#and i fixed every mistake i could though i think there are still some things that could be better

[cherienymphe]

Escapism

Topper Thornton x Reader

Summary: Your brother always stayed up with you whenever you couldn’t sleep and nothing has changed now that his best friend is the reason for your late nights.

warnings: Dub-Con, stepcest, cheating, toxic relationship, semi-public sex, jealousy, secret relationship, side of Rafe x reader, lots of playing in Rafe's face, kook!reader, non canon ages

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

⭑

You were a shitty girlfriend.

Perhaps, in some ways, you were being too harsh on yourself because it wasn’t like Rafe would ever win boyfriend of the year. The blond came with a plethora of issues that could only be fixed with therapy—something you probably wouldn’t even be able to pay him to do—and he chose to handle every single one with one horrible coping mechanism after the next. When it was all said and done though, you really only had yourself to blame.

It wasn’t like you were a stranger to the man before you started dating him.

You knew Rafe well—you’d grown up with him—so was it really his fault that you chose to ignore every single thing you knew about him in the hopes that he would mature and change? Was it his fault that you forgave him time and time again with the hopes that he could still change? Was he the asshole for being him or were you the asshole for going into this with the expectation he’d be something he wasn’t?

“Come on,” Topper would say to you in the dead of night. “You and I both know what he’s like—what he’s always been like.”

It was usually after he’d listen to you cry over Rafe and whatever girl he’d kissed or whatever awful thing he’d said to you, pupils blown and alcohol on his breath. He’d pull you to sit back, hands rubbing over your arms in an attempt to calm you down. It was always well into the night when you both should’ve been asleep, but per your routine as of late, you’d be waiting up for Rafe to call or text or walk through the door.

Anything to let you know he wasn’t passed out drunk in a ditch somewhere.

“Rafe can take care of himself just fine.”

Or some variation of that would reach your ears, and you’d press your hands to your face in exhaustion. You’d never miss the bitterness—borderline malice—in Topper’s voice as he said something like that. You knew it wasn’t directed at you, but more so your relationship with the other blond as a whole and his frustration with it. Topper never wanted you to date Rafe, and you knew he took no pleasure in watching Rafe prove him right.

Rafe may have been his best friend…

…but you were ten and Topper was twelve when his mother married your father. He’d been protective of you since day one, having been an only child before that, and you knew that he hated having to let you make your own choices and mistakes with the guy you’d both once called a friend. If you and Rafe came out of this relationship intact, you doubted you’d ever call him ‘friend’ again.

He’d hurt you too much for that.

You weren’t a bad girlfriend for thinking such thoughts. Nor were you a bad girlfriend for trying to break up with him on several occasions, something Rafe would always talk you out of with promises of remorse and change. You didn’t even think you were a bad girlfriend for venting about your frustration and hurt to his best friend—your stepbrother.

You were a shitty girlfriend for allowing something to continue that should’ve ended years ago.

Fed up with talking about Rafe and how badly he’d hurt your feelings earlier in the day, Topper had pressed his lips to yours, effectively shutting you up with a kiss. A kiss that you returned, shoulders sagging and a weight lifting off of your chest as his arms circled around your waist. Rafe had called you a nag hours before, subsequently telling you he wouldn’t be staying over before hanging up without another word.

It had hurt you, but you were sure Topper was just relieved to have you all to himself.

Or at the very least, wouldn’t be tempted to fuck you anyway—Rafe under the same roof be damned.

You both were quiet in the dark living room—your parents asleep upstairs—and the longer you kissed him, the more you just wanted to forget about Rafe. The t-shirt you wore was bunching up under the blonde’s hands, and you gasped when his mouth trailed down to your neck. You could feel how much he wanted you, and any other night you would’ve loved to drag this out, but much like Topper…

You just wanted to feel him inside of you.

You never wore any underwear to bed, both for convenience and just because. It was something Topper had come to appreciate, and when you helped him pull his shorts down, cock springing free, you couldn’t slide down the couch fast enough. He hooked one hand under your thigh, helping you and dragging you closer, the other squeezing his cock with long strokes.

He rubbed the tip of himself against you a few times, coating the head in your essence, unsurprised at how wet and ready for him you already were. The feel made you bite the inside of your cheek, lifting your hips in an attempt to get him to sink into you even if just a little. You didn’t miss the soft chuckle that rang through the air.

“I’m sorry,” he huskily told you, pushing into you with one slow thrust. “Is that better?”

You hated his mocking tone, but not as much as you loved the feel of him stretching you out. You clawed at him, pulling him closer, sighing into his mouth when he finally kissed you again. The movements of his hips were slow, too afraid to do too much and make too much noise. The pace was enough to make your head spin and was definitely enough to make you squirm beneath him. When you started lifting your hips to meet him halfway, he groaned into the kiss.

Rafe was the furthest thing from your mind.

Sliding your hands up Topper’s frame, you threaded your fingers through his hair, nails lightly dragging along his scalp. By the way he shuddered against you, you knew that he liked that. Every snap of his hips into yours had you swallowing down every noise that threatened to escape. His cock stroked your walls in a way that made you squeeze your eyes shut.

Shifting, you felt his hand slide down to rest on the inside of your thigh, pushing it and spreading it until your leg hung off of the couch. At that, you did gasp, a choaked sound escaping your lips before you snapped them shut. His free hand was beside your head now, forearm resting on the couch cushion. You both were quiet, but your soft labored breathing could still be heard if you listened hard enough.

When you softly moaned his name, he shushed you.

“I want…” you fought to catch your breath enough to speak. “I want you to come inside of me.”

You felt another shiver travel up his spine, head falling into the crook of your neck at that. You knew he wasn’t close, but you felt like making that known. It wasn’t something you both made a habit of, but you loved the feel of Topper spilling into you, cock twitching as he coated your walls in his release. When you pushed against his hand, he got the hint, and you circled his waist with your legs, ankles hooking at the small of his back.

Topper took his time fucking you.

He often did, feeling no need to rush or no fear that you’d get caught. You didn’t know if he was just that confident in how quickly you could pull yourselves together or that it simply wouldn’t happen. Some part of you wondered if maybe he just didn’t care. You knew that couldn’t be true for several reasons, the most pressing being your boyfriend.

It was funny.

Rafe had probably cheated on you more times than you actually knew of, but the minute some other guy looked at you for even just a second too long, he was gearing up for a fight. You didn’t know if he was performative or just that skilled at compartmentalization, but you hated it. What good did it do for him to act so noble and possessive when way too many people knew how much he’d embarrassed you over the past six months?

You didn’t doubt that he’d try to kill Topper in some coked out rage if he ever knew.

Topper’s hand was cupping your breast under your shirt as he pressed kisses to your neck and jaw. He was whispering in your ear, telling you how good you felt and how wet you were, and how much he wanted to feel you coming around him. He knew what to say to send you over the edge, and at the first sound, he covered your mouth in another kiss to swallow your moans.

You squeezed him tight, walls clenching as he fucked you through your climax, cock plunging into your soaking cunt as he chased his own. His thrusts grew sloppy, and they weren’t as languid, and his blond strands kissed your forehead as they grew messy and awkward with sweat. Your legs had long fallen around him, and you pressed your hand against his lower back.

When he came, he buried his face into where your neck and shoulder met, groaning into the skin. You shuddered at the feel of him spilling into you, still clenching around him as remnants of your orgasm finally started to dissipate. His breathing was heavy against your skin before pulling back just enough to touch his forehead to yours.

You could only hear your efforts to catch your breath.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

You nodded, positive he could feel the action against his forehead. You fingered the top of his shorts, and you bit your lip. You didn’t say it back often—something you still had trouble accepting and admitting—but you told him enough so that he’d never doubt it.

“Can I stay in your room tonight?” you quietly asked him. “Rafe probably won’t come over until after noon…if he comes over, at all.”

You tried not to let your voice shrink at the thought, but Topper caught it anyway. Pulling out of you and sitting up, he grabbed your arm and pulled you with him. Righting himself, he pulled you to your feet, his other hand pushing his hair away from his face.

“You know you never have to ask,” he told you.

His hands were comfortably on your waist as he followed behind you, guiding you upstairs.

“What…? You got a problem or something?”

You knew it was coming when you were the only one who wasn’t laughing, unamused as he recounted his tale of how he’d cornered Pope. You’d never known the other guy to get into any trouble or bother anyone, and while you knew there would never be anything you could do about whatever petty rivalry your brother and your boyfriend and their friends involved themselves in, Pope just seemed like low hanging fruit.

He wasn’t even the type to fight back.

“I just don’t find it funny,” was all you said, squinting under the harsh rays of the sun. “You know Pope’s not even like that. I might’ve laughed if it were JJ or…I don’t know…someone who would actually put up a fight.”

Rafe’s entire demeanor clouded over at that, and you were prepared for whatever was about to come out of his mouth when Topper spoke.

“Rafe,” the other blond warned. “Chill.”

He seemed to anticipate Rafe’s ire just as much as you did, and Rafe paused, glancing at his best friend before huffing. He leaned back in his chair, eyeing you with that cold blue gaze of his. The sun shone off of his dirty blond strands, the tresses curtained along his forehead, and you watched him bring his hand up to rest against his lips before finally settling on a better response than what you both knew you almost got.

“So, what are you trying to say?”

Choosing to end this fight before it even began, you sighed, looking away.

“I’m not saying anything, Rafe. You can do whatever you want,” you murmured. “You always do.”

He heard that loud and clear, and the laugh he let out wasn’t humorous in the slightest. You heard him roughly get up from his seat, chair scraping against the wooden floor. You watched him snatch his glass off the table, mumbling something about needing a refill but not before making a comment to Topper that was solely intended for you.

“Get your sister, Top,” your boyfriend drawled, making you cross your arms over your chest.

You could feel the man in question’s eyes on you, and you avoided his gaze.

“Sometimes I swear you like fighting with him just as much as he does you.”

At that, you scoffed, looking at him in disbelief.

“I didn’t laugh because he beat up Pope Heyward…and that was apparently a problem,” you pointed out to which Topper merely shrugged, unable to disagree. “I apologize for not finding it funny.”

“Babe,” he softly said, reaching out and touching your arm. “He’s a Pogue, and you know how Rafe is.”

His excuse for Rafe’s behavior only made you roll your eyes, and you heard him sigh as you reached for your stuff. He said your name, trying to get you to sit back down, but you were only more determined to leave once you caught sight of Kelce walking up the steps to the restaurant too. Dealing with all three of them at once was enough to give you a coronary.

“Where are you going?”

You didn’t answer Rafe as you passed him on his way back to the table, ignoring Kelce too when he said hey to you. You hated to take it out on him when he didn’t actually do anything this time, but you knew his mindset was just as bad as Rafe’s, and so you figured it was preemptively deserved. You didn’t need to be a genius to know that Rafe was going to talk shit about you the second you were out of sight.

It was one of those days where you really felt emboldened to finally break up with him for good. Rafe hadn’t been good to you nor right for you since the beginning, and you knew that if Topper was a lesser person, he would’ve said ‘I told you so’ a million times by now. You were grateful that he didn’t make you feel worse for being naïve enough to ever believe in Rafe Cameron.

Although, some part of you wondered if having you crawl into his bed night after night was satisfaction enough.

It was hours later when he was softly apologizing for both his and Rafe’s behavior, fingers digging into your waist as you pushed yourself down onto him. Rafe had long fallen asleep, his light snores easing your worry as you’d snuck out of your room. Topper was awake—as you’d hoped—and it was true that you’d only intended to talk. Rafe’s attitude hadn’t been much better when you finally reunited again, something you were sure Topper had overheard.

“You really want to talk about Rafe, right now?” he’d whispered, hand sliding along your thigh.

“Topper,” you’d quietly hissed in warning. “Not…tonight. He’s…”

You didn’t need to finish that sentence, feeling no need to as you gestured towards his door. The blond had fixed you with a look that made your stomach flip, a hint of a smirk dancing along his pink lips as he held your gaze.

“That’s never stopped us before.”

You’d swallowed at that, feeling unsure, but that was a feeling that had never stopped the other man before either. The first time he’d ever kissed you, you’d felt unsure, but Topper hadn’t cared, holding you to him and fingering you on the back deck while his mother threw some grand party downstairs. You still remembered the way you came around his fingers, an admission of insecurities somehow leading to your first ever sexual experience—and with your own stepbrother no less.

“Topper,” you’d quietly warned when he brushed his lips against yours. “Rafe…”

“Do…not…talk about him, right now,” he’d slowly said, fingers grazing along your folds just as slow.

Despite your hand against his shoulder, he’d laid you down, lips finding the skin just under your jaw.

“He’s the last thing I want to talk about, right now.”

…and he’d meant it, curving his fingers into you while pressing open mouthed kisses to your jaw and throat and collarbone. Any protest you had was swallowed down and quickly forgotten at the slick feeling between your legs, Topper’s fingers sinking into your cunt with ease. Your own twisted into the fabric of his shirt, hips lifted towards his hand, fighting to swallow down a whimper each time his thumb circled your clit.

“Fuck,” he’d cursed into your skin. “I love how wet you get for me.”

It wasn’t long after that that he was hurrying to get inside of you, shirts and shorts discarded as he pulled you on top of him. When you sank down onto him, he’d sighed, throwing his head back and lifting his hips. With your hands on his stomach, you’d lifted yourself until the tip of his cock just barely remained inside of you before sliding back down.

You gently bounced on top of him, hyper aware of who was just in the other room. You could tell that Topper wasn’t a huge fan, feeling that you had to pick one between being on top and being gentle, but it couldn’t be both. When his hands slid up your frame, they rested on the sides of your neck before pulling you down. Your eyes fell closed when you kissed him, and you gasped into his mouth when he lifted his hips, driving himself up into you.

You mentally cursed, realizing you’d been tricked.

With his hands quickly sliding down to snake around your waist, Topper wasted no time in lifting his hips to push his cock up into you. The force of his thrusts had you squeezing him in more ways than one, lips parted and eyes tight as he roughly fucked himself up into you. His bed shook under his movements, and you couldn’t stop yourself from whining into his mouth, the sound of him sinking into you reaching your ears.

“Fuck, you’re dripping,” he hummed, one hand coming up to rest on your cheek.

When his bed knocked into the wall, he halted his movements, using the moment to both catch his breath and listen. Your own heart stuttered, digging your nails into his chest because you’d literally told Topper so. Once Rafe was knocked out, it was usually pretty hard to wake him up, but it would be just your luck that this night of all nights he’d be a light sleeper.

You really didn’t want to imagine the chaos if he left your room in search of you only to find his best friend balls deep inside of you.

When no worrying sounds reached your ears, Topper took that as a sign to continue, knees bent as he thrust up into you again. You could tell he was close by the way his cock twitched inside of you, and something nagged in the back of your mind about that. When you attempted to pull yourself off of him, he held you tighter.

“Topper,” you gasped, a warning in your tone. “Don’t-.”

Your words were abruptly swallowed when he rolled you both, pinning you beneath him and jerking his hips into yours. The rough and fast pace had you momentarily forgetting your train of thought, weakly pushing against his stomach. You both knew why you didn’t want him to finish inside of you, but he didn’t seem to care about Rafe possibly sinking into you in the early hours of the morning with his best friend’s cum dried along your folds.

You yelped when you came, a roaring sound in your ears as you felt him do the same, filling you up with a grunt. His hips didn’t stop snapping against yours the entire time, fucking you through it and fucking his cum into you. He had you completely caged beneath him, and all you could do was quietly milk his cock, toes curling as you scratched at his back.

When clarity finally hit, the fog lifting, you roughly pushed him away. You didn’t miss his quiet chuckle, and you didn’t spare him a glance as you reached for your oversized t-shirt—his t-shirt.

“You’re such an asshole,” you mumbled, pulling it over your head and slapping his hand away when he reached down to slide his fingers between your sticky folds.

You didn’t spare Topper another glance before hurrying out of his room.

You kept your eyes on Rafe as he flew down the road, the loud music making his truck almost vibrate. He was ignoring you, preoccupied with his conversation with Kelce who was in the passenger seat. It was funny because the only one with a right to be mad was you, recalling the fight you’d had on the beach not even an hour ago.

“She was all over you, and you just stood there and let it happen,” you’d yelled at him, feeling humiliated for the umpteenth time.

“I barely remember what that girl even looks like,” was his reply, pupils blown. “It was nothing, baby.”

You had slapped his hand away when he reached for you, unmoved by the way his countenance darkened. The sounds of the party just down the beach only served to remind you how you felt when you walked up on him with his hand on some girl’s waist, her lips trailing kisses along his neck. You could tell she was drunk, and instead of pushing her away, Rafe just entertained it.

Your eyes had only met for half a second before you were turning away.

You didn’t even know why he chased you down the beach, and that was what you’d told him.

“You’re not sorry…you don’t feel bad, and you know what? You’ll probably do worse two weeks from now, so why are you even here?”

You’d shrugged at him, certain your confusion was evident on your face.

“Look, it was nothing,” he’d spat at you. “Once again, you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

That had actually made you laugh, tears kissing your eyes.

“If you caught me cozying up to any guy with half the effort that she was with you…you would lose your shit, and you know it,” you’d sneered, watching his jaw tick. “I would love to see the look on your face if I fucked someone else.”

He’d gotten in your face, his finger almost touching your eye.

“I was barely touching her-.”

“That wasn’t the case three months ago,” you threw in his face. “…and I can only imagine what I don’t know about.”

Rafe’s nostrils had flared, and for a split second, you swore you saw some shame pass through his blue gaze. It was gone just as quickly as it came though, anger replacing it instead.

“You wouldn’t dare, you wouldn’t fucking dare,” he bit out, invading your personal space. “I said I was sorry, and you said you forgave me, so don’t think you can use that as an excuse to go fuck some asshole who clearly doesn’t value his life.”

His words had only made you angrier, and you had to bite your tongue to keep your face even, recalling the feel of Topper’s cock inside of you just thirty minutes before Rafe came to pick you both up. You and your boyfriend had stared each other down for a few moments more before he spoke again.

“I’d love to see you do that,” he finally said, shrugging. “I would love to see you try when you can’t even stick to staying broken up with me.”

His words had the desired effect, and you’d felt your face fall.

“Now, you’re trying to convince me you’d ever have the nerve to cheat on me?” he’d wondered, fingers grazing his own chest. “Don’t make me laugh.”

He’d left you with a scoff, and you hadn’t been able to stop your tears from spilling over. All you’d ever tried to do was routinely look for and believe in the best in Rafe, and you couldn’t believe that he threw that in your face like some insult. Maybe it was an insult though…because how many times were you going to let him show you exactly who he was? How many times were you going to let him play in your face?

The day after you’d confronted him about sleeping with some girl—only privy to the information because of none other than Topper—you’d cried yourself to sleep. It was always little things before that, but that incident was what broke you, allowing Topper to slip into your room and wrap his arms around you. It was reminiscent of a time where he used to sneak into your room almost every night, your parents none the wiser to what went on underneath their roof. You’d been eighteen then, Topper twenty, and you both mutually agreed to putting a stop to it.

However, that night, his mind had clearly gone to the same place yours had.

When he kissed you, you’d pulled him closer, and two years after you ended your forbidden dalliance, you resumed it again. For a few hours, you’d forgotten all about Rafe and what he did and just basked in the feel of Topper pushing his cock into you, embarrassingly turned on because of how much you’d missed him. You hadn’t paid any mind to the countless phone calls and texts that were blowing up your phone, no one else but Rafe and his vain attempts to fix what he did.

The day you forgave him, you knew you were making a huge mistake.

Rafe throwing the grace you’d shown him in your face had you stomping to his truck. You’d ignored the feel of eyes on you, knowing it wasn’t Rafe, opting to slide in the backseat without acknowledging him. Kelce—ever the standup guy—just pretended not to notice the tension between you and his friend as he slid into the passenger seat. The moment Rafe’s truck was on the road—music blaring through the vehicle—you’d grabbed Topper’s hand.

He didn’t protest at all when you dragged it across your thigh, pushing his fingers between your legs.

…and that was how you found yourself watching Rafe, keeping your eyes on him not because you actually wanted to, but because you didn’t need him looking over his shoulder. Even if he did, it was dark, but still, you weren’t exactly emotionless as Topper slid his fingers in and out of you. Your lips were parted, and your chest was heaving, and even though all that could really be heard was whatever rap song Rafe put on, you were still pulling your lip between your teeth.

You reached out to grip the door handle when Topper added another finger, his hand soaked in you, and you reached down to place your own hand on top of his. You spread your legs a little more, and you couldn’t stop yourself from lifting your hips a bit. You were thankful for the music, certain that if the truck were quieter, they’d be able to hear the wet sounds of his fingers pushing between your folds.

He pulled them in and out of you for the duration of the ride, just slowly stroking you and teasing you. Every time you started to tighten around his fingers, he’d stop, just letting them sit there long enough for you to come down from a high that quite never happened. Like clockwork, he’d start moving his fingers again, and he only fully pulled them out of you—underwear snapping back into place—when Rafe pulled into his driveway.

He'd sucked them clean by the time Rafe and Kelce opened their doors, and when your boyfriend saw that neither of you were moving, he paused. You crossed your arms over your chest when he glanced at you, throwing him a frown.

“I need to talk to Y/N for a minute,” Topper told him, and Rafe only scoffed.

“Please do,” he mockingly said, tone full of arrogance as he wrongly assumed what the conversation would be about. “…because I didn’t do shit, and I’m tired of your sister blowing things out of proportion.”

That last part was aimed at you, and you only coolly met your boyfriend’s gaze before he slammed the door shut.

“He’s such an asshole,” you mumbled, staring at his back as he walked away. “I’m breaking up with him. For good this time.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Topper’s tone was dripping with sarcasm, and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Yeah, we both know how much you’ll hate having me all to yourself again.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before you turned towards him, reaching to slip your hand down his pants the moment Rafe was inside of his house. Wrapping your fingers around Topper’s cock, you slowly stroked him, uncaring as to how risky that was. You were just angrier than you ever were at the realization that Rafe didn’t appreciate how gracious you’d been, and how many other girls would’ve dumped him months ago for everything he’d pulled. In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if Rafe respected you less for it.

That realization didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would…because you’d long stopped respecting him in return.

You moved to settle in Topper’s lap, facing away from him as he lifted his hips enough to only just pull his pants down. One hand was pulling at your panties, yanking them aside just in time for you to sink down onto his cock. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he filled you up, throbbing inside of your heat. It was almost too easy, courtesy of his fingers and how wet he’d made you.

You lifted yourself slightly, moving over him and hanging onto the headrest of the driver’s seat while Topper lifted his hips too. His grunts and labored pants were a little loud, but that was only because you were alone. Rafe nor Kelce was going to hear anything from all the way out here in a closed vehicle. You clung to the seat harder as you thought about Rafe’s haughty tone and that challenging look in his blue eyes, so certain that you’d never do to him what he did to you.

So certain that you’d never have the guts.

Speaking of, it felt like you could feel Topper deep in your stomach as you rode him. His hands were tight on your waist as he bounced you on top of him, cheeks grazing his thighs with every movement. One of those hands slid around you, reaching under your dress and resting on you, fingers rubbing over your cunt.

“You’re doing so good, babe,” he whispered in the otherwise quiet truck. “Just like that.”

You knew that this couldn’t take long—and Topper knew it too—and feeling you come around him always sent him over the edge, so your eyes rolled when he started circling and dragging his fingers across your clit. He lightly pinched it, making you jerk, and the fact that you were fucking him in Rafe’s own backseat had you coming hard.

The broken moans that tumbled out of your mouth should have embarrassed you, but you were too concerned with sliding yourself up and down his cock, squeezing him tight and making him come too. Topper wrapped an arm around your neck, pulling you back against him as you came together. Knowing that you’d stayed out here long enough, he was gently pushing you off of him the second he started to soften.

You could feel him dripping out of you, and you hurried to put your underwear back in place.

“Did you talk some sense into her?” was the first thing Rafe greeted you with the moment you both made it back inside.

You ignored him, hearing the tone of Topper’s voice as he said Rafe’s name. You knew that it would just be another useless talk of him almost begging Rafe to do better. The older blond never listened to his friend though, and you knew it didn’t twist Topper up too much, always happy to make you feel better when your boyfriend fucked up.

He took advantage of it every time.

Like now, for example.

Your hands clung to the railing of the back porch, head bowed as Topper drove into you from behind. Rafe was asleep in his own room—Kelce asleep in a guest room—and you couldn’t help yourself. You needed him again, sneaking into his designated guest room and begging him to fuck you. He was never one to protest, pressing his lips to yours and pulling you against him while murmuring something along the lines of ‘not in here’.

There were too many people in the Cameron household for him to touch you on the same floor as everyone else.

You kept pushing yourself to your tippy toes, thighs squeezing together with every slow stroke of his cock. Rafe’s t-shirt was pushed up your back, and the light slap of skin against skin reached your ears as well as the wet sound every time he slid between your folds. When he leaned over you, chest pressed to your back, one arm curled around your waist.

“You love this,” he murmured, nipping at your ear. “You love fucking me right under his nose…especially when he really pisses you off.”

If you’d tried to deny it, the way you tightened around him would’ve exposed the truth anyway. You did. Rafe underestimated you, and you loved proving him wrong, especially with his best friend of all people. You moaned, pushing back against him at that. Topper only chuckled, twisting a hand at your roots and pushing you back down over the railing again.

After coming around him twice, the insides of your thighs were embarrassingly sticky, and when Topper eventually stilled against you, pumping you full of his cum, that only made your predicament worse. When he pulled out of you, you reached down to wipe away some of the mess, fighting to catch your breath and reminding yourself that you’d have to make a stop to the bathroom before rejoining Rafe.

Topper was silent the entire ride home, and unlike with Rafe, you had no one but yourself to blame in this situation. Whenever you happened to glance over, you’d catch sight of his clenched jaw, cold blue eyes—so much like Rafe’s—focused on the road. His knuckles were white from the strain of his skin pulled taut over them, a death grip on the wheel of his jeep.

You didn’t speak because there wasn’t much you could say.

So fed up with Rafe’s blatant disrespect—and the pitying looks the odd girl threw you at the party as he danced with some stranger—you hadn’t thought of who else you’d be hurting when you grabbed the nearest guy and pressed your lips to his. You were so far gone with the alcohol, and the satisfaction you’d felt only drove you to close your eyes at the feel of his lips moving against yours.

It had also caused you to momentarily forget about your boyfriend, a misstep that was quickly remedied when you found yourself covered in alcohol.

Several of his friends—Kelce included—had been struggling to hold Rafe back as he tried to make his way to you. His angry shouts could be heard over the music, and you suspected that the bloodthirsty glint in his blue eyes was what drove your poor unsuspecting victim to slip away. Watching him get further out of reach only drove Rafe crazy…until his angry gaze landed on you, as if just remembering your presence.

He was screaming at you, calling you every name in the book, and you’d taken a step back as his friends struggled to keep him from getting to you. Only one stood off to the side, and when you remembered Topper’s presence, you hadn’t been able to keep the sheepish look off of your face. Adopting the older brother role, he’d quickly stomped towards you, yanking your arm as he pulled you along and away from your enraged boyfriend.

“I think its time you call it a night,” he’d evenly said.

That was the last thing he’d said to you, holding you as you stumbled to his car.

When his phone rang again, cutting through the silence in the vehicle, he finally answered it.

“Rafe, she’s drunk,” Topper told him the minute he picked it up. “…and you can’t act like you didn’t have this coming a little.”

You shifted in your seat, thinking to yourself that you’d gotten back at Rafe many times over. You didn’t hear what your boyfriend—possibly ex-boyfriend—said on the other line, but it was loud, and you could pick up on his tone. Topper chuckled to himself, and if you hadn’t been looking at his face, you might’ve thought it was genuine. His frustration with both Rafe and you—mostly you at the moment—was all over his face.

“There’s a whole list of shit you’ve done while drunk or high. You can talk to her tomorrow,” he told his best friend, meeting your gaze. “I’m handling it, so if you come over, I’m telling you now I’m not answering the door.”

You looked out the window at that, swallowing at the venom in both his voice and his gaze.

Your parents weren’t home, out of town for the weekend, and you were never more grateful, certain you’d never been this drunk in your life. Topper was still ignoring you as he helped you inside, and when you stumbled away from him, leaning against the table by the entrance, you gave him an apologetic look.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled.

Before you could do it, he was dropping to his knees, angrily taking off your shoes. You flinched at the way he threw them across the room, slowly rising and staring you down. The house was quiet—too quiet for comfort—and you licked your lips.

“Topper-.”

“It’s already bad enough seeing you kiss him and be with him and fuck him,” he spat at you, pointing outside. “Even worse when he treats you like shit, and you just won’t leave.”

You frowned at him, tears kissing your eyes.

“I’m…sorry for just hoping he’ll do better…”

“He won’t!”

Topper’s voice bounced off of the walls, and you shrunk away from him as he got in your face.

“How many times does he have to show you that? Why do you still expect better from him, so much so to the point where you’re kissing random guys, now?” he wondered, rearing back away from you with a frown. “Yeah, you wanted to make Rafe angry, but we both know the truth.”

You looked away, pressing your lips together when Topper stepped closer. You could feel his breath on your cheek as he exhaled through his nose, the atmosphere tense.

“Rafe’s mad because you dared to play his own game,” he slowly whispered. “I love you, and we both know it’s me you’re really with, not him, and I’m fucking pissed.”

You swallowed with one look into his eyes, finally finding the strength to face him, and your heart skipped a beat at what you saw there.

Before you could say another word, his lips were on yours, fingers digging into your arms. The sequence of events happened too fast for your drunk brain to catch up with, only gasping when he reached down to press his hand into the small of your back, yanking you closer. If it wasn’t for him holding you, you would’ve tripped over your own feet as he forced you into the living room.

Topper’s teeth nipped at your throat while he pulled at your dress, something Rafe had bought.

“I fucking hate this dress,” he quietly confessed as if reading your mind.

The sound of tearing fabric reached your ears as he forced you to bend back, his arm around you keeping you from collapsing. He kept you against him as he laid you down on the floor, in a hurry to get you at least half naked. His other hand reached behind his head to yank off his shirt, and you only had the sense to hold onto his arms while he kissed along your chest. When his pants were pushed down just enough, he pushed into you with a grunt.

