#I stop taking initiative and go back to you with a question the next time I need information and suddenly I’m not self sufficient

[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part one

word count: 9.2k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

There's no way for a friends-with-benefits agreement to fail when both parties understand the rules.

"Do you ever get tired?" 

Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.

"What do you mean by that, Clem?" He chuckles.

Clem turns over onto her side, propping her head up in one hand.

"Do you think about having a life of your own without racing but with a family, a wife, and kids? Do you ever want to go home and stay home?"

Lewis stares Clementine in her dark eyes before he turns and looks back up at the blank ceiling.

"I don't know." He whispered into the air. "I don't have much time to think about things like that, serious relationships and such." He winces as he says the words.

"You're not hurting me, Lew, I know what this arrangement is. I was just curious." Clem chuckled, plopping back onto her back. She pulls the covers up to conceal her bare chest.

They lie in silence again, and Lewis is left to think about what she'd just asked him.

He spent a lot of his time in a serious relationship, and immediately after that ended, he was in his single bachelor phase; somehow, as the years went on, it never ended. That's how he's gotten Clementine in his bed.

Of all the girls he chose to spend his time with, Clementine was easily his favorite. She wasn't artificial or an ass-kisser to him; she was simply herself. And Lewis wasn't used to coming across women like that, given his status and all.

Clementine was actually the complete opposite of every other girl in his rotation. She was younger than him, yes, but she was also smart and had dreams she wanted to achieve on her own. He liked to joke that everything about her screamed old lady. Clementine liked that. 

What's cooler than an old lady? 

"I'm going to take that as a compliment. I can't wait to get old; there's beauty in knowing you've lived; I know I'm going to spend my life fulfilling my potential. It'd be cool to be an eccentric old lady, just happy and peaceful. Content with life."

It was entirely by chance that he ran into her at all that night two years ago. He had been taking a late-night walk in the streets of New York when he first saw her. 

Initially, her style caught his attention, but the closer he got to her, the more noticeable was her smile and then her voice. God, she had the voice of an angel. She had that classic American drawl, so sultry and sweet like she was straight out of the fifties but with a twist. 

Then he realizes that he's seen her before, and he stops in his tracks, trying to pinpoint where exactly he'd recognized her gorgeous face from.

"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.

Clem halts, her lips puckering in as she squints at the unfamiliar man. "Sorry, Sir. I don't think so."

She surely doesn't recognize him.

And then it clicks, he snaps. "My photographer, Timothy McGurr!"

"Oh wow," she smiles. "I love Timmy. You said he's your photographer?" 

"Yes, for the last four years."

"Wow, four years." She marvels, "You model?"

"No." He laughs, shaking his head, "I race cars."

"Nascar?" She wonders, tilting her head to the side.

"Formula One." He corrects, and she hums, impressed.

"I've heard serious things about you guys over there. Anyhow, it was nice meeting you," she trails off, allowing him to introduce himself.

"Lewis." He sticks his hand out, "Lewis Hamilton."

As she shakes his hand, her phone lights up with a notification just as a black SUV pulls in. "That's me. It was a pleasure meeting you Mr, Hamilton." She smiles kindly, and then she slips into the vehicle and rides off into the night. 

Lewis stands there for a second. He doesn't know why, but he feels drawn to her for some reason.

The very next morning, he called his photographer for her details. Lewis has always been rather bold, so he isn't nervous when he dials her number. "Hi, Clementine?"

And the rest was history.

Lewis has learned one specific thing about Clem since their rendezvous began. She was an intense person. She liked to talk about any and everything. Lewis didn't mind it, though. It was nice to unpack with someone he knew wouldn't judge him.

She had a way of making anything she asked feel deep. Lewis was both enamored and intimidated by that.

Just as she was intuitive, she was equally as open. Lewis knew he could always bounce the question back to her, and she'd give him the most well-thought-out and theoretical answer. 

He loved listening to her talk just as much as he loved fucking her. 

"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.

"All of the time, and it's sad because I'm still so young, but I often wonder if any of this is even worth it. Is slaving away so hard going to be worth it in the future if I've spent my glory days basking in trying to find glory."

"I have faith in you, Clem. You're already lightyears ahead of the rest of us with that mind of yours."

She chuckles, and they bask in the comfortable silence for a while longer, both looking up at the ceiling of his New York penthouse like they're staring out into the galaxy.

"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"

"No," he answers honestly, "I won't be content until I reclaim my eighth." 

From the corner of his eye, he sees her head lull to the side and stare at him. Lewis doesn't get uncomfortable when Clem stares at him like he does when most people do. The idea of her reading into him is flattering more than unsettling.

"If you weren't a driver, what would you want to be?"

"A designer of all sorts, really. Music, fashion, you name it." He lists off, and she lets out an mhhm sound. 

"I can actually see that. You have a very creative mind." She praises.

"What about you? What would Clementine Russell be doing right now if she wasn't an actress?"

She chuckles, "Well, for starters, I wouldn't be naked in your bed. I'd probably be somewhere in the middle of nowhere, like Montana." She gasps, "Yeah, Montana! And I'd have a farm full of animals that I'd never eat, and I'd go out and sit and paint or write more stories that no one would ever see. If I could go back in time, I'd just write my stories, not play in them. I would hike the same mountain every day and watch the sunset. Yeah, I'd sit and watch the sunset every day and admire how beautiful everything becomes. "

For some reason, that statement holds a more significant sentiment than she intended.

"You sure do have a way with words."

"I try." 

Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.

"Do you think I'm annoying?"

"No, never." Lewis reveals, "I actually like having you here to talk to; why do you ask?"

"Sometimes I feel like I talk too much and ask too many questions."

"I think you make people feel seen when you ask questions the way you do." He hums. "Do people ask you questions?"

"No, not really." 

"Do you wish people asked you questions, Clem?"

"Yes."

That's when Lewis realizes that all that glimmers isn't gold. Clementine Walker had the life of a star. She could do anything she wanted at any given time. Yet she wasn't content with her life. She was actually rather lonely. 

"I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something." She chuckles dryly. "That's pathetic."

And suddenly, Lewis feels terrible for not asking the woman more questions. He feels like a shit person for receiving her and giving her nothing in return. Clementine was better than therapy for him; who gave therapy to her?

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk? I consider you to be a friend Clem. I like listening to you. I like hearing about you, too."

"Okay."

"We can start now?"

"You first." She has a giddy smile on her face as she turns over to face him.

"Why do you think you feel everything so deeply?"

She hums, her eyes casting downward as she allows the question to ruminate. 

"I expect everything to be meaningful. I have a hard time seeing anything objectively. Everything has to mean something to me, and if it doesn't, what's the point? If it has no purpose, how am I supposed to accept it? I feel so deeply because every word, action, and situation has to mean something; there has to be a reason behind it. I've never had someone tell me that things weren't that deep; I wasn't taught to brush things off; I was taught to feel and to try to understand everything and everyone."

"I think that's beautiful. You're such a gracious being, you know that?"

She whispers a quiet thanks as she thinks over what to ask him.

"What's one thing you lost as a kid that you wish you could get back?"

"I had a remote-controlled big Homer car when I was a kid, and I used to drive it in the park every day. I got distracted one day and left without it; when I came back the next day, it was gone."

"Who gave it to you?" Clem inquires, and when Lewis turns onto his side to face her, she looks so intrigued by what he has to say. He doesn't think anyone has ever cared so much for what he has to say if it wasn't involving his career.

"My dad, for my sixth birthday. We were poor, so it meant a lot to me; I really cherished it. Felt like I took it for granted, I loved that car so much, but I left it. How could I forget something that important to me?"

Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.

"You can love something and still lose it, which illustrates how much you adore it in the end. You never really know how much you appreciate something until you no longer have it." Clem enlightens.

Lewis wonders how her brain can process such complex thoughts in mere seconds.

"What have you lost?"

"A letter from my dad." Clem hums. "When he was in prison before things got bad with my mom and he stopped reaching out, I was turning eight, and he sent this beautiful card. It was Clementine orange, and when you opened it, a three-dimensional cake popped out with like a million yellow candles. I remember it saying these candles don't compare to the light you brought to the world on this day many years ago." Clem chuckles as she describes the elaborate birthday card. She picks at Lewis' sheets as she speaks.

He sees her lips pressed together, and she turns to face the ceiling again. She doesn't seem like she intends to keep talking.

"I'm listening, y'know. I'd love to hear more." Under the covers, his hand travels down until it catches hold of Clems. 

"I-um, He wrote his message in like really elegant cursive, and I was a kid at the time, so I had my grandpa read it to me over and over, like every day, until I had fully memorized it. I had never seen my dad in person. I had never heard his voice, not even over the phone. I had never even gotten a letter from him before. Still, the things he wrote in that letter were beautiful. I remember feeling a little less lonely as if he loved me unconditionally. There were dried tears embedded in the paper material. I knew he cried as he wrote it, and that made me feel like, damn, this is a man who means what he says, feels exactly what he writes. I don't know when I lost that letter or how I just knew when I went for it again. It was nowhere to be found. I'm forgetting the words he wrote to me."

"Have you heard from him since?"

"Once but not directly. When I turned fifteen, he was released. He felt like he wouldn't know how to be a father when he got out. Which I understood. I can't force anyone to have a relationship with me. It must’ve been hard going in when your child is an infant and coming out to her fully bloomed. He cried on the phone to my grandpa every time he argued with my mom. She'd say nasty things to him, like how he'd never be a father to me and how I was better off. I figured when you're locked in a cell, and all you can think about is going home to your child, it must’ve been hard to hear that you would never account for anything. I believe he gave up. Not everyone is strong enough to take on that kind of mental battle."

Even as Clementine describes how fucking sucky her childhood was, she is still showing grace to the people who ruined her innocence.

"He never asked to speak to me during these calls. My mother always kept him at a distance when he was in prison. If he had written more letters than the one he sent to my grandpa, like he wrote that he did, I never got them. She was good at telling him that she didn't want him in my life. I don't blame her either; neither of them was ready to be parents. I got a call on my eighteenth birthday. It was just breathing on the other side for a while. I had a feeling it was him, so I didn't hang up, but it was a gravely voice on the other end and he sounded a little choked up. Said the exact same line from my birthday card, I'm not sure if you like cake, but eat a lot of it today princess. Happy birthday. And then the call disconnected. Kind of fucked me up a little bit because I think I was just getting to a point where I was finally okay with not having parents."

"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces. 

"It's cool, builds character." She jokes dropping her elbow and lying completely on her side.

"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."

"My grandpa always told me that if you can find grace in failings, life becomes more beautiful. If you can find grace in every situation, eventually, those graces will catch up to you. Everyone deserves to have grace; who am I to hold something above someone else because of how it made me feel? You never know what made someone act the way they did. In the end, it may have affected them more than me, but as long as I'm gracious and I consider these kind of things to be a possibility it makes it easier for me."

Lewis thinks back to all the times he handled situations without grace, when he allowed himself to blow up over small things, and how, in the end, it made situations worse than they needed to be. He internally hums at the realization.

"Shit." 

She is shuffling from his bed, sheets clutched tightly against his chest. 

She gracefully moves around his room, the sheets fitting her like a gown. Lewis props himself up on one arm, watching her gather her belongings. 

When she tosses the sheet back onto the bed, he watches as she pulls on her pants and steals his button-up to throw over her thin tank top.

She sits on the edge of his bed, throwing on her worn Adidas sambas. 

"It's been a blast, Sir Hamilton." She bows, and he softly launches a pillow at her. She catches it with a sweet grin and places it at his feet. "I have to be on set early tomorrow. My assistant sent a car for me."

"I'll call you when I'm back in town," he suggests, and she nods, letting out a noise of agreement as she saunters over to his bedroom door. 

"Be safe out there on the track." She blows him a kiss, and then she is gone, and he hears his front door close gently. 

Lewis likes spending time with Clem. She has a way of taking every ounce of stress from his bones.

Lewis wasn't a relationship kind of guy, and he liked that Clem understood that. She wasn't trying to force a relationship on him or was convinced she could change his mind. 

Clem was there for the great sex and the even better conversations. The two of them had made great friends out of each other, and they were both content with the status of their association.

Lewis never told Clementine this, but he liked watching her work. He liked how she could put out art, and he could resonate with it. Lewis thinks that Clem is the most emotionally intelligent person he's ever met, which is why everything she puts her hands on just works.

And it shows. Clementine is the kind of person whose words sound like they're straight from classic literature. She has a way of speaking that instantly captivates every person in her proximity.

Clementine was a Jill of trades. She liked to act, but she was an even better writer. This is why she was awarded co-director of her award-winning show after helping to direct only three episodes. He knew she had a knack for all things creative. She liked to draw, paint, and read, and she had a thing for tattoos just as much as he did.

Clementine was actually so fucking cool.

People loved her naturally; she only had to be herself, and it made people gravitate towards her. 

Being around Clem was like having the hands of an angel on you. It was impossible to feel troubled, even if you were going through the most unfortunate or stressful circumstances. If you had Clem, trust you'd feel nirvana.

Her words echo in his mind. I write scripts for myself to act out when I want to talk about something.

He switches on his television and clicks on the Netflix app. It's the first option under his 'continue watching' category, and he presses resume. 

Lewis loved her show, though he never admitted it. It was artsy and different than what was new and hot now. Clem channeled all of her favorites to make this show. He remembers her describing her obsession with Jim Carrey and The Truman Show. Her favorite movie of all time was Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, and her favorite character also shared her name. 

He knew that Clementine cried when she read Tuesdays with Morrie, just like she did when she watched Requiem for a Dream. She had an odd obsession with The Joker movie and was even more obsessed with the lore of how each Joker is portrayed differently. She always saw herself in Charlie, from the perks of being a wallflower.

She rewatched What's Eating Gilbert Grape at least once a week. If you asked her, Tim Burton was the best director in the world, and she had a special connection to Edward Scissorhands. She also loved anything with a narrator.

She was right. It makes you feel each character a little bit more to hear their every thought.

He now knows that she likes to narrate her own show because she likes to talk about what she feels. No one asks her how she feels.

Everything that Clem likes is so deep and complex, and it fits her perfectly. 

He must admit that he had never heard of any of these shows, movies, or books before meeting Clementine. But seeing how passionately she described them had him desperate to enlighten himself. He sees the inspiration of it all in her show. 

Every episode starts with a question. Clem appears facing away from the camera, an oversized Carhartt denim jacket adorning her frame. He sees that she is sitting on a mountain, a camera held to her face, taking pictures of the most scenic view he's ever seen.

Her voice emerges through the speaker, yet her mouth is unmoving.

"You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever, everything unchanged and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

The camera is still panned out but moves to the side, where he views her relaxed frame from the side. As the camera zooms in she breaks the fourth wall, turning to face the camera. The sky is oddly vividly blue in the background and the clouds are all weirdly perfect. 

"Probably here."

As the sun sets, the sky adorned in perfect warm hues, she sets the camera beside her and folds her hands in her lap. She turns to face the beautiful view, and she looks more content with life than she's ever seen.

Her voice rings through the speaker again as the camera pans out, and her body begins to look smaller and smaller against the vast sky.

"You can still see the sunset even on the darkest of days.”

-

The next time Lewis sees Clem is at her the Cannes movie festival.

She is obviously the lady of the hour, and he's had a hard time catching up with her. 

When he finally does see her, his breath hitches as she maneuvers through the crowd and away from the red carpet in a very elaborate gown. She looks like a princess.

Like she can feel his eyes on her, her head turns and she sees Lewis standing amongst a group of other celebrities. 

There are three people surrounding her. Zeus, her bodyguard, SK her assistant and finally her publicist Nia.

She approaches him, ready to greet him with a wide grin; Lewis has a grin of his own covering his face as he steps ahead of the group.

"Lewis, Hi!" She pitches, raising her arms to hug him; he happily accepts her embrace, wrapping his own around her frame. 

"Can't wait to see you on the big screen." He boosts, and she smiles up at him, ready to reply, when a hand clamps down over her wrist and begins pulling her away, "Sorry, got to keep going, Clem."

She offers him a rushed smile, lifting her dress so that she can exit with speed. Lewis has never once felt like the fan in a situation until it came to Clem.

"So the movie is going to be about cannibalism?" His friend asks, looking through the pamphlet.

"No," Lewis combats. "I mean, yes, but it's deeper than that, the flesh represents..." and he drones on describing the lore of her new movie, Bones and All.

His description is almost word for word the way you described it to him after he asked the same exact question.

"So it's a movie about eating people?"

Clementine laughed, shaking her head, and moved to sit against his headboard. Her skin was still flushed from their previous actions, and her mouth was dry. 

"Cannibalism is just the placeholder for many different vices. Everyone has their vices. By using something that damn near everyone looks down on, the symbolism of just how serious these issues are get understood tenfold. Think of it like this, you get mental illness from one parent, and the other denies that you have it. They believe you're perfect, nothing is wrong, but deep inside, there is this illness growing in you and festering out of control that you can't get help for, that won't be accepted."

"Imagine being homosexual, imagine not being able to express that, especially in the eighties; it becomes a bliss you have to satisfy in private. Something you must keep a secret, or something bad will happen to you. Some vices are passed on, like alcoholism or addiction, and even trauma can be passed on, like mental illness; it's about how you have to hide it all, how it catches up to you, and how it ruins you. If you watch it, think about that, Lewis. Think about what each character represents. What is the flesh they're eating?"

Lewis cries during the movie. He sees that he is not the only one as the lights illuminate the cinema, and there are no dry eyes in sight. Lewis would never understand how Clem was able to have such a complex mind and also make it so simple and still artistic to the point where anyone could understand.

Lewis usually hates being forced to attend film festivals. He especially dreads the standing ovations that drag on and on. But he graciously stands for the entire seventeen minutes that her movie receives. 

He's always told Clem that, at a certain point, she'd have to let that humbleness go. Lewis was a humble person, there was nothing wrong with it, but he didn't like that Clem thought she didn't deserve praise for her work. He wanted her to know she was the shit. 

He feels his heart swell with pride as she marvels at the cheers, whoops, whistles, and applause. 

He places his fingers between his lips, letting out a whistle of his own. It dominates the space, and she turns to face him like she knows it is him.

Clementine's grin grows impossibly larger, and she lifts her arm to wave at Lewis. He spreads his arms out in front of him and bows at her.

Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him. 

Although she attends the film festival every year, this was her first time presenting her work as a director. This was a huge deal to her. Not only was she the star actress in the film, but this was hers. Her work, her words, her art, and people loved it and understood.

As two more dreamy minutes pass on and the cinema falls into an air of collective chatter, she folds her hands over her heart and speaks to her fellow costars. 

"Holy fucking shit," Timothee curses, "do you understand that we just got a nineteen-minute standing ovation?" He places her head between his hands, pulling it towards him and placing a kiss in her hair. "Fuck, Clem. You're a fucking creative genius, you know that?"

-

When Clementine finally got used to people she realized that she actually does like parties. Here she was being celebrated by people, some she knew, some she didn't all the way in France. 

She is in a mansion in France, fresh off the red carpet, throwing back shots with every pat on the back. There is a thrill in being praised, and with each pat on the back or congratulatory kiss on the cheek she gets, she feels herself levitating.

When Clementine first got the idea for the movie, she stayed awake for twenty-four hours, holed up in her bedroom, typing away at her keyboard as she planned and created rough drafts of a proposal. 

If you asked Clem, she doesn't think that she's a creative genius like everyone else believes. She thinks that she materializes how she feels into forms of art that people will understand. She doesn't sit and think long and hard or even look for targeted things to express. She just knows. 

Clem wanted to write a movie for those she felt had been denying themselves. For the kids confused about their feelings and things they can't control. From alcoholism, sexual identity, mental illness, addiction, and all the way to feeling lonely and navigating life on your own. She wanted to make a movie that materialized how it feels to come of age without understanding the purpose of life. And she'd done it.

Clem wouldn't say she was particularly close to any of the people here at the afterparty, minus Timothee. They had grown very close since filming together. 

Clem actually wouldn't say she was close to many people at all other than her small, tight-knit group of friends and, of course, Lewis. Which is ironic because their entire relationship is built on the basis of sex. 

She can't lie; when she first met Lewis, she was instantly attracted to him. He had a certain kind of charm about him that just screamed, You're going to respect me.

Clem liked that Lewis stood ten toes behind what he believed, always. She liked that he was genuinely a kind person and not just pretending for the media. What he put out was actually who he was, and Clementine wasn't used to seeing that in the celebrity world. 

Lewis fully intended to be friends with Clementine when he called her that first night, but the longer they were in each other’s presence, the more obvious it was to sense the lingering sexual tension between them.

Clem wasn't offended when Lewis admitted that he wanted to sleep with her and keep her around without the formalities of a romantic relationship.

In fact, she was fine with it. 

She didn't judge him when he explained how he wasn't a relationship kind of guy. She listened intently when he described how demanding his job was, and she even hummed along in agreement when he concluded that sex can sometimes just be fun.

It'd been two years since she first met Lewis; she was older and more mature. More demanding of herself. 

She was learning to let things go as the days passed and let things come when the world felt. 

She feels like she's gotten to know herself better, and she owes a lot of that to the nearly 40-year-old driver who has taken the time to unravel parts of her that no one else bothered. 

So when she sees Lewis walk through the grand entrance now dressed in a far more casual outfit than the black Louis Vuitton tuxedo that adorned his frame earlier, she can't help the way her smile makes her eyes crinkle.

She rushes from the bar, slipping past the guests, crowding the home, and speeds up the stairs as fast as her heels can take her. 

She lets her dress fall at her feet as she tosses on her own less formal outfit and descends the stairs again in search of her friend.

He sees her first, perched on the stairs with a concentrated face, and he chuckles at just how focused she looks. Her eyes are scanning the crowd, and he waits patiently until her eyes catch his.

When they finally meet, he raises his hand in a cool wave, and she grins, skipping down the stairs. He raises his brows when she finally makes it to him after being stopped time and time again by other partygoers.

"Lady of the hour, huh?" He jokes, pulling her into him. 

"I don't even know these people," she whispers, smiling softly and offering a wave as a drunken man passes by and calls out her name. She turns back to Lewis with fogged eyes, "Timothee wanted to throw an afterparty, so here we are."

"You have been celebrating?"

"I've taken a few shots or so." She smiles, "Can we get out of here?"

Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."

His hand travels down and takes her own, leading her from the full house. "Where do you want to go, love?"

"Anywhere is fine; just want to be far away from people." She sighs.

Lewis peers down at her, watching as she scours the long driveway.

He motions her to his car and she slips from his hold already pacing towards it. She hops into the passenger side when she hears the car unlock and he plops down into the drivers seat.

"Why are you here in France? You didn't tell me you'd be here." Clem inquires as Lewis places his phone into her lap so that she can play music. He always preferred her music taste when they rode in the car late at night.

"I wanted to see the movie and support my friend." He smirked.

"You have to be in Monaco tomorrow!" she gasps. " You can't do that, Lew. You need rest. When did you even get here?"

"I touched down today after qualifying."

"No." Clem disapproves, "I could’ve just gotten you tickets to the premier. You must be so tired." 

Lewis shakes his head, "M'fine. Besides, I wanted to be one of the first people to see it." Which was a lie because he was totally exhausted. 

"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.

Lewis only nods, already knowing her eyes are set on him. Frank Ocean begins to play through his speakers, and he hums along to the song playing. It brings upon his next thought.

"I say you posting in the studio?" He eyes, "Let me find out Clemy girl about to be in the booth spitting."

She laughs shaking her head, "not even, I was just there with Tyler. Did record a few vocals for him though."

"Maybe one day you should, I don't know, release something of your own."

Clem scoffs, "I know you think I can do everything. We're not all great at everything."

"It's true, do you think you can do it all, besides I've heard you singing in the shower; sounds nice."

"So you wait outside of the bathroom listening to me, creep."

He smacks his teeth, removing one hand from the wheel to blindly mush her.

"I'm serious, though. I think you have a beautiful voice."

"Thank you. Maybe one day we'll both stop playing in the studio and do something together." She chortles, "So I guess what I'm saying is, I'll do it if you do."

Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."

Lewis takes her back to his hotel for the night. He smiles as he watches her from the living room. She is on the balcony, arms spread along the banister. 

He approaches her. Like she can sense his presence, she speaks up, "Beautiful, isn't it?"

He doesn't bother looking out to the view. He keeps his eyes on her. "Yeah, very beautiful."

Sometime in the night, the two of them ended up entangled in his bed, both on their sides, as Lewis thrust into her from behind. One of his arms is outstretched and serving as a pillow for her neck, and the other is wrapped around her waist, holding onto her hand as he moves deeper and deeper into her warmth. 

He knows that when she squeezes around him for that final time, he's as good as done for, sheathing himself as far as he can get; his mouth drops open as he releases himself in heavy spurts. Clem exhales as he finishes, her grip on his hand loosening slightly. 

Lewis doesn't bother to remove himself from her core; the arm nestled between the crook of her neck and shoulder bends until his hand is cupping her jaw and forcing her head back towards him, where he is leaning over her shoulder. He smashes his lips against hers in a searing peck, one after the other, until he holds his mouth against hers. She opens her mouth, and their tongues glide against each other in perfect harmony. 

Finally, they pull apart to breathe, and Lewis pulls out with a hiss. They both fall onto their backs, his taken arm still resting beneath her head and his free arm holding their conjoined hands against his chest.

"It gets better and better every time." She admits, and Lewis lets out his signature boyish laugh, turning to face Clem. She is taking the time to catch her breath, a happy, satisfied grin covering her face as she stares up at nothing.

It's like a scene from a movie. The curtains flowed gently against the wind, and the night sky of Cannes was illuminated by stars blazing through his open balcony doors. Clem's exquisite side profile is the main focus.

He reaches over, pulls his phone from the nightstand, and slyly takes a picture before dropping his phone beside him and reconnecting their hands. 

"I should go," Clem announces with a sigh. "You have an early morning ahead of you."

"You don't have to go." Lewis tested, "It's late."

"It's always late when we're together, Lewis." Clem reminds.

"I- Just stay the night. It doesn't have to be weird. We know what we're doing."

He feels her head turn against his head and knows that she's looking at him with those same endearing eyes. "Okay," she whispers into the air.

"Besides, we haven't talked." Lewis murmurs, and Clem smiles. "Can't break the ritual. You remember when I asked you where you would be if you weren't you, and you said Montana?"

Clem hums in agreement. "Yeah, what about it?"

"Think we should go one day, you and me. See those animals; climb that mountain."

Clem wills back the tears burning behind her eyes. That conversation occurred two months into their arrangement, and two and a half years later, here he was, bringing up small details to a dream she'd told him about briefly. 

"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.

"Nothing, just surprised you remembered that, is all."

"I remember everything you say to me, Clementine."

"I'd love to go to Montana with you," she whispers after a while. "It's the prettiest in spring." 

"Well, we'll go next spring then." Lewis declares.

Clem smiles against against his arm, placing a peck there. "Deal, if you're not sick of me by then, we'll climb that mountain in Montana."

Lewis turns back towards the celing hoping she can't tell that her simple actions had his face burning and had his blood rushing. 

"You know in eternal sunshine of the spotless mind when they're laying on the ice?"

"Yeah, Clem." Lewis chuckles. "We've watched it a million times."

"That's what it feels like laying here right now with you."

