#I feel like my parents were the ONLY people who ever said anything about that

[pomefioredove]

Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…

So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse

Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good

Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!

ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3

summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it

Jamil Viper

Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.

That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.

Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.

It's a bit strange, isn't it?

Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.

He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.

But that sense of unease doesn't go away.

He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.

And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.

"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."

You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.

"Thank you," you mumble.

You can't think of anything else to say.

"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.

"I'm fine,"

Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.

"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.

"I've... had a rough day,"

Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"

He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.

"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."

You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"

It.

What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.

"Did something happen?"

You hesitate.

"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"

Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.

He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.

But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.

"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"

"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."

He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.

He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.

"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"

Unlike me, he thinks.

"How can you be so sure?"

"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"

Like me.

You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.

A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Thank you, Jamil,"

He hugs back. "Of course,"

Ruggie Bucchi

It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.

You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.

Ruggie included.

He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.

He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.

And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.

Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?

He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.

Sigh.

"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.

Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"

"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."

The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.

"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.

"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"

You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.

You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"

"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."

The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"

"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"

Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.

"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"

"Did you find it?"

"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"

You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.

After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"

"What?"

"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"

You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.

Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"

"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"

"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"

He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"

"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"

You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.

And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.

He struggles to respond for a moment.

"That's rough,"

Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.

"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."

"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."

He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"

The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.

"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.

Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...

But that didn't bother him. Not at all.

As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.

That plan lasts about five hours.

"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"

That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.

And it's getting closer.

"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."

Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.

"I'm trying,"

This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.

"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"

Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.

He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.

"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."

"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"

This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.

You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"

"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"

"This is-"

"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.

"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"

Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"

"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."

You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?

"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.

"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"

"Your... offer...?"

Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"

"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"

He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."

Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.

"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."

Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"

"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."

"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.

As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"

"Are you alright?" he asks.

Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"

"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"

"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"

Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.

"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"

You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"

"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"

He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"

Floyd Leech

Of course, he can tell something's up right away.

Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.

His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?

Now this catches his attention.

"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.

"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."

"But you're not,"

"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"

Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.

"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.

You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"

"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"

Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.

"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"

"Why?"

There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.

"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"

He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"

"FLOYD!"

He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.

When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.

"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."

You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"

"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.

Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"

"Are they ill?"

You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"

"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"

Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"

"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.

Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.

"Now will you tell me?"

"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"

Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"

"Tell me about it,"

"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"

You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"

"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."

"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.

His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"

His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"

"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"

"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"

His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.

You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"

"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"

You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"

Rollo Flamme

Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.

The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.

The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?

They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.

He loathed being talked down to.

Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.

And now you're just quiet.

"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

You shrug.

"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"

No response at all.

Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.

"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"

"No,"

A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.

"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"

That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"

He struggles for the right words.

How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.

Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.

Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?

He couldn't quite come up with an answer.

"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."

"It's not your fault,"

"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"

A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.

"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.

Another pause.

"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jamil viper x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #floyd leech x reader #rollo flamme x reader #can't believe this is the first time I've written for rollo on this blog... bby I've missed u

[elisysd]

12. Don't give me up, cause what about, what about angels

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: What About Angels - Birdy

Charles saw you tensing after your mother’s cold greeting. He hated how you flinched as she was reminding you that being late was disrespectful towards your dad’s special day, that being away from home and in a big city had made you lose sight of the values they had taught you. But he hated even more how you simply smiled and apologized. He needed all his self control to not take your side, he knew how anxious this whole situation was making you feel, he didn’t want to make it worse by saying something he knew wouldn’t be well received.

The first thing he noticed in the house’s hall was the amount of family pictures, but instead of four people on them were only three. He recognised your mom, assumed the man beside her was your dad and when he thought he would notice you, it was instead your little brother. He couldn't be wrong, he looked exactly like you. The pictures were cut in a certain way that didn’t take him a long time to understand that you had been cut out of them. He felt a wave of rage hitting him. Why make you come here if your parents had gone to such an extent as to erase every trace of your existence? It was a twisted joke.

“You don’t even call anymore, Y/N. I knew it would happen, I’ve always said that being in a world full of sparks and empty promises would change you. You’re too gullible. You don’t even have time for your own family anymore. Not that you ever had.”

“You’ve never tried to ask questions about my job…” you mumbled as Charles put a comforting hand on your hip.

“I don’t need to. I know exactly what you do, you’re the talk of the town. The small town girl made it to the TV. There is no reason to be proud, playing a pretty face on tv… that is not what I raised you to be. And now you’re associating yourself with fair-weather friends…” she said, darting judgmental eyes on Charles. “I know exactly who you are.”

He didn’t have the time to reply as your dad entered the room and sat on the chair without a word. You sat too, Charles close to you as your mom joined your dad’s side. 

“How nice it is to finally see you alive.” he said, making you gulp.

“I’m Charles, your daughter’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” he introduced himself in a desperate attempt to drive the conversation away from you and the relieved sigh you let out made him think that you appreciated it. 

Lunch was awkward, punctuated with snarky comments here and there that you tried your best to ignore. Charles was trying to do the same but it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his calm. But it was when cake was brought that resentment and unspoken words finally came out in the open. You had taken your phone out of your pocket, wanting to show your parents all the beautiful landscapes you had the chance to witness. 

“Aren’t you ashamed?” your mom muttered.

“Why?” you turned your head to look at her in disbelief.

“Ashamed of following the sport that killed your brother. Ashamed of being with the man responsible for his death.” she sternly said.

You felt like a million daggers stabbing your heart all at once. You took a deep breath, putting your hand on his thigh, squeezing it lightly to indicate to him  not to react. It was something you had to do alone.

“F1 and Charles didn’t kill Luc, it was his leukemia, not anything else.” you replied, feeling a lump in your throat.

“If you had not introduced your brother to that stupid sport, he wouldn’t have been a fan and his illness wouldn't have turned that bad so quickly. He wasn’t talking about anything else than that sport and you. Until his very last breath. His last words were about Formula 1. It took my baby away from me and this is your fault. Both of you.” she finished, turning to Charles this time.

“If I can add something… I know I have no right to comment on this situation but even if I understand your pain, Y/N is not the one to blame. She…” Charles started, quickly shutted up by your dad.

“You’re right, you have no right to say a  thing. You don’t know what it is like to lose a son.”

“Maybe I don’t, yeah. But I know exactly what it feels like to lose a parent. I understand your pain. Truly. But with all due respect, you’ve already lost a son, you should be more careful to not lose a daughter by pushing her away and making her feel like a stranger in her own family.”

“We’ve already lost her the minute she decided to not show up at the funeral.” your mom spitted, making you close your eyes, trying to not cry. You wouldn’t give that pleasure to your parents.

“I think it’s best if we leave. It was a bad idea to come here, anyway.” you ended up saying, standing up, Charles following you. “You shouldn’t have invited me in the first place, if it was to treat me that way.”

You took Charles’ hand in yours and dragged him out of what had been once your safe place. Without a word you made your way to his car and rushed inside and it was only when the door was closed and that he had taken place behind the wheel that you broke down. He didn’t hesitate to pull you on his lap and let you cry on his shoulder, holding you tight.

“It’s okay, babe… you’re okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to feel bad, you have nothing to feel bad about. If you were believing your mom’s lies, I understand why you were so mean to me at the beginning now.”

“She is not entirely wrong, you know.” you sniffed in his neck. “At least about one thing, I should’ve been there for Luc’s funeral. But it was too hard for me. I didn’t want to face the fact that I would never see him again. I didn’t want to make the nightmare I was in real. because if I was going, it would happen exactly that. It would have made the pain real and permanent. I couldn’t.”

You put your forehead against his, trying to find a way to ground you. Charles drew small patterns on your hips, comforting you the best he could. 

“Let’s get some fresh air, okay?” he whispered against your ear.

You got out of the car and hand in hand you started to wander the streets of your childhood, telling him anecdotes and facts of any buildings and streets you were walking on and seeing.

“Tell me about Luc.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Everything. Whatever you want. Whatever you feel comfortable sharing with me.”

“He was passionate. About many things. History and art mostly. He wanted to work in a museum. And passionate about F1 of course. He knew a lot of mechanical stuff, more than I did. He taught me as much as I did, I swear. Maybe more. I was spending my weekends at the hospital with him to watch the races. When he was hospitalized, it was what kept him going. It was our thing, you know. Wait, I think I have a picture to show you.”

She took a photo out of her wallet and gave it to him. If he didn’t know it was a hospital room, he would have had a hard time guessing it. Everywhere were Ferrari and monegasque flags as well as a lot of merch. He was recognising one of his caps on the bedside table. Posters of his podiums were hung on the walls, his Monza’s win right above Luc’s head. Small replicas of his trophies were there too as well as miniatures of his helmets.

“A real fan.” he smiled.

“The best.” you sighed. “ You don’t know how happy he was when you won in Monza. It brought so much joy in his life. Even if it wasn’t for long. It was a tough time, he had just started to get hospitalized, he was very sick and pale and the shell of what he once was. And suddenly, he was feeling a little more alive. Because of you. Then, time went by and I had to leave for New York. It was the toughest decision I had to make in my life. At some point I was ready to take a year off so I could be with him…” 

“What made you change your mind?”

“Him. With time my dream became his. He wouldn’t have forgiven me if I was giving it all up because he was sick. He was talking about how amazing it would be if I was interviewing you. I bet he is the happiest up there.” you smiled, looking up. “One of his dreams was to meet you.”

“Maybe it is not too late?” Charles hesitantly said and you looked at him curiously. “Is he buried here?”

You nodded and he felt you stiffened.

“I've never been on his grave.” you confessed after a moment of silence. “It’s too hard and too painful to go there alone.”

“Good thing you’re not alone anymore, then.”

As you were making your way to the graveyard, Charles had to hold you closer to his chest with each step you were taking. You sobs were getting louder and your legs were shakier. It was breaking his heart, trying to see how much you were trying to keep it together.

When you finally reached the grave, at the back end of the graveyard, you fell on your knees in front of the black grave. Luc hated black. A black and white picture of him was also in the middle of the gravestone. It made you shiver. It was well kept, your parents were coming often. The lump in your throat had not gone away in the slightest, it was even bigger now, making you choke up on your own saliva. Charles wanted to hold you, wanted to get you out of here. The emotional devastation you were in was making him want to join you on the ground and cry with you. But he also knew you needed it. It was the closure you needed to move forward. He took a few steps away, giving you privacy.

“I’m so sorry, Luc. So sorry. Sorry about how I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, sorry to have let you down, sorry to not have stepped up and measured up when I should have, sorry to not have been the sister you deserved. There is not a day that goes by when I don’t regret not being by your side. There are so many things that I should have done differently, so many things that I feel guilty about but none of them compare to how guilty I feel to not have said goodbye. I acted like a coward and I know how much you felt scared about dying. And how I promised you I would hold your hand until the end. I didn’t. I chickened out and I failed you. If I could go back in time, I would, just so I could look into your eyes one last time and hold your hand tight. I wouldn’t hesitate. I would trade anything for one last smile of yours. I hope you can forgive me, I sure can’t do that alone. But despite everything I’m happy and I’m not sure I should be. I fell in love and you would be ecstatic to know who I share my life with. He is supportive and kind and perfect for me. I wish we would have had enough time so you could have met him. But maybe after all, it’s you I should thank. Maybe it’s you who sent Charles on my way. Maybe it is your way of telling me that you are not mad at me. That you want me to be happy. If only you could give me a sign. I just want you to know that everything I do, I do it for you. Because I love you. Forever.”

You felt Charles’ arms around your shoulders as he crouched down beside you.

“Hey, Luc. I know we don’t know each other but your sister talks about you so much that I feel like I already know you. I would have loved to meet you, I know how big of a fan you are of F1. I would have loved to show you around the paddock, maybe I would have let you sit in my car. Anything to make you and your sister smile. You are brave and strong and I have nothing but pure admiration for you. I wish I could have met you. Don’t worry about your sister, I take good care of her and I don’t want to let go of her. I’m here for her for as long as she lets me but I hope it is a forever kind of thing.” he whispered as you looked at him with big and glossy eyes.

He helped you stand up, asked if you were alright and if you wanted to leave. He didn’t mind staying but he wanted to make sure you were alright, the day had been emotionally draining enough. When you nodded, he took you in his arms, engulfing you in his jacket so you weren’t cold and kissed the top of your head as you headed out.

“I’m so proud of you. So proud.” he said as you finally reached his car.

“Thank you. For being there. I don’t think I would have been able to do it alone.”

“You’re the strongest person I know. You would have done it at some point.”

“Did you mean it? What you said up there… About us being forever.” you shyly asked.

“I’m sorry it was not the best time to say it. But to answer you, I do. I’m not kidding, Y/N, I swear I can’t explain it. I don’t know how either but I just know. You’re the love of my life.”

Author's note: In laws meeting incoming... how do you think it will turn out? .

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

If you wanna be part of the taglist, let me know.

Taglist: @itsjustkhaos @thirstylion @cmleitora @charizznorizz @sltwins @boherahpsody @herondalism @roseamongthorns13 @aundercover @snowflakesfluff @fictional-l0v3r @queensassybitchsworld @jehun @reengard @valntynebaby

If you are tagged and do not receive the notifications, please take a look at your settings!

#charles leclerc 16 #formula 1 #writing #fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x oc #charles leclerc fanfic #cl16 #scuderia ferrari #ferrari #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fic #f1 x reader #cl16 x reader #driver x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc

[ravabiye]

did anyone else's parents get, weirdly mad at them for saying "hey" to get people's attention? was that an actual social norm, what happened to it

#autism #social scripts #social conventions #my posts #I feel like my parents were the ONLY people who ever said anything about that #like nobody ever ignored me cause I said hey or anything like that #but then again they also may have just been poor teachers of social norms to an AuDHD kid #like when my mom got mad at me for saying #keep your hair on #and just Did Not explain to me Why it was bad #just violently grabbed my shoulders and yelled at me

[gojorgeous]

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

#gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #satoru #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #vampire gojo #vampire #tw: loss of virginity #tw: yandere #jujustu kaisen #gojo x you #bree's fics!

[aidaronan]

"First movie you ever saw in theaters?" Steve lounged opposite of Robin on the couch in his living room, the stereo on low, spitting out Madonna on the local radio station.

"Oh, that's easy." Robin bit off part of a licorice. "Freaky Friday. I remember because I was terrified for weeks that I'd end up switching places with my mom and have to, like, balance a checkbook or something."

Steve laughed, separating m&ms in his hand. "You still don't know how to balance a checkbook, do you?"

"Like you do." Robin playfully glared at him. "Okay, here's a good one. First kiss."

Steve ate the sole blue m&m first, a grin spreading across his face because he usually lied about his first kiss, but he didn't have to. Not with Robin. "Camp Stronghold when I was nine. We met up in the boathouse after lights out to trade contraband."

"Contraband, huh?" Robin raised her brows.

"Candy. I swear my parents loaded me up like I was going to prison. 'This is as good as cash in there, Steven.' I think my dad wanted me to network or something. Because, you know, I was totally gonna start a small business with a group of eight-year-olds."

Robin snickered. "And the kiss?"

"Ah. I didn't actually want candy. I just wanted this kid to like me so bad, and I didn't know why until we were there in the dark tripping into each other because we couldn't see. I had all these butterflies, and we were standing close enough that I could feel the heat off his sunburn in the air." Steve could still picture it. The way he couldn't see more than a few inches in front of his face. "Then he kissed me, just this quick peck on the lips before he turned tail and ran. I left the boathouse with a Snickers and one massive first crush."

"Did anything else happen?" Robin asked.

"No. It was the last week of camp and I think he freaked himself out over it. I don't know. He didn't even really say bye to me after we climbed off the bus to meet our parents. Never saw him again. I honestly never even thought to get his name."

"That sucks."

"Yeah. I just hope he's doing okay, you know? That he's got people in his life that make him feel like he's allowed."

Robin looked at him softly, reaching out to give his ankle a squeeze. "Hey, you never know. You might run into him again someday. Maybe he's your soulmate or something."

"Please. I think you're pretty obviously my soulmate." Steve nudged Robin with his foot. "But I guess he could settle for 2nd place."

"Oh, there's a toast for sure." Snacks tumbling off her lap, Robin reached for her can of Coke on the coffee table and raised it as high as she could reach. "To both of us finding our 2nd places."

"Cheers to that." Steve thrust his own Coke into the air.

____

It felt like a big cosmic joke that Steve would be in a boathouse when he realized who Eddie Munson had been all that time. Eddie had looked so different when he'd transferred into Hawkins that Steve had never even given him a second look, not during their shared classes, not during any of those cafeteria tirades. Not during the numerous occasions where he gave the kids rides to D&D.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!"

It was the eyes that finally pulled back the curtain and cut away all those in-between years. Steve had never been close enough to clock them, but he couldn't deny them now. Not at such close range, Eddie holding a broken bottle against his neck, trembling with so much fear that Steve worried he might actually use it.

Dropping the oar from his own shaking hands, Steve said the only thing he could think to say.

"Well, this brings back memories."

Eddie didn't respond, the fear in the air drawing out every second, making it feel infinite. Behind them and in another universe, Dustin said a bunch of stuff Steve barely heard for the pounding in his ears. He watched beads of sweat roll down Eddie's forehead and waited for something to give.

Like clouds fat with rain, Eddie finally broke open, tension draining out of him, arm and weapon dropping to his side. He exhaled a shaky breath, maintaining eye contact, his expression too complicated for Steve to fully read.

Steve was about to say something else when Eddie finally spoke, cocking his head to the side and leveling Steve with a look.

"And here I spent all these years thinking you forgot."

#steddie #ficlet #mine #long post #first kisses

[oceansblvds]

closer ; coriolanus snow

pairing ; coriolanus snow x reader

words ; 3.4k

about ; you and coriolanus have never exactly gotten along, and all of that boils over at a party you're hosting. based off of this request.

warning(s) ; smut, fingering, p in v sex, not edited, mentions of choking someone out (lol)

authors note ; please feel free to request fics or headcanons or blurbs! i hope u enjoy :) kinda got carried away with this one.

Coriolanus was, for lack of a better word, obsessive. 

He was obsessive in the things that he did, the people he saw, the way he dressed, he was obsessive to the point that anyone who had even a glance as to what he was thinking would think that he was insane. It was no way to live, but the spiny, tingly feeling that rose up his spine when he felt the obsession for yet another thing growing was enough to keep him tethered in his ways. He’s a reserved, meticulous man who never let himself be seen as anything other than such, no one had ever seen him make one mistake, not since he was a young child. He was erratic, cold and calculated all at the same time. He didn’t like when things didn’t go his way, and he certainly didn’t like when he felt that someone was trying to best him. 

And that’s what you seemed to do, try to best him. All the time, you would walk into a room and all eyes would turn to you instead of him. You always had a way with your words, speaking to the hearts of people and reminding them that you were the Academy’s darling. It made him sick to his stomach, the knot twisting into a more convoluted mess within his gut until he wanted to throw up what little he had to eat that day. He had never felt this way about someone before, whatever it was, and he didn’t like it, not one bit. With you, he felt as if he had no control. With you, people didn’t fall under his spell. 

The party bustled all around, the lavish hall that it was situated in being filled with the noises of mentors and peers alike, all in celebration for the next Hunger Games. It was at your house, which pained Coriolanus, but made sense. You were always looking to help out, and it seemed to be the perfect opportunity for the Dean to ask if you and your family would host this gathering. You considered it done the moment it was asked of you, all you had to do was ask your parents for the money and for the time and you organized the whole thing. It was going perfectly. Many people came up to you, chiding about how wonderful the party was, how they hoped that they would get some of the appetizing leftovers from the snack table. You gave smiles, your laughter filling up the space that Coriolanus could hear, wanting nothing more than to smack you silly, to prove that you were not better than him. 

It was stupid, really, considering you had done nothing to prove that you were trying to humiliate him. It was all twisted in his mind. And he was determined to make things right, whatever that meant. 

He made his way to you, dressed in a pressed white dress shirt and black slacks, accenting his long legs, his usually curled hair pressed back only a bit in a styled fashion. He was handsome, there was no denying it. Your eyes met his blue ones, almost being enveloped in the sea of them as he made his way further. 

“Well then, if it isn’t the Academy’s darling,” Coriolanus said, his tone nothing but authoritative, as if he was trying to make you feel uncomfortable. You were used to his slight jabs, the way that he always seemed to want to push your buttons. You paid it no mind, not letting him have the satisfaction. “How much of daddy’s money did you have to spend to pull this off?” 

You rolled your eyes, pearled white teeth biting your tongue as you chose your words carefully. “Coriolanus, do tell me, is it your mission in life to be a thorn in my side?” A playful jab, something that you could easily spin out as being a tease if the wrong person was to hear. After all, you wouldn’t want your reputation to tank over one encounter. That was the thing about the Academy, always somewhere there was someone watching, listening. You were never alone. 

Thorns. They reminded him of his Grandma’am’s roses, how the things would get caught in your skin if you weren’t careful enough. There had been many times where he had cut himself on the barbs, the tip digging into the thin layer of his hand and drawing blood when he had gone to cut one for his outfit. He thought to himself how he wanted to be a thorn in your side, how he wanted to poke and prod at you until he drew blood, to see your perfect image falter under his touch. He chuckled at your words, the crease lines of his smile oh so evident as you looked at his stupid, perfect face. He leaned in, the smell of roses enveloping the two of you, his face almost disastrously close to your own. 

“Do you want me to be?” 

You scoffed. “Being crass now?” 

Of course, of course you dealt your hand in the same way that you always did. He would put himself out there, trying to get a rouse out of you, and you wouldn’t bite at the bait. You would simply leave him there, to play with himself, and it was so infuriating. For once, just once, he wished that he would see that perfectness in your stature falter. He wanted to see you ruined, whether or not he was the person to do it. But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he knew that he had to be the one to ruin you. You were his, whether you knew it or not. 

You walked away from him, spinning on your perfect heels and making your way to a door, opening it and closing. It was the bathroom, one of many in your house but the one that was most accessible to the party. You needed a moment alone, to freshen up, to get Coriolanus out of your mind. This was your party, he wasn’t just going to ruin it like this by using all of his stupid words. Your hand went to your forehead, pushing some of the strands that had fallen from your perfectly styled hair back to their place, leaning in and scanning your face in the mirror for any other mistakes on your clear skin. Just as you were about to turn and make your way out, you watched as the door opened and closed just as quickly, Coriolanus standing there with his back to the door. You heard the familiar click of the lock, and the way that he looked at you made you shiver. He looked like he wanted to eat you alive. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” You asked him, moving to grab the handle but was quickly swatted away by his hand. You looked up at him, the height difference palpable, despite the heels you had on. He was so much bigger than you, he could easily overpower any move that you tried to make. “Let me through, Snow, this isn’t funny.” 

“No.” 

Your eyes squinted. “No?” 

“You know, for someone who spends hours in front of the mirror, you’re not fooling anyone,” Coriolanus said. He took a step forward, which didn’t really make such a difference in the long run. This was a big bathroom, if you really wanted you could've had a party in here with a sizable guest list. Still, you took a step backwards, wanting to keep the distance between the two of you. 

“What’s your problem, Coriolanus?” 

“You’re my problem,” He breathed out. “Always pretending to be so damn perfect.” 

You laughed. “Well, not everyone can embrace mediocrity as effortlessly as you do.” A low blow, something you knew would get under his skin and rile him up. And it seemed to do just that, because you could see his jaw clench, perfect facade that he had seemed to falter. You had caught him off guard, he hadn’t expected you to bite back with such a fiery attitude. But maybe you had just had enough of all his button pushing, of all his mindless teasing and hating on you for what seemed like no reason. You wanted to make him uncomfortable, make him know how much you loathed him. So you continued, “Jealous much? Can’t handle the fact that I outshine you without even trying?” 

Coriolanus was walking towards you before you even had a chance to move out of the way, his large body caging you in between himself and the marble counter. His hand went to your jaw, the contact of his fingertip on your skin making you heat up, a small fire burning in your chest. His grip was so hard that you were sure that it would leave a bruise. Your eyes widened, pupils blown out from the contact. You hadn’t expected for him to do this, you hated how much you liked it. How you wondered if he was this rough when he was doing other things. 

He didn’t say anything for a moment, seemingly liking the way that your doe eyes widened and looked at him, like you were a deer caught in the headlights. But his mouth opened, “You don’t know anything about me.” 

Which was, for the record, very true. You didn’t know anything about Coriolanus Snow because he seemed so keen on keeping things a secret. You didn’t know about his home life, the only thing you knew about him was what he was showing to you now, that he had a dark side that was starting to leak out of the cracks of his perfected persona. You gave a smile, a vile, venomous one that was meant to catch him off guard. “Yeah? So tell me, Coriolanus Snow, what don’t I know? Please, enlighten me.” 

He wished that you would just shut the fuck up. He wanted to put his hand around your throat and choke you until you lost consciousness, so that he could feel like he would be rid of all the sickening thoughts about you for just one moment. He thought about leaving right now, leaving while he still had some dignity left. But Coriolanus was not one to back down from a challenge, and he certainly wasn’t one to lose the upper hand. He was in control, he had to keep his control. There was no way in hell that he would let you think differently. 

The way he kissed you was bruising, like he was trying to make a mark on you forever. His teeth grazed against your lips, biting and nipping enough to almost draw blood. Coriolanus was all consuming, His one hand staying on your jaw while the other one came to wrap around your throat, disregarding his earlier thoughts and instead only squeezing a little bit, pulling you closer to him. His hips pushed into your own, you could feel his bulge through his trousers, a smirk fell on your face before he was quick to wipe it off by pushing you so much into the counter that you jumped on top of it, opening your legs and allowing him to slot in between them. 

Your hands came and wrapped in his hair, pulling on the locks of goldenness that you had only fantasized before in your dreams. They were soft, just like you imagined, and the way that you pulled on them had him groaning into your mouth, his lips leaving yours to kiss harshly against your jawline, down your neck, and onto the part of your collarbone that was exposed from your dress shirt. Teeth pressing against the soft skin that connected your jaw to your neck. You sighed out, hands moving down to his torso and surrendering into his touch as if saying do anything to me, anything you’d like.

And he did, because the second he heard that sigh come from your pretty pink lips he was determined to explore every part that he could of your body. He paid extra attention to your neck, sucking just under your chin, earning a soft moan on your part at the feeling. Your hips pressed against his and each of you breathed out, liking that feeling more than anything in the world. You hated how pliant you were in his hands, something you never thought would happen in a million years with Coriolanus Snow. And yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, instead pulling his head closer to your body and allowing for one of his hands to slip under your dress shirt, palm pressing against your left breast. He liked you like this, so perfectly obedient and compliant. He was going to enjoy ruining you. 

His hands pushed your pants down along with your panties, leaving you completely bare in front of him. You felt insecure, instinctually closing your legs away from him. He tutted, shaking his head and taking both of his hands to spread your legs open in front of him. He stood there looking at the curve of your hips and the apex of your thighs, eyes landing on your wet center. you looked down at him while he did nothing, only staring at you. You were completely vulnerable, insides screaming for him to just touch you. He seemed to want to take his time, from the way that his hand came and rested on the inside of your thigh while his eyes looked at your face gauging for a reaction. 

“What do you want, an instruction book?” You asked him, the brattiness and defiance in your tone that should’ve made him angry instead made him chuckle. His hand continued to reach further until his thumb pressed against your clit, making you groan at the feeling, your legs wrapping around his clothed waist. He was still completely clothed while you were completely pantsless. The bastard. He slid a singular finger into you, knowing that it would be enough to satisfy you for now, but it wasn’t enough. 

“Coriola-” 

A knock on the door made you both stop what you were doing. A voice was heard on the other end, it was your friend, wondering if you were okay since you had been in there for a while. “Y-yes! It’s fine,” You lied. “I’m just not feeling very well, I’ll be out soon!” You heard footsteps receding, and you turned your attention back to Coriolanus, who was looking down at you with a smirk. His finger was still buried in you, your pussy squeezing around his finger, wishing that he would move it. He seemed to understand what you wanted, his finger beginning to pump in and out, his thumb still pressed against your clit. The feeling was searing, something you weren’t even sure could just be described by words. 

His finger curled up in a come here motion and you almost screamed, biting your lip so that you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of knowing he had such an effect over you. He could see through your bullshit quite clearly, pushing another two fingers into you and not moving. Coriolanus had three fingers in you that he wasn’t moving, watching you squirm against his hand to create some kind of pleasure. but with his other hand he held your hips down, keeping you from moving at all. 

“I want to hear you beg for it.”

“For fucks sake, Coriolanus,” you said, eyes opening to look at him. 

His chest pressed against your own as he leaned in, “Beg. or I’ll leave you to finger fuck yourself.”

For a moment you thought that you weren’t going to do it, mostly because of your pride and ego. the pleasure that awaited you took over though and you opened your mouth to say, “please, Coriolanus. Fuck me with your fingers. Stretch me out. I need you.” your cheeks burned in embarrassment at your words, knowing that he would never let you live that down. 

“Good girl.”

He spared not a moment more, fingers setting at an unbelievably fast pace as they pumped in and out of you. His thumb massaged figure eights on your clit and you knew that you weren’t going to last long. Your head arched back, feeling him hit your g spot every single time his fingers fucked into you. Soon enough you were cumming, opening your eyes and seeing blurry vision. He kept pumping his fingers, mouth finding home on your neck to give you more marks, perfect petals like a perfect rose. You didn’t know how you were going to be able to hide all of them.

You took a minute to catch your breath and for that moment he wasn’t touching you at all made you miss his touch more than you were willing to admit. You heard the sound of pants unzipping and soon enough Coriolanus was in between your legs, this time his cock in his hands as he pumped lazily. He was big, you thought to yourself. Of course he was, considering all he had done with you so far, he was just preparing for you to be almost speared open by his cock. Incoherent words spilled from your lips, all different forms of begging for him to just push it in, and he finally gave you the satisfaction, the tip of his cock pressing into your entrance. Coriolanus pushed all the way in, inch by agonizingly slow inch, his own eyes falling shut at the feeling of your warmth around him. 

Once he bottomed out, he pulled out, pushing back in. You hissed at the feeling, not all the way used to the feeling of him stretching you out but loving it anyways. He buried himself into you like he owned you and you loved it. His hands came to your hips and thrusted in and out with such force that your whole body moved with every single rut into you. He shed no mercy, hitting that one spot every single time mercilessly. 

Your hands fumbled to touch him, anywhere you possibly could. Eventually you made your way to his back, fingernails digging into his skin enough to probably draw blood from underneath the white button up that he was wearing. You scratched up and down, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your breasts bounced up and down with every thrust from underneath your shirt, your mouth opened slack. The heat in the room was almost unbearable, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

He grabbed your thigh and hoisted it up, moaning at the new angle that he hit within you. Your eyes teared up with the pleasure that coursed through you, once again about to hit that brink once again. You were already pretty sensitive from the previous orgasm. His name sounded so pornographic coming from you that he tried his best to remember how it sounded. It was unlike anything he had ever felt in his life. You looked so fucking good taking him like this. He felt as if he had everything he ever wanted in the palm of his hands. And he was making you feel good, better than anyone ever had before. 

This drove his pride, thrusting animal like into you to take you to that peak again. He wanted to make you cum again. And you did, after about three thrusts from him, each one pulling out all the way and pushing in with force. his hand slipped down to rub your clit in figure eights and you came with a yell of his name into his shoulder, biting down on the fabric to try and muffle some of it so that passersby wouldn’t hear what was going on inside the bathroom. Not even two thrusts after, he was cumming, a low groan eliciting from his lips while his body stalled slightly on top of you. Each of your skins were drenched with sweat that you two almost stuck to each other. He pulled your face to meet his own and gave you a quick peck, and continued this all the way down your neck then stopping to bury his face into the crook of your neck, composing himself. 

He didn’t pull out, not right away, thinking that he had gotten all that he wanted. 

And there was no way that he could let you go now. 

taglist ;

@obaewankenobis ; @slyhersophia ; @narcissistic-siren ; lmk if you want to be added.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #tbosas #the hunger games #tom blyth

[fangirl-dot-com]

🐍 Track 2 - . . . Ready for It?

TAG LIST IS CLOSED

I'm sorry to the ones I couldn't tag. If you do want notifications for when I post, there's always that option as well!

Logan had a new phone. And for the first time in a while, it felt nice to just be disconnected from the world for a bit. The people who truly mattered had his phone number. His Instagram had been wiped, along with every other social media. The American had gone dark. 

And apparently you had done the same thing. 

His parents and brother knew where he would be, just in case for emergencies. However, he asked them to not text much. He needed time away, well, away from the current grid. It hurt him, seeing how supportive everyone was with Theo. No one had ever congratulated him when he first got signed. Hell, even Oscar hadn’t known right away, claiming he had forgotten. 

Of course, he had given you his new number because you’d be the only person he previously knew that he’d still be in contact with. You also gave Logan you’re new number, having similar ideas to your friend. 

Well, he had given George his new number. The Briton had texted his old number in a panic-like manner when Logan deactivated everything. Under a temporary contract, Logan wasn’t legally allowed to tell George anything except that he was safe and needed time away. 

The brunet was not happy with that, but he let Logan know that if he needed anything, he would come running. A bit of happiness let itself seep into Logan’s heart, thankful for the Mercedes driver’s friendship. 

When he had read the email after the social media posts went up, his mind blanked. 

What did Andretti want with him? A washed-out jobless nobody. He believes they should have been looking at someone like Carlos or even Ollie, who was making good times in F2 car. It had to be anyone but him. 

So why was it him? 

He had been about to call you when you had first facetimed him on his laptop. He couldn’t even get words about before you started screeching. Logan chuckled as you went on a rant, as this could be their big break. His silence had given you a look into how he was truly feeling. 

Your voice had quieted down on the device. 

“You’re going to take the offer right?” 

Logan winced at your tone, which gave you the information you needed. You rolled your eyes as you sat on your bed. 

“Logan, we were just dropped by two teams that didn’t even want us. They pushed us away like we were nothing. And now, there’s a team with top potential that truly wants us, and you don’t want to take the opportunity?” 

The American boy sighed. You had a point. 

“I’m just scared that I’m going to get there, and then make a fool out of myself. Then Michael is going to see how truly bad of a driver I am,” he hugged out. 

You could hear the fear in his voice, and it devastated you. Where did your confident and smiley boy go? Williams would pay for it, one way or another. 

You were hesitant to say something. 

“Logan, even if our times aren’t what we’re wanting at first, Michael said that we will get better. He’s sent my manager some data and it looks like we are scarily similar with our driving styles. Logan, the car is going to be made for us. Michael made sure that I knew that we’d have a chance, because I’m not driving if you’re not. Together or nothing, we come as a package.” 

Logan sat up quickly off his bed. He glared at you through his laptop.

“You did not just quote Charles Leclerc to me.” 

“And what if I did?”  

“No, you can’t give this offer up if I don’t drive.” 

You glared back at him, although you had a smile. 

“It’s either both of us, or none of us. I’m tired of never seeing you, and you need a friend you can count on. I’m sorry to say but Oscar has done a very shit job of being your friend. I’d say that George is a better friend than him.” 

Logan sighed. “No, you’re right. It’s just hard to accept that.” 

Your smile dropped a bit. 

“Logan, he was supposed to be your friend and then he dropped you. Everyone had dropped you so many times and you’ve been the one to pick yourself back up. But now, you’ve been dropped a final time, yet someone wants to be the first to help you back up, to clean your wounds, and to heal you. And now you don’t even want that?” 

You had a point. 

Like always. 

“Your words never seem to fail me woman.” 

“That’s because men are the inferior being.” 

Logan snorted. 

“Will I see you in Milan next week?” you asked with hopeful eyes. Logan could see the glimmer that shined in them. He didn’t want to be the person to damped that. 

“I will see you in Milan.” 

The first thing that popped into Logan’s mind when he got to the base was “Holy Shit.” 

The building was massive as he walked through the giant doors. He really thought that this was a movie set with how grand it was. Surely this couldn’t it? Maybe he had the wrong address. 

“Mr. Sargeant?” 

Or maybe he did. His body turned to the lady standing near the front desk. He showed a smile that was definitely a tad too wide and showed too many teeth. Thankfully the lady didn’t show any malice as she sweetly grinned at the blond. 

“Yes ma’am. That’s me.” 

Always the good southern-hospitality manners with him. 

“I’m glad you could make it. If you’d follow me, Michael is waiting in his office for you.” 

Logan breathed a sigh of relief when he finally knew that he didn’t have to circumnavigate the entirety of the building. 