You scratched at his skin at the rough entry, but it took no time for each thrust to become as smooth as they always were whenever he got his hands on you. One of your hands clawed at the rug, and you moaned—loud—when he gripped the hair at the nape of your neck. You suspected that Top had done a line or two tonight, gasping at his uncharacteristically tight grip.

He was fucking you so good that you almost missed the sound of a vehicle in the yard. When you did, your eyes flew open, and you attempted to look around towards the window. You guys were too close to the couch to see over it, and when you whined, pushing against him, Topper only grabbed your hands and pinned them down beside your head.

“Topper, I think…”

You couldn’t get it out, groaning as he curved his hips against yours.

“Fuck him,” he breathed, pounding into you.

The harsh knocks on the door didn’t faze him, and Topper only let one of your hands go to reach down and reach under your thigh. He rested that leg over his shoulder, pushing it towards you as his nose brushed yours, lips parted as he thrust into you. You were dripping around him, teeth sinking into your lip as Rafe knocked on the door again, trying the locked handle. Somewhere, you could hear your phone vibrating…and then Topper’s after a while.

The man on top of you didn’t care, stretching you out, pushing his cock into your tight hole.

“Break up with him, or don’t,” he whispered to you, pressing a kiss to your lips and then your nose. “…but what you pulled tonight is not happening again.”

You drunkenly nodded at him, mewling as he slowed down his thrusts, the sucking sound of his cock plunging into you reaching your ears. You heard your phone vibrate again.

“You know where to find me when he pisses you off.”

#topper thornton #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton imagine #topper thornton smut #topper thornton fanfiction #obx #outer banks #obx fic #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 14

TITLE: Some things are better left unknown

PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x Felix x reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: a threesome with Chanlix where you’re yet to discover a very sobering truth about the pair of them.

TAGS: explicit language, threesome, oral sex (f!reader receiving), porn with plot, use of the name 'baby girl' and 'angel', swearing, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex but protected anal sex, double penetration, big dick!Chan agenda, praise, slight body worship if you squint, kissing/making out.

A/N: Aussie line fucks hard, bye. (If there are mistakes, I will fix them. Currently running on v low sleep)

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @mal-lunar-28 @luneskies @queenmea604 @kibs-and-bits @kbitties @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung

-

Milk, nori, rice, raw tuna, coffee, yoghurt, bread, and eggs. 

This was all Chan sent you to the supermarket for. All of which could have been easily picked up from the convenience store down the road. Maybe minus the raw tuna which has to be high grade since Chan wanted to make an attempt at onigiri for the first time. However, you would’ve saved an entire trip to the busy supermarket.

Not to mention, grocery shopping sucks in general. At least that is when you’re on your own. In your apartment that you share with your good friends Chan and Felix, two people are responsible for the shopping per week which rotates each time. 

If you’re with Felix, sometimes you both tend to muck around. Not to mention forgetting almost a quarter of things on the shopping list which ends in a stern lecture from Chan. On that matter, if you’re with Chan, it’s an in-and-out task at the store in less than ten minutes. 

Efficient and practically timeless.

Even though it’s no trivial matter, you manage to get through the pointless shopping before heading home to the apartment. These could’ve been picked up at the convenience store, you think to yourself again. A sigh leaves your lips as you unlock the door, bumping it open further with your hip as you slide your shoes off. 

“I’m back. Remind me to buy an umbrella next time-”

Your body freezes on the spot. The bag of items falls from your possession, collapsing onto the floor. Something inside it broke but it’s nowhere near enough a distraction for what is in front of your eyes. 

Maybe you need your vision checked because if your eyes weren’t deceiving you, then you wouldn’t have just seen Chan and a topless Felix who are both making out. The two of them sat on the edge of the bed, still lip-locked until they caught onto your presence.  

For the few seconds you stood there, rooted to the ground, felt the absolute longest.

Neither of them was as internally panicked as you when they noticed you standing there. Nor did they have hundreds of questions zapping around their brains in the span of a few seconds. It was like your entire vocabulary had turned to dust and were blown away because there were no words to describe what the hell was happening. 

Maybe it was a dream. 

“T-That was quick,” Chan stammers with an awkward chuckle, breaking away from Felix, almost pretending like nothing just happened. 

Felix looked like a complete mess. Dark brown hair mangled - clearly from Chan either running his fingers through it or tugging it - the air gets stuck in your throat with those two theories in mind, painting very interesting visuals and an odd sensation in your stomach. 

Chan looked equally dishevelled. There’s a dark red splotch peeking above his collarbone that you had no trouble guessing how it got there. On top of that, his pants were already half undone, and his lips were bitten red and wet, and they both looked so…so…

“What…the fuck…” you manage to speak once your mind has cleared the only one per cent of its capacity to grasp the circumstances.

“It’s not what it looks like,” Felix quickly says as he stands up from Chan’s lap and walks over to you.

It was useless for him to try to take advantage of your shell-shocked state because once your surprise had completely thawed out, your words started coming back to you. 

“Oh my god, what am I even doing?” You ask, clamping your hands over your eyes, ready to head right back out of the apartment. “I’m heading out.”

“Wait!” Chan calls out, arm outstretched towards your direction. “You don’t…you don’t have to go. If you want, you can maybe join us. If…if you like.”

Join them? Blindsided by those words, there was no trouble for the difficulty you had in trying to figure out if you heard right or just imagined what Chan said. Why would he ask you that question? But more importantly, why were they hooking up in the first place? It was evident that there had been something going on between Felix and Chan - unless this was just a new one-time thing. 

However, even if it wasn’t, you had been left out of the secret. Nonetheless, you quickly came to your senses. Whether they hook up or not is none of your business. 

“J-Join you?” You stammer. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Chan emphasises. “It’d be rude to not let you in on the fun.” 

You definitely weren’t hearing things, and this wasn’t a dream. 

At first, you can’t understand why you’re even considering their request, but there is one piece of information that sprung to mind and that’s your sex life. It hasn’t been entirely sex-filled as you’d like it to be, not to mention your slight lack of experience with threesomes wasn’t vast - but it also wasn’t limited either, especially after that encounter you once had with two of their friends Changbin and Hyunjin on a separate occasion. Although, they didn’t need to know that at all. 

That being said, this takes the cake. You can’t even comprehend what Chan or Felix are like in bed but, the opportunity seemed too ridiculously hot to pass up. 

“You...you want me to-“

“Like Channie said, if you want,” Lix assures you, interrupting your babbling. 

You aren’t somewhat surprised that Felix would ever want a threesome. He’s had sexual partners here and there in the past, multiple ones at a time. However, Chan never struck you as the type to have sex with more than one person. Even after a year of living with him and getting to know him, he’s still pretty private and exclusive. 

With the matter at hand and the more you think about the prospect in front of you, you aren’t opposed to the idea. So with your brain taking full control of your body, you hesitantly step over the discarded groceries lying on the ground. This is happening. Felix picks up on the right cue and extends his hand out to you as you take it gently. 

He guides you over to the edge of the bed where Chan is still sitting, but as you’re led over, he rises to his feet. There were a few seconds where you’re a little bit bewildered by what’s going on, but when you look into Chan’s dark eyes and as he takes your free hand, you become more centred.

Before you know it, he leans down to kiss you and kisses you good. You’ve never felt anything like it and as Felix releases your hand and sneaks behind your body, your mind starts turning into jelly. He gently swipes your hair to the other side of your shoulder while his other hand freely roams around your waist, underneath your shirt to feel the heat of your skin. His mouth places chaste kisses from your shoulder up to your neck. 

It feels so heavenly to be sandwiched between them; Felix kissing, biting softly over your skin while Chan continues to explore your mouth. It was impossible to think that just a few minutes ago, you were at the grocery store and now a complete world shift just seems to be occurring within that time frame. 

Chan breaks away from you for a second, kissing you tenderly one last time before sitting back down on the bed and moving up to the headboard. God this is really happening. You’re too deep in it now to not follow him like a lost, yet obedient puppy. You can see that he’s hard and want to touch him so badly but-

“Sit between me and face towards Felix,” he instructs before you can even reach for him. 

Your cheeks burn. While you have no idea what’s entirely in store, your body is getting excited and very obviously, so is Felix. He crawls over to you once you’re snug in between Chan’s legs before he tugs your shirt up from the hem and tosses it aside. Then, he finds your lips and kisses you until you have to silently beg and chase him for it.

Squirming in place, you feel hot and subjugated by Chan sitting behind you - snaking and trailing his hands around your now half-bare body, and Felix in front of him, who’s now gone on to give his supposed man some attention too.

He’s up on his knees with his body so close to you that you can feel the heat from him. Chan tilts his head up from resting on your shoulder and lets Felix take what he wants. The slick wet sounds of them both kissing along with the tiny moans you can feel in your ear, makes you shiver all over. You’re only still comprehending this all, that this is still actually happening. 

“So needy,” Chan says as he breaks away from him, inches away from his face when Felix hears and feels you unbuckling his belt. He straightens back up and consumes how flustered you are, observing the way you blink up at him pleadingly, displaying how badly you want it now. 

Felix smirks, gently grabbing your face with one hand and lowering down just enough to kiss you senseless again. But he cannot stray away from his other plans so frees himself from your lips to help slide your pants off down and discards them to the side. 

Immediately, you can see where this is going. 

“Aw, look how bad you want it,” Felix comments, swiping his thumb over the damp spot of your underwear with enough pressure for you to muffle a whine by biting down on your lip. You do want it bad and already seem to be losing a fight to the pleasure Felix is barely giving you. 

“Don’t tease her too much,” Chan cautions. 

Felix doesn’t seem to hear the warning for him as he helps you shimmy your underwear down. From there, Chan takes over. He hooks both of his legs over yours and separates them to not just expose you for Felix but to hold you down for what’s about to unfold. 

Heat accelerates through your cheeks as you feel embarrassed. At this point, your brain hasn’t caught up with the fact that you never show this much skin, let alone any skin in front of either of them. But that was going to be an afterthought for you when Felix distracts your mind by gently prying your legs open from your bent knees.

Pathetic whimpers slip past your lips as Felix lies down on his stomach, his face inches away from your pussy while he pets and glides his two fingers in between your folds. 

Your head shoots back onto Chan’s shoulder, very narrowly missing his face, “f-fuck…oh my god.”

Without warning, you feel the tip of Felix’s tongue lap a few times over your clit. If it weren’t for Chan acting as a human restraint to hold you down, there would’ve been a solid chance of you lurching forward. His arms are still wrapped around your abdomen, preventing you from moving forward so that you can take what Felix is giving you. 

It’s cruel, but Chan thinks it’s necessary for you to feel everything. Which you do when your hands grip each of Chan’s thighs, nearly squashing him backwards between you and the wall. 

“How does it feel?” he asks you. 

“F-Felix, mmm-” you breathe out his name, unable to answer properly and feel some vibrations from Chan’s chest to suggest that he was chuckling. Mainly at the fact that you weren’t able to directly answer his question. 

But it’s not long until the room quickly fills with your whimpers and moans mingled with the beautiful wet sounds as Felix keeps eating out your pussy. Tingly sensations spread like wildfire throughout every cell in your body from his mouth. It’s gradually becoming impracticable to keep up with his tongue. Not that you’ve ever imagined it before, but he does give good oral, good enough to put your breathing pace out of whack when he sucks on your clit. 

He’s not afraid of enjoying himself either. You can hear and feel his moans reverberate throughout your lower half. It even adds to the sensation of bliss that’s forming a knot in the pit of your stomach. So even though you don’t know, this is as good for Felix as it is for you. To him, it’s like going to heaven. 

What you also didn’t seem to know was when Chan unclasped your bra from behind your back and placed it to the side. His hands went from just holding you to now groping and playing with your tits as your body continued to melt into Felix’s mouth. 

“You’re loud aren’t you?” Chan whispers in your ear, rolling both of your nipples in between his thumbs and fingers to make you mewl and squirm. The different methods of pleasure send interesting messages to your brain that only make that crest of ecstasy build higher. 

You can only mewl until coherent words appear in his brain and out through his mouth, “s-sorry.”

Felix’s head game is so ridiculously mind-blowing that it makes you forget what language you speak.

Chan chuckles, purring into your ear, “don’t be sorry. You just can’t help it can you?” 

His hand circles up to your jaw, tilting it towards his face. He confirms in his mind how much of a mess you are. Cheeks stained pink with a fucked up expression that reads ‘I need more’, to which Chan reaches down and kisses you, sloppy and lazy. 

The velvety feel of your mouth when you open up more is slick with warmth. It’s starting to become more obvious how close you are when you start moaning repeatedly into Chan’s mouth. 

“I’m going to fuck you after this,” he breaks away, just inches from his lips again. 

You never would’ve guessed that Chan was even capable of forming such a dirty sentence. Then again, you never would’ve guessed that you would ever be in the position that you’re in now - having a threesome with your two housemates. 

“I’m…you’re gonna make me cum,” you sob, turning your head towards Chan on his shoulder, almost as if you were trying to escape the expansion of euphoria. He couldn’t help but kiss your forehead, waiting for you to brace for that wave. 

“Yeah?” Chan rouses. “Want to cum for us baby girl?”

You nod, too helpless to form an answer when you’re on the cusp of a forceful orgasm. He underestimated the strength he needed to hold you down, especially when you’re about to cum. So just when he needed to add more force, your body stiffens. Your legs so desperately crave to clamp around Felix’s head to help triage the pleasure, but it’s no use when Chan has you completely locked in. 

Your eyelids flutter, head pressing back further into Chan’s shoulder, “yes! I’m cumming!” 

With ragged, heavy breathing, the all-consuming pleasure takes you by the throat as the pleasure surges without control. Even though you’re being held down, it doesn’t stop your body from quivering. It lasts for what feels like an entire minute – one of the best orgasms you think you’ve ever experienced. 

Felix’s tongue slows down to a snail's pace, licking a few final stripes before kissing his way up your body, from your clit, abdomen, and then up to the base of your throat. His chin glistens as he adorns a smug smile. 

“Fuck…” you sigh out defeatedly, the aftermath of experiencing a volume of pleasure was starting to take its toll. “Oh my god.”

Chan kisses the side of your head, “sound so beautiful when you cum. Lix, switch with me so I can fuck her, yeah?”

“Wait-“ you pause, trying to reorient yourself as you hold onto Chan’s forearm for support. “I wanna ride you.” 

Felix looks down at you, “you sure angel? Channie isn’t exactly small.” 

From that statement alone, it was obvious to you that Felix was speaking from experience, a strong indication that they had in fact mucked around at least once in the past if not multiple times. But it didn’t matter if Chan or Felix for that matter was packing twelve inches, you needed to have something inside you to tame that need of feeling full. 

“I want to ride you-“ you nod to Chan – “but I want you to fuck me at the same time-“ you indicate towards Felix.

Neither of them expected you to be into that. Then again, they didn’t necessarily expect you to join them in bed either so anything was a surprise to them at this point. Chan and Felix can’t deny how insanely hot it is to hear you not only ask for them to do something but specifically ask you to do that. 

“Are you sure baby?” Chan has to ask you for assurance. 

“I can…I can take both of you.”  

Still stunned at your answer, Felix ushers to Chan, “you heard her.” 

He cannot lie and say that he’s not excited, because he is – they both are. So while Felix goes into the bedside table for a condom and lube, you move yourself off of Chan, turn around and start unbuckling his belt and helping him take his jeans off, almost like you’re in a rush. The imprint of his hard dick is enough to make your mouth water, and as Felix said, Chan definitely isn’t small. 

“Easy, I’m not going anywhere,” he chuckles, reorienting himself on the bed so that his head is on the pillow.  

Felix returns with the items he needs to help prep you, taking it as a sign to straddle over Chan’s legs and slowly tug his black boxers down. His cock springs onto his abdomen, the dark pink tip reaching just under his belly button. He had to be at least eight inches. Maybe just under, just.

“Ready angel?” Felix asks, kneeling behind you as you straddle Chan. The position would allow you to not only ride Chan but to take Felix from behind too, a dream so delicious that you can’t help but wonder how it was still all possible. 

“Yes,” you mutter. 

“Okay then,” he replies. 

Chan then holds the base of his cock steady for you, watching you slowly take those eight inches. The tip of his dick gently slots into your pussy, taking your time with sinking down. The warm heat engulfs his length, already sending shockwaves throughout his lower half. 

“That’s it, baby,” Chan says encouragingly, his fingertips delicately massaging over the skin of your things. “Good girl.”

You bite down on your bottom lip at the extraordinary stretch. In the meantime, Felix squirts a dollop of the lube onto his fingers to warm it up a bit before applying it to your hole.

He thumbs over it, sending shivers up your spine. It’s vital to him to make sure that you’re prepped well for him to fuck your ass. So he starts small by slowly inserting the tip of his finger, before gradually using slow yet long strokes, enough to make your head loll back. 

Felix has to express in awe when he sees the result of your efforts to fully envelope Chan’s length, “look at that. You took all of him, angel.” 

You know very well that you have because you can feel him in places that other men in your past haven’t reached. The stretch still sings a bit but it could easily be confused with the gorgeous satisfaction of Chan filling you right out. 

“So…big,” you strain out, scratching your nails down Chan’s abdomen, almost like a cat, just not as painful. 

Meanwhile, as Felix has slowly been stretching your hole out with his fingers, he uses his teeth and his free hand to peel the foil back of the condom packet. He had already freed himself from his jeans when he went to reach for the lube beside the bed so was hard and ready to roll the condom down his cock.   

“M’ready Lix,” you say to him, unable to see the smile you brought to his face from how eager you are. 

“I know baby, just one second,” he replies before aligning his cock with your hole. 

Very carefully and slowly, he starts pushing his tip in. Your eyes flutter shut, steadying your breathing in the process in preparation to take all of him as well. Chan rubs up and down your arm, distracting you from the temporary sting. With the lube doing its job, Felix can continue to push in at a leisurely pace right until he has the majority of his cock wrapped up by you. 

“Doing so well Y/N,” Chan says reassuringly. “Just stay like this for a bit until you’re ready to move yeah?” 

You nod, allowing your body and muscles to relax and ease into the pleasure that’s starting to fade out the burn. It’s difficult to comprehend a fuller feeling than this; to have two cocks stuffed in you to the hilt, and after a few moments of getting used to it, you slowly start to move. 

“Mmm, yes fuck,” you sigh with satisfaction, using your hands on Chan’s abdomen to steady your body as you being to move your hips. “You both…feel so fucking good inside me.”

Your words were difficult for Felix to not listen to who was trying to ward off from thrusting for a little bit until you were comfortable with him starting to fuck you. It wasn’t until your movements became a bit quicker that he began to catch up to your pace. Very quickly did the room turn into a space brimming with moans, wet sounds, and the sound of skin slapping. It was plenty to add to the intense sensation you were hurtling towards.  

Chan’s eyes are fixated on watching your pussy swallow his cock with every long stroke you take on him, “oh my god.”

With his tank top still on, Chan lifts it by the hem and holds onto it with his teeth. It wasn’t just to make sure that your hands weren’t going to be slipping on him as you use his abdomen to support yourself when you rock down, but it was also to restrict a whole bunch of moans that were about to rip through his chest. But even that couldn’t put a lid on the groans and growls rumbling from him. 

“Taking us both so well angel,” Felix says exasperatedly in your ear. 

His deep yet velvety voice has you leaning back slightly so that half of your back is pressed against his chest. With the help of you turning your head towards his face, Felix’s mouth crashes onto yours, almost tasting the remnants of yourself from before. He kisses you passionately, moaning into your mouth like he’s going to die if he doesn’t. 

“Fucking perfect,” he growls, diverging from your mouth to dive into your neck to suck a few hickies in and groping your tits from behind. “Can’t get enough of you dammit.” 

You sob out as he pinches your nipples, but also when Chan reaches down to your pussy, finds your clit and begins to rub in perfect motions, “god – fuck, I can’t…s’too much!” 

Their cocks hit spots so phenomenally that each time they stroke over them, your holes involuntarily clench around them. Not to mention the total stimulation they were feeding you. 

Felix’s hips haven’t faltered since they started pumping forward into your ass. The upward curvature of his cock seemed to be scratching the part of your brain that is responsible for making your eyes roll back. Chan’s dick on the other hand had you shaking. The length and girth were sickeningly satisfying. 

“Not gonna last,” you whine, still keeping up the same pace when you rock down on Chan and feel Felix continue to thrust in and out. “So close…” 

The hem of Chan’s shirt is long gone from his mouth, already given up on trying to suppress whatever was going to come out, “gonna cum for us again, huh? Such a good girl, taking us both at the same time.” 

Chan couldn’t lie either, but he was close a long time ago, probably the second you decided that you wanted to ride him. Felix happened to be on the same page. He couldn’t get over this entire situation, finding it so fucking hot that even just a dream of it would be a blessing. 

Words start to slip away from your brain once more. Aside from your orgasm swimming towards an astronomical high, you try to cling to that amazing feeling before it eventually disappears. But all good things come to an end. Your nails dig into Chan’s thighs while Felix has one arm barred just under your chest as the other hand doesn’t let up on your nipple. It throws your pace off balance and staggers your breathing when you start reaching that very pinnacle of euphoria. 

“Yes! Fuck, I’m cumming!” You scream out. 

Your thighs clamp around the frame of Chan’s lower half, shaking and shivering in place as the pleasure reaches its apex. Felix didn’t let up on his pace, fucking you all through your orgasm as Chan replaces your motions by fucking upwards and into you. Both of your holes spasm and contract around their dicks, enough to actually make them cum by the time you’ve reached the height of your orgasm. 

“I’m gonna cum, holy fuck, s’too good,” Felix’s head rests on your back, watching his cock disappear in and out of you before he starts to bust inside of the condom. His fingernails brutally dig into your hips when he cums. 

Your moans easily fill up the room once more now that you have no choice but to succumb to the euphoria when your orgasm hits its hardest. Chan’s head tips back further into the pillow, eyes screwed tight shut as he’s hit with a tsunami of pleasure. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” he exclaims loudly, his chest heaving up and down as he spills inside of you. He’s lucky that he did because as the pleasure reached a point where it was too much for you to bear, you slowly lean forward towards Chan, their cocks sliding out of you in the process. 

On each exhale your body shudders, like the surges of aftershocks while the pleasure slowly plateaus. From this angle, Felix can still see you contracting, watching Chan’s cum leak from your pussy. If he wasn’t so fucked out, he would’ve had the energy to eat you out again. 

In saying that, he is the first to recover and come to his senses a bit faster than either you or Chan. He takes the condom off, ties it, and discards it in the rubbish bin in the corner of the room before putting his boxers back on. Meanwhile, you’re still panting trying to catch your breath, resting on top of Chan’s body, you feel his hand run soothingly up and down your spine. 

“Such a good girl for us,” he says caringly. “Felt so good.”

Felix sits beside you both at the top of the bed. He cards a gentle hand through your hair, observing your distant expression, “you there baby?” 

You blink up at him and nod, your brain still trying to process that sort of orgasm. 

“When you’re ready, we’ll get you cleaned up yeah?” He smiles softly down at you. 

As the minutes ticked by, Felix lent you a helping hand to stand up when you were ready. Even though you were wobbly on your feet, he still guided you to the bathroom and ran a nice hot shower. Both Felix and Chan joined you in a bid to make sure you knew that they were there, dousing you with as much praise as an individual could get – and they meant every word. 

When you were ready to hop out, Chan fetched you one of his warm jerseys and placed it straight over your body before telling you to hop in his bed while he went to gather up the towels and clothes from the bathroom. Just as he was picking up the last items, Felix caught him right as he was about to walk out. 

“She okay?” Chan asks him. 

Felix nods reassuringly, “out like a light.”

“Alright then,” he sighs contently. “She’ll probably be asleep for the rest of the day.”

“Mm,” he hums, staring at a space just to the side of Chan who picks up on the subtle behaviour. 

“Is there something wrong?” Chan asks as a slight concern balloons in his chest. 

“When are you going to tell her?” Felix asks. 

Chan stares at him, trying to figure out what he means, “tell her what?” 

He rolls his eyes and chuckles, “that you like her, idiot. That we like her.” 

That had been a distant thought for Chan for some time. The possibility of that ever working out between the three of you seemed like a long shot. You only all slept together. There was no depth to it other than that even though deep down, Chan would’ve liked it to be for the sole purpose that he likes you. But it’s not just him.

It’s also the one standing at the doorframe, staring right back at Chan; Felix. 

#rosiewritesskz #stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #bang chan smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut #felix smut #i.n smut #chanlix #bang chan x reader #felix x reader #chanlix x reader

[chlorinecake]

𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐊 - a yjw oneshot 🕹️

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a fun gaming session with your bsf leads to a night full of steamy shenanigans

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: gamer!roommate!jungwon x reader

𝐜𝐰: swearing, kissing, teasing, hickeys, y/n gets her boobies fondled, oral (f. & m. receiving), mentions of other enhypen members

𝐰𝐜: 3k | not proofread, written quickly

You sighed, “I wish more people in the world cared about Roblox… it saved my life, bro.”

“That was easily one of the dumbest things I’ve ever heard you say.”

“What?”

“I said-”

“EVER! Wanna play COD Mobile instead?”

“Bruh, that game is so mid.”

You scoffed at his remark, bringing a flared hand to your chest. “I’m goated at COD mobile, averaging like 100 kills per match. People praise me for that.”

“Because it doesn’t take skill?” He made it sound like a question, when he was really making a statement.

“Mkay. I bet I’d still whoop your ass on console, but we don’t have to go there.”

A hint of ambition sparkled in his eyes at the challenge. “Oh yeah? And what are we betting here?”

“Hmm,” you thought for a moment, “If you win, I’ll fix you a victory snack.”

He nodded at the enticing offer, “And if you win? Which you won’t, but-”

“The bragging rights will be enough for me, but you could always fix the broken shower head in my bathroom so I can stop using yours,” you interrupted confidently.

Jungwon forgot all about how you broke your shower head last week. You told him it was an innocent mistake, but his mind obviously wandered to other places once you told him. By now though, he had already gotten used to sharing a bathroom with you, so he didn’t feel any urgency to repair it. Still and all, he understood how you might want your private space back. “Ok. Fair enough,” Jungwon agreed.

He handed you a controller, waiting for you to join him at the loading screen. Setting up your gear and choosing what weapon you wanted, the match eventually started. Needless to say, you didn’t stand a chance against Jungwon and his team of CPU’s, feeling sore from defeat.

A prideful smile waved over his features, showcasing his prominent dimples. “Sooo,” he began, “I would like your leftover Twix bar from the fridge cut up over two scoops of vanilla ice cream. Don’t forget the sprinkles.”

You pouted, handing him the overheating controller. “I’m not fixing you a damn thing. You probably cheated!”

His eyebrows raised, “First of all, cheating is for weenies. Second of all, a deals a deal!”

“Ugh, fine. I’m charging tips, by the way.”

“Not a chance, crook. Unless,” he caught your attention as you got up from the living room couch, “you wanna go for another round?”

“No, that’s alright. I think I'm gonna just watch you play the game for now. You could invite Heeseung, too, if you want.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll be back, okay? I gotta use the bathroom real quick.”

Walking into the bathroom, you closed the door behind you, taking off the bra that had been killing your back for the past 12 hours. You didn’t know where else to put it, so you hid it under Jungwon’s bathroom cabinet before leaving.

“When do you ever wanna play games with me? Are you with Riki or something?” Heeseung asked from the headset.

“No, I’m with ____. She needs some testosterone in her life and wants to watch us play I guess.”

“I can think of a few ways to help her with that,” Jungwon could hear the smirk in Heeseung’s voice.

“Shut the fuck up and join me already.”

“What? It’s not like you’ll ever have the balls to make a move on her, anyway,” Heeseung chuckled. “How long have you know her for again?”

“Since the first day of college.”

“Damn, and you’ve barely even grazed first base.”

“She’s still sacrificing her free time to hang out with me, so I don’t see the loss here?”

“Look, buddy. Your rizz needs an upgrade. These cute little gaming nights you have every weekend needs an upgrade. Your wardrobe needs an upgra-”

“I get it, asshole.”

You came back with the snack he requested, eliciting a dramatic applause from your goofy ahh friend.

“Your majesty,” you bowed playfully, placing the bowl of ice cream on the desk in front of him.

You filled in the space next to him, resting an elbow on the arm of the sofa, your nipples now on full display through your thin shirt.

“Are you cold,” Jungwon asked, eyes not quite meeting yours. You meant to reply, but he was already reaching his hand out to grope your chest, using a thumb to smooth out your hardened buds with his warm touch. You eyes widened in shock.

“Woah- mmm, n-no, I’m okay” you stuttered, Jungwon smirking at how flustered you appeared.

What the actual fuck was that!?, you thought to yourself.

He went back to casually talking with Heeseung again as if he didn’t just rub your nipples…

You usually enjoyed watching Jungwon play the game, but now, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jungwon’s pretty hands. The way his delicate thumbs maneuvered the joystick of the controller sent your mind into a daze.

“Hold up, Hee, I’m gonna put you on mute for a sec,” Jungwon said, handing you his controller before mouthing the words “play for me” with a catty smirk. He adjusted his headset over your head, bringing a finger up to your seal your lips. “Shhh,” he warned.

You knew Heeseung wasn’t actually on mute because there was an open mic symbol on the corner of the screen.

What’s he up to now?, you wondered.

Kneeling between your legs with greed, Jungwon’s fingers tiptoed to the waistband of your shorts. He paused before asking, “is this okay?," and you simply nodded in response. He smiled, tugging your shorts and underwear past your hips, knees, and ankles, stuffing them under the sofa.

He gawked at your wetness, your lips swollen with need. Heeseung started the match, and that’s when Jungwon started taking kitten nips at the sensitive flesh between your thighs, leaving a few marks. He blew at your heat before finally using his fingers to explore your folds.

“Cute,” he must’ve noticed the way your pussy pulsed in anticipation. Attaching his lips to your throbbing clit, he sucked it into his mouth, alternating with his fingers when breaking for air. He hummed at your taste, adding to the pleasurable sensations.

You tried focusing on the game for Jungwon’s sake, but you couldn’t resist the urge to reach for a handful of his hair and gently grind against his face.

“You’re doing so good for me, baby, just stay focused,” he said in between slurping at your wetness that never sounded so foul til now.

Did he just call me baby?

He inserted a finger into your tight hole and started pumping in and out of you, curling up to stimulate your g-spot. You were struggling to keep your moans in, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as he finger-fucked you. He looked up, noticing that you had fully abandoned the controller. “Keep playing or I won’t let you finish,” he purred.