"Thank you." Lewis grins.

"Her hair was blue." Clem points out. "Her hair changed colors to represent their relationship. Why do you think it was blue?"

"They were starting over. Maybe she was still down about erasing him."

"Huh," Clem sighs, "that's a good take." 

"Shower?"

"With you?" She wonders.

"If you're okay with that."

 "I just let you fuck me into oblivion. Why not let you clean me up."

Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower. 

clementine

liked by lewishamilton, tchalamet, and 8,898,465 others

clementine the best week, the most perfect week.  

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lewishamilton Amazing movie 🙌🏽 such a deep message.

tchalamet And she's done it again people.

badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. ❤️

pharell, You're a literal artistic genius; I look forward to working with you in the future.

user Clemmy + Timmy. The duo we didn't know we needed.

-

As Lewis saunters around the hotel room quietly the next morning, he keeps a cautious eye on the girl in his bed. He trips over his discarded shoe as he focuses on not waking her up. He mentally facepalms himself as she begins to stir.

Clem sits up, dazed and groggy; she clutches the sheets to her chest as she peers at Lewis, who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 

"Good morning," he winces, "Sorry, I was packing my suitcase back up, didn't mean to wake you."

"It's fine," she rasps, reaching over to grab her phone and checking the time. When she sees that it's seven in the morning, she internally groans but slides her legs off the side of the bed to get ready to pack herself up.

"Woah, hey-" Lewis is by her side in an instant. "Where you going, love?"

Clem pauses, still half asleep she examines him through puffy eyes. "Your flight is at 8:30, right? You're about to head out."

Lewis nods but lifts her legs back onto the bed. "Yeah, but checkout is not until twelve." 

When he realizes that she is still glancing at him in confusion, he sits on the bed beside her. "You can stay here, Clem; get some rest before you get on the road. I'll leave the room key with you. Just let them know you're checking out for the king suite."

He laughs as she furrows her brows. "Don't make it weird." he reiterates from last night. 

She lets her head fall back against the pillows, more than happy to return to her slumber.

"How long are you going to be in Monaco?"

"About a week." 

Clem tried not to think too deeply about his big palm spread over her thigh, his thumb caressing it so tenderly.

"Oh." She mutters, "and then Canada?"

Lewis chuckles, his hand coming up to hold her jaw tenderly, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Look at you," he chuckles, "got my schedule memorized, huh?"

Clem feels the familiar burning in her face as she suppresses her shy smile. "Oh, please." she scoffs. "We've been at this for two years. Of course, I remember the times you begged me to hop on your plane and fly to you so that you could get your rocks off."

Lewis smirks, "Look at that, caught a flight to you this time." And he's bending down and smearing his mouth against hers. He dominates the kiss, his large hand on her jaw keeping her in place for him to use her mouth as he pleases. "Mhmm." he groans pulling away. 

"Wanna stay with you here all day, Clem. But I've got a flight to catch." 

He is standing and bending over to press one last unexpected peck to her mouth and then her temple before he is at the end of the bed and latching onto his suitcase. 

"The keys on the table, okay? Go back to sleep, and order yourself some food for me when you wake up. And text me, okay?"

Clem sits up, still mind-boggled from the kiss, and nods her head. 

Lewis smiles, sending her a wave and easing out of the door.

Clementine nearly screams as the door clicks shut, and she hears his footsteps getting farther away.

Casually kissing wasn't a thing between them. Lewis was sweet, yes, but not once has he sat and caressed her and spoken so softly to her. She had never spent the night with him or fell asleep in his arms. And here he was, flipping her entire world upside down and telling her not to make it weird.

It's what she repeats to herself over and over throughout the day as the tender moments with Lewis replay in her head. 

He was just being a friend, of course he would show up to support her, right? Of course he wouldn't want her to be on the road late at night or extra early in the morning? And they've kissed before, only during sex but maybe he was wound up in the moment, they were friends with added benefits, did those benefits now include impromptu kisses?

She groans as she checks out from his room and hobbles into the waiting SUV where her assistant waits with her packed bags. "You had a time last night." SK teases as he takes in his boss' disheveled appearance. 

"Shut up." Clem grunts, buckling herself in. 

SK raises his hands in surrender and then gets back to typing away on his phone. Clem lets her forehead drop against the window as she drives through the beautiful French city. 

"Hey, SK?" When he lets out a noise to signal he's listening, she asks him for a favor. "If I asked you to find something for me and get it sent to Monaco, do you think you could get it there before the end of the week?"

SK smacks his teeth, "Girl, please, do you know who you're talking to? I could have it there tomorrow."

"You're the best, SK." she smiles.

"Don't I know it. What is it you need me to get my hands on."

-

Sure enough, the next morning, Lewis is interrupted by a knock on his door as he clips on his jewelry. 

He saunters over to the door his pants hung low and shirtless, swinging open the door to reveal the butler that the hotel provided. When his eyes travel south he see's the luxurious gift box in his hands.

"For you, Sir Hamilton. Delivered early today, pre-approved by your assistant."

Lewis thanks the man, motioning for him to hold still for a second as he rushes to retrieve some hefty bills from his wallet. 

He pulls the box from his outstretched hand and replaces it with the bills.

When Lewis closes the door and saunters over to the couch, he plops down and sets the box on the coffee table.

He pulls the stock card from underneath the black ribbon and smiles as he reads over it.

thank you for showing up for me, and congrats on yet another win.

- 🍊

He smiles and taps the card against the box a few times before deciding to open it. He lets out a surprised squawk as he lifts the lid and sees a packaged vintage Big Homer super buggy.

Lewis covers his mouth with his hands stuck between letting out a scream that would resemble a child on christmas day or a cry.

Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.

He pulls out his phone, snaps a picture of the gift, and sends it to her.

-

#lewis hamilton x black fem oc #formula 1 #lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton imagine #poc reader #f1 #black reader #black reader friendly #black female oc

[krirebr]

So, I've been going back and forth about sharing this here but it's really been dominating my thoughts for the last two days, and while I've talked about it a lot with friends, I'm hoping that writing everything down will help me process things. And maybe other people, especially aspec people might be able to relate.

I mentioned on Wednesday that I'd had a really terrible evening that had really shaken and upset me. Below the cut, I want to share what happened.

TWs for references to depression, aphobia, exclusionism, and bad therapy (there's probably a better word for it but I'm not sure what it would be.)

So some of you know that I started this year with a pretty intense depressive episode. It was bad enough that I had to take a leave of absence from work and pretty much spent that whole time crying in bed. It's taken a lot of work over the last few months to get myself back to a more stable place. A big part of that work has been regularly going to therapy.

I went to therapy on and off as a kid and in college, but not at all since then. All of my previous therapeutic experience was long before I came out as aroace. There's a long, ongoing history of aspec identities being medicalized and pathologized and that's something I was very aware of while looking for a therapist this time around. But I was also really desperate for help. So I chose as wisely as I could and crossed my fingers.

I chose a queer therapist who specialized in LGBTQ issues. I told them I was aroace in my first session and while they didn't seem very familiar at all, they also didn't make me overly explain myself or want to focus on that rather than the very real and urgent issues I had come to them for, which is what I'd been most worried about.

As I continued to meet with them weekly, they would sometimes ask questions about it, and while it was pretty clear they didn't really get it, they were respectful about it and it wasn't interfering with the help I actually needed.

That brings me to my appointment this Wednesday. I didn't have anything really pressing to discuss so they asked about my plans for the week and I mentioned that I was getting my hair cut and I was excited because I've been feeling lately like my hair is really hetero (I use that word instead of straight because my hair is so, so curly 😂) and I was looking forward to having queer hair again. They stopped. "Wait," they said, "I'm confused. Why did you use that word to describe yourself?" It had never occurred to them that aspec identities would be considered part of the queer community. They, in fact, had an incredibly narrow definition of the word queer - gay, just gay. And they didn't consider asexuality or aromanticism to be orientations at all.

My memories of the following conversation are pretty jumbled, but some highlights included such chestnuts as "What if you meet the right person one day?", asserting that the A in LGBTQIA+ stands for ally, there has to be a sexual component to romantic relationships, and "everyone has to have attraction, humans are sexual beings." They also said that we should dig into my childhood going forward because they were sure there was something there that caused this. I had a pretty traumatic middle school experience (bullying and some psychosomatic stuff that stemmed from that) and they were pretty eager to blame all that for this.

I became increasingly defensive and combative as this conversation went on (which if you know me, isn't like me at all). It ended with us both feeling very bad and uncomfortable.

I think they kind of came around a little bit by the end. They seemed open to educating themselves and even sent me a link to an article they'd found after our session. And that's great, I guess? But the whole thing made me want to crawl out of my skin. I cried a lot when I got home.

I'm not exactly sure what to do from here. My initial plan was to go next week, talk through what happened, offer some context for why I had gotten so defensive, and discuss together whether this was going to be a good long-term fit. But that's feeling less and less likely the more I think about it (I haven't been able to stop thinking about it). This is just such a big part of who I am. And it's a part of myself that I like and am proud of! And I just can't imagine a situation where I would ever feel safe talking about this aspect of my life with them. And I don't really want therapy where I'm constantly having to censor myself. So do I even go to my next appointment? I really don't know.

I know there's a lot of hopelessness in the aspec community around getting mental health care and I really don't want to add to that. I don't want to believe that we can't get help for our actual issues without mental health professionals just wanting to fix things that don't actually need to be fixed. And I hope that's not the moral or ultimate outcome of this story. I've talked to my very lovely network of queer friends and several of them have already said that they'll reach out to their contacts to find some recommendations for me. I deserve to get the help that I need in a space that is actually safe. And my need isn't as urgent as I was. I can take my time now to find someone I'm fully comfortable with.

I'm not sure exactly why I shared this. I don't always get so personal on here. And some of you have already heard it (thank you for being such good friends, seriously). But it's just been festering inside of me for the past two days and I really needed to share it. Thank you for listening.

#kris gets personal #vent post #kris rambles #asexuality #tw aphobia #therapy #bad therapy

[moechies]

morning sex w satoru + sugu (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵) cw boys kissing

light peeks through the cracks of the curtains, painting both your skins with gentle streaks of golden yellow.

your boyfriend’s head hovers in the crook of your shoulder, short soft strands of his hair tickling your face and neck;

his thrusts are sloppy, yet deep, brushing over every little crevice of your sweet cunt. a thin layer of slick covers you and himself, low noises of ‘pap pap pap’ that can be heard every time you feel him slide in and out of you.

“satoru.. feels s’good..” you whimper out with a wanton moan, eyes fluttering shut with a weak grasp on his bicep.

he hovers over you, not allowing you to see over his huge body.

“know it does, baby. sweet cunt was made to take me, hm?” his voice rasps next to the shell of your ear; it tickles.

lost in your pleasure, you seem to miss the small noise; a ‘click!’ that comes from opening the front door to your shared home. but even with the sweet moans that spill from your mouth, and the soft creaks of your moving mattress, he seems to hear..

he slows his pace, causing you to elicit a whine with a small scowl,

“huh? wh-what did i do..? why’d you st-stop..?”

“no princess,” he chuckles, “it isn’t you. suguru’s here.”

“w-what? i didn’t hear anything.. s’okay ‘toru.. jus’ keep going.. please.?”

before he can argue back, a creak comes from your doorknob, evident enough to have you both turning your heads to the door,

“mornin’,”

your boyfriend’s best friend stands leniently against the doorframe, left hand holding 2 small bags of a type of pastry. you lay back down below your boyfriend, tugging the thick blanket over your body and over your head in a panic,

“suguru.. what are you doin’ here?” satoru asks, a question with almost no intent of asking him to leave. “brought you two lovebirds some sweets and coffee, but looks like you guys had other plans..”

the room silences, and you pull down the sheets in hopes that suguru has left, fully expecting to re face your boyfriend;

“hey darlin’,” suguru greets above you.

your face has never reddened faster, hands desperately searching for a grip on the blanket before pulling it over your face again; but this time it’s stopped by a big, warm hand.

“don’t be shy.. your boyfriend’s right here, what’s there to be so scared of, hm?” he taunts, a small smile at the way your face flushes in embarrassment, turning your head to shoot another mean scowl at your teasing boyfriend.

“i-i.. s-sorry suguru.. t-this is probably w-weird.. m-m sorry..”

you can’t look him in the eyes, but you feel your body getting warmer whilst being the main attraction of the 2 men above you.

“nothing’s weird, don’t you think?” he teases again, a small pout at your boyfriend’s giggle.

“anyways, i gotta be on my way. let me give you a kiss goodbye, yeah?”

you look at your boyfriend in a panic, eyes pacing back and forth, looking for anything on his face that hints for what you should say.

gojo can’t help but smile at your fawn-like innocence and worried eyes much like a deer in headlights , waiting for you to take initiative.

“n-no.. do-don’t wanna. satoru would never want me to do that.. ‘nd i don’t wanna.” you whimper, hiding in the chest of your boyfriend.

now suguru pouts, an almost comical sight to satoru. he lets out a small chuckle,

“it’s okay princess. give suguru a kiss.”

you look at your boyfriend with a questionable stare, silently questioning the strange approval. his eyes sparkle of nothing but love for you, not a single bit of faux intention, nor jealously.

his best friend wastes no time pressing his soft lips onto yours, eyes agape before slowly melting into the palm of his hand. your boyfriend brings a hand to stroke the soft of your cheek, whispers of ‘good girl,’ as you lose yourself in his best friends mouth.

suguru pulls away with a ‘pop!’ wiping his spit covered mouth with the back of his hand with a laugh,

“desperate little girl.”

satoru only laughs at the comment, turning his head to meet suguru’s, in which they press their lips against each other as well; swapping spit between all three of you guys.

“h-hey.. th-that’s my boyfriend..” you whimper, attempting to claim your boyfriend back. suguru only chuckles before pulling away,

“sorryyy princess, you can have him back.” he says, having you pull him back quickly with a huff, hiding your body against his as you shoot geto a mean glare.

“hey.. ‘s okay if you do it, but not me?” gojo teases, a light flush coming across your face.

geto laughs again, turning himself toward the door, “alright, i’m really off now.” he raises a hand, signaling a goodbye before pulling the door closed with a slight crack,

“and hey, you two need to shut up.. neighbors are complaining to me again.”

#jjk #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #satoru fluff #gojo fluff #geto fluff #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo jjk #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #getou x reader

[brainwormcity]

I've seen people remark on how awkward the 1967 scene is and that is so frustrating because, for me, it is one of the most emotionally resonant flashbacks in the entire series. It is so multifaceted and ripe with implication and that assertion is baffling. As though just because this conversation appears to be hard for them, it must mean that there has to be some sense of weirdness or awkwardness between them?

This scene feeds heavily into my theory that 1941 ended in some sort of aborted romantic moment between the two, most likely initiated by Crowley. Aziraphale can barely stand to look at Crowley because the very first moment he looks him in the face, he can't stop himself from giving him this hooded eyes, barely contained look of longing.

The next thing we see is Aziraphale immediately launching into a statement about his fear for Crowley's existence that is as brutally sincere as it is heartrending. His eyes are wide, his voice is heavy with emotion, and it's clear that he is terrified beyond belief to lose Crowley. Even as he acquiesces and gives him the holy water, you can see that he wants to take it back and deny him it all over again.

Then, of course, Crowley asks if he can give him a lift, which is definitely something that they both know is a totally different question than what lies on the surface, given that they're mere feet from the bookshop and at first Crowley frowns so deeply that it's almost cartoonish but a moment after Aziraphale turns him down you get this glimpse of very real sadness:

Aziraphale sees it for what it is and in an attempt to comfort him, without being able to do what currently seems impossible to him, shares a fanciful but resigned fantasy about spending time together unbothered and unrestrained, all to the tune of these tight little, loving smiles:

When he asks again, you can just see Crowley's desperation for Aziraphale not to go. It's hard to say how long they'd been apart, but it's safe to say that for them, that previous interaction likely is very fresh in their minds.

Aziraphale has always been more fearful than Crowley when it comes to their feelings for each other. You could even potentially look at the holy water as a metaphor for their relationship. In his expressions of concern about The Arrangement, Aziraphale has always been remarking on how Crowley could be destroyed, similarly to his words here. So when he's telling him, "You go too fast for me, Crowley," what he's really saying is, "I'm terribly afraid and I'm not ready to take that step if it means that I could lose you." And it's plain to see by the wistful look on his face that it pains him greatly to say it:

The scene so quickly cuts to Crowley looking intensely at the holy water after Aziraphale has left the car (as if trying to convince you that that was the real point of the scene) that it's easy to miss this devastated expression on Crowley's face:

There's no look of perceived rejection on his face. Just a somber look of resignation. There are so many barriers in front of them, and I think that Crowley was willing to risk it but understood that Aziraphale wasn't ready to.

This is the most honest and laid bare we ever see these two be when it comes to their emotions. There's so much being said without being said and even their actual words (i.e. Crowley remembering exactly the amount of time when the 'fraternizing' conversation happened) are so full of emotion that it might even be a bit hard for some people to watch.

It's not awkward. It's just that the scene is just so incredibly earnest and heavy with coded language that it's easy to be swept up by the fact that the two aren't engaged in their typical banter and bickering. What we truly have here is an incredibly difficult and loving conversation between two people who are stuck in a seemingly impossible situation.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #michael sheen #david tennant #good omens meta #abel talks meta #good omens through the ages #good omens 1967 #signed by an autistic pwBPD with a penchant for over-analyizing tone and body language #anthony j crowley #you go too fast for me crowley

[cordyce]

ao’nung is frustrated.

at least, that’s what you’ve deduced from watching him sharpen his knife for the past ten minutes straight. if he keeps going, it might get as thin as a wish bone; threatening to snap at the slightest bit of pressure. as much as you’d find amusement in the sight of that, you’d rather not be in the crossfire when it happens.

“what’s got you caught in its net?” you ask, finally, as you drop the gear you’ve been mending while ao’nung simmers.

“funny,” he mutters, but mirth is not something found in his tone. another scrape, another grating. he does not look over at you.

“i know. i’m the funniest person alive. you should be grateful you have the opportunity to bask in my presence.”

it’s a ploy—a tease. like waving fresh bait in front of a young ilu but never tossing it into the water for them to eat. your tactic with ao’nung is always the same. push and pull and prod just enough that he bites back with less venom and more demure. because sarcasm is better than spite, in all regards.

except now, he doesn’t take it. now, he simply keeps his head tucked down, his lips pressed in a hard line. whittling at his knife and spouting invisible steam out of his ears.

you stand up, make your way over to him and bend slightly at the waist to slide your hands along his sloped shoulders. his muscles go taut—just a bit—at the initial contact of your palms, but relax a second later. not to their resting state, no, but leaving the field of caught off guard at the very least. you hum, lean down further as you dip your hands over his clavicles, across the upper half of his sternum.

“what is wrong, ao‘nung?” its sincere, this time. your question. because despite the dynamic between the two of you, you really do care—jokes and jabs aside.

this silence is different. you can tell by the twitch of his ears that he’s thinking; mulling something over on his tongue before he decides whether to spit it out or swallow it down. you can never guess which one it will be, not with him. he acts on whims, never strategy. there is no speculating his next move, so you simply don’t try to.

“there has been talk among the reef.” it’s all he says; all he gives. such a shell of a man, forcing you to pry open his jaws to reach the pearl within.

it is good that you’ve always been so skilled with your hands.

“there is always talk among the reef,” you chuckle, begin to fiddle with the necklace that’s strung around his neck. hooking your chin over the top of his head, you look down to watch as he grinds his knife once again. “you know they like to keep their minds busy with silly things.”

“it isn’t a silly thing.”

“oh? then tell me, what is so dire that it could have the great ao’nung this tense, hm?”

his hands falter for the first time, a pause in his rhythmic grazing. your brows furrow at that, create a hairline crease in the middle that only smooths out as he resumes his motions. scrape, scrape, scrape again. it’s like he’s doing it in sync with his heart. if you shifted your hand over just a tad, you suppose you could test that theory.

“it is talk of you.”

quiet. a mere grumble under his breath. if you were not leaned over him like this you would not have even heard him. such an odd twinge to his tone; laced with something you can’t quite decipher. can’t quite pick up on. it isn’t necessarily anger, but something flirting along the lines of it.

“me? don’t tell me you have went around spreading rumors that i am possessed by eywa’s evil sister again. i thought you stopped that when we were kids.” you laugh through it, because the jagged edges of his timbre are making your fingers itch. “you’re going to ruin my reputation.”

he scoffs. condescending, dismissive. normally you’d take that as a good sign; a call back to his regular grating demeanor. at this specific moment, however, you find annoyance in it.

“your reputation is fine,” he tilts, gives a particularly harsh press of his knife that makes you think this just might be the time where it snaps. miraculously, it doesn’t. “so completely fine.”

“then what could they possibly find reason to speak of me for?” you press, rubbing your thumb over the cord of his necklace, twisting it around your fingers. “i have not caused any trouble lately. haven’t set fire to any maruis. why, there’s nothing that i can think of that could possibly warrant—“

“they speak of your lack of mate.”

his hands are working harder, less refined. jaw clenching, deltoids growing stiff below you. it’s all starting to air itself out, his jaws have cracked open just enough that you can finally see the pretty pink pearl that rests on the bed of his tongue. but it is not enough, not yet.

“then all they speak is the truth,” you shrug over him, keep your gaze locked on his movements. you want to be sure, before you jump to the assumptions that are creating hurdles in your mind. “there is no harm in speaking of public knowledge.”

“they—“ he hitches, twists his face up like his next words are sour on his tastebuds, “they are voicing their thoughts on potentials for you. they think.. rotxo is the best option.”

“oh, yes. rotxo would be a fine potential mate.”

and, ah. there it is. the coup de grace.

ao’nung snaps his head around towards you so fast you hardly have time to lean back to avoid getting smacked in the chin by his skull. there’s a fissure between his brows, his eyes have widened past the aggravated slits they were before. his mouth is cracked open in disbelief, of the fact that you agreed with him or another matter, you aren’t sure. either way, it is clear now what has been getting under the heir’s skin.

he's jealous. and you can't help but find that the slightest bit amusing. it's not often you have ao'nung in the palm of your hand like this; akin to a bug squirming under the pad of your thumb with no clear route of escape. you think you can play this up, just a little.

"you do not think that," he states, like he needs to speak it into existence. like if he says it then it will ring true, change your mind.

(he doesn't need to change your mind, but he doesn't need to know that right now).

"why would i not?" you hum, tip your head like you're truly contemplating it. "he is sweet. has a tender heart. and he is always so quick to help me. he doesn't even complain. i think taking him as a mate would be a good decision."

"the only thing good about rotxo is his hair," ao'nung spouts, rolls his eyes at you as his face fills up with indignation. "stupid, pretty boy goody two shoes."

"oh, you're right! and he's nice to look at," you agree, nod your head right along with it, "how could i forget?"

his cheek dips; he's sucking it in between his teeth. you've really done it, you think. setting him off has never been so easy. sure, it’s never too hard to get him riled up in the middle of a bickering match. but like this? aggravated over, what, exactly? the thought of you with someone else?

maybe you’re enjoying this a bit too much.

“he is not your type.” a bold proclamation, ao’nung spits out. grasping for straws; searching blindly. “you would not go well with him.”

“i think he is my type, actually,” you dispute, and he’s stopped all his movements now. knife long forgotten as he seethes over every word you speak. “kind. loyal. good morals. easy on the eyes. yes, definitely my type. that checks off the list.”

he purses his lips, knots up his brows. “that cannot be the list.”

“no?” you peruse, play into him. he makes this too easy, really. “what do you think is on the list, then? moody? messy? long hair? a tendency to be mouthy? being the chief’s son?”

that earns you a shove off of him; a click for him to realize you’ve been fucking with him this entire time. biting back your shit eating grin would be impossible so you don’t even try to. nor do you stop the laughter that bubbles out of you as he goes back to his knife work and curses you under his breath.

you reach for him again except this time you walk around until you’re in front of him. one hand on his shoulder, you lean down to shove the knife and sharpener out of his hands and plop yourself right into the slot his crossed legs have made. his gaze is narrowed at you, his lips jutted. you simply smile—innocent, sweet—as you slide your hands around to cup the nape of his neck.

“i don’t think rotxo could handle me,” you murmur, sickeningly saccharine in such a direct contrast from seconds before. ao’nung doesn’t budge. “and the good ones are always so boring. if he was my mate, when would i ever get the chance to get up to trouble?”

“you are trouble,” ao’nung scoffs; acting annoyed, fed up. but his hands give him away as they meet the dimples of your lower back, as they slide up your spine to hold you secure so you don’t fall backwards.

his facade of pretending to not care has never been too full proof. there’s been cracks in that glass since day one.

“your trouble,” you grin. your fingers begin to draw circles along the back of his neck, tease at his hairline. “you made me this way, you know.”

“i made you nothing,” he rebuts. “you are the one who always comes up with the pesky ideas that get us scolded.”

“ah, you’re right,” you agree with a faux sigh. “humor and brains. i guess i’m the funniest and smartest person alive. truly, you should be honored.”

ao’nung rolls his eyes, peels his hands off of you. “forget ability, i do not wish to handle you now. rotxo can have you, for all i care.”

“oh?” you quirk, begin to stand up. “should i go see what he is up to—“

“sit,” ao’nung orders before you can rise no more than a few inches off of his lap; hands gripping your waist to tug you back down. the playfulness drains from his eyes, that annoyance—jealousy—flashes across sea foam irises for just a moment. “you are not funny.”

you bite the edge of your lip, making your grin turn slanted. he is so fun to tease, to toss around. his palms are warm on the dip of your waist. sliding your hands further back, you skim your finger along the side of the braid encasing his queue. faint, light. he tries to hide the shiver it causes but you pick up on it regardless. and that only makes you grin wider.

“they will speak of me until i choose a mate,” you hum as you lean closer to him, minimize the distance between your faces. “rotxo is not the only name that will be paired with mine. they all like to place their bets, you know.”

“their bets are stupid,” ao’nung mutters; gruff and rumbling out of his chest as his attention flickers, falters, the closer you get.

being this close is nothing new. being this touchy is nothing new, either. but it’s almost like your skin is buzzing, your energies feeding off one another in the moment that sends you tumbling into a smug streak. or maybe, that’s just the power ao’nung holds over you and you’re scared to admit it.

“you only think they’re stupid because your name is being outnumbered in the betting pool.” maybe that’s a little mean, but it’s fun. your fingertips are heavier now, more directed as you trace the divots of his braid with one hand and gauge the rise and fall of his chest with the other. “if you were winning, would they be stupid then?”

“i am winning,” ao’nung conveys, so sure and lacking any sense of doubt in the slightest; a variance from a few moments before. and that, well, that actually makes you falter—for just a second.

“and how do you figure that?” you mumble out the question into the minute slot between the two of you. bated and breathy.

ao’nung hooks an arm around your waist, his other hand sliding up to grip the hinge of your jaw. not harsh, not rough, but firm. cradling you carefully but securely; solidly. your breath hitches, your fingers pause on their skimming across his queue encasing.

