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yesimwriting · 4 years ago

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The Needs of Pain

A/n as promised,,, here is my gift to you bc I finished ap gov today :))

The darkling x heartrender!reader story based on the whole ‘no one but me can hurt you’ thing :))

Warnings: sexual innuendos,, attempts to sexualize pain if you squint, kinda lemon-y

I kinda want to write a smutty part 2 let’s see lol

Summary: after a training injury, Kirigan reveals how he views the dynamic of your relationship and figures out how to best help you work through the pian

In an odd way, the most painful part of my injury had been the wound on my pride, not my shoulder. Though the pain that begins beneath my collarbone and continues down my left shoulder is not exactly pleasant. I can’t bring myself to pity myself too much as I stare at the extent of my burns. There’s a war going on. People die, people lose loved ones, I have to tolerate pain for an hour or two before a healer can be sent to be.

I told Genya I’d be fine in the medical wing, but she insisted that I wait for a healer to be sent to me. The people here look up to me, if news of my injury got out, especially considering it’s a training wound, morale would take a blow we can’t currently afford. Genya had looked relatively sympathetic when she told me that many healers were occupied considering how difficult training had been and I had told her I could bear the weight.

Now, in my room, staring at the basin full of water, I’m starting to regret my desire to be self sacrificing. I dip the towel in the water, squeezing out the excess before daring to dab the fabric on the outer edge of the wound. The feeling is fire against my skin all over again. An instinctual curse leaves me as I drop the towel on the counter that surrounds the basin.

Arthur hadn’t meant it. I can still hear the frantic apologies tumbling from his full lips. He should have been more focused on the task at hand, he should have never stopped to look at me, at the way I could control so many living things at once. In some odd sense, his distraction had been a compliment. Many of the girls here would sell anything to have Arthur’s attention, even if it resulted in such a careless mistake.

I grimace, picking up the towel and preparing to start again. I should at least clean it before the healers have to deal with both a physical injury and an infection. The sound of my door flying open and then shutting angrily is enough of a distraction for me to accidentally dab the towel against my skin too harshly. I curse again, turning my head towards the bathroom door. Did Genya exaggerate the severity of my wound? Are the healers that desperate to get to me?

I turn on my toes, towel forgotten by the basen full of water as I approach the door that connects my room with the bathroom. “I’m--” Words meant to calm a frantic healer stick to the back of my throat as soon as I register all the black in the room. General Kirigan. Great. He no doubt heard about my injury after prying it from Genya and now he’s here to scold me for the childishness of it all. To be injured because a boy and I just couldn’t help ‘make eyes at each other’. All he does is insult my refusal to become bitter just because I was born possessing power.

“You’re what?” His words are a different level of callous, darker than the shadows he creates with the will of his mind alone. “An idiot that let herself be sent back to her room instead of demanding to see a healer?”

That’s an odd thing for him to focus his anger on. At least it’s not fully directed at me. On instinct, I half turn, attempting to hide my injury from his piercing eyes. My instinct tells me he should never see me so mortal. “Genya recommended it,” my words are determined yet calm, “It’s such a small injury it isn’t worth risking everyone’s morale. A healer will come here when one is available.”

His face tightens in what must be some kind of disgusted disbelief. “Foolish girl--have you no instinct for preservation?”

Every decision I’ve made since being injured made sense before he spoke to me. The fierceness of his voice leaves my face warmer than it was a moment ago and reminds me of the stem of my dislike for him. General Kirigan speaks and I am left a clumsy child. “Some things are more important than one’s self.” I expect he’ll turn that into something else to mock or belittle about me. “And it’s not a grave injury it’s barely--”

The distance between us seemed so great less than a second ago, but he’s closed it so quickly, grabbing my left wrist and extending my arm forward so that I can’t hide anything from him. “You’re burned.” There’s the slightest bit of surprise coloring his words along with something else I can’t interpret. “How did you get burned?”

Kirigan doesn’t know. My stomach knots, anticipating embarrassment. “Training incident--I was standing too close to an Inferni.”

His grip on my arm tightens. I grimace as he pulls me forward with no regard for my injury. “Who?” The voracious way he says the word leaves my thoughts trembling. He is a void of darkness, starving for a victim to snuff the light out of.

When my thoughts settle, I cannot bring myself to tell him the truth. “I didn’t see, I was distracted by the burning.” I exhale slowly, desperate to escape the flames behind his eyes the way I could not escape the fire of earlier. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve been injured worse in training.” His hold on my arm doesn’t loosen, I glance down at his hand, his firm grip on me somehow worse than the burn. “You’ve injured me worse in training.”

“I may push you, exhaust you, and leave you mad--but I have never done anything that comes close to--that!” The last of his words carry themselves louder than the rest.

If the skin of my shoulder wasn’t so sensitive I’d try fighting his tightening grasp. The accusation on my part had been a little much, but it was meant to serve as a reminder that he’s not one to care about my comfort or well being. “Why does it matter?” I can’t bring myself to meet his gaze. “You’ve never cared about any of my injuries before.”

Kirigan releases my arm in a stiff trance, raising his hand to brush his thumb down my cheek. The contact is reminiscent of an extremely different moment. “The first night here you only let a few tears escape you when you were convinced that no one could see them. Do you remember how I turned and wordlessly wiped them away?” His gesture had not been comforting then and it isn’t comforting now. He never wanted to comfort me, he wanted to assert some strange power over me. “I let those tears fall because they were because of me and I knew it was for the best.” I say nothing, letting his thumb ghost tears that will not come. “The moment I discovered you, what you could be, you became mine.”

“I am no one’s.” The reaction is instinctual, a pride my mother instilled in me. My voice is too loud, too brash. “I am my own.”

I brace myself for his anger, but all I receive is the slight relaxation of his lips. “It’s things like that give you so much potential in other ways.” His voice is a jagged rock caressing my skin, not minding the scrapes it leaves behind. “You’re a fair plaything, as well as useful.”

He’s speaking so gently his voice borders on vulnerable. Something in me warms, but I can’t tell why. I know that Kirigan finds joy in my discomfort--why else would he belittle me so often? “The healer will be here soon.”

“Yes,” he makes no move to leave, instead Kirigan grabs my wrist again, forcing me to turn so that he can analyze the extent of my burn, “Which is why I will ask you again…” I try to catch his gaze, but his stone stare is focused on my burned shoulder entirely. “Who did this?”

“I told you.” He can never know. “It was a training accident.”

“And someone is responsible.”

I let out a breath, tired of feeling so incomplete. I just want to be healed and go to sleep. “Why does it matter?” His fingers trail up my arm patiently, my body betrays me by shivering. “Accidents happen, you’ve put me in more risk than--”

“I’ve always intended to break you one way or another,” his voice is more supple than it’s ever been before, “Your goodness is too tempting to not tarnish.” He turns my wrist over easily, ignoring my slight wince. “But if someone else were to do it…” Kirigan trails off, expression tightening in a way I can’t read, “I don’t let others break my play things.”

Some strange resolve in my chest cracks at that. “Kirigan--”

“Who are you protecting?” He moves his free hand, placing it without reservation on my shoulder. “Not telling me will only make it worse.”

Thoughts of Arthur paying for such a small mistake leaves my stomach rolling in guilt. “Make what worse?”

His expression tightens again. I wait for some kind of rebuke. Kirigan’s lips part as if he expects to criticize my naivety, but instead of speaking he turns sharply. He doesn't release his grip on my wrist as he leads me into my bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

Kirigan ignores my surprise, releasing me to pick up the towel I was so quick to abandon. “If you’re too good to take a healer from someone, you should at least avoid infection.”

“I’m not an idiot, I was cleaning it.” The sharpness of my tone is ignored, Kirigan simply places one hand on my forearm to keep me in place. “Wha--”

He brushes his thumb over my pulse gently in an effective attempt to silence me. I part my lips in hopes of protesting, but something odd reflects across his eyes. It must be some trick of the light because his expression seems...hesitant. Maybe even concerned. And then cool fabric is pressed into my burn. I bite my tongue so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t bleed.

“Saints.”

His expression shifts to that of almost amusement. “I think I’d like to hear you curse in a,” he exhales softly, fingertips trailing up my forearm, “Slightly different scenario.”

The shock of such a bold innuendo clears my mind from thoughts of pain. But the most startling thing is that the innuendo isn’t entirely unwanted. In the wake of my surprise, he presses the wet towel into my wound again. I fight against a grimace, but that doesn’t go unnoticed by Kirigan. Instead of mentioning it, his free arm touches my uninjured shoulder. For the first time since he’s come here I’m aware of how improper my attire is. I changed out of my starched kefta and into a silk nightgown in order to leave my shoulder unbothered. Genya had helped me change, bearing all of my grimacing and pained curses.

I should push him off of me. Kirigan can get away with a lot because of his status, but I by no means have to allow something like this. I should not feel shy, I should not be embarrassed. He’s the one that’s out of line. I look up into his eyes, prepared to yell at him for being so out of line. But when I meet his eyes, I see something so un-monstrous I am left breathless. There’s a gentleness to the way he tilts his head downwards, eyes never leaving mine. Is he asking for permission? Permission to--to what? I stay frozen as his lips brush against the unmarred side of my collarbone. His touch is almost enough to make me forget pain ever existed. He pulls away enough that I can feel his breath against the base of my neck. Thoughts I’d never dare speak are banished as the towel presses against my skin again. My face cringes immediately, but he’s quick to press his lips to the base of my neck, lingering kisses melting into my skin.

“I thought you said you were fine.” His chiding is half-hearted, whispered between two brief kisses against my bare ski.

He dabs the towel on the burn again, but before I can think to complain, his lips are against my skin again. This time, his lips part slightly allowing his teeth to graze over my pulse. Kirigan pulls away slightly, expression hardening, “I’m almost sorry about this part.” His words leave him in a whisper as influential as sin.

“What part?” My voice feels foreign in my throat.

Kirigan doesn’t reply, but then I feel the sharpest pain yet. The towel is cleaning the worst of the burn, the ruined patch of skin that will never recover without supernatural intervention. The gasp I let out is that of a bird with shattered wings. A cry forms in the base of my throat, but before it can leave me, Kirigan’s teeth bite into the skin above my pulse. The pained sound is reduced by my shock, twisting in an odd combination of some kind of pained sound and something dangerously close to a moan.

He releases me with one last soft brush of his lips, straightening his back and retracting the towel. “There.” Kirigan drops the towel onto the bathroom counter. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

I can still feel the ghost of his lips, tongue, and teeth against my skin. I understand now. Each kiss had been a way to distract me, to lessen the pain. Something odd swells in my chest as I try to will my eyes to stop watering in pain.

Kirigan presses his lips together, pressing his hand against my cheek again. His thumb brushes the few stray tears that escape me. “Don’t cry,” his tone is pure velvet, “I won’t tolerate tears in your eyes caused by anyone else.” He tilts his head oddly, hand sliding down my cheek before gripping my jaw, “I can provide reason for your tears if you’d like.”

Inhaling deeply, I continue to stare at him. Today has been so sudden. He’s flirted with me through strangely sexual insults and threats before, but never has he been so forward about it.

“I’m fine,” I force my voice to remain clear. He nods once. A soft rap at my door has me turning away from him. “The healer--I shoul--”

“Come in,” he calls, voice clear and leaving no room for argument.

My eyes widen. To be caught with him here could be detrimental for my reputation. Kirigan pulls away, something sharp playing at his features, something almost humorous.

He leaves the bathroom like this is his own room. “Her wound is clean, work quickly.” I walk out of the bathroom in a strange trance. Kirigan’s gaze lands on me as I enter the main part of my room, “I need her at her full strength for what I have planned.”

There’s a heaviness to his words, a weight that tells me he means more than what his words imply. Goosebumps erupt across my skin as I try to banish the thoughts of his mouth against my skin between inflictions of pain, blending together to create the most intense sense of fight or flight I’ve ever experienced.

Kirigan begins to approach the door to my room. “I’ll be checking on her later.”

People that asked to be tagged in this/expressed interest:

@luminous-99 @voyevoda-thejoy @voidmalfoy @i-padfootblack-things @all-art-is-quite-useless @buckverse @mandowh0re @uhanddreag

@we-love-our-bandz

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soft-boi-eli · 3 years ago

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okay I literally just made this acc bc there's no anon requests and I have an idea that I asked someone else but they turned it down and I'm lowkey embarrassed that they denied my request. I PINKY PROMISE ITS NOT BAD, HERE ME OUT

do you think you can write a lil bit about schlatt ending up having to "babysit" the reader (even though she's dead ass 18 lmaoo) because her parents are strict and don't trust her and they think Schlatt is a good influence because his parents are "🇺🇲🍟🐟🐷" but he's genuinely nice and respectful of other peoples views and opinions (unlike his other family). Basically Schlatt was like "aww hell yeah we're gonna play video games until 4am and watch action movies and be homies there's no parents stopping us" but the reader gets her period and she's just like laying around in misery and schlatt literally doesn't know what to do (bc yk periods are supposed to be a secret shhh) so he looks up what to do when girls get their period so while she's sleeping he just goes out and buys a bunch of stuff for her and its just fluffy (DONT FORGET PLATONIC) and the reader wakes up to all this stuff and its just 🥰 anyways she ends up falling asleep while watching Schlatt play COD.

(the reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns)

This is amazing. I have one other request but I am going to hop right on this one. Also sorry about the anon thing. I'm still newish to tumblr and I have no clue on how to turn it on. I've been trying to but i seriously cant find it. 😭

If this takes a bit I do apologize sincerely.

Pronouns:she/her

Warnings:periods cursing, strict parents.

Schaltt with an AFAB bff reader that he 'babysits'

Your parents. Thay dont know when to let you go.

Teaching you everything about females are supposed to be like this or that. Periods arent supposed to be talked about. They were the strict, bible Americans.

The best way to put it. Periods meant sin. And you were supposed to hide it. You were 18 in their eyes you're still a child. A child that worked 2 jobs just to hopefully live away from them.

But there was that rare day where you had it off from both jobs and could just relax.

That was until you heard there was someone coming to babysit you. You're a perfectly capable 18 year old. Not a toddler.

Yet your parents didn't trust you. You have a bed time of 10pm. And they got a baby sitter just for that.

He was there on time. And he looked you up and down in confusion. "This is who I'm babysitting right?" He looked the same age as you. "Alright. There will be no problem. They'll be in bed by 10pm. They'll have dinner at 6PM. And shower at 8pm." Your parents nodded in agreement and he watched them walk off. Shutting the door he looked at you. "Yeah. No. You are a grown woman and I'm not going to force you to do that. Also you're not paying me. You like call of duty? Action movies?" Perking up you nodded. "Yeah!"

He smirked. "Yeah. You up for a long night of movies and games?"

That day bloomed a friendship. The fourth time he came over you two were like best friends.

But the fifth time you seemed like you were dying. Laying around. Not wanting to play games. Not wanting to watch movies.

He was so concerned about you. Like deadass he thought you were dead his parents never saw the importantace of him learning what a period.

When you said the word period he was confused he searched it up and felt dread. You went through what every momth?! You can have so many symptoms yet nothing to help it?! What the fuck!

"Bro you want anything? Need anything?" You looked at him. He looked so concerned for you. "Heating pack. Dark chocolate. Please." He was quick to nod and start the heating pack.

Looking around the kitchen he couldnt find any dark chocolate and there was a store across the street. "You want strawberry ice cream and dark chocolate?"

The quite yeah was heard and he was off and back the heating pack fully heated and the ice cream that perfect texture. And a huge ass bar of dark chocolate. Along with a huge gallon of three flavored ice cream.

You know the neapolitan shit. You were so confused.

"Movie marathon or watching me play COD?" you thought for a sec. "COD." he nodded and sat next to you.

As you ate the sweet strawberry cream with frozen strawberries. Turns out he was preparing for when you finished you ice cream with the gallon.

When he saw you pint empty and you getting slightly sad he paused the game. In the middle of the campaign. And got you a huge ass bowl of the three ice creams.

You had never seemed so happy. Half way through the bowl you rested your head on his lap. You just wanted to sleep now and that's what you did.

You didnt know that schaltt left once more. Buying popcorn, your favorite candy, he felt embarrassed about this but he took a picture of the pads you use, like brand, size and everything. Got you quiet a few packs of them to be safe. Chips, chicken nuggets, even stuff to make your favorite meal by scratch. Stumbling into the stuffed animal aisle he scarned the shelves.

Finding a huge one with a zipper in it you had mentioned your parents have been trying to take your money and you could technically hide it in there.

Checking out the cashier gave him a weird look. But he didnt give two shits, he literally carried it back to your place. No car to help. He took that mile long walk with the bags and got back right before you woke up. Pads in the bathroom everything set up so it was easy access. And the stuffed snorlax was huge.

Like a fuckin bed huge.

He didnt wake you. Just started up his game again.

When you did wake up you were covered in a blanket, snacks set out in a nice array of candy to chips.

Four drinks. Two waters and one coke with the other being your favorite kind of soda.

Then the heavenly scent that came from the kitchen. And before you could even get up to see what it was schaltt came out two (bowls/plates) of your favourite food.

"You didnt have to do this." He shook his head. "I wanted to. You're in pain and all that shit. You need to relax, keep hydrated, stay warm. All of it. And I might as well take care of my best friend."

I have finished. I do apologize if this isnt fully what you wanted!! And the other person was quite mean. I dont reject unless I fully explain it and tell them gently.

But I hope this is good. I have been quite busy as of late due to it being the first and all.

But yeah. Nearly died today and all. Roller coasters, indeed fun, but sometimes unsafe.

It's all good though had lots of fun at a fair, keeping safe with covid and all, I even got a shiny rock I am very happy.

Anyways have a good day!!

#jschlatt x reader #mcyt fluff #schlatt x reader #mcyt schlatt #mcyt #mcyt headcanons #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt platonic #mcyt x y/n

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mojwisungie · 4 years ago

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hc | boyfriend ♡

req (from: unheoly) ➥ : Hi ate Louise! Can I please get general boyfriend hc for Mark and Jaemin? 🥺 Thank you <33 have a great day/night ✨

☄︎ summary: as athena requested,, just some general boyfriend hcs ♥ ☄︎ with: mark lee, na jaemin ☄︎ lou.note: THIS . is so self indulgent and messy bc i have so many thoughts on bf mark and jaemin hahaha enjoy reading!! <3

ੈ⋆ renjun & jisung ver.

