#or he says ''yeah yeah i will help'' and then at the end of the day he makes excuses for not having it done

[pucksandpower]

Smooth-Talker

Lando Norris x press officer!Reader

Summary: in which Lando has a pick up line for every occasion

“Did it hurt?” Lando asks, leaning casually against the wall outside the McLaren garage.

You glance up from your clipboard, raising an eyebrow. “Did what hurt?”

“When you fell from heaven,” Lando says with a cheeky grin.

You roll your eyes, but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. As one of McLaren’s press officers, you’re used to Lando’s constant stream of corny pick up lines and good-natured flirting.

“You know, I think that line was old even when my grandpa used it.”

Lando clutches his chest dramatically. “Ouch, straight to the heart!”

You laugh and continue reviewing the schedule for the race weekend. Lando falls into step beside you as you start walking towards the paddock.

“But seriously,” Lando says, “You should be arrested.”

You glance over at him. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“For stealing my heart,” Lando says with a wink.

“Mhm, nice try,” you reply dryly, though you feel your cheeks flush slightly.

“Hey, are you religious?” Lando asks.

You raise an eyebrow. “Not particularly, why?”

“Cause you’re the answer to all my prayers,” Lando says earnestly.

You bite your lip to hide your smile. “That one was pretty good, not gonna lie.”

Lando pumps his fist triumphantly. “Yes! I knew you’d like that one.”

You reach the motorhome and pause, checking your watch. “Okay Casanova, I’ve got to prep for the press conference.”

“Before you go, quick question,” Lando says, gently catching your arm. “Do you have a map?”

You frown in confusion. “A map? What for?”

“Because I keep getting lost in your eyes,” Lando says softly, gazing at you.

You feel your heart skip a beat as you meet his own warm eyes. You open your mouth but no witty comeback comes out.

Lando grins and releases your arm. “I’ll see you later, Y/N.” He winks and saunters off towards the hospitality tent.

You watch him go, butterflies swirling in your stomach. You’ve always thought Lando was cute, with his curly hair and infectious smile that lights up any room. But since joining McLaren, your feelings have slowly deepened into something more. And based on his incessant flirting, you’re starting to think maybe, just maybe, he feels the same way.

Shaking your head, you refocus on the task at hand — prepping talking points for the upcoming press conference. Still, you can’t stop thinking about Lando and the way he always seems to make you blush and smile, even with his cheesy pick up lines.

Over the course of the race weekend, Lando continues his campaign of corny pick up lines and flirtatious banter. Between FP3 and qualifying, he sidles up next to you in the garage.

“You know what you would look really beautiful in?” He asks.

You glance over at him. “Hmm?”

“My arms,” Lando says with a cheeky wink.

You bite your lip, feeling your cheeks flush. “Lando, I’m trying to work here.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Lando says, though he’s clearly not sorry at all based on his impish grin.

Following qualifying, Lando scrambles out of his car after setting the fastest lap. He makes a beeline over to you through the celebrating crowd of papaya.

“Do you have a Band-Aid?” He asks urgently.

You frown, instantly concerned. “Are you bleeding? What happened?”

“No no, I’m fine,” Lando assures you. “I just scraped my knee falling for you,” he says with a roguish smile.

You cover your face with your hands to hide your blush. “Oh my god, Lando, that was terrible!” You try to look disapproving, but end up laughing.

“Worth it to see you smile,” Lando says warmly before darting off again.

On race day, you’re feeling anxious. As you pace around the paddock, you literally run into Lando.

“Whoa there!” Lando says, catching you by the shoulders. Concern flickers across his face. “You okay?”

You nod, acutely aware of his hands still resting on your shoulders. “Yeah, just nervous I guess.”

Lando rubs your arms reassuringly. “We’re gonna do great. And you know what else is great?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

“The view,” Lando says, gaze locked on you. “Pretty spectacular from where I’m standing.”

You duck your head, heart pounding. When you look back up, Lando is watching you closely. He seems to be debating saying something else. After a moment, he just squeezes your shoulder gently. “We’ve got this,” he says sincerely, before heading off to get ready for the race.

You take a deep breath, feeling bolstered by Lando’s encouragement and flirtatious comment.

The race gets underway and immediately descends into chaos. Multiple collisions on the first lap bring out the safety car. You watch anxiously from the garage as the pack circulates behind the safety car for several laps while the debris is cleared.

Finally the message comes across the radio - the race is going green again on the next lap. You glance at the screens and see Lando lining up in P3 for the restart. You cross your fingers and silently will him to have a clean restart.

The pack accelerates for the restart and manages to get through the first few corners without incident. Over the next 20 laps, Lando battles fiercely to maintain his podium position. Other drivers try to challenge him but he holds strong in P3.

With 10 laps to go, you’re on the edge of your seat watching Lando defend P3 with everything he’s got. Suddenly over the radio you hear Lando’s frustrated voice. “Something’s wrong with the car, it’s down on power.”

Your heart sinks as you listen to Lando’s increasingly concerned radio calls about the lack of power. He’s slowly losing positions as the laps tick down. By the last lap, he’s fallen from 3rd to 7th from the sudden power loss.

As Lando’s car limps across the finish line, you hurry down to meet him. He pulls off his helmet and balaclava, looking weary and disappointed.

“Lando, are you okay? What happened out there?” You ask worriedly.

“I’m fine. The car is just a bit banged up,” Lando says with a tired smile. “Not sure what happened with the engine yet though.”

You hesitate, then wrap Lando in a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re okay,” you murmur.

Lando seems surprised but hugs you back firmly. For a long moment, you stand there just holding each other, the sounds of the paddock fading away.

Finally you step back, smiling shyly up at Lando. “So, P7. Could’ve been worse I guess, considering the issues you had.”

Lando nods, scrubbing a hand through his wild curls. “Yeah, could’ve been much worse. I’ll take the points.” He smiles ruefully. “Not quite the podium I was hoping for to impress you though.”

You bite your lip. “Lando ...”

Lando rushes to fill the silence. “You know what’s on the podium of my heart?”

You sigh, though you feel your pulse quicken. “What?”

“You,” Lando says softly, gazing at you with open affection.

You stare at him, heart thumping wildly. Before you can overthink it, you grab his race suit and pull him in for a kiss. Lando makes a surprised sound before wrapping his arms around you and kissing you deeply. For a blissful moment, everything else fades away and it’s just the two of you.

When you finally break apart, you’re both slightly breathless. Lando has a dazed, elated look on his face. “Wow … so does this mean all my cheesy pick up lines finally worked?”

You laugh and smack his chest playfully. “I don’t know if I’d say they worked … but they did make it very clear someone has a crush on me.”

You smile up at Lando, enjoying the faint blush on his cheeks.

Lando grins. “Maybe just a small one,” he teases. His expression turns more serious. “I really care about you, Y/N. And I’d love to take you on a proper date, if you’d like?”

Your heart swells and you nod. “I’d really like that.”

Lando’s answering smile is bright enough to outshine the sun. He squeezes you in another quick hug. “I better go debrief about the race. But I’ll come find you after?”

You nod, giddy butterflies taking flight in your stomach. “It’s a date,” you say with a smile.

Lando heads off looking like he just won the championship, with a spring in his step and grin on his face. You brush your fingers over your still-tingling lips, scarcely able to believe that really just happened.

After Lando finishes his lengthy post-race debrief, he finds you packing up for the day in the paddock. “You ready?” He asks, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.

You can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “Ready!”

You head out of the paddock hand-in-hand, both still riding the high of finally admitting your feelings for each other.

“Sooo, what exactly did you have in mind for this date?” You ask Lando curiously.

Lando grins. “Well first, how do you feel about Ferris wheels?”

You smile slowly. “I think Ferris wheels have potential to be very romantic.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Lando says with a wink.

You spend the evening strolling around the nearby funfair, enjoying the lights and sounds. Lando wins you an oversized stuffed teddy bear playing carnival games. You share candy floss and corndogs while taking in the sights.

Finally, you hop in line for the Ferris wheel. When it’s your turn, you settle into the seat across from Lando. As the wheel lifts you into the night sky, you take in the sprawling city views.

Lando slides closer and slips his hand into yours. “Have I mentioned how beautiful you look tonight?”

You smile, loving how he still seems nervous even after kissing you earlier. “Smooth line, but I’ll allow it,” you tease gently.

Your Ferris wheel carriage reaches the top and pauses, giving you a panoramic view of the city at night. The lights twinkle like stars around you.

It’s magical.

Lando’s arm wraps around your shoulder, pulling you closer. Your heart races as you turn towards him. His eyes reflect the dazzling lights as he gazes at you. He brushes a loose strand of hair from your face, his touch igniting sparks along your skin.

As he leans in, you let your eyes flutter shut. His lips meet yours and the rest of the world fades away. Up here above the world, wrapped in Lando’s arms, you feel like you’re flying.

By the end of the night, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Lando walks you to your hotel room, fingers intertwined, reluctance slowing your steps.

Outside your door, you turn to face Lando. “Thank you for tonight, it was perfect.”

Lando smiles, tracing patterns on your palm with his thumb. “So I did alright for a first date then?”

You laugh. “You far exceeded expectations.” Your smile softens. “I’m really happy.”

“Me too,” Lando says, eyes shining. He takes a deep breath, looking uncharacteristically nervous again. “So, I was wondering … and feel free to say no obviously! But, um, I have two tickets to the Arctic Monkeys concert next weekend and was hoping maybe you’d want to ...” he trails off, biting his lip anxiously.

Your smile widens and you squeeze his hand. “I’d love to be your date to the concert.”

The answering grin that lights up Lando’s face is breathtaking. He punches the air, looking adorably excited. “Yes! This is going to be epic.”

You giggle at his antics. “Well this was a really fun first date. I can’t wait to see what other surprises you have planned.”

You lean in and kiss Lando softly. As you pull back, Lando clears his throat.

“Y/N, can I tell you something without you getting mad?”

You raise an eyebrow curiously. “Umm sure, I guess?”

Lando winces slightly. “I was wondering if you could give me directions ...”

You look confused. “Directions? To where?”

“To your heart,” Lando shoots you a cheesy grin.

You stare at him for a beat, then burst into laughter. “Oh my god, Lando, that was so corny!”

Lando just smiles unrepentantly. “Maybe, but did it work?”

You continue giggling and shake your head. “I don’t know why I find your cheesy lines so charming, but I do.”

You lean in and give him one more quick kiss. “Goodnight, Lando. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Lando’s eyes shine happily. “Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he says, squeezing your hand before slowly backing away towards the elevator.

You watch him walk down the hallway, giddy butterflies still fluttering away in your chest.

You have a feeling this is the start of something special. A lifetime of cheesy pick up lines sounds pretty damn perfect.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x y/n #mclaren #lando norris one shot #lando norris drabble

[tawaifeddiediaz]

i'm sure you do, buck

(or, top three insane things to say to your bestie bro)

[ID: three gifs of Evan Buckley and Eddie Diaz from 911 episode 7.05, in the firehouse gym. Buck is in a black shirt with black jeans, a green coat on top, while Eddie is in LAFD issued gym shorts and a T-shirt, exercising.

GIF 1: Buck gesturing aimlessly up and down Eddie's body with his fingers as he comments amusedly, "which is why you're so...pent-up."

GIF 2: Eddie bracing his hands against the edge of the bench as he lowers his body up and down to do tricep dips. He's staring determinedly off into space as he grunts out a "yeah."

GIF 3: Buck watching with clasped hands, spreading them out palms open sympathetically as he tells him, "Well, I wish I could help."

/end ID]

#zee edits #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911 on abc #911 abc #911edit #buddieedit #alielook #usernymika #oneawkwardcookie #userisha #userdahlias #userabs #usersonny #usernicolo #userrin #userriel #usermadita #tuserambs #tuserella #singinprincess #this is an insane thing to say to your bestiebro of all time #especially after an episode spent seeking his attention

[nathaslosthershit]

Long Distance (LN4)

Summary: Long distance relationships are hard, especially when they both have very time consuming careers

Warnings; Angst (a whole lot), no happy ending in this part (will happen in pt 2)

Request: hi!! requesting a lando norris x female uni!reader if possible reader being a medical student or a one of the engineers on the paddock 🧍🏻‍♀️

Lando wasn’t known for being the smartest on the grid. He, like many other drivers, had only a few years of school to his name. But that still hadn’t stopped him from being able to somehow ‘woo’ a woman quite the opposite. 

His girlfriend was currently in her last year of medical school. While he was unbelievably proud of how far she had come, the difficulties of long distance have gotten to both of them, and there wasn’t much hope once she graduated and was off to a medical training program. With her studying for finals and Lando being off to a new country every two weeks for Grand Prixs, their relationship has been rocky to say the least.

Constant lack of communication and missing each other's calls had led them to have tons of unspoken dialogue. Each unanswered call created the smallest bit of resentment that just continued to grow and grow. 

No more sweet ‘goodmorning’ or ‘goodnight’ texts, no more wishing her well before a big test, no more sending ‘good luck baby!’ before qualifying. Just a few ‘how are you doing?’ and other bland messages you’d send to a coworker, not your significant other. 

After weeks of little communication, they had finally scheduled a ‘zoom date’. Not particularly the most romantic date they had been on, but it's the best they could do with their schedules. Lando called in late at night for him while his girlfriend had a lunch break in between labs. Time zones be damned.

Lando was 25 minutes late leaving only 35 minutes to actually talk to one another.

Her wifi was spotty so it kept freezing.

Finally, with only 5 minutes left, Lando decided to make a joke that there is no reason for her to continue going to labs, as he would be happy to be her ‘sugar daddy’. This was not very well received by his girlfriend, who responded with a quick “fuck you” and hung up early.

Lando was joking, a bit. He loved his girlfriend and saw a future with her, he just couldn’t stand long distance and any job in the medical field was bound to take up most of your time. He wanted her, but he also wanted someone who could be by his side on race day. That just wasn’t something that was possibly currently. 

He supported her. He loved to brag about how smart she was and how she was so dedicated to helping people. But that came with setbacks.

After a quick message from Lando (‘I was kidding darling. You know how proud I am of you. Lighten up a little, yeah?’), which she ignored, she was off to her labs in a worse mood than before. Things couldn’t go on like this. 

He hadn’t heard from her in three days. His “how are you, love?” and “Miss you lots. Hope your class is going better than my neck training :(“ went unanswered. She knew she was being petty, but maybe a relationship was just too hard for her life currently. 

After three long and stressful days of silence, she called him. With no message asking what she needed to speak about, Lando feared he already knew.

“We can’t keep doing this” She said after they quickly exchanged a ‘hi, how are you?’ ‘I'm good, how are you?’. 

“Baby, I told you it was just a-”

“I know that Lando! It's just that this isn’t the first time you have mentioned me quitting my career to be your housewife or whatever unrealistic idea you have stuck in your head.”

“I don’t need you to be a housewife! I don’t want that for you. I just try to let you know that you don’t need to worry about your future as much because I will always be there to help you.”

“But I want a career! I want to work hard so I can have a good future. You need to get it into your head that your career isn’t the only important one.”

“I don’t think that! Me wanting to let you know that I support you no matter what isn't diminishing your career plans! It would be nice if you started to show a little more support. I am so sick and tired of all our conversations revolving around you and how your day was. If classes are rough, or you are stressed, you don’t respond to me. I never know where I land with you. But god forbid I try to mention how hard my day was. I am just as sick of it.”

She didn’t know how to respond. It seems that all the times she has been more focused on how she was feeling she completely forgot to check on how he was doing. Before she can even muster out an apology, Lando jumps back in.

“Maybe you are right. I don’t think I can do this either. Not anymore.” He feels his stomach dropping as he says the words, not fully meaning them.

There is a long silence, moments where she wants to apologize, to try and reconcile. In that moment all of the good memories of their relationship come flashing back to her, as if her mind is begging her to do something. But she doesn’t. 

“Then I guess this is it.” She finally says. 

“I guess so.”

#formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x reader

[keen-li]

MA'AM

18+

MDNI

Neighbour au. age gap au (reader is older than jk). kissing, touching, oral (female receiving), fingering, jk calls reader ''ma'am''. reader is kinda lonely, bored and untouched. p in v, no protection (be wise and condomize guys).

this is all just fiction, don't take it too seriously.

plus im stil learing to write smut, so go easy on me.

helpful and positve feedback is appreciated.

Sorry for any typos.

--

‘’oh yn,’’ you hear a familiar boy-ish voice speak.

And when you turn, your eyes are met with jungkook.

You know him cause he’s your neighbour, but you rarely speak seeing that you have nothing in common but he’s always kind and sweet whenever you bump into each other.

Like right now.

‘’jungkook’’ you say surprised to see him. ‘’how are you?’’ you give him back a smile.

You haven’t seen him in a while, he must be busy with college (you assume) or maybe he’s busy with some girlfriend. Guys his age are usually swarmed with girls. Especially seeing how attractive he is. The college girls must be having fun with him.

You admire his hair that seems to have gotten longer. You can’t help but notice how good he looks with it.

‘’i’m good, hope you’re doing well..’’ he pauses in his speech ‘’haven’t heard from you in a while. I almost thought you moved out’’

You chuckle at his assumption.

You shake your head lightly as you chuckle ‘’nope. Just busy with work’’

‘’i dont think i’d ever move out honestly’’ seeing as this apartment has a fair price for rent.

He chuckles.

‘’im glad thought i scared you away’’ he says worriedly.

‘’you’d never scare me away’’ you mumble out suddenly feeling nervous.

‘’with all those noise complaints you handed to me?’’ He says with a warm joking tone.

You can’t deny that a lot of noise comes from jungkook’s apartment, that you had to report him. You kinda feel childish for doing it, he’s a college boy anyways. All they know is noise.

‘’but i do get it. I make a lot of noise’’ he uses his pointer and middle finger to rub his lower lip, you get the chance to admire his tattooed finger and pierced lip.

You feel yourself swallow the lump in your throat and bite your lip. You don’t know why you always feel like this when talking to jungkook, maybe it’s his hovering figure, intimidating voice or piercing brown eyes. Even though his eyes give off a soft innocent look you can’t help but observe the sensuality in them.

‘’um yeah’’ you don’t know what else to say. Your eyes can barely look at jungkook while his eyes can’t stop looking at you. There’s no way a college boy can make you feel this nervous. You thought you had outgrown it.

Or maybe it’s the aloneness since your last boyfriend. It’s been quite depressive but you try and not let it eat you up.

But it’s hard when you and jungkook’s walls are as thin as paper. and can hear everything that goes on. Especially when he has a girl over.

You don’t mean to listen to what happens, but what else can you do when you’re laying in bed, bored and lonely. It seems sad you end up finding your hand in-between your thighs as you hear how jungkook pleasures.

With all the groans and name moaning you have come to the conclusion that jungkook must be a great fuck. But it’s not like you’ll ever know. Do you even want to?

You can never fuck someone younger than you right? You’ve always dated older men or at least someone the same age as you. You’ve never been with a younger guy before.

But jungkook seems like he could definitely go for an older woman.

Wait.

Does jungkook want you. He does seem to give off that vibe but maybe you’re in over your head. Jungkook wouldn’t want you there are so many better options for him. So many better girls for him. Not you.

‘’so do you like those?’’ he askes pointing to the basket you have filled with ramen noodles cups.

You chuckle embarrassed.

‘’ yeah i do but, i mainly buy them cause i don’t have time to cook’’

He nods.

‘’maybe i can come cook for you one day’’ you laugh but he’s actually serious.

‘’oh, i wouldn’t mind but i assume you’re busy with school’’ you swing the basket lightly and unconsciously.

‘’i can find time’’ he says a little rushed out.

‘’then i wouldn’t mind’’ you smile.

‘’you going home?’’ he asks.

You nod.

‘’i guess i can give you a ride home, if that’s alright with you’’

You wouldn’t mind at all.

-

The ride back home was quiet. It still baffles you to how jungkook has a car.

When you were in college you could barely find money to buy food, let alone a car.

And even with a job you can barely find money to buy or rent a car.

‘’thanks for the ride, it was nice meeting you today jungkook’’

The way you smile and say his name makes a hot flash rush through him.

If only you knew how many times his thought of you calling out his name. Sometimes he wishes it was you in his bed, toes curling and back arching.

If he got the chance, he’d show you how you deserve everything.

You don’t deserve to get yourself off and barely get off.

Did he ever say that the walls are so thin that he can hear you too.

He’s heard your frustrated moans and grunts. And all the times you cursed cause of how hard it was to get your high, sometimes his heard you cry and it breaks his heart.

He wishes he could get a chance to please you. He’s never wanted to please someone so bad.

He’s never been so desperate to get on his knees and run you dry of all your juices. To feel you claw at his back as you take him so well.

But he’s also never thought of being with an older woman.

Jungkook knows you’re older than him and he doesn’t mind. Actually he makes him want you more.

He wants you like air and if he doesn’t get you now he feels like he would stop breathing.

So if he doesn’t take this opportunity now he might never have the chance to.

‘’do you wanna, come eat ramen with me?’’

-

You don’t know how it happened. But he asked you to come over to his, you didn’t see a problem with it so you said yes.

But you don’t know how you went from laughing over some movie to grinding on his lap as your lips intertwine hungrily.

Fuck. You never thought you’d be doing this with your neighbour and fuck you never thought it would feel this good.

Your hands roam his firm chest, and your thoughts are proved right, he does like the gym. Though you could’ve known that without clawing at his chest.

These younger guys are always in the gym, like their life depends on it.

Your gasps and moans mix. You don’t know how innocent sounds of laughter turned into hot whimpers of need.

Maybe it was the stares that seemed to linger for longer than they should have.

Jungkook takes a moment to take in your face but then his lips are soon on yours again as eager as ever, and you accept them.

He kisses you with eagerness and desperation. Desperation to touch and feel you in every way.

You moan into his mouth as you feel the wetness grow between your legs. You hate how a college student, has you this hot and soaking wet.

You’re busy devouring each other’s lips but you don’t fail to recognize the tent forming and touching your centre.

Jungkook’s hands rummage over your back and over your hips and to your ass, he sqeezes your ass lightly which causes you to jumb lightly.

‘’you okay’’ he asks

‘’yeah just never had anyone squeeze my ass like that’’

That boy-ish smile of his is far gone, now a manly sexy grin paints his face. A grin like a wolf looking at a lamb as it’s next meal.

‘’you’ve never had someone touch you like that’’

You shake your head. You hate how jungkook makes you feel like a highschooler losing their virginity.

‘’who have you been fucking that doesn’t want to touch this ass’’ he squeezes your ass again, and you’re embarrassed when you release a moan at that action.

‘’i don’t know’’ your words come out more whiny than you’d like.

He moves to your neck and you move it to accustom him into the space. He places some wet and gentle kisses.

‘’i’m not like them though. I wanna touch every part of you. Wanna taste every part of you and feel you on me.’’ He kisses your neck again and the smacking sound of his lips meeting your skin causes you clench. ‘’i wanna treat you right, i wanna make you feel good’’

You don’t know how true his words are or if you can even take them seriously. Maybe it’s the lust talking. He’s a young man, he wouldn’t want to waste his days with you.

‘’don’t you have other, younger girls. You wanna make feel good.’’ You just had to ask.

The chuckles he releases causes a rush of blood to your groin.

‘’all i think about when i fuck them is you’’ he kisses you again.

You don’t want to believe him but your heart can’t help but flutter. You don’t want to get hurt again but something tells you jungkook is far from hurting you. But you can’t trust that feeling, what if that feeling is just how good it feels to be on him.

He has a great way with words and it would work on you every time, cause you haven’t grown out the naivety of your youth for some reason.

Jungkook knows when and how to say the right words which makes you scared. Which makes him dangerous. All these young boys are to slick with their words.

‘’yn, don’t think’’ he whispers against your lips. He must have noticed your distance all of a sudden.

‘’don’t think of anything but this’’ he pecks your lips.

‘’i’ll try’’ you coo.

‘’i’ll make you’’

his lips are back on yours desperately. And the sound of your lips smacking and you whimpers fills the room again.

His lips go back to licking and sucking that one spot on your neck. His mouth on your neck and hands on your hips helping you grind against his clothed crotch makes you gasp for air.

You’ve never had anyone take their time with you like this, they’re usually quick to just get it in. But not jungkook, he takes his time enjoying and tasting every part of you. Why wouldn’t he when he’s been thinking about this moment and taking cold showers to stop his natural desire for you.

Being with jungkook tells you how much you’ve been missing and how much you need to learn. It’s like going back to your college days.

‘’fuck jungkook’’ you moan when he nibbles at your neck. Your hands move from his chest to his neck then to his long hair.

You unintentionally pull at his hair and you love how he groans when you do so.

The need and ache between your legs grows strong as you grind harder on his lap. Jungkook watches how you move against him trying to find your high. He promises to give it to you but he needs to feel more of you before he does so.

You gasp when he plops you on your back onto his soft couch.

‘’jungkook...’’ you call out and he stops his action to attend to your need.

‘’yes’’ he sounds so submissive as he says so.

‘’i want you’’ your hips move up to feel some friction. He chuckles at the action.

‘’i want you too’’ he smiles as he pecks you on your forehead.

‘’no. Like i want you. Actually i fucking need you’’ you whine out. You’re probably gonna be so embarrassed later but right now you need him.

Your hand reaches for his belt but his hands stop you. You feel embarrassed and confused, you know he’s hard. You can see his fully grown bulge. But why does he want to take so much time.

‘’i wanna taste you first’’ he whispers by your ear.

Fuck. You’ve never had anyone want to eat you out. It’s been a while since anyone went down on you.

‘’jungkoo-‘’ you want to protest.

‘’please yn’’ he begs. ‘’i need it’’ his lips are against yours as he says in a whisper. His lips are on yours for a second before he leaves you wanting to taste his lips more.