“because i am the only one who gets to do this,” he says. blunt and honest and certain as he closes the gap severing you.

he kisses you full and deep and warm. he kisses you like he has not eaten in days and you are the one thing that can sate his hunger. he kisses you like the ocean kisses the shore; yearning and all consuming, and rushing back once more as soon as their lips must part.

and he does; chase your lips as you pull back to catch your breath. places one, two, three pecks there before he deems it a safe retreat. his eyes are lidded, but no longer from frustration. that signature crooked, haughty smirk of his is curved into his pale lips. and instead of smacking it off, you’re considering how many more kisses it would take to wipe it away.

“oh yeah,” he chuckles, lips brushing over yours as he’s already leaning in again. “so winning.”

and you can’t help but agree.

likes & reblogs appreciated !

#i love him your honor #this is probably like. wildly ooc #LMAO #but pls enjoy it anyways bc he’s sooooooo >.< #ugh he’s babygirl fr !!! #ao’nung x reader #aonung x reader #ao’nung x you #aonung x you #ao’nung drabble #aonung drabble #avatar x reader #atwow x reader #atwow ao'nung

[imagine-knowing-a-name]

Spies and Secrets

Summary: Natasha has never met her handler, she couldn’t give you their name or identify their face because she doesn’t know it. When she rants about this to you, her wife, you have to laugh... because you are her handler.

Word Count: 2048

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, lying in the relationship (not in a bad way, just in a spy way), but otherwise it’s just fluff!

A/N: I went back and wrote this idea since it seemed semi-popular. Hope you enjoy :)

»»————-　★　————-««

"Will you finally tell me who they are?"

"This again, Romanoff?"

"Just a first name?"

Fury sighs to make his vexation clear, but that's not enough to dissuade Natasha; she remains determined as ever in her mission and smirks boldly in the face of her exasperated boss.

"Just an initial will get me off your back," the spy continues through his silence.

Fury scoffs and Natasha knows she needs a different approach.

"If it's you, you can just say, Sir."

"Me? You must be losing your touch if you think I have the time for that, Romanoff. Should Hill be taking your next mission?"

Natasha stops and stares with faux hurt while Fury continues on, grinning to his own amusement. He wasn't going to let her keep the upper hand for long.

"If you want to know, ask them yourself!" Fury calls over his shoulder, "Mission debrief. C12-2. 10 minutes. They won't tell you though; above your clearance!"

Natasha groans. As much as she hadn't expected a substantial answer from Fury – she'd been asking him the same question for years – she thought she might be getting somewhere, but no matter which trick she tries, Fury doesn't budge.

On top of that, he'd reminded her that it wasn't home time yet, her mission isn't over until she's briefed her mysterious handler. So Natasha sighs and makes her way to the conference room, still wondering why only her handler chose to shroud themself in mystery. All the other agents meet theirs directly, while Natasha sits in a room alone, waiting for a shadowy silhouette to call in.

The first few years went by without a comment – it wasn't her place to ask – but as she rose the ranks and found her role, her handler, too, remained just above her clearance. Even now, as one of the highest ranking agents, her handler was higher still. Curiosity built like a dripping tap; manageable and menial to start, only to provoke greater displeasure the longer it went on.

"Hi Agent!" the disembodied voice crackles through the speakers. That's the other thing driving Natasha towards irritation, her handler's tone. It's nothing like Fury's commanding orations. No, her handler speaks with an eagerness and informality reminiscent of a junior agent meeting their hero, rather than the commanding officer that they are, and have been, since Natasha first joined SHIELD almost a decade ago.

"Officer." Natasha replies. She had never been told her handler's surname, or even a title she could use to address them. Any attempts she made to learn had been properly shut down, forcing her to stick with the appellation of Case Officer.

"Always so formal," her handler laughs. "As far as I'm aware, the mission was successful, so what's got you so grumpy today?" they continue, noticing an uncharacteristic clarity to Natasha's mood that day.

"If you told me your name, I wouldn't have to be so formal, would I?" the spy snaps back. "And I'm not grumpy."

"Natasha, we've worked together for nearly 10 years now. I know when you're grumpy, and I can throw in an educated guess that my identity is the cause?"

"I've spent my life working in secret," Natasha shrugs, then pauses in search of the right words. "I'm well accustomed to dubious legalities and taking orders from the shadows. I'm also well aware that I would be a risk to security from the moment I joined until I gained the trust of this organisation, so I understood your secrecy."

Natasha stops again, noticing the silhouette begin to fidget; whether out of boredom or discomfort, the assassin can tell the time is right to make her final argument.

"We've worked together on hundreds of missions over this past decade, enough for you to know every detail of my life and mind, while I still know nothing about you. Have you thought about how that might hurt, officer? because it does! to believe I still haven't gained your trust after all this time. That hurts."

The room stills to a silence as fragile as Natasha felt. Her handler's reaction would dictate the situation; any information given could redefine the relationship between the two spies, just as another brush off would leave Natasha spiralling further into this curiosity.

A sigh finally echoes through the speakers; its long pause circling the sole inhabitant of the room. "It's above your clearance," the voice admits. Natasha slumps; she should have known better. "But-" The speed at which Natasha perks up draws out a small chuckle from her handler, before they continue with an audible smile, "I'll talk to Fury. See what I can reveal."

Natasha settles in her seat, unable to keep the broad smile from her face. "I do trust you, Romanoff, I hope you know that… I just don't think I'll be who you expect."

As a trained spy, Natasha wouldn't let that last line slide, immediately thinking of its hidden meaning. But before she can ask further questions, her handler clears their throat. "I think it's time we actually start the mission debrief."

»»————-　★　————-««

Natasha can't wait for the meeting to end. She understands the need – giving her side of the story, answering questions, sharing the intelligence she'd gained – but it drags on without incident and without any further comments on her handler's identity, so she'd much rather be at home. 

What reason was there for her not to do this from home? Her handler calls in from wherever they are, so realistically, Natasha could also pick up from wherever she is. Ideally at home, after a relaxing shower and a little time with her wife. Natasha supposes that's where the issue may lie: you, her wife, who has been led to believe Natasha is a security guard and nothing more. If you overheard a debrief, not only would SHIELD's confidentiality be compromised, but you might never forgive her lies. Natasha's home office was soundproofed though and, because of that, the assassin would take the risk if it means extra time with you.

Throughout Natasha's homeward journey and all through the mission debrief, you are the only thing to occupy her mind. Her mission finished in late afternoon, so she had planned how she would surprise you and spend the evening together upon her return, but then the debrief cropped up, and by the time her key is in the door, the sun has long since set, leaving her to wonder if you're even still awake.

You are. Just about. Your pyjama clad figure appears in Natasha's sight and you rush down the stairs to meet her by the door.

"You're home!" You beam as you wrap your arms over her shoulders and take her cue for a kiss.

"I am."

"How was your mission?" you tease. You know how seriously she takes each assignment, always doing prep work in her office ahead of the trips; she treated them akin to a secret mission and you never missed your chance to rag her for it. 

One of your favourite methods of teasing is to liken her to James Bond, which only gets more realistic when you catch her mouthing along to the movie lines.

"Top secret. Can't tell you," your wife jokes back, her smile threatening to burst off her face.

"No injuries this time?"

"None at all."

"Good girl." She preens. "Have you had dinner?"

"Not yet, I came home as soon as I was done. Couldn't wait to see you."

"Sweet talker," you laugh and kiss her again, then take her by the hand, "I put some leftovers in the fridge, you clean up, then you can eat and share your 'top secret' thoughts."

The evening's plan formed just like that; you reheat the noodle dish while Natasha takes a shower, before the two of you come back together to sit at the dinner table.

"So, how was it really?" you ask her.

"The job itself was alright, no problem." Natasha replies, but by the way she's stabbing the noodles with her fork, you can tell something else is coming. "But my bosses…they just won't tell me all the information. Say it's 'above my clearance'."

"The cheek of them."

"Don't mock me."

"I'm not, I'm not! I promise, love," you say, though you can't hide your barely contained laughter thanks to the prominent pout on your wife's face. You school your face back into an expression of neutrality before you talk again, "that sounds annoying. Do you need this information?"

"No," she sighs, "it's just a matter of trust."

"Well, you must be working with idiots for them not to trust you after all this time."

"Mm, you reckon I should tell that to them?"

"You definitely should."

The smile comes back to Natasha's face as she shakes her head, "you're going to get me fired, sweetheart."

"You're too good for them to do that. Just keep it up, you're going to be leading them one day, I'm sure of it. Then all the secrets are yours."

»»————-　★　————-««

Another week, another mission. And with another mission comes another mission debrief. Natasha asked for her handler's identity three weeks ago and still knows nothing more. With how poorly her recent mission went, she doesn't even feel like asking the question again.

"What went wrong, Romanoff?" that same anonymous figure asks her, and Natasha can only groan: what didn't go wrong?

"We were ambushed to start with; whoever gave us the heads up got their information wrong, or someone sold us out. Either way, the plan went to shit the moment we arrived and the team went to shit by throwing mole accusations around. Splitting up only made it worse; nobody trusted their teammates to do their parts and it resulted in a mad scramble. My orders were ignored, but my team members were injured and I take full responsibility."

"That won't be necessary, Agent," the voice hums, "as leader, the responsibility falls on you, yes, but it is each agent's responsibility to trust in you and follow your plan, and you will not be faulted for working with idiots who don't trust you."

Natasha starts to defend her team, before the familiarity of the phrase has her searching through her mind for a recollection. What she does remember is a long shot, but she'll lose nothing by asking.

"Do you have a wife, Officer?"

"I do," they reply.

"Is she a redhead?"

"She is."

"Works for SHIELD?"

"Why, it's almost like you know her," the handler goades. If one had an illustrated list of all of SHIELD's employees, they would know that the short game of 'guess who' still left a couple dozen potential employees in the running, but the teasing and testing tone is the final clue Natasha needs to make her assumption.

"Y/N/N?"

"Hey love," you reply, with as much adoration as you can muster, glad to finally be rid of the voice modulator while you talked to your wife.

In front of Natasha, the screen flickers before the silhouette that had become so familiar to her is replaced by another familiar sight in another familiar location: the smiling face of her wife…in her office.

Natasha's face falls at once, striking you with panic that this wouldn't be the gleeful revelation that you'd expected; that is, until the assassin speaks again. "Is that my desk?"

"It's your whole office, my love. I'm not taking these calls from our bedroom."

"Is that why it's sound proofed?"

"I gave the approval for that, if you remember, and it's certainly not because you're taking SHIELD calls at home; you haven't even had one while we've lived together!"

"That's because you organise it straight after the mission so I don't have time to go home!"

"Because that's where I am! you'd be suspicious otherwise."

Natasha falls silent for a moment. You know her well enough to leave her to her thoughts, only twiddling your thumbs as you watch her through the screen.

"So can I do debriefs at home now?"

"I don't see why not," you shrug, "remember I still have to take notes though, so I get the desk and no cuddling until after."

"No chance of that."

"Come back now, Romanoff, and we can put it to the test," you challenge.

She accepts. "I'll be there in 30."

"I know."

»»————-　★　————-««

Tagging: @supercorpdanbeau (since you mentioned you’d like to read it on the original post!)

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow x y/n #black widow x you #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #ikan writes

[sunsetsimon]

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

mentions of ptsd, abuse, torture, touch aversion, nightmares

always remember, you are loved and cared for. reach out if you need help, i am always here to provide resources. you are not alone, do not go through this alone.

─────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────

☼ jealousy. it wasn't a feeling that simon felt often, and not in the ways most people experienced it, he could care less about any materialistic items. his jealousy would stir in his stomach when he saw people doing to them - normal things. a hug goodbye, holding hands, it was all foreign to him.

he's used to a playful punch from soap or a pat on the shoulder from price, but he never initiates. when you first get together, he's uncomfortable with physical affection and will often unintentionally shut you down. your hand will reach for his but he doesn't move, not even noticing you attempting to touch him. he won't hug you before he leaves, only giving a nod and heading out.

he knows it hurts you but it's hard.

slowly he works on it, giving a loving squeeze and reaching for your hand, but it's a long process before it becomes an unconscious habit.

☼ simon doesn't sleep much to begin with, but when it gets bad, he starts to have nightmares almost every night. they're intense, seeming to last forever, as if he'd lived days in the dream. his sleepy mumbling will turn into physical reactions, his body starting to twitch, fists clenching so hard his knuckles turn white. gasping awake he shoots up, his hand immediately on his gun and ready for combat. he's sweaty, heart beating so fast it seemed like it'd jump out of his chest.

"you okay, si?" you whisper from beside him, snapping him back to reality. simon takes a deep breath, setting his pistol back down on the nightstand, unable to speak. immediately you recognize it was another nightmare, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his back. his head drops into his hands, needing to take time to relearn what his reality is; he's home, he's with you.

but fuck, why doesn't it feel that way then? why is he haunted every time he closes his eyes?

"'m so tired," he mumbles, fighting back tears of frustration and pain, trying not to question what he did to deserve this hell he calls his own mind.

"i know si... i wish i could take it all away," you attempt to comfort him, but know that nothing you do could help him right now, he just needs time. he gives your arm a pat before standing up, leaving to take time for himself. you hear his footsteps trail down the stairs and a door open, simon deciding to retreat to the garage for the next few hours until he feels okay again.

☼ he wouldn’t ever tell you what actually happened to him, just making vague comments here and there when the opportunity arises. he's scared to talk about it, not wanting to remember anything or try to process it.

your soft fingers trail along the pale scars littered across his skin, wondering what must've happened to him, all the pain he's been through. you stop at a small one on his left wrist, "how'd you get this one?"

"my dad was a piece of shit," and he leaves it at that. you don't push any further, accepting the curt answer with a nod. you softly kiss the scar, beautiful eyes flickering to his. it's things like this that slowly heal him, and instead of thinking of the pain that came with each scar, he thinks of your lips kissing each one as if that'd make it all better. you make it all better.

#im so sad i love him so much #also on my period so feeling even worse #.wbm #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #angst

[jaylaxies]

KINKTOBER DAY 19 — SIZE KINK

PAIRING: jay x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cunnilingus, bulge kink, usage of nicknames.

WC: 0.8k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, angels! here’s my second kinktober fic! i hope you all enjoy reading this:3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

✎ kinktober masterlist

“Oh, baby. You’re so small, let me get that for you, hm?” 

You gasped when you found Jay standing right behind you, his hand easily reaching the shelf you were so desperately trying to reach from the past five minutes, the size difference evident. 

Jay had noticed just how small you looked next to him, how his hand engulfed yours, how his hugs were enough to hide your body from everyone, and how his cock barely ever fit inside your little cunt. 

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop on your conversation with your friends by any means, yet he just so happened to have gotten muffins for you guys, almost entering the room before he accidentally heard your conversation. 

“He is so fucking tall, he must love the size difference,” your friend spoke up. 

“No, but seriously, does he pick you up and throw you around too?” Another one asked and you simply nodded, your expression displayed just how proud you were of this setting. 

Jay entered the room before you could verbally answer though, and he hated the timing cause he wanted to know what exactly was it that you thought about the size difference. But more than that, the fact that you liked it lingered in his mind. 

Even more so now that you were trapped between him and the kitchen counter. 

You turned around with a smile, grabbing the container from Jay’s hand while also thanking him for the same but he didn’t move, which made you look up at him in question, his eyes fixated on you. 

“Jay?” You asked, gulping. 

The worry in your voice only added to his need to have his cock inside your tight little cunt, wanting his newfound kink to fully take over his desires and actions. 

He was quick to take the container of cookies from your hands, settling them down on the counter before his thick fingers held on to your chin, “I’m sorry, baby. I can’t wait anymore,” he groaned.

His hand travelled down to your neck, wrapping his fingers around it before pulling you into a kiss, eliciting a whine out of you. He kisses you hard, hard enough for your knees to give in. He only parted for a second to wrap his arms around your thighs, picking you up with ease and kissing you again. 

“So small, so sweet,” he mumbled, biting your lower lip while taking you to the bedroom, “look so pretty in my T-shirt.”

That was another factor which had him going crazy—how his T-shirt acted as a dress for you, covering your thighs and reaching your knees. Oh, you really drove him out of his mind. 

You didn’t mind it, in fact, you loved to see him initiating affection, however, you had never seen him this worked up before. He puts you down on the bed, his hands resting on your thighs, rubbing soothing circles on them as he takes a minute to stare at you, making you feel smaller than ever under his intense stare. 

“Please,” you whimper gently, trying to pull him closer by the collar, and he lets you wrap your legs around his waist, kissing you even deeper. 

He backs away only to pull his shirt off, and get rid of yours too, wasting no time in parting your legs and holding them in place as you drooled over his well defined body, epitome of perfection. 

You wail, breathing in deeply as Jay immerses himself in tasting your wet folds, lapping and licking as his strong hands held on to your thighs, hard enough to leave marks, you clutched the bed sheets to gain some kind of hold on yourself, the sensation of arousal kicking in. 

That’s exactly when Jay stopped, making you whimper, tears gathering in your eyes before he got rid of his pants, his thick length coming in view, tip red and leaking. 

“It won’t fit,” you found yourself breathing out, causing Jay to smirk. 

He came closer, resting his cock right above the point where you needed him, his length on your lower abdomen, your eyes widening when you saw how deep his cock would be in you, stomach tingling at his reply. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make it fit tonight.”

The feeling of his cock ramming in and out of your body had your toes curling, Jay thrusted harder each time, reaching deeper and deeper, his hand kept on your abdomen to feel the imprint of his cock on your skin. 

“Jay—fuck! Too big,” you cried out as he kissed your tears away. 

“You’re doing so good, baby. Just a little more, yeah?” He whispered, his cock breaching you, reaching the part no one’s ever reached before as he bottoms out, stretching you deliciously, your back arching as you convulse, making him groan, cock twitching inside you. 

“So fucking tiny,” he mumbled, and you moaned, “you like it, huh? Feeling so small, so delicate under me?” He asked and you nodded breathlessly, making him chuckle and fuck you harder. 

It was the first time you had fully taken his cock in, and he was going to make sure you feel it in you the whole night. 

THANK YOU FOR READING!

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#🎫 — kinktober! #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jay smut #enha smut #jongseong smut #kpop smut #jay hard hours #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #jay x reader #enhypen

[thelovelyruin]

𝖘𝖊𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖎𝖓.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : you’ve got a crush on choso, and he’s reading the signs.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : college au! smut, fluff, porn with plot, vaginal sex, oral sex, praise, teasing, overstimulation, fingering, edging?

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 4.7K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from see you again (rock mafia remix) by miley cyrus.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, here I am with another choso fic. thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

I got my sights set on you, and I'm ready to aim.

“And, this is Choso!”

Now, you couldn’t remember whose idea it was to go to the fair (probably Yuuji), but at this moment, you were too grateful. To think you were going to miss out on this because you would’ve instead worked on classwork that was due NEXT week. Mai begged you to take a break, and you agreed to go like a good best friend. And thankfully, you did, cause if not, you would’ve never met him.

I have a heart that will never be tamed.

Choso was a little awkward. Nervous, for sure, but he had that demeanor that told you he was a lot more chill when he gets comfortable. Now the question was, why wouldn’t he be comfortable? That was, of course, because he was meeting you. Nonetheless, his ambition drove him to initiate a conversation with you, putting his anxiety on the back burner and acting “normal.”

“So, you’re Mai’s friend?”

Obviously, you were. A blush crosses your face, giving an awkward smile before looking at Mai. She understood immediately, face lighting up a bit when she realized you had the hots for him. With a smirk, she looked at him.

“Uh, yeah! She’s my best friend, can’t you tell?”

Choso directed his attention at Mai, giving her a squinted look. Not that he didn’t appreciate her, but he was already having a hard time talking to you, and she definitely wasn’t making it easy.

“Well, now I do. Thanks for the clarification, ma’am.”

“No problem, sir.”

She jabbed his arm, causing him to chuckle. Looking back at you, he smiled a bit.

“Hopefully, you aren’t as crass as your friend here.”

“I try not to be.”

“Hey, what the hell does that mean?”

You were giggling now, loosening up as you realized there wasn’t much to be nervous about. Choso was just a normal guy, a really hot, normal guy. That didn’t stop you from tucking your hair behind your ear nervously, it was so damn obvious you were flustered, but Choso was none the wiser.

I knew you were something special when you spoke my name; now I can't wait to see you again.

“Hey Choso! We’re heading over to the rides.”

Yuuji was now walking over to you guys, patting Choso on the back. When he noticed you standing there with Mai, his face lit up with surprise.

“So, Mai got you to come out and play! You do magic on her or something?”

“NO, I DID NOT. You guys are assholes, she came out on her own volition!”

Now, you and Yuuji have known each other for a while, but he’s just as irritating now as he was when you met him freshman year.

“I thought it would be fun to relax a bit and decompress from studying.”

Choso perked up at your comment, grateful to have something, anything, to work off of.

"Oh wow, what're you studying?"

Almost instantly, everyone’s eyes were on Choso. Mai looked at him intently, mostly in shock. You looked at him more relaxed, prepared to have a normal conversation with him. But Yuuji, as oblivious as usual, did not catch on to Choso trying to make conversation with you.

“Well, as much fun as this little chat is, I’ll be stealing Choso now. Inumaki and the others are waiting for us so we can ride a few rides.”

With that, Yuuji was hauling Choso with him to somewhere in the fair. But what you did not expect was Choso looking back at you, giving you a little wave, then turning to tell off Yuuji.

I've got a way of knowing when something is right.

“So, your friend…”

Mai shot the water into the target, attempting to get one of those oversized stuffed animals for the past ten minutes. When she lost again, she slammed another 5-dollar bill on the counter, demanding another turn.

“Yeah, you talkin’ about Choso?”

The game reset and she went to town. Mai was deadlocked on the target with the precision of a sniper. But, 30 dollars later, she finally won. Cheering and practically ripping the stuffed dino off the rack, she looked at you with sparkles; she was so damn proud of herself. After that, you two decided to get some fair food.

“Yeah, him.”

Pointing to the funnel cake stand, Mai dragged you closely behind her; you were attempting to catch up as fast as possible. She quickly ordered you guys a funnel cake; of course, the two of you had to share.

“You like him? I can totally tell. You looked like you were a pot about to boil over.”

You start scoffing, laughing nervously as you feign offense to her comment. But she really wasn’t wrong.

“Yeah, well, YOU say that! Do you think he noticed?”

"Babe, he totally noticed. Choso isn't the type to say something though, so whether he did or didn't, the world may never know."

You grab the funnel cake from the window, finding a picnic table to set up base. Mai was giving you that look now, that one she gives when she has an idea, and that’s never good.

“What the hell are you-”

“You know, he’s single. Haven’t seen him talk to a girl since freshman year, and that wasn’t very long.”

“Shouldn’t that be a red flag? What if he’s an asshole?”

“Oh, he’s far from that. If anything, I just think he can’t get laid to save his life. BUT, then there’s you.”

You avert your eye contact with Mai to the floor, too embarrassed to look at her.

“Look, you don’t have anything to worry about with him. He’s a nice guy and I’m sure he’d treat you well, in more ways than one.”

She winks at you as you jab her on the shoulder. As much as you loved her, she could be a pain in the ass, but as she would say, ‘your pain in the ass.’ 

I feel like I must've known you in another life, cause I felt this deep connection when you looked in my eyes.

After finishing the funnel cake, you guys walk about the fair, looking for another game to play, that is, until a set of hands comes in front of Mai’s eyes.

“Guess who?”

“Yuuji, get your paws off my face or I’m gonna beat your ass.”

With a pout, he lowered his hands, sneering at her when she turned around. As you turn to face him, you see Choso standing beside him, already looking at you. Reacting to the eye contact, he awkwardly puts a hand behind his neck.

“Uh, hey.”

“Hi, um… how were the rides?”

“They were good until Megumi and Inumaki threw up, so Todo drove them back to the dorms.”

Yuuji then looks around you and Mai, a confused look on his face.

“What about you guys? Where’s everyone else, or did Mai scare them off?”

“Yuuji, you’re on thin ice. We came by ourselves, GIRL’S night out.”

“Well, me and Choso are doing the same, isn’t that right?”

Choso looked at Yuuji like he had two heads.

“You mean when you badgered me for an hour so I’d come with you guys? Boy’s night out, for sure.”

You chuckled at Choso’s rebuttal, which didn’t go unnoticed by Yuuji. From that, Yuuji looked at Mai, who looked at you, then at Choso, prompting Yuuji to do the same.

“Well, what’s a little get-together, am I right?”

“Weren’t you just adamant about the boy's night out thing?”

“Yes, Choso, I was, but I’ve had a change of heart. They'll be riding the rollercoaster with us, isn’t that right, Mai?”

You shoot a panicked look at Mai, and simultaneously, Choso shoots the same to Yuuji.

“Yeah, Yuuji. You’re right. Let’s head over now.”

You and Choso’s eyes met, quickly blushing and averting your gaze. In that moment, you knew you were, to put it simply, down bad.

Now I can't wait to see you again.

The last time I freaked out, I just kept looking down.

Now, rollercoasters weren’t usually your thing, but when Mai gave you that puppy dog look, you couldn’t tell her no. She and Yuuji ran to the gate, leaving you and Choso behind to walk there, neither of you as excited as your friends.

“Looks like it’s a two-seater. Well, Mai, I think we should ride together!”

“You know what, Yuuji? That’s a great idea.”

You yanked at Mai’s sleeve, meeting her wide smile. The fuck are you doing? you whispered to her, still smiling in an attempt to act normal. Helping you out, duh, she whispered back, gently removing your hand from her shirt. As the ride attendant opened the gate, Yuuji and Mai flew to the front seat, leaving you and Choso on the bay.

“Is there, uh, anywhere in particular you want to sit?”

“The middle to back is fine!

With that, Choso guided you to a seat, holding your hand to help you sit in the cart. He sat down softly as you frantically looked for the seatbelt.

“Here, let me help you with-”

He noticed the harness sat right on top of your chest, which, if he wasn’t blushing before, he was completely flustered now. You both waited awkwardly for the ride attendant to strap you in.

I st-st-stuttered when you asked me what I'm thinkin' 'bout.

Yuuji, extremely excited about the thrill of the ride, turned around and shot a thumbs-up at Choso. What did that mean? God, it was so obvious even Yuuji could tell. Or did Mai say something? They had been looking back and forth, which could be-

“Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

Well, you couldn't tell him the obvious answer, of course. You boggled your brain, trying to come up with a lie to say. But then he wrapped his arm behind your head, resting it on your neck. You were about to combust. You damn near shook with both anxiety AND rouse.

Felt like I couldn't breathe; you asked what's wrong with me.

“Somethin’ wrong? Sorry, I should’ve asked first.”

He began to retract his arm.

“No! I'm fine, you’re all good haha.”

You decided just to shut up and shoot him an awkward smile, preparing for the ride that began to take off.

“Good, can’t have you scared. Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.”

Oh, it was gonna be over soon, alright, because you were gonna pass out from the feeling of him bringing you into his chest.

The next time we hang out, I will redeem myself, my heart it can't rest 'til then.

You couldn’t get off that fuckin’ ride quick enough. You unbuckle yourself swiftly, running over to Mai, who was still talking to Yuuji.

“Hey there! How was the ride?”

“It was great, but I think we should really get going!”

She looked at you in concern, then at Choso walking up behind you guys, and then at Yuuji, who was confused per usual. Before Choso could walk up, you put your head down and walked down the bay, stopping at the ride's exit. 

