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#and the fic is still missing half a scene

kingofthering · 28 days

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I know that a certain number of people (bless all of you) seem to enjoy the VR46 Marc AU but whenever I look at it I feel like scrapping 90% of it and it's a little annoying.

Going to make a list of scenes I have to finish/begin so I can trick my brain into believing it wants to go through with this fic.

Scenes to finish :

Spielberg

post-Aragon phone call

the Marc/Dani dinner in Misano

Valentino in Madrid (shotgunning scene)

Motegi (before the scene in their garage)

Tavullia (celebrations night + before the museum scene + after dinner together)

Scenes to write entirely :

the wedding (not theirs, either Luca's or Pecco's)

6h of Japan (Academy + Marc coming to see Vale)

Luca checking on Marc after India

night with the stranger during Marc's pre-Sepang solo holidays

Sepang (track walk with Vale)

Valencia

#vr46 marc au #this was depressing actually #this fic will never see the light of day #sitting at 13k forever #writing stuff #why the fuck did I plan so many things #(and I still feel awful about the pacing)#some of the “to be finished” scenes are half barely started and half just missing a paragraph

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5ummit · 4 months

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AO3 Ship Stats: Year In Bad Data

You may have seen this AO3 Year In Review.

It hasn’t crossed my tumblr dash but it sure is circulating on twitter with 3.5M views, 10K likes, 17K retweets and counting. Normally this would be great! I love data and charts and comparisons!

Except this data is GARBAGE and belongs in the TRASH.

I first noticed something fishy when I realized that Steve/Bucky – the 5th largest ship on AO3 by total fic count – wasn’t on this Top 100 list anywhere. I know Marvel’s popularity has fallen in recent years, but not that much. Especially considering some of the other ships that made it on the list. You mean to tell me a femslash HP ship (Mary MacDonald/Lily Potter) in which one half of the pairing was so minor I had to look up her name because she was only mentioned once in a single flashback scene beat fandom juggernaut Stucky? I call bullshit.

Now obviously jumping to conclusions based on gut instinct alone is horrible practice... but it is a good place to start. So let’s look at the actual numbers and discover why this entire dataset sits on a throne of lies.

Here are the results of filtering the Steve/Bucky tag for all works created between Jan 1, 2023 and Dec 31, 2023:

Not only would that place Steve/Bucky at #23 on this list, if the other counts are correct (hint: they're not), it’s also well above the 1520-new-work cutoff of the #100 spot. So how the fuck is it not on the list? Let’s check out the author’s FAQ to see if there’s some important factor we’re missing.

The first thing you’ll probably notice in the FAQ is that the data is being scraped from publicly available works. That means anything privated and only accessible to logged-in users isn’t counted. This is Sin #1. Already the data is inaccurate because we’re not actually counting all of the published fics, but the bots needed to do data collection on this scale can't easily scrape privated fics so I kinda get it. We’ll roll with this for now and see if it at least makes the numbers make more sense:

Nope. Logging out only reduced the total by a couple hundred. Even if one were to choose the most restrictive possible definition of "new works" and filter out all crossovers and incomplete fics, Steve/Bucky would still have a yearly total of 2,305. Yet the list claims their total is somewhere below 1,500? What the fuck is going on here?

Let’s look at another ship for comparison. This time one that’s very recent and popular enough to make it on the list so we have an actual reference value for comparison: Nick/Charlie (Heartstopper). According to the list, this ship sits at #34 this year with a total of 2630 new works. But what’s AO3 say?

Off by a hundred or so but the values are much closer at least!

If we dig further into the FAQ though we discover Sin #2 (and the most egregious): the counting method. The yearly fic counts are NOT determined by filtering for a certain time period, they’re determined by simply taking a snapshot of the total number of fics in a ship tag at the end of the year and subtracting the previous end-of-year total. For example, if you check a ship tag on Jan 1, 2023 and it has 10,000 fics and check it again on Jan 1, 2024 and it now has 12,000 fics, the difference (2,000) would be the number of "new works" on this chart.

At first glance this subtraction method might seem like a perfectly valid way to count fics, and it’s certainly the easiest way, but it can and did have major consequences to the point of making the entire dataset functionally meaningless. Why? If any older works are deleted or privated, every single one of those will be subtracted from the current year fic count. And to make the problem even worse, beginning at the end of last year there was a big scare about AI scraping fics from AO3, which caused hundreds, if not thousands, of users to lock down their fics or delete them.

The magnitude of this fuck up may not be immediately obvious so let’s look at an example to see how this works in practice.

Say we have two ships. Ship A is more than a decade old with a large fanbase. Ship B is only a couple years old but gaining traction. On Jan 1, 2023, Ship A had a catalog of 50,000 fics and ship B had 5,000. Both ships have 3,000 new works published in 2023. However, 4% of the older works in each fandom were either privated or deleted during that same time (this percentage is was just chosen to make the math easy but it’s close to reality).

Ship A: 50,000 x 4% = 2,000 removed works Ship B: 5,000 x 4% = 200 removed works

Ship A: 3,000 - 2,000 = 1,000 "new" works Ship B: 3,000 - 200 = 2,800 "new" works

This gives Ship A a net gain of 1,000 and Ship B a net gain of 2,800 despite both fandoms producing the exact same number of new works that year. And neither one of these reported counts are the actual new works count (3,000). THIS explains the drastic difference in ranking between a ship like Steve/Bucky and Nick/Charlie.

How is this a useful measure of anything? You can't draw any conclusions about the current size and popularity of a fandom based on this data.

With this system, not only is the reported "new works" count incorrect, the older, larger fandom will always be punished and it’s count disproportionately reduced simply for the sin of being an older, larger fandom. This example doesn’t even take into account that people are going to be way more likely to delete an old fic they're no longer proud of in a fandom they no longer care about than a fic that was just written, so the deletion percentage for the older fandom should theoretically be even larger in comparison.

And if that wasn't bad enough, the author of this "study" KNEW the data was tainted and chose to present it as meaningful anyway. You will only find this if you click through to the FAQ and read about the author’s methodology, something 99.99% of people will NOT do (and even those who do may not understand the true significance of this problem):

The author may try to argue their post states that the tags "which had the greatest gain in total public fanworks” are shown on the chart, which makes it not a lie, but a error on the viewer’s part in not interpreting their data correctly. This is bullshit. Their chart CLEARLY titles the fic count column “New Works” which it explicitly is NOT, by their own admission! It should be titled “Net Gain in Works” or something similar.

Even if it were correctly titled though, the general public would not understand the difference, would interpret the numbers as new works anyway (because net gain is functionally meaningless as we've just discovered), and would base conclusions on their incorrect assumptions. There’s no getting around that… other than doing the counts correctly in the first place. This would be a much larger task but I strongly believe you shouldn’t take on a project like this if you can’t do it right.

To sum up, just because someone put a lot of work into gathering data and making a nice color-coded chart, doesn’t mean the data is GOOD or VALUABLE.

#ao3 #ao3 stats #psa #my words #fandom #I doubt anyone is even going to read this but I needed to get it out of my system and at least try to stop this from spreading #if you know me #you know I get Big Mad about misinformation #don't take anything at face value #do your own research

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ressonancee · 3 months

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I THINK WE MARRIED IN VEGAS

✷ You and Jeonghan have always been friends, and friends go on a trip together, right? And somehow friends always end up marrying in Las Vegas right? And somehow friends become roommates as well right? That all seems very normal when Yoon Jeonghan has a weird addiction to doing the dumbest things ever just for shock value.