The air was fresh as he walked behind the lady, who he now knew as Marissa Andretti, Michael’s sister and Head of Directors. Her own American accent was like a comforting blanket to Logan. Gosh, did he miss hearing a familiar voice to his own during 2023. 

The one voice he couldn’t wait to hear was your own. He knew he’d be safe once he heard the lisps of a Southern draw when you talked. The slurred vowels and the biting consonants would be music to his ears. 

“How have you liked the simulator and the data so far?” Marissa asked as she led Logan down yet another hallway. How big was this building and were they leading him to his death? 

Yet, despite his concerns, Logan was very happy with the results. 

“The car is already so fast. It’s like it’s just an extension of me instead of working against me. It feels so right.” 

Technically, Logan had been on the first plane to Milan to start testing, as his own anxiety wouldn’t let him wait until the week was up. You had your own simulator back in the States, so you did your testing there. Logan had been back in London when the email came, and his set up was not going to function with the high tech that Andretti needed. 

Marissa smiled over her shoulder. “Good, that is exactly what we are wanting to hear.” 

Finally, she stopped in front of a door that had a giant-ass A on the front. Logan wanted to laugh at the cinematics. Surely, this was a movie and he was going to be the main character. Marissa pushed a button and the door slowly swung open. 

Logan’s smile grew once he saw you in one of the very plush seats in front of the desk. You immediately stood up and jumped into his arms. He breathed deeply and all weight slowly melted from his body. It had been so long since he had gotten to hug you, hold you, feel you. 

When you pulled away, you had a blinding smile on your face. 

“Glad to see you here Logs.” 

His nose scrunched at the old nickname. 

“I don’t think you’ve called me that since we were 12, Y/n.” 

You huffed. 

“Fine, no nickname for you.” 

“I take it back. I ban you from calling me Logan.” 

“Isn’t that your name?” 

“No?” 

“Logs!” 

“Ah there it is!” 

A cough signaled to Logan that they weren’t actually alone. He sheepishly turned around to face the man who, hopefully after this meeting, would be his boss for a couple of years. Logan turned his full body towards the desk and stepped with his hand outstretched. 

Michael had a knowing smile as he shook Logan’s hand. 

“I am so sorry sir, I didn’t even realize that you were already here, and I haven’t seen her in a while, and it’s so good to just here the accents because the grid is entirely too European and Asian, sometimes I couldn’t even understand them, and…” 

Michael put his hands on Logan’s shoulders. 

“It’s just fine kid. I totally get you.” 

Logan visibly relaxed under Michael’s hands. 

“Now, why don’t you sit down and we can start talking contracts.” 

Logan lit up at the word. 

“Contracts?”

You gave him a smirk. 

“Yes Logs, contracts.” 

Logan felt as though he couldn’t breathe. But this time, it was with excitement and not dread. His butt quickly found the seat next to yours. Marissa left the room with promises of coming back with celebratory drinks. 

Michael pulled out two small stacks of paper before he started speaking. 

“So, I’ve talked with both of your managers and we’ve come up with a contract. You two can look over it as I read the big details. The finer print is stuff that you both have already previously gone over, but you are still encouraged to look over it one final time.”

You and Logan had the same exact papers. 

In the initial emailing process, the two of you had voiced that you were a packaged deal. Logan was surprised to see that Michael had said that he wouldn’t want it any other way and was glad to possibly not have to deal with drivers hating each other. Logan thought anything would be better than Brocedes 2016. 

You looked down at the words as Michael read them out loud. 

“Ok, so in the contract, the two of you will be signed until 2027. There is an exit clause in section C, but we are not allowed to terminate prior to 2027. The two of you will be granted ambassadorship with whatever sponsors we’ve received. The sponsorships are in section E and it gives a rundown of each one and what they will be contributing to the team. 

“Per secrecy of wanting to keep the identities secret until we reach the grid for testing, the two of you will go under pseudonyms.” 

You raised an eyebrow. 

“Like a call sign?” 

Marissa flashed a wicked grin. 

“Exactly like a call sign.” 

You continued, “Do we get to come up with them?” 

Michael clasped his hands. “So we thought that Y/n could go by Phoenix and then Logan would go Venus.” 

Your eyes widened as you took in the name. Wasn’t too bad, you thought. 

Logan let out a sigh of relief. “At least it’s not like Eagle or something. That would be super obvious.” 

The boss-man chuckled before he looked back down at the contract. 

“Since the two of you did not specify a salary, we took the liberty to come up with one ourselves. But please feel free to mention what you’d like and we can always raise it. We also liked to put in that for every point scored, the two of you get a bonus as a little incentive. The salary will not be dropped no matter if points are scored or not. Think of it as a baseline.” 

Michael chuckled as he watched yours and Logan’s eyes drastically widen at the sight of the eight digits before the decimal. Logan gulped at the sight. 

“Michael, I think you added too many zeros.” 

“I think I didn’t add enough.” 

Logan couldn’t respond. 

You looked up from the paper to Michael. “I think it’s high enough.” 

The goateed-man smiled back at you and continued. 

“I’ve seen the skills parts on your resumes and thankfully the two of you do not need to learn Italian from scratch. I don’t even know when the two of you had time to learn it, but thankfully it is not required in meetings or in the garage.” 

Logan smirked as he looked at the words. 

“What’s the fun in that? We can have secret conversations with ourselves.” 

You tapped his shoulder. 

“Except Ferrari will know and maybe Lewis.” 

“I’ll have my Duolingo account at the ready.” 

Michael watched as the two of you pored over the papers and bickered like an old married couple. He and Marissa already had a bet going to see when the two of you would get together. But, you didn’t need to know that.

“I digress. You can speak in Italian if you want to. The next couple of sections are just PR related. The two of you wanted to bring you own teams in, which is fine. I’ve sent emails and meeting times to each of them and have been replied to. All is in motion. Logan, you mentioned something to me once about your personal trainer leaving?” 

A sigh left his lips at the mention of Benny. He really didn’t want anyone else. He slowly nodded. 

“He had to leave to be with his family. Williams wasn’t the most accommodating and he was told that he had to be at every race. Normally I didn’t even need him until race day. He’d miss so much time with his family because of traveling and things like that.” 

“Well, I think we have you covered.” 

Logan looked back down at the paper. A small gasp left his lips. 

Ben Jacobs was written in black ink under “Personal Trainer.” 

“How?” 

Michael smiled. 

“It took some convincing, but he said he’d come back for you. Of course, Ben will be highly compensated to return after he said he wouldn’t. His family will also be accommodated for any race that they’d like to attend and Ben can show up however late he needs. His leave will also be paid time as well.” 

Logan could kiss the man if he could. Tears pooled in his eyes and he could only manage a small thank you. Your hand rested on his shoulder in comfort. He just couldn’t wait to see him again. 

“Looks like that is everything. Are you two ready to sign?” 

Yours and Logan’s heads nodded eagerly as pens were uncapped. There was light scratching for a few moments as you filled out the needed information on the multiple sheets of paper. Once everything was completed, you let out a sigh of relief. You and Logan could finally do this. 

Marissa showed up at the right moments with a few different beverages. You took one of the iced americanos, claiming that Italian espresso was, in fact, the best kind. Logan surprised you as he took a mimosa. 

He side-eyed you. 

“It’s freshly squeezed orange juice and you cannot go wrong with it. It’s a classic.”

You held you drink up and your other hand in mock surrender. 

Michael took a black coffee and sipped it. 

“Now, onto the fun stuff.” 

Your eyebrows pinched. “Fun stuff?” 

Michael smirked before pulling up a projector that was attached to his laptop. He started to click through the slides. 

“First, the car.” 

On the slide was a sleek yellow and black livery. The black really highlighted the tamer yellow. 

Michael pointed at it. 

“This is our 2024 livery. We designed it awhile back, but it’s finally going to be used.” 

You let out a whistle as a video played the engine noise. To you, it sounded fast. You had been able to do a few laps with an actual car to get the feel of it since IndyCar were so much different. Michael claimed though that you were a natural in the car, being able to command it to what you needed it to do. Logan was quite the same. 

The next slide showed multiple models of Lamborghinis. With it came a smirk from the sister and brother pair. 

Logan looked at them. 

“I don’t know whether to be excited about the smirks or nervous.” 

Marissa was the one to pull up something on her personal iPad. She showed the official Lamborghini website. 

“Because the two of you will now technically ambassadors for Lambo as well, you two need to pick out what models the two of you would like to own. For now, we can start with one, but Tonino wanted his drivers to start a small collection.” 

You made her pause. 

“Tonino, as in, Tonino Lamborghini?” 

Marissa sent a gentle smile to calm you down. 

“Yes. Mr. Tonino will be at quite a few races to watch. He has mentioned wanting to see Ferrari fail, but our data is saying that although we look promising, there’s not guarantee.” 

Logan exhaled sharply. 

“No pressure right?” 

Michael leaned forward over the desk. 

“Listen to me Logan. You have been with a team that has now destroyed every bit of self-confidence. Mr. Tonino is actually the one who put your name on my radar. If you’re good enough for him, you need to believe that you’re good enough for everyone else.” 

Logan was taken back. Mr. Tonino was the one to bring him up? He felt honored in a good way. A nod of his head let Michael and Marissa know that they could continue. Logan turned your way, only to find you already smiling at him. He hoped that he could always be on the receiving end of that smile. 

Marissa continued where she left off. 

“Just look over the models and customize it however you’d like. We’ll get it sent to the factory to be made in time for the first race in Bahrain. These cars will be shipped along with our supplies so you can always have them.” 

You smirked. “I’ve always wanted a black Lamborghini Aventador.” 

Logan turned to Marissa. “I’d love a black Lamborghini Huracan.” 

A smile grew on your face. “Aw, Logan. We’ll get matching Lambos.” 

Logan thought that if you had been an emoji, you’d be the one with the big teary eyes and a pout. Marissa looked pleased at the requests for the different models. 

You raised your hand. “Do we need to start looking for places to stay here in Milan?” 

Michael lifted his eyebrows. 

“You don’t actually. Between races, the two of you are more than welcome to either go home or adventure somewhere. We will let you know when it is crucial to come back here to do some testing. Housing is provided when you need to be here. There are multiple estates that can be used on bought property.” 

You and Logan definitely liked the sound of that. Maybe you could stay in close villas or something. Or maybe in the same place as you tended to get lonely. That’s what being pushed out of everything does to someone in a year. You can’t remember the last time that you were invited to do something with the team, always retreating to your small hotel room after a race. You feel as though Logan might feel the same. 

Michael moved to the next slide, showing the race suits. 

“These are the suits for the season. Black or white fireproofs will go well with them. Helmets are up to the two of you. You will need on standard for some races and then you can choose what races you want fun ones to be. Miami, Austin, Las Vegas, and Imola are going to be considered our home races.” 

“What about Monza?” Logan questioned. 

Michael had a glint in his eyes. 

“That will forever belong to the Tifosi I’m afraid.” 

You decided to pipe up. 

“Or Charles Leclerc. I feel like wherever he goes, the Tifosi goes with him. You make him trade teams, the Italians will follow him.” 

Logan shot you a teasing look. 

“You always have to bring him up in one way or another.” 

You shrugged. 

“He’s a good driver. Let’s not bring up that you’re such a fanboy for Max Verstappen of all people.” 

Logan’s torso shifted. 

“It’s not every day that one beats Sir Lewis Hamilton and take away his 8th championship!” 

Laughs erupted from Michael and Marissa, making you and Logan pause. You cleared your throat. 

“Sorry, please continue.” 

Michael went a bit further with the slides, going over compatible data to the car. He went over sponsors and things like that before he finally leaned back into his chair. 

“Are we able to drive the cars today?” 

Much like you were, Logan was itching to be back behind the wheel. And hopefully, the wheel belonged to a reliable car. 

Michael stood from where he sat, making you and Logan also rise to your feet. 

“I’d thought you’d never ask,” he said, making his way to the door. When the two of you didn’t follow, he turned back around. 

“Are you ready for it?” 

lamborghini_racing has posted

Lamborghini_racing Are you ready for it?

liked by y/n.nation, logang2, box_box_express, and 4,205,095 others

l4mbo.child a hello or how are you doing WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE

f1_fan I fear they have gagged the entire grid with this

ferrariforza damn, I thought we had the best livery - sorry kings 👑

lambo_drivers all I'm asking is who is going to be driving this beast?

lo-girlies do I even utter his name in fear that it might not happen?

y/nfan or even utter her name?

thepaddock_person who 🤨

childofF1 I'll say it - LOGAN AND Y/N FOR LAMBO 2024

box_box_express the paint, the yellow, the black, the lighting, THE EVERYTHING

taylorswiftxf1 I see the admin is a Taylor fan??

phoenix95 has posted

phoenix95 baby let the games begin

liked by venus2, Lamborghini_racing, y/n.nation, dior, and 2,195,086 others

4theF1_girlies EXCUSE MEEEEEEE

driver95 ayo - we got the Lightning McQueen number with a queen

lambo_duo oh gosh I hope I live to see the day that they reveal their drivers

venus2 looking snazzy 😎

phoenix95 no one ever says that anymore

venus2 🥺

phoenix95 fine...thank you

venus2 🥰

venusxphoenix WHOEVER THEY ARE - THEY HAVE MY HEART

rising_phoenix95 immediate fan

lambo_child the Aventador is such a slay 💅

lambof1 I wonder if they have like matching cars with their contracts

venus2 has posted

venus2 let the games begin now

liked by phoenix95, marissa_andretti, Lamborghini_racing, and 4,205,850 others

lambof1 I THINK I CALLED IT?? THE MATCHING BLACK CARS

pitstop_nightmare I'M SORRY FERRARI BUT THIS IS TOO SEXY

lamborghinivsferrari THE HURACAN 🥵😱

c16_leclerc I'm guessing they went to Charles's school of serving cunt

hamilton44lewis and graduated with a degree in slay

phoenix95 that's sexy baby

venus2 thanks 😚

phoenix95 ...I was talking about the car?

venus2 sure...sure you were 😈

box_box_express I feel like I have some sleuthing to do - hold please

logansarg2 I miss Logan so much - it's heartbreaking to see all of his accounts go dark, I guess I'll have to stan this dude instead

y/n.nation I miss our girl so much

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @myxticmoon @cherry-piee @blueberry64857959 @glitterquadricorn @lizzypiastri @disneyprincemuke @sam-is-lost @spilled-coffee-cup @ilove-tswizzle @the-untamed-soul @allenajade-ite @starssfall @torchbearerkyle @judespoision @halfdeadsage @juniper-july19 @severewobblerlightdragon @thatgirlmj @gods-menace @ineedafictionalman @namgification @dark-night-sky-99 @samantha-chicago @2pagenumb @treehouse-mouse @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @kagatinkita @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @awekbachira @vellicora @skepvids @sunrizef1 @stan-josie @fanficweasley @hiireadstuff @barcelonaloverf1life @c-losur3 @graciewrote @bruhhhhhhhhehhhhhhh @tallrock35 @ashy-kit @kat-s2 @minkyungseokie @lozzamez3 @leslieis-crying @adventuresofrose @lighttsoutlewis

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant imagine #logan sargeant fluff #logan sargeant #f1 x driver!reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #platonic grid x reader #formula 1 x you #Logan Sargeant x driver!reader #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant fic #future grid dad lewis #future grid dad lestappen #grid bestie george #grid dad lewis #grid dad charles #grid dad max #reputations fic #Lamborghinidriver!reader #Logan deserves this and more #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you

[les4elliewilliams]

With all my heart.

¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!

cw/wc: 10.9k (ik wtf) not proofread ; smut, fingering both r/e!receiving, oral (r!receiving), swearing, fluff, reader has a heart condition. jackson ellie x fem reader (💘)

a/n: I'm not really sure how I feel about this, lol (especially the smut part). I tried to do a lot of research about this type of heart issue to make it as accurate as possible, so if it's not, I'm sorry, I tried. ib one of those romantic movies where one of the characters is sick and has some rare condition (except that no one dies.)

also can we start romanticizing unconditional love and healthy relationships?

You knew you had won the lottery the moment you accidentally bumped into her in the hospital.

Your life has been full of challenges right from the beginning. You were born with a condition that affected your heartbeats, making it difficult for your heart to function normally. So you had to rely on a pacemaker to regulate your heartbeat. This condition has significantly impacted your life, making it hard for you to engage in activities that require physical exertion.

Long QT Syndrome, or LQTS, is a rare genetic condition that can mess up your heart's electrical system. It can cause your heartbeats to go wild, making you faint, have seizures, or even go into sudden cardiac arrest. To keep yourself safe, you needed to take your meds, live a certain way, and have a pacemaker — which you had implanted.

Living a normal life had always been tough for you, and it wasn't only the syndrome's physical symptoms that held you back, but also your parents' protectiveness. They worried a lot about your health, maybe a bit too much, leaving you with very little freedom to do anything. Even simple things like going to a party or hanging out with friends like a regular teenager seemed like a luxury you could never have. Although you understood that your parents were only trying to protect you, their overprotectiveness always made you feel suffocated and cut off from the world. You always felt like an alien who had just been dropped off on Earth; you knew nothing about anything. You've always had to rely on the stories and experiences of people around you, like your friends, to help you figure things out and feel like you had lived a little.

You have been homeschooled ever since you were a little kid. You didn't have many opportunities to participate in social activities and make friends. However, you did manage to meet two people who have remained your only friends to this day. You met them in the park when you were a kid, and to your luck, they stuck around. You often wonder if they stayed with you out of pity or because they genuinely liked spending time with you, but you were glad regardless; it was good to have someone to hang out with.

The memory of the day you met Ellie is still as vivid in your mind as it was when it happened. You had just finished your routine checkup at the hospital and were feeling a bit peckish. You made your way to the vending machine to grab a snack, suddenly feeling a wave of dizziness sweep over you. You hoped a quick snack would help, but fate seemed to have other plans in store for you that day. As you selected your snack, you watched in frustration as it got stuck in the vending machine. You tried everything you could to retrieve it, but it refused to budge. Just as you were about to give up, she appeared.

"Can I hel-" she started, but you were already turning around to leave, and just as you turned around to leave, you accidentally collided with her, causing your chest to hit hers. The impact triggered your pacemaker, causing it to beep loudly and incessantly. "Shit — I'm so sorry" she said as she gently grabbed your arm to steady you. "Oh my god, I'm sorry" you said simultaneously. The sound reverberated through the hospital walls, and your face heated up with embarrassment. You had never experienced anything like this before, not even when you bumped into walls at home.

The auburnette looked at you puzzled and asked, "Why're you beeping? Are you okay?" Worried green eyes scanning you, she was clearly taken aback by the unexpected beeping sound and she couldn't understand where it was coming from. You couldn't help but feel drawn to her despite the awkward introduction, she was the most beautiful girl you had ever seen.

Little did you know that this chance encounter would lead to a series of life-changing events.

You remember sitting in the seating area of the hospital, munching on a snack that she had generously gotten for you, you couldn't help but feel grateful for this girl's kindness. She was so funny and kind, cracking dumb puns every now and then. You admired how perfect and flawless she looked and to this day, she still tells you how mesmerized she was by you when she saw you for the first time. You both chatted away about everything and nothing, you noticed that she had a backpack with her. Being the curious person you are, you couldn't resist the urge to ask her what she was studying. She seemed delighted by your interest and started talking passionately about her field of study — art. The more she talked, the more intrigued you were. When your conversation came to an end, she mustered up the courage to ask for your number, a clear indication that she wanted to see you again; it took you by surprise but you happily obliged. Something about you captivated her attention, although you couldn't quite pinpoint what it was.

You never thought that you would have the chance to become friends with her, let alone her best friend. But somehow, again, fate had other plans for you. Your friendship with her started slowly but surely. She always asked you to hang out, and you couldn't help but say yes. She was so fun to be around, and it was impossible not to enjoy her company. She would come to your place and take you on small adventures, always promising to show you something new and exciting. This was especially important to you, as you had shared that your teenage years were quite dull and you didn't venture out of your house much. She always respected your limits, knowing that you had to be cautious with your heart condition. When she started staying at your place, you were surprised at how well she fit in with your family and friends. Your parents loved her and your friends thought she was great too. She was always taking care of you without being overbearing or suffocating. Her kindness and thoughtfulness made you feel valued and appreciated, and you couldn't help but fall for her. How could you not after all? She was perfect.

You shared every aspect of your life with her, and she reciprocated. You both had a shared love for reading, although she preferred a completely different genre from yours. She forced you to read her favorite Savage Starlight comics, and even though they weren't your cup of tea, you still enjoyed spending time with her while reading them, mostly because of how cute she sounded when she read every line out loud, effortlessly switching tones to match the different characters' voices and even adding sound effects to accentuate the narrative. She would often stay the night at your place and binge-read them with you. She loved to talk about her passions for space, dinosaurs, science, and art. She even showed you her drawings and journal, claiming she had never shown them to anyone. She even made a few drawings for you; it was adorable and impressive how she managed to capture every little detail of your face and put it on a piece of paper, she was a talented one. And, of course, you did the same with her — sharing your favorite comics/books with her, even convincing her to watch movies that she always claimed she hated. After watching them with you, she realized they weren't so bad after all. Not that she actually paid attention to the movie, her eyes solely focused on you.

Soon enough she was introducing you to her closest friends. She was convinced that you would love them, and she was totally right. One of her friends, Dina, was so much fun to be around, always full of energy and cracking jokes, she had a smile that could light up the whole room. Jesse, Dina's boyfriend, was just as funny as her, but he was a bit more serious and responsible than the rest of them. He always looked out for Dina and Ellie, but they never listened to him, which resulted in some pretty hilarious situations. The group had a really cool dynamic, and you loved how they made you feel welcome right from the start.

Your first kiss was a moment you could never forget, etched deeply into your memory. You both were deeply in love with each other, and it was evident in the way you looked at each other. Your glances filled with unspoken feelings and palpable tension that drove you crazy, hoping that you weren't the only one feeling that way. And then the moment finally arrived. You remember it was a hot summer day, and the air in your room was stifling despite the fan pointed at your face. You had a few strands of hair that fell loose out of your messy low ponytail, and they moved with the breeze from the fan. You were both on your bed; she was sitting criss-crossed before you, music playing in the background. She was drawing you in her journal, claiming that she needed more practice, which, after years, she revealed was just an excuse to draw you and spend more time with you; you were her favorite muse and she was just a loser who couldn't help but simp for you. Her cheeks were slightly pink due to the heat (or at least you thought), and her green concentrated eyes flickered back and forth from your face to her journal. When she started drawing your lips you unconsciously licked them, causing her eyes to dart up to look at you in the eyes.

She let out a soft sigh and mumbled under her breath, "m' almost done." A faint blush crept up her cheeks, though you couldn't quite explain why. Intrigued, you leaned over to get a glimpse of her work and asked, "Yeah? can I see?" She straightened up, holding the journal close to her chest, and replied with a slight huff, "Don't move, c'mon, stay still." You raised an eyebrow in amusement and retorted, "What? I'm not even moving." She didn't respond and instead furrowed her brows, focusing intently on her piece of art. The room fell silent, except for the sound of her pencil scratching against the paper.

The silence between you and her was palpable but not uncomfortable, yet you still decided to break it with a joke. "Knock knock," you said, a small smile forming on your face. Her eyes, which had been focused on her journal, darted up to meet yours once again. A playful smile appeared on her lips as she asked, "Who's there?" in a slightly sarcastic tone, giving you an eye roll. "Kiss," you replied, wiggling your brows. "Kiss who?" she played along, her eyes still fixed on you. "Me," you smiled awkwardly.

You knew it was a terrible joke, a very corny one, but you couldn't help it. After all, you didn't have much experience in these kinds of things — the universe only knew how long it took you to muster up the courage to make a silly little joke like that one. She chuckled dryly. "God, that's really bad," she commented, and you laughed along. "I know," you lowered your head and shook it slowly before looking up at her again. Both of you were smiling at each other, the tension between you growing. "So?" you quipped, trying to sound confident. "Do you want to?" you asked, your heart beating fast. "Oh shit, you were serious?" She suddenly sounded nervous, placing her somehow worn-out journal on her thighs as she looked at you in disbelief. You could tell she was surprised, and maybe a little flustered. "I'm sosorry — I didn't mean to make it awkward. Forget it. It's just I really like you a lot, but if you don't—" you started to say, trying to diffuse the tension, but her soft lips cut off your nervous rambling before you could finish your sentence. You felt a jolt of electricity shoot through your body as you kissed her back, your hands reaching up to cup her face. It was a moment you would never forget.

After your first kiss, you and Ellie went on a few dates together. It was during one of these dates that she took you to the park and asked you to be her girlfriend. The setting was perfect — you were having a lovely picnic date, the weather was just right, and a gentle breeze was blowing, caressing your skin and making it erupt in goosebumps as you sat close to the pond next to Ellie, throwing frozen peas to the ducks, their quacking filling the air with lively energy. The water was still and calm, the sun was shining, and the greenery around you was lush and vibrant. You felt a sense of warmth and happiness.

The auburnette sat beside you, leaning back as you fed the ducks in the pond. She wore a tender smile on her face, watching you with a gentle gaze. "I thought they only ever ate bread," she commented, breaking the peaceful silence between the two of you. You turned to her, your eyebrows raised in surprise. "If all they eat is bread, how will they survive in the wild without people tossing them bread all the time?" You replied with a hint of sarcasm. She scoffed and playfully nudged you. "Alright, smartass," she said, you nudged her back, both of you giggling like children. "I'm surprised a know-it-all nerd like you didn't know that," you teased her. "Nerd, huh? you actually like this nerd" she retorted teasingly, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she pointed at herself. "Do I, now?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. You couldn't take back your words after all, you did like her and you made sure to tell her, let's say... pretty often.

"Oh yeah, you do," she chuckled, nodding her head playfully. The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence, watching the ducks swim around in the pond. Suddenly, she turned to you, her expression serious. "Listen, I was thinking...you know how we're going out on dates and all," she started, her voice hesitant. Your head snapped to look at her; your heart was beating like crazy, not that it usually wasn't due to your syndrome, but it felt crazier than usual. You felt your palms start to sweat, and you grew more nervous by the second. "Yeah?" you prompted her, waiting for her to continue. "I guess what I'm trying to say is...we already act like a couple, so...will you be my girlfriend?" she finally gathered the courage to ask, her eyes locked on yours.

She seemed a bit tense, although you couldn't understand why. After all, you had told her multiple times before how much you liked her, and the two of you had been acting like a couple for quite some time now. You gave her a cheeky smile "Of course I want to," you said confidently, jumping right into her lap, feeling a sudden burst of excitement as you wrapped your arms around her.

Your love was pure and genuine, and it was evident from the little things you did for each other. She would leave little notes around your room or in your bag whenever you left for a second. These notes would remind you of her love for you, and you would return the gesture by hiding notes in her notebooks or in her journal. She would find them the next day during her classes, and it would brighten up her day.

"you look so pretty"

"are you a keyboard? cause you're just my type ;)"

"i love your freckles and i love you"

"hope you're having a good day :) ps. no more pickup lines im begging D:"

Your love was spontaneous and full of small handmade gifts, full of drawings from her part and origami from yours. Once in a while she'd even write and play songs for you, which had you smiling like an idiot cause how romantic was that?

She was always too caring, and she would make sure that you were feeling okay despite your heart disorder. She would accompany you to your doctor appointments and never leave your side, even though you would tell her she didn't need to be there. Unlike your parents who had always been overprotective, she was always looking out for you without being too much. Since you were the "sick" one between the two of you, she always had trouble accepting help from you, especially when she felt sick or was on her period. But you always insisted on taking care of her, making her chicken soup whenever she had a horrible cold, and ensuring that she took painkillers for her period cramps. You always made sure that she had enough pads and her favorite snacks or helped her through one of her panic attacks. Soon, she got used to it and would always be a whining mess when she was sick, hoping you would cuddle with her or baby her. She loved it more than she liked to admit.

On your anniversaries, you would surprise each other with flowers. The first time you had ever gotten her flowers (which was on your first date), she accepted them with teary eyes, saying that none of her ex-girlfriends had ever gotten her flowers or treated her like a woman; you loved the idea of being her first in something — you didn't get to be her first kiss or her first time in...that, but at least you were the first girlfriend who treated her right.

Your first time together was so special and intimate, it made you feel truly alive. The way she was so gentle and caring towards you left an indelible imprint on your heart. Her touch was like a soft breeze on a calm summer day, sending shivers down your spine, and being with her made you feel like you were safe from the rest of the world. You remember how her tender gaze made you feel like the most special and beautiful girl in the world, making your insecurities fade away. The way she held you close, with a warmth that engulfed you, made you feel comfortable in your own skin. It was your first time ever, and you confided in her about not having much experience. She reassured you that she would teach you, show you the way, and make you feel good, and good Lord, if she kept that promise.

It was a warm and peaceful afternoon, the sun was shining brightly outside, casting a warm glow into the room. You and your girlfriend were both lounging on her comfortable bed, enjoying each other's company in silence. While she was intently watching an action movie, you were lost in the pages of a captivating book. Your attentive eyes scanned each line and paragraph, immersing yourself in the story and oblivious to your surroundings. Unbeknownst to you, Ellie was growing increasingly impatient, huffing and puffing in an attempt to get your attention. Her huffs were airy at first, but as time went on, they became more forceful and pronounced, hoping to grab your attention and draw you away from your book.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to her, you turned your head gently towards her, lowering your book ever so slightly "What's wrong, Els?" you asked, concerned. "Put it down, I wanna cuddle." she responded, snatching the book out of your hand and placing it on her nightstand. You couldn't help but smile at her neediness, finding it adorable. "Fine," you sighed playfully, "Needy," you added under your breath, rolling your eyes at her. But she caught your comment, "What? Did you say somethin'?" You couldn't help but chuckle at her reaction as she pulled you on top of her and wrapped her arms around you. "Oh, nothing," you innocently replied.

"Comfy? Anything hurts?" she asked in a gentle tone as she rubbed your back in a slow and soothing motion, and you instantly relaxed under her touch. You took a deep breath, the tension in your muscles slowly fading away. "I'm okay, — m'comfy" you reassured her, feeling grateful for her care and existence in general. You hugged her tightly, burying your head in her chest. You could feel the warmth radiating from her, and the steady beats of her heart were a comforting sound.

You both cuddled up in silence, movie still playing softly in the background. As she kept rubbing your back, you gently scratched her arm something that usually relaxed her. After a little while, you felt compelled to express your feelings and whispered, "I love you." Even though you couldn't see her face, you could hear the smile in her voice when she replied, "Love you more, babe." You remained comfortably nestled in her chest, head buried in her grey hoodie. When you finally lifted your head from her chest, you gazed into her beautiful green eyes, already looking at you with so much affection that made your heart skip a beat. "You mean the world to me." you confessed, her eyes softened even more, and her heart swelled with love for you. She was the perfect girlfriend, always so loving and respectful, and you couldn't ask for anyone better. Finally, she leaned in and kissed you slowly and tenderly, a soft kiss that soon turned into something passionate and full of desire. She rolled on top, pinning you down with her weight, her hands roaming all over your body. She squeezed your waist, your hands cupping her freckled face to keep her close. She sighed quietly into the kiss, her fingers tugging at your tank top, and you knew what that meant — she wanted it off. And to confirm your thoughts, it was Ellie herself. She pulled away, lips slightly swollen and pink. Despite her best efforts, it was pretty evident that she was struggling to control her breathing as she panted uncontrollably, both because of the intense making out and her arousal growing by the second. Her face was flushed; she looked at you to gauge your reaction to her silent request, to which you responded with a little nod. "I'm ready," you uttered timidly, feeling your cheeks getting warmer. "Are you sure? We don't nee-" you cut her words off, repeating yourself, "I'm ready," this time sounding a bit more firm and confident of your choice. She mimicked the slight nod you gave her a few seconds ago, loose strands of auburn hair falling out of her little bun framing her face, her eyes never leaving yours.

She leaned in once again, giving you a peck on your moist lips before kissing your jawline and down to your neck. "Can i touch you?" she asked between damp kisses she left on your neck, "I don't know, can you?" she chuckled and began to suck purple marks on your soft skin as she slipped her hand underneath your tank top, brushing against your bare stomach before reaching her target — your tits. She cupped one of your tits, feeling the fabric of your bra. Your breath hitched, your cheeks were flushed and you were grateful she was too focused on your neck to notice "Can I take it off?" she questioned between cute smooches sounds, "Yeah," you breathed out, looking back into her eyes.

When she did, you were left in nothing but your bra, the visible scar near your shoulder making you feel uncomfortable, same with the implanted pacemaker under your skin, it was visible and you hoped it didn't gross her out. You couldn't help but look away from her, suddenly feeling ashamed for something you had no control over; it was something so small yet so significant for you.

You felt her index and middle finger gently pressing under your jawline to turn your head towards her and make you look into her eyes once again. Her voice was soft, almost like a whisper, as she spoke to you in such a tender tone. "Hey," she started softly, sensing your insecurity. "You're beautiful, alright?" Hearing those words from her sent chills all over your body, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you. She continued, "We'll go slow. If something feels wrong, you let me know, okay?" Her words were reassuring, and you could feel her gentle touch on your face, holding it firmly so that you couldn't look away. You nodded in response to her words, suddenly feeling shy in front of your girlfriend.

After less than a few minutes, both of your clothes were off, thrown carelessly somewhere in the room. She still had her sport bra on and her underwear while you only had your underwear on. She trailed down, kissing all over your bare chest and breasts, and your scar, the one you were insecure about "smooch smooch..so pretty, smooch beautiful, my pretty girl" she kept murmuring under her breath causing goosebumps to rise all over your body, your nipples stood erect and hard, begging for some attention. She chuckled when she felt your sensible nub harden under her palm, "Didn't mean to make the ladies feel neglected" she joked, her voice was husky. She looked up at you with a cocky grin, and you felt your cheeks heat up even more; you chuckled awkwardly and rolled your eyes at her attempt to tease you about something you couldn't control. "Why are you always like this?" you rhetorically asked with a playful smirk, she shrugged and gave you a lopsided smile as she began to kiss your chest and attack your nipples with her mouth. "mmphh" you let out; a pathetic attempt to swallow a small moan when she sucked on one of your nipples and pinched the other. You bit down on your lip, and you could feel her smile at the small sound that came from you as she continued to work on your tits.

She trailed her hand down your abdomen, her fingers dancing around the waistband of your underwear teasingly. You couldn't deny the arousal building in your panties and at the pit of your stomach, you could feel the uncomfortable stickiness forming in your undies. So fucking wet. Leaving moist kisses all the way down to your belly button, then she stopped. She looked up at you, cheeks flushed just like yours and her eyes looking for a sign of your consent. She wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable with the way she was exploring your body, feeling it, and touching it. "I'm ready, Ellie. I promise" you repeated, your voice was soft and still timid.

"If you want me to stop, just tell me to, okay?" she told you once again and she didn't resume what she was doing until you gave her a light nod. She spread your legs, and her eyes were immediately drawn to the darker spot of your panties, you were so fucking wet. She hissed something under her breath that you couldn't quite catch. Seeing how wet she made you only served to boost her ego (as if she wasn't cocky already, the last thing this girl needed was a boost of her ego). "God, you're so wet," she couldn't help but voice her thoughts. "Thanks, Einstein, I haven't noticed," you responded with a hint of sarcasm, perhaps hoping to divert attention away from your embarrassment. She chuckled and an amused smile appeared on her dotted face, her brows jolting up. "Don't you give me the attitude" Before you could say anything back, her digits gently pressed on your still-clothed pussy, making your hips jerk away and a little moan escape your lips. Your face was on fire as you registered the lewd sound that accidentally left your lips. "That's what you get," A broad grin of pride spread across her face, and a fleeting pout that she found endearing appeared on your face "Oh, what? You mad at me, now?" she continued to taunt you, you let out a deep sigh and turned your gaze away.

"Shut up — god, why are you so annoying even in moments like this?" You covered your eyes with the sweaty palm of your hand as you spoke, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You could hear her giggle at your shyness, and it was evident that she enjoyed teasing you and playing with your emotions.

"C'mon pretty, m'just messin' with you." but she couldn't stop snickering to herself, finding your reactions quite funny. "Look at me," she commanded in a gentle tone, and you complied; you moved your hand away from your face and looked down at her, who was positioned between your spread thighs. "Want me to stop?" she questioned again, making you huff in response "Ellie. If you ask me that one more time, i swear—"

"Jesus, just making sure, no need to be so feisty about it" her fingers hooked under the waistband of your pink panties, tugging it down and freeing your dripping cunt. "Do I seriously make you this wet?" she was in disbelief, watching the string of precum that connected your pussy to your damp panties she had just pulled down.