“M’kay, bye!”

You were too embarrassed from getting all worked up over an arm; you couldn’t even face him. Mai stood there talking to both Yuuji and Choso, obviously upset, with Choso putting his hand up in a confused motion. God, this was torture. After a couple of minutes, Mai walked up to you, patting you on your back. And with that, you guys went back to your dorm.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again.

I got this crazy feelin' deep inside when you called and asked to see me tomorrow night.

You had just got in bed for the night, still coming down from the roller coaster, both the physical and emotional one. What were you doing? It was a perfect opportunity to talk to him, and you screwed it up. Now, he’s probably-

You’re interrupted from your thoughts by your phone ringing. You take it off the charger and turn down the brightness, reading the screen. A random number? This late? You almost declined the call, but then the asshole in you had the idea to answer and give the night caller a piece of your mind. You click the green button, putting your phone up to your ear, an arsenal of insults on standby.

“Who is this? You know it’s 11 p.m., right?”

“Oh, um, sorry. It’s Choso. Didn't realize it was so late, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Your heart dropped to your ass. Choso? How the hell did he get your number? Then, it struck you, when he and Mai talked on the bay. You shift your whole mood from threatening to weak in the knees.

“Oh, no, it’s fine! Sorry, thought you were a scam caller.”

“Yeah, I guess I could’ve texted you first. Happy you still accepted the call, though.”

“So, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to, uh, apologize for earlier. Wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable or anything like that.”

You began pacing around the room, trying to keep quiet and not wake Mai.

“Oh, no, I just, um, it was nothing, I was just, um…”

“I was nervous, too, to be honest. I mean, I was scared I blew my chances with you.”

You stalled your movements in disbelief at what you had just heard.

“I don’t think I, uh heard you right, could you-”

“Can I take you out tomorrow night?”

You had to turn off the mic; you couldn’t help but scream into your pillow. After gaining composure, you turned the mic back on.

“What did you have in mind?”

“How’s a movie? Yuuji said you wanted to watch that new one, Human Earthworm 3, I think?”

So, Yuuji had said something to him. To be fair, they were brothers, so that would happen eventually, but you felt something itch inside you at the thought of all the things Yuuji could have said.

“So, uh, is that a yes?”

“Oh! Um, yeah, I mean, yes, sure. What time?”

“Be ready at 6.”

You were about to begin jumping around like a goddamn maniac.

“Okay, got it.”

“Okay, see you, tomorrow, angel.”

Before he hung up the phone, you could hear Yuuji cheering in the background. What the actual fuck just happened. Like clockwork, Mai jumped up, smirking. She’d been awake this whole time.

“So, he had the balls to ask you! I wasn’t expecting that one.”

I'm not a mind reader, but I'm reading the sign that you can't wait to see me again.

Now, it’s not like you were super excited about the date or anything. Not when you started getting ready at 12 despite you needing to be ready at 6, or when you repainted your nails, or when you waxed yourself, or when you were asking Mai which outfit you should wear. 

“Trust me, whatever you wear, he’s gonna like it. He’s happy to even be dating you!”

She had a point.

“But Maiiiii, what if he doesn’t like these jeans?”

“Weren’t you wearing jeans when you met him?”

“Ugh, shut up!”

“Whatever ya want, sweetheart.”

You decided to just go for a black dress, which was pretty short, but, come to think of it, wasn’t really a bad idea. But then, what shoes were you gonna wear? Which purse would-

Your phone lit up, a text from Choso.

“Outside :)”

Shit, it was six already. You started to panic, looking for anything else you were missing. As you turn around, Mai’s holding a pair of sneakers and a purse to match. You squeal and kiss her on the cheek, rushing to put your sneakers on as you stumbled out the door.

The last time I freaked out, I just kept looking down.

As you walked down the stairs, you began freaking out. You were about to be alone with Choso for hours, which you were fucking ecstatic about, but you realized you didn’t have the balls for this. But then, you get a thought from Mai, ‘Get it together, bitch!’

Damn it, why was she always right??? Not wanting to make him wait any longer, you sucked it up and walked outside. Choso leaned against his car, wearing a basic black tee covered by an aviator jacket with a pair of cuffed jeans. Damn, he looked good. Little did you know, he was thinking the same about you. That little black dress had him staring, mind trying to picture what might be underneath. You walked up to him quickly, holding your purse awkwardly, noticing his gaze checking you out. 

“You look great.”

“Thanks, not too bad yourself.”

You had to contain yourself. Like who, me? You send him a flirty smile as he opens the car door for you, going under his arm to get in the seat.

“You smell damn good too.”

The movie was pretty okay; not like you were really paying attention, though. When you guys sat down in the movie, Choso expectedly draped his arm around you, pulling you close to lay on his chest. What really sent you over the edge was halfway through the movie, when he brought his arm lower, slinking it around your waist, hand resting on your hip. He was dangerously close to your ass, there was that fine, fine line, and he was skating on it, making sure not to move too much in case he did cross that line cause the last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable again. After what felt like a year, the movie was over, and people spilled out of the theatre, clearly a full house. You and Choso were stragglers, only a handful of people still sitting around, and when he noticed, he brought his arm back over, nearly making you cry at the retreat. 

I st-st-stuttered when you asked me what I'm thinkin' 'bout.

“How’d you like it?”

“It was okay, not as good as the first one. What about you?”

“I haven’t seen the other ones, but it was pretty good!”

Choso stood up, taking a big stretch after sitting for so long. Your eyes immediately caught the slight lift in his shirt, his v-line and lower abs flexed as he groaned a bit, and fuck, it sounded good. He brought his hand down, encouraging you to take it, pulling you up, and putting his hand back around your waist. He held it firm, guiding you out of the theater and back to the car, helping you inside. You were dreading the fact the date was coming to an end; you had to think of something to prolong-

Choso’s phone rings, Yuuji’s contact picture illuminating the screen. With a deep sigh, he answers it.

“What?”

“I take it you’re still out?”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“Well, bad news. I locked myself out of the room. Can you come here and let me in?”

“I’m on a date, motherfucker.”

“Oh yeah. Bring her with you!”

“Jesus Christ.”

Choso mutes the mic, looking at you. Now, you weren’t exactly looking forward to seeing Yuuji, but spending more time with Choso was your prerogative. You give him a nod and a smile, and his annoyance fades slightly. Unmuting the phone, he rolls his eyes.

“Be there in 10.”

“Thank youuuu!”

“Fuck off.”

The ride back to their dorm was pretty fast, but it was hard to think with Choso’s hand rubbing your thigh. Once again, skating on that fine line of nearly touching a little too far up your dress, but thankfully for the both of you, he had some self-control. Your presence was eating at him, though; every time you smiled, he couldn’t help but stare at your lips or look at your ass as you walked before him, exiting the theater. Thank god your dress covered your chest, cause he’s pretty sure that would’ve killed him too.

You waited for him to open the car door, second nature, to feel his hand on your side. Yuuji sat in one of the chairs in the lobby, perking up at the sight of you guys walking through, then pouting.

“You guys took forever to get here!”

“It was 13 minutes.”

Choso, tired at this point, walked the two of you upstairs to their room. He unlocked the door with annoyance, letting Yuuji and you walk in. 

“So, where did you put your keys? I’m not unlocking it again.”

Yuuji walked to the door and stepped outside, rummaging through his pocket and conveniently pulling out his keys.

“Look, they were here all along! That’s so crazy, haha.”

When you and Choso realized what had happened, it was already too late. Yuuji had since locked the door behind him, hearing him laugh as he walked down the hall.

“That fucker had his keys the whole time. Why am I not surprised?”

“Because it’s Yuuji we’re talking about here.”

Choso took a deep exhale and sighed.

Felt like I couldn't breathe, you asked what's wrong with me.

“Sorry about the unnecessary detour, I can go ahead and-”

You brought his lips to yours experimentally, him pulling back to look at you. Damn, you were nervous, but the lack of touch and the lust had completely taken over you, you knew what you wanted, and it was him. You kiss him firmly, pushing him back onto the bed. Instantly, Choso picked your legs up and placed them on either side of him, positioning you in his lap as he kissed you back. All he could seem to do was touch you, exploring your body, hands groping everything he touched. 

Out of his mind, horny, he brought your hips down to grind against his, feeling his dick rub against you through his pants, making you moan softly. He was becoming hungry, hands climbing up your dress to unclip your bra, bringing your clothed nipple into his mouth. Indulging in the little moans he pulled out of you was nice, but Choso was fucking selfish. He wasted no time flipping you over so your back lay against the bed, opening your thighs to position himself between them. That little black dress? Choso had stripped it from you, along with that bra, somewhere on the floor of his room. Now, Choso wasn’t a virgin, but the way he stared at your topless body would make it seem like he’s never seen a pair of tits before.

“You’re so damn pretty.”

He brought his shirt over his head, discarding it and his jeans, thinking your panties should go too, but you looked damn good in that thong. So, why not have a little fun? Choso pulled up your panty line, making your thong outline your pussy, soaked lips spilling out the sides, but not quite enough that you were fully exposed. Rubbing your clit through the fabric, you were getting so wet that your thong was soaked in your pre-cum. Wished he had a photographic memory, because he was in love with the sight he got to see when he decided to be nice and finally strip you of your panties. You were on full display to him, and like a siren, you brought your fingers down to spread your lips for him, inviting him to touch you in some way. He had something way better than that; trust. Cause at this point, he was flipping you on top of him, bringing your hips up to him so he could taste his your pussy on his face. You hesitated at first, scared you were gonna suffocate him, but with one look at his face, you knew he didn’t give a fuck. He brought your hips down so your pussy landed on his tongue, then it was go time. Sucking, licking, kissing, he was doing everything he could, addicted to your taste and scent. God, your pussy was delicious. He almost damned Yuuji and Mai for taking this long to introduce you to him. For taking so long to let him date you. For taking so long to let him please you. 

“Choso, fuck!”

He was feining for it, the way you were moaning his name like a prayer, and his mouth was something to believe in. That’s why you started gripping his headboard, shamelessly grinding your pussy across his face as you feel your orgasm approaching. You look down at him with those pretty doe eyes, and when they meet his, he starts licking your clit, flapping his tongue as he drew circles around it. Every cycle, every rotation, it was too much.

“I-I-”

You didn’t have to finish that sentence. Knew the second he felt your pussy spasm against his tongue, cumming in his mouth as he continued pleasing you, gripping your hips so you couldn’t move as you rode out your high. Finally, when you started whimpering from overstimulation, he decided to let you go, but you weren’t getting off that easy. Within seconds, Choso had you on your back, legs wide open, as he slid his dick inside your pussy.

The next time we hang out, I will redeem myself.

You honestly didn’t know you could cum that hard, let alone moan that loudly; so grateful the room next to them was vacant. But it wasn’t until Choso started fucking you slowly that you were losing yourself. He wanted to give you some time to adjust, but you were just so damn sexy, pretty face with an even prettier-

“More, please.”

He was hearing things, for sure. There was no way you were begging him to fuck you, but he fuckin’ liked it.

“More what? Tell me.”

“Fuck me, Choso.”

He didn’t have time to tease you anymore; his dick was aching so bad it could shatter. So, he gave you exactly what you wanted. At first, he kept a steady pace, gripping the sides of your pillow as his hips made you arch your back into him, but fuck, he needed wanted more. 

“I’m gonna fuck you a little faster now, that okay?”

“Yes, baby, just give it to me.”

Jesus, you were just trying to drive him insane. That pretty voice of yours calling him baby, he was already grateful you agreed to go on that date with him, but he didn’t expect this to happen (he was hoping he’d fuck you after the second or third date). He sat back on his legs as he lifted your hips to take him deeper, making you repeatedly groan his name. But, nothing could prepare you for how he began fucking you, fast and deep; he fucked you like he needed you, like he fuckin’ craved you. He couldn’t keep your name out of his mouth when he felt your pussy pulling him back in again every time he fell back to fuck you deeper. He started daydreaming about you a bit, what your next date would be like, seeing you every day, walking you to class, and then fucking you after you two completed classwork. The sound of your juices spilling out of your pussy onto his dick snapped him out of it, relishing in the sounds of your wetness and the claps of your ass every time he brought your body onto his. You felt so damn good, bringing your fingers up to touch his chest as he looked you in the eyes. And every time you looked away, he brought a hand up to put your eyes back on his. Because he needed to see how his dick made you feel and show you how good your pussy was taking it. 

“I gotta cum baby, need you to cum for me first.”

He pulled out, laying down to eat your pussy again, rutting his dick into his sheets. And when he made you cum for the second time, he slipped back inside, feeling your pussy pulsing with the waves of your orgasm. He came to the sounds of you squealing his name, your pussy milking him for all he’s worth.

My heart, it can't rest 'til then.

That was the best sex the two of you had ever had. It left you both panting, backs on the bed, mind hazy. Choso looked over at you, watching your tits rise and fall with every breath you took; he had to look away before he fucked you again, not that he wouldn’t mind. You looked up at him with those pretty doe eyes, and he swore he would melt. He brought you up to him, kissing you softly as he pulled a blanket over the two of you. You laid your head on his chest, following with his arm wrapping around your back and waist.

“So, wanna go on another date?”

Oh, I can't wait to see you again.

♱ the song used in this story is see you again (rock mafia remix) by miley cyrus. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

#choso x reader #chosoxreader #choso x female reader #choso x fem!reader #choso x f!reader #choso smut #choso x you #choso fluff #choso fanfic #choso fic #choso kamo #kamo choso #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk choso #choso #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #thelovelyruin #thelovelyarcana #Spotify

[jenosbigtoe]

park jisung x bimbo!reader (M)

minors dni

summary: maybe the quiet boy isn’t as naive or innocent as you initially thought.

warnings: reader is kinda slutty but ji secretly loves it, dom!jisung, big dick jisung, fingering, size kink, creampie, fellatio, unprotected sex, college au!

word count: 3.1k

a/n: i’m a jeno girlie but ji has been hitting sooo different. ESP THE BAT JISUNG OOOH

SORRY TO WHOEVER WANTED THE JAEMIN FIC FIRST IM GETTING IMPATIENT HAVING THIS SIT IN THE DRAFTS. JAEMIN FIC THIS WEEKEND POSSIBLY!!

god you wanted him so bad. park jisung, the quiet compsci major that sat in the front of every lecture you’ve had together since freshman year. the park jisung that walked around with his clunky black headphones around his head at all times. the one who had his head down and eyes averted wherever he went. the one who rarely raised his hand in class but when he did, god he sounded so sexy explaining topics you could never begin to understand. the park jisung you’ve never spoken more than 10 words to in the 3 years you’ve known him at uni.

you just wanted to corrupt him so bad. with those baggy clothes he always wore and those harry potter circular lenses you thought looked so so cute on his face, you’ve never seen him interact with the opposite sex. like ever. and with your senior year in uni, you knew you had to make a move on him.

operation seduce park jisung is a go.

you had your first lecture of the day together. it was a 9 am, one you barely showed up to but you knew he had perfect attendance to. and today you were going to make his knees weak when he saw you.

popping your sparkly pink lip gloss, you gave yourself another look over in the reflection of the window before stepping into the lecture hall. today, you wore a light pink mini skirt, a white crop top and lacy hot pink push up bra that peaked through, and a cardigan with strappy gold sandals. you walked in 5 minutes late, smacking your bubblegum, and scanned the room for your target.

there he sat in the front row, in his oversized black hoodie and khaki cargo pants, his laptop open and signature black headphones around his neck. he was chewing on the end of a pen cap as he typed, eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. you smirked to yourself and sauntered over to the seat next to him, making sure to scoot behind him in order to accidentally rub your ass against his head.

“sorry, excuse me,” you whispered.

jisung scooted up to let you pass and gave you a tight lipped smile as you sat next to him.

you didn’t even bother taking anything out to write notes. as you pretended to focus on the lecture, your eyes drifted over to jisung periodically. the way his hands were so big and veiny. when his hoodie sleeve would lift up and tease you with the image of his slim muscular arms. the faint smell of his masculine scent—smoky cedarwood? you could feel your pussy throbbing.

after the lecture was over and jisung got up to leave, you stopped him. “hey, what’s your name again? my name is y/n i don’t think we’ve introduced ourselves before.”

“it’s park jisung,” he said curtly.

it was hard for you to decipher how he felt talking to you but you didn’t want to burn this bridge before it even took off. “okay, nice to meet you, jisung. see you around!” you gave him a bright grin and turned on your heels to saunter out of class, leaving him to stare at your turned back.

and the next few weeks it was rinse and repeat. you would show up wearing your cutest little outfits, showing the most amount of skin appropriate in an “academic setting”, and trying to strike up a conversation with the quiet sexy compsci boy you had a crush on. to be fair, it didn’t seem like your plan was working all that well though. you barely knew anymore about jisung than you did a month ago and you thought by now you would’ve had him melting in your palm. with all the curt responses he gave to your questions, you should’ve been discouraged by now. but no, you were more determined than ever to get this boy underneath you.

so today you decided to alter your plan a little bit. you found jisung in the same seat as always. you were wearing the cutest white sandals and a short mini sundress with a pink ribbon in your hair. you took extra care in your makeup today too, wearing just a little more blush, sparkly silver glitter eyeshadow, and frosty pink lipstick.

“hi ji,” you walked up to him and smiled, actually 10 minutes early this time.

he gave you a small smile and looked back down at his laptop. you puffed your cheeks and pouted a bit. you sat in your designated seat next to him in a huff and pulled at his hoodie sleeve.

“ji, you like me right?” you started to draw circles on his arm and leaned in closer so he could smell your cherry perfume.

jisung looked up at you and tensed up with hesistant look about his face. “what do you mean, y/n?”

you pouted your lip. “you know.”

jisung fidgeted in his seat a bit and looked every where but your tits that were spilling out your bra. “i don’t know what you mean.”

“well we’re friends, right?” you leaned ever so slightly over. god he looked so cute and delicious you could just eat him up.

“um,” jisung started.

you interrupted him. “well i like you ji. and you’re my friend. friends help each other, right?”

jisung stared blankly at you. “y/n we've barely talked except the past couple weeks.”

you ignored his last statement.“this is really embarrassing but,” you leaned over and whispered softly in his ear, “i’m failing this stupid econ class. it’s required for my major but i just don’t understand any of it.”

you leaned back and stared jisung directly in his eyes, close enough to count the eyelashes on his eyes. “help me, ji? please? i know you’re just so smart and i only need some tutoring.” you gave his arm a tight squeeze for reassurance.

poor jisung was so flustered and shifted around at the proximity. “w-well uh o-okay-“

you stood up gave him a tight hug, conveniently shoving his face into your juicy tits, and squealed excitedly. mission success. “thank you so much, ji! let me treat you out to lunch a few days a week to make up for your help!”

jisung’s face was so red and the hug left his glasses slightly askew on his face. adjusting his glasses, he fumbled out a “yeah no problem.”

after the lecture, you slid jisung a piece of paper with your number with a “text me :) <3” and practically skipped out of class.

later that evening you got a text from an unknown number.

unknown: This is y/n right?

unknown: It’s Park Jisung.

you squealed and kicked your feet around on your bed.

you: yup :)) this is y/n

jisungie <3: Okay. I’m free Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Sundays after 2pm. Every other day I have work. Let me know when you want to meet up.

you: yayyyy!! perfect <3

you: let’s meet up at the library tomorrow at 2:30pm. my place is right by it

jisungie <3: Okay.

you: your so awesome ji 😎

jisungie <3: You’re*

jisungie <3: You’re welcome, y/n. And just so you know, I do like you. You are my friend.

you had to run laps around your room after that one.

the next day was a sunday. you told jisung to meet you at the library but you knew better. the library wasn’t open on sundays. so that meant your study date had to move somewhere. and with your place being so close, that somewhere would hopefully be your apartment.

so you arrived at the library 30 minutes early, knowing jisung’s little quirk of needing to be 15 minutes early to everywhere he goes. today you decided to wear black yoga pants that accentuated your ass and a cute crop with a teddy bear print on it. and you made sure your makeup was waterproof because you hoped jisung would make you cry it all off later.

when jisung arrived, you faked a pout and pretended to be upset. you ran up to him and grabbed his arm, big fake tears welling up in your eyes. “ji, the library is closed. i was so excited to hang out with you outside of class but we can’t even have our study date because the stupid library doesn’t open on sundays.”

jisung looked panicked at the sight of your tears. “uh, um, uh don’t cry.”

you let a few tears roll and rubbed them on the back of your hands. “sorry ji. i’m just so disappointed. sure i want my grade in econ to be better but i also just wanted to hang out with you.”

jisung grabbed a napkin out of his bag and handed it to you. he rubbed your hand in a reassuring way that secretly had your pussy throbbing from his big hand grabbing your small one. “uh it’s okay, y/n. i can probably make time tomorrow. i have work but uh-“

you suddenly interrupted him. “wait, i don’t want you to have to miss work for me. i have an idea. my place is just a 3 minute walk from here. how about we head over there instead?”

your tears suddenly dried up as you pouted up at him, puffed up cheeks and big doe eyes with a hopeful look on your face.

jisung seemed to look relieved that you stopped crying. “okay. if that’s what you want then i’m down.”

you squealed and jumped up and down, hugging his body close to yours. “yayy! thank you thank you thank you ji!!!” you grabbed his big hand in yours and practically dragged him all the way to your apartment.

your apartment looked exactly how jisung imagined it. so pink and girly, flowers and ribbons and stuffies everywhere. and it smelled so strongly of you, he was about to lose his mind. your fluffy white cat purred and rubbed herself affectionately on jisung’s leg as soon as he entered.

“sweet girl, he smells so good right?” you lifted her up and snuggled her into your arms, giving her kisses all over her fur. “ji, you can set your stuff down by the couch. let me change into some lounge clothes.”

jisung felt so awkward being in your apartment but when you came out, he knew he was really in trouble. you were wearing a lacy silk pink victoria’s secret pj set that looked so flimsy.

“ji, do you want anything to eat? drink?” you walked past him, underwear peaking from beneath your shorts as you walked to the small kitchen.

jisung stuttered. “n-no. i’m good”

you walked over with a glass of water and a pack of cookies. “okay just let me know if you need anything.”

after an hour of jisung trying to lecture topics of micro and macro economics into your head, you just about had enough. slamming the book shut, you felt your brain about to fry.

“ji, i know i’m a business admin major but this is so stupid,” you whined. “why can’t i be as smart as you? i just wanna marry rich and be a stay at home wife.”

“well y/n-“ jisung started but you cut him off.

“no. i’m sick of this.” suddenly you pushed him back on the couch and straddled his waisted, using your legs to lock him underneath you. suddenly you leaned close to his ear and whispered softly.

“baby, i think you are just so sexy when you explain this stuff to me. you are so smart and i want you so bad.” you nibbled on his ear.

and jisung snapped. he was tired of your teasing for the past few weeks. what, did you really think he was so naive and stupid to notice your seduction tactics? you’re quite literally the girl of his dreams and you’ve been the object of his fantasies since he first saw you freshman year. you were always so bubbly and sweet and outgoing, the exact opposite of him, how could he ever stand a chance with you? but now that you’ve finally made a move on him, that was it.

using his strength, he flipped you over and pinned you on your back, gripping your hands above your head. “fuck. you have no idea what you do to me. you think you can just tease me like this, dangling yourself in front of me like a piece of meat, and expect me to not snap? you have too much faith in me.”

your heart was racing and every word he said went straight to your pussy, growing wetter by the second. jisung started leaving wet kisses down your jaw, once hand still pinning your hands above your head and the other gripping your waist.

“jisung you are so sexy. you have no idea how much i have wanted this,” you looked him into his eyes and smashed your lips against his.

3 years of unresolved feelings went into that kiss. he was a much better kisser than you expected, which had you moaning into his mouth and grinding up into his thigh.

he ripped off your pj set, leaving you in just your lacy white bra and panties. “fucking slut. you planned this huh? wanted to bring me to your apartment so you could fuck me huh?”

you whined and started taking his clothes off too. and holy shit was he hiding a beautiful body underneath those baggy clothes. you could always kinda tell he was toned underneath those clothes but nothing compared to this. his body was so well built and chiseled, arms so veiny and thick, you were foaming at the mouth.

he went to take his glasses off but you stopped him. “the glasses stay on while we fuck,” you told him seriously.

he bit back a giggle and ripped your underwear off. your pussy was glistening with arousal. he wrapped his lips around one of your juicy tits and traveled his hands down your body until his fingers rested on your cunt. “does my baby want to be touched here? does her slutty pussy want to be touched?”

you whined and bucked your hips into his hand. “yes! yes please ji i need you to touch me.”

he smirked and started teasing your pussy with his fingers, rubbing them up and down your slit and ghosting over your clit.

“stop teasing me. need more ji,” you sniffled.

he shoved two fingers into your sopping cunt and started pumping them. you moaned loudly, wriggling your body around and clenching on his fingers. with his other hand, he continued to grope at your chest, leaving you needier than ever. god his hands were so hot and they felt so good. so long and big and veiny and the perfect size for touching your cunt.

suddenly, you shoved him off of you and pushed him back on his back. “your turn.”

jisung looked shocked at first but let you take control. you pulled down his boxers and let out a small gasp. “no fucking way.”

jisung smirked at you and tilted his head back, shutting his eyes with a knowing look on his face. his glasses were crooked and falling off his nose but he never looked sexier to you.

“ji, why did you never tell me you were hiding a horse in there?” you asked, completely serious.

jisung stifled a giggle. “never asked.”

“if i had known you were this fucking hung down here i would’ve jumped your bones so much sooner.” you were seriously concerned for your little pussy the next day but at this point you didn’t care.

you gave his massive cock a few pumps with your manicured nails, wondering just how you would be able to fit all of it inside. even his balls were massive and heavy.

you alternating between licking the base of his cock and lightly sucking on his balls. god it was so hot and heavy and smelled so good, so musky and masculine. jisung let out the sexiest groans as you did this, snaking his hands into your hair and gripping your head. “fuck baby that feels so good.”

you gave a small kiss to the tip of his cock and then started sucking, putting more and more of it down your throat as you went. tears pricked your eyes as it went further and further. jisung’s moans got even louder and he started to buck his hips slightly against your face.

you gave licks to the underside as his dick was deep in your throat. with one final push, you bottomed out on his cock and deepthroated him fully, leaving jisung’s mind hazy and body shaking. fat tears welled up in your eyes and fell down your face. good call on the waterproof mascara.

“fuck m gonna cum. you’re doing so good baby, so so so good,” he groaned as you kept going up and down on his cock, sucking and licking his shaft with every bob of your head.

without warning, he suddenly ripped his cock from your face and stood up, leaving you whining and tears staining your face.

“what a cock hungry slut. can’t even go a second without cock ruining her. well don’t worry baby, i’m about to fuck you so good. wanna cum inside your pussy for the first time.”

he reached into his bag for a condom but you stopped him. “no condom. want you in my pussy raw.”

jisung smirked. “naughty girl.” he pushed you on all fours on the couch and positioned himself behind you. “you’re already so wet baby, won’t even need to prep.”

he rubbed his massive cock on the outside of your pussy, teasing your hole and sticking the tip in before taking it out and rubbing it some more.