Mark

the fully capable, always reliable boyfriend

he’s always there when you need him!!

and sometimes you dont even need to tell him- its his spidey senses

struggling with an essay? mark will talk you through your thoughts so you can write

havent eaten breakfast or lunch ? expect for food to be delivered at your door step

need cuddles? he will burst through your room unexpectedly

if you dont drink enough water, be ready for a text from him saying “drink water rn i know you havent and its already noon 🤨”

he just knows what need, okay? questions dont need to be asked !!

mark likes to send you random pics throughout the day too

he could be at an album shoot but will still send you a pic of a flower prop with “look its so pretty! just like you :)”

i think he can cook... keyword: think

so if he has this dish that he’s already mastered he’ll make it for you

he’ll still be up for takeouts though

BUT if its you who knows how to cook,, well youve got yourself a loyal customer

he’ll probably use his charms puppy eyes when he wants you to cook a certain food for him

regarding arguments, he can be a little bit distanced at first

since he knows he could say something or raise his voice even tho he doesnt mean it (like have you heard him scream at the dreamies ksadjas)

sp he’ll take some time to cool off but he will talk with you as soon as you two could

and with that, fights are never a problem honestly

moving on to: dates

he’s really a pro at it by now

opening all doors for you, carrying your bag for you, holding the chair out so you can sit, etc.

i can see him liking to go out on karaoke nights with you,, but he really loves spending quiet days with you

one memorable date you two had was when you spent the whole weekend together

he never felt so much peace and comfort before in his life ( ˘⌣˘)

mark usually plays the guitar for you on facetime

when you spend nights together he will still do so

he’s never said it, but one of his favorite things is to see you fall asleep beside him while he’s singing to you :’)

being with him is such an experience but you wouldnt have it any other way

mark is your adventure and your home

Jaemin

the all-in-one, ever-loving boyfriend

you love him, your family loves him, your grandparents love him, your friends love him,,,, everybody just loves him

he’s an introvert but he does all he can to make a good impression on the people who are important to you

its bc he’s big on the family and friends acceptance thing too

and its also because he’s never been so sure about spending the rest of his life with you haha but you dont need to know about this .. yet

jaemin is the embodiment of the word ‘everything’

the reason is he’s not just a boyfriend

he’s your best-friend, teacher, chef, bodyguard, and so. much. more

honestly think of something you’d like in a guy right now

you know who has it in him? its na jaemin.

he really cares for you and wants you to have only the best

you always say, “i already have you, jaemin so i already do have the best”

he will malfunction on the spot, no cap

but anyways,, he’ll do anything you ask him to

need some help with cleaning? alright he’ll be there in a few

want some bobba at 2 am? unlock your door he’s already bought your favorite

his phone is filled with your face

he’d have thousands of things in his gallery,, but more than half of those are just your pics and videos

his homescreen is a goofy picture of you two when you guys went to lotte world

but his lockscreen would only be you,, he took it when you were sleeping on his shoulder on the way home

HE’S JUST SO SOFT AND LOVING ♥(╯︵╰,)♥

besides physical affection, he’s the number one on words of affirmation as well

jaemin says all the words you need to hear in every situation you’re in

and arguments usually doesnt happen bc of that

he’s very open and will encourage you to be so too, bc he never wants to waste a moment in this lifetime not talking to you or being mad at each other

/drumroll/ now we’re on dates!

he’s not a big fan of going outside (i can feel it in my guts)

but as i said,, he’ll do anything for you so a picnic near the han river or biking around a park will still be nice for him

i think cafe dates would be a thing with you two

and jaemin ... gosh hold on

he’s so sweet !! and so he’ll be the type to let you taste his food and if you like his better, he wont mind letting you have it

and ~fancy~ date nights, he’d be the type to cut your food (like those big steaks) so you could eat first

nights with him are out of this world (not that ya nasties)

what im talking about is how he prepared for these sleepovers

he’s sheets would be fresh from laundry

and his room would smell like heaven bc he would have your favorite scent sprayed before you come over

and !!! youre wearing matching pajamas <33

during these nights, you’d often have deep conversations

he loves it the most bc he gets to hear your most honest opinions

and your voice is the last thing he’ll hear before drifting off 😌

nothing can compare to having him in your life

because even if its one hell of a ride,

jaemin is gonna be there beside you though it all

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago

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handmaid - 06

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap, sexual content (18+)

A/N: i’m so happy you guys are enjoying this reader specifically. i have a soft spot for ingenues mostly because i was always type casted as the ingenue when i used to be in musicals and love to defend ingenues (mostly cosette bc everyone hates cosette FOR ZERO REASONS STOP HATING COSETTE).

i was a bit afraid she would come out as very annoying (once again she is heavily inspired by cosette and christine and everyone hates cosette for, and i shall repeat again, no reason) but i’m rly glad everyone seems to enjoy this version if y/n. hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

NEXT CHAPTER

White. That was the very first thing she saw, the pure white, unspotted celling of her bedroom as she woke up. The sunlight warmly caressed her skin, reminded her that she did not remember when or how she had fallen asleep. If she had purposely done so, she would’ve closed the curtains but the warmness of her face told her otherwise.

Lazily, she raised her chest from the bed, sheets bunched up in one of her fists pressed against her chest. Y/N glanced over to the alarm clock on her nightstand, 5 AM, and then to her figure, she was still to get out of her undergarments and petit coat from last night. She guessed, she must’ve fallen asleep waiting for Gwen. As that came into her head, she rushed out of her bedroom, her feet padded over the dark floors until she reached her friend’s room, gently and slowly opening the door. Her worries subsided once she saw her friend sleeping on top of her duvet, dress and shoes still on. Well, at least she was home.

- I’ve already checked on her. - Y/N slowly closed the door, her breathe getting stuck in her throat as she recognised Sebastian’s voice. In all honesty, she still did not know how to react around him, specially after last night.

Nevertheless, she turned around, her body facing his despite the distance between the both of them. He was in much more casual wear, a far cry from the constantly pristine pressed suits he wore, wearing a loose white tee shirt with some grey sweatpants. Still, despite being dressed in approachable clothing, he still looked more intimidating than every man she had ever met. Who was she kidding? Even the loose tee and sweatpants were probably more expensive than everything she owned all together.

Sebastian, on the other hand, felt his throat and mouth water up at the sight in front of him. The once very polished hairstyle had collapsed, probably during her sleep, and she was bare faced, rid of any makeup. However, it wasn’t that which sparked wild thoughts in his mind, it was what she was wearing. A white lacy bustier met by a voluminous white petticoat and a garter holding her stockings in place. She looked straight out of his wildest fantasies and he had to clear his throat before he could say anything else to her.

- I can get the maid to prepare you some breakfast, if you wish. - he tried to look at anything but her body but god, did she looked like the most delightful thing he’d ever set his eyes on. - Anything you want.

- I think I’ll just sleep for a little longer. - she gave him her signature sweet and soft smile. He just nodded, afraid his voice would fail him as she passed by, her floral scent invading all his senses. She always smelled nice and he felt like a teenage boy admitting just how her scent alone drove him wild. Flowery, fresh, exactly what he expected someone of that level of naiveté to smell like. Innocent.

As she disappeared from the hallway onto her bedroom to sleep until a regular hour, Sebastian bolted into his and from there straight into his own personal bathroom. Taking his clothes off, he stepped into the shower and turned the cold water on. He knew better not to think that way about her, specially her of all people who’d probably be by his future wife’s side for the rest of her life. Yet, he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop thinking of her plump lips, her polite sweet little smile and how the lace stood against her skin. Fuck. She was the most gorgeous little thing ever created.

The water rushed down his back, pooling at the porcelain floors of his shower while his hands were held up against the dark marbled walls. His lips were slightly parted as his mind took him back to her, her breasts caged by her bustier, her slightly parted plumped lips she would bite on whenever she felt any sort of embarrassment ... god did he want to bite that lip himself. At this point, half his mind was telling him to go for it while the other half was telling him he was going to hell for this, for thinking about such a precious thing is such a dirty manner. Hell didn’t scare him, he already had a first class ticket there so he might as well relish into the sins of the flesh.

His hand lowered down from the wall down to his bulge, mind fixated on Y/N, on the memory of when he had first meet her. God, she looked even more stunning on her knees and he couldn’t help but imagine her plump lips around him, taking all of him with those innocent eyes starring up.

He gripped his cock, taking a long initial stroke up and down and then a few more times. A loud groan escaped his lips as he pictured her on his bed, how pretty she would look moaning and squirming under him as she brought her to the best type of pleasure possible.

- Fuck, Y/N ... - he moaned, thumb swiping over the red tip and threw his head back. He stroked himself a couple of times more in corkscrew like motions, groaning as he reached his release. - Fuck.

He leaned his head against the wet marble walls, feeling the cold water rush down his back. Fucking hell, how was he gonna cope with her constantly padding around his house with an innocence of a Disney princess come to life. As he stepped out of the shower, he heard a knock on his door. It better not be fucking Gwen, he thought to himself. The last thing he needed was for Gwen to come over and annoy him with trivial questions.

Sebastian pulled his underwear and sweatpants from the floor, putting them on before walking to the door of his bedroom, opening it to see a very concerned Y/N standing there.

- Are you alright? I heard you calling out for me? - god fucking damn it, he thought to himself. There she was standing worried about him and all he could think about was picking her up and throw her into his bed. - You have very thin walls.

- I think it might just be your lack of sleep playing tricks on you, angel. - Sebastian glanced at her face wondering if she had bought it, yet considering she was very tired and it was 5.30, she did. However, there was a hint of worry in her eyes.

- Are you sure? You look really red. - she raised her hand, moving it to touch his forehead which she would’ve done successfully had Sebastian not grabbed her wrist mid air. He knew that what he needed the least right now was for her to touch him. If she did, he would’ve probably need to jump back into the shower and stay there for a good hour.

- I’m alright, Y/N. Go back to bed and sleep. - Y/N wasn’t very convinced he was alright but decided to return to her bedroom nonetheless. She sat on the edge of her mattress, wondering if sleep was ever gonna come back.

After a few minutes rolling around in her sheets, she came to the conclusion she couldn’t go back to sleep. Y/N got dressed in some leggings and a big hoodie, finally getting rid of the petticoat and the bustier that was starting to make her rather uncomfortable. Opening the door to her bedroom slightly, she peaked her head out, watching Sebastian walk into his office followed by a couple of men, already fully dressed up. She preferred him in his casual wear but by the sheer amount of men following him into his office, she guessed he was about to have a meeting. She sighed, grabbed her phone from the dresser by the door and went down the stairs to the kitchen where one of the maids, Amelia, was.

- Good morning, Miss Y/N. - the middle aged woman smiled at the handmaid, the first person she saw today. - What would you like for breakfast?

- It’s okay, Amelia. I can do it myself, you don’t need to tire yourself.

- Miss Y/N, it is my job to take care of you and Miss Gwen. - she turned the kettle on before standing on the opposite side of the balcony. - I can cook you whatever you want.

- I don’t wanna be a bother.

- Miss Y/N, if you don’t ask me for food, then what am I supposed to do for the rest of the day? Mr. Stan doesn’t take kindly to people slacking off.

- Could I get a poached egg on toast, then? - Y/N still didn’t feel comfortable asking for stuff. Technically and contractually speaking she was an employee like Amelia and the other bodyguards yet she still got treated like Gwen. Her mind kept screaming at her it wasn’t exactly fair. - But I do the dishes later, deal?

- If you insist, Miss Y/N. - Amelia turned the toaster on, slicing two slices of sourdough bread and sticking them in the device before setting the water to boil in order to poach the egg. Y/N just stared, enjoying the low sounds of the kitchen appliances until screams started coming from Sebastian’s office which made her skip a breathe, not expecting the loud noise.

She could hear him scream at his men from his office in a language she had never heard. She wasn’t afraid of him screaming, the time to be scared of him was long gone and she would fear him more whenever she disobeyed him rather than when he screamed at his goons. Y/N was more than used to hear powerful men scream at their employees. She sipped on her tea, eyes moving from his office’s door at the top at the stairs to Amelia who was equally drinking the hot beverage, ignoring the noise.

In the middle of all the noise, a very annoyed Gwen, still wearing her red gown, came down the stairs. Her eyes were still filled with sleep and laziness while the rest of her features showed a completely lack of ignorance towards the noise that probably woke her up.

- Amelia, get me the greasiest plate of bacon you can manage and a cappuccino. - Gwen muttered, her head pounding at any amount of noise as she took a place next to Y/N. - This house fucking sucks.

- Maybe if you didn’t get drunk that wouldn’t have happened. - Y/N raised from her seat to help Amelia with Gwen’s breakfast order, turning the coffee machine on. The heiress just scoffed, leaning against the plush leather seats of the high chairs standing by the balcony. Who needed a mother’s reprimanding nature when Y/N was around?

The handmaid placed a cup of coffee in front of Gwen who immediately downed half of it, along with some pain killers to take care of the impending headache caused by too much fine wine and champagne. Nevertheless, much to Gwen’s annoyance, the screams got louder as the door to the office opened and a bunch of very grown yet very scared men walked out still being screamed out by Sebastian who then closed the door with a bang.

Gwen waved at the men as they entered the lift, her flirtatious nature still shining over the impending doom of her hangover. She was flirty and no matter how engaged she was, she was still gonna be herself and Y/N had to applaud her for that.

- I’m gonna take Sebastian some tea. Gwen, please make sure you take those and drink plenty of water, please. - she warned, silver tray in hand.

Mr. Forrest always enjoyed a nice cold glass of whiskey after a blown out fight with his associates, however, Y/N thought that alcohol wasn’t something Sebastian should be having after last night. Despite him not showing any signs of a hangover, he still had downed a significant amount of champagne flutes while she was by his side and what he needed right now was some nice chamomile tea.

Filled with courage that was slightly wavering, Y/N climbed the stairs up to his office, fist lightly knocking on the wood of the door. When no answer came, she knocked again but this time she got a very arrogant “What?” back.

- Sebastian? - she opened the door up to a fringe, eyes roaming inside the office.

- Y/N, what is it? - his tone seemed to soften as she walked into the room, closing the door behind with her foot. He had to say, he was rather disappointed she was no longer wearing the lacy undergarments. - Is that for me?

- Yes. - she placed the silver tray on top of his desk. - I thought you would need something to calm you down.

- The sentiment is sweet, angel, but I severely doubt tea is gonna calm me down. - he sighed and she furrowed her brows. No problem or worry was big enough that it couldn’t at least be temporarily forgotten with a nice warm cup of tea.

- Is everything alright? - she asked, concern on her voice. He bite the inside of his cheek lightly before replying to her questions, wondering if he really wanted to explain mob business to her. - Sebastian?

- Just need to get some affairs in order. Take this as a lesson Y/N, if you want something done correctly do it yourself.

- I’ve known that since kindergarten. Did they not teach you that? - he chuckled, not being used to hearing her joke around.

- Please warn Genevieve that I’m going to Paris late this evening to get it sorted. Not that she cares very much about my whereabouts but just in case she wants to smuggle someone else into my home.

- You’re going to Paris? - her eyes lit up at the mention of the French capital. She had gone there once with Gwen but she mostly hanged around the resort flirting around with as many men as she could and, as per usual, Y/N had to follow her around to ensure she didn’t get kidnapped or taken advantage of. Not that it was easy to take advantage of Gwen, she just ... needed constant supervision to make sure she made the safest and soundest decision possible.

- Don’t get so excited, angel. It’s an highly overrated city filled with people that can’t do their job correctly. - even with the backhand comment, there was still a sparkle in her eye. - If you’d like, you can accompany me but I assure you it won’t be as fun as movies make it sound.

- Oh no, I can’t ... - she played with her fingers, looking down at her shoes in disappointment. - Gwen is a bit ... sick from last night and I have to take care of her.

- So? - he lifted an eyebrow at her statement. - Ask her to come too. I’m sure she won’t deny a free trip to Paris.

tag list: @sideeffectsofyou @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @nikkipea

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan drabble #mob boss!sebastian stan #mob!sebastian stan #mafia!sebastian stan #sebastian stan au #mob!au

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yeocult · 4 years ago

Text

ATEEZ as students studying

HONGJOONG:

king of self-care! but studies for 15 minutes then take a 2 hour break and calls it self-care (omg he thinks he’s me or smth)

has power naps every single day at least 30 mins because he’s Stressed

always thinking of ways to drop out during the middle of lectures

that one kid that talks to nobody & sits at the back of the class with his hood on to hide his airpods

doesn’t do it anymore bc one time it disconnected and “there’s some whores in this house” blasted out loud & now he’s paranoid

shows up to group studies but lets the group carry him,,, but he puts out One Really good idea to get his name on the paper

only cares about topics he’s interested in, other than that he’s just astral projecting

“yo can you send me your answers so i can compare mine?” but he copies it and says “we got the same answers” (all men do is lie</3)

calculates his marks; “ok so i need at least a 80 on this...oh wait no, a 95...damn okay...”

the type to arrives late with ice coffee

SEONGHWA:

wakes up at 5 am to study instead of staying up

scented candles and lofi music for the ~studying mood~

a linguistic learner

learns best by teaching others so he’ll do group studies often to help other people

teaches people without making them feel dumb

uses grammarly for his emails with 3 paragraphs asking 1 question with a proper greeting and a ‘sincerely, park seonghwa’

professor: ok - sent from iphone

you’ll never see him during exams week, he’s Gone

a loyal user of the outline method

his desk must be cleared at all times! a clean workspace makes it easier to focus

brings extra pencil just in case anyone needs them bc he’s the sweetest person ever (he’s fully aware that he’ll never get them back but it’s okay bc sharing is caring)

does his readings on time (you’ll never catch him slacking)

actually has his shit together for the most part 1/2

YUNHO:

writes “i love you” or “sorry” at the end of his tests (that he bombed)

the type to ask you to print “just one thing real quick” and it’s 15 page and at 2 am

uses emojis like :D & \(^o^)/ when sending emails to his professors

has a bad habit of copying word for word on the slide and he doesn’t actually understand/learn anything

goes to the library bc he thinks that’ll help him be in the ~studying vibe~

it doesn’t. ends up texting or watching youtube gameplay

has never heard of the colour-coding system in his entire life and ends up with a page filled with neon highlight

snacks breaks are the only thing keeping him Normal

leaves himself an encouraging note at the end of the reading page so when he’s finished he feels good !!

friends with all of the professors and uses all office hours

strongest points are his guessing skills in multiple-choice questions (process of elimination ftw!)

he tries his best, doesn’t care about marks that much because he knows it doesn’t determine him (and he’s right!)