✷ genre: comedy (?), angst, smut (minors don't interact)

✷ word count: 28.244

✷ featuring: Yoon Ttoram, Choi Seungcheol, Lee Seokmin, Kim Mingyu as the unnamed satan-spit roommate one night stand, and Xu Minghao as the gothic impasto painter guy.

✷ thea’s note: hey y’all this is my longest fic yet so I’m weirdly proud. I had fun writing this and trying to figure out how to build this Jeonghan and yes I did rewatched the birth of Ttoram while writing this. By the way - love you guys but the whole credit/debt/buying a house is just for plot I do not know how any of this works in America (and it is mainly set in America because I needed Vegas lol) <3 So bear with it. Also thanks to @wongyuuu for keeping me company in this nanowimo challenge, and thaks to @toruro Mika you are the best <3 thank you for reading this

✷ Smut warnings under the read more ✷

✷ smut count: lost count of how many times Jeonghan thought he was going to cum on his pant, 1 dick sucked, teenagers level of horniness, non penetrative sex still sex, a lot of kissing, a 3 second of cumplay still a cumplay i guess.

"Should we do it?" you hear Jeonghan ask, his face focused on something outside the car’s window. The lights of all the neon signs dance on his face and features—like a scene from a movie. He looks tired and overworked even though you are somewhat on vacation.

"Do what?" you ask, trying to understand what he meant. Maybe he was talking about a hotel spa and you missed the beginning of the sentence because you were too lost in your own thoughts? Yeah, a message would be a lifesaver right now.

"That," he says, pointing at one of the hundreds of little chapels in Las Vegas. This one has a deal sign in big and bold letters—an Elvis Presley priest, a bouquet, a professional photographer, and a bottle of champagne for half the price. Well, you never thought about off-season in Vegas, but maybe business was a little rough at this time of the year, but to be quite honest that did seem like a great deal—the shopaholic in you would fall for it if it didn’t involve marriage.

"Are you drunk already?" you ask. Even though you have known the man for years, you still can’t read Jeonghan properly.

Sometimes you think about how he is a book that is written in a different language, and you couldn’t have access to him without a dictionary on the side. Jeonghan does look like a classic—he is well put together, he is fancy, and he would be one of those books that have an embellished spine—the prettiest book on your bookshelf. But at the same time, he is one of those books that need commentaries on every page because somehow the author didn't care about giving enough context or didn't think his work would survive so many years. And one that the storylines end up being totally fucked up, so basically a Russian classical.

"No, I'm painfully sober," Jeonghan says while leaning his head on the window of the car. It almost makes you laugh when you hear the loud sound of him bumping his head, even the Uber driver who didn’t utter a word turns his head back. "It's just," he starts again, "I heard Seungcheol talking about it, and it seems nice to be married."

"What are you talking about?” you say in disbelief, “Seungcheol is not married yet, he is having a bachelor party in Vegas. He is drinking his weight in alcohol and spending the college tuition of his firstborn in the casino. You and him know about the same thing about marriage, which equals barely anything."

“Yeah but he did talk about all the perks—Oh thank you,” he notices that the Uber finally arrived at the hotel feat casino and all the Vegas shenanigans. Jeonghan holds the car door for you, like a true gentleman—you almost scoff. “What I was trying to say is, Seungcheol did talk to me about being married, it doesn’t feel like a bad deal at all.” Again, he holds the door for you.

“So we should just get married in Vegas because Seungcheol said it is a great deal?” you ask Jeonghan like he said the stupidest thing ever, which is partially true. It was one of the stupidest things he’d ever said to you, and you’ve known the man for years—you’ve witnessed a fair amount of his stupidity, all laced with his all-knowing smile. Every time you tried to understand what he was talking about it always left you feeling like this man was insane.

“I mean? What would you lose?” Jeonghan asked, crossing his arms after pushing the elevator buttons—one for your room, the other one so the door closes faster (he is one of those people).

“A lot?” you say almost laughing. What the fuck? It resonates in your mind, almost like the words are bumping the walls of your cranium, like the old Windows 98 screensaver logo.

“Yeah? Like what?” Jeonghan asks and the ping of the elevator makes sure both of you know that it arrived before opening the door.

“Freedom,” you say, trying to stay normal and not succumb to Jeonghan—you both hear someone saying,“Hold!” across the hall. Jeonghan just smiles and clicks the button to close the door. Maniac really, without basic education. To be fair though, it was a frat dude with another frat dude who could wait for the next elevator without dying, but still.

“Come on, you are a book editor. You love everything that has nothing to do with freedom, you love rules and everything that shackles you.” You scoff hearing Jeonghan’s words.

You want to argue, you want to kick and scream and pick a fight because is he basically calling you boring right? He is totally calling you the most boring person he’s ever met, and you are in Vegas - and still, somehow, you are the boring girl. But he is right about it—you do not leave your comfort zone, you do not do crazy very well, and you don’t even drink that much because losing control of situations makes you slightly insane. And Jeonghan is right because he is one of your closest friends, and you talked about it with him, he even knows how this is a recurrent topic in your therapy. Asshole.

“Well, still don’t give me the urge to marry you, your sales points are awful—how do you hold your job?” You ask side eyeing your friend, well, if you wanted to marry someone calling them boring is not the right way to do it.

“I do a better job when I need to sell to investors, I’m not giving my all right now since you are not paying me,” Jeonghan says, leaving the elevator and looking back at you. Well, not giving your all when you are asking someone for marriage - number two mistake.

“I’d hope so, otherwise your name would be number one in the next layoff,” you say rolling your eyes.

“Come on,” Jeonghan scoffs. “You didn’t hear Seungcheol talking about the benefits," he says, opening the door to your shared hotel door. The deal was to sleep in a weird hotel that may have bedbugs or share a room and a bed with Jeonghan in a more upscale hotel whose bathroom didn’t look like a crime scene. Not a difficult decision, to be quite honest.

“Is Seungcheol now a pro-marriage coach?” you ask, taking off your shoes and leaving your bag on the nearest chair.

“Probably, I mean, the side money would be crazy,” he says, taking off his watch and leaning against the table, again crossing his arms. “What I meant is did you ever think about the tax deduction, health insurance benefits, leave benefits? Also, Seungcheol did remind me that the bank raises the chance of getting approved credits if the spouse has a great credit history.”

“Yet he is the one marrying because he loves his girlfriend,” you remind Jeonghan, because apparently he is forgetting one the key ingredients of marriage in contemporary societies - love, affection, and a dose of “I love you but leaving with you every time you forget the toothpaste open is making me thinking about how life in hell would look like.”

“Right,” Jeonghan scoffs, making you even more curious.

“What would you need credits for?” you ask. Jeonghan is an unmarried and childless man, who works on investments, travels twice a year, and has a car. You on the other hand work in a crumbling industry - books, who reads books? - don’t travel a lot and your car is like twelve years old.

“Marry me and I tell you,” Jeonghan answered without letting the ball drop, quick on his feet like always, you could never catch this man.

“Tell me and I will think about it,” You try to pry.

“A house.” He says earnestly.

Again - you know Jeonghan, and you know your friend is a lunatic, but you also know when he is being completely honest with you. The man did want that house, which was completely weird. Jeonghan was a city guy, he was living in a rented apartment sure, but it was a great apartment, it even had a view. He worked downtown, why would he need a house?

“A house?” You try again, trying to get more details of what the heck is making your friend go crazy out of a sudden.