“ugh fuck me ji! stop teasing just fuck me right now!” you whined out, arching your back and shoving your cute ass in his face.

and without warning, he bottomed out inside you. you screamed at the sudden feeling, his balls pressing up against your clit. your arms gave out from beneath you, leaving his hands to gripping your hips for support.

“m gonna move now, m’kay sweetheart?” jisung groaned. your little pussy was just sucking him so tightly and it was driving him crazy.

his hips drove into your cunt, his big cock absolutely bullying your little pussy. you were a screaming and moaning and crying mess. “yes yes ji! oh my god feels so good yes!”

you felt your orgasm building up, leaving your pussy to clench and drip more around his cock.

“fuck baby. this pussy was made for me. you’re so perfect and gorgeous and i can’t believe i get to fuck this pussy,” jisung was going absolutely feral above you, thrusting hard and fast and deep into your pussy. he was bottoming out with each thrust, balls slapping against your clit.

“m close. where do you want me to cum baby?” ji groaned out.

“inside. cum inside my pussy. please ji, i need it, need it so much,” you cried.

your words sent jisung over the edge. he released his hot load into your cunt, giving a few last hard thrusts.

the feeling of hot cum inside you triggered your orgasm. you cried out in pleasure, feeling absolute bliss.

after you both got down from your highs, still panting heavily, jisung collapsed onto the couch with you on his lap. his head rested in the crook of your neck as you laid your head on his.

“this is a little late but be my boyfriend ji?”

#nct x reader #nct smut #park jisung #jisung x reader #park jisung x reader #jisung smut #park jisung smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream #nct dream smut

[scalingsvt8thusiast]

Wait for your love 2 (angst)

summary: you wait in silence, waiting for wonwoo to finally love you

inspired by Ariana Grande's We Can't be Friends (AKA Wait for your love)

a/n: I feel like this is much better quality than part 1 tbh, this is why i normally write in the daytime. I feel fresher yk :D

Know that you made me

Wonwoo was never much of a social boy. So when you initiated a conversation back in high school, he found himself devoid of any communication skills whatsoever. It took him a hot minute to realise he was a blubbering, stuttering mess. 

For the rest of the day, he couldn’t get your bright smile out of his head. He couldn’t stop thinking how about your pigtails would swing so cutely when you moved your head and that little lisp you had because of your braces. 

He went home that day thinking it was a one-off conversation, thinking that you’d realise how much of a loser he was and request to move seats. To his surprise you join him at the cafeteria the next day.  You slid into the seat opposite him while he was mid bite into his sandwich. He looked around thinking you were talking to someone else. When you realised what he was doing, you threw your head back, letting out a melodious laughter. Wonwoo would compare your laughter to wind chimes on a windy day, it had a calming effect. He would try his best to have you reproduce that sound, succeeding almost instantly on his lame attempt at a joke. 

He found himself looking forward to school on the daily, wanting to be close to you so much so that he would walk you all the way home, even though his house was the complete opposite direction. He’d go to sleep every night, replaying all your conversations in his head, replaying that beautiful smile of yours in his memory. 

He didn’t think life could get any better than this until you had invited him to hangout after school. It was just a simple movie get-together. Wonwoo panicked for hours on what he would wear, changing between two of his favourite t-shirts at least 10 times. He finally chose the shirt with your favourite character on the front, hoping you'd compliment him (You did, luckily he had a face mask on because you would have thought he was sick from how red his cheeks were).

During the movie, no matter how hard he tried to concentrate on what was happening on screen, he found his attention straying to you. The way your facial expressions would change rapidly depending on the plot had him hooked. Fortunately you never asked him any questions about the movie because God knows he wouldn’t be able to answer you. 

Wonwoo felt like he was on cloud nine. He had you both in school and after school. 

In his final year of high school, it dawned on him that the two of you may not have long to go. He had spent sleepless nights contemplating on what he should do. Wonwoo knew that he had to tell you some day that he was so irrevocably, undeniably in love with you. 

The day finally came when Wonwoo had manned himself up enough to tell you. He had lured you out to your favourite cafe under the guise of having some important news. He put his lucky socks on while hoping and praying that even if you were to reject him, he would be able to take it well (he wouldn’t). 

When he got to the cafe, Wonwoo felt as if all the air was sucked out of his lungs. There you were in your usual seat, your hair up in a messy bun and wearing the prettiest sun dress. When you turned to greet him with that warm smile, he felt like he was staring at the sun. 

“There you are!” You teased, “For once, I’ve arrived earlier.”

“Hey!” Wonwoo tried to sound as casual as possible. 

“Okay, so I have some exciting news!” You started, turning your phone towards him. “I got in!” 

Wonwoo squinted at your phone, it was an acceptance letter from the same university he was due to attend. He remembered you not wanting to apply to that university because your course was incredibly competitive. Considering the university was quite high ranking, you had reasoned that you would be rejected so you didn't bother trying.

“Oh!” Wonwoo eyes widened after reading the letter. “Congratulations!” 

You beamed at him, your happiness warming Wonwoo’s chest. “We’ll be seeing each-other next year then!” 

At this, Wonwoo relaxed. He didn’t have to tell you today. He had the next few years to plan a proper confession. 

“So what was it you wanted to tell me?” You put your phone down and laced your hands together, giving Wonwoo your full attention.

“Oh, er,” Shit, he hadn’t planned for this. “I- I saw the cinema was rerunning Star Wars. We should go?”

Me and my truth we sit in silence (not really)

After graduation, Wonwoo’s brother had invited him to Seoul. Initially Wonwoo was reluctant, he wanted to spend his holidays with you at the beach, rolling around in the park, at the library, anywhere really. He just wanted to be with you. 

Wonwoo eventually decided to go, not because he actually wanted too, but because you were going to spend some time with your relatives in Paris. He wouldn’t be with you even if he didn’t go. So after some encouragement from you, he booked the ticket. 

Seoul was fun. It would have been more fun if you were there. 

Wonwoo spent his days either in bed or on his brother’s fully built gaming PC, always thinking about you. His brother, noting that Wonwoo only had one friend (you), decided to make him join the local boys in some casual basketball. While Wonwoo was unwilling at first, his brother bribed him with a new gaming laptop. It was embarrassing how fast he ran to the court. 

There Wonwoo met a few new friends, one of them being Kim Mingyu. 

Wonwoo had planned on keeping to himself throughout the games but Mingyu decided to destroy that plan of his by greeting him as soon as Wonwoo stepped onto the court.

“Hello! My name is Mingyu!” Mingyu said, approaching Wonwoo with an outstretched arm. “I’ve never seen you before, you new?” 

“Yeah, Wonwoo.” Wonwoo shook Mingyu’s hand hesitantly. 

“Wonwoo? No, I’m Mingyu.” Mingyu replied quizzically.

“No!” Wonwoo stammered, “I’m Wonwoo.” 

Mingyu mouth curved into a grin, his canines on full view. “Come on, I’ll intro you to everybody else!” 

It didn’t take long for Mingyu to grow on Wonwoo, especially when they found out they were bound for the same university after holidays. Especially when Mingyu reminded Wonwoo so much of you. 

After that first match, the rest of Wonwoo’s holiday was spent with Mingyu and his group of friends. They went skiing, footballing, swimming, anything under the sun. Everywhere he went, he would think about bringing you and how much more fun it would be if you were with him. 

Mingyu was the rascal that taught Wonwoo the wonders of alcohol. Of course, Wonwoo didn’t know when too much was too much, thus he ended up confessing to his friends about you.

“Okay, big guy, let’s get you home.” Joshua wheezed as Wonwoo’s full weight was pressed onto his shoulder. 

“Mingyu, you better apologise to his brother.” Seungcheol scolded the younger man as he helped Joshua pile Wonwoo into the taxi. 

Mingyu waved Seungcheol off as he got into the passenger seat of the same taxi. 

“Where are we going?” Wonwoo slurred, his body slumped onto the backseats. 

“We’re going to send you home, bro.” Mingyu said, chuckling along with the taxi driver. 

“Will we see y/n?” Wonwoo sounded hopeful. 

Mingyu turned to look at his friend. Wonwoo had his eyes closed with a serene look on his face. Mingyu recognised that look whenever Wonwoo brought you up. 

“We won’t see her today.” Mingyu replied with a smile, he liked watching his friend talk about you. Anything that involved you always made Wonwoo the happiest man alive. 

“But why?” Wonwoo whined, he didn’t like the thought of not seeing you.

“Because she’s not here, but you’ll see her soon.” Mingyu emphasised as the taxi man arrived at Wonwoo’s house. 

Mingyu pulled the drunk boy out of the backseat and bid the taxi man good night. Mingyu decided to crash on Wonwoo’s couch tonight. 

“Have I ever told you about how pretty y/n is?” Wonwoo sighed dreamily as he remembered your beautiful face. 

“Yes, yes you have.” Mingyu muttered as he tried his best to balance his friend on one arm while opening the front door. 

“Well, she’s so pretty! Like the sun!” Wonwoo recounted, swinging his free arm wildly over his head. “She looks like she stepped right out of story book.” 

“Of course, bro.” Mingyu responded, as he guided Wonwoo towards the bed. 

“I can’t wait to see her.” Wonwoo groaned as he buried his face into his pillow. 

Mingyu smiled and closed the room door.

It’s just me and you

If Wonwoo earned a dollar for every time his breath was stolen by you, he would be a millionaire. 

There you were at the front door of your shared apartment. You no longer wore your hair up, instead letting it run down your shoulders. You ditched your jeans and sweatshirt for a satin skirt and a frilly top which hugged your figure so well. It had Wonwoo reeling. 

He was literally speechless at how gorgeous you had become over the holidays. You were already undeniably beautiful before, but this was another level. He swore he could have fainted right there and then. 

“Wonwoo?” You called for him, snapping him out of his daze. 

“Y/n!” Wonwoo tried to sound as normal as possible, he could feel his pits getting sweatier by the second. He quickly wrenched the box you were carrying from your hands, beautiful people shouldn’t have to do work like this. 

He tried his best to hold a full conversation with you, trying to reproduce all the advice he had gotten from the boys over the holidays. All while moving your boxes for you, ignoring your pleas to help. 

God, how was he going to live with you when you looked so good. 

The next few days, Wonwoo tried his best to talk to you. He would join you for meals and listened to you marvel about Paris, he would answer all your questions about Seoul and he would try to elicit if you had met anyone of interest while on holiday. It went a little something like this:

“So,” Wonwoo cleared his throat, “meet anyone in Paris?”

“Oh, I told you Woo,” you smiled as you flipped the pancake on the pan. “I met Minnie! She’s from Thailand.”

“Yes, Minnie.” Wonwoo trailed off. “Anyone else?”

“Erm, I guess I met her friend Yuqi, she’s sweet.” You said, laying the cooked pancakes on plates before joining your friend at the dining table.

“What about boys?” Wonwoo said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Boys?” You tilted your head. “What about them?”

“Did you meet any boys?” Wonwoo quizzed, eyes not meeting yours as he cut up the pancakes and placed it on your plate. 

“Not really? I mostly went around with Minnie and her group of friends.” You said in between mouthfuls of dough and maple syrup. 

“Oh.” Wonwoo couldn’t stop the feeling of relief blooming in his chest. 

“Besides, you’re the only boy I need, Woo.”

You gave him another one of your pretty smiles and Wonwoo tried his best not to melt right there and then. 

You got me misunderstood. 

Mingyu had dragged him out to a party every other night. After Seoul, Wonwoo had learnt to actually enjoy some outings that didn’t involve you. That and he didn’t want to seem like a loser who stayed at home 24/7 in front of you. 

It backfired on him majorly, partying every night with Mingyu’s never-ending stamina meant that he would be sleeping throughout the day and not seeing you as much as he would like. 

He was extremely embarrassed by the amount of times he had called you to bail him out of a party. Mingyu would always disappear with some girl, not that Wonwoo minded, but that left him stranded a party alone and drunk. He couldn’t even remember how he got home one day if not for the note you left for him by his bedside with a bottle of Paracetamol.

I have an early class today, text me if you need anything ;-)  

Wonwoo ignore the pounding in his head. Gently, he lifted the note and Paracetamol bottle, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. He pulled out a box he kept under his bed, it was full of small trinkets he had stored from the outings with you over the years and a scarf you had knitted for him back in high school. He placed the two new treasures carefully in the box before going out to buy himself another bottle of Paracetamol.

One night, he was tipsy, not drunk. Or so he thought he wasn’t. 

Maybe it was how Seokmin hyped him up at pre-drinks. Or maybe it was because Soonyoung had thought him the way of the Horanghae. He wasn’t sure but Wonwoo found himself filled to the brim with courage. 

He leaned on your car in quiet contemplation as you fumbled with your car keys. 

He looked down at you. 

Gosh, you were so cute with your messy hair and glasses. He hadn’t seen you in specs for the longest time and it made him crazy. 

He wasn’t sure what came over him, he grabbed your hand and flipped you against the car. Caging you with his arms. 

His eyes traced every feature of yours, appreciating the way your eyes were wide from shock, the way you looked slightly confused with your raised eyebrows. The way your lips were glossy from your nightly vaseline routine. 

“Y/n,” Wonwoo paused, searching for the right words. “You’re so pretty.” 

He watched as your cheeks turned a light shade of pink. You were so cute. 

Before he knew it, his lips were on yours. It was only right that you were his first kiss. 

The next morning he shot up from his bed. He couldn’t remember anything after the kiss. He traced his own lips lightly with his fingers. Smiling like a maniac. 

Suddenly a wave of insecurity crashed over him, his smile fell.

What if you didn’t like it? It was his first kiss, what if he was a bad kisser? What if you didn’t like him? What if you thought he was a weirdo? Oh my god, did he accidentally sexually assault you? 

The blood drained from his face, how was he going to face you now?

We can’t be friends, but I’d just like to pretend

Wonwoo spent weeks avoiding you. 

He imagined the look of disgust on your face and he couldn’t bear to even look at you.

He spent his nights partying, trying to push the fears of you rejecting him out of his head.

Mingyu and the rest of the boys became increasingly concerned. The more responsible boys would drag Wonwoo home every night. That’s how some of them had met you. 

You opened the door after a few knocks, even if it was 4AM in the morning. You’d apologise profusely on Wonwoo’s behalf as you helped them drag him to his bedroom. Once Wonwoo was comfortable in bed, you’d offer them a drink and the couch to sleep on. Worry filling your eyes at how tired each of them were. 

Each and every single one of the boys liked you immediately. They found that everything Wonwoo said about you was true. You truly were a pure and gentle soul. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Seungcheol hissed at Wonwoo. 

Soonyoung eyed his friends wearily. The three of them had just found a seat at the library and were busy unpacking their things.

“What do you mean?” Wonwoo was taken aback, Seungcheol rarely got mad at him. 

“That was y/n, wasn’t it?” Seungcheol said in between gritted teeth.

As the three of them walked into the library, you were just on your way out. Wonwoo had spotted you first, quickly hiding behind Seungcheol and Soonyoung, albeit failing due to his height. Your lips stretched into a grin as you waved enthusiastically at him. Wonwoo quickly looked away, not wanting you to see him like this. 

The two other boys watched the entire exchange, they saw the way your face fell when Wonwoo pretended not to see you. Seungcheol and Soonyoung exchanged glances before waving back at you. You beamed at the both of them and disappeared out of the library. 

“Why are you ignoring her?” Soonyoung asked quietly. 

“I’m not ignoring her,” Wonwoo whispered, “I just didn’t see her.” 

“Bullshit.” Seungcheol said, receiving glares from other library-goers. 

“She’s very nice.” Soonyoung muttered, looking at his friend. He wondered if somewhere along the line Wonwoo had gotten possessed by some demon. 

“Look,” Seungcheol whispered angrily, “If I had a housemate like you, I would have moved out ages ago.”

Soongyoung nodded in complete agreement. Wonwoo shrunk in his seat as the older man berated him. 

Seungcheol sighed and gave Wonwoo a stern look, “I’m not sure why I have to tell you this, but you are lucky to have her.”

That night Wonwoo found himself lying on his bed. He could see the light streaming through the gaps of his door from the dining room. You were probably sitting out there, studying. 

He slowly got up from his bed and looked around his room, he needed an excuse to talk to you. His eyes landed on his pile of worksheets from his most recent tutorial. That was worth a shot. 

He pulled his door open slightly and peeked out. You sat at the dining table with your head resting on your textbook, apart from the sound of your diffuser running at the coffee table, it was complete silence. 

Wonwoo bit his lip, were you sleeping? 

He decided to try his luck. 

“Y/n?” Wonwoo croaked out as he emerged from his room. 

Your head shot up from the book and your eyes met his.

“Could you help me with this?” Wonwoo said lamely as he held out the worksheet for you to see. 

Wonwoo was inwardly sweating. What if you rejected to help? What would he do then?

He watched as you gaze drifted from him to the pieces of paper in his hands. He watched as your lips curled into a smile.

“Sure!” 

He was lucky. So fucking lucky

“Thanks.”

Not how you made me 

Wonwoo was drunk. Again. 

Tonight, Mingyu had invited him to a house party. Someone’s birthday or something. He hadn’t planned on drinking but of course the drinking games got to him. It was Seokmin’s genius idea to play drunk foot volleyball and Wonwoo seriously sucked at that game. 

By the end of the match he was stumbling all over the place. Then he saw you. Or thought he saw you. 

The other boys had all disappeared somewhere into the house and this girl who looked a whole lot like you was currently chatting him up. Granted Wonwoo’s glasses had been destroyed in drunk foot volleyball and all he could see was a blurry mess. He ended up making out with you(?) at some corner.

Next thing he knew, he was lying bed. 

His head was pounding as he turned to his bedside table and pulled out his spare pair of glasses. He was finally able to see clearly with them on. He turned to his side and there was a girl sleeping next to him. 

Wonwoo froze. 

What happened? Who was this girl? Were you home? Did you see him last night? 

“Fuck” He cursed, he quickly got up and pulled on a pair of pants. 

“Wony? Get back into bed.” The girl muttered as she turned to look at him. 

“I’m sorry if this makes me sound like an asshole.” Wonwoo said, hesitantly. “Could you please get ready to leave?” 

“What?” The girl said sitting up from the bed. 

“I’ve got an early class.” Wonwoo had to come up with some sort of excuse. 

“So?” She rolled her eyes before lying back down. “I’ll just let myself out later.”

“No, no.” Wonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed as he ran a hand through his hair. “My girlfriend is in the next room. Please Leave.” 

At this the girl begrudgingly got out of his bed, Wonwoo quickly turned around to give her some privacy. When she finished changing, she headed for the door. 

“You have a girlfriend and you’re going around fucking other girls?” She said on her way out. “Fucking asshole.” 

Right after she left, Wonwoo went to knock on your door. He knocked a few times, calling your name timidly. There was no answer. He reasoned that you must have left for class. 

He would talk to you after class. He had to.

So for now it’s only me

Wonwoo came home from class, ready to speak with you.

He entered the apartment and realised how empty it was. He looked around. All your things were gone. 

No. 

He made his way to your room and pushed the door open. There was nothing but an empty bed and a study table. 

No, please. 

He turned to the closet and pulled it open. He was met with nothing but hangers and empty drawers. 

Please. 

He pulled out his phone to send you a quick text. It was probably a prank. 

Please. 

He realised he had an unread message. From you. 

Hey! Sorry, for such a last minute notice. Due to personal issues, I don’t think I can live with you for the rest of the term. Don’t worry, I’ll still send you my half of the rent until you find someone new. Good luck :)

He had fucked up. 

a/n2: again, always open to criticism. there will be a part 3. I promise. depends on when I want to write it :D

#wonwoo fic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x y/n #wonwoo x you #svt wonwoo #seventeen wonu #svt wonu #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonu #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonu #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fic #svt #svt fanfic #svt fic #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff #seventeen angst #svt angst #seungcheol #hoshi #wonu fic #wonwoo angst #wonu angst

[webslingingslasher]

Unknown Sender

happy valentine's day!

MONDAY: 13:52 

‘hi.’ Peter squints at the message, then the unsaved number. He's not sure how, but it’s a scam. 

‘i’d like to have your attention, please.’ Peter rolls his eyes, swiping left to not only delete but report the number as junk. No doubt it was a bot or someone with a flair for sextortion. 

A new number. ‘that was actually so rude of you, parker.’ 

‘unblock me right now.’ 

Peter shifts in his seat, he does a slow look around the room and finds nothing off putting or alarming. 

‘Who is this?’ 

Green bubbles pop up. ‘unblock me and i’ll tell you.’ Peter was right to guess about extortion. Another swipe, blocked and reported. Peter wasn’t participating in any games. 

A new number. ‘oh, now you’re just being cute.’ 

Peter feels his heart pick up a bit, it’s a tad threatening and now he’s overthinking it a little. What if someone has it out for him? Is there a mark on his back? ‘Please leave me alone.’ 

‘no.’ 

‘can we play 21 questions?’ 

Peter’s face scrunches up, he spins his head around one more time, someone is fucking with him. He has no clue who has time for something like that in university, but he’s not a willing participant anymore, not since high school. 

‘Leave me alone. Go torment a freshman.’ 

‘i don’t like freshmen. i like you.’ Peter chews at his bottom lip, there was a second of hesitancy but he knows the truth deep down. ‘I’m blocking you.’ 

‘sure. i’ll keep texting you, too.’ 

‘I’ll change my number.’ 

‘noooo please don’t do that. i had to work hard enough to get it the first time.’ Peter doesn’t respond. He blocks the number and moves on, and they don’t try to text him again.

Until the next day and Peter knows two things for certain. There is a note in his backpack, and it wasn’t there before his econ lecture. He remembers pulling that pocket open before he started notes, then when he went to zip it up, a note. 

This upsets him. What good was any sense when someone could get that unnoticeably close to him without him knowing? Second, it’s a little frustrating not to know who this person is and how it most likely is connected to the texts he had a few days ago, and that it’s an extremely long played joke that’s mostly boring. 

‘Peter Parker- 

You’ve been secretly admired. It might not be very secret, because I think you’ve caught me staring at you a thousand times. I like you a lot. 

Hopefully liked back, 

-X’ 

But a part of him believes it’s true. He’s trying to think of who’s in his lecture, if he’s caught them staring then they’re either to the side or behind him. There are too many faces, too many times he’s been looked at, he’s almost centered, it’s his fault for choosing a focal point. 

Instead of throwing it away, he refolds the pink handwriting and puts it back into place before hitching a strap over his shoulder and sliding behind chairs. One, two steps up he glances at your face, you have a weak smile, he returns the same kind, it’s more like a polite nod. Peter’s always thought you were pretty and he thinks you're nice. 

But really, he’s wondering who left the note. 

10:30

‘did you get my note?’ Peter does his normal scan across campus, again, his fault for being out in the open. This person could be anywhere, he’s on a picnic bench with a group of friends. If he’s smart, he’d start limiting himself to contained spaces and make you show yourself. 

‘Yeah. Who is this?’ Peter’s thumbs dance around the screen waiting for a reply, it comes quick. ‘i told you. x.’ He stops himself from rolling his eyes, he doesn’t know anyone with an ‘X’ anywhere in their name. 

‘Is that an initial?’ 

‘actually, i’m pretty sure it’s british for kiss.’ 

‘That’s a wild take. Are you saying the UK is responsible for XOXO’s?’ 

‘i’d like to make you responsible for my xoxo’s.’ Peter chews his bottom lip, he won’t play into anything in writing. He doesn’t believe this for a second, everything about this feels off. Someone’s fucking with him and they’re also in his class, or they have someone in on it in his class. 

But this is too advanced.

‘sorry. i don’t mean to like harass you or anything. you’re really hot but you scare me, i don’t think you would like me so idk, maybe if you talk to me you’d like me for me or something.’ 

‘i just think i’m punching wayyyy above my weight class here and i may be making this worse because there is no doubt you think im weird.’ 

‘i am weird. i should leave you alone now. i’m sorry.’ 

Peter reads his screen four times, it’s still not clicking. He’s nothing special and he doesn’t mean that in a way to dog on himself, he’s just nerdy and quiet. It seems a little too authentic to be fake, but he’s got to make sure. 

‘How’d you get my number?’ 

‘your friend. they have been sworn to secrecy but they know what i’m doing and they are in full support. take that as you will.’ 

‘Depends on the friend.’ 

‘i’ll tell you when you find out who i am.’ 

‘I’m going to find out? You’re not going to tell me?’ 

‘i don’t think i’ve been hiding it. you just haven’t been paying attention and now i want you to.’ 

‘Oh, but you’re shy?’ 

‘i’m about to pass out on the lawn behind this fucking screen, don’t play with me parker.’ A slip, you’re around him and you just admitted it. ‘Tell me, admirer, what are you wearing?’ The more detail the better, but he could work off of just a color. 

‘nice try. but you’re looking mighty handsome in the blue.’ A glance down, he suddenly feels watched. ‘Are you stalking me?’ 

‘oh no! no no no. i PROMISE you i’m not that fucking psychotic.’

‘i’m just a “sneak a note into your backpack” level of crazy. i’m here with my roommate and her boyfriend. i saw you and just wanted to know if you got it, i promise.’ 

‘You do understand that this situation makes you seem psychotic, right?’ 

‘yes. but i am not.’ 

‘That sounds like something a crazy person who got my number from a third party would say. Especially after I blocked you six times.’ 

‘it was three and you didn’t understand my intentions but okay. you have a fair point and i extend the olive branch of brett. he gave me your number and he knows me pretty well.’ 

Brett? Easy enough, he nods his head towards him and slides his phone across the table. “Explain.” His friend scrolls through the thread, a trustworthy smile spreads. “Yeah, I gave her your number.” Her. Okay, it’s something. “Who is she?” Brett shrugs, “you know her. She’s kind of a firecracker, you just make her nervous.” 

“That gives me nothing, Brett.” His friend blinks, “she’s not crazy. She likes you a lot for whatever fucking reason and has no idea how to approach you.” Peter’s letting his words soak in, “don’t believe me? Ask her about the grilled cheese, and make sure you tell her that I told you about how she went on for five fucking minutes about the grilled cheese.” 

“What grilled cheese?” Brett slides Peter’s phone back, he’s telling him to ask you. Something tells Peter it’s enough to embarrass, or it might be Brett being the ultimate wingman.

‘I’ve been told to ask you about the grilled cheese.’ 

‘oh god. there is no need to ask about the grilled cheese, did brett tell you about the grilled cheese?’ 

‘He told me to ask you. And to specify that you went on for five minutes about it.’ 

‘five is excessive, it was more like three. second, there is nothing to speak about.’ 

‘I would like to hear about it.’ 

‘i’d prefer if you didn’t.’ 

‘But you’ll do it for me?’ 

‘i’m weak for you and you know it. it’s sicking, parker.’ 

‘i heard you talking about making one in class and you said something about the crust and i really fucking love grilled cheese’s so i had a trip to fantasy land where you made me one and how it’s probably the best thing i’ll never get to taste.’ 

‘Wow. Five whole minutes on that?’ Peter won’t admit it made him feel a little warm on the inside, the most mundane of things to have someone so squirrely makes him feel unworthy. 

‘three.’ 

‘Tell me who you are and I’ll make you a grilled cheese.’ 

‘you have no idea how much that almost worked.’ 

‘What’s the plan then, master manipulator?’ 