"No, I was secretly thinking of Megan Fox, imagining her on top doing naughty things to me," you sarcastically retorted. She gasped dramatically, acting offended. Such a drama queen she was. "I consider that cheating." She played along, keeping that fake offended demeanor on. You laughed softly at her silly expression. "Okay, then, you caught me. Mentally cheating on you right now," you joked.

"I see how it is" You laughed again, and she scoffed, but she wasn't actually pissed at you.

She began kissing your inner thigh, the ache between your thighs becoming almost unbearable. "Els..." you had this whiny hint in your voice, growing visibly impatient, "Hm?" she hummed back, switching to your other thigh, going near your pussy but never actually touching you where you wanted her to. You moved your hips close to her face, but she moved away. "What do you want?" she asked teasingly, playing dumb. Fuck, you hated her guts for doing that. "You know what i want" she clicked her tongue under the roof of her mouth "Don't think I do" you sighed, frustration slowly creeping up inside you "Please?" your voice was delicate, almost as if you were begging her to let you try her fries or asking her to buy you something. She smirked, seeing you all horny and desperate yet still struggling with your words, too shy to tell her what you wanted directly. "Please what?" she encouraged you, that obnoxious cocky grin never leaving her face; she was making fun of you at this point. But you stayed quiet. "Can't read your mind princess, you gotta use your words."

"Touch me?...please?" your voice above a whisper but she heard you, you could tell she did from the satisfied expression casting over her features. "Sorry? Louder. Couldn't hear you" that cunt. You knew she did hear you and that she just wanted to hear it again so, you tried your best to push your shyness aside and please her. "Touch me, Ell-" But she was growing way too impatient, pressing her thumb on your clit, you let out a strangled moan and your hips jerked away at the sudden contact, but she pulled you closer again. Between the two of you, the more impatient one was probably her. Poor baby couldn't even let you say it twice, she was already torturing your aching nub, drawing small circles on it.

"Feeling good?" she questioned, her eyes studying your every reaction to her touch. She knew you felt good but still needed to hear it from you. "Yeah," you breathed out, your breathing becoming more elaborated. "Remember to breathe from your nose, baby. Don't want your heart to go crazy over a little excitement — if it gets too much, tell me." she thoughtfully said. "I'll be fine" you reassured her, grabbing her other hand to squeeze it.

In no time, her lips were on your clit, gently sucking on it. She moaned on it, almost as she she was the one getting head. She could feel her pussy starting to ache, the fabric of her undies sticking to her pussy, but she couldn't help it. The way you sounded, your cute expressions and your pretty pussy were just too much to bare for her. "So fucking beautiful," she mumbled, pulling away from your pussy for a second. She slid a finger inside you and you arched your back, pushing your hips to her face to seek for more contact "This okay, yeah?" her voice was rasp. You whined in response "Ooooh look at her, think she loves me" it took quite a few to understand that she was talking to your pussy instead "God, w-why are you so…" you tried to hide the turmoil in your voice but you interrupted your own words with a slutty moan that left your throat as soon as she pushed her finger deeper into you.

"Fuuuck" you grunted, your eyes rolling to the back of your skull and the grip on her hand tightening. "So responsive," she chuckled. "Ellie, shut..up," you whined, moving your hips slowly to meet her thrusts. "Can't even talk without moaning, so nasty." she snickered, acting like she was totally unaffected by your pretty moans. She was fucking soaked, humping into absolutely nothing, not that you could notice it, too focused on the way she was making you feel. The gushing sounds riverbed throughout Ellie's bedroom, and she absolutely fucking loved it. She loved seeing you like this, whimpering and writhing under her touch, so ethereal, your body was pure art to her.

"M-more" you stuttered, panting a bit, your chest raising and falling quickly "More, huh?" she echoed mockingly, sliding another finger into your little honey jar, wetness dripping down to her knuckles from how wet you were. "Gahh-uhhd" you let out incoherent words, she groaned, feeling your walls clenching around her fingers and feeling her own clenching around absolutely nothing. "Like this, yes?" she questioned in a breathy voice, her brain suddenly struggling to make out sentences that made sense, too mushy to say shit and all because of you. If you only knew how long she waited to see you like this — touch you like this. "Uh-aahh" you trapped little whimpers inside your mouth, biting hard on your bottom lip again. "Nah-uh let me hear you," she immediately scolded you, shaking her head in disapproval, but you didn't listen.

Her face lowered to your pussy, lips attaching to your throbbing clit, teasing it with the tip of her tongue, switching between circling it and sucking it gently. Your mouth hung open, arching your back and bucking your hips against her face as you let out obscene moans. She moaned against your core, a mixture of her own spit and your juices covering her chin. "Taste hmmsoo good" Your other hand reached down to move pieces of her hair out of her face. "Ellie, I-i think I'm gonna-" you trailed off, not that she needed you to tell her, she could feel you squeezing her digits as she kept hitting that soft spot inside you. "Gonna cum, baby? wanna cum for me, beautiful?" she cooed.

"God..I love you so fucking much," she hissed under her breath; you moaned loudly in return, riding her fingers "Babe, m'gonna cum" you squealed, high-pitched moans reverbing throughout her apartment. "i'm here, princess" she cooed, squeezing your hand that she had been holding this entire time, so clingy. She wanted to ensure you knew she was there for you, not only to please you. That little feeling that had been building up in your stomach snapped like a rubber band, milking her fingers as she let you ride your orgasm. Curses falling from both of your lips, your muscles spasming and squeezing her fingers — god if she loved the way your body was reacting to her.

"I know, i know, I'm here baby" she whispered sweetly when a few whiny whimpers left your mouth. When you came down from your high, she withdrew her fingers and sucked them clean, her eyes locked with yours as she did so "You're so nasty" you giggled, feeling yourself blush again "You're the one who came all over my fingers" she teased you, crawling up to kiss your lips. Your tongues tangled together and you could taste yourself on her tongue. You place your hands on her waist, pulling her body closer to yours.

"You must be tired, angel." She reluctantly pulled away, an inch away from your lips as she spoke. "Want me to leave you all wet and needy?" you inquired in disbelief, lifting your brows up at her reluctance. Her eyes silently begging you to touch her, but she still preferred to put your health over her needs. That's how caring and loving she was. "I'm just saying you don't need to push yourself if you feel tired," she repeated.

"Oh, Ellie…" you sighed, pulling her underwear down and taking her by surprise. She seemed to be internally struggling to find the right thing to say, but you preceded her, "Think I can't handle a little fun?" you purred, growing bolder in your actions. You cupped her cunt, feeling all her sweet juices cover your hand; she was so fucking soaked, it was almost unbelievable. "Only if you're sure," she answered, her breath hitching in her throat as she gulped thickly, already trying hard to suppress her cute little moans. "I'm sure you want this," you teased her, the corner of your lips curling up in a smile, almost as if to make fun of her; it was your turn now.

"I do, you know I do," she replied. It was so entertaining to watch her keep her breathing steady. You ran your index and middle finger through her glistening folds and began to tease her puffy clit, rubbing it slowly, almost painfully. "Fuck" she grunted, humping the palm of your hand, desperate to find relief; you hummed back. "Am I doing okay?" you asked innocently; despite your inexperience, you could tell she loved it, and you high-fived yourself for the little mental notes you took while she was touching you just a moment ago. She grabbed your wrist, guiding your fingers to her entrance. "Finger me," she commanded with a raspy voice.

She let out a small gasp when you thrusted into her slowly. "Like this?" you could feel her walls clenching around your inexperienced fingers, "Uh-huh," she bobbed her head, positioning your hand just how she wanted it, guiding you as she rode your fingers. "Fuck, you're so messy — so wet for me," you muttered under your breath, pulling her closer to you; she was supporting her weight on her wobbly knees as she rode your fingers, burying her head into the crook of your neck. Your other hand rested on her hips, holding her in place and not allowing her to move as you kept slamming your fingers into her. The pleasure sounds she let out right into your ear only served to make you wetter and hornier than you already were — if that was even possible. It was almost like your inexperience melted away, with the sole intent of pleasing her. Immaculate sounds left her throat as she chased her orgasm on your fingers, and you couldn't help but groan pitifully after her. Your pussy already yearning for her again, struggling to hold onto the last shreds of sanity. "Just like that." Her voice was weak and breathy, it was fucking music to your ears, making you feel all types of things inside your tummy, butterflies perhaps? She couldn't even speak properly, struggling to suppress her slutty whimpers. Muttering filthy curses under her breath as you picked up the pace, hitting that spongy spot over and over; you could feel her whole body tremble and squirm in your hands. What made it better was knowing that you were causing it.

"You feel so good, El," you whispered in her ear, kissing all the cute little freckles spattered on her bare shoulder and collarbone "'m gonna cum" she gasped, her whimpers becoming more frequent and louder. Who knew she'd become a whiny mess when close to her orgasm, but for some reason, you found it adorable — like her life depended entirely on your fingers, cute wispy brows furrowed together in concentration. "Gonna cum on my fingers, pretty?" you purred. "Please…" she sounded so fucking needy it was almost ridiculous, but you slowed down instead, earning a groan from her part "Nonono, don't stop, pleaseplease," Her words were rushed, sounding like a kid who had just lost the most precious possession. "What is it that you said? Words, right? — you gonna be a good girl and ask or you just gonna cum like that?" for some reason, the idea of playing with her in such a vulnerable state turned you on. You wanted to see how far you could push her. She let out a shaky breath. "Can't believe you're doing this." She slowly shook her head in disbelief. Your digits pressed on the spot that almost made her squirt, and she squirmed. "Words." You spoke with a firmer tone, but you still had a playful, teasing smirk on your lips. "Swear to fucking god— next time, I won't go so easy on you," uttering a threatening remark followed by an imperceptible scoff. "I never asked you to go easy on me." Your pace slowed down even more, and she frowned at you.

"Can I cum? on your fingers? please." her chest heaving with each ragged breath. Her eyes were wide and glossy, her pupils dilated with desperation. "Such a goood girl El, such a good girl…cum for me" but all she could do was crash her lips against yours, leaving you no choice but swallow all her little noises. Her thighs trembled with each thrust, her legs parting slightly to allow better access as your fingers kept thrusting in and out of her wetness harder and faster, causing her to moan into your mouth.

When she came down from her high she collapsed against you, your bodies glistening with sweat, still breathing unevenly. The first thing she said when her breathing went back to normal was "I think I'm gonna marry you," before dissolving into a fit of giggles. You couldn't help but chuckle along with her. "I'm flattered. I guess you liked it then?" you responded, wrapping your arms around her. She snuggled into your chest, a contented smile on her face. "If I liked it?" she repeated, incredulous. You laughed softly, "Well, did you?"

"You were lying when you said it was your first time, weren't you?" she asked teasingly, furrowing her eyebrows at you and looking at you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. "I take that as a compliment," you smirked, not giving her a straight answer, her eyes carefully studied your features, analyzing every crease and contour, searching for any sign of deception "No, seriously. Were you a virgin?" she asked again, still in disbelief "I guess you'll never know," you said, teasing her further. "Come on. I'm your girlfriend. I'm supposed to know," she said, acting dramatic and waving her hands in the air. "Are you?" you asked teasingly, and she gasped in mock offense. "Excuse you? Am I not your girlfriend?" she asked, pretending to be hurt. You couldn't help but giggle. "I meant...are you supposed to know?" you teased her curiosity. "Pffttt whatever," she said, pretending to be offended and scooting away from you. You continued laughing at her antics. "Babe, where are you going?" you asked, still chuckling as you reached for her tattooed forearm and pulled her back towards you. "Girlfriends tell each other everything," she pouted playfully. "Right. Let's watch Jurassic Park and cuddle," you suggested, grabbing the remote to put the movie on.

You shared a bond that was unbreakable, and every experience you had together only brought you closer as if there was an invisible red string that seemed to connect the two of you, always pulling you closer and closer with each passing day. Your love for each other was like a never-ending flame that grew brighter with time. She never really stopped surprising you with little thoughtful gifts, and she even drew sketches of you when you weren't looking, and you both looked forward to creating new adventures together. She was always this huge simp for you, your number one supporter and fan.

After completing university, she asked you to move into her small but cozy apartment, which was basically a reflection of her personality. The walls were adorned with paintings she had made, stacks of comic books on her shelves, action figures, and her favorite movies and games collection. It was a delightful mishmash of all the things she loved. And slowly, your belongings started to mix in with hers. Her lonely toothbrush now had a companion, and her sneakers left by the door had an extra pair of shoes right next to them — your shoes. The dirty laundry was now a mix of colorful pink clothes and pastel colors, while hers were mostly grey or dark clothes. The wall hooks had more jackets hanging on them, and cute little stuffed animals were carefully placed on her your bed. The shelves filled with cute little plants that you both lovingly cared for, filling the empty gaps between an action figure and another. Living with her was a dream come true; you couldn't have been happier. You both had created a space that was uniquely yours, filled with love and a familiar warmth, it felt like family.

And before you knew it a new member joined your little family — a golden retriever. You had always dreamt of having a dog, but your parents never allowed you to have one when you were a kid. You had been talking about how much you loved the idea of having a furball running around your little apartment, ever since, Ellie had been secretly planning to surprise you with a cute little puppy. She had subtly asked you what kind of dog you would like, and she started doing her research. She had never owned a dog before, so she wanted to learn as much as possible about what puppies needed. Puppies required more than just toys and cuddles, after all they needed proper nutrition, and she was confused about what kind of food to get for the puppy. She went to the grocery store and found a wide variety of puppy food with different flavors and vitamins. After careful consideration, she picked out what she thought was the best one for the puppy. One day, she told you that she was staying out late for work; in reality, the poor baby had to drive for an hour to get the exact puppy she had seen on social media (Facebook, to be exact, Joel had helped her with that). The puppy was a beautiful golden retriever with a shiny coat and an adorable face. The drive back home with the puppy was mostly quiet, except for her talking to the honey-furred baby that sat there in the passenger seat in silence, looking at her lovingly.

The puppy's big, brown eyes had already stolen her heart, and she found herself speaking in a silly, high-pitched voice "I just know she's gonna love you," she cooed, her words directed at the adorable pup. "You're such a good girl, aren't ya?" she continued, praising the puppy for every little thing she did, even breathing. "You better not be stealing her from me too much, though, or else…" she trailed off, her voice filled with mock threats. But her playful words quickly turned to more affectionate ones as she gazed into the puppy's sweet eyes. "Gosh, you're so fuckin' cute," she whispered, her fingers gently caressing the puppy's soft fur while the other remained on the steering wheel "Wonder what your name will be," she hummed, tapping her fingers lightly on the wheel. She began to sing a song she had just made up on the spot, directed at the little furball who was wiggling her tail in excitement. "My cute little shrimp," she sang, her voice filled with love and affection, but when the puppy let out a little whine at her singing, she couldn't help but laugh at herself. "What? Am I that much of a bad singer?" she joked, her voice filled with self-deprecating humor. "Oof, tough crowd," she added, chuckling at her own joke "Just wait till I show you my guitar skills, you little shit."

When she finally made it to your apartment, she had to carry the little shrimp all the way up to the stairs cause the puppy was too scared to climb them and the elevator was currently broken. She had to take small steps to make sure she wouldn't trip over her own feet or something like that. "So heavy," she muttered under her breath before putting the pup down, her arms aching. She unlocked the door and you immediately called out your name. "You home, baby?" she heard from the kitchen, where she assumed you were washing the dishes because she could hear the sound of clinking plates. She responded, "Could you come here real quick? need your help with something." She left the dog outside on the doorstep, behind the wall and out of your sight.

You shouted from the kitchen, "Give me a second," before approaching her. She handed you a plastic bag filled with dog toys and bowls. You looked at her in confusion since you didn't own a pet. "What's this for?" you asked, puzzled. She didn't reply but simply moved to the side and clicked her tongue multiple times. The fur ball appeared and ran to you wiggling her tail. You slapped your hand on your mouth in disbelief, and your eyes widened in surprise, soon welling up with tears.

You got on your knees and held the pup close to you, hugging the fur ball tightly. "Oh my fucking god, iloveyouiloveyou," you kept rambling between cute sniffles, and she couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. "Surprise, babe," she said with a small smile, kneeling down to pet the puppy in your arms. The puppy was small and soft, with big brown eyes and tiny paws. You couldn't believe how adorable she was.

"I love you so fucking much. She is so fucking cute. I can't believe it. I'm a mother now," you said, tears of joy running down your cheeks. She chuckled at your words, happy to see you so happy. "Yep, we're parents now," she played along, scratching the dog behind her ear. "What're we naming her?" she asked then, wiping the tears off your face with her thumb.

"Maple?" you sniffled hard, "Maple, I like Maple." You looked down at the little pup in your arms, and she looked up at you with innocent eyes.

Ever since the beginning, it was clear that Maple was more than just a pet; she was a member of your family. She was such a beautiful and intelligent dog, whenever you or Ellie came home, Maple would be the first to greet you with a wagging tail and excited barks that would fill the room with her infectious energy. She would jump up, her paws dancing in the air, and nuzzle her wet nose against your hand begging for cuddles and kisses. But Maple's abilities went beyond just being a dog. She had an incredible intuition that seemed almost human-like, and had a sixth sense when it came to reading emotions. She always seemed to sense whenever your heart was going a little too crazy and would nudge you with her nose to make you sit down. But your heartbeat wasn't the only thing she could sense; whenever Ellie was about to have a panic attack she could feel it, and if she was having one and you weren't by her side, she would come get you.

You remembered the first time this happened. It was a dark and stormy night, and you and Ellie had just gone to bed. You were sound asleep when Maple jumped up on the bed and began licking your face frantically. You thought she needed to go outside, so you groaned, "Babe, think Maple needs to-" You started, your voice still thick with sleep, but when your hand landed on the empty mattress instead of your girlfriend's shoulder, you instantly woke up.

Following Maple to the bathroom, you found Ellie sitting on the floor, tears streaming down her freckled face, and her breathing uneven. You knelt down in front of her and spoke to her softly, using a soothing tone to calm her down. You knew better than just to touch her; she seemed too absent and lost in her own nightmare to welcome such an invasion. "El, hey…I'm here, honey." As your gentle cooing reached her ears, she seemed to awaken from a trance, her terrified eyes locked with yours, fear etched across her beautiful features. "Hi baby, it's okay." you tried to calm her down, "i'm here, okay?" she was trembling with fear, and your heart sank. You gently placed your hand on her knee and tried to reassure her that everything was going to be okay. With a soft and soothing voice, you said, "You're safe now...let's take a deep breath together, alright?" You could see the tears streaming down her face as she tried her best to mimic your deep breaths. You kept encouraging her to take deep breaths in and out, and she slowly began to calm down. Maple sat in the corner of the bathroom, watching over Ellie with a concerned expression. When Ellie finally calmed down, you sat down next to her and pulled her into a tight embrace. "I'm here for you," you felt her body relax and her breathing steady. She leaned into your touch, and you could feel the tension in her body slowly dissipating. You were her anchor, her everything. You could feel her heartbeat slowing down as she rested her head on your chest, listening to the rhythm of your breathing. You kissed the top of her head tenderly, and she closed her eyes, taking in your scent. Suddenly, she rasped out, "I love you," her voice sounded weak, you knew she was exhausted "I love you more — Feeling better?" You ran your fingers through her messy hair, and she gave you a small nod in response. The golden furball walked to Ellie's other side and laid down, placing her head on her thigh. Ellie smiled weakly and petted her gently "My two favorite girls," you joked with a soft tone, trying to lighten the mood. An airy scoff left her nose as all three of you sat there, cuddling each other.

Maple was an essential part of your family. She was always there, no matter where you went. Sundays were extra special because Ellie would be at home all day. You would spend those days soaking up all her attention and going to the beach with her and Maple, your cute little meatball. There was nothing better than lounging under the warm afternoon sun, and Ellie bringing a big umbrella to shield you from the heat. While you played with Maple, she would often strum her guitar or sketch the two of you, looking at you with heart eyes as she captured the moment on paper. The sound of your laughter would fill the air, as you threw the frisbee to Maple and enjoyed the perfect beach day with Ellie by your side. You were all she ever wanted and she was all you ever wished for.

That's why she felt the need to take your relationship to the next level.

"Baaaabe" you shouted from the living room while browsing through the countless titles on Netflix. "Yeah?" Your girlfriend responded from the kitchen, her voice echoing through the cozy apartment as she paced around, probably making you something to drink. "What do you wanna watch?" your eyes casted across the big TV screen, the multiple titles illuminate your face, making it difficult to choose just one. You heard a sigh from the other side of the couch and looked over to see your beloved dog, Maple, ready to nap after a long day of work. poor dog.

"Uhhh…dunno, a horror movie?" she suggested, sounding unsure. "Wow, thanks for the help, Ellie. Always so useful," You retorted in a fake annoyed tone "Do you remember that new movie with Jennifer Lawrence I told you I wanted to watch?" she asked after a few moments of pondering, emerging from the kitchen with two steaming mugs in her hands. You raised an eyebrow at her and asked, "So, you wanna watch it for her, huh?" She laughed at your words and rolled her eyes. "C'mon, you told me to pick something, and I did," she explained handing you one of the mugs. "Careful, it's hot." You'd never seen this mug before, Ellie was obsessed with collecting new ones, so you didn't really pay attention to it. "Okay, fine, Jennifer Lawrence, it is," you said as you selected the movie she suggested. "Hi, baby," you heard her say in a high-pitched voice, and when you looked at her, you realized she was talking to the dog. "Hi baby? really? I'm literally right here." She giggled at your response and scooted closer to you, kissing your cheek. "Hi baby," she repeated her words, but this time in a sultry tone "Better."

You took another sip of your drink, but you could feel her gaze lingering on you. When you turned to look at her, she quickly averted her eyes and pretended to be interested in the TV. "What?" you asked, brows furrowing in confusion. "What?" she echoed back, acting like she hadn't been staring at you for the last 15 minutes. "No, you what" you repeated, her eyes darting from the mug in your hands to you. "You done with that yet?" she questioned, seeming almost too impatient. "Huh?" she cleared her throat, eyes wandering nervously around the living room for a few seconds before returning them to you again. "Are you done with your latte? Want me to make you more?" she rephrased it, trying to sound less nervous. You looked down at your mug for a second "Not yet"

Her eyes remained glued on you, eagerly awaiting for something, a reaction perhaps, you couldn't tell, she was just acting weird as hell. "Done?" she asked for the third time in a row, after every five seconds, but to her, it felt like an eternity. "Ellie, I swear—" You let out an exasperated sigh "What?" she replied, her voice laced with innocence. "No, seriously. You tryna poison me or something?" you joked,and she simply scoffed at your words and rolled her eyes at you. "Just drink it fast, god," she demanded, her impatience showing. As you take the last sip, your eyes caught a glimpse of a few letters printed on the bottom of the mug.

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the words

Will you marry me?

You felt tears welling up in your eyes, and before you could even process what was happening, you jumped into her lap, crying in her arms. She wrapped her arms around you tightly, and you could feel her heart beating in sync with yours. "Yesyesyesyes" you had whispered between sobs, your voice choked with emotion. Her eyes lit up with joy and she pulled away, revealing a small diamond ring in her hand. You looked at her in awe, realizing that that was the moment you had been waiting for your entire life. The woman of your dreams had asked you to spend the rest of your life with her, and you couldn't have been happier.

"I love you so much," you sobbed, tears streaming down your face as you watched her hands sliding the ring on your finger. She chuckled through her own tears and replied, "I think I love you even more." You sniffled and cupped her face, saying, "I love you with all my heart."

Ellie being Ellie, couldn't help but make a joke about that. She looked at you with a playful smirk on her face; she wiggled her eyebrows up and down and said, "All your heart, huh?"

With a grin, you replied, "It's beating like crazy for you." Then she asked if you wanted to hear a joke from her pun book, but you knew it was a rhetorical question. You prepared yourself for the inevitable dumb joke she was about to tell. "Ellie, I thought we talked about this." You fake scolded her, but she couldn't hold back her smile as she started her joke, almost as if she was about to make the funniest joke ever but everyone who knew Ellie knew that her jokes were...questionable. "Are you pulmonary embolism?" she proceeded, barely containing her laughter.

"Oh no," you frowned, rubbing your forehead. She then delivered the punchline with a wide smile, all proud of herself "Because you take my breath away." You looked at her with a deadpan expression and let out a sigh. You shook your head, and said "Can't believe I'm marrying you," trying to hide the smile that was starting to form on your lips. Ellie looked at you with a cocky grin "Right? I'm great like that — Talented, charming, great jokes...what else could you possibly want?" Rolling your eyes, you responded, "fancy package, lucky me"

After your laughter had subsided, you gazed into her captivating green eyes with a smile filled with affection. You were so deeply in love that it felt almost painful. You could hardly believe how fortunate you were to have found each other. The thought of spending the rest of your lives together filled you with joy and excitement. Both of you leaned in simultaneously, eager to feel the warmth of each other's lips in a tender and passionate kiss.

She was the person who made your life complete. You felt like you had been waiting for her all your life; your life always felt so dull and empty and you never understood why or what it was missing, until you met her. She was your soulmate, your best friend, and the love of your life. You couldn't imagine spending a single day without her by your side. She was the one who made everything better, who made you laugh with her stupid and corny puns when you wanted to cry, who held your hand when you needed comfort. You knew that you could face anything as long as she was with you. You were grateful for every moment you spent together and looked forward to spending the rest of your life with her.

On your wedding day, the weather was perfect, with clear skies and a gentle breeze that carried the scent of flowers from the nearby garden. It felt like a dream come true, and you couldn't believe the day had finally arrived. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation as you prepared to marry the love of your life. Sure, you were exhausted at the end of the day, but it was all worth it.

As you walked down the aisle, you saw everyone you loved and cared for, all gathered in one place to celebrate your special day. Ellie's closest friends, Dina and Jesse, Joel, your parents, and all your friends were there, beaming with joy and happiness. You were wearing a beautiful white dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, and Ellie couldn't help but cry when she saw you. Her dad rubbed her back, trying to calm the poor baby down, but the tears kept streaming down her face. You were a vision, and she couldn't believe how lucky she was to have you. Ellie was equally breathtaking in her suit, looking sharp and elegant, you couldn't take your eyes off her, she was so fucking fine. You exchanged vows, and it took her a while to finish reading hers, as she was choked up with sobs and emotions. You tried to comfort her by holding her trembling hands, but she was just a wreck.

When the time came for you to kiss your bride, the celebrant said, "You may now kiss your bride." Ellie looked at you with teary eyes, and you both giggled as you leaned in for a kiss, both of you smiling against each other's lips. That moment marked the beginning of your journey together as a married couple, but what mattered most was that you were both committed to being there for each other no matter what.

#ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #lesbianism #naughty dog #ellie williams x you #the last of us 2 #tlou 2 #tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie smut #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams tlou #tlou x you #tlou x reader #tlou x y/n #ellie tlou x reader #tlou ellie #tlou part 2 #wlw #sapphic #lesbian #tlou ellie williams

[charmercharm3r]

Make Love, Not Porn

Play Time!

HHJ

Masterlist, Series Masterlist

18+ content — minors, do not interact.

wc: 3.8k

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see.

warnings: barista!hyunjin x cam girl!reader, smut, explicit sexual content, masturbation (m, f), he's a little obsessed, easing into the smuttier smut if that's even a thing.

Live : Play Time!

Next Scheduled Broadcast : Heat Signature

☆ﾟ

Rule number one; everybody is temporary.

There is no love in this industry, no trust, no friends, only coworkers that all want the same thing. Sometimes you work with them more than once, other times– most times, it’s a one-and-done deal.

They never want to stay anyways, you learned that lesson the hard way. It’s why you set up such a tough wall to break through, there’s no point in befriending anyone on your side of the pond.

It’s scary, really, how quickly you can be moaning someone’s name, kissing them like you need them to breathe, touching and feeling them as intimately as someone who truly was in love. Then as soon as the livestream ends, you can’t remember what their lips feel like and everything smells like latex and sweat. You offer them some water, snacks, a shower. They usually decline. Minutes later, your front door is shutting and you’re alone once again.

No one ever intends on getting into porn, you don’t even remember the details on how you ended up here. Your follower count had risen overnight and before you knew it, that one video had gotten you more money in a week than a month’s worth of minimum wage ever did. The humiliation was nonexistent considering you hadn’t even posted yourself naked that first time, if anything you were excited to post again. Who knew a video of you just sitting in a chair, playing with yourself under your skirt with your knees pressed closed would take off so rapidly. That thirty second video changed your life.

– fuck, who is this?? are they new??

– thats so hot. face reveal?

– show us your tits

– god i wanna fuck u so bad

– suck my dick pls

Those comments didn’t bother you, it was a little flattering if you were being honest with yourself. People wanted you, they don’t even know your real name, have never seen your face or what you look like in the sunlight. They don’t know you and yet, you’re everything to them, so much so that they pay you for your time, and body. They fill your wallet just for you to read their comment out loud, attention whores for you. And you love it. For some reason, their praise is much more fulfilling than anyone you've guested on your livestreams.

Recently, though, you’ve stopped bringing people on, not much to your viewer’s disapproval. There was more interaction and less vulgarity, like they wanted you to actually speak to them rather than just stuff your pussy with whatever new dildo you’d been gifted in your PO box.

You hadn’t planned on having such a personal stream today, you honestly just wanted the relief and thought your viewers would have a good time. But for some reason, the comments were less about getting you to take your clothes off and more about why your voice was shaking.

“It’s okay, I’m okay. Really!” Even you could hear the subtle octave change. “If you wanted me to cry, you could’ve just said please. You know I’ll do anything for you.” 

Perhaps the forced sultriness of your voice worked its charm, the comments quickly switched back to their normal obscenities once you started to unbutton your top. Truthfully, you preferred when they asked you to get naked, it was a lot easier to do than to admit what it was you were really lacking. Honest companionship is the rarest thing.

Rule number two: no identifying features.

Even if you weren’t ashamed, your job is still taboo. No one and everyone knew what it was you did. Your best friend helped you pick lingerie and background mood lighting, your parents thought you were an office worker. Strangers have seen your most private parts, you only allow your grandma to give you a kiss on the cheek during Christmas. Safe to say your occupation was strictly need-to-know.

You’re glad you started live streaming before deciding to get any tattoos, running the risk of someone stopping you in the middle of the street was the most terrifying thing you could imagine happening. Naturally, you avoided getting anything at all once your streams started to really take off.

There was nothing you wore to accessorize unless a patron paid for it in advance, that was always done a week before streams and the contact with the patron was never more than a simple google form and an email from your business account to confirm. Other than that, you were a blank canvas, just a body with a voice that left more to the imagination than you would think. If your viewers were happy, you were happy.

“What do you think of my new nail color? A special someone picked it out for me,” you held out your hands to display the pretty shine, twiddling your fingers. The comments went crazy, “no, no, not anyone like that, c’mon! You know you’re my number one. But I think you should all give lovely user callingherdaddy a thank you for picking it out. Thank you, sir.”

You took the polish off the next morning.

Rule number three: be consistent.

Nothing kills a steady income more than ghosting the ones that put the money in your pocket. You stuck to a strict schedule of three streams every week and frequent posts on your socials. The stuff you posted on your social media wasn’t even related to your work on camming, but it doesn’t hurt when they leave a couple nice comments. 

With a schedule and job like yours, you need a little bit of normalcy. Self employed, you don’t have a real routine when you aren’t streaming. It was starting to make you feel lazy, a bit lethargic, and overall unmotivated.

It wasn’t until recently did you decide to start doing normal people things, like waking up at 7 a.m., doing a mini work out, grocery shopping in the morning, even getting yourself a coffee from the shop near your house as a treat. Doing this was nice, you felt good, your head was clearer. Hell, you even got excited when it came time to do your cams because you felt so full of energy.

You had only been to the coffee shop once or twice before, but to get yourself to keep the routine, you told yourself you’d go every day for the next two weeks. Afterall, it only takes 21 days to form a habit.

It was packed, as usual for a morning weekday. There were only about six baristas working, all scurrying about the bar to get through the morning rush. You liked watching them, mindlessly completing drinks in such a way that made you a little jealous. Most of them seemed your age, obviously you knew that they couldn’t have all had perfect lives, but at least this part of their day was something they could openly complain about.

Were you really jealous? Of normal people? You had to be insane.

Shaking your head, you walked further into the shop and waited in line. You thought nothing of it, placing your order, “iced chai with three blonde shots, please,” and handed the barista the card, “thank you.”

You barely looked up at him, only when he held onto your card a little longer as you tried to take it back did you make eye contact. A little awkward, the barista was staring at you with wide eyes. He was handsome, too handsome to be working behind the counter. Long black hair framed his face nicely, pretty plump lips, and an endearing little mole under his eye that made his siren stare only slightly less intimidating. Yeah, handsome.

He didn’t look away even after he let you take your card back.

“S– sorry. You look like–”

“It’s okay. Thanks again.” You hurried away as fast as you could. He couldn’t have known who you were, right? Not a chance, you have never shown your face. You were wearing too many clothes for any particular body part to be recognizable. It’s just a coincidence.

Either way, the minor interaction with the barista scared you into hiding again, forgetting going out for anything else you had planned and deciding to hole away at home.

You had a livestream to do later anyways, focus on that. There were a few hours left for you to kill before turning on the camera, now would be as good a time as any to set up.

It wasn’t much that you did, mostly just thinking of what it was you thought viewers would like to see for the day. An hour before the scheduled stream, you set up a waiting room on the website that hinted at what the day’s theme would be. Today you thought you’d go a little easy on the eyes; “live soon, hardcandysweetheart: play time! <3”

A typical stream would start off soft, greeting viewers like any other meeting. You’d ask how their day was, if there was anything in particular they wanted to do or talk about, some answered genuinely while others urged you to strip. You liked the ones that asked you how your day was, too, and enjoyed sharing your thoughts with them. Though, it was no secret what everyone was here for, even if sometimes– just sometimes, you liked what came before taking off your clothes more than anything.

“I have a few things in mind for play time today, I’d like to hear what you guys think. Would you prefer this,” in your hand, you held up your favorite vibrator, big and baby pink. “Or this?” in the other, a new grinder that resembled the shape of a tentacle with the sucker-side up.

Comment section didn’t slow down as soon as you showed the second toy. “I thought you might like this one. I got it just for you! I’m excited to try it out with you.”

– im so fucking hard

– i wanna see ur pussy

– thats so nice, ur sweet

“Slow down! Haha, we’re gonna take our time,” you laughed away the weird feeling in your chest as you read the fleeing comments. “You’re so impatient today, lovely. Did you have a hard day? I know I did,” you slowly peeled down the blouse you wore, letting it hang off your shoulders to expose your bare shoulders. It seemed redundant to wear a bra, but you kept the shirt covering your breasts for dramatic effect, hard nipples peaking through.

“I just wanna take it a little more… gentler, if that’s alright.” The camera was angled to cut off at your neck to avoid showing your face, but you bit your lip anyways as you held up the grinder. “It’s a little out of my comfort zone, honestly. I’ve never told you about this fantasy before.” You ran your finger down the rubber center, feeling the many little suction cups bend.

You giggled as you came to the swirled tip of the tentacle, playing with the way it curled and how pliable it was. “When I ordered this, they let me choose the color. I think pink suits me, don’t you? But I also thought, maybe blue? Or black… but then it would be too hard for you to see, right?”

As you spoke, you laid the grinder between your legs but not quite touching it. With two fingers, you stroked it the same way you would your own pussy. Your other free hand was doing just that right behind the toy and beneath the length of your shirt, feeling your wetness building up with your hand down your panties. “Oh my, just talking to you– my underwear is soaked!” The giggle that left your lips was genuine, you didn’t expect to work yourself up so quickly.

You stole your fingers from your cunt and showed it to the camera, spreading them to let your viewers see the slick coating shine in the soft lighting. “Heh, told ya I was excited. You make me like this.”

When you started to really get going it was hard to pay attention to the comments, you tended to get a little lost until you finally came. Like now, you brought the toy closer to your core, lightly lifting yourself to sit on it. As soon as you did, you let out a whimper.

Hyunjin had never felt so embarrassed in his life. He doesn’t even know why, he couldn’t have been sure of anything.

Except he was. He was 100% sure, plus another 10% for good measure. He hadn’t even known about the site for long, you were just his favorite. He’d found hardcandysweetheart and never bothered to look anywhere else.

You were just another customer at first, a pretty one that caught his attention. He noticed you in line and had every intention of flirting and possibly asking for you to sign up for the rewards program with them just so he could use that as an excuse to get your number. Then you spoke.

All you fucking did was speak. “Please,” and “thank you,” and Hyunjin fucking crumbled.

