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I have an idea for Leah. Maybe Leah preparing to propose to reader? Like picking out the ring, arranging the plans to do it & what to say. Being super stressed that it goes well.
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The engagement ring is currently sitting in the drawer of Leah’s bedside table. It’s been there for three days. That’s seventy-two hours of her life spent mentally cycling through increasingly absurd ways to ask you to marry her—none of which feel remotely good enough. Yesterday, she briefly considered hiring a flash mob but abandoned the idea when she realised she couldn’t name a single person in her life who would willingly agree to dance in public.
The ring itself is a masterpiece—or, at least, Leah tells herself it is, because the thought of you hating it makes her chest constrict like a bad asthma attack. It’s a gold band, delicate but not fragile, and the diamond is small but impossibly bright, practically nuclear under artificial light. It reminds her of you. Elegant, unassuming, but blindingly brilliant. She spent hours debating between gold and platinum, flipping through online forums and texting Beth for advice, only to be told: Mate, just get what she’ll actually like. Helpful.
She chose gold, naturally, because you once mentioned in passing that platinum felt too cold. You probably don’t even remember saying it, but Leah does. She remembers everything. Like the fact you can’t stand carnations (“soulless flowers”) and that you always eat the crusts off your toast first because it’s more “structurally satisfying.” She’s built this proposal on a foundation of your quirks and preferences. It’s practically a thesis at this point.
Her plan is a dinner reservation at that restaurant—the one with the hand-written menus and waiters who always remember you like your wine dry. She’s already called them to arrange for a quieter table in the corner, away from the clatter of silverware and the prying eyes of other diners. She’s even considered what to wear: a crisp, white shirt with the sleeves rolled to the perfect midpoint of her forearms (which you once confessed makes her look “obnoxiously fit”) and tailored trousers she had altered just last week.
But even with all this planning, Leah feels like she’s holding a ticking bomb. She’s stressed in a way she hasn’t been since that penalty shootout against Brazil. She’s pacing the flat now, her steps echoing faintly on the hardwood floor. “This is ridiculous,” she mutters under her breath. “It’s just a question. Four words. Five if I add a ‘please.’ Six if I say her full name.”
“You alright there?” Beth’s voice crackles through the speakerphone, equal parts curious and entertained. Leah forgot she left her phone on the kitchen counter, still connected to the ongoing call.
“I’m fine,” Leah says, glaring at her phone like it’s personally betrayed her.
“No, you’re not. You’re spiralling”
“I’m not spiralling”
“You’re literally pacing like a dad waiting for news in a hospital drama”
Leah stops pacing. “I just… I want it to be perfect”
“It will be perfect. She loves you, doesn’t she?”
“Yeah, but what if she hates the ring?”
“She won’t”
“What if she says no?”
“She won’t”
“What if I say something stupid like, ‘I can’t wait to do your taxes together’?”
There’s a beat of silence, and then Beth’s laughter bursts through the speaker like an explosion. “Honestly, that’s probably exactly what she’d expect from you”
Leah groans, rubbing her hands over her face. “This isn’t funny”
“It’s a little funny”
She ends the call before Beth can continue her unsolicited pep talk and sits down on the sofa, staring at the box in her hand. It’s absurdly light, considering the weight it carries. She snaps it open, then shut. Open, shut. Like the world’s most expensive stress toy.
You walk into the flat a few hours later, shrugging off your coat with a small sigh. Leah, who’s been pretending to read the same page of a book for the past twenty minutes, immediately tenses. The ring box is hidden in her pocket now, a phantom weight pressing against her thigh.
“Hey,” you say, dropping onto the sofa beside her. “You alright? You look… weird”
She blinks at you, heart pounding. “Weird?”
“Yeah. Like you’ve seen a ghost or just remembered you left the oven on”
She laughs nervously, her hand twitching towards her pocket. The words are there—Will you marry me?—but they stick to her throat, stubborn and immovable.
“Leah?” you prompt, looking at her curiously.
And just like that, she panics.
“Do you want takeaway tonight?” she blurts, the words spilling out in a rush. “I’m thinking Thai”
You raise an eyebrow but nod. “Sure. Thai sounds good”
The proposal will have to wait. Again.
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the air cools
2.5k words, raider Joel x f!reader
SUMMARY: A few loosely connected vignettes taking place throughout fall and winter, ending with a raider family Christmas. 🖤⛓️ 🌸🫛🐶👱♂️. My gift to those of you who love these characters. I love y'all so much. This is an 18+ blog.
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“What do you guys give each other for Christmas,” you asked Joel in early fall, secretly digging for a lead on what to get him for his birthday. It was bedtime and your head was on his bare chest.
“What makes ya think we celebrate Christmas?"
“Yeah I know, it’s a godless world," you conceded, "but it's an excuse to celebrate each other.”
Joel took a breath as though getting ready to speak, but you cut him off, “Don't say it”
“What?” He asked.
“something like,” (you lowered your voice slightly) "no one should celebrate me."
“Wasn't gonna,” Joel claimed.
“Then what were you gonna say?” You challenged him.
“I was gonna say…” he rolled you over and glanced down at your bare breasts before bringing his mouth to your neck. He murmured into your skin, “celebrate each other all the time.” He hiked up your leg, and dragged his lips from your neck to your ear to whisper, “celebrate each other all night if ya want.”
You giggled, then a rush of desire drowned out your amusement as his arousal swelled against you.
—--
\\\\\\
—--
Joel would never let the dog onto the bed. That's where he drew the line. The bed was Joel's domain. It was for you and him, period. He didn't even want the dog in the bedroom, because that was one step closer to the bed.
But one time, it was storming, and Bullet was scratching at the bedroom door. You slithered out of Joel's tight embrace and got out of bed. Joel kept snoring. You were going to take Bullet back to the living room and calm him down, but as soon as the bedroom door cracked open, the dog bolted over to a pile of laundry in the corner of the bedroom and started making a nest in it. You watched him circling and nosing the fabric for a few seconds until he settled in. He lowered his head to rest on his paws, and looked up hopefully.
You petted him, “Shhhh.” His tail was down, but he wagged it a little in what felt like a promise.
You left the door cracked open as if the dog had opened it himself. He was a very good boy all night. Even with loud claps of thunder, his whine stayed very quiet, and neither you nor Joel woke up. Bullet even went back to the living room unprompted once the storm quieted. You quietly washed the laundry the next day.
-
This happened a few more times, and Joel never found out, as far as you knew. Except for one time when he woke up before you and saw the tell-tale dent in the laundry, and, upon further inspection, some light orange hairs. Joel's nostrils flared only slightly, and he shook his head to himself. But he just shook out the clothes and never said anything.
Then, one day, Joel was in the trailer park down the hill, looking for supplies and assessing how dangerous the area was getting. In a trailer that wasn't burned too badly, he saw a sofa cushion with a little dent in it that reminded him of that dent in the laundry. He put the cushion under his elbow and later stashed it in a closet with some colder weather clothes he’d picked up for you throughout the year.
—---
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—---
“I hope he likes this,” You whispered to Joel, hoping Carter wouldn't hear you over the noise of whatever DIY project he was working on outside. You were sitting on the floor, holding a thick, weathered paperback in your hand.
“Lemme see,” Joel said, and you handed it to him.
He chuckled at the cover–a pirate embracing a lady from behind, both their hair windswept. Then he thumbed through the wrinkled pages, stopped at one, and his eyebrows shot up. “engorged member,” he mouthed and his face wrinkled.
“Hard cock,” you translated.
“heaving bosom…” he read.
“That's boobs,” you explained.
Joel closed the book as much as it would close, given the warped pages, and he handed it back to you. “M’sure he’ll like it,” Joel tried not to laugh.
“What?” You asked. “Don't you ever feel bad that he's alone?”
“It's a sweet thought, baby.”
“You didn't want me to write one myself, remember….”
“sure as hell didn't,” he agreed. “don't need to be writin’ about anyone else's engorged anything,” Joel said.
“wasnt gonna do anything graphic. I just thought it might be nice if the main character was a man, and the pirates are girls and guys.”
He couldn't help but wonder, was this the kind of filth you were thinking about when you went to bed early? He had trouble believing it. You knew you were his. But he still asked. “What else ya got? Any more books?”
Joel cocked his eyebrow and warned you, “Leave it.”
Your face heated up and your eyes shifted around. “Nothing like that,” you promised.
Joel studied your face and said, “yeah?”
Your eyes flitted to the floor and his jaw clenched. You cursed yourself for the dead giveaway.
He looked under the bed and pulled out a single, tattered paperback book. “What's this?” He asked before inspecting it.
“Nothing,” you said, with your whole upper body on fire. “Just something I was–”
Joel studied the front cover. It was a battle scene with a man posing valiantly with his shirt wrapped open. A piece of paper was haphazardly fastened to the cover with some kind of glue. The paper covered the man's face but his flowing hair still emerged from the left and bottom edges. The paper was beginning to curling off on that side, and the pencil was fading. Joel swallowed as he took in the drawing. A man from the neck up, complete with a bulging neck vein. Dark hair, dark eyes, a mustache, some scruff, and an unmistakable scowl.
Joel raised his eyebrows and rubbed his lips together.
“It's stupid,” you said and reached for it.
“This what ya read?” he asked as he opened the cover.
“No, I just–when you were gone for a night, I thought it could be-”
The title page, The General and the Girl, had “the general” crossed out and something scribbled above it. He squinted and braced for what he assumed would read "raider," but it didn't. “Killer,” it read. And he wasn't sure if that was better or worse.
“Hm,” Joel observed, then noticed “the” was crossed out too. The Killer and *his* Girl. He thumbed through a few more pages and you had crossed out inaccurate descriptions of both of you and then after the first chapter or so the annotations stopped.
Joel ran his thumb over the scrawled text, and you offered, “He only kills bad guys …”
He closed the book and handed it back to you without further discussion.
A sawing noise vibrated through the wall, followed by something crinkling.
Joel changed the subject back to Christmas. “You know what I think Carter could use?”
“What?”
“Somewhere nice to sleep.”
“He doesn't have one?” you never really thought about it, because Carter always made a point of bragging that he could sleep anywhere.
“How'd ya feel about him movin’ into the trailer?”’
“Really?” You asked.
“Safer for us, nicer for him…”
You smiled and he muttered, “c'mere. You're a good girl, sweet pea.”
You were relieved he didn't find your sketchbook.
—--
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—--
Christmas Eve
It was only afternoon, and you already felt like you wouldn't be able to sleep that night. You and Joel had made up a bed for Carter in the living room, which you barely used anyway. You made sure it was away from the leak. There was a quilt and a pillow. You even nailed a sheet between the kitchen from the living room to serve as a privacy curtain since there was no door. You slid the pirate book onto the shelf among the other books.
“We should do it all tonight,” you suggested.
Joel silently laughed at you, then shook his head no.“C’mon. Let's go for a walk,” he said. He didn't really care about the timing, except that he got a kick out of your enthusiasm. It was better than any gift he could've asked for.
-
After the sun set, Carter came up the hill. “Alright, I know Christmas is tomorrow, but I gotta give ya my present tonight.”
“Me too!” You agreed.
“Sweet pea,” Joel shook his head with a chuckle.
“Aw shoot,” Carter said unconvincingly. “I left the bird behind.” Joel had also shot two birds for the other men, and Carter brought them all down to the house to pluck. He sent both you and Joel down there to get the one you would share. Bullet trailed behind.
Joel poked around the storage area trying to buy Carter some time, then he grabbed the goose and when he came back outside bullet did a happy circle.
When you got back to the trailer, a flickering orange glow was visible in the window. Carter had set up a freestanding fireplace hearth in the corner of the kitchen. Joel didn't seem surprised. After all, Carter wouldn't do something like that without permission. But apparently he had hauled the heavy unit on his own, cleaned it out, and fitted the exhaust pipe to a hole he sawed in the wall. The job looked professional.
You had a cozy dinner in the kitchen and lingered around the table enjoying the warmth together while the men drank a spiced wine you made. When the fire died down, Carter announced he better head off to bed.
You and Joel looked at each other and Joel gave you the go-ahead nod toward Carter's new quarters. Joel's eyes sparkled as your face lit up.
With Carter almost out the front door, you said, “where are you going?” He turned around, and you pointed toward the end of the trailer. “Your bed’s in there.”
Carter looked at Joel, and Joel nodded. You grabbed him by the elbow and led him through the kitchen and held the sheet aside for him.
Carter took in the view, then looked back at Joel in case you had gone rogue. Joel nodded. “Might as well crash here, whenever ya want I mean.” Joel shrugged.
Carter tried to refuse, because he was committed to keeping an eye on things down at the house and keeping things under control. “Ain't no troublemakers down at the house these days,” Joel reasoned. “Rather ya keep an eye on this one,” he nodded toward you and pinched your chin.
“You got it, boss.” Carter didn't know what else to say. He and Joel shook hands and the look they shared told you it might as well have been a hug.
Carter went to bed in the newly improved space. Bullet went to sleep on the kitchen floor, right in front of the hearth, enjoying the heat that still radiated from the metal.
-
After enjoying a leisurely Christmas eve romp in which you tried not to be too loud, you and Joel settled in for bed. As you predicted, you weren't tired enough to sleep.
“Do you know the night before Christmas?” You asked Joel, snuggled into the crook of his arm.
He looked at the ceiling and thought. “Somethin’ ‘bout ma and pa wearin’ hats,” and you nodded encouraging him. He tried to continue, “And, uh…. mouse that can't hear nothin’?”
You giggled and buried your face in his arm, again trying not to be too loud. “What?” he asked.
“not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,” you recited.
“You're gonna stir all night, ain't ya?” Joel asked. “‘less I tucker ya out,” he mused. He turned over, letting part of his weight onto you. He pressed soft kisses onto your neck, then chest, then slid his mouth to your breast and the pull of his lips made you whine. Soon, he became a shape under the sheets, a silhouette stirring between your legs.
He knew how to put you to sleep.
—--
Christmas Day
In the morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee. You dragged a paper bag out from under the bed. You'd drawn stars and trees on it in pencil and labeled it “J. Miller” Joel and Carter were already in the kitchen and there were presents wrapped in old newspaper and string.
You asked Joel to open his first but he refused, wanting to drag out your eagerness as long as possible.
Joel gave you an assortment of sweaters, just in time for the cold weather. Different colors and textures. Cozy and perfect. The last package he handed you wasn't as fluffy.
You carefully untied it and saw corduroy. You ran your hand over the ribs and the fabric was still smooth, however many years after it was made. You held up the garment and it was pants. He willingly gave you pants.
After a moment of silence, Joel mumbled “might not be *that* cold just yet, but–” Carter laughed at him.
You went and sat in Joel's lap and handed him his gift bag. He opened it and pulled out a thermal Henley, a cable knit sweater in decent condition aside from a few snagged threads. You suspected it might be a little tight on his arms, but he never seemed to mind.
The last thing in the bag was a spiral-bound notebook. Your sketchbook. He opened it and his face went serious as his eyes poured over every detail–sketches of him. Joel wiping his sweat with a rag, holding a wrench. Joel sleeping. Joel holding a figure that could only be you. His face softened and his jaw twitched as he studied that one. When he finally moved on to the next page, his face turned pink. He quickly closed the book and cleared his throat. “Sweet pea,” he laughed in faux admonishment. You could've given him that one in private, but you didn't want to tear anything out of the book.
“I drew what I like,” you shrugged, and kissed him on his burning cheek.
“You’re talented, baby,” he said. “Thank you.”
“Merry Christmas,” you wished him, and he kissed you on the forehead. “Merry Christmas, baby.”
“I'll make breakfast,” Carter offered.
“Oh. One more thing,” Joel said. “Can't forget the big guy.” Joel eased you off of his lap and stretched before going to the supply closet and retrieving the cushion with the little dip in it.
He plopped it into the floor and bullet came over and sniffed around it, then scratched at the fabric before settling into it.
“And,” Joel interrupted himself with a weak sigh. “As long as he don't get on the bed, when it’s rainin’ ya can bring it..” he nodded toward the bedroom.
You wrapped your arms tight around Joel and he cradled your head. “Alright,” he said. “I'm gettin’ hungry.”
------
Thank you for reading 🖤🖤🖤
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F!reader combing through Sergei’s hair as he lays his head in her lap… so sweet! 💖
word count 680
There were few tells if Sergei has had a rough hunt. For one, he's clingy – more so than usual. Second, he's constantly messing with his hair. Be it running his fingers through the curls, pushing them behind his ears just to run his fingers through his hair and have it fall back into his eyes or simply him fiddling with it.
No matter what, it always ended up a tangled mess that he rarely had the patience to deal with. Insert you. If there's one thing you have patience for, it's him. Especially when it comes down to taking care of him, which he so rarely lets you, the need to never be vulnerable still ingrained into his mind by his father.
However, slowly but surely he's been adapting. Small tells that indicate he wants you to just baby him for a moment, to let him relax in a way he usually only can when he sleeps out in the woods.
For example now. You've been sitting on the couch, reading your book, for only about thirty minutes now, cozy. When he comes home you acknowledge him with a soft smile and accept the peck he presses to your lips when he makes his way past you and into the bathroom for a shower.
First hint that his hunt hadn't gone as planned was his frown and the lingering hand on your shoulder, a silent demand for you to join his shower. Which you usually would have but you had just showered earlier yourself and the book was just too good to put down. So, he had a quick shower just to come out sulking, tiny pout on his face and frown even more prominent.
You suppose he either has no clue how obvious he's being about his need for affection or he knows exactly but still doesn't want to make the first move. And you'd love to see him keep pouting and being sulky, but you have too big of a soft spot to leave him be.
The perfect opportunity arises when you see the tangled mess of his hair and his tense movements. He usually cared for his curls just enough to keep them healthy and looking good but when his day has been really bad he doesn't bother to do anything. Especially because it will guarantee you sitting him down and carefully brushing and oiling his hair (which he'll never admit he loves so much that he has to fight falling asleep every single time).
“Sergei?”
He turns to look at you, lip twitching in a silent wince as something in his back pinches and pulls tight. “Hm?” he grunts in reply.
You put a bookmark between the pages you were just reading and set it aside, then pat your lap.
He remains stoic for a second and then walks over, steps as silent as always. He lays down with a grunt, head in your lap and feet over the edge of the sofa. You grab the brush from the coffee table (left there just a few days ago when he'd demanded you to brush his hair) and start carefully combing out the knots and ends. His expression softens up, eyes keenly watching you.
He turns his head sideways so you can reach the back of his head and occasionally lets you turn his head the way you need to. “Did you pull something in your back?” you inquire, the difference in his movements still at the forefront of your mind.
“Don't worry ‘bout it, love,” he grunts, ready to just wait out the injury. You furrow your brows and pinch his shoulder in warning, making him sigh. “It's not too bad. Just need to do some stretching.”
Halfway satisfied with that answer and mentally noting to keep an eye on it, you keep combing out his hair until it's nice and smooth again, wayward curls framing his face prettily.
You reach down to cup his cheek and smile softly, making him lean in and kiss the pulse point of your wrist, lingering there and just breathing you in. Just like that your book is forgotten for the moment as you massage his scalp and let him place kisses all along your arm that is resting over his chest.
#aaron taylor johnson#sergei kravinoff#kraven the hunter#kraven x reader#sergei kravinoff x reader#atj x reader#atj#aaron taylor johnson x reader
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tinsels, taunts, and tom
tom riddle x reader where you decorate the common room and tom.... defends you?
↬ word count : 1,614 words ˎˊ˗
↬ warnings : reader may exhibit dangerous levels of stubbornness, some rude slytherins but tom defends you (✿ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)⁾⁾
↬ author's note : merry christmas, everyone! may your holiday be as magical as tom riddle pretending to enjoy decorations. 💙
navigation┆tom riddle masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚
Snow blanketed the grounds of Hogwarts, but within the Slytherin common room, warmth flickered from the green-tinged flames in the fireplace. The space had a quiet charm to it—too quiet, in your opinion.
Most students had left for the holidays, save for a few Slytherins who preferred the quiet, or in Tom Riddle’s case, who preferred to brood in solitude. That left you with plenty of opportunity to act on a whim: transforming the stark, monochromatic room into something a bit more festive.
You looped garlands of silver and green around the ornate mantelpiece and placed charmed candles on every surface. Even the windowsills bore sprigs of enchanted holly that glimmered faintly under the dim light.
“I fail to understand why you’re bothering with this,” Tom said, perched in an armchair with a book in hand. His voice carried the kind of disinterest he reserved for things beneath his notice.
You flashed him a grin, not pausing as you draped mistletoe above the archway. “Because, Tom, not everyone enjoys lurking in a dark cave all winter. Some of us find joy in life.”
“Joy,” he echoed, as if testing a word in a foreign language. “A fleeting and frivolous emotion. But please, continue. Your nonsense is vaguely entertaining.”
“Your approval means everything to me,” you deadpanned, stringing silver tinsel across the doorway. “Truly, I don’t know how I’d carry on without it.”
His lips quirked, almost imperceptibly. “You’d manage, I’m sure.”
“Riddle, say, do you ever smile? Like, ever?”
Tom glanced up from his book, a slim brow arching with the kind of disdain that could shrivel a mandrake. “You do enough smiling for the both of us. Why should I bother?”
“Because,” you huffed, perched on a stool as you tried to untangle a particularly rebellious string of fairy lights, “it’s Christmas. Smiling is part of the package deal. Like eggnog or cozy sweaters or—”
“Or, apparently, turning the common room into some kind of… garish shrine to consumerism,” he cut in, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You gave him a look, shaking the lights pointedly at him like a disappointed parent wielding a wooden spoon. “Garish shrine? These lights are enchanted to sparkle with the precise hue of Slytherin green. If anything, I’m showing house pride.”
“House pride,” he repeated dryly, his dark eyes trailing over the half-decorated room. Silver garlands draped the walls, enchanted snowflakes floated lazily in the air, and a miniature tree twinkled merrily on the table. “I’m sure Salazar Slytherin himself would be positively weeping with joy at the sight of… this.”
“Salazar could use some joy,” you shot back. “That man’s portrait looks like he’s smelled burnt toast for five centuries straight.”
Tom’s lips twitched—just for a moment—but he quickly hid it behind a derisive scoff. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, you’re still here,” you said sweetly, finally hopping off the stool. You turned to him, hands on your hips. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed, Riddle. For someone who claims to hate Christmas decorations, you haven’t moved from that chair since I started.”
Despite his clipped tone, he hadn’t moved from his spot. He even turned a page in his book at a leisurely pace, as if to say he wasn’t paying attention—but you knew better.
“I’m merely here to witness the inevitable disaster,” he replied smoothly. “Someone needs to be on hand when you inevitably fall off that stool or set something on fire.”
