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highvern · 26 days

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Patterns II

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x fem!reader

Genre: smut (18+), eventual fluff/angst

Summary: Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. Three times is a pattern. So what does it mean when you find yourself in Wonwoo's bed over and over again?

Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism, fingering, hand job, dry humping, oral (face sitting), lots of teasing/minor degradation if you squint, overstimulation, breath play

Length: ~9.9k

Note: part 2 is here, let's goooooo! thanks for being so patient and thank you @millennial-fangirl and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing!

Remember: Tumblr runs on reblogs and I run on validation in the tags and comments :)

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This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

Avoiding Wonwoo post D-Day, as Amina calls it, proves to be surprisingly easy. An entire week of back to back meetings leaves you blocking off parts of your calendar just to use the bathroom. And according to the grapevine, there’s been zero proof of life from Wonwoo’s end either which has caused Mingyu to break out in hives.

But as the weekend draws closer you’re given the greatest gift the universe can bestow.

“Monday is a disconnect day for the client which means all of us are on black out. No emails, no phone calls, nothing.” Mona announces in the team huddle.

Tears of joy bead in your eyes at the news. However, it's short lived.

“We’ll need to hit the ground running when we come back so make sure everything is done Friday. Even if you have to stay late. Understand?”

Your laptop pings with a message in the corner.

Gerard: how does she make free PTO sound like hell?

Y/N: i think she said it was her special talent when we did ice breakers at the beginning of the project

Gerard: oh yeah right after she said she hates puppies

Y/N: and joy

Mona slaps her own computer shut, sending you ten feet in the air before continuing, “If there isn’t anything else. We can wrap this up. Shoot me a message if there are any questions.”

“And how will you be spending your new found free time?” You ask.

Gerard holds the door open as you walk past, “The way the universe intends. In bed, sleeping. Maybe I’ll finally unpack my suitcase from the last trip Mona dragged me on.”

“Wasn’t that like, a month ago?” You ask.

“And?”

The rest of the day is a blur, rushing from meeting to meeting with barely enough time to breathe. It’s only the end of the day that grants you the next glimpse at the world outside the dreary office walls. Albeit through the bright screen of your cell phone.

Once back at your desk, you unlock your phone to find several unread messages. Several from Amina document her jealousy that you and Lisa have long weekends. Lisa offers to kick Mingyu off the long planned trip to the adorable bed and breakfast she found for their anniversary.

Amina 🍑💗: FREE ME FROM THE SHACKLES OF CORPORATE AMERICA

Y/N: Your honor free her!!!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: Girls trip! Girls trip! Girls trip!

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: mingyu will understand

Y/N: I am begging you to go have gross emotional sex somewhere other than our apartment

Lisa 👁️🫦👁️: we’ve done it plenty of places that arent the apartment :)

Y/N: whore

But a separate thread unleashes a coldsnap in your veins.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): forgot to give these back…

Attached is a photo. A familiar swatch of cotton contrasting with the rich navy of his blanket in the background. His long fingers grip the hem, involuntarily jolting memories of them curled around your body.

Upon realizing you’re sitting out in the open staring at a picture of your panties, you hastily lock your phone and shove it into the deep recesses of your purse. Thank the stars no one else was around to glimpse the crude picture or the sudden sweat along your brow. How dare Wonwoo’s first attempt at speaking to you post hook up be a picture of your underwear in the middle of the work day. Who did he think he was?

Overcoming the initial embarrassment that floods your system, you decide to ignore his bid for attention. If you ignored him then he wouldn’t know the power he held. Plain and simple.

—

The next few days fly past without incident. Wonwoo remains silent and allows you to fall back into forgetting his existence.

As Friday hurdles forward, the usual shenanigans of bar hopping is replaced by plans for a movie night. You aren’t the only one suffering from sleep deprivation; Amina’s job ran her into the ground, and same with Lisa’s.

The idea fills you with dread, spurred by yearning to spend every moment of free time to catch up on sleep. But knowing your friends, the probability of successfully ditching is on the negative side of zero, especially since you’ve barely spoken to one another all week and they’d both be out of town for the weekend.

The atmosphere of the office is sullen. Late Friday afternoons are reserved for pretending to work and gossiping. Unless you work for your team. In which case, you’ve spent the past hour agonizing over different powerpoint transitions and if they convey professionalism yet approachable.

A throat clearing behind you breaks your trace.

“Okay, I need to go home.”

Looking up from your laptop, an aura of visible graveness radiates from Gerard. His theater minor really came in handy.

“Why?” You ask skeptically.

Gerard was nice. But he wasn’t that nice.

“Because I’m already going to be stuck here all night.” He sighs. “And there’s no point in both of us suffering. You have the report ready?”

“Yeah, I just need to make a new powerpoint and get it finalized.”

“Then let me handle it. Mona wants me to re-do the other report you need for the deck so I’ll make it when I’m done.”

Hands moving of their own volition, you shove your scattered belongings into your purse. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.” He groans. “If I need something I’ll call. Now go. Be free.”

He shoos you without another word, diving into his own computer. Before Gerard can change his mind you’re in the elevator and own your way home.

Thirty minutes later, you find Amina and Lisa already in the midst of a full apartment clean up. A 2000s playlist blasts from the speaker on the counter while Amina shoots daggers at the furniture in the living room.

“Do you think we should move the couch?” Amina shouts at your entrance.

Her lips move but you can’t hear anything over the blasting noise. “Huh?”

“The couch!” She repeats after cutting off the sound.

You nod before realizing you're still in work clothes. Rushing to your room, you quickly change into something more presentable.

When you return, Lisa is in the kitchen putting away dishes. You and Amina descend on the living room, heads bobbing in sync to the music while you work. Under combined efforts, the space shifts from wild disarray to sparkling clean in no time.

Moving in sync, you both work to tetter the furniture into different arrangements. It takes four attempts before she throws her hands up, accepting defeat and moving to the counter to join Lisa. You fail to silence a half hearted cheer before flopping down onto the soft cushions of the sofa.

“Who said they were coming again?” Amina asks, her head resting on her arms crossed in front of her on top of the cool marble.

“Mingyu, Soonyoung, Eva,” Lisa pauses as she scrolls through her texts to find confirmation. “Wonwoo.”

Both Amina and Lisa snap their necks to pointedly look at you.

Much to your own disappointment, your cheeks heat. Avoiding the scrutinous gazes of your roommates, you roll off the couch and busy yourself with replacing the pillows and blankets Amina tossed aside earlier.

“Have you talked to him at all?” Amina questions, walking over to reorganize the coffee table, sweeping their trinkets and books away for the drinks and food that would soon be spread atop it.

“Nope.”

“He hasn’t texted you or you haven’t responded?” Amina’s eyebrows furrow, as if Wonwoo’s silence is the most confusing thing between you two.

“He hasn’t texted.” You lie, pulling at a frayed thread at the corner of the pillow.

Lisa joins the effort, folding blankets and organizing them in piles. “Well that’s lame.”

“I’m sorry? Weren't you the one who threatened to kill him?”

Lisa rolls her eyes. “So? A girl can’t be dramatic?”

“There’s dramatic and then there’s you.” Amina chimes.

“Whatever.” Lisa scoffs before looking at you. “Wonwoo’s cool but if he ghosted you then he’s a loser.”

You shrug before responding, “It was just a one time thing. It’s not like I was reaching out to him either.”

“I thought you said he was good?” Amina asks with round eyes.

“He was but it was just a one time thing. Let’s not make it weird, okay?” You wait until they both nod before continuing. “What time is everyone coming?”

“Around seven, I think?” Lisa throws the question to Amina.

“Yeah, seven.” Amina answers, eyeing the furniture again.

Glancing at your phone you spot the time, 4:46PM. Perfect.

“I’m gonna shower and take a nap,” You call, heading down the hall.

Once in the bathroom, you undress as the water warms to a tolerable temperature. Finding it suitable, you make to enter but the dig of your phone distracts you. The screen illuminates and you spot a familiar name.

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I was planning on coming with mingyu tonight but if you don’t want me to I'll hang back

Wonwoo (lisa bf roommate): I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything

Strange as it may be, you're oddly endeared by his consideration. But his last messages sit on the screen just above and cut the warmth short.

Y/N: and yet there’s a picture of you holding my panties that says the opposite

Y/N: im not spooked so easily

Locking your phone, you jump in the shower. The hot water lulls away the anticipation flooring through your veins. It didn’t have to be weird. Tonight would prove it.

The short nap leaves you disoriented but the laughter of friends draws you out from the covers. Bravely, you change out of pajamas into more presentable pajamas consisting of sweats and a sweatshirt. Once settled, you slide into the hall and meet company.

Turning the corner and entering the kitchen, you scan the group. Eva and Soonyoung sit across the counter, both of them smiling your way. Amina is fussing about, attempting to organize the drinks spread across the counter into some kind or order. An expensive bottle of liquor Mingyu no doubt supplied sits in the middle like a prize, however he’s nowhere to be seen along with his roommate and girlfriend. You try to assist Amina but the space between the island counter and the stove is barely large enough for one body, let alone two. Amina shoos you away after barely a minute.

A trio of voices echo down the hallway.

“Every project he doesn’t want to do just gets thrown on me.” A deep voice complains. “I don’t even know what his actual job is.”

The timber sends electricity down your spine. You try not to stare as Wonwoo steps into the light of the kitchen trailing behind Lisa. Apparently Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Lisa were tasked with food duty; however, Lisa's hands are completely empty. A stark contrast to Wonwoo and Mingyu behind her balancing several stacked boxes between them.

You exchange a brief friendly smile with Wonwoo, before he continues with Mingyu. Shoulders sagging, your relief is only momentary. The weight of your friends watching the interaction is unbearable, despite everyone being wrapped in their own conversations. Lisa and Amina argue over the best order to organize everything while Mingyu sets about actually arranging the boxes. Soonyoung and Eva exchange gossip at the counter, their own laughter slicing through the air above them.

Pouring yourself a drink, you snatch the pitcher next to Eva, no doubt containing one of her deadly concoctions. Filling the glass halfway, you take a sip. Fruit and spicy sweetness tingling on your tongue followed by the warmth of cinnamon. The slight burn is masked with a deceptive tang of citrus. It goes down much too easily for the amount of alcohol Eva includes in her drinks. You estimate it’ll take two servings before you’re asleep against the arm of the sofa. Empting the glass, you pour another helping and cast off from the counter.

Heading into the living room, you beeline for a spot on the sofa before anyone can object. Despite Amina’s attempts earlier, a few people would have to take to the floor and you refuse to be one of them.

“Alright everyone, come eat.” Amina calls in the small space.

You forgo the pizza for now. There would be plenty after everyone settled. Wrapping in one of the large fleece blankets, you burrow down into the sofa. Bending your knees, your legs cross while you lean back into the seam between the plush cushion and armrest, head perfectly positioned to see the television.

Your cup empties before anyone comes to join you. Lisa and Mingyu squash into the recliner on the other side of the living room, the shabby chair groaning any time their weight shifts. You hope it's enough of a deterrent for their determined wandering hands. Many movie nights had been ruined because of their less than family friendly activities. Amina settles in front of the coffee table amongst the pile of cushions and thick blankets. Eva and Soonyoung curl up on the loveseat against the wall.

Wonwoo crashes down into the space next to you, sending a tight lipped smile at your responding frown. His legs spread apart as he leans forward to eat. Your shin brushes against his thigh through the blanket but fatigue prevents any sort of reaction beyond registering the presence of his body.

Someone knocks out the lights and your eyes cement shut. The horror movie Lisa chose begins, lights from the screen dancing across your eyelids. It's a shallow rest at best, allowing you to catch snippets of dialogue from the characters and muffled whispers from your friends. But it’s like being underwater, senses dull as you experience it all from far far away.

You even forget about Wonwoo until he leans back into the cushions. The contact from his thigh breaking when he props his legs on the coffee table. A particularly loud scream comes from the TV but it's Wonwoo’s voice that startles you.

“Mind sharing?” He whispers, asking for permission despite already lifting the corner of the blanket draped over your knee.

You shake your head, nuzzling further into the armrest and away from temptation.

Wonwoo untucks the fold of the blanket from under your legs, stretching it across his lap. The heat of his side radiates into you even more. Even in your lethargic state the hyper awareness refuses to fade. It stokes a part of you wishing to move onto his lap and work you both back into the blissful high of a few nights ago. But you refuse to acknowledge the craving to dive into him, press your face into the front of his sweater and allow the beat of his heart to lull you into a rest.

You're fully aware all you need to do to get the first thing is let him give it to you. You were the one who ran away, shunned his attempts for a repeat, ignored him. Wonwoo provided several opportunities for a repeat of Friday night, now it was up to you to accept his invitation.

But try as you might not to care, the dread of what your friends will think rears its head. It's a cop out; no one really cares that it's Wonwoo, only happy you’re finally getting laid again.

You need to act before your nerve fades but in a room packed full of watchful eyes you’re unsure how to proceed. Feigning a yawn, your eyes pry open to lazily scan the room. Soonyoung has Eva between his legs, her back resting against his chest.. From where you are sitting it's evident they both have their eyes glued to the screen, Eva takes movie night too seriously to allow any funny business. Amina slouched down enough you can no longer see the top of her curly hair. Cautiously swiping at Lisa and Mingyu, it takes only a second before you look away. Thankfully Eva insists on blasting the TV volume to a deafening decibel.

The movement of Wonwoo’s chest, lulled by the shallow rises and falls, clarifies in the fliting light of the screen. More memories of flushed skin shuddering with ragged breaths come to the forefront. Following the curve of his throat to the arch of his jaw, you find Wonwoo already staring back from the corner of his eye.

He arches an eyebrow, challenging and curious. It demolishes whatever resolve you possess to not look away. Instead, you focus back on the movie while untangling your legs and resting them on the coffee table next to his, ankles crossing under the blanket. The sudden motion leaves the entire span of your right leg flush with his left, a comforting warmth spreading between the layers of thick fabric between..

In the haste, the top of the blanket falls down to your lap. You tug it back up swiftly, wanting the layer to conceal your next action from the rest of the world. Satisfied with re-arranganged fabric, your hand doesn’t return to its previous home in your lap. Instead, it rests in the small stretch of space between you and Wonwoo, allowing your shoulders to brush lightly and her fingers to ghost along his thigh.

The heat of his sideways gaze continues to heat your cheeks despite your attempt at playing oblivious. Shifting closer, you pause; Wonwoo doesn’t take the opportunity to move away. Instead, he presses back. Some twisted part inside your mind relishes in victory.

Wonwoo’s left arm slouches down from its place on top of the cushion, joining yours in the space under the camouflage of the blanket. The back of your hands timidly brush before he extends his arm. It's sweet for a moment; shy and coy. But Wonwoo doesn’t allow you to sink into the gesture because his hand rests on top of your thigh and squeezes.