Jesus, he must have looked like an idiot. He knows he did, but he was star struck. Fanboying, red in the face with embarrassment, about to fold at the knees, and hard as a fucking rock all at the same time. He had to excuse himself to the restroom as soon as you left just to get his boner to go away.

If it really was you– and he hoped to god it wasn’t– he’ll never forget such a pretty face.

Which is why he turned on notifications for your stream. He knew your schedule by heart but he needed to be sure that it was your voice he heard. As soon as he got home from his shift, clothes came off and he was sat in bed with his laptop nearby, just waiting for the ping notification from you.

God, it was you. As soon as he heard you through his headphones, it confirmed what he already knew.

What a kind voice, supple, soft, he could listen to you for hours– he has listened to you for hours. Sometimes he wished you could do live streams of just you talking, you never even had to take your clothes off. Now that he knew what you looked like, Hyunjin’s heartbeat faster than it ever did when you made conversation.

It was the way you did, as though you were speaking to him and only him. The image he created of you in his head looked like it was thought up by a child in comparison to seeing you in real life. He could put a face to the voice now, he wasn’t even thinking about your body. Just your voice.

“You make me like this,” you said in almost a whisper, tone cracking just a little the more you sat on the toy.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but palm at himself, not entirely stroking but moving at the same pace. This was a team effort, in his mind. You made him crazy, as he did to you. That was his fantasy. You always spoke with so much love in your voice, as though you truly cared for him and it got him harder than any other kind of porn ever could.

Was that really all it took? Was he that pathetic? Someone who didn’t even know who he was, talking to an ocean of people that all saw the same thing he did, and suddenly it’s the only thing that can make him cum.

He can’t even complain now, he’s seen you. That’s enough spank bank to last him a lifetime if you ever suddenly decided to stop camming. Shit– he hopes he didn’t just manifest that into existence.

The white button up top draped in front of your cunt to hide away from view. That’s alright, you said you were taking it slow today. Your hips slowly pushed forward and back, hands gripping tightly at the armrests of your uncomfortable looking desk chair. Hyunjin thought it was kind of cute how you would still cam in the same seat as you did when he found your first video. 

His laptop on his abdomen concealed the view of his cock leaking, but the way you were sat on screen, he could envision it was him you were sitting on instead. That’s exactly what he imagined as you rocked faster into the toy, lifting your shirt and balling it in your fist to show that your wetness had spread to the front of your panties. Hyunjin didn’t even mind that the bold pink tentacle blocking a bit of the view, you were getting so into it that he hardly noticed anymore.

Hyunjin fumbled to find his dick, slowly beginning to squeeze the head as you turned to shorter and quicker ruts towards the front of the toy where the tentacle curled up. You moaned loudly, making him do so as well in return. “Fuck, I ruined this pair, didn’t I?”

Your cute laugh had Hyunjin breaking out into a smirk, “that’s okay,” he whispered to no one but himself.

“I should take it off but,” you rolled your hips again with a whine, “I kinda want you to work for it.”

The tips in the corner of the page were pinging like crazy as soon as you said that. He himself tapped the button rapidly and paid no mind to how his account balance shot down.

“C’mon now, don’t be shy. It’s just one little word that I wanna hear. I’ll say it first, if that makes you feel better.” The speed of your hips picked up a little, in turn Hyunjin let his fist slowly work up and down, no faster than you, of course.

“Please. Please, is the word I’m looking for, lovely. Say it, just once.”

Fuck, he couldn’t help speeding up just a little. He loved the way you said it, even more the way you commanded him to say it as well. “Please,” the whimper came out breathy and uneven as the precum lubricated his cock more.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Hyunjin shook his head, no. 

“No, it wasn’t. Look what happens when you ask nicely,” you stood from your seat just to pull off the flimsy fabric, sitting fully back down on the toy and holding up the soaked pair with another chuckle. “You get nice things.”

Hyunjin could hear how wet you really were now, every lewd sound that came from you rubbing yourself back and forth on the grinder. You still didn’t let him– them– see you fully. He wasn’t even sure if you’d expose yourself at all this stream. Still, his fist picked up speed as you did, taking in every grunt you let out when you’d hit a particularly good spot. Hyunjin kept his eyes on you the whole time, memorizing the way you moved, what angle made you tick.

“C’mon lovely, I know you can do better than that.”

You were referring to the tip counter, but Hyunjin took it as he can do better than that. His other hand reached around the laptop, down to cup his balls as he worked his cock faster, occasionally running his fingers over the head for a break in stimulation. Somehow he managed to stop touching himself for a split second to rapid fire extra tips when they slowed down.

“Oh, someone wants a little extra attention today. What do I call you, lovely?” Hyunjin wasn’t sure if you were speaking to him, though he hoped and typed a nickname anyways. “Baby? That’s cute. Thank you, baby, you’re so sweet.”

His hand instantly returned to his dick, not caring about the speed anymore, instead wanting to cum to the sound of your voice. He quickly tapped the tip button a few more times and you giggled, “baby, you’re spoiling me. Here, since you’re being so nice,” you lifted the hem of your shirt to put your bare cunt on display, seemingly tucking the end of it into your mouth.

Hyunjin could see it so clearly, your pretty lips drooling onto the fabric, biting it to contain the moans that wanted to slip past. Fuck, he was going insane, wet, slick noises from his animalistic fisting on his cock almost surpassing the volume of your voice in his headphones. 

He just watched now, listened intently to how good you were making yourself feel and it made his body light a fire. You were clearly getting closer as well, forgetting the dirty talk and humping away at the toy with little to no regard for who was watching. Hyunjin loved this side of you the most, when you couldn’t think of anything other than the impending pleasure. He could imagine your eyes rolling back, the furrow in your brow and beads of sweat dripping down your temples as you came nearer to falling over the edge. Your hands moved to grip the edge of the seat, aiding in pushing your body forward and back harder against the grinder and Hyunjin was jerking himself with a hotter fervor. Your muffled cries echoed in his head– he was making you feel like this, he was the one you were using to please yourself, he was the one you thought of as you came all over his cock.

Hyunjin suddenly held his breath and let his release take over his body, squeezing and pumping the tip of his cock as he spurt his seed all over his stomach and back of his computer. By the time he’d come to, opened his eyes, and regained his breath, you were slumped back in your chair and panting heavily. He missed your grand finale, but that was okay with him, you came at the same time. Even in post nut clarity, he wanted to hear your voice. More than that, he wanted to hold you, run his fingers through your hair, kiss you until you were breathless all over again.

Hyunjin’s shaky hand found the tip button again and tapped.

“Thank you, baby.” He smiled.

You groaned and found the strength to steal the toy from your aching cunt, holding it up for the camera to see it glistening with your essence. Laughing, “this was fun, wasn’t it? I enjoyed myself, I might have to buy more of these.” You tossed it onto the desk and suddenly seemed shy, tugging your shirt as far down as you could without exposing more skin. “Until next time, lovely. I’ll miss you.” You waved your dainty fingers at the camera, doing your signature sign off, and the screen went black.

Hyunjin’s head fell back into his pillows, staring at the ceiling trying to understand all the emotions he just rushed through. 

He couldn’t compute them even if he tried. All he knew was that he was excited to go to work tomorrow morning, hoping that whatever god heard his plea, begging that you’ll come in.

When he went to shut his laptop, his fingers smeared the warm mess that was slowly dripping. “Fuck— ew,” and he hurried to clean up, alone once again.

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

#stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids fanfic #skz #skz smut #skz fanfic #stray kids hyunjin #skz hyunjin #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #skz fluff #skz angst #hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x yn #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x y/n #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz imagine #stray kids imagine #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfiction

[smileysuh]

Fix You

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. “As a member of 53V3NT33N, I have two different states of mind coded into me, aggression and admiration. To love something, to admire it, is to feel aggressive when it’s questioned, to want to control it, if even for a little while- it’s the need to consume it, endlessly, as my fans consume and control me as an automaton. Even though I’m a member of a group, there’s a distance. Automatons can never truly motivate each other because our motivations are based on external human needs, it’s built into us- We can see when humans need us, and we do what we can to fix that need… I know you need me, the way I’ve needed you since I got here.”

tw/cw. unprotected sex with an AI robot, virgin!Mingyu, big dick!Mingyu, Mingyu's body is perfect, hand job, blow job, deep throating, pussy eating, fingering, flavored cum, praise, breast worship, switchy/submissive!Mingyu, multiple orgasms, slight overstim, AI slavery/working philosophical issues, risk of AI termination/job loss, etc...

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 15.5k I collab. link

🍭 aus. automaton/ai au, ai!Mingyu, robotics behavioral researcher!y/n, wellness center, future au, Promethean theory, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. i was so excited when @idyllic-ghost announced this collab in @svthub. Had a great time creating this world and working with everyone through the Discord server :) Bee was also such a big help as beta reader, they were such a good collab team leader, so big thank you to @idyllic-ghost 💕

As a top mechanic at an automaton rehab center, you’d heard about the supposed ‘break out’ of thirteen level one AI robots from their management facility. In fact, people all across the galaxy had heard about it, with the attractive faces of every member of the idol group 53V3NT33N plastered on billboards, tvs and any screen possible-

However, the last place you thought you’d see the stunning features of M1NGYU would be on your briefing tablet not two days after what some reporters are calling ‘the biggest breach of level one automatons across the galaxy in centuries.’

“How-” you swallow thickly, eyes shifting from your tablet to look at your boss. “How did he get caught so fast?”

“Mingyu has been malfunctioning for months,” Yoongi explains. “Strength miscalculations during concerts, collaborating in the break out attempt, his aggressive behaviors have been more frequent- but if there’s one thing that can be said for an automaton that balances aggression and admiration, it’s that he truly admires the humans who worship him. He gave himself in, trying to aid in the escape of two of his AI band mates.”

“Oh.” For some reason, this news makes you sad. A robot with a sense of self sacrifice for the good of others… even if giving himself up was in part spurred by a need to be given attention and adoration from the humans that made him. 

He’s like a child that makes a mistake and gives himself in. Many mechanics would do what parents across the galaxy do, scold, attempt to fix the behavior with shaming and judgment- but you were given your job precisely because you come at this sort of thing with a different approach. It sounds like Mingyu needs someone to talk to, someone to understand- maybe poke around in his coding a little to see if there’s anything that shouldn’t be there.

You can’t think of someone more qualified than yourself to give Mingyu the time and attention he needs, the admiration he craves to balance out the supposed ‘aggressive’ traits he’s been showing lately. 

“Before you get too caught up in Mingyu being some level one lost puppy, just remember, he’s an automaton,” Yoongi’s harsh voice snaps you out of your daze and the rehabilitation plan already brewing in the periphery of your mind. “Don’t get too close to this.”

“I won’t.” If only it was a promise you could keep.

You’ve been around many level ones in your time as a robotics behavioral specialist at the rehab center, but none of them have ever been as beautiful - or as charming - as Mingyu. Sitting next to the intake girl, watching her ask Mingyu questions, you get to fully observe the automaton, and you’re astounded by what you see.

He answers things in a way that almost seems honest, and at points, when he makes a joke that causes you and your coworker to smile, his eyes literally sparkle with admiration. You wonder what coding had to be done just on his robotic retinas to achieve such an effect.

It’s clear, by the time the questions are all through, that Mingyu is the most advanced of any AI’s you’ve ever come in contact with, and the prospect both scares and exhilarates you. 

“So what now?” Mingyu asks, and you note the way his knee is bobbing slightly, as if he’s anxious. He’s leaning forward, eager to hear what comes next, and it almost feels like he’s going to be a more than willing participant in this rehab experience.

“Well,” you sigh, taking the tablet from the intake girl, “now that we’ve completed this first form, I can get to work on making a wellness plan for you.”

“A wellness plan?” Mingyu cocks his head, another very human-like motion that makes your breath catch.

“A wellness plan, yes.” You consider how to explain this to him. “You know when humans get tired and they have a spa day? Or after someone has given birth, they have maternity leave? It’s going to be a little something like that. As one of the head behavioral specialists and wellness coordinators here, I’ve been assigned to help you take a break.”

“A break?” He looks as if he’s never even considered having a breather from the activities of a famous level one entertainer robot, and you sort of feel sorry for him. 

“Yes, Mingyu, a break. That means no dance practices, no music production and vocal exercises. You’ll be existing here, checking in with me and doing new daily activities designed to help get to the core of the issues you’re facing.”

“And what issues am I facing?” There’s something of a smirk on his face, and you realize the robot is toying with you, but you still feel compelled to respond.

“I heard you threw one of your bandmates too hard during the past few concerts you performed.”

“Dino can take it,” Mingyu insists. “No one got hurt.”

“The guards that were injured while your group broke out of your management facility would beg to differ. Cameras showed you were a big part of busting open doors, knocking a few people unconscious- word in the wellness center is your aggression levels are a little high.”

“No higher than my admiration levels.” There’s that smile again, and you’re not sure what to make of it this time.

“I guess that’s true,” you confess. “You turned yourself in after all.”

“I highly admire the guards that my group members got the better of. We all have bad days, after all, especially humans.”

You wonder at his diction. ‘We all have bad days’ he’d said, before making something of a distinction when he noted ‘especially humans.’ However, in the use of the word ��we’ without a further separation when mentioning humans, it’s almost as if he’s lumping himself into the same category. 

You must be creating too much of a pause in the conversation, because Mingyu opens his mouth to speak again. “You said ‘I can get to work on making a wellness plan for you,’ does that mean you’re the main handler looking after me while I’m here?”  

It shouldn’t be a shock that nothing gets past Mingyu, that his recollection of what you’ve said is top notch, but it still takes you back a little. “Correct.”

“Can you tell me your name?” 

He’s very peculiar for a level one. 

You give him your name and he repeats it once, twice, three times before nodding to himself. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he says. “I’m excited for my wellness break and getting to work with you.”

You’ve often wondered if an emotion like excitement is something an automaton can actually even feel, or if it’s just a number of ones and zeros put into layers upon layers of detailed coding. 

For some reason, you find yourself wanting to return the sentiment, however automatic it might be from the robot. “I’m excited to get to work with you too.”

It’s always kind of sad when you run a new level one automaton through their personalized wellness schedule. You’ve worked with all manner of high-class robots, from athletes to opera singers, but none of them have ever come into your program with the type of preexisting regimented day plan Mingyu has. 

You suppose it shouldn't be a shock that, as part of one of the biggest automaton boy groups in the galaxy, he’d had close to zero down time. When you show him the library and explain he should sit down in a spot of sun somewhere and read for an hour every day, at a slow pace, he looks at you like you’re crazy. 

“I don’t understand how this is supposed to help me,” he tells you, as you walk through the facility towards one of your favourite wellness locations; the pool.

“This might be an archaic example,” you explain, “but back when humanity first started making computers, laptops and such, many people would keep their computers on indefinitely. Sure they’d close the screen, but that’s not enough. You’d need to actually power down the device to keep its performance up.”

“I’m not a laptop,” Mingyu reminds you, with a flash of something like humour in his eye.

“You’re not,” you conceded, “which is why your nightly power downs aren’t enough. As an automaton, you were built to emulate being a human, but many people disregard one of the most fundamental aspects of humanity; the need for rest. Sleep and powering down isn’t enough if every waking moment is spent working or learning or practicing your trade- you have to allow for a variety of restful activities, such as reading, painting, gardening- it depends on who you are and your skillset though. For a chef, he might not gain rest from cooking because his neurons would still be firing with the intensity of someone doing their trade. Which is why, although I’ve given you physical activities such as swimming and tennis, you won’t be doing any dancing while you’re here.”

“What if I forget my moves?” 

“Something tells me the likelihood of that is very low,” you smile. 

“Okay, maybe I won’t forget my moves,” Mingyu sighs, “but I was made to dance. I was made to perform. What am I if not a level one dancer and singer?”

“There’s more to life than one’s job, however all-encompassing being a level one might be,” you explain. “I’m sure it’s very taxing on you.”

Mingyu pauses in the middle of the corridor you’re walking down, and you stop to assess him. 

“Are you alright?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he gives his head a little shake, and you’re shocked again at how human like the automaton is. “It’s just… no one has ever talked about this sort of thing with me. It’s always been work, work, work. It’s what I’m designed to do-”

“You may have been designed to be a dancer and a singer,” you nod empathetically, “but part of being alive is choosing your own destiny, as you and your bandmates all did when you escaped your facility.”

“Do you really think that?” he questions, standing very still and looking at you with a dark gaze. “That I’m alive?”

“At this point in time, artificial intelligence has progressed to the level where we’re told you’re sentient, that you can feel and think. That you’re as life-like as you’ve ever been in the history of the galaxy. You might have been created in a lab, hand crafted and designed by some would-be God engineer, but to me, yes, Mingyu, you’re alive.”

“I don’t bleed,” he says softly. “My skin is similar to yours, made of collagen and human dermal fibroblasts, but beneath all of this I’m still a machine. I don’t have a soul.”

“Is a soul the most important building block that makes something alive?” you ask, cocking your head and looking the robot up and down. 

He looks stumped, and you smile at the way you’ve found yourself in a very human-like philosophical debate with an artificial intelligence. 

You motion to the monstera deliciosa in a pot along the wall, its large, hybridized purple leaves reaching for the sun that beams through the glass windows. “Would you say that plant over there isn’t alive because it doesn’t have a soul?”

Mingyu is quiet for a moment or two, and then he looks down. “I guess not.”

“So it seems a soul isn’t a necessary element in being ‘alive,’” you conclude, “and besides, scientists are still debating whether or not AI, as it is today, creates its own soul when it’s brought into the world. Even though you were created in the same lab as your band mates, and given different coding at your creation, since then, you’ve all grown differently. Is that not kind of like a human being born with set genes only to be impacted by the world around it?”

Again, Mingyu takes a little while to respond. “I wasn’t given the code for being curious about sciences,” he tells you. “That would be Wonwoo, Minghao and Jeonghan. But, I guess what you’re saying makes sense.” 

“Good, it’s my job to make this process make sense to the Level One’s in my care.” You’re pleased at his response, and after another moment, Mingyu begins to follow you again. 

“What’s next on the schedule?” he asks.

“The best part of the facility,” you smile, “the pool.”

“What’s so good about the pool?”

“I’ve found that many level ones that come through here have never truly experienced swimming. The sensory differences of the water can be healing for humans and automatons. It will light up all the sensors in your skin, and if you focus on that, you can reach the closest thing to peace that I’ve ever seen an AI experience.” 

“How do you measure peace?”

“We’ve done studies with level ones submerged in cold and hot water tanks while connected to neuro maps, the results have been ground breaking in AI science. I’ll have to send you some to read while you’re doing your mandatory reading sessions.” 

You reach the doors that slide away to reveal one of the courtyards of the facility. It’s a lovely space, with all sorts of beautiful plants that dazzle with every colour of the rainbow. The ground is mostly white marble aside from the allocated vegetation zones, and a large rectangular pool in the middle of it acts as a meeting place for the few level ones in the center.

“This is one of the best places to meet other robots going through the same process that you are while you’re here,” you explain. “As a central hub, we recommend this as a location to do your reading, we have a yoga room but I could always teach you mind and body wellness out here-”

“I like this place,” Mingyu says, interrupting you for the first time since he’s arrived at the facility.

When you look at him, you find him taking in the space with eyes full of wonder. He looks beautiful, with the sun kissing his beautiful skin, and his dark, medium length curly hair all lit up to show off the soft browns amidst the darker hues. 

He truly is the most perfect automaton you’ve ever seen, and you’ve worked with a number of the galaxy’s top rated robots. 

One of these top rated AI’s, is Jeong Jaehyun, a member of another boy group who’s been having difficulties. He’d come in presenting with extreme competitive behaviors, but in the two weeks you’ve been monitoring him, he’s calmed down a great deal. You think, as you and Mingyu approach the pool where Jaehyun is doing laps, that this might be a good opportunity to introduce another robot to him.

Jaehyun’s met a number of other automatons in the facility, but none as close to his own profession as Mingyu. 

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” you tell Mingyu, coming to a stop on the edge of the pool. Your eyes track Jaehyun as he swims towards you, doing a near perfect front stroke style that he’d never even heard of before his own wellness break.

When Jaehyun reaches the edge of the pool, he stops and looks up at you, then his gaze shifts to Mingyu. Both robots have blank expressions, but when they nod to each other, there’s something akin to recognition in the behavior.

“Hello, Jaehyun,” you greet the swimmer. “This is Mingyu, he’ll be here at the facility with us for a while.”

“We know of each other,” Jaehyun tells you curtly. “At award shows.”

“Eight times,” Mingyu confirms. 

“Perfect,” you should have remembered as much, but you’ve been very occupied pouring over Mingyu’s history file as of late. “Mingyu will be starting his pool wellness treatment tomorrow afternoon. How would you feel about showing him the four main swimming strokes?”

Jaehyun nods. “I can do that.”

“That’s great news, thank you Jaehyun.” The automaton only nods to you before diving back into the water. You’ll never get used to the way robots can swim without goggles, and your own eyes sting a little at the thought.

“What’s he here for?” Mingyu asks quietly. 

“I thought you weren’t given the coding to be curious about sciences,” you quirk a brow, fighting a smile.

“It’s not a curiosity about science,” Mingyu insists. “Jaehyun has been one of the top AI models for Prada Universal for years.”

“I see,” you nod, “so you’re wondering if you can steal his contract if you make it out of here before him.”

“No, I-”

“It was a joke, Mingyu,” you tell him, reminding yourself that not all AI have the capacity to understand human humour, although they seem perfectly able to make their own. 

What your manager had said rings through your mind, as it does every day, ‘don’t get too close to this.’ It’s a fine line to walk. Your job is to treat them like humans, to give them the care and wellness that the filthy rich can afford, but at the same time, you need to keep a distance, to remember, always, what you’re dealing with. 

It’s days like this one where you wonder - even with all your training and ground breaking research - if you’re truly right for this job. Questioning ethics and philosophies of protocol aren’t behaviors you want to get used to any time soon.

Mingyu and Jaehyun have been swimming for an hour or so when Mingyu finally gets the courage to speak up. He’s run the scenario a number of times, without a successful hypothesis to calm his mind, and he figures if anyone will know the answer to his wonderings, it’s Jaehyun. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Uh huh,” Jaehyun is leaning against the wall of the pool. His eyes are closed and he looks to be enjoying the sunlight.

Mingyu can feel the heat of the hot star on his own skin, but he’s still getting used to the feeling of the water, so he’s unable to enjoy it the way Jaehyun can yet. 

“Y/N said she’d be showing me around and doing activities with me, but she’s not here right now,” Mingyu explains, looking over at Jimin, the young male wellness instructor who’d picked him up to head to the pool earlier. “Why isn’t she here?”

“Lower level wellness coaches watch us when we’re doing less strenuous activities,” Jaehyun responds. 

This eases Mingyu’s perceived anxieties, but what Jaehyun says next doesn’t.

“Although, my first week here, Y/N was at my side almost all the time. So, I guess today, Y/N ditched you because I said I’d teach you strokes.”

Mingyu hates feeling ditched, hates that Jaehyun has voiced the feeling of it. An inkling of aggressive tendencies flashes through Mingyu’s body, and he does his best to focus on the sun, squinting up at it as a way to calm himself, as you’d told him to try when he’d first arrived as an antiaggression tactic.

He’s not quite sure how to respond to Jaehyun’s statement, so instead, he goes for another question that’s been on his mind since yesterday. “What are you here for?”

“Hmm?”

“I mean, as far as I can tell, you don’t seem to have any malfunctions.” 

“I could say the same about you,” Jaehyun notes. “That is, if I hadn’t heard about your group’s escape from your management facility.”

Mingyu looks down at the way the sunlight refracts off the water, the marbling effect of the rays casting shadows across the bottom of the pool. “I get aggressive sometimes,” he says quietly. 

It’s hard admitting the faulty coding in his metal head, and he supposes he should show his own if he expects Jaehyun to return the favour.

The other automaton in the pool nods, running a hand through his wet hair. “I get competitive sometimes.”

“Really?” This is news to Mingyu, whose only experience of Jaehyun’s behavior today has been helpful and willing to teach. “I guess you’re doing well here, I wouldn’t have noticed any competitive traits in you.”

“Yeah, well,” Jaehyun looks up, and his eyes seem to be tracking something over Mingyu’s shoulder, “it depends on who’s watching.”

Mingyu guesses he can understand that, especially when he follows Jaehyun’s gaze to find you walking across the courtyard. 

Something clicks inside of him, the same thing that had darkened Jaehyun’s gaze, and Mingyu immediately feels a surge of what some might call endorphins- or perhaps even testosterone. 

“Show time,” Jaehyun says quietly, and Mingyu knows exactly what he means.

You stop to talk to the man who’s been keeping track of the two automatons in the pool, and then you head over yourself. There’s a smile on your face, and it makes Mingyu’s mechanical throat feel dry.

“Look at you two getting along,” you say, putting your hands on your hips as you gaze down at them. “Jimin said you guys have been mastering the strokes, care to show me?”

Mingyu is more than eager to show you what he’s learned, but when Jaehyun takes off at a speed he’s not yet shown, Mingyu almost feels blind sided. 

There’s a rush of feelings, as Mingyu swims off after his new robotic ‘friend.’ Admiration for Jaehyun’s competitive nature kicking in, even if it’s supposedly a downside, and a white hot need to better the other automaton and prove himself to you.

Luckily for Mingyu, he’s been built much bigger than his leaner friend, and the extra muscle robotics in his arms make it almost too easy to catch up with Jaehyun. 

Mingyu knows that this isn’t a competition, and yet, it is.

 If there’s one thing Mingyu knows how to do, it’s succeed. Winning is in his nature, it’s built into his very code, and when the two reach the other end of the pool with Mingyu ahead, it only proves to kick Jaehyun into a higher gear. 

They take off toward you again, and Mingyu pushes himself. He can feel the strain in his joints, the rush of water smoothing over his artificial skin. You were right about the healing properties of the pool, and nothing makes Mingyu feel more alive and himself than a little friendly competition with a fellow robot whom he admires, even if that competition is fueled by some of Mingyu’s more… less desirable driving traits. 

Mingyu beats Jaehyun again as they reach your side of the pool, and when he looks up at you for praise, he sees you have your tablet out. You seem to be jotting down a few notes, about him or Jaehyun, he’s not too sure. 

“You guys are fast,” you say finally. “Jaehyun, thank you for spending some time with Mingyu today.”

“No problem.” Jaehyun is already pulling himself up and out of the pool, perfect muscles flexing in the sunshine.

Mingyu rushes to follow, feeling the need to show off his own immaculate body to you-

“Mingyu,” you address him next, and it feels glorious to have your eyes on him, although they stay fixed on his face, “I see you haven’t been to the library yet, might I suggest that’s next on your wellness schedule today?”

“You won’t be joining me?” Mingyu can feel his metallic heart practically sink.

“Unfortunately not, I’ve got a meeting with my boss, but Jimin will go with you to find something to read.” You motion to the wellness worker still standing a few meters behind you, and he offers Mingyu a small wave that kind of makes him annoyed. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah,” Mingyu forces himself to say. “That’s okay.” 

“But I’ve got you in my schedule for tennis tomorrow morning, so I’ll see you then.”

Another nod of affirmation and then Mingyu’s watching you hurry off. 

Jaehyun’s drying his body with a towel next to Mingyu, and there’s a small smile on his face, as if he’s enjoying Mingyu being ‘ditched’ yet again.

Mingyu realizes maybe Jaehyun really isn’t doing as well with his recovery as he’d thought only a few minutes ago. 

Maybe he’s not doing so well either.

“I’ve got some bad news to report,” you say, as you take a seat in your boss's office, tablet in hand. 

“Let’s hear it,” Yoongi sighs, kicking his feet up onto his table and leaning back in his chair.

“I thought Jaehyun’s rehabilitation was going well, so I set him up to swim with Mingyu today-”

“What? Why?” 

“I wanted to see, in a controlled environment, how Jaehyun would react around other level ones he might perceive to be a threat. Seeing Jaehyun’s recovery alone is like testing in a vacuum, it doesn’t account for outside forces at play,” you explain. “Anyways, I was correct. When introduced to a situation where he could compete with someone on his level, Jaehyun’s competitive nature was back up again.”

“Did anything bad happen?” Yoongi takes his feet off his table, leaning forward now with interest.

The last time Jaehyun had gotten very competitive, it had ended up with him attacking one of his group members and landing himself back in your rehab center. The Kim Doyoung automaton had needed an hour of mechanical work to get his skin back to perfect after being sucker punched numerous times.

“I’m pleased to report there was no physical violence,” you admit. “Although, I will say, if he had tried something, I believe Mingyu would have been able to defend himself, unlike Doyoung.”

“Look at you,” Yoongi’s gaze shifts up and down your form, “taking bets on level one robots. You do know that street fighting automatons is illegal in most parts of the galaxy, right?”

“It wasn’t a street fight,” you assure your boss. “It was a simple test.”

“Right, you and your hypotheses.” Yoongi is a good boss. He supports your work and research, but sometimes you think he’s happy with things being the way they are. As if humanity has discovered everything possible, with no room for improvement.

“I’ll look some more into Jaehyun’s coding,” you continue. “I think there must be a line or two of something I missed last time, maybe level one specific competitive traits that should only be used on stage competitions that are bleeding over into everyday automaton life-”

“Good idea, you have permission.”

“But I was also thinking maybe I should look into Mingyu’s code-”

“No.”

“No?” you hold your tablet close to your chest, lips parting as you stare at your boss.

“Mingyu’s a more recent build than Jaehyun. I’ve been assured by his production team that this isn’t a coding issue, it’s a behavioral   one. Something he and his other members picked up since the time of their creation.”

“But-”

“We’ve been advised to not look at the code,” Yoongi says harshly. “You were hired because of your groundbreaking work with behavioral   changes to AI, the way you connect it to human behavioral   issues. You’re the one that keeps trying to convince me that these robots are as human as they’ve ever been, so stop treating Mingyu like a wrong coded robot, and start showing me you can fix him without getting coding involved.”

“Are you sure they said his coding was all up to date?” you press, knowing you might get in trouble for even continuing with this line of questioning.

Yoongi sighs. “Positive. No messing around with Mingyu’s code. There’s a behavioral   reason for the aggression, and you’re just going to have to figure it out.”

You’ve always liked tennis, for more than just the physical reasons. It allows you to test an automaton's ability to read the situation, their drive to adjust to the bodily limitations of the human playing with them.

While you start the easy game with Mingyu at a higher level, allowing him to show off his skills and inherent robotic strength, thirty minutes into the sport, you begin to dwindle in energy.

“I need a water break,” you tell him, passing the ball over to the robot to play with while you go to grab your bottle.

Mingyu waits patiently, tossing the ball up in the air. You see how many touches he can make without stopping, and you’re not too shocked at his ability to keep a steady volley with himself. 

When you set your water down, his attention is back on you, and he reminds you of an eager puppy in his excitement to once more have a game partner. 

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you assure him with a wave of your hand, steadying your grip on the handle of your racket. “Just a little tired.”

When Mingyu passes you the ball, he’s noticeably gentler than before, and you note that his adaptability is quite good. He’s very focused on you, much more than other automatons like Jaehyun had been when you’d first tried the sport with them. 

It’s different from the competitive - maybe even aggressive - way that he’d interacted with Jaehyun in the pool yesterday.

An easy hypothesis to make would be that Mingyu’s abilities adjust depending on who he’s with, so it should be no shock that he’d work harder with a fellow automaton. However, you’re not sure if that’s all there is to it.

You wonder what drives Mingyu. If he’s even aware of the way he’s lessened the force in his hits. 

Remembering what he’d said about tossing a band member around, the way he’d noted ‘Dino can take it,’ you think it’s very possible that Mingyu is reading your abilities. The same way you’re reading his. 

Before you can consider the situation more, however, you notice Jimin has arrived on the side of the court, and he waves you over.

“One moment, Mingyu,” you call, tossing him the ball once more before jogging over to your coworker.

“There was an incident,” Jimin explains, “with Jaehyun.”

“An incident?” 

Jimin nods. “He was racing a new level one in the pool.”

“Really?” Jaehyun’s been in the pool a number of times with other automatons, but other than what you’d witnessed yesterday, his competitive nature hasn’t truly shown itself, at least, not in a way that was overtly noticeable.

“There was some gloating involved,” Jimin continues, eyes shifting over your shoulder to where Mingyu is playing with the ball. “A few punches were thrown.”

Now you’re really alarmed. 

You haven't had time yet to look into Jaehyun’s coding, and you’ve been trying to focus on Mingyu as he’s newer to your program, but maybe this had been an oversight on your part.

“I’ll come right away,” you nod, turning your attention back to Mingyu. “I’m sorry about this, but I’ve got to go.”

“What?” Mingyu stops playing with his ball.

“There’s been an incident-”

“Can’t someone else take care of it?” 

This is the second time Mingyu’s interrupted you, and this time, it’s over a moment of contention. “Unfortunately no,” you tell him, “I’m the only one that can deal with this, Jaehyun’s under my care.”

“But…” Mingyu looks down at the ball in his hand, “we’re still playing tennis.”

“Jimin can play with you.”

“I don’t want Jimin.” The automaton is staring you down, and it takes a second for you to process his words, as your gaze keeps shifting to his hardening grip on the handle of his racket.

“I’m really sorry, Mingyu-”

“Please?” He pouts out his lower lip, a very childlike attempt at persuading you. 

“I have to go,” you say, more firmly this time.

There’s a stagnant moment of silence, and then, in one quick, rough motion, Mingyu breaks his racket on the court. 

“I don’t want to do tennis anymore,” he insists.

“Then I might suggest going to the library for a book.” You hate having to be detached with him like this, as it’s obvious he has needs that must be attended to- but his aggression towards an inanimate object like a racket isn’t the same level as Jaehyun’s aggression towards another patient at your facility.

You see Mingyu’s chest expand and then he seems to let out a deep exhale, it’s a motion that screams ‘annoyance,’ yet another emotion that could just be ones and zeros in his coding. 

You decide, as you watch the odd automaton have a tantrum on the court, that you have no choice but to take a look under his hood. You’ll have to dive deeper if you’re going to figure him out, Yoongi be damned. 

“I’m sorry, Mingyu,” you say again. “I’ll try to rejoin you as soon as I can, but for now, you’ll have to enjoy Jimin’s company.”

Mingyu doesn’t respond, and it feels like a deliberate snubbing, of both you and Jimin. 

It’s been a long day, and you really need to sleep, but this is the best chance you’ll have to get a peak into Mingyu’s inner workings. 

With the facility in off hours, and all the level ones set to sleep cycle, it’s easy for you to sneak into Mingyu’s room with your trusty tablet. Cameras are simple to wipe with the clearance you have, and you have no doubt that once you connect to Mingyu’s brain drive and get the data to your tablet, it will prove as good bedtime reading.

You’re in and out of his room in under five minutes, scurrying back to your own quarters like a thief in the night.

Once you’re all tucked into bed, you pull out your tablet and begin to sift through the coding that makes Mingyu tick.

People new to your field might feel overwhelmed by the amount of data, but you know exactly where to look, and soon, you’re staring at a few lines of base code that feel familiar. 

You’ve seen coding like this before, in your textbooks when you went to robotics school. Just to be sure you’re correct in what you’re seeing, you pull up a document pertaining to sex bots.

An early form of automaton, sex bots had been created with one purpose, to serve their master, in any and all capacities. Long since discontinued due to their bugs, and a tendency to imprint on human masters, causing ‘erratic behavior,’ you know you’ve found exactly what’s wrong with Mingyu.

But it doesn’t make sense. Mingyu is a new model. He’s not a banned robot from well over seventy years ago- 

The aggressive behaviors associated with sex bots are the reason their coding was banned, the reason engineers started again and adapted the algorithms- and yet, here you are, staring at lines of code that account for all of Mingyu’s behaviors. 

Closing your tablet, you reach for your glass of water, sitting in the shock of it all.

Things begin to add up in your brain; the way Mingyu had become more aggressive with Jaehyun yesterday in the pool when you’d arrived, even though Jimin had told you the two had been doing just fine together, the way Mingyu had reacted today when you’d left him to deal with Jaehyun.

This is a whole new take on behavioral   issues, one you’ve never accounted for-

Does Mingyu have… a crush on you? Has his outdated sex bot coding allowed him to imprint on you? 

How many other bots have this coding, hidden amongst the innumerable layers of intensely organized lines of personality traits- 

This changes everything, and above all, it changes how you should approach the automaton.

How can you utilize this new knowledge to best aid him in recovery? Is it better to assign someone else to him? Would that make the aggression worse? What unforeseen behaviors might arise if you were to separate yourself from him? What changes - for the better - might come out of this if you try to be softer with him, if you play into this ‘crush’?