‘i don’t know yet. i’m hoping you show me how smart you are and figure me out, then you can do all the hard questions.’ 

‘Hard questions?’ 

‘you know, do you wanna go on a date, do you wanna be my girlfriend, do you want to take my hand in marriage and have a summer home in the french alps? that kind of stuff.’ 

‘Totally not psychotic.’ Peter tucks his bottom lip between his teeth to hide the smile that wants to spread. 

‘mostly not.’ 

WEDNESDAY: 13:57

Peter doesn’t know who X is, but they’re clever and have zero effect on his sixth sense. He doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. Either way, he’s reading a note scribbled in blue pen and as he studies the words he knows it was rushed. It’s proof that he wasn’t being followed everywhere, instead you saw an empty table and an opportunity. 

‘Peter- 

You use mostly gender neutral pronouns. I think that’s very cool. Is it weird that I notice those things about you? Also- what is it that you’re always drinking from Nuthouse? Asking for a friend… 

Have a good day! 

-Your not so secret admirer, X. 

‘Not so secret,’ Peter isn’t sure about that. You’ve done a good enough job at not trying to be obviously known, he might have looked up your number last night to find dust. One was from an app, but the one you’ve been using is a burner phone. 

What he’s really not understanding is how you’re able to get so close to him without him noticing. You had to have been millimeters away when you rested the letter on his backpack, he was gone for less than two minutes and he had zero awareness. 

Peter folds up the note and sticks it in the same pocket as the other one, his back slung around one shoulder as he moves up the stairs for the library. At the same time, you come down the opposite side, Peter gives a friendly acknowledgement. 

You choke down the lump in your throat. “Hi, Peter.” He’s already past you, it’s echoed behind his shoulder. “Hey.” It’s something. You’re trying, you’re trying to be bold for him. But he’s not going to notice, he’s never going to notice you and if you tell him who you are you’ll never live past his disappointment. 

Your phone vibrates, the other phone. Your heart picks up, Peter texted first. 

 14:02 

‘Dirty chai.’ 

‘best of both worlds. how fitting. you’re such a nonconforming king.’ 

‘I don’t even know what that means.’ 

‘But thank you?’ 

‘you’re welcome!’ 

‘anything fun on the roster today?’ 

‘Roster? Who are you?’ 

‘idk you make me nervous. blame yourself.’ 

‘Well, coach. Nothing fun on the roster, just some math. Wanna swap places with me?’ 

‘gross. i hate math so if you like it that’s good with me. one of us has to be smart and it’s not me.’

‘Smart enough to use a burner phone.’ 

‘oooooh, someone tried to find meeee.’ 

‘Can’t blame a guy for being curious, can you?’ 

‘were you disappointed when you found nothing?’ 

‘A little bit. But, you know, it keeps the imagination alive. A little unfair advantage on your side though, you already know what I look like.’ 

‘if it helps, you already know what i look like too.’ 

‘I do?’ 

‘yeah. we’ve talked before.’ 

‘Wait, so I know who you are?’ Brett said he did but Peter thought he meant you’d be familiar, not that he actually knew you. This just opened the floodgates to a million more possibilities. 

‘not really but yeah i guess. you know i exist but we’re not friends or anything.’ 

‘I’d like to think we’re friends, but okay.’ 

‘not outside the texting.’ 

‘That’s your decision.’ 

‘HATER.’ 

‘Anymore hints?’ 

‘.... no.’ 

‘HATER.’ 

FRIDAY: 12:15

You’re about to spill hot tea everywhere but it’ll be worth it to see his face. You ignore your pounding heart and stand in front of him. He’s got no clue you showed up, zoned out looking at the clock on the wall across from him. 

“Hi, Peter.” 

Full frontal attention, he’s looking at you. He’s perceiving you, he’s smiling at you. “Hi,” your eyes expand, he knows your name and it sounds so nice coming from his mouth. Sure, you’ve chatted with each other- even shared a few highlighters, but nothing serious. You’ve always been too scared to try anything else but maybe your fear has been mistaken for indifference. 

“I um, I lucked out today at Nuthouse so if you like dirty chai’s I got an extra one.” Your knees feel weak at his bright eyes, “my favorite. I’d love one, thank you.” You pass over the paper cup, your fingers brush and you think you’re about to collapse. 

“Yeah,” a weak laugh. “I had a feeling.” Peter tilts his head at you funny, you wonder if you pushed a little too far. “Okay, um, I’m gonna… have a good… lecture.” Peter nods and watches you go two rows up, he’s finally got a gut feeling. And it tells him to keep an eye out for you. 

TUESDAY: 12:10

Not that Peter was reliant on your attention, he was used to it. So when the texts stopped for three days and he was unable to find any letters he assumed you had lost interest and moved on. That felt fair to him, no harm no foul, at least he never really got to know you. 

Nevermind, there’s a folded notebook page on his miniature desk and his heart speeds up. His next task, put eyes on you. Bottom level, book and pencil in hand. He makes sure to note it’s a pencil and not the green ink that’s spread across the page. 

Peter thinks it’s a mind game, you were smart enough to know he’d look. Unless he was totally wrong on his guess. 

‘Peter- 

I ran out of minutes on my phone and I’m having a broke college kid moment. However, a friend took pity and donated a twenty to the campaign. I hope you’ve been good- I’ve missed talking to you. 

- Your not so secret admirer, X’ 

ps. stop keeping your backpack so close to you.’

It wasn’t anything personal, you just ran out of minutes. Peter smiles so wide he has to drop it, he almost clutches the paper to his chest in a thank you. Eyeing his backpack, he nudges it a little further behind him, following instruction. He’s kept it close in hopes to catch you, but instead he’s pushing you away. 

Peter’s committing the writing to memory as if he’s going to find you by the handwriting alone. A quick glance at footsteps, you’re three steps away when you smile. “Hi, Peter.” He nods, “hey.” You pause for a moment, mind racing for words. 

“Did you, um- did you do anything fun this weekend?” You’re about to crawl into a hole and die, it takes a moment to click that you were speaking to him. He went as far to look behind himself, then he spewed the answer to try and make up for the lost time. 

“Oh, uh not really. My aunt got a new bed so I had to lug the old one down seven flights of stairs.” Your eyes widen, you feel your mouth go dry and your tongue go thick. “By yourself?” Peter crosses his arms over his chest, a boyish grin swept over and you feel heart eyes form. 

“I’m a good nephew.” You want to pat his head and tell him you’re sure he is, then maybe hold him at gunpoint and tell you more stories about how he’s a perfect humanitarian. But you act like a normal human and smile back, “you sound like it.” 

Peter thanks you and you return to your seat with wobbly knees and a weak stomach, it’s silent torture to tease yourself like this with him. But you can’t help it and it’s only in effort to go after what you want. Even if it blows up when he figures out who you are. 

12:13

‘you’re looking mighty handsome today, mr. parker.’ 

‘I’m wearing a hoodie, but thank you.’ 

‘i said what i said.’ 

Boldly, ‘i see someone had another dirty chai. can’t stay away from them, can you?’ 

Another tick in Peter's stomach, he almost looks behind his shoulder at you, but he doesn’t. ‘It was a generous donation from a classmate.’ 

‘oh? pray tell, peter. pray tell.’ 

‘What? You don’t have a clue about who gave it to me?’ 

You swallow thickly, before you could get something out he sent another message. ‘No chance you didn’t see it go down?’ 

‘how could i? I was still on my way.’ 

‘... or was i?’ 

‘Tell you what, X. It one of the best teas I’ve had in a while.’ 

And you’d be damned if that didn’t make your entire chest flutter. 

FRIDAY: 15:29

“Here,” Peter’s hand clasped over the paper slapped into his chest. A hint of a syllable, Brett cuts himself off. “She asked me to give this to you.” Peter quickly read it and stared down before confiding in his friend for a second. 

‘Peter- 

Roses are red, violets are blue, all that I think about is you. 

It’s sweet in a cringy way, right? Boo on you for skipping class today, if you want, I could get you some notes. 

I hope I’ll see you Tuesday. 

-Your (really) not so secret admirer, X

ps. A pen exploded in my pocket. 10/10 chance my thigh will be stained.’

“I think I might know who it is.” 

“Uh, huh.” 

“But, she’s way out of my league.” 

“Correct.” 

Peter raised his eyebrows, “so it’s her?” He clarified with your name, Brett shrugged back. 

“I won’t be confirming or denying.” Peter knows what that means, “the lack of a no usually means yes.” 

“Bro,” Peter starts sputtering, “oh, c’mon! You know what I meant, I just meant that, I just- c’mon, Brett. Is it her?” 

“I have no idea who that is.” Peter wants to call bullshit, he has a gut feeling and he swears it’s you. You’re right, it’s not so secret. In fact, you’re painfully obvious. 

FRIDAY: 23:14 

‘you are soooooooo cute’ 

‘like your hair is so cute’ 

‘i looooove curly hair on guys and you have that!!!!!!!!!’ 

‘and you’re really funny cause like it’s so quick and witty like you have such good one liners’ 

‘also you’re really fucking hot and i KNOW you’re hiding something under those fucking sweaters and the second i see skin i WILL go feral.’ 

‘Something tells me you’re at the Kappa party.’ Peter’s pretending he doesn’t have a searing blush. If he’s got an inkling this could be you… then he might have proof for the non-believers that god exists. 

‘yes!!! are you here?? i should come see you.’ 

‘I hate to disappoint you, but I’m currently at a friend's house playing a Mario Kart drinking game.’ 

“But it’s nice to know that you’d give me your identity that quick.’ 

‘oh i can tell you who i am.’ Peter frowns at the text, he’s been doing nothing but crave the answer to who’s behind the love letters but it feels wrong. It’s not satisfactory enough for him, it’s also not what you want, you’re just drunk- and Peter’s going out on a limb here- horny. 

‘Save it for later.’ 

‘And maybe drink some water.’ 

‘i’d do anything for you cause you have the world's prettiest brown eyes’

‘Thank you for the compliments.’ 

‘you’re super welcome i try to hold them back because i’m a good girl but you’re just so cute i had to let you know’ 

‘I think you’re going to super regret this in the morning.’ 

‘false. maybe fact idk’

‘i should trust you tho because you’re super smart and you’re a nerd.’ 

‘I fear this is taking a turn for the worse.’ 

‘and that is so fucking HOT’

‘Oh. Back to compliments. Thank you.’ 

‘if you were here i’d give you a kiss’

‘IGNORE THAT!!!!’

‘I DIDN’T MEAN TO SEND THAT!!!! IGNORE IT’ 

‘Not ignored. How cute.’ 

‘screaming crying throwing up’ 

‘i really didn’t mean to send that it was a joke ha ha funny.’ 

‘Idk, sounded authentic to me.’ 

‘peter?’ 

‘Yeah?’ 

‘i’m a little drunk rn. and you should know how cute you are.’ 

‘Oh, I’m talking about record breaking levels of regret. This is amazing.’ 

‘i have to pee but i do not reget this!!!!!!’ 

SATURDAY: 09:54

‘i stand by my claim and do not regret a thing.’ 

‘correction. i regret this hangover and the way my previous texts are not very cool girl of me.’ 

‘but i would like to know if you won mario last night.’

‘also, who’s ur fav character?’ 

11:12

1. Proud of you for owning it, that’s very cool girl of you. 

2. I did not win. 

3. Petey Piranha. 

‘who tf is petey piranha.’

‘Mario Kart Sunshine. Came out in 2002. (Originally on GameCube but recently released on switch.) (Hell yeah.)’ 

Your heart thumps, he’s such a nerd and you wanna kiss the air out of his lungs. ‘out of all the characters and u choose him. why petey piranha’ 

‘One guess.’ 

‘PETEY PIRANHA.’ 

‘OH MY GOD.’ 

‘you’re petey piranha <333’ 

Peter fights a grin, ‘I am.’ 

‘you’re so cute. i love that.’ 

‘Personally, in the past 24 hours I don’t think I’ve heard enough about how cute I am.’

‘you’re insufferable and it’s sexy.’ 

‘Oo, new one to the mix. You’re making me blush.’ You really are. He’s never been considered sexy before and it feels really nice. 

‘and i bet you look super cute.’ 

‘Super true.’ 

TUESDAY: 12:34

‘white t shirt white t shirt white t shirt WHITE T SHIRT.’ 

‘You like?’ 

‘i’m about to cry i’m biting my fist so fucking hard.’ 

‘:)’ 

‘you’re so ubuibabeyia.’ 

‘Bless you.’ 

‘?’ 

‘Sorry, I assumed you sneezed.’ Peter never whipped his head around so fast at an audible laugh behind him. It was short, it had escaped without being thought about. He’s looking for you, but it doesn’t seem like it was you who laughed. You’re engrossed in chatting to your neighbor. 

On the other hand, you almost blew it by clasping your hands over your mouth. Instead you looked next to you and said, directly and with a burning gaze, “I need you to pretend we’ve been talking this whole time.” 

‘Someone’s losing their edge, you’re just begging to be caught.’ 

‘oh, i’m begging all right.’ 

‘can you hear me whimpering too?’ 

‘Easy, killer. Let’s not start sexting at noon on a Tuesday.’ 

‘are you saying there is a time for it?’ 

‘Give me a little wave and we’ll see.’ 

‘too late, i’m passed out on the floor. the only thing that can resuscitate me are those thick arms wrapped around me.’ 

‘Let these strong arms sweep you off your feet, all you gotta do is come talk to me after lecture…’ 

Peter says that, but he doesn’t mean it. He’ll definitely eat his words when he sees it’s you, then he’d be coming up with a thousand ways to back out of it. He’s so much more than you deserve, you feel so safe behind a keyboard but in person you can barely say a sentence. 

It’s stupid and a little humbling because you’ve never felt this way about a guy before. 

‘trust me, i’m better in your imagination.’ 

WEDNESDAY: 14:22

‘Peter- 

You know a little about a lot and I think that is one of my favorite things about you. Or maybe it’s your voice. I could listen to you talk forever. 

-Your not so secret admirer, X’ 

A note under his textbook, if he follows his hunch then he’d be looking for… you. Conveniently three tables away and to the right of his own, you’re not looking for his reaction, you’ve got your focus on your own textbook but he swears you’re retaining none of it. It’s a distraction, or maybe it’s a diversion. 

Peter doesn’t mind. He’s going to wait. He has all the time in the world today and he’s going to sit here with his eyes on you until you look up at him because he knows you’re going to and once you do, he’s going to have his answer. 

If he’s right, and he swears he is, he’s going to absolutely lose is shit because what do you mean you like him and are intimidated? You boldly lied when you said you were punching above your weight class. Does it make him a jerk to say he wasn’t even thinking of you as a suitor and maybe a girl with a much more average look?

 Peter counted to sixty twice, you glance up, eyes shooting to the note you left on the table. The next stop, Peter’s face. And oh, you were not prepared to have him looking right back. Panic, you shoot a wave, a desperate attempt to pretend you’re seeing a familiar face. 

Peter waves back but he looks much more satisfied than you did, you wonder if the jig is up. Did he crack the code? Was he just trying to find a friendly way to let you down? Deny til death, he has no proof it’s you. You pack your things up, a hurried scramble before you could lose your cool. 

On the way out you almost stop breathing, your forearm caught in Peter’s hand. You’re staring down at it, he’s not removing it. It burns in the best way. “Hey,” you wait, you can’t stop looking at his hand, the muscle, the subtle flex, his fingertips paler to show his grip. “Hi, Peter.” 

It’s breathless, you think you’re about to die. If he asks, you don’t know how you’ll lie your way out. 

Guess who’s got a stained pocket? The corner edge darkened with black ink that would never be washed out. Peter has his answer. You’re her. You’re X. “Thanks again for the tea.” 

 Maybe you wanted more, you feel a bit deflated when it’s all you receive.

“You’re welcome.” Your arm feels cold when he drops his touch, you linger for a second too long, you’re not sure when you’ll be this brave again. It was too much of a close call. “I hope the rest of your day is good.” 

Peter’s got a charismatic grin, he feels settled now that he knows you’re the anonymous lover in his life. Even more so when you find yourself shy and reserved in person, it almost makes him giggle to think of the stark changes in confidence.

“You too.” Your body engulfs into flames when your arm is caught again, you’re struggling to keep calm at his boyish smile. “Quick question,” you nod slightly, trying to show zero paranoia for the following words. 

“Do you have a boyfriend?” 

Short circuiting. You see black spots, you think you’re about to pass out. There is only one thing that means, no guy asks that if they weren’t interested in changing that, right? 

“No.” It’s anything but graceful. It sounds like you’ve never had a boyfriend before. It makes you sound like you’re scared he asked it. 

But, Peter doesn’t take it like that. He smiles wider, like he already knew the answer before he asked it.

THURSDAY: 16:37

A new letter, stuffed under the top handle of his backpack. Peter listened and stopped setting it next to him, in return he was rewarded. He can’t stop the small smile, you make it involuntary at this point. Peter’s never felt so special in his life, a little part of him wants this to never end. But he’d much rather look you in the eyes. 

‘Peter- 

I had a dream with you in it last night. Don’t worry, you had your clothes on. I’m not sure what we were doing but you were across from me at a diner and we were sitting in those super thick booths and our friends were there. 

I don’t know who these friends were, and I don’t think you do either. But I knew them as our friends. 

It felt really nice. I’m happy to know you, even if I just get this little piece. 

-Your not so secret admirer, X’

Peter’s been wrong a lot in his life but this time he really thinks he has it figured out. He’s much more bold now, this letter tells him it’s not infatuation, it’s love. 

You love him and he thinks he could love you too. 

FRIDAY: 20:08

‘Hey.’ Peter could be making the worst decision of his life here, he could be reading everything wrong and ruining this for himself. 

‘hi peter!’ But he really thinks he’s got it right.  

‘I really, really liked talking to you for the past few weeks but I think I should tell you that I like someone else.’ 

Gut wrenching despair. You knew it was too good to last, you knew he’d find someone more in his league. Someone who’d be willing to show him their face. There was no reason to respond because what would you say to that? 

‘thank you for letting me know that opening up to you was all for nothing!’ 

‘thanks for making me doubt love!’ 

‘hope you and her are so fucking happy together!!!!!’ 

Fuck it all and fuck Peter. He just liked the attention until it came from somewhere else. You don’t think you like him all that much anymore. You think you’re lying, too. Before you can give into the desire of hurting him just as bad, you calmly turn the phone off and stuff it in the back of a desk drawer to never be uncovered again. 

You slowly sit in bed and tug the blankets over your head. And only then, do you allow yourself to sob. 

Peter chewed on his bottom lip and waited an hour with constant phone checks before he realized a response was never coming. It really set in during the weekend but even further when he got no note or letter on monday. Not even when he left his backpack unattended for five minutes. 

TUESDAY -he was able to see you and how you avoided his eyes. How you pretended you didn’t see him send a small wave. How you had pulled back from him. 

And if he hadn’t hurt your feelings, or X’s feelings, why would you do that? 

You look up at a two fingered knock at the corner of your desk. “Hi.” You blink and ignore the white noise buzzing in your ears at the sight of Peter standing in front of you. “Hi, Peter.” 

“How was your weekend?” Bitter. Terrible. Lonely.

“Fine. Nothing exciting.” Besides you breaking my heart. 

Watching his fingertips dance on the edge of the plastic, you feel everything in you brighten. “You look sad.” There’s a burn in your stomach, he’s the reason for both the sting and the sadness. 

“Do you need something? Or are you just doing a friendly check in?” Peter bites back the grin when you snap at him, he’s so, so, so right and it feels so, so, so good. “Neither. I’m just confirming my suspicions.” 

“Suspicions?” 

“Yeah. You passed.” Your eyebrows furrow, before you could try to question further Peter was giving half a wave, saying bye, and skipping a step to his aisle. 

FRIDAY: 12:08

You stop breathing for a solid second before feeling your brain spark back to life. It could be anything, it could be from anyone, but you know there’s only one person who would’ve left a note on your desk. 

Your fingers slightly shake when you unfold the graph paper, little squares bled through with black sharpie. 

‘X-

Am I right?

Hopefully, 

-  Peter’ 

You can’t breathe, you can’t talk, you can’t move and you definitely can fucking not look at him. No, no, no. You can feel his eyes on you, you know he’s watching for your reaction. Peter figured you out and had his own fun along the way. 

You were the girl he liked. Oh, wow. Is this how special you’ve made him feel? Something just for your eyes, from him. A secret you both shared between lines. 

You spin and swear you can feel his gaze running over your back, he’s aching for the answer. You almost scream at a tap on your shoulder, a peek lets you know it’s the person you’re hiding from. 

Another note, folded up just like the other one. It’s pushed into your hand, Peter doesn’t say a word, he just offers and leaves. He’s not watching this time, he’s sitting and focused on the front, you feel air leak back into your lungs. 

Full on panic shaking, you’re so happy he’s not watching. 

Your name is addressed on the front, just like you do for him. 

‘I like you. 

I think you not so secretly like me too. 

We could talk more about it at dinner tonight. Will you let me take you out?

Circle yes or no. 

- Peter.

PS. XOXOXO now you’re responsible for mine, too.’ 

#peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker blurb #my writing

[bia-wayne-west]

Milk with cookies and bedtime stories [Batmom x Damian Wayne]

Synopsis: It was just a few months ago that Damian was included in the Wayne family. He still didn’t like you, but you tried so hard to make him appreciate you. During a patrol, Damian got hurt and after Alfred took care of the little boy’s wounds, you surprised him with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk.

Characters: Damian Wayne and Reader [YOU]

A/N: I wrote this quickly. Hope you like. In this imagine, Batmom has been married to Bruce since he adopted Dick.

I want to apologize if there are any writing errors. I'm a Brazilian girl and I don't speak fluent English, so I may make some writing mistakes. Feel free to correct me.

I hope you read, like and feel how cute Damian is.

Requests are open

MASTERLIST

You were sitting on the kitchen stool, reading a fashion magazine while you waited for your husband to return from patrol.

Bruce forbade you to stay in the Batcave, as he was afraid that someone would break in and find you, alone and unprotected.

As soon as you felt the ground shake, it meant that the Batcave had opened and that Batman had arrived with his Robin, Red Robin, Red Hood and Nightwing.

You ran to the clock that gave access to the secret entrance to Batcave. The elevator quickly took you to where your children and husband were.

“Hey, my love. You got back before 5am!” You said, running up to Bruce Wayne. He still wore black clothes and was without a mask. Your husband didn’t respond. He was serious and had a worried expression on his face.

“A man dropped Damian from a three-story building .” Bruce said looking at the boy who was sitting next to Alfred.

You finally noticed Damian, whose face was bruised and his leg was bandaged. You walked over to the boy and knelt in front of him.

“I’m fine, Y/N. I fell on top of a car and didn’t break any bones.”

“Damian, darling, are you hurt?” You asked, looking into Bruce’s son’s green eyes.

You smiled, in a motherly way. Damian didn’t consider you a mother, unlike the other three boys who called you ‘mother’ and ‘mommy’ all the time. Your husband’s son only considered you as a stepmother, but that didn’t stop you from taking care of him as if he were your son.

“I’m going to run you a hot bubble bath. After Alfred takes care of you, I think you’ll want to relax in the warm water.”

“Thank you, Y/N, but I’m not your baby.” He said rolling his eyes and turning his face to look at Alfred.

“Damian!” Bruce warned his son. But you smiled at your husband, showing that everything was okay. You left the Batcave, heading back to the mansion to prepare Dami’s bath.

(…)

Damian was already in his room. You were heading to the boy's room, with a tray in your hand.

The clock said 2:32 am, but you were sure the boy hadn't slept yet. The Waynes used to sleep only when the sun came up.

Yout left hand knocked lightly on the wooden door with the boy's initials engraved on it. Ypur ears picked up a “you can come in”, authorizing you to enter Damian’s room.

“I came to see if you were okay, Dami.” You said, entering and closing the door behind your body. Your arms came off the tray on the bed, seeing that the boy was sitting on the mattress. “I brought milk and cookies, this will definitely make you feel better.”

“Why do you do these things, Y/N?” He asked, with a questioning look.

“I didn't understand. Don't you like what I do for you?”

“At first I thought you had a plan to win me over and then you would hate me for being Bruce's biological son.” He said, seeing you take a cookie and offer it to him.

“I would never do that. I love you, Dami, even if you don't like me. These things I do for you are normal motherly actions.”

“My mother didn’t do any of that. She only got cookies when she did something good.” He said, his eyes shining like he was going to cry.

“Oh baby. I know you don't consider me your mother and I don't want to force you into anything, but I want you to know that these things I do are because I love you.” You explained, smiling widely at him and drinking some milk. “Do you know what my mother did for me when I was hurt?”

“No.” He said, while devouring several cookies. “She also gave you cookies and milk?”

“Yes, and she also told me a bedtime story.” You argued, running your hand through the boy's hair. “I'll tell you a story.”

“I’m not four years old, Y/N” He murmured.

“Damian, you’re not old enough to hear a good story before bed.”

“OK. Just don't tell stories about princesses or ponies.”

“Clear. I'm going to tell the story of a boy called Dami. He was so brave and beautiful, he was a strong and fearless boy.” His lips formed a smile as he said the words. Damian's eyes were bright and sweet. “One day, he went to the forest to play with the birds and found a portal to a magical world.”

“Like Narnia?: He asked, completely interested in your story.

“Yes, but without the closet. The magical portal led to a kingdom full of witches, fairies, vampires and any magical creature you can imagine.”

“Even elves?” He questioned you again. Now Damian was lying in bed and you covered him with the blanket.

“Of course, elves can't be missed.” You said. Your heart filled with love and you almost cried when you saw the image of the boy who hated you six months ago totally interested in a bedtime story. “In that kingdom there was a crystal that served as oxygen for all beings there, but a terrible villain broke this crystal and stole its essence, leaving the world without magic.” Damian still had complete fun with your narration. “Then, the queen called Martha went and asked the brave Dami to hunt down the villain and recover the essence of the crystal.”

“And he did this?”

“Yes! Dami took a sword and shield and went out to the magical kingdom in search of the villain. He went to an ancient village in the kingdom called Gothym and met three knights named Grayson, Todd and Drake. They sent Dami to the mountains where he would find the villain.”

“And he found it?”

“He found it, but it was difficult. The villain was hiding in a ruined castle north of Gothym. Dami fought bravely with the villain and defeated him. Dami recovered the essentials of the crystal and in exchange, Queen Martha gave him a personal portal to return to the kingdom as often as he wanted. Dami was a brave hero and defeated the evil villain.” You told the story while running your hand affectionately through the boy's hair. “Did you like the story?”

“Yes, it was the best story anyone told me.”

“I'm glad you liked it, my love. If you want, I can tell you a story every night.”

“Todd would make fun of me if he knew.” He said, looking at you so intently that you knew he was embarrassed for having liked the story.

“I'm gonna tell you a secret. I told Dick, Jason and Tim stories for three years, but they didn't want to.”

“Did you tell Todd bedtime stories?” He asked loudly, as if it were some blasphemy.

“Of course, and he loved them all.”

“So I want to hear stories before bed.”

“I'll love telling you, along with a glass of milk and cookies. Good evening, Dami.” You said getting up from the bed. Your lips found the boy's forehead.

“Good night, mom.” He said, making you look surprised at him. “I can call you mom? Since Dick, Jason, and Tim call you Mom, I thought you might as well.”