“Fuck,” you panted quietly, how do you expect me to do that?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, ____.”

You picked up the controller and started playing again. Heeseung was now swearing over the mic like a madman. “Bro, you’re really not helping out our stats here by letting the enemy clap your cheeks,” he scolded, but you weren’t really paying attention to his voice anyway. Jungwon dove back into your heat, licking rough stripes against your clit as he inserted a second finger. “Mngh,“ you mumbled dizzily, clenching around him.

“What?” Heeseung asked confused, having heard your noise.

You reached to mute the headset, but Jungwon gave you a look that told you not to test him. You gave in, and succeeded in holding back your whimpers, but your heavy breathing continued.

“Dude, I’m literally never playing the game with you agai- HOW THE FUCK DID I JUST GET DIED?”

One last thrust of Jungwon’s fingers, and you were finally coming undone, shaking from the intense wave of pleasure that washed over you. Slender fingers glided in and out of your needy hole, his knuckles adding to the delightful stretch. The match ended shortly after you came down from your high.

Jungwon licked his fingers clean of you and swapped the controller back. “Sorry about that, hyung. I was eating and didn’t wanna disturb you,” he lied, readjusted the headset on himself.

“Well, I hope it was worth it. Our team forfeited on some elite rewards.”

“You’re welcome,” he teased, which you didn’t know if it was meant for you or Heeseung, because he leaned in to kiss your lips softly, before going in for another match.

Still feeling your orgasm fresh in your viens, you reached under the couch to grab your shorts and underwear, putting them on and getting up from the sofa.

“Hey, what’s up,” Jungwon asked while taking a spoonful of the half-melted sundae into his mouth.

“I-I’m just gonna shower... and maybe go to bed after.”

“Alright. Me and Hee are gonna play one more match and I’ll be in after you. Don’t take long!”

"Dude, you’re abandoning me already? I thoughtyou were gonna help me take these punks to skill-ville," Heeseung whined over the mic.

"You need to immediately repent for saying that," Jungwon cringed.

You made your way to his bathroom with a change of clothes, closing the door behind you.

You entered the shower, trying to wash off the growing heat between your legs and any dirty thoughts associated with your roommate. A few minutes in, you also decided to wash your hair as it had been a week since that last time you did.

That’s when you heard the door open and close, followed by the sounds of clothes being removed and tossed on the bathroom floor. You peeked from the shower curtain, only to find a naked Jungwon standing right there. He didn’t notice you looking, so you pushed the shower curtain back.

“The shower is occupied at the moment, Wonie!”

“I know,” he smirked, entering the shower from the opposite end as if this was yet another casual ordeal.

“May I,” he asked, pointing to the spot you were standing at in the shower. “Oh, sure” you replied, trying not to make things awkward. He reached for the bottle of shampoo and started lathering the honey scented product in his hair and skin. You tried to avoid taking anymore peeks at his toned body so you busied yourself with a loofa and cleansed your skin for what felt a hundred times. By now, you sat idly in the corner of the shower, with bubbles waiting to be rinsed from your body. “Here,” Jungwon motioned for you to return to your original spot. “Thanks,” you said. “Would’ve been nice if you said that earlier,” he poked.

Oh shit.

“Here, let me help you,” he offered, rinsing off the soapy suds that painting your shoulders and back. Somehow, this gesture relaxed you. “Now turn around for me.” You faced him with a chest covered in bubbles. He quickly rinsed your breasts before lowering the shower head to your private, adjusting the water pressure from low to medium.

You could hardly stand up straight from the pressure building up at your center. The throbbing sensation between your legs travelled up to your quivering lips. You moved a hand to cover your mouth, hiding your lewd sounds. Jungwon didn’t mind though, because your squirming is what excited him the most. “Hold still, ____,” he teased, putting the water pressure on high.

Bracing your balance with his free arm, his soft lips met your damp neck, nibbling at the skin. The sensation was so sweet that you finally let your moans out. Developing a mind of its own, your hand reached down to stroke Jungwon’s hardness, a lustful look staining his features.

He groaned into your ear, making you feel more than half crazy. You felt your climax creeping up on you as it became harder to stand up or keep still. Starting to pump him faster, both of you were now on the verge of bussing.

A little voice in your head slapped you back into reality.

This has to stop! He’s my roommate!

You turned the water off from the faucet on the wall, retreating your hand from his member as if it tased you. Grabbing a towel from the curtain rod and covering yourself, you left Jungwon alone in the bathroom.

You went to your room and started to dry yourself off. You couldn’t quite wrap your head around what was happening but a part of you liked it and another part knew it was inappropriate.

You just touched Jungwon’s dick, and yes, it felt really fucking nice, but the thought will likely haunt you til the day you die. He was a good friend of yours, and you didn’t wanna let fleeting feelings ruin it.

You put on the scented lotion from your nightstand followed by your clothes before plopping in your bed. You didn’t bother locking your door because you never had you to worry about Jungwon intruding your privacy. Or at least, that was before today.

You buried yourself under the covers before a trail of footsteps made their way from the bathroom to your bedroom door.

Creak.

The door opened and closed.

Click.

He locked it.

Walking over to your bed, Jungwon sat behind you.

“I know you’re awake, so stop pretending,” he whispered in your ear.

Annoyed, you threw the covers off your head, giving him an exhausted look.

“What do you want, Jungwon? Huh?”

“I could always just show you,” he said, flashing you the sluttiest eyes you’ve ever seen on a man.

“You could’ve waited for me to finish up in the shower before barging in like that.”

“No, I really couldn’t.”

“We’re roommates, Won! Hell, we’re friends!”

“And? What does that have to do with anything?”

“You can’t just fondle my tits whenever you want to, or eat me out on the couch when you’re bored, or join me in the shower because you’re impatient.”

You let that sink in for a moment.

“Did you not like it when I did those things to you? Did you not like the way I made you feel,” he inquired, inching closer towards you on the bed. “Because the way I remember it, you never told me to stop.”

The room fell so quiet that your heartbeat sounded loud.

He reached over to grip your thigh, leaning in for a kiss before shoving his tongue past your lips, but you pulled away.

“Jungwon stop!” You reprimanded, turning your head from him.

He grabbed your chin and proceeded to kiss you.

“Jungwon, I said stop...”

“I can tell you didn’t mean it.”

He continued kissing you, shoving his hand into you panties and going straight to your pussy, sliding his digits up and down your moist folds, sending an ache through your stomach.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so wet for me.”

He called you baby. Again!

He didn’t waste any time to rub circles around your sensitive bud, causing your hips to jerk toward him.

“Stop it!” You raised your voice, pushing him away by his throat. Your hand never looked so small til now.

“Then make me.”

“What?”

“You know I don’t like repeating myself, ____.”

Darkness waved over both your features as you pressed his back flush against the bed, reaching for his drawstring and pulling his sweat pants down. He wasn’t wearing any boxers, so his pink tip sprung up, clear fluid leaking from the tip.

You grabbed his dick, giving it a firm stroke before grazing your teeth down his shaft, eliciting the prettiest whimper you’d ever heard from his mouth. The texture of his veins ran against your tongue as you took half of him into your mouth, using your hand to stimulate the base.

Your head bounced up and down as Jungwon grew dangerously desperate. Tapping your cheek, he guided you off of him to take a breath. Cradling your head in his grasp, he slid you back down until your lips reached his pelvis. “Hollow your cheeks for me, and breath through your nose,” he guided before using your head to please him. Your eyes began to water as his tip hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag a few times, but he ignored it.

“I’m so close, baby, just keep taking me,” he nearly begged, chest heaving as he screwed his eyes shut, “Be a good girl for me, mmm,” he grunted, picking up the pace.

You were getting used to being called “baby” by now.

“F-fuck,” he whimpered, bursting his load into your mouth. He lifted your head from his throbbing heat, using a thumb to wipe the cum that dribbled from the corner of your mouth. You went back down to taste his release, only for him to guide your head away.

“Don’t eat that, ____,” he giggled, but you swiped a finger to collect some of his cum anyway.

“It’s only fair, Wonie. Now we’ve both tasted each other.”

You went to the bathroom to wash your hands, coming back with a few tissues to help clean him up. Something about this dirty moment seemed so pure. So right.

“Okay, I’m going to bed for real this time, see you tomorrow,” you smiled, getting under your covers.

“You don’t expect me to go back to my room, do you,” he asked, giving you a look.

“Well, tonight, I’ll let it slide, but if you end up breaking your bed, don’t expect visitation privileges.”

“Thank you,” he let out a breath, smiling as he snuggled under the covers beside you.

“Jungwon?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think Heeseung has any idea about what we did?”

Ding.

Jungwon’s phone vibrated in his pocket:

Text Message from “Heenis” — Jake ditched me for a hoe 👍🥲 wanna call?

A mischievous smirk poked at the corners of Jungwon’s lips, “He can find out.”

“WONIE, IF YOU COME ANY CLOSER, I SWEAR YOU’RE SLEEPING IN YOUR OWN BED TONIGHT!”

❁ if y’all can’t tell already, i am dangerously jungwon biased…

❁ anyways, thanks for reading “Joystick” by @chlorinecake! be sure to check out more works by me on my enhypen bookshelf!

#enhypen #enha imagines #enhypen headcanons #kpop ff #enha ff #enhypen ff #enhypen jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon ff #jungwon fanfic #jungwon hard thoughts #jungwon suggestive #jungwon x reader #jungwon smut #jungwon hard hours #jungwon #jungwon imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen hard hours #enha x reader #enhypen imagines #jungwon scenarios #kpop fandom

[nana-gumi]

my heart belongs to.. who? g.satoru

pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, mentions of death, mentions of cremation, depression, starvation, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of self-harming, please read at your own risk!! NOT PROOFREAD AGAIN HELP (i'm sleepy alr but i want to update TvT)

a/n: here's the part two of the 'anyway, don't be a stranger.' yes the title has changed. also based from a song a piece of you by nathaniel constantin. that's all, enjoy reading ;) PLS NOTIFY ME IF YOU HAPPEN TO SEE TYPOGRAPHICAL ERRORS!! THANK YOU <3

now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?

prev | next

satoru doesn't know why something in him ached when he randomly spotted his best friend, his dear best friend, suguru with you, on a random place and at a random time.

your backs were turned to him but he surely didn't like the way you cling to his best friend, it hurts him in many ways he couldn't explain but, satoru knew too well that he doesn't have the rights to feel that way, that's because every pain and sorrow that has happened to his life would be different if he didn't do that one big mistake.

ever since the divorce, satoru never saw you again. you left and none of the people you knew where you've gone to. satoru thought it was for the best that you should be away from him because the moment he feels vulnerable again, he would look for your presence, even though you weren't together anymore.

although sometimes, satoru do hope that you didn't run away from him. he wanted to fix everything, to apologize, to try things with you again. he never wanted anyone other than you. you were the only person that could see his other sides, the only person who knew him very very well, the only person he wanted to grow old with but everything was too late already.

he shouldn't have listened to you when you pushed him away and there, he would've never saw the pain look in your face when both of you separated your ways, he would've never saw the way you tried to stop yourself from crying infront of him, and he would've never saw the way you accepted to keep your wedding rings so desperately as if he would still be around you if you keep it.

satoru regretted every decision he made up until now, it was all of his fault, it was his fault why you had to leave, everything was his fault, you didn't have a choice because of him and he hoped that you've already forgave him for that. he really hoped so.

because of the heavy thoughts, satoru didn't know why his feet brought him to his best friend's apartment. maybe to ask how you were doing? are you still single? do you have a new lover now? was it suguru? are you both dating? oh gosh, he hoped not. it could be anyone but his best friend.

"(name) trusted you with it suguru, you shouldn't break your promise." satoru suddenly stopped on his tracks. that was shoko's voice, he was sure of it.

"but, don't you think he still has the right to know? satoru's the father after all."

"you're right though but—"

"what did you just say?" both eyes were widened at the sudden appearance as satoru revealed himself from hiding as he went closer to his best friends.

"when did you—"

"i'm the father? what do you mean?" satoru asked as he furrowed his eyebrows and suguru looked away from him. satoru could recognize the worried look of his best friend's face. "shoko?"

"well.." she mumbled, looking at suguru.

"are you hiding something from me?" satoru asked.

"it's not like that—" shoko said.

"then why do you both look nervous?"

"satoru." suguru called as he felt shoko's hand stop him and she shake her head left to right. "i'm sorry, but he needs to know."

"needs to know what? come on."

"satoru, you had a child, with (name)." and he couldn't be more surprised as he looked at suguru, lost and confused.

"what?"

"yeah, unfortunately, sanyu is—"

"stop." satoru said as he placed a hand on his temples. "is this some kind of prank? therefore, it's not funny."

"satoru, i'm not lying." suguru said, his expression blank.

"no. that's— that would be impossible.."

"go talk with her, satoru. heh, in the end, i couldn't keep my promise to her, huh?" suguru said as he placed a hand on his nape. "i'll send you the address, go." and satoru didn't waste any more time as he walked towards the front door but suguru stopped him again. "satoru." he called and suguru almost laughed at the worried and somehow excited look on his best friend's face. it's been a while since he saw that.

"what?" satoru said, cleary annoyed and impatient as suguru lightly smiled at him.

"be gentle with her, she's still vulnerable." satoru didn't get what suguru meant by that as he finally left, following the map where suguru had sent him.

you knew this day would've eventually come as you stand face to face with your ex-husband, he was panting and you were just about to go back home from the convenience store.

"(name).." he whispered your name as he took a step close to you, another one, and then another one as he started sprinting, embracing you in his arms and no one knew how much he missed feeling you around his arms. you let him embrace you but you stopped yourself from doing the same thing, you just stood there.

"why are you here?" you asked as satoru pulled away, his sleeve flying on his eyes as he slightly rubbed it. he was about to tear up.

"is it true?" satoru asked and he hoped you get what he meant with the question as you slowly nod your head.

"let's go inside my home first. it's getting cold here. i'll tell you everything there."

and there both of you ended up inside your home as satoru quietly inspected the surroundings. there was your picture and his son hanging on the wall.

"here." you said, handing him a glass of water. "i'm guessing suguru told you?"

"no. i actually overheard them."

"i see."

"so, where's.. um— can i see our child?" he asked and your heart ached at his question. you thought suguru told him already?

satoru didn't know what to do you when you started sobbing as you covered your face with your palms.

"you can't." you mumbled, wiping your tears as you look down on your lap.

"i understand.. but if you're—"

"you can't, satoru. we can't—"

"i know. i know you still don't trust me but i promise i will—"

"he's gone, satoru! don't you understand it? he's gone, he's dead, we can't see him anymore!" you exclaimed. everything was just overwhelming and you didn't mean to yell at him. "i'm sorry." you mumbled, once again, covering your face with your hands as you cry.

you felt his presence beside you as he wrapped his arms around you. he didn't know what else to do and satoru thought being close to you will help, being close to you will maybe help his almost shattering soul.

"i'm sorry." satoru said as he felt your arms around him. was this suguru meant when you were still vulnerable. he should've asked suguru to be more clear so there, satoru would know how to comfort you very well.

"i'm sorry, satoru. i kept him away from you when he wanted to see you. i should've pushed aside my own feelings and let sanyu meet you but i just couldn't, and now guilt is eating me up. it's my fault he couldn't see his papa on his last days. it was his last wishes but—"

"shh, stop it already. it's okay. don't blame yourself."

"i'm really sorry." no. satoru told himself he doesn't deserve your apologies and thinks everything was his fault to begin with.

"it was my fault that i couldn't be there for you. for our son. i deserve all the blame." satoru said as you slightly pulled away from him as you wiped your tears.

"it's not your fault either. sanyu was born with a weak heart. i couldn't protect him with that, no?" you said as you placed your hands on your lap.

"when we met at the parking lot, was that?.." you nodded your head in response as you recalled that day.

"that was the day after sanyu died." you mumbled and satoru couldn't help but clench his jaw. if only he knew.

satoru snapped out of his thoughts when he felt you sit up from the couch as you kneeled infront of the small table, taking something beneath it as you went back beside him.

"come, i'll show you his pictures." you said as you smiled at him and satoru couldn't help but mirror you. just for now, maybe you both could be happy, even just for now.

-

"he even cut his own hair, look!" you exclaimed, pointing a certain picture as satoru laughed with you.

he missed a lot things. when you were carrying his child, when his son was born, when his son was growing up. he wasn't there to witness everything and he almost– no, he regrets it so so much.

"i almost dyed his hair black 'cause he reminds me of you so much." you sighed as you closed the album, finally reaching its end as you place it on the table.

"we really do look like each other." satoru said as you lightly smile at him.

"you're not wrong." you responded and suddenly, it became silent.

"i'm sorry (name)." he started as you stayed still in your position. "i tried looking for you." he continued as he held your hand on his with you still avoiding to look at him. "why didn't you tell me before?" he said and that's what made you look at him. is he seriously asking you that?

"i don't know, satoru. do you?" you asked and he was completely taken aback.

"you should definitely go home now, someone might be waiting for you.." you said as you stand up from the couch, only for him to stop you by your wrist.

you looked at him for a moment and he did too. he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out as your hand slowly slipped out of his grasp and you turned your back at him.

"if you want to know more about sanyu, just ask."

it's been a week since you and satoru talked things out. it felt good to be able to talk everything with him. you thought at some point that satoru will hate you even more for not informing him about his son's existence but it was the opposite.

and maybe, you shouldn't have stalked his social and there you wouldn't stumble on his ex' account, because you never knew that it would hurt you this much, that it would hurt your already, broken heart.

you felt some type of jealousy seeing his family be happy in those pictures. they even went on a trip, on different places and many more. satoru looked happy. maybe if those mistakes were prevented back then, it would be you, him and sanyu.

there were missed calls and unread messages from suguru and shoko but you didn't have the energy to reply to each of them.

you just wanted to lay in your bed all day, almost wishing that sanyu would knock at your door asking for a help with his assignment, but no, it wouldn't happen anymore. you were all alone now, you'll never be able to feel happiness again, everything felt too empty for you to feel any type of emotions except for sorrow.

-

your eyes slowly opened when you felt something cold in your forehead.

"you're finally awake."

"what happened?" you asked as you tried to sit up from the bed, only for satoru to push you back.

"don't stand up yet. you passed out on the living room. you've been sleeping for a day already. are you eating? don't starve yourself." he talks too fast that you almost didn't catch his words.

"why are you here?" you asked.

"well.. i guess i want to know more about sanyu." he said as he hesitantly looked at you. "i'm sorry for walking around your house without your permission but, i saw a small shrine on the room beside here. is that sanyu's?" satoru asked as you nod at him.

"i forgot to tell you but i had sanyu cremated."

"okay, i understand."

"you can visit him anytime if you want."

"that would be great. thank you."

satoru did visit once a week. you noted that it was always on thursdays, just like suguru had told you that satoru's always available on thursdays.

your house would be messy if satoru wasn't around but if you knew that he'll be visiting, you'll force yourself to clean the house. you didn't want him to see you in worst state again, not anymore. he didn't have to know that you were starving yourself, that you would only eat when he brings you food.

he doesn't need to know. not that he would care, right? satoru is not in the position to care for you after all. he only visits for his son, it's wasn't because of you. maybe you should stop being delusional and face the reality that satoru and you couldn't work together anymore. he already has a family on his own. he has nothing to do with you anymore. a part of you is still hoping though but then again, he doesn't need to know.

there was a time where satoru visited you on tuesday. it was unexpected that he caught you almost hurting yourself. house and room messy.

it hurts him to see you like this. he couldn't help but to compare the old you to the you now. a big difference. he doesn't see you smile anymore. he doesn't hear your laugh anymore.

"you needn't to hurt yourself, okay? tell me if i can help in any way." he said as you sit on the couch, knees close to your chest as you stare at nothing.

your thoughts was playing with you because all of the sudden, you recalled everything that has happened between you and satoru. his mistakes, his wrongdoings, his happy family. your blood started to boil and you couldn't help but blame him in your mind. that it was his fault why sanyu have to suffer.

"hey, i know it still hurting you but—"

"you know nothing!" you exclaimed which took him off guard. he was unfamiliar with that look in your face.

"(name), calm down." he said as he tried to reach for you, only for you to slap his hand away.

"shut up! don't order me around! can you just leave my house?" you yelled. "this is all your fault." you mumbled and satoru heard it loud and clear. you weren't wrong though. "leave! i don't want to see you anymore. i hate you."

-

and even if you push him as many times as you want, satoru would not lose hope. he still visits you and sanyu. though he took note of the changes in your mood sometimes.

satoru visited late than usual. you already fell asleep on the couch. you swore you weren't waiting for him or something. it just happened that you got tired from the cleaning the house.

after the usual visit of you and satoru in your child's room both decided to eat the food he brought.

"sorry i was late. i had a hard time choosing a ring—" he cuts off himself with a fake cough as he looked away from you. "anyway, sorry for making you wait."

"it's fine. thank you for bringing me food."

"of course."

today, you seemed a lot more good now. satoru can notice you smile everytime. he didn't want to assume that you're smiling because of him though.

"is there something wrong?" he asked when he noticed you staring at him.

"i'm fine. thank you for visiting." you said as you walked satoru at the front door. "oh wait." you said, walking back to your room as satoru stood still on the front door and you went back after a minute.

"take this." you said, handing him a certain necklace.

"for me?" satoru said, taking the necklace in your hand.

"i asked them to put a little bit of sanyu ashes inside. you can't open that anymore since they locked it." satoru's eyes widened at your words.

"thank you." he said as you smiled at him.

"here, let me help." you said, as you wear the necklace on him. "sanyu will always be by your side, wherever you are." you said as you smiled and suddenly, satoru turned around, his face was too close to you and you think he could almost hear on how loud your beating heart is.

you awkwardly took a step back as you cleared your throat to ease the awkward tension.

"thank you (name), really. i will treasure this." he said as you smiled at him, for the last time.

"sorry for yelling at you sometimes, satoru."

"don't worry, i understand. just let me know if you want to release some stress. i'll try my best to help." he said and despite of answering, you only smiled, again.

"thank you, satoru. sanyu was the best son i could ever have." you said and he suddenly placed a hand on your head. like how he always does before as he leaned to your level.

"thank you for raising our child." he said as you look at him with widened eyes and you couldn't help but frown as you place a hand close to your chest.

stop giving me false hope, satoru.

"take care." you couldn't help but tear up as you whispered those words as satoru left. be happy, always. even if it's without me.

"i had a hard time choosing a ring." you mumbled, mimicking his words.

you smiled but what you were feeling inside was opposite. maybe you shouldn't expect too much because in the end, if reality didn't reach your expectations, it'll just hurt you more.

it really hurts to think that you made a man for another woman but, it is what it is. you're just glad that satoru seemed to cherish his new family now.

he did changed a lot, huh.

"satoru."

"be quick, suguru. i'm a bit busy right now." satoru said as he heard his best friend sigh at the other line.

"did (name) said something to you?" satoru immediately sat properly on his office chair when he heard your name.

"nothing much. she gave me a necklace though, why?"

"i see. look, if you have time today come in her house."

"why? what happened?"

"do you have a time today, at least?"

"i guess i could try." satoru said. "is there something wrong with (name)." satoru asked and there was a long pause from suguru's end before he answered.

-

satoru went back from what it seemed like a long trip as he sat on his office chair.

he stared at a certain velvet box on his table. his black glasses was discarded as he lightly move the office chair left to right.

he did had a hard time choosing a ring. he doesn't know of you still like the same design. did you change your preferences?he doesn't know that's why satoru bought a limited edition ring for you. he was told that the ring brings luck and now he just wanted to throw the ring in the middle of an ocean.

"brings luck my ass." he muttered. he was too tired to think. he refused to believe suguru's words because he just saw you 2 days ago. was suguru playing pranks on him again?

"she's been found in her room. unalive." suguru's words kept repeating inside his head like a broken radio as he clutched the necklace on his hand.

he was supposed to ask you to start over again, to try things out again, from there, he swore that he wouldn't do the same mistake again but it was all too late now.

maybe the universe didn't want you and him to be together again that's why they took you away from him, his son too. he knew he did mistakes back then but was it too much that they have to take his family away forever?

yeah, this must be his punishment for doing those unforgiving things to you.

-

"suguru, do you think (name) would agree if i ask her to start over again?"

"there's nothing wrong with trying, satoru, but know that people tend to change. don't be surprised when she doesn't want you in her life anymore." suguru said as his best friend kept quiet. "but what about them?"

"who?"

"your ex and your son."

"i couldn't care less about her, but i still cherish sanyu since he grew up with me, even if he's not my legal child."

"you don't really want to tell (name) about it?" suguru suggested and satoru couldn't help but think if he could do what his best friend is suggesting.

"what's the point? will it change everything?" satoru mumble, an ache going straight to his chest. "it hurts for me to say this but i only accepted to raise sanyu because i couldn't stop thinking of (name), of having a family with her. i forced myself to believe that he's our son. i didn't even know that (name) is actually carrying our child."

"why don't you just sue your ex for paternity fraud?"

"there's no point in it. she's still sanyu's mother."

"you're too nice, satoru."

no, he wasn't. in fact, he almost sent his ex to prison but he couldn't stop thinking of how sanyu will react if he found out that his mother was sent to jail by his father. he was too young for those things.

but satoru asks himself, why? why does he have to do these things? why does he have to think of how sanyu would feel? they weren't relatives anyway. he could take everything he spent for raising sanyu, he could just leave them to live their own life, but he just couldn't do it.

"if only i could go back in time." satoru mumbled and suguru didn't know what do respond to that anymore. if only.

tags: @skylarlyn823 @mo0nforme @mor-pheus @he4rts444mi @bubblysunwoosworld @arieltate @imaniitheoneee @kaiiriiis @ichikanu @witchbybirth @yoimiya-m @hojoslutoru @itsvalomfg I COULDN'T TAG THE OTHERS SORRY TvT

#nana.gumi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk angst #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #satoru angst

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Quid Pro Quo | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: After being ditched by her friend at the Trinity College Christmas Party, she finds herself enthralled with learning the language of Michael Gavey | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Part Two: Carpe Diem Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici

warnings: virgin michael, semi-public sexual conduct, oral sex (m receiving), heavy petting

If she has to listen to Professor Wardon swoon over Ancient Greek and how it ‘drove him to pursue his dreams in extending his passion to other students’, she thinks she might actually fall asleep.

She's in a good spot to do so, nestled between two other students, the one on her right seemingly just as bored as her, and conveniently hidden behind a tall, lanky first year, who sits straight, with his head perfectly obscuring hers as he fixes his posture regularly.

Several times throughout, she's checked her watch, and yet the second hand never seems to move an inch.

Professor Wardon is just about to go on a lovesick spiel about Homeric Greek when the lecture concludes with a heaved sigh from every student as they sling their hefty bags over their shoulders.

“Remember I want 2,500 words on Les Liaisons dangereuses in my pigeon hole by next Thursday, before your Christmas parties!” 

“Oh joy,” she sighs with a grin to the girl walking shoulder to shoulder beside her as they leave, feeling noticeably lighter knowing that that's their last lecture before Christmas break.

“Christ, you're telling me. I can't be arsed to even right my own name at the moment, nevermind read 18th century fucking French.”

She gives a snort in reply, “Merry Christmas to us, eh? Should do what the French do and have a revolution or something.”

“Yeah, eat our lecturers or something.”

“Alright, I wouldn't go that far.”

“Anyway, I'm off to T Library, see ya, have a good Christmas and don't do anything I wouldn't!”

She waves her off as her friend disappears, the cold air of the outside nipping at her skin that manages to sneak beneath her coat.

Oxford University is not what she imagined at all. She came here very much feeling like an outsider, like there'd been some sort of paperwork mistake and it was supposed to be someone else in her place. 

The imposter syndrome seemed difficult to shift, but she'd at least managed to make a couple of friends since starting in September.

Languages had always found her well, and seemingly the only thing she managed to actually understand. People were inconsistent, cruel and fickle. Languages, though they shifted and changed, were firmly rooted in reason and understanding. 

As sad as it sounded, conjugating verbs, vowel shifts and rare dialects were the one thing she found herself itching to discover more about. The idea that there was more to uncover seemed exciting and scary at the same time.

And Oxford University was the best place she could be to do that.

All that said, her eagerness to get involved with her studies had left her social life with much to be desired.

In the first two weeks of university alone, she'd gained one friend and lost a boyfriend. And while they were drifting apart anyway, it was still a relatively large blow to her self-esteem and her confidence to actually get out there, socialise and make the most of her first year of freedom.

The only friends she'd made were those on her course. Priya, who'd just abandoned her to stick her nose in books about the Great Vowel Shift, and Anya, who…to be honest, rarely left her room. Seeming more like a ghost than anything else.

It was a wonder she was still a student, with how often she missed classes.

What Anya does do best, is manage to somehow rise out of her pit to drag her to Christmas parties that aren't even run by their college.

Which is why she finds herself somehow at Trinity College campus, where she eyes several scantily clad women wearing revealing Santa costumes adorned with itchy tinsel.

Anya is the sort of girl who, well, every girl kind of wants to be. So much so she sort of wonders why she hangs around with her. She's pretty, fit and fucking clever. Her only downfall is her taste in men, so often being Oxford pretty boys.

So it is absolutely no surprise at all, when two jägerbombs in, Anya has somehow slipped into the arms of one aforementioned Oxford pretty boy, seeming in every way a clone of the previous, with the exception of the way he pairs his Ayia Nappa top with his low rise jeans and the only effort to conform to  theme, is a pair of plastic reindeer antlers on his head bobbling side to side.

She grimaces as she watches them suck each other's faces off in a dark corner of the room, ‘Stay Another Day’ by East 17 blaring with a cheap crackle through the speakers as she makes her way through the bodies to somewhere quiet.

She sighs, nursing the rum and coke Anya had sloppily poured her in one hand as she closes the door behind her, shutting out the drunken squeals and cheers for the peace of a quiet common room.

It's still decorated, she notes, but empty. Maybe she could lurk here until Anya is done, if she ever will be.

The deep clack of a pool ball being sucked into a socket makes her jump, realising perhaps that she was not actually alone, as she'd previously thought.

The cool light hung above the battered pool table illuminates his deep red jumper, and the first thing she sees is the way he leans on one leg, standing straight as if he was imitating the rigid pool cue leant before him. The yellow lined detailing around the cuffs highlights his small wrists and big hands that stretch from it as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip.