Thankfully you’re far enough back that no one can see unless they turn their neck so far it almost snaps off. Even then, the thick fabric of the blanket doesn’t give away what's happening underneath. The only clues are your labored breath and the shit eating grin threatening to split Wonwoo’s lips. The two couples on either side of the room are in far more compromising positions but with Wonwoo’s hand so high on your leg, you might as well be nude.

Calloused fingertips begin tracing across the inside of your thigh, just above your knee. Without thinking, your ankles uncross, letting your legs part slightly to grant him more space. A wince escapes between Wonwoo’s teeth from your nails digging into his own thigh.

Wonwoo’s hands are lazy in their journey upwards. Fingers massaging firmly against the supple skin, pulling at the flesh with a fraction of the intensity he’s capable of. His thumb kneads into cords of muscle, working out the knots he detects along the way. When he grazes the edge of the large bruise, you stiffen.

Most of the hickies he gifted that night healed, some already disappearing completely. The one he’s prodding now stubbornly remained, much to your mortification. With the irritated skin still sore to the touch, you were constantly reminded of its presence each time you moved. In your peripheral, Wonwoo turns his head. A downward twitch of your jaw motions for him to continue.

The scene on the TV is almost pitch black, throwing the room into a similar darkness. Wonwoo makes use of the cover and creeps his hand past the waistband of your sweats. He lets his palm rest against the lower part of your stomach, the pleasant warmth seeping in, soothing the nerves. The respite is short lived when his long middle finger traces along the elastic of your panties, teasing the skin under the band.

Sweat blooms on your brow and your breath grows stunted. It's embarrassing how worked up he has you. Barely twenty minutes into the movie, less than five of Wonwoo’s touch and yet the distinct wetness between your legs swells. But rather than relief, Wonwoo waits. And he waits. And he waits.

What is he waiting for? You think.

Eventually the movie will end, signaling your friends to get up. The second any of them spared a glance at your corner of the room everything will become clear and exactly what takes place under the blanket will become easily decipherable.

But there is nothing you can do to make Wonwoo’s hand dip lower and feel the dampness he spurred. Attempting to distract yourself from suffering, you switch focus on controlling your breath. Counting slowly to four while inhaling, holding for another four, and then exhaling in the same measure. Even your hand on Wonwoo’s thigh follows the rhythm.

Mouth watering at the tense flex of the muscle under your fingers, you indulge in the visual of his room again. This time, he’s in nothing but his sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. Red nail marks marr his chest and his hair is wild. You’re perched in his lap, completely naked and grinding against the evident bulge, dripping a wet spot on to the gray fabric. Wonwoo would watch while you used his body to get off, his hands tearing into the sheets. Fantasy Wonwoo would beg. He’d beg to kiss you, beg to touch you. Nothing like the devil sitting next to you, forcing you to plead for every once pleasure.

Next time Wonwoo would beg. But patience was never a virtue you took pride in.

Your hand wanders higher, finding exactly what you knew you would. Everything in you fights against grinning like the cat who got the canary. Despite the fact that you haven't really touched, Wonwoo is half hard. Even more satisfying is how he strains against his pants with only a few teasing passes.

He releases a heavy sigh when you push against him a little more firmly. Breaking attention from the movie, you sneak a peek at his reaction.

Wonwoo’s features are void of emotion. No matching bead of sweat at his temple and the heat you feel on your cheeks fails to present itself on his. Not even a wrinkle across his forehead. He almost looks…bored. It's a stark contrast to what you can feel under her palm.

But then you look closer and discover a discrete clench of his jaw and the minute flare of his nostrils. A glimpse at his neck highlights the stiff muscles, taunt like he’s fighting to break out of his own skin. You can’t stop looking. Subtle as the signs are, Wonwoo is just as much of a mess as you are. The only difference being he’s better at concealing it.

Wonwoo continues to play with the band of your underwear, content to pull the elastic and let it snap against your skin, providing no solace. It's maddening but gives you a chance to brace for his next move. He really only has two options, pull his hand away and end the game. Or push his fingers down further and indulge.

When a deafening scream blasts the TV prompts everyone to jump, he strikes. Wonwoo’s fingers wedge in the tight space between your legs. The sudden intrusion makes your thighs clench, a detrimental mistake since it forces the heel of his palm applying pressure to your clit. He wastes no time before prodding against the soaking fabric curiously. Extending his fingers downward, Wonwoo teases at your entrance through your underwear. You could cry at the relief but control yourself, lip nearly splitting from biting back a squeak. You’d sell your soul to the devil if it meant you could be alone, sitting on his lap as he talks you through it, whispering for you to be good while he stretched you over his cock again and again.

But that's impossible. So you’ll settle for this.

Your friends are none the wiser while you build each other up under the blankets. When you stuff your hand under Wonwoo’s waistband, you find out he is certainly not wearing underwear. Immediately you take advantage, letting your thumb graze against the weeping tip. The angle doesn’t allow for a smooth so you play with the head, letting catch on his slit to over and over. Each pass earns you a shudder of his stomach against the back of your forearm.

Wonwoo pushes aside the thin strip of your underwear, two fingers tracing your entrance before dipping inside, curling up to his middle knuckle. It’s hardly enough to get off but the threat of getting caught spawns more and more arousal. At this rate, your sweatpants will be sporting a wet patch if they aren’t already.

She’s so fucking wet. Wonwoo thinks, the revelation sending a shot of want straight to his cock. He curses whatever he did in a past life preventing him from hauling you into your room and burying himself inside your cunt until he passes out. The irony of the position isn’t lost on him. Wonwoo waited all week for a green light and of course you decided to give it to him in the middle of a packed room with a dozen prying eyes and ears. But he isn’t one to shy away from a challenge. If you want him to get you off under the blanket, then he’s more than happy to rise to the challenge.

Wonwoo repositions his hand, allowing his fingers to play with your clit, abandoning the shallow thrust at your entrance. When his fingernail scrapes delicately over the bundle of nerves, a whimper breaks from through your parted lips and almost blows their cover.

The movie, unlike you or Wonwoo, is at its climax. Loud screams and distorted music occupy the attention of everyone in the room. But still, you both pause, frozen and waiting for a sign someone heard. Wonwoo debates pulling away. He’d seen the film before, and while his mind struggles to remember the plot he knows there's simply not enough time left before the credits roll and the illusion is shattered.

Brain riddled with hormones and lust, Wonwoo faces an impossible choice. Call timeout and hope you’re generous enough to give him another chance. Or, he can make the most of the opportunity literally at hand and pray he’s fast enough.

He’d already waited an entire week, what was another day? And if he waited then maybe he’d get to fuck you properly, away from any onlookers. Where you can sing all the noises that drive him crazy.

The way you play with his cock makes confident he’ll get another turn; so, with herculean effort, Wonwoo extracts his hand from your underwear, moves it back on top of her thigh and gives a minute squeeze in apology. He looks down at your face, witnessing the moments of confusion. Your eyebrows knot under his scrutiny.

“Later.” He mouths, hoping you’ll accept his promise to finish what was started.

In an instant, confusion transforms into cold rage. Features smoothing, your chin tips in defiance. Wonwoo already regrets his decision, tempted to go right back to where he left off but you look like you might rip his arm off if he tries. You turn back to the movie and ignore his existence.

The hand in his pants doesn’t leave, and a chill of fear trickles down his spine. You aren’t prone to violence, but having his most prized possession in the palm of your hand, coupled with the sinister coldness on your face doesn’t inspire any faith that he’ll walk away unscathed.

Wonwoo isn’t sure how much time passes before you act. Seconds drag on, forcing him on the edge of his seat with anticipation. The knee closest to him bends, your foot resting on the end of the cushion, providing a tent of space over his lap. A decisive twist of her wrist catches him off guard. The space between his lap and the blanket hides the rough fists of his cock with their friends only feet away. The motion steals his breath; the way you use the slick to slide across his shaft, squeezing tightly to the point stars float in his vision.

With embarrassing swiftness, he’s close. Teeth pinching at his lip barely prevent the grunts building in his chest; praises for the devil next to him dying on the tip of his tongue. Wonwoo’s hips threaten to cant up, matching the rhythm of your hand with his thrusts. The warning signs of his end sizzle through his veins, the fuzzy snaps of pleasure racing up his spine.

Wonwoo takes one last glance at your face, finding he’s already being watched. His eyes scan the mischievous smirk on your lips and realizes a second too late that he fell right into a trap. Without warning, your hand stills.

You smile sweetly as your hand slips out of his pants, snaking it into the bottom of his sweatshirt to wipe the mess of cum against his stomach. When your hand leaves his body and returns to your own lap, Wonwoo he’s been punched in the gut.

He has no time to ponder what the hell just happened because the credits roll and Amina is already up and moving towards the lights. Wonwoo rubs his eyes, thinking about anything that will make his hard-on deflate before he has to stand up. Cold showers, old neighbors morning sex routine, getting hit with a car… he repeats like a mantra.

On his left, you hop up, all but skipping down the hall and into the darkness. Wonwoo wants to chase and finish whatever the hell just happened given that his cock is soft enough he can tuck it up in his waistband. But his phone buzzes before he can. The screen lights up with a new message from the minx herself.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

The next morning, Wonwoo wakes with utter disbelief at his life. Your texts into his skull.

Y/N (lisa roommate): maybe next time :)

Wonwoo: Next time?

Y/N (lisa roommate): you can think of this while you wait

The photo haunted him in his sleep. He stared at it for so long he’s sure he could draw the details from memory.

On your knees facing away from the mirror, your ass is on full display. Wonwoo doesn’t know it is better or worse that you’re lent forward with a lewd curve to your spine. Better because he can see everything. Worse because he received it minutes after you fled to your room, which means the wet cling of your panties to your folds was his doing.

More effective than the picture is the fact you were all but twenty feet away in the privacy of your room, taking nudes while he pretended everything was normal. The entire time he helped tidy up, the walk back to his apartment, and long before he fell asleep, Wonwoo wondered if you were touching yourself. He wanted to ask; ask if you were thinking about him while you did it and if you weren’t, could he give you something to think about?

But every time he opened the thread to message you his finger refused to type. Wonwoo remembered what it was like to have you on your knees. He hadn’t stopped thinking about it. But now he has an idea what you look like from the back and it might end his life.

Instead of spending the night with the subject of his desires, Wonwoo found himself the subject of torture. Lisa came back to their apartment so the couple could leave first thing in the morning to some rural bed and breakfast outside the city to celebrate their anniversary. Apparently, they decided to start their celebration early. Hours of Lisa and Mingyu going at it across the hall stretched on with no end in sight.

Their usual antics would piss Wonwoo off but he’d deal with it. However, last night it only reminded him how much he is not getting laid and he has no one to blame but himself. Crushing a pillow over his head, Wonwoo attempted to make up for the sleep he is already desperately missing.

His efforts were hopeless. Barely five minutes passed before he turned fitful, tossing and turning without finding comfort. Every trick he knows failed; counting his breath, meditation, relaxing music, turning off his phone. Nothing works. He gives up after an hour.

When dawn came, Wonwoo’s bad mood set in to plague him the rest of the day.

Sheltering down in his room, he remains hidden until he is certain Mingyu and Lisa are long gone. When he does finally leave his bed, the choke of storm clouds outside have darkened the skies to the point that if not for the clock on his phone he would think it's closer to midnight than it is to noon.

When he decides to step out to grab food, his mistake doesn’t hit him until he’s already shut the door.

Wonwoo’s keys are still on the kitchen counter. Next to his wallet. And his will to live.

Several streets over, your day is going much much better; refreshed from a full night sleep and the thought of what Wonwoo’s face looked like opening the picture.

Lisa and Amina granted clemency last night, cleaning the mess from the evening before abandoning you for the weekend. Lisa off with Mingyu while Amina joined the college friends on their annual retreat (re: party weekend at the coast). Leaving you all to your lonesome for the next two days, nothing but rest and relaxation dancing on the horizon.

The murky darkness of thunder and rain outside the window is staved off by the warm glow from the floor lamp in the corner of the living room and the dancing lights of the TV as a random show whispers quietly. The warm air is clogged with the sweet smell of vanilla and bergamot from one of Amina’s large candles that rests on the coffee table. And bundle on the couch in the same blanket soiled from the night before, you doze off like a house cat.

A rogue buzzing pulls you back from the shallow slumber, eyes cracking open lazily to search for the device lost in the cushions. By the time you find it, the call has gone to voicemail. The notification on the screen means you must still be dreaming.

MISSED CALL: Wonwoo

A flash of panic tightens your chest. A million thoughts race by, all regarding what could prompt Wonwoo to call you. He doesn’t call you. In the year and a half you’ve known each other there isn’t a single instance of it. The complete uncharacteristic nature of it has you calling him back before giving it a second thought.

“Are you home?” Snaps through the speaker after the first ring.

He sounds pissed. It’s not the usual sarcastic lit that graces his interactions. It’s dry and pointed and already grating your nerves.

“Well, hello to you.” You sneer back.

“Hi.” He deadpans. You can feel the eye roll through the phone. “Are you home?”

“Why?”

It’s 9pm on a Saturday night and both your roommates are out… of course you’re home.

“I’m locked out and I know Mingyu gave Lisa a copy of the key.”

“You’re locked out?” You parrot. It’s not that it’s an impossible situation, it’s just ridiculously unlucky timing.

“Good to know you’re listening.” He bites.

“Actually, come to think of it, I’m out of town.”

“Y/N…” He interrupts, voice clearly exhausted.

Normally, you would goad him until blue in the face. His stunt last night doesn’t warrant patience. But you know he’s had a week from hell too based on what Mingyu and Lisa shared.

“Yeah I’m home. But Lisa took her keys with her so I doubt the spare is here.”

“Great, just fucking great.” He erupts.

You wince, “Sorry.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond immediately. The measured cadence of his breath echoes through the line. When he finally speaks again he sounds calmer.

“Not your fault,” he murmurs. “Timing is just shit given the week I’ve had.”

“Your landlord can’t let you in?”

“Not answering his phone.”

“And Mingyu?”

“Also not answering.”

After that, words fail you. But given Wonwoo truly seems to be on the verge of a mental breakdown, you throw him a bone.

Readjusting the phone on your shoulder, your hands pick at the frayed hem of the blanket. “Look, if you want to sleep on the couch here, be my guest.”

Silence.

“If you’d rather call a locksmith go ahead.” You rush. “Just thought I’d offer.”

“If you wanted a slumber party you could have told me.”

Apparently, even poor luck can’t prevent Wonwoo from being a complete smartass.

“Have fun sleeping outside!” You croon sweetly, looking for the button to end the call.