You watch his body move down and you can feel your wetness drip down.

‘’fuck...’’ you hear him groan and grow a little self conscious.

‘’what?’’ you lift yourself up a bit.

‘’it’s just that you’re so fucking gorgeous’’ you can’t help but blush and feel a little weird. You’ve never had anyone ogle at you pussy like that.

‘’jungkook..’’ you call out in a whine. You can feel his breath breeze over you centre and it makes the need grow stronger.

‘’i’m sorry, im staring’’ he says and before you can tell him anything his lips are on you, hungrily.

You release a sharp moan as his lips make out with yours.

He licks a long strip of you pouring juices, your taste sinking into his tastebuds.

‘’so fucking good,’’ he groans. ‘’and so fucking wet’’ you feel his finger run through your folds.

‘’jungkook please. Fuck...’’ you don’t even know what you’re pleading for but you are.

Jungkook adheres to you unspoken cries, as he dives back into kissing you and massaging your clit.

Your hand finds it’s way to his hair and pulls. The groan he releases sends electricity through you.

You’ve never felt like this, nobody has ever put this much effort into touching you.

And jungkook has never put this much effort into eating pussy, but for you he will and he is.

He adds his fingers into you as he pumps into you.

‘’fuck you need to be fucked right’’ he says at your tightness. You can barely hear what he’s saying over at how hard he’s slurping.

With the way his digits work into you and his tongue sucks on your clit, you can feel that feeling you’ve been chasing.

‘’fuck jungkook, im going to-‘’ jungkook smiles at how you can barely finish your sentence but he knows.

The feeling grows closer and your heart races in excitement.

But then all of the sudden the feeling is gone and you’re about to curse out jungkook who’s now moving up.

‘’what the fuck, i was going to-‘’ you whine angrily.

‘’i want you to come over my cock’’

You don’t argue, he’s the one in control after all.

‘’ then please fuck me’’ all you can do is plead. It’s so embarrassing pleading for him to fuck you. You wonder if girls his age are this desperate too.

‘’yes ma’am’’ he says as he takes off his shirt, for some reason him calling you ma’am makes you more aroused.

‘’don’t call me ma’am’’ you say blushing but jungkook knows, you’re bullshitting.

‘’yes ma’am’’ he says with a cheeky grin knowing that it makes you clench around nothing.

You watch him unbuckle his belt and you’ve never seen anything this attractive.

As you watch him you anticipate how his going to feel and how you’ll wrap around him. That’s all jungkook can think about too as he strokes himself slightly, though he’s been hard since he saw you in the grocery store.

You feel his tip slide through your wet folds and you can’t help but suck in a breath. Jungkook can’t help but whimper at how wet and good you feel already.

You clench desperate to feel something inside you. You wonder if it will hurt, it’s been a while for you anyways. And he looks like he could stretch you out good. But you’re too needy to worry about that.

You gasp when you feel him move into you, slow and teasingly. His tip has you wondering if you’ll be able to take all of him.

‘’fuck you’re so good for me’’ he says as he moves in deeper. ‘’i wish i could feel you everyday’’

You can.

You want to say, but don’t wanna make promises. You don’t know if this will ever happen again.

‘’do you wanna be good for me like this everyday, yn’’ he says kissing along your jaw as he settles into you.

He doesn’t move waiting for your answer.

You hum but it’s not enough for him.

‘’yes, i want you everyday’’ you end up speaking more of your mind than you planned to.

Jungkook smiles as he slowly begins to move in and out.

‘’good. You can have me everyday’’

With the ways he rocks into you, slowly increasing speed, you understand the moans of those girls you heard him fucking.

His name falls from your mouth as he continues. Jungkook has never enjoyed being buried in heat like this. And he’s never wanted to stay in forever like he does right now.

‘’jungkook..’’ with the way your nails dig into his arm and you flutter around he knows you’re close.

But so is he. Your high is his target as he continues to stroke.

Jungkook twitches inside of you as you both reach your highs.

He lays on top of you as you breath heavily. He tries to keep his weight from crushing you.

‘’next time i wanna be on top’’ you say with the energy you’ve got left.

‘’deal. Even though i like being on top, i’ll let you ride me’’ you almost feel that feeling comeback.

You stroke his hair as you watch that boy-ish smile return on his face.

It’s like he’s changed and wasn’t the person balls deep into you seconds ago.

‘’i like this’’ you say comfortable.

‘’i like you’’ Jungkook coos into your neck.

--

#fanfic #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jeon jungguk #jungkook x y/n #bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook au #jungkook fanfic #jeon jeongguk #jungkook smut #jungkook imagine #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts jungguk #jeongguk #jeon jeongkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc

[cheoliehansolie]

The Hoodie

Summary: Wonwoo learns something interesting about you wearing his hoodies.

Word Count: ~2.8 k

Pairing: fem reader x Wonwoo

Warnings: Implied smut and a bit suggestive

an: I'm finally back after accidentally taking a break for a month. Thank you guys for waiting patiently <3. As always, if you liked reading this, please reblog or leave a comment. If you have any suggestions or you just want to talk, send me an ask and we can be friends 💕

To read more, check out my masterlist.

---

You woke up to the soft rays of sunlight filtering into your room through your blinds. Waking up to the warmth of sunlight on your cheeks had to be your favorite part of spring. Glancing at the clock on your bedside table, you shock yourself with how early you’ve woken up on a Saturday.

Normally you’re one to sleep until you absolutely need to get out of bed on the weekends, but today you’ve somehow managed to wake up at 7:30. Feeling proud of yourself, you decide to take this as your sign to be productive and to spend the day finally cleaning your apartment.

This past week had been hectic with work and the semester coming to an end that you barely had time to sleep, let alone clean your space. So, your apartment had been looking like a tornado blew through it for a while now and it definitely was not helping your mental state.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you shove your blanket from off your figure and force yourself out of bed. What? Just because you woke up early and decided to be productive in your head doesn’t mean that it’s not hard to get out of bed, especially when the mornings are still cold.

You rush into the bathroom to quickly brush your teeth and shower to warm yourself up. Once you’re done with your shower, you put on a pair of leggings and your hoodie (yeah, definitely yours and not your boyfriend’s).

As you’re tying your hair up into a ponytail, you make your way out of your room and into the living room. You immediately groan seeing all your college papers on your dining table which is serving as your makeshift desk, the trash on your kitchen counters, and the pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

Seeing the amount of overall filth in your living space, you were extremely tempted to just go back to bed and pretend you never had plans of cleaning, but you knew that if you didn’t clean your apartment now, you never would. So, you grab your phone, blast your cleaning playlist, and get to work.

—

It took you basically all morning just to clean your kitchen and it’s safe to say that morale was at an all time low. You collapsed onto your couch out of exhaustion and hunger. You hadn’t expected it to take so long to clean so you thought you could just eat breakfast after cleaning.

The second your body began relaxing on the couch, you heard a knock at your door. You laid there silently hoping that the person at your door would leave, but less than a minute later the knocking continued.

You let out a groan of frustration as you force yourself off the couch and make the trek to the front door less than a few feet away.

You swing open your front door, a frown still on your face. It takes you a second to register who’s at your door, but when you do, you’re left confused.

Wonwoo stands in front of you dressed casually a pair of gray sweatpants and a black tee shirt. You notice in one hand he’s holding a white plastic bag, which you can only assume contains take out.

“Wonwoo? What are you doing here?” you ask as you wrack your brain trying to remember if you had plans to see each other today.

“You weren’t answering any of my texts so I decided to stop by and make sure everything was okay.” he explains as you step aside letting him into your apartment.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I spent the past few hours cleaning. I haven’t been on my phone since I got up. I didn’t mean to worry you.” you say with your lips slightly down turned and eyebrows furrowed.

You felt bad for making him worry to the point that he felt the need to come to your apartment.

“Hey, it’s fine.” he says softly, noticing how upset you looked at yourself. “I wanted to see you anyways, so you not answering gave me an excuse to see you.”

Once Wonwoo took his shoes off, he finally registered what you looked like. His lips almost immediately turned up into a small smile as he realized that the hoodie you were wearing was none other than his own. He noticed the subtle flush in your cheeks, the thin sheen of sweat creating a film over your skin, and the way strands of hair were falling out of your ponytail. 

Noticing the fact that Wonwoo was just silently standing in your entryway, you ushered him deeper into your apartment. Honestly, you had noticed his eyes wandering over your figure and you couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed by the current state of your appearance. You and Wonwoo had been dating for about a year, but something about the way he looks at you makes you feel the same way you did during your first date.

“So, whatcha got in the bag?” you asked, looking pointedly at the plastic bag in his right hand.

“Oh, this? I picked up lunch from your favorite place. I thought you might’ve been sleeping or something when I texted you so I thought it would be nice to bring you some food.”

“Aww, thank you so much babe!” you exclaim in excitement. “Why don’t you go sit on the couch and I’ll just grab us some plates from the kitchen?”

Wonwoo gives you a nod as he makes his way to the couch. He places the bag of food on the table in front of him and he watches as you walk around the kitchen grabbing plates, utensils, and glasses of water for the two of you. He can’t help but coo every time you tug at the sleeves of his too large hoodie to grab everything.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” you ask once you’ve joined your boyfriend on the couch.

“No reason. You just look cute in my hoodie, that’s all.” he says, a small smile of endearment grazing his lips.

You feel yourself flush at his statement and pull your hair out of your lopsided ponytail as an attempt to distract yourself from how flustered Wonwoo still makes you even after how long you’ve been dating.

“Let’s eat, shall we?” you ask, trying to steer the conversation to more neutral territory. 

Wonwoo can’t keep himself from smiling a little wider at your flustered state, but he decides to take pity on you and drops the subject. Just this once, though.

Soon enough, conversation flows easily between the two of you as you share your meal together. Before you know it, the plates in front of you are empty and there lies another thing left for you to clean. Just as you’re about to get up to clean the small mess in front of you (it merely is a drop of water in the ocean of a mess your apartment is), Wonwoo beats you to it and is stacking the dirty utensils in his hands.

“Wonwoo, I can clean it.” you whine when he motions for you to stay seated as he continues cleaning.

“You can rest on the couch. Didn’t you say that you spent the entire morning cleaning?” he asks.

“Yeah, but I -” before you can finish your sentence, Wonwoo cuts you off.

“No buts! You looked exhausted when I got here. The least I can do is clean up the mess I helped make. Besides, I’m not called the dishwashing fairy for nothing.” he says with a smile.

Before you can protest, Wonwoo gives you a pointed look and you realize there’s no way that you can change his mind so you collapse backwards onto your couch letting him do whatever he wants.

You’re left alone with your thoughts for the first time today with the soft clattering of dishes coming from the kitchen serving as white noise. You’re suddenly aware of how warm you feel and you feel as though you are overheating. 

You had spent the day either distracted by cleaning or distracted by Wonwoo that you didn’t realize the rise in temperature in your apartment. It was finally spring time and as much as you loved it, you despised how it would be so cold in the mornings and evenings but warm in the afternoons making it almost impossible to dress appropriately without freezing in the morning or melting in the afternoon.

Feeling sweat prickle on your skin, you decide the only thing you can do is change out of Wonwoo’s thick hoodie into a thin, flowy tee shirt.

When you get up to go change, Wonwoo can see you from your kitchen sink a few feet away and he’s instantly curious as to what you’re up to.

“Where’re you going, love?” he asks from the sink as he continues to scrub the plate in front of him.

“I’m gonna change into something thinner. It’s too warm to be wearing a hoodie right now.” you say as you stop at the entryway of your kitchen to respond to him.

“Why do you need to change for that, though?” he asks, taking his eyes off the plate in front of him to glance at you with his confused eyes.

“I just told you, I’m overheating.” you say, confused as to why he’s confused.

“Can’t you just take it off here?”

You feel heat rush to your face, and you’re now feeling warm from embarrassment.

“Well… I would but…” you trailed off, hoping that you would just disappear or he would drop the subject.

“But…?” Wonwoo asks, having finished washing the dishes and giving you his full attention.

You take a deep breath to steady yourself. Just say it quickly, it’s like ripping a bandaid off. you think to yourself.

In one breath, as quickly as you can, you say, “I would but I’m not wearing anything underneath.”

It takes Wonwoo a second to understand what you said, but when he does, less than ten seconds after the words left your mouth, you’re already in your room with the door closed behind you.

Wonwoo feels his cheeks heat up as he realizes that this entire day, including the past hour plus that the two of you spent together, the only thing separating your top half from the rest of the world was his hoodie. He originally thought you looked so cute drowning in his hoodie and while he still does, this new information changes his entire perception of the time you’ve spent together.

Meanwhile, you were pacing around your room silently screaming at yourself. I can’t believe I just told him that I was both shirtless and braless under his hoodie. Why would I do that? What if he thinks I’m weird? Or worse, what if I made him uncomfortable? 

Letting out a defeated groan, you force yourself to push all these worries out of your head. You decide that you can’t hide in your room forever, mainly because you know Wonwoo would come looking for you at some point. So, you change into a loose fitting shirt, take a deep breath, and step out of your room.

Your eyes immediately search the kitchen to see if Wonwoo is where you left him, but he’s not there anymore. You wander deeper into your apartment and you find Wonwoo sitting on your couch, casually scrolling on his phone. 

You don’t think he notices your presence and based on how calm he looks, you feel hopeful that he either a) forgot the conversation happened or b) didn’t think it was as much of a big deal as you made it out to be in your head. But when you sit on the other end of the couch and Wonwoo drops his phone to the side to look at you with a knowing smirk on his face, you realize that you were so, so, so wrong.

“So, you wanna talk about it?” Wonwoo asks with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you respond, feigning innocence and looking anywhere but your boyfriend sitting a few inches away from you.

“Really? Because I seem to recall you saying that you weren’t wearing anything under my hoodie today.”

Your face flushes for the thousandth time today and you can’t help but feel a little guilty.

“Listen Wonwoo, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier. That wasn’t my intention.” you say, looking into his eyes earnestly.

“Wait, why are you apologizing?” he asks you confused.

“Because it’s obvious that I made you uncomfortable earlier.” 

“Babe, I don’t know why you would think I would feel uncomfortable by it. The only reason I didn’t respond was because I was just a little shocked, that’s all. If anything, it’s kinda hot now that I know that you’ve been walking around with nothing underneath my hoodie.”

Feeling embarrassed by assuming that Wonwoo was uncomfortable and by hearing his true feelings, you grab a throw pillow from your couch and bury your face into it.

“I can’t believe I embarrassed myself in front of you twice in one day.” you mumble into the pillow.

“Hey, this can’t be as embarrassing as when you tripped over Vernon’s bag and ended up spilling your drink on Mingyu’s lap.” Wonwoo says.

“I thought we all agreed to not bring that up anymore.” you whine as you hit him with the pillow in your hands.

“I’m just saying, you’ve done more embarrassing things in your life than telling me you're naked under my hoodie.”

“Wow, thank you so much Wonwoo. I feel so much better about myself.” you say sarcastically.

“Aww, babe I’m sorry.” he says as he reaches for your hands.

“Forget it.” you say, faking annoyance as you get up to go clean off your dining table turned desk.

“Babe.” Wonwoo whines as he rushes behind you and grabs your wrist.

Before you know it, Wonwoo tugs at your wrist pulling you close into his chest. Your breath hitches at the boldness of his actions and you peer up at him through your lashes to see what his next move is.

He removes his hand from your wrist and gently raises your chin so he can look into your eyes.

“I’m sorry babe.” he says.

When you’re about to open your mouth to tell him it’s fine, you’re silenced by his lips on yours. Deciding that you actually had nothing to say, you choose to melt into the kiss instead. 

Once the two of you part for air, you say “I guess you’re forgiven.”

“You don’t sound too confident about your answer.” he says, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Maybe I’m not confident in my answer. What’re you gonna do about it?” you challenge.

“Then let me make it up to you in a different way.” he says as he pulls you into another kiss.

It’s safe to say that you didn’t get any cleaning done for the rest of the day.

—

When you go over to Wonwoo’s place for movie night a few weeks later, Wonwoo is more than happy to see you wearing one of his hoodies you’ve taken from him.

While the two of you are cuddling together on the couch, Wonwoo can’t help but let his curiosity get the best of him. When you’re engrossed in the movie, Wonwoo takes his hand that was resting on your thigh and brings it up to the hem of hoodie loosely covering your frame.

This grabs your attention and you turn to him to look at him with your eyebrows furrowed. But Wonwoo’s eyes are fixed on the screen in front of you and it makes you wonder if you were just imagining things. Deciding that you were just being weird, you turn your attention back to the screen.

When Wonwoo notices that your attention is on the movie again, he takes that as his sign to move his hand again. He slips his hand under the hem of the hoodie and he slowly inches closer and closer to your chest.

Although your eyes were trained on the movie playing in front of you, all of your attention was on Wonwoo’s hand slowly grazing your skin as he made his way up your body. Your breath hitched when you felt his cold hand gently graze your bare breast and you turned to face Wonwoo.

He looked at you with a smirk on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes. Something told you that you wouldn’t know how the movie would end.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen fluff #seventeen x reader #svt fluff #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen smut #svt smut #wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut

[occamstfs]

No Need to Apply

Here is my 1K special! Though admittedly it is nothing much out of the ordinary- Thanks to everyone who submitted prompts but especially the anonymous suggestion that spurred this transformation of a desperate twink into a cocky slob! -Occam

Brock really needed a lucky break. He had been staying with his ex since they ended it, but now that he’s sleeping with someone it’s clear that Brock needs to get his own place. Unfortunately the market is not being quite so accommodating to his urgent needs. Given that he is now to be living alone it’s evident he also needs the place on the cheap. He had been denied all reasonable accommodations that he could afford and was beginning to contemplate moving back in with his parents when he suddenly received an email from an apparent realtor he’d never met.

It was an invitation to an open house at some ritzy downtown apartment that he was sure was out of his price range. Rather than just tossing it to his spam folder though, he finds himself looking at the handful of images with a voracity, whether it’s simple curiosity or a fantasy to have such clearly luxurious housing Brock reads through the whole listing. Reaching the end of the invitation and looking at the specs he finds the rent impossibly labeled as just under half his monthly paycheck.

Nearly spitting up coffee all over himself in shock, Brock’s eyes flutter to find exactly when and where this open house was. Surely the demand for this place would box him out but god wouldn’t it be nice to just check it out and dream. He sends an RSVP and far too quickly the realtor, Lucas, thanks him for his prompt response, wishes him well, and signs off saying see you soon. Brock went about the rest of his day as normal, if not a little cheerier than he’s been for some time as he keeps finding his mind drift to that almost-too-perfect apartment’s view over the city.

Fortunately off from work the next day, Brock took the bus to the open house, stopping by his favorite cafe that just so happens to be nearby. He grabs a drink and finds himself preoccupied with thoughts of what a convenience, what a windfall, this break would be. He heads inside and takes the elevator up to the suite and hesitates before entering at the door. Odd that there is no one else here, he double checks the room and floor and puts his ear to the door to see if perhaps other visitors are inside already.

In his untrained attempt to eavesdrop he puts his weight squarely against the door, pushing it open and stumbling in, nearly spilling his coffee over the pristine floors as he crosses the threshold into the apartment. Light streams in through the blinds, only magnifying the manicured state of the spotless room around him. The floor is clean enough to see his reflection, mouth agape, staring at how impossibly clean the apartment is. The only record at all that the place had ever been lived in is the furniture that had clearly been procured by someone of great means, though one lacking any critical eye or desire for design. He sees framed posters of some real red flag movies near a large TV and some sports trophies lined on a shelf. Brock can’t help but wonder what could cause someone to leave such personal artifacts behind and feels a chill in the air. 

He wanders away from the entrance to stand at the large windows, his phone ringing as he takes in the view of his town. Answering without checking the ID he hears a man’s voice he doesn’t recognize. Though he knows this must be the mystery realtor on the line, “How do you like the place Brock?” he begins to reply before being cut off by Lucas, “Have you seen the view yet, it’s quite something else.” 

Brock feels something flicker through his mind as he gazes at the city blocks around him, below him. His eyes briefly catch on his reflection in the glass, though not long enough to see his eyelids droop slightly as he is able to reply, a tad slower than he usually likes to project, “uhh, yeah I know right, how could I not apply to live here? It’s almost too good to be true right?” There is another chill in the air and his body shivers before tensing up, shocking him back to reality and awareness to something strange afoot, “Excuse me actually, I’m so sorry, how did you get my phone number?”

Lucas clicks his tongue and speaks with an almost sickly sweet tone, “Now Brock come now, what can I do to get you to move in today?” Shaking his head in shock Brock is immediately, regardless of the clear sinister air to this man, he really cannot afford to pass up this chance. He clams up as he clambors to express interest, “No I uh! Of course I want the place, just send the lease over so I can read through it.” There is a real weight to Lucas’ words as Brock hears them, the cloying tone impressing itself on his mind, “Wonderful! That is all I needed to hear!”

It is suddenly dark in the apartment, but wasn’t he looking out the window? He can’t tell if his eyes are open or closed but he cannot see. Brock tries to move his head around to see, to feel anything, he strains his mind reaching for any muscle to flex, any tendon to pull, limbs to controt. He loses track of time and reality as he sits in the darkness, trying to grasp anything beyond his own consciousness, unable to affect anything. He feels his right hand move in a familiar way then he feels a warmth, almost a burning, completely engulfs it. He can almost see the shine of a smile, stark perfectly lined teeth that seem eerily inhuman and suddenly there is once more light. He gasps, coughs, and spits up over himself. Immediately grateful that he can feel anything at all. After feeling his body, and seeing the world almost entirely like it was before he lost consciousness, besides a copy of some contract with his name signed at the bottom.

He takes deep breaths feeling his lungs stretch and he starts to read whatever he has gotten himself into in that stupor. He reads the first few lines before he loses where he was on the page. Going again he finds his eyes suddenly dry, doing an uncharacteristically heavy blink that he can’t quite recall ever doing before and as he wonders this he again forgets his work on the contract. He slams his hand on the thigh in a rare show of aggression and gives it one last go. Brock makes even less progress this time as he is almost immediately overcome by a headache. As soon as he looks away from the sheet though, it disappears. 

Brock groans as he feels himself starting to lose control of his senses before he hears his stomach grumble, and he finds a purpose he can immediately resolve. He starts to the fridge, clearly something has happened, an episode or something, he can figure it out later, he just needs food in his stomach now. He doesn’t stop to realize that there should be no food in the fridge since no one’s been living there. Though he finds there is no need as in the fridge, under a note labeled: “To Help Moving In -Lucas,” Brock sees at least a week of prepped meals. The thought that this is bizarre beyond imagination, as well as the concern at his missing time, is immediately pushed from his mind as his stomach rumbles once more, his mouth watering as he sees his soon-to-be dinner.

Brock swiftly heats it up and begins to scarf it down, throwing something on the paying no mind or care to the thought that he’s using the account of whomever the previous tenant was. He quickly scans through seeing a handful of shows and movies that he wasn’t quite interested in before stumbling on a reality show he was watching with his Ex. He grimaces and almost loses his appetite as he thinks about his boyfriend for the first time in what feels like forever. He sets his meal down on the coffee table and crashes down onto the couch. He continues to stew in ire at his ex, palming his crotch as his feelings become more passionate. He rolls his eyes in irritation at himself and that jerk, he’s not going to masturbate to that asshole. 

He reclines in the couch and hears the sound of paper shifting in the cushions, pulling it out he finds a crusted magazine lodged in the couch. What can he do besides shout “what the fuck” and toss it across the room. How could they have possibly missed that in their cleaning? Brock’s eyes shift across the room suspiciously, though he notices nothing amiss as the room is illuminated by only the television. He looks at his hand that grabbed the porn and blushes, wanting to joke about the absurdity to calm himself down. Though his body makes its priorities known once more as his cock pulses and he looks past to see the magazine once more. He did want to masturbate to anyone besides his ex right? 

He shuffles to pick it up, the discomfort and anxiety from handling something covered in a total strangers cum only heightens his pleasure as he sits back down. He grimaces as he sees this is a real hetero-bullshit magazine, he quickly flips through to find something he can work with. His cock keeps demanding his attention as he flips through, almost impatiently pulsing as if to suggest he doesn’t need the magazine at all, just give it your attention. Though soon enough he finds an ad for some protein powder made to emasculate the reader into buying, that almost immediately helps him lose control. 

Soon after he once more fades from consciousness, his cum joining the plethora of other stains in the magazine as he tosses it behind the couch. He finds himself in a darkness that this time feels almost familiar and pleasurable. He once more feels his hand, this time though it is wet and warm. He feels it scratching in briefs that are too tight, through pubes that are too thick. He hears snoring breaking through the silence of his sleep, but that can’t be right? He would know if he snores, surely that fucker of a boyfriend would have complained. He feels his head grow warm as if he’s got a fever, though he knows it is a rage. He feels his hand feel even tighter in his briefs as his cock begins to grow in them. He continues to think of every slight his ex made, every shortcoming he was made needlessly aware of, and of how much better things are going to be now.

The heat shifts from his mind through his whole body and as light begins to break through the windows. That is not what wakes him up though, rather it is the heavy scent coming from his now sweat stained clothes. He rolls off the couch onto his face, quickly removing his hand from his briefs to catch himself, landing the stinking hand too close to his face to not smell just how loud his underwear smells. He feels his clothes sit weird on his body as he starts to rise, while his shirt just feels like it’s hanging weird, surely from the sweat, it is impossible to not see how strained his underwear is. He groans as he feels them pull strangely before he just discards them and makes his way to the bathroom. 