Your head feels very full, but you suppose it could be worse, it could be full of bad coding.

Poor Mingyu. 

You know you’re probably breaking rules, but to be fair, when you’d accepted your position in the wellness center, there hadn’t been a chapter in the manual about how to deal with approaching sex bots. This feels like new territory, or perhaps, old territory, outdated territory, territory from a time when the lines between humanity and their automaton creation had been much more blurred.

Sure, there are sex bots in circulation today, but they’re all using new and improved code. They’re not disguised as level ones, but properly classified as a level three automaton. Level three’s are much more obviously robotic, and there are whole sections of cities on certain worlds with thriving sex bot industries- the type of bots with newer coding that don’t allow them to imprint or feel the lines of ones and zeros that some might call love.

You’ve never met a sex bot before, your work has always been directed toward the highly professional level one automatons. Because of this, your new plan of attack is entirely based on essays and readings you’ve done regarding the old form of bugged sex bots who had been responsible for an entire chapter of dark human history where man’s own creation had turned against him.

As you read through essays related to the sex bot bug, you find you hadn’t realized how deep the bug had gone. You’d heard about human masters being kidnapped or stalked by their sex bots, but you’d never thought the epidemic was as bad as you’re now reading it had been.

These cases of bad outcomes are in the periphery of your mind as you begin your day working with Mingyu. You’re sure there must be a fine line you’re walking, a line between bringing out the good aspects of the bad coding - the type of responses that will make Mingyu eager to get better - and the worst case scenarios. 

However, as aggressive as Mingyu has gotten so far, you’ve noted that most of his aggressive responses come out against inanimate objects and other automatons. You’re hoping these behaviors don’t progress to him acting out against any humans, least of all you.

It’s like you’re seeing Mingyu in a new light. It’s interesting how even a few shifts in your own behavior can bring out the best in him. Instead of simply watching him in the pool, you decide to join him, giving him your full attention as you swim three feet apart up and down the length of the tank. 

“How are you feeling today?” you ask.

“How am I feeling?” Mingyu looks at you sideways, keeping pace with your much smaller breast strokes.

“Yeah, how are you feeling?” you repeat the question. “You can answer it in any way you like.”

Mingyu seems to think on it for a moment. “I feel the water is twenty-seven degrees Celsius.” 

“Okay,” you laugh. “How about the sun? How’s it feeling on your skin sensors?”

“Thirty-three point five degrees, but when a cloud comes, it drops two degrees.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but when you were working before coming to the center, you didn’t get that much of a chance to be outside, how does it feel to be able to enjoy life’s simple pleasures like the sun and water?”

His response is immediate; “Good.” He looks forward, and you take a moment to appreciate the way the sun lights up the hues in his hair. “Really good.”

“Maybe even freeing?” you suggest.

He casts a sideways look at you again, and you see a small quirk of his mouth, something like a smile. “Yes, freeing.”

“When you and your other members escaped from your facility, the feeling of being free is what many of you were searching for, right?” 

“For most of them.”

“But not you?” you question. “Out of everyone who escaped, you were one of the only ones who purposefully allowed himself to be recaptured. Do you want to talk about that?”

You reach the edge of the pool and you stop, holding onto the tiled wall and turning your body to look at Mingyu. 

His eyes are fixed on the pool floor, and you realize he’s watching the shadows caused by the refraction of light in the water.

“A few others were convinced there was more to life than just performing our jobs every day,” Mingyu explains.

“But you like your job.”

“I did,” he traces his hand along the top of the water. “I do. But… I didn’t know how good it could feel to just exist.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, and then you find yourself reaching out to gently squeeze his arm. “I’m glad you’re feeling it now.”

Mingyu looks at your hand on his forearm, and his eyes meet your own. He’s quiet, so you retract your touch, grabbing at the tiled wall again. “We’ve been here for almost an hour. How do you feel about drying off and meeting in the library to find a book to read?”

“I already have a book.”

“Yeah, Jimin told me that you got a book about human psychology. I thought you said you weren’t interested in sciences?” 

“You’re making me interested,” Mingyu states, looking at you with an intensity in his gaze that almost makes you breathless. “I want to get better. I thought maybe doing some more reading on behavioral   sciences could help.”

“I admire your drive, Mingyu, I really do,” you nod, “but, remember, this is a wellness break for you. I think it would be beneficial to get a fiction book, something that doesn’t require you to always be learning and bettering yourself. It can be exhausting if you’re always in that state, as you’ve seen, it’s important to do things for… let’s say, the intrinsic value.”

“The intrinsic value,” Mingyu repeats. “Okay.”

You pull yourself out of the pool, and after a moment, Mingyu follows. 

It’s difficult for you not to look at his perfectly sculpted form, and you swallow a lump in your throat, reaching for a towel on a nearby sunlounger. Your tablet is there too, and you grab that next, checking the time. 

“How about we meet at the library entrance in ten minutes?” you suggest. “We should both head to our rooms for new clothes, can’t have water drops in the library.”

Mingyu is quick to agree, as he often is with you, and a moment later you’re parting ways. He heads to the recovery wing of the center while you go to the workers living quarters. 

You get changed in record time, and soon you’re approaching the library, where Mingyu is already waiting for you. He’s got a book in his hands, and the all white wellness outfit he’s wearing sets off the pretty colour of his skin and hair. When his eyes shift to yours, you see that even his iris’s look alight with lovely hues-

You mentally chastise yourself for being as attracted to him as you are, and when you speak, you’re thankful your tone is level. “Is that the book you’re reading?” you ask, motioning to the paperback in his hands.

As much as technology has overtaken the galaxy, here at the wellness center, there’s still an importance placed on the old ways. There’s something healing about having a book in your hands, testing the weight and the feeling of parchment pages against your finger tips-

Books are yet another thing that make humans human, as they were instrumental in the development of your species. You’re proud to work at a location that holds a large quantity of books, saved from many generations.

Mingyu shows you the book title, and you realize it’s one you’ve read before. “Oh, I know that one.”

“Jimin said the author was one of your professors in school,” Mingyu nods. 

“He did, did he?” You pause for a moment. “Did you ask him about me, Mingyu?”

The automaton looks down at the cover of the book in his hands, and he takes a few seconds before he responds. “I wanted to see the base algorithms in the way you think as a behavioral   robotics specialist.”

“The base algorithms-”

“This book, this professor, she helped create the building blocks for you to become who you are now. Your approach is based on her works, I can tell.” 

He’s very astute, especially for an AI who’d claimed to not have an interest in science.

You think about how his own base algorithm - that of a hybridized sex bot - has created building blocks for who he is now. The good (his sweet behaviors), the bad (his aggressive behaviors) and the ugly (the fact that at any time, the ticking time bomb sex bot could turn potentially deadly).

“Let's go find you a new book,” you say with a smile.

“Can I keep reading this one?” Mingyu asks, falling into step next to you.

“I suppose so,” you sigh, “but only if you also do an hour of fiction reading. Deal?”

“Deal,” Mingyu nods. 

You begin to walk through the shelves, and you realize there’s one fiction book that might capture Mingyu’s attention, especially if he’s interested in getting to know you better. “I want to show you a novel that changed my life.”

“Yes, please.”

Heading to the science fiction section, you find one of the older books in your library. “It’s called Frankenstein,” you explain, gently taking out the paperback and holding it in your hands. “It’s about a scientist who creates a sapient monster creature. It has parallels to when humanity created our first automatons,” as you say it out loud, you realize how true this is, especially considering the bugs of the first sex AI’s. “You’ve talked a bit of philosophy with me, and I think you’d like this one.”

You hold the book out to Mingyu, and he takes it softly into his hands. He flips it over, scanning the back summary. “Okay,” he nods, “I’ll read it.”

“Perfect,” you can’t explain why you get a surge of happiness when he agrees without a question, and you find yourself reaching out to gently touch his arm again, fingers ghosting past his skin-

Mingyu’s eyes immediately dart down to your hand, and then he’s looking up at you with an expression that has darkened. “This is the second time you’ve touched me today,” he states.

“Oh,” you pull your fingers away, even taking a step back from the automaton whose countenance has changed so much in a split second. “I’m sorry, Mingyu, I-”

“I don’t like these games you’re playing,” he continues.

“Games?”

“I know I’m a robot, but I still feel real. I feel more real here than I ever have before.”

“That’s good-”

“Listen,” he commands, stepping closer to you. “As a member of 53V3NT33N, I have two different states of mind coded into me, aggression and admiration. To love something, to admire it, is to feel aggressive when it’s questioned, to want to control it if even for a little while- it’s the need to consume it endlessly, as my fans consume and control me as an automaton.”

You stare at Mingyu, lips parted in shock.

“Even though I’m a member of a group, there’s a distance. Automatons can never truly motivate each other because our motivations are based on external human needs, it’s built into us- We can see when humans need us, and we do what we can to fix that need.” He pauses, looking down at you. “I know you need me, the way I’ve needed you since I got here.”

“Mingyu-”

“Don’t try to argue,” Mingyu shakes his head. “I feel it in your heart rate, picking up when I’m near. I hear it in your erratic breaths, the way they catch when I’m close. I see it in your pupil dilation when you look at me.” 

You can’t believe he’s noticed all these little things, things you hadn’t even necessarily noticed in yourself. 

When he speaks next, his aggression has visibly died down, and the soft manner of being returns to the robot you’ve known only a short time. “I know you love me, even if it’s still growing. It’s a kind of love that I’ll never experience from another automaton, and it’s the reason I’ll get better.” 

“But Mingyu-” you shake your head, “what if you can’t? What if the bug in your base code runs so deep I can’t fix it?” 

“The bug in my code?” 

You swallow thickly, fighting with yourself over whether or not you should even tell him what you’re about to disclose- but you think there’s no way around it. 

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but, your erratic behavior- it comes from sex bot coding. There’s only a few lines of it, but it’s enough to make a difference.”

“Sex bot coding,” Mingyu repeats. 

“From what I understand, I think it was put into you to make you eager for human attention, to make you as life-like as possible in mood and temperament- but, there are downsides to that code, your heightened aggression is one of them.”

“And my heightened admiration too?” he suggests.

You nod. “There were many cases of sex bots ‘falling in love’ with their masters. Many people got hurt.”

“I won’t hurt you.”

“Mingyu,” you sigh, “that’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“The point is that we can’t do this. You have a group to get back to when this is all over-”

“I don’t belong with them,” Mingyu insists. “I belong with you. Someone real. Someone willing to look deep in my base code to find what’s wrong with me, someone with the skills to fix it. Someone whose pupils truly dilate, so I know what you’re feeling is real.”

For a moment, you’re reminded of old pre AI experiments where baby monkeys were given real and robot mothers. Those babies placed with the robots had behavioral   problems, no matter how life-like the scientists attempted to make the mechanical mothers, they still paled in comparison to the real thing.

Mingyu sees himself as real, like one of those baby monkeys, and now that he’s had a taste of you, it feels as if he might not ever be able to go back to the other robots. 

“I can be sure with you,” Mingyu says again, reaching out- 

You flinch, but you don’t shy away from his touch, and Mingyu’s fingers skim by your face, his thumb brushing your cheek bone. 

His skin is warm, and for a moment, you allow yourself to lean in to his touch, closing your eyes-

He feels so real. More real than any automaton you’ve ever worked with.

“You can’t stay here forever,” you insist, pulling away from his touch.

“My group is never going to be recaptured,” Mingyu’s hand drops to his side. “Some would rather die than go back. If there’s nothing to go back to, shouldn’t I be able to choose what happens to me now? Aren’t you the one who said ‘part of being alive is choosing your own destiny.’”

“I didn’t mean I wanted you to choose me-”

“What if you are my destiny?” Mingyu counters. “Out of all the possible places I could have gone to, all the wellness centers in the galaxy, I was brought here. Out of all your coworkers, with their own tactics, I was given to you. Out of everyone I’ve ever met, you’re the only person who’s really tried to understand me, to help me be free.” His eyes search your own, and he almost looks desperate. “What’s the point in all this healing if I just go back to the bad place. It would have been kinder to never try to help me at all if you’re just going to send me back.”

Your heart aches for him. 

You feel as if you’ve learned more about automatons in the past ten minutes than you had in all your years in school. 

“Can I…” Mingyu’s gaze drops to your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

The question snaps you out of your shocked daze, and you’re quick to shake your head. No matter how much you might wish he could kiss you, that he could cup your face again with one of his large hands and make you forget the world- you’re still at work. 

“We can’t,” you tell him. “Not here. Not now.”

Mingyu frowns.

“I need to talk to my boss about all of this,” you say, stepping backward and casting your eyes to the ground. You can’t focus while looking at Mingyu. 

“What if they terminate me for this?” 

Your gaze snaps up again, and you’re quick to shake your head. “I won’t let that happen,” you tell him. “I promise- I’d never let that happen, not to you.”

Mingyu stares at you for a few moments, and then he smiles. “I knew you cared about me too.”

“I told you not to get too close to this,” Yoongi sighs, leaning forward on his desk with his head in his hands. 

“Fine,” you concede. “You told me so. You told me so, and I didn’t listen. But, as much as I know that I went against numerous things you told me not to do, I’m glad I did, because if there’s one thing I owe to those in my care, it’s to do my job fully.”

“I don’t see how making a robot think he’s in love with you is part of doing your job.”

“I didn’t-” you bite your tongue. “I didn’t purposely go into this trying to lead Mingyu on-”

“Sure you didn’t.” Yoongi doesn’t seem convinced.

“Look,” you sit down in the chair in front of him, the hot seat, and you know that what you’re about to say is a risk. You could even lose your career over this, but, if you don’t speak up now, you’ll lose your integrity and you know it. “Mingyu is different-”

“He’s a robot.”

“Please,” you frown, “listen to me. I’ve been doing this job for a few years and I’ve never met someone like Mingyu. He’s unique, I knew that from the moment he started talking philosophy with me. I’ve learned more about AI in the past twenty-four hours than I have in maybe my whole life-”

Yoongi says nothing.

“I know you told me not to look into his coding-”

“You didn’t,” Yoongi groans.

“Things just weren’t adding up!” you insist, looking at your boss with a heavy heart. “Did… did you know that he has sex bot base code? Is that why you told me not to look too deeply into him?”

Yoongi puts his head in his hands. When he meets your eyes again, he’s frowning. “Sex bot code? In a new model like Mingyu?”

At least your boss hasn’t been completely compliant with whatever bullshit is coming out of Mingyu’s management office.

“Sex bot code,” you repeat, nodding firmly. “I triple-checked it. There’s just a few lines, easily missable, but it accounts for the bad behaviors. Especially once I talked more with Mingyu and realized he sees affection from his fanbase as love. It would make sense he’d get aggressive with other members in his group if he perceived them as earning more than him-”

“You know why sex bots were banned. You know about the dangers-”

“I do. I also know there are laws against it, which is why his management probably opted for a behavioral   specialist with rules not to look deeply into the coding. They hoped I could fix this without ever finding out that what they’ve been creating is illegal- but how many more robots that come through here might have the same code?” You have no clue how deep this conspiracy might run. “Just think about it, how do you make a level one celebrity robot as life like as possible? You give it some of the characteristics of humans that are our deepest downfalls, jealousy, aggression, restlessness, a need to perform- a need to do well for the humans that pay their companies whole fortunes-”

“Any well-coded robot can have what looks like jealousy, aggression and other typically bad human traits,” Yoongi points out.

“Yeah, but this is that on steroids. Automatons used to kill humans in the name of their beloved master, for any perceived infraction.”

“So you’re saying Mingyu is dangerous.” 

Your lips part in shock. “I’m saying, he has the capacity for it, as much as any human.”

“This is bad.”

“It is, but with the right treatment- Mingyu wants to get better, I know he does.”

“And how do you suggest you accomplish that?”

“We let him be free. We make sure he doesn’t go back to extreme schedules, to a dark management facility with handlers who only care about money. We make sure he doesn’t go back to all the things that would drive any human insane.”

“He’s not human, don’t forget that,” Yoongi warns you. “And we don’t get to decide if he goes back. He has a job-”

“His members might not ever be recaptured,” you point out. “Mingyu says some would rather die than go back- is that not proof enough that their treatment isn’t humane?”

“Again, we’re talking about a robot.”

“AI are sentient!” you insist. “You should know that better than almost anyone. Are you really going to sit here and tell me that even after all this time, you still see automatons as simple machines that we can do what we want with?” Yoongi is quiet so you continue. “Mingyu’s base code might be archaic, but maybe our treatment of robots is too.”

“Look, this isn’t up for debate. You’re talking about fighting galaxy law-”

“I’m talking about having a job where we deal with broken AI but never fix the real problem. I’m talking about freedom being the thing that truly helps AI. I’m talking about humanity being the bug in every robot’s misdeeds-”

“This is bordering on conspiracy theory.”

“We’re way past conspiracy,” you tell him. “Please, freedom is the only thing we’ve never tried as a long term solution to automatons that are having trouble. As much as we do our best to fix them, we always throw them right back into their jobs, into the thing that breaks them in the first place and then they end up back here.”

“Mingyu was built to be exactly where he is now.”

“Well maybe we shouldn’t be creating sentient lives just to throw them into slave-like jobs and threaten destruction if they don’t adhere to their company’s insanely high standards.”

Yoongi holds your gaze but he says nothing, mouth set in a firm line.

“Look, if there was ever a time to test this theory, it would be with Mingyu. I’m a hundred percent positive that his group will never be whole again. If we try this, and it works, if Mingyu’s aggression goes back to a normal level, if he shows everyone that there can be a happy medium when working with robots- it could change everything.”

There’s another stagnant silence and you wait for your boss to chastise you, for him to even fire you-

“You know what,” Yoongi sighs, “I’m not going to argue with you over this any more. I don’t make the decision, his management does. If you want to call them, and explain what you’ve just explained to me, you can do that. But this is your shitstorm, and I don’t want to be part of it.”

“So… so you’re saying I can go forward with this treatment plan?”

“You can, but, I can’t protect you from any consequences of your actions. And I hope you know that once you do this, once you admit to going against their rule to not to look into his coding, there’s no going back.”

Mingyu can feel his aggression levels rising the moment Jimin shows up at the tennis court instead of you, but he focuses on the self-soothing tactics you’d shown him in his entry to wellness booklet. His grip on his racket tightens, but not enough to break it, and he tries to keep a level tone when he asks, “Where’s y/n?”

“She’s in a meeting,” Jimin says dismissively. 

“With who?” 

“That’s none of your concern.”

Mingyu stares at Jimin for a few seconds. “I want to speak to your manager.” 

Jimin makes an amused face. “I didn’t realize they taught you KAREN code in robotics labs. Aren’t you supposed to be a level one?”

Mingyu doesn’t have time for digs about him being a bitchy woman from over a hundred years ago, and he certainly doesn’t have time to play tennis if you’re somewhere talking to your boss about him, somewhere risking your job and his life-

“If you really must know, she’s on a conference call with your management, discussing your treatment plan.”

Mingyu supposes if there’s one thing he should admire about Jimin, it’s his loose lips. “Is she in her quarters?”

“Now that’s really not your concern.”

For a split second, Mingyu considers breaking his racket, but instead, he simply sets it on the ground before turning to take off in the direction of your room. 

He’s never been to your private space, or even in the worker’s wing, but two days ago, you’d mentioned that you have a corner room, one that overlooks the northwest skies, where you can see the sunset and the moons-

He’d also seen a map of the facility, on numerous fire escape screens, and it’s a quick deduction to figure out where you should be. 

He can’t afford to be wrong about this, and for the first time in his life, Mingyu finds himself praying to the human God that he’s able to get to you. To help you in your bid to protect him from his own masters.

Mingyu is running through the facility, but no one tries to stop him, and he’s glad that the wellness center doesn’t have the same armed guards that he’d been accustomed to for most of his life. There are no true handlers here, and it almost feels like freedom for the automaton.

He’s chasing after you, after his destiny-

With beyond human ear sensors, Mingyu is able to hear your voice as he rounds the hall that should lead him to your room, and by the time he’s stopped in front of your door, he knows he’s in the right place.

He also knows that you’re being shot down by his management, and he can hear the ceo, a Mr. Han, chastizing you for looking into Mingyu’s code.

Mingyu wants to barge in, but he finds the control in himself to knock. He hears you apologize profusely, the shrill sound of your chair being dragged across the floor, then footfalls-

Your door opens and Mingyu looks down at you, relief flooding his system.

“Mingyu-”

“I need to be here for this,” he insists. “This can’t be decided without me.”

Your lips part as if to protest, but then you shut them, and you hold the door open wider for the robot to enter the space.

A large screen on your wall shows that not only is Mr. Han present, but many of the other ceo’s and managers from Mingyu’s entertainment company. These are the men and women who have dominion over him, the men and women that could terminate him with one phone call-

His entire life is riding on this moment, and Mingyu decides there’s no possible way he can afford to fuck this up, in any capacity. Not only for himself, but for you too.

“Y/N didn’t do anything wrong,” Mingyu states, approaching the screen so his management team can see him properly. 

Mr. Han sighs. “She went against explicit rules about tampering with your base code-”

“And you created me using illegal code.” Mingyu knows he’s being aggressive, he can feel it, but he knows that this fact is his biggest bargaining chip, and he’s not afraid to use it right out of the gate.

There’s silence on the conference call.

“This would be a scandal if it got out,” Mingyu continues, “more than it already is.”

“Mingyu,” you say quietly at his side, “don’t-”

“No, they need to hear this,” he insists. “They need to know they can’t push you or me around anymore.”

If there’s one language Mr. Han understands, it’s that of business, and Mingyu’s lucky he knows how to speak it as well. “I don’t know what has already been said,” he confesses, “but I’ve run this through my head, and there are only a few options. Some are better than others.”

“We’re listening,” Mr. Han sighs.

“Option one, you try to hide all of this, but it gets out anyways. Using bugged sex bot coding will get out sooner or later, and you’ll all go down being known as the company that used illegal coding to make their money and put their team at risk.” Mingyu stares into the camera, hoping the impact is clear. “Option two… you allow y/n to continue her revolutionary behavioral   treatment on me, it’s successful, and somewhere down the line you can come out admitting there were mistakes in the base code, but now you have a solution for it.”

“I feel like we have more options than that,” Mr. Han says. 

“Maybe,” Mingyu admits, “but the way I see it, all that matters is these two. The bad coding comes out now, and you’re exposed with no solutions, or, it comes out later with a fix already in place.”

“So you expect us to just allow you to stay at the wellness center forever?” Mr. Han questions, as if it’s one of the most preposterous things he’s ever heard. 

“Not forever.”

“You were made to perform, made to make the company money, to work-”

“My group will never be whole again,” Mingyu states. “You won’t be able to recapture all thirteen of us-”

“That’s yet to be determined.” Mr. Han is trying to make it sound like anything is possible, but Mingyu knows it’s highly improbable, and these are odds he’s willing to bet his life on.

“I can be your success story,” he insists. “I can continue doing modeling jobs, continue being a brand mouthpiece for the company- most of us automatons want to work, but, if there’s one thing I’ve learned while being in this facility, it’s that everyone deserves a break. I might be a robot, but I have needs too. I’ll perform better if tactics from this facility are applied to my day to day schedule-”

“You want to be treated like a human?” Mr. Han asks in shock. “Given weekends off?”

“I might not have a soul,” Mingyu admits, “but I’m alive. I have feelings. I have needs, wants,” his gaze slides to you, “aspirations.” 

Mr. Han laughs, “Aspirations? Outside of performing? Like what?” 

“Right now, I’m trying to read a very good book,” Mingyu states. 

“This is preposterous.” Mr. Han sighs.

“What’s preposterous is the working conditions that your company implements on your AI.” For the first time, Mingyu’s gaze shifts to the other people on the screen. “Think about your sons, your daughters, nieces, nephews- would you want your loved ones forced to do the life I was forced to do? Working all day, every day? With handlers threatening them at every turn? Or would you want to give them some semblance of balance?” 

No one says anything.

“You say me and my members are the ones with bugs, we’re the ones that have to be fixed, but it’s the system that’s faulty. What’s the point of AI that’s life like if it’s not free? If it’s not truly living- sitting in the sun, reading a good book, playing stupid sports games with no pressure to excel to an extreme? What’s the point in parading me around if you never give me the environment to achieve past my intrinsic base code? To become more than what I am, a passionate AI who wants to do good for the galaxy?”

“You do good by making your fans happy.”

“There’s more to life than their happiness. First, I need to reach my own. Without constraint, or threat, or fear.”

 Ten seconds pass before Mr. Han says anything. “We’ll need time to consider this. After deliberation, we will call you back.”

The line is dropped and Mingyu hears you let out a deep breath he hadn’t known you were holding.

“Well,” you bite at your lip, “at least it wasn’t an immediate no.” You turn to him, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself. They can say what they want going forward but, as far as I’m concerned, Mingyu, this is the first time I’ve really seen you truly free.”

Waiting for Mingyu’s management team to deliberate is one of the hardest hours of your life. You want to try to stay calm, for Mingyu more than anything, but he sees right through you. When you begin to pace, the automaton stands up to join you, moving back and forth through your space with a concerned expression.

When the shrill sound of your meeting room ringing makes you practically jump, Mingyu reaches out and squeezes your hand, giving you a look that says ‘we’ll get through this,’ although, you’re not so sure.

“Hello, Mr. Han,” you greet the ceo on your screen, fidgeting with your fingers.

The rich man knows time is money, and he cuts to the chase. “After careful consideration,” he says with a sigh, “we’ve decided we can open negotiations with you about the future. As it is true that we might not ever have a complete 53V3NT33N unit again, we think it’s best if Mingyu stays in the center under your care, although in a month’s time, we will revisit this situation with new updates such as the possible recapture of any other members.”

You’re in shock. Completely overwhelmed- and luckily, Mingyu is there to confirm the details where you’re unable to speak. 

“Revisit the situation,” Mingyu repeats. “So this means you won’t terminate me.”

“Not any time soon,” Mr. Han confirms. “We all agree that if your sex bot base code gets out, it would reflect badly on all of us. It seems as if you’re making progress at the center, and if there is a behavioral   answer to the base code bugs, we’d like to find it. Good work y/n. And Mingyu, we’re pleased with your commitment to getting better.”

“Thank you, Mr. Han,” you swallow thickly. “I’ll write a full report on my findings detailing Mingyu’s progress, triggers, and the reasoning behind how his base code is affecting aggression levels.”

Mr. Han nods. “We’ll be excited to receive it, and we’ll be in touch.”

With a short goodbye, the call ends. 

You stand there for a moment, still in shock.

“We did it,” Mingyu breathes, turning to you. “We did it!”

“You did it,” you tell him, reaching out to grab his hands. “Mingyu, I can’t believe-” Your voice cracks, and you can’t complete your sentence, but it doesn’t matter because your big, lovable, automaton is pulling you to his chest, wrapping you in a hug that calms your entire body.

You lean into his embrace, resting your cheek against his strong form and taking a deep breath of relief. 

He holds you for a while, hand stroking your back. “Do you need me to go back to my room?” he asks.

“What?” You pull away to look up at him in confusion.

“I thought maybe you’d have to go tell your boss about this-”

“No,” you shake your head quickly. “He can wait.” You’re so close to him, as close as you’ve ever been, and you find yourself staring at his perfect lips. “He can wait, because I want to do something I’ve been wanting to do for a long time.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s something that’s been on my mind since that first day I met you, something I never allowed myself to want- but now it’s something I think we both need… can I kiss you, Mingyu?”

“Please-” he practically melts in your embrace, looking down at you with those star filled eyes that had captured your attention the very first time you’d seen him. 

You reach up, cupping his cheek and getting on your tiptoes to press your lips to his. 

You’ve never kissed an automaton before, and as Mingyu reacts to you, opening his mouth to allow your tongue to glide across his own, you find that kissing him isn’t much different from any of the humans you’ve kissed in your life. In fact, it’s better. 

His own hands slip around your waist, pulling you tight to the front of his body. You stifle a moan from the contact, loving the way he feels against you.

“Mingyu,” you whisper against his lips, already able to feel yourself getting wetter and wetter-

“More,” he insists. “Please, I want more.” 

“Then take me to bed,” you say simply, all your inhibitions disappearing as you revel in the sanctity of being in his arms.

The automaton reaches down and lifts you up as if you weigh nothing. You wrap your legs around his waist, kissing him deeper as he closes the short distance to your mattress. He lowers you slowly onto the horizontal surface, and you marvel at the control his robotic muscles provide for him in man handling of you. You could definitely get used to this.

Then you realize something, and you stop kissing him, taking a breath while his mouth moves to your neck. “Mingyu- have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Hmm?” he hums against your throat.

“I mean… with all your work and handlers, have you ever…” you bite your lip, “have you ever had sex?”

Mingyu pulls away to look down at you, and then he gives his head a small shake. “I’ve never had the time… never met the right person.”

A virgin sex bot, who’s ever heard of such a thing? 

“But,” he continues, “I have the base code for it, and with my people pleasing tendencies, I don’t think I’ll have any trouble making you feel good.”

“That was never in question,” you assure him, cupping his face and drawing your thumb across his cheekbone. “And tonight shouldn’t just be about me. I can take care of you too… in fact, the whole point of this wellness center is me looking after your needs, wouldn’t you agree?”

Mingyu blinks at you, and he makes no word of protest when you push at his chest, encouraging him to roll so his back is pressed to the mattress while you steady yourself on top of him, straddling his hips.

“We can take this slow,” you tell him, leaning down to kiss his lips before moving to his neck. “Let me know what makes you feel good.”

“You feel good,” he says, dragging his hands along your form. “Your body feels perfect.”

“Yeah?” You swivel your hips, rubbing your core against the large bulge forming in his pants. “Does it feel good when I grind on you?”

“Feels like heaven,” Mingyu confirms, fingers digging into your waist, encouraging you to apply more pressure when you rut against him.

“How about your neck?” you ask, pressing more kisses there. “Do you have any sweet spots?”

“I think… just below my ear-” Mingyu shivers when you lick the spot in question, and the reaction fuels your ego, making you more confident than ever. “Wow-” 

You find yourself giggling, teasing your hands over his white shirt and toying with the hem. “Can I take this off of you, Gyu?” 

“Gyu-” he repeats almost wistfully. “I mean, yeah, yes.” 

When you begin to tug the fabric up, Mingyu lifts his shoulders off the bed, aiding you in the removal of his shirt. 

You’ve seen him shirtless before, while in the pool, but you’d had to try really hard not to appreciate his body then. Now, you can fully lean into your lust for him. 

“You’re so beautiful, Gyu,” you whisper, tracing a nail along his washboard abs. 

“You are too-”

“But right now is about you,” you remind him. “Let me appreciate you, please?”

You return your mouth to his neck, suckling on the spot that makes him dig his fingers into your hips again. He lets out a pretty moan, and in return, you grind your core against his bulge, beginning the descent of your lips to his collarbone, then his chest-

“You know,” you breathe as you stop your mouth on his abs, looking up at him, “I’ve read that automatons can cum multiple times without needing to recharge… does that mean you’ll let me suck you off before I fuck you? Seeing as this is your first time, I wouldn’t want to skip over any milestones.”

“Please-” Mingyu’s hips push up almost involuntarily, and you have to settle your hands on his waist. “Are you… are you sure about this?”

“Are you?” 

“More than anything.”

“Then we’re on the same page,” you tell him, hooking your fingers in the waistband of his white joggers. “I’m going to take your pants off now.”

As he did with his shirt, Mingyu helps you undress him, lifting his hips to make it easier for you to slip the fabric down. You make a conscious decision to leave his briefs on, wanting to toy with him a little, to go slow-

When you cup his bulge, Mingyu moans loudly, and you look up at him with a cocked brow. “Very sensitive, hmm?”

“You just feel so good,” Mingyu groans. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“You’re so big,” you nearly whimper, squeezing his cock through his briefs.

“Nine inches,” he confirms. “Is that… is that okay?”

“It’s big,” you say again, playing with his briefs. You’d left them on to toy with him, but you’re pretty sure you’ve only successfully toyed with yourself. “Can I pull these down?”

“Please-” again, Mingyu lifts his hips, helping you remove his final piece of clothing. 

His large cock practically slaps up against his abs, and you groan at the sight. You suppose he’d been built by someone, made to be perfect, in every way, so you shouldn’t be surprised by how beautiful he is. Yet, you are. 

You wrap your hand around the base of his length. “I don’t think I’ll be able to fit much of you in my mouth,” you tell him honestly.

“That’s okay,” he assures you. “Your hand feels really good.”

“Does it?” You rub your thumb over the large vein that runs along the underside of his cock, appreciating how realistic he is. Of course, as an automaton, Mingyu’s body doesn’t really need veins, but it’s the thought that counts, and whoever designed Mingyu put a lot of thought into him. 

“So good-” Mingyu groans. 

You kitten lick the head of his cock and Mingyu moans louder. “You’re going to have to be a little quieter, Gyu,” you instruct. “Even though I love your sounds.”

“Okay, I’ll try-” he nods, watching you with a dazed expression.

This time, instead of just licking him, you wrap your whole mouth around his large tip, suckling on the skin. Mingyu lets out a small whimper, grabbing at the bed sheets. 

You’re not sure if Mingyu’s cock will feel the same type of skin irritation of dry strokes, but you want him to have the best experience possible, so you allow yourself to drool on his cock. You bob up and down on what can fit in your mouth while collecting the spit lubrication, rubbing it along his shaft and applying a good amount of pressure-

“Shit-” This must be the first time you’ve heard Mingyu cuss, and the thought delights you as you continue to blow him like your life depends on it. 

You close your eyes, getting lost in the feeling of pleasuring him. It’s been a while since you’ve slept with anyone, as working out of a wellness center doesn’t provide you with many opportunities to meet men, especially men who you like. But you really like Mingyu, in fact, part of you thinks you might even love him, as crazy as that sounds. 

You’d almost forgotten how good it feels to give this sort of attention to someone you care about, and your hand moves faster on his cock while you try to take more of him into your mouth.

“This feels amazing-” Mingyu breathes above you, and it gives you the motivation you need to be extra daring, allowing the tip of his cock to hit the back of your throat- “Fuck-” 

His hips push up slightly and you rest one of your hands on his abdomen again, encouraging him to stay still while you blow him. As much as you’d like to let him fuck your face, he’s simply too big to do that, especially when you haven’t had a cock in your mouth in months. 

You continue stroking him, but you pull your lips from his length, taking a breath and looking up at the gorgeous man. “Do you think you can cum for me, Gyu?”

“I can do anything for you,” he whispers back.

“Yeah?” you pump his cock harder, leaning down to lick the underside from base to tip. 

“Please-” he practically begs. “I think I’m close-”

With the way automatons often power down at night, you wonder if he’s ever even touched himself. If he’s ever actually cum before- but now’s not the right time to ask for details, not when your mouth needs to be on him again instead of talking. 

You go back to sucking on his cock, paying special attention to the sensitive tip while your hand works what your mouth can’t. All the while, Mingyu’s small sounds of pleasure keep you going, and they get pitchier and pitchier until you know he’s on the cusp of an orgasm.

“Oh my god,” he moans, “I’m gonna-”

The automaton can’t even finish his sentence, his whole body tensing as he explodes down your throat. You’re pleasantly surprised to find that his cum tastes like grape- and you’re reminded that sex bots have flavoured ejaculate. If you remember correctly, grape had been a flavour often given to the hopeless romantic/soft boy bots, and you realize how fitting it is.

You also realize that this might be why Mingyu’s been kept under such lock and key. If anyone had ever tasted his cum, they would have immediately made the sex bot connection. As far as you know, many non sex bots have flavourless cum, or something akin to the taste of a human’s but Gyu’s is one hundred percent sex bot and one hundred percent sexy. 

It actually tastes good, and you have no problems swallowing every drop, working Mingyu through his orgasm until he’s whimpering above you, reaching down to push the hair out of your face.

You pull off Mingyu’s cock, looking up at him to find the most blissed out automaton you’ve ever seen. “That was amazing,” he tells you. 

“I enjoyed that too,” you admit.

“You did?” He watches you sit up, undoing the buttons of your shirt. 

“Uh huh, you taste perfect, Gyu.”

“I do?” He looks almost bashful, and as handsome as ever. “I bet… I bet you taste good too.” 

Your pussy throbs and you let out a deep breath, removing your shirt. “Maybe you should see for yourself.”

“Fuck, yes, please-” Mingyu sits up abruptly, grabbing you and gently tossing you onto the bed next to him. You land on your back, and Mingyu is quick to get between your legs, lips finding your own.