“Yeah, a house.” He says shrugging like it is the most common thing ever, maybe it is a well-known scheme of marrying for taxes and credits that you don’t know, maybe you are late. Maybe you are outdated putting together marriage and love in the same sentence, maybe, the world has changed. “Will you marry me?” Jeonghan asks you in his dullest voice ever like he is tired and completely bored.

“No.” You deadpan.

“Come on, at least pretend that you are thinking about it,” Jeonghan says, lying on the bed horizontally, his face is now closer to you and his legs are too big so they hang out of the bed, like a kid almost. “It has four bedrooms so you can move and say fuck you to Laurel the accountability girl.”

Well, that makes you think about it. He should have started with that. Maybe if he just proposed a new roommate scheme you would’ve said yes in the uber.

“I don't hate her that much,” you lied through your teeth, you hated that girl. You blamed the real state crisis because the rent was crazy, sharing the apartment was a good deal on paper, and half of the rent money went to your savings account so you could live in peace - Jeonghan actually advised you on how to save and where to invest if you wanted to retire quickly, but you never really thought about buying shares and selling shares and the whole ordeal.

“Fuck you,” He laughs, “every week I have to hear you complain how she lets food go bad and how it leaves your fridge stinky enough to make you almost puke, and that only happens when she doesn't food go bad on the kitchen counter or wait, do you remember when she forgets to lock the door two times last week?”

“Well, I am sorry if I have listened to true crimes podcast enough to be actually aware of the horrors of being a woman and how serial killers are out there just waiting for you to sleep with the fucking door open,” you say like you are the most reasonable person ever.

“And you are right, what I am saying is that I would lock the door so no one can enter the house, I would be a better roommate.”

“Sure we do not have to marry to be roommates we can look for suitable places in our price range,”

“Look at this,” Yoon Jeonghan says, fiddling with his phone, “It has four bedrooms, three and a half bathrooms, the kitchen is great, it has a backyard and a solarium.”

“Fuck-” You say, sitting on the bed, your thigh close enough to his arm that you feel the warmth of his skin, “that’s, that's crazy.”

“I know,” he says turning on the bed and closing his hand on his stomach like he is dead, just staring at the ceiling, “The price is not bad either, one of my clients is trying to sell so he can invest in a new startup so it is not actually in the market right now but will be in a few weeks so-”

“Did you try to get the loan?” You ask, finger still going on his phone looking at different pics of this completely perfect house. All the rooms were big, and with natural light - crazy. The Solarium looked like a thing out of this world. And you could see yourself living there, if you had enough money you could live the dream, but that house was just out of your price range. God, with that garden you could have a dog. Damn.

“I don't want to pay interest to a bank,” Jeonghan almost whines, because he knows how this whole thing works and how he would have to pay the loan and half of the loan because banks are greedy bastards.

“Can I have two bedrooms?”

“What do you need two bedrooms for?” Jeonghan asks, finally looking at you and dropping his i-am-almost-dead act.

“My room, one office,” you explain. You know the office would be the one with two larger windows facing the garden. Oh what a joy - to build a life you would never live, it was indeed one of your favorite hobbies, maybe that’s why you love books so much.

“Ok, I guess. I can make something out of the basement.” Jeonghan replies nonchalantly making you laugh.

Maybe that’s why you two were friends, you had a great time speaking nonsense to one another. You both just kept feeding into whatever fantasy you built, like reality could not touch everything. You and Jeonghan had this weird pattern of just sitting, eating and talking for hours and hours about whatever that had nothing to do with the truth. What would you do if you won the lottery? What would you do when you retire? What would you do if you woke up on a desert island? What would you do if your boss was imprisoned for embezzlement? Ok not the last one, scratch that, this one actually happened.

“I can give you 5% of the price tag, and we can share the loan if it matches my current rent price range, but we need to actually draft something with a lawyer later so we can only sell the house to ourselves, I don’t trust you enough to buy this house without a lawyer on my side.”

“Dude-” Jeonghan jerks on the bed, he sits and turns his body to face you. “Wait, do you hate Laurel that much?”

“Yoon Jeonghan, do you want a marriage to up your credit score or what? I paid my student loans in record time, the banks love me.”

“I don’t know if you are joking or not,” He tells you.

"Can you call room service?" You ask heading to the bathroom, while you tie your hair - like you are preparing yourself for a dire work task - maybe talk to a translator about a deadline, they are worse than writers, "I think we will need more alcohol."

"Wait," you hear Jeonghan's voice echo through the door, "are we actually gonna do it?"

You are joking.

And you know Jeonghan was too. With the years of knowing him, you knew that the majority of things that left Jeonghan's mouth had a shock value purpose. Induce distress first, we talk about truth later - or never. That made you 100% sure that you would never marry that man. You knew him enough - twelve years, since high school. He knew you as well - he knew all your teenage traumas, all of your romance fiasco, and he met all of your exes.

You would never, never, marry that man.

Right?

Oh fuck. Oh fuck.

When you open your eyes and the white ceiling greets you, you can hear yourself groaning almost involuntarily. Your head aches. You know you will regret everything that happened the night before, even though you don't know what actually happened, and what you need to hold yourself accountable for. But you know the taste of a life-changing hangover that has a side dish of regret and a cup of shame to go. But it couldn’t possibly be so bad right?

Ok, maybe moving your body was not the very first thing to do. You try to open your eyes again. Well, at least you were in your own hotel room. Jeonghan is by your side, his arm across your stomach and somehow his face is near your armpit. You try to sniffle yourself, but so far doesn't like you are actually stinky. Your deodorant was doing a great job so far, maybe it actually has a 24-hour action or something like that.

You try to lift yourself up, sitting in the bed, head in hand because everything spins. Oh God help you. Besides the headache you feel sticky and sweaty, and all gross. You can't believe you didn't shower, and if you didn't shower you didn't take your makeup off, and if you didn't take your makeup off you totally threw your 43-day steak of doing your skincare routine. Fuck. Maybe you could just delete the app, or pretend that yesterday never happened. Deal with the blank day that screams how bad you fucked up was not an option though, it would never happen.

“What the fuck did we drink?” You hear Jeonghan's hoarse voice. You take the hands off your eyes, the clarity feels like punching your cornea and brain, and Jeonghan's state is not very different from yours, his shirt is open and ruffled, his arms are shielding his eyes from the light entering the room, his hair is messy and he looks like he needed four days of sleep.

“Fuel? Petrol? Satan spit in a cup?” You answer dropping yourself on the bed again, every joint of your body aches. It is ridiculous how you feel trapped in a 90 years old body, and like that is not enough you feel nauseated beyond words. And every time you can feel and hear Jeonghan breathing it feels like it is piercing your skull, would be rude to ask your friend to stop breathing and just stay completely still? He would understand, right?

“Do you think room service can get us some painkillers?” He groans lifting himself up this time, “Or maybe a gun?”

“Can you call them? I think I will puke if I sit for more than half a minute,” you say, your hand going into your mouth as if it would actually help if the worst-case scenario happened.

“I think I can, the problem is that you need to get me the phone,” Jeonghan tells you groaning between words. His hand points to the object and there is no way in hell you are moving to get that, that would mean you getting up and turning and being alive altogether.

“I can't I told you I gonna puke,” you try to explain how serious your condition - also known as hangover - is.

“It is by your side of the bed" He groans again and yet he sounds just like a petulant child, maybe it is a gift.