Her eyes trail up the back of his neck, past the lazy waves of dark blonde hair, clearly due a trim at some point, and to his face, even from this angle able to see how his features sit. With a sharp nose and jawline, and black skinny glasses perched above his cheekbones.

She almost laughs at the way he's almost as tall as the light that illuminates the table, half-thinking that she might never have seen such a strange and yet interesting looking guy.

“Didn't fancy the party?” she finally says, alerting him to her presence.

She doesn't quite expect the way the light bounces off his sharp features, sinking his blue eyes in shadow as his head turns to her with an expression of boredom.

“Not particularly, no.” 

His voice is lighter than she thought it would be and part of her wonders if he's putting it on. He presses his glasses further up his nose before assessing his next shot, stalking around the table.

“Why's that?”

This time, when he answers, he doesn't look at her. He simply leans down, and aims.

“Not. Fucking. Invited,” he replies bitterly, missing a yellow, “that's why.”

Her fingertips moisten against the glass as the ice begins to melt, but she pays it no mind.

“So you're lurking about in here instead.”

He plays with the cue in one hand, barely sparing a second glance, a bitter, quiet laugh escaping him.

He misses another red before he heaves a sigh, straightening to look at her again.

“You here alone as well?” he asks dispassionately.

She smiles lazily and shrugs.

“My mate is…a bit preoccupied, if you know what I mean,” she replies, taking an awkward sip of the now watered down drink, “like you, I don't really think these are my thing either.”

He seems to consider her statement for a moment.

“Why come then?”

She shrugs again, “trying to be sociable.”

“With those vapid cunts? Good luck getting any intelligent conversation out of them.”

She watches as he picks up the blue chalk again, applying more when he doesn't even need it in sort of a nervous gesture, his blue eyes averted and pretending to assess his next move.

There's something about him. How judgemental he is and how he forms his words. Perhaps she hadn't expected this sort of guy to be so outwardly honest with his opinions, and for the most part, she can't say she disagrees with the message, just the way in which he said it.

“Can I play?” She asks, leaning over to put her drink down.

“What are you reading?” He asks so suddenly, and out of context, that she does a double take.

She raises her eyebrows, smiling, “Does my answer depend on if I get to play or not?”

There's no answer from him. Shocker of the century.

“Modern Languages.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

She's a bit too happy and dizzy on rum to get defensive.

“Is that one of those subjects that sounds way less interesting than it actually ends up being?”

She gives a breathy laugh, “just like languages.”

He hums, as if the answer didn't impress him, “more of a science and numbers man myself, obviously.”

For a moment, it's lost on her why it's obvious.

He takes a sip of his, no doubt, stale beer, wetting his lips after, “Your name is?”

She narrows her eyes teasingly, smiling as she leans against the table, “quid pro quo.”

She enjoys the brief confusion on his face, before he realises what she's said.

“Okay, okay, Michael.”

She smiles, “See? You know what that meant. Who says you're not a languages man?”

It's the first time he seems to duck his head, hiding a blush she's barely able to see.

“I don’t think the Ancient Roman idea of fair exchange warrants the title of ‘languages man’.” 

The blue chalk comes off on his hands as he fiddles nervously with it.

“So, am I bestowed the privilege of playing?”

He raises his head, and she can tell he's trying his damndest to not let a little beer-induced smile pass his lips.

“I suppose I could allow you to embarrass yourself in front of me for a bit, if you insist. We'll have to share a cue though.”

She doesn't have the heart to tell him her uncle was a pool player, and so by extension, has played pool for most of her upbringing. Rather, he finds out himself when she pots three yellows in a row.

It's either the alcohol or pity that kicks in when she misses the fourth, holding the cue for him to take.

“You being good at pool wasn't on my bingo card,” he mutters with some nervous teasing in his voice.

They go back and forth for a bit, missing some, potting some, with interspersed conversation between. 

“Thought you might have been a Norman-no -mates, like me,” he says quietly as he watches her assess her next shot. Bending to aim.

“You're not far off,” she replies, “first fortnight I was down a boyfriend. Since then, I've only been up two friends and one of them is in the other room  having ditched me for the shag of a lifetime.”

She doesn't see it until after she takes the shot, the way his eyes flit back to hers quickly as she rights herself to stand.

Was he checking me out?

As if he was lagging, he only laughs now at what she's said.

“What about you?” She asks, “no girls, or boys, on the scene?”

He blushes a lot when she asks that. And she can't help the fluttering in her chest she feels that someone might find her attractive.

“Can’t say there is.”

She stands close, passing the cue to him, electricity warming her fingertips as she grazes his.

“And why not?”

He scoffs bitterly, “have you seen me?” he mutters, wandering around the table, suddenly unable to shake the feeling of her gaze, “Not too many girls out there looking for the stereotypical nerdy math boy, really.”

“Hm,” she hums, “how unfortunate for them.”

He sinks a red, picking at his red jumper.

“Yeah, they're clearly missing out, huh?”

The bitter and self-deprecating tone of his voice makes her heart sink a bit. He's not a bad looking guy, she thinks. His style, glasses, hair, she would almost say look actually quite cute.

Maybe that's the thing he doesn't like.

“No interest? Or is maths the only one for you?”

He misses the next shot and sighs, holding the cue for her to take, “clearly, the only one I need.”

She steps close to retrieve, taking her time, looking up at him as she does. At this proximity, Michael sucks in a breath quietly, his lips, which she can't say she'd noticed until right this moment, parting and his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flit rapidly down her.

A warmth swirls in her gut at that.

She circles the table, “what about in the past?” 

He leans against the other side, his hand on the cushion, long fingers splayed on the green fabric. She has to shake her head to break her own trance.

“Can’t say my love life has exactly been a roaring success, honestly.”

The way he says it.

She wouldn't be surprised if he was…

Oh.

“So what? You're focussed on your studies?”

She misses. Too set on the conversation rather than the game.

He gives a mirthless laugh, “Sure.”

She rounds the table, holding the cue for him to take, but when he reaches for it, she pulls back with a smirk.

“So we've established you're not one for languages,” she starts, and Michael furrows his brows in confusion, “have you ever really asked for what you want? Ever?”

He seems to miss what she's trying to say.

“Have you been with a girl?”

At that, his eyes widen slightly, a blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, cheeks near matching his shirt.

She knows she has her answer.

“Well…I…no, I haven't…”

At chest height, she can see the way his breathing elevates.

“And, hypothetically, if a girl expressed interest. What would you say?”

His lips part for a good few seconds before he gives a reply, “I’d…I um…I guess it depends who…”

It's like he's afraid she'll make fun of him for it. 

“What about, if it was me?” She asks, her voice lowering as she reaches out to pick some lint off his jumper, like it's the most normal thing in the world. His body goes all rigid as she does.

This isn't normal in his world.

Michael swallows thickly, “you're not taking the Mick out of me, are you?”

She shakes her head, “I just want you to feel comfortable asking for what you want.”

For someone who had so often thought about it, now when faced with the situation, he feels as if he doesn't know what to do or say.

She's still stood with the cue in one hand, close enough so that when she shifts her weight from foot to foot, her knee grazes his leg. It's interesting to watch him think so deeply about it. Convinced he's probably never thought of anything so much in his life.

“What if what I want is…you?”

The tension deepens like the tone and volume of his voice. And without effort, a smile finds its way to her face when she looks at his expression. He's frozen stiff, for once, not knowing what to say.

So nothing shocks her more when he grabs the pool cue as a means of pulling her to him, and he has to duck considerably to press his lips clumsily to hers. He's eager, that much is true, but it's clear he's inexperienced. But instead of causing discomfort, she thinks it's quite endearing.

The pool cue clangs to the floor as she braces her hands on his shoulders and chest, guiding his lips with her own in a slower, more careful movement. She feels the edge of the pool table bite into her lower back when he presses her against it, clearly excited, if the hardness that's flush to her stomach is anything to go by.

The hands she had been staring at not half an hour ago are bruising as they trace her waist and hips, with a grip tight enough to tell her exactly how much he's enjoying the experience.

For a moment, they're not in a common room alone, against a pool table, with ‘Cheetah-licious Christmas’ playing in the room over, the bass of which rumbles through the floor and into their chests.

The kiss lasts a long while, and she has a feeling he wants to savour it as if it's the last time he will ever be able to do it. 

One of her hands snakes its way to the back of his head, fingers gripping at his hair to pull him closer as either of them tilt to aid more contact between them. And at the little amount of tugging, Michael whines into her mouth, prompting him to pull away.

He looks halfway between mortified and pleased, his glasses having skewed to one side with the eagerness of what they'd done. And she laughs a bit, reaching up to fix them, which seems to make the mortification fade somewhat from his face.

Michael looks down between them, where his obvious erection is pressed to her, and pulls away slightly with a scarlet blush.

“Shit - sorry-”

“It's fine,” she reassures, “no need to be embarrassed.”

The words alone would be enough, if her hand hadn't snaked between their bodies to brush her palm over him. And if it were possible, his flush spreads to his neck, words failing him once more.

Her eyes flicker up to his, their lips all kiss-bruised and swollen.

“If you don't want to-”

“No, no, I want to…” he says, immediately embarrassed about how quick it was.

She smiles, one hand palming him through his jeans and the other trailing up his chest, “Sit down.”

He backs up to sit on a nearby sofa, watching with a kind of adoration as she makes space between his legs, her eyes glimmering at him as she slowly undoes his belt.

“If at any time, you need to stop, tell me.”

He gives a nervous laugh, his stomach muscles tightening, wondering probably if this is really happening to him, “Not sure I will want to…”

She smiles reassuringly, watching as his lips part as she palms him through his boxers, trying to suppress how impressed she is with his size.

It's always the skinny white guys.

“Well, the offer's there.” She smirks, pulling him from his boxers, Michael gives a suffered breath, feeling her touch on him and also her breath so close. He almost feels dizzy. The thought of this happening in this situation, with a party going on next door, is dangerous and exciting in equal measure.

She knows he has very limited experience, so decides not to tease him too much.

Michael gasps softly as she licks at the base of him, drawing a wet line with her tongue along the vein underneath, all the way to the tip. She concentrates her efforts slightly on the sensitive spot there before closing her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking gently.

She feels the way his thighs tense, and the blue disappearing as he closes his eyes. His fists are tight beside him, knuckles white, like he doesn't know if he should touch her or not. All he knows right now is that this feeling is brand new, and the sensation is so much already.

She pulls herself from him to run her tongue over his length, one hand moving to his hand, to encourage him. His blue eyes crack open just a bit, to understand what she's trying to tell him.

And she fights the urge to smile as his longer fingers swipe across her temple into her hair, his touch tender, soft and unsure as he holds her by it. 

Her lips wrap around him once more, pushing him further into her mouth, taking him steadily and slowly at first. Michael's hips move barely, chasing the friction that he's getting on his cock when she bobs her head on him and hollows her cheeks.

He watches with parted lips and warm cheeks, moving her hair away so he can watch himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Her hand massages the rest of him, giving him two unique sensations in one, something that earns her a deep, throaty moan.

When her eyes open to look at him, he thinks his heart stops in his chest for a split second. He closes his eyes, not able to bear the way she looks with his cock in her mouth if she looks right at him, feeling that if he did any longer he wouldn't last.

The sounds he emits don't stop there as she increases her pace on him, pressing her tongue to the underside of him and taking him deeper into her throat, humming around him at the heady scent of his skin.

It's only when she takes him as far as he will go, working hard to control her gag reflex that he gives the first genuine buck of his hips, tightening in her hair and a far-too-loud moan. If anyone in the next room were quiet and paying attention, they'd likely know exactly what was going on.

“Fuck-”

It only serves to spur her on as she pulls back, moving in a more steady, quick rhythm, that she is sure Michael is loving judging by the rate of his moans and the way he chokes out his words.

His stomach clenches and unclenches, his high creeping up on him as her mouth tightens around his length. 

“Shit - you need to - I'm gonna -” he chokes, weakly tugging her hair in an effort to pull her mouth off him before he cums.

If she didn't have his cock in her mouth she'd smile.

Her hand squeezes the base of him, and Michael throws his head back slightly, a long shuddered and choked moan reverberating through his chest. She swears she feels his thighs shake as she stills, warm ropes of his cum taste musky at the back of her throat.

His loud moan is followed quickly by more softer ones as her throat contracts to swallow as much as she can, briefly increasing the tension and friction around his sensitive length.

When she pulls off him with a pleased sigh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Michael sits up slightly, having to gather his breath.

“Fucking hell…”

She takes it as a compliment and rises to her feet, her hands smoothing her skirt back down.

And she squeaks in delight as Michael quickly tucks himself away, barely doing up his jeans buttons before backing her up to the pool table again, kissing her fervently.

“What about you…do I…” he starts when he breaks away, panting softly. She smiles at the notion but shakes her head. This experience was for him alone.

“Not right now, don't feel inclined to,” she reassured, her hands on his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating rapidly beneath it.

“Right now?” he asks with a quiet, unsure tone, “does that mean…there's gonna be a next time?”

His tone is careful, and yet, she is able to detect something like desire there. An excitement for more, without seeming too eager so that he's not let down if she says no. Something that makes it clear he is 100% on board.

She bites back a grin.

“Quid Pro Quo, Michael.”

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#michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey x y/n #michael gavey x oc #michael gavey fanfic #michael gabey fanfiction #michael gavey fic #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x female reader #michael gabey x fem!reader #saltburn fanfiction #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell characters #saltburn fic #michael gavey saltburn

[galedekarios]

gale as a professor at blackstaff academy

i have to say that at first i wasn't too sold on the (then still fanon) idea of a professor ending because of gale's own prior anecdote about being irked by his previous students and their inadequacies.

i thought it might not be a good fit for him as far as professions go.

but reading the epilogue files, i have come around on it.

i think it's just one more way in which he's really grown into himself, become content with who he was in the past, the mistakes he made and what he has learned from them, and the person he wants to be in the future:

Player: You? A teacher? I'd hardly say you set the best example for impressionable young wizards... Gale: I think it makes perfect sense. devnote: Surprised you wouldn't recognise this, a tiny bit offended you don't trust him to do this Gale: Who better to warn of the perils of misusing magic than someone who was once only a wayward sneeze away from destroying a mid-sized settlement? devnote: playing up to his past a bit, you can imagine this is how he acts with his students Tara the Tressym: Don't remind me of those terrible times, Mr Dekarios. My blood pressure has only just recovered.

a few more cute banters & things we learn about gale and his new teaching position:

tara swipes at students who fall asleep in gale's classes, which he himself doesn't mind. he, too, slept through some of them (like his calishite lessons):

Player: Perhaps that's a good thing. I'm sure they're far better students than I was... Gale: Ah, so you still remember our little lesson? devnote: A little bit bashful, it was a vulnerable moment for him Gale: 'Teaching' you was hardly an effort at all. Not like my present cohort of apprentices. devnote: Complimentary, pulling the thought back to the teaching element after getting lost in the memory of the moment Gale: They try their best, of course - when they can manage to stay awake. devnote: Not upset by this - he slept through his fair share of classes as a student Tara the Tressym: The cheek of them! Nothing a well-placed swipe from Tara can't fix, though.

2. gale offered to teach more subjects than illusion via simulacra:

Player: Only a professor? With your expertise, I'd have thought you could teach every kind of magic going... Gale: I did offer, as a matter of fact. devnote: Secretly glad the player thinks so highly of him Gale: However, the Blackstaff insisted I couldn't teach every subject, nor could the simulacra of myself I offered to create for that purpose. devnote: Reluctantly accepts that this was the right decision Gale: So, I've settled for teaching the art of illusion. Magic to confound the senses, to render the impossible into reality, and to allow expression of that most magical attribute of all - imagination. devnote: Selling it a bit - he wants to make sure you appreciate how cool this is

3. gale has told his students about the player's adventures and will invite a player to be a guest lecturer:

Player: I found the love of my life. I'd say I'm pretty happy. Gale: And I couldn't be happier for you. A fitting reward for the sacrifices you made in getting here. Gale: I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know. Gale: I'd be delighted to introduce you to my current cohort - as a guest lecturer, perhaps? I'm sure they'd have plenty of questions for you. Player: It would be my pleasure. Gale: Excellent. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the allure of sharing your expertise. Gale: Of course you'll be most welcome to stay with me in my tower- Tara the Tressym: Ahem. Gale: My apologies, Tara. That would be our tower.

4. his students find him somewhat intimidating due to his backstory with mystra and the orb:

Gale: Well, that was quite lovely. I'm glad you're as pleased to see me as I am you. Gale: I have to say, I'm quite grateful to just be 'Gale' for the evening. Gale: I fear my students find me somewhat intimidating, due to my erm, explosive former reputation. I seem to put the fear of the gods into them. devnote: He plays up to his reputations a bit, so he isn't overly surprised Gale: Or the fear of Mystra, to be more specific. Gale: I surrendered the Crown of Karsus to her, as I told you I would. And in return, she cured me of the orb at last. Gale: Even now, I struggle to put the feeling into words. It was like exhaling for the first time, after holding my breath for so very long. Gale: Of course, I haven't clarified with my students that the orb is no longer a threat. The legend of my explosive capabilities is an excellent means of controlling a classroom. Too good, if anything.

5. he wants to teach his students that there is fun in studying magic:

Gale: I spend most of my time trying to convince them how much fun the study of magic can be, but it'd be easier to crack a smile on an intellect devourer than some of my pupils... devnote: Despairing a little, doesn't understand why they aren't all as passionate as he was Player: Or on a mind flayer, perhaps... Gale: Smiling may no longer come easy to you, but I've seen how your tentacles twitch at my jokes. Even the ones I'm not entirely certain I was trying to make... devnote: Last sentence a tiny bit self-conscious, aware that people sometimes find him ridiculous. Gale: Still, I hoped my students might be a little more open to the playful side of such magic.

anyhow, i hope this was insightful to someone! 🖤

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 patch 5 spoilers #bg3 meta #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

[physalian]

Plot Holes and How to Fill Them (Or, The Hidden Potential in Your Mistakes)

“But why didn’t they just do that earlier!”

“You can time travel – so time travel!”

“Doesn’t X have Y spell? Why aren’t they using it to escape?”

“You. Have. Telekinesis! How are you this stupid?”

Plot holes! The bane of every writer’s existence. You think you’ve polished your beautiful manuscript, you have it all sent out for the masses to consume and praise and shower with compliments and adoration… and then they start tugging at a thread that may or may not begin to unravel your entire story. You’ve read this thing top to bottom, forwards and backwards and upside down, so many times the letters are burned into your brain. You mumble your monologues in your sleep — how did you not see this? How do you fix this?

See this post about beginning the writing process that might help you avoid opening a plot hole entirely with a solid enough script and outline.

Types of Plot Holes

Your magic system’s established rules have just been broken for TeNSioN

Your Deus Ex Machina really did come out of nowhere and is quite out of character

Why doesn't Character just run away from a fight they can't win?

Characters forgetting they have superpowers, extreme intelligence, handy tools or weapons, survival skills, common sense, or crucial information to escape and/or solve a situation

Characters dying for the above mistakes when said death could have been avoided

The entire story could have been avoided had Character A just told Character B the truth

Character X should have known ___ all along given their profession/backstory/friend circle/education/personality

And variations of the above, I’m sure I’m missing a couple. Fixing plot holes generally come in two camps: Those you can fix by rewriting the existing manuscript that contains the hole, or those you have to work around from a previous manuscript that’s already been published.

Why Plot Holes Happen

Plot holes happen in reality. Expecting your first, second, or 15th draft to be completely foolproof is utter nonsense. Real people forget stuff they’re supposed to know all the time, tools that would be useful are left behind, GroupThink makes very bad decisions.

The difference is: You are writing fiction. Your goal is to be entertaining, not necessarily realistic. A character simply *forgetting* Macguffin X at the climax of the story does not make for an entertaining read, no matter how likely it might be to happen in the real world.

You’re making this entire world up as you go and that alone is an impressive feat millions of others can only dream about – cut yourself some slack, okay? Everything is fixable.

Plot holes also happen because we’re so engrossed in our own story that we forget it’s all made up. You’re 22 chapters into a 24 chapter novel and you’ve just realized your psychic hero would never have been caught unawares like this. “But that’s just how he is!”

No. Stop. That’s not just how he is. That’s just how you wrote him – and you can go back and un-write him. Any excuse you can dream up you can un-write, and unfortunately, you’ll likely have to do a fair bit of it if you still have the opportunity.

Plot holes generally open long after the inciting incident that causes them. If you’re going to fix it, duct-taping together a solution in that very same scene isn’t the way to do it. You have to figure out why it’s a hole at all, then go back and fix its foundations.

Finding Your Own Plot Holes

Sometimes you’re lucky enough to stumble upon them before it’s too late. A fair bit of the time, though, your audience has to tell you. Finding your own plot holes requires stepping back from your work and looking at it like you’re just a reader, not the author.

Read your plot out loud to yourself and keep asking questions like:

Does this make sense for the scene?

Does this only exist to look cool at the cost of logic?

Are these rules I wrote too easy to break or contradictory in any way?

Is there any other way for this character to escape this situation?

Is the only solution here too contrived?

That, and having an army of beta readers who should show you flaws you’ve overlooked. Even then, some things just aren’t obvious at all until someone too smart for their own good points out something no one else considered before.

It’s okay. It’s not the end of the world.

Filling Plot Holes

Fix your broken magic system

A “magic system” broadly describes any type of powers/abilities/supernatural entities that function in your world. They can be in high fantasy, urban fantasy, sci-fi, or any genre really. The Force is a magic system, as much as is bending in Last Airbender even if no one calls it “magic”.

For example: Force users are telekinetic… and yet don’t simply repeatedly spam the “chuck my enemies into a wall/off a cliff/anywhere that is away from me” button. It’s what you’d call a “soft” magic system, it doesn’t have explicit rules on how and when it can and should be used. It just *is*.

Fixing holes in your magic system first demands examining why you wrote it the way you did, why you gave it these specific rules, or why you didn’t, and all the ways characters should otherwise be able to use it when your story demands they get creative.

For soft magic systems — never let the magic system win the day. It invites far too much scrutiny. Gandalf from Lord of the Rings is a Wizard. He can do an undefined number of spells and has an unclear number of abilities and limit to his reach. Gandalf’s magic is never the saving grace of the Fellowship. So asking “why didn’t Gandalf just do X” isn’t ever a question people have because success never depends on Gandalf doing X.

Everyone hates on the time turner in Harry Potter, as they should. Time travel is essential to the plot of Prisoner of Azkaban, without it the heroes fail. And yet, because it is time travel, why it never existed earlier and why they never use it again to solve more massive plot problems is a valid question. As goes with many spells and abilities in the series.

For hard magic systems — remember that you wrote the rules, you can go back and change them at any time before it’s published. Bending in Last Airbender is rarely the focus of any conflict. Yes, two benders will fight each other, but it’s not “who’s the stronger bender,” it’s “who’s smarter with their element”. Who better uses their environment? Which one is racing against a clock before reinforcements arrive and overwhelm them? Which one runs the risk of exposing themselves if they start bending? Whose mental state is crippling their bending today?

These are all character-driven explanations for why certain abilities do or don’t manifest in a given scene… until the finale when it really is just a clash of red and blue aura lasers.

There is never a scene where a character is trapped when they shouldn’t be. Never a “why didn’t you just X” moment, because it’s never about the bending, it’s about the bender.

Turn plot-reasons into character-reasons

This means taking a “why don’t they just do X” and making the reason because one of the protagonists is morally against doing it, not because the hand of the author demands it.

In Last Airbender, Aang is vocally against simply killing the Fire Lord. It would be easier, it would risk far less casualties and carnage, it’s fastest. And yet. Aang doesn’t do it simply because he’s not strong enough or he doesn’t have some magical super weapon, or the stars have aligned and now he’s lost a very convenient ability – Aang doesn’t want to take the easy road because that’s who he is as a person.

He’s been raised as a monk to value the preservation of life above all else (ignoring any accidental casualties over the course of the series). Him being desperate to not simply kill Ozai is central to his character and even when he has the chance in the climax of the fight, he still doesn’t take it.

Now “why didn’t you do that earlier” does, still, concern the “energy bending” established out of nowhere just for the finale so Aang doesn’t have to compromise his morals to win… but the show is so damn good and Ozai’s just desserts so damn sweet it doesn’t really matter.

Making these plot decisions character decisions, so long as they are in-character, gives some juicy potential for schisms within Team Protagonist as fan favorites clash over ideals and morals and whether or not the greater good is worth them sacrificing something so central to their being.

This also applies to characters not sharing crucial information with each other. Make them distrustful of the others, or let them attempt it anyway and have some other consequence for the effort. Anything is better than a character sitting on valuable info simply to maintain the mystery.

Avoid Deus Ex Machinas

The “surprise reinforcement cavalry charge” is one of my favorite deus ex machinas in fantasy. Everybody cheers, it looks amazing, the music is swelling, our heroes on the battlefield realize they haven’t been forsaken by their friends, etc. In Lord of the Rings, yes, Theoden could have arrived 30 minutes earlier and saved even more lives, but we already knew he was on his way moving as fast as he could without exhausting his horses. Theoden’s army also took care of the bulk of the battle so when Aragorn arrives with the second surprise reinforcements, it’s less a decisive blow that comes out of nowhere and more the victory lap.

In “Battle of the Bastards,” Game of Thrones has its third surprise cavalry charge of the series, only this one much more explicitly comes to save the day. The difference between this scene and Theoden’s charge is: Audiences had no idea Littlefinger was on his way, and neither did Jon Snow. Had Sansa told him she had a plan, Jon could have waited. He wasn’t backed against a wall and forced to fight right then and there, he could have stalled an extra hour by just not showing up to the battlefield to wait for his cavalry. With Sansa inexplicably not telling him, she risked his life and the lives of his entire army because the hand of the writers wanted to keep it a surprise. Worst of all, when the battle is over, he compliments her decision, despite all the blood on her hands.

Surprise reinforcements, saviors, powers, and abilities always run the risk of “why didn’t they do that earlier” and you should be asking yourself the same question. If you can’t come up with an explanation other than “because it’ll look cool” go back to the drawing board.

Or, have your very own characters pissed that the savior didn’t just do that earlier. Have your characters ask where this special power was, have it mean something to them and the story at large. Had Jon been angry with Sansa, given their incredibly pyrrhic victory and the potentially avoidable death of their youngest brother, it might’ve made for some interesting character drama.

Give your saving graces deadly costs

“Why didn’t they just do X earlier?”

“Because doing X would have killed Character D, dummy.”

Giving your super special magic, mutant, super, or supernatural powers costs, drawbacks, and limitations forces the characters who use them to not resort to them every single chance they get. Their magic drains their physical stamina, or the demon they made a deal with camping in their brain threatens to overtake their psyche, or the sword is cursed and every time the hero raises it in battle, they lose a little piece of themselves. Or, using this creepy power strains their relationship with their friends or community.

Without risk and consequences, you cannot avoid “why didn’t they do that earlier,” because the only answer you have to give is “because I, the author, said so.” The only time a character is allowed to have selective amnesia about their superpowers is if it’s been established beforehand as a potential problem. Then it’s not “this came out of nowhere.” Then your audience is dreading the entire time waiting for that chekhov’s gun to fire.

Don’t compromise your story for sensationalism

I can complain about ~subverting expectations~ in another post, but what I mean here is this: Are you writing this scene purely for shock value, for the sake of a twist, because a story this grim demands at least one character death, or because it’s going to look epic?

In this post about pacing and this post about how to write tone, I talked about making your scenes pull double duty. You can write a scene for shock and awe, but if it’s at the expense of a character’s integrity or intelligence, come up with another way to make it spectacular.

You want the villain to monologue to give the heroes time to save the world? Then write a villain with an ego and personality that would monologue. You want the hero to be a one-man-army? Then write their personality as the lone wolf type and have it be a flaw of theirs that they keep striking out alone, consequences be damned.

You absolutely need the hero to not take the easy road and fight the bad guy without using their most effective weapon? Give them a reason to stall this fight. Maybe they really do need to simply run out a clock, or they don’t actually want to kill/subdue their opponent, or in doing so, the villain’s death is what causes the Bad Thing to happen.

If I write a character that can kill with just a look, every time I put them in a dangerous situation I need to then justify why they don’t do that over and over again, unless it’s by their own stubborn integrity that they choose not to.

If I write a villainous plan so devious and well thought out, the only thing standing in the way is living protagonists? I need a reason the villain doesn’t just murder the heroes every chance they get. Maybe they’re internally struggling over actually going through with it, or their ego demands the hero doesn’t get a quick or honorless death, or they do actually need a living hero for the plan to work.

Fixing Plot Holes in Sequels

All of the above is advice for issues within the same manuscript. What happens if you���ve already published and have the chance to address a known plot hole in the sequel?

About the worst thing you can do is slap in a throwaway line or hasty explanation to cover your ass. Everyone reading and watching will notice. Saying nothing is better than saying that.

See the duct-tape in Rise of Skywalker when the heroes explained that they couldn't just hypersspace-jump another ship into the enemy fleet because it worked so horribly effectively last time. Doesn't matter that they could have put it on autopilot or sacrificed a droid, or that, at any point in the history of Star Wars, someone else could have and should have done this desperate maneuver. For the sake of "looking cool" it opened an entire sinkhole.

Less a “hole” and more an inconsistency — the pegasus Blackjack in Percy Jackson is explicitly a mare, a female horse, in one book, and then inexplicably male in later books. Why? Well the author made a mistake, simple as that. He did *not* attempt to explain this error away or dig the hole deeper. It just is. Though I’m not sure why Blackjack couldn’t just stay a mare and how he didn’t reference the previous book when writing the sequel is a bit baffling.

If your heroes can no longer use the Deus Ex Machina they used before – have them attempt to use it, and then come up with a solid reason why it’s not possible. Maybe it was one-time use, or the savior simply doesn’t want to, or the cost/risk is too high to attempt it again, or it simply can’t be found and it’s very frustrating.

Have the heroes be morally opposed to doing what they did before, or overconfident, or skeptical that it will even work again only for that choice to bite them in the ass later. Have the magic item all used up, the recipe to recreate it lost to history. There’s a hundred better excuses than the hand of the author simply saying so.

—

If you aren’t going to write a sequel and you accept living with the plot hole unfilled… chances are people are going to love the story despite its flaws. Harry Potter is the poster child of “why didn’t they use X spell to solve the problem” or “they have a spell for X, yet they don’t have a spell for Y?” and how many people love that story?