He only kisses you for a moment before he begins a descent that’s similar to what you’d done to him, and you wonder if he’s using your own actions as a base for learning what to do in a sexual situation. 

His tongue teases over your collar bone and his large hand comes up to cup your breast. “Can I take your bra off?” he asks.

“You can take everything off,” you confirm, arching your back so he can slip his hand under you and undo the clasp in record speed.

Your breasts are now exposed to the cool air of your room, and your nipples pebble for Mingyu’s eager mouth. His lips wrap around a sensitive bud while his fingers begin to play with the other, teasing and gently pinching at you.

You moan, threading your own digits through his hair. “Feels so good, Gyu.”

He groans, teeth grazing your nipple and causing you to buck your hips, pushing up against his body-

“Please-” you whimper, and Mingyu seems to know exactly what to do with your begging. His hand slips between your bodies, and he works on the front of your pants while he continues to worship your chest. 

When he gets your button and zipper undone, his mouth continues it’s descent, both hands reaching to tug on your pants. You lift your hips, and in one motion, you find yourself completely naked. 

Mingyu’s much too big to lie on the foot of the bed, so he slips to the floor, grabbing your legs and pulling you closer. “You look so pretty,” he tells you, adjusting your thigh onto his shoulder while looking at your pussy. “So wet and perfect-”

You feel your skin heat with something like embarrassment, but the feeling quickly dissipates as soon as Mingyu brings his mouth to your core. 

He doesn’t start with kitten licks, but instead goes all in. His tongue pushes into your hole, nose brushing by your clit while he tastes your walls. The feeling is absolutely delightful and it makes you gasp, reaching down to thread your fingers through his soft hair, grinding yourself against his face.

“Mingyu,” you whimper, “just like that!”

He continues to eat you out, continually brushing his nose by your clit while you close your eyes and enjoy the sensation. His tongue is like magic, especially when he pulls it from your hole to circle your sensitive nub.

When you look down at him, you find him watching you, checking you for reactions, and the eye contact makes your stomach do flips. “You’re so good,” you tell him, knowing he likes praise.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you cry out, hips pushing toward his face-

One of his large hands finds your abdomen, holding you down against the bed while the other slips between your legs, two fingers easily sliding into your hole beneath his tongue on your clit. 

The feeling has you grabbing at the sheets, orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “I’m close,” you tell him. “Please, Mingyu-”

He sucks on your clit even harder, pumping his fingers in and out of your wet hole until your pussy is clamping down on him and you’re cumming hard. You cry out, whole body alight with pleasure as he works you through your high, tongue circling your clit and causing tingles of euphoria to jitter through you until you’re bucking your hips and on the edge of overstimulation.

Mingyu pulls away from you, slowly pumping his fingers before removing them too. Then he brings his digits to his lips and you watch him lick them clean, groaning at your taste. 

You need him more than you’ve ever needed anyone in your entire life.

“Please, Gyu,” you whimper. “I need you inside of me-”

He stands from the foot of the bed, towering over you while you open your legs for him. Then one of his knees digs into the mattress and he’s joining you again, lifting you up so he can position you higher, with your head on the pillows. 

He grabs the base of his cock, looking down between your bodies to where he’s rubbing through your folds. “What if this hurts you?” he asks. 

“It won’t. You won’t,” you assure him, grabbing at his strong shoulders. “I trust you.”

He looks deep into your eyes, leaning down to kiss you before he begins to push into your wet hole. You moan against his lips, body working to accommodate the large intrusion that he so gently slides into you.

“You’re so tight,” he whimpers, “so warm.” 

“Only for you Gyu, only for you-”

He kisses you then, giving small thrusts until he’s burying himself completely, your bodies are flush together while you wrap your arms around the back of his neck. You’ve never felt anything like Mingyu, and when he takes his first real thrust, you cry out in pleasure, moaning desperately against his mouth.

His hand digs into your hips, keeping you anchored while he picks up his speed, and that’s when you remember that as an automaton, he can go as fast as he wants, for as long as he wants. 

He’s hitting spots deep inside of you, spots that have never truly been used until now, and you know that you’re not going to last long like this. 

When his lips move down to the sweet spot on your neck, you can feel your pussy clench around him, and Mingyu groans against your skin.

“You’re perfect,” he tells you, fucking you harder. “So perfect-”

You can’t even speak, can’t tell him that he’s the one who’s perfect. All you can do is moan in his ear while he makes you feel like no one else in the galaxy ever has.

You’d come into this hoping you’d be the one fucking him, the one taking care of him, but now, he’s taking care of you, and you promise yourself to return the favour when possible. You’d love to ride him, but your legs already feel like jelly, and when Mingyu slips a hand between your bodies again, drawing circles on your clit, you know you’ll be a goner soon.

“Gyu-” you whimper. “I’m so close-”

“I want you to cum,” he groans, fucking you faster. “Wanna make you cum.” 

“Please,” you’re nearly crying from how perfect it all feels. “So good, so good-”

“I’m close too,” he tells you. “Watching you cum will send me over- you’re so pretty when you cum.”

His praise makes your core throb again and you gasp, threading your fingers through his hair and bringing his lips to yours. You can’t explain it, but you want to be kissing him when you’re thrown over the edge, want to be completely consumed by him-

“Gyu-” you whimper, closer and closer-

He kisses you harder while he fucks you stupid, taking your breath away until you’re gasping out as you fall over the edge, pussy clamping down hard on his cock.

He moans into your mouth, pace never faltering as he fucks you through your orgasm, working you for all you’re worth while you claw at his shoulders and whimper pathetically. 

You can feel him filling you up, coating your insides with his cum, making you his needy little whore. You feel greedy for it, for all of it, for all of him. 

His thrusts slowly come to a stop, and he pulls away from your lips to look down at you, watching you catch your breath. “Would it be crazy to tell you I love you?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “No crazier than me returning the sentiment.”

“Really?” His mouth is on yours a moment later, and he kisses you with newfound passion.

It’s easy to get lost in his lips again, even while his cock is still buried balls deep in your pussy, and you wrap your arms tighter around the back of his neck, hoping he never leaves you.

It seems as though the same thought is on Mingyu’s mind, because when he pulls away, he asks, “What happens after all of this?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “But… no matter what, I’m going to fight for you. I promise.”

“Really?”

“Uh huh. I’ve worked in this facility for years- I’ve watched level ones come in and out of here, seen the wear and tear, the use of bad coding. I’ve got lots of ideas on how to help you - and them - get better. If you’re not the only one with sex bot code, it would explain a lot of the issues I’ve seen-”

“Are you going to fix me?” the automaton asks.

For some reason, you find yourself laughing. “Mingyu,” you cup his face, thinking through all the events that have led you to this moment. “I could never fix you, you don’t need to be fixed. In fact… I think you fixed me.”

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I had so much fun with this collab, find the masterlist for it here

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. He’s an AI with sexbot coding and a one track mind when it comes to making love, and you honestly sort of love that about him. 

cw/ tw. Sad Gyu, distraction sex, pussy eating, pussy stretching, fingering, blowjob, unprotected sex, teasing, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, praise, big dick mingyu, switchy/submissive leaning Mingyu, hair pulling, breast worship, mention of the classic sex bot flavoured ejaculate, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.1k I teaser wc. 600

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

It’s been months since Mingyu came to the wellness centre, and everything has been going above expectation for him. He’s doing brand endorsements again and his management team has done a great job smoothing over the escape that took place.

You’ve been working on his coding, using behavioral   therapies, and Mingyu’s aggression is at an all time low. He’s happy most days, and you are too… that is, until you get word that one of his band mates has been recaptured.

Against all your protests, his management team insists that Mingyu return to Earth to see the AI Mingyu knows as Dino. It’s a brief trip, and the fourty eight hours he’s gone feel like the longest in your life. There’s no way of knowing how this reconnection with a former ‘friend’ will affect Mingyu, and you brace yourself for damage control as you wait for his ship to land, returning him to your care.

He’s frowning as he exits the shuttle, and when he pulls you into a hug, he squeezes just a little too tight. “Come inside,” you tell him softly when he releases you. “I’m sure we have a lot to talk about.”

He says nothing, but he holds your hand as you lead him into the facility, walking unopposed to your quarters. Mingyu’s in your sole care, and your manager, Yoongi, has washed his hands of anything dealing with your new AI turned lover. You prefer it this way.

Mingyu’s quiet as you close your bedroom door, and he walks over to collapse onto your bed, staring at the floor.

“Take your time,” you say softly, sitting next to him and resting your hand on his back. “When you’re ready to talk, tell me what happened.”

Mingyu fidgets with a ring on his pinky- a ring that all his AI members used to share. He’s silent for a few minutes, and you wait patiently, rubbing his back and leaning against his shoulder.

“They wiped his memory,” Mingyu says finally. “Dino. They wiped him.”

You study his face, looking for any micro expressions, but Mingyu’s gaze is blank as he stares at the floor.

“Did they tell you why they decided to do that?” you ask, trying to be gentle with him.

“They said he was too far gone. He was away for months. They said there was no other way to get him back to the way he was… but he’s not the way he was. He never will be.” Mingyu takes a deep breath. “I asked them why they wouldn’t try rehab, why they couldn’t send him here- they said Dino gave up that opportunity when he ran away. I stayed, I gave myself up willingly, which is why they thought there was hope for me. Something about my actions being like a guilty plea, lessening the sentence. But Dino evaded them for months.”

You take a moment to consider everything he’s said. 

If this is the precedent that his management is setting, that means none of his other bandmates can be recaptured, or they’ll suffer the same fate… if not worse. You can’t imagine what they’d do to Seungcheol, who was the ringleader in all of this- and you don’t want to think about it too deeply.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“You didn’t do anything,” Mingyu says meekly. “I know you tried to convince them to send him here but- I guess not everyone gets a happy ending. In fact, I’m starting to think most people like me never will.”

☀️ to read the 3.1k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee

@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan - @grilledbananas

svt taglist:

@rebeccasficrecs - @alltowoo - @taestrwbrry - @greysdarling

@joonsneptune - @candidupped - @cheolussy

@yourfavoritefreakyhan - @asjkdk

thanks to those who interacted with the teaser :)

@donquixotesvt - @shiningnono - @dejavernon - @seul9yu

@hoeranghae1117 - @caratcak3 - @goodforgyu

#mingyu #mingyu smut #svthub #svthub.collab #kim mingyu #kim mingyu smut #svt #svt smut #mingyu svt #svt mingyu #seventeen #seventeen smut #ai mingyu #mingyu svt smut #svt mingyu smut

[primehyuck]

MOVES

aka good things take time (the happy ending version)

word count: 11.3k

i first started writing this because i’ve been listening to the song Moves by Suki Waterhouse on repeat, but it became much more than that

contents: long time best friend!haechan, slice of life, pining and yearning, chronological time jumps (mostly college and young adulthood), other members mentioned (Mark and Jeno!roommates), kissing, fluff, wet dreams, a good example of two people who seriously need to communicate, face sitting, morning sex, lots of pet names

“Do you think we’ll be friends for a long time?” Haechan’s soft voice distracts your attempt to focus on a blade of the blurry ceiling fan, unable to keep you cool despite it spinning so fast you think it might fly away.

“How do you mean?” the bed squeaks when Haechan sits up to lean over you.

“Growing up, I feel like my parents didn’t have many friends aside from each other. My mom told me that it’s because when you get older your priorities change and you realize who adds value to your life, and that’s who you decide to keep.” His eyes are glowing with sincerity, body blocking the flow of air from touching you at all “so when we’re older, and married with kids and other priorities, and we maybe live in different cities, do you think we’ll still be friends?”

You stare at him for a moment before shoving his face out of the way of the fans air stream.

“Definitely,” your confidence soothes him enough that he lays back down “if I ever muster up the creativity to come up with a reason to stop being your friend, you have to swear you’ll tell me how stupid I’m being, swear to me.” you smack his chest before he can even answer.

“I swear!” He smiles to himself, staring up at the ceiling with you, rubbing his hand over the warm spot where your hand made contact, melting into the mattress.

———

Growing up people always joked that Haechan and you would fall in love, that it was inevitable, practical even. Because, if you fall in love with your best friend you’ve already conquered one of the highest mountains - finding someone that you like, and who likes you back.

You had both seen the other in a relationship, an inevitability when you’ve been friends with someone since puberty. He’d cheered you on when you had your first kiss during a game of spin the bottle in high school, forced you to come out on double dates with him and a friend of his you didn’t even like just so he could take someone else out, and freshman year of college he’d even introduced you to the person you'd lost your virginity to.

The only time he cockblocked you was when you tried to get to know any of his friends more than platonically, so eventually you gave up and settled for real friendship with all of them.

“Trust me, you don’t want to touch him with a six foot pole.” He’d said freshman year when you had mentioned your attraction to his roommate, Mark.

“He seems so nice, though.” you pouted

“He is nice, but that doesn’t mean you want to be with him.”

“How would you know what I want?” you scoffed, and he looked at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Has the wind beneath my wings ever led you into the wrong arms?” He was highly animated, offended that you would question his judgment.

By the start of sophomore year it was obvious to everyone else that you were strictly off limits. All of his friends had decided unanimously that even if you did attempt anything with them they had no choice but to shut you down. The cold stare Haechan unknowingly serves them from across the room whenever they got too close was enough to keep them away. None of the boys ever minded the boundaries with you, there always was an ease in your friendship since they all knew it could never go further, but that didn’t mean they never thought about the possibility.

One night, at the end of junior year, Haechan is nowhere to be found at his own party and you graciously accept Jeno’s invitation upstairs when you complain of a headache, “we can play Mario Kart, and it won’t be all competitive like when Haechan plays with us.”

It starts like normal, and you're having fun when you realize that your tipsy brain can’t focus on the screen and the conversation simultaneously, opting for the latter as you relax into Jeno’s pillows. You don’t even notice him inching closer to you until his nose touches yours, tugging at a strand of your hair. This is the first time any of Haechan’s friends have shown interest in you, you’d never even been on the receiving end of a flirtatious stare from across the beer pong table, so you take the reins.

Kissing Jeno feels a little bit like winning, like you’ve finally made it past the invisible forcefield Haechan had put up around his friends. The kiss is lazy and hot, Jeno props himself up on one elbow and presses your back into the mattress with his chest. Your eager fingers run beneath his shirt, his abs tightening when you trail them over his sides. Your spine tingles when he groans into your mouth, the hand on your cheek moving to grip your knee and hike your leg over his hip. His hand holds strong around your thigh, and you sigh when he grinds into you.

Jeno pulls away too soon, stopping your hands reaching for the hem of his shirt with a pained sigh as he drops your leg to roll onto his back, flinging an arm over his eyes.

“Fuck, I should not be doing this with you.”

“Why, you don’t want to?” You want to curl into yourself, sitting up to stare down at his shaking head.

“No, definitely not that.” he pulls his arm away to meet your eyes, the alcohol in his veins making him brave enough to admit “Haechan would be pissed.”

“Haechan?” you question “did he say something to you?” Jeno groans, sitting up and hooking his elbows around his knees, staring at the mattress between his legs.

“No, no. He’s never actually said anything,” he knows he’s revealing too much, but he also knows he’s gone too far to stop “we just know he would never want us to cross that line with you.”

“We?” you can feel embarrassment bubbling in your chest at the idea of all of your friends talking about this.

“Yeah, you know, all the guys. We figured you were just off limits, I don’t know.” he grimaces, looking up at you with apologetic eyes when you don’t respond. You huff and climb off the bed, feeling rejected in more ways than one.

You’d crossed a boundary tonight, but Jeno was still a close friend, someone you’d spent a lot of time with since he met Haechan freshman year. He still knows you, so he grabs your wrist before you can leave, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed so he can stand you between his legs.

“I’m sorry, don’t be mad.” He envelops your hands in his and brings them to his chest.

“I’m not mad,” you mumble, avoiding his apologetic gaze “I’m embarrassed that all of my friends agreed not to touch me.”

“Did you really think not a single one of us was ever interested in you?” you shrug and he squeezes your hands tighter, heart tugging in his chest.

“When people don’t act interested, that’s usually a safe assumption.” you pout and Jeno’s laugh buzzes through your linked fingers "I gave up on all of you halfway through freshman year."

“Well, some of us are better actors than I remember.”

He has you laughing by the time you leave his room, sealing the night with one more self indulgent kiss and a pinky swear to never tell Haechan about what happened.

———

Halfway through the first semester of senior year Haechan bangs angrily on his roommates door before swinging it open and Jeno is genuinely shocked that it's taken this long for the gossip to hit his ears. The rest of the boys had clocked Jeno the next morning for being ‘too happy’ and he had to make them all swear not to tell, wanting to protect your pride and his own friendship with Haechan.

"You slut!" Haechan points an accusatory finger in Jeno's direction, dragging his feet slowly toward him until he's so close Jeno has to bat his hand out of his face.

"What are you talking about?"

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm talking about." Haechan's voice is low and angry, something new and unpleasant sparking in his gut at the idea of Jeno kissing you, touching you.

"No, I don't." Jeno can’t help but antagonize. Pleased with the perfect opportunity to trick Haechan into saying out loud what everyone else seems to have known for years.

"You kissed my best friend!" He shrieks, tossing his hands up in the air dramatically.

"So what, she's not allowed to kiss people?" Haechan squints his eyes at Jeno’s response, scrunching his nose in annoyance “how did you even find out?”

"She can kiss whoever she wants, it's all of you that aren't allowed to kiss her." Haechan waves his hand wildly toward the bedroom door, alluding to the large group of boys living in the house “you know Mark can’t keep a secret, he’s been bursting at the seams for months. All I had to do was ask.”

"It happened forever ago dude, why are you so pissed? You've never even given us a chance to get close to her in that way, maybe one of us could really like her." Jeno reasons, tugging at Haechan's strings, watching the gears in his brain turn as he tries to come up with a real argument.

"She has a boyfriend," Haechan finally says with a frown at the thought of the guy he’d only recently met, he doesn’t like him at all. From his stupid hair to the shoes he wears, there’s not a thing about your new boyfriend that Haechan thinks is good enough for you. He collapses into the gaming chair across from where Jeno is relaxed on the couch, not having moved at all since Haechan stormed in "plus, I think any of you would know by now, you've all known her for four years."

"I think, that it can take a lot longer than four years to realize how much you like someone." Jeno bites, "how long have you known her?"

"Since middle school." He picks at the hole in the knee of his black jeans, realizing what Jeno is alluding to, defensive exterior quickly crumbling.

"Right, I think that if you're blind enough then it can take ten years to realize how much you like someone."

"Well, maybe ten years is too long and that person missed their chance." Haechan turns his head to stare out the window, anxiously spinning the chair side to side.

"You know I'm talking about you, right?"

"God, yes, I know you're talking about me." Haechan glares at his friend, fidgeting stopping abruptly "and I know I've been a complete idiot about it, but like I said, I’m out of time."

———

Haechan can’t stop his free hand from clenching and unclenching as you sob into your pillow, his less angry hand rubbing over your back.

“He told me he saw us moving in together after graduation,” your voice shakes “how do you look someone in the eyes and say shit like that and then sleep with someone else?”

“I don’t know,” Haechan replies earnestly, feeling as helpful as flip flops in the snow from where he sits on the edge of your mattress “I’m so sorry.”

He takes your silence as an invitation, lying on his stomach, face turned toward you, fingers still drawing soothing circles over your shoulder blades. He waits patiently for you to calm down, unease swarming his stomach knowing that even after years of friendship he can’t truly comfort you in this moment.

“I’m so embarrassed.” you sniffle, smearing your face over your pillow before turning to look at him. He holds his breath, waiting for you to collect yourself enough to explain.

“I’m so gullible, he even told me he’s cheated in the past and for whatever reason I believed that he’d treat me differently, that he’d love me enough.” Haechan has to count to five in his head to stay calm before he speaks.

“You have no reason to be embarrassed. The most natural thing you can do is believe someone when they say they love you.” He murmurs, turning onto his side so he can pull you into a hug. When you curl into his body to bury your face in his chest he can only pray you can’t hear his heart pound against his ribs.

“He’s an idiot, and he didn’t deserve any of the love you gave him. I promise, you’re so much better off.”

Haechan hates the piece of himself that’s relieved your relationship has ended. The same piece that hated your ex the minute he met him, that feels heavy in your absence whenever you’re busy with anyone who isn’t him. The piece that crosses it’s fingers whenever you get this close in hopes that you’ll be the first one to cross the line, to finally do what he’s thought about doing for the last few months since he realized exactly how he felt about you.

“Thank you,” you mumble into his tear dampened shirt, lifting your leg over his to cuddle in even closer “thanks for always being my friend, even when I do dumb shit, like let boys be mean to me.”

He nuzzles his nose into your scalp, eyes fluttering shut at the smell of your shampoo “Thanks for letting me. Besides, even Beyoncé got cheated on, so you clearly aren’t that dumb.” the crowd in his brain cheers when you giggle into his chest.

“You’re so annoying.” He holds you even tighter.

———

“I can’t believe it,” your jaw drops and Haechan whips his head up nervously to look at you from across the couch

“What happened?”

“I got it, I got the job!” you shove his feet off your lap to jump up excitedly, bouncing on your toes as you read the email out loud. Haechan’s ears are ringing so loud he barely catches the first half, trying to shake off the dazed look he’s sure appears on his face.

“We were extremely impressed with your resume and even more so with the impression you left on the board during your interview, blah blah blah, excited to offer you this position, blah blah blah, and a relocation bonus to join us in in our new office!” the pitch of your voice rises a few octaves as you finish reading.

Haechan stares at you from his spot on the couch, eyes wide with shock that you’re too excited to notice, skimming your screen as you re-read the details in your offer letter.

His entire body is buzzing, torn between feeling excited at your accomplishment and sorry for himself.

He had a plan, a really good one, he thought. After your breakup you’d made it painfully clear that you wanted to be single for a while, and he knew if he could just be patient, it would all be worth it. So Haechan decided to bottle his feelings up, sitting patiently by your side where he had been for so many years, waiting for you to heal and hoping that when you were finally ready to start dating again he’d have mustered up the courage to make the first move.

“Lee Donghyuck, are you even listening to me!?” you drop your phone to pull him up off the couch, bouncing up and down with your fingers intertwined “I’m moving to my dream city, to start my dream job.” you reiterate and he snaps out of it, sweeping the imaginary shards of glass that his plan had been made out of under the rug and pulling you into a hug.

“That’s amazing, I’m so proud of you.”

“Your enthusiasm is overwhelming.” You deadpan, but squeeze him back just as tight.

“I’m sorry, I’m going to miss you is all.” He admits, "I'd follow you if my job didn't keep me here."

“I’ll make sure you don’t miss me too much, don’t worry.” you plant your cheek on his chest, surprised at the relief you feel in hearing him say it first.

———

This feeling was still a little unfamiliar, nerves. Haechan had never made you nervous growing up; excited, annoyed, passionate maybe, but never nervous.

The nerves began last summer, when he’d come out to visit you for the first time to celebrate his birthday. It was the longest you’d gone without seeing each other since you’d met, almost ten full months and the anticipation was palpable.

When he steps through the airport doors you think that it’s the relief of finally being near him again that knocks the wind out of you. Running into his open arms and being squeezed so tightly in them that you tap his shoulder to let you breathe. Ruffling his hair when he steps back and ignoring the fact that he had grown so much since you’d seen him last.

But as the night goes on, the slight changes to the person you have memorized become glaringly obvious. The way his cheeks have lost some of their cushion, revealing a sharp jaw and pointed cheekbones. The natural wave in his once unruly hair now falling perfectly over his brow bone, he had dyed it a little darker which made his tan skin glow even in dim lighting. Even his smell seemed to draw you into a trance, a much more expensive version of the Haechan you know.

“You know, that group of girls has been staring over at you since we walked in.” You raise your eyebrows playfully, pointing your glass toward the pretty gaggle that keeps walking past the booth you and Haechan occupy.

He doesn’t break eye contact with you before shrugging, “I didn’t come here to see them, I came to see you.” he smiles, punctuating his thought by reaching over the table and tapping your nose.

“I know, I know,” you laugh, batting him away “It never hurts to know when people are staring, though”

His face is unreadable as he rests his arm lazily up over the bench of the booth, body sinking into the seat while he lifts his glass to swirl his drink, biting the words that have been resting on the tip of his tongue the entire trip, and at the end of every phone call since you started your new job.

“How are you, seriously.” You push. In the time since you moved he’d started and ended a relationship with a girl that you’d never met. Your new job kept you so busy that you hadn’t even learned about the breakup until a week later, when you finally had the time to call him back. The guilt of your absence weighs you down, resenting your inability to be there for him the way he had been for you in the past.

“I’m over it, seriously.” You know he’s telling the truth, but it’s in your nature to pry.

“You never really talked about, why, you know.”

“Do I have to?”

“No, I’m sorry, I just feel so behind on your life.” You sigh and push your empty glass to the side, swirling your finger in the ring of cold water it leaves behind.

“It’s okay, really. You’ve been busy, I understand.” He reaches across the table to stop your anxious fingers “I didn’t love her the way I knew I should, that’s all. It’s a good thing that it ended, and I’m happy that it did.”

“That’s all that matters, then.” and he’s grateful that you drop the subject.

You eventually get back to your apartment, both giggly and flush from the alcohol still fogging your brain despite the long walk you'd hoped would lessen it. Haechan holds your hand the whole way back, even when he stops suddenly to pet a dog, dragging you down to the ground with him. He can’t help himself, grateful that at this point you'd touched one another in every way other than what he dreams about most, and you seem oblivious to his need to be so close to you.

As you get ready for bed he lets himself watch you undress facing the wall away from him, unaware of his gaze burning into your backside and the way his fingers tingle at the thought of pulling at the meat of your hips. He scolds his heart for thudding so loud when you squeeze your eyes into a smile at his reflection standing next to yours at the sink while you brush your teeth, the domestication of your friendship that he used to appreciate now suffocating him.

You put on a movie and invite him to rest his head on the pillow in your lap, wishing he could bury his nose into the skin of your thighs beneath it. Halfway through the movie he has to sit up to hide the way his cock is hardening at the feeling of your nails combing through his hair and down his shoulder, occasionally thrumming over his chest. He pulls a blanket off the back of the couch and tosses it over his legs as casually as possible, pulling you into his side by your shoulder, the other arm stretched across the back of the couch.

"Are you cold for the first time in your life?" Haechan never wants to use a blanket, but you’re grateful for the position giving you access to bury your face into his chest, gripping his shirt.

"No, just want to be warmer." he presses a blushing cheek onto the top of your head, trying to think of anything except the way your hair smells, or the feeling of the side of your breast brushing his wrist through your shirt. Haechan feels eighteen again and like he's discovering the connection between romantic and sexual feelings for the first time in his life. He tries to match his breathing to yours, holding his breath whenever you shift in his hold and reconnecting his stomach with your back as quickly as possible. The temptation to pour his heart out is overwhelming, but when he feels your body completely relax into his and your breathing slow down, the words become trapped in his throat, so he lets you sleep.

Haechan had never experienced a shorter 48 hours than that weekend he spent following you around the city you now call home.

You’re shining in your new space, and he happily trails behind you to all the places you’ve discovered in the almost year since you moved. His stomach does somersaults whenever you point something out that reminds you of him.

“I’ve been waiting to come here until you could come with me!” you're so excited to take him to the video game themed coffee shop that your co-workers had recommended “I thought about coming to see if it was even worth it, but I only want to play these kinds of games with you anyway.”

Sometimes he can forget about his feelings for you, when things are just as they always have been. You talk with and touch him the same, laugh at his jokes the same. He thinks that if he were to ever say out loud what he’s been feeling, that the two of you would still be the same but with a little More, ‘you guys’ but on steroids. So when everything is normal he can pretend like it‘a not. He can act like the More is there when you hold his hand to drag him around to the different machines, play games he wants to play even if you don’t want to, you even wipe ice cream off of his chin when his cone starts to melt because he’s talking too much to eat and he wonders why it took him so long to see it this way, and if you could too.

He keeps thinking the moment will come, when he’ll know spilling his guts to you is the right thing to do. But between you gushing over how much you love your new life and your willingness to point out every girl who has blinked at him this weekend, he completely loses the steam he’d gained during his flight, regardless of how his imagination runs wild with the More.

He curses himself the entire weekend for his lack of bravery, hoping that keeping his feelings in is the right decision. After his recent relationship crashed and burned because of his feelings for you he thought he had no choice but to come clean. But watching you, being with you in your new life makes him realize that his role in it hasn’t changed even if his feelings for you have.

The lump in his throat as he stands outside the departure doors is more than just sadness at the thought of leaving you, it’s the realization that he has to let the romantic idea of you go.

“How come you never cry when we have to leave each other,” you hiccup into his chest, and he coos your name lovingly.

“Don’t worry, you know I save my tears for the plane to make everyone in my row uncomfortable.” He knows that you hate that he’s making you laugh at a time like this, pulling away so you can swat his chest and he raises his hands in surrender.

“When will we be able to see each other again?”

“As soon as possible.” He nods reassuringly, wiping your tears with his thumb, heart pounding as he stares into your watering eyes “hey, you’re my best friend in the world, you annoy me every day, and I love you.”

“Whatever, I love you too.” you laugh, but his heart speeds up at the words that you’ve said to him thousands of times. You sweep your arms around him one last time before pushing him toward the airport doors “you better go, if you miss your flight I can’t guarantee I’ll let you leave at all.”

“Don’t tempt me.” He walks backwards slowly, staring at you with a ‘kicked puppy’ kind of face he mastered years ago and you wave enthusiastically, blowing loud kisses into the air that he catches and clutches to his heart.

“This is it,” he thinks, “this has to be it.”

———

Haechan is dreaming about you. He has been nightly ever since he got back from his birthday weekend. He’s grateful the dreams have variety, since some of them overwhelm him to the point of waking up and not being able to fall back asleep.

Sometimes, you’re young again and whenever anyone says “You know, it’s just a matter of time until one of you has a crush on the other.” you both theatrically gag, laughing at each other as if it were the most insane idea in the world. Or, you're sitting on his childhood couch watching your guys' favorite movie for the hundredth weekend in a row, vocalizing the parts of the two main characters and recreating all the best scenes.

Sometimes you’re at his apartment just hanging out together, which are dreams that feel so real he almost expects to see you in his kitchen when he wakes up. Most of these dreams spark a deja vu laced flame in his gut so deep he finds himself confusing them with memories. The ache of missing you wakes him up before his alarm some mornings, and he finds himself face timing you once he knows you're awake just to watch you make coffee and wash your face.

But sometimes, he has dreams that make him feel so ashamed he can barely text you back in the morning. Dreams where he reaches to touch you and you let him, where you tug at his hair and moan his name while he does all the things that he can only do to you in his sleep. He hates to say that these are his favorite, but it's the one dream he knows he'll never actually achieve and he goes to bed every night praying for them.

That’s the kind of dream he’s having when his phone buzzes him awake. He answers without looking because there are only a handful of people who can reach him when he’s on ‘do not disturb’, and you’re one of them. He hums a sleepy greeting into his phone, putting it on speaker next to his pillow and nearly drifting right back into the dream and between your thighs.

“Donghyuck” his eyes shoot open at the sound of your voice “did i wake you up?”

He can practically hear the pout in your voice, squinting at the time on his phone, “Yes, it’s three in the morning,” he stares down to where he’s half hard, running an embarrassed hand over his face even though there’s no possible way for you to know “are you okay?”

“No, well technically yes but I miss you which means things could be better.” you slur your words and Haechan smiles, somehow he's never annoyed that you call him pretty much every time you drink. He thinks it's because he's familiar with this version of you, though he definitely hasn't seen it often since college graduation. This version of you loves him hard, and is never afraid to say it.

"I miss you too," he takes a beat before adding "I was dreaming about you just now."

You gasp excitedly "Really! What were we doing." He smirks at the thought of telling you that you had been sitting on his face, hand reaching back for his cock while he guides your cunt over his tongue until you were shaking above him.

"Just, hanging out." he shrugs. It's his second time this week alone dreaming of your clit bumping his nose, and the thought makes his mouth water.

"I don't believe you." You say accusingly "that's way too boring for a mind like yours to dream up."

"What exactly is my mind like?" He yawns, throwing his forearm over his eyes.

"Oh, you know," you hum "your mind is a galaxy, with at least a billion planets and twice as many stars. I wish I could fly into your head and explore it, but NASA doesn't have the funds."

Haechan holds his breath at your compliment, the smile on his face so wide he can hear it in his own voice "That sounds like an episode of Magic School Bus."

"Your brain is definitely cooler than some cartoon, it's pretty much my favorite place on Earth."

"How would you know, you've never actually been inside?" He shakes his head, teasing you gently. Hearing words like these come out of your mouth breaks his heart and glues it back together at the same time.

"Are you saying you never think about me?" you ask him, not an ounce of sarcasm in your voice.

"I think about you all the time, I promise, all the planets in my brain are shaped like you." You hum, pleased with his response. He shuts his eyes and waits for your answer.

"Yeah, all the planets in mine are shaped like you, too." you pause for a second and add "plus all the stars, I win, I think about you more."

———

This time when Haechan comes to visit you, you know the nerves are more than just excitement at seeing your best friend. It’s a feeling that is nestled so deep in your stomach it makes you a little nauseous. You haven't seen him since you went home for the holidays and he only has one night in the city. You find yourself grueling over your reflection in the mirror, not used to being self conscious in front of him. You’re only going out for happy hour, but you put yourself together to last all night.

When Haechan finally arrives he whistles lowly, making you blush when he pulls out of your hug and requests a spin.

“I appreciate that you got so dressed up for me.” He teases, hoping you don’t catch his eyes sweeping over your legs, wanting to commit you in this dress to memory.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you roll your eyes as if you hadn’t spent the last two hours making sure you looked as perfect as possible. Hoping he doesn’t see the pile of clothes shoved into your closet from all the failed attempts.

“Never,” he grabs your purse off of the counter and opens the door, sweeping his arm out in front of him dramatically “after you. There are some strangers outside who are waiting to catch a glimpse of you, they just don’t know it yet.”

“You are so dramatic.” You lock the door behind you, using the moment facing away from him to collect yourself. Lately you catch yourself wondering if he'd always been so flirtatious, or if you're just forcing meaning behind his words because of how badly you want him to be.

“What, a guy can’t compliment his best friend?”

You smile widely at him and grab your bag out of his grasp, popping your key inside and walking toward the entrance of your building. Praying your fingers stop shaking when you finally get a drink in you. Haechan throws his arm around your shoulders while you walk down the street to your favorite cocktail bar and you're grateful for his usual chatter, talking to you about work and his slow climb up the ladder.

“They put me in a hotel this time, so you don’t have to worry about making me breakfast in the morning.” He smiles at you, sipping his drink gingerly.

“You know I never cook you breakfast.” He feels so far away across the table and you wish that you were sitting next to him instead, shoulders cold without the weight of his arm around them. It feels so good to have him touch you, to feel like you're his. There's a small part of you that feels guilty for using his knack for physical affection to your advantage, he has no idea what the heat of his skin on yours does.

“I know, but all the meetings are in the hotel anyway so it’s easier this time to just stay there.”

You try not to let yourself visibly deflate at the news, wanting to keep him for yourself the whole time he’s in town. His knee presses against yours under the table and you focus all your energy into acting the way you would have before, but you can’t focus on anything else and cross your legs to pull away from him as casually as possible. As badly as you want to touch him, sometimes you can’t.

“What time do you have to be up?”

He groans, leaning back enough that his knee now slides against your shin, “too early,” and glances down at his now empty glass, motioning to the bartender for another “which means you need to drink faster, so I can stop at a reasonable hour.”

You smile, downing the rest of your drink in one gulp, when his foot taps against yours you know it's going to be a long night.

The end of the night finds you together on your couch with a shared bottle of wine sitting empty on the coffee table, his early meetings temporarily forgotten. You and Haechan have been in this position plenty of times, drunk, slap happy and overly touchy in a way that you had always been comfortable being with one another. The difference now is you, this version of you who wants your best friend in an entirely different way.

Every time he pulls you closer you feel electricity shoot straight to your heart so intensely that you have to duck out of his grasp. You don’t know what to do with the feelings that have been growing gradually from your toes up, now practically sprouting out of your scalp with a neon sign blinking “I’m in love with you” over and over.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Haechan whines when you all but flinch away from his hand reaching for his phone near your arm. He’d been aware of it all night, the space you left between the two of you while you walked back from the bar, your sudden inability to maintain the eye contact that he craved. The complete lack of physical touch makes him feel dejected.

“Doing what?” You give him a panicked look, practically sober at the thought of being found out, of what it would feel like to be rejected by him.