“I can't I will puke on the carpet it only makes things worse,” you try again, “or worse I can puke on the bed, you included in the radio of the vomit you know it splashes.”

“Ok, stand still,” Jeonghan says, “don't kick me, I'm doing it for both of us”

And you do as you are told because being still right now is the only thing you can do - even moving your eyeballs seems too much right. So Jeonghan just dropped his body on top of yours, he is also sweaty, and he reeks of alcohol. Damn, he actually smells like gasoline. He picks up the phone and presses a few buttons. His body is still above yours, pressing into you.

“Be quick you are pressing my blade," you say after the surprise of having him against you fazes out.

“What the fuck do you need to pee or vomit? Ah yes, hello,” He says changing his voice in the middle of the sentence from something that says intimacy is a disease to his customer service voice without pausing, “hm do you guys have room service that includes painkillers?” He waits, nodding his head as he hears something before he remembers his on the telephone. “Oh okay, thank you, can you send it? Oh yeah great, yes if you can do that, yes, pancakes, toasts with poached eggs and avocado, coffee hmm” he thinks about it, looks at you, thinks about a second or two, and then adds, “Can you send us four cups of coffee? Thank you.”

Jeonghan finishes the call with a groan leaving his mouth, he places the phone on its holder. But when you think he will get himself off of you he only plops down, his body weight getting heavier. His bones poking your body, what the fuck he was doing with your elbow on your ribcage?

“Jeonghan what the fuck-" You complain, trying to kick your legs in a vain attempt to make your friend move.

“I got us painkillers and food, let me recharge for a bit stop complaining,” Jeonghan says in a dead tone of voice, almost like he is dealing with a kid throwing some type of tantrum - the only thing is that, in this occasion, the child is you and somehow you want to kick his shin, because you are the one right in this situation, and you could totally just plop down in a mall disgusting floor if Yoon Jeonghan was your father too.

“You are heavy!” You try again but somehow Jeonghan is stronger than you think and his body is still over yours like nothing is happening, maybe you are just dehydrated and fucking muscle-less, maybe the yoga wasn’t doing much when you almost killed your liver.

“I am not,” Jeonghan says, now he is the one being the moody child in the supermarket, maybe he will go off without parental supervision. Oh wait, this was Yoon Jeonghan he actually did wander away when he was out about with his parent and ended up three blocks away just because he saw an ice cream truck. Jeonghan was the easiest kid to be kidnapped, you ask yourself how he ended up being safe and sound, and in one piece.

“Just because you are skinny it doesn’t mean you aren’t heavy.” You try again pushing on Jeonghan bony shoulder, even that is pointy. “bones are heavy too, get off of me!”

“You kind of stink," Jeonghan says, his head still lodged in the space between your neck and shoulder.

“Well you asshole you are not better yourself, and you are stinky too and sticky like you showered in bear or something.”

“Maybe I did, I don’t know I can't actually think,” He groans finally trying to lift himself up, “We should shower,” he says sitting on the bed and looking down at you.

“You go first,” both of you say at the same time

You end up going first. Mainly because you needed to pee and you think that once you are up you may as well just use the opportunity to shower otherwise you would just drop dead on the floor and never get up again - you will be stinky and gross forever. Also, you think that if hell breaks loose and Jeonghan actually pukes you at least already used the shower. Back in college, he puked on the sink because it was the closest thing to the door, or whatever poor excuse he came up with, and that scene still haunts you, because somehow the sink was clogged. Ew, you think, finishing peeing and wiping yourself up. You wash your hands and say thank you for your past self because your necessaire is splayed on the counter, you pick up your face wash and head to the shower. Ok, let's deal with it. You need to wash your hair too. You open the register, letting the water hit your foot in an attempt to get just the perfect temperature.

You close and open the registers a few times - to fix the temperature, but you not gonna lie, to make up your mind too. But when you let the water hit your face - in an almost drowning attempt, you know you made the right decision, shower first was the only option. You let the water wash away for a few minutes until you are ready to really start your shower. First step - wash your face. Well, you needed to buy a new face wash this one was in its last few stages of life, you close your eyes and start to rub against your skin, normal, until you few something slightly different on your hand - almost like scratching the skin, you open your eyes and you finally notice, a band on your finger.

You turn your hand and it finally hits you.

It is a ring.

With a big rock.

In your ring finger.

A big damn rock on your ring finger.

“Yoon Jeonghan” you scream in horror.

On the other side of that door, Jeonghan just hears you scream. He actually picks himself up in record time and room towards the bathroom, oh shit did you just fall and hit your head? Did you break the glass of the fancy hotel shower? Are you dying? So without thinking much Jeonghan opens the bathroom door and he just finds you - completely naked and seemly okay, just staring at your own hand.

“What happened?” He asks trying to catch his own breath, maybe he does need to start working out man, he didn’t feel this horrible when he was hitting the gym after shifts, but also he didn’t feel that great either the whole gym rat thing was not his ordeal.

“What did we do?” You ask still in complete horror, not even thinking about how this is the first time Yoon Jeonghan, your friend is seeing you completely naked. 10/10 would not recommend this experience. Not even to Laurel, her satan spit roommate.

“What? Are you going crazy? I thought you fell and opened your skull or something,”

You just look at Jeonghan, dead in his eyes, like the reality is worse than falling in the bathroom, opening your skull and calling the paramedics naked. You just turn your hand to him - like it is enough to make him understand what a dire situation it is. And you swear to god you can almost see the little flakes of light on the bathroom floor, the rock is big enough to shine across the room.

“Did you call me to show me your ring? Couldn’t you wait until you put your clothes on?” Jeonghan asks leaning into the doorway.

“Jeonghan did we-” you say but you feel your own throat closing around itself, it can’t be right?

“Hm?” he asks without a blink of an eye.

“Oh we did, we totally did," you sighed, more to yourself than to Jeonghan.

“No, you are not that crazy,” he claimed. What is that even was supposed to mean? He was crazy enough for it but you the two goody shoes wasn’t?

“Jeonghan check your bank receipt,” you demanded, trying to connect the dots in a way, trying to find a physical proof, maybe you just bought a way too expensive ring for yourself, or maybe it was just impulse buying.

Before you can move Jeonghan almost runs towards the room, you try your best to keep up with him but you are a little behind because for the first time, you actually are aware of how naked you are. You pick up the fluffy bathroom robe - yeah the fancy hotel had its perks.

“Oh fuck” you can hear Jeonghan before you can see him, his phone it’s on his lap, his head is on his head - he is a man defeated.

“Did we?” You try to probe, but your voice sounds weird in your own ears - almost small, and the reality hits you, you are kinda scared. The reality of maybe having fucked up hits you like a trunk, you always been a nice girl, you never fucked up - at least not that bad, what would you mean if you married on a drunk whim?

“I think,” Jeonghan says, his hand on his greasy hair, fuck he needed a shower. “I think we fucked up real bad.”

You sit beside Jeonghan, you both staring at the wall ahead of you in disbelief. You are still gross, but now your damp hair is actually dropping on the bed and you can’t bring yourself to care. The fact that Jeonghan is motionless by your side without uttering a word is what freaks you out more. Jeonghan is not someone who is fazed so easily - his mouth is agape and his eyebrows furred, the ‘i-am-utterly-stressed’ Jeonghan feature is what freaks you out really.

“Ok Hannie,” you breathe softly. “That’s what we are going to do, I am going to shower, then you are going to shower, we gonna eat breakfast, then we are going to return this ring, then we are going to call Joshua, he is a lawyer, right? He probably will know what to do.”