YEOSANG:

probably runs a studyblr/gram

has the cutest note ever, his handwriting is so pretty!!

he thinks that buying an ipad pro & apple pencil will make him smarter

likes it bc he can doodle on it then erase them easily :”)

has to wear blue ray glasses because of how he looks at a screen so much

mildliners, muji 0.38 gel pen, 6 ring binder, minimal planner, washi tapes, you name it! he visits muji and daiso every other week

buys wayyy too many planners and notebooks which he never ends up using

only uses pastel mildliners because they’re easy on the eyes. cringes every time he sees yunho’s highlighters v_v

his flaw is that he spends 10 mins writing his header with brush tip pens

mutes the group project gc but gets his part done like the good classmate he is

sweats every time he gets an assignment back, takes a whole ten minute to mentally prepare himself

a visual learner; makes mind maps, flow charts, etc

actually has a working printer that he uses pretty often to prints lessons before class just to be Extra prepare

tells everyone he slept well but his bullet journal habit tracker for sleep says otherwise (plz rest!!)

exclusively uses college ruled paper like the sane person he is

SAN:

uses wide-ruled paper (unfortunately not everyone is perfect</3)

starts off very positive, motivated, and organized

then everything goes downhill by the second week

will definitely set byeol on top of his keyboard, take a picture, and send it to his professor as an ‘excuse’ as why he needs an extension (it works)

can’t sit still for any longer than 30 mins, his legs are always bouncing or fidgeting with pen

flashcard king! spends a lot of time on them but it’s worth it

a utensil chewer (always willing to share his pencil but when ppl saw the bite marks they’re like No Thanks >_>)

can’t study well with groups or himself bc he’ll be distracted,,, so he needs one person that can ground him bc when they’re in the zone, he will too be on his x game mode

sends his assignment at 11:58 pm hoping his professor will take the Hint (plz don’t be afraid to ask for help u_u)

prefers listening to ghibli studio soundtracks but then he either gets emotional or sleepy

sometimes forget to mute his mic and we just hear him groaning in frustration

“haha sorry i just stubbed my toe...”

then mutes his mic and goes back to his mental breakdown

MINGI:

the only person that studies every single day just to get his brain used to the information and running

probably listens to anime op or edm music for that Energy Boost

everyone either hates or love him because...

1. loves him bc he always comes clutched with study guides (and willing to share if he likes you enough)

2. he’s good at everything even if he’s not paying attention/doing it last minute

just naturally good at retaining information and applying them

asks Big Brain question that even the professors are shook

sometimes he gets super into the topic and wants to know Everything

“i’ve never failed an exam in my life” and he’s right! big brain mingi

fetal flaw is that he forgets easily (hence why the last minute) and has to write on his palm as a reminder

clicks his pens All the time so he switched to pens with caps just to keep others from jumping him

takes naps 10 mins before classes

actually has his shit together for the post part 2/2

“if no one got me, i know khan academy and quizlet got me. can i get an amen”

WOOYOUNG:

y’all know that one mf that doesn’t have a pencil?

yea he’s been using the same one someone lend to him before a test and never returned it

it’s been two months and it’s still working well and they’re never going to get it back

a minimalist,,,, but in a bad way</3 bc he carries his stolen pencil and paper that he spilled his energy drink over and that’s about it

just throw loose papers in his bag and forgets about their existence

doesn’t do binders or notebooks, just crumbled up paper

sometimes carries a textbook just to show everyone that he’s got his life together

really noisy for No reason, always wants to know other’s marks

a kinesthetic learner

hides his screen with he gets the kahoot questions wrong (you’ll never catch him slippin)

plays coolmathgames.com during class

doesn’t really know what to study/prioritize so he overwhelms himself with every single topic ever

thinks he’s god by pulling an all-nighter to look at the 60+ slides last minute

Swears he’ll change and do better next semester,,,</3

goes to the cafe, takes pictures of his notes & laptop, post it on his story, then leaves

JONGHO:

thrives off of red bull and ice americanos

gets notes and study guides from his upperclassmen because everyone loves jongho

an audio learner so he’ll probably work out or go on a jog while listening to lessons/audiobook

never pulls all-nighters bc it messes up his sleep schedule and says he’ll do it in the morning but he never does

doesn’t even own a highlighter, he’ll circle or underline stuff with a red or black pen

has never touched a textbook in his life

only the study guides and slides, his textbook is collecting dust rn

his notes are literally Only for him because his handwriting only makes sense to him

has questionable handwriting,,, it’s like decoding

multitasks a lot but it ends up taking a lot longer than he wanted to (bc it’s a myth)

very spontaneous; he’ll grind for 5 hours straight but sometimes he won’t even touch a pencil

works best when he talks about the work in groups and share information with each other, like having a convo about the topic

unmutes his mic Once after the lesson to say “bye”

does his work right after the lessons but then takes a short break & doesn’t even Look back for the rest of the night

a/n: tag yourself ! i’m a bit of hohong (i projected myself on all of them in some way lmaooo)

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incubae-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Someday [AU!Raestrao]

Pairing: AU!James x Female!Reader

Warnings: Major angst, trigger warning for a dark-ish theme.

A/N: hi im alive and this is what I have to give. I will never get into explicit details of the things AU!James endured, but what I am implying can be triggering for some. This AU gets very dark and it stems from my shitty mind I guess? When playing the game, I felt like their ‘father’ would actually be far worse and that their mothers would be their only saving grace. They simply became corrupted because of him. Especially when he took their physical forms. I feel like he’d take their forms bc they were, in his eyes, making his potential heirs weak. While he intends for james to take over, he still needed back-ups should he or any of his brothers fail. Also I want to flesh out my au. Prepare for another like this, but with sam having a weird premonitional dream of his love, and waking up to cold reality. oop

Featherlight touches of warmth glide across his bare skin. It feels as though someone is tracing soft patterns along the expanse of his chest and neck. For some odd reason, he does not panic. He simply lays still and basks in the sweet attention. He has no idea who is touching him but... he does not feel gross. He feels.. happy?

He can hear her huff out a soft laugh near his ear, her breath ever so slightly brushing on his skin. A sweet scent wafts past his nose- everything feels soft around him. His head is well cushioned and whatever sheets he can feel are smooth against him. His bleary eyes struggle to see anything. A figure hovers above him, another giggle slipping out.

“Raestrao... we can’t sleep in all day..”

The sound of his name leaving her lips sends a shudder throughout his body. It is not the usual disgusted shiver he gets when.. someone else says it, no. This shiver makes the very tips of his fingers and toes tingle. It makes his mind beg him to open his mouth and say ‘call for me again’. It makes him want in way he had never felt before.

All his eyes can catch are what he believes is a soft and faded pink color. Like an odd sunrise he’s never seen in his realm. Off-white walls, a slight mound of soft sheets. He wishes his mouth would open- he had questions but.. he’d never felt so content. So.. loved- was this love? Was it truly?

“Raestrao...”, she calls again, voice sweeter than the finest sugars the demon realm could produce.

He can feel fingers lacing through his own- soft- small, almost. Unintentionally, he brings the hand up to where he believes his mouth is, placing a kiss to the back of it. The sweet scent from earlier returns, more potent now. Something like a warm vanilla..

Another huff of laughter, this one more delighted than the last. “Lazy bones.. get up..”

Her fingers move to his face, softly cupping his cheek, “Wake up now..��

The fingers turn cold- chilling him to his core. The pinks turn to a dark purple that he recognizes- disgust gnaws it’s way into the deepest pit of his belly- he feels like he is plummeting. Everything is falling away.

“Raestrao! Raestrao no!”, her voice is pleading- close to absolutely screaming-

Laughter soon fills his ears again. This laughter is not happy or delighted- it is familiar. Bitter amusement.. some slight caution.

“Dreaming of me, dear? I’m so flattered.”, her voice feels so cruel to him on this morning.

What a lovely dream to have in the middle of his own personal hell. Love? For a demon? He can no longer believe in such fairy tales. He’s trapped here, with this awful woman. Her touches make him feel vile and used. He wishes he could scrape off every single last piece of his skin that her fingertips have ever touched.

“Speechless because you’ve been caught? How cute..”, she says. He doesn’t have to open her eyes to know her eyes hold irritation. He can’t look at her now.

He fears his eyes may betray him if he does. They burn in a familiar way. How many times has he shed tears this past week? His father would have his head if he knew. Or he’d force him to do a repeat of last month. Force him to... desensitize himself.

‘You cannot feel anything for anyone! Not your mother! Not your brothers! Not even me!’, he had told him, and then.. he handed him the whip.

“Raestrao, dear. I’d appreciate it if you gave me some attention. Or must I drag your father in to teach you how to-”

“No. I’m tired.”, he snaps. It’s all he can do to stop himself from breaking down in front of her. He hates that he’s sure she’d like that. All she ever wants is to force feed him or.. have control over him. He felt like some rare possession, and not in a good way.

She looked at him like he was something to be won..

Not like the tired and broken young man she made him into. Stealing him away into the night, no matter how much he said no..

“Oh my..”, she says, amusement now in her tone, “Tough today, aren’t we? Alright. I suppose you’ve earned some rest. However, in return, I do expect that same roughness for our lesson tonight, yes?”

Her vile hand slides across his chest in a way that makes him wish he’d spontaneously combust. She gives one last huff of laughter before seeing herself out. He holds his breath, listening to the door slide shut, and then waiting on her footsteps to fully fade down the hall before inhaling once more.

His breaths become shaky, chest shuddering with each raw intake of breath. He feels the weight of everything crash on him. The hazy memory of the dream crashing down onto him- it caves his chest in. It forces him to roll over and silently scream into his pillow. No one could hear him. No one could watch over him as he absolutely collapsed.

He couldn’t even see the floating orb of his mother- or what was left of her. She had been locked away for good now.

His brothers- he had to push them away for their safety.

There was no one to talk to- there was no mystery love.. nothing-

“O-oh, hi. Uh- I’m ___. I’m ___’s best friend, I’ve heard good things about you.”

Her voice oddly strikes him as familiar, but he banishes the thought immediately. “Nice to meet you.”, he says, plainly with not even an ounce of interest. He’d come to regret it later.

It isn’t his fault though. No one ever really knows who the love of their life is as soon as they meet them. Life would be no fun if that were the case..

*****

@pinkmousey ilysm im sorry asdfgh

#seduce me #james x you #james incubus x reader #James Incubus #james seduce me #seduceme2 #seduce me the otome #seducemetheotome #sm james #Raestrao #raestrao x reader #hiii #ari writes #angst tag

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dreamiesdotcom · 4 years ago

Text

carpe diem | n.jm

summary: You both are the only people in the world, and it is be true; maybe it is. Maybe it isn't — maybe you don't need it to be. It feels real, so it is real, and even if you are lying to yourself as you say it, nobody has to know. Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Make the most out of the present moment. Trust the angel to say to you the filthiest of lies he's held on his tongue. Fall in love with Na Jaemin.

word count: 2689

a/n: yo :') me has been inactive but this has been requested based on this and I always thought that this blurb is too vague to understand, so here I thought 'why not?' because, you know, yOu gOtTa sEiZe tHe oPpuRtunIty (to procrastinate) (really tho) (i wrote this in one sitting but only bc i procrastinated it for a day and five hours)

Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Make the most out of the present moment. Sit inside your local library as soon as it opens, don't leave your favorite cafe until it closes at noon. Read aloud poetry, write excerpts on tissues, leave it for another person to see. Fold paper stars. Hang neon moons. Run barefooted on forests or just around your room, stargaze or just look up the sky. Wear your heart on your sleeve. Have your heart broken. Be completely in love with your best friend.

To be at the brink of sleep is the saddest and happiest feeling you can feel when it's late-night; to know that you're finally going to be able to rest, to remember why it is that you struggle to do so anyway. The clock glares 3:34 a.m and it's the time where your demons ring the loudest, sharp murmurs drowned by muffled sobs. Your phone jolts you awake when it vibrates.

From: Jaem ^^

You up?

It should annoy you, really, but it doesn't. By the time you're done typing, you're already reaching out for your jacket and your purse.

To: Jaem ^^

I don't quite seem to know... am I?

It's a numb feeling that you get when you meet him outside. Jaemin looks wonderful even in his hoodie, his hair a mess he didn't bother fixing. He's beautiful, and it's tragic because you just want him to leave. That's all you can think of when he smiles and cups your cheeks, "I can't sleep. Stay up with me?"

When he stares at you like that, he sees the answers he wants but he remains trying to look unassuming — an image of pure, honest, and genuine innocence; a lie he often makes. You close your eyes to hide, soaking up the lovely feeling of being able to breathe; Are you underwater? Are you jumping along with blue skies? Are you in Neverland? You aren't really sure— you couldn't care less that you're uncertain which and where to compare this feeling to. His gaze softens, "You are so, so pretty. Can I kiss you?"

He traces his thumbs against your cheeks, and it urges you to look and see but you're so afraid of what you'd find behind his mask. It doesn't matter anyway, not when right now, it's only Jaemin and you existing. All you could think of is that if you try hard enough, if you imagine real hard enough, it will be true. That you could live in that thought — you both are the only people in the world, and it will be true.

Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't — maybe you don't need it to be. It feels real, so it is real, and even if you are lying to yourself as you say it, nobody has to know. Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Make the most out of the present moment. Trust the angel to say to you the filthiest of lies he's held on his tongue.

"Of course," you would have almost begged had he not asked. "Of course you can."

When you can’t let yourself fall but you do anyway, when you can't admit to wanting someone fully, when you're three steps away from safety so you build walls to guard you — when you aren't brave enough to dream, when you pretend not to yearn, when you end up wanting less, what you do is lie. You lie. You lie although wanting less hurts, and wanting less is unstable, and wanting less just makes you want to want more.

You lie.

"I have never been," he gasps and then smiles as he yet again presses a warming kiss against your lips, "so desperately in love."

You lie when you don't dare want — at least, that's what Jaemin does. It's okay, though; it is, because you will always allow him. Because you will always let him. Because you can never deny him. Because you will always want what he wants, too. You ignore the bile coating your mouth and head home with cold fingers.

###

Is love even ever sane? When you think about it, nothing really is. Rewrite that: is love even ever safe?

Jaemin has gravity, and all it does is keep you from running. You try to walk away to save yourself but you can't; you try to show him how cold your heart can get but the ice melts when his fingers run down your spine. His eyes glint in the dark. Unfold for me, it seemed to say, the taste is bitter but chase it. Chase it anyway. And you do. You chase it.

Perhaps it's not love. Perhaps it's just you. Whatever the case, all of it boils down to one conclusion: you're in danger.

"Jaemin?" You call, the both of you lost somewhere in the middle of highs and lows of sharing a deep, passionate, and confusing kiss. You smile sweetly and cup his cheeks when he responds with a smile just as saccharine, and you whisper, "I hope you think of me."

He makes a confused but endeared sound, and you laugh a little.

"I hope you think of me all the time and it fucks you up."

Somehow that makes him want to kiss you more, and who are you to deny him and how are you going to do that when he's on it now and it's all you ever wanted? Chase it. Chase it. Chase his lips when it leaves yours because you are his hostage but he is trapped. Chase his lips because this might be the last time and all you want is to be his ghost, to be the name he calls for even when he's with someone else, to be the only one he feels even when others touch him. Chase his lips until he puts pressure on your waist so that he could go back to the shore, breathe a fresh set of air.

Jaemin runs a hand through his hair, catching his lips between his teeth as he prepares himself for sincerity; it seemed like a lie, but it doesn't go away long enough that you know it's true when he nods — "You fuck me up all the time."

###

"It's two a.m and I'm on my fourth coffee because, you know, Carpe Diem!"

You grimace, "Stop using Carpe Diem to excuse your stupidity."

Jaemin doesn't laugh, but he flashes that half-smile he knows drives you wild. The cafe is quiet as it holds no one but the two of you, the barista and the student at the counter — the sound of coffee brewing fills the void of your silence, but it's quickly muffled out by Jaemin's sudden chuckle.

"Might mess around and kiss you." He rests his chin on both his palms, caught in a reverie and actually thinking about it. He sighs dreamily, "The ultimate Carpe Diem."

"Dumbass." He laughs more at your bemused tone, but you don't. It's not funny. "What, you think I'm easy? What am I to you, 'min?"

It's an unnecessary outburst. You could let him have you just like always and it will be done, it will be over, you can forget it. You could let him kiss you just like how you want it and you could move on with the moment but for heaven's sake, you don't want to. It is an unnecessary outburst, but God, this unnecessary is so needed at the moment.

"Tell me." Your breath hitches in your throat as you whisper, "I want to hear what I know directly from your lips. Tell me."

Tell me you don't love me. Tell me that you're just lonely. Tell me that I am nothing but an anchor to hold onto when it's midnight and you're way too cold to be warm. Tell me all the cruel things you refuse to say because maybe what I need so badly is to see you be the liar I know you are.

"There are things that we don't need to say out loud."

A shiver runs up your spine at his smile, and you look away. Genuine is not what you need, but at the same time what you need is the truth — for him to be cruel — so that you could run, so that you could have a reason to run, so that you could convince yourself that you have a reason to run. You have been too willing to bend to his needs, to lose sleep, to lose yourself; what you need is to have a reason to try not to love him, which is to say that you do.

"And sometimes, those things are all that we need to hear so we stop being confused." You return his fond gaze, fingers moving to caress his cheeks, "I'm done trying to guess if you want me because you love me or you're just with me because I'm convenient."

Sometimes you wonder why it is that he has to lie; why does he need to tell you things he doesn't feel? But oh, on some days, you feel like he's not lying anymore. Those days hurt the most. Everything hurts with Jaemin. Everything is painful and beautiful with him.

You shut your eyes, fists clenched — "I'm going home."

At the end of it all, you know that one of you is bound to be either the bomb, or the casualty.

###

"Open the door or you'll have to buy a new one tomorrow," is the threat that makes you let your best friend in even with a heavy heart. To be fair, the door is a beautiful one. You kind of think it's not worth getting the hardest question at the moment, though, when Donghyuck finishes his glass of water and suddenly asks; "Love letters can only keep your heart beating so long, what is so difficult to understand with that?"