His eyes immediately latch onto his now exposed crotch, he does a double take as he notices that it seems distinctly larger. He also would have sworn that he shaved his pubes far more recently than it seems. He scratches through them, blushing as he sees dried cum flake off curls that are longer and thicker than he ever remembers them begin. Rather than hoping in the shower like any reasonable person would do he instead tosses on some boxers, not questioning why clothing that isn’t his would just be lying out, or why he would ever put them on. Instead choosing to focus on how right wearing them feels. He pulls them tight and turns wanting to see just how his ass and bulge fill them out, though is waylaid as his shirt blocks the view. 

He sneers as he takes off the sweat-stained shirt and tosses it to the floor, stretching high as his reeking body feels the air on his skin. He smiles in shock as he sees the body he has now exposed, he sees hair spreading across his stomach and torso and sweat dripping off of pits that were sure to stain every shirt he is to wear from now on. Beyond that he feels a body that is indisputably powerful, where there wasn’t even fat on his body before there was now muscle accompanied with weight in all the right places. His eyes then trail down to see the weightiest part of him by far as it bulges even lower in his boxers.

He feels an urge to move, to flex, to stretch, fill him as he hungrily takes in every new change in his body. His eyes trace their way past muscles contorting to land on his face, seeing a jaw that could certainly do with a shave. He sees his eager grin begin to turn into a cocky sneer as he begins to stretch once more, trying to will his torso even longer, trying to force his body even taller. His voice grows even deeper to his barely-aware ears as he closes his eyes to stretch, not seeing his throat force itself thicker and longer. There is once again a flicker in his mind as Brock is in darkness once more. Where there was once discomfort and fear there is now only hunger and an eagerness to grow even more.

He feels an itch burn across his body. He feels his hands dig deep into his pits scratching as hair grows thick enough to hold an odor that would never dissipate. He smells as even in this dreamstate he raises his hands to his nose to give them a post-scratch whiff. He feels the same itch cry out from his chest and pubes, from his lower back and his ass. He feels himself move his jaw as it squares up, a rumble in his throat as he feels his groans grow even deeper. He feels his mind thicken and slow as his muscles flex in his sleep. His arms do rep after unconscious rep as he feels biceps that should not be rub against a chest that has never been there before.

Finally he wakes one last time, his hand as it apparently always is, shoved in his pants, once more barely fitting despite wearing the spacier boxers. Brock blearily looks to see lines of takeout containers covering his coffee table. He scratches his beard using the hand from his crotch and he deeply inhales, two birds one stone after all. He sets out to get started with his day, tossing over in his head if he should masterbate again or not, a stain from a wet dream clearly showing through his boxers. Instead he throws Drake on his speakers and starts getting an early workout in, seeing to every part of his body getting a pump as he feels the hunger in his crotch grow only more urgent. 

Going about this workout Brock feels totally at home in this apartment. After all he’s lived here for? Uh? His mind empties as he looks around and sees weeks of piled up detritus and filth. He sees dirty clothes and cum stains on his couch. Looking past them there are his American Psycho and Fight Club posters, discarded underwear hanging off the latter, as well as the trophies he distinctly remembers winning back in college wrestling. He smirks and flexes tilting his head to sniff his pit. Beyond feeling at home in his apartment he also feels unequivocally at home in this, in his body, duh. He jumps to his feet with ease, his stomach rumbling as he once more goes to meet a basal need.

Throwing some of his favorite protein powder in a blender with some milk and eggs he hears his phone go off. There are a string of messages from some bitch asking him to come back and for the life in him Brock can’t remember who that little fucker is? Hearing his shake finish blending he stares at the profile picture of whoever this twink is as he starts to down it, wiping his lips on his sweaty arm as needed. The twink he doesn’t know calls him Brock and his eye twitches, ugh. Why is this dude calling him by his, uh? Is that his middle name? Or no he was Brock right?

He finishes the shake, tossing the blender onto the pile of dishes in the sink and his mind finds itself deeply conflicted. As ever though, his body is more than happy to assuage him, the phone vibrates once more and his cock begins to bring him clarity, demanding his attention once more. Brock’s a little bitch name. He smirks as he looks around at his sty of an apartment, not remembering how neat it once was. Peeking from under a particularly dirty dish there’s a contract that he remembers that he meant to have a look at. 

Bringing it to his face however he simply can’t find the motivation to even start. Why worry about this when he can masturbate, or fuck maybe he can get that whiny bitch to come over? His eyes trail to the end of the paper and see his signature, written clear as day “Adam.” He guffaws at this, god how stupid can you be, he basically forgot his own name after that twink called him uh, whatever that bitch name was. He feels his crotch grow tight again, that is kinda hot though? He moans to himself, pawing at his crotch and texts whoever this man is his address and to come ready to fuck. Adam feels no real attachment to whoever it is, nor should he, a hole is a hole after all. Saying that thought he can’t help but feel this hole is due to be taught a lesson.

If you enjoyed this I also recommend @fredwkong's The Voice in Your Head which explores a similar idea in quite a unique and captivating way!

#male tf #mental change #masculinization #muscle tf #jockification #reality change #musk tf

[ahhhwomen]

You can say no?

Vampire Empire

Part 6

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: This is not my best-written chapter I won't lie, but it will still hurt if you are looking for a little angst fix... Yeah no, this hurt a little... I won't lie. Also, peep the tags, I had to make a change for this one...

Disclaimer: English is not my first language. All mistakes are my own.

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), death, alluded rape/non-con Minors DNI 18+

Word count: 1.8k

Taglist

Your hands weave through cold water, their damaged nerves trying desperately to hold on to something, anything. Waving against unfamiliar territory, you paddle and struggle against heavy waves, they push and pull, and you heave for breath between the swishing walls.

The water is chilling and gloomy.

The expansion of the ocean, vast, and intimidating.

You never realized it until now, with your feet kicking and struggling against the currents, but-

you don’t know how to swim.

There was a woman, long before Master entered the picture.

She was the only one to take an incline of pity on your small shaking frame as she dished out the punishment for eating before you were given permission.

Your chest struggles against the hammering of your heavy heart as the older woman looms over your small frame, sitting in the chilled freezer, your hands clamber around the rough wool sweater she instructed you to put on.

“Here.” Her voice is estranged and lost within time, but you remember the way she would hand you a little flashlight and a painting she had observed your eyes drift toward while you stayed with her.

Even at your young age, there had been something about that painting that drew you to it. The delicate brush strokes were perfected over time. You could almost see the progress of the artist within their work. Some lines were thicker, and rougher, as if they were made with an inexperienced hand. Yet, toward the end, the last final touches among the petals were as beautiful as could be.

The first painting she ever brought inside the cold metal box was your favorite. It helped fend away the thoughts of your stiff, shaking body, inside the locked freezer.

It was a field of sunflowers.

You claw against gruff hands as he holds you under the freezing water.

The cold hits you and you can’t help but try and gasp for air, the only reward you're given is water forcing its way into your lungs and dragging you down even lower.

Your vision darkens and you know.

There is nothing you can do.

As you squint up at the man, the water obscures the view, it morphs and moves, and his blond hair almost reminds you of the sun.

Your airways close as his hands tighten, despite the ice-cold water, blood pools inside your head, heating you up from the inside out, as your body numbs.

His horrid vanilla perfume penetrates your senses much like the chilling liquid that surrounds you.

You never tasted vanilla before… this may be the closest you will ever be to it.

In a blurry of delusion and hallucination, you dream of the beach. With the real sun, instead of his blond hair, peaking over the horizon.

And as you lose conciseness you picture a warming light and delicious ice cream with real vanilla.

The forceful grip of chill has been both a friend and a foe over the years. When you woke up that morning, you didn’t think it would be different from any other day. And you didn’t really care, even if it was.

On one side, the cold numbs you and lessens your senses until you can’t feel the burning pain of a harsh hand or even harsher canines.

Yet, on the other hand, with the lack of mobility, you can’t protect yourself. It’s not like you ever had much of a chance against your masters, to begin with, but that one night.

You curl into yourself, your muscles are weak and tired, but you try to hide from the outlash of thoughts and memories.

If you weren’t so damned cold, maybe it would’ve played out differently.

Maybe you could have spoken up before she had them remove that ability altogether.

“HOW DARE YOU!” You whine and turn as two hot weights settle you back in place. Something strokes your side in a gentle up-and-down motion as searing flashes of the past bombard your senses.

“YOU ARE A PET!” Army boots are the only thing you can focus on as she forces you down to your knees in the snow.

Your leash is wrapped around one of the boots, the weak material fraying around the edges as her heels dig into the ground and force you even lower. With your face flush with the dead grass that is layered with frozen water, she stares you down.

“YOU ARE A SLAVE!”

The last leverage of your knees is quickly kicked out from under you, and you fall with a heavy thud. Your eyes force themselves closed as the snow invades your nervous system.

“YOU DON’T GET TO SAY NO TO ME!” The harsh breathing of the older woman is slurred and hissed. Which is how you know her sharper teeth are out.

Your eyelids slowly peel open, and with a determined turn of your head, you stare up at her in wonder. What did you do?

“DID YOU TELL HER NO WHEN SHE DID THIS TO YOU, HUH!?”

Did you tell her no?

You can say no?

Before the vision can continue, you startle as soft whispers sneak past your eardrums. The words are hard to make out between the intense tone of the blond woman and the horrid chill of the surroundings.

You can only make out parts as the gentle strokes return to your side. A warmth, unfamiliar to you, presses itself closer to you as you can feel their grip tighten against your flailing body.

“Hush, it’s okay…”

Is it?

“You’re okay baby.”

You?

You are, okay…?

Aren’t you drowning…?

Yeah.

You are drowning.

“Shit, she’s getting worse.” Wanda curses under her breath as she closes the distance between the two of you even more, even going so far as to pull Natasha closer by the arm wrapped around your midsection.

Both she and the other redhead lay on their plush carpet in nothing but underwear as they clutch you close while the fireplace burns and crackles to the left of you.

After Natasha had carried you into their home, earlier that day, the vamped-out redhead had quickly ordered her wife to strip down, her voice harsh yet monotone. At the time, Wanda had been riddled with confusion, Natasha had never spoken to her in such a manner before, much less with a demand like that.

The way her words had drawled over each syllable, the air hissed against prominent canines as her tongue clicked at the roof of her mouth. It oozed authority, a clear disrespect toward the older vampire.

There are ranks within the vampire world and rules to follow such ranks. Wanda was the Wanda Maximoff, clan leader of the Maximoff clan. As far as the vamp rule applied, Wanda was at the top of the food chain.

Natasha is strong, always has been, but if she were ever put up against the command of a clan leader her free will would cease to exist. Of course, the powerful redhead would never do such a thing to her wife, but that didn’t mean a vampire´s rage was something that could be stopped.

And Wanda should be angry, she should be outright offended that a lesser vampire would ever speak to her in such a manner. Had Natasha been someone else, Wanda would’ve ripped her head off already.

Yet here they were.

Natasha laid you down gently in front of the fireplace, her hands were already moving to start the fire before she could register what she was doing. Strong, orange, flames licked her upper body as the wood caught ablaze. The heat sizzled and the wood groaned. Previous charcoal that had laid forgotten on the ashpan glowed and flourished with the newfound heat.

Then much like she expected Wanda to do, she stripped down to her underwear. It’s as if she couldn’t get the clothes off fast enough, with every glide of expensive fabric that loosened and fell, she just became more irritated. She doesn’t know how long you have been like this, but the window for action was closing by the minute.

The scent of blood from your scratched elbow drifted through the mansion, yet it was the last thing on the redheads’ minds.

Crawling over to the couch Natasha pulled down every blanket she could get her hands on, and in a jiffy, she was back at your side.

Wrapping you both up like a burrito as she buried herself under the blankets with you.

An audible hiss could be heard as Natasha first laid her front flat against your bare back. Your skin could rival a piece of paper for the bleakness. But it wasn’t just that, you were beyond cold. If Natasha didn’t know any better, she would think you were a corpse.

The thought made her shudder, in a moment of need for a distraction, her eyes started their journey toward a hotheaded redhead.

Natasha knew the significance of demanding anything from her wife, to be frank, it had just slipped, and as her eyes connected with her lovers, she was expecting to see anger flaring within them.

Instead, when her eyes disconnect from where they had been staring at your greasy hair, they glance up to see Wanda stripped down and standing protectively over the both of you.

So, after being let into your little burrito, they both wrapped themselves around you and waited with bated breath.

There was an unspoken understanding amongst them. You were special, whether they wanted to believe it or not.

Close to an hour later, you started whining in your fever-induced sleep.

It all went downhill from there.

(On the other side of the city)

Carol huffs as yet another problem arises, she could never get any peace.

Walking out she can finally breathe as the cold city air flows into her. Her lungs expand and contract as her eyes slip closed for a second. If she wasn’t so fucking angry, she may have enjoyed the silence that hung in the crisp air.

Pulling her phone out she goes to check your location, she hadn’t planned to run off like that, but one of the idiot goons had started trouble with another clan. If she hadn’t stopped it then and there, they were all as good as dead. It had been an ally of the Maximoff clan after all.

“Urgh” pinching her eyebrows Carol groans in frustration. She is going to get an earful from Thor once she gets back to work.

If her mood wasn’t sour before, it most definitely was now.

She was only half-heartedly checking your tracker, too busy wallowing in self-pity, that is until she saw the house, or more like a mansion, where your collar now resides.

Glass shatters, small pieces of melted sand, scattering and clinking as a mastered craft meets asphalt.

She is going to kill you.

Taglist:

@thinking1bee @tobiaslut @esmeseasle @skittlebum @tia-thesimp @maximilfsworld @leenasayeed @scarlethexelove @itsalwaysskorpioszn @observeowl @tekanparadiae @alexawynters @adelareys @anqyuicka @ichala @thalia-is-not-ok @lovelyy-moonlight @wandamaximoff-simp @opossumking03 @confidant-thoughts @delivery-bird @esouliie @geydumbbetch @dorabledewdroop @mousetheorist @herwagonempathkid @mommysfavouritegirl @auroraromaximoff @roman0ffsheart @morganna-la-faye @kaosrsing @marvelwomenarehot0 @lizzieswife101 @og-kxsh-420 @chibilauren @sgm616 @cyber-juipter @falloutboy-lover @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @likefirenrain @cole2907 @rahhhha @taliiiaasteria @mommysfavouritegirl @dehydratedcoffeeaddict @viktoriaromanovaa @julz2000

#wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat x reader #dark!natasha romanoff #vampire!natasha romanoff #vampire!wanda maximoff #dark!wandanat #vampire empire

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

1968 [Chapter 5: Artemis, Goddess Of The Hunt]

Series Summary: Aemond is embroiled in a fierce battle to secure the Democratic Party nomination and defeat his archnemesis, Richard Nixon, in the presidential election. You are his wife of two years and wholeheartedly indoctrinated into the Targaryen political dynasty. But you have an archnemesis of your own: Aemond’s chronically delinquent brother Aegon.

Series Warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, character deaths, New Jersey, age-gap relationships, drinking, smoking, drugs, pregnancy and childbirth, kids with weird Greek names, historical topics including war and discrimination, math.

Word Count: 6.6k

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged! 🥰

💜 All of my writing can be found HERE! 💜

“So you smoked grass in college,” Aegon says, pondering you with glazed eyes as he slurps his cherry-flavored Mr. Misty. You’re in Biloxi, Mississippi where Aemond is making speeches and meeting with locals to commemorate the first summer of the beaches being desegregated after a decade of peaceful protests and violent white supremacist backlash. Route 90 runs right along the sand dunes. If you walked out of this Dairy Queen, you could look south and see the Gulf of Mexico, placid dark ripples gleaming with moonshine. “And swore, and had a boyfriend, and presumably, what, did shots? Skipped class on occasion?”

“Yeah,” you admit, smiling sheepishly, remembering. You stretch out your fingers. “I chewed gum, I talked during mass. And I loved black nail polish. The nuns would beat my knuckles with rulers, I always had bruises. I wore these flowing skirts down to my ankles and knee-high boots. My hair was a mess, long and blowing around everywhere. My friends and I would do each other’s makeup, silver glitter and purple shadow, pencil on a ridiculous amount of eyeliner and then smudge it out. If you saw a photo you wouldn’t recognize me.”

Aegon takes a drag on his Lucky Strike cigarette, weightless smoke and the tired yellowish haze of florescent lights. Buffalo Springfield’s For What It’s Worth is playing from the Zenith radio on the counter by the cash register. “I’d recognize you.”

“I used to skip this one class all the time. The professor was a demon. I could do the math, but not the way he wanted me to. Right solution, wrong steps, I don’t know. I learned it differently in high school, and I couldn’t figure out the formula he wanted me to use. So he’d mark everything a zero even if my answer was correct. I couldn’t stand that bastard. Then the nuns kept catching me sunbathing on the quad when I was supposed to be in Matrices and Vector Spaces. I racked up so many demerits they were going to revoke my weekend pass, and then I wouldn’t be able to go into the city with my friends. So I stole the demerit book and burned it up on the stove in my dorm. Almost set the whole building on fire.”

Aegon is laughing. “You did not. Not you, not perfect ever-obedient Miss America!”

“I did. I really did.” You sip your own Mr. Misty, lemon-lime. Across the restaurant, Criston and Fosco are eating banana splits—dripping chocolate syrup and melted ice cream all over their table—and passionately debating who is going to end up in the World Series; Criston favors the Cardinals and the Orioles, Fosco says the Red Sox and the Cubs. The rest of the Targaryen family is back at the hotel watching news coverage of the Republican National Convention, something you can only stomach so much of, Otto’s cynical commentary, Aemond’s remaining eye fixed fiercely on the screen as he nips at an Old Fashioned. “I was wild back then.”

“And you gave it all up to be Aemond’s first lady.”

You think back to where it started: palm trees, salt water, alligators in drainage ditches. “My father grew up in a shack outside of Tallahassee. No electricity, no running water, he dropped out of school in eighth grade to help take care of his siblings when his mom died. They moved south to live with their aunt in Tampa, and my father wound up in Tarpon Springs working as a sea sponge diver.”

Aegon’s eyebrows rise, like he thinks you’re teasing him. “Sea sponges…?”

“I’m serious! It paid better than picking oranges or sweeping up in a factory. It’s dangerous. You have to wear this heavy rubber suit and walk around on the ocean floor, sometimes 50 feet or more below the surface.”

“What do people do with sea sponges?”

“Oh right, you would be unfamiliar. You’re supposed to clean yourself with them, like a loofah. Soap? Water? Ringing any bells?”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes. “You’re a very mean person. Aren’t you supposed to be setting an example for the merciful wives and daughters of this great nation?”

“Painters and potters buy sponges too. And some women use them as contraceptives. You can soak them in lemon juice and then shove them up there and it kills sperm.”

“I suddenly have great appreciation for the sea sponge industry. God bless the sea sponges.”

“So my father spent a few years diving, and he fell in love with a girl who worked at one of the shops he sold sponges to. That was my mother. They got married when he had absolutely nothing, and by their fifth anniversary he had his own fleet of boats, a gift shop, and a processing and shipping facility, all of which they owned jointly. They just opened the Spongeorama Sponge Factory this past April, a cute little tourist trap. But my point is that they were partners from the start. My father listens to my mother, and she works alongside him, and it was never like what I’ve seen from my friends’ parents: dad at the office 80 hours a week, mom at home strung out on Valium, just these…deeply separate, cold planets locked in orbit but never touching each other. I knew I didn’t want that. I wanted a husband who was building something I could be a part of. I wanted a man who respected me.”

Aegon watches you as he lights a fresh cigarette, not saying what you imagine he wants to: And how is that working out? He puffs on his Lucky Strike a few times and then offers it to you. You aren’t supposed to smoke, not even tobacco—it’s not ladylike, it’s masculine, it’s subversive—but you take it and hold it between your index and middle fingers, inhaling an ashy bitterness that blood learns to crave. The bracelets on your wrist jangle, thin silver chains that match the diamonds in your ears. Your dress is mint green, your hair in your signature Brigitte Bardot-inspired updo. Aegon is wearing a black t-shirt with The Who stamped across the front. When you pass the cigarette back to him, Aegon asks: “What music did you listen to? The Stones, The Animals?”

“Yeah. And Hendrix, The Kinks, Aretha Franklin…”

“Phil Ochs?”

“I love him. He’s got a song about Mississippi, you know.”

“Oh, I’m aware. It’s one of my favorites.”

“And I’m currently getting a little obsessed with Loretta Lynn. She’s so angry!”

“She’s sanctimonious, that’s what she is. Always bitching about men.”

“Six kids and an alcoholic husband will do that to someone.”

Aegon winces, and then you realize what you’ve said. Loretta Lynn sounds a lot like Mimi. He finishes his Mr. Misty and then fidgets restlessly with his white cardboard cup, spinning it around by the straw. You feel bad, though you shouldn’t. You wouldn’t have a month ago.

“Aegon,” you say gently, and he reluctantly looks up at you, sunburned cheeks, blonde hair shagging over his eyes. “Why do you ignore your children? They’re interesting, they’re fun. Violeta invited me to help her make cakes with her Easy-Bake Oven last week. And Cosmo…he’s so clever. But it’s like he doesn’t know who you are. He might actually think Fosco’s his dad.”

Aegon takes one last drag off his cigarette and discards the end of it in his Mr. Misty cup. Now he’s fiddling with it again, avoiding your gaze. “I don’t have much to offer them.”

“I think you do.”

“No you don’t.”

“I do,” you insist. “You can be kind of nice sometimes.”

He frowns, staring out the window. You know he can’t see anything but darkness and streetlights. “I should have been the one to go to Vietnam. If somebody had to get shot at so Aemond could be president, I was the right choice. No one would miss me. No one would mourn me. Daeron didn’t deserve that. But I was too old, so Otto and my father got him to enlist. Now he’s in the jungle and my mother has nightmares about Western Union telegrams. If I was the son over there, I think she’d sleep easier.”

I’m glad you’re still here, you think. Instead you say: “Your children need you.”

“No they don’t. Between me and Mimi, they’re better off as orphans. Helaena and Fosco can be their parents. Maybe they’ll have a fighting chance.”

The glass door opens, and a man walks into the Dairy Queen with his two sons scampering behind him, all with sandy flip flops and carrying fishing rods. The dad is at least six feet tall and brawny, and wearing a Wallace For President baseball cap. You and Aegon both notice it, then share an amused, disparaging glance. You mouth: Imbecile bigot. The man continues to the cash register and orders two chocolate shakes and a root beer float. At their own table, Criston is mopping up melted ice cream with napkins and telling Fosco to stop being such a pig.

“Me?!” Fosco says. “You are the pig, that spot there is your ice cream, do not blame your failings on poor Fosco. I have already let you drag me to this terrible state and never once complained about the fried food or the mosquitos. And that thing out there is not a real beach. The water is still and brown, brown!”

“For once in your life, pretend you have a work ethic and help me clean up the table.”

“You are being very anti-immigrant right now, do you know that?”

Aegon begins singing, ostensibly to himself. “Here’s to the state of Mississippi, for underneath her borders, the devil draws no lines.”

“Aegon, no,” you whisper, petrified. You know this song. You know where he’s going.

He’s beaming as he continues: “If you drag her muddy rivers, nameless bodies you will find.”

Now the man in the Wallace hat is looking at Aegon. His sons are happily gulping down their chocolate shakes. Criston and Fosco, still bickering, haven’t noticed yet.

“Oh, the fat trees of the forest have hid a thousand crimes.”

“Aegon, don’t,” you plead quietly. “He’ll murder you.”

“The calendar is lyin’ when it reads the present time.”

“Hey,” calls the man in the Wallace For President hat. “You got a problem, boy?”

Aegon drums his palms on the tabletop as he sings, loudly now: “Oh, here’s to the land you’ve torn out the heart of, Mississippi find yourself another country to be part of!”

In seconds, the man has crossed the room, grabbed Aegon by the collar of his t-shirt, yanked him out of his chair and struck him across the face: closed fist, lethal intent, the sick wet sound of bones on flesh. Aegon’s nose gushes, his lip splits open, but he isn’t flinching away, he isn’t afraid. He’s yowling like a rabid animal and clawing, kicking, swinging at the giant who’s ensnared him. You are screaming as you leap to your feet, your chair falling over and clattering on the floor behind you. The man’s sons are hooting joyously. “Git him, Paw!” one of them shouts.

“Criston?!” you shriek, but he and Fosco are already here, tugging at the man’s massive arms and beating on his back, trying to untangle him from Aegon.

“Stop!” Criston roars. “You don’t want to hurt him! He’s a Targaryen!”

“A Targaryen, huh?” the man says as he steps away, wiping the blood from his knuckles on his tattered white t-shirt, stained with fish guts. “All the better. I wish that bullet they put in Aemond woulda been just another inch to the left. Directly through the aorta.”

Aegon lunges at the man again, hissing, fists swinging. Fosco yanks him back.

“Are you gonna call someone or not?!” Criston snaps at the girl behind the cash register, but she only gives him a steely glare in return. This is Wallace country. There’s a reason why it took four years after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 to finally desegregate the beaches.

“We should go,” you tell Criston softly.

“Yes, we will leave now,” Fosco says, hauling Aegon towards the front door. Then, to the cashier: “Thank you for the ice cream, but it was not very good. If you are ever in Italy, try the gelato. You will learn so much.”

“I can’t wait ‘til November,” the man gloats, ominous, threatening. His sons are standing tall and proud beside him. “When Aemond loses, you can all cart your asses back to Europe. We don’t want you here. America ain’t for people like you.”

“It literally is,” you say, unable to stop yourself. “It’s on the Statue of Liberty.”