“Oh, how thoughtful,” you said with mock sincerity, clasping your hands dramatically to your chest. “My hero.”
He rolled his eyes, returning to his book, but not before you caught the faintest hint of amusement lingering on his face.
It wasn’t long before you had the entire common room glowing with soft, enchanted lights and sparkling decor. You were putting the finishing touches on the small Christmas tree when the door opened, and a group of boys from your house sauntered in.
“Well, well,” one of them drawled, his smirk as sharp as a serpent’s fang. “What do we have here? The little elf hard at work.”
You turned, unfazed. “If I’m an elf, what does that make you? Grinch incarnate?”
Another boy snickered, but the first one stepped closer, a sneer twisting his features. “Decorating the common room like a silly Hufflepuff. Who even cares for this drivel other than you?”
Before you could retort, a voice cut through the air like a blade.
“I do.”
The temperature seemed to drop, though the fire continued to crackle. Tom stood in the corner, his book closed, his eyes dark and calculating as they swept over the group.
The boy faltered. “Oh, come on, Riddle, you can’t actually—”
Tom took a step forward, slow and deliberate. “Do you believe I’m in the habit of tolerating insolence?” His voice was quiet, but it carried the weight of an unspoken threat. “I suggest you leave before I find a reason to make your lives… unpleasant.”
The boys exchanged nervous glances, muttering under their breaths as they slunk out of the room.
Once they were gone, you exhaled and turned back to the tree, pretending the moment hadn’t affected you. “I had it under control, you know.”
“Clearly,” Tom said, crossing the room to stand beside you. “It was almost impressive how your wit compensated for your vulnerability.”
You glanced at him with a raised brow. “Vulnerability? Is that what you think? Don’t mistake me for someone who needs saving, Riddle.”
His lips twitched again, a ghost of amusement. “I wouldn’t dare. You’d likely bludgeon me with that wreath before I had the chance.”
“Exactly,” you replied, a smirk tugging at your lips. “Glad we understand each other.”
For a moment, silence settled between you, interrupted only by the crackling fire. Tom’s gaze drifted to the tree, his expression softening almost imperceptibly.
“You did well,” he admitted, his voice quieter. “It looks… decent.”
“Decent?” you teased, nudging his shoulder with yours. “High praise coming from the great Tom Riddle. I might faint from the shock.”
“You’re intolerable.”
“And yet, here you are,” you pointed out, stepping back to admire the room. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you actually like this.”
He didn’t respond, but his gaze lingered on you for a beat longer than necessary. There was something unspoken in his eyes—something that almost felt like warmth, despite his many layers of cold detachment.
“Merry Christmas, Tom,” you said softly, breaking the spell.
He inclined his head, his expression unreadable. “Merry Christmas… though I still fail to see the point.”
You laughed, the sound echoing in the festive room. “Oh, Tom. You’re hopeless.”
And maybe he was, but for a fleeting moment, as the glow of the Christmas lights reflected in his dark eyes, you thought he seemed just a little less so.
The two of you stood in the common room, the glow of the tree casting soft light on Tom's sharp features. You were tidying up the stray decorations while he lingered, his book long forgotten on the armchair.
“You know,” Tom began, his voice softer than usual, “you never told me why you didn’t go home for the holidays.”
You paused mid-step, your fingers brushing against a strand of tinsel. His tone lacked its usual edge—it wasn’t a demand but a genuine question.
Tilting your head, you offered a teasing smile. “What’s this, Riddle? Taking an interest in my personal life? Should I be flattered or concerned?”
He rolled his eyes, though the slight tension in his jaw betrayed something deeper. “I’m merely observing. Most students jump at the chance to leave, yet here you are, inflicting this… merriment upon us.”
“Well,” you said, turning back to the decorations, “I could ask the same of you. Why stay here when you could haunt your local library or terrorize your neighbors?”
His lips twitched, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t deflect, love.”
You sighed, leaning against the arm of the sofa. “I suppose I could’ve gone home. But it didn’t seem worth it this year.”
“Why not?” he pressed, his voice quieter now.
You hesitated, considering brushing him off with another joke, but there was something about the way he was looking at you—unreadable, yet oddly expectant.
“I guess…” you started, your voice softening. “I didn’t want to leave you alone on Christmas.”
Tom blinked, visibly thrown. “You… what?”
You smirked, trying to lighten the moment despite the faint blush creeping up your neck. “Oh, come on, Tom. Imagine how utterly miserable you’d be without someone here to annoy you. I’m practically doing a public service.”
His expression remained stoic, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of something—uncertainty, maybe even vulnerability. “That’s absurd. I don’t require company.”
You stepped closer, your smirk softening into something gentler. “You might not require it, but everyone deserves it. Even you.”
He looked away, the faintest pink dusting his pale cheeks. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re welcome,” you replied, grinning.
For a long moment, he didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the tree. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper. “You should’ve gone home.”
You tilted your head, studying him. “If I had, who would’ve kept you from turning this place into an even bigger dungeon?”
His lips twitched again, but this time, the amusement reached his eyes. “You overestimate your influence.”
“Do I?” you challenged, nudging him lightly.
He looked at you then, truly looked at you, his guarded mask slipping just enough to reveal something softer beneath. “Perhaps not.”
The warmth between you lingered, unspoken but undeniable, as the Christmas lights twinkled around you. For the first time, the cold, unyielding walls of the Slytherin common room felt like home.
#dividers by aquazero#pictures from pinterest#dividers by adornedwithlight#dividers by cafekitsune#ivy's soft scribbles ೀ#tom riddle fluff#tom riddle x reader#tom riddle#christmas fics ❆#tom marvolo riddle#soft!tom riddle#slytherin boys
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a letter from a sailor to her lover. || beidou x reader
On the open ocean, Beidou is left with her thoughts. Of course, she ends up thinking of you—and tonight, she chooses to write them down in a letter to you.
notes. been obsessed w sailor song by gigi perez ,,, ooo the sapphicism. also this is short as hell but i kinda like it, might make it a series or smtg for bei
cw. fluff
To my dear heart,
We’ve just made landfall in Snezhnaya. It’s a damn cold place—I always think I’ve gotten used to the cold every time I go back, but I keep eating my words. I guess the Tsaritsa’s love isn’t so warm, huh? It makes me miss those summer mornings where I’d wake up in your arms. A little sticky, a little sweaty, but warm. The sunrise never could outdo your smile.
I miss you. And it’s got me thinking about the ways to describe how I love you.
I know, I know. I’m no poet. I’m a pirate captain! But… a mutual friend of ours keeps sending me to fetch all these literature books, so I figured I’d flip through a few pages on the journey back. Might as well make use of the time, right? Indulge me, please, sweetheart, just this once.
I thought, first, that I love you the way the ocean loves the moon. You move me, coaxing me into rhythm. You are there, always—for my highs and for my lows, for when I’m strong and when I’m weak. But the moon shines so far in the sky, and I hold you too close to my heart to bear the distance.
I thought, next, that I might love you like an anchor loves a ship. You hold me steady on stormy nights, when the waves crash harsh and high. And I carry you with me wherever I go. But you are more than just an anchor.
So I thought instead, that perhaps I love you the way a navigator loves the north star. With faith and certainty in its presence, a guiding light in the darkest of nights. I know you will shine forever in my night sky, but I think I would miss you too much during the day.
So I’ve thought about it lot, but in the end, sweetheart, I think I’ll only know how to love you as myself. I’ll come and I’ll go but my love for you will always stay right there in your hands. I’ll love you like a sailor; and you’ll always be my safest harbor. Today, tomorrow, and all the tomorrows after that.
Yours entirely,
Beidou
PS. Please don’t tell our mutual friend i’ve been reading her books. She might fine me extra…
#sev.writes#beidou x reader#writing letters are kinda fun#theres something so romantic abt it#it feels kinda like looking like stars. when i read a letter im glimpsing a snippet of u in the past in the moment u wrote this#in the time of transit you might have changed. something knew might have happened#but right now all i have is this version of you i find in your words#like how dead stars still shine because of the time it takes light to travel#does that make sense ??? idk. im fever delirious
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Quite Hours | Fiyero Tigelaar x Male Reader
Fandom: Wicked
Genre: Fluff
Pairing: Fiyero Tigelaar x Male Reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 710
~ Requests are open ~ Taglist is open
Prompt: 56) "I will love you forever and when 'forever' ends, I'll love you some more."
The library of Shiz University was always a sanctuary of quiet in the evening. The oddly comforting scent of old books mingled with the soft sounds of pages turning, the occasional pencil scratching against paper, and the glow of ambient lighting that struck the perfect balance between too dim and too bright. Tonight, the atmosphere felt especially conducive to studying, as you were the only person in the library.
You had settled into a steady rhythm of taking notes, your pencil moving in a gentle murmur across the pages of your notebook as your eyes flicked back and forth between your textbook and notes. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the library doors swing open. You didn’t give it much thought, as the library wouldn’t close for hours, but you made a mental note that you were no longer alone. What you failed to process, however, was the striking navy blue and gold outfit of the person who had entered—a look you would have recognized instantly had you glanced up.
“There’s my devilishly handsome boyfriend,” came a familiar, playful voice. Everything clicked the moment Fiyero spoke, and his arms slid around your shoulders.
“Hi, sweetheart,” you greeted, punctuating your words with a kiss on his cheek before turning your attention back to your notebook.
“And what would a pretty boy like you be doing in a library all alone at this hour?” Fiyero teased as he gently turned your head to face him and placed a short but loving kiss on your lips.
“Just finishing some notes for class,” you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips despite your attempt to focus. “I should be done in a few minutes.”
“Mm, but what if I can’t wait that long?” Fiyero pressed a few soft kisses along your jaw and neck, his head coming to rest playfully on your shoulder.
“Fiyero, I really have to get this done,” you said, though part of you wanted nothing more than to abandon your work and follow him wherever he wished to take you. Still, you forced yourself to remain focused—for now. “How about this: you head to your room, get comfortable, and I’ll come over as soon as I’m done. Sound good?”
“Hm, do you promise?” Fiyero’s lightheartedly pleading expression made your heart flutter as he cupped your face with one hand. He knew you’d come; he just wanted to hear you say it.
“I swear.” You smiled, tucking back a stray lock of his golden blonde hair.
“Alright, my love.” With a final kiss on your lips, Fiyero reluctantly left the library.
The moment he was gone, you sighed and shook your head, chuckling softly to yourself. You could still feel the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. “That man has no idea how distracting he is,” you muttered under your breath, glancing at your notebook.
“Did you say something?” a voice suddenly chimed in. Fiyero had popped his head back through the doorway, a cheeky grin on his face.
“Fiyero, go!” you exclaimed, laughing.
“Alright, alright, I’m going!” he called out, disappearing again with a dramatic wave of his hand.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you finally finished your work for the night, you made good on your promise after a quick stop at your room to change. Almost as soon as you knocked on Fiyero’s door, he opened it and swept you into his arms, lifting you briefly off the floor.
“Did you miss me?” you teased, your tone laced with playful sarcasm.
Fiyero responded by wrapping his arms around your waist and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. “Oh, very much so,” he murmured, his words accompanied by a small smile before he kissed you again.
The rest of the night was a perfect blend of joy and tenderness. Fiyero’s endless humor kept you laughing, and his steady stream of sweet nothings made your heart melt as you lay against his chest. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your bicep, his voice low and comforting.
“I will love you forever, darling. And when ‘forever’ ends, I will love you even more,” he whispered, his words sending warmth through your entire being as he kissed the crown of your head.
A perfect way to end the night.
~ End ~
#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom#wicked#fiyero tigelaar#fiyero tigelaar x reader#fiyero tigelaar x male reader#x reader#x male reader#wicked fiyero#fluff
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More of You- Chapter 1
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
WC: 1.6k
Rating: 18+ for eventual smut, MDNI
Series Masterlist | Blog Masterlist Next Chapter
Summary: After a devastating betrayal and loss, you left everything behind on the East Coast and promised yourself a fresh start in Austin, Texas. Independence as your new mantra, you vow never to let anyone too close again. Then you meet Joel Miller- a man whose warmth and Southern charm makes it hard to stick to your resolve. As your feelings deepen, you’re forced to confront your past- and question if letting someone in again is worth the risk.
A/N: No outbreak!AU. Coffee shop meet-cute with a slow-ish burn. Sickly sweet fluff with eventual smut. I wanted to write something that gave me the warm fuzzies, and I am kicking my feet and giggling while I write this. Joel Miller just deserves a good life, you know? Joel and reader have a teeny tiny age gap- Joel is 42, reader is mid 30s. Sarah is 19. No use of Y/N, minimal descriptions of reader. She has hair long enough to tie back and she wears skirts and dresses.
I didn’t really proof read this, we’re just going with the vibes. I made myself swear I would post something before Christmas.
Enjoy!
The coffee shop on the corner of Sixth and West, Harrison’s, was nothing fancy. It was a solution to the problem of your productivity, or lack thereof, over the last few weeks. What had initially been a stop-gap that you’d put in place to get out of a rut had become routine, the place you chose to begin each morning, rain or shine. The only place you could ever consider yourself a ‘regular’.
It wasn’t the trendiest, but it served good coffee, nice cakes, and had beautiful big windows that allowed you to watch the world pass by over the top of your laptop screen. It was a welcome addition to your new life in Austin, a life you’d rebuilt piece by piece. Moving here had been a leap of faith, a desperate bid to put as much distance between you and what had happened. You didn’t talk about it, hell, you hardly even allowed yourself to think about it, never letting the grief brush against the edges of your carefully crafted new world.
Austin was meant to be a fresh start. A city big enough to disappear in, but warm enough to allow you to sit close to the fringes of society and feel human again. To gain sense of belonging by osmosis. You’d thrown yourself in to the change head first- new apartment, new routines, new job, new goals. Taking one day at a time, the weight of the past feeling less and less heavy with each new dawn. You’d been here for six months now, and were finally starting to feel settled.
This morning, you had claimed your usual spot in Harrison’s- by the window - and set about trying to get your emails under control. The soft murmurs of early-morning conversation filled the room, blending with the steady hiss of the espresso machine and the occasional clinking of cups. It was the perfect atmosphere- relaxed, comfortable and conducive to helping you focus. You were typing away when a clatter of crockery made you glance up over the rim of your cup as you took a sip of coffee. It was then that you caught sight of him- a man seated a few tables away, bathed in the soft glow of late summer sunlight streaming in through the windows. You took a breath and placed your coffee cup back down, eyes flicking quickly between him and your screen in a way that was anything but subtle.
His broad shoulders filled out the green flannel shirt he wore, the fabric stretched just enough to hint at the strength underneath. The sleeves rolled up to reveal firm forearms, leaning casually against the table while he was engrossed in the book resting between his large hands, his fingers his fingers absently toying with the edge of a page. The sunlight caught the specks of grey peppered through his dark, tousled hair and short beard in a way that felt almost deliberate, like nature itself had conspired to pick him out of the crowd and highlight him to you.
As if he sensed eyes on him, he glanced up. The moment his dark eyes met yours, your stomach flipped and you froze. For a brief second, it felt like the world slowed down. Then, almost imperceptibly, he smiled at you. A small, lopsided curve of his lips, confident, maybe a little arrogant, that sent a heat creeping up your spine. Your lips quirked up before you could stop them.
The heat reached the back of your neck and you quickly looked back down at your laptop. You tried to ignore the thrumming excitement making your fingers tingle, and stared hard at the screen and pretended to be engrossed in your work.
You could feel the weight of his presence now that you’d noticed him even without looking. It wasn’t that he was doing anything- just sitting quietly, reading a book and drinking coffee, but you felt like the air in the room had just shifted, like you were trying to take a breath through a sudden gust of wind that had hit you square in the face. You looked around, but everything else in the coffee shop was how it had been before; no one else even spared you a glance. You took another sip of coffee and hoped that it looked casual.
Your fingers hovered above the keyboard, though the words you’d been writing just moments before had evaporated from your mind, and you urged your eyes to stay fixed on your screen, but the temptation was too great and you stole another quick glance over the rim of your coffee cup. Your pulse skittered when he leaned back slightly in his chair, moving through the sun beam that was on him, causing it to accentuate the contours of his face.
His profile was striking- the strong line of his jaw was softened by the neat scruff that framed his face, an aquiline nose that led down to full lips set in a tiny pout as he read. The soft sunlight highlighted the creases at the corners of his eyes, and the lines of his furrowed brow that had settled there with age. They weren’t harsh; from what you could make out each one seemed earnest, a testament to a life lived fully. There was something deeply endearing about them.
Your gaze darted away again before he could catch you staring, heat pulsing over the back of your neck and up to your cheeks. Focus, you scolded yourself. You had work to do. Deadlines to meet.
You found yourself curious to know what he was reading, what kind of coffee he drank, what his voice sounded like. You considered the possibility of introducing yourself to him- approaching his table and flashing him a smile as you asked about his book. The thought filled you with equal parts giddiness and horror.
You adjusted in your chair, the movement causing the legs to scrape along the floor, and glanced over at him again despite yourself. This time, he had been looking at you, his head tilted slightly like he was aware of your attention but wasn’t sure what to make of it. His lips twitched in to another small smile and your stomach did a somersault.
The sound of the barista calling out an order snapped you back to reality. You blinked, glancing back down at the dregs in your coffee cup and sighed as you considered the half-finished email on your screen. By the time you looked up again, the handsome stranger had pulled on his jacket and was getting ready to leave. You watched with interest as he checked his watch for the time instead of his phone. When he stood, he adjusted the fit of his leather jacket, shrugging it across his broad shoulders before he returned his coffee cup to the counter. He patted his jacket pockets checking for his keys and wallet and made his way to the door, hesitating for a second, as if he’d forgotten something, before disappearing out on to the street.
You exhaled slowly. You’d been holding your breath without meaning to while watching him. You chastised yourself silently. Stop it. Stop being ridiculous.
You glanced toward the door, half-hoping that he might have truly forgotten something, but it remained firmly shut, the activity of the coffee shop continuing uninterrupted. You squared your shoulders and refocused on the work in front of you.
Your work as a newly freelance graphic designer had its perks: flexible hours, creative freedom, and the ability to work from anywhere. But it also meant self- discipline, something you’d struggled with lately. Once you hit send on the email, you opened your project dashboard; a local bakery had hired you to revamp their branding. You’d sketched a few ideas the day before, and it was time to digitise them.
You spent the next few hours, and the next four cups of coffee, on the draft of the logo and by lunchtime, the shop had shifted from its relaxed morning hum to a more distracting bustle. You gathered your things and decided to take a walk before heading home.
The leaves on the trees lining the sidewalks were still green, stubbornly clinging to summer despite the calendars insistence on autumn. You took your time strolling through the streets, reminded of the easy charm that had drawn you to Austin in the first place. You decided to do some quick errands and took a long detour back to your apartment, choosing to wander and browse the window displays of independent shops you passed along the way. You stopped in a sunbeam streaming through a gap in the buildings opposite you and were reminded of the handsome stranger in the coffee shop.
The memory of the warmth in his eyes as he smiled at you sent a little shiver down your spine. You allowed yourself to consider him for a moment, standing there with the sun on your face. You knew there was no harm in it. You’d promised yourself- sworn up and down, really- that you would focus on yourself. No distractions, no romantic entanglements, no chance of getting hurt again. After everything that happened, you couldn’t afford to let your heart lead you in to another minefield. Thinking about the handsome stranger was silly, you told yourself as you turned the corner toward home, the sun casting long shadows across the sidewalk. You made a point not to think about him as you hurried through the front door of your building, and as you stepped in to your apartment and set your bag down, you tried to dampen the tiny stab of disappointment that you might never see him again.
#Joel Miller#Joel Miller fanfic#Joel Miller x f!reader#Joel Miller x fem!reader#fluff#fanfic fluff#TLOU#TLOU No Outbreak!Au#No Outbreak au#The Last of Us#TLOU HBO#soft!joel miller
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Hiiii Spotty 💕💕💕
I have a few more!
🎅+ blizzard
-❤️🪐
Ok.. in an effort to save you all from endless words today and get all my word prompts done by this merry Christmas Eve. I decided a little challenge was in order. So Saturn my lovely creative pal I’ve combined all the words you sent that I haven’t used into one fic that comes in around 800 words. Let’s see what you think.
The wind is remarkably loud, rattling the window frames of the cabin in a mildly alarming fashion. The gentle flurries of snow from this morning have turned into something much more intense. At least the fire is going strong and at least there’s blankets. The warmth of the one round his shoulder is comforting but he’s still a little cold. What he wouldn’t do for a hot cocoa or some cookies.
A shiver he can’t control catches Eddie’s attention.
“You still cold?”
He nods, “a bit. I’m fine though. Eddie’s eyes are still on him so he feels the need to keep talking. “I checked the weather before we lost the internet, they say it’s officially a blizzard now, should last a few hours.”
Eddie nods and looks away again. A few hours isn’t that bad. The radio is still working at least, it’s playing some kind of old time big band music that always makes him think about those black and white war movies and make his toes tap.
Maybe one day him and Eddie will be able to dance together. Buck thinks he’s like that. The thought comes out of nowhere but that’s been happening more often recently. He’s been thinking he’d like to do a lot of things with Eddie recently.
He’s not going to be doing any of those though. Instead he's reading the only book he was able to find on the shelf, it’s a kids picture book of ‘‘twas the night before Christmas’. Maddie used to read one like it to him when he was little. Buck wonders if Eddie ever read it to Chris or if he’ll get the chance to read it to his own child one day.
That thought makes him lift his eyes from the page to look at Eddie again. He’s also wrapped up in a blanket but nearer the fire, busy doing a crossword from a puzzle book, another left behind item in the cabin they rented for the weekend. The light from the fire is just enough to let him see and scribble down words. He’d refused to wear the pair of mittens they’d found in a drawer earlier to keep his hands warm and Buck can’t actually blame him; they did look a little crusty.
Suddenly Eddie looks up and when he finds Buck already looking at him it just makes him smile and Buck finds he doesn’t really mind having been caught staring.
Eddie’s mouth opens and Buck has a moment of insane hope then Eddie says.
“Six down - ‘inspiring or influencing people’ ten letters, second and third letters U- M”
Closing his riveting read Buck considers the clue, moving his way through the alphabet when he hits L he’s rather ironically illuminated.
“Luminaries”
Eddie’s eyebrows lift alongside a little pout and impressed nod. From his chair Buck has the sudden image of kissing that pout. The image flushes his cheeks but fortunately Eddie’s gone back to his puzzle book so he doesn’t notice.
He shivers again.
Eddie does notice that.
“You’re cold! Come closer to the fire.” Eddie moves to throw on another log. “You know it might be a good idea to sleep out here.”
“Together?” He gulps at the idea of curling up by a fire with Eddie.