He has a way of being blunt, and mostly it's not the best attribute he holds. Donghyuck has been careful with you in all aspects except the thing about Jaemin; he hates him with all he is, and that is odd because your best friend used to love the other. They had dance class together and were even in a team together until you two started hanging out and Donghyuck left; to keep you away, he said. He's no good for you, he said. It was everything but fair but you understand. Dance is one of Donghyuck's many dreams and if he quits it for this reason, you think it's pretty valid. Unnecessarily overdramatic, but still valid.

"I said, what is so difficult to unders—"

"None!" you hiss. "Heaven, Hyuck, none at all! Do you think I'm dumb? Of course, I know that!"

"Then why do you keep holding on?"

Why.. Would it disappoint you less if I tell you that at this point, I don't even know anymore? Because I do know, but the reason is probably better unsaid.

"It's all I have," you whisper, feeling smaller and smaller as time passes. You bite your lips to stop your sobs, "It's all he could give."

"All he wants is to break your heart."

"Then he got what he want," You wipe away your tears. Donghyuck laughs coldly; it's the last thing you need and it runs you over like a car on full-speed, washing over you like cold water. The sad song thrums in your veins. "He gets what he wants every second of the day."

He doesn't even need to ask, but I'll give him the entire world. If I can not give him the entire world, I would give up my whole being. Why would you think that I wouldn't let him break my heart every breath I take?

"He tells you he loves you because he can't accept those words as things he wants to say to Jeno — he does to you everything because he can't admit to himself that it's all he wants to have with Jeno." His brows furrow, "He's in love with Jeno and he can't accept that. He's with you because everything would be easier if he was in love with you instead, but he's not, and he's lyin— why can't you see that?"

But you can see it, it's about as clear as day. It shines above you like the sun and it touches you like ice against your skin, it's a book laid down without all the other riddles. You don't know why you stay — maybe it's his laughs, or his kisses, or his company, or your feelings. Maybe it's everything all at once.

"People see what they want to see," your voice breaks alongside your heart. "Perhaps, I am blind with him, Lee Donghyuck."

###

There's a place where reality is a bit altered and it's everywhere with him.

Maybe it was his bright eyes. Maybe it was his voice. Maybe it's the way he was your home someway; with him it's lightweight, with him it's all happy and too perfect for the both of you. Maybe it's his lies and the way they tangle almost seamlessly, perfect enough that it seems real.

There was a time back then, a faraway memory. The first time you two slept side-by-side, he laid beside the window, and the moon casted pristine shadows on his face. His hair was blonde then, and you both loved and hated the way it fanned like a halo as he laid against the silk-covered pillow. He was sleepy, and you do not know if the moment was meant for you, but it was also the first time he kissed you, and he asked you if you wanted him to love you more.

Yes, you said, testing the waters. Yes, you said, because it is what you want.

He laughed then and he opened his eyes, holding galaxies and untold stories; feelings that are yet to be put into words. "But I do know that I love you too much now, and it would ruin me to love you any more. It would break my heart if it beat for you faster. Do you want that?"

At that point you knew that it wasn't you he's seeing in his head, but yes, you still said, trying to know more. Yes, you still said, because maybe if you pretended hard enough, it will be true. It will be for you.

Jaemin's skin was akin gold, his lips reminding you suspiciously of cherries. "Good," he whispered with his voice something that should be God forbidden, addicting and sticking to you like remnants of honey, "I want that too."

That was place number one; that specific moment in his bedroom that changed your world for the best or the worst. This is place number two, standing somewhere unfamiliar, with him the dullest star you've ever seen. Only three months have passed when you ghosted him and you think he could qualify as a stranger, but he's all too familiar even when he's so... so different. Jaemin's eyes are tired, his skin pale. His smile remains radiant and smug, as blue as his dyed hair, worn in that kind of lazy way he always does.

He laughs, "Missed me?"

You shake your head, "No."

And with that came a step, and with that step you let the truth burn your throat in a manner so similarly strong and unpleasant as your first drink. You step on your feelings, the real ones, and you keep your gaze indifferent. The words echoed in your head as if to taunt you to say them, and you thank the moon that before you could, he crashes his lips with yours.

Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Make the most out of the present time. Run around in circles, pick your poison, pin wildflowers to your hair. Open a book and hide behind it. Adore a hopeless flame — know that you are running out of forever, be a ticking time bomb. Let this be good, maybe not great nor sweet, but let it be good and temporary. Know that someday you'll need something more than the blurred lines between lies and reality, feelings, or just the need for company. Fall in love with Na Jaemin.

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minsugapie · 5 years ago

Text

Mary’s Song: part 20a (2099 words) - I’ll shoot

• • • • • •

Jeon Jungkook wasn’t just your anime-loving, manga-drawing, hair-pulling, ex-neighbour. You hadn’t even spoken to him since he had moved away. But the world worked in funny ways because...

He was probably the reason you were still alive.

• • • • • •

“And our daddies used to joke about the two of us

Growing up and fallin' in love

And our mamas smiled, and rolled their eyes

And said, "Oh, my, my, my””

• • • • • •

previous // current \\ next

masterlist

• • • • • •

Tags :

@minhyuksfatgf @igotarmyofarohas @dixonsbugaboo @thealexalcala @salty-for-suga @worshiphoseok @okaysoplshelpme @jeonlovers @acupfullofsuga @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @hannahdinse8 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dammit-jjk @dreamcatcherjiah @xxxanimangxxx @wrmnssoul @ephyra1230 @imynnow @prdshobi

• • • • • •

i’m not sure when part 2 - unchained will start because i have a bunch of homework this week but i’ll try my best to get something out...

ALSO PLZ READ - WARNING - bc there is some violence in this. i did try to keep out as much graphic details that i could but it’s essentially what comes of some domestic abuse...so yeah, beware please!!

• • • • • •

Your dream last night made you realize that life might be too good to be true. You relived your day yesterday with Jungkook, convincing yourself that it could be like that every day. Jungkook was amazing, and you only wanted to let yourself trust him fully. It was hard. You knew that he only wanted to help, but you were still skeptical because of Nic.

Bun was worth it, you convinced yourself.

However in real life, you also convinced yourself that what you were going to do today would not be scary because you were protecting all the people that you’d grown to love. You didn’t regret running away from Nic, not in the slightest, but you did regret dragging all these amazing people into it. You should have just gone to your father in the first place.

When you opened your eyes to the sunlight streaming in through the window, you had tears in your eyes. You weren’t sure if they were happy tears or sad tears. Over the past week that Jungkook had officially been sleeping with you, you never got tired or seeing his face when you woke up. His face was peaceful as he slept. You especially liked the way his hair was wild like he’d been through a tornado.

Taking the opportunity, because it might have been your last, you brought your hand up to his face, palm lightly resting on his cheek. Your thumb lightly traced over his bottom lip as you touched his little mole. A small smile graced your lips when you saw his eyelids start to flutter, his hand coming over yours. You always thought that his eyes were always the most beautiful when the sun’s rays hit them. The scar on his cheek became prominent and you realized that he’d never told you how he got it, and that you had never asked. He blinked slowly, eyes still focusing, before he squinted, trying to get away from the bright rays.

He was finally able to open his eyes when he brought the hand that was on yours to cover the light. It only took him a second to realize the you were crying, if that’s what you wanted to call it.

He frowned, but you shook your head before he could say anything more. You hadn’t even meant for it to happen, but before you knew it, your lips were on his. You lingered for a few seconds, not knowing if you wanted to continue or pull away.

In the end, you decided to pull away, looking at his face for any kind of reaction. You weren’t sure why you had kissed him—did you like him or was it simply because there was a chance you’d never see him again after today?

“What was that for?” He asked, hand falling to your cheek.

You swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. However, it was his turn to stop you from answering. “You know what, it doesn’t matter…jus—just a little but more,” he whispered, kissing you again. He was so warm, and you felt yourself melt into him to be closer to it. You remembered your old feelings for him, and wondered how you would have felt if you were fifteen again. This wasn’t the first time you and Jungkook had kissed, but you knew that he didn’t remember it.

He was drunk and kissed you the night before he left for the city. You remembered it clearly because you’d wanted it to happen for years, and you were mad about it for a long time. But you hadn’t thought about it for years, until right now.

You let Jungkook’s arms wrap around you and bring you closer to him. Maybe both of you had gotten better at kissing over the years, but you definitely enjoyed this kiss more. He pushed you back into the pillows, a knee slipping between your legs.

When he kissed you, he was being gentle and playfully sucked your lips. Really, you couldn’t think of a better way to start the day, having long forgotten your tears.

But then there was a knock on the door, followed by Taehyung’s voice, “Jungkook, don’t forget your haircut in an hour…” It was a bummer, as it interrupted the moment, but it brought you back to reality.

Jungkook pulled back from you, turning his head to the side to yell back at Taehyung, “Ok, thanks…”

“Is Y/N awake?” Tae continued, clearly not wanting to leave them alone.

You cleared your throat and answered, “I am now.”

“Ok, babe, you’ll be okay on your own later? Chim and I are going to the studio because he’s convinced me to make a YouTube video with him!”

“Yep, I’ll be fine,” you easily lied, knowing full well that you weren’t going to be leaving after the three of them left.

“Perfect, you two! Coffee is in the pot!” The sound of Taehyung’s feet retreating made Jungkook look at you again.

He had a funny look on his face as he looked down at you and smiled. “We’ll talk later. I should get ready,” he whispered, hands still tight around your waist.

You nodded and looked at him, waiting for him to get off of you. He took a deep breath and finally pushed himself off, immediately walking to the door and leaving the room. Turning your head into the pillow beside you, you screamed.

What just happened?

• • • • • •

Jungkook got back to the apartment, ready to talk about what happened this morning, but when he unlocked the door, he felt like something was off. Yeontan was gone because Jimin and Tae took him, but your shoes were gone from the door.

Looking at the closet, he also saw that your jacket was gone. Jungkook walked to his room to see if you was there, but you weren’t there either.

Taking out his phone, he decided to call you. Maybe after yesterday, you’d decided that you could get out and go for a walk? He heard the ringing of your phone from the kitchen, so he went out again to check. And there it was, your phone on the kitchen table.

It was then that it clicked that all your things were gone from the bedroom. Running back, he checked the dresser that he had given you, and he was right—everything was gone.

He knew he needed to stay calm, so he sat on the bed and decided to text the group. His hands were shaking as he tried to coherently form his message.

does anyone know where honey is? all her things are gone.

Jungkook wasn’t prepared for Jin to be the one to answer. He told Jungkook that she sent him, Cherry and Jade an address and said that if she was ever missing, that she would be there.

tell me the address. and call the police because i’m going there right now.

Yoongi told him not to be hasty and that he couldn’t go alone, but Jungkook wasn’t going to listen. He had a gut feeling that you had gone back to Nic. It had to be why you were crying this morning—he remembered how distracted he’d gotten by you.

God, after this morning, he thought everything was going to be so different. He hadn’t realized how much he liked you until you came back into his life. Everything from your childhood together came back to him when you first called.

He absolutely had never allowed himself to fall in love with anyone because he was still hung up, and probably, waiting for you to come back at claim what was yours.

But now, as he ran down the street, trying to find a cab, he couldn’t believe that you’d left him to go back to Nic.

• • • • • •

The address turned out to be at a plain apartment building. He checked out the number again to make sure he was at the right place before dashing up the stairs to the correct room. Instead of knocking, because that would be stupid, he decided to check to see if the door was unlocked.

It was.

So, as quietly as possible he slipped inside, taking caution to tiptoe and keep his eyes and ears peeled. He heard a voice coming from a room down the hall, and he paused, trying to hear what was being said.

“You were late coming here today, Y/N. I would have let it slide, but I know what you got up to yesterday,” the voice was menacing, dripping with a sort of controlling possession.

A reply simply came in quiet, moan-like sounds from the person he was talking to.

“But!” The man’s voice continued, sounding slightly more optimistic, “after tonight, I’ll forget about everything, and we can go back to being the Nic and Y/N that everyone know and love. We were always so good together…”

Jungkook couldn’t stand it anymore. He stepped into the room to see what was going on. The only thing that he was able to focus on was you on the bed, there was a gash on your head and you were looking at Nic with extremely hooded eyes. Basically, you looked drugged and beaten up.

And he was not okay it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Jungkook finally spoke, making Nic turn around. You barely moved.

When Jungkook finally got a good look at Nic, he was surprised to see him smile. “Ah, you look exactly like the guy from the internet.”

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” Jungkook challenged, fists clenching with every word. Just seeing Nic’s face was making him mad. Of course, he was trying to buy some time for the policemen to get there, but he felt himself slowly getting more mad by the second. Your figure was still on his mind. You were helpless right now, and it was all because he had gone to get a haircut.

“It doesn’t really matter, now does it? My girlfriend is back with me, and sh—”

Jungkook couldn’t handle it any longer. He didn’t even realize it, but his first made contact with Nic’s face before the sick bastard could even finish his sentence. But Jungkook wasn’t stupid; he knew that Nic could take a punch. Hell, he was trained for it.

However, what Jungkook didn’t expect was for Nic to pull out a gun when Jungkook tried to hit him a second time.

The gun was surprisingly pointed at you instead of Jungkook. His breath hitched when Nic spoke again, “You touch me again, and I’ll shoot.”

When Jungkook simply stood there, figuring out how he could grab the gun, he realized he should have paid more attention to anything that could have showed him how to protect himself and others.

Nic continued talking, “But I think you really do need to tell me, how was it that you were able to draw a character that looked exactly like Y/N?”

If he would have just let Jungkook speak earlier, it would have been fine.

But neither of the two were able to say any more because the policemen finally showed up. They each pointed their own guns at Nic, and he faltered a little. It was enough for Jungkook to leap forward and grab the barrel of the gun. No after what happened, Nic wouldn’t be able to shoot then.

What happened next with Nic was a blur to Jungkook because he just went to you. You were completely unconscious at this point, and now that he was closer to you, he saw more of what Nic did. The gash on your forehead bled down into your eye and down your temple. There was a cut on your lip, maybe from getting hit. Bruises were present on your neck and arms (and probably other places he wouldn’t be able to see). Lastly, your clothes—he didn’t even want to think about why there were some rips.

He collapsed onto the bed beside you and tried his hardest to hold his tears back. “Honey, please wake up,” he sobbed, tears filling his eyes. He literally didn’t want to touch. You already seemed so vulnerable in this situation, and he wouldn’t do anything to injure you even more.

The only thing he wanted to do when he saw the EMT come in and take you was to call Yoongi and cry to him, but just didn’t have the time because he had to tell his whole side of the story. And there was no way he wasn’t staying by your side as they took you to the hospital.

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lemonietrinket · 5 years ago

Text

Breakfast in Bed ||| Wonpil x Reader

Summary: Making breakfast in bed for your bf on his birthday Genre: Fluff, you know the drill Warning(s): jam None Word Count: 1558 Theme Song: Red - The Rose AN: Happy Birthday Pillie! A request/idea from @idontknowapil and now a birthday present for the brightest angel that has ever existed. Married AU bc why not

~~~

You rubbed your eyes as you placed the knife safely in a mug by the sink, taking in the sight of your handiwork.

The toast heart was a little bit lopsided you had to admit, but you’d managed to get the jam to the correct thickness and the sides decorated to perfection. Still, your work wasn’t over.

Feeling the pride giving you a boost of energy boost against the drain of having gotten up so early, you placed the mango and raspberry squash on the tray before lifting it carefully.

Taking the stairs slowly, you eventually reached the top without a single drop spilt much to your satisfaction. Easing your shared bedroom’s door open with your foot, you reentered the safe haven that had taken you so much effort to drag yourself from. A smile arose to your features as soon as you spotted the precious man that all your hard work was done for. He was still fast asleep, one arm stretched up onto the pillow with the other having remained where it had been as he cradled you during the night.

He was so adorable that it made your heart flutter, his naturally wavier hair uncaged by the straighteners he insisting on using and left free to curl over his forehead. His features seemed to be lightly furrowed, as if his dream required him to think, and it pouted his lips so sweetly.

It took a lot of effort not to just abandon everything you’d made to join him beneath the covers once again. Still, you knew his face would be a piece of art when he woke up to see the breakfast you had prepared for him, so you stuck with the plan.

Tiptoeing over to the bed, you placed the tray where you had sprawled so the chances of him knocking it were slim, before returning to his side. Leaning over so you could get a better view of the beauty before you, you drew your fingers gently over his temple. Shifting a lock of hair from his skin, you pressed a kiss softly there. He was frankly irresistible, and you found yourself ducking in to plant another on his exposed cheek—the other smushed into the pillow.

He huffed cutely in his sleep which led you to giggle; he was coming away from the world of dreams but he wasn’t quite out yet. Flicking a glance to the toast that was inevitably enjoyed much more warm, you realised it would take some more drastic measures to pull him from his slumber in time for breakfast.

Pulling the duvet the slightest bit away from his chin you nestled his jaw in the palm of your hand, tracing your thumb across the apple of his cheek.

“Wonpil, sweetheart,” you sang tenderly, “time for breakfast.”

After receiving a scrunch of his nose as proof that your tactic was working, you let yourself chuckle at how cute he was. Giving into the temptation, you placed another kiss this time upon his nose. This elicited a hum and before you knew it, your husband—too adorable to be true—was dozily opening his eyes.

“Good morning,” you greeted, his hand leaving the pillow and rubbing his cheeks and eyes into a further state of awake.

“Morning,” he reciprocated with a voice gravelly from sleep, as he used most of the energy he had to lift himself ever so slightly, just so he could kiss your nose in return. It was weak, but you knew it was a precursor of what was to come.

Making more of a gap so he could begin to breathe some cool air and awake further, you smiled at him sunnily. “Happy birthday sweetheart.”

That seemed to pry him open a bit more. “Oh!”

He began to shift himself up in bed, ready to get out after seeing the joy in your eyes and quickly rationalising you had a plan. He was confused, then, when you pressed your hand to his chest and encouraged him to merely lay back against the headboard.

“Get yourself comfortable,” you said with a wink, as you levied the tray across into both your hands, “because you have a special treat.”

To say his eyes widened would be an understatement. You were convinced that they had wettened at the image of the breakfast you’d made and brought him. It wasn’t the first time either of you’d had breakfast brought to them in bed, but the level of handiwork this time seemed extra special—even if it was simpler than a few of the other occasions.

“I felt bad that you’d lost out on some toast so I got you some extra bits,” you pointed to the ‘side dishes’, a portion of salad, some toast soldiers coupled with a soft boiled egg.

He looked on the food you’d gotten him with what could only be described as a happy pout. “Thank you so much, this is just so perfect... I love you so much!”

You felt your heart swell, encouraging him to tuck in. “Before it gets cold!”

While he tucked into the heart shaped toast you slipped back into the warmth of the bed beside him, resting your head on his shoulder as you watched him enjoy the mix ‘n’ match breakfast you’d presented to him.

“It tastes so good,” he exclaimed through a slightly-full mouth, unable to hold in his compliments any longer.

“It’s just the usual jam on toast,” you humbly admitted. Not that he would have that.

He shook his head, dusting his fingers off on a napkin you’d found unused from your housewarming party. “No this definitely tastes even better than normal toast.” He let his hand no free of crumbs stroke your hair as he gazed at you, fully awake and bubbly like his normal self. “It’s the taste of love, that’s what it is.”

“Ew, corny,” you scoffed, turning your head away from him to avoid his stare catching the blush that had bloomed upon your cheeks.

He laughed, dusting off his heart toast and swiftly moving onto his egg.

“This is going to taste more than amazing too,” he announced, ducking down to kiss your head, while you let your eyes rest.

When he got a subdued response—a smile, yes, but with closed eyes—he realised you could easily fall back asleep, and that would not do.

Savouring the first taste of the egg, he brought a soldier of toast and dipped it into the vibrant, runny yoke.

“Y/N, honey, stay with me,” he giggled, running his hand down to your shoulder and rubbing lovingly, “here.”

You opened your eyes to see the tantalising sliver of toast neatly coated with yolk being held towards you. Feeling your stomach rumble out of negligence on your behalf to your own hunger you very nearly didn’t stop yourself from accepting his offer. “Pillie, it’s your breakfast!”

“Yeah, which means I choose where it goes,” he countered smoothly, gasping in faux indignance, “am I not allowed to feed my own wife?”

You pouted, before letting him feed you. He did so with a grin so radiant you were beginning to reckon you were going to need sunglasses to appreciate him in all his glory. The taste awoke your senses and you savoured the bite, letting the texture seep in and elicit a satisfied groan from you.

“You know what you’re right, this stuff does taste much better,” you backtracked, frowning quizzically at your work.

“Because... love infusion,” he declared in English, fumbling only a bit over the phonetics.

You felt yourself burst into laughter. He was too good for your heart. “I guess so, yeah.”

He continued to feed you slips of toast, and then spoonfuls of the egg itself, and eventually you learnt that there was no point in insisting it was all for him.

Once it was all finished, his drink sipped and not a single sprig of salad remaining, Wonpil reclined back with a sated sigh.

“Best meal ever,” he stated, “Ramsay’s got nothing on you.”

Rolling your eyes with a smile you moved the tray out of the way for him and onto your bedside table, changing the subject as you did so. “So, do you want to see your present?”

His motions to begin retreating beneath the duvets again immediately halted. “This wasn’t my present?”

“One of them yes,” you explained, surprised that he thought you wouldn’t have gotten him anything substantial, “but the proper one is downstairs!”

He reasoned with the suggestion for a moment, before a mischievous glint settled in his eye. “I think I’ll take my second one first.”

You weren’t given long to be confused, your lips parting to chide him for sinking under the blankets once again, but the chance to speak being taken away as he proceeded to snake his hands around your waist. Having propped yourself up on one elbow when he’d begun to move you slipped to the mattress with a gentle thud as he brought you flush to him.

Creating a cocoon for the two of you, you were finally enveloped in warmth as he grinned victoriously, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“Let’s just stay here for a little bit, yeah?” he suggested, caressing your back.

And what could you say—you couldn’t say no to that man in a thousand years. Especially not on his birthday.