In the end, a plot hole can be tiny or massive and chances are the story you told is entertaining enough to make up for it. It’s just a story, it’s just fiction. Learn from your mistakes so the next piece you create is even better.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #plot holes #magic system

[ressonancee]

WESTERN WIND

Vernon is on the verge of freaking out - Vernon is chill, Vernon is calm, but everyone has a limit, and Vernon's limit is when he complains 3 consecutive weeks about his front wing and the engineering team doesn't do a thing about it.

✦ genre: F1 Alternative Universe, almost enemiers to lovers (but really just have a fight in the workplace now we are weird), smut, they do it without protection so - be safe guys love you.

✦ word count: 8.9k+ ✦ title inspired by Carly Rae Jepsen - Western wind

✦ Thea note: okay, this was a challenge!! This was written for a friend who enjoys the f1 world and isn't a carat - but we are working on it. I write for me and I write what i like to read and to me, Vernon screams lazy sex so that's that - that's really nothing more on this subject. reminder 1: i am not an english speaker so i am very sorry about any mistake but you don't need to be a bitch about it. Also, I may try to write every member but gooooood some are harder than others, and vernon was hard for me so i am sorry if the characterization is weird or when you are reading this you think shit this is not Vernon lol I reached a point where i was like yeah i'm giving up.

Vernon has always been obsessed with the idea of flying. 

Not taking an airplane-flying, but actually flying. The closest he got to this was behind a steering wheel. And he got so obsessed with the feeling - first the wind against his face, then the whiplash of going too fast.  He loved it so much that he just made a career out of it. 

And Vernon was good at it, one of the best really, first drive in his new team and all. But it is the seventh grand prix and the car still lacking and there is so much he can do with pure strength and strategy. 

He can't fight aerodynamics. He can't, and to be honest, he shouldn't do what the engineering team was supposed to. But he is one step away from getting out of the car and breaking the damn front wing with his bare hand in the middle of the box. Vernon, a lot of people don't know, but he has this kind of superpower when he gets incredibly mad his face is still calm, and nobody knows he is on the verge of freaking out.

But Vernon just handles the steering wheel to the guy next to the car and jumps off it without making a scene. On a scale of Fernando Alonso to Kimi Raikkonen Vernon leans more to Kimi's side, even though right now he may pull off a Nico Rosberg or psychological warfare like Michael Schumacher against the engineering team, he is not above it today. 

He is no Kimi Raikkone though. Vernon does prefer just being in the car. He enjoys being on the circuit running laps. He is chill with being on the go, traveling around, jumping on airplanes, and Vernon developed a near to perfect packing method - he travels with just a backpack, thanks god. Vernon doesn't love press tours, sometimes they are just insufferable. He doesn't love to have a run down when his week has been shit - trashed car or broken really. But otherwise, Vernon is cool with it, he laughs a little, he goofs with other pilots, he has friends - sometimes he goes out with Lee Chan the Haas pilot. Sometimes he cracks jokes with Mingyu and Wonwoo - the Red Bull duo. So sometimes press is actually fun, and even tho Vernon is an accomplished guy in his field pole and race win on his name he also still has idols on the paddocks because he is against names like Choi Seungcheol and Hong Joshua.

So Vernon enjoys his life really, he isn't one to overthinking about what choosing this type of life made him lose. He gained so much that it would be unfair to do that, to wonder what it could be.

But when Vernon feels like his team is not even hearing his complaint about how the aerodynamics of the car is fucked up Vernon wants to just crash the car and scream in the box. What the fuck? Fix the gooddamn wing for fuck's sake. 

But Vernon doesn't scream in the middle of the box, it wouldn't be good for the press, and Vernon is calm he is chill, but he isn't dumb. He does this when the engineering team, himself, and Choi Minho, his team principal, are in a more private area.

"What the hell? I've been complaining about the front wing since the Australia GP."

"We have been working on the wing." The engineering girl slash prodigy answers.

"And why the fuck is not working properly? This car will fly out of the track if a single drop of rain falls." Vernon continues because he is the one putting his life on the line really. Why no one is giving a fuck about what he has been saying.

"We are trying, you know about regulations we cant-" You try to say as if everybody doesn't remember that FIA is actually the worst ever and it is your job to care about regulations too.

"Oh my fucking God. I gonna crash this car in the first fucking lap I am not even kidding." Vernon says pacing around the table, he hates the whole can't do won't do FIA-related frustration. 

"Ok, Vernon you know we can't really do anything about it right now," Minho says arms crossed. "So stop bitching about it, and no you will not crash my car in the first lap you are not stupid." And now Vernon knows he can't really crash his car but he feels the urge to do it nonetheless, Minho can scrap his bank account he doesn't care, he can go fucking penny less but he will have his front wing fixed up.

 "You," Minho says pointing at you and you are actually relieved, you can take the screams of the team principal - even tho Minho is not near screaming, but taking shit from the pilot? Not gonna happen "For fuck sake take his complaint and actually do something about it for the next GP, you have like 5 people that could have been working for NASA in the team if he complains again about this mothefucker wing again I gonna have a stroke," he says leaving the room.

"Why do you guys only act when I bring Choi Minho to the room?" Vernon asks feeling dumb and to be honest disrespected. He knows he is young, he knows he is new, but he was brought to the team for a reason.

"Not that it matters," You say already picking the things around the table, probably from a previous meeting. "But he is my boss, not you Vernon."

"I am the one inside the car," Vernon says trying to attain some kind of respect or authority.

"Ok, that's not relevant to me whatsoever. I work designing a car that if we put a dog behind the wheel is gonna be fast so-" You say because you are tired this front wing nightmare has been going on for more than the australia grand prix actually, it's always the same problem, again and again, your team fixes it but it always comes back to life like a zombie or something.

"Did you just say that I am not relevant? Are you kidding me?" Vernon actually scoffs because of course he knew when he arrived in Mercedes that the team is bigger than him, he knew what all the critics said, but being treated that poorly by a co-worker? Fucked up man.

"That's not what I meant-"

"Yeah yeah yeah like Im just a dumb kid on the wheel, that's what you meant. I really thought we could build a nice relationship and all-" Vernon cuts you already opening up his overall because it is hot as fuck, like one step away from dying hot. "I guess the civil war thing going on wasn't in my plans but if you guys on the engineering want that I have no problem whatsoever in being a fucking dick."

Vernon says almost dashing to his trailer, fucking stupid overalls dangling around his waist because if one of the journalists asks him something about his wing or his time or how Kim Mingyu got the pole, Choi Minho is not the only one who will have a stroke. Health care plans and his life insurance will skyrocket.

After Vernon takes a shower, he realizes how dumb and idiotic he is. This happens a lot. Vernon doesn't really know how to deal with his rage, so when the anger dissipates, he just ends up regretting everything. 

Regretting is not even close to the proper word. When Vernon analyzes the chances of him fucking up his entire year because you simply do not rage war on your engineering team - that was like a rule, not a rule scratch that, it was a dogma. A rule you can break, if you try that shit on a dogma, you will root in hell. The hell being Vernon's worst nightmare - having the team ask him to pull aside to the other driver because he can't keep up, the reason? His shitty ass front wing.

But when the actual race comes and Vernon starts the race in third and finishes up in 5th place, he doesn't know who will drop dead first, him or Choi Minho. 

"Do we need a meeting between grand prix to fix this hellhole you guys have been calling a car?" His boss asks and Vernon can see you just rolling your eyes. Dude, that's crazy. Did you just roll your eyes to Choi Minho? That was insane. 

And Vernon coped the only way he knew - developing a wealth obsession fueled by hatred, all because you didn't give him his wing and a roll of your eyes at Choi Minho.

Before that, Vernon really didn't have a problem with you. Since he moved to Mercedes everything was great! Great team! New and more powerful car! Great teammate - Lee Jihoon, who actually took Vernon under his wing. The pre-season was great, and he didn't have problems with you whenever you two had to talk about the development stage of the car. 

Actually, Vernon finds you interesting really, that's not a lot of women in F1, and the majority of the women actually deal with public relations or team management like Kwon Boa. He always saw you around, really, always in jeans, tennis, and a Mercedes shirt. Sometimes with glasses, sometimes with a cap on. Always chatting with someone, sometimes writing things down on a notebook, sometimes explaining something. 

He didn't actually have any problems with you. He didn't have a reason, but now? Now Vernon can't really back off, can he? God, he was not a fighter and neither a hater, but he wasn't a coward either. 

So when his one-week break is cut short and people send him to Northamptonshire Vernon is angry because really: 1st he could use a few days off, 2nd between the Emilia-Romagna and the Monaco GP he had booked a crazy Airbnb in Cannes.

Now he was stuck in this hell hole of a place, in a way too cold meeting room, with like the whole engineering team and his boss. Not ideal. So Vernon's mind just wonders really, he thinks about how he needs to catch up on his favorite TV show, maybe he can check on his family later, or call his friend Boo Seungkwan - maybe he would call Seungkwan to Monaco is bouge enough for Seungkwan.

“And that's why we try to fix the front wing, but it seems like the aerodynamic problem is always back. Lee Seokmin actually did design another front wing at the start of the pre-season but you guys said that this one had a better grip” You finish the whole ppt-presentation, sometimes you hated your job so much, and by sometimes you meant the whole ppt presentation of a problem that we can`t actually fix because of regulations and because you guys main driver didn't do proper feedback in the first place. And now you have a problem in your hands, that to begin with, it wasn't even yours. 

“So the best thing we can do is?” Choi Minho asks and you laugh because right now you are not the one treating Vernon like a damn child on the wheel, it is Choi Minho, but Vernon is too engrossed in his own mind to notice or he feigns ignorance because it is Choi Minho who is talking, not you the mere translator girl for the engineering team. 

“We can try always the wet tire even if it's just light, and we can always use the soft tire at the beginning of the race it is the less durable but if he is in a good position to start with we can always call him back-”

“So, we did this three-hour meeting” Vernon actually checked his watch. It was a tree hour meeting for god`s sake. “for the resolution being soft tire and pray for a good pit stop? Are we crazy?”

“If you heard about FIA rules we cannot-” You try to speak but really, you don't even know why you start when you know you gonna be ignored by the man in the room and it’s F1 there is always a man in the room, always.

“Ok ok,” Vernon interrupts. “Just so you know that’s crazy, everything about this wing situation is crazy, we are just handling the championship, we are not even close to being - I don't know? 5th fucking place.” 

“We need to make the legal team re-analyze the rules,” Minho says contemplative and not really angry, and to be honest you wouldn't be either because it is true, but Vernon could be less bitch about it because it is not your fault either

“Just that? Ok,” Vernon says and he gets up because when Minho talks about the legal team it`s gonna take 4 to 6 days to actually find a loophole in the damn manual, but hey ok, it's fine, Vernon it’s chill, but not chill enough because the next moment his mouth is moving. “Maybe you could ask for the engineering team to work on that too I don't know just a thought” 

And you laugh, loud and clear. And Vernon is truly spooked. What the heck? Are you going crazy? Has the excruciating work and the insane hours with the weekly jetlag made you crazy? 

“Yeah Minho,” you say, picking up the papers. Why do you always pick up? Are they top-secret papers? Vernon never thought about corporate espionage, but it may be a thing. “Maybe you can ask your drivers for proper feedback when I ask them about grip and wings and start making them say whole sentences, not it's bad and a sad emoji. If we did send a form about this shit we wouldn't have this problem,” You actually leave them room, but Minho and Vernon continue listening to your voice down the hall. “Oh Vernon, how it’s going with the car. Make them say 4 whole sentences and not it's chill. Maybe that would help” and then you scream. “Just a thought."

“I mean” Choi Minho starts getting up too. “Nothing against a rivalry in the workplace, dang in my times, it was worse. But if I get an actual complaint - Humans Resources or Legal Team involved - I am so firing both of you, and I am not even caring about labor law or whatever.” 

And Vernon thinks it's weird how he was the first one to get up and the last one out of the meeting room.

So when Vernon actually arrives in Monaco - Boo Seungkwan, his best friend since birth, on his side, the civil war in his team is still going on at full speed. The tire strategy is still in place. Choi Minho still looks at him every five minutes like a babysitter. You still give a side eye every time you both share a room, Vernon is even more aware that you roll your eyes at everyone. Are you just discontent with everything?

But he doesn't think so when he sees you and Jeonghan, the team strategy, and Jun, one of the mechanics, laughing while eating lunch. Vernon is puzzled really why the fuck is he, Choi Minho, and the whole team getting side eyes and Jeonghan and Jun receiving beautiful smiles and even laughs? That's weird, more than weird, that's unfair really.

"What's going on in your head?" Boo Seungkwan asks, actually stealing a bite of Vernon chicken's breast. 

"Just, you know the whole war in the team. That's the girl that is actually making my life hell." Vernon says voice low like he is telling Seungkwan a secret, trying to be discreet. 

"That one?" Seungkwan asks loud and not caring about the top secret war going on, apparently. "Oh, Vernon, she is pretty."

"And?" Vernon thinks puzzled because really he never stopped to think about it. "Ok, ok, stop looking," Vernon says when he sees Jeonghan looking back at his table, grabbing Seungkwan and almost getting up and turning Seungkwan`s head himself. God.

"You didn't tell me she was pretty." Seungkwan acts like it was the most important thing ever. Missing the point, really, because the most important thing ever in this whole ordeal was Vernon's career and the probability of it ending abruptly. 

"Yeah, because it is not important, I mean…" Vernon trails off because again, he never stopped really, but thinking about you are pretty. Or at least not recently. Vernon thinks back when you two met in the pre-season and he may have blushed once or twice talking to you in the first days, but he wouldn't call it a crush.

"Hey Vernon," Jeonghan says, stopping at his side. "We will go over the strategy at 3 pm for the first free practice, so if you need anything, just give us a heads up before."

"Oh, sure man, actually I was thinking about the ty-" Vernon starts.

"Bye guys, if I hear one more driver talking about how they don’t want to start with a soft tire today, I'm gonna jump the nearest cliff." You say, lacing arms with Jun and just dragging him.

"Oh, she is feisty today," Jeonghan laughs. "Okay, anyway, you can bring everything to the team, right? I need to actually get some information with her so-" 

"Sure, sure man, no big." 

“Yeah," Boo Seungkwan just laughs, and laughs, he actually almost falls backward type of laughing “When was the last time you got laid?"

"Hm?" Out of nowhere? What the heck was going on in his friend’s mind? But Vernon actually needs time to think about it, fuck, when was the last time? Vernon didn’t even remember with whom. "I don't know a few weeks?"

"Months right?" Seungkwan answered in a heartbeat, chewing on a long French fries.

"Maybe dude, you know it is hard when I am always on the go." And it was hard, Vernon wasn’t lying. He didn’t enjoy the whole no-string attached really, and after he got a little famous - in a very niche type of famous he knew that, he was no rockstar type of guy, but still, he enjoyed it even less.

"Yeah didn't peg you for doing in the workplace kind of guy, always talking about how it is precious and nothing can disturb the paddock’s energy,” Seungkwan says making Vernon almost choke on his food.

“First, that is the rule that applies when you want to bring your boyfriend Kwon Soonyoung because last time he almost broke my trophy,” Vernon can actually feel the chill going through his body just remembering the scene that his traumatized brain conjures up, it was his first grand prix win and Seungkwan boyfriend almost knocked it down. “second we are not doing anything. We are actually enemies” 

“Oh,” Seungkwan stops, truly stops, dropping his fork and knife, and he stares at Vernon, but Vernon knows it is not a stare, Seungkwan is analyzing Vernon like he always did. “Well, that's even worse, because when it happens - see not if, I said when it's going to be a nuclear bomb, thanks good I am not going to Spain with you and me and my lovely boyfriend will be having a few days off in Monaco so…” 

The problem was that Seungkwan was always annoyingly right. Seungkwan was right when he said Vernon's last relationship wouldn't last more than 3 months. Seungkwan was also right about Vernon's first love and second. Seungkwan had this superpower really, Seungkwan was always there to see the picture better before Vernon did.

But Vernon always just shrugged and went to his next task, now free practice. And Vernon did slightly better than he thought - 4th place. So he wasn't actually totally dejected after the press asked him about the probability of rain. Everything was fine until Vernon saw the little orange cat hiding in the corner of the Mercedes trailer.

Vernon squatted and tried to call the little kitten really, it was tiny and made Vernon's heart break a little because when the cat was approaching him Vernon saw how he was limping, front paw looking hurt. Also, the little dude looked muddy. He may hate Vernon for it, but he needed a good wash.

"Hey," You say looking at Vernon who just started stroking the orange cat fur. "I was just-" You point at the water container.

"Ah yeah," Vernon says, giving you a nod. "I was thinking of finding something so this little guy can eat but-"

"We don't know anything around, same." You say squatting on Vernon's side and putting the container on the ground, little dude giving you both a meow.

"Could we-" Vernon starts but you just cut him.

"Make a trainee do the hard work? Make them go to the nearest supermarket, " you say, laughing a little, like you laugh with others. And Vernon thinks that maybe your brain is too fast, two-step forwards already, ahead of everyone, always.

"Yeah, I was thinking about asking someone or even the Grand Prix organizers to even get a vet around. I think something is wrong with his paw." Vernon points at the cat, and he stops for a minute thinking about how he is so used to being in the paddock but not really knowing his way around it. He strokes the cat again, almost feeling the urge to pick him up and go around asking if anyone knows a vet.

"You shouldn't be touching him." You say and Vernon feels a little offended. Did you enjoy telling him what to do? Vernon could take it, he didn't like it, but when it was about the race he could take it, but about a cat? Really? "Like, for health reasons." 

"Yeah, I was thinking about taking him to the trailer, but if he has fleas, that would be a nightmare," Vernon says hand still scratching the little cat like the rebel he was. 

"Can you-" You trail off, looking around, and Vernon can almost see your brain working inside your skull.

"What?"

"Look, we have like two options.” You say getting up and fixing your pants. And Vernon thinks that Seungkwan was actually right shit, you are actually and objectively pretty. “You can be an asshole and make someone do the job just because you are throwing a i am a star fit"

"Or?"

"You could totally do your I am a heartthrob bit on the communication team newbie, she kinda has a crush on you, so she would totally find Seb a vet place. Just don't let Minghao know.” Vernon just feels like a lot of what you just said goes over his head because it really doesn’t make sense to him, Heartthrob what? Crush who? Seb? 

"Are we calling him Seb?"

"I mean he just gives me Sebastian Vettel energy all around you know, he is kind of shy and orange," you say trying not to sound dumb, feeling a little anxious - because Vernon always made you feel this way, an uneasy feeling paired with his low voice.

"Yeah, I can see that” and Vernon smiles, dude the cat really looks like Sebastian. God - in that exact moment Vernon knows that his life is fucked up, he is picking a stray cat when the next 3 weeks he will be jumping from airplane to airplane. But look at him, Vernon can't leave Seb in a freaking paddock, in the end of the week everything will be gone.

"So? Which one? I'm pretty sure we can try just telling Minho you went rogue as the third option but…"

"The heartthrob one just-" Vernon can feel his forehead itch and the beginning of a headache. He can't do a heartthrob bit. What is he talking about? "Just show me the way."

"I need your keys," you say to Vernon, hand open in his direction "First we need a box and a towel. We can't let little Seb on the loose."

"He is a little difficult, though. Pretty sure he won't stay in the box," Vernon tells you already giving you his key.

"I think I can steal a few eggs for him on the way. If they are boiled, it won't be a problem. He seems hungry enough."

And Vernon actually plays with Seb until you arrive, a box filled with Vernon's towel - probably the one he used this morning, and a plastic plate full of eggs. And then you are already dragging Vernon around to the second task - the heartthrob bit. And Vernon thinks about how quick on your feet you are - figuratively, and literally, you walk really fast. Later, you tell him that is a job thing, not a you thing. Apparently to be an F1 engineer you need to think fast, walk quickly, and solve everyone's problems.

Vernon did the heartthrob bit - it actually ended up with the newbie taking Seb to the vet, you gave her a to-do list (1 - check his paw, 2 - check for fleas, 3 - don't forget the shots!!!) and Vernon's credit card. But Vernon still with a weird taste in his mouth. How did you know the newbie had a crush on him? That's totally weird.

But hey the trainee actually found a vet, and she brings Seb back with shots and a bath. And now Vernon is staring at his cat, thinking about how if he needs to call the hotel to check about the animal policy, maybe he could do the heartthrob bit to the hotel manager. Or he could leave Seb unattended, he could eat something, chew his race boot, or - then Vernon hears a knock, which is weird of course because Vernon doesn't actually receive visits in the motor home, people know that Vernon is sensitive about that - no fans, no press, no knocking when he is in the motorhome.

"Hi," you say as soon as Vernon opens his door, "just came to see the little guy."

"Oh, yeah sure," of course it was you, the only person who doesn't actually care about Vernon’s word and maybe well-being, but Vernon kind of understands, Seb is cute, "he looks tired tho."

"It's okay, I just came to give him some love." You say one digit going between Seb’s ear, squatting on the floor, letting Seb chill in his place, "Are you going to the hotel?" 

"I don't know,” Vernon scratches his kneck because it is true, he doesn’t actually have any idea what he is about to do, maybe he can take his race boots and everything essential so Seb doesn't chew on it, "I need to go but I can’t leave him alone but also I can’t sleep on the couch, it will fuck up my neck and also can’t just not sleep."

"You can go, I can sleep here on the bed, not a problem." You say sitting on the floor, Seb little groggy but wake, you pick him up and put him on your lap, and he just purr. What the hell? His cat is purring? For another person? What?

"I can’t let you do that,” he can’t because his cat is already in love and because he also knows that his motorhome bed is just uncomfortable. 

"Don’t worry, we are just-" you say finally looking at Vernon’s eyes, "co-parenting" You say and Vernon feels like a bomb just dropped, and the whole humanity just vanished, he can hear a pin drop.

"Co-pareting? A cat?" Vernon says like his brain is not really functioning.

"Yeah Vernon,” You start, and Vernon can see a small smile across your face, “people have different family arrangements. You, me, and Seb, divorced people with a kid, it's okay." 

"Divorced?" Vernon actually lets out a laugh, a scoff really. Why are you trying to mess with him ? This is not even close to normal.

"Yeah we are not on great terms but we sacrifice for him."

Vernon leaves - not because you said he could, not because you found a solution, but because it was the right thing to do for his performance really. Vernon leaves because his neck is a prized possession, and because he needs to sleep , he needs his best reaction time. And Vernon is an athlete. People may say that driving a car is not a sport, but people don’t know how much the g-force makes his neck almost break. But when Vernon lays in bed with his special pillow, Vernon can’t actually sleep. His mind goes back to his motorhome, to his just-for-stretching bed, and never actually sleeps. His mind, Vernon finds out, is going back to you sleeping in that awful bad, to the way you treat the little cat like it can break, and the way that every time your hand goes against the cat's fur Venon can actually feel the love.

Vernon is so fucked.

He starts to think that Seungkwan is actually right.

And Vernon can't actually sleep because you are tormenting his mind and Seungkwan's voice telling him 'I told you so' echoes in his mind.

Even tho not getting the eight-hour sleep Vernon gets what his system needs to be quick on his reactions -  Wonwoo and Seungcheol actually crash in front of him, debris over his head and Vernon has control enough to just not crash in the crash in the narrows streets of Monaco. Nightmare, really. Vernon finishes in third because of it, and even tho he is in the podium, he can't actually feel happy about it.

Maybe that's really why Vernon can't have his car with a fucked up wing because it can mean life and death. Later that day he makes sure to go check with both drivers - halo is ugly as fuck but saves lives.

Vernon is thankful that he doesn't have time to actually think about life and death because you are shoving him into a funny bag and telling him to put Seb inside and telling him that you actually are about to sit next to him. So Vernon ends up with a cat bag on his lap, Seb strangely chills about everything, your hand going inside the bag just to stroke his fur.

He ends up sleeping the flight, which is only about 1h40 minutes, but Vernon feels like he needed that nap.

The perception of time in the world of F1 is really truly bizarre. Vernon is always running, always thinking about how he can go faster, even when he is doing the press talk. Minghao walks faster, and explains everything for Vernon in 3 sentences, if it is a sponsor or if it is a journalist, if he needs to actually talk about the car, or if it is a 'content' bit. 

But when Vernon is going around the paddock and see you leaning against Jeonghan smile bright and full Vernon actually stops on his track, it is late, and everything is figured out in the paddock why the hell are you and Jeonghan laughing about?

"Come on, Vern," Minghao calls him, making his neck turn. "Come on, we have three more, and if I don't arrive in time for my dinner with Mika, she is going to kill me."

So Vernon lets Minghao drag him across the paddock. But his mind is still on the scene, you leaning and smiling against Jeonghan, and Vernon doesn't want to, but he feels jealous. He wants to be Jeonghan so fucking bad.

Vernon really doesn't have much time to think about it, he needs to sleep, watch his water intake, and think about his neck - his neck is his most important body part as a f1 driver, and he did think his neck was feeling a little funny. But every time Vernon sits and has time to himself, his brain conjures the image of you and Jeonghan in his eyelid.

Vernon doesn't think it was because of his neck or because his sleep was extremely shitty but the next day, his car crashes against a brick wall. Not great. Not ideal. Not fun either. So Vernon does what he needs to do. Even if he feels fine and got out of the car on his own, he needs his trip to the hospital. Turns out a few hours later, the medical team is sure that Vernon is not dying, but he may have a concussion.

When Vernon is back in his motor home to pick Seb back to the hotel (this time he actually made sure it was okay with the hotel's policy) he founds you lying on his useless motor home bed.

"Hey," you say getting up the bed "are you okay?"

"Yeah yeah," Vernon drops his bag on the floor and sits down by your side. "Just a concussion."

"Okay," you say, looking at Vernon, like actually looking at him searching for something. "I was scared it wasn't a pretty scene, Vernon."

"I know, but I'm okay," but Vernon is so so tired, he is okay and he feels okay but he feels the urge to just lie in this horrible bed and just stay in it, he doesn’t even care about his neck really - he can call for physiotherapy or something. 

"Still, the whole team was worried, you don’t need to act like it wasn’t scary,” you say and Vernon just feels so heavy, like his whole body is made of bricks, even tho he is ok with it, he is used to it really, but the crash still takes a tool on his body "and you should have gone directly to the hotel"

"I was just picking Seb up," Vernon just lies on that horrible bed and it doesn’t really seem that bad, or he is just so tired that even lying on the floor seems like a good option now. His mind is tired too - Vernon can’t even think.

"You didn't need to do that. You could've ringed me up, you know, co-parenting,” you say, voice small, and Vernon's hazed mind almost doesn’t catch it.

"Yeah," Vernon scoffs. Really, he didn’t even think about texting you,  "I don't think I have your number"

"Oh shit," You say picking up Vernon's phone and putting it in front of his face to unlock his phone, "ok gonna save my number you need to send me Seb pics I don't think you should bring him up, we have a week off you are probably going back to England right? You should hire someone to go see him daily or-" 

Vernon just feels the urge to actually kiss you. You are just there, cat on your lap, thinking about how Vernon shouldn't bring Seb around anymore, you are so so worried about his health and if he is getting stressed, and you go on about how Vernon just needs to let him rest in his place in England even tho it would be super hard for you because you are getting used to distress, every work day you pop up in Vernon motor home to say hi to the cat - and to Vernon, it all feels like a freaking lullaby, he actually nestles himself in the bed, searching for the better position to just sleeps. 

"See," you say to Vernon when you see how dozed off he is "you never pay attention." 

"I am paying attention," Vernon answers, eyes still shut but not actually sleeping. 

"You are not. You are zoomed out," You say, lying on his side, legs dangling out of the bed.  "What were you thinking?"

"Nothing really," Vernon says because he is not really thinking about anything concrete really, his brain is all over the place.

"Vern," you actually whine, "I thought we were becoming friends parenting the same kid"

"We are becoming friends" Vernon laughs because that is weird right? “I have your phone now we are definitely friends”

"See? So tell me, what's on your mind lately?" You try again, but Vernon just hums."You seem actually stressed lately. Is Minho bothering you? I  know the results are not great, but i promise we are trying" 

"I know, I know, don't worry about that." And Vernon feels actually bad because it is the first time he can feel that you are a little guilty, no scratch that, tired? Vernon can’t really catch the feeling, but he knows that you care. 

“I am not worried about that, I care about the results but you crashed today, the med team said you may have a concussion, and I don’t know if you are just zooming out in an ok way or zooming out in a concussion-induced way.” 

“It’s not the concussion the hospital let me go, it is just, I’m just tired” Vernon feels your hand on his hair, petting him, almost like you do with Seb, and Vernon just let himself sleep feeling the affection in the way your fingers travel in his skull. 

The thing is, even when Vernon is in his house in England he doesn't really feel at home, because it is a company provided apartment, and to be fair Vernon didn't put a lot of effort in it. So in his week off Vernon tries to focus on his physical training, on his neck, on his diet, on sleeping, but every time his phone vibrates Vernon just feels giddy and excited because 80% of the time it is just you reacting to Seb's pics Vernon sent.

Vernon tries not to think about how fast you answer his messages or how sometimes you send audio snips, and Vernon doesn't feel angry - he always hated audio message god. Vernon also hated calls but one night he actually video calls you and you are already in bed but you said you wanted to say goodnight to Seb but you and Vernon spends more than an hour chatting about nothing and everything. 

When the time comes, Vernon ponders; leaving Seb behind or actually flying with the cat. So he just calls Boo Seungkwan to babysit Sebastian - the hours of flight and the jetlag would just make him stressed, even tho Vernon thinks he is the worst person ever adopting a cat to just let him stay in an empty apartment even tho Seungkwan will make sure he is eating, and Vernon actually begged 3 times to Seungkwan check Seb's litter box.

To everyone's surprise, Vernon actually gets a pole position. To be honest, even to Vernon and his team it was a surprise, too. But it was a good one. You congratulated him, and that night, you and Vernon called Seungkwan and spent like 45 minutes talking to a cat and cooing together - like parents on a holiday.

Vernon thinks it's kinda weird really - how you two fell into this dynamic of sharing a pet, and in a way, you two turned into friends too. So when Vernon is ready to get out to his car you are the last one to greet him, and Vernon is not really superstitious but he thinks he will make sure that this turns into a new team ritual.