“Wai—”

Phone locked and tossed to the floor, you burrow back into the nest of pillows and blankets. Any prior drowsiness transforms into irritation.

Less than a minute passes before your phone begins ringing once more.

It's your turn to snap at him. “What?”

The pause on the other end of the line is heavy.

“I was being an ass.”

“You’re always an ass.” You respond with a deep sigh.

“The locksmith won’t come till morning so…”

Despite your better judgment, you take pity on the poor man.

“Come over.” You concede, cringing at the implication of the phrase. Wonwoo is coming over because he’s locked out. Not for any other reason. He’s desperate and needs somewhere to crash until his landlord can let him in.

“…Thanks.”

The call ends.

Wonwoo knocks on the door twenty minutes later. You can’t believe what you see through the peephole. He’s soaked down to his skin, hair matted to his forehead despite the hood of his jacket. The chill of the hallway makes him shake like a leaf in a windstorm. When you finally open the door to face him, he’s somehow worse than he was through the glass.

If it was under any other circumstances the cling of the hoodie against his broad chest would stir something inside you. But Wonwoo has never looked so… pitiful.

“Oh my god,” You manage, choking on laughter.

“Are we just gonna stand here or can I come in?”

Shouldering open the door, you snicker as Wonwoo steps around. At least until he starts abandoning his wet clothes once inside.

“Wait, let me get some towels.”

Running to the bathroom, you snag whatever towels can be spared. You catch yourself in the mirror before exiting. Messy hair with an indent on your cheek from the crease of the pillow is the least of your problems. There's stain on the front of your sweater from the leftover pizza scarfed down for lunch and you aren’t wearing a bra.

It doesn’t matter considering Wonwoo looks like a drowned cat but you’re still self conscious. The best you can do is splash cold water on your face and remember he is worse off than you.

Wonwoo waits right where you left him by the door, dripping more water with each second. His bare chest glistens in the dim light. When he looks up from his phone you chuck a towel at his head.

“You can wait in the bathroom while I find some dry clothes.”

Wonwoo trudges behind as you lead him back the way you came.

Once again, he immediately unbuttons his pants without regard for your presence. Deft fingers make quick work. You remember where you are when he goes to force them down.

Wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror, “Staying to watch?”

“I’m just gonna…” You mumble, looking anywhere but at the show he puts on.

The door latch clicks just as the heavy thuds of his soaked clothes land in the sink. Leaning against the opposite wall, your head gently rests against the cool surface. A deep sigh leaves your nose.

You’ve seen Wonwoo naked. Your hand was down his pants less than twenty four hours ago. A picture of your ass lives in his text messages for Christ sake. Seeing him shirtless and wet shouldn’t have you blushing like some virgin.

Ruminating on your momentary lapse of dignity will get you nowhere so you start hunting for the collection of Seungcheol’s clothes from the bottom drawer of your dresser. A few months ago the sight would have sent you to tears. Now, it’s comical. The fleeting memory of Lisa’s bewildered face when you choked down sobs after Amina threw out your ex’s toothbrush rears its head. Crazy how things can change so quickly from hurt to nothing.

You're in and out of the bathroom in a flash, collecting wet clothes in exchange for dry ones. Thankfully, Wonwoo doesn’t jest from behind the current.

While he continues to shower, you’re busy with making the couch habitable. Knowing you can’t deal with another of Wonwoo’s uncouth comments, the blanket you previously used is exchanged for the one draped on the armchair. Rather the blanket Mingyu and Lisa sullied than the one tainted by yourselves.

Wonwoo comes down the hallway just in time, toweling at his damp hair.

“Well, this is it.” You say, avoiding eye contact. “There's a charge plugged in near the TV you're welcome to use. Um, good night.”

“Gonna make me sleep all by myself?” He plops on the couch, arms crossed behind his head. Wonwoo’s too cocky for someone who looked like he drowned on dry land twenty minutes ago.

Wonwoo’s triumphant smirk doesn’t last when you plop a heavy knitted quilt over him. He scrambles free but you’re already halfway to your bedroom.

Scoffing, you respond,“What? Are you scared of the dark?”

“If that's the excuse you need to come over here, sure. I’m terrified.”

“Awww,” you coo sarcastically. “You’ll cope.”

In the confines of your room, you manage the first deep breath of the night. You won’t be able to sleep. Not with him so close. Not when temptation is just beyond the door and down the hallway.

How dare he ask you for a favor and then act like an ass. Of course, he’d use something so unfortunate to get his dick wet.

More steam pours from your ears as you ruminate. Pacing back and forth you scoff at his audacity until it boils over and you're stomping back into the living room.

“You know I’m doing you a favor by letting you stay here.” You fume, stopping a few feet away from where the biggest pain in your ass rests. “I could have let you go to Eva and Soonyoung’s and deal with their bullshit but I didn’t.”

Wonwoo lifts on one elbow, eying you silently.

Faltering under his gaze, you continue to ramble. “How dare you ask me for a favor and then act like a pig.”

“You’re right.”

“What?” You choke.

“I’m sorry.” Wonwoo concedes.

You falter for a second in disbelief, mouth gaping over silent words. It couldn’t have been that easy.

“I shouldn’t have believed you giving me a handy meant more than it was.”

Huffing, you stop and turn back to your room. “You’re insufferable!”

“And yet, you still sent me a pic of your ass.” He snorts, collapsing back into his pillow. “Pick a lane, Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Flinging your hands in the air, you return back to your room to stew until morning.

“So that picture was all talk?” Wonwoo yells in your direction.

He wants a reaction and that's exactly what he gets. Pivoting, you storm back in front of the couch.

“Oh! I’m all talk? You’re the one who can’t even finish what he started.”

“And what did I start?” He sneers, sitting up.

You know what he’s doing. Attempting to rile you up until there's no choice but to give in. And it’s working. Wiping that stupid smirk on his face is as simple as swallowing his cock until he’s nothing more than a twitching mess. But if Wonwoo wants you, he’ll need to try harder than goading a response out of you.

Biting back you prod his chest, “Nothing worth my time, that's for damn sure.”

“Really?” Wonwoo asks, rising to his feet. “Didn’t seem that way last night.”

Chest to chest, he’s more intimidating but you won’t falter. Instead, you switch gears. Your finger skims dangerously close to the waistband of his pants.

“I’m a really, really good actress.”

A battle of wills ensues. Wonwoo stares you down, unflinching at your smirk. He’s pissed at the implication. It's clear in his body language; tense shoulders, shuddering breath.

Your fatal mistake comes when his tongue peeks out to wet his lips. The memory of what they felt like jolts an ache in your bones.

A tilt of his chin is all the invitation you need to drag his mouth to yours.

Wonwoo has you perched on his lap in an instant, legs splayed over his spread thighs and his hands pulling you forward. It's clumsy but eagerness blinds you both to anything beyond the powerful drag of your core hips against the tent in his pants.

Twisting a hand in the short hair at the base of Wonwoo’s neck, you tug hard enough to move him how you want. A throaty moan is the only response he gives, easily following your demands. But the way his large hands grab at the curve of your ass move you how he wants.

He groans into the curve of your shoulder with the next cant of your hips. “God, you’re so hot. Shit.”

Despite the chill that has creeped its way inside the apartment, you’re burning up; skin flushed and hot to touch. The hand not tangled in Wonwoo’s hair slips under his shirt, nails skating up the taunt muscles of his abdomen. His own hands echo the path, finding their way beneath your sweater.

Wonwoo lifts your sweater and swiftly drops it to the flooring, busying his hands with cradling the soft skin he’s uncovered. He leans away to break the kiss, but you manage to drag him back.

“W-Wonwoo, fuck,” you curse, clinging tighter when he breaks the contact and drops his mouth to your chest.

His teeth scrape against your collarbone, leaving you dizzy and desperate. Head in the clouds, you fold and bend as he tortures your breasts. The rough pad of his thumb leaves goosebumps in its wake, skating across your nipple until it pebbles. One reflex you twist the fist of his hair harshly when he pinches and are rewarded with a moan and rush of his cock into your covered cunt.

A hot trail of sloppy kisses sends your heart into a tailspin. Wonwoo must feel it with the way he licks and sucks your nipple; pulling until it pops out of his mouth before he leans back to repeat the motion once more.

Eventually, Wonwoo’s borrowed sweatshirt is abandoned on the floor as well but neither of you find the rush present from your previous romp. You follow when Wonwoo leans back, flat against his chest.

Hazy fatigue swells around the edges. The feeling of skin on skin, lips on lips, and roaming hands brings everything to a calming lull. Without the fog of alcohol or the threat of nosey friends, you explore each other with feather light touches that turn into gentle gropes, and hot wet kisses that transform into drags of teeth and lips. From shared exhaustion, running on nothing less than minutes of sleep and a near lethal dose of caffeine, you sluggish trapeze through the motions.

Taking advantage of the moment, you discover exactly what Wonwoo likes. When you rake a hand through his hair, nails pulling through the damp locks to scratch against his scalp, then Wonwoo shudders and sucks at your chest with more enthusiasm than before. He likes when you bite him, his hips rutting up harshly with each nip at his throat.

Each breathy sigh you release spurs him on. Melting into a needy mess, you can’t find an ounce of embarrassment; even as Wonwoo massages your cunt through your sweatpants and pathetic whimper after pathetic whimper pours from your throat.

Having his focus on you makes you crave him more. A never ending cycle of want.

“Please,” you beg. The second the word is out of your mouth, Wonwoo is ushering you towards your room.

You trip through the living room with Wonwoo’s mouth still latched to your chest. Pinned between the back of the couch and his body, he sucks until your shoulders cave and you force him from his hiding place.

“What?” he smirks into your jaw. “What do you want?” His hand sneaks its way under your pants, squeezing a palm full of your bare ass before slipping down further. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” He nips at your chin, fingers dipping into your entrance. “So messy for me.”

Your hands scramble for something to comfort from the onslaught. Wonwoo is already back between your breasts, humming around the flesh every time you shudder from his ministrations. He twists his fingers into your core, the noise loud despite the cover of your pants.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you rasps under the prod of his thumb against your clit. Rather than succumbing to the mind numbing assault, you jolt into action.

Wonwoo angles his hips just right when he realizes your aim. It’s too easy to force your hand under the fabric and find him hard and waiting just like last night. But unlike last night, you don’t have to hide. And the freedom dooms him from the start.

Anchoring one hand on his chest, you push until he’s upright. He’s a wreck; eyes half shut behind the lens of his glass and lips a delectable shade of red. You pull your hand out of his pants and lap away the evidence of his arousal, delighting in the way a vein on his neck jumps when you give them a lewd suck.

Turning, you saunter down the hallway, shedding the rest of your clothes as you go.

“Coming?” you call over your shoulder, pinning Wonwoo in place as you bend to slip off your sweatpants, flashing him the barest peak of your cunt, before continuing to your room.

You don’t hear him following until you're at the threshold. A rush of footsteps and then he’s emerging from the darkness, eyes taking in your naked form. Wonwoo looks like he’s been starving and you’re the first meals he’s about to have in years.

Wonwoo pins you to the wooden door, one hand finding your jaw while the other bats your legs wide before roughly swiping at your sensitive clit.

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear.

Two fingers tap against your lips. Without hesitation you present your tongue, lapping the digits like you would his cock. Wonwoo watches with so much heat in his gaze you can’t stop a moan from slipping free when he puts pressure on your tongue and causes you to drool. He makes to pull away but stops when you grab his wrist and force him in place.

You suck his fingers deeper, eyes never leaving his the entire time. The pressure against the inside of your cheek leaves you reeling. Pure desire inks your brain and makes you desperate.

Both unsatisfied, you let Wonwoo go. He’s quicker than you imagined. A force full grab of your jaw tugs you away from the door and into his mouth. The slide of his tongue against your own verges on pornographic but you're too busy focusing on the same fingers you’d just been sucking on splitting your folds before stretching your walls.

Slowly falling to his knees, Wonwoo shoulders under your leg until your pussy is splayed for him to enjoy. The trail of hot kisses across your hip do nothing to comfort you. Not with the swift pace of his hand.

“Are you gonna do something or just stare all night?”

The strip he licks up your core, tongue flat and heavy, makes you double over. Wonwoo remembers exactly what buttons to push to shut you up, overwhelming you with his mouth and hand buried in your cunt along with the hand continuing to tweak your nipples.

“Fuck,” you mewl. “You can do—shit—better than that.”

The raze of his teeth on your clit is punishment enough for the outburst. But Wonwoo loves to prove a point. His pace becomes slower than ever, still hard but the tempo of his hand is reserved. It makes you hot all over. Choking on air, your brain melts and bones jelly under the lashing of Wonwoo’s tongue.

Just as he finds the perfect angle, he falls back.

You snap. “What the fuck?”

He doesn’t answer. Wonwoo pulls away his hand and rises to his feet. Once nose to nose, he smiles. The sudden change is disorienting. Even more so when he leaves a gentle peck against your cheek and heads for the bed.

Perching on the bed, he leans pack on to his palms and presents his lap like a throne. “Come here,” he commands.

Scrabbling into his lap, Wonwoo catches you off guard. His hands strike across your waist as he leans back, shuffling you up his chest until your knelt over his face.

Your hands steady on your thighs, brushing his. In an uncharacteristic act of sweetness, he tangles his fingers with your own.

The gesture leaves you reeling. “Wonwoo?”

His hands curl around your thighs and force you down onto his waiting tongue. There's no build up, only hunger. Wonwoo points his tongue and uses it to trace hard circles around your clit before suck so harshly you buckle in half.

If Wonwoo minds he makes no show of it. Instead, he pins your tangled hands in place and licks deeper, tracing anywhere he can reach. Every muscle in your body jerks from the sloppy way he eats you out.

Sweat blooms on your skin. Each breath stilted and you’re drooling when cracks open an eye to take him in. The flex of his biceps when you lurches against a vulgar suck of his mouth. Even the mop of his hair buried between your thighs makes you whimper.

One hand leaves your, reaching around and pinching your ass punitively.

“Work for it,” he hums into your pussy.

Not needing to be told twice, you rock where your bodies meet. Your free hand tangles in his hair and uses the leverage to grind against his tongue. Wonwoo’s hand continues to follow the curve of your ass until he’s able to tease your entrance.

Foul noises radiate from where he works you, from his hand and your mouth. Spit and arousal smear on his cheeks and you can feel it against your thighs bracketing his head.

You want to see his face. The heat in his eyes when he’s focused on something, focused on you, making you cum. You pull Wonwoo’s hair again.

“Focus,” His muffled voice is thick and broken, like he’s getting off just as much as you are.

Whining from the vibration against your clit, tears threaten to fall from how tight you pinches your eyes shut from the onslaught.