~~~

AN: my apologies idk korean breakfasts so we ran with some english stuff hell yeah

btw i hate this title its so basic so if it changes in the future dont be surprised

also fun fact about me:

i hate jam with like every inch of my life so

Masterlist

#wonpil #wonpil day6 #wonpil x reader fluff #wonpil fluff #wonpil x reader drabble #day6 #day6 fluff #day6 x reader fluff #day6 drabble #day6 x reader drabble #wonpil drabble #wonpil imagine #day6 imagine #wonpil fluff oneshot #wonpil fluff drabble #day6 fluff oneshot #day6 fluff drabble #happy birthday wonpil!

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amyscascadingtabs · 5 years ago

Text

you’ll keep me intact

read on ao3

They were going to see Hamilton. That’s what she’s most upset about.

They had been planning the date night for two months, weeks before they got a positive pregnancy test, and she’d been so excited. David had given them the tickets after receiving them as a gift when he bumped into Lin-Manuel Miranda on the street, discovering that the two of them looked like twins.

(“It was crazy”, he’d told Amy over the phone. “But anyway, I don’t really follow pop culture, so you can have them if you want.”)

Amy had been stoked - Jake was sure to love this play much more than he’d tolerated the first one they saw together, and they were going to have dinner at a proper nice restaurant while wearing actual fancy clothing. She had been thinking of busting out the red dress she wore at their first real date, and yeah, she may have been longing for the chance to see her husband in a tux again, so sue her.

The play starts in ten minutes and Amy’s in bed.

She should be sitting in a red plush seat holding hands with the love of her life and waiting to see the musical they both know too much of the lyrics to performed live in front of them, and she’s in bed.

She’s furious, and she’s too exhausted to do something about it, because being in your first trimester of pregnancy is everything but energizing. The excitement and gratefulness aside, Amy feels as if someone took one of the worst hangovers she ever had and extended the duration of it to weeks and months, then subtracted the fun alcohol-part and added extra mood-swings. She can’t drink at Shaw’s anymore and lacks energy to do anything else but go home and sleep the moment her shift’s over, she struggles to follow a conversation when she’s busy fighting a wave of nausea, and now she’s cancelling date nights. With the thought of her baby still an abstract concept she struggles to fully wrap her head around, the whole situation is mostly aggravating.

The lighting in the room is not as striking bright as before, creeping closer to sunset but not there, so Amy figures she must have slept for a while. It’s the kind of golden hour out now that she’d adore a romantic walk in, capturing a few cheesy couple selfies with her phone while enjoying the view, and she considers calling for Jake to ask if they can take one before realizing he's the one who decided they weren't going out tonight, not even for a walk or Hamilton. She's too tired, was barely able to keep her eyes open during their drive home, and it's a bad nausea day on top of it.

(“You're going to sleep,” her husband had stated when she insisted one last time that maybe she could do it, even though she'd had to throw up at the mere consideration of different food smells at a restaurant. “You need it. C’mon, I'll let you be the little spoon.”)

There had been no way for her not to fall for his offer, and she drifted asleep minutes after changing into pajamas and curling up in his arms.

She's alone in their bedroom now, but there's a folded neon orange post-it on the pillow next to her. The squiggly handwriting scribbled on it is one she’d recognize anywhere, and she grins as she reads it.

Went to the store to buy ice cream, the note says. Plus more saltines and orangina bc i know you like that best (you’re orangina!). Love youuu.

He’s drawn a collection of uneven hearts after the message. Amy traces one of them with her index finger, waking up slowly to the background noise of Taylor Swift being played from the living room and telling her Jake must be back by noe. She wraps the comforter around herself and sneaks out into the hallway.

He’s watching the Reputation Stadium Tour. It’s the All Too Well-performance, a favorite for them both in the two hour five minute-recording of the show, and she expects him to be so focused on the television it's a surprise when he turns around, eyes lighting up when he sees her.

She's tired and she's bitter about the cancelled date night and she's felt sick for the entire day, but once she sees the content, dreamy smile he meets her with, all of the world’s misfortunes seem less disastrous. All the miracles appear brighter, too - a joyful spark in her heart reminds her they're having a baby together, and every bit of suffering she's going through will be worth it thousandfold less than seven months from now.

“I would ask you if you managed to get some rest,” he comments playfully. “But I checked on you a bunch of times and you were out like a light for all of them. How are you feeling?”

“A bit better. I’m sorry”, she mutters. He wrinkles his forehead at her apology, so she explains it further. “For being boring. This isn't exactly the exciting date night we’d planned from the start, and it’s all my fault. ”

“Stop that.” He gestures for her to take the spot next to him on the couch and she does, resting her head on his shoulder for extra closeness and letting his arm snake around her waist. “Ames, you couldn't be boring if you tried.”

“We were going to a fancy restaurant! We were going to Hamilton!”

“Yeah, but we totally made a couple purple-haired theatre kids the happiest people in New York when I sold them the tickets cheap.” Jake shrugs. “All I care about in a date night is getting to spend time with my wife.”

“Your hopelessly boring, moody and nauseous wife?”

“My badass wife”, he corrects her with a kiss to her hairline. “My badass, incredible, gorgeous and awesome wife.”

“She sounds great, whoever she is.”

“Oh, trust me. She is.” There's a smile on his lips so wide she's tempted to kiss it off of him - she does, shamelessly, and he whispers the last words against her lips.

Taylor has moved on to her Blank Space-performance on their television. Amy notes how Jake is moving his feet to the beat of it, miming along to the lyrics. She's seen him watch this movie at least ten to fifteen times and he doesn't seem to have grown tired of it yet. As far as date nights go, Amy supposes they’ve both been through worse - at least there are no exes or depressed bosses to be found in their apartment tonight - but it doesn't stop her from wishing it could have gone differently.

She drapes her right leg over his lap so she's practically straddling him just to get closer, burying her face in his neck and making a mental note to thank him for immediately ceasing to use the aftershave whose scent makes her sick now. He lets her stay close, doesn’t even complain about her blocking part of his view of the tv, and she makes another mental note to really, really thank him whenever her energy returns.

“I really am sorry about tonight, though”, she whispers after a minute, ever so distracted by his fingers tracing feather-light patterns on her neck. “Wasn't what I planned.”

“Title of your sextape.”

“Ha-ha.”

“You love me”, he reminds her, grinning. “Really, Ames, it's okay. I don't mind this.”

“I know, but…” She bites at her lower lip. “I guess it hit me that we won't be able to go on dates like this for much longer.”

“What do you mean?”

“Before we only had to coordinate work schedules. Now we’ll have to find a babysitter, and deal with leaving our baby to someone else, and it’s going to be difficult. I feel bad for ruining what might be one of the few opportunities we have left in a long time.”

Jake frowns, running his free hand through his hair in a fruitless attempt to smooth a few curls out. He just makes it messier, but she doesn’t have the heart to tell him.

“You’re really worried about that?”

“A little, yeah.”

“Do you want logic or reassurance?”

Years of partnership, courtship and now marriage have taught them a few handy tools in dealing with each other's anxieties. This distinction is one of them.

“Logic”, she decides, and he nods. “If you have anything.”

“I do”, he promises, pausing the television at a shot of the concert audience holding lights in the air. They almost resemble a starry night sky, Amy thinks when she looks back at them. “Let's start with time. It's only May and we're having a baby in December. We have oceans of time to go on dates, especially if you start feeling better in the second trimester like all the websites say.”

“We're going to have a lot to prepare and it's going to go by fast. Plus, it's still not a ton of time. What do we do when they’re here?”

“Charles”, says Jake, and she furrows her brows, so he explains. “You think we’ll have a problem finding babysitters? On the list of people who will love our baby the most, Charles’s name is literally right below ours. You know he'll be dying for every chance he can get to spend some time with them.”

“And what if our kid doesn't like Charles?”

“All kids love Charles, I doubt ours will be an exception.”

“Fine”, she relents. “Babysitting is settled. Still, we’ll be tired, and hesitant to leave them, and it’ll take work and I just...” Amy can feel tears burning behind her eyelids - they’re always too close now, all of her emotions intensified. “I didn’t want to cancel this. I wanted to give you something nice as a reward for putting up with me right now, and this is what you get. Taylor Swift, hanging out on the couch, and your emotional mess of a wife.”

He doesn’t say a word at first. She wonders briefly if if the reason he’s pursing his lips and watching her with an expression of either pain or pity is that he thinks she’s right, that she is letting him down. When he keeps lightly massaging her neck and leans in for a chaste but sweet kiss on her lips instead of complaining, it confuses her.

“Ames, I meant it when I said it was okay. I don’t care about the date nights, I care about you.”

“Just admit you’re disappointed.”

“A bit”, he admits with a weak smile. “But not for the reasons you think. It sucks that you’re not feeling well, and it sucks that I can’t do much about it, and it sucks that you’re upset about this. But I still think it’s a perfect date night.”

“In what world would it ever be perfect?”

“You’re here.” Another chaste kiss to her lips. “You’re here, we’re watching Taylor Swift, and I have a full liter of our favorite Italian gelato in the fridge. That’s as close to perfect as it gets if you ask me.”

“Oh my god, you bought the good ice cream?”

“Yeah?”

“I seriously love you.”

“Ah.” She recognizes the characteristic dorky grin from years ago as well as yesterday, but it makes her heart skip a beat all the same. “And here I’ve been all these years, thinking your love for me was fake.”

She punches him in the shoulder for that.

“You know”, Jake says when he hands her a generous bowl of vanilla and caramel ice cream, “We can have this kind of tv and ice cream-date nights when we have a baby, too.”

“We’ll be falling asleep on the couch”, she corrects him. “And staring at a baby monitor like crazy people unless they’re sleeping on us.”

“Well, Amy Santiago”, Jake grins, “I can’t wait to fall asleep on the couch with you.”

It's not the night she imagined, but when they go to bed and he once again lets her curl up into a ball while he holds her, playing with her hair until she falls asleep, she couldn't be more okay with it.

(Two weeks later, Jake reveals he managed to buy new Hamilton tickets. Five weeks later, Amy gets both her nice restaurant-date and her Hamilton experience, as well as a chance to show off an incipient baby bump in the sleek red dress.)

#i don't like this that much and was just hesitant about posting it at all hhhhh but it's here and it's fluffy #hope it can make someone's evening better #b99 fic #my writing #peraltiago fic

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hellimagines · 6 years ago

Text

18 Months (Part Three) -- Michael Langdon

Masterlist

Summary: After Michael passes the Seven Wonders, you return to Miss. Robichaux’s, and your friendship with one another grows over the phone.

Warnings: Hella flirting

Pairing: Michael Langdon x fem!reader

Word Count: 5,600+

A/N: I’ma be honest with you guys; I don’t remember much of Coven, and I haven’t had any time to rewatch it, so if I’ve gotten anything wrong, please let me know and I’ll gladly fix it! Also, I wish I could insert emojis in GD bc of texts. Instead, I had to use cringey aesterics. Circa 2012 culture guys. Also 2.0, I tried to write Michael’s character as well as I could, but I’m sorry if he seems a little ooc.

18 Months Masterlist

You stood in the Hawthorne library, staring up at the walls of books in fascination. You were sure that there were plenty of books similar to the ones at Miss. Robichaux’s, but you also knew there had to be plenty of different ones; ones you’d never even heard of. Your fingers itched to pull them from their shelves and start flipping through them, to see if there was any new magic or knowledge you could discover- but, you knew better. These books weren’t yours, and the warlocks didn’t see you as a guest, so you had no right to start taking things from their rightful places. The door of the library hesitantly creaked up, and you paused your ogling to see who had come in.

“Michael?” you hummed, fully turning to face him once the blond had entered the room. You had briefly seen Michael when your coven had gotten to the school earlier that morning before he was being rushed off for some last-minute preparations for his test tomorrow.

“Hello,” he greeted, shutting the door and walking over to you. “I didn’t have the opportunity to say hello to you earlier, so I thought I’d do it now.”

“How’d you know I’d be here?” you grinned, looking back up at the books once he had come to a stop at your side.

“The same way you knew I’d be at the fire pit.”

“A guess.” The two of you spoke at the same time. You nodded in understanding and allowed the silence of the room to close off the conversation. You both just stood there for a while, staring up at that one particular wall of books. There wasn’t anything obviously special about it, simply the bindings of roughly a hundred books looking down at you, in all sizes and colors. The books didn’t even seem to be organized in any certain way either- the last names of the authors weren’t alphabetical, and neither were the titles. Hell, it wasn’t even color coded. After a while, you started trying to figure out if there was some sort of pattern you weren’t seeing.

“You’re staring at the books like they killed your grandmother,” Michael spoke after a while. You looked up at him and shook your head with a frown.

“They’re not organized…” you said softly, glaring up at the books once more. Michael snorted in disbelief, turning his body slightly so he could cross his arms at you.

“You’re mad at the books because they’re not organized?” he questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh, yeah,” you scoffed, crossing your own arms and staring up at him. “How do you boys even find anything?”

“This little, precious thing called magic,” Michael mocked, waving his hand in the air. In an instant, he held a large, black, hardcover book in his hands.

“House of Leaves?” you questioned, instantly recognizing the cover. “Oh, and your smartass comment? Real cute, Langdon.”

Michael snickered and flipped the book over to show off the cover and reveal the title. “Have you read it before?”

“Yeah, it’s interesting. Took a while because I really wanted to understand the story and the house, but it was good. Why’d you choose it?” you asked, reaching out and grabbing it from his hands.

“I used to read it as a child. It… reminded me of home, you could say,” he smirked. You nodded and left the conversation at that. “So, if you guys need a book, you just wave your hand?”

“Yeah. Are you telling me you don’t?”

“No, we use our hands. You can’t rely on magic for everything, that’s what my mother says. Besides, if you get too used to it, you’ll slip up in public. Probably get burned alive,” you shrugged, watching as Michael rolled his eyes.

“Now, isn’t that a lovely thought,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “But this isn’t public, now is it? We are underground, in a library, with just the two of us. If yo-”

“The way you talk makes me think you’re trying to hook up.” Your interruption stopped Michael abruptly, causing him to nearly choke on his words. He stared at you, mouth slightly agape while trying to come up with a response. You grinned wickedly at your ability to shut Michael Langdon up, waiting until he took a ragged breath.

“Having sex in a dusty library isn’t on my bucket list, darling,” Michael drawled, taking a dangerous step forward.

“That’s a shame,” you shrugged, slamming the book you were holding into his chest. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for the Seven Wonders?” you asked, veering the conversation completely off topic, as you walked over to the nearby couch.

“I’ve been getting ready for two weeks. I feel as though I’m fairly prepared,” Michael replied walking over to you. “Shouldn’t you be with your witches?”

“No, they’re all asleep. I wanted to find a book to read to help me sleep, but I didn’t expect to be greeted by an unorganized library,” you sighed, pulling your knees to your chest and tucking yourself into the corner of the couch.

“Are you ever going to drop that?”

“No. Not until you lot organize this place.”