“Joshua is a real estate lawyer,” Jeonghan mutters without blinking.

“Jeonghan focus!” You say getting out of bed, “divorce is a thing we don’t need to stay married.”

You take one of the longest showers in human history. You needed a good shower, but, the majority of the time under the shower you think about how the hell you got so drunk to marry Jeonghan. Some flashes of memory blink on the forefront of your mind every time you blink; a vegas chapel, not an Elvis but an Elton John in front of you, Jeonghan picking one of the most expensive ring in a fancy story. How the fuck fancy jewelry runs for twenty four hours?

Every flash comes with a sharp pain, the fucking headache.

When you get out of the bathroom the breakfast is already in the room. You take a bit of egg and toast just so you can shove coffee down your throat without having to deal with the stomach pain. You search the ring case and don’t find anywhere, maybe it is safe on Jeonghan’s thing, maybe he kept it safe, or you hope so. When you sit on the bed you stare down the ring, it is a beautiful ring and you are pretty sure it is something Jeonghan chose, it is beautiful, but at the same time, it is just too much.

You need to return it, no doubt about it.

You try to take the ring one and somehow it doesn’t even budge. You scoff, what a tricky little thing. So you try again, and again the thing doesn’t move. You can feel the drop in your blood pressure, what the heck? You lost track of the time when Jeonghan opened the bathroom door and you looked at him in shock, you look down at your red and bloated finger.

“This shit is stuck in my finger?” You say trying to take off one final time before just breaking your finger.

“Well, I think this is a good time to tell you,” he starts his voice all weird and over the place, “I kinda fucked up.”

“Jeonghan we are apparently married I already know we fucked everything up.”

“No, I-” Jeonghan begins, his hands now going through his washed hair, still wet and dripping on the floor, “I found a shred receipt and an invoice.”

“What the fuck?” You almost yell in pure knee-jerk reaction.

“I think it is yours now?” Jeonghan shrugs, like it is not a big deal even though you know that this ring is expensive, it must be, it has a giant rock and even though you know close to nothing about jewelry it looks expensive.

“What happened to us?” You question.

“You ask me? You don't remember anything?" Jeonghan says sincerely, and you know it is true. Jeonghan was kind of a prankster, he kinda did push people to its limit, but part of it was just doing fun things but also harmless shit. Like entering the beach at night, or hiding someone’s phone and pretending they did leave in the hotel so they can enjoy the trip without being bombarded by their special someone - read Seungcheol yesterday at lunch.

“Can we call Joshua?”

“I think we can do that later,” Jeonghan checks his watch, “I think it would be wiser just to show up to Seungcheol’s lunch and pretend that mini golf is fun, it would bring suspicious otherwise.”

“Jeonghan we married we didn’t commit a crime,” you say looking at him in disbelief.

“Do you want to deal with Seungcheol’s monologue about us getting married? I don’t think I want to deal with that with a killer hangover after a wedding walk of shame in fucking Las Vegas,” he drops. And God, that really sounds like a nightmare.

“Yeah,” you say looking at the big rock on your thing, “you are right, but we should probably still call Joshua,”

“I told you he is a real state lawyer didn’t I?” He says almost rudely to you, and you want to say that if you two are married both of you said yes it is not like you are the only one responsible for it but you try not to push his buttons.

“And what is your option Jeonghan?”

“I’m thinking about just getting drunk again so I can forget everything that is happening right now.”

What a fucking great idea.

Seungcheol is one of Jeonghan’s closest friends from college. Seungcheol just became your friend because you and Jeonghan were weirdly bound at the hip. You both shared your high school years, and when you two enrolled at the same university you only had two options, pretend you two didn’t know each other, or become conjoined twins. Jeonghan was a business major, you were enrolled in every class that had literature, poetry, or the name of a dead guy on it. But still, you and Seungcheol became great friends even though he is a finance guy. And Seungcheol was the reason you two were on a Vegas trip, the last trip of his life as an unmarried man, he had to make a sketchy deal with his fiancé in order to it to happen but still, according to him, it was worthy.

“Nice shot!” You hear Seungcheol's voice loud, bringing you back to reality. He is clapping as Seokmin - one of his other friends from work hits the ball down the hole.

Seungcheol’s voice, loud and clear, brings you back to reality.

Oh the joys of playing mini golf before lunch, you could spend days and days talking about how much you loved the idea and how every hole seems like a fucking nightmare but you are a married woman. Needless to say this whole situation wasn’t in your 2023 bingo card. You don’t pay attention when it is Jeonghan or Seungcheol’s turn, you wait until you have to put the ball in the hole, it probably takes you double the time, and then it starts again, ad infinitum. At least they are kind enough to not pressure you to perform like Tiger Woods or something.

You think about Jeonghan though. Somehow, he hasn’t changed. Jeonghan was the same Jeonghan you met in high school, of course, he matured and the years turned into baggage, but Jeonghan was still your friend who was playful enough to get married on a whim. Jeonghan was everything you weren’t in a way, somewhat playful and carefree, and still a very practical human being. Jeonghan was mischievous, but yet, not even once, he pushed you until you couldn’t take it, and that makes you think that somehow, with an unknown reason, in your drunk stupor, you wanted to marry Jeonghan, because hell can break loose, the skies can fall, but Jeonghan would never make you do something you did not want to do.

While Jeonghan and Seungcheol are busy hitting those tiny balls Seokmin stops by your side. You like Seokmin, Seokmin is kind, and you constantly think about how he is surviving the finance world, he doesn’t seem cut to it, but somehow he manages to stay alive against the monsters of capitalism, or, worse, he stays alive feed the monsters of capitalism. Ew. Seokmin’s face though seems focused on another thing, he looks in shock and happy at the same time, he probably did the whole hole in less than three shots you think.

“Oh my god,” He almost screams making you jolt in place, in all truth that was pretty much a common occurrence when your day to day involved Seokmin.

“Hm?” You question puzzled, looking at him trying to find a clue of something behind his feature when Jeonghan and Seungcheol finally join the two of you on the sideline.

“What is that?” Seokmin asks and you still without a fucking clue of what he is talking about. “Damn,” he says with his big smile across his face, making the tip of his nose get even more pronounced, “are you guys planning a surprise and I just ruined it?” His face changes in a blink of an eye.

“What surprise?” Jeonghan questions taking a drink of his gatorade like he was in the middle of an excruciating sport and not fucking mini golf after an unsafe amount of alcohol.

“That thing!” Seokmin cheered, and then it downs on you - the big ass ring on your hand, propped on the golf putter, and before you can hide it or chop your hand off the three man in your sight is eying the big damn rock that you forgot about,

“The what?” Seungcheol blurted.

“This is an engagement ring right?” Seokmin asks and you think about an ostrich, putting its head on the ground, you think you can do the same in one of the circuit's holes.

“No, it isn’t, how the hell they are engaged when they aren’t dating?” Seungcheol scoffs, acting like Seokmin is saying something that doesn't make sense, something that happened numerous times before, it could be happening again. It was happening again, at least to Seungcheol.

“We saw that one when we were looking for your fiancée present though,” Seokmin says all pouty and confused, and you think you almost try to defend his point of view as you always do, just because he is cute.

“It isn’t an engagement right?” Seungcheol asks

“It would be weird to be an engagement ring,” Jeonghan acknowledged the absurdity that envelopes the situation that you two are in, you want to try to take off the ring and just throw it across the field of mini golf, but a) it looked extra expensive, b) the three guys didn't even blink looking at your hand.