“Yeah, where do you think your ancestors came from?!” Aegon yells at the man. “Are you a Seminole, pal? I didn’t think so—!” Fosco and Criston lug him through the doorway before more punches can be thrown.

Outside—under stars and streetlights and a full moon—Aegon burst out laughing. This is when he feels alive; this is when the blood in his veins turns to wave and riptides. You didn’t think to grab napkins from the table, so you wipe the blood off his face with your bare hand, assessing the damage. He’ll be fine; swollen and sore, but fine.

“You’re insane, you know that?” you say. “You could have been killed.”

Aegon pats your cheek twice and grins, blood on his teeth. “The world would keep spinning, little Io.” Then he starts walking back towards the White House Hotel.

~~~~~~~~~~

When the four of you arrive at your suite, Aemond, Otto, Ludwika, and Alicent are still gathered around the television. The nannies have taken the children to bed. Helaena is reading The Bell Jar in an armchair in the corner of the room. Mimi is passed out on the couch, several empty glasses on the coffee table. ABC is showing a clip they recorded earlier today of Ludwika travelling with Aemond’s retinue after he made an impassioned speech condemning the lack of recognition of the evils of slavery at Beauvoir, the historic home of former Confederate president Jefferson Davis. The reporter is asking Ludwika what she thinks makes Aemond a better presidential candidate than Eugene McCarthy, as McCarthy shares many of the same policy positions and has an additional 15 years of political experience.

“This McCarthy is not a real man,” Ludwika responds, her face stony and mistrustful. “He reminds me of the communists back in my country. Did you know he met with Che Guevara in New York City a few years ago? Why would he do such a thing?”

Now, Otto turns to her in this hotel room. “I love you.”

Ludwika takes a sip of her martini. “I want another Gucci bag.”

“Yes, yes. Tomorrow, my dear.”

“What happened to you?” Aemond asks his brother, half-exasperated and half-concerned. Criston has fetched a washcloth from the bathroom for Aegon to hold against his bleeding lip and nose. Aemond is still wearing his blue suit from a long day of campaigning, but he’s taken out his eye and put on his eyepatch. His gaze flicks from Aegon’s face to the blood still coating your left hand. On the couch, Mimi’s bare foot twitches but she doesn’t wake up.

“There was a Wallace supporter at the Dairy Queen,” you say. “Aegon felt inspired to defending you.”

Aemond chuckles. “Did you win?” he asks Aegon.

“I would have if the guy wasn’t two of me.”

On the television screen, Richard Nixon is accepting his party’s nomination for president at the Republican National Convention in Miami, Florida.

“He’s a buffoon,” Otto sneers. “So awkward and undignified. Look at him sweating! Look at those ridiculous jowls! And he comes from nothing. His family is trash.”

“Americans love a rags to riches story,” you say. And then, somewhat randomly: “He loves his wife. He proposed to Pat on their very first date, and she said no. So he drove her to dates with other men for years until she finally reconsidered. He said it was love at first sight. He’s never had a mistress. And jowls or no jowls, his family adores him.”

Aegon turns to you, still clutching the washcloth against his face. “Really?”

You nod. “That’s the sort of thing the women talk about.”

There’s a knock at the door. You all look at each other, confounded; no one has ordered room service, no one is expecting any visitors, and the nannies have keys in the event of an emergency. Fosco is closest to the door, so he opens it. A man in uniform is standing there with a golden Western Union telegram in his hands. Alicent screams and collapses. Criston bolts to her.

“It’s okay,” you say. “He’s not dead. Whatever happened, Daeron’s not dead.”

Otto crinkles his brow at you. “How do you know?”

“Because if he was killed, there would be a priest here too.” They always send a priest when the boy is dead. Aegon glances at you, eyes wet and fearful.

“Ma’am,” the soldier—a major you see now, spotting the golden oak leaves—says to Alicent as he removes his cap. “I regret to inform you that your son Daeron was missing in action for several weeks, and we’ve just received confirmation that he’s being held as a prisoner of war in Hỏa Lò Prison.”

“He’s in the Hanoi Hilton?!” Otto exclaims. “Oh, fuck those people and their swamp, how did Kennedy ever think we had something to gain from getting tangled up in that mess?”

“But he’s alive?” Aemond says. “He’s unharmed?”

“Yes sir,” the captain replies. “It is our understanding that he is in good condition. The North Vietnamese are aware that he is a very valuable prisoner, like Admiral McCain’s son John. He’ll be used in negotiations. He is of far more use to them alive than dead.”

“So we can get Daeron back,” Aegon says. “I mean, we have to be able to, right? Aemond’s running for president, he’ll probably win in November, we have millions of dollars, we can spring one man out of some third-world jail, right?”

The captain continues: “Tomorrow when your family returns to New Jersey, the Joint Chiefs of Staff will be there to discuss next steps with you. I’m afraid I’m only authorized to give you the news as it was relayed to me.” He entrusts the telegram to Otto, who rapidly opens it and stares down at the mechanical typewriter words.

“I have to pray,” Alicent says suddenly. “Helaena, will you pray with me? There’s a Greek church down the road. Holy Trinity, I think it’s called.”

Obediently, Helaena joins her mother and follows her to the doorway. Criston leaves with them. Otto gives his new wife a harsh, meaningful stare. Ludwika, an ardent yet covert atheist, sighs irritably. “Wait. I want to pray too,” she says, and vanishes with them into the hall.

As the captain departs, Mimi sits up on the couch, blinking, groggy. “What? What happened?”

“Go with Alicent,” Otto tells her. “She’s headed downstairs.”

“What? Why…?”

“Just go!” he barks.

Mimi staggers to her feet and hobbles out of the hotel room, her sundress—patterned with forget-me-nots—billowing around her. The only people left are Otto, Aemond, Fosco, Aegon, and you. The fact that you are the sole woman permitted to remain here feels intentional.

After a moment, Otto speaks. “You know, John McCain has famously refused to be released from the Hanoi Hilton until all the men imprisoned before him have been freed. He doesn’t want special treatment. And that’s a very noble thing to do, don’t you think? It has endeared him and the McCains to the public.”

Aemond and Otto are looking at each other, communicating in a silent language not of letters or accents but colors: red ambition, green hunger, grey impassionate morality. Fosco is observing them uneasily. Aemond says at last: “Daeron wants to help this family.”

“You’re not going to try to get him out.” Aegon realizes.

Aemond turns to him, businesslike, vague distant sympathy. “It’s only until November.”

“No, you know people!” Aegon explodes. “You pick up the phone, you call in every favor, you get him out of there now! You have no idea if he has another three months, you don’t know what kind of shape he’s in! They could be dislocating his arms or chopping off his fingers right now, they could be starving him, they could be beating him, you can’t just leave him there!”

“It’s not your decision. It could have been, had you accepted your role as the eldest son. But you didn’t. So it’s my job to handle these things. You don’t get to hate me for making choices you were too cowardly too take responsibility for.”

“But Daeron could die,” Aegon says, his voice going brittle.

“Any of us could die. We’re in a very dangerous line of work. Greatness killed Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, Huey Long, Medgar Evers, John F. Kennedy, Malcolm X, Vernon Dahmer, Martin Luther King Jr., does that mean we should all give up the fight? Of course not. The work isn’t finished. We have to keep going.”

“Will you stop pretending this is about America?! This is about you wanting to be president, and everything you’ve ever done has been in pursuit of that trophy, and you keep shoving new people into the line of fire and it’s not right!”

“Aegon,” Otto says calmly. “It’s unlikely we’d be able to get him out before the election anyway. Negotiations take time. But if Aemond wins in November, he’ll be in a very advantageous position. The North Vietnamese aren’t stupid. They wouldn’t kill the brother of a U.S. president. They don’t want their vile little corner of the world flattened by nukes.”

“Still, it feels so wrong to leave a brother in peril,” Fosco says. “It is unnatural. Of course Aegon will be upset. We could at least see what a deal to get Daeron released would entail, maybe his arrival home would be a good headline—”

“And who the fuck asked you?” Otto demands, and Fosco goes quiet.

“Okay, then tell Mom,” Aegon says to Aemond. “Tell her you’re going to pretend Daeron made some self-sacrificial vow not to come home until all the other POWs can too. Tell her you’re going to let him get tortured for a few months before you take this seriously.”

Aemond replies cooly: “Why would you want to upset her? She can’t change it. You’ll only make her suffering worse.”

“What do you think?” Otto asks you, and you know that he isn’t seeking counsel. He’s summoning you like a dog to perform a trick, like an actor to recite a line. He’s waiting for you to say that it’s a smart strategy, because it is. He’s waiting for you to bend to Aemond’s will as your station requires you to, as moons are bound to their planets.

“I think it’s wrong,” you murmur; and Aemond is thunderstruck by your treason.

Without another word, you walk into the bathroom, turn on the sink, and gaze down at Aegon’s blood on your palm. For some reason, it’s very difficult to bring yourself to wash it away.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s mid-August now, the world painted in goldenrod yellow and sky blue. The Democratic National Convention is in two weeks. You and Aemond are posing on the beach at Asteria, surrounded by an adoring gaggle of journalists who are snapping photographs and jotting down quotes on their notepads. You’re sitting demurely on a sand dune, you’re building sandcastles with the children you borrowed from Aegon and Helaena, you’re flying kites, you’re gazing confidently into the sunlit horizon where a glorious new age is surely dawning.

“Mr. Targaryen, what is it that makes your partnership so successful?” a journalist asks as flashbulbs pulse like lightning. “What do you think is the most crucial characteristic to have in a wife?”

Aemond doesn’t need to consider this before he answers. He always has his compliment picked out. “Loyalty,” your husband says. “Not just to me or to the Targaryen family, but to our shared cause. This year has been indescribably difficult for me and my wife. I announced my candidacy, we embarked on a strenuous national campaign that we’re currently only halfway through, I barely survived a brutal assassination attempt in May, in July we lost our first child to hyaline membrane disease after he was born six weeks prematurely, and at the beginning of this month we learned that my youngest brother Daeron was taken by the North Vietnamese as a prisoner of war. To find the strength not just to get out of bed in the morning, not just to be there for me and this family in our personal lives, but to tirelessly traverse the country with me inspiring Americans to believe in a better future…it’s absolutely remarkable. I’m in awe of her. And when she is the first lady of the United States, she will continue to amaze us all with her unwavering faith and dedication.”

There are whistles and cheers and strobing flashbulbs. You smile—elegant, soft, practiced—as Aemond rests a hand firmly on your waist. You lean into him, feeling out-of-place, bewildered that you’ve ever slept with him, full of dull panic that soon you’ll have to again.

“How about you, Mrs. Targaryen?” another reporter asks. “Same question, essentially. What is the trait that you most admire in your husband?”

And in the cascading clicks of photographs being captured, your mind goes entirely blank. You can think of so many other people—Aegon, Ari, Alicent, Daeron, Fosco, Cosmo—but not Aemond. It’s like you’ve blocked him out somehow, like he’s a sketch you erased. But you can’t hesitate. You can’t let the uncertainty read on your face. You begin speaking without knowing where you’re going, something that is rare for you. “Aemond is the most tenacious person I’ve ever met. When he has a goal in mind, nothing can stop him.” You pause, and there are a few awkward chuckles from the journalists. You swiftly recover. “He never stops learning. He always knows the right thing to do or say. And what he wants more than anything is to serve the American people. Aemond won’t disappoint you. He’s not capable of it. He will do whatever it takes to make this country more prosperous, more peaceful, and more free.”

There are applause and gracious thank yous, but Aemond gives you a look—just for a second, just long enough that you can catch it—that warns you to get it together. Fifteen minutes later, he and the flock of reporters are headed to one of the guest houses to conduct a long-form interview. This will be the bulk of the article; you will appear in one or two photos, you will supply a few quotes. The rest of the story is Aemond. You are an accessory, like a belt or a bracelet. He’s the person who picks you out of a drawer each morning and wears you until you go out of fashion.

Released from your obligations, you return to the main house and disappear into your upstairs bathroom. You are there for fifteen minutes and emerge rattled, routed. You pace aimlessly around your bedroom for a while, then try again; still no luck. You go back outside and stare blankly at the ocean, wondering what you’re going to do. Down on the beach, Fosco is teaching the kids how to yo-yo. Ludwika is sunbathing in a bikini.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You whirl to see Aegon, popping a Valium into his mouth and washing it down with a splash of straight rum from a coffee mug. “Huh? Nothing. I’m great.”

“No, something’s wrong. You look lost. You look like me.”

You gaze out over the ocean again, chewing your lower lip.

Aegon snickers, fascinated, sensing a scandal. “What did you do?”

Your eyes drift to him. “You can’t make fun of me.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

There is a long, heavy lull before you answer. When you speak, it’s all in a rush, like you can’t unburden yourself of the words fast enough. “I put a tampon in and I can’t get it out.”

Aegon immediately breaks his promise and cackles. “You did what?!” Then he tries to be serious. “Wait. Sorry. Uh, really?”

You’re on the verge of tears. “I’ve been bleeding since I had the baby, and I hate using tampons, I almost never do, but Aemond wanted me to wear this dress for the photoshoot and it’s super gauzy and from certain angles I felt like I could see the pad bulge when I checked in the mirror, so I put a tampon in for the first time in probably a year. I’m not even supposed to be using them for another few weeks because my uterus isn’t healed all the way or whatever. And now I can’t get it out and it’s been in there for like six hours and I’m scared I’m going to get an infection and die in the most pointless, humiliating way imaginable.”

“Okay, calm down, calm down,” Aegon says. “There’s no string?”

“No, I’ve checked multiple times. It must be a defective one and they forgot to put a string in it at the factory and I didn’t notice, or the string somehow got tucked under it, I don’t know, but I can’t get it out, it’s like…the angle isn’t right. I can just barely feel it with my fingertips, but I can’t grab it. I’m going to have to go to the hospital to get it taken out, but I’m scared word will spread and journalists will show up to get photos when I leave and then everyone will be asking me why I was at the emergency room to begin with and I’m going to have to make up something and…and…” You can’t talk anymore. There are other reasons why you don’t want to go to the hospital. You haven’t stepped foot in one since Ari died; the thought makes you feel like you are looking down to see blood on your thighs all over again, like you’ll never have enough air in your lungs.

“Did you bleed through it? Because that should help it slide out easier.”

“I don’t know,” you moan miserably. “I mean, I guess I did, because there was blood when I checked a few minutes ago. I had to stuff my underwear with toilet paper.”

“Why didn’t you just tell Aemond you couldn’t wear this dress?”

You give him an impatient glance. “I’m tired of having the same conversation.” When do you think you’ll be done bleeding? When do you think it’ll be time to start trying again?

Aegon sighs. “Do you want me to get it out for you?”

“Please stop. I’m really panicking here.”

“I’m not joking.”

You stare at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I have fished many objects out of many orifices, you cannot shock me. I am unshockable.”

“I’d rather walk down to the sand right now and strangle myself with Fosco’s yo-yo.”

“Okay. So who are you gonna ask to drive you to the hospital?”

You hesitate.

“I’d offer to do it,” Aegon says, grinning, holding up his mug. “But I’m in no condition to drive.”

“But you are in the proper condition to extract a rogue tampon, huh?”

“Two minutes tops. That’s a guarantee. My personal best is fifteen seconds. And that was for a lost condom, much trickier to locate than a tampon.”

Perhaps paradoxically, the more you consider his offer, the more tempting it seems. No complicated trip and cover story? Over in just a few minutes? “If you ever tell anyone about this, I will never forgive you. I will hate you forever.”

Aegon taunts: “I thought you already hated me.”

You aren’t sure what you feel for him, but it’s certainly not hate. Not anymore. “Where would we do it?”

“In my office. And by that I mean my basement.”

“Your filthy, disease-ridden basement? On your shag carpet full of crabs?”

“You’re in luck,” he jokes. “My crab exterminator service just came by yesterday.”

You exhale in a low, despairing groan.

“Hey, would you rather do it on the dining room table? I’m game. Your choice.”

You watch the seagulls swooping in the afternoon air, the banners of sailboats on the glittering water. “Okay. The basement.”

You walk with Aegon to the house and—after ensuring that no one is around to notice—sneak with him down the creaking basement steps, the door locked behind you. Aegon is darting around; he sets a small trashcan by the carpet and tosses you two towels, then goes to wash his hands in his tiny bathroom, not nearly enough room for someone to stretch out across the linoleum floor.

You’re surveying the scene nervously. “I don’t want to get blood all over your stuff.”

“You’re the cleanest thing that’s ever been on that carpet. Lie down.”

You place one towel on the green shag carpet, then whisk off your panties, discard the bloody knot of toilet paper in the trashcan, and pull the skirt of your dress up around your waist so it’s out of the way. Then you sit down and drape the second towel over your thighs so you’re hidden from him, like you’re about to be examined by a doctor. Your heart is thumping, but you don’t exactly feel like you want to stop. It’s more exhilarating than fear, you think; it is forbidden, it is shameful, it is a microscopic betrayal of Aemond that he’ll never know about.

Aegon moseys out of the bathroom, flicking drops of water from his hands. He wears one of his usual counterculture uniforms: a frayed green army jacket with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, khaki shorts, tan moccasins. He kicks them off before he kneels on the shag carpet. He checks the clock on the wall. “2:07. I promised two minutes max. Let’s see how I do. Ready?”

You rest the back of your head on your linked hands, raise your knees, take a deep and unsteady breath. “Ready.”

But he can see that you’re shaking. “Hey,” Aegon says kindly, pressing his hand down on the towel so you’re covered. “Do you want me to go to the hospital with you? I’ll try to distract people. I’ll pretend I’m having a seizure or something.”

“No, I’m okay,” you insist. “I just want it out. I want this over with.”

“Got it.” And then he begins. He stares at the wall to his left, not looking at you, navigating by feel. You feel the pressure of two fingers, a stretching that is not entirely unpleasant. He’s warm and careful, strangely unobtrusive. Still, you suck in a breath and shift on the carpet. “Shh, shh, shh,” Aegon whispers, skimming his other hand up and down the inside of your thigh, and shiver like you’ve never felt before rolls backwards up the length of your spine. “Relax. You alright?”

“Fine. Totally fine.”

“Oh yeah, it’s definitely in there,” Aegon says. His brow is creased with comprehension. “No string…you’re right, it must either be tangled up somehow or it never had one to begin with. Maybe you accidentally inserted it upside down.”

“Now you insult my intelligence. As if I’m not embarrassed enough.”

“I should have put on a record to set the mood. What gets you going, Marvin Gaye? Elvis?”

“The seductive voice of Richard Milhous Nixon. Maybe you can get him on the phone.”

Aegon laughs hysterically. His fingertips push the tampon against your cervix and you yelp. “Sorry, sorry, my mistake,” Aegon says. There are beads of sweat on his forehead, on his temples; now his eyes are squeezed shut. “I’m gonna try to wiggle it out…”

As he works, there are sensations you can’t quite explain: a very slow-building indistinct desire, a loosening, a readying, a drop in your belly when you think about the fact that he’s the one touching you. Then he happens to press in just the right spot and there is a sudden pang of real pleasure—craving, aching, a deep red flare of previously unfathomable temptation—and you instinctively reach for him. You hand meets his forearm, and for the first time since he started Aegon looks at your face, alarmed, afraid that he’s hurt you again. But once your eyes meet you’re both trapped there, and you can’t pretend you’re not, his fingers still inside you, his pulse racing, a rivulet of sweat snaking down the side of his face, his eyes an opaque murky blue like water you’re desperate to claw your way into. You know what you want to tell him, but the words are impossible. Don’t stop. Come closer.

Aegon clears his throat, forces himself to look away, and at last dislodges the tampon. It appears dark and bloody in his grasp. “No string,” he confirms, holding it up and turning it so you can see. “Factory reject.”

“Just like you.”

He glances at the clock. “2:09. I delivered precisely what was promised.” He chucks the tampon into the trashcan and then grins as he helps pull you upright with his clean hand. “So do you like to cuddle afterwards, or…?”

You’re giggling, covering your flushed face. “Shut up.”

“Personally, I enjoy being ridden into the ground and then called a good boy.”

“Go away.” You nod to where he disposed of the tampon and say before stopping to think: “You’re not going to keep that under your ashtray too?”

Aegon freezes and blinks at you. He smiles slowly, cautiously. “No, I think that would be a little unorthodox, even for me.” He pitches you a clean washcloth from the bathroom closet. “That should get you upstairs.”

“Thanks.” You shove it between your legs and rise to your feet, smoothing the skirt of your dress. “I owe you something. I’m not sure what, but I’ll figure it out.”

“Hey,” Aegon says, and waits for you to turn to him. “Maybe I’m not that bad.”

“Maybe,” you agree thoughtfully.

Just before you hurry upstairs, you steal a glimpse of Aegon in the bathroom, the door kicked only half-closed. He has turned on the water, but he’s not using it yet. Aegon is staring down at the blood on his hand, half-dried scarlet impermanent ink.

~~~~~~~~~~

Hi, it’s me again. I’m in solitary confinement. There’s a guy in the cell next to mine; we talk to each other with a modified version of Morse code. Tap tap tap on the wall, he taps back, etcetera etcetera, you get the idea. You’re not going to believe this, but he says his name is John McCain. Well, actually, he told me his name is Jobm McCbin, but I think that’s because I translated the taps wrong. I might be in the Hanoi Hilton, but at least they have me in the VIP section! Hahaha.

Every few hours the guards show up to do a very impressive magic trick: they wave their batons like wands, I turn black and blue. Sometimes one of my teeth even disappears. Isn’t that something? Houdini would love it. There’s a rat that I’m making friends with. I give her nibbles of my stale bread, she gives me someone to talk to. She’s good company. I’ve named her Tessarion.

Allow me to make something absolutely fucking clear.

I would very much like to be rescued.

#aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen ii #aegon ii #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon x y/n #aegon x you #aegon ii x y/n #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii x you #aegon targaryen x you

[nabitsun]

౨ৎ SPINE BREAKER

fem! reader x nerdy! choso

᭝ synopsis : who knew you just needed good dick from a nerdy boy to lose that attitude.

᭝ tags: smut & little angst? uni (both in their 20s), reader is kind of a minx but you'll pick that up.. (well, all reader's friends are) porn w plot would've guessed, oral sex (f), pussyjob, unprotected (pull out game 10/10), uhh sweet choso duh <3

᭝ wc: 11.5k ...

᭝ notes: t'was supposed to be a one-scene typa oneshot but got carried away - blame it on nerdy! choso. (i remixed that shit 4 times)

"shoko.."

"what is it?"

"no need to put these under my nose i've told you, i'm not coming." you slap her hand away gently, she's holding two entries for a random party in town.

"oh but you will." she smiles.

you know you will, you always do.

"c'mon i have two entries? i can't waste them."

"exactly, ask yuki to come with you."

"she also bought two entries, she's already coming with someone else."

you give her a quizzical look,

"i don't know any better, she didn't say."

"she's probably inviting aoi over again, God.. another reason to not come.." you shake your head at the sole thought of the man.

"who's that?" she says, switching up outfits in front of her as she ponders in front of the mirror.

"y'know that meathead eccentric guy who's like, super fan of her,"

"ohh, that one.." she hums in thoughts "mh, i doubt it though. the last time he was here, he didn't leave with that same smug face. if he keeps getting into trouble the way he does, I doubt she'll invite him back."

she's referring to the last time yuki invited aoi to one of these parties, not to sugarcoat anything but he definitely learnt the hard way to not be an arrogant show off.

"i hope not." you mumble

"stop trying to find excuses. you're coming with me, we're gonna have a good time, end of story."

you let out a crude laugh, "let me rephrase. you're gonna have a good time, and i am gonna get bored out of my mind." you can see her roll her eyes, "i don't even see the point of going there."

"because you don't try to have fun."

"if trying to have fun implies rubbing myself on some smelly drunk strangers with shitty ass songs in the background, then yeah i'd rather not try."

"you're no fun, it's not that bad."

"it's not that bad until you reach your fifth drink" you quick back as you cross your arms over your chest as if to withdraw from this endless battle that you know, will defeat you.

"aren't you being a little dramatic, now?" shoko barely looks at you with raised eyebrows. she knows as well as you do that beyond her tolerance limit she's no longer controllable, which is why you've spent many nights taking her home and trying - as best you could - to bring her back safe and sound. she won't admit it though.

you dismiss the (probably) rhetoric question, "since yuki's coming, why do you want me to go so bad?"

"what a silly question." she sighs as if she'd heard a child say the most gullible nonsense, "i like having you around, that is all."

"something is tellin' me you don't wanna end up third wheeling," you sing song.

"shut up.. you're coming anyway." she avoids your stare and lets out a heavy sigh, "you like the blue one?" she twirls the dress on its hanger around and turn over to face you, she tilts her head on the side as if to weight your future answer.

"i like the purple better."

"that's what i was thinking.."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

being confided in the car with a loquacious shoko didn't help the growing headache you felt in the back of your skull. it had been a tough week.

your exams were approximately in a week and just thinking about it actively made your head hurt even more, and your throat tightened with culpability.

"hey, don't die on me now." shoko glares at you from the side as she's driving to the house. you feel her checking you multiple times.

"i'm fine," you sigh, rubbing your temples in an attempt to soothes the growing pain – that eventually worsened when shoko suddenly hit the brakes, a bit too abruptly to your liking, at a stop sign.

"girl, you either need a good night sleep or some good dick." she clicks her tongue, "look at you," she emphasizes by shaking her head as if the sole sight was too much for her.

"focus on not getting us crashed already."

"i'm serious though, you want some water?"

"no–no, i told you i'm okay." you look ahead of you, resting your head against the headrest for some support ; flashes of cars and traffic lights interacting in the night, "you drive like shit though."

"wow. okay, you'll show me how much of a good driver you are when you'll drive me back tonight, yeah?" she chuckles, taking a second turn on a new avenue.