“Why don’t you organize it for us?”

“Because I’m not your fucking maid, Michael,” you snapped, causing Michael to laugh at your anger. Michael sat himself on the other end of the couch, stretching his legs out and draping his arm over the back.

He tossed the book you had shoved at him back to you, and you caught it with a raised eyebrow. “Your reading material for tonight. Maybe it’ll help you fall asleep.”

“Honestly, this entire conversation has put me in a sleepy mood,” you said but held the book in your lap regardless.

“Oh, that so? Am I not intellectually stimulating?” Michael questioned.

“No, you’re not. I doubt you’re stimulating in any department, truthfully. Maybe after you pass the test tomorrow you’ll be a bit more interesting,” you grinned, noticing the way Michael’s lips twitched.

“Are you questioning my ability to please a person in bed?” Michael gasped in mock-offense.

“Yes, darling, I am,” you laughed.

“So what you’re saying, is that when I pass the test tomorrow,” Michael began slowly, moving so he was beside you on the couch, “I’ll be better able to make someone’s legs shake when they’re beneath me?”

Your breath hitched, but you kept your expression neutral. “Depends on how well of a reigning Supreme you become,” you whispered, trying your hardest to keep your gaze focused on Michael’s blue eyes rather than his lips.

Michael hummed gently and reached over, pushing a piece of (h/c) hair out of your face. “Well, I’ll be the Alpha, love, not the Supreme. So when I do win the test tomorrow, I suppose the two of us will just have to find out how interesting I really am, hm?” Michael practically purred.

“In your dreams, handsome,” you scoffed, despite the raging blush on your cheeks. “It’ll take a lot more than a title to get you in bed with me.”

“So you’re saying it is possible then?” Michael grinned, tilting his head. His knees were pressed against yours and his arm was resting behind your shoulders, on the couch.

“It could be, but who knows. We’ll just have to wait and see. Besides, I never said you were my type,” you smirked, placing your hand on his knee, before roughly pushing down and lifting yourself off of the couch. Michael hissed and stood up as well, following you.

“Leaving the conversation so soon? It was just getting interesting,” Michael complained, gently grabbing ahold of your wrist to keep you from leaving. Where he touched, blossomed with cold, and it felt nice with the crackling of the library fire so close. You turned and held up the book in your hands.

“Reading material, remember? Besides, wouldn’t want you to fail your test tomorrow. Wouldn’t be very interesting of you, now would it?” you pouted. Michael tugged on your wrist, and with a roll of your eyes, you let him pull you close.

“I won’t forget this conversation, fox. And when I pass, I’ll show you just how interesting I can be.”

“Hm, I sure you’d love to do that. But like I said, you’re gonna need to work extra hard to get me in your grasp. So, don’t count on it,” you tsked.

“Looks like I already have you in my grasp,” Michael countered, moving his hand to rest on your waist. You grinned and shook your head at his persistence.

“Yes, but not as tightly as I know you want me to be. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a book to read,” you stated, and spun out of his hold. You waved at Michael over your shoulder, before disappearing through the library door, allowing it to slam shut behind you.

That night, though only two nights ago, seemed so far in the past. Now, standing in the foyer of Miss. Robichaux’s Academy, you found yourself clutching the book Michael had given you, House of Leaves, in one hand, and your duffle bag in the other. You had just gotten back from Hawthorne, and you were saddened to find out that Madison had stayed behind in California to connect with some old Hollywood socialites, to get her name back in the media. You had just gotten Madison back, a mere two weeks ago, and she was gone already for who knows how long. You understood her reasoning, but you still felt saddened, and alone. Zoe had Queenie now, and your mother and Myrtle were doting all over Misty, which left you to your own devices. Nodding to yourself, you hiked your bag higher on your shoulder and made your way up to your room, passing a few new students on the way.

It was weird seeing the academy so full. You were used to three or four girls, maybe five; but never over a dozen. Ever since your mother’s tour, young girls had been ringing the phone left and right, believing they were witches. Some were right, they indeed had gifted abilities and needed help. But others just knew how to tie a string to a lamp and tug on it. It had gotten exhausting weeding them all out through the years, but it was worth it to help the true witches, and to see the smile on your mother’s face each time the doors opened for someone new. And now that Michael had passed the test, and was the new Supreme, things were going to change. Which meant the more girls walking through that door, the better. Even if you had to dodge random flying objects at any point in time, or clean up a magical mess that had happened, or help assist with a traumatized girl who still couldn’t control her powers, or weren’t able to eat a meal because all the food had been snatched up, it was worth it. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Once you got to your room, you tossed your bag onto your bed and collapsed beside it. Your body felt unnaturally hot, like you had gone skinning dipping in a volcano. You didn’t know why, because the thermostat downstairs read 64° and everybody else seemed fine. But you were just so fucking hot. With a heavy sigh, you flicked your wrist and summoned a fresh pair of clothes. Normally you wouldn’t have done that, you took your mother’s words seriously, but you didn’t want to move, and like Michael had said, it’s not like you were in public. You stood up, kicked off your shoes, and grabbed your phone before heading towards your bathroom. An ice cold shower should help do the trick.

Once you had stripped and were moments away before you were about to enter the shower, your phone dinged. Your heart stuttered, and your hand shook as you quickly lifted it from the counter.

Supreme Crunchwrap- ‘How’s Cordelia’

‘She’s okay. With Misty and Myrtle downstairs, I think giving the title away is what hurt her the most’

‘Most likely. You doing better than yesterday?’

‘Oh, is the supreme showing interest in little ole me and my feelings?? *eye roll emoji*’

‘We’ve talked about this Foxx. I’m the Alpha not the Supreme’

*Supreme Crunchwrap’s name has been changed to Alpha Schmalpha*

‘Stop calling me Foxx and we have a deal *double eye emoji*’

‘Now why would I do a thing like that? You’re a fox and you know it’

‘u trippin supreme’

‘Whatever you say, Goode.’

‘Wasn’t so hard, now was it?’

‘My thumbs burn.’

‘Oof, I’m getting the periods. Is the alpha all grumpy now? *deep frown emoji*’

‘Now, that wasn’t so hard was it?’

‘You gonna stop using periods?’

‘I suppose so’

‘hell yeah’

Once you had sent your final text, you realized that you had been standing there for roughly ten minutes. You hurriedly tossed your phone to the side, disregarding any new texts, before jumping into the shower. Your scorching body temperature had been forgotten while you were texting Michael, almost as if you weren’t even hot, but the second the cold water hit your skin, you were moaning out loud. You were positive steam had to be coming off of your skin at the contrast in temperature, but you had your eyes squeezed shut, simply enjoying the cold water. If you were being honest with yourself, which you usually weren’t, you did miss Michael. The two of you had shared a couple, few-minute moments together, but to you, they felt like hundreds of hours.

Sometimes, when you were upset, Michael would text or call you, like he knew something was wrong, and tell you the most random thing known to man. Like asking about your mother, when your skin was burning you alive. Or texting you about how in Switzerland, it’s illegal to only own one guinea pig, while you had been on the plane, pouting about Madison being gone and staring at Queenie and Zoe gossiping in the corner. That one had made you laugh out loud. Or that time a week or so ago, when you and Mallory had gone at it again, resulting in bruises and harsh words. Michael had called you only seconds after you had stormed to your room and slammed the door shut. When you answered the phone, you had obviously yelled at him, but after talking with you a minute or so, he had managed to help calm you down and you were able to apologize. Michael just laughed over the phone, called you an idiot, and hung up the phone.

Things were weird like that, with Michael. But that was okay because you were a witch, and he was a warlock, and things were just weird sometimes.

A few days passed, and you were outside with Queenie, Zoe, Mallory, and a few of the other new students. Cordelia and Misty stood by a tree, demonstrating a preservation technique. Since Misty had returned, your mother had been sure to bring her outside as much as possible and introduce her into nature lessons when the opportunity arose. Misty had been adjusting decently well, she still had nightmares and was unable to deal with anything to do with frogs, but being around the coven was doing her a whole world of good. However, nature classes were never really your forte. Your magic wasn’t nature centered, and you couldn’t do a whole lot with nature anyways, so you often just lingered behind the others, and half-heartedly paid attention. You had talked with your mother about it, so she understood when you zoned out or just flat-out didn’t show up, and you loved her for it. But, you wanted to be here to support Misty, even if there was nothing for you to do.

You had still been feeling hot lately, and it varied from scorching hot to a simple summer day in California. You still couldn't figure it out, but you weren’t about to go complaining to your mom or Myrtle just yet. Chances were, it was just a cold from those grimy boys and it would pass before you knew it. As of right now, your skin felt just as hot as it did when you had arrived back at the Coven. You were subconsciously scratching at your palm, where the heat seemed to resonate while staring up ahead with a glazed-out look. You couldn’t focus on Misty’s words, not with the ever-present heat engulfing your body, but you managed to stay upright, face void of any indication that you were in pain. But then, your phone buzzed in your back pocket, startling you out of your head, followed by Misty’s voice rushing back, at an intensity that made you visibly flinch. You pulled out your phone, and your lips twitched into a gentle smile. He always fucking knew.

Alpha Schmalpha: ‘We’re supposed to use sweat in love potions’

‘Tysm for this information. Are you making a love potion?’

‘Possibly. Don’t know yet’

‘You should. It might take too long for someone to actually fall in love with you’

‘?? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, per usual?’

‘No, I woke up in the bathroom’

‘Fun night?’

‘Nope, it was too fucking hot last night, and the bathroom floor is cold’

‘It’s October, how hot could Louisiana be?’

‘It’s not the state, it’s me’

‘Yes, we know you’re hot. But what’s the got to do with your body temp’

‘No you jackass. I’m physically burning up. Ever since we got back, I’ve been sweating like a mf. I’ll mail you some for your love potion’

‘You know why?’

‘Probably one of you gross ass boys’

‘Don’t talk to your Alpha like that’

‘Suck my ass’

‘Not my kind of thing. Have you told Cordelia?’

‘No she’s been busy. I’m not dying so I’m not worried about it. I just can’t sleep, eat, and everything I wear burns. Nbd’

After you had sent that text, a harsh elbow into your side caught your attention. You looked up, ready to give the newbie a piece of your mind when you saw it was Queenie. You glared and shoved your phone back into your pocket.

“What? No need to elbow me,” you huffed, rubbing your side.

Queenie rolled her eyes and motioned to your pocket. “Who you textin’?”

“None of your concern,” you said, crossing your arms. Queenie raised her eyebrows and turned to face you, crossing her own arms.

“You don’t talk to people outside the school. So, who is it?”

“Madison,” you shrugged, looking ahead.

“Bullshit, Madison hasn’t been answering her phone all fucking week.”

“Maybe not for you, but she has for me.”

“Then let me see. I wanna talk to her too,” Queenie said, holding out her hand. You frowned and turned to stare at you.

“No. My phone is my business, and who I’m texting is my business. I love you, Queenie, but fuck off,” you objected, before turning on your heel and storming back to the school.

“What was that about?” Queenie looked over and saw Zoe peering up at her, eyes switching from Queenie to your retreating form.

“Mini Supreme has a secret that she’s trying to keep. A secret someone, and we’re gonna get to the bottom of it,” Queenie explained, squinting against the sun as you disappeared inside the school.

“Oh, great. That’ll be a piece of cake,” Zoe muttered, rolling her eyes. But she didn’t object and turned back to the lesson at hand.

You made your way into the kitchen and towards the fridge, hell-bent on finding something cold that your stomach would abide by. You opened the freezer and shifted through a few things, until yet another buzzing in your pocket, this time more consistent, occurred. You reached back and pulled it out, noticing it was a phone call. You slid the answer button and held it up to your ear before continuing to search through the freezer.

“You need to eat”, Michael’s voice on the other end was like a soothing hum against your ear.

“I’m working on it, Doc,” you huffed, finally reaching for a cherry popsicle at the back of the freezer. You shut the door and leaned against it, unwrapping the popsicle with your teeth, before popping it into your mouth.

“Something of nutritional value,” Michael said as an afterthought, and you paused to stare down at the phone with an incredulous look.

“How do you know what I’m eating or not eating?”

“A guess.”

“You and your guesses can piss off, thank you very much,” you grumbled, moving to sit down at the island. You lazily popped the popsicle in and out of your mouth, sighing softly as the heat began to subside.

“Now, you don’t really want that, do you?” You could practically see the smug smirk on Michael’s face, and you couldn’t help the eye roll that overcame your body.

“It’d be rude to truthfully want my Alpha to piss off. So no, I don’t,” you admitted, staring out the window at the others.

“What the hell are you doing? It sounds obscene.”

“Nothing,” you said, grinning at the groan that came over the phone.

“What is it?”

“Why do you need to know?”

“Because I wanna know if I was right or not.”

“Guess the world may never know,” you sighed in a sing-song voice. But then, there was the familiar beeping on your phone, signaling a FaceTime call. “Michael you ass,” you complained but answered the call anyway. Michael was sat in the library, lounging on the couch with his hair tousled everywhere. You could see the occasional boy walk by, and you heard a few voices that told you it was more than just Michael in the library.

“A popsicle? Really?” Michael asked, rolling his eyes as you dramatically popped it out of your mouth.

“Yup. It’s cold, I’m hot, can I make it any more obvious?” you snickered.

“Did someone just make an Avril Lavigne reference?” A boy yelled out across the room, and Michael looked over the phone with a bored expression, at whoever had called out.

“It seems busy over there. I’m not disturbing the righteous Alpha, now am I?” you hummed, tapping the tip of the cherry popsicle against your lip.

“I was the one that called,” Michael reminded you.

“Oh, yeah. So really, the Alpha is bothering me,” you said, laughing loudly at Michael’s glare.

“But, I’m serious. You need something that won’t have you crashing in a few hours.”

“There’s nothing! If I eat something hot, I’m throwing it up within seconds. There’s no more bread or sandwich meat, so I’m fucked there. All we really have is ice cream and drinks,” you groaned, crossing your arms on the table, and placing your chin on them so you could pout at Michael through the screen. “Third world problems.”

“Go out and buy a sandwich or something from the store,” Michael said, and your head popped up at the idea.

“Oh, that’s a brilliant id-”

“(Y/N), who are you talking to?” you looked up at the newcomer and winced when you saw it was Mallory. You were quick to place your phone face-down on the counter, shrugging your shoulders. “Nobody you need to know about it.”

Mallory nodded and walked around you, towards the cabinet behind your head. You spun on your chair to face her, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why’d you leave the lesson?” she asked, pulling out something to eat, and turning to face you.

“‘Cause I could.”

“Nature is important. We could wake up one day, and it could all be gone. You should be more grateful for it, and start learning about it,” she chided.

“Nature isn’t my thing, you know. You’re fucking amazing with nature, but I’m not. My magic is mental-centered, and spending a few hours in the sun won’t change that,” you defended. Mallory shook her head and began to leave the kitchen.

“You won’t get very far as a witch, thinking like that. Try harder. You’re the Supreme’s daughter and granddaughter, you should have something to show for it.”

“I do, my mother. I don’t need any special powers to prove that I come from two generations of Supreme’s. My powers are strong on their own, I don’t need to add yours to it. So do me a favor, and get the hell out.”

“With Cordelia dying, it would do her a whole lot of good to know she’s resting her fate in the right hands. But, to one's own I suppose,” Mallory shrugged. Without thinking, you grabbed the apple in the fruit basket at your side and chucked it at her. Mallory yelped as the fruit exploded beside her head, apple fragments flying into her hair and on the floor.

“My mom will not die. She is not resting her fate in my hands, because in case you’ve forgotten, the new Supreme has already been appointed. Michael can save Cordelia if either of them pleases, and if what my mother is saying about the world is correct, there are much bigger problems at hand, than my ability to turn a fucking rose blue,” you growled, each word coming out harder and angrier than the rest. The heat had picked up, sweat now beading down your forehead and neck as you stared straight at Mallory. Her eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing more as she briskly left the room.

Once you were certain Mallory was gone, you let out a loud cry of frustration and tugged at your hair with your free hand. Your popsicle had been long forgotten and had melted down your other hand. You tossed it into the trashcan at your side and wiped off your hand with a paper towel, before picking your phone back up. Michael could see the evident anger in your eyes once you had appeared on the screen, and the library he was in seemed vacant now.

“Who was that?” Michael questioned, once you had opened your (e/c) eyes to look at him.

“Another witch. She means well, I know she does, it’s just… we’re too similar, and we don’t get along. I know she just wants my mom alive and well, and she thinks that because the Supremacy was passed from my grandma Fiona to my mom, that I’ll get it. But it’s not genetic, and it’s already been passed to you. It’s just stressful, ‘m sorry you had to hear that,” you sighed, and began leaving the kitchen, phone held up so Michale could still see you.

“I don’t mind. But she needs to stay out of your business,” Michael said simply. You muttered a quiet ‘yeah’ as you walked up the stairs, passing the occasional student who side-eyed your phone. Once you had safely gotten to your room, you locked the door and tossed your phone onto your bed. “Nice ceiling.”

“I need to change,” you said, stripping off your shirt so you were just in a tank top. You pulled on a pair of pajama shorts as well, before climbing back onto your bed. You laid down on your side and picked your phone back up, holding it in front of you. “Thanks for calling,” you said quietly after a couple of minutes of the two of you just staring at one another. “You always know when something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, I do. It’s hard to explain, but I can usually tell when you’re upset. I’ve got nothing else to do, and you’re not boring to talk with,” Michael explained, his typical smirk replaced with a soft smile- one you hadn’t really seen before.

“Try to explain it,” you urged, biting the inside of your lip. Michael hummed softly and moved himself down the couch, until his head was resting on the armrest.

“Whenever something is wrong, I get this cold feeling on the inside of my palm- almost like I’ve touched liquid nitrogen. I can’t move my hand, at all, not until I’ve texted you or called you. It went away when I texted you after you had left, that’s when I first started figuring it out. I’d gotten the feeling before, once or twice after meeting you, but I texted you that time because I wanted you to see if the same was happening to Cordelia, because at first I thought it was a Supreme thing. But as soon as your name popped into my head, I could move my hand again. So then I texted you, and the feeling slowly started going away. That’s when I figured out that whatever the feeling was, had to do with you,” Michael said, running his thumb over his bottom lip as he spoke. It all seemed so surreal to you, that Michael had this intimate connection with your wellbeing, only days after knowing one another. You could hardly believe it, it seemed like something out of a dark Disney movie.

