung, apparently—to help clean up to the best of their abilities. Your TV is still on, some old reruns of a sitcom droning on in the background as you finish straightening up the throws on the couch. A soft, cream tufted pillow lays fallen from its place on the lovechair, where only hours before Wonwoo had been lying lazily with Jeonghan against him, the two watching with amused eyes at Seungkwan and Chan’s rap battle. Picking it up, you roll your eyes at finding a crumpled napkin filled with messy tally marks underneath. Ah. Jun’s record of how many times Hansol had goose-laughed during the night.

Giggles bubble out of your mouth before you can stop them. You miss them all already.

Padding softly to the kitchen, you thank the stars that your friends were kind enough to assist in cleaning up. You vaguely remember Mingyu laying the food trays in the sink and stacking their respective warmers away, blessing him a safe drive home and a charger that works without having to angle it weirdly. Fourteen wine glasses ready to be washed were neatly tucked on the counter next to the trays. Luck was on your side, you suppose.

Rolling up the sleeves of your sweater, you let autopilot take over, barely tuning in to hear the sound of the front door unlocking and clinking shut again.

You feel him before you see him and smile.

Jihoon's arms snake around your waist as you turn on the faucet and begin to scrub the glasses. You feel his forehead rest in the space between your shoulder blades, letting the vibration of his soft groan flow through you.

“I am never letting you convince me to host a get-together ever again,” he complains.

There’s no real threat to his words. “You enjoyed it,” you reply with a hum, not as a question but as a statement.

The rinsed wine glasses are placed onto the drying mat upside-down. He pauses, before letting go of your waist and reaching for the towel that rests on the handle of the dishwasher. As he starts to dry off the wine glasses, his hip bumps against yours good-naturedly. “It’s a miracle they didn’t leave the place a mess.”

It’s silent for a little. You take this time to let your mind wander yet again, your gaze flitting to your boyfriend every now and then. You’ve always loved this about Jihoon—his pure dedication to a task. There’s a rawness and undoubted authenticity to his movements, his tongue poking out a little in concentration as he wipes the glasses dry.

Shaking your hands to rid them of water, you giggle as you pass him by to your next chore. You can’t help it, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, laughing louder when his cheeks warm to that familiar shade of cherry that you adore.

However, your mood solemns rather fast. Moving to the counter, you frown as you stare down at the mugs, and then up at the top cupboard shelf. Your gaze drops back down to the cups.

“Ji,” you sigh. “Were these mugs from the top shelf or below?”

“The top shelf,” Jihoon answers easily.

Your frown deepens. You stand fruitlessly on your tiptoes, barely being able to place the mug on the top shelf without it falling back over the side.

“I think I’m too short to reach it.”

He doesn’t even look over from his new location of wiping down the dinner table, humming softly. His tone isn’t unkind when he responds. “Yeah, I know. I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry.”

You two work in tandem, sometimes slipping in light conversation about new gossip the two of you had attained from the party. There’s a tiredness to your movements that’s matched by the man, but you both easily sidestep one another when moving about in the kitchen, picking up where the other left off in a task.

When you’re done, Jihoon looks just about ready to topple over. “I'm never doing this again,” he mutters, eyeing the clock on the wall who’s hands are about to strike twelve and three.

You lean against him and press another soft, lingering kiss to his cheek. “This is the second time you’ve said this now. We don’t have to if you really don’t wanna, but I think you had more fun than you’re letting on.”

Preening, Jihoon gladly leans into your touch, his tone softening. “Still… maybe not next year. We just need a bigger place; our flat is too small to have twelve guests. Plus us.”

Something in you warms at the thought of moving out of your tiny place and into a proper house, a proper home, with Jihoon. Maybe it’s the wine Minghao had convinced you to try (and then had a good few more glasses of, but you would never admit that to him), but as you make a noise of agreement, you try and fail to imagine a home without Jihoon. Home is more than where you sleep for the night, you muse. It’s his toothbrush next to yours on the bathroom sink counter. It’s his hoodies hanging neatly next to your sweaters in your bedroom closet. It’s him, calling your name in that sweet lilt of his, before planting an equally sweet kiss on your lips. Home is Jihoon.

You brush hair out of your eyes, and before you know it, you’re moving together towards your shared room. You call dibs on washing up first, to which Jihoon rolls his eyes and scoffs before pushing you lightly into the unlit space.

“One day,” you murmur as you come out of the bathroom and sit on the edge of the bed, yawning and watching him lazily change into comfier clothes. “One day we’ll have our own place. And a cat, too.”

Jihoon glances back at you with amusement in his eyes, his face relaxed, the tension in his shoulders releasing. He tosses you a shirt of his that lands awkwardly in your lap before disappearing into the bathroom. Squirming out of your clothes and into what you argue is a much more comfortable shirt, you breathe in his unmistakable scent and scroll through your phone, exhaustion starting to creep up on you.

Your eyes flicker up to your boyfriend when he re-emerges, cheeks heating at his lack of shirt, hair disheveled from washing his face. You’ll never get used to it, no matter how many nights you spend together. His insistence of sleeping without a shirt never ended in your complaints, but the sight still left you a little dry-mouthed, swallowing thickly as you turn your phone off and tug the blanket over your tired form. The mattress dips below Jihoon’s knee as he crawls into the bed, slotting against you perfectly. His skin is pleasantly warm.

“Thank you for helping me clean up,” you brush your nose against his and smile.

Jihoon’s breath tingles lightly against your cheek, his tone sluggish as he mumbles against your skin. The only light on now is the one from your digital alarm clock, emitting a tender glow into the room that has you sighing contentedly.

“Why wouldn’t I help? I hosted it, too.”

“I know,” you whisper back playfully, going to tuck your face into the crook of his neck. “And I appreciate you. You did well today.”

He knows the hidden meaning behind your words. And I hope you know you mean the world to me. I love you.

The heater clicks on, warm air beginning to blow from the vents in the corners of your shared bedroom. There’s a comfortable lull, sleep pressing you gently in waves, coaxing you to finally disappear under the surface of reality and into the dream world below. All you can focus on is the slow of Jihoon’s breath, his touch inviting, longing, and full of love. Your Jihoon. Your home.

“You did well today, too. Get some sleep,” he kisses your hair, your mind already surrendering to the bliss that sleep is.

I love you, too. Please love yourself the way I love you.

#woozi x reader #lee jihoon x reader #seventeen x reader #woozi #woozi imagines #woozi fluff #seventeen #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #lee jihoon #lee jihoon fluff #lee jihoon imagines #jay’s musings

782 notes · View notes