“Yeah… need to keep warm don’t we.”
Blinking in the firelight Buck isn’t at all sure how he feels about that idea.
Eddie looks at him and there’s something in his eyes, a glimmer of hope maybe that gives Buck a drop of confidence.
“I think that’s a good idea. We could move the mattress from my room get some blankets. Kinda like a pillow fort but without the pillows.”
Eddie's face lights up. “Yeah, it sounds cozy.”
Clambering to his feet Eddie holds out a hand that Buck takes with a racing heart.
“Let’s get ready for bed then.”
It doesn’t take too long and the activity does keep them warm. Soon there’s a cozy looking camp by the fire and Eddie’s kicking off his shoes and climbing into the like of blankets.
“Come on you’ll get cold again.”
Nodding he copies Eddie and shucks off his shoes and clambers into the makeshift bed. It’s snug, they’re both quite large after all. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind the closeness so Buck thinks it’s ok to enjoy the warmth and intimacy.
“Warmer now”
He nods and makes a joke that changes his life.
“Well my nose is still cold but I can live with that.”
Eddie frowns, “a friend once told me you’re only as warm as your coldest part”
Buck laughs, he knows who told Eddie that. It was him on a star gazing trip.
“Sounds like a smart friend”
Eddie smiles. “He is, in fact he’s everything to me and I don’t think he should have a cold nose.”
Then Eddie kisses the tip of his nose.
“Anything else cold?”
Eddie’s eyes glow in the firelight. He looks nervous and hopeful and Buck can’t believe his luck. Finding Eddie’s hand under the blankets he squeezes it.
“My lips are pretty chilly.”
Eddie smiles, the twinkle in his eye declaring his love as he moves closer.
“Let’s see what we can do about that then.”
So illuminated by firelight, in the middle of a blizzard, wrapped in blankets and love Buck gets kissed by the man he loves and he’s pretty confident he’ll never ever be cold again.
#spottys christmas stocking#buddie#eddie diaz#evan buckley#911 abc#buddie fic#911 fic#911fic#the last one
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i know who you pretend i am; part one
pairing: gavi x ofc
summary: catalan author aroa ferrer is about to be translated into spanish. to promote her book, her publisher has the worst idea possible: a pr relationship with a heartthrob footballer.
masterlist // series masterlist // i do not take requests
"Uhm, where is the bathroom?" Asked Gavi. His hands were sweating and he wanted to fix his hair before the meeting. He was nervous, more than he was when he had play in front of millions of people.
This was different. This made him vulnerable.
"That corridor to the left has the gender neutral bathrooms," explained the woman at the reception counter. Gavi thanked her quietly and walked toward the corridor she had pointed to.
The bathroom was empty, except for a girl in the farthest sink away, who was covering her face with her hands and quietly sniffling.
"I'm sorry," he stumbled, taking a step back. Maybe he could come back later.
"No, it's okay." The girl didn't look at him, scurrying pass him, almost running away from the place. It left Gavi with a bitter taste in his mouth. What had that girl so upset?
He didn't think too much about it, though. He had his own things to worry about.
💙❤️
Iván put a hand on his shoulder when they were finally called up.
The offer had reached Gavi as a passing comment. Iván had heard that Roses Editorial was searching for a guy to be in a PR relationship with one of their more successful writers. The agent was offering the opportunity to his other clients, who were footballers of a smaller caliber than Gavi, when media attention was concerned.
Gavi would have usually not even considered an arrangement like that. His dating life was his business and his business only, but after a rough break up he needed to do something drastic.
"Hombre, I didn't think you'd be interested," admitted Iván. "You never want to do stuff like this..."
Gavi had shrugged.
"Just let me look a bit into this before I fully accept," asked Gavi. "Do you have the girl's name?"
"Aroa Ferrer," said Iván. "There are no pictures of her on the Internet, but you can check her book if you want."
Gavi frowned. He wondered if Iván noticed it was a bit strange that agirl with no public photos on the Internet was ready to go on a PR stunt like this, but he said nothing.
Gavi had bought the book, which was in Catalan, and actually read it. Going though the pages was quite different than completing his high school assignments. In school, he had loathed the language. Teachers were strict, the grammatical and orthographic rules made no sense, and he was in a clear disadvantage against his native speaking classmates. But Aroa's book was entertaining, the plot, the characters. It made him forget he was actually reading in a second language.
Aroa's second book was in Spanish. It had been published a few days earlier and was flying off the shelves in all the bookstores of the country. The publishing house wanted to take advantage of the rush, and use the publicity of a PR stunt to drive people's eyes towards the first book's Spanish translation.
Gavi walked to the office awkwardly. By the desk, Ferrer's agent and Roses' marketing manager were waiting for them. On the other side of the room, by the corner, arms crossed and jaw set, was the girl from the bathroom.
It took Gavi less than a second to figure out he had walked into a war zone, and that the room was divided. Iván, who either didn't notice, or ignored it, walked to the men in suits by the desk.
The men seemed to be delighted to see him. Gavi was sure that when they started asking around for an interested party, they never thought they could bag someone of Gavi's prophile. He could see the Euro signs in their eyes.
Gavi looked back at Aroa. Her jaw was set and he gaze was averted. Having the freedom to map out her face, Gavi was stunned with how pretty she was. Short brown hair curled to down to her chin, pink lips, curled in a pissed off expression, green eyes guarded and harsh.
She looked like she wanted to kill everyone in the room.
"Hi," he greeted shyly, when he caught her gaze. She replied with a short head gesture.
"C'mon, c'mon, sit, sit, Gavi." The men there were adamant in having him be as comfortable as possible. They really wanted to sway his will towards whatever they wanted to do. "Meet Aroa, she will be your partner in this operation. Excuse her behavior, she's not done throwing her tantrum yet."
Aroa clenched her jaw.
She definitely looked too pissed off for it be "just a tantrum". Suddenly, Gavi didn't think this was the best idea. Something about the men and the way they talked about their author, the fact that she was clearly distressed and nobady seemed to care.
"Aroa, sit next to him, I want to see you two together," demanded the agent. She obeyed, walking briskly and dropping next to him on the couch. Gavi could feel the tension in her muscles.
"Are you okay?" He asked, worriedly. It took Aroa a few seconds to figure out he was talking to her.
"Could be worse," she said, her face softening a little. Her eyes were prettier up close, he noticed.
"Alright, so, the idea is to have you two appear to be a couple in public, so that Aroa's book sells in the rest of Spain," said the agent.
"We also wanted something from this relationship," announced Iván.
"Of course." Both men seemed to find that completely reasonable. "What do you need?"
"Gavi broke up with his girlfriend a month ago. She's still posting indirect statements that reflect badly on him. Once the break up is announced, we would benefit of Aroa speaking kindly of him, at least a couple of times," explained Iván. Gavi flinched. The issues with Alicia had been many, specially after the break up. When she started posting, he and Iván had agreed to ignore the situation completely, but now that Gavi had been open to this scheme, it was logical that his agent wanted to take advantage of it.
Aroa rised her eyebrow, tension returning to her body.
"You're not like, abusive, right?" She asked bluntly. "I won't go against a victim just to clean you image.”
"I can promise you it's nothing like that," reassured Iván. "Alicia is just a little bit immature."
Gavi shook his head. That argument was doing nothing to quench Aroa's doubts.
"We fought during the break up," he explained. "Alicia wanted us to spend more time together, but I ignored her, sometimes even on purpose, to focus on football. If anything, all her complaints about me are about how I'm too immature and childish for a woman like her. That sort of thing."
Aroa seemed to find his explanation more plausible.
"If I learn that you did something bad to her..."
"I promise you I didn't," insisted Gavi. She finally nodded.
"Well, the relationship should be announced slowly, we don't want to overwhelm the public," continued the manager. Gavi had not caught his name, and he realised he did not want to.
"Yes, maybe Aroa should go to a couple of games, and you should be seen with the book somewhere..." agreed the agent, looking at Gavi.
"But how are we going to tie her face to her name? There are no pictures of you available on the Internet," interrupted Gavi.
"That's because my face should not be necessary to sell a fucking book," replied Aroa. Gavi tensed. During the whole time, Aroa had seemed tense, pissed off. But he now was starting so see the reason.
"Well, you refused to do tik toks, so this is your next option, young lady," reminded her the manager. Something churned on Gavi's stomach.
"My target audience is not on booktok," she complained.
"It will be if we say so," insisted the manager. "You wrote a roamce book, you can't be picky about your public."
"Wait, you don't want to be doing this?" Asked Gavi, fully tuning his body to watch her. By the corner of the eye, he saw Iván's expression souring.
"No. Not really. I want my books to sell because they are good, not because I'm some dude's girlfriend." Aroa explained. Gavi recognised the glint of ambition and pride on her eyes. He had the same feeling surrounding his career. He was liked and valued because he was a good footballer, not because he was pretty.
"Then why are you here?" Asked Iván, concerned.
"I don't have a choice."
"Her contact stipulates that marketing decisions lay on the Editoral. We were already kind enough to listen to her when she rejected booktok, we won't do that again," explained the manager. Gavi felt like throttling him.
"Well, Gavi and I need to reconsider the offer..." Iván stood up, and gestured Gavi to do the same. "This information changes a lot of things for us..."
Gavi spared one last worried glance to Aroa before slipping out of the room, following Iván.
"That was..."
"Defiently unethical," finished Iván. "I can't believe they think they have the right..."
Aroa rushed through the corridors catching them before they reached the elevators. She grabbed Gavi by the arm, desperation obvious on her eyes.
"Wait, please." There were tears streaming down her pink cheeks. "I... please. Stay. They will carry on with this plan with or without you, and I... I would rather have to do it with you, knowing that you care, and are kind, that to do it with whoever new they find, someone that agrees with their thinking." She explained.
Gavi did not doubt on wrapping jus arms around her, pressing her to his chest. Aroa buried her face on his shoulder, her tears wetting the fabric of his shirt.
"Alright," Gavi looked at Iván over her shoulder. His face was troubled, but Gavi could see that he agreed with him. They would take the offer, even if it was just to protect Aroa Ferrer.
💙❤️
"I'm so sorry for getting you into this mess," said Aroa when she let Gavi in on her apartment. She had kicked out Inés, her best friend, so they could talk peacefully.
"It's okay, though. I kind of want to do it, you know?" Gavi put his hands on his pockets. Now that she's allowing herself to look at him, Aroa could admit that he was pretty handsome. "I'd rather help you, that see you in a fake relationship with some scumbag in a few months and wonder if you're okay every day."
"Still. You shouldn't be worrying about it."
Gavi shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. Aroa couldn't fathom how he found the whole ordeal so... irrelevant, to the course of his life, but he was not putting his ambition at risk so that was that.
She led him to her kitchen, were she had prepared two bowls of simple tomato pasta.
"I wasn't sure what you could or could not eat..." she explained. "So I played it safe."
"Smells so good," he complimented. "I love pasta, specially before a match."
Aroa smiled, pleased.
💙❤️
"So this thing... we can have it be quiet, right?" Asked Gavi, helping Aroa do the dishes.
"I'm not sure they want it to be quiet..." she told him. Edgar and Toni were like dogs with a bone, and Gavi was a very succulent bone.
"But I can demand that it is." He replied, confidently. "They need it to be me, no one is going to give them any more clout than I do," Aroa flinched. "I have power here."
"Alright," she said. "What do you have in mind?"
"Like Iván said, you come to a few of my matches, we get someone to spot you. I carry your books around a couple of times. Then we get caught kissing somewhere, maybe a restaurant or a park, something romantic. A couple of insta stories on the same place at the same time and done. We stop following each other on social media, don't interact in public and everyone will figure out we've broken up. Easy."
"Easy." Aroa repeated, finishing drying a dish.
"Yeah, easy." Gavi seemed proud of his plan."
"There is only one problem," she said. "I've never kissed anyone."
"Oh."
It was obvious Gavi did not expect that.
"Never?" He croaked. Aroa shook her head, a little bit embarrassed. She was about to turn twenty one, and no one had ever deemed her pretty enough for a kiss. "You didn't want to or..."
It was cute that Gavi thought she had chosen that. Aroa shrugged.
"Just never happened for me."
There was a heavy silence, in which Aroa avoided eye contact, turning her face away from Gavi, until she felt his hands gently cupping her cheeks.
"I could... we could kiss now," he offered. "So your first kiss isn't everywhere on the Internet. And so we know what to do when the moment comes or in an emergency."
Aroa took a shaky breath, lifting her gaze to look at him. Gavi's big eyes were dark, his lips parted as he studied her face. He wanted to do it, she realised, startled. Whether it was a stupid bout of desire or wanting to be kind she was not sure.
But she nodded, accepting the offer.
His lips met hers softly at first. Small kisses to help her figure out what was going on. But as Aroa grew in confidence, her arms lifting to grip his shoulders, her lips moving against his, the kiss deepened. Gavi gripped her waist, their hips colliding as he squished her against the sink. Aroa rised a hand to the back of his head as his tongue went inside her mouth.
"I thought it was supposed to be fake?" Inés' voice startled them into separating.
"We're just rehearsing," came out of Aroa's mouth, as she touched her tingling lips with the tip of her fingers. Kissing was nice, she decided.
Inés snorted leaving her purse by the couch.
"Sure, at least he's the hot one," she commented, before disappearing into her room. Gavi blushed, to Aroa's delight.
💙❤️
Gavi went back home excitedly. His lips were still tingling from the kiss, his heart still beating hard from all the adrenaline. They were doing this. They were so fucking doing this.
But there was one thing he needed to do first. He found his family gathered in the living room, but they tackled the issue before he could open his mouth.
"Since when do you read?" Asked Aurora. She was holding Aroa's book. "And since when do you speak Catalan?"
"I wouldn't have a high school diploma if I didn't speak Catalan," he replied taking his coat off. His cheeks are already pink. "I've lived here for almost a decade, I'm not that stupid."
"But reading a romance book?" Insisted Aurora.
"Stop annoying your brother," reprimanded their mother. "God knows I've tried to get him to read for years..."
His dad, though, had a knowing smile on his face.
"Where were you, boy?"
"I, eh... that is what u wanted to talk about with all of you. I was... eh, I was on a date." He blurted.
Aurora's mouth dropped.
"So soon after Alicia?"
"Yeah. I know it seems precipitated, but I have a great feeling about this..."
"Gavi, dear, it's better if you wait a little. At least as a curtesy. Alicia deserves better..."
"Well, for as long as Alicia doesn't hear..." decided Aurora. "We can pretend like they started dating six months after the break up or something..."
"She's coming to my game next week." Said Gavi, squashing their planning. "And I asked her to wear my jersey." He had not actually, but he was sure it would be the easiest way to link her to him, if she was spotted alone in the stands with the rest of the families.
"That's a bit soon. It took you quite a while to go public with Alicia..."
"I'm sure of what I'm doing," replied Gavi, squaring his shoulders. "I like Aroa a lot. I want her—"
"We don't even know this girl," protested his mother. "How do you know that she isn't after your fame?"
'Because I caught her having a panic attack at the thought of using me for my fame,' he thought, but said nothing.
"Why is it so hard to trust my judgement?" He asked. He felt like he was setting Aroa up to be hated by his family, once they broke of the arrangement.
"If you feel lonely, I'm sure Alicia..."
"I don't want Alicia, Aurora," he snapped. "I want Aroa." As he spoke, Gavi realised he was saying the truth. "I really want to try this with her. She's sweet and smart and accomplished. She wrote that fucking book!" He pointed at the book that was still in Aurora's hands. "And I liked it! And I hate reading, and I struggle with Catalan! That is how good she is."
"We're gonna have to meet this girl," spoke his father then. "Before the match. Ask her when she can come for dinner."
Shit.
💙❤️
"You didn't tell your parents it was a PR deal?" Said Aroa and Iván almost at the same time.
Gavi covered his face with his hands.
"They've been worried about the break up with Alicia. They liked her a lot, always asked if we are going to get back together. Aurora actually still meets with her, I'm sure." He explained. "I thought that maybe... I could use this to make them forget about my thing with Alicia, I don't know."
Iván sighed. He was used to Gavi's impulsive decision making, but Aroa was looking at him totally puzzled.
"Alright," she said. "I'm free every night next week."
"You're actually accepting?"
"You're making me a huge favour, not letting me do this with some random reggetón singer. How bad can a family dinner be?"
"If my sister suspects you're after my money, it can be quite awful," he warned.
"Then let's think of it as warm up, for when this thing hits the news."
At that moment, Gavi could have kissed her.
"Okay, you two need to fix that stuff alone," decided Iván standing up from the kitchen table of Aroa's apartment, taking the folder with him. After a second meeting with her publishers, the three of them had gone to her house to discuss the details form their more ethical point of view. "I'll give this to my friends. They will call you by the end of the week," he told Aroa.
Iván had offered to send the manuscript of her third book to some agents he knew, who specialised on publishing. They also had good ties with foreign publishing houses, and could get her translated to other languages apart from Spanish or Catalan, like English, French or German.
💙❤️
"Do they really hate me?" Asked Aroa once they reached his home. She was squeezing a box of homemade cookies against her chest, nerves finally kicking in.
"They... liked Alicia a lot. And they distrust any girl that attempts anything with me. So this is more like an exam..."
"Great." Gavi almost snorted at her ironic remark. She had come out of her shell slowly, but it was fun to banter with her now.
Inside, they were greeted by his father first. He looked soft, like a teddy bear. He took the cookies from Aroa with a smile on his face, as he led them to the kitchen, as if this wasn't Gavi's house too.
There, they found his mother, who was a little bit more cautious around Aroa. She still smiled and was very polite, but Aroa could tell she was being watched.
Aurora would clearly he the hardest one to win over. She smiled curtly, but kept the interactions at the minimum. Aroa took a step closer to Gavi instinctively. He put his hand on her hip as he talked to his dad, something about the cookies being 100% acceptable by Barça's nutritionist standards.
"You made them?"
"Yeah!" His mother nodded appreciatively. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard.
💙❤️
"They definitively hate me," whispered Aroa once they were alone in his room. She picked her pyjamas from the bag she had prepared to spend the night.
"Okay, it could have gone better," admitted Gavi, sitting in bed.
Even if his father seemed to welcome her, his mother and Aurora were not as inclined. They were still untrusting, and Aroa had spent enough time studying human behaviour to know they were comparing her to Alicia the whole time.
"I don't think it's worth it to try to make them like me," she told him. "I'll be gone in a month an a half anyway." Aroa went to the bathroom to change her white stamped t-shirt and blue jeans—that Gavi had helped her pick, for the pyjamas shirt and shorts. "You could tell them they were right about me and call it day," she offered when she exited.
"I don't like that, though," he shook his head. "I don't want them to think badly of you. You're wonderful, I wish they could see it. And what do you mean you will be gone, we can still be friends, no?"
"I thought you would want me gone," she admitted, sitting in bed next to him. Gavi shook his head. "Not at all. I want to be friends with you, I want to able to laugh about it in a few years."
Aroa rested her head on his shoulder, in silence. Gavi had to keep himself from dragging her to his lap and crushing her in a hug.
💙❤️
Aroa watched herself in the mirror. The show started today. She would go to the match, wearing the black jersey with Gavi's name on her back, and do the part.
"You'll slay this, I promise," encouraged Inés with a tight hug before she left.
At the stadium, Iván greeted her and sat with her to watch the match. She was grateful for his presence, it was a friendly face in the sea of unknown people.
"I presume the dinner with his family did not go well," muttered Iván.
"No," admitted Aroa. "Did he tell you?"
Iván shook his head and pointed to a few rows in front of them. Gavi's sister had arrived, and with her a pretty girl with beautiful clothes and beautiful hair.
"Why would Aurora bring Alicia if she approves of you?"
"Shit."
"Shit indeed. I told that boy he should have told his family the truth."
💙❤️
Gavi noticed immediately, and cursed under his breath. Shit was going to hit the fan faster than he thought. As they warmed up, he searched for a reason to rush to the stands.
"I need to talk to Iván for a sec," he told his teammates, who looked at him puzzled. Gavi rushed up the stairs, ignoring his sister trying to get his attention, and making it to Iván and Aroa in record time.
"We have some drama here," warned him Iván. Gavi ignored him too.
"How are you doing?" He asked Aroa, who shrugged a little bit. She looked terrified. "I'm going to go off script right now," he warned. lifting his hands to cup her cheeks. He felt them heat under his fingers, as Aroa realised what he was planning.
The kiss was longer than it should have been. Gavi wanted to make sure one of those fans who recorded everything got the clip, wanted everyone to see.
Gavi wanted everyone to know he was Aroa's so badly, he forgot he actually wasn't.
💙❤️
"Anything you want to say about this?"
Of course his teammates would get a hold of the video sooner than the day was over. Gavi was changing into his jeans when Lamine slid on the bench next to him, holding his phone with the viral tik tok.
"That's my girlfriend," he said. "Her name is Aroa Ferrer, she's a—"
"The writer?" interrupted Cubarsí. "No way you're dating her, hermano. She's too cool for you, way out of your league."
"Oh, yeah?" Snarked Gavi, watching how Cuba asked Lamine to show him the video again.
"I only saw her face for the first time last week, when the new book dropped and she included an author photo. Finally!"
Cuba being an Aroa fan boy wasn't on Gavi's plan, but it made him proud.
"But is she hot?" Asked someone else, trying to see the video too. Gavi put on his shirt, amidst patting on his shoulders, hair ruffles and congratulatory comments.
The smile on his face was genuine.
💙❤️
"I'm sorry about what my sister did."
Gavi held her hand. His eyebrows were furrowed, his lips pouted. He truly cared about her well-being. Aroa smiled.
"It's okay. At least my publishers are loving the drama," he snorted, but she could tell he noticed the saddened tone on her voice. "I'm sorry I'm making things hard with your family..."
"No you're not. Alicia is, trying to get us to get back together." Gavi stopped in front of his car. "You might have helped me cut this once and for all."
Aroa squeezed his hand, and he lifted hers to his lips, kissing it gently.
"Also, my teammates want to meet you too."
Aroa rolled her eyes.
"You didn't tell them this was fake either?"
"Pau is your fan boy. I would look like a loser if I hadn't actually seduced you!"
Aroa snorted, and suddenly they were laughing loudly, putting their weight on each other, until some other families started to trickle by and look at them funny.
💙❤️
It was quiet at home. Gavi was dozzing off with his head on Aroa's shoulder as she typed her soul away. Her fourth book was halfway done, this time in Catalan. At the other side of the couch, his mother was reading a magazine, and his father was doing a puzzle in the coffee table.
Aurora made it home then. She left her keys and took her coat in silence, watching the new couple warily.
"You didn't need to do that," she told her brother. Gavi woke up fully.
"Actually, I did. You didn't need to do that."