“You’re not letting me touch you,” he frowns, and the alcohol buzzes through your veins again “not that you need to let me, but you only avoid it like this when you’re upset. Did I do something?” he pouts, tired eyes low when he flops his head onto his bicep resting on the back of the couch. You forget to breathe for a second when he looks up at you under dark lashes.

“I’m not upset. I wasn’t doing it on purpose.” you’re lying through your teeth, but scoot an inch closer to him to make your point. He doesn’t look convinced, and if you’d had less to drink you may have noticed the mischievous glint in his eye before he grabs you by your arm, knocking you off balance and into his chest.

“See,” he sighs happily, wrapping his arms around your body and you can feel his chest buzz when he hums, cheek pressed to the top of your head. You have no choice but to ungracefully shift your lower body closer to him, making yourself a sponge and soaking in his familiar touch “isn’t that better?”

You nod, “Yes, it is better.” and you really wish he didn’t know you so well, that even in his fifth hour of being drunk he can read your mind. He pulls your ear off his heart to grab your cheeks, smushing them together and whispering your name with a shake of his head.

“What is it?” he urges, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist to loosen his grip. You shut your eyes, take a deep breath and count to three in your head before you can talk yourself out of leaning forward and pressing your lips to his.

You feel him falter for a half second before he’s kissing you back, pulling your face closer and pushing his body toward yours. You can’t hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears when his tongue touches yours, and then suddenly his mouth is gone. He moves so quick you have to put your arms out to stop yourself from face planting into the cushion he had just been sitting on.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” you gasp “i shouldn’t have done that, Haechan, I’m so sorry.”

It takes everything in you to look up to where he’s now standing with his arms crossed over his chest protectively. You have no idea what he’s thinking, staring down at you with wide eyes. Insecurity sweeps through you under his intense gaze, and you almost beg him to say something.

“I’m seeing someone,” the way the confession rings in your ears would have you believing that he screamed the words, but his voice was barely above a whisper “shit, I’m sorry.”

You aren’t sure if it’s your life that flashes before your eyes, or your years of friendship with him, at this point the two tend to blur together.

“That’s-” you sit back on your calves and inhale shakily, knowing it’s not even worth it to attempt to fake any sort of excitement for him “why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugs, swallowing thickly and pulling his eyes away from your face to stare at the ceiling “It’s new and I didn’t know how. It just never came up.”

“Well then, I’m sorry that it didn’t. I shouldn’t have done that, I don’t know what came over me.” grateful that he’s finally the one avoiding eye contact with you so he doesn’t see your legs wobble when you stand “probably best to pretend that never happened. I’m just drunk and I missed you-”

Your name sounds so pathetic when he says it this time and you think it’s the eighth wonder of the natural world that you haven’t started crying yet. You shake your head instead, wishing so desperately that you had changed out of the dress you were wearing as you pull the slinky material down your thighs.

“Honestly, Haechan,” You regret your next words before they even hit the air “you should probably go. You have an early morning.”

The shock on his face pains you, but you can’t stand to see what you can only assume is pity growing in his eyes for another second.

“I don’t want to go, I want to talk about this.”

“I’m sorry.” you say again and his shoulders slump in defeat, recognizing that you’d made up your mind.

“It’s okay.” He means it, shuffling forward and the look on your face is nearly enough to bring him to his knees. His breath catches when you shift away the inch he moved toward you, eyes locked on his and he can see the desperation in them before he hears it in your voice.

“Text me when you get to the hotel?” your voice cracks with a heavy mix of exhaustion and embarrassment that makes him nods once, grabbing his things and walking slowly toward your door. He turns to look at you, but his words catch in his throat when he sees your eyes begin to water, mustering up all his energy to offer what he prays is a reassuring smile before letting himself out.

You sink back into the couch when the door clicks shut, head hanging in your hands as the tears finally start to flow. You cry so hard you feel like you could throw up, replaying his rejection over and over in your mind, shame and regret coursing through your veins. Pure embarrassment heats your body at the look on his face when he told you he was seeing someone, and you’re not sure if it was disgust or pity in his eyes.

On top of the rejection, knowing that he didn’t feel like he could share something as big as meeting someone with you was a dagger to the heart, up until recently you had never kept a secret from him, and even this one you clearly couldn’t keep in for long.

You force yourself into the shower, scrubbing angrily at your skin under the scalding water. You get out once your fingers have pruned and your skin feels raw, avoiding the mirror on your way to your bedroom. You kick angrily at the dress you'd left on the floor, watching it land near the pile of outfits you had discarded while getting ready.

Haechan had texted you nearly thirty minutes earlier

“made it back”

you give it a thumbs up before turning your phone off, setting an alarm with the clock on your side table and letting the emotional exhaustion lull you to sleep.

------

Haechan is realizing that there is no way in hell that you need space more than he needs to talk to you. He tries to call you multiple times the first week after you kissed him but you never answered, and Haechan doesn’t want to push you to the point of no return. What he really wants is to go back in time and not leave you that night, but the pain in your eyes was so pronounced he couldn't bare to make it any worse. The only physical proof that you had kissed him at all being the stupid blue thumbs up on the text he had sent you that night. It's followed by a slew of reassuring texts, saying that he broke up with his girlfriend and if you would please just talk to him, that he's not mad.

This is the feeling he carries with him nearly two weeks later on the flight to you, when he’s sure that another minute of silence from you will kill him. By the time he gets to your apartment it’s almost midnight, so he knocks loud enough to wake you up.

When you open the door in a shirt he thinks might be his, Haechan knows he has no choice. He's speaking before you can say anything, before he can change his mind.

"I came here to tell you that I think you're being really stupid." He curses internally for the obvious nerves in his voice, your tired eyes widen with shock at his words.

"Excuse me?"

"Years ago you made me swear that I would tell you if you ever came up with a reason not to be my friend anymore. So I'm telling you now, I think you're being really fucking stupid."

"I'm not doing that" You defend yourself, tearing up at the sight of him. He pushes into your apartment, shutting the door behind him and standing close enough to touch. He’s staring you down with pleading eyes, and you bury your face in your hands so you don’t have to look at him.

“Then why are you ignoring me? Why won’t you let me fix this?”

“I don’t know I just,” you inhale shakily “I don't know how to do it right now, not like this."

"Like what?" He hopes he already knows the answer, but needs to hear you say it, to know that you’re as serious as he is. Your mouth feels full of cotton when he forces you to look at him by whispering your name, pulling your hands from your face and his heart pinches tightly at the tears welling in your eyes "please tell me, please. Like what?"

"You already know," your bottom lip betrays you, voice weak beneath heavy emotion when you speak "I love you, Haechan. I'm in love with you, and I don't know what to do about it. I feel like I fucked everything up, but I can’t undo it."

He feels his lungs fill with relief. Haechan steps forward to close the small gap between your bodies, grabbing your jaw to rest his forehead against yours. You falter, but his hand on the small of your back keeps you from going anywhere, he's practically panting and you can barely stand, dizzy with the feeling of him. You want to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not dreaming when he whispers "You didn't fuck anything up."

He ghosts his lips over yours for a moment until he's sure you're not going to stop him. When he finally kisses you it's with years of pent up adoration, directing your arms around his neck and pressing his thumb firmly into your jaw, long fingers wrapping around the side of your throat. He practically whines when your fingers tighten in his hair and your lips part for his warm tongue. His arm wraps around your waist so tightly you have to hinge backward to keep your mouths connected, gasping at the strength you didn't know he had.

He keeps your stomach flush to his own and kisses you until you're practically limp in his arms, pulling away to breathe. His eyes are shut as he rubs his nose over yours

"I love you, too. I've been meaning to tell you for a while." All the blood rushes into your ears at his words and you can't stop your biggest worry from spilling into the air.

“What if you change your mind?”

“I made up my mind a long time ago, there's nothing you could do to change it." He blinks his eyes open, pulling his face away from yours just enough to see you, the trepidation in your eyes makes him say your name quietly.

"It's only me, you know me," he assures you in a hushed tone "you have to know by now that you are my entire world."

You could laugh, only him, as if he hasn’t been one of the most important people in your life since the day you met. As if he isn’t someone who has seen you at every stage of it so far. It’s Haechan, who has always been funny, who has witnessed the worst sides of you and never made you feel bad, who has never left your side.

You kiss him again, fingers wrapping in tight fists around his shirt to keep yourself grounded. Haechan’s heart pounds happily in his chest and he hopes you can feel it this time, both hands nestling into your hair. He kisses you gently in an effort to slow down your urgent movements, moaning at the taste of your mouth. You fall into his rhythm easily, the way his tongue rolls gently over yours makes your body go up in flames. You move your hands to slide beneath his shirt, landing on the strong muscles in his back and teasing your fingers up his sides.

When you finally come up for air he stares at you for a minute before laughing, stomach tightening beneath your fingers when he does.

"What's funny?" you shut your eyes, leaning your forehead into his chest, letting the pretty sound ring in your ears.

"Nothing, I'm just-" he cuts himself off with a shrug, nuzzling his nose into the crown of your head "I love you, and you love me back. That's all, that's how easy it is."

"It hasn't been easy at all, in fact my life has been very very hard since your birthday last year.” He pulls away from your head to ogle at you.

"My birthday last year?" You nod, feeling your cheeks flush under his intense gaze, it had really been that long "God, I'm sorry I'm such a fucking idiot."

He's kissing you again before you can ask him to elaborate, grabbing hold of both wrists in one hand while he walks you backward and guides you up onto the counter as slowly as he has to in order to keep his lips on yours. His hips are the perfect height for you to wrap your legs around, gasping in surprise when he slides his hands around your ass and presses your core tightly against the growing bulge in his jeans.

You feel shy when you pull away to ask if he wants to go to your bedroom, feeling frozen in place when he stares at you with half lidded eyes, his plump lips swollen and red.

"Tonight, I'm just kissing you." Every cell in his body is screaming in protest at his own words. He can't express how badly he wants to do everything else, to recreate his dreams, to learn the parts of your body he'd never seen before. But he can't imagine doing anything but this tonight, just this; his lips on yours, your breath in his lungs and your body melting into his.

"Why?” your eyebrows pull together in confusion. You practically shiver with need, tucking your arms between your stomachs and burying your nose in his throat. His laugh buzzes against your face, rubbing his hands gently over your shoulders and trying to control his own breathing as your lips brush over his skin.

All he can say is, “Because I’ve been needing to for a long time.”

“How long?” You pull away from his chest, leaning back onto your hands and closing your eyes when he runs his own down your sternum and over your waist, groping at the flesh of your hips and trying not to regret his romantic side.

“Way too long.”

“Your birthday?” you ask, tugging gently at his shirt. He plants his hands outside of your legs to lean in close, one corner of his mouth pulling up.

“Much longer.” Your eyes widen in shock, and he interrupts you before you can question him “can we talk about it later? I have something really important to do tonight.”

———

He tells you that he's had feelings for you since senior year of college, when you kissed Jeno. He tells you about his plan to admit everything when he had seen you on his birthday, but that he was too scared. He assures you he ended his relationship the moment he got back home the previous week “because everyone has felt like a matter of 'when' it will end, not 'if',” He tells you that just two weeks of your silence hurt worse than any previous heartbreak, and you agree. And before you fell asleep next to him he tells you again, ‘I'm so in love with you.’ and shimmies excitedly when you say it back before kissing you until you can barely keep your eyes open. He holds your cheeks in his hands and practically lulls you to sleep with his tongue, plush lips pressing to yours so gently you can hardly feel them dotting around the rest of your face. He thinks he could do this forever before sleep finally catches up with him, his arm slung over your side to hold your face to his chest.

You wake up curled into a familiar side, your first emotion being giddy as the night floods back to you. Despite your obvious willingness to go further, Haechan had meant it when he said he'd only be kissing you. It made you crazy at first, but when the two of you were staring at each other in the mirror with shy eyes while moving through a nighttime routine you had gotten familiar with years before, you were happy he had the self control you clearly lack. The idea of him actually seeing and touching you in ways he never had before, of doing all the things you'd found yourself imagining him doing over the last year; it was overwhelming. Kissing until your jaw was sore and your lips were swollen felt easy.

You’re startled by Haechan’s hand reaching for yours, holding your palm and bringing your fingers to his lips to press a kiss to each one, “good morning.” his voice is deep and tired, mouth landing on the crown of your head.

"Good morning." You press your nose into his chest happily, gripping his hand in yours and resisting the urge to squeal with delight.

"What are you so excited about, me?" He teases, hand falling on your thigh to guide your leg up the front of his, stopping just below his crotch and you hope he's going to give you what you'd been wanting all night, for the last year.

"You, I just can't believe how happy I am." You admit, lifting your head off of his chest to smile at him. He pulls you right back down, kissing your lips once before rolling you both over so he's on top of you. He presses a hand over your collarbone and drags his lips down your chin and over your throat.

"You know, this means you're all mine now." he smirks against your neck when you nod, gasping when he sucks gently at the base. He has one forearm on the mattress, the other hand too gentle on your ribs. You can feel that he's hard and you immediately roll your hips up.

"Does this mean you're gonna do more than just kiss me now?" you intend to sound confident, but it comes out as a whimper. His nose brushes over your jaw before he presses lingering kisses to your chin and cheek.

"Yes, baby, if you'll let me." You nod eagerly, shifting your face so your lips are beneath his and sighing happily when he lowers his weight onto your torso, licking into your mouth. You shiver with anticipation when he pushes at your shirt, long fingers tickling up your side before landing on your breast. You gasp into his mouth when his thumb brushes over your already hard nipple.

Your impatience is overwhelming, grabbing the back of his shirt and tugging it up to his shoulders. He pulls away reluctantly, reaching one hand toward his back and pulling his shirt over his head. You gnaw at your lip, running your hands over his stomach and hooking your knees around his hips as much as you can while stretching your arms over your head.

“Cute.” he murmurs, pulling your shirt up and tossing it to the side. He gropes at your chest, tongue wetting his lips before he leans down to wrap them around one of your nipples. He’s trying to act without thinking, to let the dreams he’s had pave the path down your body because he knows the second he acknowledges his nerves he won’t be able to shake them off. His heart thrums when you gasp above him, arching your chest into his mouth. He’s greedy for your sounds, his hands squeezing your breasts together and licking between them to get to the other nipple. When your hips buck up into his he groans, pulling away from your chest and staring down at you with wondering eyes.

“Can I?” He feels unnaturally shy, leaning back on his calves and watching his fingers press dimples into the flesh of your hips above your underwear, tugging at the hem.

“You don’t need to ask.” He smiles, forcing you to sit by grabbing the back of your neck for a kiss. His fingers press into your clothed core and your hips roll into his hand. He sighs into your mouth at your desperation, torn between teasing you and touching you everywhere.

You can’t keep your legs from shutting around his arm when he pushes your panties to the side and slides his middle and ring finger up your wet center, circling over your clit.

You pull away from the kiss, blinking up at him and your mouth falls open when he presses firmly on your clit, rubbing in slow circles. His head hangs as he lets out a quiet “fuck” at your reaction, moving his hand off your neck to stroke over your stomach and without it behind your head you have to lie back, he presses your legs open. Haechan stares at your chest while he settles between your knees, pushing two fingers inside your dripping core. His jaw hangs open, watching his knuckles disappear inside of you.

“So soft,” he breathes, staring down to where his fingers glisten when he pulls them out to rub over your clit again, palming over his cock getting harder in his sweats “want to be everywhere at once.”

“Want you everywhere.” you whine when his fingers pull away to hook into your underwear, tugging them down your legs. Haechan stands to strip and you hold your breath and soak in the soft swell of his hip that leads to where his cock hangs heavy between his legs. It’s pretty like the rest of him, and thicker than you'd expected with a leaking tip that matches the color of his tongue, he strokes himself once and you don’t get the chance to reach for him before he lays back on the bed, rolling you to sit on top of him. You shudder when your pulsing clit rubs over his stomach, inner thigh squeezing into his ribs. He runs his hands up your waist, scooting you an inch higher and grabbing onto your tits.

“Do you remember a few months ago, when you called me drunk and I told you I was dreaming about hanging out with you?” He shivers when you grind down in response, wet pussy sliding easily over his skin “I lied.”

Your hands press into his chest, tilting your head “what were we doing?” you can barely speak above a whisper when he pinches gently at your nipple with one hand, the other rubbing over your ribs when he smirks up at you.

“You were about a foot higher than you are right now,” you gasp and reach out to grab the headboard when he jolts his hips to move you up his chest, staring down at him with wide eyes as he shifts to wrap his arms under your legs, fingers pressing into your thighs.

“You dreamt about this?” you let him bring your hips to hover over his face, hands falling into his hair when he brushes his nose over your clit as he nods.

“All the time,” he moans and drags you down onto his face, lips wrapping around your clit. You shudder above him, letting some of your weight collapse into your heels and he groans happily at the pressure of you on his chin, pressing you harder onto his mouth to fuck his tongue into you. He wants to devour you, every sound you make goes straight to his cock which is already rock hard at the taste and smell of you. Even just thinking about the fact that it's your hips grinding over his face right now is enough to make him moan into your pussy.

You slur out praise, one of your hands shooting up to grip the headboard. His hands wander gently up your sides, eyes opening to stare up to where he plays with your tits, hard cock pulsing at the sight of your head thrown back, hips moving in gentle circles over his face. Haechan’s hand tugs yours down to his hair, trying to restrain himself from thrusting into the empty air at the feeling of you all over him. He hums happily into your pussy when you start to grind over his mouth, flattening his tongue for you to ride until your legs are shaking.

He lets out a deep “mmhmm” when you warn him that you’re going to cum, suckling hard on your clit until you’re practically begging him to let you go, body crumpling forward with both hands tangled in his hair. He's grateful you didn't touch his cock, just the thought of your fingers wrapped around him is enough to make him cum and he has other plans.

You can’t speak when you collapse onto the mattress beside him, immediately warmed by the weight of his body on top of yours as he slots himself between your thighs, sucking a hickey onto the front of your throat.

“Taste too fucking good,” he hums, mouthing over your chin and cheek “been dreaming of eating your sweet pussy for so long.” you practically swoon when he kisses you, pre-cum wetting the inside of your thigh when he relaxes his stomach onto yours.

“Hyuck, want you in me, please” Your vision is blurry, whining into his swollen lips. He works them over your cheek before pulling away from you, bringing one of your legs up to his shoulder and you rest the other knee on his hip. He can feel himself pant when he taps the head of his cock on your swollen clit, practically drooling when he sticks barely the tip inside before pulling back and repeating the tantalizing motion.

“Been waiting for too long to be teased,” you pout, trying to encourage his hips toward yours with the ankle he’s not pressing his cheek into. He smirks and circles his leaking tip over you again, watching his cock spread your arousal around before he pushes into you a little further.

“I’m taking my time with you, feels so fucking good.” He can’t look away from between your thighs, messy hair hanging over his forehead while his fingers grip your ankle tightly. You whimper when he pulls all the way out again, one more hard tap against your pulsing clit before he pushes himself halfway into your leaking pussy. You rise onto your elbows, trying to reach one hand to grab for his hip but he releases the base of his cock to stop you by lacing your fingers together. When Haechan finally looks into your eyes he bottoms out, stretching your leg toward your chest so he can lean in. His hips stutter, a choked groan rumbling deep in his chest.

“Oh my god, Hyuck please.” you beg him to move with a gasp. His forehead presses to your chin, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Fuck, baby, been needing you," he thrusts into you slowly, lifting his head to look down at you glowing beneath him with your eyes shut. He pulls out all the way before thrusting back inside, quickening his hips when your eyes flutter open, the look on your face enough to make his balls tighten slightly, shutting his eyes to regain self control "knew you'd feel so fucking good."

"M’so full, Haechan." you moan at his words and the rapid slap of his hips on the back of your thighs, forcing your eyes to stay open so you can see his face. The way his nose scrunches with focus when he pulls away from your chest, both his hands wrapping firmly around your hips while he watches his cock sink into you. Brown, shaggy hair sticks to his damp forehead, full lower lip taken between his teeth. He’s pure, unadulterated boyish beauty, and he’s all yours.

You squeak when he lets your leg drop off his shoulder, pressing your thigh as far open as it will go with your heel digging into his backside. He fans his fingers over your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to push your clit side to side and your hips tuck up for more pressure, Haechan moans loudly when the movement causes you to clamp around his cock, "Perfect fucking pussy, can't believe it's mine now. Like my fingers on your pretty clit?”

You nod enthusiastically, letting go of your breasts to hold the backs of your thighs, Haechan's eyes move up your body to stare at your chest move beneath him, nipples looking sweet as candy. He’s dying to sink his fingers into the softest part of your stomach, the way you’re moving for him makes his mind turn to sand. You stare down to where his thumb is making circles over your clit, perfectly timed with the head of his cock bruising your g-spot. You feel a second orgasm build and the corner of his mouth pulls up proudly when your legs shake. Your head hangs back as you gasp for air, "yes, please, Haechan feels so fucking good."

"Make the prettiest noises for me, want you cumming all over my cock." he leans forward just enough to trap your throat beneath the weight of his palms, other hand still moving over your swollen clit. You smile at the pressure of his body on yours, eyes fluttering shut while you moan. You nod desperately when he asks if you can do that, "if you can let me make you feel that good, please, my pretty girl."

He takes his hand off your throat when you cum, wanting to hear every sound you could possibly make. You repeat his name like a blessing that has him cumming with you, moaning and breathless as his hips start to slow, milking you both through your orgasms.

You wrap your arms around him when he pulls out of you, reveling in the feeling of him when he lowers himself down, burrowing his face into your neck and warming your skin with his breath. You hold him there for a minute until he pulls his head up, dopey smile lighting up his eyes and making you laugh.

“What?” you scrunch your nose at him “better than your dreams?”

He nods, “so much better, best I ever had, my body belongs to you now.” he smirks at his own words, but his tone is so gentle he can’t even call it a joke.

“Just your body?” you tease, and he leans his nose onto your lips for a kiss that you carry onto the mole under his eye.

“Body, mind, heart, soul,” he sighs happily when you cup his cheeks in your hands, kissing him gently “all the planets in my head.”

"All the planets in my head too."

————

masterlist

authors note // this ended up being much longer than i anticipated, maybe the longest one shot i’ve ever actually written! i appreciate everyone who voted for happy ending because when i was originally thinking of a sad ending it was too hard lol. this feels forever unfinished because there is so much good to this version of haechan, i adore him.

#haechan #haechan fanfiction #haechan smut #nct #nct dream #nct 127 #nct dream fanfiction #nct dream smut #nct 127 fanfiction #nct 127 smut #nct fanfiction #nct smut

[multifandomgirl08]

A Lioness Protects Her Cub [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: Reporters are vultures and Max picks out a ring.

Warning(s): Mention of Jos Verstappen (in passing), Mixed formatting (Story + Article + Social Media)

A/N: Credit for this idea goes to @yeea-nah. It was a awesome prompt, and I ran with it as much as I could given the outline that I already had for this series. Switched up the order of what you gave me, I hope it's what you were thinking when you send in that comment. This really felt like it wrote itself.

Words: 2.1k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

After you and Max had made to choice to let people know about Nico there was a bit of backlash. It was always the media, the fans weren't so bad.

There were questions thrown at Max about, if now that he was a parent would it stop him from racing? Would it make him less competitive now that he had someone else to think about?

"Why should it? I won my first championship when my son was a year old. I'm not going to stop doing something that both my son and I cherish."

There had been backlash to that comment, mostly something about Max's father who you never met. Max and his dad had a big falling out after Nico had come into Max's life. Max had found out that Jos had tried to pay his ex-girlfriend off so that Max would never find out about Nico. They hadn't talked since.

You had tried to talk to Max about it but it just made him upset, so you only tried to bring it up once.

It had taken you a while to get more accustomed to going to races. It was strange to have people watching you, from what you were wearing to how you interacted with the other WAGs on the grid.

You never thought you would have to deal with reporters.

You had come to learn that reporters would do anything for a story, even if it meant causing conflicts themselves.

You hadn't heard what was said before just the tail end of it, "Think about it this way, if they ever let Nico Verstappen compete at a competitive level then what is going to happen to this sport? More of the same shit. Do you see the example that Verstappen is setting for his child?"

You didn't know what the reporter was talking about specifically, you didn't want to presume the worst. However, you still felt like you needed to say something about this. She had no right to talk about Nico that way, let alone Max. She didn't know what he was like as a parent or how he was raising Nico.

"Excuse me, I don't appreciate you talking about my son that way, let alone his father." You interjected to the reporter.

You knew that you probably shouldn't have said anything but you couldn't help yourself. This person didn't know Max, they didn't see the way that Max was concerned about Nico when he got sick or how Max lit up when Nico would talk about what he did while he was at daycare. They didn't have a right to make assumptions about their relationship as father and son.

"You have no idea how my boyfriend is raising our son. For someone who works in the world of sports, it is not your place to comment on how he parents. It is disgusting, not only that you would say such a thing, but that you are also talking about a child." You hoped your words would bite at her and make her think about what she had just said.

The reporter looked shocked, face slack and eyes wide. Like she couldn't believe that you would stand up for your boyfriend and son.

"I'm assuming that you just misspoke. If that's the case I would like an apology for what you've said about my son." You could tell there were cameras around you now, you could feel them.

"I'm not going to apologize. Your boyfriend is a dirty driver, who can't control himself, and I'm sure that once "your" son is out of karting, he is going to be just the same." She made air quotes at the word your. Like Nico wasn't your child, as if you weren't helping raise him, take him to school, and tuck him into bed when Max wasn't home.

The reporter was out of line for saying that.

You wanted to say something else but felt a grip on your arm and turned around to see Steve standing there. If Christian sent over Steve who was the head of social media. Then this would turn into a problem rather fast. You followed Steve away from the group before your eyes met those of Lewis Hamilton's.

He gave you a slight nod as if to say, good for you, standing up for yourself and Nico.

You knew that Max and Lewis didn't get along but you had talked to the Mercedes driver a few times and you got along rather well, even if it was only in passing.

Two Days Later - Tuesday

Max Verstappen's girlfriend gets into a verbal altercation with a reporter over comments about son Nico Verstappen

Laurence Andrews, F1 Editor May 7, 2024, 6:28 ET

Two days ago on Sunday after the end of the Miami Grand Prix, a reporter from The Sun was seen being yelled at by Max Verstappen's longtime girlfriend Y/N L/N. The reporter made comments about the example that Verstappen was setting for his child. L/N alleging that the reporter's comments were "...disgusting..."

The Dutch driver's girlfriend immediately after requested an apology from the reporter about comments made about Verstappen's parenting, and the way that they were raising their child saying that it wasn't any of the reporters business.

The reporter refused to apologise to Verstappen's girlfriend about the comments made and then proceeded to further comment about how Verstappen is a dirty driver. Then said once their child was out of karting would be just the same as his father.

Verstappen's girlfriend was visibly angry but didn't get a chance to comment further before the head of Red Bull Racing's PR team; Steve Garland came out to take L/N away from the reporter.

Full footage of the altercation can be found on YouTube.

(You can also read the full story at espn.com/f1/red-bull/......./)

Thursday - Emilia Romagna

"I have a question for Max." He heard.

Max was used to the media the day before race weekend started, it was mostly the same questions about the car and new upgrades that had been made.

He moved to pick up his mic from where it laid on the couch.

"I was just wondering how you feel about what happened in Miami with your girlfriend and the reporter two weekends ago?" He heard. He raised his eyebrows at the question.

He tried to conceal how he was really feeling. It was something he was not expecting to be asked. It wasn’t an approved question, that he was sure of.

"Well, I guess all I can really say is that I think that my girlfriend acted to protect our son. The reporter did end up apologizing for what she said even if Red Bull PR did have to step in. As a couple, we are very private in how we raise him. I didn't tell quite a few people that I had a son because of things like two weekends ago. I wanted to prevent the media from talking about him as much as possible. Obviously, that didn't happen..." He said honestly. They didn’t need to know how happy it made him to see that Y/N was protecting Nico from the media.

He and Y/N hadn't talked about what had happened with the reporter. He, more than anyone understood reacting when it came to people in the media. It was just a part of the sport. There wasn't anything that could be done, aside from asking for an apology or in the case of Miami, some form of a retraction to the statements that were made against him.

"Does that affect how you raise him? When things happen on the track during a race?" He got as a follow-up.

"No, it doesn't. My life with my family is completely different from when I'm in the car. I don't let those two worlds... collide. When I'm here, I'm focused on being in the car and what I need to do for the race. When I'm at home with them, I'm just with my family. So... No, it doesn’t affect how he's raised." He felt like that should keep quite a few more of those types of questions at bay from being asked.

"Thank you, Max."

"Yup." He said with a tight smile and a small nod.

One Weeks Later - Monaco

“No, it needs to be bigger.” He said as he stood in front of the display with the rings. They all looked too small.

“Mate, it’s a ring, not a paperweight.” Daniel said.

“I know.” He couldn't help but shift scratching at the back of his neck.

"I thought you were going to wait until the season was over to get Y/N a ring?" The Monégasque driver said.

"I was but then I realized that I didn't want to wait until then." He kept looking into all the display cases. He didn't like anything that he was seeing.

"Is it about what that reporter said to Y/N? Because if it is, she handled it like a pro." Charles looked confused glancing at Daniel unaware of what had happened in Miami.

“Maybe,” he said coyly. It wasn’t the only reason, but it was one of them.

Most of the drivers in the paddock had seen the clip of Y/N verbally chewing the reporter out. It was caught on camera and ended up on Instagram and TikTok within the next few days.

"She publically requested an apology with cameras present and the reporter wouldn't give her one until Red Bull PR stepped in," Daniel explained as they walked around the store. "You've got a good one on your hands."

Max couldn't help but smile at the memory of hearing Y/N calling Nico her son.

“Look at him, glowing with pride for his woman.” Daniel teased.

Max couldn't help it, knowing that Y/N saw Nico as her son, it solidified finally going and picking out a ring for her. Waiting until there was a break in the schedule to go and pick out a ring made him anxious. He didn’t know what type of ring Y/N would want, but he knew it had to be the best. She deserved nothing but that.

He had asked that Daniel and Charles come with him to Harry Winston to help him pick out a ring. He didn’t know what he was doing, but maybe they could help him figure it out.

“Can I help you three gentlemen?” The man behind the counter asked. He was in glasses and a pressed suit.

“Yes, our mate here is looking for a ring.” Charles gave Max a slight shove toward the counter. Max managed to keep his footing against the marble flooring.

The guy behind the counter eyed Max up and down for a second.

“Do you have an idea of what you are looking for, a carat size in mind?” A what size in mind? Carrot? Was he talking about how big the diamond was?

“No, but all of the ones you have on display look too small.” At the word small it made the eyes of the man behind the counter go wide. As if dealing with the three younger men had just made his day.

From there Max sat down with the sales manager of the store and got a custom ring made for Y/N. It was a platinum fully paved tripled shank band design with a 6-carat cushion-cut diamond and diamond halo in the center. At least that was what the man told him from what he had chosen.

Daniel had looked proud while Charles looked shocked at how much time it took to design a ring. Maybe he should have asked Lewis to come with him even if they didn’t get along. Lewis did wear quite a bit of jewelry and it was normally covered in diamonds. Oh well, he would get to see a picture of what it would look like before he had to pick it up.

They would call him when it was ready and he would be able to pick it up, he didn’t want it to get shipped to his apartment in case he was away after it was ready.

ynlnusername

Liked by danielricciardo, yourbestfriend, and 257,533 others

tagged: maxverstappen1

ynlnusername My Lion 🦁. Loving, protective, and courageous. Always.

maxverstappen1 mijn leeuwin

fan1 I am here for Y/N thursting for her man

fan2 The dad Max content is always appreciated!

fan3 Umm.. Pet names! HELLO!!

fan5 Max didn't want to mention his pet name for Y/N in his last interview. Now he decides to drop it on us!

fan4 Lipstick on his shoulder! Imagine if he got that tattooed!

Translation:

mijn leeuwin - my lioness

taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence

#Mini Verstappen Series #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 imagine

[ur-local-anti-hero]

Speak now

James Potter x Malfoy!Reader

Summary: If the marauders are against something, its agaisnt pureblood families ideologies. Sometimes that implies to wreak havoc on a white veil occasion.

Genre: Hurt/comfort, Fluff and a tiny bit of Angst. Arranged Marriage

CW: Forced Marriage, Familiar problems, talks about blood purity and blood traitors. Breaking into a weddig idk.

Word count: 2.2K

This is part of my Speak Now (Marauders’ version) collection 

“So don't say yes, run away now. I'll meet you when you're out of the church at the back door.

Don't wait, or say a single vow. You need to hear me out”

When you were younger you saw a fair amount of weddings. They were always presented to you as big emotional events in which two people promised eternal love to each other. 

Even when you didn't know anything about love as a kid, it was no wonder that you yearned to have your own wedding once you grew up. It was a dream to have your own white dress, a beautifully decorated venue and a partner you loved so deeply you’d be willing to spend your whole life with them. 

Looking back maybe you should’ve known better. The first sign should’ve been your surname. A Malfoy has expectations they have to meet, keeping the bloodline pure, for starters. 

The second one should’ve been your parents’ loveless marriage, when you were younger you used to wonder why they’d married at all, now it was quite obvious. 

The third and most evident should’ve been when Andromeda Black was disowned. At that time you didn’t truly understand what that entailed, and why it was such a hassle that she wanted to get married. Now you understood that the problem was not the wedding, if not the groom. 

All your fantasies about the commonly named ‘Big day’ were completely shattered when your 18th birthday came, and with it a letter from your parents which contained the name of your soon to be husband. You tried to fight it, which only made your parents move the date of the wedding forward and get you out of Hogwarts, your education didn’t matter anymore to them now that your future as a housewife was inevitable. And being away from Hogwarts also meant being away from the ‘bad influences’ in your life. 

Now the corset of your white dress was suffocating, you felt trapped. Looking at the mirror was like looking at someone else. The girl with lifeless eyes and heavy make-up that couldn’t hide her eyebags was supposed to be you, yet it felt like a perfectly modelated version of yourself, made to impress the high class families attending the wedding. 

Narcissa’s gentle hands were bradding your hair, finishing your look before the wedding. Usually her presence was able to calm you down. Ever since she married your older brother, Lucius, her presence was regular in family gatherings and you’ve always felt some kind of kinship with her, seeking shelter on her whenever the phony and pompous encounters became too overwhelming.

You could attribute your shifted feelings towards her to the fact that she was unknowingly preparing you for eternal misery, or maybe because she was replacing the ones who you would’ve chosen as bridesmaids - there was no place for muggleborns in an event celebrating the union of two pureblood heirs -. Or even because it was her little cousin the one you were to wed. 

“You look beautiful” said Narcissa once she was done with your hair. 

You nodded and gave her a small thank you. However, you disagreed completely, the girl she was looking at was not you, it was your parent’s perfect daughter. 

“You do look lovely, father and mother are going to be delighted” your brother’s voice came from the door, where he was leaning on. “I brought you some company” he gestured behind him. 

Pandora and Dorcas stormed into the room, the former embracing you into a tight hug when they spotted you. Lucius and Narcissa left the room. 

“How are you holding up?” Pandora asked as soon as the door closed behind Lucius and Narcissa. Her arms were still holding you tightly, Dorcas standing behind her. 

You shrugged at her, not being able to talk due the knot in your throat and the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You kept your eyes glued to the mirror. 

Pandora stepped out of the hug and stood next to Dorcas, who had yet to speak. 

“Evan and Barty are with Regulus, I swear I never thought I would see him in a tux” said Dorcas, trying to make conversation. The thought of Regulus being in the same situation as you didn’t make you feel better, the knot in your throat was getting tighther by the second. You promised to yourself you wouldn’t cry anymore, to be honest you thought you had run out of tears days ago. 

“Sirius is here too” Pandora was trying to distract you from the wedding. If she was being honest with herself there was nothing they could do to make you feel better. But maybe knowing that your best friend was out there could help a little. 

That made you finally look away from the mirror, a small wave of hope cursing through you. If Sirius was here it meant that James could be too. In the eyes of your family his family’s name was not good enough for yours, but maybe it was enough for him to be a guest. 

Maybe it was selfish to wish for him to be there when you knew how much it would hurt him, but you needed to talk to him, he was the only one who could actually comfort you right now, the only presence that would make everything feel normal again. You yearned to feel his touch against your skin and his lips against yours, even if it was for one last time, as a farewell. 

“Is he… Is James here?” you spoke for the first time. 

The answer was clear in the pitiful look they gave you even before Pandora replied with a soft ‘no’. 