When Vernon crosses the finish line, he feels it - the feeling that Vernon always chased in a way. When he hears the screams and laughs on his radio, he feels he can actually let go and just enjoy. He did. He won a grand prix again.

And when Vernon is showered with champagne, hears his national anthem, and jumps to the crowd he thinks about you. He tries to find you really but Minghao just directs him to the press area.

“Hey,” you say, popping your head in the door crack after knocking on his door. “Heard you were looking for me.”

“Yeah yeah.” And Vernon feels sticky. His whole body is covered in champagne. He is looking like a mess, but god, he is so so happy. “Didn’t see you in the celebration.” 

“I was around. Saw everything, don't worry" You move and close the door acting like you guys didn't accomplish the best thing in the whole world because that's how Vernon feels like he is on top of the world. 

“No no-” Vernon's smile is so big, and he touches your arms, and he actually stops, and he looks at you. “We did! We actually did it!” 

“You did it" you say almost shoving him, but Vernon's hands don't leave your arms - hot and sticky against your skin, "don't need to be humble it was a great race on your side-”

“No no no listen, we both did it. We did it together. We are sharing this," Vernon says - smile still big across his face, he is so sweaty why do you think that seeing Vernon happy is the best thing ever? “Come on, say it”

“We did it” You say smiling, not even because you are happy with his win - you are, you are happy for the team, and you are happy for Vernon, but Vernon is so happy and in a way is so infectious you just can not smile like him.

“We sure did,” and Vernon hugs you, head dropping on your shoulder, “god-”

“What?"

“You smell nice," Vernon says voice muffled.

“Thank you, you smell like really nice champagne," you say with a laugh, god Vernon is so happy, and there is only one thing that would make him happier -

"And-” He tries to master his courage to say, “and I wish I could kiss you.”

When Vernon kisses you, he almost feels the breeze, almost feeling the physical sensations that involve flying, because, in his head, he is already 10 thousand feet high. He feels so out of it that Vernon just let you take what you want for him. God, you want so much. 

Vernon can feel it. He feels in the way your fingers hold his jaw. He feels in the way your mouth goes together, like two pieces made to fit each other. He feels in the way that you react when his hands hold your hips so tightly, whimpering in his mouth.

Vernon is not one to complain about speed, but when his whole world is spinning and everything is going so fucking fast he wishes he could stop the time, make it go backward, make it go slower. 

His whole life, he fought against the clock. If he was two seconds faster if he didn't waste milliseconds in the second curve. Vernon was always running, but now, fuck Vernon wishes he could go slow.

So Vernon chooses to take his time, not hurry. He kisses you slowly. The way that he trails his lips against your jaw is slow, and the way that his hands travel to your ribcage is slow.

"Vernon," you try to call his attention, to make him hurry, to make him speed up, but the only thing that Vernon gives you is a non-committal noise.

And Vernon thinks you are in a fucking trailer, with a not-great bed, and he has one better - bigger and with his trusted neck pillow but everything just shatters when someone knocks on his door.

And when Vernon opens the door and sees Minghao he thinks two things: Minghao is his worst enemy really, Minghao must hate him. The second one? Vernon asks himself how many wins he needs in his career to do a contract clause saying he is never doing press again, if someone asks him to do an interview or youtube content he is allowed to change teams before the end of his contract.

Vernon goes back to everything needs to move fast behavior. You two jump on a plane, and again, Vernon has his week off - while you need to go to Austria to check everything related to the engineering team. So when Vernon arrives and Seb purrs against his leg, he films it and sends it to you. When Vernon is chilling on his bed and Seb acts like Vernon's body is his personal pillow, he films it and sends it to you. When you say you are crying because you miss the cat, Vernon calls you and says you can knock on his door anytime. 

When Vernon arrives in the paddock the first thing he does is ask Jun where you were - meeting room, you had a meeting with Jeonghan and Minho, but when Vernon knocks on the door you are alone.

"You really did it." It's the first thing you say to Vernon.

"Yeah" He shrugs. "it was a promise."

"It looks good on you," you say, sitting in front of him at the table, hand touching Vernon’s hair, feeling the urge to ruffle it. 

"So, like, my last meal was airplane food, so I was thinking about taking you to dinner," Vernon says, and you just think how it is unfair that even tho he is not conscious of it, he is doing the heartthrob thing, the lazy eyes, the small smile, the unkept hair - now blonde.

"Hm-" you try your best to not just throw your papers and forget you have an actual job just because Vernon smiled at you, "I don't know if I am free, actually Minho was talking about going over the strategy with you so-"

"Yeah? Ok, I can call him and say the airplane gave me a headache so," Vernon picks his phone up and starts typing something, "I don't know Austrian food that well but we can always go to an Italian."

"Italian, I prefer Italian," you say, chin resting on your hand and just admiring Vernon. You are pretty sure if you were a cartoon, they would draw you with heart eyes.

"Nice."

You let Vernon wine and dine you. The restaurant was nice, and it was even nicer that you and Vernon sat side by side in low light, and you can just rest your head on his shoulder because you were truly tired and because every time you did that you could actually sniff Vernon a bit, and he smells so so good. 

You guys just chat about everything, and at some point, Vernon actually unlocks his phone and just lets you browse his gallery (90% of it is Seb's pics or videos, and the other 10% were the pics you sent him about your day - a coffee, a building, anything silly that made you smile), and looking at it made your heart melt.

In a silent agreement, you just hop in Vernon's Uber and end up on his hotel bed, with Vernon on top of you. 

Vernon kisses you slowly like he has all the time in the world - and you are weak enough for him, so you don't complain, you don't hurry him. To be honest you don't want him to hurry either, you are enjoying the way Vernon is nested between your legs, the way you can feel his weight on your body, and the way that his hands feel against your neck.

The way Vernon touches you makes you feel treasured, makes your heart full, and makes you want to make him feel the same way, and you try your best.

You try when your hands travel to his biceps, squeezing it the way his hands tighten against your hips. You try when your hand goes through his hair when he kisses your neck. You try when Vernon's hands travel under your shirt and you kiss his cheeks because it's the only place you reach.

Vernon doesn't think, and he doesn't try. He just does, and he accepts what you give him.

When Vernon outright grinds on you and you whimper, Vernon accepts it. When your hands claw at his shirt, he accepts, and when he gets off, you take his shirt off and see you doing the same. Vernon thinks that maybe you gonna give him more than he can take.

You don't rush him, you let Vernon watch you, but you feel rushed, so you get up as well, mouth. chasing Vernon's while you take off your bra. 

The way Vernon holds you makes your mind spin. The way his firm body feels against yours, and how his hands feel against your back. And even though you try, Vernon still kisses you slowly.

Vernon holds you when he makes you lie on the bed, "baby lemme just-" he says, giving your hips a small kiss, and opening the button of your pants, when he takes your pants off you can feel his digits traveling against your leg and you are sure he can feel the goosebumps on your skin.

Vernon's fingers close against your ankle, and Vernon brings it against his mouth, "Vern " you try to call him, and you feel dumb enough that you just beg. And Vernon kisses you again, one hand on your chest and the other grabbing your hips.

And you think you can take slow when Vernon is on top of you, legs tangled, his lips now on your neck. Every time your hips move together Vernon hums against your skin and you wish he was naked already. But when Vernon's lips find your chest you can't really complain because you feel so lost, he takes one of your nipples in your mouth, and he gives attention to the other one too, taking your nipple between two fingers and toying with it

When Vernon releases your breast with a pop you remember to call him, "Vern please"

"What?" He says hands toying with your panty line, digits hot against your hips.

"Your pants," you say, feeling your mouth dry, body buzzing.

"Oh right," Vernon says and you already feel remorseful when Vernon detaches his body from yours. 

You try to reach Vernon with your hands, palms against his skin, on his chest, on his abs, on his thighs. Everywhere - trying to placate the lack of the feeling of his body against yours. 

When Vernon finishes getting his pants off he holds your head, hand against your nape and jaw and he kisses you, and you feel a little better thinking he suffered like you did in those milliseconds that your bodies have been apart from each other.

And Vernon did, and when he stops to look at you, to really look, tracing his thumb against your mouth and you open just enough for your tongue to lap at his digit Vernon thinks he is going crazy. 

God, you are just so pretty on his bed, hair messy, trails of his kiss against your skin. Vernon knows he is so fucking lucky, and if he could he would stop the time, he would treasure every second - he would go so fucking slow he would make the clock go backward. You, however, don't really care, you just touch Vernon, hand under his underwear giving his dick a few pumps while Vernon's hands leave an imprint on your ribcages.

Vernon helps you a little, one hand on your hips and another one lowering his underwear, his dick finally free. When Vernon looks down, he can see how red his skin is - a blush coloring his chest, he can also see how your thumb just goes smoothly against his cockhead and Vernon thinks he might go insane.

"Do you need to-" Vernon asks while trying to return the feeling, hand going to your clothed pussy, pressing against it and making you whimper.

"No, no, I am ok," You say, almost in a way to make Vernon hurry up, "You can just fuck me."

"Yeah yeah ok," Vernon says, and you can feel the way his dicks enters you while Vernon's tongue lick his lips.

Vernon fucks you slowly, body pressed against yours, one of his hands holding your head - almost pressing you against his, his lips never leaving your cheek. And it is almost excruciating - the way Vernon fucks you, so slowly and yet so fucking good.

You try to tell him in the way your hands hold his neck, the way you feel his shoulder blades under your hands, the way you want to touch the expanses of his back. 

It's good, and you could live like that - in Vernon's warm embrace. But you are feeling desperate enough so you just beg, "Vern, faster", and not a second late Vernon is fucking you harder. He picks himself up, knees on the bed, holding your legs on the side of his waist. And god he hits you so deep, you just need a little more.

"Fuck you are so hot," Vernon says almost there when he sees your hand toying with your clit.

"I am so close," You say to him and you can feel how his hands tighten against your thighs, how he picks up his pace, how he fucks you harder.

And then it washes over you, and it hits Vernon - because of the way he continues to fuck you after it, but then you can feel his body against yours, his mouth chasing yours, and you just laugh between kisses because yeah, Vernon is a lazy kisser, that just how he is, but goddamn you love it.

In that weekend Vernon makes a ritual of kissing you, he kisses you every time he can really, but he makes a point of stealing a kiss before the free practice - in his motorhome. He does it again before the race, he ends up in second place. He kisses you again when you jump at him saying that he is the best - and he wants to argue because he just ended in second place, but it's you so he just takes it.

When Vernon is showered, clean, and not sticky from champagne he sees you sleeping in his horrible motorhome bed, and he just can't let you - you guys have a flight to catch.

"Hey, come on let's go home, Seb is missing you," Vernon says trying to wake you up.

#t: chwe hansol #Vernon fanfic #Vernon Smut #Seventeen Fanfic #Seventeen Smut #Vernon Fic #Seventeen Fic #t: writting #t: seventeen #svt smut #choi hansol fic

[alisonwritesimagines]

New Tattoos ~Simon "Ghost" Riley Imagine~

Summary: Soap sees something new on his Liutenant. Luckily for you, you get to enjoy his new hidden tattoo.

Author’s Note: Still in love with Ghost. Also I finished the rest on my phone so if there’s any mistakes or anything like that, just ignore it.

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings:

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

Everyone knew that Ghost had a set of tattoos on his forearm. It was something that couldn't be missed whenever he wore a short sleeve shirt or when his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His tattoos had a meaning to him.

Then came when you both married and had kids. Ghost didn't like to wear his wedding band during duty. But he did wanted to keep you and your kids close to him in some way or another.

So imagine Soap's surprise when he saw something on Ghost's chest where his heart would be.

"What's that Lt?" Soap asked Ghost as he watched his lieutenant put on a new shirt.

They had just finished a mission and had to get fixed and cleaned up before they could head back home. Even then, your children complained whenever Ghost came home, smelling "yucky." So Ghost made sure to get cleaned up before coming back home on every mission.

"What's what?" Ghost asked him.

"Get a new tattoo?" Soap asked him.

"Maybe."

"Of what?"

"Why would you want to know?" Ghost asked.

"Just curious."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Yes but satisfaction brought it back. Come on Lt. I wanna know," Soap said.

"It's nothing," Ghost said before grabbing his stuff and walking out.

Though every time his greeting from you and the kids were the same, he always treasured it. Before he stepped foot into his house, Simon always made sure to take off his mask.

"Daddy!" His kids yelled out as they ran over and jump onto him. Simon picked up his two children before giving them a kiss on the cheek.

"Where's mommy?" Simon asked the two.

"I'm coming!" You said as you walked over to him. You kissed his cheek first before his lips. "Sorry, was washing the dishes."

"It's alright. As long as you're here," Simon smiled at you.

"Come on kids. Let daddy put his things away and help me set up the table for dinner," you tell your kids.

"Okay mommy!"

"I want to stay with daddy," your daughter pouted as she held onto Simon.

"She can stay with me love. Won't be too long," Simon said before giving you a quick kiss.

After dinner and getting the kids to bed, both you and Simon were able to have your alone time. It was no doubt that Simon wanted to enjoy every inch of you when he came back from a mission. And you enjoyed every inch of him as well.

“Soap might’ve gotten a glimpse of my new tattoo,” Simon told you as you lied on his chest. Your thumb lightly rubbed against Simon’s tattoo that was etched above his heart.

“Mmm. And what did he say?”

“Barely got to see it so he asked about it.”

“I don’t understand why you don’t tell him. You’re obviously close to him.”

“I like it better when you’re the only one who can see it. And maybe the kids,” Simon told you.

A little after your daughter was born, Simon had gotten a tattoo, dedicated to the three of you. Three triangles connected to one another. A very simple design but something only you and Simon would know and something that wouldn’t be used against him in case he was ever caught during a mission.

“Good. Because I like it whenever I’m able to see it,” you tell him, kissing the tattoo.

“I know you do.”

“How much you want to bet on Soap trying to guess what it means?” You joked.

“No need to bet, pet. He’s never going to get it,” Simon told you.

“You have to let me know what he thinks it means when he does see it.”

“Alright.”

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley imagine #simon riley x reader #ghost #ghost imagine #ghost x reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #call of duty imagine #cod #cod mwii #alisonwritesimagines

[hatsunemiku-official]

ABOUT ME-KU

(+ FAQ / VOCALOID-OFFICIAL MASTERPOST)

hi! im miku and welcome to Internet! you can do lots of fun things here. like look at my blog! ok im gonna hand the mic over to the omnipotent being that watches my every move

thanks miku. here are some things to remember before you send an ask:

- I am not associated with crypton, sega, or the official miku twitter! im just a guy making funny post

- miku lives in a computer. i probably won’t answer anything referring to her doing things in the real world, since saying “I am in a computer what are you talking about” is only funny the first five times

- I use my askbox as a jumping off point for jokes! if I don’t answer your ask it’s not because I didn’t like it, I just probably couldn’t think of anything funny to respond with

- I love receiving art!!!!!!! please send me your miku art!!!!!!! you can even send me a link to your art posted on your own blog and I’ll reblog it so you still get the notes!!!! I LOVE ART!!!!!! (also the ai training toggle has been turned off for this blog so. you’re safe here.)

- there are some things you should speak to a mental health professional about ( ie “i just can’t go on” “my life is terrible” ect) and you should not send these things to hatsune miku. i understand and empathize with you but I cannot help you and it’s very upsetting to receive things like this !

- anything written in parentheses for the most part is an ooc comment from the person running this blog (that’s me!). I don’t like doing this very often though, so if you have a question that can only really be answered ooc then please ask it off anon so I can respond privately!

- please remember I am just one person and sometimes I make mistakes! im a pretty busy person and also disabled so sometimes things slip through the cracks when im low energy. I do my best though so please let me know if you think i’ve made a mistake and i’ll do my best to fix it :]

- sometimes I like to reblog miku art from other people! please be respectful in these artists notes. I know this is a silly jokes blog but these people have not necessarily signed up to be goofed at on their posts. please be kind and keep the clowning to a minimum on posts that aren’t made by me!

- no TERFS allowed. hatsune miku loves trans women

FAQ

Q: can I make a vocaloid-official blog too???

A: yes!!!! anybody can!! please let me know if you do so I can add you to the masterpost and interact with you! I would check the masterpost first though to make sure there hasn’t already been a blog made for that character :]

Q: do you also run [insert other vocaloid-official blog]?

A: no! I can barely think of funny things to say here do you really think I could manage being funny on two blogs at once. I am friends with the people who run the teto, luka and una blogs so if our posts seem coordinated it’s because I asked them really nicely

Q: who runs this account?

A: secret

Q: miku what’s your opinion on [insert queer identity]

A: I don’t like answering these because I don’t want to open myself up to shitty comments and I can’t think of anything funny to say that wouldn’t just sound like “ally twitch streamer smiling at the camera and saying trans rights”. this blog is run by a queer person and miku is whatever you want her to be, if that helps.

Q: i made a vocaloid-official blog! how do I get added to the masterpost?

A: adding people to the masterpost has gotten really overwhelming for me so I won’t be doing it anymore. sorry! feel free to still make a vocaloid-official blog and interact with me if you want, I just won’t be updating the masterpost anymore. the current list will stay up as it is as sort of like. a memento or something.

Q: do you know anything about PJSK???

A: no <3

OFFICIAL VOCALOID-OFFICIAL MASTERPOST

these are my Official Friends! go say hi to them!!

🥖 @kasaneteto-official

🐟 @megurineluka-official

🐙 @otomachi-una-official

🍷 @hanakomeiko-official

💛 @neruakita-official

🍌 @kagaminelen-official

🍊 @kagaminerin-official

🍦@kaitoshinon-offical

🐢 @ryuto-official (RESURRECTED)

💜 @vflower-official

🥕 @gumi-official

🖤 @zatsunemiku-official

🍡 @tohokuzunko-official

🩹 @fukase-official

🔌 @utatanepiko-official

🐰 @yukari-official

🩵 @ringsuzune-official

⚓️ @oliverv3-official

🌷 @nekomurairoha-official

🥢 @vocaloidcul-official

☕️ @rukoyokune-official

🥂 @meiko-offical

👑 @galaco-official

🐱 @seeu-official

🌸 @meikahime-official

🪻 @meikamikoto-official

🍆 @gakupo-official

🎀 @utanekoe-official

🌹 @sakinemeiko-official

🔪 @mayuofficial

🛰️ @moonbase-alpha-tts-official

🍺 @yowane-haku-official

🪐 @ia-official

🎹 @namineritsu-official

☁️ @tone-rion-official

🎤 @maika-official

🌈 @kawaiine-official

🍏 @macnenana-official

🌻 @dex-official

💗 @garnetvocaloid-official

💿 @yohioloid-official

🌺 @zhizidongfang-official

🤍 @kokone-official

🐸 @vocaloidrana-official

🌟 @xingchen-official

🍎 @yuki-official

🌿 @fionetheutau-official

💫 @sfa2miki-official

[swordcreature]

Rolan deserves to get pegged. Someone needs to come fuck the brat out of him.

i will take this sacrifice for us all. i will fuck the brat completely out of Rolan. you are all welcome!

but in all seriousness. i had so much fun writing this. i know this wasn't a request per se but 3,000 words later and here we are. our boy just really needed someone to fuck him with the magical strap (that we are all going to pretend is a very real thing that exists in his world. along with the magical bottle of oil/lube).

it doesn't really work anyway

i couldn't think what to name this monster so excuse the stupid title, it fits into like on tiny part but it made me laugh so. yeah.

Now I Know My ABCs

Rolan x Reader

“You could have just fixed it, you know? You don’t have to be an insufferable prick about every little mistake you notice.” “Maybe if you didn’t make so many mistakes, I wouldn’t have anything to comment on.”

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content MDNI/18+, Pegging, Anal Fingering

Word Count: 3,028 | [Read on AO3]

Okay, so, in hindsight, calling Rolan “the biggest fucking brat to ever grace the mortal realm” probably wasn’t your finest move. But gods if it wasn’t completely fucking accurate.  

All day he was wondering around the tower, nit picking the work you so graciously volunteered as you both tried to organize the mess Lorroakan left behind after his completely deserved demise.  

“Oh, this is interesting come look at this,” Rolan ushered you over to the shelf you had been working on before lunch. You walked over, brow furrowed as you looked at the tomes he pointed to: a copy of Illusionary Arcana: A Complete Study and Illusion: A Spellcaster’s Guide to the Unreal. “I had no idea the Common language had changed recently, did you?” 

“Here we fucking go.” 

“Surely that must have been the case, otherwise this book would have been placed before Illusionary Arcana, yes?” You wanted to smack the disingenuous look of confusion off his smug face.  

“You could have just fixed it, you know? You don’t have to be an insufferable prick about every little mistake you notice.” You flipped the position of the books.  

“Maybe if you didn’t make so many mistakes, I wouldn’t have anything to comment on,” he offered back, facing the books with a matter-of-fact expression as though they were discussing breakfast plans or the weather.  

“Maybe, you should find someone else who is willing to put up with your contemptible drivel so-”  

“I’m surprised someone who does not know their alphabet knows what contemptible means.”  

Your hands balled into fists at your sides and your nostrils flared. You were doing this for free. It would be a cold day in the Hells before you continued to let him talk to you like that.  

Without saying a word, you turned scanning the room for where you laid your things. This caught Rolan’s attention; he eyed you over his shoulder as he continued to fiddle with the row of books. 

“What are you doing?” he asked, unphased. 

“Leaving.” This at least elicited some sort of reaction, his head whipping around to watch you grab your things.  

“Why? You said you would assist me. And we still have two more cases to go today if we are to remain on track.” His face scrunched in frustration. He couldn’t honestly expect you to just continue on as though he hadn’t just acted like a complete son of a bitch, right? 

“Are you serious- ‘Why?’ Because Rolan, today you have been-” well, you know what came next. He didn’t take it lightly. 

“I- you- you insolent little witch!  I’d rather be a brat than being a classless degenerate like you!” He took an angry step towards you. 

“Classless? You arrogant, pretentious arsehole!”  

“Indolent, mindless fool!” Then another. 

“Hateful wretch!” 

“Talentless hack!” He was so close now that you could feel his breath on your face as he stared down the length of his nose at you. It was a shame he was such a knob head, because he was so nice to look at, even from this angle.  

“You-” you paused, trying to think of the most poetic way to tell him that he could take every book in his big fancy tower and shove it right up his ass.  

But something else came to mind.  

With a scowl, you sank your hands into the front of his robes and yanked him downward, forcing his lips against your own. Much to your surprise, and delight if you wanted to be completely honest, he relented, allowing himself to be kissed with an almost bruising intensity.  

You tore your lips away. The look on Rolan’s face at the loss of contact would have made you laugh if you weren’t so fucking fed up with him. His chest was heaving as though he had just ran a mile around the tower, and the way your stomach twisted at the sight made you even more frustrated. Stupid wizard with his handsome face and pretty lips.  

You pushed him back against the nearest bookcase, hard enough that a book tumbled from its home high above you. Rolan’s eyes were fire and hunger as he glared at you, silently urging you to continue what you started. You pressed yourself flush to his chest, noses touching, lips barely a hair apart.  

He craned his neck lower to try and catch you in a kiss, but you were quicker, fueled by an intense need to see this man squirm. 

“Now now, Rolan. Where are your manners?” You chastised with a click of your tongue. “Say please.” 

He swallowed thickly and grit his teeth. The room fell silent as seconds ticked by, Rolan seemingly weighing his words.  

Just as you thought he was going to end whatever this was, too proud to continue, he muttered out, almost unintelligibly, “Please.”  

You smiled sweetly, and then you were slotting your mouth over his, kissing with as much force as before. Your hand snaked into his hair, dragging your nails roughly against his scalp, tugging at the roots. The sound he made in response was nothing short of a growl. Oh did it spur you on.  

Your free hand squeezed between your bodies to palm over the erection pinned against his thigh. Even under his robes and trousers you could tell he was hot, long, and so very hard. You pet his cock with a firm touch through several layers of clothes, Rolan forcing his hips forward in response.  

After a few tentative strokes, you removed your hand completely – pulling yourself backwards slightly so that he had nothing to grind himself against. He whined in frustration.  

“Mmm, I don’t think you deserve that yet, do you?” You pressed your lips to his ear, your tongue slipping out to follow the outer shell. Rolan shivered. “You’ve been a little brat today, Rolan. I don’t think you deserve to be touched yet.” 

For the first time since you met him, Rolan had nothing to say. His head hung low, almost hitting your shoulder as he clenched his jaw.  

“You think you’re so clever, with that sharp tongue. But I'm going to make you forget how to speak, pretty little wizard.” His breath hitched, stopped dead in his throat. “Only if you’re good, though. Okay?” Rolan nodded eagerly, eyes closed, and brow furrowed. “Okay. Now, go be a dear and take your clothes off for me, hmm?”  

Rolan fumbled forward as you stepped away from the bookcase. His hands shook as he undressed, clumsily unlacing his trousers to slide them off, along with his underclothes. You walked over to sit on the edge of his desk and watched as he pulled his robes from his shoulders. He murmured something to himself that you couldn’t quite discern, but you didn’t care enough to push. Because with everything discarded to the floor, Rolan stood completely bare, cock jutting upwards from a dark swatch of hair on his groin. It was already leaking with excitement. 

He looked up to find you staring, leering at his lithe form in appreciation. It must have been written on your face because the bastard’s lips quirked up in a smug grin. That wouldn’t do. You needed to wipe that smirk off of his face. 

You hopped off the desk’s edge and pointed towards it. Rolan eyed you with suspicion but acquiesced, moving so that he stood between you and it. Raising a hand to your mouth, you spit into your palm, eyes fixed on his. Your hand found his erection, spreading your saliva down his length in one motion.  

Rolan’s chest heaved with a moan, thrusting into your hand for more. He knew as soon as it happened that he had made a mistake; you removed your hand from him and gave him a pointed look.  

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” he whimpered. “I’ll be still, I promise.” 

You had to bite back a smile as how desperate he sounded from just a few touches. But an apology did sound good on his lips. So, you began stroking him again, fisting over his shaft with a tight grip. Rolan’s thighs shook with the exertion needed to keep himself still and little whimpers left his mouth with every pass of your hand.  

And then you stop, completely removing your hand from him. Before he could even make a sound in protest, though, you grabbed his hips and spun him in place so that his rear was pressed to your front. One hand smoothed its way up his spine, settling between his shoulder blades. And with a firm shove, you urged him to bend so that his chest lay on the cool wood of the desk.  

Your free hand circled his ass, caressing the smooth, plump skin. A sharp thwack echoed through the room as your hand lifted and then connected with his rear. Rolan yelped, jolting forward slightly, but didn’t complain – in fact you were almost positive his hips canted against the desk in a desperate grind for friction. You repeated the action again, bringing your hand down to smack him with enough force to leave a darkened handprint. Rolan’s moan was high pitched and needy as he braced himself for another smack that didn’t come. 

Both hands now groped at his cheeks spreading him so that you could see all of him – every last inch of his red skin heated in desire as he keened below you. Leaning forward, you reached around to press two fingers to his lips and Rolan accepted them greedily. His hot tongue laved over your digits, coating them in his saliva. You pulled them out with a pop to tease at his hole, the wetness of his spit making him slick enough to dip a finger in to the second knuckle.  

Gods he looked so good taking you, back arched to offer himself more fully, desperate whines slipping from his lips. You worked your finger in and out as he rocked his hips against the desk. For a moment you thought about stopping – chastising him for seeking his pleasure without your permission. But you most certainly did not have the willpower to do so as you watched him take your finger down to the last knuckle. You were only mortal after all. 

“Think you can take another?” you asked, tone sultry and low, though your question was sincere; you wanted to make sure you weren’t overstepping. He responded with an eager, shaky nod and a soft gasp. 

Mumbling a spell under your breath, a small vial of oil appeared in your palm out of thin air. You uncorked it with your teeth and, with a very disappointed whine from Rolan, removed yourself from inside him to slather some of the liquid over your fingers.  

The noise he made when you returned them to prod at his hole was nothing short of debauched – for a moment you thought he may cum right there. But he took the added stretch in stride, panting as you began to set a rhythm.  

You were satisfied with your work, the man beneath you squirming and gasping and not saying a godsdamned word.  

That is, until he turned his head to the side, peering at you from the corner of his eye to beg, “More.” 

That wouldn’t do. He was still able to form a coherent thought and that just wasn’t going to work for you.  

You slipped both fingers from his ass in one quick motion. Rolan, although quivering and breathless, looked as though he was going to object, to say something that surely would make your blood pressure rise. Your free hand tangled into his hair to force his head back down to the desk.  

“Not a word, or else I’ll leave right now,” you hissed. You had never seen Rolan behave so easily, relaxing back against the wood as he waited for you to make the next move.  

Another muted spell left your lips, the room slightly tinged with the crackle of your magic. The summoned object was heavier than you anticipated, but oh did that make it even more exciting. Commanding Rolan to keep his head down, you stepped into the harness of the conjured strap-on and pulled it up to fasten around your groin snuggly. You spilled the rest of the oil bottle over the thick base of the strap and spread it around with a loose fist.  

Rolan wiggled with impatience, still obeying your orders to keep down and not look. So, without further delay, you notched the tip against him then slid the length over his entrance. His body tensed with understanding as he rocked against you ardently, his tail wrapping around your waist to pull you closer.  

You teased his rim with the head of your strap, providing just enough pressure to have him writhing for more but not enough to actually enter him. He groaned in frustration as he tried desperately to force himself back to satisfy his need for more.  

“Oh? Is this what you want? You want me to fuck you Master Rolan?” His moan was high and keen – more pathetic than you had ever heard him before. It was music to your ears. “I didn’t hear you. What did you say?” The tip of your strap pushed into him ever so slightly more, enough to spread his entrance in preparation. Dangerously close to where he wanted you most but still so very far away.  

“Mmf- ye- ah- yes!” It seemed forming words was proving to be especially difficult for the erudite wizard. Perfect. 

And then you gave in; your hands gripped his hips as you slid the thick length of the strap into him slowly. Rolan’s head hung low, forehead pressed to the cool wood of the desk. He sighed in relief, finally feeling the fullness he craved.  

With an iron grip, you held his hips still, slowly pulling out of him. Then, without warning, you thrusted forward to sheath the strap’s entire length inside him with perhaps maybe a touch too much vigor. Rolan jolted forward by the force of it, gasping as he adjusted. You repeated the movement again. And again. And again.  