“Did you say the inside of your palm?” you asked, focusing in on part of what he had said. Michael nodded, and you looked down at your own palm, the one that had been the center of the burning sensation. “Does the cold spread throughout your whole body? Like you’re in the middle of a snowstorm or something?” you inquired, looking up from your hand.

“Sometimes, but not often. When it does, is when I usually call you,” Michael said, and you nodded once more.

“The heat… it does the same thing. It’s hottest at my palm, and then it just spreads everywhere. Sometimes it feels like I’m drenched in lava, sometimes it feels like I’m in California in the middle of summer. It all just varies throughout the day. Like right now? Right now it’s like I’m in California. But earlier, when you had texted me about the potion, I felt like I was being burned alive.”

“That’s more than a simple cold, love. You’re smart enough to realize that,” Michael sighed, tossing his arm behind his head. You bit your cheek and sighed, staring at his arm.

“Yeah, I do know that. But I don’t know what it is, so saying it’s a cold is better than saying ‘I don’t know’,” you pouted, running one of your hands down your face.

“It’s connected to the two of us somehow. You get burning hot, and I get freezing cold. Somehow, our bodies know when something is wrong with the other, and they’re trying to tell us,” Michael deducted, and you groaned loudly.

“That doesn’t make any sense though. Why us? Why the two of us? It all starts with our palms, where we shook hands. Did… did you feel anything when that happened?” you suddenly asked. You had been staring at his arm the whole time you were talking, but at remembering what happened when you shook hands with Michael, your eyes snapped back to his.

“Yes. My hand got hot, and it went into my chest. I thought it was just the fire, but by your reaction, I’m guessing it wasn’t,” Michael confessed, wearily looking at you.

“That happened to me, except for me, it was cold. The second I touched your hand, the feeling went up my arm, and into my chest, too. And before that, I got this… this fuzzy feeling in my head. Like a swarm of bees, made out of cotton, were inside of my brain, and they were all trying to tell me something at once. Like actual words, but I couldn’t tell what they were. And that happened when we all met up by the fire pit,” you confessed as well, sitting up in your bed as Michael sat up on the couch.

“Hm,” he hummed quietly, narrowing his eyes as he stared at you through the screen. “I’ll talk to A-”

“No! Michael, don’t. This stays between us, you got it? Ariel doesn’t find out and neither does Cordelia. This is a Michael and (Y/N) thing only, okay?” you said quickly. You didn’t want anyone prying into your business any more than they already had, and you and Michael both had too many things on your plate already. “We’ll figure this out together, but they don’t need to know about it. Promise me, that you won’t tell anyone.”

“I don’t think the Alpha should be having to make promises,” Michael huffed, leaning back against the couch.

“Michael please, I’m begging you. Don’t do this as the Alpha or whatever. Do this as my friend,” you pleaded, biting down on your lip in worry. Michael looked at you for a few moments before nodding.

“Yes, alright. Between the two of us. A friend thing,” he complied, and you sighed in relief.

“Fuck, thank you. You’re a lifesaver, Michael, I mean it.”

“No, I’m not. This is affecting the both of us. It’s hurting you more than it’s hurting me, obviously, and I want to help you. But if you don’t want anyone to know, than I won’t tell anyone. However, that means you’ve got to promise me something of your own.”

“Alright, what is it?”

“Whenever you start feeling overwhelmed, or too hot, or something is bothering you, you need to tell me. What you feel, I feel, and I need to know what’s going on with you,” Michael said, and you groaned loudly.

“You’re busy, you’ve got things to do! I can’t just text you at two in the morning like, ‘yeah, hey, I’m hot’. That’s not fair for you!” you objected.

“Yes, it is. No matter what time it is, you will tell me if something is the matter with you, no matter what the problem is. Do you understand?” Michael’s voice seemed to grow darker and more serious, the curious, boyish-softness all-but gone.

“Okay, okay, fine. I will. If something is wrong, I will text or call you. I promise,” you sighed, holding up your pinky finger mockingly. Michael grinned, and held up his own, tapping it against the screen.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Bite me, Supreme Jackass.”

Michael Langdon Taglist (OPEN): @omg-luv4lyfe-universe @hesvoid34 @winchesterbloodxxxx @justanotherdaydreamersoul @frozenhuntress67 @michaels-slut @buckynatlarry @sweetcredence @crybabycth @very-aesthetic-pineapple @rainbowxmisa @xlangdons-evilbabygirlx @sherlokid7 @hexqueensupreme @kaliforniacoastalteens @madhatterweasley @skullchik89 @assgardiangoddess @booyouwhoreee @kerouacsroad @moonagecordelia @valentinevirgo @aliahemmings97 @becca-in-outer-space @supersoldierballerina @quione3 @hxdesworld @multi-madison @lanijoyxo @bookwormstrawberry @killcort @shado-cat

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon imagines #michael langdon x reader #ahs #american horror story #ahs apocalypse #american horror story apocalypse #ahs imagines #18 months

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rhabakoli · 6 years ago

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Targets On Their Backs

So, here it is, Part two of this HC by one of @dreamwritesimagines followers, bc I can’t seem to stop myself. It’s about 2.2k words, 4 pages long, and it’s quite... something.

Also, if anyone has a better title, shoot.

Gala and Ubbe had moved Ragnars bed into the new room, while you were walking around in circles, holding you son to your chest and humming softly, trying to keep him calm and quiet. He had started fussing, when Eitr flew out the door. The bird had yet to come back, which made him restless. Ubbe sat on a chair, feet on the table and played with his dagger, his axe on his lap. Even you, inexperienced in war and fighting as you were, could tell what he was doing. “Do you think there’ll be another attack tonight?” He scoffed. “If there’s more than just the one assassin, they’d be mad to try. But I’m still not leaving until someone is here, who can at least throw a dagger.” “I can throw a dagger.”, you murmured. You almost accidentally hit your husband, but who had to know. As it was, you still were glad he wouldn’t leave. “Thank you, Ubbe.”

He made a dismissing gesture. “You’re family. I can’t let anything happen to you.” Gala put the last furs on the bed and then came over to you. “Do you need anything else, before I go?” You smiled at her. “No, thank you, Gala. Get home and rest, today has been… well.” She nodded, gave Ragnar a little wave and was about to leave the room when Hvitserk stepped in, his arms laden with books. They almost collided but he reacted quickly, shifted the weight in his arms and steadied Gala by grabbing her shoulder. “Excuse me, I didn’t see you, Pri-” “It’s Hvitserk.” One corner of his lips pulled upwards. “I don’t like when you call me by my title. I’ve told you before.” “Yes, Hvitserk.” He lit up when she said her name and then went to put the books on your table. “You’re gonna stay here for a while, I thought you might like to have your books here.” “Thank you.” You noticed Gala turning towards the door once again. “Hvitserk, won’t you join Gala on her way home? I am not comfortable with her being alone after the attack.” He didn’t need much convincing. Gala looked at you with wide eyes, before blushing and pulling her cloak closer around her shoulders. Your brother-in-law motioned to the door and bent slightly at the waist. “M’lady.” Ubbe snorted and winked at you, when you turned to him. “Subtle, Sister. Real subtle.”

Ragnar was sleeping in his bed with Eitr, now clean again, residing on the head end of it. She was staring at the door, as if she was expecting someone to storm in at every given moment. You went over to her and stroked her soft feathers, kissed her small head and spoke to Freyja, expressing how grateful you were for her present. You stood there for a while, watching your son and your bird, and you tried not to think about all the ways tonight could have ended. Your son could be dead. Eitr could be dead. Hel, more guards and Gala could have been killed. Oh Gods, Gala. The poor thing had been through so much with you, already. You’d have to prepare a present soon. Something to express your fondness and how much she was needed and appreciated. Maybe you could find her another cat. Surely, Earl Erik could give you some pointers, perhaps he knew someone who had kittens. Then, something else came to mind. “Ubbe.” At you voice, he raised his head and turned slightly in his seat. “Who’s the best at throwing? Daggers, I mean.” “Ivar.” He turned around fully now, sitting backwards on the chair, one arm on the backrest, the other hanging over it, swinging his axe slightly. “Why? Do you want to learn?” “Least I can do, no?” Ragnar gave a little snort, making you look. His soft baby hair was in complete disarray, and you wondered who he had it from. He had a lot of it too. You wished you could ask your mother. “Y/N, do you think that’s the best idea?” “I can’t always rely on you all. At some point, someone’s going to get through, get to us when no one is around.” You straightened your back, raised you chin as you threw him a look. “You said it yourself: You won’t leave until someone’s here who can at least throw a dagger.” You shrugged. “And daggers are way lighter than swords, after all.” Ubbe laughed and shook his head. “You and Ivar really deserve each other.” “What, because it’s uncommon for a woman to handle a weapon?” “No, not for born Vikings. But they also can hold a sword for more than 5 seconds.” “I am not christian anymore, am I?” “I think you’ve never really been.” He leaned his head on his hand, tilting it to the side. “You’ve adapted way too fast. Maybe it was fate after all.” “Thank you.”

Ubbe turned towards the door, when you heard voices. Soon, the door opened. Ivar stepped in, closely followed by Bjorn. “Ivar, you can-” “I know what I can, and what not.” He looked furious. “Don’t try to tell me what to do.” “I’m not, I’m just saying, maybe you should-” “You should shut up.” Ivar came straight towards you, letting his crutch fall to the floor and pulled you close to him. Immediately, your arms were around him and you were pressing your face against his neck. Bjorn threw his hands in the air in a slightly exasperated move and shook his head. You peeked out underneath Ivars jaw, seeing Bjorn pointing at you. “Talk some sense into him.”

Then he turned, gave Ubbe a slap to his shoulder to make him move. At the door, he stopped, smirked, bent at the waist, with one arm stretched to the side and went after the oldest brother. After the door closed, Ivar relaxed a bit. He softened his hold on you and looked over the cribs sides, watching his son sleep. Eitr flapped her wings once and let out a hoarse croak. “Ah, I’ve got something for you.” You raised your head, surprised. “Are you talking to my bird?” “Yes.” Your eyebrows almost left your forehead at that. Ivar ignored you in favour of your bird, who watched his every move. Your husband conjured up a piece of meat, dark, juicy, fresh as could be. He lifted it, Eitr following his hand with her eyes. When he was sure she’d react, he threw it and watched the falcon catch it midair. “You… did you slaughter a goat just for that slab of meat?” He laughed. “No. The cook did.” “But you specially went to get it.” He looked down at you, frowning slightly. “Yes. She murdered an assassin coming after our child.” The look on his face turned grim. “I’d serve her a whole horse, if she was able to eat it.”

You slept awfully. Every other noise made you wake up in a panic, frantically looking towards the crib, where Eitr still watched over Ragnar. Ivar awoke right with you, always, pulling you back down against him, shushing you and stroking over your hair in an attempt to soothe you. Thus, you were exhausted and pale, with red rimmed, dry eyes. You could hear the guards outside talking, muffled voices and laughs. Ivar slept next to you, seemingless dead to the waking world. You slowly got up and went to see your son, who was just like his father. There was no denying it. He was sleeping on his belly, spread eagle in his crib, a bit of fur gripped in one tiny fist and drool collecting on the sheets. You weren’t saying Ivar the Boneless, most ruthless Viking to live, was drooling in his sleep, but… well, if his sleep was deep, contrary to usual... “Y/N.” You jumped, barely keeping in a yelp. “Ivar.” You swallowed your fear, trying to calm yourself. “Did I wake you?” “No, love.” He sat back against the headboard, raising an arm towards you. Quickly, you went over to him and joined him under the covers. His hand came to lay on your back, not breaking contact, even as you positioned yourself against him, arms around his neck and leg thrown over his hip, the other curled against his side. This way, you were eye to eye with him. “Morning.” Ivar nudged your nose with his, pressed his hand between your shoulder blades and kissed you good morning. He came away humming and a serene smile splayed on his lips as he pressed little, soft pecks all over your face and down your neck. “How is the little prince?” “He’s well. Sleeping, drooling, just like his father.” You squeaked, when Ivar bit you in turn. “You dare being this brazen towards your king?” His voice was rough from sleep, deeper than usually. He let his fingertips of his free hand wander up your thigh, pushing up your shift in the process. “I can do as I please, I am the queen, after all.” “Hmmm.”, he rumbled. “That you are.” He grabbed your bum with both hands and lifted you, placing you in his lap. “Ivar!”, you protested. “Oh, shh.” He took your face in his hands, studying it, tilting it from side to side and lastly brushing your hair back from your face. “Are you alright? I know you didn’t sleep well.” “As alright as one can be, after last night.” You stroked over his shoulders, followed his tattoos down his chest. “And I feel like I should ask you that question. You couldn’t have slept much either, with me waking you up all the time.” He shook his head, frown in place. “No, don’t you worry about that. I am more used to it.” He heaved a shaky breath, stopping your hands on his skin by laying his own on top of them.”Y/N.” The way he said you name, made you fear the worst. “What?” “I feel like it is my fault.” “What, the attack?” You were ready to launch in a long rant about his tendency to talk bullshit, when he stopped you. “All of them. Your poisoning, the tea-” His voice broke and he cleared his throat, as he laid a hand on your belly, probably thinking about the child that would have been your first. “The attack on Ragnar.” You took his hand, kissed the palm of it, silently encouraging him to go on. “You can’t deny, it’s been a lot, and it’s been awful for you, for the child as well…” He took a deep breath, eyes now glassy. “And I-” He clenched his teeth, jaw muscles tensing so hard, you were afraid he’d never be able to release them. “I think I should let you go.” “What?” You felt as if he had punched you in the guts. “How did you even-” He clamped a hand over your mouth, big, round eyes looking up at you, pleading. “A better man would let you go, release you from your vows, so you can go away, far away and live without a target on your back.” His eyes hardened before he closed them, hands coming to the back of your head, pulling you back down to him. Ivar breathed you in and leaned his forehead against yours. His hands fisted your hair, holding you close. You mirrored him, stroking your hands up his chest to his jaw, thumbs dragging over the bone. “I am not a good man, love. I can’t let you go, I am too selfish. I need you close, I need to know where you are at all times, so I can protect you, shield you.” It was no lie. He was too headstrong, too impulsive to be a truly good man. But he was good enough for you. He was loving, gentle, with you as well as Ragnar. He even bettered his behaviour towards his brothers. And that you told him. Your fingernails scraped over his skin, brushed through his hair, calming him, as it always did. “You don’t need to be good, to be right for me, Ivar The Boneless, King of Kattegat, most feared Viking of all lands.” He watched your face, hands now on your hips, simply holding you against him. “I don’t think sending me away would do any good. I’d be an easier target, even. I’d still be your wife, I wouldn’t have the heart to deny it. And why is that?” A small smile showed on your husbands face, before he answered what you’ve asked him innumerable times now. “Because I have it.” “You do learn, after all.” Eitr let out a coo from her spot over the bed, a sign that Ragnar was waking up. And true it was, just moments later his baby-blabber filled the room. He was happy and talk active in the mornings, making you dread the time when he’d be actually able to form words. “So don’t think like that. You might be selfish, but you are not at fault. It is the people who seek your throne, your misery, who are to blame.” Softly, you pressed a kiss to his lips and then got up. “The young prince awaits.”

Part 3

#posts i've hijacked #Targets On Their Backs #Ivar the boneless #SEND HELP #IT'S GETTING SO LONG #the baby murder incident #thats the title i saved it under #im awful

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seungminty · 6 years ago

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Tipsy Nights and Heart Eyes // Changbin

prompt: You’re an emotional drunk and really really love your boyfriend (so fluffy it’s ridiculous + ot9!crack) 1.7k

bc I’m always an embarrassing drunk and our boys are the sweetest ever

-mads<3

“So that’s why I believe that the BBC should continue to be licence-free instead of switching to the state for its income.” I nodded along with my colleague, hoping my face didn’t show my internal screaming that had continued throughout the whole riveting 20-minute conversation. I smiled gratefully when he said he was going to go find an intern he wanted me to meet, and I only just managed to stop myself from bolting out the door.

Why the hell I agreed to go to this stupid office party I had no idea. Well, actually, it was probably because everyone at the office thought I was no fun. What they didn't know is that I am also defensive as hell, so damn right I stormed into this packed club 30 minutes late, wearing the sparkliest dress I could find and ready to party. However, the night didn't turn out to be as wild as I thought. A colleague had latched onto me early on, boring me half to death and barely letting me get a word in. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him return with a reluctant looking intern in tow. I looked from them to the group of colleagues doing shots in the corner, weighed up my options, and bolted towards the drunken huddle.

That’s how I ended up 20 minutes later, downing my 5th shot of some neon alcohol, singing an out-of-tune ABBA song and trying very hard not to fall off my bar-stool. My bemused eventually colleagues decided, much to my complaints, that they should probably call me a taxi. I managed to mumble out my boyfriend’s number, and only caught the beginning of the phone call before I was dragged away by our very funny, yet very drunk receptionist to dance. We danced and danced, cheered on by the rest of the club-goers, and for the first time in a long while, I felt relaxed and happy in front of my coworkers. I was so happy in fact, that I was about to attempt a cartwheel when I felt a soft hand clasp the wrists of my raised arms. I turned round to find the amused, yet concerned face of my boyfriend, who I was so happy to see that I immediately wrapped my arms around him, before peppering kisses all over his face. When he overcame the shock, he chuckled, and after grabbing my hands again, whispered in his familiar honey-like voice;

“I think it’s time to get you to bed love, before anyone gets seriously injured.”

I pouted but allowed him to pull me towards the door. As we passed them, I mumbled some sort of farewell to my colleagues, who for once, looked sad to see me leave and cheered me on as I clumsily left the club, but not before I gave them one last air punch as I exited the door. Changbin wrapped his arms securely around my waist and shoulders while I rested my head in the crook of his neck as he walked -more like dragged- me back to his car. I hardly had my seatbelt on when I felt all my giddy drunkness start to evaporate, leaving behind a wave of tiredness. Through my half-shut eyes, I saw Changbin look over at my suddenly crumpled state, letting out a chuckle before he began to reverse out of his parking space and head home.

‘You look super pretty, by the way.’

I smiled as I shut my eyes, the sounds of the car engine and Changbin’s soft humming lulling me to sleep. I was only half-awake when I felt my car door open and Changbin reach across me to unbuckle my seatbelt before helping me out the car. Managing to open my eyes, I quickly realised that no, this wasn't my apartment block, but the dorms. I opened my mouth to object but he seemed to read my mind, as always.