“Wonwoo, I’m—” you sob. “Please, fuck. Please, I’m gonna cum.”

The world holds its breath. And then it shatters into a million pieces.

You’re whole and not. No more than a supernova. Whine after whine claws its way out of your lungs until you choke on them.

Wonwoo pays no mind, continuing to work you until you try and fall away. But he expects it, moving with you and staying between your thighs like you haven’t cum at all.

“Too much,” you gasp when he spits on your ruined cunt.

Flashing the pink of his tongue, he sneers your own words back with acidic sweetness. “You can do better than that.”

Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he digs in again.

It hurts. Wonwoo isn’t easing you into a second orgasm. If anything, he’s bullying it out of you.

And you take it.

“I can’t,” you plead, dipping your chin to meet his eyes and beg your case. “Too much, Woo. I—”

Wonwoo leans back and slows the three fingers buried inside you. The hand pressed to your stomach rises to cup your face, his thumb tracing the bow of your lips.

“You can.” He coos. His thumb slips into your mouth a second before he spits on your clit and uses his soiled hand to slap.

The scream ripping its way out is silenced by the digit in your mouth. Wonwoo dives back in, taking zero mercy. Your hips buck into his mouth involuntarily and the bastard laughs.

“See? You want it so bad, don’t you baby?”

His thumb pops from your mouth but not before you manage a quick nip. The look on Wonwoo’s face tells you it was the wrong answer to his question.

Your breath falters when the faintest amount of pressure ghosts along your throat, waiting for your okay before committing.

Spreading your legs wider and tucking your hands behind your knees, you nod, “I want it.”

Pupils blown wide, Wonwoo goes rigid before exploding into a frenzy.

He sucks your folds into his mouth, hastily laving you in his spit before forcing another finger inside your tight hole.

“C’mon, you can do it for me. Give me one more.” He demands while coming up for a breath. “Such a fucking mess for me.”

Your hips snap harshly, nails digging into his wrist resting on your chest. “Oh my god, oh my god!”

Feet planting onto the mattress, you rock against his face with more force than before. A cacophony of vulgar squelches and desperate whines fill the room. He squeezes until stars dot your vision from the lack of blood flow only to release with a rush of lightheaded bliss. Using your hands to tug at your sore nipples, you finally give Wonwoo what he wants.

“W-Wonwoo, so good.” You pant.

He cleans up the mess the same way he made it but with a gentler touch. It doesn’t stop the quivers of overstimulation from wrecking your nerves but he whispers an apology for each one and rubs it into the crease of your thigh when you wince.

With a final peck to your clit, he releases you.

Wonwoo’s chest heaves, eyes drooping in lust or fatigue, you don’t know. Maybe both. When he rises from his spot between your legs, you scramble for his face. Mouths meet in a slow kiss, nothing more than a languid press against one another and a few deep breaths. You taste yourself but ignore it. You’re too tired, too sated, to care.

You try and palm his cock, eager to return the favor but Wonwoo shifts away. He crowds you up to the pillows, pulls you into his chest, and sends you off to sleep with his lips against your forehead.

You simply lay there, curled around one another until sleep claims you.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @lovelyhachi

Series Taglist: @aaniag @sdoulc @wonvsmile @jeonwonwooscutie @wonrangwoo @winterbeartaehyungbestboy @yogurttea @4cheezflatbred @fragmentof-indifference @p-dwiddle @icedearlgreytea @cottoncheol @hoshiskimchi @listxn @kwonshiho @kyeomofhearts @beananacake

#ksmutsociety #kvanity #svthub #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo smut #wonwoo #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt fanfic #svt smut #🫡 highvern

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inuyashaluver · 4 months

Note

can you write something for esme morgan please?

arts and crafts - esme morgan

esme morgan x reader

description: in which everyone in the woso community love that you and your girlfriend are an arts and crafts couple

warnings: fluffy es as usual

a/n: our sweet es! thank you for the request! enjoyyyyy❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, esme, met on the arts and crafts table at the lioness youth camp. no one in the team wanted anything to do with it except for you and esme, as soon as it was spotted, you both raced for it.

the two of you just knew each other as teammates, but the time spent at that table grew your bond, escalating in a quick friendship. esme loved to make bracelets and other little crafts while you loved to draw and crochet.

everytime you and esme were at that table, it was peaceful, the two of you lost in your own little world. as time went on, the two of you separately had epiphanies surrounding your feelings for each other, causing hopeless pining for years.

and so, through the encouragement of your teammates, you and esme began to date after 5 years of you being the pining best friends. you confessed to the girl on the bus when you drew her a picture of two little stick figures holding hands with multiple pink and red hearts surrounding them. under, you wrote ‘be my girlfriend? please?’ with two check boxes labelled ‘yes’ and ‘no’. when you placed the folded paper in her hands, you watched as her face contorted from a confused expression into an elated one.

she looks at you with a bright smile, “can i have a pen, please” your eyes widen, the one thing you forgot. “oh, es, i don’t have one” you begin to frantically look through your bag, how could you forget a pen? esme watches your panicked expression, placing a hand on your knee, she smiles at you reassuringly with pink cheeks, insisting that you calm down.

once you were somewhat settled and completely blushed in the face, esme stood from her seat quickly, everyone’s chatter stopping to look at the tall girl with wide eyes. “does anyone have a pen?” she exclaims, moving her head around in hopes she could find one, only to see multiple shaking heads and sorry smiles looking back at her.

“guys, this is actually important, i really need that pen” she pleads, one getting thrown to the back of her head from the front of the bus, she smiles brightly and picks it up, “thank you so much!” she quickly sits down, smiling at you cheekily before taking the paper in her hands, ready to check the box.

suddenly, esme looks at you offendedly, “well turn around (y/n/n)!” you can’t help but smile at her, nodding and turning your head to look outside, you were playing with your hands, incredibly nervous for the blonde’s response. after about two seconds, she gently slips the paper into your hand and you turn towards her, she smiles at you expectantly, giving you a cheeky shrug.

you let out a giggle, gently opening the paper and letting out a big smile. she had checked ‘yes’, you look up at her with love struck eyes, the brightest grin on your face, you pull her into a tight hug, difficult in your sitting position on the bus but you both didn’t mind.

she pulls you close to her with a giggle, humming into your neck as she hides her face there, your breath hitches when her lips lightly graze the point where your neck meets your shoulder. “my lovely girl,” she starts, “why would you even give a ‘no’ option” you pull away from her so you could make eye contact. her eyes were filled with so much love, looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars in the sky.

“because i thought you’d say no” you look down at your lap, fiddling with your hands again until she grasps them in hers, pulling them into her lap. “baby, you’re my dream girl, you always have been, i would never say no to you” she smiles, moving to press a sweet kiss on your cheek, giggling when it grows warm under her touch. “you’re my dream girl, es” you whisper, returning the peck on her own cheek.

you both look at each other with bright smiles until you hear some sniffling coming from the seats behind you, turning to see niamh and lauren hemp crying behind you. you both look at them with wide eyes, “why are you crying?” you laugh, your own eyes filling up with tears, “you guys are so cute, took you long enough” niamh lets out a wet laugh, quickly wiping a stray tear on her cheek.

you can’t help but join her, tears falling from your eyes but esme is quick to wipe them away with her thumbs, you smile up at her and she looks at you tearfully. “so cute” lauren added, her eyes flickering between the two of you as you smile at each other cheekily.

—

and so, the rest is history, you and esme had been dating for three years, playing with each other at manchester city and england. you moved in to her house and lived a life full of love and happiness. the two of you had gotten called up for the world cup, both of you were so happy - representing your country, with your girlfriend beside you, what more could you want?

when you and esme walked hand and hand into the world cup base camp for the first time, you were confused by multiple teammates sending you mischievous looks, you had been the last ones to walk in the room. “what is it?” you question, gripping esme's hand a little tighter, she instinctively pulls you closer towards her, the media staff were filming you in the corner of your eye and you and esme were deeply confused.

until you see it, there stood an arts and crafts table, abundant with numerous projects to complete. everyone laughs at you and esme’s bright eyes, you look at each other with big smiles before you run towards the table, the girl yelping as she trailed after you.

“like old times, baby” you coo, looking up at her with a nostalgic grin. both of you were currently transported back in time, both of you not even 16 when you sat at that table with curious eyes, mindlessly chatting and crafting with flushed cheeks.

“it really is, love” she smiles down at you, placing a quick, sweet kiss on your lips. it was well known by the woso community that you were an arts and crafts couple, this would surely be a popular video when it’s released, you thought.

whenever you had down time before or after training, you and esme would sit at the table and craft and chat for hours, sitting close to each other and enjoying the variety of projects.

esme was totally fixated on making bracelets, immediately making you one in the lioness colours to add to your collection from years and years of knowing each other. you react the same every time, clutching it to your chest with a grin before asking her to put it on with a kiss to her cheek.

you on the other hand would crochet, and through all your years of practice, you were extremely quick. you made your girlfriend a beanie in not even two days, due to the cold winter air in australia, she never took it off.

when requests started flooding in to esme for bracelets, she employed you as her second in command, since she’d taught you how to make bracelets years ago, you instantly agreed and joined your girlfriend in her craft.

the two of you would make bracelets to and from training, during down time, even on the planes to different cities around australia. everyone in the team loved to film the two of you, esme even making tik toks for her channel.

“hi, everyone, me and my lovely girlfriend have been making bracelets for our lioness teammates, so watch our series of how we made them!” esme smiles at her phone, you grab her arm and run your hands over it in attempts to keep her warm. she smiles down appreciatively at you and you smile shyly, kissing her cheek and resting your head on her shoulder.

the whole interaction caught on camera, the two of you would never live the simp allegations down but you both didn’t care. the videos were blowing up, many people wanting more of the series and more content of you and esme being absolute cuties.

everyone found it incredibly endearing that you and esme still had a love and passion for your arts and crafts, many of your teammates also feeling that sense of nostalgia when either you or esme would place a carefully crafted bracelet in their hands.

you had made one for esme, all her favourite colours, you had made it so carefully, wanting her to have the most perfect bracelet ever. though, you had secretly been learning a new method of bracelets, one constructed of hearts, it was incredibly hard to keep a secret from your girl but you just had to.

she was sat on the bus before you after a game, waiting patiently in the aisle seat while she edited the tik tok video on her phone.

you keep your hands behind your back, grinning at her cheekily as you attempt to sneak up on her but she sensed your presence before you even got on the bus, feeling as though she could smell you anywhere. when you approach her, she smiles brightly, immediately dropping her phone to her lap and outstretching her arms out to you, gesturing for you to sit in her lap.

you quicken your pace, settling on the tops of her thighs before asking her to close her eyes. she giggles and follows your instructions, feeling you place a bracelet on her hand. immediately, you see her bright grin gracing her features as you carefully tie it around her arm, finishing it off with a quick kiss to her jaw. “open!”

esme’s eyes widen and immediately turn into crescent moons, smiling so brightly at your heart bracelet. “woah! baby! i didn’t teach you this, it’s amazing, i love it!” she rushes out, moving her hand up to cradle your face affectionately, giving you a loving kiss on your nose. “i learnt it in secret” you whisper, the bus slowly begins to move, esme carefully moves you over to sit in your seat but keeping your legs draped over her thighs.

“my crafty girl” she grins, running her hand over your shin in a steady pattern. “do you want me to teach you, essy?” you let out a laugh at her eager nod, grabbing the sports tape from your bag and taping some strings of her choice on your leg, she uses you as a makeshift table.

you smirk when esme picks all your favourite colours from your selection, the girl had clear intentions. of course, she picks it up well, finishing in a short amount of time and presenting it to you with a big smile. you move to place a hand on her jaw and give her a kiss on her lips, intending for it to be quick but esme slips her tongue past your lips. you gasp when she gives you a light squeeze on your thigh, leaning into you until your back hit the window, kissing until you hear a clear of a throat coming from the front of you.

esme groans and pulls her lips from you, looking up to see the mischievous grins of none other than lauren and niamh, just like all those years back. “why do you two get different bracelets to us? it’s so unfair!” lauren exclaims with a teasing grin, niamh nods along to the girl’s words. “yeah i agree, why does she get all the hearts and we don’t?” niamh points at esme’s arm that was resting on your thigh.

“well, niamhy, you’re not exactly my lover, darling but i do love you” you offer her a charming grin, “but i can be” she sends you a teasing wink, esme immediately squeezing your thigh again before lifting her head up to flick niamh on the forehead. “nope! she’s all mine” esme taunts, moving to place numerous kisses on your cheek, causing the both of you to break out into giggles.

“disgustingly cute, the pair of you!” niamh laughs, pulling lauren to sit down again while the two of you giggle and whisper to each other. you both continue to make bracelets for the rest of the team, as well as the staff taking care of all of you. amongst all the chaos, you and esme always had each other to enjoy your arts and crafts with, acting as a bond tying you together. both of you need to be grateful to that arts and crafts table.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you babes, ily hempo

liked by niamhcharles17 and 44,232 others

esme.morgan: my little lover girl, she’s the cutest

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yourname: you’re the cutest

↳ esme.morgan: no you

niamhcharles17: simps

lauren_hemp: simps

lionesses: simps

mancity: simps

yourname: ENOUGH

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #woso x reader #woso imagine #esme morgan #esme morgan x reader

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koishiro · 8 months

Note

Can you make a story where the reader isn’t a dom?

a/n: 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 😔

Brat | Jungkook 방탄소년단

↳ summary: Jungkook needs to teach his little brat a lesson she’ll never forget

↳ pairing: husband!Jungkook x fem!wife!reader

↳ genre: smut

↳ cw/s: spanking, kook ties you up, unprotected sex, cumming inside, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving)

"Why won't you just admit that I'm right and you’re wrong?"

What could I say to that? When she turns into a brat, there's just no sense in arguing, because no amount of logic can possibly penetrate the pride.

I simply glared at her and stood tall. That's when I caught the hint of a wicked grin at the corner of her lips.

"Because," she continued, "There is no way that you’re right about this. I'm right and you.are.wrong"

She took a step closer to me.

"You’re being a brat," I said.

She giggled and took another step. We were less than a yard apart.

"That's got nothing to do with anything. I'm still right" That wicked grin exploded across her face and I was hooked. My heart started pounding and my mouth went wet.

"Au contraire," I said, raising one eyebrow. "That's got everything to do with it, because there's no way someone who was right would resort to being a brat. Since you’re acting like a spoiled little girl, you are most definitely in the wrong and I am right”

"Noth-ing to do with it!" She repeated followed by her sticking her tongue out at me.

"Oh yeah?" My argument had been so good a second ago, now all I had left was fourth grade?

She didn't even answer. She just shook her hips. That's when I broke.