"having you drunk in the back of the car is a constant fight of trying to not make you throw everything up, of course i have to drive nicely."

you see your friend nodding as she taps her fingers on the steering wheel, apparently at loss of words.

"mhm, thanks?"

you relax back with a content smile, "i prefer that,"

the house is not so far from your respective apartments, also not far from your university, which is around a fifteen minutes drive.

you can't really be mad at shoko for dragging you to those places ; the kind of places where she often ends up with a grain of lucidity to keep her half upright, while all the rest of her cognition makes her look like a psychotic out of an asylum. and even though you're practically always the one driving her back to her place, it doesn't exclude the fact that you need this sometimes.

despite your complaints of not wanting to go with her – for various reasons that you listed prior, but also because of your upcoming exams that are sucking the energy directly out of you – you still kind of look forward to the evening, if you're being honest. it gives you the opportunity to sit back and suspend the course of time for an evening, as ephemeral as it is.

the car stops at a red light as you think back to shoko's words, back in her room.

"yuki still didn't tell you about her special guest ?" you mindlessly ask as you fix your makeup by looking in the mirror of the sunshade, curling your eyelashes with the edge of your index to fix them.

"nope, i might have an idea though.." she pauses, you don't say anything as you wait for her to continue, "you know that guy she hangs out with sometimes? she's not like always with him but i don't think she'd invite anyone else, knowing her.."

"what guy?" you frown, you close the sunshade to look at her.

"uhh, black hair, pale skin, really quiet too. one of those snobs who behaves like termites by staying in their hole, you know. i don't even think i've ever talked to him, or seen him talk for that matter." she squints her eyes to reminisce old memories but the sudden shift of color on the traffic lights makes her focus back on the road.

"like what? a sorta depressed emo boy or something?" you scoff.

she laughs, out of mockery for your credulity it seems, "pretty close. but he's really.. the nerdy type y'know? the type to sit there and not say a word unless spoken to about some stupid nerdy shit, i guess."

"as long as he doesn't talk about fuckin' uni or something like that tonight, i'm good." you sigh at the thought as you close your eyes, clearly ignoring the silent warnings in her eyes.

"oh girl, you're such a fucking minx."

you ignore her offense when you continue your interview, "why would she invite him though? i mean why would he even come?"

"why did you?"

you keep silent.

"exactly," she states, "now keep your curiosity to yourself, you're about to find out."

after a few bends leading to the far end of town, you then remark the students crowding the lawn, stepping everywhere as some of them walk to the entry of the house.

no wonder you had to pay entries to get to some crackhead student party – you understood when you saw the size of the house and how many people there was. you silently hoped there was no one around as they would probably spend one hell of a night.

"not too far, i don't wanna have to carry you fifty meters tonight." you warn as shoko tries to find a good parking spot.

she sends you a hard glare and mumbles something inaudible that almost sounds like an insult. she seems to comply anyways as she parks not to far from the entry.

you were met with fresh air as you stepped outside the car, the extremities of your skin growing cold as well as your bare legs barely warming up with the strides you were taking. it was only eight in the afternoon and yet, you already saw wobbly people trying to walk their way out of the house. the two of you approach the path leading to the house, hearing the music as it gradually intensifies.

"there," shoko throws the car keys to you as you catch them hardly in your hands, "in case i lose them during the evening, you're in charge." you don't say anything, you'll have to drive back home anyways.

the calm atmosphere of an april evening was replaced without much transition as you walked past the open doors. the lights of the traffic lights now seemed far less stimulating in comparison to the sight in front of you. and paradoxically, your headache had disappeared, making you guess it was indeed, shoko's driving.

shoko turned around and took your hand to lead you through the numerous ponds of people hovering the place, talking, singing, dancing or even making out grossly. your steps grew heavier – whether from the combined heat of everyone weighing down on you or the vibrations of the boosted bass – it felt as if you were clearly reaching the pit of hell, both physically and symbolically.

and you could feel that with every steps forward, requiring the unsolicited touch of people brushing past you. the odors coming on play for less than a few seconds to merge with your own scent, just to disappear as soon as it entered past your nostrils. the lights changing from blue to purple to pink or even red, reflecting on the few skin shoko was showing with her slip dress as she was leading the way.

to say you were getting overstimulated was understandable. it was like getting thrown into a pit with only hungry lions to face; and with that dramatic metaphor you noted that the first lion you'd have to fight tonight, was the woman in front of you.

once you both reached what seemed to be the main saloon – though it was hard to decipher with the ton of people and the lack of furniture, beside some occupied couches. you didn't even know who was hosting the party to be fair, it seemed to change every other week like some sort of competition of who's gonna have the privilege to clean the big mess next morning – although you'd guess they probably have someone to do just that.

you were so focused on the environment you didn't even see the golden shadow passing by when a pair of fingers snapped you out of your illusion.

"you look like it's your first time at the zoo."

by the tone and voice you wouldn't even need to turn around. yuki looks at you with crossed arms in a sleeveless black turtleneck and flare jeans with a hint of a smile – out of friendliness or amusement, you didn't know.

"definitely feels like it," you smile back as you reach out to embrace her, which she welcomes.

"i see, shoko brought you here just to be her cab home then hm?" she tilts her head ignoring the way shoko snapped her head in her direction.

"hey don't say that! i wanted her company t–"

she gets interrupted by a loud noise, not seemingly coming from the music but by someone who just seemed to crash down on a wooden coffee table – one of the furniture you had such a hard time to see apparently because some people decided to stand on it. both girls in front of you roll their eyes almost in sync.

"well, looks like the alcohol's kicking in. you're coming with me?" yuki addresses to shoko and you.

"yeah i need to get something, i don't like how aware i am right now." shoko shakes her head in disapproval of the events.

the three of you approach the kitchen, where all the drinks stand upright and ready to use like weapons of war laid out on a table.

you don't venture into drink design, preferring to leave it to shoko or yuki, who apparently know best what they're doing since they're arguing over whether pineapple or cranberry would be more suitable to mix with vodka. once the ingredients are mixed, you all take a sip to mark the start of your evening.

"ew what the–" your body shudder lightly from disgust as you lower your hand over the counter, "tastes like piss seriously.." you whine and look at the wrongdoer.

"told you pineapple was a bad choice." yuki restates, but she's ignored by shoko, who takes the cup from your hand and pours the contents into her own cup.

"fuckin' alcoholic.." you breathe out in amusement.

"i paid for these, might as well make it worth my while." shoko rejoins and it makes you think..

"hey yuki, talking about entries, where's your guest?"

she takes another sip before answering through the music as she leans over, "he told me he wanted to use the bathroom, he went upstairs i think but.." she looks around, ".. i don't see him around, maybe he's stuck in there or something." she shrugs as if it were the most banal piece of information.

you naturally frown at the answer and at her lack of interest as to where her friend might be, so does shoko as she flicks yuki's forehead – earning an annoyed grunt from her victim.

"you can talk about me, you don't even care about your friend."

"he's a dude girl, if he's staying up there there's a reason. i'm sure he's fine," she shrugs once again with round eyes devoid of any remorse.

as they continue to argue mindlessly you sneak your hand on the counter, gliding it across the surface to grab discreetly yuki's cup, probably much tastier with cranberry, and retrieve it back to walk away and leave them to their incessant vindictive promises.

you're sure when you come back they'll still be on their feet – at least you'd like to put this much faith in them – as you rush through agglutinated people to get past the stairs. you don't really know why you're going, maybe you could say he picked your interest ; the thought of a guy like him in the middle of the evening just reminds you of a lamb around a horde of wolves.

you take a couple more sips from your cup and climb the stairs, squeezing past a heated couple making out in the middle of it. you follow down the corridor to find a multitude of doors, and one at the end of it that would be the perfect prototype of the bathroom at the end of a corridor. once you reach it you lean in to rest your ear against the door, trying to gauge potential noises, but nothing.

you smooth your denim skirt down and readjust your purse on your shoulder. you knock once, then twice – over the music you're practically not able to hear your own knocking – until your press your fingers down on the locker slowly, peeking through the door but you're only welcomed with pitch black.

maybe he just got lost among people, or maybe he was one of the ones you saw vomiting their guts out outside – which is less probable, but not impossible. you don't really feel like acting like a detective and exploring every nook and cranny, for fear of also finding yourself in front of people fucking in one of the rooms, so you prefer to turn back on your heels, giving up on the mission you thought would spark up your evening a little bit.

but it doesn't really go as planned actually. as you walk back towards the stairs, you notice a door open ajar, as if to let in a trickle of air, so you don't pay it much attention, but it's only when you start to look away that you see the previously motionless shadow, move.

it's quite honest to think that it's the first effects of the alcohol that are starting to take effect, a blurry vision in addition to poor lighting – results are not promising. you pause in your steps once more, tightening your fingers around your cup as you tilt your head so that you can look through the doorway without acting too much like a voyeur.

that's when you see him. rather tall figure standing up with the major help of big boots, black trousers with a black shirt – or maybe the colors are tainted by the darkness of the room, barely lit up by an amber light. and you do notice the signature buns with a few strands falling on his forehead.

his movements are so ever delicate you're having a hard time to decipher if the stability of your vision is playing tricks on you, or if it's really the slowness of his movements. one of his hands reaches over the shelf, he grabs a book and opens it. so careless.

"didn't know you were also a creep." you open the door without warning, with your cup in a hand and it makes you think that you probably look like some drunken mess barging in a room.

he drops the book on the ground.

"fuck!" his panicked eyes dart to you, pretty purplish eyes, "i'm sorry— shit. i didn't mean to pry." he picks up the book from the ground, bending his knees to grab it softly.

"if anything, i was the one prying." you comment, entering the room. and.. oh? what a sight you're welcomed with. it's a crime to not have seen this man on campus before – or maybe that's his crime to decide to stay inside his room with such a pretty face. his eyebrows are still brought near the center of his forehead, a faint look of worry that doesn't seem to disperse as the seconds pass.

it's also shoko's crime not to have mentioned the few silver jewels adorning his lips and eyebrows, or the charcoal mark layered upon his nose and spread horizontally along the length, covering both cheeks. and maybe there's another crime to add to your list when his tired eyes look away from you, trying to find some sort of distraction, anywhere but on you.

"i wasn't doing anything, i swear." his voice is coated with the sweetest tones though it's deeper than you'd expected – such a contrast with his face.

"careful, there's no better way to appear guilty than with this sentence." and you swear you can see a light frown on his face. you take a couple more steps towards him, he stands still, the book still in his hand as it's closed and tightly wrapped around his fingers.

you reach for the book lazily, and you take good care to not try any brusque movements. it's like you're walking on thin ice and you just start to realize how quieter it got in the room, with the buzzing of music barely heard and a few people chanting way too far.

he doesn't even try to fight it, the book slips past his fingers easily as you grab it, "The Picture Of Dorian Gray". classic. he looks down at you silently, a bit too long as if he's realized something.

"are you planning to come down?"

he shoves his hands in his pockets, shifting part of his weight on one foot in a slightly awkward manner, "i don't really feel like it."

"why is that?" you put the book right in the empty space, where you guess it previously was, squished between the other books.

"i don't really enjoy.. this." he nods to the door.

"what do you enjoy then?"

he runs his tongue over his piercing, wetting his lips and smothering the silver ring with it in the process as he ponders, then locks eyes with you finally.

"not parties at least."

"mhm, i would've guessed."

the room was strangely not that big compared to the house, a very sober room that must have been for guests, at least no personal decorations were visible. you approached the window to watch the racket outside and you found yourself glad to be upstairs at the sight.

"yuki was getting worried though." you know it's not true, but you're trying your best, you really are.

he turns around to face you, still not moving an inch from his initial position though, "oh so you're one of yuki's friend? the one she said would come?"

"it depends on whether she talked about a little pain in the ass or a cheeky cynic."

"she used the term.. « bothersome minx », if i recall."

you chuckle softly and put your cup down on the windowsill, gliding it on the side as you turn to look at him. he eyes you up and down, tapping his fingers along his thighs and you're not sure if you are in good shape due to the previous consumption or if he's just being the analytical man he's known to be.

"what's your name?"

"choso."

"choso.." you introduce yourself as well, he repeats your name just the same, "wanna sneak out?"

"what do you mean? like right now?"

"yeah, why not? i mean you can stay in that room as long as you want but i doubt you'll have much fun." he turns his head to glance at the door lazily, gauging the proposal.

"what are we gonna do?"

"i don't know, we'll see." you shrug with a smile and you're not sure if playing the russian roulette with him is gonna get you anywhere but you're too interested to play it safe.

"hm, i want to be back for yuki though, she's gonna need a ride home."

"you will." you say simply, but choso raises his eyebrows, waiting for more based arguments rather than a simple affirmation. so you continue,

"we can just take the car, drive for a couple of minutes and you'll be back here before you even notice."

there's a few seconds of silence where you both look at each other, expecting an answer. he sighs, lowering his head and you think he's about to decline your invitation but..

"alright, but just for some time."

you can't help but grin widely, you eagerly dig in your purse for the car keys shoko gave you and take quick steps towards the exit. as you wait for him on the doorstep you see him take a few strides, but towards the windowsill where you previously were standing. he grabs the drink you left dismissively, his jacket on the bed, and throws your empty cup in the bin just in the corner of the room as he walks back towards you.

he smiles gently at you and closes the door behind the two of you.

you practically had to fight your way through the crowd waiting for you downstairs. you thought the hardest part would be getting through to the front door, but once outside you found yourself in a quandary as you had to tiptoe to avoid stepping on any garbage, sticky liquids or dead drunks on the lawn.

choso asked you if you were able to take the wheel, you told him yes, of course – you'd only had one drink that had barely shaken you. he insisted on driving anyway.

the place where you had him taken was one of the only ones not too far away that was still open at this hour; and especially one that didn't look like a crowded bar.

a small café-restaurant run by a woman who was far too old to still be on her feet serving until late at night – but she always did it with too much care that you always resigned yourself to going there, even if the prices were higher.

the car ride had been remotely silent, with only a few instructions as to the routes to take and choso asking you if you wanted to put the heat on.

you took your seats on the colorful banquettes, waiting for the woman to come and take your order. the contrast was quite ironic, seeing you and choso dressed for some fancy evening in a place that was very reminiscent of that kind of little retro restaurant in the 50s, with the famous jukebox playing ballads from Elvis Presley, and the endless greasy hot dogs displayed on the counter.

"didn't think you'd follow a stranger blindly,"

he rests his forearms on the table and bring his eyes back on you as they were occupied scanning the place, "you're no real stranger, you're yuki's friend after all."

"oh i'm sure you were the kinda kid to enter some random white van." you say, more to yourself though as you look at the menu briefly. he doesn't say anything in return, and you don't look up either to see if he's looking at you or not.

"tell me choso," his name is like the ring of a bell, his eyes widen just a little, "how come i've never seen you around? you're on campus right?"

"mhm, i guess," he opens his mouth as if to start a sentence but he soon renounces by closing it immediately, he reaches for his nape to massage it, "i guess i don't really hang out around campus."

"majoring in?"

"computer science."

you would have bet your entire fucking fortune on it. you let a smile slip through.

"um, you're friends with gojo satoru too, right?"

the question definitely surprises you, everyone knows who's satoru, and that's not to his advantage as he's more or so known for being one hell of a jerk. you nod and he takes a deep breath, one that speaks volumes.

"i know what he says about me, you know. i just don't want you to think i'm like that." he admits and the sight almost makes you frown, you don't know if it's pity or empathy but you shake the feeling away.

"what do you think he says about you?"

he pauses for a few seconds, he's quick to bring his hands around his ear piercing, fidgeting with them as he relaxes back against the banquette, he finally crosses his arms over his chest.

"they say things that aren't necessarily wrong but aren't totally true either."

when he says they, he's probably referring to shoko, or maybe suguru if you think about it, though he doesn't seem to care about people's business that much.

you'll blame choso's inability to communicate properly for his ambiguous answers and not because he's trying to pull a series of enigma right now.

"mhm, and don't you think i have a mind of my own?"

his eyes almost pop out of their sockets and he once again leans against the table, clearly not settled on how to sit still, "no–no i didn't mean to say that ! i'm sure you do," he says softly, yet still very much alarmed.

you almost regret your choice of words but he's so goddamn sweet it would be a shame not to tease him a little.

"i don't know i just, don't want you to think badly of me." his fingers fidgets with the salt and pepper shaker in front him.

you know you're in no position to talk, you even feel embarrassed if you're being honest, as you were not just about an hour ago making fun of him in the car with shoko – that, he doesn't know.

the old woman comes back to take both your orders and it's as if the bubble you were both in had just burst, bringing you back to the café as the music gradually came back to your senses. choso orders a strawberry milkshake and you take a blueberry.

the way he talks is so sweet, it makes you physically wince, and let's not talk about the way he looks at the old woman like she was cotton candy to the eye. you think it's all an act he's about to drop when she leaves but, even when she returns behind the counter he returns his eyes on you with the same look ; heavy lids – that you don't know if they are the consequence of a long day or if they're always like that – with shades or purple circling them.

"you'll know that the only time I take satoru's opinion into account is when I have to make a choice for lunch. you're okay." you assure.

he nods slowly and you see his face soften at your reassuring words.

"i don't know why you hang out with them." he says and it's so faint you're not even sure if he mumbled to himself or if he actually talked to you.

you tilt your head on the side with a frown, "what do you mean?"

he takes some time to answer, to gather his words or because he's hesitant you don't really know.

"you were always so nice to me," but you're still puzzled so he continues, "back in high school, you weren't hanging out with this kind of people, y'know."

you don't even pay attention to the way he's not so subtly trying to bring your friends down, you readjust yourself in your seat, visibly confused.

"i don't.. i mean, we were in the same class?"

choso shrugs, not really phased to see you don't remember him at all, "you had a lot of friends. plus, i didn't have these two." he points his finger up to show his hair attached in two buns atop of his head as if it could be the sole reason of your memory lapse. silly.

"i like this look on you. you look nice with them." you say as you look at the hairstyle thoroughly. the praise seemed to have gotten to him because you can see a small smile on his lips as he looks around impatiently for the drinks to arrive – or maybe he just needed to lay his eyes somewhere else than on you.

the drinks arrive shortly after, not surprising due to the lack of customers as it's practically just the two of you there. you don't really say anything much, comfortable in the silence you're both in as you grab your order to taste them. you don't really want to continue the conversation about your friends right now, and choso seems to have dropped the idea of it too.

choso watches you as you lean in to wrap the straw around your lips, elbows on the table to support your body on top. he also watches the way the milkshake climbs up the straw to pour into your mouth, away from prying eyes.

"you want some?"

his blurred eyes meet yours.

"huh?"

you smirk, only because you're enjoying the look on his face and you want it to worsen. you straighten up properly, away from that damn straw and focus on choso, who grows a little embarrassed, somehow – you see it, he backs down a little just at the sight.

"i know what you want," you say, almost above a whisper, stirring the straw with painful slowness.

"you just gotta ask."

choso doesn't say anything. he doesn't really know what to say actually as he flicks his eyes between your eyes and your lips. he's panicked, that's one thing anyone could notice if only they had their attention on him.

"you want a taste, right?" you say with such a languid voice he has to look around to see if you're putting on a show for anyone around, in vain of any spectators. choso raises his eyebrows, devoid of any answers.

"my drink, you idiot."

such a fool, his pouding heart slows back down quietly into his chest and it shows by the prior rapid breaths that are replaced by long and painful sighs. and what a disguised curse to be around you. he doesn't even seem to notice the degrading name he got assigned, you're not even sure he's got to hear the short sentence correctly.

"um.. yeah, sure."

you glide the drink forward on the table until it reaches his fingers which firmly wrap around the glass – and if you were from the police you'd suspect it's to hide his shaking fingers. he puts his own lips where yours once were and begins to sip through the straw. he doesn't have to look up to see you watching intently, he can feel it.

"there you go, how is it?"

"s'good." he nods.

the aroma melts on his tongue, almost sugarcoating the strawberry he previously ingested and the sour taste of a little humiliation.

"i wonder what's going on in that little head of yours. you're so analytical with everything."

"you make me feel like I have to be."

a head tilt from you is all he needs to know he has to develop his thoughts.

"be aware of my surroundings."

your answer gets stuck in the back of your throat when you hear the buzzing of your phone in your purse, you dig it out : a call from shoko.

you excuse yourself and choso simply nods, you bring the phone to your ears and you soon regret the movement as dissonant noises come to deafen your drums – urging you to pull your phone away from your ear.

"h-hey!! where.." the sentence is cut by another voice, and maybe some screams, you don't really know. you squint your eyes as you try to decode the semblance of sentences thrown at you, you call shoko but she doesn't seem to be on the line although the call indicates two minutes past.

choso continues to sip on his milkshake and he looks just as confused as you are.

"where r'you–" you don't need to ask her if she's drunk or not, you can hear it through the slurring of her words. you don't answer her question though, you know it will cause more damage than anything to say you'd preferred to leave the party to go sip on some milkshake with a man you're supposed to despise more than anything.

after five minutes of negotiation, you finally find out what shoko wanted - simple curiosity as to where you were, but also a call for help with the disappearance of choso, who was supposedly trapped in the toilet, according to yuki. you promptly hang up and finish your milkshake in a one go.

"she's in trouble?" choso gauges your reaction and imitates you, putting away his own things as he puts his jacket on.

"she's about to be if we don't come pick her up now." you place you purse back on your shoulder as you draw enough of cash to cover the bill and tip, "c'mon, let's go."

choso wasn't so wrong in the end, since you both arrived in time to prevent a tragedy from happening, one more on the list that shoko may not remember - despite the scale of it. you and choso agreed to take back your possessions – in this case yuki and shoko, who seemed to be standing on their own two feet only by some celestial force.

no need to to depict the end of the night, it was always the same when you went out with shoko. though something – or rather someone – during evening had told you it wasn't going to be the same ; that your tranquility was long gone, that you had now committed, whether you'd like it or not apparently, to be a fucking babysitter.

and he was fast with it, he didn't wait a week or so, he didn't even try to make it natural. the day after the party, choso went straight to talk to you, and the boy didn't even care if you were with your group of friends, the same that vehemently talked shit behind his back.

he didn't even try to wipe that smile off of his face, nor to calm the rosy tint on his cheeks that left little room for other interpretations. he didn't even try to cover for you when he gave you change for the milkshake you'd paid for – and God he didn't seem to understand that if you'd paid him it didn't mean you particularly wanted to give him the impression he owed you anything in return.

he also didn't notice that you didn't appreciate his refund, that you would have preferred to send him off, but that under the pressure from satoru and shoko, who were only viciously agreeable to him, you had to accept his exchange with a big smile.

you really didn't know whether his behavior was of the order of undisputed innocence or whether it was a means of publicly humiliating you.

in any case, the incident didn't go away, not with satoru and shoko around the corner, who were both just explaining the situation to suguru in the middle of lunch in the refectory.

"she left yuki and i alone with a bunch of freaks," shoko declares through the clattering sounds of the cantine while pointing her fork on you as she explains the evening, once again.

"you didn't seem to mind when i pulled you away from one that you were trying to dissect open with a knife." you insist, once again.

you stir the fuming food and distribute it homogeneously over your plate to let it cool down, ignoring shoko's words as she continues the story.

"it's kinda funny that you spent the evening with a guy who's a carbon copy of the type you say you hate." suguru intervenes and you sigh at the snarky remark. satoru keeps chewing on his food carelessly, clearly enjoying the roast you're subject to.

you shake your head at the statement, "spending an evening with someone and actually enjoying the time spent is different."

"mhm, clearly if i hadn't called you you'd still be making out with him right now.." shoko mocks and you swear you can see satoru's lips twitch in amusement.

"we just talked !" you half whisper, half scream, letting your food drop into your plate, causing your friends to shush you.

"c'mon just say you like him, we'll still be friends y'know?" you look deadpan at satoru, a look that doesn't require any words.

"i mean everyone knew he had a crush on you in high school, it wouldn't be surprising if it was still the case." suguru shrugs, you don't know if if he's being honest this time or if it's another joke. you choose to believe the latter.

you shake your head and look around the cantine to ease your mind from your shit friends, which doesn't seem to be the thing to do as satoru adds another weight to your already heavy shoulders.

"what? looking for your new pet? homeboy is probably hiddin' in his room right now. i mean, when doesn't he?"

you breathe out tensely, butchering your food with your cutlery as you clearly picture some detailed ways you'd like to treat the man in front of you.

"fucking assholes.."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

after what happened during the last couple of days you really tried taking measures. good measures. and it was kind of ironic how choso should've been the type to try and dodge any interaction with your friends, but now you were the one trying to sneak past him.

he was nice. you'll give him that.

but he was stupid. so fucking careless. and really naive because he surely did think an evening sipping on milkshake meant something along the lines of "will you marry me?"

anytime he spotted you in between classes he just had to walk in your direction. whether it was just small talk or not, he talked to you every. single. time.

but he was so nice. you couldn't just shove it in his face? could you? despite shoko's encouragement to drop him there's something that just.. didn't feel right. and may God forgive you, but you know this is certainly not the advent of your good morals.

though all of that clingy attitude really pissed you off, you did find yourself thinking about that evening and how Elvis Presley was so annoyingly being repeated in the background. how his eyes, despite their darkness and exhausted features, never ceased to display the most authentically pure emotions you've ever seen.