Soon, you had set a punishing pace, clothed hips smacking the back of his bare thighs as you drove as deep as he could take you. Every thrust had Rolan whimpering, words dying on his tongue before they were fully formed. It didn’t take long to find that perfect spot that had him stuffing his fist in his mouth to muffle his shouts. Oh you liked that spot. 

You weren’t gentle, overcome by an intense need to fuck him until every bratty thought was emptied from his mind through his cock. You raised your hand to roughly slap his ass where your handprint had formed from before. Rolan cried out as the pleasure of you inside him mixed with the pain from your hand.  

“I’m- ah. So-” Every syllable was cut off by a garbled sound as though he couldn’t figure out if he wanted to scream or laugh or cry. The only thing he seemed to know was that he wanted more. “Fu- yes there right there-” 

You stopped with the strap buried completely inside him. Rolan nearly screamed, the sudden lack of motion bringing tears to his eyes. He craned his neck to look at you; he was absolutely furious. You leaned over so that you could press your lips to his ear.  

“Now. Did you want to say something about how you spoke to me earlier?” Your hips caged his, keeping him from seeking his own pleasure.  

“Fuck y-” You began to pull out. “No no no, sorry- I'm sorry, I apologize. Whatever you want to hear I’ll say it.” 

While you weren’t exactly pleased that he had the mental wherewithal to form a complete sentence, you certainly preened at his desperation. “Is that it?” You pulled out even further.  

“Fuck! I was a stupid fucking brat, I’m sorry! Okay? Is that what you wanted? Will you please just-”  

He didn’t get the chance to finish as you thrusted forward as quickly as possible, immediately establishing a pace faster than before. Rolan’s legs shook as though they were ready to give out and you thought for a moment they might if not for the desk under him.  

It only took a couple deep thrusts against his most sensitive spot before he came. His orgasm was a rough avalanche of pleasure; his hips ground against the wood beneath him as his whole body seemed to tremble at the almost violent intensity of his release. You couldn’t quite understand what he was saying – or more like chanting – repeating the garbled word over and over again like he was trying to memorize the sound.  

You realized with pride that it was your name, almost unrecognizable through the fist he still bit down on.  

Your hand ghosted over the red mark on his ass – your own apology for perhaps being too rough. The conjured strap on disappeared as soon as you removed it from him, leaving behind the faint feeling of the Weave. 

Hushed sounds from the shop below you started to filter into the room, and you realized that somewhere along the way Rolan had cast a modified form of silence. The cheeky bastard. You’d definitely remember that for next time.  

It took him longer than he would ever admit to finally stand up, legs still unsteady and wobbly. Both the desk and his stomach were painted white with cum, and you had to admit, it was quite the sight. You brought a finger dangerously close to where his cock stood, still softening, and whisked a drop of his spend from his skin. Rolan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as you took the finger into your mouth to taste him.  

His voice was hoarse when he spoke, “You truly are a degenerate.” Despite his words, he was smiling.  

“And here I thought you were done being a brat?” 

“Well, maybe perhaps your little lesson didn’t have the intended effect, hm?” 

You eyed the mess on his desk with a smug smile. “Oh, I think it worked out just as intended.” 

#bg3 #bg3 smut #bg3 rolan #rolan #rolan x reader #my writing #requests/suggestions #lemonandhoneytea

[aonungstsahik]

Beauty | Ao’nung x Fem!Reader

you were a sully kid, neteyams twin sister. after you and your family got accepted you each got assigned teachers, yours was ao’nung. during lessons you easily got distracted but ao’nung likes that about you. (idk what to write)…

a/n- i skipped some parts of the movie…don’t be mad😞. also this is my first ever ff for anything! so if anyone has suggestions on to fix/work on please let me know! also request something and i might work on it!

warnings- ao’nung being himself, cussing, spellings mistakes and grammar

WC; 1,382!!

‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊

second person pov

ever since you and your family moved to the Metkayina clan, you and your siblings have been constantly harassed by ao’nung and his friends during your teaching sessions.

whenever during your lessons you been so distracted by the natural beauty of wildlife under water. almost drowning 3 times. ao’nung noticed this after your lesson where you nearly drowned, and where you two started to become friends

‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊

flashback to the first lesson

ao’nung noticed the first time when you weren’t there. you would always complain how tiring it was and you need a break. so you weren’t there, he panicked because you were far from any land. he was not about to have your death on his hands.

there he saw you giggling as fishes were swiming by you, tickling you. a small smile coming to his face when he saw you.

it went away as soon as you started to grab your throat. you were starting to drown. ao’nung swam to you as fast as he could. grabbing you by your arms helping you reach the surface.

“what were thinking!,” he shouted at you as you coughing. you still were in his arms.

“i wasn’t thinking…i was distracted by the beauty of this place…” you looked at him. waiting for another scolding, instead he just laughed at you. you started to smile, “it’s not that funny! it’s a really bad habit of mine,” you said while slightly giggling while you splashed water at him.

“oh, you wanna start that?,” he said while laughing. he as you splashed you with water as hard as he could. ao’nung started to laugh at your state, jaw opening and dripping in water.

“ao’nung!!,” you shouted at him “you’re going to fucking pay for that,” you said as you punched him in the arm. his eyes grew muttering ‘oh shit’ under his breath. he dove underwater trying to run away from you as you couldn’t swim like him.

𓆝.°

recap before present day

over the next few days and weeks, you and ao’nung would get closer and closer. he started to bully you a lot less and he even was being nicer to you siblings, aka not pulling anymore pranks or saying rude things to them.

you and him would even hang out outside lessons, just by yourself. you felt your felt yourself starting to like him but you didn’t want to be reject by ao’nung. even though your whole family was teasing you and your ‘boyfriend’.

whenever there was no one around at the beach or underwater, he would be touchy with you. rubbing his hand against yours or even putting his tail on yours while you guys sat on the beach and talked about how different each of your homes were. and every time he would touch even sightly you get all nervous and blushly, you tired hiding it every time too.

he always saw you blush and thought you were adorable. ever since the first lesson ao’nung thought you were different from everyone he has every saw. and he loved that about you. he knew he liked you and ao’nung knew from his sister, Tsireya, that you liked him too. he just waiting for the perfect day to tell you…

‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊

present day, almost two months since you came

you were swimming with ao’nung for your ‘lesson’. ao’nung started to make up lessons just to spend with you since your siblings or someone were always with you. and he just wanted you to himself.

˚𓆛your pov

i was swimming behind ao’nung as i kept getting distracted by the wildlife. whenever a fish would swim right by me i had to stop and play with it. ao’nung could always tell when i wasn’t by him and i could see him whip his head around and smile when he saw me, i would smile back giggling. he swam up to me signaling up to the surface and i nodded to him.

“i want to show you somewhere, so no more distractions okay?,” he said to me while sightly turning his head to the side rising one brow.

i nodded and wrapped two fingers, “i promise ao’nung,”

he scoffed, “thank you tìlor,” as soon as i heard that word i started to blush. i tried hiding it by diving in the water. I signaled to him to hurry up. ao’nung smiled before he dove down where i was, motioning me to follow him.

we swam for what felt like forever, it was 5 minutes. he took an area underwater that had a cave, with a place where we could breathe.

“sooo, what makes this place so special

…?,” i asked, staring up at him as sitting on ground kicking his feet in water. i was right next to him but in the water, resting my head on my arms softly kicking my feet.

he looked down at me meeting my eyes. “i come here to calm down or even be by myself. i never brought anyone else here,” i lifted my head and smiled at him. “i need you to sit up here please, i want to you right in front of me please,” ao’nung asked me. i nodded and i was trying to pull myself up, he grabbed me by my arms lifting me up.

“thank you” i whispered, i started to get nervous. wondering all the things he could have said to me. maybe today was the day i was going to let it spilt.

“y/n?” ao’nung asked bringing me out of my thoughts, i nodded. he looked down, reaching for my both of my hands to take in his. he was holding my hands so gentle almost like i was going to break because of him. “i need to tell you something really important,” he looked at my eyes. my smile started to grow almost like i knew what he was going to say.

“y/n. i..um” he started stuttering and turning red. i giggled at his state making him look up and squint his eyes at me. “y/n, i..i like you…,”

my smile grew so big showing my more of my teeth now, “ao’nung,” i said “i like you too,” i took one of my hands and put it on his face rubbing his cheek. i scooted closer to him, “can i kiss you?,” i asked.

“that’s not fair i’m meant to ask tìlor,” he pouted, “but yes,”. his little smirk was one of the things you liked about him. you leaned in kiss him but as soon as you barely touched his lips he scooted away.

“ao’nung!?,” i questioned him, tilting my head and pushing my eyebrows together.

“cmon y/n you know you gotta work harder than that,” he laughed at me, he leaned in to my ear whispering “catch me for it,” and with that he was gone in the water before i could react.

i jumped in the water after him, i saw him swimming away looking behind him to see me chasing him. the chasing probably went on for a minutes before i couldn’t hold my breathe anymore. i swam to the top, looking down trying to see him but i couldn’t. as soon as i was about to go down again i felt something wrapped their arms around my waist. i screamed and turned around ready to punch someone. but it was him, ao’nung, all smiles and giggles.

“hey,” he said looking down at me, “you know you look so cute when you pout after you don’t get your way,” he moved his hand to cup my face, i slapped his arm and he yelped.

“i think you owe me a kiss,” is all i said as my eyebrows were raised. he chuckled at me and muttered a quick ‘yeah yeah’. he pulled me into a kiss that lasted for ten seconds. after the kiss i rested my forehead against his chest trying to hide me blushing so much.

“y/n,” i looked at ao’nung, who was already looking down at me, i looked up at him and nodded. he pushed some hair out of my face and smiled. “i see you tìlor,” he said and he leaned down to kiss my forehead.

END

translation;

tìlor-beauty

#avatar2 #avatar way of water #avatar2009 #aonung #aonung x reader #avatar #x reader #first ever ff #avatar twow #avatar ao'nung #ao’nung #avatarff #fluff

[min1check]

Leto! Joker x Side Chick! Reader part 2

1033 words dw im writing the smut part and again barely proofread so im sorry if u find mistakes

pt 1

description: you work at one of joker’s clubs and he begins to take interest in you… pt 2

I got my window fixed and a new bowl thankfully. If it was just me living there at the apartment I wouldn’t care about the bowl but I was preparing for my family to come and live with me. 

But for some reason I began looking for Mr. J more and more. But he stopped coming to the club. I didn’t know why. Maybe he got tired of me?

Actually I’m stupid. That’s a good thing. He cheated on Harley…

…with me. 

That goes against all and every girl code out there. What am I doing with my life? I need to focus on school and work. 

The night I got home was when I started receiving gifts from him. Sometimes it was flowers, sometimes it was cash, sometimes it was even food. Every night I felt guilty. 

One day, Joker finally showed up to the club, with Harley. The feeling I felt so strongly in my heart was guilt. (And jealousy but i’ll never admit that) 

I placed down the drinks they usually ordered. 

“Sorry hun! Puddin wants to try something different today.” Harley spoke to me. 

I smiled back. 

“What would Mr. and Mrs. J want today?” I smiled. 

“Hmm… Doll what should I get today?” He turned to Harley.

I froze up at the nickname. I should’ve known that nickname wasn’t just for me. It was mad fucking embarrassing. It didn’t just feel embarrassing it made me feel disgusting and fucking nasty. 

I could feel my face getting red from anger and embarrassment. 

It looked like Mr. J could sense how I felt as he had the same grin on his face. It made me realize that being with him was dangerous for my mind and body. Yet there was something about him that was unexplainably alluring. 

“Oooo~ I really liked the green thing we had last time!” Harley smiled ever so sweetly. 

I went back to reality. 

“We’ll have the absinthe.” The Joker looked at me up and down with a grin. 

I’m a fool. 

“Yes I’ll get that for you right away.” I smiled and walked off. 

I’m so fucking stupid. 

“Wow, that was fast, Miss Waiter!” Harley exclaimed. 

“Thank you Mrs. J.” I tried my best to sound like I was laughing genuinely. 

Joker just grinned at me like usual. 

I couldn’t tell you about what I remembered about my shift except for that part. I got home quickly that night. On my table was a note with an address

written. 

I quickly gathered all the random presents Joker left for me and put it in a box neatly. 

It wasn’t right of me to let myself be a mistress. I needed to stop this. I couldn’t let myself catch even bigger feelings either. Why was I jealous of Harley even though he was already hers? It’s not right of me to think of such a thing. I’m not about to be a homewrecker. 

But what if he reacted badly to me saying no? He’s literally batshit crazy. He wouldn't hesitate to blow my head off. I still have a lot of things to live for. Maybe I should just stay home. 

But if he gave me this note tonight then he wants me to come tonight. Right?

So what if I had a slight smile currently? He’s hot and i like being wanted, that's all. 

I googled how far the address was and it was actually pretty close. I quickly arrived at the address. I knocked on the door and was met with a shirtless Joker. 

I touched my mouth to make sure I wasn’t drooling. 

“Hi I’m sorry but I can’t accept this Mr. J.” I said quietly while trying to avoid looking at his man tities and his ripped ass chest. 

There was no grin on his face but more like a scowl. It shook me to my very core. I was too used to his devilish grin. (It was kinda hot though…) 

“Doll you’re breaking my heart! Those gifts were just for you!” His usual grin appeared on his face again. It 

His use of the same pet name for Harley and me was repulsive. Yet it made my heart twist and turn. 

“Give these gifts to your actual girlfriend Mr.

J. I don’t want to disturb your relationship and I need to focus on school and work.” I couldn’t bear to look at him so I focused my attention on the ground. 

He put the box of gifts I held in my hands down on the floor. 

“Aww~ Are you jealous Princess? Harley is my girlfriend, yes. But you’re the only one that’s in this smalllll tinyyyy heart.” He put my hand onto his chest. 

Would he kill me if I squeezed it a bit? 

“…” I didn’t want to retort back and get my head blown off. But this whole thing we had was morally wrong. And I knew if I fell in even more love with him I could never escape those feelings. I don’t want to die. 

“Mr. J we can’t- I can’t do this. You already have a girlfriend and I need to focus on-“ 

I was cut off by him shushing me with his finger. 

“You can’t but I definitely can. Who said anyone needed to know about us, Doll?” He held me in his arms. 

“But Mr. J…” I was conflicted. 

My life or him? 

“C’mon Princess~ be with me. I’ll make sure you never worry again.” He said like he knew exactly what I was thinking. 

He kissed me…

And I kissed back. 

He’s probably done this to so many other girls but my body, heart, and mind couldn’t escape him. 

Maybe a few more days wouldn’t hurt. 

I spent the night with him. When I woke up he had already left. There was a note left next to me with his number on it. 

I felt lonely. 

My knees literally buckled with every step I took. It was really bad. I thought I was gonna fall multiple times. Thankfully I was able to get into my apartment and I slept for a little longer. Yet it felt cold without the warmth of Mr. J. 

#joker x reader #jared leto joker x reader #jared leto joker #leto joker #leto joker x reader #the joker x reader

[h-harleybaby]

I really like South Park fractured but whole, so maybe you could do Team Stan + Butters reacting to their s/o wanting to be their hero sidekick?

Ughhhhh that’s such a good request. I was like, about to say that my requests are closed but lately I’ve been in a funk and really obsessed with tfbw so NVM I’M WRITING THIS! It might get me out of that funk I was talking about, I need to write anyways. Btw this is all like, aged up to highschool at the very least. You can't tell me they wouldn't still roleplay during highschool because I know damn well they would

You can kinda tell which ones I didn't put too much effort in sorryyyy I just didn't know what to write also also also ignore any mistakes

Cartman, The Raccoon

• Cartman literally gets so excited it's funny, but if you say anything about him being excited he flips you off and tells you that you can't be his sidekick (he's lying)

• He kinda thinks of everyone on the team as his sidekicks but you're like, his special sidekick and he'll never admit it

• He loves having you as his sidekick, NOW IT'S LIKE ALL OF YOUR MISSIONS ARE DATES!

• Cartman literally throws a fit anytime he has a mission you can't go on, he wants you there SO FUCKING BAD but he'll never tell you that

• He's weirdly protective of you but it's really nice (this totally isn't based off me talking to the Cartman character ai)

• You definitely bring snacks for you guys during patrol and I swear to god his pupils are hearts I'm not even kidding

• In my opinion, patrols and stakeouts with Cartman would be the best

• Out of all of them, he's the one you do the most with. Every other night there's some sort of crazy bullshit y'all deal with

• Most of the crazy bullshit being because Cartman caused it but shhhhh we don't talk about it

• Being his sidekick is a soild 7/10, he can get a lil selfish but he's really fun

Kyle, Human Kite

• Kyle's excited but more nervous than anything, he doesn't have anything to worry about tho!

• Y'all are a pretty good duo, even though you don't normally go on missions where y'all have to fight

• You guys work more with damage control, I mean kites are pretty fragile and mans is a human kite alien so like

• Not to say he's weak, he's far from it actually! He just has pretty low health and stuff ya know?

• HOWEVER! You're a pretty good healer so it just makes sense that y'all are always near each other on the battlefield, plus sidekick so yeah

• Not only do y'all usually do damage control but also a pretty good amount of recon

• Half of the time you guys end up getting caught and have to run away so you get to be on Kyle's back as y'all are gliding the hell out of there

• Its like, surprisingly fun to be gliding. The wind in your hair and the excitement is the best

• Anyways, because y'all don't see combat too often the patrols are really calm. Sometimes even a little boring but you don't mind, neither of you are getting hurt and that's all that matters

• 9/10, it's kinda boring sometimes but it's pretty nice to be with your bf. At least y'all don't get hurt and can goof off during patrol

Stan, Toolshed

• Stan's kinda indifferent about it, he's like "cool you're joining me... why?"

• Don't get me wrong, he thinks it's cool you wanna join him! He just doesn't get it too much, isn't it gonna be boring for you?

• Well, ya know what? Now he has someone to spend sleepless nights with when he's on patrol!

• Ngl he underestimated how much he would enjoy having you by his side, he's not lonely anymore AND SOMEHOW HE DIDN'T NOTICE HOW LONELY HE WAS TILL YOU JOINED HIM

• Ahhh, imagine if you had tool themed super powers too?? Y'all share some of his dads power tools and have to awkwardly try fixing them when they somehow break during battle

• You can't tell me Stan hasn't broken them before! He literally throws screwdrivers at people and shoves power tools into the ground, they have to break at some point

• Good thing you guys somewhat know how to fix things, y'all both probably would've been dead multiple times if you didn't know how to repair the shit y'all break

• Y'all have definitely had to clean blood off the tools at the end of patrols/nights. Literally almost every time, he really has to stop throwing screwdrivers at people

• Anyways, Stan thinks you're the best sidekick ever and he loves having you around. Having you as his sidekick is really fun overall, he wouldn't trade you for literally any other

• Being his sidekick is a good 8/10, it's not the best thing to clean blood off tools at 2 am but you don't mind too much

Kenny, Mysterion

• Part of Kenny is over the moon! The other part, not so much

• He doesn't want you to get hurt while you're his sidekick so he's probably a lot more careful on his missions than he usually is

• There's definitely a lot of flirting between y'all tho, he gets SO cocky when he's Mysterion. Its one of his favorite things to get you flustered and flirt with you like, mid battle

• He doesn't die as much as he used to now that you're there so that's nice! He can't bare having you see him die tbh

• Y'all often patrol more dangerous parts of town so you guys see combat REALLY often

• I mean it's not Kenny's fault that homeless methheads and rednecks keep trying to kill you guys. It's whatever, he's good at fighting and so are you!

• You are by no means delicate, no matter how much he tries to protect you from all the battle you still end up seeing it anyways

• He kinda thinks it's hot that you're so good at fighting, he's literally like "damn bbg, you can beat my ass any day"

• Kenny never gets used to you flirting back with him, he practically short circuits. You think it's cute how he can flirt so easily but get so flustered when it's reciprocated

• In my opinion, being his sidekick is 8.5/10 because of all the fighting and flirting

Butters, Professor Chaos

• Omg Butters is ecstatic! He didn't know how you knew he was Professor Chaos but he doesn't dwell on it too much

• Now you guys can bring all the chaos your little heart desires to South Park and he's so happy about it

• First South Park, then WORLD DOMINATION!

• You're not exactly one of his henchmen and he doesn't have the heart to call you his sidekick, you're something higher than henchman?

• Does it really matter? He's gonna bring chaos to the world with you by his side and that's all that really matters in his opinion

• Every time Cartman and his hero team beat him up after foiling his plans you always end up having to patch him up which is kinda annoying but it's fun to scheme with Butters during that time

• You definitely end up being the one who reminds him of his common sense, you're kinda like his rock in a way?

• He's so glad to have you by his side, plus now that you're here his plans actually succeed sometimes!

• The younger henchman all ship you guys considering most of them don't know y'all are actually dating, it's pretty endearing

• Solid 8/10, you rarely get hurt and it's kinda painful to see Butters hurt but y'all have a good time in general

No hear me out, like I wanna pick them all up and hug them like teddy bears. They're all so cute as kids even tho Cartman would probably and most likely has committed war crimes they're my lil cutie patooties. They're literally all really close to my height but I don't care I wanna hug them like teddy bears

If anyone has any recs for places to buy like, nice plushies of them I would appreciate it <3333

#h harleybaby needs help #harley’s anons <33 #mom come get harley she’s rambling #south park x reader #south park x reader headcanons #eric cartman x reader #cartman x reader #south park x y/n #harley’s fav posts #eric cartman x y/n #kenny mcormick x reader #kenny x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick x y/n #mysterion x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle x reader #kyle broflovski x y/n #human kite x reader #stan x reader #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh x y/n #toolshed x reader #butters stotch x y/n #butters stotch x reader #butters x reader #professor chaos x reader #the fractured but whole x reader #tfbw x reader #harley’s requests!

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

flowers in the window - ep40

summary: elias pettersson x f!reader // inspired by this song! // just moments of your relationship with elias (each break has a timeskip of a few years)

warnings: mentions of drinking alcohol, reader can play the piano, fluff, i think there might be some tense mistakes at the start, panic attacks, anxiety, angst, swearing, , stress relating to teaching/work, mentions of dying alone, mentions of marriage, babies (+Quinn's fictional partner is called Kat!)

word count: 8.1k

You watched the slender fingers dance playfully over the keys, catching occasionally on the ebony, tapping out a random and entirely chaotic tune that had you trying not to smile at the attempt to pull something out of you – mostly anything to distract you from the lies Brock had fed you in order to promise your attendance, and to his efforts, it was working.

The loud chatter and bustling crowds were still on your mind, there was no doubt about that, but with your back to everything and your ‘peace-offering’ doing his best to distract you, it was starting to work. Although, it was hard to break the habit of looking at your watch every five minutes, knowing that you’d have to get out of bed early the next morning for work. In fact, it was that knowledge that made you reluctant to even attend this ‘small gathering’ in the first place, something Brock had taken in his stride and then proceeded to lie about.

Hence, the peace offering in the form of a very familiar Swede, who was a little too willing to get you to crack a smile for someone who didn’t usually do that kind of thing.

You shook your head at his obnoxious banging of keys, the sound hardly even heard over the voices behind you, and gently reached your own hands to tap his away as you played out a short snippet of something that at least sounded vaguely nicer than his nonsensical mess.

You could feel his eyes intently watching where you put your fingers, his own palms resting against the tops of his jean-clad thighs. The tune was one of the first ones you’d learnt as a kid: Für Elise, and although the notes of the piano were quieter due to the party-scene raging, you could tell Elias was still trying to commit your motions to memory, just further down on the piano.

His hands came to rest against the keys once more, head tilting back in your direction to where your own fingers were still poised over the correct keys, translating the pattern to his own hands. Back and forth, back and forth between his hands and yours, and his sheer concentration on getting his fingers in the correct place actually prompted a soft laugh from you.

Despite his focus on his hands, you saw the way the corner of his mouth quirked up at the sound, a triumphant little smile that stuck around until you began slowly playing the first couple of notes for him to copy – then it faded a little, upon the realisation that he couldn’t quite assemble his fingers and move them to the correct notes in the right order.

“Here.” You mumbled, scooching across what little space was left between you both, until your shoulders, hips and thighs were pressed together, and reached under his fingers to place your own hands.

His hands were a little cold, and almost without even intending to, your attention shot briefly to the sweating bottle of beer placed rightfully on a coaster on top of the lip to the piano, before shooting back down to your hands. His touch was delicate, as though he was half-hesitating on whether or not he should fully allow his weight to rest over the backs of your hands, and you pushed your hands a little further into the palms of his, encouraging him to place his fingers over the back of yours.

You lowered your fingers to the keys, ensuring to press slowly so the pattern would be easier to digest, and then stopped. When you tilted your head a little to gauge his reaction, his eyes were already fixed on you, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

He wasn’t even watching what you were trying to show him.

“I didn’t know you could play.” He said, lifting his hands from yours so you could remove yourself from his grip.

“I just know a few things.” You shook your head, dismissing his comment with a few melodic taps against the keys, drawing his attention from you to the piano under your hands, “How do you know I can play anyway, we can barely hear it over Brock’s racket?”

“I just…” He trailed off, his fingers tapping out what you’d shown him, before pausing. Your eyes snapped to his side profile, taking in the slight furrow of his brow and the slight part of his mouth when he got stuck on the next key.

You straightened on the bench, leaning over to move his fingers to the right keys, and, like a switch had been flicked, he seemed to relax, his fingers continuing as though he’d not had that small stumble in the first place.

“I guess it’s just blind faith.” He laughed a little under his breath, the avoidance of eye contact screaming everything he didn’t say, and you felt your face flush a little at the insinuation.

His honesty, no matter how long you’d known him or how long you’d been dating, never really failed to stun you. You weren’t sure if he knew what he was doing to you when he said things like that so effortlessly and so easily, and you felt your breath hitch a little in your chest.

No one really knew about you guys – Quinn definitely did, but that was only because he, quote, unquote: could just tell. Neither you or Elias were putting in much effort to hide your relationship, but it had slowly gotten to the point where Brock was trying to set you guys up with other people; at first it was a little amusing, but as the weeks drifted by and he still remained insistent in the matter, it became less endearing.

Though, there had been many times where Brock had done or said something that might have hinted at him knowing something. For instance, today’s ‘peace offering’ came in the form of Petey sitting by himself, his back to the party and his elbow draped across the shut lid as he drafted a text to you and it wasn’t the first time Brock had used Petey as a selling point whenever you were sceptical of going out.

You inhaled, blinking away from him, “Noted.”

He nudged you with his elbow teasingly, “Are you turning red?”

You rolled your eyes fondly, shaking your head, “Give me a song.”

“Uh,” he leant his head back slightly in thought, “do you know the Blinding Lights intro?” He quirked a brow in your direction, blue eyes staring straight into yours with a softness you’d learnt was mostly reserved for you.

You swallowed, “Yeah, I can try to…just give me a minute.” You tapped on a few keys, trying to match it to the intro you knew, vaguely aware of Elias’s intent gaze now locked on you, a far cry from the subtlety he usually reserved for you in public settings.

It was partially why you weren’t surprised when his phone buzzed on top of the piano, a message notification from Brock. He sighed audibly, you continuing to play around with the keys, and swiped the notification open, sneakily tilting his phone in your direction when he read the screen.

You pretended to keep playing, your eyes now taking in the message, before rolling your eyes with an amused smile.

Brock Canucks: When I start kicking people out it doesn’t apply to you guys

“I knew he’d regret inviting this many people.” You muttered, your attention suddenly getting stolen by a wet nose nudging your leg. Your hands flew off the piano, reaching down to show Milo some love, before hauling him up to sit on your knee.

Fifteen minutes later all three of you had migrated to the couch, all seemingly a little too tired to be actively engaged in the conversation Brock had instigated with Quinn and JT. Elias had shivered when he’d sat down, the sudden loss of the crowd sending the temperature plummeting in Brock’s apartment and subsequently doing nothing to shield his bare arms in his short-sleeved t-shirt. 

You hadn’t said anything to him, just thrown the blanket you knew to rest across the back of the couch across both your laps, and watched him settle his head snugly against your ribs, the blanket pulled right up to his chin and his legs kicked out across the carpet. Milo had somehow buried himself under the blanket too, his nose tucked under Elias’s chin and body draped across the both of you, acting as a living, breathing hot water bottle.

After a while, though, Elias’s hand stroking Milo’s head had slowed, and his eyes had fluttered closed after a yawn, and from your higher position, you could just make out the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. You didn’t know if it was because he was already exhausted before he even left the house, or the combination of alcohol, warmth and the gentle sweep of your fingers across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones that had sent him over the edge, but you’d made sure the latter was hidden from his teammates by the lump of Milo’s body. 

Brock must have seen, though, but he hadn’t said anything, just smiled.

***

It was a knock at the door that had you peering over the top of your laptop screen to share a confused glance with Petey. His hand momentarily tightened on your calf when he turned around to glance at the front door, turning back to you with a ‘what the hell?’ look pasted on his face.

“Are we expecting anyone?” You asked, snapping the lid of your laptop shut and swinging your legs out of Elias’s lap to put the laptop on the coffee table.

It was always a shock when someone knocked on your apartment door, mostly because the only people who could essentially get that far in the building were people that lived there, otherwise security would have buzzed up. Needless to say, when that person knocked again, you were both propelled so quickly off the sofa that your newly-adopted dog startled awake and eagerly followed you both on your heels as you rushed to the door, slipping slightly in your socks.

It was Elias that managed to slide to the door quicker, rolling his eyes and immediately retreating back to the couch after peeking through the peephole. You watched him with a frown, the dog between you both snapping his head back and forth, eventually settling for rejoining the Swede on the cushions once more.

“Who…” You started, immediately understanding the lack of enthusiastic reaction when it was Brock on the other side of the door, pink-cheeked and looking a little nervous.

“Hi.” You threw open the door with a friendly smile, a hand coming to rest on your hip as Brock seemed to let out a sigh of relief.

“Hey, sorry to barge in here unannounced,” he started, stuffing his hands in his pockets, stepping into the apartment when you opened the door to let him in. He seemed to scan the entire room, the worried crease between his brows disappearing when he couldn’t see Elias, who, rather rudely, had hidden himself on the sofa, not a single socked foot or hair visible from where Brock seemed to lead you over to the kitchen island, “I just need to talk to you now Petey’s not here.”

Your eyes zipped to the sofa, a little suspicious but entirely too invested in the anticipation to even bother correcting Brock – probably at his own expense, but you had no issue dealing with any potential fallout later.