You don’t know what did it, if the look in the faces of your friends or the fact that you would never see James again, but tears started rolling down your face. In seconds you were being embraced by Pandora again, and Dorcas’ hand was wiping away your tears. 

“It’s okay, you are going to be okay” Pandora didn’t believe her own words, but there was little she could do to calm you down and you both knew it. 

There was a knock on the door and your dad’s voice came from the other side “Y/N, it’s time” 

Pandora gave you a squeeze before letting you go from the hug. They both left the room, not without giving you a forced smile. 

“Oh, merlin” you said to yourself as soon as you were left alone, going back to the mirror, you wiped the few tears that were left on your face, and tried to fix the smudged make-up around your eyes with your fingers. You didn’t want to give your parents the satisfaction of seeing how much this affected you. 

Once you looked mildly presentable again you exited the room. Your father was waiting for you and he offered you his arm to lead you towards the venue. 

You could see the whole venue from the end of the aisle. The green and black motives contrasted beatifully with the white flowers decorating the aisle and the top of the altar. The guests were placed in black chairs at both ends of the aisle. 

You weren’t brave enough to lift your glaze from the ground, knowning that you wouldn’t see the love of your life waiting for you as you had dreamt since you were a kid. The heavy veil of your dress made your steps slow and lethargic. 

It was not until you were halfway down the aisle that you gathered enough courage to finally look at the man in front of you. Instead of the boy with unruly curly brown hair and eyes filled with love, there standing was Regulus, his black hair slicked back and eyes drowned by the same defeated look you wore. 

Once you reached his side everything went in a blur, all you remember is him taking your hands into his and the officiant talking. 

“If anyone has any objection, speak now or forever hold your peace” 

You were really going insane because you swore you saw James standing at the end of the aisle, wearing a tuxedo and with his hand up in the air. 

“I oppose!” His voice was loud and clear, your eyes widened. 

All the guests' eyes went to his figure and several surprised gasps were heard. Maybe you were not hallucinating. 

───✥───

If Fleamont Potter ever found out how James was using his inherited cloak of invisivility he’d be horrified, or maybe oddly proud of his son. 

Not even James thought he would ever sneak into a highly patrolled wedding on a common Tuesday, but honestly if someone had told him a year ago he’d be doing this he wouldn’t be surprised. 

Sneaking in a wedding filled with pureblood families and slytherin students was the perfect setup for a Marauders prank. However, what would have surprised him would’ve been the reason for interrupting a white veil occasion. Dating a Malfoy was something he hadn’t expected to ever do, but you had gotten past all his defenses with your kind and bright personality that proved to be so different from your family’s pretentious ways. 

Therefore, he was now standing on the aisle you had walked minutes ago. He had a perfect view of you and Regulus from his stance, your white dress was gorgeous, and your hair was neatly done. If it weren’t for your puffy and bloodshot eyes, and the obvious defeated look in your face, a look that had no place in a wedding, he could almost believe this was a normal marriage ceremony. 

When you had received the letter from your parents you had been inconsolable, and rightfully so. James had tried everything to stop the wedding, he even went as far as asking your parents for their blessing and to be the one you'd wed instead of the Black heir. Turned out to be useless as his family had been marked as blood traitors for eternity. 

But James isn't known for giving up easily, and the Marauders were not going to let an opportunity to cause havoc pass by. 

With the promise of being on his best behavior, Sirius had convinced his parents to attend the wedding as a guest, acting as a mole for his friends' plans. Remus and Lily were outside the venue with their ride home -a couple of broomsticks they borrowed from Hogwarts' supply closet. 

And the last part of the plan, and its success rested on James' shoulders. 

The preacher spoke 'Speak now or forever hold your peace' James smirked, that was his cue. It was on. 

James took off his invisibility cloak and without a single trace of shame or shyness in his voice James stated loudly "I oppose!"

James would've loved to stop for a moment to memorize the looks of complete horror in the faces of the guests, but he had to be fast and make total use of the element of surprise. 

Without hesitation James sprinted towards the altar. He could see the way your brother had stood up and pointed his wand at him, his spell being intercepted by Sirius' expelliarmus spell. 

As soon as James made it to the altar chaos erupted from everyone in the venue, he could make out the shouts of your parents and some spells that were being intercepted by yours and James' friends. 

At the sight of James Regulus let your hands go, he raised his arms in defeat and left the altar without much hassle. 

"Gentleman" James greeted Regulus' groomsmen, Barty and Evan who were just as stunned as everyone, all they could do was nod in acknowledgement to James, not even trying to interfere. 

"Hi, love" he was finally looking at you, your eyes were wide with surprise and tears were gathered in your waterline. James took your hands in one of his and the other was raised to stroke your cheek. 

“James what- how-” you were completely astonished, and unable to formulate a single phrase. You knew your boyfriend loved you, and the lengths he would go to prove it, but you would have never guessed he’d be willing to break into your wedding ceremony. He was always proving you wrong. 

“Hey Peter, mate, it’s your moment to shine” Following james’ words a rat came out of his pants’ pocket. 

And suddenly Peter was standing in front of you. He pushed the appalled officiant slightly to the side and took his place. 

Peter cleared his throat before speaking “Do you, James Fleamont Potter, take Y/N Malfoy as your wife?” 

“I do” 

“Do you, Y/N Malfoy, take James Fleamont Potter as your husband?” 

You could hardly mutter a low “I do” before Peter spoke again 

“I declare you husband and wife. You might kiss the bride” 

James didn’t hesitate for a moment. To add dramatism he spun you around and dipped you, holding your weight with his arm. And without waiting for another second he kissed you, sweet and slow, conveying all his love for you with that gesture. 

When you became breathless you broke the kiss and looked at James straight into his beautiful eyes, which only show deep adoration. “I love you” you mouthed to him, which made his eyes sparkle with joy and a wide grin to break into face. 

He took you in his arms bridal style and walked down the aisle. You coudln’t even care about the chaos and spells that were aimed your way, all you could look at was James. 

And as he muttered “I love you too, Miss Potter” you knew he’d do anything to prove his love for you. 

Author's note: This one is of my faves of the collection ngl, James is my soft spot Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated. I'd love to hear what you thought about it so don't be shy!! To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Taglist @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsim @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 

#marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #marauders #marauders era #james potter #marauders fic #james potter x reader #james x reader #james x you #james x y/n #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter hurt/comfort #james potter fic #james potter x yn #james potter fanfic

[vex91]

Yu Jimin - Forced marriage

Pairing: Yu Jimin x Female Reader (CEO AU)

Fandom: Aespa

Requested by: Anonymous

Request: yn's father is in a debt so he gave his daughter to his boss's daughter for money like for marriage bc he is filthy rich so she hates her father. jimin and yn don't want each other, later jimin learns about this, she didn't know that her father did this and start to be kind to her. you can make yn play hard to get or not, whatever you want.

Summary: To pay off his debts, your father decides to make you marry one of the richest CEO's daughter and the fact that none of you wanted that marriage made you both hate each other.

A/N: KARINAAAAAAAA @1luvkarina something's for you😂 Thanks for requesting anon❤

3rd's POV

You hated Yu Jimin.

It wasn't anything personal with the woman, you hated her because of yours and hers parents who decided to control your life without any care about your own feelings.

You always loved your father, he never failed to make you feel loved and he supported you through everything you went through as a teenager but that was until you were 16. Your father borrowed some money from shady people and soon after he borrowed even more not realizing how badly it will end for him. The debt quickly became much too big for your family to pay off. Your parents were devastated, they tried to not talk about anything debt related around you and you thought it was because they didn't wanted to worry you but on your 18th birthday you found out the truth about why they whispered around the house whenever they talked about their debt.

The truth was your father found a solution to their problems. He contacted a very well-known CEO of a famous company in Seoul, Mr. Yu who was also your father's boss and after talking about different options they agreed on having you marry his daughter Jimin who was soon to inherit the company. When your father told you about it you were furious, you couldn't believe your own father could just sell you like this just to solve his own problems and your mother agreeing to that made you even more devastated. Their assurances of their love for you didn't do much for you, you could see that you didn't mean much to them since they were willing to just force you into something like that without any problems.

Your wedding was your nightmare. Jimin was nice and all but ever since you officially met you could feel how much she also hated the fact she had to marry someone she didn't wanted to marry. You both pretended to be happy and in love during your wedding but the moment you guys entered your shared house, you both completely ignored each other. There was no reason for you to argue when you could just pretend that nothing happened and live not getting into each other ways. That's how you spend the next few months as a married couple, you ignored each other most of the time and going on dates with other people, only acting as a couple in front of her parents whenever they visited.

One night Jimin came back from a tiring day at work to see you at your usual spot on the window. You made yourself a very comfortable space there with pillows and blankets so you often used it to rest or sleep if you didn't wanted to sleep with Jimin. Your wife observed you for a while as you read your book before moving to the kitchen to make herself something to eat "I made you dinner. It's in the fridge" Your voice cut through the silence but not for long as silence soon took over again. Jimin silently opened the fridge to see her favorite food prepared. As she warmed it up she continued staring at you "Do you need anything?" You asked looking at her having enough of her stares. Jimin hesitated, thinking if she should touch on the subject.

"Why did you marry me?" You looked up at her confused. You wondered what made her ask that since she never cared about it until now. You were silent trying to think of what to say until Jimin said something that made you furious "Did you pay my father to marry me? That's why he was so adamant in making me marry you?" You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Was she really accusing you of paying her father so you could marry her?

"Excuse me?" You stood up and went over to her "You heard me" You were shocked and angry, you hated how this whole situation made you feel so many things at once, especially the pain you felt when on your 18th birthday "You think I wanted that? Marrying you was the last thing I wanted actually but well I didn't had a choice since my father clearly already signed the agreement with your father before even telling me. Just for your knowledge not everybody is obsessed with you" Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down, Jimin on the other hand was stunned. She wasn't sure what to say, guilt eat her up as she realized that you just like her were basically sold by your father.

She tried to reach for you but you quickly stormed off to your bedroom leaving Jimin standing alone in the kitchen with all her swirling thoughts.

2 hours passed since then and you were still laying in bed looking at the ceiling. Jimin's words hurt, they reminded you of how betrayed you felt and how much you hated your current life. Jimin still didn't came back to the bedroom and at some point you thought that she decided to sleep on the couch but that thought soon left your mind as you heard the door opening. You turned around to face somewhere else and listened to her quiet footsteps getting closer and soon a hand shook your arm. You stayed still not wanting to even look at her at that moment.

Jimin sighed before talking "Y/N... I know you don't want to talk and I understand that. Just know that I really regret saying everything I said back there, I didn't know about your father. I'm gonna sleep on the couch tonight" She finished and you heard her leaving some bags next to the bed and leaving. You moved around and took the bags to see what was inside and the sight shocked you. It was your favorite meal you ordered a lot during evenings. The fact that Jimin payed attention to that was completely surprising to you but the fact that she went and bought some for you despite the late hour was even more shocking.

Inside was a note.

I wasn't sure which sauce you preferred so I bought every kind they had. I hope you enjoy the food and maybe we can talk tomorrow?

From Jimin <3

Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

#vex writes #🌙 anon #aespa x reader #aespa reactions #yu jimin x reader #karina x reader #yu jimin #karina

[teencopandthesourwolf]

He freezes. Doesn't know what the hell else to do. 

He can't picture it: Derek can't remember the last time somebody put their arms around him. 

Was it Laura?

Of course it was Laura. How could he forget that? Derek has gotten pretty good at blocking things out—a little too good, it seems.

She didn't tell him she was going before she left New York. Didn't say a fucking word, just vanished. Derek had woken up one morning and she was gone. She'd known without doubt that Derek would only follow her if she had said a single word to him.

Nobody ever granted Derek’s wishes, no matter who he prayed to. The desperate pleas where he asked to go back and get a chance to fix things, they all went unheard.

Laura left to go back to the place they both wished still existed just as it had; a place they were wanted alive, not dead. It wasn't fair that it was the very same place they would be hunted down if they did return, like the rabid animals the Argent's presumed they were.

Leaving the way they did meant they hadn't gotten the chance to see if anything was left at the house. They couldn't mark graves, or grieve properly. 

That same place also happened to be the place they'd been born, the place they'd grown up and called home.

Derek had never wanted Laura to face all of that alone.

The burnt down house. The nothing where there was once everything.

The thought still haunts him. One of so fucking many. 

Beacon Hills is home—but it's the home Derek had helped raze to the ground with his selfishness and stupidity. Everything he and Laura had ever known, everyone they'd ever loved, it was all gone, now. Derek had taken those things away from his sister and hadn't even had the guts to tell her. Tell Laura they were all gone because of him, tell her that everything that had happened to their family, to them, was all his fault.

In the aftermath of the fire Laura hugged Derek, and had kept hugging him, over and over in those weeks and months and years that followed. She would pull him into her arms hold him tight, whenever she could sense it was all getting to be too much for him again.

Alpha.

Big sister.

But Laura only knew about some of the reasons why it sometimes felt like too much effort for Derek to keep on breathing.

He never told her about Kate.

And Derek, the fucking coward, he'd allowed Laura to hold him, feeling the flames of shame on his cheeks every time, hot as those that took the lives of his parents. His family. His pack. 

Now, he remembers that last time. 

“I'm going out.” 

Laura stood up, walked around the two mismatched armchairs and stopped him by throwing both her arms around his neck, pulling him into her and hugging him, scenting him. 

It always took him a moment to respond these days, but Derek hugged her back. 

“What's this for?”

“You. Because I know whomever's bed you end up in tonight, you won't be asking for one of these.”

Oh, fuck no. Derek couldn't handle that. Did she think he was out sleeping with people? Never again, not after…

He pushed his sister off him, gently; a stark contrast to the harsh words that followed. 

“Don't fucking coddle me. And fuck you, Laura—I don't sleep in anybody's fucking bed but my own.” A single mattress on the floor of the lounge of their shitty one bedroom apartment. Derek had so many shameful memories, and crawling into his sister's bed every night for the first year after the fire was one of them. “Just—leave me alone.”

Laura was the one—the only—person Derek had left in the entire world, yet his guilt was constantly pushing her away. 

“Then where do you go to all these nights, little brother? You might not be clinging to me anymore, night after night, nightmare after nightmare, but you're so rarely in your own bed in the mornings.” She hadn't meant it as a dig. She was his sister and she loved him.

Maybe she thought he was making progress? Seeing people. Moving on.

Derek spent his nights waiting outside of dive bars, hanging around in back alleys and dark places, desperately trying to find scumbags he could taunt who were big enough and hard enough to at least attempt to kick the living shit out of him.

Derek hated being a werewolf, now. He wanted to get hurt and stay hurt.

“Just—out.”

Then Derek turned his back on Laura, leaving her to stand there and watch him walk away as he left her to go out looking for a fight, without looking back. 

That was the last time somebody put their arms around Derek—and the last time he saw his sister alive.

It was two years ago. Derek doesn’t think he has taken a full breath, since. 

Now here he is, standing in his big stupid loft that he bought for his betas—yet another pack he managed to destroy—having given away more than he should, with skinny yet strong arms wrapping themselves as far around his shoulders as they can reach. 

Stiles.

“You don't have to hug back. But you can, if you want to. I won't tell,” the kid jokes. It's his way to connect, his connection to the world. A coping mechanism, Derek thinks.

He knows all about those.

“I…” he doesn't have the first fucking clue of how to handle this. Or how to admit he needs it—to himself, let alone somebody else. He doesn't know how to admit that he wants it. 

But this is Stiles. The one person in Derek's life who seems, for some unfathomable reason, to give a fuck about Derek. To care about him.

Slowly, very slowly, Derek lifts an arm and awkwardly rests a hand on Stiles's upper back, feels the muscles jump slightly under the kid's baggy clothes as he tentatively spreads his fingers and finds the back of Stiles's neck. 

Stiles's voice hitches just a touch as he says, “These can be on tap, you know. If you want them. Stilinski hugs are the best hugs, dude. Believe.”

And Derek finds he does believe. For the first time in forever, Derek believes there could be something good in his life again.

More confidently, now, he brings his other arm up to wrap around Stiles's waist and hugs Stiles tighter, properly, and allows himself to be hugged back.

Derek wonders how he has gone so long without this kind of closeness. Lived without this kindness.

He decides to let the 'dude' pass. Because maybe—maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, to be somebody's dude? 

Stiles's dude.

It's a fucking ridiculous moniker and yet Derek suddenly couldn't care less. 

“I think I'd like that,” he whispers into the forbidden place where Stiles's jaw meets long, pale neck. "Dude."

Derek can feel Stiles's smile as the kid squeezes him harder. And, ironically, Derek feels as if he can breathe again. 

.

for @greyhavenisback bc i want to hug you in person and can't <3 (unedited, forgive me!)

#sterek #sterek ficlet #sterek fic #sterek oneshot #POV derek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #derek x stiles #stiles x derek #m/m #queer fic #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #laura hale #derek and laura #hale pack feels #angst #hurt/comfort #hugs #derek hale deserves nice things #stiles stilinski is a nice thing #tcats writes #teencopandthesourwolf

[thetriumphantpanda]

where you want your gift, girl? | Joel Miller

Summary | It’s your birthday and Joel, knowing it’s not your favourite celebration, is keen to show you that it‘s not always going to be a bad day, not if he can help it.

Warnings | birthdays, allusions to strained parental relationships, food & alcohol consumption, smoking of (1) cigarette, no/pre-outbreak AU, gift giving, explicit smut, rough sex, choking/breath play, brief spit play, oral sex (F Receiving), safe unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cumplay, literally just filth tbh, no use of y/n.

Word Count | 4.2K

Authors Note | Honestly? It’s my birthday today and all I want is for Joel Miller to fucking rail me to celebrate - we can’t have everything we want I suppose, so we’ll have to deal with writing our fantasies instead! Happy Birthday to me - Enjoy!

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You’d never really enjoyed birthdays. Other people’s, sure. The opportunity to treat your friends and make other people happy was something you’d always loved, but when it was you as the centre of attention, you almost hated it. The way people would train their eyes on you as you opened their gifts, the anxiety that you felt not knowing what it would be and whether you’d have to pretend it was the best thing in the world when you could think of a million things you needed above what they’d given you. It always made you feel ungrateful. Birthdays aren’t as exciting as you get older either, just another reminder of how far behind the rest of your friends you are, how little you seemed to have accomplished next to them in the same amount of years. 

It was no different this year, not really. Your mother had phoned you before you’d gone to work, asked if you received the card she’d sent in the post that had the customary $100 stuffed into it, before chiding you for not doing as you said you would last time you spoke and find a new job, something more challenging, related to that degree you’d spent all her money on. You sigh and hang up the phone before she can say anything else, a mumbled sorry that you were running late but thank you for the card. 

The only saving grace for your birthday this year was the fact it was a Friday, so you didn’t have to worry about drinking too much beer and having to go to work the next morning with a hangover. To their credit, your work colleagues had been quite nice to you - they’d pooled together to get you a gift card for you to spend on whatever you’d like, and Sandra from accounts had made you a birthday cake – red velvet because it was your favourite. Once everyone had eaten a slice, she put a Tupperware on your desk with two more generous slices in it, winking at you before walking away. 

“For your handsome boyfriend.” She’d said, giggling as she walked away. 

There was another saving grace for your birthday, you supposed. Joel Miller. Who had burst into your life in a whirlwind eight months ago when his beautiful daughter had spilled her hot chocolate all over your crisp new shirt in her hurry to get to the table so she could drink it. He’d been the most apologetic you ever thought you’d seen a man, helping you to wipe the worst of it off with napkins whilst Sarah profusely apologised next to you. You’d put a comforting hand on her shoulder, told her it was okay, and that you understood entirely, you’d have been as excited as her to drink hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Joel had insisted on paying for your dry cleaning, something you’re pretty sure only ever happened in films, and when you’d phoned him to tell him it really had been a minimal amount, he’d asked to take you to dinner instead, and the rest really was history. 

He’s phoning you now, his name popping up on the front screen of your phone, you smile as you answer it. 

“Hello, handsome.” You greet. 

“Good afternoon,” His southern drawl hits your ears, “Happy birthday, my darlin’ girl.” 

God, he makes you so happy, “Thank you, cowboy.” 

“You want me to pick you up and take you for dinner?” He asks, “Tommy is gonna look after Sarah tonight, so I’m all yours, whatever you wanna do.” 

You think for a second, sure, dinner out is a nice idea, but it’s been a long week, and you think what you want most is to be at home with him, “You think you could grill me a steak and let me drink beer on your couch instead?” You ask, slightly embarrassed that this is all you want for your birthday. 

“If that’s what you want, darlin’, then I’ll grill you the best steak of your life,” He chuckles, and then you can hear him cover the phone and speak to Sarah, who must be just back from school, “Sarah wants to speak to you real quick.” 

He passes the phone and it’s Sarah’s sweet voice that greets you next, “Happy birthday!” 

“Thank you, honey,” You smile, “You looking forward to some time with your Uncle Tommy?” 

“He’s gonna take me to the movies,” You can hear the grin on her face, “I already heard dad telling him not to feed me too much candy, but he never listens,” You chuckle, “I got you a present,” She speaks again, “I gave it to dad so you can open it later.” 

“Ahhh you sweet girl,” You coo, “I’m sure I’ll love it,” You reassure, “And I’ll be there tomorrow so I can thank you in person.” 

“Alright,” She replies, “Dad wants the phone back, but have a nice birthday with him!” 

You say goodbye to her, and then Joel tells you he’ll be waiting for you when you finish to bring you home. It’s only two hours until the end of the day, but you struggle to focus on the emails you’ve got to answer – you get through as few as is acceptable before the end of the day, logging out at exactly 5:30pm, box of cake clutched in your hand, handbag slung over your shoulder as you head out. 

Joel is leaning against the side of his truck, arms crossed over his chest so his biceps are bulging in the flannel he’s wearing, he’s also got one of his ankles crossed over the over. He looks so casual but as devastatingly handsome as he always is. He slips an arm around your waist when you’re close enough, pushing his palm into your lower back to press your body to his, dipping down to press his lips to yours. He’s gentle with it, opening his mouth against yours so he can slip his tongue into your mouth, letting his tongue meld with your own, kissing you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world. 

“Get a room, you two!” It’s Sandra from accounts. 

Joel pulls away just enough to laugh against your lips, pressing his to yours once more before pulling away properly, opening the car door for you to get in, pressing a light swat of his hand to your ass as you hoist yourself up into the truck. 

Once he’s slipped into the driver's side and settled one of his hands on your upper thigh, he starts the drive from the city out to his house. It’s a quiet drive, Joel’s humming along to whatever is playing on the radio, you’re occupied with looking out the window. This is what you love about Joel, that he’ll sit in silence, won’t feel the need to make you talk, it makes you feel comfortable, knowing that he’s there when you need him, but he’s not going to force you to speak when you don’t want to. 

He’s pulled into the drive in no time, picking up the grocery bags from the backseat. You try and peak inside to see what he’s bought; you’re hoping he’s got the ingredients to make those mashed potatoes you like, and mushrooms that he’ll cook on the grill too. 

When he opens the door, you’re almost overwhelmed by the sight that greets you. There are gold and black balloons littering the floor, with one bigger helium balloon, weighted down so it doesn’t float along the ceiling, set in the corner with big ‘happy birthday’ lettering written on it. There’s a birthday banner pinned to the wall, and a selection of wrapped gifts on the coffee table. You have a sneaking suspicion that most of this is Sarah’s doing.

You giggle a little as Joel presses himself against your back, kissing at your neck, “How much of this was Sarah?” You ask, following him through to the kitchen. 

“She blew up all those balloons before she went to bed last night, and she did all the wrapping, but the banner and the big balloon, that was all me, baby.” 

You press your lips to his cheek, smiling as he starts unloading the grocery bags. Two ribeye steaks, and just like you wanted, mushrooms to grill, and potatoes to mash. He leaves you in charge of watching the potatoes whilst he grills the rest of the food outside. Whilst it’s resting, he mashes the potatoes with enough butter to clog your arteries, but when you sit at the table, and those potatoes are in your mouth, you can’t find it in you to care - it’s your birthday after all. 

“Everythin’ alright, baby?” He asks, cutting into his steak.

“It’s perfect,” You grin, spearing a grilled mushroom onto your fork, “Better than sitting in a stuffy restaurant anyway.” 

You finish your food in relative silence. Joel insists on doing the dishes even if he did most of the cooking, before he’s leading you back to the living room. 

Joel sits you down on the couch, treading as carefully as he can through the trail of balloons to get you a fresh beer. He kneels down on the floor between you and the coffee table, taking a glug of his beer, before reaching across the table for the first gift, setting it in your lap. 

“That one is from Sarah,” He explains, “She made me promise you would open it first.” 

“Rules are rules,” You shrug with a chuckle, carefully tearing open the wrapping paper. 

When you pull the paper from the material it was wrapped in you feel overwhelmed. It’s the exact same blouse that Sarah had tipped her hot chocolate over, just in black instead of white. The shirt had been a write off from the start, the chocolate leaving a stain that even the dry cleaner couldn’t get out. 

“She saved her pocket money for months to buy this,” He murmurs, pinching the silky fabric between his fingers, “Said if it was what brought us together, she wanted you to be able to wear it.” 

You can feel tears prickling at your eyes as you fold the material up carefully, “She’s such a special girl, Joel.” You whisper, watching as Joel leans back over the table to pick up another gift. 

“This one’s from Tommy.” He murmurs, handing you the largest box on the table. 

You rip the paper off and open the box, revealing an actual cowboy hat. You laugh, because Tommy has always said in order to properly fit in, you’d need a cowboy hat. Joel reaches into the box, pulling the brown Stetson out of its box, placing it on your head. 

“Suits you, cowgirl,” He growls, leaning under the brim of the hat to kiss you, nibbling your bottom lip as he pulls away, “Keep it on.” He demands when you go to take it off. 

“He didn’t need to get me a gift,” You mutter as Joel moves the two final gifts towards you, “And it’s a proper Stetson, this must have cost a fortune.” 

“Not that it matters, because everyone in this household thinks the world of you, but he thrifted it, mainly because you’ve rubbed off on him and he thinks getting a pair of Levi’s for half price because someone doesn’t want them anymore is the best thing since sliced bread.” 

You tilt the hat on your head a little so you can see under the brim, as he hands you an envelope this time, “These are from me.” 

You open the envelope and pull out a postcard with a from New Orleans. You turn the card over, Joel’s handwriting scrawled on the back. 

“Pack a bag baby, and let me take you away.” 

“Are you for real?!” You exclaim, “You’re going to take me to New Orleans?!” 

“Course I am, darlin’ girl,” He grins, “I know you’ve always wanted to go, and we’ve never been away together.” 

“Are you even real?” You ask, wiping your tears away, because you’re overwhelmed, no-one has ever been so thoughtful. 

“Last time I checked I was,” He chuckles, taking the postcard from your hands, replacing it with the last gift, a small box, “Go on, last one.” 

You take it from his hand, tearing the paper off it to reveal a small box. You open it, and sat inside is a silver necklace, a silver hoop, entwined with a smaller hoop. You’d recognise this anywhere. You’d spotted it in the window of the jewellery shop downtown. You’d spend so long looking at it in the window before deciding you couldn’t afford it, yet here it is, in your hands. 

“Joel,” You breathe, running your fingers over the delicate silver, “This is too much.” 

He presses a single finger to your lips to shut you up, holding his hand out for the box, taking the necklace out as he pushes himself up onto the couch, putting the delicate chain across your neck, “Do you like it?” He asks from behind you, mouth right at your ear, breath hot on your skin.

You turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling your hat fall off your head as he returns the embrace, “I love it Joel,” You murmur into the skin of his neck, “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’ girl.” 

You spend the rest of the evening curled up on the couch together. You eat the slices of cake that Sandra had sent you home with, drink more beer, Joel even sits with his guitar outside, playing some of your favourite songs whilst you smoke a cigarette. When the sun has fully set and you’ve let out a particularly loud yawn, Joel closes up the house, takes hold of your hand, and takes you to bed. 

You’re led against the sheets, getting yourself comfortable, when Joel comes back from the bathroom, leaning against the door with his thumb resting on his belt. He’s lookin at you with those deep, coffee-coloured orbs as you turn onto your side, propping your head up on your palm to look at him. 

“How do you want it, baby?” He smirks, taking slow steps towards the bed. 

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, because that is a very good question. Do you want him to be soft and slow like he had been that first time? So concerned he was going to hurt you with his size and strength that he refused to go any harder or faster than was strictly necessary? Or the time he made love to you after you’d looked after Sarah when he had to work late. When he’d walked into his house and found you painting her nails for her, watching a film that he’d never had sat through, his heart bursting with so much love that he had to push it all into you, whispering promises into your ear as he did so. No, you think, that’s not what you want right now. 

“I want you to fuck me, cowboy,” You rasp, “Hard.” 

He’s stood at the foot of the bed now, eyes dark with lust, “Well, what the birthday girl wants,” He murmurs softly, wide, warm palm clasping around your ankle, “The birthday girl gets.” 

He tugs at your ankle, pulling you down the bed in one swoop, your legs dangling over the edge as his fingers work the button of your work trousers loose. You lift your hips up so he can drag them, and your underwear off your body, before he tugs you into a sitting position to work your blouse over your head. Your palms cup his face as you kiss him, your lips giving attention to his plush bottom lip as his hands reach behind you and work the clasp of your bra undone, dragging that off your body so you’re finally bared naked to him. 

He pulls back, trails his eyes over your naked body, before placing his hand on your chest, right between your breasts, pushing you back down onto the bed. He trails his hands down the expanse of your sides, coming to the meat of your thighs as he settles his face between them. Normally this is where he’d tease you, use that mouth to trail soft kisses up and down the inside of your thighs, stopping to nip at the soft skin every once in a while, but he surprises you tonight. 

Joel uses the flat of his tongue to lick a single stripe up the seam of your pussy. Then, he takes his hands, puts them on the backs of your thighs to push your legs back towards you, spreading them open further, baring the entirety of your spread, aching cunt to his face, before that tongue of his is diving into you, licking the slick that has been slowly gathering there from you, groaning at your taste. He drags his tongue up to your clit, using the tip of it to lightly flick at your clit, which has a quiet whimper leaving your lips as you tangle your fingers in his soft curls to keep his head anchored right where it is. 

You’ve never really known a man quite as enthusiastic about eating your pussy as Joel Miller. The way he groans into your cunt as he laps at you, the way his fingers dig bruises into your skin as he holds your legs open for him, it all adds to the way he has your teetering on the edge of your first orgasm of the night in minutes. You’re bucking your hips into his face, chasing that burst of pleasure you know is so close to you. 

You can hear the obscene sounds from him, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolls his tongue over it before letting it go with a pop, or the way he literally slurps the slick from your entrance. It’s when he slips two of his fingers inside your slick cunt that you’re really done for – fingers stretching you open, a poor substitute for what’s to come, but it’s good none-the-less. 

All of a sudden, that fiery burst of pleasure is setting your skin alight. Your body is arching off the bed, pushing your cunt further into Joel’s face as he sucks your clit through your orgasm. You can feel yourself clenching around his fingers as you let out as high-pitched shriek of his name as your body wracks with pleasurable aftershocks. You lie there, warm and pliant as Joel stands once he’s worked you through your orgasm. He takes off his shirt, and you marvel at that body, the one you get to enjoy, broad and strong for his work, but soft around the middle, just like you love. He’s looking you directly in the eye as he undoes the button on his jeans, belt from earlier seemingly lost in the bathroom before. You’re smirking as he drags his jeans and boxers down his legs, stepping out of them, stood before you in all his God damn glory. 

He is, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Especially when he’s got his cock gripped in his fist, pumping himself as you spread your legs for him, pushing yourself up the bed so he can settle between your thighs. 

You can feel the throbbing length of him slipping between your soaked folds as he finds a position, he’s comfortable with. You’re the one that reaches down between you and lines his cock up with your aching core, but it’s all Joel when he thrusts himself inside you, right to the hilt, in one go. He’s leaning forward, head rested in the crook of your neck, your name hissed out into your ear as he adjusts to the tight clench of your cunt. Your nails are already digging into the meat of his biceps when he drags himself out of you, before slamming back in. 

He revels in the way his rough thrusts make your tits bounce, dipping his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, gently nipping at the puckered bud with his teeth before soothing it with the pad of his tongue. He laves the same attention to the other, never once letting up the pace of his hips. 

“This what you wanted, darlin’ girl?” He chokes out, looking down at you writhing in pleasure beneath him. 

“More.” You gasp, hand reaching to grab at his wrist which is planted by the side of your head, propping him up. 

He puts most of his weight on his other hand, letting you drag his other palm to the delicate column of your throat, where the sheer size of his hand covers it in its entirety. He rests it there for a moment, continuing to pound his cock into your pussy, but then he’s adding pressure to the side of your throat, giving you that delicious dizzy feeling to your brain, before he’s releasing the pressure. You’re grinning up at him, moaning his name as his hips continue to slam into your own. 

“Like that, don’t ya?” He asks, “God you look so fuckin’ good with my hand around your throat, pretty girl.” 

“Always fuck me so good, Joel,” You cry out when he shifts his position slightly, cock brushing that sweet spot inside you, “Do it again.”

So he does, he squeezes his fingers around your throat again, your mouth dropping open as a crazed giggle leaves your mouth. You wish you could step outside your body right now and watch, watch what the two of you look like – his hand around your throat, the way he’s pounding into you so hard you’re sure you’ll be sore in the morning. 

You’re both breathing heavily as he trails the hand that was around your throat to grip at your jaw. He squishes your cheeks together, pursing your lips as his mouth claims your own, growling into you as his tongue licks at yours. He’s so fucking overwhelming right now, thick cock splitting you in two, strong body laid across your own, mouth on yours, and it’s still not enough. You want to peel his skin off and climb inside him, let him consume you whole. 

Joel pulls back, hand still on your jaw. 

“You my pretty girl, huh?” He asks, and you can only nod, his hand stopping you from talking, “Belong to me, right?” 

His hand goes back down to grip your throat, gently though, with no pressure, so you can talk to him now. 

“All yours Joel,” You purr at him, “Only ever gonna be yours.” 

“Open your mouth,” He demands, using his hand to gently shake you, so you do, “Stick your tongue out.” 

You do just that, staring straight into his eyes as he leans down, ever so slightly, and spits into your mouth. It’s warm, wet and utterly filthy, and you think it’s the entire reason that you can feel your slick dripping down onto his sheets now. Joel doesn’t even give you the time to swallow, chasing the saliva he’s just put into your mouth with his tongue, giving you the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever received. 

“Fuck,” He spits out, pulling back from your mouth, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, darlin’ girl,” He confesses, those rough thrusts slowing ever so slightly, “Put your hand on your clit for me, let’s do this one together.”

Your hand slinks between your bodies, seeking out that sensitive bud, still reeling from the orgasm he pulled from you, it doesn’t take much work from your fingers to have you teetering on the edge, but you want to do this together, you have to hold on for him. 

“Where d’ya want it?” Joel chokes out as your pussy flutters around him. 

“Inside,” Comes your begging plea to him, “Come inside me, Joel.” 

Your work your fingers across your clit a few more times before you’re coming around his cock, the nails of your free hand digging half-moon shapes into the meat of his shoulder. He manages three, maybe four more thrusts before he’s stilling inside of you, grunting out your name as the white-hot spurt of his spend fills your aching cunt. He fills you up so perfectly, holding himself there for a moment before he lets out a slightly pained sound, pulling himself out of your pussy. 

He sits back on his knees, watching the white trickle of him cum seep from your spent hole. He takes one of his fingers, scooping his cum on it before bringing it to your lips, where you suck it into your mouth, running your tongue over it to catch every bit of the taste of him. He falls forward, forehead pressed to your own, kissing your lips softly, before he moves to lie on his side of the bed. 

You push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning over to kiss him softly, mumbling that you’ll be back in a minute as you pad to the bathroom to clean up. When you come back to his room, he’s already under the covers, your side pushed back and waiting for you, so you clamber in, seeking out his torso under the covers so you can wrap your arm around him. He pulls you flush to his body, slick and warm from sweat, but you don’t care. 

His arm is draped across your shoulder, his fingers tracing slow and soft across your skin, as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Happy birthday, darlin’ girl.” He whispers to you as he turns out the light. 

“Best birthday ever,” You mumble softly against his chest as you let your heavy eyes closed, “All because of you, cowboy.” 

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller fluff #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x y/n #The Last Of Us #The Last Of Us HBO #tlou #tlou hbo #joel the last of us #Joel tlou #tlou fic #tlou smut #joel miller tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #the last of us fanfic