"i don't know i just, don't want you to think badly of me."

you sigh, heavily. some conflicted parts of you wanted to know more, an evening wasn't enough to just send him off right away, right? who was he? who does he claim to be? and the fact that you don't remember him, no, you can't remember him doesn't help either to your curiosity. because you did search through your yearbooks and to see his face didn't help you bring back lost memories.

shit maybe you just need someone to ring some senses to you but you also don't want shoko nor satoru to do it, as much as you hate to think about it they'll taint your vision more than they'll clear it out. in some ways choso was right ; their judgment might have their part to play in the way you think. in some ways only.

or maybe you're trying to blame your friends for your shitty behavior which only makes you feel ten times worse. you let out a grunt as you get up from your chair, going to the library to study with a clouded mind wasn't a good idea and even more at the end of the day.

failing to have a cigarette you can borrow from shoko right now, you choose to take a walk around campus. it's not the best sight but the air is far more fresh outside.

oh and how ironic was it when your feet led you upstairs to the dorms. it's not like you even planned your itinerary, it was like second nature to you, plus the air definitively felt a lot more breathable.

out of all the rumors you've heard, you knew at least one was true : choso was an orphan ; he stayed in the dorms right above the college structure.

and how absurd that was when you feet planted right outside his doorway – you can say thank you to the floor tenant files that didn't seem to care about the resident's personal information.

the thing missing though is your speech. you didn't have anything in mind. fuck what are you thinking? you're not even sure you'd want to see him at all, despite your evident location. before you could produce another stupid thought your fist met the door to knock twice.

it was about six seconds of wait that felt like half a minute as you just stood there outside. the door opened slightly ajar, and it reminded you of the first time – well not counting high school – that you saw him.

long strands of black hair dangled in front of the doorway before he stepped closer to fill the gap with his width. of course his eyes widened. they always do when they meet yours.

"oh, hey," he quickly looked over his shoulder, behind him and lowered his eyes to take a look at himself.

it was an agreeable sight, you will not deny. his hair were hanging loose at shoulder length, wearing only an oversized white t-shirt (was it oversized or just his actual stature ?) and gray sweatpants. you almost felt like diverting your eyes away as if you were prying on something you shouldn't see.

"hey."

silence.

"are you okay?" he stays still, swiping his tongue inside his lower lip while playing with his ring piercing you presume ; a habit of his you've noticed. you don’t really know if he's asking to be polite or if you genuinely look like you need help.

"mhm," you nod, "can i come in?"

"uhh, yeah" he takes another look behind him and you're starting to think maybe you came at the wrong time. "yeah, of course." he opens the door wider and steps aside, you enter and to your relief nothing crazy's going on.

the room is neatly organized to your surprise, not that you were imagining a slum, but you were expecting something more akin to the prototype of the homebody student. you avoid looking too much everywhere, you didn't come for that anyway.

choso retreats to his desk where he leans against it, his hands on the length of the edge to support his body.

"looks serious eh?" he escapes a small laugh, almost a scoff actually as he scratches his forearm and you suddenly want to leave the room because of how miserable you feel.

"we have to stop this.. thing here." you point to him then yourself.

you almost feel bad for him. almost, because of the way his hand previously on his other arm stops in the previous scratching motion, because of the way he only stares at you for a few solid seconds.

"what do you mean?"

"you know what i mean," you sigh "i don't even know why you suddenly want to talk to me anyway," you shake your head and look down. it's not even something you're blaming him for, you're really wondering why he'd want to talk to someone who plays on both sides with him.

"it's not.. that sudden. i've always wanted to talk to you." he tells you softly, "have i done something wrong?"

he's too nice with you it makes you audibly grunt.

"do you have a crush on me or something?"

silence again. a longer one this time. you didn't really mean to blurt it out like that, you'd envisioned something a little more subtle but frustration got the best of you.

his body shifts, his hands move closer to his body and he crosses his arms over his chest, tapping his biceps with his finger repeatedly. he stays silent.

"it's a yes or no question choso."

he pinches the bridge of his nose just where his mark is and breathes out a small "fuck".

"alright. it's ok if you don't wanna use your words, you certainly don't fail showing it to the whole fucking world anyway."

he takes a step forward rapidly, a single step but big enough to be closer to you nonetheless.

"i'm sorry, shit, i didn't know it would make you so upset. i'm sorry." he apologies. and you don't know if he realizes how upset he looks in the situation, he runs a hand through his hair in distress and you can see how agitated he is.

his face is right above yours, you don't really have to do anything but to look up to meet his panicked eyes. and it's a complete contrast how your eyebrows almost hurt from the frown while his face is contorted in worry.

and you'll blame your beating heart on your irritation and building up anger and definitely not because of his sole proximity. you try to commit to that thought at least.

"you're insufferable you know that?" you hug yourself as you readjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder.

he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek and looks away for a flitting second before bringing his eyes back on you, or your lips ; he's very indecisive poor boy doesn't know where to look when he has you this close to him.

"i.. i didn't know know how to tell you i'm sorry i just–"

"oh shut up,"

you practically throw yourself on him as it's the only way he'll eventually stop apologizing, one of your hands quickly wrap around his neck, to the base of his nape pulling him closer as your lips crash onto his. choso stumbles back at the contact and his hands reach instinctively on your waist for support, his body hits the desk where he stood prior and he escapes the faintest gasp at the harsh contact.

you wouldn't even have dreamed of doing this – fuck if shoko would come to know about this she'd probably laugh at you. but he's so gentle in his every moves, his every words, so naive about your motives it would be a damn shame if he knew what kind of crap person you really are. if the two of you really had to stop talking like you stated, your only wish would be to at least do this before.

choso's fingers grip more tightly on your waist, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your shirt practically playing with the hem of it. he pulls you closer and parts his lips to kiss you back avidly while your nails dig deeper around his nape at the feeling, before sliding them back along his jaw to orient his head at a better angle. you feel him exhale through his nose as you slow down your pace, slowly detaching your lips from his.

"y'taste good." he whispers against your lips, his forehead is practically touching yours and it's only now that you realize how much his features have changed within seconds. his eyes are blazed, breathless and fingers shaky around your waist. you'll blame the taste of your lips of the cherry gloss you're wearing – and he's wearing too now that his lips are shiny from it.

you're no better though, you swallow as you catch your breath, your heart is pounding in your chest so much you also hear it through the buzzing of your ears, coating the sounds around you.

"yeah? what is it, never kissed before?" you smile, you'll never get tired of teasing him, not when he always gives you the same look.

"not like that," he pants and smile back at you, a little smile that soon turns into a frown, "i.. shit, i wanna make you feel good. can i?" his voice is so low it makes your head spin.

"then do it," you kiss him once slowly and you feel him shudder at the new sensation, "make me feel good." you kiss him twice, even slower this time.

no need to say it twice for choso, if it's not you latching on him right now he definitely doesn't feel like backing down, he takes your answer for words and his hands find your cheeks instantly, cupping them as he puts a lot more pressure, making you step back. your hands lower down on his shoulders and your purse slip down your arm until it reaches the ground harshly ; not your priority number one right now.

he presses his body even closer to you and you don't need an explanatory drawing of what's happening down his pants as you feel his hard on pressed against you. you put your thigh forward, adding your own pressure against him and the moan that escapes his lips is enough to make your skin shiver and your panties tighter. much tighter.

still glued to each other, he guides you to his bed, just behind and it takes a couple steps back for your calves to hit the furniture, your body drops down the bed as you look up at him and you think he's about to slouch his own body on you, but he kneels down right before you instead.

you put your hands on the bed behind you to push yourself farther against the wall but to your – second – surprise he puts his hands flat on your knees.

"i need you right here," he soothes as he taps your knee lightly, making you stop in your movements. you don't know if he's about to do what you think he's about to do but your questions get quickly answered.

"can i?" he asks as he flicks his eyes onto your skirt, asking permission to touch it you guess. you nod eagerly and he leans back slightly to take your mary janes off instead, right foot, then to the left foot so ever carefully and putting them aside on the floor. you watch him and notice how steady and focused he looks despite his torso heaving up and down rapidly, you see it.

he straighten up on his knees and the sight has you gulping down, you're on his bed, he's on the ground just right in front of you, his eyes scan your face thoroughly you almost feel overwhelmed by it. your skirt gets pulled down easily, oh but so slowly, you prop yourself up on your elbows to make it easier for him.

"so pretty." he breathes out, he discards the piece of clothing on the floor and places both of his hands on your hips to bring your body closer to him as he easily glides you.

he leans in and his face is only inches away from your crotch, he glances at you before returning back on your clothed cunt. his thumb circles the hem of your panties as if he's admiring the sewing method and your breath hitches when his thumb drops a little lower, down where you clit hides beneath the fabrics.

"don't have all day, choso" you gulped, your hands bawl into tight fists in apprehension.

"okay–okay." he coos and immediately grant your wish ; he pulls your panties down and you're now bottom naked on his bed. it gives you a real reason to be embarrassed for sure because you didn't really "plan" on being that drenched from a single quick make out session. and the more he stares at your exposed cunt the more you grow impatient.

"choso.." you try to warn him but it comes out as a whine instead. he shifts as he gets closer to the edge of the bed, he wraps his hands under your legs to grab onto your thighs firmly.

"gonna make you feel good ok?"

"jus' do it–" you choke on your own words when you feel his tongue on you. a single lap and you're already panting in the room like a mad woman, "ffuck." you whine and your hand reaches immediately down to get a hold of something – his hair in this case which is being in his vision doesn't stop him nonetheless to complete his mission – as it's the only way you'd call it due to how devoted he looks between your legs.

he gives you a few more laps, down from your entrance to the very top on your clit, and he's diverse in his moves you'll give him that – he goes either way from the right side, then the left side, until he decides to flick his tongue against your pussy from side to side this time. you'd honestly thought the man would go down on you as his first time, his first experiment but it looks like you're the one experimenting for the first time his tongue skills – that, you don't miss to point out.

"shit- where the fuck did you learn to do that?" you pant, you push his hair back the best you can though it still falls atop of your pussy, giving you extra tingles on the way.

the sounds are purely gross, the room is nothing but a space for filth, hearing liquids collides whether it'd be his saliva on you or your slick on him. doesn't help from your restrained moans nor from his own whimpers that resonate lowly against your skin – it's almost as if he's being louder than you are.

he props your legs up onto his own shoulders when he leans down further into your pussy, getting better access while your thighs are in the air, tensing and quivering at each touch.

you start to seriously lose it when you feel pressure on your clit, getting even more stimulated your head starts to feel dizzy ; his thumb brushes against your folds to gather your juices before going up to your clit while his tongue starts to push down your entrance.

he mumbles something but you can't understand either from the pounding in your ears or because he factually has his mouth buried in your cunt.

"you feel so– fuck!" you almost cry out when he accelerates the pace on your clit "so fuckin' good shit," and before you get hold of the situation your muscles contract, your thighs wraps even tighter around choso and you're not really in the mindset to care if you're hurting him right now when you're nothing more than a trembling mess under him.

when you release the grip you have around his head with your legs, he slowly backs down and wipes under his chin with the back of his hand, breathing heavily as if he had just come flooding back from the water after a long dive. the sight has your brain rebooting from the start, simply short circuited.

"t'was okay?"

you almost feel indignation for his own self when you look at him in disbelief, "okay? thought i was losing my mind over there," you slowly sit up as you look at him with heavy lids. you probably look like you got run over.

"want me to get something to–"

he stops once he sees you getting your top over your shoulders, taking it off and throwing on the chair near his desk. you get closer to the edge of the bed, still sit up on it as you cage him between your legs since he's still kneeling on the ground.

"well.. i guess you have other plans..?" he murmurs under his breath, he doesn't even try to hide the fact he's staring, the man is practically glued to you like when kids stand too close to a tv.

"you're a perceptive one aren't you?" you leaned down to slip your fingers under his shirt, near his hips to take it off too, "unless you don't want to?" you whisper, stopping your movements to get his approval before starting anything but oh don't you dare take your hands off of him because he'll put them back on their original place.

"no–no, i do. i want you." his eyes meets yours and it's as if repentance was just knocking at your door and you don't know if you're willing to open the door because of how good he ate your pussy or because you really feel like you should do it.

"good."

you knew choso was introverted, a little shy even, the kind of men to be a little prudish even, the ones who'd rather stay indoors, the ones who's rather not get touched by anybody, even less when those places are under their clothes. you thought he was that kind of man when you'd first met him.

you got fooled. once when he mastered the technique of his tongue on you a few minutes ago that got your jaw dislocating in pleasure. but twice now that his shirt is past his torso, up to get through his head and you see yet another pair of silver jewelry. one on each of his nipples.

and your reaction is suited honestly, you just drop your arms and leave him struggling with the shirt on his own as his head is still tangled inside of it, you swear under your breath as you look at the two shiny buds. and maybe he did it as a distraction, getting two silvery eyes up his breast might be one hell of a surprise when you're trying to look at his whole torso ; but even in that case you wouldn't get why on earth you'd need to be distracted from his upper body, because what a fucking view.

once you see choso's head pop out of his t-shirt you're so turned on you're scared if you move you'll just leave the biggest pond of your slick on his covers ; you're feeling genuinely embarrassed to say the least.

"come here, get on your back." you tap on your left to show him the way on his own bed, he executes your demand without much more convincing. he lays down where his pillow rest, propping his head up a little as he still supports his body on his forearms, watching you.

which is not such a bad thing as it gets his whole upper body tensing up from the position, and you realize you got fooled thrice because of how defined his body is, muscles tracing his skin in the prettiest way.

you crawl closer to him and take his sweatpants off, throwing them along with the other remaining of clothes on the ground.

you straddle choso, only in his boxers now and he's always on the lookout for your next move, eyes traveling along every part of your body standing so close to him. you lean in to kiss him again, a simple kiss this time, not heated, nor passionate as you'd intended earlier, almost too intimate to your liking. you feel him relax under you, no, melt. he melts under your kiss, his back rests totally flat on his bed now and his hands travel along you jaw, touching you like porcelain if it were to break.

"it's only fair i return the favor, right?" you tell him as you lean near his ear, and if you chose to ignore the bulge in his underwear when you got him out off his pants you're certain you can't now. it's entirely poking through the fabrics to lean oh so perfectly against your entrance you have to fight back a moan just at the feeling. how embarrassing.

"fuck, please do." he moans, his hands get back on your hips slowly, pressing his fingers into your skin lightly. though you'd rather take some of your time, if you're in this might as well do it right.

you kiss your way down his body, from his lips, to his jaw, on his neck a few times — just because you love watching his adam's apple bobble up every time he gulps when you touch him — near his collarbones, on his torso and why not on the twins piercings he's got on it too.

at the contact of your tongue swirling around his nipples choso instantly throws his head back on his pillow, earning a deep breath from him along with a "fuckk" he couldn't bite back. at the same time your hips start to grind, slowly, cautiously, you wouldn't want to get off on his boxers now would you?

your hands reach down his boxers, under it to grab his dick but... maybe you got fooled fourth time. or maybe the saying is right, the quietest got the biggest and he's a living proof of the statement, you can attest. you break the contact on his sensitive buds and sit up correctly to look at it lay flat on his stomach, curved and strained in its own blood flow. you really have to close your mouth to not drool on it directly and you mumble something unintelligible.

his hands rest on your thighs, they try to guide you forward, they really do and you let them. you bring your hips forward, pussy gliding – as it's the only way it would be described, you're soaked – on his dick, just slipping through your wet folds, enough to mold him on the way forward, then all the way back when you return to your position. you let your hands fall on his abs, you're not even tired, you just need the support right now or else you're afraid you'll just collapse right onto him.

"God, you feel so good," you whine, grinding slowly along his cock and you honestly don't know how he's handling it down there 'cause it feels too fucking good for you.

"n-need you right now," he painfully gulps, he looks at the friction with a frown and he lowers his head back on the pillow, "shit..." he whimpers, such a wobbly voice yet he's not even inside of you thus far. you don't know who's winning the embarrassing contest but he might win over you if you keep giving him good pussy.

"so sweet. you're too fuckin' sweet y'know that?" you praise and choso's hands come directly to grab at your tits, cupping the roundness of them with both hands as he massages them slowly, pinching your nipple between his index and his thumb.

you're done with being patient actually as it is your cue to wrap your fingers around the head of his cock. you brush your thumb over his tip and his whole body jerks off from the touch, you slide your whole hand down the base of it as you pull yourself up on your knees.

you thought you'd reached the epitome of pleasure when he was between your legs just now, and you don't know what other seventh heaven you landed on when he entered you, but it was just as similar.

the head of his cock has just slipped through and you're already full of it, full of him. and you have no doubt when you look at choso that he's feeling it too. you both moan at the new feeling, a feeling you were too puerile to treat with such disdain when you looked at him, a feeling you'd never come to know if he didn't slightly hurt your ego with his kindness.

"holy shit, so fucking tight f'me.." he purrs through the whole process, his hands help you go down, steadily and slowly at your pace when more than half of his cock has sunk into you. your legs shake slightly when you've reached the end, you start to bounce up and down lazily, hearing every gushing sounds of both of your slick as they disperse through your organs.

he can't help it, you don't know if it's because you've teased him so much pior that he can't hold it in anymore, but the grip on your hips gets tighter, the bouncing up and down his cock gets messier, and even though your thighs start to feel numb you soon understand that choso has your back. his hips starts to buck back into you to meet your hips halfway, skin to skin as they collide rapidly.

"f–fuck, choso, you're gonna make m–"

"i know, i know." he soothes, you lean into him, chest to chest as you put your hands on his shoulders. and you can't help but be extremely grateful right now as you're practically laying down on him, he's fucking right into you with the help of his hands pressing down your hips as he moans in your ears softly.

"wanna make this pretty pussy mine– fuck. wanna make you mine." he whimpers and you can hear the way his throat tightens that he's close. you wouldn't wanna lie saying you're not – to be honest you've been wanting to come as soon as you hoped on his thighs.

you don't know if it's the heat of the moment, because you're taking his dick so fucking perfectly inside of you that the thought of being with him doesn't really repulse you that much, for it actually seems pleasant enough to imagine it.

"fuck–fuck-i'm gonna cum!"

and you sincerely hope nobody is in their dorms right now because you're sure the whole floor knows what their nerdy resident is doing to some resentful student on campus. he's so vocal you wouldn't have it any other way, specially when every each one of his moans reach your cunt before your ears.

you feel your legs tremble and your nails dig deeper into his skin when you reach your second orgasm, and not one for the weak ones as your pussy clenches so tightly you think you're sucking choso's dick whole with the suction. your hips get pulled up on spot when choso releases his own shot in between your bodies, his dick springing out from where it was caged. you still tremble on him when he breathes heavily, coming down to his high.

you both stay silent for a couple of seconds and reality hits you back.

"you're too good to me." he murmurs as he wipes some of the mascara under your eyes with his thumb, you head is still near the crook of his neck, you don't move.

oh only if he knew.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"can you believe nerdy boy got laid?"

you turn to shoko almost too rapidly, "what?"

"i know, who would do that.."

you don't say anything. you don't really wanna say anything for now, but you know shoko isn't saying that just to make the conversation when she waits for an answer. a valid one.

©nabitsun !

thank you for reading :D

#choso x reader #jjk smut #jjk choso #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #choso oneshot #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso smut #choso x female reader #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #finished this at 5 but it was worth it #i love this #jujustsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #jujutsu choso

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

Hello! I hope you're having a good day! I was thinking about this Bakugou, where he penches his s/o lips whenever she teases him or compliments him, saying that her lips should be punished for driving him crazy or smth.

I just find this idea cute if you please can write about it 😭🤍

a/n:..wait...cus why are you a literal genius this got a lil kick teww ittttt.. (kinda soooorta angsty but like if you squint, katsuki is bad at feelings but he tries his hardest, kissing, no biting for once wow its been a while..dont worry yall its comin, short lil drabble, hope u enjoy ! <3)

"your eyes are so pretty katsu."

katsuki bakugou thinks he'll never be able to get used to you when he looks down at your head in his lap, raising a brow as a defensive mechanism to not turn red all the way down to his chest.

"where'd this come from ?" he leans into your hand almost reflexively when you place it against his cheek, still not breaking eye contact as you smile at him, he feels warmth crawl up his back and it makes him squint.

"nowhere," you run your finger across his cheek, than across his nose bridge "just wanted to tell you."

he gulps, clearing his throat his eyes fight to keep looking into yours, relaxed and happy and comfortable. it feels strange to see someone so comfortable around him.

"oh yeah ?"

"mhm, your lashes are so long too." you muse. it's casual, it comes out so easily.

he feels his heart beat loudly against his chest when you run your fingers over his eyebrows. you keep on touching him, and he likes it, usually. but it's overwhelmingly nice, you're overwhelmingly nice and he doesn't know what to do with it. because bakugou isn't sweet like you. he can't casually tell you that he loves your eyes, that he could be perfectly content staring at you doing whatever for hours on end, that random things he sees when he's out remind him of you and that you're the last thing he thinks about when he falls asleep.

because it comes out wrong, when he does. but even still your words make him so unbearably giddy. it's foreign receiving compliments, and if he does their almost always quirk related. but these are different and they're from you, so it feels even better and though embarrassment creeps up onto his body his heart buzzes and beats proudly. he feels like he can't sit still so he does the next best thing.

"shush." he mumbles, pinching your cheeks to make you pout. you splutter out a giggle when he leans down to place a sloppy wet kiss onto your duck lips. "you keep sayin' weird shit.." he dodges your grin when he lets go of your cheek.

"but they are long ! and your eyes are pretty ! that's not weird, it's the truth." you maintain, nodding afterwards like your word is law. fuck, he loves you.

"be quiet." he pinches your lips shut and you start flailing around with muffled giggles and squeals. katsuki follows, laughing through his nose and meanly moving your lips around in his grip.

"fuck, you drive me crazy.." your eyes snap open at his soft eyes and words. his eyes shine mischievously but his cheeks are bright as he smirks. you pout at him and it makes him want to squeeze you until you pop. ( he remembers you called it cute aggression or something)

"you talk too damn much." he pinches your cheek "needa be punished for drivin' me nuts all the damn time."

"jush shay yur not goo wif complimeshs." katsuki snorts at your attempts to talk with your cheek in his grip, and he can't help the half smirk on his face when you laugh. he releases your cheek in favor of leaning down to press his lips against yours.

"you're the pretty one, dummy."

"but we can both be pretty !"

"whatever, you're prettier then."

katsuki still feels his heart thump loudly in his chest, and he's sure he'll keep feeling like this for a long while. your words will keep sticking to his heart like they always do. and maybe he is 'pretty', he'll go along with that for you, but you're definitely prettier.

#thanks for the ask anon! #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou katsuki #i wrote this at lightning speed cus this was such a cute idea #i couldnt wait #kinda poopy ending msorry :(( #bakugo drabble #bakugou drabble #katsuki bakugo fluff #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki x y/n #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugo x female reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n

[hughes86-43]

Luke Hughes request-

Y/n gets spotted with Luke leaving the last game of the regular season and they get stopped by fans to take photos together

anon you’ve read my mind; i thought about writing something like this all week; thanks for requesting! :)

-

Sadly, tonight was the last game of the regular season for the Devils, and they wouldn’t be going to the playoffs. After the game tonight, you waited for your boyfriend to get done getting dressed and out of the locker room. You and Luke had only been dating for a couple of months now, after deciding that both of you like each other a lot after being friends for years.

You both walked hand in hand to the garage to where his car was. He opened the passenger door for you, gave your thigh squeeze, and round the car to get to his side.

“I think Nico said there was some fans outside, I’m going to stop and sign some things, is that okay?” Luke asks, while buckling his seatbelt.

You give him a smile and a nod, “Of course, I don’t mind.”

He leans over to kiss your cheek, “Okay, I knew you wouldn’t, but I know we’re both ready to go home.”

Once out of the parking garage, he pulls infront of the fans standing outside the arena. Luke rolls down his window and starts engaging with the fans. You take this time to admire that despite how tired he was, he was still willing to sign and talk to them. A few fans noticed you, offering a smile your way or a wave. Most people adored yours and Lukes relationship.

While you respond back to your mom on your phone, you hear someone tell Luke to tell you something. “You better have told Y/N that she is stunning tonight!” Luke blushes as he looks at you, smiles and turns back to the girl. “Of course, I did! Although, she’s always stunning but the jersey she’s wearing adds to it,” Luke replies, still blushing. Tonight, you opted to wear his jersey with black leather pants and converse. You had gotten a ton of compliments on it, especially from Luke who had insisted on a bunch of pictures of it. You were also going to post an end of season photo of you and Luke, that you managed to take with him before the game, on social media later.

As he gets to end of the line of people, someone asks for a photo with Luke, but surprisingly they want you in it too. “Can Y/N get in the photo as well?” The fan asks Luke. He turns to ask you and of course you don’t mind. Luke helps you lean into the photo, a hand on your back to help you. “Perfect, thank you guys so much and enjoy your summer!” The fans says as you wave goodbye to them.

Once everybody has gotten their things signed, Luke pulls out onto on the main highway. Looking over at him, you say, “Can you believe someone wanted me in the photo as well?! My first photo with a fan! I can’t believe it!” As soon as the fan asked if you could be in the photo as well, you had to hide your giddiness of being asked. Again, most fans are nice about your guy’s relationship, and some people can be not so nice about it.

Luke beams at your excitement. “I know! That was so nice,” he says, smiling. “Thank you for not minding that I stop and talk to them.”

You wave him off, “Oh, stop, you know it’s not a big deal!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, but still. Can’t believe the season is over, it’s so crazy,” Luke says, eyes focused on the road.

You reach over and grab his hand, rubbing small circles on it. “I know, but you guys did good and now you can relax for a bit.” Luke nods, taking in the comforting words from you.

Later that night, you lay in bed going through social media. The picture of you, Luke, and the fan was swirling all over Twitter. You couldn’t help but to laugh at some of the comments people were saying. From the bathroom, Luke peaks his head out, “What’s so funny?”