"Come here," I said, and I grabbed her by both wrists. "Let's go to the bedroom and sort this out like adults”

"Oh no you don't," she said, but she didn't resist while I tugged her toward the stairs and led her down to the bedroom.

I took her in my arms and kissed her behind the ear causing her to squeal and try and squirm away, but I held her firm. I gave her earlobe a nibble and felt her knees buckle and her breath catch.

"Stop it!" she called out, between gasps. I let go of her ear.

"Stop it? Is that because you know I'm right?"

"No!"

She sounded defiant, but her grin was pure lust.

"Are you looking for a spanking? Is that it? Because you are acting like a total brat and you're going to get one”

I didn't wait for a response. I picked her up in my arms, my left arm behind her back, my right under her knees. She squealed again and wrapped her arms around my shoulders.

"Put me down!" she laughed.

I gently set her down on the bed, but flipped her onto her stomach and before she had her balance, then planted myself astride her ass.

Gathering her wrists in my left hand, I went into my nightstand drawer and pulled out one of my black ties. I looped the material through the slats in the headboard and soon had them tied securely around each wrist.

"Hey!" she protested. I got off her ass and stood next to her on the bed.

"Well?" I said, sternly. "Are you going to say you're sorry?"

"I'm right! You need to apologize to me”

"Mm hmm”

She watched me intently while I calmly stripped off my shirt and tossed it into the hamper. I undid my belt and pulled it swiftly through the loops. Cocking an eyebrow at her again as she bit her lip. I nodded and dropped the belt on the bed. It would be there when I needed it.

I slowly and deliberately unfastened each button of my jeans, then dropped them to the floor and stepped out of them, leaving me in my boxer shorts. I could tell she was hoping I'd pull my cock out and let her suck me until I forgot all about punishing her, but not this time. I was going to make this little brat admit that her husband was right.

She wore a sheer white lace blouse and a pair of tight blue jeans, fitting her just right.

"So," I whispered, lifting the back of her shirt slightly, "Which is it going to be? Good girl...?" I gave a kiss to top of her back, drawing a sigh from her. "Or brat?" I finished, kissing my way down to the hem of her jeans.

“You’re wrong” I put my hands on her ass cheeks and gave them a quick squeeze, just to let her know they were on my mind. I reached underneath for the snap to her jeans where she helpfully raised her hips for me.

"You know, sweetheart," I teased, as I yanked the snap open and pulled down the zipper. "You are heading for a monster spanking if you don't own up to the fact that your husband is right”

She just shook her head. I let go of her hips and she settled down on the bed again. I pulled her jeans over her hips, exposing the cute white thong with black polka dots that I had bought her for Valentine's Day. Her beautiful ass was on display, just for me.

"Up on your knees, brat," I ordered after successfully pulling off her jeans, "It's time for your spanking”

"What?" she protested. "This is so unfair!"

I forcefully lifted her hips with a strength that caught her off guard. She pulled her knees up with a gasp, ending up on all fours but with her arms stretched out before her, tethered to the headboard. The thong left her cheeks nicely exposed for the spanking I was about to deliver as I stood to her left and gave her right cheek a tender stroke. I smiled to myself: this was going to be fun.

The first spank was a quick but stinging slap to her left cheek. She jumped and a little squeak burst from her lips. I knelt on the bed and placed my left hand possessively between her shoulder blades, holding her down a little. Then I started giving her a proper spanking.

I struck her left cheek again with a loud smack! I slapped it twice more before having at her right. I slapped her right cheek twice with brisk, upward-angled strokes that produced a satisfying clap.

"Owww!" she protested when I stopped after the fifth spank. "Stop it!"

I ran my hands lightly over the skin, sending a shiver through her body.

"Stop it? Why is that, hunny?" I taunted. "Is it because I'm right?"

"No! Stop being mean. I'm right!"

"Oh, I see," I answered. She looked back at me, pleading with her eyes. I just shook my head with disappointment and spanked her right cheek again — much harder. She gasped. I struck her left cheek, swinging my hand from over my shoulder.

"Eep!" she squeaked.

I turned my body toward her feet a little more for a better angle and began raining blows down on her ass. I spanked her hard, targeting different parts of her butt until both cheeks were bright red. She cried out with every slap — and especially loudly when I smacked the sensitive junction where ass met leg.

I stopped abruptly, panting from the exertion.

"Ow ow ow!" she said. Her eyes were watery. "That’s not fair!"

I scooted over behind her and planted soft kisses on the burning red skin. She gave a little sigh, but continued to protest her mistreatment. "I'm not wrong, really I'm not. Please stop. I'm sorry..."

I liked her attempt at an apology, short of the mark though it was, so I needed to give her a bit of a reward before her punishment resumed. I took hold of the sides of her thong and tugged it down over her hips, pulling it down her legs, up and over her feet and tossed it across the room. I knelt between her legs and nudged her knees apart a bit.

"Please don't punish me any more," she begged. "It's not fair”

"I know it's not fair, but you need to admit that your I’m right" I slid my hand along the backs of her thighs until it reached the underside of her ass. I pushed slowly forward until my fingers found the soft skin of her labia.

She gasped and opened her legs slightly wider. "You know what’ll happen when you admit that I'm right and you're wrong," I teased, letting my fingertips glide along her lips. "I'll touch you so nice, hun. I'll make you feel so good. I'll give you such a reward, baby. All you have to do is say 'I'm wrong. My husband is right”

She made no answer; she just sighed and rotated her hips a little against my hand while I massaged her. The lips were swollen and parted easily when I probed with two fingertips. I felt her inner lips and the entrance to her cunt, wet and ready. She gave the cutest moan — the one that always makes me fall in love with her again. I couldn't resist feeling her, stiff and ready to be touched. But she still hadn't said the magic words.

"What do you say, baby? Is your husband right?"

"I mean," she sighed. "There are all kinds of ways to look at things, right? So maybe you're kind of right”

I stopped moving, scowling at her when she looked back over her shoulder to see my reaction. She didn't soften — she hardened.

"But I'm not wrong. I'm totally not wrong!"

"Admit you were wrong, baby” I commanded.

"Never!" she playfully defied.

I withdrew my hand from her pussy and placed both hands firmly on her ass.

"Then you need more discipline hm?”

I reached behind me and took ahold of my belt. If she was going to continue to be stubborn, I was ready to take it to the next level.

I folded the belt in half and gave a soft swing at the back of her right thigh. It struck with a bit more force than I'd intended and a CRACK reverberated around the bedroom. My wife cried out, "Ow!" I let my arms follow through, then reversed and backhanded her left thigh. CRACK! She twitched and pulled her legs up under her body, seeking cover for them. I scooted back a bit and then swung the belt swiftly onto each cheek of her ass.

"Please!" she called, after the four swats of the belt, but that was all.

I dropped the belt and stood up beside her head. She looked up at me with watery eyes. I slowly slid my boxers to the floor.

"Please what?" I teased, as I stroked my cock to fullness, inches from her lips.

"Please, no more of the belt”

"Do you promise to be good?"

"Yes, I'll be a good girl for you Kook, so good!”

My cock swelled in my hand. I leaned forward and she slipped her lips around it with practiced ease. Oh that felt good. She sucked on my cock with slight difficulty considering her hands were still tied. My left hand went to the back of her head, my right drifted down to caress her red ass.

"Yes, baby," I cooed. "Suck my cock the way you always do”

"Mmmm," she moaned on my dick.

I quickly pulled away from her mouth and got back behind her again. I started rubbing and grinding my cock onto her dripping pussy.

"You want this, baby?" I asked, tapping the head against her displayed clit.

"Yes, baby. Please”

"Oh I want to give it to you. I want to slide this cock right into your pussy” With that, I took to working her opening in a gentle circle with my dick, pressing against the tight ring of muscles that was so ready to yield and be filled, if I applied a little more pressure. "There's just one thing you need to say, sweetheart”

"Oh please, baby. Please. I'm wrong, Kook. You're right!”

I let my hips fall forward and my cock sank into her wetness all the way to the hilt. I groaned with satisfaction: that was all I needed to hear, but she kept going.

"Oh yes, fuck your wife. Please fuck me. I was wrong, baby. Just keep fucking me”

I reached forward and yanked the straps of her binding loose. Her right hand flew down between her legs and she started playing with her clit as I fucked her.

"It's okay, baby," I panted. "Everybody makes mistakes. Now, I'm going to give you a big reward for owning up to it”

"Yes, give me my reward. Cum in my pussy, baby”

My hips were out of control. I fucked her wet pussy as hard as I could, feeling my cockhead swell like it does when I get close. She worked her clit in time with my strokes and the knowledge that she was feeling so good sent me over the edge.

"Yes, sweetie, here comes your reward. All for being so good for me. I'm gonna cum for you, baby"

The warmth of orgasmic bliss spread from my cock throughout my body, then came into sharp focus as I snapped and launched my cum deep into her. My voice gave out, shifting into short grunts in time with my sharp thrusts.

My cock pulsed and throbbed, shooting jets of cum into her pussy while my hips kept working her over in a desperate, orgasmic fuck. Then, my head was too sensitive. I pushed hard, burying the last few shots as deep as I could, grunting with every spasm. My weight on her ass pushed her forward until with one last shudder, my cock slid out of her pussy.

I found myself looking for reality again as I sprawled on top of her, trying to keep my weight on her hips, not her back. The room span a bit. I suddenly realised that I had more work to do before returning to the real world.

"You're such a good girl," I cooed, praising her. "Such an obedient wife, to admit that your husband was right”

She moaned a response into her pillow. Her fingers were still busy on her clit.

"You deserve the best reward I can give you”

I sat up, then gently rolled her onto her back. She didn't take her fingers away from her clit until my lips had taken their place, wrapping solidly around the sensitive nub.

"Oh yes," she moaned.

I held her clit between my lips and teased it softly with the tip of my tongue, randomly darting all around it, looking for every possible nerve ending that needed attention.

As her passion deepened and her orgasm approached, I sensed that she needed more. I slid two fingers of my right hand deep into her pussy and fucked her gently, mixing our juices together and pushing my come deep into her body.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" I asked, going back to teasing mode and blowing cool air across her clitoris.

"Oh yes, I'm a good girl."

"Good. Now be a good girl and cum for me”

I attacked her with my lips again, fucking her hard with my fingers and applying pressure to the root of her clit. She lifted the backs of her legs off the bed as her body tensed up.

"Good girl," I mumbled into her clit, between licks, “cum for me baby”

And with that, she cried out and came. Her legs snapped tight around my head. I held her clit firmly between my lips and rode her, pushing my fingers deep into her cunt and relishing the steady throbbing of her orgasm. One, two, three, four times her strong muscles gripped me, then her hips fell to the mattress and she collapsed in satisfaction.

I gently pulled my fingers from her pussy and climbed up next to her, wrapping her in my arms. I had to squirm a bit to arrange things so that my still-dripping dick was pointed at our sheets, not her thigh, but then I was able to tug a blanket over our bodies as we settled down.

"You are the best wife in the world," I whispered in her ear.

"You're right," she sighed.

— 𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘰 𝘹𝘰

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 8 months

Note

i absolutely love the prompt you have "I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night" cause major swiftie and I will only read that like she says it in stay stay stay so can you pretty please to conrad x reader with that prompt when you get the chance tysm take ur time

Silly little one I forgot I started writing a week ago

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The best relationship advice your mother ever gave to you was that you should never leave a fight unresolved or go to bed mad at each other. You and Conrad had been pretty good at doing that…until last night.

To be fair, the whole situation had everyone on edge.

After his exam, you and Conrad emptied his dorm and hit the road. He had slept less than five hours last night so you kindly offered to drive while he caught up on sleep. Everything was going well, until you accidentally took a wrong turn and ended up in a totally different place. You tried to get back on the right road, but panicked when you couldn’t figure a way…then Conrad woke up, grumpy and still tired, and started criticizing your driving skills.

To add to the situation, rain and thunder decided to join you. A little rain and thunder didn’t scare Conrad, but they decided to close the highway, forcing the two of you to stay at a motel for the night.

You showered and changed out of your wet clothes, while Conrad did his own thing. When you came out, he was there, in his pajamas, taking out extra blankets from the closet and setting them on the floor.

Getting what he was doing, you stopped him. ‘’You’re not sleeping on the floor. Don’t be ridiculous.’’

You had a fight, but you weren’t that mad at him. He just struck a nerve.

Conrad's tired eyes met yours, but he didn’t say anything as he moved his pillow to the bed. He drew back the covers and laid down, his back turned to you.

A knot formed in your stomach, hurt, and you turned off the lamp, plunging the room in the dark without exchanges of ‘goodnight’s. Rare were the occasions where you and Conrad were sharing a bed and alone, but instead of taking advantage of it, you were caught in an uncomfortable silence where neither of you found sleep.

You tried to close your eyes, but couldn’t. So you listened to the loud rumbles of thunder and the tapping of the rain until your eyes couldn’t stay open.

Just as you were about to fall asleep, Conrad spoke.

‘’What I said earlier, I didn’t mean it,’’ he said in the quiet of the room, knowing you weren’t asleep either. ‘’I’m sorry. You’re not the worse driver I know.’’

A tired smile twisted on your lips...and you felt yourself drifting to sleep.

When you woke up, the morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the motel room. The rain from last night had finally subsided, meaning you’ll be able to get back on the road and go home.

Beside you, Conrad was still sleeping. You watched him for a moment, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the way his dark hair fell over his forehead. It might sound dumb, but you missed him.

You heard a muffled groan, getting excited as Conrad slowly stirred. His eyes blinked open, struggling to adjust to the daylight coming from the window, and you chuckled. You didn’t think of drawing the curtains all the way last night.

‘’Morning,’’ you greeted with a soft smile, brushing hair from his face.

"I'm pretty sure we almost broke up last night," he said, his voice a little deeper from sleep.

You rolled your eyes. ‘’You’re exaggerating.’’

Conrad sighed, looking up at the stucco ceiling. ‘’We had this big fight over something so stupid—’’

‘’Real relationships are not perfect, Con. Even the ones who seem perfect aren’t. They fight with their partners and that’s totally normal. We’re not gonna break up because I didn’t pay enough attention and took a wrong turn. That’s ridiculous.’’

There was a silent pause, then Conrad laughed.