He rifled through your cupboards, not saying anything else until he’d pulled out a glass and filled it with water from the tap, before turning to you and gesturing to the island stool, a nervous expression on his face.

You swallowed, a sudden pebble of dread settling in your stomach as you took the seat, too apprehensive to tease him for making himself at home.

“So…” he started, clearing his throat, before deciding to take a sip of water.

“You’re kind of freaking me out–”

“It’s nothing bad, I swear.” He interrupted, spluttering slightly as his cheeks coloured, “In fact, it’s really good.”

You blinked, a little unsure, “Okay.”

“Thank you.” He said, a little breathlessly and with an air of finality, an awkward smile on his face. 

You blinked, expecting him to elaborate, but when all he did next was take another sip of water, you felt your face contort into a confused frown. You’d known Brock for years, he’d been the one to introduce you and Petey in the first place, but even after finding out about you two, he’d never acted weirder than he was now. He was tetchy, out of breath and pink – the latter wasn’t exactly unusual for him, but combined with the other two things? 

Concerning.

“What for?” You asked, folding your arms against the countertop. 

There was a clacking of paws and a chinkling of a collar making its way towards where you and Brock were in the kitchen, and you instinctively reached a hand down, a wet nose greeting the inside of your palm before wandering over to nudge Brock in the leg.

He bent down, using the interruption as a reprieve from answering your question, “Hey, girl.” He cooed, scratching Tuesday behind the ears until her attention had dwindled and she silently padded back to the sofa, disappearing from sight once more as she presumably curled up against Elias once more.

Brock cleared his throat, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “Um…I don’t know how to say it.”

You inhaled, pursing your lips, “Right.” There was a pause, neither of you quite knowing where to go from there, “Just say what you’re thinking and then correct it if it doesn’t sound right.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair, “I guess I just wanted to thank you for loving Petey the way you do, and I know that’s a weird thing to thank someone for, because a thank you implies that it’s some kind of chore, which it isn’t but…It’s comforting to know my best friends are happy with each other and have someone looking out for them.” He took a breath, watching you carefully, “I think it’s kinda weird, actually, because I remember this one time distinctly before he met you and he’d had quite a lot to drink, he ended up talking about how he was probably gonna die alone, so it’s just nice to know that that’s not the case. Also, you guys are good together. Just wanted to say that because I don’t think I’ve ever said how glad I am that you found each other when you did.”

The only thing you could truly register was the pounding of your heart against your sternum. That, and the way your jaw seemed to have dropped as you took in everything Brock was saying. It was a lot.

“Oh.” Was all you could say, entirely too overwhelmed with gratitude and appreciation for the man in front of you, his hands clenching and unclenching as though he wasn’t sure if he should approach you or not, to even get anything else out.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly, leaning his head down to get a look at your face. When he realised you weren’t in the least bit upset at what he’d said, he seemed to relax, an easy smile making its way onto his face.

There was a distant shuffle from somewhere behind you, and you saw Brock’s eyes dart to the sofa, mouth immediately setting itself into a hard line as his head dipped down mid-sigh. It was pretty easy to guess what he’d figured out when his eyes swung back to you, now shooting a sheepish smile in his direction, “Is he over there?” He mouthed, and it was the slight wince in his features that you took pity on, shaking your head.

“He’s asleep.” You lied, voice loud enough to make sure Elias would get the memo in case Brock decided to do some investigating of his own, “And I’m fine, I just wasn’t expecting you to say all of that.”

He shrugged, buying your excuse, “It needed to be said.”

You reached a hand across the counter to lovingly pat his own, “Thank you.”

He smiled, exhaling, “I promise my speech will be better at your wedding.” He grinned cheekily, clearly getting a jab in at Elias where he could, and you simply rolled your eyes, unable to help breathing a laugh at him.

Brock’s eyes flickered back to the couch, before settling on you, your cheeks a little pinker at his insinuation. You didn’t correct him, there wouldn’t be much of a point – marriage had been talked about so often between you and Elias that the nerves surrounding the entire thing were little to none. You had plans, and Brock was aware of those plans. It still didn’t stop him teasing the both of you every now and then.

Yet, because you and Elias had talked about it, it also meant you were privy to some information that Brock wasn’t – not that he knew any better when it came to your word.

“What makes you think you’re going to be the best man?” You asked, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

He blinked, before tilting his head, “I’m not?”

He was. Maybe.

You shrugged coyly, enjoying the furrow in his brow and his stuttering, “Well, who is if not me?” His voice was shrill with disbelief, perhaps verging on being a little bit panicky – as though he hadn’t ever thought of the possibility of not being the best man, and you felt a stab of guilt at his sudden change in demeanour, “Is it Quinn?”

And because he looked so heartbroken at the possibility, you couldn’t not tell him a partial truth; the only thing stopping you was the tiny likelihood of Elias changing his mind, “I don’t know, we haven’t actually talked about that.” Was what you settled for.

He nodded, relaxing almost immediately. It was difficult to miss the way his gaze darted to the empty space on your left ring finger, brows twitching.

You leant across the counter, mindful to lower your voice so Elias couldn’t overhear, “Do you know something I don’t?” You whispered, eyes wide. You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears when he shrugged, trying not to smile at you.

“I love what you’ve done with the place.” He said loudly, pointedly looking everywhere but at you, which did nothing but tell you more than his avoidance on the matter did.

You said nothing, but delighted in the new slip of information, unable to help laughing at the blonde in front of you, “You know we haven’t redecorated since we moved in.”

Brock smiled, “How long ago was that, again? Two years?”

“Three.”

“Ah.” His smile didn’t waver, though there was an added layer of mischief, one which had you squinting curiously in his direction.

He was hinting at something, that much was for certain.

“Right.” He sighed, sticking his hands in his pockets and shrugging, fully aware of the seed he’d just planted in your mind, “I best get going. Coolie and Milo can only be away from me for so long until they get separation anxiety, so…It was nice to see you.” He trailed off, making his way to the door, you not too far behind.

He stopped in the doorway, the wall shielding him from any blonde Swede potentially watching from his seat, and turned to you with a gentle, genuine smile on his face, “He’s not asleep, is he?”

You shook your head, “No.”

“Give Petey my love.” Brock said, once more loud enough for Petey to have heard him, and he wasted no time in wrapping you up in a brief hug.

“Thanks for what you said, it means a lot.” You mumbled, “Love you too, y’know?”

He pulled away, “Yeah, I know.”

“I’ll see you next week?” You asked hopefully, Brock opening the door and stepping out into the hallway, hands tucked securely in his pockets as he nodded.

“See you.”

As soon as you shut the door, you found yourself making your way back to the couch with some urgency, only to falter at the sight of Tuesday draped across Elias’s torso, her nose tucked into his shoulder as he hugged her to him. His eyes were open, and there was a rueful smile on his face that remained, even when you sat on the edge of the coffee table and folded your arms, attempting to look a little annoyed.

“So…” You started, tilting your head.

“So…” He echoed, pursing his lips in an effort not to laugh.

“We have really good friends.” 

He just nodded, one hand absent-mindedly rubbing across Tuesday’s back.

“Almost too good, I mean, you could argue Brock’s loyalty lies more towards me than you.” You looked away from him pointedly, disappointed that the coffee table was too low for you to start swinging your legs, and when you looked at him out of the corner of your eye, he’d perked up a little.

There was a small crease between his brows, and the sheepish smile on his lips had vanished, his suspicion piqued at your words.

“What did he say?”

“Well,” you shrugged sarcastically, “you’d know if you didn’t choose to ignore him at the door.”

He groaned, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, “In my defence, Quinn sent me a text telling me if I saw Brock and he came in asking for you, to make myself scarce. I’d have said something if he hadn’t initially asked if I was there.” He sighed, turning to you, “Now, what did he say?”

“Nothing I didn’t already know.”

***

You were pacing, hand against your chest in a futile attempt to calm your racing heart and the crush of dread coursing through your veins. You’d ended up in this situation a little too often lately for comfort: on the verge of a panic attack at the mere thought of your job. It certainly wasn’t a good sign. Not only that but it was terribly inconvenient, too.

You were at some gala Elias had been invited to along with a few other teammates, and all it had taken was for a well-meaning, polite ‘so, what do you do?’ from a kind stranger for everything to come crashing down. You’d answered easily, trying to ignore the way the world seemed to fall away at the time, but almost as soon as you’d answered, you’d excused yourself and shut yourself in one of the farthest rooms from where the event was taking place.

This was the fourth time these mini-panic attacks had happened – though, three out of four times you’d managed to calm yourself down to a sensible enough composure and prevent it from ever reaching the ‘panic or heart attack?’ stage that you’d dealt with the first time.

Elias didn’t know about them. No one knew – but this time you just knew you were going to have to come clean because the truth of the matter was that you were having a hard time, and Elias knew you were, but you didn’t talk about it, and you knew he was worried for you. You’d caught him looking at you differently lately, and if you were being honest, the longer you left it before you told him, the worse it’d get, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone – least of all you.

Your chest was aching, and even despite your hand massaging the tenderness, it did little to ease the pain.

The door creaked open slowly, and you stopped pacing, still continuing to inhale and exhale steadily as you watched it carefully, anticipating someone to clearly stick their head through the door–

“Thank fuck, what are you doing here?” You seemed to recognise his voice before your brain could comprehend his blonde buzzcut and piercing eyes, and the anxiety bubbling away under your skin seemed to react accordingly, prickling a little as the heaviness momentarily spiked.

He’d never seen you like this: every time you’d had these little episodes he hadn’t even been in the house, or you were hiding in a closet in the school away from everyone, and for a second you were scared of what he’d think of you. 

Only, when he stepped further into the room and shut the door behind him, all that self-consciousness seemed to melt away when he immediately clocked onto the way your hand was rubbing insistently at your chest. You couldn't even imagine what your face looked like, but you knew your eyes would be rimmed red (you absolutely refused to cry because you’d spent a long time getting ready for this, and ruining your makeup at this point would only make things worse), and that alone was enough for him to say something.

You frowned, not hearing anything but the rushing of blood in your ears, and then you were worried for him. He was looking at you, and you couldn’t remember if he’d ever looked at you with such concern before. If he had, you were almost certain you’d never seen it, but if he hadn’t, that meant that he knew something was very, very wrong.

Sometimes you really didn’t know why you underestimated his ability to read you and to know you as well as he did, because it was beginning to get to the point where he could read you more often than he couldn’t, and you were exhausting any possible methods of trying to hide things from him, because, as usual, he’d begin to see through those behaviours too.

“Huh?” You asked, a little breathlessly.

He hesitated, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as though he wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself, “What’s wrong?” He repeated, looking so utterly serious that you suddenly had the urge to laugh.

You didn’t, though. In fact, your face barely moved from what it looked like, and you were too overwhelmed to even think about wondering what it looked like, because your heart was racing and panic still had an iron grip on your heart, and you were sure you were rubbing the skin on your chest red with the heel of your hand, but if you stopped, you had the bizarre notion that things would only worsen.

“I…” You started, swallowing and inhaling sharply. It was difficult to look him in the eyes and say what you wanted to say, what you’d planned to say, and even though you could just tell he had a million questions on the tip of his tongue, he was going to great lengths to keep them at bay for your sake, and you loved him even more for it in that moment.

His eyes drifted to your hand, and you looked away – there was a painting on the wall and if you focused on that…You didn’t even know, but it felt right to focus on that.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly, and you nodded, inhaling through your nose and exhaling through your mouth, eyes fixated on the painting.

It looked like it could be a replica Monet.

He seemed to breathe a quiet sigh of relief, and before you had time to think about it, his cold hands came to close around yours, and you stopped rubbing your chest, a shaky exhale passing your lips. You had no idea if he could feel your heart hammering wildly, and if he could he made no move to show it.

His cold hands felt nice against your burning skin. Some of the pain alleviated a little, and the tightness eased – not completely, it was still there – but the cold touch was heavenly. Against your own will, you felt your eyes flutter shut.

“This isn’t the first time this has happened, is it?” He whispered, and you shook your head, concentrating on your breathing. Calming an erratic heart rate was hard when it mattered, though it was undoubtedly easier with someone else to distract you a little bit.

He didn’t say anything in reply, but his hands squeezed yours and this time you felt it within yourself to manage words.

“How’d you know that?” You whispered, peeling your eyes open slowly. 

His lips twitched upwards a little bit after you looked at him, a small triumph in the grand scheme of things, but you couldn’t quite reciprocate it just yet. Though, when you asked the question, it seemed to flicker and he fell back into that concerned stare, the smile melting completely off his face, “You were already doing breathing techniques.”

You nodded.

“This room’s cute.” He mumbled, turning his head.

It was the first time you’d noticed it, actually. There were windows on your left, and you could see the view from the building: the event wasn’t that high up, but from where you were standing the building directly opposite the street was much smaller, meaning you could see for a couple of blocks around. The sun was beginning to set, and the orange light was reflecting off the glass, and you knew if it had been under any other circumstance, you’d have thought this room to be a little romantic. The paintings certainly helped, but the wooden shelves seemed to ruin the whole mood. 

Still, you agreed with him. Partly because it did help to take your mind off everything, and partly because you knew the engagement would help him too. It was a win-win.

“I think that painting’s a Monet one.” You muttered, using your free hand to point over his shoulder. He kept his own securely wrapped around the one pressed to your chest, and turned to look.

“Looks like it.” He paused, before turning to look at it again, “It’d look good in our living room, don’t you think?”

You pulled a face, “Nah, it’ll clash with the walls.”

“And for that reason, it’d be a solid pick for Brock’s taste.”

This time you laughed – it felt a bit pathetic, but the endorphins helped ease the tension everywhere, and with a bout of relief, the tightness seemed to fade further, and your heart rate decreased, and you found you could actually hear the event down the hall; you could smell the woody scent of the room, and how it must have grown stronger in the warmth, and you could smell Elias’s aftershave. 

The latter felt like a soft nudge in the ribs, one of nostalgia, like your brain saying ‘hey, we know that smell, it means good things’, and with that your shoulders relaxed.

“Sorry.” You said, your head still a little fuzzy.

“Don’t apologise–”

“I should have told you.”

He shook his head, but didn’t say anything. If he was being honest, he didn’t know what to say in this kind of situation.

“It’s work.” You continued, taking another deep breath; the hand on your chest flexed, and Elias took the hint, unravelling his hands, only for you to still grab ahold of one. You needed it, especially if you were about to talk about the very thing that sent you into this panic in the first place, “The new head of department is…He’s really unhelpful, not approachable, and a fucking dick, like…” you breathed a bitter laugh, beginning to feel your eyes water, “He’s changed the entire department’s structure, doubled the amount of practicals and added new stuff and I’ve been trying to plan new lessons in the middle of the lessons because I’m not allowed to work overtime and get it done then, which is why I’ve been doing it at home. And half the department’s off with stress already, so I’ve been teaching food, too, on top of textiles, and…” You took a breath, realising Elias already knew half of what you were saying, but he was still listening as intently as he would have done the first time you’d said it, “He’s friends with the Principal, too, so even if I wanted to complain about him it wouldn’t get very far.”

He inhaled sharply, “He’s friends with the Principal?” 

“Unfortunately, yeah.”

“Fucking hell.” He groaned like someone had just shot down the only idea in his arsenal for this conversation, “I knew it was bad, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”

“Um…I had a plan, like what I was going to tell you, but I can’t remember that now because I obviously wasn’t expecting this to happen now.” You laughed a little, even despite yourself, but it lacked energy, and it was strangely empty. 

Elias tilted his head, brows knitting together, and he sighed sadly, his thumb tracing across the back of your hand. And because you knew him, you knew that keeping this huge thing from him hurt him. He didn’t show it outwardly, though, not intentionally, “You know you don’t need a plan with me, right?” 

You felt your chin wobble �� completely out of your control, “Ye–You’re gonna make me cry, and I spent hours on–”

“-Your makeup, yeah. Come here.” He used your interlocked hands as leverage to pull you into him, your chin resting on his shoulder thanks to your heels, and you sniffed, once more turning to focus on the painting behind him, trying to ward off possible tears.

“I’m gonna book a Doctor’s appointment and get a sick note, I don’t know how long for, and I’m gonna take some time off to figure it out, y’know, maybe it’ll be okay if I move schools, or–or maybe I don’t want to be a teacher anymore, I don’t know.” You trailed off, squeezing your eyes shut.

Teaching had been a large chunk of your career, and you knew it was a big bomb to drop in probably not the best moment: his team were outside, as were important donors and sponsors, and here you were, shut in a room together, because maybe the degree you went to college for wasn’t actually something you were meant to do, and everyone around you had these big plans, ambitions for their futures, and you didn’t. You hated your job, now. Most mornings you’d get up and have to fight with yourself to just get ready for school, and the more you thought about it, the more you knew you should have told him sooner.

“That’s okay, y’know? It’s okay.” Was all he said, his arms wrapped securely across your shoulders, “It’s okay if you don’t want to go back into teaching, too.”

You almost started crying then and there, but you held off, “I don’t know what I’d do, though.”

He shrugged, “You don’t have to do anything.”

There was a thinly veiled insinuation there, one that he’d made before, mostly as a reassuring joke, but to say it in this moment, to say it now, you knew he wasn’t joking anymore. Maybe he hadn’t ever been joking.

“I think I’d go crazy if I didn’t do anything.” 

He huffed a laugh, “We don’t have to think about that yet, though.”

“I should’ve told you.” He’d have helped make you feel better, perhaps take some of the weight off your shoulders.

“You told me now. There’s no point dwelling.”

“I can feel a ‘but’ coming…”

“Not a ‘but’, but…” you both huffed a laugh, “Part of my job, not as a hockey player, but as your boyfriend is to help you with this kind of thing. We share the load, right?” 

“Yeah.”

You stood like that for a while, until your breathing and heart calmed, until the pain in your chest subsided, and until it looked like you weren’t about to start crying.

“Do you want to go home?” Elias mumbled into your hair, ever patient.

“Not yet. We should stay for a bit longer.”

He hummed, the vibration ticking the skin on your forehead, “You wanna stay here for a bit longer or go back in?”

“Stay here. Five minutes.”

***

Elias was a little nervous at exactly what would happen when Quinn would come down the steps with his brand new baby girl in his arms, but admittedly not for the reasons anyone would expect. He’d held newborn babies before, Quinn wasn’t the first teammate to have a child and he certainly won’t be the last – no, Elias wasn’t worried about that.

His apprehension stemmed from something inside his own mind, a paranoia of sorts. You guys had been together for six years and married for two, and so he knew the expectations of the natural order to follow after that much time together. It was only typical for people to assume that kids were the next thing: his own parents were bad enough, asking when they were going to get a grandbaby on their hands, and if he was being honest, Elias felt like everyone was looking at him for it.

Which was illogical, because not only was no one looking at him; he knew the teasing was utterly and completely harmless…only, the more he got chirped for it, the more he seemed to doubt his own thoughts.

He was thirty now. You guys had talked about having kids in your future, they were on the cards, but he didn’t want them yet. He guessed he was lucky in the fact that you didn’t either, but he was afraid that baby Lily Hughes, with her little fists and chubby legs, would change his mind.

And a change of mind was the last thing Elias wanted. If he was being completely honest, he wouldn’t mind having kids right now – he was broody, he was starting to pay more attention to names and clothes, and he felt a pang of something in his chest when he’d see his teammates with their kids at the family skate sessions. Yet, the one thing holding him back the most was his career.

When he eventually has kids of his own, he doesn’t want to leave both you and your child at home for weeks on end whilst he was off skating fuck knows where. He didn’t think he could do that; it was already hard leaving you alone, but there was something so utterly heart-wrenching about the thought of adding a child into that mix.

He’d be a fucking mess. The guilt? The loneliness? He’d miss his family too much.

But, there was a little voice in the back of his mind, known as Kris Letang – or rather, words that he’d spoken and Elias had read once upon a time – telling him that maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad if he had a child that grew up understanding and appreciating what it was he did. 

The idea of taking a mini-you and mini-him to those family skating sessions sounded like an absolute dream. As did having a little one behind the boards at his games, and a plethora of other things, too.

And to top it all off, he was standing in his best friend’s living room, staring at the cards and flowers in the window, you upstairs and out of sight at Kat’s bedside, and everything he’d tried to bottle was coming to the surface and he essentially had absolutely nothing to stop it.

Except–

“Hey,” Quinn pushed open the door, Elias’s attention snapping to the bundle of blankets in his arms, “Lily, meet your Uncle Petey.” Quinn cooed, face alight with utter joy as he positioned the baby girl in his arms for Elias to peer down–

Oh.

Oh.

Elias swallowed, something in chest melting at the brown eyes blinking wearily up at him and little fists struggling in the air. 

She’s gorgeous.

“I know, right?” Quinn breathed, watching Petey’s reaction with glistening eyes.

Had he said that out loud? 

He had no time to dwell on it before Quinn was talking again, “You wanna hold her?”

He felt himself nodding before he even thought about speaking, and Quinn carefully, slowly, gently lifted Lily into Elias’s waiting arms, adjusting his arms to support her head. Elias blinked, registering the warmth seeping into his arms from the blankets, the weight in his arms almost too light to be an entire human being – she was so tiny.

She wasn’t that much bigger than his entire hand.

He traced a finger so gently across her cheek, unable to really realise that Quinn was laughing at him as he wandered into the kitchen to get a start on making some coffees. 

In fact, Elias couldn’t really look away until he heard your footsteps coming down the stairs. Only then was he able to realise that he hadn’t even moved from his spot when Quinn had handed him Lily initially. Though, when he took a quick glance down at her, her eyes were shut, mouth open a little as she slept, and he seemed to fall even deeper down the rabbit hole of what-the-fuck-I-might-want-a-baby.

That was how you found him when you finally entered the living room: standing as still as humanly possible by the window, his gaze locked firmly on the bundle in his arms and something in his entire demeanour that had you sharing a rather bewildered glance with Quinn, who was blinking tiredly from where he’d sat down on the couch.

Despite Petey’s clear hesitancy to move in fear of waking her up, he looked strangely natural holding Lily with such care and adoration. You didn’t say anything or approach him, but you did take a seat next to Quinn.

“You did good.” You whispered, a smile on your face, “She’s gorgeous.”

He grinned, “I know.”

“Is anyone else coming today or are we your last visitors?”

His eyes zipped to the clock on the mantelpiece, “You guys are the last ones for today. We’ve got the grandparents tomorrow.”

“Grandparents.” Then, after a brief pause, “It feels so surreal that you’re a Dad now. A good surreal, but…”

“Weird?” He offered, and you nodded, “You know what’s next?”

You hummed, feeling his foot nudge your leg playfully, “What?”

“Baby Peteys.” 

You rolled your eyes, “We’ll see.”

You nodded your head in the direction of Elias, who still had his back to you, and Quinn smiled in understanding, letting you go. 

“Hi.” You mumbled into Elias’s shoulder, resting your cheek against him and looking at baby Lily asleep.

“Hi,” he greeted back, and you could feel the heat of his eyes on the side of your face as you stroked her cheek, your nose scrunching up in a managed reaction to her cuteness when she stirred. Gosh, she was too cute. Elias must have been thinking the same thing, because just as you thought those words, he was talking, “She’s so cute.”

You breathed a quiet laugh, “Of course she’s cute, look at her parents.”

“Quinn isn’t cute.” He teased, throwing his head back and winking at his friend with humour, before turning back to you, “Baby cuddles?”

You shook your head, “I had baby cuddles upstairs.” You rubbed his arm, “I think we need to go–”

“Already? We just got here.” Elias protested, pulling his mouth downwards much to your amusement.

“I know, but they’re tired. It’s only been four days, they need some time to themselves without having to wait on other people.”

It didn’t come as much of a shock when the first thing he said after shutting the door behind him was “I think we should talk when we get back”.

***

You hope the blonde stays forever, and with Elias’s Swedish genes and being very blonde himself, you had a feeling that was going to be the case, because Hanna’s almost white hair peeking out from under her pink bucket hat, still a little damp from the seawater, was just too adorable to cope with.

She was every bit Elias’s twin, and it was so hilariously obvious when they were sitting side by side, Hanna in her high chair and Elias with one arm draped over the back of it, conversing with her unintelligible baby babble with a sweet grin on his face only ever reserved for her. She had his deep blue eyes and an adorably infectious giggle, even as he playfully swiped suncream across her face.

“It’s such a lovely day–”

“Sea!” Hanna yelped, a chubby arm almost smacking Elias in the face as she pointed to the blue sparkling water over the decking of the restaurant, the word startling both you and Elias into a dumbfounded silence.

You swallowed, sharing a look with him, and a smile broke onto your face at the way he seemed so utterly speechless; his mouth was parted slightly, and his eyes were wide and before he could regain his senses, you leant across the table, successfully garnering Hanna’s attention from where her arm was still outstretched and her eyes were fixed on Elias.

“Baby, can you say that again for us?” You asked, heart melting when she blinked and reached to grab a small chunk of cut up apple from her bowl.

Elias seemed to snap out of his shock because he pointed to the water over his shoulder, “Sea.”

Hanna stuffed the piece of apple into her mouth, head swivelling back and forth between you and Elias with an adorable blend of confusion and curiosity, seemingly refusing to say anything else after a heavy pause filled with a kind of excited anticipation, the both of you wanting nothing more than for her to repeat what she just said.

You’d had these heart-stopping moments on a few occasions now, where Hanna would say something that sounded like a word and point to something that could be related to what she’d said, but she’d yet to repeat it. 

Technically, her first word was ‘woof’, though arguably it wasn’t really much of a word, but she had been pointing to a dog at the time, which kind of made you think that she had some level of understanding about what was being said around her, but…it could be a fluke.

Elias groaned jokingly, ducking his head down only to be attacked by a little palm patting the top of his cap, before looking back up at you, a slightly bewildered look on his face. 

It was nice to see him unwind after the chaos of the end of the Canucks’ season; Stanley Cup winners the year before meant that the expectation of possibly winning again this year was pretty high, mostly for Quinn (as much as he tried to deny it), but you could also tell it had taken its toll on Elias, too. It was mainly the questions from reporters repeatedly asking them what they were gonna do to help maintain their win streaks, and answering the same questions paired with unsolicited criticism from fans and almost every other person in the conference rooms that was so exhausting.

They hadn’t won this year, much to everyone’s dismay, but they’d held on until the seventh game of the third round of the play-offs.

Needless to say, a break to Sweden to see his family was definitely a good choice if the constant grinning was anything to go by. 

“What is it?” Elias asked, a knowing glint in his eye as he adjusted the hat on Hanna’s head.

You hadn’t even realised you’d been staring, but there wasn’t a single part of you that felt embarrassed by having been caught in the act: you’d known each other for so long now that things like getting caught admiring each other was an honest blessing. He knew why you were staring, you knew why you were staring; it was hard not to stare most of the time when Elias always looked so good, but there was something about the way he seemed to radiate pure joy when he was around Hanna (and you – but that went without saying) that always seemed to captivate your whole attention.

Moments like that were worth the difficult goodbyes and the time apart and the rough nights.

You just shook your head, resting your cheek on your fist, “Nothing.”

There was an unreadable expression on his face, but the slight squint of his eyes told you everything you needed to know, before you were sighing, eyes zipping to Hanna, because whilst you weren’t bothered about getting caught staring, it didn’t mean you don’t still get nervous when he divided his entire attention to you, “You look really happy right now.” Was what you settled for.

He softened, a smile melting onto his face as he moved one of his hands to the middle of the table to take yours so he could place a delicate kiss on the inside of your wrist, “I am.”

#elias pettersson oneshot #elias pettersson x reader #elias pettersson fic #elias pettersson imagine #nhl fic #hockey fic #nhl oneshot #hockey oneshot #nhl imagine #hockey imagine

[favcharacterpoll]

ROUND 4 MATCH 12: C!WILBUR VS. STAN

c!Wilbur Soot from the DSMP faces Stanley Pines from Gravity Falls. Who do you like more? obligatory @10piecechickenmcnugget tag because your man is RUNNING THE GAUNTLET

c!Wilbur Propaganda:

"Accurate depiction of mental health and spiral, handled delicately and deliberately, every piece of his story was thought and planned and in the end he went home to Utah. Thank you lord."

"Please don’t let the name dream smp effect how you feel about this submission, this character is completely unrelated to dream and I’m pretty sure the person who played him has nothing to do with dream anymore. This man single handedly got me through a horrible patch filled with extreme paranoia by also being extremely paranoid. Genuinely really helped me feel seen and I coped a lot by getting invested in this character. I almost cried when he died :("

"He’s so fucking stupid. I could infodump for hours this man transed my gender. Everything has gone wrong in his life. He’s the definition of a bisexual disaster."

"I didn’t fail 10th grade math bc I was thinking about c!wilbur for him to lose round one"

"I mean look at him!! his Minecraft skin is adorable!!!"

"if you people vote for cwilbur i'll draw him in a bikini."

"A VOTE FOR C!WILBUR IS A VOTE FOR GIRLBOYS EVERYWHERE"

"i should not have underestimated minecraft fans they came together"

64.media.tumblr.com

"Season 1 changed me. I didn’t know minecraft videos could have good acting, dramatic plots, etc. Wilbur was one of the best there. His plot was so interesting with the L’Manburg and the unfinished symphony arcs. He was funny, dramatic, sad… I fondly remember my dsmp days (though I only saw up to like part of Tommy’s exile)"

Stan Propaganda:

"from the same creature that submitted ford and was too tired for actual propaganda. they’re pretty cool huh"

"That propaganda is disgraceful but I'm also too tired to write up any big things for it"

"Hi that lack of propaganda for Stan Pines is offensive to me personally so here's some fun stuff:

He's punched zombies AND an all-powerful demon to death for the sake of protecting his family. He spent thirty years trying to turn on a portal to the Multiverse to get his twin brother back. He still thinks sacrificing his entire being is all that he's good for, and that makes my heart so sad. He loves his family and his family loves him. He's a silver fox. He also punched a pterodactyl in the face because he felt so bad about lying to his niece and getting her pet pig kidnapped that he had to fix his mistake (and yes, he did get the pig back). His nemesis was a ten-year-old child psychic whom he knew was a fraud because the kid didn't even realize his name wasn't actually Stanford.

Man of all time. Character of all time."

#polls #dsmp wilbur #c wilbur #wilbur soot #wilbur dsmp #dsmp #gravity falls stanley #stan pines #gruncle stan #stanley pines #gravity falls