"Alicia's feelings are hurt."
"She hurt them herself," he stated, curling further onto Aroa's shoulder, who had not noticed Aurora's presence due to her headphones.
"You're hell bent on her, huh?"
"Yes, actually."
Aurora rolled her eyes and went to her room.
💙❤️
"Are you sure you do not want to come?" Gavia sked again. He did not expect Aroa to say yes, she was admant to keep their public interactions to a minimum.
"No, have fun," she smiled softly, looking up from her laptop. That book was writing itself fast.
Gavi had a boy's night out, and even if some of the guys brought their girlfriends, Aroa had argued that she would be a girlfriend for too little to actually go there. He has wanted to argue, but there was no point.
Gavi bent to drop a short peck on her lips, before leaving, whistling some old fashioned song.
"You're not... going to ask him to text you every twenty minutes?" Asled Aurora, from her side of the couch. Even if the relationship was tense, Gavi insisted they should act like nothing happened.
"Why would I do that?" frowned Aroa.
"To make sure he doesn't cheat?"
"If I have to put that much effort to make sure he doesn't cheat, why would a I date him?" Questioned Aroa. "Seems stupid."
His father snorted.
"She's got a point," he said, smiling. He was the one that seemed to accept Aroa the fastest.
Aurora shrugged.
"Alicia did not like it when he went out without her."
"And they broke up," reminded her Aroa. "So it was useless in the end, all that work."
Aroa wasn't sure why she was pushing so hard. Her idea was to be as quiet as possible, bother the family as little as she could. But she also wanted to defend herself a little. Aurora nodded.
"I guess you've got a point, nena," she said.
💙❤️
An hour and a half later, Gavi came back with some sweets he had picked at the 24h bakery, just to find his sister and his fake girlfriend cuddling and laughing over the stupid movie on the TV.
His chest fluttered.
💙❤️
"Iván's friends picked up my book. They will publish me without stupid marketing deals," she announced one day Gavi went to her apartment straight from training.
"That's great!" Gavi picked Aroa up and spun her around.
"And they told me they didn't mind that I wanted to use a pseudonym, so no one would link my new books to you and this PR deal," she finished once her feet touched the ground.
Gavi knew what that meant for her.
"So whats left with your old publisher?" He asked.
"Once we break up, we're done." She said. "They just need to forward the royalties from the sales and that's it."
Gavi nodded quietly, catching his lower lip between his teeth.
"There is something I wanted to ask," he said then, changing his weight from one foot to the other. "What would happen if we never broke up?"
"Huh?"
"If instead of breaking up, we kept dating. Could your publishers say anything?"
"I don't think so, we never stipulated in paper..."
"Then let's stay dating." He blurted.
"What?"
"Be my girlfriend. My real girlfriend. Please." Gavi's hands cupped her neck. "I've thought about this too often since this started. Please—"
Aroa rised to her tip toes, and shut him up with a kiss. The first kiss that had nothing to do with the arrangement, and everything to do with them. The first of many.
#gavi#gavi x reader#pablo gavi#gavi x oc#pablo gavi x reader#pablo gavi x oc#luna's i know who you pretend i am series
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It's wild because I have exactly one episode of Vampire Diaries left and I've been saving it since *checks blog* a little over a week ago (versus the six episodes a night I was watching back in season 1) and I keep telling myself I have to watch the ending if only so I know what I'm working with in fic but also I do want to see the return of Elena (and Katherine) but also I don't want to see Stefan die (or Damon and Elena in a flashforward apparently? How will they have time for all this, honestly?) but I do want to see how they manage to break the curse with Bonnie still alive (but maybe it wouldn't be so bad to write my fic without knowing) but I don't know. I'm notorious for not watching the last few episodes of shows I love (White Collar, Psych, Once Upon a Time, although that last I ragequit over many minor grievances with multiple seasons left so it's not really the same thing) but I keep telling myself that if you don't watch the end of a thing then you just have less of the thing that you love but like I turned the TV on to watch it just now and I'm actually so nervous? I both do and don't want to watch it so intensely, so I had to open up tumblr and blog about it. I could save it another week but I want to watch it before the intensity of my obsession starts to fade but I know this is going to hurt me, emotionally and profoundly. Maybe I can stretch it out to two episodes by stopping in the middle or something idk. But aaaaaaaaa I don't know I'm not ready but I feel like I have to watch it. Help me I don't know. I need some of you internet people to come over and watch this with me or something lol I don't know. I'm so nervous I'm not prepared but I don't want to put this off forever either. And once it's done I could start rewatching. But like, aaaaaaaaa!!
#the vampire diaries#stream of consciousness rambling#finale thoughts#TVD 8x16#I was feeling epic#genuinely how in the heck are they going to resolve all this#it's like when there's too few pages left in a book#and obviously I know many spoilers#I almost feel like I should wait until I actually *want* to watch it more but like I *need* to watch it you know?#does this count as liveblogging ?#tvd series finale#looking forward to delena endgame and Bonnie getting to see Elena alive again but honestly not looking forward to much else#oh Katherine too. but I fear it shan't end well for her#I'm like heartbroken already from what little I know#help me I'm not ready#unedited rambling#i ramble#even in the tags i ramble#everyone please metaphysically hold my hand as I go through this. lol
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JAILBIRD
Ghost becomes pen pals with an inmate before deciding that he wants to adopt his little jailbird.
Word count: 4.1k
Tw: inmate reader, reader is kept as vauge as possible but is implied to be younger than Ghost, violence, stalking, ghost is a perv, p in v, oral (f! Receiving), creampie, spanking (once), orgasm denial if you squint, unprotected sex, NOT edited we die like men.
Edited to Add: Part Two is posted :)
Notes: Baby’s first fanfic, please be gentle. Let me know if I missed any trigger warnings or if you want to see more! I have an idea for a second part but I don’t know if anyone wants it, right now it’s tucked away safely in my drafts. Enjoy! :)
P.S. I’m thinking about making an ao3 account and publishing an edited version of this on there. I’ll link it if I do! I’ve already spent too much time procrastinating finals but christmas break is around the corner so who knows.
The letter came with the top serrated, already opened, as all your letters came. You mostly ignored them. There were a couple of programs that allowed people to become pen pals with prisoners but you’d been there long enough to know what they often contained.
Many of the women milked poor losers on the outside. Money given and sent. Promises of butterfly kisses and blowjobs whispered over the phone. Exchanges. Some were even able to sweet talk their honeys into giving bribes. Money passed into hands of guards, currency that was then exchanged for cigarettes, which were much more valuable on the inside than the bills used on the outside.
You don’t know why you read this letter. It certainly wasn’t the penmanship, a scrawled handwriting that lay between cursive and print. Maybe it was the blue pen, you’d recognize a Bic anywhere, or maybe it was the fact that it smelled a bit like top-shelf liquor.
It was rather blunt. But not in an obscene way. Simple and straight to the point as if constrained by an unknown word count. It wasn’t memorable, but what else was there to do? Pace your cell back and forth and wait for zoochosis to settle further in your bones. Close your eyes and remember what freedom tasted like before it dissolved in your mouth.
The pen they gave you was cheap, the paper even cheaper, but you were used to making things work. Your reply was shorter than his, than Simon’s, but it got the job done. If he wanted to write back he would. If he didn’t, well, the new prison guard was starting to get rather handsy with you. The time will pass no matter what.
___
His replies came in strange patterns. Some weeks you’d get eight in a week, other times you wouldn’t hear from him for a few months. It took a year for the first phone call of which lasted less than a minute and consisted mostly of him grunting on the other end and a schlick sound you pretended not to notice. It was his fourth phone call that he finally said a few words in a voice so low it made the phone buzz against your ear, tickling like a lover's breath. Eventually, you had some semblance of conversations, even if they were interrupted by a recorded voice warning you of the time you had left.
He told you he was a soldier and at first, you planned on cutting the whole penpal idea off. Even before you got arrested you hated bootlickers more than anything. But Simon grew on you, and your friends all suggested you get in his good graces to see if he could pull some strings. You would’ve felt guilty if he was anything other than glorified government property. Both of you were.
The first thing he gave you was a book, The Yellow Wallpaper, which was thicker than you remembered from the time you read it in school. It was only when you cracked open the spine did you find a pack of cigarettes inside, the pages carved out so your real present could be placed inside. You couldn’t help the smile that split your lips as you pressed one between your lips, not noticing the tiny S carved into it.
You thank him for the gift by whispering his name into the phone. A mantra, a prayer, it didn’t matter as long as you kept your voice breathy. He promises to get you more and you learn not to refuse him. At one point, you notice that little robotic voice doesn’t time you anymore. The guard who couldn’t keep his hands to himself was replaced with a woman, hair pulled back into a military-style bun. And you got an extra cookie with your meals.
It took a year for him to visit. You knew it was coming eventually, men are only fine with their imagination for so long before they crave something tangible. Hell, even you were curious about the man who wanted to sink his teeth into you. It almost felt like getting ready for a date. Butterflies dropped like lead in your stomach as you tried to tidy your appearance as much as you could. You smelled, but there wasn’t much you could do about that. The whole damn prison smelled like a county fair bathroom. The lack of air conditioning in the heat of summer just added a sweet BO tinge.
The first thing you noticed about Simon was his size. You had never met a man as big as he was. The next was the thick scar tissue that marred his face. Though, even without the scars you would be hesitant to ever call him handsome.
Intimidating.
That was what came to mind staring at the thick cords of muscle that covered his arms and the broadness of his shoulders wasn’t just genetics. And he just stared at you. You glanced at the phone that connected to his on the other side of the glass and back at him but decided against it.
You offered him a small smile and an awkward wave. It unnerved you. The focus and attention pinned you in place. Normally you kinned yourself to a tiger you saw at a zoo when you were a child. One that paced back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. A habit you understood all too well. But sitting in front of your pen pal you realized you were rather off.
Simon was the tiger and you were the bird that caught his attention.
It took far too long for the guard to come and collect you. For once you were grateful to retreat back to your cell, so much so that in your retreat you failed to notice the nod your warden gave Simon.
___
After that Simon met with you in person as often as was allowed. He never said anything and neither did you. Eventually, the novelty of him wore off. Humans were rather adaptable creatures, and you could only be scared of the man for so long before your body adjusted to him. Despite your silence, Simon didn’t appear displeased with you. In fact, it was almost the opposite of it. More gifts arrived.
A pillow, high-end shampoo, a toothbrush (that you had a strange suspicion was used before being given to you), nail polish, and more cigarettes. Some of the women were jealous of the attention given to you, others tried to get with you to share your bounty. Somehow you dodged most of the conflict. But you can only run so long while trapped with so many women.
When you showed up to your meeting sporting a bruised cheek and split lip the air quickly changed. Before you thought Simon looked like a predator.
You were wrong.
Fear coursed through your veins and you recognized the look in his eyes. Every woman in the damn place knows what a hunger for violence looked like. Slowly he reached out an arm, the sleeve of his hoodie riding up slightly showing off tattoos, before grabbing the phone and pressing it to his ear. With a shaking hand, you did the same.
“Bird.” His voice was somehow deeper in real life than over the phone.
“You should see the other guy.”
His lips twitched.
There was something uncanny about his eyes. They weren’t brown, they were black. Obsidian. You realized that before, the first time you met him, he wasn’t trying to scare you. Though, you were pretty sure it wasn’t directed at you.
“Just a little spat is all Simon. Everything sorted itself out.”
All over a bottle of nail polish. Tempers run short in prison. You spend most of your days in a cell, and what little free time you get surrounded by the same insufferable bitches, it’s a mystery there isn’t more violence. For the most part, things were settled with words. The more physical an inmate gets the more time spent in your cell. There were some weeks where you spent twenty-three hours a day in that little room.
Simon let out a sigh as if dealing with you was the most insufferable part of his day.
“Did ye’ get medical attention a’ least?”
You nodded your head.
He gave a grunt.
That seemed to be his preferred method of communication with you. Caveman grunts and growls, the occasional moan over the phone he couldn’t hold back. You figured it had something to do with his job. He was quite tight-lipped about it, but you gathered he has co-workers (his squad? Platoon? What was the proper lingo?). Despite this, you were under the impression he spent the majority of his time alone. He always seemed more primal after those month-long stints of silence.
You always wondered how you would feel if he never contacted you again. Went out and didn’t come back. Would you assume he was dead? That he moved on to prettier things that aren’t locked away? Would it make a difference to you?
No. It wouldn’t.
Even now you got letters upon letters from other men. Though none were as giving as Simon was.
It was back to silence and staring contests that you were used to. The both of you slipping into a familiarity. He never put the phone back. Even when your warden came and escorted you back. You didn’t glance back at him.
Tucked away in your cell you didn’t get to watch Simon slowly rise out of his seat, chair creaking from the shifting of his weight. You didn’t see Simon lurk in the back as the inmates met with their loved ones on the out. Didn’t see him take notice of a particular girls with nails painted the same shade as his gift to you. The same shade as the tip of his cock.
___
The girl was transferred. For a singular moment, you thought Simon had something to do with it. Then laughed at the idea. Simon may be in the military, but you highly doubted he had anything to do with the bitch who got transferred. At least you got your nail polish back. It was a strange shade, and the idea of a man as big as Simon standing in an isle trying to pick out a shade made you chuckle, it was the thought that counted.
Time marched on. Penpals came and went but Simon stayed the consistent part in your life.
Eventually, the possibility of parole was on the horizon.
Freedom.
So close you could practically taste it.
Unfortunately, that meant a laundry list of to-do items. Court hearings, lawyers bankrolled by Simon, arranging for transportation and housing. Simon handled most of it. By now, the lingering guilt of using your soldier fiance had long left you. He seemed like the kind of man who needed to learn lessons the hard way, and entering a relationship with a felon was a lesson most didn’t need to learn. Still, he had been putting in quite a hard amount of work. He deserved a treat.
And after years of forced celibacy, you needed it bad.
The two of you would enjoy each other for a week or two. Simon would realize he made a mistake moving you in. He would kick you out. You’d pawn the ring he’d give you and use the money as a cushion as you landed, getting back on your feet. The two of you would go your separate ways and never see each other again.
Being in prison taught you a lot of things. Despite everything, patience wasn’t one of those lessons. The day you were gaining your freedom passed was the slowest part of your life. The checking, double checking, retrieving your stuff, checking again, until finally,
Finally,
You were outside. You were outside in something other than a uniform that stunk of sweat, there were no handcuffs. Anxiety crept everywhere. You wanted to get as far away from the prison as you could, if you breathed wrong a warden would drag you back. A pair of arms snatched you.
You looked up and couldn’t help but laugh, pressing your lips against his scarred ones.
“Fucking Christ your tall.”
He chuckled against your lips before taking them again, hands digging near painfully into your ass. The two of you somehow managed to walk back to his car peeling off one another before Simon peeled away, hand clutching the fat of your thighs as he drove.
“Never pictured you as a reckless driver.” You giggled.
The adrenaline and giddiness of being free hadn’t worn off yet. If anything it seemed to slowly be morphing into a different beast entirely. You pressed your lips against his bicep causing him to groan. You glanced up at him, watching as his jaw clenched weaving in and out of traffic in a way that was certainly not legal. You would’ve been worried about being pulled over if he wasn’t driving a military vehicle. They answered to a different police, or so he told you.
Eventually, he pulled into the yard of a house with an honest-to-God white picket fence. You smiled as you got out, curiosity creeping in about what his house was like. Simon opened the door for you, which would probably should’ve made you swoon at his gentleman-like behavior, but truthfully it was how he hauled you out of the card and dragged you inside that got your heart racing.
Impatient.
The door barely closed before his body was pressed against yours and his lips were pressed against your jugular. One of his rough hands slipped up your shirt, grunting when he found a clear path to your tits instead of meeting the edge of a bra. The other dipped into the waistband of your pants, running over your clothed cunt, no doubt feeling the wet spot against your underwear. Your hands slid over his arms, squeezing at the muscle, before slowly sliding them up and up, going to the back of his neck, a hand threading through his short hair the other cupping his face to kiss yours.
A large thumb found your clit, only the thin cotton stopped him from rubbing directly against it. He pressed down hard on it, causing your breath to catch in your throat, his thumb moving down your slit. The seam of your mouth parted in a moan and he used that to stick his tongue down your throat.
The kiss was obscenely wet, beastly as his spit passed from his mouth into yours. Before prison, you would’ve pulled away with a grimace. Too much tongue, too much teeth, too much. But your whole body was on fire, years of pent-up orgasms made you desperate for it all. For someone to press against you, to be inside you.
Simon was oh-so-convenient.
You tried to pull away, lungs burning enough to convince you that air was in fact a need, but the door stopped you. Pressed between it and Simon you had no escape. You whimpered against his mouth, again and again until he finally got the hint and pulled away, a string of spit connecting your mouths as if it too was reluctant to pull away from you.
“Bedroom?” You panted, though if he took you here against the door you would die happy.
Simon threw you over his shoulder and took his stairs two at a time before tossing you on his bed making you laugh. The caveman and his prize. Simon took the moment of being away from you to pull at the collar of his shirt. You watched in appreciation as it lifted higher and higher until it was discarded on his carpet.
His body was marred in scar tissue, muscle, and a layer of fat that made for a solid fine specimen of the male species. His pants were discarded next, and either he pulled his underwear down with them or he just wasn’t wearing any to begin with. You didn’t have much time to ponder that thought distracted by his hard cock.
Jesus Christ.
Big was an understatement, monster was the word that popped into your mind. It crossed the territory between delicious into scary. Large and thicker than you thought possible. You swallowed and for a second hoped he would forget about the blowjob you promised him after he gave you a pillow.
“Yer’ wearin’ too many clothes Birdie.”
Quickly, though not as quickly as Simon was, you wiggled out of your pants, shrugged off your shirt throwing it in the same pile as his clothes. He stepped closer to you, one large hand grabbing your ankle before retching you towards him.
He leaned down, mouthing at your bare tits, slobbering over them. The soft press of his tongue flicked over your nipple before he moved to the other and grazed his teeth over it. His hands were everywhere. He was everywhere. Impossibly big and pressed against you everywhere. Until all your senses were filled with him. As if Simon was the only thing that mattered in the world.
The artificial sun in your glass cage.
His mouth moved lower, nipping at your skin before he moved between your legs. He settled his body in between them, the calloused palm of his hands pressing your legs further and further apart until the stretch burned in the muscles where your legs met your pelvis. Quickly the pain faded into the background as he pressed a kiss against your bare clit, before taking it in his mouth and sucking. You felt the rough pad of his fingertips press against your hole rubbing against it but never quite dipping inside. Again and again, he moved it against you but never in you.
It was maddening.
You tilted your pelvis against his mouth, trying to coax his fingers into your welcoming body. He growled against your clit, removing his mouth causing you to whine. A sharp sting met your ass cheek and you yelped.
He spanked you.
“Behave.”
You never took the man to be hungry for anything other than missionary, but it seemed he had learned a few tricks over the years. He did have a few on you, you were sure of it. Your thoughts leaked out of your ears as he moved back up, slotting his hips in between your legs. Liquid lust ran through your veins at the sight of him rubbing his dick against your mound, a mess of your slick and his pre dragging along your pussy and up to your belly button. Your poor hole clenching around nothing at the image of how deep he was about to be in you.
You took a deep breath, mesmerized as he pressed the tip against your entrance, catching it before pressing himself inside. He went slowly, and you couldn’t help the moan that left you as he finally began to sink home. Throwing your head back you closed your eyes as he stretched your body out.
You weren’t a virgin before you were locked away, but years of celibacy made you feel born again. Hell, with the size Simon was even if you had fucked him before he would’ve made you feel virginal with the way he was splitting you open.
When you opened them again you caught his gaze, he stared at you watching your expression pinch as he gave small thrusts, working the last of him inside you. When his balls pressed against your ass you let out a shaky breath. You had passed your limit two inches ago but somehow Simon had managed to coax your sweet pussy to take the last of him inside. The pain of him had taken you away from the edge of an orgasm he was working you towards, but when his hand found your clit again you knew you weren’t going to last long.
If his shaky breaths were anything to go by Simon wasn’t going to last long either.
He kissed you again, this time it was softer. Sweeter. Made your stomach turn in a moment of guilt. It was replaced when he drew out of you, slowly letting you feel inch after inch leave your body, before slamming back in.
He moved again against you. And again. Building up a punishing rhythm. You couldn’t help the small ah ah ah’s that left your lips as he rutted in you. Your hips pushed against his, working with him as you both chased your highs.
His hand never left your clit, as if glued to it working in tight fast circles. His other hand traveled along your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Squeezing at your tits so hard you thought it might bruise, running up your bare skin, constantly moving and feeling. As if he couldn’t believe that you were real. That you were out of your cage and underneath him panting his name in his ear instead of against the end of a phone.
Your own hands wandered. Moving over his arms, God’s gift to you, his chest. But mostly they moved down his back, feeling his muscles move and contract under your hands. Before you left you would convince him to put a mirror over his bed, so you could watch his shoulders shift and move as he thrust inside you.
It was too much. The feel of Simon, the stimulation on your clit, the thick cock pistoning like a machine inside you, pressure built and built inside you. Your nails dug into his back, dragging down as he pushed you off that ledge.
Simon’s thrusts stuttered as he felt your walls fluttering around him, suckling at his cock, coaxing him. He came with a groan soon after you, painting your walls with thick globs of his cum.
You panted as he rested against you, letting his cock soften inside you as you ran your nails over the nape of his neck and caressed his short hair. It was oddly soft, comforting to run your hands over.
Simon began to untangle himself from you, slowly as if reluctant to part from your embrace. He moved to what you now realize was the on-suite connected to his bedroom. You could feel his cum start to drip out of your cunt and down your asshole, shifting at the uncomfortable feeling. You couldn’t find the energy yet to move, not even sure if your legs could support you right now. Simon came back to you, wash-cloth in hand, and began wiping up the mess he made.
“We’ll have to get a Plan B tomorrow.” You murmured as he crawled back into bed next to you.
Simon didn’t say anything, but he had always been a quiet man. He maneuvered the both of you until you rested under the covers, your hand running along his bare chest. Tracing his happy trail before moving back up, not ready to go again.
The adrenaline from before had worn off, leaving you suddenly exhausted. Sated and free you dozed off against him.
When you woke up again it was darker outside. Not yet the full black of night but rather the soft blue that came after the sun had only just dipped out of sight. Simon wasn’t in bed next to you. You rolled over with a sigh, sitting up and smoothing your hair. Thirsty you threw the covers off your body and padded across out of his room entering into a small hallway. There was a door directly across his room and with a shrug, you went into it.
It wasn’t snooping if you lived here now too. Even if you were only going to stay for a little bit.