—

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#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher fanfic #tsitp #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty

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lizthewriter · 8 months

Text

general mattheo riddle headcanons ☆ミ ☆彡

• to everyone else, mattheo is an uncaring bad boy - that is his reputation, that will always be his reputation

• but deep down, he's really a sweetheart

• he loves muggle music, more than he's willing to admit; the smith's, of course, and basically anything 60s and 70s; i'd say he also really loves punk rock, like the ramones

• out of all the slytherin boys, he's closest with blaise

• he and draco are actually not as close as you'd think them to be

• if anything, i feel like mattheo knows draco, pansy, crabbe, and goyle but he's not very close with them - he is, however, close with blaise and theodore nott

• he doesn't smoke - sorry for those of you who stan bad boy!mattheo but he just doesn't

• he likes to create art - he's never shown anyone, not even blaise

• he particularly likes to go out late at night to various parts of the grounds and draw what he sees - the black lake, near hagrid's hut, the astronomy tower, the clock tower, etc.

• he is not a morning person AT ALL, this man is a night owl

• he's actually a very nice person - very funny and sarcastic

• he doesn't have any interest in romance (that is until he meets you ofc)

• he's very smart but has no interest in academics

• he thinks he'd like to run a small shop somewhere

• he loves the quiet, but won't spend time in the library so people don't think he's some kind of nerd

• he likes scented candles and keeps some in his dorm - hides them from the others

• once, they found a candle in the room when mattheo forgot to put it away but it was on blaise's desk - blaise dealt with the teasing from the others for mattheo

• professor mcgonagall has a soft spot for him

• he thinks quidditch is stupid

• not really a sweet tooth or a big foodie

• doesn't really like parties either - like i said, he likes the quiet and only goes for blaise's sake

• the only class he actually loves is history of magic - he finds it kind of fascinating - shhhh don't tell anyone

• likes to go out on walks - at night though, that's the best time

• reads poetry, don't tell anyone I said that either

• he basically loves literature, poetry, music, solace, and the stars

• pretends he doesn't care about his friends that much but if you actually look close, he really loves them and does a lot of things for them

• he's not that talkative, so he usually listens and is very observant

• his favorite season is winter and he stays for the winter holidays each year

• he loves to explore the castle, especially during this time

• when he does fall in love with someone, he makes it plainly obvious to them and only them

• he'll flirt with you, no shame

• the most romantic shit and you don't even know him very well

• but once your his, then EVERYONE will know

• if someone else tries to touch you, he will go balls on that person

• he'll annihilate them

• yeah, he's a bit possessive

• no one can understand why you like him cause he seems like such an arse, but he's actually a sweetheart

• his love languages are physical touch and gift-giving

• expect small little gifts EVERYWHERE - he will hide this shit in your robes, your textbooks and parchment scrolls, in your pillowcase and on your desk

• he also ALWAYS has to be touching you somehow - hand on your waist, holding your pinky, brushing against his shoulder, arm swung around your shoulder, etc.

• not very into kissing in public - no, that's personal and just for you and him

• hopeless romantic, i don't make the rules babes 🤷‍♀️

• he loves teasing you and getting you all flustered

• will take you on dates to hogsmeade

• will never step foot inside madame puddifoot's

• and also late night dates - sneaking into different places like the library, the astronomy tower, and various places that have a good view of the grounds

• he doesn't like letting you do anything - by this i mean, he opens doors for you, if you drop something, he'll pick it up he'll carry your books and school bag, etc.

• expect to become best friends with blaise

• there's no way around it - mattheo and blaise are a package, you get one, you get the other

• abandonment issues, daddy issues, mommy issues-

• he overthinks a bit, so sometimes he needs reassurance that you're not going to leave him

• while he's constantly showering you with affection and praises, he needs his fair share too

• don't neglect your boy mattheo

• no one puts baby in a corner

Thank you all for reading! Be sure to like, reblog, and comment! I really appreciate it ^^. If you have any requests, by inbox is open but make sure to check the list of characters I write for here. If you want to be tagged in any upcoming fics/headcanons of mine, let me know. If you want to see more from me, go ahead and check out my masterlist here!

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #blaise zabini #slytherin boys #mattheo riddle headcanons #mattheo riddle headcanon #harry potter #romance #Hp #my fic #my writing #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #hp fanfcition #hp fanfic #— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]

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todayisafridaynight · 1 year

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rgg was real for insinuating treasurers are batshit insane

#snap chats #dangerous combo i was thinking about mine this morning but i also opened my canvas and forgot i had plans to draw jo yesterday #and im not mustering the will to make the post ive wanted to make for months in that I Think They'd Get Along #i think they should have bursts of violence together itd be a healthy team building exercise #theyd get along until mine found out jo left his baby in a locker and then i think we're watching the bloodiest beat down of the century #either that or the roast of the century. he might not be swinging but he's still doing maximum emotional damage #jo aint even denying that shit either he gonna let mine kick the shit outta him cause he knows he deserves it #but yeah very funny neither of them got proper education in economics yet they're left to manage funds #yeah i trust these *orphaned bitches to do my taxes. whats the worst that could happen #*technically jo aint an orphan hes a runaway but he still parentless im running with it #they'd both also get a stroke over aoki and daigo being an item. for one reason or another #ive compared mine to aoki but now the cursed option of comparing him to his dad #mental illness really does take you places you never wouldve imagined otherwise i need to be put down #i must draw them together but i cant think of anything.... very awful...#all i can imagine is sawashiro in goofy j-drama scenarios with the arakawas... its just too easy to imagine #esp after all ive done is watch tsutsumi in cutesy dramas and movies.... actual darlings for charas he plays. sometimes #im getting off topic ok bye

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ronwestbreeze · 7 months

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you're gonna go far | 3

pairing: jake sully x neytiri x tsu'tey x fem!human! reader summary: a scientist arrives on pandora (unwillingly) a year after the exile of the rda. now she must deal with the likes of a clan leader, a great warrior, and a thanator rider. . . word count: 8.2k warnings: depictions of depression (not too explicit)

read on ao3

The view of Pandora from the sky should’ve been amazing. Your heart should’ve leaped many times over as the Samson ship flew over many beautiful sights of nature. It should’ve finally occurred to you that you were on the planet of your dreams, that you were witnessing the life of Pandora, mask and all.

Instead, you just stared at the world as if you weren’t in your own body. Floating outside of it and looking down at yourself. It hurt that you practically didn’t recognize yourself anymore. And you wished you could blame it on your current circumstance but even before you were brought to Pandora, before your mother’s forest had withered away, you had always had this familiar feeling. This dislike of what you were becoming.

Bitter. Resentful. The child-like wonder, long gone. You hated what you saw. You hated how so easily you believed back then that your own mother would’ve abandoned you—forgotten you simply because she was on a different planet. How selfish could you have gotten?

You had been burying yourself in jealousy while your mother was already six feet below you.

In the corner of your eye, you spotted Jake flying next to the ship, on one of those winged creatures. You hadn’t noticed Norm, who sat across from you, watching your expression with a frown. You hadn’t realized he’d seen the dullness in your eyes, the exhaustion making you way older than you were. You weren’t even that old actually—but the world aged you. In a way, no one should have to experience.

“They’re called ikrans.” You dragged your eyes toward Norm who nodded his head toward the creature Jake was flying on. Both of you watched as he flew by and took to the front, leading the Samson ship. “It’s who the Na’vi bond with for life. And their way to get around. It’s a lot better than walking, I can tell you that.”

He chuckled a little while you nodded absentmindedly, barely taking in the information he was giving you.

“You’ll definitely appreciate the life here a lot more when you’re steering your avatar.” Norm added on after a pause.

Okay, he must’ve noticed your lack of interest at some point, right? Why was he so adamant to have a conversation with you? What exactly was he trying to accomplish?

Your mind spurred slowly as you finally watched him, both warily and with interest. Maybe you could take advantage of his talkative mood and gain some type of understanding here. Maybe it would help your mind focus on anything else at the moment. That always helped. Forcing your brain to hyper-fixate on something else besides your own psyche.

“Tell me about the war.” You finally said to him. Norm raised his brows, startled. “Clearly, I have no idea what exactly happened a year before I arrived. And DeVoe didn’t either, considering she thought she would win against the attack on our ship. Clearly, she forgot that a lot could happen during five years of cryosleep.”

With that, he nodded, “Yes, you’re right.” You watched his thoughtful expression turn to sorrow, as his gaze went back to the view below them.

A view you should’ve been looking at too. But for some reason, you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. It hurt too much. It would only keep reminding you…

“There used to be this place called the Kelutral.” Norm began, finally, drawing your mind back to him. Refocusing your gaze on his grim features. “It was this big tree that the Omatikaya used to call their home until the RDA destroyed it for a bunch of unobtanium that was buried beneath the tree. Basically, the rich fucks took their home away and that caused the war that led us into exiling the RDA off this planet. Jake, who was considered an outsider before, helped reunite the other clans to defeat them, Toruk Makto. Because of this title, he was accepted into the Omatikaya, despite being a Sky Person as well.”

You watched him with a frown, taking in the brief, summarized story. “So what, should I become some great warrior to impress the natives too?”

“Couldn’t hurt.” Norm shrugged with half a joking smirk but winced right after. “Don’t know if there’s a lot to choose from though.”

You scowled, not really in the mood to match his playful response, “And Sully knows what it’s like to be an outsider yet acts like a total dickhead still? Some guy.”

Norm awkwardly scratched the back of his head, “Your arrival did kind of spook us, and it happening a year after the RDA were gone too—it was just bad timing, really, Doc. I’m sure once this all cools down then Jake will, I don’t know, get his head out of his own ass and finally get it. But right now, he’s just—they’re all scared. And I can’t necessarily blame him for that either.”

Somewhere, behind all this anger, grief, and exhaustion, there was some part of you that did understand it.

But rationality was hard to come by now. Being reasonable was far from your grasp—in fact, you kicked it away out of spite. Every bit of you just wanted to embrace this anger, embrace this frustration.

You did not ask to be put here. To you, at this moment in time, that was all that mattered.

You were wronged. You were kidnapped. You weren’t responsible for what the RDA had done here—nor what your mother had accomplished on this planet. None of it had anything to do with you.

And for a brief moment, this selfishness felt right. There was no self-hatred for what you felt here. Because you were right to be pissed off at your situation. And no one was going to make you feel bad for it.

Norm didn’t. He took to being neutral. Understanding your side and the natives—which was somewhat fair. At least he didn’t completely write you off as some sort of destructive lost cause.

At some point, Jake maneuvered from the front of the ship to the side of it, gesturing for the pilot to land. You braced yourself as the Samson lowered itself to the ground, the trees flying around you from the spinning blades of the ship.

Once the ship was securely on the ground, you followed Norm off the ship just as Jake landed his winged creature—ikran—in a tree a few feet away from you. After adjusting the exopack you wore—again—Jake landed on the ground and flicked his head in the direction straight head.

“This way.”

The forest was vast and big around you. Perhaps even a bit scary if not for the natural lighting of the plants—bioluminescence—surrounding you. If your mind wasn’t so distracted, you would’ve thought it was absolutely beautiful and ethereal. Unlike anything you had seen in your life.

As you walked, many small creatures flew around you. One of them was a flying lizard which glowed along with the forest. A kenten, you remembered them from your mother’s videos. It flew around you for a bit until it moved on. For a moment, you watched it until you couldn’t see it much anymore as it flew further and further away.

You tried to will some type of amazement. Some type of awe. But nothing came to you. Nothing at all. So, you moved forward, forcing yourself to forget the flying lizard and focus on what was ahead of you.

The clan’s new home must’ve been close by since Jake decided to make them walk the rest of the way to it. Norm was still beside you, also in human form which was slightly comforting. At least you wouldn’t be the only puny creature here.

When you began spotting huts in trees, that’s when you realized you must’ve arrived. The first few practically blended in with the nature of Pandora. But as Jake led you deeper, more huts began to appear, more visible as you walked by. Natives were out and about as well. Children, women, and men alike.

Now you really felt small. Almost pathetic. Being among the Na’vi constantly reminded you of this. Even the children sometimes towered over you. The smallest one that you passed had to have reached your shoulder, and she looked young. Seven years old at least.

Jake glanced over his shoulder at the two of you every now and then, making sure that you were keeping up and that he didn’t lose his eyes on you. He wasn’t the only one watching you keenly, some of the natives did as well. Making you feel both self-conscious of yourself and rather irritated. It was like they wanted you to snap at them.

Next to you, Norm whispered. “The Tsahik, Mo’at, is pretty wise. Basically, everyone looks to her as a spiritual leader. A spokesperson. Interpreting the will of their deity, Eywa.”

“So why does she need to see me?” You questioned as Jake led the both of you to a hut, stopping just at the entrance of it.

Jake looked at you—his face still unreadable—“Wait here.” And he ducked inside. Leaving both you and Norm outside.

The scientist shifted next to you, “Probably to determine whether or not Eywa has truly chosen you.”

“Chosen me?” You repeated incredulously.

“Well, Neytiri did say that those woodspirites—atokirina—were around you earlier.”

“So?”

Norm frowned exasperatedly, “To them that means something. Which means your odds might not be looking too bad now.”

At that, you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the long curious looks sent your way by the natives. “You’re all more worried about my odds than me.”

He didn’t respond despite the question in his frown. You didn’t offer an explanation.

A minute or two later, Neytiri came out of the hut instead of Jake. She still held a thoughtful yet wary expression when looking down at you. “The Tsahik will see you now.”

Norm gave you a pat on your back, “Good luck.”

Again, not offering a response, you followed Neytiri into the hut, not before hearing Norm say behind you, “I’ll be out here if you need me—"

Inside the Tsahik’s hut, it was pretty spacious—probably because everything just looked much larger to you than it actually was. There were a lot of earthy materials—the air smelled of smoke, herbs, and spice of sorts. Unlike anything you’ve ever smelled on Earth.

A part of you expected this from a Na’vi shaman, so you didn’t observe too much of the space you were in.

Instead, you focused on your busy mind. Your walls going up to defend against any accusation attacks or insults that would be sent your way because of your species, because of your unwelcomed arrival here. Observing the unique hut wasn’t much of an option when your eyes settled on the woman at the center of it.

She was sitting on the ground, eyes focused on something in the wooden bowl she held in her four-fingered hand. She had yet to look up at you, but she didn’t tense at your presence. Not like how Jake did in the corner of your eye—whom you just now noticed standing near the entrance of the hut.

How you had missed his tall blue ass, you didn’t know.

Your mind had been too blurred and defensive as soon as you stepped in. Not realizing until then that you were standing in front of the Tsahik of the Omatikaya Clan.

Suddenly, you felt intimidated. Like the type of intimidation, you were sure you were supposed to feel while facing Jake. Only you didn’t with him.

But with her? No, there was something about her that exuded something far more powerful than some scary Marine. She hadn’t even said anything yet and you for some reason stiffened at the sight of her.

Mo’at turned her attention to you. “Come, sawtute. Sit.”

Cautiously, you came forward and sat where Mo’at pointed. Neytiri had come inside shortly after, taking the spot behind Mo’at. Watching you and her keenly. You realized while looking at both Na’vi women, how similar they were.