“No, I’m not leaving you at your apartment just because I have work tomorrow. My girlfriend can’t even walk straight, of course, I'm not going to just ditch her.”

My heart swelled at his words, and that was promptly followed by a very strong urge to throw up. Luckily we managed to reach the dorm without any incidents, except an encore of the ABBA songs from myself.

We passed a shocked looking Woojin as we tumbled into the living room, and I was promptly ushered to the sofa and told to sit down to wait for Changbin to find my pjs, and at this point, I was more sleepy than anything else, so I did so without much protest. My eyes were once again half-shut when I felt a soft blanket get tucked around me, and the sofa dip next to me. I opened my eyes and did slightly over-dramatic gasp as I saw Jeongin giving me a shy smile, looking slightly wary due to my drunken state.

“And what do you think of you’re doing this up late young man?” I attempted to use my best mom voice, trying my best to remain stern even though I was pretty sure I added in a few unnecessary words just there.

Jeongin just gave me a sheepish smile and walked away, probably feeling a bit awkward, leaving the newly arrived Hyunjin and Jisung laughing their asses off on the sofa opposite me. I frowned, before attempting to throw a cushion at them. Obviously, I failed miserably, only adding to their giggle fit. I was preparing my second pillow attack when I felt someone gently grab my arm and lower it. I looked up and saw a rather blurry Woojin. Once my eyes caught up I notice he had a cup of steaming tea in his hand, which he gently set down on the coffee table in front of me.

‘Here, for the headache you’re gonna have in about 4 hours.” He held out a couple advils, which I took with a big gulp of tea. I immediately screamed like a little bitch when I realised how damn hot the tea was, once again setting off the giggle twins in the corner, who I'm pretty sure were filming me now. Woojin looked concerned, rushing away to fetch some cold water as I whined, but I'm pretty sure I saw him biting back a laugh. A few minutes later I was curled up on the sofa, with a now thankfully lukewarm cup of tea, surrounded by fluffy blankets, and pretty much most of the boys who were probably waiting to see what dumb thing would come out my drunk mouth next.

They probably didn't expect me to burst into tears.

“Y-you’re all just so n-nice!!! I’m sorry for never really speaking to you, I r-really love you all so much and oh my god you’re just so nice! Jeongin you’re now my son so you ever need anything just ca-” My drunken sobs were cut short by Changbin’s arms wrapping around me and lifting me up princess style up off of the sofa while I sniffed pathetically. I caught a glimpse of the group of very confused and concerned boys behind us, and fortunately so did Changbin.

“Don't worry, shes just an emotional-ass drunk. I got it from here. Come on princess weirdo, I think it’s time for bed.”

He gently sat me down on the bed and began wiping off what was left of my makeup with a wet wipe as I sniffed and babbled on like a damn toddler.

“Your friends are the best.”

“I know.” He smiled gently, finishing with the wipe and helping me into my cosy pjs.

“Like the best best. Especially Woojin. I’m sorry I cried but he brought me TEA! I had no choice!” I exclaimed, getting slightly emotional again.

“Hey now, I thought I was the best best, should I be worried?” He pouted adorably at me, but I could see the hint of humour in his eyes.

“No no no. You’re the best best best. My cutie-pie. My little cutie pie honey bun.” This got a full-on laugh from Changbin, and I even detected a hint of rosiness on his cheeks, and I forgot that sober yn is never really one for pet names. He tried his best to hide his blush as he climbed into bed and lifted the covers and tucked us both in. I sighed contentedly as I lay down on his chest with his arms wrapped firmly around my torso, and decided to deem the night an overall success. Before I drifted off to sleep, I heard him whisper softly,

“Okay, Princess. I'm your honey bun.”

Bonus

“Morning sunshine.” I stirred as I heard Changbin mumble in my ear, before peppering my face with kisses. I smiled and began to open my eyes, noticing the cute little breakfast laid out on the bedside table, but then the headache hit.

“Morni- ohhhhhmygodmfhgf” I smashed my head back into the pillow and winced at the searing pain behind my eyes. I heard a tiny chuckle come from my boyfriend, causing me to reach my arm out to hit his shoulder for laughing at my pain.

“What did I do last night?” I asked once I could think straight again. I was greeted with silence, which I took as a bad sign.

“Oh no. It was bad, wasn't it?” I groaned, finally opening my eyes fully to see my Changbin biting back a smile.

“Well, you sang ABBAs entire discography, almost gave yourself a head injury, burnt your tongue, tried to attack Jisung and Hyunjin, cried for a bit, called me your cutie pie honey bun and then snored like an old man all night, but overall not your worst.”

I facepalmed, already cringing at the conversation I was bound to have with the rest of the boys.

Changbin laughed at my reaction, and I couldn't help but laugh along with him. He took me in his arms again and cuddled us both back up in his soft blankets.

“Hey don’t feel too bad, I heard you were super popular with Jisung’s snapchat followers.”

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artificialqueens · 7 years ago

Text

Daddy’s boy Chapter 3 {biadore} - imafuckinglibra

It is I, the frenchiest fry! We finally got smut people! Everyone can thank me later, also next chapter is smut again bc idk I felt like it. Anyone who ever wondered how trans guys have sex? Same as cis people, shocking ik. But you’ll get to enjoy that throughout these 2 chapters and they have some domestic fluffy goodness mixed in there. Like I said I’m dysphoric af these last few weeks so any transphobic or hateful things Danny says to himself, I apologize for again it was mainly in the last chapter but still sorry for projecting me being sad onto him. Enjoy the smut k bye

Danny grinned devilshly, licking his lips as he pulled down Roy’s pants nuzzling his growing erection through his boxers.“Fuck.” Roy groaned when Danny pulled down his boxers too, joinning his jeans at his ankles. His hand quickly around the older man’s cock stroking it. “You’ll be the death of me.” He whispered trying to contain his smile. Danny smling while licking the tip of his cock, slowly swirling the precum bubbling out around the head for a minute. Roy threw his head back against the wall, gripping Danny’s long hair as he took him all in. Roy was thick, easily filling his entire mouth, the feeling making him moan around it as he found a rhythm that seemed to work. The vibrations coming from his throat making Roy’s dick twitch, growing even more. “Shit, Danny that feels so fuck….” Roy couldn’t even finish his sentence, too lost in the warmth around his tip. Danny smiled, proud that he could make Roy come undone so easily.

He picked up the pace of both his hand and his bopping, pulling the dick out of his mouth sucking the tip efficiently every now and then. He gripped Roy’s tight ass, digging his nails into it as he felt Roy’s grip in his hair tightening too. “Baby, if you keep doing that I’m going to cum way too quickly.” Roy warned opening his eyes to look straight into Danny’s eyes, lust filled and mischievous. Danny dug his nails into Roy’s ass harder making him hiss as he picked up his pace again, pushing Roy’s cock further into his mouth. Roy grabbed his hair tighter, his hips bucking forward on their own as he stared at the boy, his dick hitting the back of his throat. “Fuck Dan.” He grunted again, pushing his head down more, so close to release. Danny’s moaning increased too while picking up his pace, now cupping his balls as well. Roy grabbed his head with both hands, pushing it down a few more times as he grunted loudly, cumming down his throat. Danny made sure not to miss a single drop, swallowing more of Roy every time he felt his dick twitch, shooting warm cum down his throat. Roy let go of his hair, panting heavily when Danny slowly let go of his dick licking the base of it and giving the head a final kiss after licking up some left over cum. “I’m going to fuck you up.” Roy said bending down and picking Danny up.

Danny giggled as Roy carried him to the bedroom, falling on the bed with Roy on top of him discarding the rest of his clothes. Giving Danny a kiss he tasted himself on his lips making him eager to taste Danny as well. “Your turn.” Roy bent down, kissing Danny’s neck, biting at the soft flesh making his skin flare up and his growth grow erect.

Normally in this situation Danny would be in control, avoiding his partner ever having too touch him. Roy’s every move was too perfect, too addictive for his brain to register anything else and want to resist. He took off his shirt, biting his jaw before kissing the freckles on his shoulder. He looked up at Danny, making eye contact with him while he kissed down to his nipple. Post op his chest felt numb yet sensitive when touched, but every time Roy placed another kiss on him, it sent electricity through Danny, ending up straight at his growth. He wanted to stop it, he’d never really let anyone touch his chest this much, but he was too desperate for Roy’s touch to care. Roy’s stare pinning him down, making his need for him grow every second.

Roy sucked at the pink nipple making Danny moan and put a hand through his hair, indicating to Roy he was doing a good job. He sucked on the other nipple biting it gently a few times as Danny tried bucking his hips up to meet Roy’s.

Roy started taking off Danny’s belt when he suddenly shot up. “Don’t, you don’t have to, really.” Panic in his voice, scared of Roy seeing him naked. He came up to look Danny in the eyes, kissing him passionately, bitting his bottom lip. “I don’t have to, but I want to.” He said biting Danny’s jaw again as he unzipped his pants. Danny couldn’t say no, his need for Roy outweighing the shame and dysphoria he felt. He leaned his head back, closing his eyes to avoid looking at Roy or what he was doing. The feeling of dread setting in as he felt Roy pulling at his zipper. “Tell me when to stop and I will.” His voice sincere, taking off Danny’s pants and throwing the packer to the side. Danny nodded, taking in a deep breath to prepare for the worst. Roy removed his briefs, looking at the young man beneath him. “Wow.” He breathed out running his hands along Danny’s thighs, kneeling down between his legs hanging off the bed. “Danny, you’re so fucking stunning.” Danny’s eyes shot open, he sat up on his elbows to see if he had heard him correct and this was actually happening. His gaze darted from the beautiful dimples framing a smile to his crotch. Seeing Roy swirl his tongue around his erect growth making the boy moan loudly and fall back onto the bed, gripping the sheets. Roy’s smile grew at the reaction, wanting to make him feel as much pleasure possible. He took Danny in his mouth sucking on him and bopping his head slighly. He flicked his tongue over his head as he sucked it, looking up to see if Danny was enjoying it or if it was too much for him.

"Fuck yeah.“ Danny moaned as if he read Roy’s mind. His voice was strained as he arched his back moving his hips up to fully enjoy Roy’s skillful mouth. Roy enjoyed the view of the boy clearly getting close to his own release. He reached up, grabbing Danny’s hips tightly, black nails digging into his soft, pale skin. Danny started moving his hips up more unable to control them, Roy holding them down tightly as he sucked on him harder, hollowing out his cheeks and bopping his head faster. "Fuck.” Danny moaned loudly, his voice breaking as his knuckles turned white from gripping the sheets. His vision went dark, his body bucking a few times into Roy’s mouth before falling onto the soft sheets, his skin damp and his breathing heavy. Roy kissed his thighs soflty before grabbing onto a piece of skin and biting it, marking the boy as his.

Danny, still panting heavily, didn’t look up but made grabby hands at Roy as he tried containing his amusement climbing on the bed and kissing Danny’s neck and jaw till he regained his composure. “Fuck that was good. What the hell?” Danny finally asked sitting up on his elbows and looking at Roy. He chuckled and gave Danny a kiss. “So giving good head is a bad thing? I know my way around dick.” “Yeah but, I don’t,’ His voice trailed off again shifting his view from Roy’s eyes to his lower half. Roy sat up, pulling Danny onto his lap. "You do have a dick, otherwise I wouldn’t have sucked it now would I?” Roy whispered cupping Danny’s face, making sure he had his full attention.

Roy was the first lover Danny had been with that made him feel comfortable with his body, he always felt ashamed, like he had to prove to his partners he could make up for what he was lacking. He was different, he made Danny feel like he was complete,lacking nothing , like his body was nothing to hide. He felt tears forming in his eyes as Roy hugged him, holding him tightly, their bodies pressed together as if they were becoming one. “I do have one question though.” Roy said making Danny panic slightly as he let go of him looking into his dark eyes. Roy pushed him off onto his back. “How does someone who eat so fucking much, stay so tiny?” He asked patting Danny’s belly making him giggle uncontrolablly covering his mouth with his hands. He rolled over to avoid looking at him earning a smack on his ass hard enough it left a handprint. “Nice tattoo.” Roy smirked kissing the cresent moon on his cheek. Danny rolled over again, jumping on Roy making him fall over. The 2 of them stayed like that for a few minutes, laughing between kisses, Roy’s hands firmly gripping his round ass. “Now,” Roy finally said interrupting the moment. “Can we please go to bed? I’m fucking tired.”

Roy layed on his side yawning while Danny went to get a glass of water, he felt himself drifting off to sleep unable to keep his eyes open when Danny returned. He got in next to the man nuzzling his face into his neck, Roy wrapping his arms around him pulling him in as close as possible. “Definitely scewed.” Roy yawned a final time making Danny giggle, kissing his shoulder.

Roy flipped the piece of toast in the pan making it sizzle, the delicious smell of french toast wafting through the entire apartment. “Your cooking is almost as good as your head.” Danny moaned taking another big bite, wiggling his legs with delight. Roy laughed at the young boy eagerly holding out his plate for another piece. “Keep eating them that fast and you’ll get fat.” Roy teased putting the last piece of hot toast on his plate picking up his coffee. He went to sit down next to Danny, giving him a quick kiss. “It all goes to my ass, it’s okay.” “You sure about that?” Roy asked rubbing his belly, “At what point do I start getting my good luck?” “I am your good luck.” Danny slapped his hand away, trying to look as serious as possible as he took another bite. “That you are.” Roy couldn’t help but grin at the idiot. He made him feel whole, like something that was missing his whole life had been filled. Something about him kept pulling Danny to him like a magnet. Danny reached out, caressing Roy’s cheek noticing a bit of grey in the slight stubble. “You’re kind of giving me daddy vibes with this grey patch.” Roy laughed, flashing his bright smile. “Oh god, am I that old?” Danny shook his head before giving Roy another kiss. “No, but you’re total daddy material.” Roy swallowed down the last of his coffee, stealing a bite from Danny’s plate. “And you’re not human.” He joked, licking his lips. “Nope, I’m a creature of the ocean.” Danny sing songed, flicking his hair back majestically, sitting up straighter and holding his ass out. “Emphasis on the creature.” Roy joked running his fingers along Danny’s smooth back.

“You want to go shower and take these two to the dog park?” He asked, Danny’s face lighting up more than the dogs’ at the mention of the trip. “A day with my babies?” He jumped off the stool picking Dede up and kissing her. “And my daddy.” He added winking at Roy. “Never mention that in front of the others, I beg of you.” He said running his finger through his hair, getting up and giving Dede and Danny’s forehead both a kiss. “You can go first, just leave me some hot water.” He went into the bedroom to see what clothes he had that would fit Danny too. Danny opted to wear his own jeans but taking a shirt from Roy, mainly so he could enjoy the smell of him all day.

“Shane mentioned a talent show at the school coming up, all the music majors can enter for extra credit.” Danny mentioned as he and Roy walked hand in hand, watching the small dogs run around the field. “You know I’ve never heard you actually sing, you good?"Roy laughed raising his brow earning a shove from Danny. He just put his arm around the taller boy and pulling him closer to kiss his cheek apologizing for the joke. "I did have a song in mind, I wrote it a while ago but I’ve kind of been thinking of writing a new one about you instead.” Roy looked at the blushing boy. “Oh?” “Yeah, it’s about your blow job abilities. The world needs to know.” He joked leaning down to take the stick from Sammy, throwing it out for him again. “If you did I’d fucking kill you. I know a guy who can get me out of prison.”

“Think you’ll do great at the show though.” Roy said getting back into the car with the 2 dogs in the back seat, laying down and panting. “Come here.” Danny asked pulling Roy closer handing him the phone. “You take it.” Danny leaned in against Roy, pouting his lips and holding a finger to his chin, Roy smiling contently and taking the selfie. “Now I have a cute new lock screen of my cute new man.” Danny giggled fiddling with his phone as Roy drove off. “About that, I know you guys said it was safe but I still think we should keep the pda and all that a bit more secret don’t you?” Roy asked pulling up to a light, caressing Danny’s cheek before driving off again. “I mean, do I still get to kiss you or call you daddy?” Danny’s voice was low as if not being abe to touch Roy again was hurting him. “You can kiss me when we’re not around people or at school. The daddy thing though, let’s keep that to a minimum in general.” Roy laughed pulling into the garage of his building, the thought of his friends hearing it making him get chills. “So, can I kiss you now?” Danny asked getting out of the car and walking over to Roy who was taking the dogs out, holding on in each arm. “Yes, you may.” He smiled as Danny held his face pulling him in for a kiss.

Roy had dropped Danny off at his apartment after they fell asleep on his couch for an hour, saying he had some school things to take care of and Danny had his song and projects to work on. “Oh hey, one of you bitches are still alive.” Jay said before taking a hit from his pipe. “Jason is still out, just texted him.” Danny came to sit down next to his friend refilling the bowl before also taking a hit. “He’s probably still fucking Matt and claiming to not be an item, they totally are though.” He said exhaling, Jay nodding his head and getting up to go look for food. “I brought leftovers from my lunch with those friends yesterday.” Danny waved over to the counter where he had placed the tupperware and took another hit. “Tell your sugar daddy he makes good food.” Jay joked taking a bite from the veggie patties in one of the containers. “I don’t have one, plus fuck you those were a group effort.” “Sure, because you went home with and spent the day with a close acquaintance. It’s all good, get it mama.” Danny threw a pillow in his roommates direction, taking the rest of the veggie patty before going to his room.

Danny spent the rest of his day working on his song for the contest realizing he forgot to take Roy’s number and cursing at himself. His phone lit up with an instagram notification, ignoring it at first but then seeing the name of his new follower - thebiancadelrio. He smiled, throwing his guitar to one side and jumping at the phone. He clicked the user seeing pictures of Roy in full clown gear and getting excited. He rolled onto his back, kicking his legs in the air before jumping up and running to the bathroom. He was still wearing the red shirt Roy had given him. He pulled down his pants enough for his tattoo too peek out and just above his growth, making sure it looked unclockable but still having his hairy tummy and groin on display. He held up the shirt with one hand resting it on his head, turning slighty and taking the selfie. He looked at the slight bruising on his hips remembering how tightly Roy gripped it trying to control his moving, he smiled feeling sly as he typed out the caption and posted it.

Roy was working on the lecture plan for the next week when his phone buzzed with the notifcation of dannynoriega posting something. He unlocked his phone opening the image. Danny’s fabulous body driving him wild causing him to bite his pen, he looked at the caption. “daddy’s boy”

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