“Did you buy for aesthetic proposal?” Seokmin asks, "A girl that works with the human resources team did buy one just because she thought it was pretty."

“Of course,” Seungcheol claps, “I mean fashion was never your strong suit,” He says and it almost feels like a jab, “I almost brought that one, Jeonghan was dead set on this, saying it was the ring, but it was a bit on the expensive side”

“How expensive are we talking about?” You try to pry your body from reacting physically to the fact that Jeonghan shredded a fucking invoice and receipt, and the fact that even Seungcheol - the guy who buys twelves tumblers just because it was cute and ends up giving them away finds that expensive sets a new parameter of money waste.

“You didn’t check the price?" Seokmin asks, when you remain silent he continues, “Wow be you must be nice, balling and shit."

“How expensive are we talking about Seungcheol?” You try again, "Seokmin?" If you can’t return this damn thing at least you can try to sell it later. If you can’t find someone who can buy this you can sell for those weird and sketchy stores but you need to know how much you are actually losing on the deal, well, not you, Jeonghan but still, if you know the man he will just accept his fate and never move a muscle to deal with this ring situation.

“You really didn't check the price hun?” Seungcheol questions raising his eyebrow, like he always did when he couldn’t quite believe in you and it always made you feel angry with him. It was a tale almost, even when you were telling the truth he always raised that eyebrow questioning you, making you explain yourself.

“I brought the ring,” Jeonghan says nonchalantly like he is saying that he brought the bread on his way home. Jeonghan had this thing, a completely loath to let other people know his truest feelings. Even if he was one step away from a panic attack he would not tell you.

“Why would you do that?” Seungcheol asks again his voice is two tones higher, and you feel like he is questioning the two of you, and in his own mind he is the bad cop in the situation - Seungcheol liked that type of shit, and you think that maybe he is so into that because Jeonghan is his polar opposite, never giving Seungcheol a reaction.

“I told you I thought it was a beautiful ring man,” Jeonghan deadpans and take his fingers to move his bangs out of his eyes - making him look like a fucking prick, looking down at everyone else, and you know that just tickles something in Seungcheol. “What I am trying to say,” Jeonghan tries again, “is that the ring It is not an engagement ring because I didn’t ask her to marry me yet,” Jeonghan says walking by your side and enveloping your shoulder in an awkward hug. “I just confessed my feelings, it might be over the top a bit but you guys know I just had my eye on the ring.”

“Dude! Finally!” Seokmin says hugging Jeonghan, and you almost feel yourself choking on air.

When Jeonghan is free he whispers against your ear, his breath on your skin making you shrink, “Just bear with it.”

“What?” Seungcheol asks “Out of nowhere, you confessed your feelings? With an engagement ring?”

“Not an engagement ring Seungcheol we won't crash your wedding, relax,” Jeonghan says again, rolling his eyes.

“How much it was?” You try again dead set on finding out how much that was, apparently a new hyper-fixation.

“Babe,” Jeonghan says looking at you with a mischievous smile across his face, “it is not polite to talk about the price tag”

“What the hell I am watching right now?” Seungcheol bristled, more in anger than in frustration.

“It was long overdue really,” Seokmin gushed, in a terrible contrast to Seungcheol’s features, his voice is loud and his big smile stretches across his face, “I thought it was so fucking weird you two sharing a hotel room with the excuse of saving money, like we know Jeonghan has money,” Seokmin points to the ring, making your skin crawl.

“We are returning this,” you tell Jeonghan, your voice low while elbowing his ribs.

“Baby I told you,” Jeonghan appealed, grabbing your shoulder “We can’t do that”

“Like I personally found you guys always so weird like, I think I even asked Seungcheol if you guys were married in the past because you guys are really,” he moves his hands in a weird move in a way to mean how close you always had been, “like truly crazy and then I asked Seungcheol and he was like it is never gonna happen and I was like-"

And Seokmin goes on for about a good five minutes about how he thought the two of you were a couple, and in a way, you were so used to it that it didn't even startle you. The problem was that Seokmin truly believed Jeonghan’s lies, one thing was to think that you two were in a relationship - everyone had this basic reaction since the two were in college, even one of Jeonghan’s ex-girlfriend thought of, one of your coworkers too, Jeonghan’s door to door neighbors too, almost every single soul you two met. That alone was something you began to understand, yeah you and Jeonghan had a weird level of intimacy.

If you mash together your college years you can sum up in - of course, we do not date, of course, you can go ahead and kiss him in this horrible pub, oh yeas I am living in his dorm at ungodly hours just because we decided to binge watch a docuseries, oh if I am wearing Jeonghan's clothes? Haha He saved my ass because I doped the coffee on my clothes - ps. The coffee didn't exist, and his girlfriend did break things up a week later, Jeonghan swore it wasn't because of you. Once one guy broke up with you because when he smelled you he could recognize Jeonghan's smell on you, Jeonghan toke as his duty to just fuck up with that guy's mind for a whole month. He told you over and over again that the guy was wrong and basically called you a cheater, so you might as well plant enough evidence to give them the mental image - Jeonghan planted underwear on said guy's returning box, a note with his own handwriting with meet me in secret at the library, and even brought you a small dog plushie to put in the box and when you asked why he said 'he will think another guy gave you a present'.

Knowing Jeonghan and the fact that he loved shocking people this whole act today didn't really shock you, in the end, you were the only that understand Jeonghan, because you would never ever fall for this weird ass act. Your default reaction to anything Jeonghan related was a fair amount of mistrust.

“What are you two doing?” Seungcheol asks again, his voice is laced with suspicion and mistrust.

“Doing what?” Jeonghan asks, his hand going to your hair and placing it behind your ear.

“Whatever you guys are doing,” Seungcheol says pointing his fingers at the both of you, and you think it is dumb to even pretend something to Seungcheol, he knows you, he knows Jeonghan he knows nothing like that would even happen and you still don't know why Jeonghan is even trying to lie to him.

“Jeonghan-” you whine, marrying in Vegas is indeed something that brings you shame and regret but lying to your friends is even worse, how would you deal with that later?

You think you would prefer listening to Seungcheol’s monologue about how both of you are completely crazy, unreasonable, and unreliable, all of that rings true now. And it was Seungcheol, he would end up knowing somehow, even if you didn’t tell him now, you both would end up telling him. This whole scheme would fall like a house of cards somehow. You couldn't knock on Seungcheol door and say haha we were kidding, but Jeonghan could, you would make him do it.

“Seungcheol that’s actually-”

“What are we supposed to believe that after what? A decade you just woke up brought a ring and confessed your feelings?” Seungcheol asks, raising his voice enough to make you look around the damn mini golf to see if anyone is insane enough to care about this damn scene, “When you are a commitment phobe who has been on my ass for the past several months?”

“Look man, can you just drop it?” Jeonghan asks again - in the same aloof way he uses when he wants to piss you off, almost like he is flirting with the idea of being a patronizing prick.

“Of course not, what the hell,” Seungcheol says, his tone still on the angrier side “You didn’t even remotely tell us about this."

“Yeah well some people can actually keep secret,” Jeonghan says bitterly.

“What was that supposed to mean?” Seungcheol questions and just by the tone of his voice you know that shit is going down, you have seen countless fights between the two to know that Seungcheol was on the edge.