Jake was still standing near the entrance.

All eyes were on you.

And you truly realized then that you were alone. That, essentially, everyone was against you. The way each Na’vi eyed you carefully, as if watching for any sudden movements, the same as the first time you met both Jake and Neytiri at Hell’s Gate.

You realized that the only person who had been in your corner was gone.

It was you against Pandora.

Something suddenly pricked you, interrupting your bleak thoughts. Mo’at held a needle of sorts which was now red with your blood. You watched as she gave it a sniff and then a lick, something you would’ve cringed at if not for your and everyone else’s silent anticipation. All you could do was sit silently, spine straight and protected by steel.

Ready to fight for yourself because no one else would.

Mo’at then peered down at you, “You know who I am.”

You blinked at the question, “Norm told me, yes.”

She made a sound of content with your reply.

Another beat went by as she stared at you, “Tell me about your dying planet. Tell me why you have no interest in making our home yours like your clan.”

You stopped, staring at her in bleak surprise. That certainly wasn’t something you were prepared to answer. Again, you blinked and Mo’at stared at you expectantly.

Unsurely, you finally replied, “It’s like you said. It’s dying. I don’t know how much simpler that can get for you. Saving our home—it’s a naïve dream. That’s pretty obvious, isn’t it? Humans killed our own planet and now we want to claim another, just to fuck that one up too.”

Neytiri’s tail moved slightly behind her. In the corner of your eye, Jake stiffened—the only former human here who knew what you were talking about. Who understood what you meant, where you came from, and your position.

For some reason, that only made you angrier at him. For some reason, now he wanted to pretend that none of that happened. That you, just like the RDA, were just as bad. Without even trying to understand your side.

Mo’at raised a hand as if silencing your bitter thoughts. “I didn’t ask for ‘we’. I want to know why you aren’t following your clan’s ideas. What makes you different from the rest of those sky demons?”

Still confused and now annoyed, you respond anyway, “Because I have no interest in trying anymore.”

And you paused, remembering your mother’s songcord in the back of your pants pocket. You moved your gaze down to your hands, which were clutching your knees until your knuckles were practically shades lighter than your skin.

“Back on Earth, my mother—she believed in the hope that she could save it by starting small. Never mind the hundreds of years of wasted pollution or deforestation, she believed there was still a way to save it. So, she created the Amazon Project. There was still a small patch of land in Brazil left untouched. She took the opportunity to nurture and protect it. Since I was young, I’ve been working under her. Watching her succeed in her project. Until she passed it down to me. To care for it while she left for the Avatar Program. And I was happy to do it. I wanted to see my mother’s work flourish even if she wasn’t at my side. I did it to make her proud.”

Again, you paused, resisting the urge to reach for the songcord to distract your hands. Despite your trembling, your voice remained steady, “Five years later, RDA agents tell me she died a year into her stay there. Her forest is gone too. By fire. Deforestation. As all the others.”

Mo’at was quiet but thoughtful. Neytiri was staring at you still, her expression less wary, less—almost no severity left there. She was listening, closely. The way her ears twitched every now and then was a sure sign of it.

You couldn’t see Jake’s reaction, your gaze going back down to your hands again.

Until Mo’at finally spoke, “And now you are here. Yet you have no interest in following your clan’s path. Because you have, ‘given up’. Now I am told that we cannot escort you off this planet. So why should my people trust you to stay here—”

“I didn’t want to be here.” You were tired of saying it. Tired of fighting for your innocence here. Fighting for them to see that you too were wronged here. That you were the victim, not the monster in all of this mess.

If anyone was to blame, it was DeVoe.

But DeVoe was dead. And you were left fending for yourself.

And you were angry all over again.

“The RDA wanted me to come here and continue my mother’s work. I refused and they brought me here against my will. They tried to get me to buy into this bullshit lie that my mother wanted this, when really they were just desperate fuckers who wanted to get their hands on her work. I destroyed it. No one, not even me, could use it. And if you’re not happy with that explanation either, then do what you want with me—I don’t know how many times I have to say it. I’m not here to take anything. I’m not here to live among you and I’m not here for the Avatar Program—if killing me is all it takes for this shit to end then just get it over with already—”

You missed the way Neytiri frowned, confused by your words. You missed the way Jake winced and looked away from your smaller hunched figure. You missed the way Mo’at nearly chuckled at your words. Because it was always amusing how many didn’t realize how the Great Mother worked. Even when it happened in front of them.

The flaps of the hut entrance yanked open as two Na’vi figures stepped inside. One of them you recognized as the clan leader, Tsu’tey?—while the other was an older woman with a sling across her chest. And in that sling was a sleeping baby.

His eyes found you and his scowl worsened, “What is this?!”

“Tsu’tey,” Neytiri warned as she stood. She moved around Mo’at while saying something to him in their language.

He ignored her and looked to Mo’at, “Why is the demon here?! I already said it isn’t welcomed on our land!”

“I called her here, Olo’eyktan,” Mo’at responded simply, looking increasingly similar to Neytiri as a sort of warning appeared on her own lithe face.

Even Jake stepped forward, placing a hand on the male’s shoulder in an attempt to calm him down, “Just be calm. Mo’at—”

“We agreed the demon would be gone!” Tsu’tey snapped, now glaring at you again. You stared back impassively and for some reason that only seemed to piss him off. “And now you’ve shown her our home and endangered us all!”

Neytiri then hissed at him in their language. You watched both of them quietly go back and forth, Jake even adding input every now and then. Whatever it was they were saying, Tsu’tey didn’t look too happy about it.

“The atokirina has given us a sign.” Mo’at interrupted the three in English as she gestured to you. “Allow her to explain her intentions to the Olo’eyktan and then we can decide—”

“It is already decided.” Tsu’tey snarled. “She leaves—”

“There’s no ship we have that can send her back,” Jake informed calmly. He glanced toward you for a beat, something settling in his yellow gaze before looking back at the heated male. He continued whatever he said to try to persuade the chief in Na’vi. His use of the language wasn't as natural coming from him—which, you noted, showed he hadn’t been experienced in their language for long now.

Neytiri also grabbed and squeezed at Tsu’tey’s arm as she spoke, this time her words sounded a lot more clear instead of quick with a hiss like before. She too was trying to persuade him—or perhaps you weren’t reading their body language right. After all, you were practically the only one in the hut that didn’t speak the language. Who knew what they could’ve been saying about you—which was slightly irritating.

The nameless woman, whom you had forgotten was there until you spotted the vicious scowl she sent Jake. She was older, around the same age as Mo’at. Had to be. And she was holding that baby in her sling close to her chest, protectively almost. Like there was no way she would let the infant go, not even if someone dared to ask to hold it. Hell, you weren’t even sure if the baby even belonged to her.

But she did look eerily similar to Tsu’tey. Same scowl and all.

And the baby, despite the chaos, was still sound asleep.

There was a certain innocence at the sight. Something so pure about it.

“You claimed to have left the Sky People.” You tore your eyes away from the baby to find a restrained-looking Tsu’tey now peering down at you. “And that you do not want our home. Then what is it that you want, demon?”

Another question you weren’t prepared for. Frankly, you didn’t think they cared for what you personally wanted, even if they got over their fear of you destroying their home like the RDA had done.

Jake and Neytiri now stared at you expectantly. Neytiri’s gaze curious while Jake, as usual, was guarded.

Mo’at also watched you, keenly. Like she knew something you didn’t.

And the nameless woman continued glaring at you with pure and utter hatred.

“Since I can’t go back home. I don’t know.”

Maybe you’ll lay down next to your mother’s grave. Until you turn into a rock, keeping her company.

Tsu’tey scowled, his tail lashing behind him. “That’s not an answer.”

“Well, I don’t know what to fucking tell you. I just lost the one person I ever cared for—so yes, that’s my answer. I don’t know.” You never broke eye contact with him as you said this. Even when he leered at you for your response. There was a certain bite to your words, especially when you said, “God, it’s like you all haven’t fucking lost someone before. Sorry, if my grievance is such an inconvenience to you all.”

Jake winced at this while Neytiri lowered her head. Tsu’tey didn’t appear phased by the comment but his face noticeably grew more hostile, baring his teeth.

Unbeknownst to you, the nameless woman, Artsut, suddenly hissed in offense for her son, “Are you going to let that demon talk to you in such a way, son? You are Olo’eyktan! Put that alien in her place!”

“Be calm,” Jake warned her with a certain look that meant he was not in the mood for her and her unnecessary comments right now.

But of course, Artsut bit back, “You do not get to tell me to calm down, demon! This is your people! You brought her here, it is your fault for this!”

Jake scowled but swallowed his venomous response down his throat.

Because he knew she wasn’t wrong. His presence alone already made some of the natives uneasy. Toruk Makto or not. And he knew that it could draw more Sky People here one day, after pushing the RDA out. The inkling of vengeance they might take on him and the people never left Jake. Not even when he thought he was finally at peace.

“The Tsahik decides what to do next.” Neytiri reminded the woman with a stone look sent her way. “You do not interfere.”

She refrained from screwing her face into a scowl at the sight of Artsut holding Neteyam. But she could not deny her right to hold her grandson. Not even when it made her sick at times.

Instead of bringing attention to it, Neytiri pointed toward the entrance, “Leave. Take our son to bed. You are not needed here.”

Artsut scowled and looked at her son, “Tsu’tey! You let her dismiss me like this? Your own mother?”

Without looking away from you, Tsu’tey muttered, “Take Neteyam, mother. I will find you later.”

With a huff, Artsut raised her chin, sending you another glare as she said, “I hope you kill that demon where she sits. The Great Mother will forgive you if you at least get rid of one stain on our land.”

In the corner of your eye, the woman left finally, and whatever she had said clearly angered Neytiri and made Jake go quiet as he watched her leave with a solemn look.

“What will you do with her then, Olo’eyktan?” Mo’at questioned in English.

You still didn’t look away from Tsu’tey, almost like a silent challenge between the two of you.

Mo’at watched the both of you. All four of you.

Until someone cleared their throat.

At the sudden sound, all of you turned your attention to the hut entrance, finding Norm standing there looking just as puny as you.

“Dr. Reeds can stay at Hell’s Gate with the rest of us—she doesn’t have to be here if you don’t her here. And since she’s a scientist, Dr Patel can take her on. She’ll be out of the way.” Norm offered, carefully when he took in everyone’s different expressions. Including yours.

She’ll be out of the way.

“Thanks, Norm.” You snipped dryly.

He sent you a pointed look. You rolled your eyes but willed yourself to stay quiet. Mostly, because you didn’t care for all of this anymore. You said your peace and now you were done explaining yourself.

All you wanted to do now was sleep.

You almost missed Tsu’tey’s reply as your mind began to drift, “Away with her then. If I see the demon again, I will deal with it my way.”

There was a shudder through your body at the finality of the conversation. But you remained quiet, staring down at your hands, remnants of dirt still left on your fingernails and palms.

The world had gone too quiet, even when you halfheartedly watched everyone’s mouth move. Only for nothing to come out of it but soundless silence.

Eventually, you were allowed to follow Norm out of the hut and back into the village. Getting ready to leave for Hell’s Gate. At some point, you were floating outside of your body again.

Until Norm spoke next to you, “I think that went well. I’ll have to talk to Dr. Patel and arrange everything—but all in all, you’ll get situated just fine. Plus, you still have your avatar—hey are you okay?”

You barely heard his question or anything prior to that. Your knees buckled and your mask began to fog up from the hot tears rolling down your cheeks.

You weren’t wailing. You weren’t shouting. You just cried on the forest floor with quick breaths and a racing heart.

“Dr. Reeds?” Norm knelt down beside you. “Are you—what—”

You just shook your head and continued crying, clutching your shaky hands to your chest. Letting everything you held back in the hut slam into you like a tsunami wave. Overwhelming you. Disarming you and your walls.

“Okay,” Norm mumbled, looking around. Fortunately, you had made it far enough away from prying eyes. He then patted your back, “Okay—Okay, if it helps, I’m here for you. I won’t go anywhere, right? We’ll sit here until you’re ready, yeah?”

You didn’t get out of your bed for the first few days.

Norm showed you your new room after coming back from your visit with Mo’at. Since then, you stayed there.

Fortunately, no one came to get you. Norm only came around to drop off the food you barely ended up touching.

At some point, you realized that there was just no way you could get out of bed. Everything finally came crashing down. The anger still simmered with your situation, but at this point, there was nothing you could do about it. Even if you could go back, there was nothing waiting for you back at home.

Your mother’s songcord lied on the dresser next to the cot you slept on. Sometimes you’d stare at it and other times you’d get so angry at the sight of it that you’d throw it into one of the drawers. Leaving it there until you quietly panicked and took it back out again.

You hadn’t left the room. The world of Pandora was out there and yet you were here. You couldn’t move. Your body was stone.

And you were fine with being stone.

At least the skin would be harder to break this time.

“It is not your fault,” Tsu’tey said, pulling Jake out of his swimming thoughts—nearly drowning if not for a hand always latching onto him, keeping his body dangling above the waters.

When Jake tore his drifting gaze away from sharpening his arrow, his mate was sitting next to him, eyes soft but face set in a determined frown. As if Tsu’tey made a mission for himself. “I will not let you blame yourself for this. I do not care for my mother’s words and neither should you, tiyawn.”

In response, Jake offered a short nod, not entirely trusting himself to speak at the moment.

Guilt wasn’t a stranger to him. He would live with this until his body was buried somewhere on this planet. He would live with this guilt for the rest of his life.

For Grace. For Neytiri’s father. For Tommy.

Suppose all of this started with his twin brother. Suppose it always did.

“I will always be human,” Jake said to both himself and Tsu’tey, clutching the arrow tightly in his grasp. “That’s never going to change. And I gotta live with that.”

Tsu’tey took his hand—the one gripping the arrow—and squeezed it gently. “I know this. Neytiri knows this. Neteyam is half of you. And half of us. You have proven yourself, Jakesully. Long ago. We have not forgotten what you have done for us. What you’ve done for me.”

Jake winced and looked away.

It wasn’t selfless—saving Tsu’tey after the battle with the Sky People. He had only done it because he didn’t deserve the title. He didn’t want the title. If Tsu’tey lived, he would still be Olo’eyktan. And Jake would just be the Toruk Makto. Nothing more and nothing less.

It wasn’t selfless. It wasn’t.

There was one tablet in your room. At some point, you dragged yourself from the cot and grabbed it.

Turning it on, you searched the system for Joan Reeds.

Her video logs came up. The public ones at least. The ones you destroyed were private. Only for you to see in the end.

This video had to have been when she first arrived. Maybe a few days later.