You motion him over so he can look, “I was on Twitter and some of these comments people are making about me being in the photo are so funny!”

Luke knows there can be come harsh comments about you from fans, so he braces himself for them, even though you’re laughing. When he looks at your phone, he reads

“Y/N’s boyfriend just finished his rookie year”

“I want a picture with Luke and Y/N now”

“Y/N looks so good, Luke could take a few notes”

“Forget about Luke, I need Y/N”

Luke can’t help but to laugh as well to the comments. “I’m glad that the comments are good, I can’t handle someone else saying something bad about you,” he says, kissing your forehead.

“I know, but hey, I’m taking your spot now, everybody wants me!” You yell as he walks back to the bathroom.

He turns around, “Well, they can’t have you, you’re mine! They can find someone else!” You giggle, turning back to your phone to read more comments. Luke just shakes his head and goes back to the bathroom.

#luke hughes blurb #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes imagines #nhlhockey fic #nhl imagines

[multifandomgirl08]

Be Something You'll Love and Understand [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad!Max Verstappen x Daniel Ricciardo (Platonic)

Summary: He knew that he should have called his mom yesterday but he was still wrapping his head around the idea of being a father.

Warning(s): N/A

A/N: This is set the day after the Prologue.

Title taken from Simple Man originally by Lynyrd Skynyrd covered by Shinedown.

Words: 1.6k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

Max had never felt more sleep-deprived in his life. Even staying up for a 24-hour endurance race had never made him this tired.

Daniel had been at his apartment last night helping him with Nico. He helped Max order formula, clothing, and diapers. Most of it would be delivered today. Both he and Daniel had to look up instructions on how to make the formula out of powder and warm water, and then how to put the bottles together so that Nico could eat.

Right now he was running on less than 8 hours of sleep, and Daniel was sitting on his couch with Nico who was finally asleep after a diaper change and a bottle that he didn’t end up screwing the portion size up.

He pulled his phone out of the front pocket of his pants and dialed his mom. He knew that he should have called her yesterday but he was still wrapping his head around this whole thing.

He let the phone ring in his ear for a few seconds before he heard the dial tone come to an end. “Mum?” He asked.

“Max?” She questioned back. The sound of her voice made some of the tightness in his shoulders go away.

“I… I need your help.”

“What’s going on Max?” He could hear the unmistakable sound of concern in her voice. It was something that he was still growing used to at times after not having remembered much of the time that he got to spend with her when he was a child.

“You remember Amelia?” Max’s eyes fell over the open letter that laid face up on his coffee table. Her scribbled words ran through his head. You’re the best thing for him. He had taken to finally reading it when Nico had managed to fall asleep around 4 am.

“Yes,” She started to say.

“She, she was pregnant when we ended things. I didn’t know, she never told me.” He started with. He was trying his best not to break down into tears. “Mum, she left me the baby.”

Sophie said nothing to him for a few moments before he heard, “Oh Max.”

“I don’t know what to do. Daniel has been helping me since I found out yesterday.”

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” She calmly said. “I’m going to pack a bag, and then I’m going to take the first flight that I can to get over there.”

Max just nodded even though his mother couldn’t see. “Has the baby eaten?” She asked.

“He ate an hour ago, Daniel finally managed to get him to sleep.” Max could hear the distant sound of typing through the phone.

“That’s good. Let him sleep for as long as possible. You and Daniel can take turns with him, and nap in between until I get there.” 

“Mum?” He half asked.

“Yeah, Maxy?”

“Thank you, I love you.” She was dropping everything to fly to Monaco to help him with this. She didn’t have to do it. She could have just stayed home and tried to help him with this from a distance.

“I love you too, I should be there in a couple of hours. My flight should get in by 4, I’ll take a cab so you don’t have to pick me up. Okay?” Max tried to find the clock on the wall and saw he would only have to wait 5 hours until his mother would be here.

“Okay.”

After getting off the phone with Sophie, Max was able to get some sleep. It wasn’t much, he had been awake when Daniel had gone up to his apartment to grab a change of clothes, Max’s eyes started to feel heavy as he was lying on the couch. At some point he woke up, forcing his eyes open to see Nico still on his chest, and the clock read 4:29 pm.

He could hear the sound of keys banging against the front door to his apartment before the door opened fully.

“He’ll be happy to see you.” He heard from Daniel. “He’s out of his element with this.”

He couldn’t hear his mother’s response, but he did see her dark hair from where he was lying on the couch.

“He was still sleeping when I went to let you in.” Max could hear the wheels from what he could only assume was his mother’s suitcase.

“Max?” Sophie asked, looking out into the living room. He tried to move up the couch without moving Nico. As he tried to sit up, Nico let out a disgruntled whimper.

He met the eyes of his mother and could see the shock in her eyes. It was one thing for him to tell her that he had a child but another to see him with a baby swaddled into his chest.

“Hi Mum,” He did his best to move Nico into the crook of his arm. He didn’t want to wake him, but he did want to sit up on the couch.

Sophie made her way over to him leaving her bag by Daniel. She moved to sit next to him before peering into the bundle of blankets to see the little boy sleeping. She said nothing as she looked at Nico.

“Can I hold him?” She asked.

Max didn’t even have to think about moving Nico into her arms. He saw her lean back into the couch and then placed Nico into her arms. He could tell from the look on his mom’s face that she was a little shocked to be holding a baby that he had a part in creating.

In the background, Max heard Daniel mention something about putting Sophie’s bag in the guest room before leaving the two of them in the living room.

“How are you managing?” She asked. Max couldn’t help but slightly shake his head.

“Not well,” If his mother wasn’t holding Nico he would have put his head into her lap. He wanted to tell her what Jos had done, but he also didn’t want more bad blood between his parents. It was only in the last few years after he turned 18 that his parents had finally managed to co-exist with each other peacefully.

“What are you not telling me?” His mother knew him too well.

“Dad…” He tried to start saying, “He knew about Nico. He tried to pay Amelia off so I wouldn’t know about him.”

Sophie said nothing, she just kept rocking Nico in her arms for a few moments.

“Was it because of her… or was it about you racing?” Max knew that she didn’t really have to ask.

“You already know the answer.” He said flatly.

“Well, I’m sure to him he was doing what he thought was right by your career.” Max knew that his mother didn’t have to defend Jos or take his side on things. Was Max horrible for wanting her to tell him that Jos was out of line for making choices for him? Max was 22, he didn’t need his father going behind his back and making choices for him that he didn’t agree with.

“But what about what’s right for him?” Max gestured to Nico.

His mother gave him a soft smile, “Well, as his father. It’s up to you to figure out what you think that’ll be as he grows up.”

Max felt like he could start spilling all of the things that he didn’t want to do as a parent, every possible insecurity that he had, and the concerns about how all of this was going to work in the long run.

Max was grateful that Nico was in Sophie’s arms while the thoughts were running through his mind.

“How’s he doing, sleeping, eating?” Sophie gestured to her arms. Max started to talk about Nico’s odd sleep schedule. Every three hours almost on the clock he needed to either eat or sleep. 

Max talked about the formula mishap, he had given Nico only three ounces, then he was still crying because he was hungry. Max made more but Nico only drank a bit not finishing the rest of the bottle.

When Nico started to get fussy, Max moved to the kitchen assuming that he wanted to eat, but instead, Sophie stuck her nose right up to Nico’s diaper and declared he needed to be changed. Max pulled out the diaper bag that Nico came with, finding the last two diapers left. Sophie had asked for a soft towel since they would be changing Nico on the couch since Max didn’t have a changing table.

Sophie oversaw as Max changed Nico’s diaper, only suggesting to not strap him into it so tight, after all, it was a diaper, not a racing seat with five-point harness. Max got it right leaving a two finger space in the front before snapping the bottom of Nico’s onesie back in place.

“Have you figured out how you are going to manage your schedule and him?” Sophie had asked after Daniel had offered to order all of them dinner.

“Not yet, I thought a nanny for when I am not home but for now, I can take care of him until I have to leave for promo in February.”

“That’s smart,” Daniel said. “Gives you a few months with ‘em before the season.”

Sophie gave Daniel a soft smile.

“I’ll stay with you until you find someone you like.” Sophie was quick to offer.

“Mum, no.” He immediately protested. Victoria just had Luka and his mom should be back in Belgium helping her, not worrying about him.

“I know what you’re thinking, but Victoria has Tom. You need me right now, just until you find a nanny and figure out a schedule for my grandson.” Sophie looked over to the couch where Nico was lying between a few pillows. He was fast asleep for now having just finished a full bottle of formula at the correct portion size.

He wanted to protest again, stating that he could figure it out. Sophie gave him a soft but stern look that he read as, I’m not leaving, deal with it.

Mini Verstappen taglist: @karmabyfernando, @barcagirly, @sachaa-ff, @iamahallucinationnn, @musingsbyshreya, @glow-ish, @nonsensical-nonsence, @fanboyluvr, @champomiel, @gothicwidowsworld, @lighttsoutlewis, @itsalwaysgay, @minkyungseokie, @mynameisangeloflife, @ursforever129, @aundercover, @bborra, @mindless-rock, @cixrosie, @barcelonaloverf1life, @taylorslovesswifties13, @konsti081, @mellowarcadefun, @smnthnclj, @brekkers-whore, @lpab, @thedecalcomania-blog, @xoscar03, @em-gvf01, @haikyuen

#mini verstappen series #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen imagine #mv1 imagine #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader #mv33 imagine #mv33 x you #mv1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic

[rninies]

✮ matching hoodies

౨ৎ veritas ratio x reader. fluff, gn!reader, ratio is so in love w you, modern!au — wc: 733 | tags: @rosequarzo @fairykazu

notes. hai im back w another ratio fic

"remind me why we are here again?" veritas asks, watching you look through the hoodie section of the store.

"i’m here to buy a hoodie, veritas. you’ve asked that question ten times now," you sighed. turning your head to face him, you see a pronounced frown on his face. "why are you frowning? do you not like accompanying me shopping?"

"no it’s just- our closet is already full of your hoodies. more than half of the closet is filled with your stuff. why do you need more?" veritas answers.

you give him a sheepish smile in return. "well, i happen to be someone who loves hoodies so deal with it. besides, i know you love borrowing my hoodie from time to time."

veritas's face actually turns a light shade of red hearing you expose his actions. "you- you didn’t have to say that out loud, idiot."

you gasped dramatically. "veritas ratio, language!" and you dodged an incoming balled-up scrap of paper. "what was that for?!"

“for being annoying.”

"oh you wound me," you placed a hand over your chest for dramatic effect and couldn’t help the laugh from escaping your lips as you see veritas's disgusted look. "okay, how about you sit over there while i find the perfect hoodie for me to wear, yeah?" you pointed at the small seating area and veritas agrees silently, taking the other shopping bags with him. 

as soon as veritas sits down and busies himself with his phone, you scavenged through the pile of hoodies, racks of sweaters, basically anything that fits the category ‘long-sleeved and keeps us warm’. hoodie hunting wasn’t your favorite pastime as it not only takes up so much of your time but you also have to let go of the other cute hoodies you find along the way.

when you reached the last pile of hoodies, you find a white hoodie with a small brown dinosaur holding out a finger heart while winking and facing the right. looking below that was an identical one, it being a black hoodie with a green dinosaur doing the same pose except it’s facing the left. putting the two hoodies next to each other, it makes it seem like the dinosaurs are shooting hearts at each other.

your eyes light up as soon as you find these two pairs of hoodies, grabbing both and ran to the cashier (veritas fortunately did not see you). as soon as you paid, you basically skipped your way back to veritas, which caught his attention. "why- when did you pay for the hoodie? i could’ve paid for you."

"just now!" you replied and took out the black hoodie from the bag, showing it to him. "look, isn’t it cute? especially the dinosaur!"

veritas nods, not really paying attention to the hoodie. "it’s cute, yeah- what are you do-" he gets cut off when you basically force him to wear the hoodie.

taking out the white hoodie, you wore it, and smiled at him. "look, now we match!"

veritas looks at the mirror in front of him and true to your words, you both were indeed matching. "what the hell?"

"don’t you dare take it off," you warned, seeing veritas about to reach for the hem of the hoodie. "i paid for these hoodies and you’re keeping it. it’s cute, okay? look at the dinosaurs! just like you and me."

"very funny, y/n," veritas grumbles, holding you by the waist as he leads you out of the store. "this is embarrassing!" though the way his hands tightened around your waist says a different thing.

"be glad i didn’t end up picking one where it was super obvious that we got matching hoodies." you say, poking his cheeks. "besides, we don’t have any matching items! the closest thing we have to something classified as matching is that keychain we bought on our first date."

"and do you not like the keychains?" veritas asks. "it’s two cats and when you connect them with each other it looks like they’re cuddling with each other.”

"okay, i did not ask for your inner cat lover to come out when we’re discussing the keychains," you pointed out. "yes i love the keychains, but i want something more, hence the hoodies."

veritas groans, looking at his hoodie and yours. "be glad that i love you."

"that’s such a cliche thing to say." you giggled.

"shut up."

#kylin.writes #veritas ratio #veritas ratio x y/n #veritas ratio x you #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio fluff #veritas ratio hsr #dr ratio #dr ratio x y/n #dr ratio x you #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio fluff #dr ratio hsr #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x y/n #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail dr ratio #honkai star rail veritas ratio #hsr #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #hsr x reader #hsr fluff #hsr veritas ratio #hsr dr ratio

[rougecreator1]

Hello! How are you? Hope you're doing good. I was wondering if I could request a Poly!Pastics x reader where the reader is a HUGE people pleaser and R does everything for everyone and it got so bad to where R stayed awake for three weeks straight to have time to make everyone happy. The girls have enough and force force their girlfriend to sleep and not stress over other people?

Sorry if it's too much or top specific.

Whats One More?||

|| Poly!plastics x fem!reader

(i myself am poly!)

|| Warnings: swearing, super long, Reader's absolutely exhausted, Regina being Regina, comfort (i dont think there's too many, if i missed something lmk)

|| Summary: Reader keeps helping out everyone to the point where it begins to effect her sleep schedule. Ms. Norbury notices and brings it to the attention of the plastics, who comfort Reader and get Reader to sleep.

Requests open!

Started: April 20th

Finished: April 21st

~~~

To say you were a people pleaser would be an understatement. You weren't sure if there was a better word to describe it, maybe... doormat? You couldn't say no to save your life. It was a genuine problem that often spiralled beyond your control. Well, you could control it. If you just said no. But that was mean. You hated the thought of anyone hating you, so you worked overtime to make sure that never happened.

Today was no different.

"Hey, Y/N! Wait up!" Shane Omen yelled your name from across the hall as you stood at your locker, making you internally groan. You didn't like Shane but you never showed it. You forced out a smile as you looked at him.

"What's up, Shane?" You asked, keeping your tone your signature calm one. As opposed to the internal screaming that was going on in your head. Why couldn't he just leave you alone? You had been having an amazing day before he showed up.

"Mind doing my homework for me? I'm just so busy this week that I have no time for it. Oh, and my buddies too. I'll pay ya." He smirked at you, clearly trying to use whatever charm he could muster. This wasn't the first time it's happened. His friend had walked up next to him, holding a large stack of papers up to his chest which you could only assume was the entirety of Shane's friend groups overdo homework.

You held back a sigh.

"Yeah. When do you need it done by?" You asked. Reluctantly. You hated the thought of doing all that extra work, but then again you hated the thought of someone hating you more than you hated the idea of doing the homework. So you'd do it. On top of your own you already had to do, plus you had promised Karen you'd help her out with hers.

"This Friday." He replied, gesturing for his friend to give you the work. Which he did. He practically shoved it into you.

The sudden weight added to your binders almost made you stumble, this Friday? It was fucking Wednesday. That gave you two nights. Shit, you'd have to pull all nighters in order to get this done, your own work, AND help Karen. Maybe Karen should come first, since she was her girlfriend. Restart.

Karen, your own work, and Shane's shit. That's the order you gathered in your head. You could help Karen out tonight, get your own work done after and get it all done in one session so you could focus the rest of the day tomorrow on Shane's stuff. Yeah, that could work.

"Yeah... I got it. You don't have to pay." You smiled at him, he gave your shoulder a playful nudge. Sure, the money for your time would be nice. But you hated the thought of taking someone's money. Even if it was Shane Omen's.

"You're amazing, Y/N!" Shane and his buddy walked off, high fiving each other and clasping their hands together with a smirk. You rolled your eyes and readjusted the papers and your binder with your knee. Sighing at the sight of the stack you now held.

Finale bell went, showing the end of the day. Which you were grateful for.

You moved the papers and binders to one side so you could hold it with a single arm comfortably. Then opened your locker with your now free hand, holding your knee up to keep the papers from slipping. Grimacing slightly at your awkward option as you pulled your bag from your locker, stumbling back as the bag came out. Though your balance was caught by Gretchen, who gave you a soft smile and held you as you gathered your footing. Slinging the bag on your shoulder then holding the papers with both arms again.

"Thanks, baby." You smiled at your girlfriend, Karen quickly came up behind her and smiled at you.

"Y/N!" She gave you a quick hug, you kissed Karen's cheek since your hands were too full to hug her back.

Gretchen looked at all the stuff in your arms and raised an eyebrow," What's all that?"

"Shane's stuff. He needed some extra help." You explain briefly, not giving too many details. Gretchen narrowed her eyes at that. You were helping Shane? Shane Omen? Why?

She was going to ask more, when Karen suddenly frowned and interrupted.

"You're still helping me tonight, right?"

"No yeah, yeah of course! Come over to mine when Regina drops us off, okay?" You assure her, feeling a little bad for making her think you wouldn't be able to help her too. Even if it was an accident. As for Regina dropping you off, she pretty much always takes you to and from school along with Karen & Gretchen.

Karen smiles gratefully at you and pulls you in for a kiss, you happily kiss her back and Gretchen takes a photo of the two of you.

"That's so cute! It's going on our shared insta." Gretchen says with a little squeal, opening insta on her phone and going to the shared account you all have access to. She posts the photo with the caption: look at these cuties 🥺💕

You break the kiss and smile at Gretchen, your group text then goes off with a text from Regina.

|| Regina: where the hell are all of you?? I'll leave you here if you dont hurry your asses.

There's a pause before another text comes in.

|| Regina: YOU BETTER NOT BE MAKING OUT WITHOUT ME

You laughed when you read that one, Gretchen giggled too and you glanced at Karen with an innocent grin.

"She must've seen the photo." You say with a laugh, the girls nod their heads in agreement and the three of you head to Regina's jeep. You didn't want to keep her waiting longer than you already have.

At the jeep, Karen and Gretchen got in the back while you took your usual seat in the front next to Regina. Who was already looking at you expectantly.

"Just a sec," You tell her, attempting to stuff your binders and additional papers into your bag so they didn't blow away when Regina drove. Considering her jeep had no doors, something you found awfully inconvenient.

Regina groans and rolls her eyes," Ugh. Why do you have so much extra papers anyway?"

"Helping Shane." You reply, part of you had wanted to lie because you knew Regina wouldn't like the answer. But if she found out about the lie (and she always does) that would've made things way worse.

Regina looked offended," What? Seriously? Why the fuck?"

"He asked and I couldn't say no.." You admit in a mumble, making Regina narrow her eyes at you.

"You gotta work on that. Seriously, Y/N." Regina says, you finally get everything to fit in your bag before you looked at her with a frown.

"You know, Regina's right Y/N." Gretchen pipes up, leaning forward and resting her arm on Regina's back seat as she looks at you with a concerned gaze." You take on way too much from other people."

"But they'll get mad if I say no." You respond, turning your gaze to Gretchen for a moment.

"So? Fuck them, let them get mad." Regina shrugged and grabbed your chin, making you look at her before kissing you roughly. Your eyes widened at the suddenness of it but you melted into the kiss. She broke it off and wiped your bottom lip with her thumb, smirking at you," You owed me a kiss."

You blushed deeply and she laughed at your reaction, shaking her head and starting up her car.

"You're too easy. But fuck, Y/N. You gotta stop letting people walk all over you. You're not a fucking doormat." Regina's words may have been harsh, but they were the truth. You did need to stop letting people walk all over you.

~~~

But maybe not today. It was now Monday. You had managed to get everything done for Friday, much to your own sacrifice. You haven't slept a wink since Tuesday night before everything happened. And you were starting to feel it. Sure you could have slept on the weekend, but your girls dragged you around to house parties both Saturday night and Sunday night. You stayed sober to keep an eye on them and be the designated driver and you probably could have slept when you got them home, but you wanted to make sure nothing happened throughout the night. So you've been awake for almost a week straight. It was hell.

Today you had Chess Club, an extra curricular club you had chosen. You managed to get your girlfriends to agree to let you do it, Gretchen had put up a bit of an argument but when she saw how good you were at the game she let it slide.

You sat in your usual spot at the library, a chess board in front of you as played off against your best friend; Flow Scotts (short for Florence). You guys had met when you joined Chess Club, having been paired together day one. The two of you were a pretty even match and would face off against each other frequently, which built the friendship between the two of you.

You studied the board as you rubbed one of your eyes, plotting your next move while trying to stay awake. She already had you in check with her bishop, so you moved your own bishop to block hers. With the Queen defending the bishop it was a solid move, if she decided to take your piece blocking your King you could safely take hers with your Queen. sorry to the non-chess nerds who aren't going to really understand my rambles here.

Flow made a huff sound and you laughed, smiling at her when someone comes to sit next to your table. You didn't recognize him, so you assumed he must've been new to the Club as he watched your game with an interest only Chess Club members seemed to have in their eyes.

Flow blinks and looks up from the board, getting distracted from whatever strategy she had been forming in her head." Can we help you?"

"Oh! Hi! Um, Mr. Rapp told me I could come join you guys here. And like observe and maybe play winner. I'm James." He introduces himself, you and Flow glanced at each other and you shrugged.

"Alright. This is Flow, I'm-" He stops you with a smile.

"Y/N. I know, everyone knows. You're dating the plastics." James says, you sighed. You hated when people called them that. They were so much more than 'the plastics' behind closed doors.

"Right." You nodded your head.

"Also, I'm still sort of new to Chess and Mr. Rapp said that one of you could help me out with like extra chess lessons after school?" James continued on, you glanced at Flow.

"I have soccer practice after soccer today." Flow looks back at you. Flow didn't play soccer, she clearly just didn't want to tutor him.

"Yeah, okay. I'll do it. Meet here five minutes after the bell." You tell James, who gives you a grateful smile.

You had a test you had wanted to study for after school and a project you had wanted to use the school lab computers for, but now you were stuck tutoring James. You figured you could just pull another all nighter to get the work done. What's one more?

~~

Well, one more turned into many more. It's been a total of three weeks since you last had a decent, solid sleep and it was really affecting your grades. People just kept asking things of you and you couldn't tell them no. It was bad.

Ms. Norbury was the first to notice your grades dropping, as your grades in math were pretty solid. They weren't mathletes worthy but they weren't completely low either. You averaged a 75%, which had now dropped down to 68% with your lack of sleep and focus in class.

You were currently in math, which was your fourth period. Trying desperately to pay attention and not fall asleep. Though at one point you droop so low your head hits the table, startling you into a more upright position as people stared at you in confusion. Ms. Norbury narrowed her eyes, sleeping in class wasn't like you. She was sure something was wrong.

"Okay, everybody take 5." She says, people get up and head out while she walks over to you.

"Y/N? Everything alright?"

"Just tired." You tell her in a mumble, you weren't a mumbler.

"Honey, when was the last time you slept?" She asked, crouching down in front of your desk to get a better look at you. She frowned as she saw the dark circles and the very evident exhaustion.

You simply shrugged, to you her voice felt far and distant so you had to put all your remaining energy into hearing her. You couldn't remember the last time you had a good sleep. You knew it had been a while ago, though. All your days just felt as though they had blended together.

That concerned Ms. Norbury further, she debated if she should just send you home at this rate. After all it was just fourth period and she was sure you'd have people in other classes who could get the work you missed.

"Come on, Y/N. How about we call one of your parents and have them come get you?" She said softly, knowing a good sleep at home would be what you needed.

When you heard that you shook your head, you knew your parents wouldn't come get you. Even if you had been throwing up they'd tell you to tough it out.

"They wouldn't.." You say in a mumble, Ms. Norbury frowns at that and tries to think of a plan B. She knew the various cliques and which students hung out with who, so she knew you were close with the plastics. The question was which one would be come get you? Little did she know any one of them would do it in a heartbeat.

She sighed quietly to herself and stood up," Alright, just wait here." She tells you before heading to the class phone and giving someone a call. You weren't sure who.

About five minutes pass before Gretchen comes running into the room, when she saw you she paused and looked at Ms. Norbury. They seemed to have some silent conversation, no. Their mouths were moving. You just couldn't focus enough to hear what they were saying.

You slumped back in your seat and your eyes started to close, exhaustion catching up to you when you felt hands on your shoulders and looked to see Gretchen watching you with worry all over her face.

Gretchen had known that something was wrong. She knew it from the start, but every time she tried to talk about it with you you would just say 'tired' and nothing else so she gave up pressing you on it. She knew she should have tried harder to get the information out of you.

Even Regina had tried too at one point, she noticed when you weren't fully present in a conversation she was having with you. You just kept replying with 'mhm' 'uh huh' and so she tested it by saying 'I dont know what to wear to school tomorrow, think I should go topless?' you replied with a simple 'yepper' and that basically confirmed for her that you weren't listening. So, when she asked what was wrong after getting your attention, you just replied 'tired' to her too. She didn't think to press further.

"Y/N, are you listening?" Gretchen asked, a frown on her lips after she had snapped her fingers to get your attention. You blinked and looked at her.