“It means that I can actually keep my individuality as a human being because I don’t have a crazy girlfriend who has trust issues so I need to overshare everyone’s personal life because she thinks you can cheat on her every monday to friday man,” Jeonghan quipped. He was not the one who loved to fight, Jeonghan was actually someone who would just shrug and resolve the situation later when it came back to bite his ass, but damn when he wanted to fight he was ready for it.

“Damn,” Seokmin breathed.

“What the fuck Jeonghan,” You and Seungcheol say at the same time, both in disbelief.

“It is the truth, isn't it?” Jeonghan chastised, “Dude you are traveling with friends and somehow the whole lunch was about how your girlfriend was pissed that you actually brought a ring to placate how angry she was."

“Jeonghan stop talking.” you plead, holding his arms trying to get his attention, to make him stop before things end up in a point of no return.

“Why?” Jeonghan asks you this time, eyes focused on you and not Seungcheol.

“Because you are being a fucking asshole now,” you say “This is Seungcheol bachelor’s party the man is getting married,” you try again like Seungcheol is not in the room.

“Oh you think I don’t know about that?" He says exasperated, "We are in Vegas and this motherfucker drink one beer and told us to go to our own hotel yesterday so we needed to get drunk and-”

“Jeonghan,” you say again almost like a kid tugging Jeonghan's by his shirt sleeve.

“We are in fucking Vegas and we didn’t visit one strip club and we are playing mini golf that something off about this whole trip,” Jeonghan says loudly chuckling at his own words.

“Are you seriously right now? You are going on a tirade against your friend because he doesn’t take you to strip clubs?” It is your time to act in disbelief - strip club? Seriously?

“Maybe if we were at a strip club yesterday,” Jeonghan says eying you.

“You know what?” Seungcheol speaks up. “Fuck you, you are uninvited by the way, you go on and on about how you don’t think I should marry, well, then you don’t need to show up.”

You and Jeonghan are left side by side on the mini golf field. Standing there while the world still moving around. You want to break out in laughter, you want to just laugh at how the two of your friends seem to wake up on the wrong foot, you want to knock Jeonghan's head off his shoulder, but you end up just walking to return to the damn golf club.

The whole way to the hotel you and Jeonghan spend in complete silence, not one uttering a single word.

And apparently - now you are the one that wants to start a fight out of nowhere. You are the one that wants to scream about how Jeonghan was being an unreasonable asshole. You try to wrap your head around his reasons, about why he would act like that and nothing that comes up in your own brain seems right.

So when you both are back in the hotel room - now with new sheets thank god, and less alcohol smell you just ask in the most nonsubtle way you can, you hold your own waist and ask like he was a teenager throwing a rude tantrum, “What was that?”

“What?” Jeonghan asks taking his time to take off his jewelry, watch the first thing, and later necklace, if he had any bracelet would be the third step of his routine.

“The whole Seungcheol marriage thing?”

“Well, you don’t have to deal with him drunk every Friday night telling you how overwhelmed and how he feels trapped since they set the wedding date,” Jeonghan says shrugging.

“You told me he was going on and on about how great marriage is,” you say sitting on the bed, trying to understand all the things you apparently didn't know about Jeonghan and Seungcheol.

“Yeah, he has his own list of cons in his note app," Jeonghan huffs, "every time he thinks about calling it off, I think I just memorized it because he reads more than once a day”

“Fuck,” you say in a breath. In your own mind, Seungcheol not even once doubted his choice to get married, not even once seemed unsure of his decision.

“I was the one that said Vegas," Jeonghan says sitting on your side, both of you looking at the widow that faces a fucking parking lot, "I thought that he would get drunk enough to actually mess everything up because he can’t do sober, and by mess everything up I mean breaking up with his crazy girlfriend."

“Yeah, still, you didn’t need to be a fucking asshole,” you say seriously this time trying to face him.

“Well, I panicked ok?" Jeonghan finally breaks, "I wasn’t going to tell that man who is having a daily mental breakdown that we married in fucking Vegas.”

“I mean, I don't know about you but I think your friendship with Seungcheol is more important than being lectured because you married in Vegas, Hannie,” you tell him softly, patting his thigh.

“Well,” Jeonghan says, letting his hand on top of yours, “I guess I can't be gracious always,” he says with a sad smile.

“I know you are stressed out," You say calmly, "but you lashed out at Seungcheol and it wasn't great,”

“The fuck you are defending him for?” Jeonghan says standing up and pretending he is searching for something in that damn room.

“Are you serious?”

“What?" Jeonghan chuckles, "he can go on and on about how I am a commitment-phobe type of guy who is fucked up enough to not have a fiancée like him and it is all good and fun and games? But when I call out his fucking weird relationship I am the bad guy?”

“Jeonghan,” You try but before you can even finish he cuts you.

“No, don't Jeonghan me, the fuck,” he retorted, “you have the excuse of not knowing because I don't tell you, you could think I am an asshole and a horrible boyfriend because every time someone breaks up with me even though I am a great catch,” he laughs bitterly, “You can do that, Seungcheol can't do that, he doesn't have an excuse, he knows why.”

“I never ever think about you like that,” you say sincerely because it is the truth, never once have you thought about Jeonghan being afraid of commitment or being a shit asshole. You always thought about how every girlfriend of his always looked and sounded more in love with him than the other way around, but that wasn't exactly a character flaw.

“I know,” he says already sounding exhausted.

“No I don't think you do,” you say sternly, “like it never crossed my mind really, I always thought about how they were crazy for letting you go, so what you don't want to marry someone? the fuck you can still have a great life and a great relationship with someone without a ring, and I know you are capable of it," and to your own ears you sound almost bitter, how they could be so dumb? To have a chance to have Jeonghan and let him go? “You have always been there for me, you never once wavered, I have no reason to ever think of you in that light and I don't think Seungcheol is being fair, he wasn't, but he is getting married in three weeks Han.”

“Yeah and I am telling him his girlfriend has been a freak since week two when she threw a fit because she was jealous of you,” Jeonghan says shocking you, "because according to her own crazy brain, you are way too close to men so who knows what you will do when she turns her back."

“Of me?” You say pointing at yourself, “Damn, she is crazy."

“That’s what I am trying to tell him, and he isn't fuck listening I guess.”

The whole afternoon you think about Jeonghan.

You think about him when he is lying in the bed on his cellphone, and you continuously think about him when you find him napping in the same bed. You think about everything you don't know about your friend, and you think about everything he doesn’t share with you, that he chooses not to. And you know every single human has secrets, and there are things Jeonghan doesn't know about you too. But knowing that it is one thing, dealing with the emotions that come with it is another thing altogether. Why he would not tell you? Why he would tell Seungcheol?

Those questions live in your brain, rattling and making sounds every time they crash against your skull. You think about your friendship as well. Jeonghan was always there for you. He was there when you had your first heartbreak in the third year of high school, he was there when Mark broke up with you in college, and he was there every step of the way. He was there when you were sick, he was there when your favorite auntie died, he was there when you were panicking before your first job interview, he was there. You just couldn't wrap your mind around the fact that someone would call a man like that a commitment phobe or break up with him.

And what he said was true in some way, Jeonghan never broke up with anyone, he was always the one who was dumped and weirdly okay with it. Every time you talked about someone who didn't know Jeonghan you always painted him as the perfect guy, and it was true - he had a great job and his bank account was crazy even though he worked to the capital devil, he was someone who ha they shit together too, he helped his parent, he helped his friend, his house was never messy.