The handle turned easily but the room was darker than you expected, no windows to let in any natural light. Your hands patted at the wall until you found the edge of a light switch, with a click the room was bathed in a soft glow.
Your breath hitched.
The room was bare except for a small desk and chair, the walls were covered in photos. Photos of you. Old photos, from before your prison stint. Mugshots. But what made your skin crawl were photos of you in your cell. You sprawled out on your uncomfortable cot. You sitting cross-legged across from your cellmate. Images of you in the cafeteria. Images of you in the yard.
You took a step back, then another, and another.
You flicked the light back off and slowly closed the door. You took a shuddering breath and yelped when you felt a chest pressed against yours.
Simon’s hands dug into your hips, pulling you tight against him.
“You look like you’ve seen a Ghost, Birdie.”
Poor little bird, trading one cage for another.
___
Part Two
#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon x reader#ghost x you#ghost#simon ghost riley#reader is delulu in this
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Dolly II
~ part 2 of the Dolly series
pairing: seungmin x afab!reader
genre: smut, college au
synopsis: your friends found it funny to buy you a sex doll and pose it in your bed to prank you.
wc: 7.7k
warnings: alcohol, thigh riding, handjob, cum tasting, unprotected sex, hand kink, nipple play, creampie, mentions of crying, choking, edging, spanking, hair pulling, pussy slap, oral(m), fingering
a/n: thank you @jehhskz for helping with the premise of this one🥹💕
~ maybe you'd like: Hyunjin dolly
~ divider by @bunnysrph
Another sleepless night.
Staring at your laptop screen, the letters start blurring and bleeding into one another, making the headache behind your eyes throb even more.
Exam after exam, you're becoming more jaded, feeling like you're high out of your mind when it's just lack of sleep.
As you scroll through a page you're researching for your paper, an advert pops out.
"Sex dolls?" you chuckle and click on it, even if it looks a bit shady.
You're taken to a stylish site, black background with big neon green letters asking you "What's your vibe for today?", and you scoff.
"Try dead inside." you say out loud and the letters flicker before disappearing, new text appearing on the screen, making you gasp.
"Feeling sarcastic, are we?" - it says and you shriek, quickly exiting the site and deleting the history.
How the fuck did it hear you?
Did they hack your laptop?
You hoped not, because being a broke student means you have no resources to buy a new one.
With a groan, you continue doing your assignments well into the late hours, forgetting completely about the sex dolls and the freaky website.
You fall asleep, excited about the party you were invited to this weekend, to finally have some way to blow off steam and relax.
-
The room is totally spinning.
You are totally spinning.
You can hear your friends laugh on your left but your tiredness coupled with the alcohol you had in your system made you feel drowsy.
You're not sure but it seems that your friends are pointing at you and whispering, giggles leaving their lips and you frown.
They're known for pulling pranks on you, and you'd hoped they would at least leave you be when you're intoxicated and vunerable.
"What?" you almost bark at them.
"Nothing." one of them says with a snicker.
"Ugh. I'm leaving." you stand up quickly, which was a mistake as all the blood rushes through your system and the room starts spinning faster.
Your friend and roommate Edie, is quick to grab you before you face plant into the coffee table.
"I'm coming with ya. Don't want you to break your bones somewhere on the way home." she shakes her head and you nod, bidding goodbye to your other friends and letting her lead you out.
The walk to your shared apartment is short, the house of the guy who hosted the party wasn't too far away from your building or the campus.
The chilly evening air helps you refresh your mind and sober up a little.
"Are you gonna eat dinner?" Edie asks when you step into the apartment.
"No, I think I'm just gonna go shower and sleep." you say and she nods.
Before you left the kitchen, you swore you could see her smirk a little.
Shrugging, you make your way to your room.
Edie stops what she was doing, setting the plate down as she listens.
One, two, three...
And you scream, followed by a few thuds and curses.
"What the fuck?!" you grab the nearest book but the man on your bed doesn't even move or blink.
Edie giggles behind you, before it bubbles up and becomes full on laughter.
"What is this?" you demand, already annoyed at her.
"That is Seungmin, your sex doll."
"My what?" you almost choke on your spit.
"We were gonna scare you and prank you with him but we thought he would also be a good early birthday present. Since you know, you only ever study and stay at the apartment. This way, you can have him as a companion." she explains, and you lower the book you were gonna hit her with.
"Please, don't be mad at us." she grimaces.
"Why does he look alive?" you look back at the doll, gulping as shivers run up your spine.
"I don't know, it's some new technology, I guess. Isn't it so cool though? There was a letter in the box he came in with. I put it there on the nightstand, together with the manual." Edie informs you.
"Y'all are crazy and he's creepy. But, thank you? It must've been expensive." you shake your head.
"Well, the six of us got some money together."
"Still, crazy." you chuckle and she laughs.
"I'll leave you to it." she wiggles her eyebrows, closing the door of your room as she makes her way back to the kitchen.
You bite on your lip, observing the doll as it stares off into space.
"You're too creepy and you're not watching me change." you mumble and grab your blanket, throwing it over the dolls head.
"There." you say and strip, loving the perk of this apartment as both you and Edie had your own bathroom attached to your room.
You go about your night routine, now almost completely sober as you make your way back to your room.
You almost forgot about the doll, your heart dropping in your stomach for a moment.
"Fuck." you chuckle at yourself, your hand on your chest.
Cautiously, you sit next to the doll and remove the blanket.
He looks the same as he did before, as your friends presumably set him up, propping him up on your pillows, his legs straight and his hands in his lap.
He was dressed kind of sporty but chic, with a plain white shirt, a blue jersey jacket and ripped jeans, a dainty silver necklace adorning his neck.
Simple, yet effective, the doll looked more handsome the more you looked at it.
His hair looked fluffy, his eyes seemed warm, his lips soft.
You especially liked his hands, delicate and tender.
He looked sweet, if he was a real human being you're 100% sure everyone would swoon for him on the campus and he'd probably be the it boy.
You wondered how he looked so real, it almost seemed as if he was going to wake up any second and start talking to you.
You sigh and grab the letter, opening it up.
Hello,
my name is Seungmin and I am your mischiveous doll.
I love making you laugh and teasing you, because nothing makes me as happy as seeing your smile or your cute face when you're annoyed.
Please, play with me a lot as I tend to get bored, and no matter what you do with me, always end it with a kiss on my forehead.
Hope you come to love me as much as I already love you.
"Oh, you're a little prankster doll, aren't you? How funny of my friends." you sigh with a smirk playing on your face.
"I swear if you fucking move, you're flying out the window." you threaten, convinced you could see a faint smirk on the doll's face.
A paper sticking out of his jersey pocket grabs your attention and you take it out.
My cutie!
I got dressed for our first date!
Hopefully you like the outfit I chose, and enjoy playing with me tonight.
"First date? Who the heck made this?" you're perplexed, when suddenly you remember the ad from the other day.
"Oh my god." you jump up quickly, running to your laptop and searching.
You don't have to search too long as the site pops up immediately and you click on it.
"Wow!" you gasp as you look at the selection of the dolls.
You had no idea each one was a unique model, and that only one of them was made for some kind of experiment with new technology.
You turn to look back at Seungmin and chuckle.
"Okay, I gotta give it to my friends. They did give me a unique gift." you sigh.
Reading back over the site, there isn't much information and as you research a little bit, you can't find out much about the company that made the dolls.
It was as if it appeared out of thin air with technology so advanced that it had you confused, who could've made this and how?
Maybe even more important, why?
After turning up with nothing, you decide to check out the manual.
WARNING!
If there are any malfunctions with any part of the doll, please contact our services.
The doll can bathe in water except the charger opening.
Please do not disfigure or mutilate the doll.
Do not throw the doll into the trash.
Do not break, cut or bruise the doll.
If you're not satisfied, you can always return it to us and get your money back.
If you've purchased our Seungmin doll, do not forget to play with him as he can get lonely and sad.
Hope you enjoy the playful soul you chose!
"Lonely and sad, huh?" you stare at the doll with pursed lips.
Turning a few pages, the doll's 'abilites' come into view and you feel your ears burning in embarassment before you close the book quickly, tossing it aside.
"My friends are a bunch of perverts." you chuckle, laying down next to the doll.
"You better keep your hands to yourself, doll." you slide under your blanket, all the tiredness from tonight finally catching up with you.
Seungmin sits quietly as you turn off the light.
Waking up the next morning with a yawn, you stretch and your hand smacks into something solid.
Gasping, you lift up and see the doll sitting quietly just like he did last night.
"I forgot about you." you exhale before plopping back down in your pillows.
Curiously, your eyes travel over the doll's frame.
It's dead quiet in the apartment, meaning that Edie probably already left for her classes and you sit up, turning your attention to Seungmin.
Tentatively, you reach out your hand and poke the doll's cheek.
"Oh, wow!" you exclaim, poking him again. "You feel real."
Slowly, your fingertips caress his cheek, before you start carding them through his hair.
"Honestly though, my friends do know my type. If you were a real guy, I would stare at you from the distance and wait for you to ask me out." you chuckle a little before shaking your head as you retract your hand.
"I'm talking to myself." you get up and decide to get ready for your classes, leaving the doll be.
You feel like you're being watched the whole time as you rush through your room to gather your things, and an uncomfortable shiver runs up your spine, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand.
"Alright. You're creeping me out again." you throw the blanket over the doll like you did yesterday, and then you get ready.
"Behave. I think." you tilt your head and then exhale with a chuckle as you leave your bedroom, leaving Seungmin alone under the blanket.
-
It's past 5pm when you finally step foot back into your apartment.
You call out to Edie but it seems she wasn't home.
Shrugging, you enter your bedroom to find Seungmin still covered up with the blanket.
"Damn. Okay, you didn't come to life." you toss your bag down and make your way to the doll.
"I left you alone for a long time, didn't I?" you say as you remove the blanket and lean in closer to take a look at Seungmin's face.
For some reason, you think he might be frowning.
"Hey, I have real life things to do. Don't frown at me like that."
The doll is quiet.
"You want me to play with you? What does that even entail? Are we playing or are we playing? Because I'm not doing any of that weird shit." you wave your finger at the unmoving doll, realizing you're probably crazy for even talking to it.
"I'll think of something after dinner." you mutter to yourself.
After a much needed shower, you make your way to the kitchen to eat some dinner.
As you're eating, you suddenly hear what sounds like a giggle.
It feels like your heart stops beating for a moment as you sit up straight and listen.
It's quiet, except the music playing from your phone.
Maybe it was just in your mind.
Yeah, probably.
Edie arrives home shortly after, giving you a shit eating grin.
"So, did you try out the doll?" she wiggles her eyebrows at you.
"No. I don't know, it feels weird... and wrong." you grimace and your friend laughs.
"If you don't want him, let me give it a go." she winks and you laugh.
"Seungmin is my gift, okay? Don't touch him." you wave your finger and she snickers.
"Feeling territorial, are we?"
"N-no!" you blush instantly.
"Don't worry, y/n. I won't touch your little boyfriend."
"He's not my boyfriend! He's not even alive!" you yell after her as she giggles all the way to her room.
You sigh and make your way to your room too.
"Alright. I don't know what you mean by playing but I'm too tired to do anything. Maybe a movie?" you talk to the doll.
As you get no answer, you decide to just get ready for bed and grab your laptop.
You make yourself comfy under the blanket, your eyes turning to look at Seungmin.
"Ah. I'm probably crazy but I do need a few cuddles." you shrug as you sit up, your laptop on the side.
Pursing your lips, you slowly take off his jacket and put it aside.
"Oh wow." you gasp as you notice the little hairs on his arms, moles here and there, as if it's real skin.
You touch his arm, it's smooth and soft... comforting, even.
Your hand runs down to his and you grab it, your fingers entwined with his.
For some reason, you crave touch even more now so you adjust him to lay down and make him comfy on the pillows before you grab your laptop and put it on his stomach.
You lean your head on his chest, putting his arm around you as you search for a movie.
"If anyone sees me like this, I would die of embarassment." you sigh as you press play on a random movie.
Even though Seungmin's skin feels real, and he feels somewhat warm, it's quiet when your ear presses against his chest, there is no heartbeat to lull you to sleep.
It weirds you out but at the same time it's comforting to have someone next to you.
Oh no.
Your favorite shirt is gone.
You rummage through your whole wardrobe, knowing it's surely where you left it last time.
Edie probably took it, you think and stomp your way to her room after you close the wardrobe with a thud.
You miss the little smirk on Seungmin's face and the way his eyes followed you to the door before stilling again.
"Edie! Where is my favorite shirt? The red one with the yellow sun? I told you to ask if you wanna borrow stuff!"
"What? I never took that shirt. It's ugly anyways."
"Girl, don't call my favorite shirt ugly." you whine while she giggles.
"Sorry, I don't wanna hurt the shirt's feelings." she puts her arms up in fake surrender and you roll your eyes at her.
Coming back to your room, you're stopped in your tracks as you notice the shirt thrown over Seungmin's thighs.
You stand and stare at him quietly, your mind trying to process this because you know for a fact that it wasn't there before.
Slowly making your way to him, you narrow your eyes as you snatch your shirt away from him.
"Is this how you wanna play? Seungmin, the mischievous doll?" you raise your eyebrow.
He seems to be smiling slightly at your sarcastic tone.
"We'll talk about this later." you threaten and run to your bathroom to get ready for classes.
It was only the beginning.
A few weeks have passed since your friends got you Seungmin, and by now you kind of got used to him.
You couldn't really fall asleep unless you were hugging him and every morning when you opened your eyes you would give him a soft kiss to his forehead, just what the letter asked.
You were convinced that there was more to Seungmin though, as your things would disappear or be moved around, only to reappear later, making you frustrated at his playful antics.
Edie was bugging you constantly about using the doll for its actual purposes and one stressful weekend of studying before exam season was all you needed to snap and find a way to let out your frustrations.
Exhaling loudly, you turned to look at Seungmin, your fingers tangled in your hair and pulling in frustration.
It must be 3am by now, you think and decide to get up and take a hot shower.
Luckily, Edie was away, visiting her boyfriend so you had the apartment all to yourself and could make as much noise as you wanted to.
In your tired daze, coupled with the hot water on your skin, you felt a familiar throb in your core.
Your fingers danced on your skin, going lower until you stopped and gasped.
Seungmin.
Maybe it was time to try the doll's abilities.
After you finish rinsing off, you wrapped a towel around yourself and made your way to your room.
Seungmin is propped on your bed in his shirt and boxers, you stripped him a few days before, wanting to be more comfortable when you hold him, the stiff jeans fabric annoying you while you sleep.
"Well. It's just us, I guess." you say as you stand in front of him.
"Fuck it." you let the towel slide down to the floor, your eyes following it and not noticing the spark lighting up in Seungmin's gaze.
"Well, it's not fair that you're dressed." you pout and make your way to your doll, stripping his shirt first and biting your lip as your eyes roam all over his chest and stomach.
You slide his boxers off next, his semi-hard cock popping out and you gasp, did he get hard just from you being naked? If so, how?
Completely flabbergasted, you stared at him.
He never looked more real than in this moment and you felt your arousal gather on your pussy and coat your inner thighs.
"I must be ovulating." you chuckle at yourself and straddle the doll's thigh.
His muscles were firm under your wet pussy and you whined, slowly fucking yourself against Seungmin's thigh.
His cock seemed to react strongly to this, growing, the tip becoming red and angry and your eyes flutter as you practically drool at the sight of his length.
You wrap your hand around him and whimper when you feel his heaviness in your hand, and the warmth radiating off of him, how he twitches against you, beads of pre-cum appearing at his tip.
You don't even want to analyze and think how they made him this real, in this moment all you want is to play with him and find some relief for yourself.
You squeeze his cock a little before giving him a few languid strokes.
"Ah, fuck!" you moan, riding his thigh, your wet pussy leaving trails of arousal on his skin.
You lean in closer and press your lips to his neck, kissing his skin and inhaling his scent that mixed with yours from so many days of just cuddling him.
Seungmin's fingers twitch next to him but you don't notice as your lips dance on his skin, kissing him, your tongue darting out to taste him, your teeth grazing against his nipples.
This seems to make his cock even harder and you smirk, your hand playing with his nipple as you jerk him off faster, still riding his thigh and bringing yourself closer to your release.
You read the manual before, and you know his nipples are sensitive, the more you play with them, the closer he gets to cumming.
You decide to be evil and bring the doll to the edge, before retracting your hands and giggling as you grind on his thigh faster.
"Ah, Seungmin!" you moan out as you bounce on him, and his eyes fall down to your tits bouncing in his face, but again you don't notice since your head is thrown back in full ecstasy as you cum all over his thigh.
"Mm. So good." you whine, needing more, so you throw your leg over him, grabbing his cock and sliding down on his length in one go.
"Ah, you're so big baby." you coo at Seungmin and start bouncing on him, his cock filling you up deliciously and hitting every spot inside you perfectly.
"You like my tits, hm?" you notice that they're right in front of him so you grab his head and smush his face into your chest as you continue fucking on him.
You lean back to look at his face and you swear there's something in his eyes as you hold his cheeks in your palms and slow your hips.
"You're enjoying, aren't you?" you whisper and lean in to kiss the doll, his lips moving with yours as if he's kissing you back and you almost get lost in him.
Gently taking his hands in yours, you kiss his fingers, licking and sucking on them as you gyrate your hips against him.
"I love your hands." you mumble against him, taking two of his fingers in your mouth and sucking on them, staring intently at the doll's face.
You can feel his cock twitch inside you as you clench around him, working his fingers deep in your hot mouth, holding his other hand on your breast.
There's definitely something in his eyes, you note as you bring yourself closer to your high.
You squeeze your eyes shut, wishing with your whole being he would wake up and touch you everywhere, his hands burning imprints on you, wrapping around your neck, pulling on your hair, spanking you, marking you as his.
With that, you moan loudly, your pussy gripping his cock before you spill your juices all over his length, riding out your high, your fingers on his nipples, pinching and pulling.
"You wanna cum, Seungminnie?" you coo at him. "You pleased me well, you can cum." you add with a particularly strong pinch and it's like he heard you, his cock twitching inside you before he exploded, spurts of hot cum filling you up deeply.
"Ah!" you moan at the feeling, your eyes rolling back as you wrap your arms around him.
After taking some time to calm down, you grab Seungmin's face and press a sweet kiss to his forehead.
"I'm glad you're here, dolly." you whisper.
Exam season was riding you hard, coupled with essays and projects you had due, you felt extremely stressed.
You were barely eating and sleeping, the only light in your life was your dolly, Seungmin.
All of your friends were in the same predicament as you, so none of them had the time or the will to hang out.
It was like a struggle happening between you and all your obligations, and you were losing the battle.
Just one more paragraph, you thought as your tired fingers ran across the keyboard, your eyes bloodshot and hair a mess, your entire body stiff with stress.
You felt worn out but every now and then you would glance back at the bed and a small smile would spread on your face upon seeing Seungmin waiting for you there.
A few days ago, you had come home to find little hearts drawn in your notebook, knowing it had to be Seungmin since Edie wasn't home then and couldn't possibly be pranking you.
Maybe you wouldn't admit it to your friends but you loved Seungmin, even if he was just a doll.
For the few months you had him, you had grown attached to him; you talked to him about your innermost thoughts and feelings instead of writing them down in your diary.
You always watched movies with him, and after the movie ended you would play with him, exploring his body and wishing he could do the same to you.
You know it's probably crazy, but to you Seungmin is alive, and seeing those heart doodles only confirmed that there was more to him than you initially thought.
And you were right.
Breaking down into tears of frustration that night, you crawled into bed a sobbing mess, your arms wrapping around Seungmin instictively, holding him tightly as you cried into his neck.
You fell into a deep slumber while Seungmin listened to you cry yourself to sleep, your tears soaking up his shirt.
He couldn't stand it, his heart began to beat erratically as he started taking in shallow breaths, his hand gripping at the sheet below him as he tried to gasp for breath.
He shivered against you, his eyes were wide and trained on the ceiling above him as he slowly got his heartbeat and breathing steady.
Miraculously, you didn't feel a thing and kept sleeping as he slowly came to his senses.
The first thing Seungmin felt inside his body was thirst and hunger, his stomach growling, making him feel dizzy as he clutched onto you.
I need to get up!, he thought to himself before slowly rolling out of your hold and falling down on the floor with a thud.
"Ow." he muttered and his head popped up to check on you but you were still fast asleep.
A sad smile spread on his face, you were so exhausted and it hurt him.
Seungmin gathered all his strength as he staggered to the kitchen, drinking a few glasses of water, only feeling a bit more normal after that.
He rummaged through the cabinets, having watched you cook multiple times, he knew where everything was.
Deciding it was fastest to make some instant ramen, he did just that, almost burning himself in the process.
He was so hungry he couldn't think straight, he had no idea what was happening, who exactly he was even though little snippets of memories were running through his mind, he couldn't remember anything clearly except the memories he shared with you.
Seungmin didn't have answers to any of his questions, but there was only one thing he was sure about.
He loves you.
So, after he finished eating, Seungmin sat down in your room, opened up your laptop and worked all night tirelessly to finish up your essay and project.
He was going to make sure you get your much needed rest while he helps you pass your exams.
-
Slowly waking up in the morning, your hands instantly reached out for Seungmin.
With your eyes closed, you started moving your hand around your mattress only to realize that it's empty.
You freeze, dread washing over you before you open your eyes, blinking and looking around the room.
"Oh my god!" you all but scream when you see Seungmin, your Seungmin, the doll, sitting at your table, his upper body leaned on it as he sleeps.
You can hear and see that he's breathing and you don't know how to react, frozen in complete shock.
Quietly, you get up, tippy-toeing your way to him, you lean down to look at his face.
He looks adorable, his face smushed against your papers, his hand on the keyboard of your laptop and the other in his lap.
His eyes move under his eyelids, pretty lashes caressing his skin, his body rising with the breaths he's taking in.
"S-Seungmin?" you place your hand on his upper back, your fingers twitching a little.
"Hm." he hums a little and you chuckle.
You're supposed to feel scared, mortified even; but you feel giddy to finally see him look at you, talk to you, touch you.
"Minnie?" you try again, fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.
His eyes flutter open, and he's confused for a second before his eyes widen at the sight of you.
"Y/n!" he exclaims, sitting up suddenly.
"You're alive. How?" you ask as you observe him.
"I- I woke up last night. I saw how you were struggling, how exhausted you were and I couldn't take it anymore."
"You saw... everything?" your heart beats faster.
"Y-yes." Seungmin nods, the tips of his ears becoming red. "It was as if I was in a state of sleep paralysis, and kept fighting to wake up."
"So you heard everything I said, felt everything I did?" you ask, for some reason the knowledge that Seungmin was actually present during every time you played with him, made you squeeze your thighs together and he noticed, the redness from his ears spreading to his neck.