"Huh?" You didn't realize she had been trying to talk with you.

"I'm taking you to Regina's, Ms. George will come get us." Ms. George was your backup. If one of you needed to go home for whatever reason or just wanted to skip and relax, she always said that she would come get you girls," I texted the groupchat and told them what was going on. They're on their way over, just hang tight. Okay?"

You nodded and not too long after all three were standing before you, Ms. Norbury was back at her desk. Letting you girls have your space.

"You look exhausted." Karen points out. Leave it to Karen to point out the obvious.

Regina narrows her eyes at her and sighs before looking back at you, resting her hand to your cheek and rubbing it gently with her thumb. You lean in a little closer to her touch," Why haven't you been sleeping?"

"Busy." You reply, unable to gather enough energy to say more. The three exchanged looks.

"Busy with what?" Regina replied, she knew you had your Chess Club, tutoring Karen, and your own work on top of that but she didn't think that was enough to get you this tired.

"Helping people." You explain, talking simply again. She groaned at that. That's what caused this?

"Baby, I thought I told you to say no?" Regina takes her hand off you, you feel the warmth leave and you almost slump forward on your desk. You'd been using her hand as support. Her hands rest on her hips as Gretchen catches you and keeps you up, giving your forehead a soft kiss.

"Mean." You respond.

"Excuse me?" Regina looked offended, thinking you had called her mean. You shook your head and desperately looked at Gretchen to translate.

Gretchen tensed, racking her brain to think of what you meant," Did you mean saying 'no' was mean?"

You nodded.

"That's not mean. You can always say no, that's what Gretchen says to me all the time." Karen pipes up, Gretchen gives her a soft look and nods in agreement.

"Y/N/N, you're allowed to have boundaries." Gretchen tells you," is it really worth it if it's doing this to you?"

You were going to respond but there was a knock at the door, you glanced at it and saw Flow there.

"Hey, Y/N. I would've texted but I was walking by here anyway, you coming to Chess tonight?" She asked.

Regina scoffed and folded her arms," Absolutely not. Fuck off."

"Regina, language!" Ms. Norbury narrowed her eyes at the blonde who rolled her own.

Flow tensed at Regina's harshness and looked at you. Gretchen scrambles a response.

"What Regina meant is that Y/N is just super tired, she's going home to rest tonight. Right, baby?" Gretchen looked at you. Expecting you to agree.

Regina looked at you with a look that was basically commanding you to tell Flow 'no'. You hated it.

"Resting tonight..." You grumbled, continuing to speak in simple terms.

Flow's gaze shifted to concern but she nodded her head," okay.. let me know how you're doing later, alright?" She left after that.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" Regina kept her gaze on you.

"Awful." You shook your head, disagreeing with her which makes her scoff.

Soon enough, Ms. George comes and picks all three of you up. Bringing you to their place. You were brought to Regina's bed by your girlfriends, who all snuggled up with you in bed. Gretchen on your right, Karen on the left and Regina on top. You easily fell asleep once Regina started giving your neck soft, soothing kisses. Your girls stayed close to you.

You slept for a solid 24 hours and some.

#x reader #fem reader #canon x reader #fanfic #wlw fiction #mean girls #mean girls x reader #regina george #regina george x fem!reader #gretchen x reader #regine george x reader #regina x gretchen #gretchen wieners #karen shetty #karen x reader #regina x karen #karen x gretchen #poly!plastics x reader #poly!plastics

[liyahin4k]

𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜

(𝐁𝐖𝐖𝐖)

(𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐘-Paige has a small panic attack before a game.

You were sitting with the rest of the crowd coach next to you you too making small talk before the game started.

“Yo Paige is freaking out she won’t listen to us” kk told you grabbing you and leading you to the locker rooms “what did I she say” you asked “that’s the thing she won’t say anything” kk told you. Once there everyone left to give you two your privacy.

You slowly made your way towards her not wanting to scare her. She had her headphones in her head in her hands one thing about her is if it wasn’t you then music was her comfort.

You carefully took off her headphones placing them next to her she still wouldn’t look up so you softly grabbed her chin lifting it for her too look at you.

“What wrong” she didn’t answer she just wrapped her arms around you not wanting to let go. “Talk to me” you softly whispered rubbing her back..”I can’t do it” Paige finally answered pulling away to look at you “what do mean” you asked confused.

“I feel like I have the whole team on my shoulders I-i mean what if w-we lose” she said beginning to panic again. “Hey,hey you’re not going to lose I promise” you said calming her down to night was a big night for her and the team if they won they could make it to the finals and possibly win that too. “now you have a game to play” you softly smiled wiping her tears away.

“You ready” you ask smiling up at her as she stood ready to play “yeah” she smiled taking your hand in her giving it a kiss before you both walked out.

She let go running onto the court with the rest of the team and you took your seat back next to coach. “She good” he asked you.

“She will be after tonight win” you smiled. The game started the other team making the first shot you looked at Paige she shook her head you knew what was running through her head you always did.

That’s one thing Paige loved about you with out asking you always knew what was wrong and was always there to help.

It was now the end of the game just a few seconds on the clock it was a pretty close to the other team winning which made you nervous but you had to have faith.

Fingers crossed you watch the ball get past to kk this was it if she was to make it the team could move forward to the next game the stadium went dead silent and time froze everyone’s eyes were on the ball as it made its way into the net.

The crowd went crazy. The team ran towards kk celebrating around her Paige Brock away from the team and ran to you.

“Told you” you smiled. She wrapped her arms around you smiling.

#paige bueckers #kk arnold #paige bueckers x reader #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #azzi fudd #lesbians #fyp #tumblr fyp #viral

[hazz-a-bear]

YOUR HAND IN MINE, wen junhui

♡⸝⸝ As soon as Junhui shot up and excused himself from the dinner table, your eyebrows furrowed in concern. If only the love of your life trusted you enough to take care of him at his worst.

.ᐟ sick junhui ( i'm sorry for inflicting pain on this boy, i really am ) fever, mention of throwing up, nervous and stressed reader, junhui needs to learn how to ask for help, the daunting ordeal of not asking to be taken care of because of the fear that comes with being a burden to your loved ones, absolute sweethearts minghao and jihoon

a/n - sick junnie is such a cat, i can cry. somebody give this boy a kiss and tell him it's okay. leave some feedback please please <3

When Jihoon suddenly puts a hand on your shoulder, you jump in your seat. Startled by his out-of-order action, you let your eyes find his, a question pausing in the air. You watch as Jihoon sighs and gives you a look - quite unreadable as always. When you simply cocks your head to the side, Jihoon is sighing again like a damsel in distress before he finally nudges his gaze towards your lap, specifically, your knee and oh –

You let your eyes zero on the way your knee bounces in sync with the song playing through the venue - a good hundred-something bpm to it and almost making it look like it's having a seizure of its' own. Wait, holy shit, were you shaking the fucking table?

"Calm down, you weren't" It's Minghao who comforts you from the other side of you, having moved to the empty seat next to you while you've been distracted. "You're fidgety"

Minghao is almost peering into you, doe eyes slightly wide as they run along your face with concern clearly written across his eyes. From your other side, Jihoon is pretending to not listen. He's long retracted his hand and sat back in his seat, but you knew he still had one year stuck in the conversation out of concern.

"Yn," Minghao almost whispers as if not to bother you. "Hey, calm down. It's okay. I'm sure he's alright"

You try your best to nod, not trusting yourself to give him a verbal answer knowing you would just end up with a whole lot of nonsense pouring out of your mouth as a result of your nerves. But still, even as you silently reassure him, you can't seem to stop the shaking in your leg, the shudder in your breath and that god-awful feeling in your gut.

"I'll go check on Jun" Jihoon says from your right, giving away how he'd been listening and making you look up at him.

He's already getting up from his place, brushing his hands against his pants as he squeezes between your chairs and slips away from the seat. From the corner of your eye, you see Minghao trying to get up as well, only to be forced back into his chair by Jihoon with a hand on his shoulder.

"Stay with her. I'll go" You hear Jihoon say to the younger, stern and a rare display of worry dripping from the words rolling out of his tongue.

"Yn? Yn, look at me" There's a light feeling of pressure on your knee, and you turn your face to meet Minghao's eyes, ever so comforting. "Hey, it's okay, honey. Jihoon hyung will check on him, okay? And then they'll be back, and then he'll be right here next to you. No need to get worked up, yeah? Junnie wouldn't want you to get worked up at all"

Minghao is peering into your face again, nodding and confirming if you've processed what he's saying before smiling kindly at you. "So, just breathe. He's okay"

The way Minghao is so careful with his words, trying to calm you down with the gentlest touch and the softest words reminds you of just how great of a person he is.

Minghao has always been so fond of you, ever since you entered Jun's life as a constant figure. At first, he might have been a little hard to approach. Considering just how protective he was of his Jun gēgē, you understood when Minghao shied away from warming up to you when you'd been introduced to each other. Junhui had been the most eager when the two of you met, almost bouncing off his feet at the mere thought of his two favourite people (his words, of course) becoming close. It had taken some time for you two to get comfortable with each other as Jun's best friend and Jun's partner, yet by now, you're convinced that Minghao considered you a sister - maybe a mother figure even. Minghao is now one of your best friends as well - the two of you often hang out by yourselves, sharing similar likings in music and flavours of tea. So it was inevitable for him to get worried when you started spacing out ten minutes into Junhui's disappearance - eyes hazy and knee starting to bound under the table.

"He kept saying he didn't feel good. He actually didn't seem well at all today" You stagger, slumping your head. "I thought it was nothing, so I didn't bother asking. Gosh, Hao, I should've checked on him a little more"

"Hey, come on" Minghao shifts in his seat, bringing a hand to rest on top of yours in an attempt to console you. "He'll be okay, I'm sure. You have nothing to be scared of. Jihoon is with him, yeah? He'll be feeling better, and he'll be back to his usual self in no time, yn"

"But I should've asked. Hao, you know perfectly well how he doesn't say out loud when he's sick. He thinks he's being a burden, so he doesn't tell me even though he needs me. And god, it worries me so much" You try your best to stay calm, seeing a few others like Joshua and Jeonghan looking your way with lifted eyebrows and confused glances.

You seriously did not want to cause a scene in the middle of the function in front of everyone - but also, you had an extent to keep your composure while your boyfriend was probably passing in the restroom.

The Seventeen boys ( or mostly Seuncheol and his wallet ) had planned a dinner party, a quiet get-together with all their close friends following the end of their tour.

Junhui had been so excited when he passed you the invite, all giddy and smiles, bouncing on his feet as he suggested the two of you should wear matching outfits and be lovey-dovey all evening to purposefully piss Jeonghan off for his 'lack of bitches/respectfully' ( Again, his words ) His excitement passed on to you, more because of Junhui's boxy smile and lit up eyes as he romped around than the whole dinner ordeal. Sure, you were just as eager to celebrate the guys finally having a moment to wind down, but seeing Junhui so happy-go sunshine was better than anything in the whole world.

When the two of you woke up this morning, Junhui hadn't forgotten to cheerily mumble into your shoulder about how he picked a suit to match your outfit, and Jeonghan was going to be so sour all night about it.

You had expected him to be stuck to you all day, talking your ear off about everything and nothing all at once since today had been an off day for him. His habitual routine at home was being stubborn all day and refusing to let go of your arm to follow you around the house like a boy cat.

You hadn't first noticed any signs of sickness at all as Junhui spent the morning like usual, clinging to your back and playing on his phone for the most part. And when he asked if he could go and lay down for a while, you'd simply thought he wanted to rest out of the weariness that came with the newly ended tour.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead before sending him off to bed to get a good rest, knowing he would have to stay active for the latter part of the night. Junhui almost slept the entire afternoon off, curled up on your bed with a newfound frown pinching his eyebrows together even in his state of unconsciousness. When you finally woke him up, Junhui had spent a fair share of minutes groaning and whining before getting out of bed, saying something about a headache, and quickly waving a hand to shoo you off when you instantly got worried.

Even as you kept asking him once the two of you left the house, he had simply smiled and pressed a soothing kiss to your temple over the console, telling you not to worry your pretty little head ( His words for the third time )

It was Seungkwan who pointed out how pale Junhui looked, joking about how he should go out into the sun a little bit more or he'd end up like Jihoon. Mingyu and Seokmin joined, saying something about how it would be another Macau situation if he didn't take care of himself enough - which made you throw a hurried gaze of worry towards Junhui, who avoided your eyes as his life depended on it.

Even Seungcheol, who mostly kept to himself turned towards you at some point during the night, quietly asking if Junhui had been eating well after returning home from the tour.

And since then, you hadn't been able to stop the waves of worry from washing over you.

Junhui had been doing a great job of trying to pretend like he was okay for the most part. The painful pinch that took over his features while he made conversation with one of the guests was gone as soon as it came. Junhui was back to his usual smile with rattled eyes darting around to see if he'd been caught. Later, when you saw him wavering on his feet, hand immediately flying to his temple, you had been by his side in an instant, asking if he was surely okay. Your boyfriend flashed his million-dollar smile at you once again, turning away to introduce you to one of his friends and successfully steering the attention away from the matter at hand.

It was when Junhui excused himself from the table to go to the restroom you started getting anxious. It was clear to anyone with a working pair of eyes that Junhui was not feeling well. Even if nobody voiced anything outright - the concerned looks the boys threw at you said enough.

And now, seeing Jihoon return with his face twisted into a scowl, you were on your feet immediately, anxiety doubling in amount and Minghao following right beside you.

"What's wrong?" Your voice came out breathless and frantic, hands reaching to hold Jihoon by the arms. "Is he okay?"

"He caught something serious by the looks of it" Jihoon sighs with an unsettling look in his eyes. "He threw up. Dinner and maybe lunch too, all of it. I tried to get him out, but he's asking for you. He doesn't look good"

From the corner of your eyes, you can see how the rest of the boys are trying to listen to your conversation, wanting to know how Jun's doing after abruptly getting up and leaving the table.

Not sparing a glance at anyone, you're pushing past Jihoon in the direction of the restrooms in an instant. If it was any other time, you would have lingered outside waiting for Junhui to come back to you instead of barging inside the men's room. But this wasn't any other time - Junhui wasn't well and he clearly needed you with him - even explicitly telling Jihoon outright.

"Junnie" You're whispering when you finally push the door to the overly luxurious restroom, gaze falling on your boyfriend sitting against the heavy door of one of the stalls.

Jihoon and Minghao, who had followed after you hot on their heels, were kind enough to wait outside without tracking your steps - possibly knowing Junhui would want some time alone with you. You knew the two would be outside with ears turned your way anyway, ready to be of help if you needed.

"My baby, what's wrong?" Without even minding the condition of the outfit you're wearing, you kneel right in front of him on the shining marble of the floor.

Junhui cracks his eyes open as you bring up a hand to his flushed face. "Yn" He croaks, the scratch in his voice making you wince as you shuffle closer, stroking the warm skin of his cheeks. "It hurts. My head, my throat, I- I don't- I don't know what happened"

"Oh sweetheart, you should've told me. I was so worried" Junhui leans his face into your hand as you trace your fingers against his skin, reminding you of his kitty antics. One of his own hands comes up to shakily wrap around your wrist, keeping you close to him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you" He whispers, eyes still drooping out of exhaustion. "Jihoonie said you were upset. I'm sorry"

"I wasn't upset at you, Jun. I was just worried" With a smile, you reassure him, not wanting to show your uneasiness with him in such a vulnerable condition. "Tell me how you feel, baby. Did you throw up?"

Junhui nods, eyes drooping and lips forming into an adorable pout.

"My poor baby" You can't help but pull your lips into a pout as well, cooing and bringing your other hand to cup his face between your cold palms.

As much as you hated the idea of Junhui getting sick on your watch, you secretly loved the clinginess that came with it like a plague. A sick Junhui meant an extra sulky Junhui, all cute pouts and teary eyes looking up at you until he'd successfully lured (lowkey coerced) you into giving him all your attention (doting on him 24/7 and doing things you wouldn't have agreed to do for a healthy Junhui)

After the initial dilemma of processing the fact that he's been bedridden, Junhui usually had the habit of pulling a drama queen card out of his pocket whenever he got sick. He would flat-out refuse to eat, take his medicine or sometimes even go see a doctor at all. Throwing small fits whenever you tried to argue with him about it, he would always guilt trip you into cuddling with him at the end of the day, unable to keep his limbs to himself.

But still, you adored the devious being he turned to whenever he was sick, mumbling in his sleep and nibbling on his food like a little cat as you orbit around him, pampering him like no tomorrow.

"Do you wanna go home, Jun? You feel really warm. Jihoon said you have a fever" You mumbled with a frown, hands feeling around for the warmth that radiated off his skin.

"Mmh. Jihoon's lying, I'm perfectly fine" Junhui opens his eyes and looks at you with a cheeky smile pulling on his lips. Yet, the small wince in his eyes is too noticeable to slip past your attention.

You pat his cheeks with a smile to match his. "Oh really, is that so? Well, I'm still taking you home and grounding you for the next two weeks so, we can't do anything about that"

Junhui exaggerates a whine at that, head rolling back against the door, dramatizing his dislike towards the idea of being the victim of your worries for the next couple of days. But you both know how much he loves to be the centre of your attention - being cared for and so so loved on like he deserved to be.

Junhui then silently lets you fuss over him, wiping his face with damp towels trying to soothe the flaring of warmth that's spreading through him. 

Typically, Junhui would have been smiling his boxy smile, trying to lighten the mood by cracking his list of bad jokes as you fussed over him. So when he just sits silently with his head thrown back and eyes closed, you assume his condition might be a little more severe than usual. You can see the way he is still flushed, a sheen of sweat left behind as a result of the fever spreading through him. His hands are clammy where he keeps them in his lap, a clear sign of just how flimsy he's feeling now.

"My head hurts" He mumbles once you settle down in front of him again, immediately making you run a hand through his hair softly. You try to massage his head, fingers pressing to his temples knowing it usually helps with his migraines.

"We'll go home, okay?" You say. "You need to rest, Jun. You're still exhausted- you're gonna say no but your body needs lots of rest, baby. I knew something was wrong when you went to bed earlier, I just didn't think you'd get sick so soon"

Though you try your best to not let your voice waver, you know Junhui's picked up on the way your demeanour shrinks from the way your voice quietens down. Junhui, ever so observant and managing to see through all the cracks, opens his eyes to look over at you with a pinched frown. 

He blindly reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, bringing them up to his lips. You watch as he turns your palm towards him and presses a kiss to the middle of your palm. He lets your hands rest against his face, cradling it close before he starts to speak.

"I should've told you" He sighs, nuzzling his nose against your palm. "I- I just didn't want to bother you, you know? You've been so busy with work and I just - I just didn't want to add on to it, yn. I've been away for so long and you've been nothing but looking after me all this time. I just wanted to stop being so...so dependent. I thought I could look after myself, not be a burden for once. I'm sorry"

You feel a part of your heartbreak as you listen to Junhui's words - spoken so solemnly as he explains how he simply wanted to stop being so reliant on you and take care of himself as a person. As if he could ever be a burden in your dictionary of love and as if he doesn't know that your world quite literally revolves around him at all times.

"Don't...don't say that" You start, making him pause on his words. "Don't ever- god, Jun. Don't ever say you're being a burden - to me, out of everyone"

 Junhui's eyes are glazed over with a meek apologetic look as you try to form your words, too perplexed to even string your thoughts together. "You'll never be a burden to me, you know that? Never. If anything, I'm always fucking itching to know what's going on in this mind of yours. I always want to know when you're feeling bad or sick or just, anything. I always want to know how you're doing. I'm here to take care of you. Fever, no fever- I'm always going to look after you and coddle you, Jun"

"I love you so much, okay? I don't want you to think you're burdening me by telling me you have a fever darling. I always want to know. What if Jihoonie didn't come to check on you, hm? Would you have been able to go back out there by yourself and pretend everything's fine?" Junhui's face lowers as he lets your words wash over you.

Trying to keep your voice as comforting as possible, you lift his face to meet his eyes, a bit glazed over with a crumpled expression.

"Don't ever say sorry for wanting to be taken care of, Wen Junhui" Your words are soft, yet, sharp. "Not when you know you know I would run to the ends of the earth of you. Not when you know I know you would do the same for me if I was ever in your place"

"You deserve so much love and I won't ever sleep peacefully without knowing I've shown you how much I do"

Junhui stares at you, lips downturned and eyes suddenly glassy and shining under the harsh light of the room. You smile at him, tipping his head up a little, not wanting to let the tears fall past his waterline. He returns a watery smile with a small nod when you pass a pointed look, trying to convey just how serious your words were. He takes a shaky breath, blinking away the tears in his eyes before he looks back up at you.

"You're so good to me. Always"

"I love you" You lean forward before pressing a fleeting kiss to his temple and resting your lips against his warm skin - trying to ignore the fact that you're both still settled on the shiny floor of the bathroom.

"I love you too. Thank you"

The two of you are broken apart when a knock is heard through the door before it's pushed open and Minghao pokes his head through the gap. Jihoon shuffles in right behind Minghao, taking a moment to go a once over of their position on the floor before rolling his eyes/fondly.

"Gē, how are you?" Minghao kneels right next to you, a hand reaching up to rest against Junhui's forehead as the younger searches his face.

"I think I've caught a fever, Hao" Junhui, gazing at him with lax eyes, gives him a tight-lipped smile. "Puked my entire dinner down, my throat hurts now"

"Oh, Junnie" The younger lets his hand rest against the side of his face, thumb stroking the skin of Jun's ear comfortably. "You should've told yn, you idiot. What if it got worse, huh? You passed out or something and Jihoon hyung didn't come to check up on you? What then? Do you know how worried yn was? Stop being a dummy"

Junhui squints his eyes as Minghao scolds him, nodding his head along to the sharp words the younger throws at him with practised ease. Minghao jabs at his side for the effect yet the gentle and relieved look in his eyes under the faux rage isn't hard to notice.

"Yeah," Jihoon agrees from next to them. "You gave us quite the scare"

Junhui fixes his lips into another pout when Jihoon lightly smacks his head, looking down at him from where he's standing. The look on his face makes Jihoon sigh before he reaches to softly ruffle his hair with a carefully masked gleam of affection.

"We should get you home" Minghao's looking up at you when he says, still stroking Jun's skin, making you agree with a firm nod. Looking back at your boyfriend who opens his mouth to protest, he fixes him with one short and sharp look. "If you even try to come up with a fuck ass reason to why we should let you stay here when you look like utter shit and clearly needs to lie the fuck down, I'm gonna punch you in the eye"

"No hesitation, no remorse" Jihoon joins, fingers tightening in Junhui's hair as if to emphasize the seriousness of his threat. With an amusing helpless look in his eyes, Junhui looks over to you who's still kneeling in front of him, fiddling with his fingers on top of your lap.

"And I'll tell Seungcheol you're refusing to go to a doctor" You shrug and Junhui almost shudders. They all know how serious (and fucking terrifying) Seuncheol is when it comes to health.

Eventually - and by eventually, you mean after throwing a fit about that face that he's being taken home and only settling down once you'd promised to let him eat breakfast for dinner for the next two nights - Junhui agrees to return home with you.

You try not to worry too much when he wobbles on his feet once Minghao and Jihoon pull him up from the floor. Understanding how he's not stable on his own, Junhui clings to the two as they steer him out of the restroom and promise to take him straight to the car.

"People are going to think I drank too much and passed out or something, oh god" You smile at the way Junhui's whine carries down the hallway away from you.

When you're back at the main area, quietly grabbing your bag and excusing yourself from everyone, some of the boys are quick to pull you aside. Once you've reassured them that yes, Jun is okay and no, he doesn't have a severe case of Diarrhea, Chan, it's a fever, you say your goodbyes to them. Jeonghan, who's close to tears and fretting like a mother hen, offers to walk you to your car yet, you're saved by Seungcheol who pulls the other to his side with an understanding smile.

"Hannie, yn will update us, don't worry" He assured the boy before turning towards you. "Take care of him, okay? I'll clear his schedule and let you know. Just- make sure he's okay, yn"

"Of course, always"

When you finally approach your car, you notice how Junhui is already settled in the passenger seat, eyes closed and breathing a little easier than before. You smile at the way Jihoon is stroking through his hair, trying to act cool about it when he notices you looking.

"I'll take him home now" You announce. "Thank you guys. Really, thank you so much. I already did so much"

"Anything for Jun" Jihoon mumbles. "He's been working hard"

Minghao moves to give you a small hug, rubbing your back soothingly. "You're okay to drive? We can get a driver for you if not"

"Yeah, I'm okay" You confirm. "I didn't have anything to drink"

"I know. But you're sure?" You know Minghao is asking if you're in a clear state of mind to handle a vehicle this deep into the night, knowing you've been a bit ruffled earlier. With a sure nod, you assure him.

"Get home safe, yn. Send me a text and make sure he's well rested, please"

With the promise of nursing Jun to your best capability, you ultimately get in the car before pulling away from the parking lot. Finally, you let out a breath, feeling the heaviness in your heart substituting while the task of bringing Junhui home and making sure he's taken care of properly for the night is pushed to the limelight of your priorities. You feel the exhaustion, all the nerves and the worries you spent on the boy you love, finally catching up to you as you drive through the city streets. Sparing a glance at the same boy now peacefully resting on the passenger seat next to you, skin lit up by the dim street lights outside, you feel your heart filling with a new wave of affection towards the only one who held your heart in his hands.

God, how you loved him.

When Junhui's fingers blindly reach across the console to lace with your own in the dark, you know his hand was the one thing you'd never allow yourself to let go of.

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #wen junhui #moon junhui #junhui imagines #wen junhui x reader #wen junhui fluff #wen junhui angst #wen junhui imagines #svt jun