“Of course, my dear. You can call me mother and I will call you my son.” Your arms wrapped around the body of the boy, your son. Love seemed to explode in your heart. “Good evening, my dear son.”

“Good nigh, mom.”

You gave Damian one last kiss on his forehead, before picking up the tray and taking it to the kitchen. After washing the dishes, you went to the master suite, the room shared between you and Bruce.

Your husband was lying on the king size bed, waiting for you. After showering and putting on your pajama, you laid down on the bed.

“Damian called me mom.” You said to Bruce, earning a smile from him.

“With bedtime stories, milk and cookies.”

“How did this happen?” He asked, setting aside the iPad he was using to hug you.

#imagine #insert reader #fanfiction #fic #fluffy #battinson x reader #bruce wayne x batmom #batmom #batmom x batkids #damian wayne x batmom #batman x batmom #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #reader #justice league x reader #tim drake x you #damian x you #batman x you #fanfic #batmam x damian #bruce wayne x reader wife #bruce wayne x son #batmom wife #tim drake x reader #jason todd #dick grayson #alfred pennyworth #batfamily #batfam

[lynnlovesthestars]

Why?

Pairing: Astarion x Reader. Genre: Hurt/comfort, angst, fluff. Warnings: mentions of past abuse, self-harm, astarion is a little bitch that can't accept someone can take care of him, blood sucking, lots of pulling and letting go i guess?, messy emotions for messy people, self doubt and insecurities. Anxiety, panic attacks, nudity but not sexual. (if i missed something, please let me know. Summary: night is that moment when you can take care of yourself, but what if you find someone that needs more care than you? WC: 4.4k

Author notes: omg i finally finished this one, i've been working on it for a while now and initially it was supposed to be published before i started getting requests, which by the way im loving and im diligently working on<3, anyways this was a small challenge for me, i've been trying to work with stuff i wasn't entirely comfortable with to push my boundaries and learn something new, and this came out.. I hope you'll enjoy this read while I work on the next draft<3 love you lots!

When the moon finally made its way in the sky, and dinner had been consumed, you knew you finally had some time for yourself.

You’d take that time to scrub away the blood that stuck to your skin and the filth of the day. Traveling along a river had it’s pros: you found a nice spot along the bed of the Chionthar that seemed perfect for a bath. 

That night the place was particularly silent, the wind was blowing between the leaves and it was the only sound that you could hear until you passed that  funny rock shaped like a bear.

Initially you thought it was an animal, or at worse a beast, but as you delved closer rhe sound became much clearer. 

Heavy breathing.

It was a sound you could recognize everywhere, because it was a sound you’d make on those nights when anxiety would take over and you felt helpless. Since you went through all the hardships of your life, you promised yourself you’d do your best to help people in need, and in that moment there was definitely someone that needed help.

Your stomach was churning as you followed the shallow breaths that reverberated in the silence of the undergrowth. It led to a small clearing where the moonlight was free to enlight as much as possible of your surroundings. On the opposite side from where you came from, someone was coiled on himself, exposing their bleeding back your way.

The slender fingers clawed at their own flesh leaving deep marks, but it was the whimpering that helped you recognize the person in front of you.

Astarion.

Astarion that was completely naked, his nails were digging into his shoulders, and trembling like a beaten puppy. His clothes were scattered around the clearing, they were ripped in the haste of the panic, you assumed.

You rushed to his side, dropping your bag next to him as you crouched and cradled him to you.

“‘Starion” You whispered as you scanned him, from the way he hid his face, to the red streaks along his chest, the pale skin stained with tears and his glassy, raw eyes.

His whole body was a trembling mess as he couldn’t hold back tears. The slow wails were filling you with anguish as you tried to calm him down just enough so he could make out a few words.

“Who did this to you?” You whispered softly, as you slowly dried his cheeks. The question awoke something in him, he slipped out of your arms before you could object and he tried to sit up.

His arms were shaking as he rested his palms on the leaves-covered soil. “No one.” He turned his head away, his eyes subsequently diverting from yours. “It doesn’t matter anyway.” He breathed out as he tried to stop his eyes from getting more and more teary, yet failing at each attempt.

“Yes, it does.” You insisted, raising your palm and reaching for his cheek. Gently you guided his eyes back to you making sure he knew you cared. Making sure that he knew you only wanted to help him.

The pit in your stomach felt like a dark hole in you, swallowing everything with it. You’ve never seen him like this since you two met, not even when you learned his vampirism while he was starving. 

Even when you learned small bits of his past, like how he got turned, he always kept composure, though you knew he was hurting. Now instead he was so vulnerable.

You felt a pang of guilt hit you, you were invading his personal space and he probably wanted to run away, yet he was growing on you, and if there was something about you, it was that no one hurt the people you cared for. 

“Who did this to you?” You repeated still gently yet firm. You caressed his cheek with your thumb, taking your time to wipe away the remnants of his previous tears.

For a moment he hesitated, he wanted to hold back, but then his body gave out, almost slumping on yours. His eyes were duller, his lips were quivering, and he wasn’t sure he could ever form a full sentence properly, but you were there and you were trying to help him. No one ever tried to help him.

For so long he wished someone would waltz in and come to his rescue. He desperately wished someone would shake him awake from his worn coffin to drag him out of those filthy kennels. He wished someone would dry his tears and heal his wounds, yet for 200 years he suffered alone.

Instead you did much more than what he expected: you insisted, you didn’t recoil disgusted or gave up. You sat there trying over and over to patch him up, to find answers, and to find who hurt him so deeply that he’d end up bleeding alone in a forest.

You knew, of course, that he didn’t tell you his whole story when he opened up, it would have been foolish of him to do so since you were a stranger. He didn’t mention the scars that covered his back, or the constant nightmares during his reverie, cause of course elves couldn’t live without over analyzing things, or the true extent of his master’s punishment. You couldn’t have known yet.

His voice was shaky, broken, a whisper as he muttered Cazador’s name, afraid that even saying his name out loud would be too much, like that would make the monster materialize in front of him, but once he muttered his name, he couldn’t stop his words from being vomited out of his throat like sharing all of this with you was a new compulsion bestowed upon him.

“I was meditating when my brain decided to gift me an old memory” He sighed shakily. “And of course the memory was related to whatever is carved in my back. The pain was so vivid it felt like I was back there, hunched as that bastard was having the time of his life.” His voice was feeble, broken, it was so raw you were not sure how to react.

“When I woke up I was covered in blood and everything was hurting.” His eyes widened for a moment like he could rewatch those images over and over again, right there in front of you.

“My body was clearly not mine anymore, I was taken over by this fear that you’d all hate me for whatever this is, so I ran looking for a spot to hide.” He lowered his gaze.

“I guess before I could look around me, I sank on my knees. I felt like I was suffocating, Tav.” He was trusting you with something that he was running away from, something that terrorized him, something that you knew went opposite of his survival instinct. It was something that made him so fragile that he had to run away from a place that he should have considered safe, your camp.

Despite the gushing wounds he still ran, and yet he allowed you to get a piece of his mind, he didn’t kick you away like he’d usually do.

“My clothes were too much, the pain was too much, everything was too much. I'm not gonna lie. I literally ripped everything off before I could even process what I was going to do to myself. The only thing I knew was that the old scars were open again and they were gushing. I could feel it, Tav. I could feel the blood dripping down my fucking back.” His eyes were brimmed again with tears that he couldn’t hold back even if he tried, it was such a haunting feeling he wished he could erase the memory. “I couldn’t stop.”

He looked at his hands, his fingers were covered in blood and specs of his skin were hidden under his fingers. He was so disgusted at the sight that another sob quivered from his lips.

“You’re safe, nothing can hurt you now.” You leaned forward wiping his cheeks with your palms. 

The remorse in his eyes was vivid, he just had trauma dumped on you and he knew you were going to hate him for it, but then you said his name so gently, so caring, that he allowed you to caress him.

You gave him time to ragain as much control as he could muster before you helped him up. He did look in need of a bath undoubtedly, and you had to go to the river anyways, so you asked him if he wanted to join you. You offered to clean his wounds so he could avoid infections, though you weren’t so sure vampires could get infected like that.

You both took your time standing up, his head was pounding so hard that his balance faltered. Your arms were there for him before he could hit the ground.

How was it possible that whenever he'd be deep in shit, you saved the fucking day? Just that day you did it twice and he would have sworn he didn't deserve any of it.

“I’ve got you” You made sure your arms were anchored on him, steadying his movements, and taking the opportunity to ask him if you could clean his wounds. He wanted so bad to refuse but his body felt so heavy, and his eyes pleaded for help no matter how much he’d try to hide it. Astrarion couldn’t recall a single person that cared for him so tenderly.In the past 200 years all he got was beatings, starvation, indifference, it was all so foreign to him, so much that the words you told him bounced in his head incessantly for days. “I know you can handle it yourself, but it doesn’t mean you should have to do this on your own.” I know you can handle it yourself, but it doesn’t mean you should have to do this on your own.” 

It was like a second nature to you, you could read his eyes like no one ever did. 

Yyu guided him towards the river, in that secluded spot you liked. 

You settled down your bag on a stump, and along with it Astarion’s clothes. You decided you were going to clean those after you were done with your baths, and afterward if your fingers didn’t feel too sore, you’d work on fixing the tear along the back of his blouse.

You picked up the small bunch of bottles, and one of the small towels you usually carried around to clean your wounds. 

Astarion let go of your hand only when you picked up those things, and even in that brief instant, his legs could barely hold him up. It was like he was dragged back in the kennels, like he had not fed in goddamned ages, and he lost too much blood to even breathe.

You didn’t notice it until you turned towards him, his body was quivering like a leaf in the middle of a tornado. 

Despite the tremor and the blood, there was still something about him that leaked confidence, like the hurt that was encompassing him was not making him look smaller, or weaker. It was.. real. 

If you thought you saw through astarion when you first met him, this was the moment you realized you were wrong. When you were slammed in front of this raw sight, you knew.

This was the closest you could get to the real Astarion, and it hurt. You didn’t understand why it hurt so much, but it was much worse than any other pain you could recall. It was a feeling that was eating you from the inside cause you knew his wounds were much deeper than what he shared with you so far.

Nevertheless, you didn’t hesitate to throw the bottles closer to the water and pass to astarion the towel, then before he could even understand what was going on, you whisked him up in your arms. 

He wanted to complain- he wanted to rely only on himself-, but his body didn’t agree. It was like it was screaming at him, screaming to tell him that he needed help and that even for a moment, it would have been okay to let someone patch him up.

You sat him right at the edge of the river, where a log was already propped nicely so travelers could clean themselves without the risks of the flowing water, then without thinking too much about it, you stripped off your own clothes, discarding them quickly. You weren’t embarrassed, or rather, you were, but he exposed so much of himself already, that you felt safe to do it as well.

You joined him, sitting yourself in a spot that allowed you to slip in the water effortlessly, while still being close to Astarion. 

The towel was the trick: you dipped the cloth in the water just enough that you could wipe away the blood without soaking the skin, then you’d gently run it down Astarion’s body to wipe it all.

You worked one small patch at a time, starting with his right shoulder and working your way through his scarred body.

His back was towards you, exposing the carving, which you identified as infernal runes. You cleaned him slowly and with a softness you didn’t know you had in you. 

Everytime you’d move away to dip the cloth in the water, his body would soften, even if for a moment, before the towel grazed again on his scars, and he couldn’t help but flinch ever so slightly.

“I’ve got you” You whispered under your breath as you pressed the cloth on his neck, causing a long shudder to run through Astarion’s back.

He wasn’t sure what if was anymore: whether it was the towel still startling him or your words that seemed to mend him like tiny plasters putting his wounds back together. What you were doing for him.. it was nice. You soothed his skin, while whispering supportive words as you took care of him.

“I won’t let him hurt you again” You whispered while taking a moment to squeeze the blood off the towel, before resuming your slow descent. 

As you worked on another patch of the runes, you couldn’t help but stare at the way the moonlight shone on his skin, it was a sight that otherwise you would never see.

Your eyes took in all his form as you cleaned and cleaned, and you could feel your heart running an extra mile.

The slow passing of time started to affect him after a while, his back slowly hunched under the heavy weight of his thoughts, his breath hitched as you diligently traced his back. No one was ever allowed to touch his back before you. He could feel the tears swelling again under his eyes.

You were so concentrated on cleaning that you didn’t notice until he was almost curled up again, and you helped him up. 

You kept your arm around his waist so he couldn’t fall prone as you started working on the wounds on his chest, and that’s when his eyes met yours, the crimson was shining as the tears piled and piled on them, the moon only served the purpose of highlighting them.

Then when you scooted him closer to you and allowed his back to rest against your chest, he was a crying mess again.

This time his lips were moving before his brain could process his thoughts, for a moment you could see his sanity slip away hidden in the drops of his tears. 

“Why?” He pleaded. “Why? Why? Why?” His voice rose between choked sobs.

“Why now?” The more he would ask, the more his voice would raise, until it finally broke in a whisper again.  “Why didn’t you show up earlier? I could have been plucked from...” His words felt like a stab right through your chest.

"Shh" You whispered as you left the bloodied rag on his thigh, and you wrapped your other hand around his waist. 

"I might have not made it in time, but I promise you I'm not leaving your side now" You pulled him on your lap, leaving a soft kiss on his temple. You knew that if he was still alive, you’d feel his chest pound incessantly as everything became overwhelming, but the only sound you could perceive was the rushing of the water. In any other occasion you would have hated the closeness of your naked bodies, you would have been weary of such intimacy, yet it felt different. It felt right.

“Why? Why are you doing this?” He asked when his breath finally set down again, and the only memory of it was the long streaks of tears still sulking his skin. 

“Cause you don't deserve this” You still held him close as you lowered your voice, making sure the sound of the water could shield you both if you needed it, like a bubble around you.

“Liar” His tone matched yours, but with much more spite. “I've done awful things” He shook his head, it was something that heavily plagued him, he’d often have flashes of some of the horrible things he did, and that moment was one of them: he could hear the echo of the screams of the poor victims he’d bring back to Cazador.

“That doesn’t mean you deserved torture.” You cooed. “You didn’t have a choice.” You traced small soothing circled on his hip as you still held him close.

He sighed deeply, he knew you were right as much as he wanted to say that he could have ran away. The memory of the darling boy and the consequence of his action were a fierce reminder of it, everyday of his life.

“You are a fool.” He sneered. “I have stabbed in the back everyone I got close to, and you are still doing…” He pointed at the two of you, at the position you are sharing, at the rag on his thigh, at your arms around him, and the words you just told him. “This.”

“I like taking risks.” You chuckled softly.

“This is not a risk, you are doomed to fail and you are a dimwit” He rolled his eyes, evidently it was obvious for him, unlike you that still believed fairytales.

“Am I?” You didn’t falter, in that moment you felt confident in your choice.

“Are you forgetting the knife I held at your throat darling? What makes you think I wouldn’t do it again?” He retorted trying to make you waver, it was his survival mechanism at the end of the day. If he was able to slither in just enough doubt, he wouldn't’-

Your words caught his attention again right away, as you started counting on your fingers. 

“The fact that we’ve been traveling together for 3 weeks, that I let you feed off me several times and you have not sucked me dry, the fact that you told me about your past, and that you allowed me to just wipe away blood from your back.” You stopped for a moment, building up tension and to perceive what went through his mind in that moment. “..and the fact that you are literally crying in my lap.” You finished.

“Okay what if i'm just manipulating you? How would you tell?” What was the game he was playing? 

“I don’t think that what i witnessed tonight could be faked, ‘Starion” You finally sighed, relaxing your shoulders. You didn’t even feel your body tense up, that’s how much you were absorbed by this conversation between you two, cause it was so confusing.

He didn’t answer anymore at your last remark, he just allowed you to finish your work diligently as he was lost in thought again. 

You made sure his wounds were clean before leaving the rest of his body up to him, and then you finally took your time to properly clean yourself as well as your clothes. 

Drying your skin was by far the hardest step since you carried only one big towel with you: you opted to pat your bodies dry before slipping in your clean clothes, then you’d give him the towel to cover himself, since his clothes were in heavy need of repair.

The walk back to camp was fairly silent, since Astarion was still affected by the blood loss and you were lost in your thoughts.

You left your wet clothes next to the fire where they could dry while you’d rest, and then you started to walk back to your tent.

When you were just a few steps away from your little nook, you remembered.

Instead of sneaking directly into your tent, you made a beeline towards Astarion’s. He was still outside, sorting a few empty containers he had around, while his frustration was palpable in the air.

“‘Starion” You called quietly, avoiding to wake up everyone else.

“What? Are you here to give me your pity?” He scoffed as he was still fixated on the conversation you just had.

“Actually, I was wondering if you needed to be fed.”Your voice betrayed your worry which was loud and clear. “Earlier I noticed you were struggling, and your eyes are.. dulled” You explained, you wanted to pat his shoulder but you stopped just a moment before you touched him.

“So? Are you going to make fun of me if I am?” His walls were back up, the vulnerable elf you saw earlier rushed away behind this mask he carefully handpicked to push you away.

“No, you can feed off me though” You suggested encouraging. “If you want of course, take 

your time, I’ll be in my tent” The last thing you hear was a muffled ‘thanks’ as you made your way to your tent again.

Astarion finally made up his mind, he strode quickly toward your canopy. “Darling?” He brought your attention to him. Your tent’s entrance was wide open, offering zero privacy to you as you were nose deep in some tome.

“Hey, come in.” You smiled, you were glad he was no longer avoiding you. “Can you please unhook the flap?” You asked while you moved the book away from the two of you. “I don’t wanna make you feel too exposed” You clarified.

“I appreciate it, but are you sure you want me to feed off you? I mean I know it’s not the first time, but it’s-” He hesitated, sure he wanted you to stay away, but at the same time that thought made him flinch away, like he should have felt differently.

“Yeah I’m sure” The apple of your cheeks warmed up at the nervousness, especially when you noticed he was fidgeting with his fingers. “You lost so much blood and the shock.. you definitely need to get your fill” 

“Thanks” He avoided your eyes before sitting next to you.

On the other hand you took your time readjusting your little reading corner, making sure it would comfortably hold both of you. 

“Just relax, I’ll take care of everything” He finally gave you the closest thing to a smile after a whole evening of tears. His arms wrapped around your middle as he helped you to lay with him. His touch was impossibly gentle: he moved away your hair and tilted your head to expose your neck, but he didn’t bite right away.

His teeth grazed your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as he held you to him, just like earlier you held him to you. He traveled down your neck with his lips, looking closely for your pulse, or so you assumed, then when he found a nice spot, he sunk his teeth in your flesh. Your body tensed for just one moment as you could feel his lips press around the wound, and your blood slowly leaking out.

Then you became putty in his hands, the dizzying sensation rocked you sweetly as you let it take over you.

He was slow, tender. 

He held your head gently and pulled you impossibly close, almost as he wanted to fuse your bodies.. His legs naturally tangled with yours while he sucked and sucked on your skin like his life depended on it.

It took everything of you to repress the whimpers that would build up in your throat, it was different from all the other times he drank from you: in the past you’d just be very tense, but in that moment you felt like air was directly pulled out of your lungs, like your body was being set on fire. 

He wasn’t in any different condition, he was barely  repressing the moans as your warm blood rushed against his tongue, and his breath was hardly regular. 

Even your blood tasted different, sweeter than before taking over all his senses. It was madness, it was like your blood suddenly turned into a drug he couldn’t resist, making his head spin.

He stopped only when he noticed you were starting to slump in his arms, a sign that you were getting too close to a no-going-back point.

He took time to lap away the blood that was still leaking from the pinpricks, sending jolts down your limbs, and stealing a sweet mewl from your lips. He didn’t concentrate on the sound he coaxed off your lips, cause he knew that if he did he’d probably spiral into insanity, so he focused on the wound he had inflicted, leaving a few kisses right where the pricks of his teeth made home, before reaching for your blanket and covering you with it. 

He didn’t let go of you, or move at all for what it mattered, he had to internalize all those feelings that were overwhelming him before he could walk out. He knew that if he didn’t stop there until he was back in himself, he would have felt dizzy as well, and he wasn’t fond of the idea of passing out on the floor.

Was he blood drunk? Whatever feeling was cursing through his body, he wasn’t sure he could identify it, but moving was not an option anymore when he noticed you were still nudged in his embrace. He tried to sneak away, but you were cradled on him, ‘peace’ crossed his mind before it got swept away by something you’d mumble, he had to wait for a bit to catch what you said since you murmured something he couldn’t quite comprehend, until your voice became clearer.

“I wish I could have saved you sooner” You murmured under your breath. “Stay, i’ll protect you.” Your arms around his waist pulled him closer to you, slotting your bodies together like pieces of a puzzle. Your warmth, your sweet flowery smell, your surprisingly gentle snore slowly lulled him in, closer and closer until he felt safe, and quietude took over him.

#vault: lynn ☆ #baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #bg3 #astarion angst #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate astarion #astarion acunin #astarion brainrot #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion fic #astarion fluff #astarion x female reader #tav x astarion #bg3 fanfic #bg3 x reader #bg3 x tav

[soursturniolo]

questions • matt sturniolo

pairing: matt/reader

summary: when matt suddenly pulls away from the reader, they are left to try to figure out what went wrong. angst then fluff.

TW: depiction/description of a panic attack. if this is triggering content for you and you skip this fic I completely understand, please take care of yourself.

“I’m just busy right now, we can just move our date to some other night,”

“It’s not that deep, it’s just a party for friends, you misunderstood. I’ll see you tonight maybe. Don’t wait up,”

“Sorry, I just don’t feel like cuddling much anymore,”

“Obviously I still love you, if I didn’t I’d ask you to move out,”

Very callous responses became the usual. Over the past two weeks, Matt had changed a bit. He was less affectionate, less caring. He was blunt and direct and some times came off uncaring. It really hurt, if I’m being honest. I had tried talking to him, seeing if it was something I had done or if he was going through something and each time I was quickly and angrily brushed off. I don’t like arguments so I always just dropped the topic.

He’d also withdrew physically from me. There was no cuddling at night anymore. No kisses. No hand holding. No random hugs from behind. It the past week I think he’d kissed my forehead a couple times, if that. It was the polar opposite of what was our norm, and I don’t understand it at all. A couple times I tried to initiate a hug and he’d stiffen up and pull back, and I’d be left with my arms outstretched and an embarrassed flush painting my cheeks.

Tonight, I tried to give him a kiss when I decided to go to bed before him. I leaned in and he quickly turned his head so I kissed his cheek instead. If he saw the tears in my eyes after he did that, he didn’t say anything. My cheeks burned with embarrassment under the confused gazes of his brothers as I walked quietly and quickly to our room, trying my best not to completely break down. I was losing him, I’m sure of it now.

I found myself sitting on the edge of what for now is still our shared bed in our bedroom when I hear a knock on the bedroom door.

“Come in”, I croak out, my throat thick with emotion before I clear it.

The door opens and I see Nick peak his head in.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks softly, a frown on his face. That one question makes the walls I had tried to build up break. I shake my head as sobs begin to pour out of me. It’s ugly tears, loud heart wrenching cries coming out of my mouth even as I try to stop them with my hand over my mouth. Nick quickly comes in, leaving the door open as he sits by me on the best, pulling me into his chest. The comfort he gives me just makes me cry more, because I so desperately wish he was Matt right now.

“I’m so sorry, I know that was so mean,” he says, hand rubbing soothing circles on my back as I cry.

“Oh, ma, please don’t cry over him,” I hear Chris’s voice come from the doorway, and footsteps approach Nick and I. The bed dips next to me as he sits on my other side, his hand rubbing my shoulder.

“I just don’t understand what I did,” I pitifully cry out to them both.

“You didn’t do anything,” they both reply at the same time.

I sniffle as I pull myself back from Nicks embrace, standing in front of both of them as they remain seated on the bed.

“He’s missed our date nights. He’s refused to bring me to parties that I’ve been invited to come along to. He didn’t even care when I asked him if he still loved me last week. He just kind of laughed and said if he didn’t he’d have me leave. Now tonight I can’t even kiss him. I don’t understand.” I cry out, my hands flailing around as I talk and pace.

“Has he said anything to you guys? Did he tell you what I did? If I knew I’d fix it. I can fix it. Whatever I did for him to be like this to me, I’ll fix it,” I stutter out, my breathing getting faster and more labored. My hands tremble as I feel my chest tightening with anxiety and hurt. I try to breathe but it’s like I can’t catch my breath no matter what.

“Hey, hey, just try to breathe,” Nick says calmly, “you’re having a panic attack, but it’s all going to be okay, just breathe with me” he says, motioning for me to follow and mimic his own deep and slow breathing. I try to suck air into my lungs as he does, but gasp and cough as I fail to match him. I get scared as my vision starts to get spotty. Nick and Chris both stand with me now. Chris gently and slowly grasps my hand, bringing it to his chest.

“Feel that?” He asks softly. I focus on my hand and can feel his steady pulse and slow breathing. I nod, still unable to speak.

“Okay, just focus on Chris and his heart and his breathing. Feel it and try to match it,” Nick encourages.

I let my eyes drift closed as I focus on Chris. Slowly, my breathing evens out. I let out a deep breath as I open my eyes back up, removing my hand from Chris’s chest. Five or so minutes had passed. I feel exhausted, it has been so long since I last had a panic attack and I had forgotten how much it tires you out.

I look up slowly to see both Nick and Chris looking at me with concerned expressions.

“I’m sorry, I’m okay now, just really tired,” I whisper, voice hoarse from struggling to breathe.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Chris says apologetically.

“And for the record, in response to your question, Matt hasn’t said anything to us. We’re just as confused by him. You didnt do anything, I’m sure. You know how he is, he gets in his own head and isn’t so good at talking to people about what’s bugging him,” Nick explains, trying to make me feel better.

“He used to talk to me about what’s bothering him. Now he barely talks to me at all,” I whisper. Both boys share sad looks, which just makes me feel more dejected.

“I’m going to bed, when do you think Matt will come?” I ask them quietly, turning back to the bed and moving the covers, getting ready to climb in. Both brothers once again share a look, concerning me.

“What?” I ask.

“He um, he left after you came in here. Something about needing some space. Said to not wait up.” Chris says, looking down and not meeting my eyes.

“Oh,” I whisper, voice cracking as I nod, biting my lip.

I go ahead and climb into bed, settling under the covers as the two brothers watch with dismal looks on their faces.

“I’m fine now, guys. I’m sorry. I just need some sleep now, I’ll see you both in the morning.” I promise them both, yawning towards the end of my sentence. The both nod and give me a small smile, telling me goodnight and leaving the room. As they shut the bedroom door behind them, I snuggle down into my pillows on my side of the bed, letting sleep pull me under.

My eyes slowly blink themselves open as I wake in the night. I pick up my phone to see I’ve only been asleep for two hours. My mouth is dry and my throat feels scratchy so I throw the covers off of me as I get up, deciding to get a glass of water from the kitchen. I slowly rise from the bed, noticing sadly that Matt’s side remains undisturbed, showing that he’s never come to bed. I sigh as I walk out of our bedroom, heading down the hall to the kitchen, stopping when I hear raised voices coming from the living room. I stay hidden in the hall as I listen.