"Yes." he says and you laugh in disbelief.
"This is insane! Wait, what are you doing at my table?" you remember suddenly and he chuckles awkwardly, playing with the end of his shirt.
"I- uhm... I finished your essay and project. Don't worry, I didn't fuck anything up! I worked on it as if it was you." he says and suddenly your eyes water.
"Minnie. You're so sweet. I'm so happy you came to life." you throw your arms around him and he gasps, his heart jumping in his chest.
He can't believe you didn't freak out and turn away.
Not only that you didn't turn away, you sat in his lap as he tentatively put his arms around you.
You held him tighter, making him melt into you.
Leaning back, you grabbed his face and started kissing him.
"Y/n, wait- you're not freaking out?" he stops you suddenly, an insecure look in his eyes as he observes your face.
"No, I knew you were alive. You hid my stuff and played pranks on me the whole time." you narrow your eyes at him and Seungmin chuckles awkwardly.
"Oops?" he grimaces and you laugh.
"Make it up to me, please." you whisper against his lips and Seungmin can't deny you.
He presses his lips on yours, his hands on your lower back, bringing you closer to him and making you grind against his lap.
Your nails dig into his shoulders when you feel him grow under you, and you can't help it as you start grinding against him.
All the times you played with him, you wished he'd wake up and just take you, and here he was now.
"Please, Minnie. I need you so bad." you moan and Seungmin smirks against your lips, his hands sliding down to grip your ass as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth at the same time.
He swallows all the sounds you make, his tongue exploring every inch of you as he lifts his hand and smacks your ass.
You jolt a little, pressing against him harder, feeling his cock twitching against your wet core.
Seungmin gets impatient, his hands grip the back of your thighs and he lifts you up, carrying you to your bed as you clutch onto him.
"I fantasized about this so much." you gasp breathlessly as he kneels between your legs, grabbing your ankles and pushing your knees to your chest.
"About what exactly? Tell me what you need, y/n." Seungmin's eyes are dark and filled with lust.
You shiver, biting on your lip as you feel more arousal soak your panties.
"I want you to be rough with me, please. Just do whatever you want." you whimper making him smirk.
"Anything you need, darling." Seungmin leans down closer to you, pressing his lips on yours hard and forcing his tongue in as his hand comes up to grip your throat.
The sound that comes out of you and travels into him, makes him grow impossibly hard in his boxers.
He squeezes your throat a little as he kisses you hard, taking your breath away and you dig your nails in his arm, your middle lifting up towards his and brushing against his hard member.
Seungmin presses down on you, slowly grinding against your wet panties as he leans back and grips your throat harder.
Your eyes flutter as you completely give into him, his gaze is fixed on you and how you're so willingly letting him hold your life in his hand.
When he releases you, you gasp for breath and grab at him.
"Fuck me, please Seungmin!" you groan and he slides your panties down as you rip your shirt off fast.
He chuckles at your eagerness, getting rid of his clothes too.
He presses his lips on your neck, his pretty hands exploring your body just how you wanted him to, fingers playing with your nipples, running over the dips and valleys of you.
Your whole body is on fire, your core is throbbing to be touched and it's like he senses it, his hand sliding between your legs to cup your pussy.
"S-Seungmin!" you whimper as he starts sliding his fingers on your wet folds, brining them up to your clit and pressing into it.
"Is this all mine?" he smirks darkly at you, torturing your sensitive clit, his other hand worshipping your breasts.
"Yes, all yours!" you moan as he slaps your pussy, a wave of arousal rushing through you.
"Please!" you beg, your hands gripping at the sheets beneath you.
"I love when you beg like that." Seungmin says, pushing his fingers inside you and you whimper as your pussy sucks them in eagerly.
"You always did what you wanted with me. Not that I mind that, but it's my turn now." he smirks, finding that gummy spot inside you and fucking slowly into it.
"Mm..." you moan as he pinches your nipples, teasing you with slow moves.
He speeds up, only to slow down again, driving you insane as your body yearns for release.
"P-please, let me cum." you whimper and Seungmin chuckles, withdrawing his fingers from you.
All those times you edged him were coming back to bite you in the ass as he decided to take his sweet time with you before giving you what you want.
You whine but before you can protest more, you feel the tip of his cock pressing against you, running over your folds and teasing your clit.
You're a moaning mess as he slowly pushes in, only the tip breaching your hot cunt.
You wait for more but realize with despair that he is going to tease you until the very end as he starts fucking you only with the tip of his pretty cock.
"Oh my god! Please!" you whine.
"Be quiet and take it." he says, his hand wrapping around your throat once more, squeezing as his tip goes in and out of you, then runs over your folds, smearing your arousal everywhere, playing with your tortured clit.
You give in, spreading your legs more as you hold them open for him while he tortures you.
"That's it. My good girl." Seungmin praises you and you whimper as he lets go of your neck.
You're about to beg for more but Seungmin leans back before grabbing you and turning you around on all fours.
"Oh!" you exclaim as he spreads your legs with his.
"I know what you want, darling." he chuckles lowly behind you before pushing into you harshly, making you take his entire length in one thrust.
"Ah!" you whimper as your pussy clenches around him immediately, not wanting to let him go.
Seungmin grunts, spanking you fast and hard a few times before he grabs your hips and starts fucking into you with an unforgiving pace.
You gasp for air as your grab the headboard, making the bed shake with the movement of your bodies.
His hand tangles in your hair and he pulls as you cry out, not being able to hold it in anymore, you cream around his cock and his eyes roll back, his hips stuttering as he releases inside you, filling you up with his hot load.
"Oh my god." you whimper, collapsing down as both of you breathe hard and he wraps his arms around you.
"That's what you fantasized about, hm?" he whispers, lips brushing against your ear.
"Y-yes." you say, breathless.
Both of you are quiet for some time before you face each other, breaking into shy smiles.
"I love you, Seungmin." your hand is on his cheek, and then in his soft hair as you caress him.
"I love you so much, y/n. What I feel for you woke me up, because I couldn't stand just watching you go through all the stress alone." he says as you hold each other.
"I wasn't alone, you were always there." you retort with a smile.
Something more gentle settles between you, and the two of you cuddle quietly, enjoying in each other's presence.
You stay like that for some time before you decide to clean up and eat breakfast.
Walking into the kitchen, you don't even notice Edie who turns around and upon seeing you walking in with Seungmin, she shrieks, taking a step back as her face morphs into a look of shock.
"What the fuck?!"
"Calm down, Edie." you chuckle.
"Calm down?! He's - he's alive! How?!" she keeps freaking out.
"I woke up-"
"He talks!" Edie interrupts him and you start laughing.
"Oh my god, Edie. No, we don't know how he woke up either and how he's alive." you say with a chuckle.
"Do you remember anything, Minnie?" you turn to Seungmin and he seems to blush at the nickname, fiddling with his fingers as if he didn't just rail you in the bedroom thirty minutes ago.
"Snippets. I remember this cold place, some kind of droning sound. Water too, maybe? And there were others. But I can't remember their faces at all. I just know they were there."
"Others?" Edie purses her lips and then grabs her laptop hurriedly.
"Them?" she types quickly before turning the laptop towards the two of you, the familiar site presenting the sex dolls on her screen.
Seungmin gasps, his lips trembling.
"T-that... that's them! They were there with me. In the cold room." Seungmin suddenly hugs himself and you can see he's becoming distressed.
Quickly, you reach towards the laptop, closing it and putting your arms around him.
"It's okay, take a deep breath." you say softly as you caress him.
"How about we finish our exams this week and then all of us try to find out what actually happened to you, Seungmin?" Edie offers and he nods.
"I'd like that." he says. "Just... I never want to go back there. I don't know why but it feels horrifying."
"Don't worry, I won't let anyone take you away from me." you smile at him, kissing his cheek gently.
Your exam and presentation week pass by smoothly, with the constant help and support of Seungmin, everything was easier.
He insisted on sharing your burdens, always reminding you to take care of yourself, preparing you warm meals while you studied and listening to you yap about what you learned for practice.
Your friend group all came to see Seungmin and they adored his personality instantly since he was a little shy with them but clearly adored you, they congratulated themselves for finding the perfect guy for you.
As the week came to an end, after a good night's sleep and a warm breakfast, Seungmin, Edie and you sat on your living room floor with your laptops, the manual and Seungmin's letter.
All three of you went through the letter and manual multiple times, like some new information would appear and help you understand where Seungmin came from, how did he suddenly come to life, why did the usb opening disappear when he woke up, why can't he remember anything.
The site wasn't much help either, it only had pictures of the dolls, info about them written in a similar fashion as Seungmin's manual was.
Nothing about the company except that they had advanced technology they were proud of testing.
After hours of research, you came up with a big fat nothing.
"I can't believe there's nothing on the net about this company!" Edie threw her hands up in frustration.
"There's something fishy about all of this." you let out a sigh as Seungmin looks at you.
"I'm really trying hard to remember more." he says.
"I know you are." you smile at him, caressing his face. "How about we take a break?"
"Sounds good to me. I'm meeting my lover for lunch anyways." Edie smiles.
"Hey, thank you so much for helping, Edie." you smile at her and she chuckles.
"Of course! What are friends for!" she exclaims with a giggle.
-
"I want to thank you for everything you've done for me." you whisper while you and Seungmin cuddle.
He smiles as you lift up before burying your face in his neck and kissing his soft skin.
"It was my pleasure." Seungmin takes in a shaky breath as your tongue darts out to lick at his sensitive spot before you sink your teeth into it.
"Y/n." he whimpers, grabbing at you.
"And it will be my pleasure to show you how grateful I am." you smirk at him, his eyes hooded as he observes you.
You lift his shirt up, taking it off and tossing it aside, your lips attaching to his skin instantly.
You leave kisses on his collarbone and chest, your tongue playing with his nipples, teeth grazing the sensitive buds.
Seungmin relaxes, letting you kiss his stomach, all the way down to the bulge in his boxers, where you press a kiss to his head.
"Ah, y/n." he whines, lifting up into you.
You only smirk, hooking your fingers in his underwear and pulling it down, watching his cock spring free, pre cum beading at the tip.
You need to taste him, tongue on him immediately before you wrap your lips around the head, sucking on it gently.
"Shit!" Seungmin moans, his hand tangling in your hair and holding you down.
It's clear to you that he's slowly taking control as he lifts his hips up, pushing your head down at the same time and making you take more of his length.
Your eyes flutter, enjoying the way he uses you, fucking up slowly into your mouth and you hold onto his thighs as he grips your hair and pushes in further.
You gag a little when you feel the tip of his cock bullying its way to the back of your throat and your pussy clenches.
You squeeze your thighs, looking for some friction as Seungmin keeps fucking up into you harder and faster.
"Fuck, you're doing so good, baby." he moans, his body trembling for a moment.
You choke on his length but he doesn't let up.
"Just a little more, and then I'll give you my cum." he smirks and you whimper around him, your cunt throbbing.
Your hand sneaks on his inner thigh only to grab his balls, squeezing them and massaging them and Seungmin snaps, his hips jolting as he releases hot spurts of cum inside you.
Your eyes close in pleasure as you swallow, your pussy dripping arousal on your panties.
"Please, Minnie. Please, touch me." you're desperate as you pop off of him and he shushes you, lifting up and laying you down.
He strips you quickly, his lips on your skin, finger on your wet cunt.
"So eager for me, aren't you?" he smirks, dipping just the tips of his fingers inside you.
"Y-yes, ah!" you whimper when he flicks your sensitive clit.
"Such a good girl." Seungmin coos at you, plunging two of his fingers inside you, his other hand stimulating your clit as he massages it and pinches occasionally.
Being the little tease that he is, he pulls his fingers out any time you're close to cumming, just to watch you writhe in frustration, your little pussy clenching around nothing.
He doesn't let you cum until he's reduced you to a crying, shaking mess and by that time you are so fucked out that you can't even speak.
You clench around his fingers before exploding all over his hand, squirting as his dark eyes observe you.
When he retracts his fingers, you grip his wrist, bringing his hand to your mouth as you swirl your tongue around them, cleaning them up and sucking on the digits.
"F-fuck." Seungmin whines.
Before he can lean down to kiss you, your phone starts ringing.
"Let it." he begs.
"It's Edie." you say quickly, ignoring the throbbing in your core. "Hey." you pick up as Seungmin catches his breath.
"What?! Okay, thanks for the heads up!"
"What's going on?" Seungmin looks at you worriedly and you quickly shake your head, grabbing a few tissues from the nightstand to clean yourself up.
"Edie and her boyfriend were in a diner and saw the news on tv, you were on it, and the other dolls. The company said that all the dolls have some kind of malfunction and that they're taking them back-"
"They wanna take me away from you?" Seungmin's lower lip trembles.
"You know I won't let that happen." you say as you open your laptop, typing in the site.
"It's gone!" you exclaim, the only thing that's popping up when you type the url in, is an error message.
"Shit, they're gonna come for me! I can't be here. I- I need to leave." Seungmin starts panicking suddenly.
"Seungmin, please, it's gonna be okay. I will-"
"No, y/n. It's too dangerous. It's best if they don't find me here. I don't wanna get you mixed up into anything."
"Minnie, I'm already mixed up into it. Because I love you and I won't let them hurt you." you grab his shaky hands.
"But-"
"No, we will do this together. I'll fight them, I swear. Just promise me you won't leave." you beg, squeezing his hands.
"Fine. I promise. I love you so much, y/n." Seungmin kisses you, the kiss feels like a goodbye to you but you don't want to dwell on it, the hope in your heart is not dying yet.
But, that night when you fall asleep in Seungmin's arms, he breaks his promise.
Having an inkling that whoever created him in the company has a tendency of being cruel, he didn't want you anywhere near that.
With a heavy heart, he looked at your sleeping face, caressing you and pressing his lips to your forehead and then your lips, he whispered his confession of love and disappeared into the night.
As he wondered next to the road, a car rolled closer and Seungmin lifted his thumb.
The car slowed down and when he looked into the passenger's seat window, a reflection of a familiar face stared at him in shock...
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can we have like a pov of like what MOB would do if something did happen to simon..? luv you!
mail-order bride
your tea is cold when you pick it up to drink it. it burns you, how cold it is, and you cough a little as you set it down, grimacing as you wipe your lips.
maybe it's just one of those days. the rain is hitting a little too hard against the window. the cats have been restless. the dark one shredded your yoga mat by clawing at it under a doorway, and the orange tabby managed to knock over all of simon's plants from the windowsill (which you frantically put back inside their little pots--would plant murder be his last straw?). you left a red shirt in when you washed the whites (you apologized to all of simon's white tees), and when you noticed holes in your favorite sweats in a pattern that matched a cat's claws, you called it a day and decided to make tea (another fail).
you rub your pounding head, taking a deep breath, but you aren't given long to count down from five when your phone begins to ring.
you pick it up, not recognizing the number, but you put it to your ear as you get up to boil more water.
"hello?"
a throat clears on the other end. "do i have mrs. riley 'ere?"
you frown, leaning your hip against the kitchen counter as you turn a burner on and put the kettle over it.
"uhm...yeah. this is she," you say finally. you look at the clock; it's late, much too late. "who is this?"
"this is john. ah...captain john price, ma'am."
you clench your jaw, closing your eyes. "um...i'm sorry, i...what can i do for you? simon's not--"
"we had to call for medevac," john says lowly. "ahh...should be headin' into surgery soon. i--"
"wait--what?" you cough a little, shutting the stove off, and you're scrambling as you make your way to the bedroom. he's talking again, you realize, but you can't hear what he's saying. your eyes are moving around the room, and you frantically start to pull drawers open, grabbing a sweater, jeans, actual clothes to put on. you shed your pajamas, hopping as you slide your jeans on, and he's still talking, but you still hear nothing.
you run into the dresser, the furniture rattling, and you let the phone go, realizing you can't see because there's tears blurring your vision. you wipe them away, looking around for your purse, and when you realize what this is, an emergency--right?--you head for the bookcase in simon's study.
you toss a few books down onto the floor, your hands shaking as your fingers curl around the spine of a leather bible. you set the book down on simon's desk, flipping through the pages before you find your prized paper nestled between the pages of the book of john.
you head back to the bedroom, picking up the phone again, and you shakily dial the number that's on the back of the card. you take a seat on the bed (because where would you go anyways?), and you close your eyes as you wait for someone to pick up.
it rings for too long. you gasp a little, clutching the phone tight, and you beg for someone to pick up, please, please, please--
"'ello?"
"johnny--" you hiccup, standing up. "johnny, he...he told me--"
"wha--who--" on the other end, johnny shouts at someone to get a move on, "--bleedin' christ, who is this?"
"it's me," you whisper. "i'm...simon's--"
"ach...fuckin' hell..." there's a long, deep sigh on the other end. "oi, lass, listen, he's alright--"
"he's...b-but someone said surgery."
"right, i..." he sighs again, and you hear a door shut on the other end. "ye sit tight, luv. i'll come get ye, okay?"
you sniffle, wiping your face, "just tell me he's gonna be okay. tell me i'm worrying for nothing."
johnny chuckles a bit, and the sound soothes you just enough. "gonna be alright. lad's fuckin' dramatic, i'll tell ye tha', big brick fuckin' stepped in front of--"
"okay, johnny, please don't tell me how simon almost killed himself and get your ass over here, okay?" you snap, and johnny halts his laughing.
"right, yeah, forgive me." you hear the rattle of keys. "'m coming."
"mrs. riley?"
your head lifts up. you blink the sleep out of your eyes, rubbing them gently, and there's a petite woman in scrubs smiling at you with her mask hanging around her neck. you have two sergeants at either side of you, captain price settled leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. you have a blanket around your shoulders, and when you slip it off, johnny takes it from you gently.
"you can see him now."
you get to your feet, and when you pass simon's captain, he tips his hat at you respectfully. you hurry and follow the doctor down the hall, and when you see simon's name scribbled on a makeshift sigh on the wall, you eagerly pick up the pace until the door is opened for you.
he looks peaceful laying there. the monitors beep quietly around him, little wires and tubes falling around him, and you let out a breath when you see him blink those dark eyes awake blearily.
"tha' an angel?"
you start to cry. "you're such an asshole."
you come close to the side of the bed, taking his outstretched hand, and you clutch his big hand to your chest. you curl his hand into a fist, pressing your face against the back of his hand, kissing his knuckles there gently. he uncurls his fingers and wipes at your tears gently, shaking his head.
"gave ya a right scare, didn't i?"
"yes, you dickhead," you sniffle, and simon chuckles lowly, wincing a little as he clutches his lower stomach. you use your foot to bring the chair behind you closer, taking a seat in it as you look up at him. he turns his head to face you, giving you a pained smile, and you let out the breath you've been holding since johnny came to get you. "what's the matter with you, simon?"
"shit happens."
you try not to roll your eyes, but the anger is not lost on simon. he squeezes your hand gently, his eyes flicking up to the clock, and he grimaces when he realizes it's nearly six in the morning. you must have been here all night, waiting for him.
"is this how it's gonna be?" you ask in a whisper. when he meets your eyes again, it's more difficult this time. what you're asking isn't predictable. it isn't a straight answer. and if he gives you anything that isn't the truth, it feels like a lie, and he can't do that to you. "w-waking up in the middle of the night? hoping that the call isn't...that...hoping that--"
"not that simple," simon interrupts gently.
"well, make it simple, simon," you say firmly. even through your tears, your voice doesn't shake this time. "make it very simple for me, then."
simon purses his lips, and for the first time since you've met your husband, he hesitates. he doesn't have an answer, at least a good one.
"don't wanna lie to ya, swee'eart," simon murmurs, and you stare right back at him.
"then don't."
he sucks on his teeth, looking away, and you tug on his hand, pulling his eyes back to you.
"look at me, simon," you say, and he looks sad. he's going to tell you something that you won't want to hear. he's going to tell you something that's been the truth since he enlisted, a reality that never bothered him until he realized he had a responsibility to keep a roof over your head. there's someone waiting inside of his house. there's a place that's waiting for him on one side of the bed he shares with you. there's someone else's shoes always next to his, and someone else's name that will always be beside his own.
family.
he has a family.
"i'll try and keep ya outta here," is all simon murmurs. you smile at that. it's a promise, but he won't lie to you. always honest, your husband. he tells you things as they are. he doesn't pretend. everything with simon is the truth as he presents it, and it's eerily comforting, even if the truth isn't one that you like.
"i love you, simon," you whisper, and when you touch his face finally, the sting of the gold of your wedding is a welcome distraction.
he vows to make this the last time you see him this way. nothing is worth seeing that face of yours like this--tired, disheveled, the angry crease in your brow. you're not meant for these things. for the waiting, the crying, the worry, it's not a life he meant to give you.
for a moment, he wonders if you'd ever ask him.
will you hang it up for me? will you leave for me?
the most terrifying part, he realizes, is that he isn't sure of what his answer would be. and he isn't sure of what you would do if he told you no.
#oof angst#it betrays me#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#order up
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I can do it for you
— Synopsis: After years dealing with everything alone, you stumble upon an old wishbook from your past. And you jokingly writes down your ideal boyfriend, Mingyu. To your surprise, Mingyu magically appears in your couch. — WC: 8k — WARNINGS: Smut, fantasy, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral (f.receiving), g'spot stimulation, overstimulation, oversensitivity, sex fluids and... HOUSEWIFE MINGYU?!
You've always been one of those independent souls since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. Nobody had to tell you how to tie your shoes or pour your own cereal; you were on it like a hawk on a mouse. That's just how you rolled.
Every morning, without fail, the alarm clock would screech you awake. You'd drag yourself out of bed, bleary-eyed and half-asleep, but ready to tackle whatever the day threw at you. Bleary-eyed, you'd stumble out of bed, wishing for just a few more minutes of shut-eye.
Then it was off into the madhouse of morning traffic. Cars honking, people yelling—it was like a scene straight out of a circus. One hand massaging your temple, while the other holds the wheel, again, what would be the excuse about being late for your supervisee?
Once you strutted into the office, it was game time. Arms loaded up with documents, and the sound of your heels echoing through the corridors until you plopped down at your desk. Your boss, with his constant nitpicking, was like a pesky mosquito buzzing around your head, while you practically sizzled your fingertips on the keyboard.
As the end of the month drew near, it was like a race against the clock in the department. Everyone was scrambling to wrap up their projects, racing against time like sprinters gunning for the finish line. The hours seemed to slip through their fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass.
Phones were ringing off the hook, papers were flying left and right, and the clickety-clack of keyboards filled the air like a drumbeat. It was a whirlwind of activity, with no time to spare for even a quick breather.
As you finally left the building, the thought of tackling the grocery store was the furthest thing from your mind. Rush hour was in full swing, and the last thing you wanted was to spend a few more hours stuck in traffic.