“Log—um, wait, what day is it?” Already your mother looked frazzled as she searched around the public lab she was in. “Oh! Found it! Video log 10. Today, I got to run around in my avatar and gosh, it’s so jarring how small everyone is—or how small you are. I keep tripping over myself so Dr. Augustine has me putting in more work. Says I’m not useful if I’m always falling on my face. Jokes on her, I’m always falling on my face…I probably won’t be allowed outside of the Avatar Compound.”

Joan laughed at herself in the video. Your heart tugged at the twinkle in her eye as she kept going on and on about her week so far. You listened intently, ignoring the plate of food sitting on your dresser.

In another video, Joan steered off updates and instead took out a tablet. Showing the camera a picture of a forest.

Her forest. On Earth.

Joan was smiling brightly here, “This is the Amazon back on Earth. Or what’s left of it, still preserved under my daughter’s watch. I taught her everything she knows. My very own little shadow. You know when she was smaller, she always used to follow me around. And I mean all the time. Hence the nickname I gave her.” She paused, the smiling faltering a bit. “She doesn’t do it anymore—has a doctorate and everything. My baby’s all grown up. And so, so, talented.”

“Reeds, you’re supposed to be logging. Not crying over your baby photos again.” A voice said in the background.

Joan pouted, “I know, I know. Alright, here come the boring parts—”

“Reeds!”

“Kidding, kidding!”

The video stopped. She never did get to the boring parts.

You stared at the screen in silence. And then you replayed the video. A few more times that night.

Tsu’tey felt small whenever he went to see Mo’at.

Most times he was always accompanied by either Jake or Neytiri—sometimes both—or to bring a warrior who needed healing after a bad hunt.

But when it was just him, it was always different. It had been this way ever since he was young. She just always had this air of importance about her—royalty even. Sometimes—all the time—she was often regarded highly over the Olo’eyktan. Tsu’tey even saw her as the true ruler over the Omatikaya, even before he was named their chief.

It had gotten better, visiting her in his young adolescent years. However, that was only because of their shared grief and the loss of Sylwanin years before. It was easier to be around someone who understood. It was the same with Neytiri. The intimidation was lost because of this.

But now things have changed. Too many things.

After the war, after the battle with the Sky People, Tsu’tey didn’t remember the end result. He never saw them win. Not when he was shot down by one of the Sky People. All he remembered was falling from one of their flying ships and falling back into the arms of his home. Readily to embrace his impending death. Ready to greet Eywa.

He remembered Neytiri crying over his body. He remembered trying to make Jake the next Olo’eyktan. And then it was just darkness. Nothingness. For a moment he could’ve sworn he saw Sylwanin.

And then he woke up with Mo’at crouched over him, hard at work at his severe wounds. Wounds he was sure he would’ve died from. Should’ve died from.

Tsu’tey had lived through the war and came back with nightmares and aching scars in his wake. Sometimes wishing he had stayed asleep for good.

Then the pain would be gone. Then the strange tightness in his chest would go away. Then he wouldn’t have to keep experiencing his breath shortening and his heart racing every time the world spun just a little too much or he’d pulled himself—half a man—out of another one of his nightmares.

Then he wouldn’t have to suffer.

Then he would be at peace.

But a gentle hand always pulled him back. Lifting him out of the ocean. Keeping his head just above the waters, just enough that he could breathe.

Neteyam’s eyes held him in place and stopped his world from spinning.

The world got a little brighter because of his little boy. Because of his mates.

So, when Tsu’tey visited Mo’at on the day of one of his healing sessions, there was always something to keep his head floating above water.

Today it was Neytiri who had his hand against her cheek, running fingers down his arms softly as Mo’at massaged the healing wounds on his back and chest. Last night it was Jake, who hugged him tightly after waking up from one of his nightmares. The day before it had been Neteyam. And the day before that, it had been unintentionally you. His rage for the Sky People kept him grounded.

And tomorrow, he didn’t know what it would bring. He would just have to leave it to the Great Mother. And pray that she doesn’t want him to suffer.

Slowly, you began to eat again. And that was a start.

By the third week, you began doing little exercises in your room.

Push-ups. Sit-ups. Planks. Anything to make your mind start moving again.

It wasn’t perfect. You knew this. But you tried.

One day at a time.

Neytiri and grief were friends.

There was nothing difficult about her emotions or how she expressed herself. Neytiri felt everything. And she could not stop feeling. She could not stop understanding.

So she understood Tsu’tey when he changed after Sylwanin’s death. Neytiri had changed too.

She understood Jake when Grace had died in his arms. Her father had died in her arms too.

She did not want to understand Sky People. She did not want to feel sympathy for the people who stole everything from her. She did not wish to feel sympathy from those that stole her sister away and as if they weren’t greedy enough, took her father and her home from her as well.

And she was tired because of it. She just wanted peace. She just wanted to raise her children and be with her mates. She did not want to worry about those demons coming back and destroying her home, and her life again.

Neytiri was just so tired of it. Being stuck in this never-ending cycle of grief.

Was this the path the Great Mother wanted for her?

Was she just never meant to be happy?

“Hey.”

Neytiri perked up and turned to find Jake watching her curiously. She had forgotten where she was for a moment. In the forest with her bow and Jake. Ready to hunt.

“You here with me?” Jake asked, smiling at her.

And she returned the smile, her chest warm. “Yes.” She then gently smacked his arm, “Now focus. We need dinner for tonight.”

She was always standing at the edge of the cliff, the water staring back at her below. There was always a weight that she held onto, with such desperation. She wouldn’t dream of letting it go. She wouldn’t dream of letting them drown.

So she always held tight. She would be the tether.

The following week arrived. You managed to take a shower and finally leave your room.

Today you were just numb. And you would work with that.

Hell’s Gate was a vast place that you wanted to map out and fully explore. If this was the place you would be stationed/forced to stay at, then you needed to understand the layout.

You started at the administrative centers; passing the Operations Center and a few link rooms. Some people nodded to you in acknowledgment as you passed while others ignored your existence, being too focused on their work—which you didn’t mind.

Eventually, you made it to one of the bio labs. There, you found a few more people—which you assumed were scientists. You passed another link room—Norm mentioned these places a few times whenever he stopped by your room to try and pull you into a conversation.

You lingered there for a minute. Watching two people enter the link beds. By the time they were closed in, you moved on.

The Avatar Compound was of course the last place you visited. You ignored your mother’s old lab and sauntered toward the gardens.

There was a lot more browning than you saw before. Most of them were dead, others were on the verge of dying. It looked pathetic, really. How some of them stood limp. Nearly touching the ground.

You frowned at the sight, fingers twitching.

You moved on.

“Do you guys have a library here?”

Norm looked up at you, eyes alight with surprise at the sight of you, “Um, I don’t know anything about a library. What are you looking for exactly?”

You frowned, tucking the tablet from your room under your arm. “You worked with the former head of the Avatar Program, Grace Augustine. She has a book on the plant life here. I was wondering if this place has a copy lying around somewhere.”

“Light reading?” He asked with a raised brow.

You shrugged, “Something like that, yes.”

Norm nodded with a smile, “Well, like I said we don’t really have a library—but I actually have a copy of her book. I'm a big fan myself. I could lend it to you if you want.”

“I’d like that. Might be a while before I give it back though.”

He grinned, “I don’t mind. Knock yourself out! I’m just glad to see you walking around.” Norm sat back down at his computer with a sigh. “They’ve been sending warriors to check up on things but when I’ve been giving them the same updates, they kind of stopped coming around. So, it might be good for you—”

“Thank you, Spellman.” You nodded, as you started for the doorway leading out of the lab. “Send the book to my room whenever you can.”

Right now you were just floating out of your body. It was easier this way, you realized. And you would work with it.

The book was in your room the next day. You took it while holding your mother’s songcord and read through it. Front and back. You grabbed your tablet as you read the book again, taking notes this time around.

You organized the plants, you separated them into categories. Foods humans and Na’vi could eat. Plants that were meant for herbs and medicine. And plants to avoid altogether.

You read it for a third time to make sure you didn’t miss anything.

Finally, you went to the gardens. After examining which plants needed replacement—which was mostly the fruits and vegetables, food sources that they couldn’t afford to run out of. Hell’s Gate was living off rations, which were bound to be gone at some point. A harvesting garden would be useful.

So, you adjusted your exopack and got work.

You didn’t do too much the first day, just tore down the dead plants—which was practically the whole land of the garden. The plants themselves were big so it took most of the day. Those that could be saved were mushrooms. They hadn’t blossomed yet so you took care of it. Adding water, and new soil—you did this until the night came.

The next few days were planned accordingly. You found yourself busy foraging for fruits and vegetables in the forest surrounding the compound. Of course, you didn’t wander too far from the compound, making sure to keep track of every path you took.

It was quite big and overwhelming, the forest. Even some of the fruits you carried back were bigger than your own body. But you managed well enough to plant down some seeds. Which also took quite some time.

It wasn’t until you saw avatars running around your mind suddenly clicked.

“Spellman.” You ran up to him one day, catching him going into the bio lab. He turned as you stopped in front of him, “I have an avatar, right? How long does it take to get used to being in the body?”

Norm, who had been waiting for you to ask this very question, grinned. “Right this way, Doc.”

Frankly, it took a couple of days until you were finally used to being in your avatar body. Which unfortunately slowed your progress with the garden, but you managed in between breaks from training with the avatar body to continue planting more seeds as best as you could.

But once you could manage to stand on your own two feet in this new body, your process with your garden got a whole lot easier.

One of them was the fact that you didn’t have to wear those stupid masks anymore. Not having to worry about losing oxygen after a couple of hours was a huge plus.

Admittedly, it was strange at first. Suddenly being taller than humans, having a tail that sometimes moved without your knowledge, and then there was keeping both bodies healthy. That would be a challenge but you could deal.

After getting used to your new body, you continued tending to the garden which was making great progress. Except for the mushrooms. They just wouldn’t grow.

“Mmm.” You mumbled to yourself while tucking your tablet—a new one large enough for you to hold—under your arm. Maybe the roots were too old and weak. Maybe it was best to cut it down and start over again.

You went into the bush. The forest looked a lot different with brand-new maskless eyes. A lot more vibrant. A lot more real.

Eventually, you found the same mushrooms in the forest that were in your garden. Kneeling down, you grabbed your tablet. Studying and comparing it carefully.

Of course, the roots were a lot more greener than yours. Maybe it needed fresh soil. Or more moisture. These mushrooms were obviously different from the Earth ones, so you were a little out of your depth here. The book didn’t talk too much about mushrooms, unfortunately.

There was a quick shift in the corner of your vision—something you definitely wouldn’t have caught in your human body. Another plus with the avatar, better senses.

You looked up, your eyes locked with another pair of yellow ones.

A familiar face you hadn’t seen in a while.

Neytiri crouched down on the branch she was on, staring at you intensely.

You stood, “Come to spy on me yourself this time?”

A flicker of recognition flashed through her eyes, her head tilting as she analyzed your features. “You are the demon but different now. You are dreamwalker.”

You gave a single nod and took a moment to observe her carefully. Just as she was doing with you.

After a while, you turned away from her to focus back on the mushrooms. You knelt back down to get a better look at the roots again. The grass shifted after as a soft thud sounded next to you. A second later Neytiri’s feet appeared next to you.

“Why are you doing that?” She questioned.

“I am growing some mushrooms.” You replied simply. “Mine aren’t growing like they’re supposed to…” You then looked up at her curiously. Neytiri stared back at you with a small frown. A strange idea struck you then. “Can you look at the mushrooms back in my garden?”

Neytiri huffed, her tail swishing behind her.

You shrugged, “Or not. I’ll figure it out.”

After you secured the tablet under your arm again—you really should get yourself a bag at some point—you started back to the compound.

Surprisingly, Neytiri followed.

There weren’t a lot of avatars out today so it was practically just you and Neytiri. You found your mushrooms and knelt back down to the ground.

Behind you, you felt Neytiri looking at you. “You did all of this?”

You made a sound of confirmation without looking up from the mushrooms, “We can’t survive off just rations. Sure there’s a lot—meant for a lot—but it won’t last. Better start now than later.”

“And you intend to do it our way?”

“For the most part, yes.”

After a while, Neytiri knelt down next to you as you brought out your tablet to take notes. She tapped your arm, drawing your attention to her.

She then lowered your tablet and pointed to the semi-growing mushroom. “The sun is blocked. You need to move it. Or it won’t grow.”

You frowned. Huh, that was simple enough.

With a nod, you placed the tablet aside and dug up the roots. Neytiri watched as you moved the soil into a more sunny spot. And for the next few minutes, you planted it down with your hands. Once it was done, you looked to Neytiri expectantly.

She was studying your other plants. There wasn’t any annoyance on her face, which was a plus at least. You watched quietly as she poked and prodded at the plants until her eyes met yours. Her ears perked, her face became tight, and her tail curled behind her. She now looked both annoyed and—flustered?

You gestured to the mushrooms, “Anything else?”

Neytiri inched toward you and examined your work, “Yes. That is good.”

You nodded and stood, “Thank you for your help.” She blinked and nodded reluctantly. Then she departed.

It was progress. Your new garden. One day at a time.

Neytiri did not want to understand Sky People.

You were sad, she concluded.

While human, you had appeared dangerous, vicious-looking. Defenseless. But then again, she thought that of all humans.

In your false body, you were easier to read. Your words, as you spoke, still never matched your face. Low ears and tail. Dull, almost unfocused eyes.

Neytiri and grief were friends.

There was nothing difficult about her emotions or how she expressed herself. Neytiri felt everything. And she could not stop feeling. She could not stop understanding.

So she understood Tsu’tey when he changed after Sylwanin’s death. Neytiri had changed too.

She understood Jake when Grace had died in his arms. Her father had died in her arms too.

Unwillingly, she somehow began to understand you after the meeting with her mother. Humans were hard to read, so when she listened to your words, she also watched your face. And it was almost solemn and expressionless. Neytiri wondered if you were like Jake, locking your emotions up, not allowing yourself to feel.

Neytiri did not understand why they did that. Sky People and the way they dealt with their emotions were strange.

You were no different.

You were at the bottom of the ocean. Whatever hand tried to grasp for your body, it always slipped. And you just sunk deeper and deeper.

Until you were a forgotten shadow.

so, yes, this one is a little longer than the last two chapters, lol. i got a little carried away but i really wanted to take a look into the minds of both, jake, neytiri, and tsu'tey, just to gain a little sense as to why they act the way they do towards reader.

they are all very much soulmates. grieving in their own ways. i can't wait to write more of them.

let me know your thoughts! i love talking to y'all and reading your very kind comments!

taglist: @doggyteam2028 @slutforsmut4ever @lik0 @bigbootahjudy @innercreationflower @n7cje @celi-xxmoon @readerofallthingss @childofgod-05

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