“You can’t keep doing whatever this is to her, man! You didn’t see how heartbroken and distressed she is,” I hear Chris say.

“I know, Chris! You’re not helping you’re just stressing me out even more!” Matt hollers at him.

“Matt. It was bad. The poor girl had a fucking panic attack in front of us, thinking she’s done something wrong and asking if we knew what it was so she could fix it. She doesn’t deserve this,” Nick tells him, surprising me with how calm he sounds when usually he’s the loudest one.

“She had a panic attack? While I was gone earlier?” I hear Matt question, voice suddenly quiet and sad.

“Yeah, it was bad, but we got her to calm down and she went to sleep after. We checked on her a couple times before you got back just because we’re worried about her. It doesn’t seem like she’s sleeping well though,” Chris explains.

“You need to just talk to her. Just tell her what you told us,” Nick encourages.

Tell me what? I feel my stomach fill with dread. But I want answers, so I decide to make my presence known. I walk from my hiding spot in the hall through the kitchen and to the living room. Matt’s back is to me, and as Chris and Nick see me their eyes widen before they turn to look at each other and then at Matt.

“Tell me what?” I say, voice quiet but scratchy sounding from sleep still.

I watch as Matt’s back stiffens at the sound of my voice, before he slowly turns to face me. Nick and Chris quickly excuse themselves and head upstairs, bidding us both good night.

“Maybe we should talk about this in the morning?” Matt suggests hesitantly. I quickly shake my head, crossing my arms as I stand in front of him.

“No Matt. I want to talk about this now. I have questions. Do you know how horrible this has been for me? Overnight everything changed. You pulled away from me. From our relationship. You stopped talking to me. You stopped telling me you loved me. You stopped hugging me or kissing me. Tonight you wouldn’t even let me give you a kiss before bed. You’re freezing me out and I don’t even know what I did. But whatever I did wrong I’d like the chance to fix it,” I say softly, voice practically pleading for him to just talk to me.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he whispers, finally meeting my eyes.

“Then what’s going on? Is there someone else?” I ask, voice breaking when I ask the question I dread asking the most.

“No! God no. I’d never.” He quickly swears, eyes wide and hurt due to my suggestion of him cheating.

“Okay, sorry. I just— I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on, Matt,” I explain, throwing my hands up in exasperation.

“Im scared,” Matt says, voice nervous as he picks at his nails looking down.

“So am I. Just tell me, are you breaking up with me? Is that what this is?” I ask, voice cracking again.

“No! I’m not going anywhere, at least I don’t want to, I don’t know how you’re going to react to what I’m about to tell you. But this is hurting you too and I never wanted that,” he assures me, reaching out for me before stopping himself for some reason.

“Just tell me. If you’re not leaving me, if you didn’t cheat, if you still love me, then whatever it is we can work it out,” I say, walking up to him and closing the distance between us. The lights are dim, and it’s just him and I standing in the middle of the room. I reach out and grasp Matt’s hands in mine, stopping him from picking at his nails. I let out a subconscious sigh of relief when he doesn’t pull away, instead giving my hands a squeeze.

“Here it goes,” Matt says, letting out a nervous breath, “I pulled away because I got scared. A couple weeks ago I had this dream about us. It was so real. We got married. It was the happiest day of my life. We had kids, our own little family. They had my eyes but your smile and all three of them were just perfect. We had this house out in the woods with a huge play-set for our three little ones and we had a dog and a cat and my brothers lived just a couple minutes away and it was just everything I know I want. And it’s with you. And it made me realize, you’re it. You’re the one. You’re the only person I picture and want for all of that. And I’m freaking out because we’re so young, but I swear if we had it all tomorrow I’d be ready. But I don’t know how you feel. I know you love me, I’ve never doubted that, but I just. I’m ready to start that chapter. Slowly start it. But I’m afraid maybe you aren’t, and now I just sound like a crazy eager boyfriend who is going to scare you away because I’m too serious too quick,” he tells me, searching my eyes.

I feel a lovesick smile stretch across my face as I gaze up into his eyes.

“So, I’m hearing that there’s a ring in my future?” I joke, trying to break the tension that seems to be eating Matt alive.

“If you want it, yes, it’s yours. And anything else you want,” he whispers.

“I want all of that too Matt. I love you. I’m in this relationship wholeheartedly. I want a future with you. A marriage, a house, pets, kids, all of it. You don’t have to be afraid because I’m right here and I’m telling you I want all of that and I’m so glad and feel so lucky that you want all of that with me too,” I promise him, before leaning up and connecting our lips softly. I feel him smile against my lips as we kiss. One of his arms snakes its way around my waist as his other hand comes up to cup the back of my head gently.

We pull away slowly and reluctantly, wanting to talk more but also enjoying the closeness we’ve both been missing in our relationship over the past couple weeks. We both stay up late that night talking about his dream and our real future together.

When he kneels down in front of me with a ring and a certain question two months later, I smile knowing our love story is just beginning.

tag list: @secret-sturniolo @sturniolopepsi @christinarowie332 @mangosrar @cupidsword @st4rswrld @biimpanicking @bernardenjoyer @lovingsturniolo @loveesiren @sturnphilia @mxqdii @oh-toseewithoutmy-eyes @its-jennarose @fionaheartswomen @hedgehogperalta @lea0518 @lxvlysworld @mattsd0ll @urmyslxt @thetriplets3 @lilsxo10 @recklesssturniolo @meg-sturniolo @flowerxbunnie @mlimmm @querenciasturniolo

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew bernard sturniolo #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets fanfiction #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo

[tcubunny]

dom!jihyo x sub!fem!reader - “secrecy” (warnings: smut, slight angst, cursing, voyeurism, breast play, fingering, clit stimulation, first time, praise)

a/n: AHH i’m excited to be back even if it’s a little different and not very stable, thank u guys for waiting <3 anyway, enough about me. this is going to be the initial story on how the reader got tangled up in twice’s relationship. when i refer to tzuyu and chaeng being “teary eyed” in the story, that doesn’t necessarily mean they were getting punished. hope u guys find it decent even though this is something very different and new. enjoy 😘

word count: 4.7k

first it was just jihyo and nayeon sneaking around, locking themselves in a bedroom for a few hours, or trading mischievous looks. it seemed strange of course, but you accepted it and moved on; it wasn’t any of your business anyway. then you noticed it happening with jeongyeon and momo as well. they seemed to also engage in whatever it was that nayeon and jihyo were initially doing.

momo became extremely abrasive towards her older members and jihyo, but not in a genuine way, it seemed almost…flirty? no, that couldn’t be. you once again convinced yourself that you were overthinking—and once again; it was none of your business.

it became much harder to ignore when it started happening with sana, mina, and dahyun. you took notice of sana’s sudden brattiness around certain people for lack of a better word, and the way she would practically melt on the spot when jihyo shot her an angry look. the way mina would quietly squirm on the couch when she was sitting next to nayeon, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. you also noticed bruises on dahyun’s shoulders and chest. she clearly thought she was hiding them well, but that wasn’t the case.

it became all you thought about, but you were far too scared to ask. even when tzuyu and chaeyoung eventually started going into the others’ rooms at night and coming out hours later—sometimes teary eyed and with marks on their necks; you remained silent. even when what was going on became blatantly obvious, you still didn’t dare speak about it.

of course it hurts, you can’t pretend it doesn’t, but what can you do? you don’t know how to subtly hint that you so desperately want to be included, and god knows you’re not brave enough to outright asks anyone to let you participate. what would you even say? how does one ask a questions like that? “hey, i can tell there’s some sort of secret sex club i’m not a part of, can i j-“

shit.

your bedroom door shoots open, and you can hear momo and jihyo giggling as they walk in and shut it behind them. you’re frozen, you don’t think they’ve noticed you yet. momo being here is very normal, this is her bedroom as well, but it’s not jihyo’s, so you can only assume what they’re doing here.

“jihyo, stop. look.”

fuck, is she talking about you? it’s too late now, you can’t just get up and exit the room. your best option is just to be quiet and pretend to be sound asleep.

“it’s fine, she’s asleep.“

you hear what sounds like a kiss, you feel your face redden and suddenly start burning up under the covers. you know you shouldn’t be present right now, you feel like a creep, but at the same time, you can’t help but be extremely turned on.

“what if she’s not?” “oh my god, shut up.”

you hear kissing again, followed by giggling from both parties. you listen attentively, hyperaware of the wetness growing between your legs and the warmth in your cheeks. you want to turn and face them, but you can’t risk moving even an inch.

“take this off.” you hear jihyo almost whisper in a low, sultry voice that instantly makes your already soaking pussy even wetter. your desire to turn around is unbearable, you feel like you might explode.

“you take it off for me, please.” momo sounds so desperate all of the sudden, it just turns you on even more. your core aches, you swear you can feel the blood rushing to it. “of course, my love.”

my love.

that sounds divine coming out of jihyo’s mouth. how you wish she were talking to you instead.

you hear more kissing and clothes hitting the floor, keeping yourself still is becoming an impossible task. every single noise is driving you insane, you’re completely overtaken by the way they softly moan and whine between kisses.

so overtaken, in fact, that you don’t even realize when all the sound stops.

“you think she’s had enough of pretending to be asleep?”

holy shit.

you panic trying to think of an explanation as to why you were spying on them while they fucked, but you can’t come up with anything.

“c’mon, get up.” jihyo calls out to you, but you still don’t move. “we caught you, staying quiet isn’t going to do anything.” momo’s voice sounds like it’s getting closer, which is proven true when you feel them sit down on the bed.

“are you really not going to speak to us?” you almost get up, but jihyo’s next words leave you completely immobile.

“don’t you want to join us?”

you can instantly feel the slick soaking through your shorts. what the fuck are you supposed to do now? tell them that you’ve wanted to join them for months? stay quiet? jump off a cliff perhaps?

“y/n…”

“y/n.”

“Y/N!”

your eyes suddenly shoot open and you see jihyo violently shaking you.

of course, it was a fucking dream.

“good morning. it’s almost 11, how long are you going to sleep?” you groan at her and she pulls you up by your hands. “come eat, you can’t be on an empty stomach so late.”

she walks out of the room and you groggily stay sitting up in bed until you finally feel something wet between your thighs. what was happening in the dream wasn’t real, but your reaction definitely was because your underwear is soaked.

you stand up rubbing your eyes and walk to the bathroom to shower. as you shower, you keep replaying the dream in your head. you’re so angry at yourself for it, but you can’t stop. you only snap out of it when the water turns cold and you have to get out.

you’ve started to almost dread being with everyone else because that feeling of not being being included is always present. even if it’s an average conversation and there’s no subtle hint or underlaying meaning, you can’t shake it off.

you head into the living room where most of the girls are sitting on the couch. you take notice of sana’s flirty giggling as she’s talking to nayeon, and dahyun’s hand covering a fresh mark on her neck, but you try your best to ignore it.

you walk to the kitchen where jeongyeon and tzuyu are, the hand on tzuyu’s waist flys off as soon as they notice you. “good morning!” tzuyu walks over to you and hugs you.

“how’d you sleep?” jeongyeon asks while also walking over to you. “i slept okay. you guys?” they answer and walk into the living room with everyone else.

you grab something quick to eat try sneaking back up to your room, but jihyo stops you.

“you’re not even going to acknowledge us?” you turn around, smiling and telling everyone good morning. you start walking away again, but jihyo doesn’t let you.

“won’t you sit with us, your majesty? will you grant us the great honor of blessing us with your presence for a few minutes?” she asks in a mocking tone and looks over at nayeon, exchanging incredulous looks with her.

jihyo pats down a spot next to her for you to sit and you do so. she puts her arm around you and brings you in for a hug. you pull away nearly instantly and she furrows her brows at you. “seriously what is up? do you not like us anymore?”

you dismiss her question and everyone stays silent for a while until momo speaks up about something random. you sit on your phone, ignoring whatever is happening around you. you’re absentmindedly scrolling through instagram and still thinking about that goddamn dream.

before you realize, it’s already the afternoon. everyone else is still talking or watching the tv.

when sana and nayeon get up holding hands, nobody bats an eye, but you do. you don’t know what came over you, but you just had to comment on it.

“why is it a problem when i get up and leave but it’s not when any of you do so?”

nayeon and sana stop dead in their tracks and look around, waiting for someone to say something. jihyo scoffs and stands up in front of you.

“i’m so serious right now, what is your issue lately? why are you acting like this?”

your nose burns and your eyes start watering at her remark. what does she mean? you wouldn’t be acting like this if they weren’t excluding you from something everyone else is involved in.

“you guys, all of you, you’re my issue and you know why!”

you storm out and run to your room wiping your tears as you hear everyone shouting for you to come back. you get inside and slam the door shut, laying down in bed and sobbing into your pillow.

after months of enduring this and staying quiet, you just couldn’t handle it anymore. they’ve driven you to think there’s something wrong with you—something they don’t like. there has to be a reason why they’re doing this, but what? you feel bad for telling them they were your issue, but then again, why would you feel bad if they haven’t shown an ounce of remorse?

you keep crying uncontrollably until you hear a knock at your door. “leave.” you shout back in between choked sobs. whoever is on the other side doesn’t listen to you and walks in anyway.

“it’s me.”

you hear tzuyu’s voice as she sits beside you. you turn to face her, doing your best to make your face look better.

“why are you here? are you gonna ask me about my ‘issue’ as well?” she gets closer to your and takes your hand in hers. “no, i just genuinely want to know what’s wrong. you can’t deny that you’ve been distant lately.”

you sit in silence with her for a few seconds before finally speaking up about everything you’ve been holding back.

“tzuyu, do you all take me for such an idiot? do you really think i haven’t noticed what you guys do when you think i’m not looking? all of the sneaking around, and weird looks, and touching each other, and everything else, i notice it all.”

you pause to wipe your tears and take a breath.

“i’m not stupid, i know what’s going on.”

tzuyu exhales deeply and gives you a hug. “listen, i won’t pretend like you’re not correct, but i don’t know if i can do anything about it. and i know how you feel, i felt the same way. it’s not that you’ve done anything or there’s something wrong with you, they just think you’re too young.”

what she’s saying makes sense, and it makes you feel better, but at the same time it doesn’t because there’s nothing you can do to “fix” your age. “i’m only one year younger than you, i don’t understand.” she hugs you again and wipes a tear from your cheek.

“i’ll try to do something for you, i promise.” she gets up and walks out of the room, giving you a smile and blowing you a kiss as goodbye.

you spend the rest of the day avoiding going outside as much as possible, but eventually your stomach forces you out. you walk straight into the kitchen, not making eye contact with anyone. you eat something quickly and start walking to your room, but as you’re passing by the couch jihyo grabs your arm and pulls you down to whisper in your ear.

“come to my room in about an hour.”

she lets go of you and tunes back into the conversation. you walk away, puzzled at her request. did tzuyu say something to her?

you spend the next hour anxiously pacing back and forth in your room, wondering what will happen. there’s so many possible ways this could play out, and you’re not ready for any of them. all you can do is hope that it’ll turn out well.

the time quite literally flew by and you’re still in the same state, but you can’t make jihyo wait.

your hands are sweating as you walk to her room and your heart feels like it’s going to pound straight out of your chest. when you get there, you take a deep breath and knock on the door.

“come in.”

your hand shakes on the doorknob as you open it. you stare down at the floor while walking into the room, too scared to look up at jihyo. you try locking the door behind you as a reflex, but she stops you.

“no need to do that, my love.”

fuck, it already sounded hot in your dream, but it sounds infinitely better in person.

“tzuyu told me what you told her, and i think it’s time we have a chat. do you want to do that?” you freeze and your eyes widen, you’ve imagined this moment a thousand times but somehow you can’t react. jihyo laughs at your nervous state and it sends shivers down your spine.

“why are you being so quiet?” you try to stutter out a response, but can’t do so successfully. “okay, you don’t have to talk right now, don’t worry.” she takes a pause and you nod. “come sit.” she pats her lap and you hesitate to follow her instructions until she beckons you with her hand.

as soon as you sit down, you can feel the cold slick on your underwear and wonder if jihyo can feel it through your shorts. she looks at you while playing with your hair and you can feel yourself growing wetter by the second.

“i know that you’ve known what was going on for a while, princess.” the hand previously playing with your hair is now inside your shirt, pressed against your lower back. “and i know what you may think is the reason we haven’t included you, but i can assure you that whatever you’re thinking, that’s not it.” now she can definitely feel how wet you are on her thigh.

“you’re just our baby, we didn’t want to throw you into anything too soon. you can understand that, can’t you, darling?”

“mhm.” you swear you’re trying to form cohesive sentence or at least phrases, but that’s not an easy task when jihyo is drawing circles on your thigh; gradually inching closer to the spot where you need her most.

“i’m really sorry for making you so sad, but i think you’re mature enough now, do you agree?” you give her an enthusiastic nod in hopes that she’ll hurry up and do something already, but she doesn’t.

“good, i’m glad we’re on the same page.” she changes your position on her lap so that you’re straddling her and you almost let out a whine in anticipation.

“i want you to tell me if anything is too much, okay?” you nod again and she smiles at you.

she places a hand on your waist and sneaks the other one inside your shirt. she presses her lips against your collar bone and you unwillingly let out a moan. she huffs at your vocal response. “are you really that excited, love?” “yes.”

she continues placing soft kisses all over your collarbone and neck. at first you’re content with that alone, but soon the aching between your legs becomes too much. “jihyo…”

she pauses what she’s doing and looks into your eyes, moving the hair out of your face. “what is it, princess?” you knew exactly what you were going to say a second ago, but her gaze somehow stripped you of all thoughts. “more.” is all you can manage to get out. “more? are you sure?” “yes, please, i can’t keep waiting.”

your begging comes out in a breathy sentence as your body grows hotter. you’ve waited enough for this, you can’t keep going.

“you’re so cute.“ she smiles at you before lifting you off her lap and placing you beside her on the bed. “lay down.” you do what she says without thinking about it twice. “you’re such a great listener, love. i know a few people that would greatly benefit from your company.” as you take in her sentence it finally hits you that you’re really going to be a part of this. you don’t even know what that entails, but the curtain has finally dropped.

you were definitely showing your epiphany on your face because of jihyo’s laughing. “don’t worry, you’ll understand better soon enough. for now, stop thinking about anyone but us two okay?”

she doesn’t wait for your response and finishes her sentence with a kiss. you can feel your face heat up as soon as it happens, and apparently this amuses jihyo. “do i really make you that flustered?” she leans back down for another kiss and you grab her shirt, not letting her come back up.

her lips feel soft and warm, just like you’d imagined for so long. she leans down further and you can feel her breasts press against yours; your clothes start to feel uncomfortable and restricting. her tongue pushes its way into your mouth and without breaking the kiss, she pulls off your shorts and tosses them aside.

“remember what i told you earlier?” you nod, just wanting her to continue, but not really knowing what she means specifically. you guess it was what she said about telling her if anything is too much. she pulls away from your lips and you whine in frustration.

she places soft kisses on your neck while pulling your shirt up. you’re not wearing anything under it—partly because you normally don’t when you’re staying in for the day, but admittedly because you were desperately expecting since jihyo told you to meet her in her room.

you try to cover up when you notice her staring at your breasts, but she pulls your hands off. “you look so pretty, darling, don’t cover yourself.” the redness on your face returns, which earns a small chuckle from jihyo.

she kisses your neck and shoulders a few more times before making her way to your tits. as soon as her lips come in contact with your skin, you jolt. “you’re so sensitive, it’s so cute.” she wraps her lips around your nipple and you nearly climax just from that. she takes your other nipple in between her fingers, tugging and squeezing it softly.

exasperated moans leave your lips and you feel the slick coating your thighs through your underwear. jihyo switches her mouth to your other tit and starts slowly moving her hand lower. “please, jihyo.” your impatience makes her laugh against your skin, which just adds to your frustration.

she traces the hem of your panties with her fingers and looks up at you awaiting your permission. you decide you can’t wait any longer and take her hand into yours, putting it directly on top of the soaking wet spot on your underwear. jihyo pauses and bites the inside of her cheek, looking at you like never before, with venom laced in her eyes.

“i’ll let that slide because you don’t know any better, but you don’t get to make me do things, got it?” the anger leaves her gaze, but you can still sense it. “yes, i’m really sorry.” “just don’t do it again.” everyone’s apparent fear of jihyo suddenly starts making sense.

“you’re dripping, love. is this all for me?” she already has you seeing stars while drawing circles on the outside of your panties. “yes, it’s all for you.” “sweet girl. don’t worry, i’m going to take care of this for you.”

with that, she places her index and ring finger directly on top of your clit through your underwear and starts moving them in slow, circular motions. she brings her mouth back down to your tits, but you want her lips on yours. you almost pull her up yourself, but you remember her earlier warning about that.

“jihyo…” you completely lose your sentence when jihyo bites down on your shoulder. fuck, she’s so good at this.

“are you going to finish?” she stares down at you while speeding up on your clit. she’s reduced you to a moaning, incoherent mess in a mere 5 minutes. “i’m waiting.”

“kiss me.”

“whatever you want, princess.” you barely manage to get out two words in between moans and whimpers. she bends down and grabs your face with her free hand. you try your best to reciprocate the kiss, but you’re really just moaning into her mouth.

she gradually speeds up and adds more pressure. you’ve now fully lost it, there’s not a single thought in your head, and jihyo loves it. she praises every sound you make and chuckles in amusement.

“you sound so pretty, darling.”

you suddenly slap your hand over your mouth because you hear footsteps outside, but jihyo pulls it away from your face. “no, don’t quiet yourself. it doesn’t matter if someone can hear you.”

that comment sends you straight over the edge for some reason. the idea of another member hearing you turns you on more than you’d like to admit. your eyes squeeze shut and you grip jihyo’s shoulder as your hips jolt forward.

“i’m right here, princess. i’ve got you.”

she continues rubbing circles on your clit until you’re completely done and you don’t let go of her shoulder. “breathe, darling. can you take deep breaths for me?” you do what she says, realizing that you had indeed somewhat forgotten to breathe.

“you were amazing, love. you did so well.” your brain is still foggy and your vision hazy. you finally let go of jihyo and throw your arms over your head. she takes the opportunity to take off her clothes, which she still had on.

you watch attentively as her shirt slides off her body and she unclasps her bra, making her tits bounce out. your cheeks redden at the sight in front of you and jihyo notices, so she makes a big show out of taking off her shorts and underwear.

you’ve seen her naked before, but never in this context. she’s truly breathtaking. you stay still for a few seconds, admiring every inch of her body. she bends down to kiss you and her bare tits press against your own, sending an all to familiar rush of heat straight to your core.

when her chest separates from yours, you stretch out your hand to touch her, but stop yourself. “do you want to touch me?” your face turns red again, and jihyo takes that as a yes.

instead of giving you a verbal reply, she takes your hand into hers and places it on her breast. “don’t be shy, love. you can touch me however you want.” she winks at you and goes back to your neck, leaving a trail of marks with her lips.

you softly play with her tits, still somewhat hesitant. she separates from your body and tugs at your panties. “let’s take these off, they’re soaked.” she slides them off and throws them aside carelessly. you let go of her and close your legs, but she carefully pulls them open. “don’t close them.” “okay, i won’t.” she gives you a kiss while cupping your face. “good girl, you’re doing so well.”

your hand goes back to her breast, playing with it mindlessly. jihyo continues kissing you while letting her hands caress your inner thigh. you love all of it, everything she does makes your head spin.

she moves her hand closer to your core and you try moving your hips even closer to it, but she pulls away. “be patient.” she goes back to drawing circles on your thighs and teasing you by getting really close, but never actually reaching your pussy.

“please, jihyo, i need it.” she plants a kiss on your forehead and wipes the hair off your face. “okay, princess. i’ll stop being mean.”

she puts the palm of her hand over your clit, playing with it before spreading your folds open with her middle and index finger. that alone is already causing you to be outrageously loud, you’re sure everyone in a ten mile radius knows what’s going on.

“tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay?” “okay.” she kisses your cheek before spitting on her fingers. maybe it’s just because jihyo is the one doing it, but that looks way hotter than it should.

she takes her fingers back down to your pussy, coating it in her spit. she traces her fingers along your entrance and pushes them in. you whine out in pain and squeeze her tit, causing her to remove her fingers.

“ah, fuck.”

her curse comes out as an almost whimper and you nearly lose your shit at the sound. you of course ease up, but part of you wants to keep doing it just to hear her again.

“be honest with me, have you ever fingered yourself, love?” you avert your eyes away from hers in embarrassment; you don’t want to admit the truth. you’ve tried masturbating before, but you can never seem to do it properly. and you haven’t dared finger yourself for fear of getting hurt. maybe you should have told her this before she started, but it’s too late now.

she grabs your chin and makes you face her again. “you can tell me.” you think for a few seconds, but finally admit it. “i haven’t, i’m really sorry for not telling you, i just-“ she cuts you off with a kiss and starts giggling. “it’s okay, darling. you don’t have to explain yourself. i’ll just go slower, does that sound good?” “yes, thank you.”

she smiles at you and her fingers go back to your wet pussy. she does the same thing as before, spreading your folds apart. she slowly inserts part of her fingers and lets you get used to the sensation before going any further. “tell me when you’re ready.” “okay.”

you wait a couple of seconds and instruct her to go on. she pushes her fingers in completely and you wince, a tear rolling down your cheek. she goes to take them out again, but you tell her not to. “i can’t wait any longer. i want you to make me cum again, please.”

she’s somewhat frozen in shock at your statement, but she snaps out of it quickly, giving you a devilish smirk. “if that’s what you want, but don’t push yourself too much.” “it is, please, jihyo.”

she slowly starts moving her fingers in and out of you while giving you soft kisses in an attempt to mediate your pain.

it hurts like hell for the first few minutes, but it quickly starts turning into the greatest thing you’ve ever felt. your quiet winces and whimpers become moans of ecstasy as the pain completely disappears.

“faster, please.” you beg, letting go of jihyo’s breast to grip the sheets beside you. she does what you told her without hesitating and starts curling her fingers inside you as well. you bring one of your hands to your mouth and bite down on your finger; she’s truly incredible.

“jihyo—hm, that feels good.” she places her free hand on your thigh, rubbing it softly. “i’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, you sound so pretty.”

you give her a half smile, too intoxicated with her movements to properly process half of what she’s saying. the palm of her hand slams against your clit every time her fingers are pushed back into you which only serves to make you feel even better.

she speeds up more, continuing to hit the perfect spot every time she curls her fingers. the air feels stuffy and warm, and jihyo looks absolutely enchanting in front of you.

you feel yourself on the edge, but not enough to cum just yet. that quickly changes when you see jihyo bite down on her lip however.

you hold onto the bedsheets even tighter than before as you practically scream and your legs start shaking. all of the muscles in your body contract and jihyo makes sure to let you completely ride out your orgasm.

“good job, princess. how do you feel?” you’re still a bit dazed as she sits against the head board and helps you onto her lap. “good.” she laughs and you straddle her, wrapping your arms around her and burying your face into her neck.

“i’ll let you rest for bit, but we have to get you cleaned up and go downstairs to have a very lengthy chat with everyone else.” you sit in silence for a few minutes as jihyo scratches your back and plays with your hair. you nearly fall asleep, but she speaks up.

“nayeon texted me, she says you sounded amazing.”

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