With a sigh of exhaustion, you let your purse plop onto the couch, and you dashed towards the bathroom, craving the comfort of a hot shower to wash away the day's stress. But as soon as you twisted the knob to turn on the water, you were met with a disappointing blast of icy coldness. Great, just what you needed—a malfunctioning shower.
You knew the drill all too well. The resistance had probably burned out again, leaving you with no choice but to endure a bone-chilling cold shower. Normally, you'd roll up your sleeves and tackle the problem head-on, but right now, the thought of dealing with it was more than you could bear.
So, with a resigned shrug, you decided to tough it out. A cold shower was better than no shower at all, and besides, you were too tired to bother with fixing it tonight. As you stepped under the frigid stream of water, you couldn't help but curse your luck.
With some unexpected free time on your hands, you found yourself rummaging through the forgotten stuff tucked away in the drawer beneath the TV. Dust bunnies greeted you as you pulled out various items—a picture frame with a photo of your graduation, a stack of letters from high school friends, old books with worn covers, and...
You blinked in surprise as you pulled out what appeared to be a wishbook. Memories flooded back to you as you flipped through its pages, the corners dog-eared and the edges frayed from years of neglect. You vaguely remembered creating this in middle school, jotting down your hopes and dreams for your adult life.
You couldn't help but be taken aback as you glanced through the pages of the wishbook, tracing your finger over each childhood dream that had somehow become a reality.
"When I grow up, I want to drive a red car." You chuckled to yourself as you remembered the day you drove off the lot in that sleek red beauty, feeling like the queen of the road.
"When I grow up, I want to work at my dream job." It hadn't been an easy journey, filled with ups and downs and more than a few setbacks along the way. But through sheer grit and determination, you had landed your dream job, doing what you loved day in and day out.
"When I grow up, I want to have my own apartment." Well, here you were, sitting in your very own slice of paradise. Sure, it might not be the biggest or the fanciest place in town, but it was yours. And that was all that mattered.
You couldn't help but feel a pang of curiosity as you gazed at the blank pages at the end of the wishbook. What if you wrote something new? Something unexpected, something you hadn't even considered before?
With a sudden impulse, you grabbed your phone and dialed up your friend. After a few rings, she answered, her voice laced with amusement.
"Hey there, what's up?" she chirped.
"Hey," you replied, a hint of uncertainty in your tone. "I was just thinking... what do you think I've been needing in my life?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line before your friend burst into laughter. "Oh, that's easy," she said between giggles. "You need a boyfriend!"
You couldn't help but frown at her response. "Really? Out of all the things in the world, a boyfriend?"
She chuckled, sensing your skepticism. "Okay Y/N, maybe not a boyfriend exactly," she conceded, "but someone to take care of you. You're always the one taking care of everything that falls into your hands. Have you ever thought about taking a break? Having someone to do it for you for once?"
Her words struck a chord with you, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of recognition. She was right—you were constantly taking care of everyone and everything around you, but who was taking care of you?
You chuckled to yourself as you scribbled down the traits you wanted in a potential boyfriend, feeling a bit silly but also oddly excited at the prospect. As the hours ticked by, you found yourself lost in thought, lost in the whimsical world of daydreams and possibilities.
"A guy who is proactive, kind, maybe a little bit clingy?" you mused aloud, tapping the pen against your chin. "Someone who knows their way around the kitchen... As you continued to brainstorm, you found yourself getting a bit carried away. "Good-looking and tall, with long hair and puppy-dog eyes"
The more you wrote, the more absurdly perfect your imaginary boyfriend became. It was almost like describing a prince straight out of a fairy tale, complete with all the clichéd traits and characteristics.
As you looked over the words you had written in the wishbook, a wave of doubt washed over you. You couldn't help but cringe at the seemingly unrealistic expectations you had set for yourself. Closing the wishbook with a sigh, you tossed it onto the center table, feeling a pang of disappointment.
"It was just a coincidence," you muttered to yourself, trying to rationalize away the strange alignment of your childhood dreams with your current reality. It seemed too far-fetched to believe that your wishes had somehow come true.
With a heavy heart, you made your way to the bedroom, longing for the solace of sleep to sweep you away from the uncertainty of the day. Maybe it was time to let go of the notion that wishes could come true and focus on the here and now.
And there it was, like a cruel joke, that goddamn alarm blaring in your ear, dragging you kicking and screaming out of the sweet embrace of sleep. With a groan of frustration, you stumbled out of bed and trudged to the bathroom, bracing yourself for another shitty, cold-ass shower.
The water hit you like a slap in the face as you hurriedly scrubbed away the remnants of sleep. No time for luxuriating in a warm bath, oh no, not in your world.
After hastily toweling off, you raced around the house like a madman, searching for that elusive perfect piece to complete your look. But in the end, it was all just chaos, a jumbled mess of clothes and accessories that left you feeling more frazzled than ever.
As you stormed out the door and into the chaos of the morning rush hour, you couldn't help but curse under your breath at the sea of cars stretched out before you. It was like a never-ending nightmare, a never-ending parade of honking horns and exhaust fumes.
And then there was your boss, with his never-ending stream of shit, nitpicking every little thing you did like a goddamn broken record. You plastered on a fake smile and nodded along, all the while seething with rage on the inside.
You trudged wearily from the elevator, each step sending shooting pains through your feet courtesy of those godforsaken heels. The keys jangled in your hand as you finally reached your apartment door, the promise of relief beckoning you inside.
With a sigh of relief, you swung open the door and kicked off your heels, reveling in the cool touch of the floor against your bare feet. But as you stepped further into the apartment, something felt off.
The air was thick with the scent of food, and a faint hum drifted through the air. Panic surged through you as you realized that someone had invaded your sanctuary.
Heart pounding, you tiptoed through the apartment, checking every nook and cranny for signs of an intruder. But each room you entered was empty, the only sound the echo of your own footsteps.
Finally, you reached the kitchen, and there he was—a tall figure standing at the stove, his back to you as he hummed a tune under his breath. It took a moment for the shock to register, but when it did, you felt a rush of conflicting emotions flood through you.
"Who the hell are you?" you demanded, your voice sharp with disbelief and anger as you confronted the intruder. The guy nearly jumped out of his skin, and you flinched together.
"What are you doing here? Leave!" you insisted, your heart pounding in your chest as you pointed the kitchen utensil in his direction.
The intruder hesitated for a moment before speaking, his voice trembling slightly. "I-I'm Mingyu," he stammered, his eyes wide with fear.
You scoffed, the name sounding vaguely familiar but not enough to ease your suspicion. "Mingyu? Who the fuck is Mingyu?" you snapped, your anger boiling over.
But then it hit you like a ton of bricks. Mingyu... the random name you had created for the boyfriend in your wishbook, the one you had jokingly listed out the qualities you wanted in a partner.
Your laughter was hollow and bitter as you realized the absurdity of the situation. "Are you kidding me?" you muttered, shaking your head in disbelief. "I'm calling the police."
But before you could reach for the phone, the intruder lunged forward, grabbing the wishbook from the center table. "No, no, no!" he exclaimed, desperation creeping into his voice.
You watched in confusion as he flipped through the pages, his eyes widening in shock as he read the list of qualities you had written down.
You eyed the wishbook with a mixture of disbelief and apprehension as the intruder waved it in front of you, his excitement palpable. Every detail you had written down seemed to describe him perfectly—tall, with puppy-dog eyes, and even the long hair. It was uncanny.
But despite the strange coincidence, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. Keeping your distance, you raised the pan threateningly, the question burning on your lips. "How did you get into my house?" you demanded, your voice sharp with suspicion.
The intruder's eyes widened in alarm, his hands held up in a gesture of surrender. "I-I don't know," he stammered, his voice trembling. "I just woke up on the couch, I swear."
Your heart raced as you processed his words. He didn't seem to be lying, but the situation was just too bizarre to comprehend. How could someone just magically appear in your home, especially someone who seemed to fit the description of your fictional boyfriend?
With a wary glance, you slowly lowered the pan, the tension in the air dissipating slightly. "Well, you better start explaining," you muttered, your mind racing with a million different possibilities.
You paced back and forth in front of the couch, your mind spinning with disbelief as you tried to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding before you. "So you're telling me that I manifested you by my wishbook?" you repeated incredulously, your voice tinged with disbelief.
The intruder nodded solemnly, reaching for the wishbook and flipping it over to reveal a small gold star etched into the back cover. "See this?" he said, pointing to the star. "This is a manifestation charm. It's what brought me here."
Your frown deepened as you studied the tiny symbol, your mind struggling to comprehend the bizarre turn of events. "But... how?" you muttered, your thoughts racing a mile a minute.
The intruder's eyes widened with curiosity as he looked up at you. "Where did you get this book?" he asked, his voice tinged with urgency.
You racked your brain, trying to recall where you had acquired the wishbook all those years ago. And then it hit you like a bolt of lightning. "A mystique store," you blurted out, the memories flooding back in a rush. "I bought it from a mystique store years ago."
You sank onto the couch beside him, the weight of the revelation settling over you like a heavy blanket. It was hard to wrap your head around the idea that a simple book could hold such mysterious powers.
You turned to the intruder, your curiosity piqued as you sought answers to the questions burning in your mind. "Where did you come from?" you asked, your voice laced with both apprehension and fascination.
The intruder hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away as if he were wrestling with his response. "I... I don't know," he admitted finally, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "It's all a bit... fuzzy."
You furrowed your brow in confusion, wondering how someone could not know their own age or origins. "What do you mean, fuzzy?" you pressed, your curiosity growing by the second.
The intruder sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I woke up on your couch with no memory of how I got here or where I came from," he explained, his expression troubled. "All I know is that I felt drawn to you somehow, like I was meant to find you."
"You didn't have a life before?" you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief as you looked at the intruder sitting beside you.
He nodded solemnly, his expression tinged with sadness. "Yes, I did. But it's all... blurry, like a dream that I can't quite remember."
Your brow furrowed in confusion. "Where did you live before?" you pressed, your curiosity getting the better of you.
The intruder's gaze drifted towards the window, his hands gesturing vaguely in front of him. "Somewhere like this," he murmured, his voice distant.
You followed his gaze, staring out at the endless expanse of buildings and lights stretching out before you. It was a sight you had grown accustomed to over the years, but seeing it through the eyes of someone who had never experienced it before brought a strange sense of wonder.
"And now?" you prompted, turning back to the intruder beside you.
He shrugged, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Now, I'm here," he replied simply, his eyes meeting yours with hope.
You blinked in surprise as the intruder broke the silence, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "I fixed the shower," he announced, a hint of pride in his voice.
You widened your eyebrows, your mind struggling to process his words. "You... fixed the shower?" you repeated, your voice tinged with disbelief.
The intruder nodded eagerly, a pleased smile spreading across his face. "Yeah, it was just a small problem with the resistance. I managed to sort it out," he explained, his tone casual as if he hadn't just performed a miracle.
You couldn't help but stare at him in astonishment, your mind racing with a million questions. How had he known there was a problem with the shower? And more importantly, how had he fixed it so quickly?
But before you could voice your thoughts, he continued, "Oh, and I went to the supermarket and washed your clothes too."
Your jaw practically hit the floor as his words sank in. "You... went to the supermarket?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.
The intruder nodded, his smile widening at your stunned expression. "Yep, got everything on your list. And the laundry was piling up, so I took care of that too," he said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
You were at a loss for words, your mind reeling with the sheer absurdity of the situation. This man, this stranger who had magically appeared in your living room, had taken it upon himself to fix your shower, do your grocery shopping, and even wash your clothes—all without being asked.
"But... why?" you finally managed to sputter out, your voice tinged with confusion.
The intruder shrugged, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Why not?" he replied simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.
"Come here," he beckoned, motioning for you to follow him into the kitchen. With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, you trailed after him, unsure of what to expect.
As he lifted the lid of the pan on the stove, a delicious aroma wafted up, making your mouth water. "Wow," you murmured, impressed by the sight of the freshly cooked food before you. "You cooked all of this?"
He nodded proudly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yep, thought I'd whip up a little something for us to eat," he replied, gesturing towards the table where two plates were already set.
You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, grateful for the unexpected gesture. But then your eyes drifted to the clothesline in the corner of the room, where an array of freshly washed clothing hung neatly.
"Oh my god," you gasped, your hand flying to cover your face in embarrassment. "You washed everything?"
The intruder followed your gaze, his eyes landing on the recently laundered garments with a hint of amusement. "Yep, everything," he confirmed, his tone light and playful.
Your cheeks flushed crimson as you realized just how intimate some of the items hanging on the line were. "I... uh..." you stammered, at a loss for words.
He grinned mischievously, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Hey, I gotta say, those puppy-stamped underwear of yours are pretty cute," he teased, a playful glint in his eye.
You buried your face in your hands, the heat of embarrassment spreading across your cheeks. "Oh my god, stop," you groaned, mortified by the unexpected turn of events.
[...]
As you emerged from the warmth of the bath, wrapped snugly in your pajamas, you found Mingyu already fast asleep on the couch, curled up into a small ball. Despite the strangeness of the situation, a pang of sympathy tugged at your heartstrings as you watched him sleep.
You couldn't deny that he looked rather adorable, all shrunken and peaceful in his slumber. If you had asked for a short man in your wishbook, he certainly fit the couch.
But as you glanced at your bed, you knew that letting him sleep there was out of the question. He may have magically appeared in your life, but he was still a stranger, and you weren't about to let your guard down just yet.
Sure, you could kick him out onto the cold streets, but the thought left a bitter taste in your mouth. You weren't heartless, after all, and it was clear that he didn't have a place to go. He hadn't asked to be here, and the circumstances of his arrival were still shrouded in mystery.
But as you glanced at him sleeping peacefully, his features softened in the glow of the moonlight, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of responsibility towards him. After all, he was just as much a victim of whatever strange forces had brought him here as you were.
With a sigh, you resigned yourself to the fact that he would have to stay—for now, at least. You could figure out the details in the morning, once the shock of the day had worn off and your mind was clearer.
As you stirred awake to the aroma of freshly brewed coffeee, you nearly jumped out of your skin before remembering that Mingyu was there. With a mixture of relief and gratitude, you swung your legs over the side of the bed and rubbed the sleep from your eyes.
As you got ready for work, the thought of facing another chaotic day loomed over you like a dark cloud. But as you emerged into the living room, the sight of a steaming mug of coffee waiting for you on the table brought a small smile to your face.
You took a tentative sip, and It was so good that you couldn't help but shake off the idea of going to the coffee shop today.
"Mingyu, I'm leaving," you announced, grabbing your bag and heading towards the door. "I'll be back at 7pm. Do you need anything?"
Just as you were about to step out, Mingyu appeared in the living room, a packed lunch in his hands. "Here," he said, offering you the lunchbox. "Eat well, and I'll be waiting for you."
You couldn't help but smile at his thoughtfulness, but as your eyes fell on him, clad in one of your shirts from a rock band, you couldn't suppress a laugh. The shirt was stretched to its limits, barely covering his tummy while his biceps threatened to tear through the fabric.
"Okay, I'm definitely going to buy you some clothes," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can't I walk without them?" he teased, his eyes dancing with mischief.
You widened your eyes in mock horror. "Of course not!" you exclaimed, feigning shock. "You can't just walk naked on the street!"
Mingyu tilted his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Can't I?" he countered, a playful grin spreading across his face.
You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, shaking your head in disbelief. "No, you definitely can't," you replied with a chuckle. "Now, behave yourself while I'm gone, okay?"
Mingyu nodded solemnly, his smile widening. "I promise," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
As you sat down to eat your lunch at work, you couldn't help but notice the curious glances from your coworkers. They watched you with envious eyes as you savored each bite of the delicious meal that Mingyu had prepared for you.
Suppressing a smile, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Mingyu for his thoughtfulness. Despite the strange circumstances of his arrival, he had gone out of his way to make sure you were well-fed and taken care of.
As you enjoyed the flavors of the homemade meal, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through you. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about Mingyu's character and the bond that was beginning to form between the two of you.
As the evening rolled around and you left work, you were determined to fulfill your promise to yourself and Mingyu. You headed to the shopping district, the image of Mingyu looking like a doll lingering in your mind.
You browsed through the racks of clothing, selecting pieces that you thought would suit him perfectly. It was a strange feeling, shopping for someone else with such care and attention, but with each item you picked out, you couldn't help but imagine how handsome Mingyu would look in them.
You found yourself spending more on clothing for Mingyu than you did for yourself, but you didn't mind in the slightest. After all, he was the one who needed them the most, and you were determined to make sure he looked his best.
With each new outfit you selected, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement bubbling up inside you. This was your chance to dress Mingyu exactly how you had imagined your dream boyfriend to be, and you were going to make sure he looked absolutely perfect.
You arrived home to find Mingyu sitting on the couch, your wishbook in his hands. As you entered, he quickly put the book aside and rose to help you with the heavy bags of clothing.
"You didn't need to buy all of these," he said, his expression turning slightly sullen as he glanced at the bags.
You brushed off his concern with a wave of your hand, a smile playing at the corners of your lips. "It's fine, Mingyu," you reassured him. "I have a good salary now, and it's nice to be able to buy things for someone else, not just for myself."
As you settled onto the couch, Mingyu's gaze lingered on the bags of clothing beside you. There was a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as if he were eager to see what you had bought.
Mingyu removed his shirt as you sat on the couch, unpacking the bags of clothing around you. You couldn't help but steal a glance at his form, admiring the way the fabric of his jeans clung to his legs and the muscles rippled beneath his skin.
Noticing your gaze, Mingyu chuckled softly. "Like what you see?" he teased, a playful twinkle in his eyes.
You blushed slightly, feeling caught off guard by his remark. "Um, I was just admiring the clothes," you replied, trying to hide your embarrassment.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, how about I model them for you?" he suggested, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
You couldn't help but laugh at his suggestion, the tension melting away as you relaxed into the playful banter. "Like a parade?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.
Mingyu nodded eagerly, already reaching for one of the bags. "Exactly!" he exclaimed, his excitement contagious.
As he began to try on the new clothes, you couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation. It was like watching a fashion show, with Mingyu as the star of the runway.
With each new outfit he tried on, you couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he pulled off each look. From casual jeans and a t-shirt to a sleek button-down shirt, he looked absolutely stunning in everything he wore.
s you walked towards him with the silver chain in hand, Mingyu watched you with a curious expression, his eyes following your every move. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you as you approached, a strange tension building between the two of you.
With a slight frown of concentration, you struggled to fasten the chain around his neck, your fingers fumbling with the clasp as you tried to maneuver it into place. Mingyu stood patiently, his eyes fixed on you as you teetered on the tips of your toes, trying to reach him.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you managed to secure the chain around his neck, the silver gleaming against his dark shirt. As you took a step back, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through you. It was the closest you had ever been to Mingyu since he appeared in your life.
Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you met Mingyu's gaze with a shy smile. "There you go,"
Mingyu glanced at himself in the mirror, adjusting the silver chain around his neck before walking over to you with a grateful smile.
"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes meeting yours with warmth and sincerity. "You didn't have to do all this for me."
You returned his smile, shaking your head. "It's the least I could do," you replied, your tone light. "After all, you didn't exactly ask to be summoned," you added, making air quotes with your fingers for emphasis.
Mingyu chuckled, the sound warm and melodious. "I suppose you have a point there," he conceded, a playful glint in his eyes. "But I'm certainly not complaining about it."
"Hmm, Mingyu, do you want to hang out?" you asked, a smile playing at the corners of your lips.
Mingyu frowned slightly, looking at you with curiosity. "Where?" he inquired, his tone tinged with uncertainty.
You grinned, feeling a rush of excitement at the prospect of showing Mingyu a good time. "Just wait here, I'll get ready," you replied, hurrying off to your room to change.
It was Friday night, and you were used to spending it with your friends, going out and having a good time. And what better way to show Mingyu a bit of the city than to take him out with you?
You turned around to find Mingyu standing in your bedroom, his eyes lingering on your black dress and the silver chain adorning your neck. His gaze was filled with curiosity as he took in your appearance.
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his eyes. "Well, what do you think?" you asked, a hint of playfulness in your voice.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at his lips. "Are we matching tonight?" he teased, gesturing to his own black shirt and jeans.
You chuckled, feeling a warmth spread through you at his playful banter. "I guess we are," you replied, a smile dancing in your eyes.
Mingyu's eyes softened, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "You look beautiful," he said softly, his words filled with sincerity.
A blush crept up your cheeks at his compliment, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness at his words. "Thank you," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
As you entered the bustling club with Mingyu by your side, the loud music and flashing lights engulfed you both. Mingyu seemed to take it all in stride, moving through the crowd with an ease that suggested he was no stranger to such environments.
You couldn't help but notice the curious glances directed at him as you made your way to the bar. Tall, charismatic, and undeniably handsome, Mingyu certainly attracted attention wherever he went. You couldn't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you had such a captivating companion by your side.
Taking a seat at the bar, you turned to Mingyu with a smile. "What'll it be?" you asked, raising your voice slightly to be heard over the music.
Mingyu glanced at you, a playful glint in his eyes. "Surprise me," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement.
You grinned, turning to the bartender to place your order, as you waited for your drinks to arrive.
As Mingyu glanced around the crowded club, his eyes filled with curiosity, he turned to you with a thoughtful expression.
"Hey, do boyfriend and girlfriend usually come to places like this?" he asked, his voice slightly raised to be heard over the music.
You paused for a moment, considering his question carefully. Did Mingyu see the two of you as boyfriend and girlfriend? The thought sent a flutter of excitement through you, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions.
"Well, sometimes," you replied, choosing your words carefully. "Couples come here to have fun and let loose together."
Mingyu nodded thoughtfully, his gaze lingering on yours. "So, are we... like that?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.
You felt your heart skip a beat at his question, the possibility of being more than just friends with Mingyu sending a thrill through you. But you didn't want to assume anything without knowing how he felt.
"I'm not sure," you admitted honestly, meeting his gaze with sincerity. "What do you think?"
"Well, you wrote in your wishbook that you wanted a boyfriend," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
Your eyes widened in surprise, realization dawning on you. "Oh, right," you said, a hint of embarrassment creeping into your voice. "I guess I did, didn't I?"
Mingyu shrugged, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I guess I just wanted to understand," he admitted. "To see if... if maybe I could be that person for you."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his playful tone. "I suppose you are," you admitted, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought.
After a moment of silence, you couldn't help but ask the question that had been nagging at the back of your mind. "Am I even your type?" you blurted out, unable to contain your curiosity any longer.
Mingyu's eyes traveled over you, his gaze intense as he took in your appearance. He seemed to be studying you, his expression unreadable.
You held your breath, waiting for his response, unsure of what to expect. The tension between you was palpable, as you waited for Mingyu's answer.
He bit his lip, a gesture that sent a wave of heat coursing through you. "You're exactly my type…" he replied, his voice husky.
"Is that so?" you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock skepticism. "Well, you'll have to work harder than that to win me over."
Mingyu chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Oh, I plan to," he replied, his voice dripping with confidence. "After all, I'm everything you wanted, right?"
You couldn't help but shake your head at his boldness, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through you at the prospect of what the night might hold.
"Maybe," you replied with a grin, unable to resist the playful banter. "But I'll believe it when I see it."
Mingyu leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered softly, sending shivers down your spine. "I read the last pages of your wishbook," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "And let me tell you, I can definitely make all your wildest dreams come true."
And in minutes, everything happened.
You found yourself naked on your couch, your body laid bare before Mingyu, who gazed at you with desire in his eyes. Your legs were spread wide, draped over his shoulders as he knelt before you, his hands trailing over your skin with a gentle touch.
As you held your wish book in your hand, Mingyu's voice broke through the silence, his tone teasing yet filled with curiosity. "So, what's your first wish?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours.
You felt your cheeks flush with heat, embarrassment flooding through you at the thought of revealing your innermost desires. But with Mingyu's gaze burning into you, you couldn't hold back.
"I... I wished for a guy who could make me cum on his tongue," you stuttered, your voice barely above a whisper.
Mingyu's eyes darkened with desire at your words, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.
As Mingyu's tongue licked a slow, deliberate stripe along your folds, a shiver of pleasure shot through your body, leaving you trembling. You gripped the wish book tightly in one hand, your nails digging into the pages as Mingyu's mouth worked its magic on you. "Oh fuck, Mingyu!"
With each flick of his tongue against your clit, you felt yourself unraveling. His arms wrapped around you, holding you steady as you writhed and moaned, unable to control the flood of pleasure coursing through you.
Your other hand tangled in Mingyu's locks, pulling him closer as he continued to devour your pussy. His tongue swirled around your bud, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you in relentless waves.
You moaned his name over and over, the sound filling the air as Mingyu's tongue drove you closer and closer to the edge. You felt yourself dripping with arousal, the combination of Mingyu's saliva and your own juices coating the couch beneath you.
As Mingyu's tongue penetrated slightly into your pussy, a gasp escaped your lips, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body. You looked at him with wide eyes, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to form coherent words.
"What... what are you doing?" you managed to gasp out, your voice laced with desire and anticipation.
But before you could even finish your question, Mingyu's tongue penetrated you again, sending a shock shooting through your body. Your legs shook on his arms, your whole body trembling with need.
"Oh Mingyu, that feels so good" you moaned, your voice filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.
Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he continued to pleasure you with his tongue, his movements becoming faster. He sucked on your clit, flicking it with his tongue before diving deep inside you once again, driving you to the brink of orgasm with each tantalizing stroke.
As you held onto Mingyu's locks tighter, he moaned in response, the vibrations sending a surge of pleasure on your pussy. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of your orgasm, your body trembling pathetically.
"I'm... I'm cumming," you gasped, your voice strained with the effort of holding back your release.
Mingyu looked up at you, his eyes dark as he asked, "Are you going to cum on my tongue, just like you wished for?"
You nodded desperately, your whole body tensing with anticipation as you felt the waves of pleasure building inside you. The wishbook slipped from your grasp, completely forgotten as Mingyu's tongue continued to lap your clit.
"Yes," you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, just like that."
And with a final flick of his tongue against your clit, Mingyu pushed you over the edge, making you come undone, riding his face to ride your orgasm, your mind clouded with the intensity of your orgasm.
As Mingyu got up, holding the forgotten wishbook in his hands, he turned to you with a curious expression. "Let's see what your next wish is," he said, his voice tinged with excitement.
Your hands, still trembling from the recent orgasm, reached out to take the wishbook from him. You flipped through the pages until you found the next wish, your heart racing.
And as you read the words on the page, your cheeks flushed with heat at the explicit nature of the wish. It was about a guy who didn't go easy on you, who took control and pushed you to your limits.
You looked up at Mingyu, your eyes filled with apprehension. "Is... is this something you can do?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he met your gaze. "I can do whatever you want," he replied.
As Mingyu lowered his pants, revealing his big, throbbing cock, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. It was something you had written in your wishbook — a cock that fulfills you — but you hadn't expected it to be quite so... big.
His cock laid heavy in his hand as he stroked himself, the slick sound of precum making itself known with each movement. You felt your cheeks flush red as you watched.
"It... it won't fit," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you met Mingyu's gaze.
Mingyu chuckled softly, "Don't worry," he reassured you. "I'll make it fit."
As Mingyu laid you down comfortably, spreading you wider, you couldn't help but feel embarrassed. His cock slid against your pussy, teasing but not yet penetrating, and you squirmed beneath him, feeling yourself growing wetter.
You almost covered your face in shame, feeling exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze. But Mingyu's teasing words only served to fuel the fire burning within you.
"That's all you wanted, isn't it?" he teased, his voice laced with desire as he looked into your eyes. "A guy with a big cock to fuck your brains out? Well, lucky for you, I'm here, hm?"
His words sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, and you couldn't help but arch your hips, silently urging him to take you.
You wanted nothing more than to feel him deep inside you, filling you completely and making you cum.
As Mingyu continued to tease you, he remarked on your hectic work schedule. "You work so hard," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "You need someone to take all that stress out of you."
His words hit home, resonating with the part of you that longed for release, both physically and emotionally.
You couldn't deny the truth in his words; after all, you had spent so long shouldering the weight of your responsibilities alone.
As Mingyu's cock teased against your clit, the friction making you roll your eyes, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. Every movement, every touch drove you closer and closer to the brink, your senses overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.
And just when you thought you couldn't take it anymore, when you felt yourself on the verge of exploding with pleasure, Mingyu slammed his hard cock inside of your cunt with a force that took your breath away. Your pussy stretched around him, so tight and so full, that you could barely contain the overwhelming sensation.
As you arched your back in pleasure, the sensation of Mingyu's cock buried deep inside you driving you to new heights of ecstasy, he teased you mercilessly.
"I'm still," he murmured between moans "You're almost cumming."
Your pussy clenched around him with each tantalizing movement. Mingyu's cock felt impossibly hard and thick inside you, stretching you to your limits as he held himself still, savoring the exquisite torture of denying you release.
He put your knees on your chest and started pounding inside of you, hitting that spongy spot dead-on with the first thrust. You screamed in your living room, rolling your eyes back as you tremble.
No mercy, just like you wanted.
Mingyu looked at your pleasured face, making sure he was hitting all the right spots to drive you wild. And judging by the way you were moaning and writhing beneath him, he was definitely doing something right.
"You're so wet for me," his voice dripped with lust. "You can't get enough of my cock, can you? You want me to fuck you harder, hm?"
You nodded eagerly, unable to form words.
As Mingyu pounded into you harder, your body tensed, your abdomen trembling as you felt the orgasm approaching. He bit his lip, holding back his moans as your walls spasmed around him, indicating your impending climax.
You gripped the couch tightly, your nails digging into the fabric as pleasure washed over you. But no matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed to relieve the overwhelming sensation building inside you.
And then it hit you, you came, hard and fast, your orgasm ripping through you as you spasmed uncontrollably beneath Mingyu.
You came on him, on the couch, on his cock, unable to contain the pleasure coursing through you. And as Mingyu watched you cumming in a matter of minutes, a proud moan escaped his lips, his eyes filled with satisfaction at having brought you so much pleasure.
As Mingyu held your legs to the sides, spreading you open and angling his cock in a way that his pelvis rubbed against your clit, you squirmed helplessly beneath him. Every movement sent jolts of oversensitivity coursing through your body, and you cried out in pleasure and desperation.
But Mingyu held firm, his gaze locked with yours as he reminded you of your wish for him not to take it easy on you. "You wanted this," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You wanted me to push you to your limits."
You whimpered in response, the sensation of his cock rubbing against your clit driving you to the brink of insanity. "I can't take it," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper. "I can't take it anymore."
But Mingyu only moaned in response, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm as he continued to tease and torment you. "You'll need to take it," he whispered, and you moan satisfied that he didn't stopped.
"Just a little more," he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "You're almost there, baby. Just hold on..."
As you held Mingyu's neck, drawing him closer to you for another kiss, you found yourself lost in the intoxicating sensation of his lips against yours. But with each moan that escaped your lips, it became increasingly difficult to maintain the kiss, the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body making it impossible to focus on anything else.
Mingyu noticed your struggle, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he watched you writhe beneath him. His face contorted in pleasure, mirroring the ecstasy written all over yours, as your walls pulsed and contracted around him with each thrust.
As you trembled beneath Mingyu, tears slipping from your eyes, he kissed your face gently, his lips tracing a path of comfort and reassurance.
"I'm cumming for you," he murmured, his voice soothing and gentle as he tried to calm your racing heart.
But your chest rose and fell in erratic waves, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you closed your eyes tightly, desperate to hold on just a little longer. And then it happened, a silent moan escaping your lips as your body tensed and your pleasure blinded all of your senses.
You came again, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that left you gasping for air, your entire body trembling with the intensity of it all. And as Mingyu watched in awe, unable to hold back his own release any longer, he let out a surprised moan of pleasure, his own orgasm crashing over him.
As Mingyu's warm cum filled your cunt, mingling with your own juices, you let out a contented sigh, feeling completely spent and satisfied.
Feeling utterly relaxed, you laid your head back on the couch, letting out a deep breath as you allowed yourself to bask in the afterglow of your orgasm. The tension in your neck melted away as you finally allowed yourself to relax.
"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern as he looked down at you.
You nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I'm good," you replied, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.
Mingyu leaned in closer, his eyes searching yours as he spoke. "That was... so good," he said, his voice filled with awe. "I've never felt anything like that before."
You chuckled softly, feeling a sense of pride swell within you. "Yeah, me neither," you admitted, feeling a warm glow of satisfaction spread through your body.
You chuckled softly, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at his words. "Who knew that silly wishbook would actually work?" you remarked, shaking your head in disbelief.
Mingyu leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. "Well, I'm here now, and I don't plan on going anywhere," he said, his voice filled with sincerity.
#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen#seventeen reactions#seventeen fluff#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt imagines#mingyu smut#mingyu x reader#kim mingyu#svt#seventeen fanfic#mingyu fluff#mingyu imagines#mingyu scenarios#mingyu drabbles#mingyu sub#kim mingyu x reader#kim mingyu smut#kim mingyu fluff#kim mingyu imagines#kim mingyu x you#mingyu x you#mingyu x y/n#kim mingyu x y/n#mingyu angst#mingyu dom
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It's still interesting that TBoB called more attention to Stan's control over his mindscape (And if you go with the interpretation that the lost pages are partial truths that are heavily influenced by Bill, then he's the one insisting that only someone with training should be able to have that much control over the mind.)
Meanwhile we have a memory!Stan. Someone who apparently knows too much and is rather aware for being a simple memory.
From the Wheel of Shame, we know Bill was able dig up all kinds of dirt on Stan but... that wasn't why he was there in the first place, was it?
Bill couldn't find the code immediately despite a memory of Stan opening the safe being a few hours old at most and decided to have Mabel try find it for him (The original concept of the ep had it far more hidden but this was likely cut because of time constraints)
Ford did experiments on Stan's mind which likely meant using Project Mentem and actually looking around his mindscape, and his only reaction was to comment on his jokes-- despite what little we the audience know being enough to render us sobbing wrecks
(yes I refuse to shut up about this part cos the book's intro is extremely underrated)
Stan was able to replace his memories of Ford with the swingset instead and managed to hide Ford in his Bar Mitzvah memory. And that's not even mentioning the lack of visible Portal and Stan o' War which noticeably show up in Ford's dreamscape (the broken swingset manifesting anyway pains me tho)
He subconsciously has misdirects for his secrets that are both silly and manages to disturb everyone too
And while Bill-as-Soos being bored by the vending machine memory is a joke that's basically the crew's way of going "hey remember the thing way back in the first ep that's going to show up in the next one?" and in-universe appears to be Stan slipping up, it's interesting that they had Stan input the wrong code when it's consistent literally every other time its inputted (especially when it shows up correctly in the very next episode)
It's even possible that the safe code that Bill found could have been a misdirect too but we'll never know since the safe got blown open by dynamite.
Stan was able to buy time by making his mind blank despite being genuinely terrified when Bill enters his mind (to the point that he breaks character and uses his own voice to yell), and could conjure up his living room (in colour opposed to his mind's regular greyscale) to make sure Bill didn't have enough room to flee, slamming the door in his face before the effects of the memory gun kicked in.
(EDIT: Random door analysis here)
And maybe the twins eventually told him that Bill had already been inside his mind after their W3 reunion, but all we know was that his conscious self was left in the dark for ages and wasn't really aware of Bill until Weirdmageddon.
TBoB showing McGucket's dreamscape also brings up the idea of the effects of the memory gun manifesting differently to each person. To Stan's mindscape, the memory wipe manifests as blue flames which immediately brings to mind Bill's powers but it's a far lighter shade (maybe to more closely match the memory gun and its eventual fade to white?)
The end of TBoB and the website poem also firmly reminds us about Stan's connection to fire but there's also the question if Stan himself is actually aware of it...
#but also j3 having ford read dipper's entries post dd&md but not having him know about the kids' encounters with bill is so kashdskahd#cos that implies he immediately skipped the pages that mentioned stan 😭and didn't read mabel's entries#oh for him to actually react to dipper's observations about stan's mindscape....#stan pines#stanley pines#bill cipher#gravity falls#gf meta#yes of course my brain is still going ' same coin theory ooooo' at this#cos i doubt that j1 has any mention of the mindscape and it's not like stan would have studied this stuff#imagine iconic hippy hater actually mediating on purpose#i'm still waving my arms about stan potentially seeing the reader's version of tbob tho#but even if that ain't the case bill having a breakdown from him reading him like a book is still iconic#dunno if this is coherent and i'm pretty sure all this stuff is things most folks know but idk some people didn't read the journal#some folks don't know about the poem!!!! truly the biggest tragedy
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truth part 2 | rc
pairing: bsf!rafe x reader
summary: rafe finds out about sofia’s betrayal, and tries to come back and apologize for his previous words
part 1
warnings: swearing, angst, unhappy ending lol
wc: 1.8k
a/n: thank you SO MUCH to everyone that showed love on the first part😭 i appreciate it so so so much!! i kept this one pretty angsty because i think we all wanted to see rafe not be forgiven! so it is open ended for a part 3 👀 if you guys wanna see it! lots of love 🫶🏻
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘
You were sitting on your wraparound balcony, book in your hand as you felt the sun warming your bare skin. It was another beautiful day out, and you wanted to take advantage. Your sunglasses perched on the bridge of your nose as your eyes scanned the novel in front of you.
You were taken out of a trance when you heard a commotion going on nearby. It sounded like it was coming from the Cameron house, which sat next to yours. Sofia had been staying in it, so you've heard, despite Rafe being in Morocco. You placed your bookmark between the pages, setting it down before rising to your feet. You walked to the edge of the balcony, placing your hands on the railing to lean over it slightly.
You saw Sofia, walking outside with a suitcase dragging behind her. What was she doing? She went in and out a few times, each time returning with various different items that all must have belonged to her. You wanted to ask her what was going on, if it had anything to do with Rafe. You hadn't spoken to him since the fight you got into at his house, and he was gone now. In Morocco doing god knows what with the Pogues. You didn't care anymore.
A car pulled up in front of the intimidating large property, Sofia disappearing inside of it as it drove away. The house was empty now. The house you spent years walking over to, sleeping at, drinking at, now sat there vacant. Simple as that. Everyone gone. You reflected on how quickly things change, how easy it is for everything to fall apart so quickly. You had cried about your conversation with Rafe after it happened, but since that night you hadn't shed a tear. You loathed him for what he said to you, for blaming his own emotional damage on you. You had always supported him, been there for him even when he was a complete mess. Goes to show none of it mattered in the end, anyway. You didn't know when he would return, and you couldn't be bothered to try and find out.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ ⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘
Rafe busted through the front door of his house, being met with nothing but deafening silence. The air sat heavy around him. It was just...empty. Sofia had actually left. He knew he told her to, but he was hoping deep down that he had been wrong. Maybe she'd stay and tell him Groff was full of shit. Her absence was confirmation that you had been right all along. He accused you of lying, of jealousy, and now he was eating his words.
"Fuck!" he yelled, slamming his fist on the counter in front of him, dropping his head in his hands. Everything was ruined. His friendship with you, his relationship, the deal. Everything slipped through his fingers so quickly, he couldn't keep up.
He decided he needed to talk to you, to see you again. He didn't want to admit it, but he missed you. When he was in Morocco, all he could think of was you. He was too proud to admit that, though.
"Please be home," he muttered under his breath as he turned back around and out the front door.
He walked up to the entrance of your home, banging his fist on the door loudly. He continued repeatedly until you finally swung the door open.
Your eyes met his, fighting to hold back a gasp. You weren't sure you would ever see him again, and here he was. He looked anxious, his eyebrows furrowing and his gaze roaming all over the place. His fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly as he looked at the floor.
"You were right," he practically whispered, his stare remaining off of you.
"What was that?" you asked, cupping your hand to your ear. You heard him, you just wanted to hear him say it louder.
"I said you were right, okay? About Sofia," he admitted. "She took the money from Hollis and convinced me to take the deal. I kicked her out, we're done."
You had to admit the words were good to hear. You already knew you were right, but it felt good to hear him admit it. You were starting to wonder if the truth would ever come out, or if Sofia would just keep going on like everything was fine. Rafe almost never admitted when someone else was in the right. It wasn't that easy, though. He had a lot more to admit wrong than just not believing you. Sofia wasn't even the issue anymore.
"Great," you said sharply, starting to shut the door. He stuck his arm out, holding it open.
"I said you were right, y/n," he repeated. "I should have believed you."
"Good for you," you said dryly. "I told you not to come crying to me when she fucked you over. That remains true."
Rafe let out a long sigh, frustrated at how difficult you were being. In the past, a simple apology would make everything go back to normal. Clearly, that wasn't going to be how it goes this time. He knew you could be stubborn, and it drove him insane. His arm remained extended, stopping the door from shutting. He saw movement going on behind you, and craned his neck to get a better view.
"What's going on?" Topper asked, appearing behind you.
Topper had dropped by this morning to bring you breakfast. You hadn't asked him to. You think maybe he felt bad for you, pitied you. You were alone in a big house, your family gone. Rafe was gone. You didn't need his cheering up, though, you were perfectly happy on your own.
Being alone for so long allowed you to be comfortable and even content in your own presence. You liked the quiet mornings, the long walks, and never having to ask anyone for anything.
"You-," Rafe stuttered. "You're hanging out with Topper?"
"And?" you asked, your jaw set as you blankly stared at him.
"You don't even like Topper," he whispered harshly, leaning towards you.
"Says who?" you said. "You don't know me anymore, Rafe."
He scoffed and took a step back from the door. He took a deep breath before speaking, knowing that maybe he should think a little bit more before he speaks.
He wasn't wrong, you didn't like Topper. He was arrogant and honestly kind of a baby most of the time. He was always whining about Sarah, or John B and it was getting old. You had been spending too much time alone, though. You knew people were talking. People were always talking. Hanging out with Topper would put out a good word, and he'd tell people you're fine. Maybe then people would stop asking. There wasn't anything going on other than friendship, but you didn't mind the company here and there.
"Are you just trying to make me jealous?" Rafe asked, his eyes finally fully meeting yours, reaching you.
"Are you serious, Rafe? Again?" you asked. You took a step outside, pulling the door shut behind you. You didn't want him in your home, especially not with Topper there.
Topper probably thrived on the drama, probably couldn't wait to go run to the other kooks and tell them Rafe showed up at your door. That aside, you had to give him a piece of your mind at this point.
"I am serious, y/n!" he exclaimed.
"Rafe, when will it get through your brain that not every decision I make is about you?" you asked. "Are you seriously so selfish and self absorbed that you think every move I make has to do with you?"
Rafe's mouth stayed slightly agape, his feet pacing back and forth on your walkway. He ran his hands over his head, his jaw clenching. His brain was going a mile a minute, and he couldn't find the words anymore. He was overcome with emotions, unable to regulate them.
"Do you not remember what you said to me, Rafe?" you asked, your voice raising.
"I'm sorry, okay?" he said. "I was an asshole, and I should have believed you about Sofia. I shouldn't have said those things."
"What did you say again?" you asked, taking a step closer to him, your head held high. You would not back down this time. You wouldn't let him get away with it.
You tapped your chin with your index finger, looking upwards acting like you were trying to remember his words. "Oh yeah, that all I do is fuck with your head? That I want attention? That I use you for my benefit? That I'm a jealous liar? I almost forgot."
Rafe went to speak, but you cut him off again, immediately.
"Oh and I almost forgot," you sneered, sarcasm dropping from your voice. "That all your problems are because of me?"
"Y/n," he breathed, taking a visibly deep breath.
"Don't even say anything, Rafe," you said, putting your hand up to stop him from speaking. "If I ruin your life so much, and mess with your head, I don't need to be part of it. I'll live my life, and you live yours. You can do whatever you want, I don't care."
"I care, y/n!" Rafe exclaimed. "I didn't mean those things I-I was just angry. You know I can say stupid shit when I get mad."
"You can't just say awful things and take them back," you explained. "That's not how this works. You don't get to hurt me and then show up at my door thinking I'll forgive you because you 'didn't mean it'."
“Y/n, please,” Rafe begs, his eyes turning glossy. “You have to forgive me, I need you in my life.”
“Clearly you don’t, Rafe,” you sneered. “You told me otherwise, actually.”
“You can’t do this to me!” he said angrily, his emotions brewing and threatening to spill over. He hated when he yelled at you, but he was so frustrated. “Don’t do this.”
You couldn’t ignore the twist in your heart at the tears in his eyes. Usually you would fold, but you were determined this time. He hurt you, more than he ever had. You couldn’t let him off that easily. You were doing fine without him.
“I have to go,” you said, looking back to your house looming behind you. “Bye Rafe.”
“Please,” he repeated, his voice barely over a whisper. You closed the door, leaving him standing alone on your front lawn, exactly as he had done to you.
You still hadn’t decided if revenge was the best medicine, but it was the only way for him to listen. To truly listen. If he really cared about you, he would come back with a real apology, not excuses.
Rafe stood wide eyed, staring blankly in front of him. He bit his lip, the back of his throat burning as he tried to hold back tears. He hadn’t meant for things to happen this way.
You were all he had, the only person who really cared about him, and who he cared about. Now you were gone, and it was all his fault.
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