Every time you broke up with someone you talked about how you wanted a guy just like Jeonghan, nice and fun, but also low maintenance in a way, someone you could just comfortable be being with, without having to try too hard and do too much. And every time you met someone new, you always trusted Jeonghan's opinion, if he vetoed someone he had his reasons, like the weird guy that two months later was on the news because he emptied someone's bank account because they let their bank account info saved on the computer or something like that.

If you thought about it - really being married to Jeonghan was not even close to the worst thing that happened to you. Founding a dead rat once in the subway was worse, or that time when you found out that your roommate left the door open for weeks before you just never went to sleep before her just so you could make sure to close the door, and 95% of the time she didn't close the fucking door, that was worse than being married to Jeonghan.

“The fuck?” Jeonghan groans.

“What?”

“Apparently I messaged my account manager our marriage certificate asking if he could officialize the house-buying proposal, and apparently the bank green flaged it? The owner needs to accept the proposal of course, and it may take a while but-" Jeonghan stops halfway, almost like zooming out, staring at the wall ahead of him.

“I guess you are soon to be a house owner?” You question bringing Jeonghan back to reality.

“No, no-"

“Seriously if it is something that is helping you I don't mind, we can come back to Vegas a few weeks after the deal to annul it I looked up online it is not that hard we just need the documentation and the wedding certificate so," and it was true - you did research how to deal with the whole thing, it seemed easy, maybe that's why they actually let people marry crazy drunk, so they can pay to annul it and the city double the revenue, apparently crazy amount of drinking and casinos were not paying the bill.

“About that,” Jeonghan says, his hands tugging the sides of his hair.

“About what?” You ask.

"The wedding certificate,” he says, finally looking at you, his eyes big and still puffy because of his nap, “I think, I mean- I am pretty sure it is shredded with the receipt and invoice."

“What the fuck Jeonghan?” You shout, oh man, you are going to kill this man. The image is already on your head - jumping on that very same bed like a crazy woman and kicking him before you just kill him with your bare hands.

“I know,” he says almost in a grunt, laying down like a starfish.

“Why did you shred everything up for god's sake," you say almost stopping on the floor.

“I don't know okay?" Jeonghan says, sitting on the bed now, his cellphone forgotten, "Why did we marry? Can you answer that?”

“OOh," you huff, "We did get married, but I am soon to be a window if I don't kill in the next five minutes I swear to god”

“Wait, what changed if it is helping me?” Jeonghan says, back to his mischievous self, with a small smile across his face almost finding endearing the way that you try to threaten his life.

“You are making everything argh-” You are losing your damn mind and if you end up crazy it is Jeonghan's fault, now that he is indeed your husband has another tingle to you like a thriller movie, but you are afraid you are in your own Cameron Diaz Ashton Kutcher low budget 00's movie. Maybe you should take the whole thriller movie, it seems, weirdly, less weird. "First we cannot return this ring now I have to find someone who wants to buy it without documentation so everyone will think this shit is totally fake, I mean I would too, don't get me wrong I wouldn't trust myself either with this jewelry," you go off - almost missing the point, rambling really, before you get back to the point, "now we need to find a second copy of this certificate I swear to god we could just go to the nearest courtroom and annul the wedding I googled it."

"I already told you you can keep the ring," Jeonghan says - voice low in contrast to your high-pitched complaints.

"Why would I keep this ring Jeonghan?" You question, it sounds weird in your own ears.

The truth is, you did love the ring, it is a beautiful ring but the truth is - you can't keep it. It shouldn't be yours to keep. It should go to someone Jeonghan wants to actually marry, even though you can't bring yourself to take it off your finger, even though you didn't even try to take it off after this morning.

And a breath almost gets locked in your throat. Why? You think, and deep down you know you have your answer but you just shove everything down when you hear Jeonghan's voice, "Well If you sell it I won't take the money."

"I can just pour it into my savings accounts," you say petulantly.

"The fuck," Jeonghan bites back.

"What? You said you didn't want it so I can keep the money," You try your best to sound even close to someone somewhat rational in this matter.

"It is a present you can't sell a present," Jeonghan though, never has a problem looking like he is saying the most rational thing ever even when it doesn't make any sense.

"I totally can," you bite back trying to hold your ground just out of pure spite. He didn't accept that cursed ring which is not even supposed to be yours why the hell he is making such a big deal of you selling or throwing it in the sea?

"You can't," Jeonghan says again, and you think back to your friendship and a lot of times it was like that - a lot of things without proper explanations.

"Why not?" So you just hold your ground - again, he will not win this one, this time he will have to explain.

"Because it is a present I picked up for you. I actually thought about it, I mean before drinking buying apparently, but I thought it would suit you" Jeonghan says, "Just don't sell, if you don't want to use it okay fine but just, just don't sell it, don't hurt a man's pride like that,"

You want to try again - to say you will sell this damn ring if you go to the store and it can't be returned, and you want to say you will throw it on the nearest river because Las Vegas is indeed very far from the sea. You want to push him until he says okay I take the damn ring and I will hold onto it and pass it through generations. But when Jeonghan speaks and he sounds so tired and so hurt you just give up and lock yourself in the bathroom pretending to take a shower before leaving this hellhole of a place.

You look at yourself in the mirror and ask yourself how the hell everything happened in such a short amount of time. A marriage, a fight, a ring that makes you go crazy. Maybe you are closer to having a breakdown, maybe it is the time to face things that you are trying to keep hidden under the rug. You think that maybe it is time to just downpour everything.

But like always, you don't. You bottle everything up and pretend that everything is fine.

The last few days in Vegas have been less eventful, thanks God. Jeonghan and you go to weird restaurants and for a walk around the town, and you think about how you got married in the city of Sins.

At least it is fitting to think that pride and wrath have something to do with your own stay in this city.

You often think about Seungcheol, sending him and Seokmin a message or two, or a total of 15. Seokmin answers you, Seungcheol doesn't. And you need to hold yourself back when you type down a fuck you but don't send. You try to pry on Jeonghan's end too, but after the third time that he just doesn't answer you with words but just a cold stare you just let it go. Maybe that's why Seungcheol and Jeonghan have been friends for so long - pieces of the same cloth.

The flight back is not that tricky but at the same time when Jeonghan drops you out at your door, you are ready for a 30 minutes shower and drop dead for a whole week. When you open the door you are glad that your roommate at least remembered to close and lock the door. Character development you think, maybe she is getting better, maybe you don't need to actually move into Jeonghan's house as a safety precaution. But something doesn't seem quite right - there is a new sofa in the living room, which isn't exactly a problem, really, your sofa kinda sucked. But when you look again, you understand what is missing.

No, she didn't, she would not be that crazy. You refuse to believe that. You left all your luggage in the middle of the living room and ran to your bed, maybe she put the side table there, of course, maybe she just moved because the new sofa seems bigger. But there is nothing that resembles the side table in your room, so you try again - her room now, still nothing.

You send a message.

You try to call.

So you try the next best thing - call Jeonghan so he can calm you down. He doesn't pick up. You sit on the floor, right beside your luggage, and you refuse to sit down on that sofa, it is pretty it seems comfortable but now is the object that you hate the most. You would prefer, I don't know, to take part in a scientific experiment that might fuck up your brain function than sit down on that thing.

The concept of time and space is a funny thing you think when you lose count of how many minutes or hours you have been staring at the door, it has been probably a long time. Until your roommate opens the door with a big guy by her side, great, all that you needed was an audience for your lash out.

"Oh," she says, big guy with his big hands on her hips and he knows he is not getting laid today, because he sees you and he gets so upright he seems like a fucking power pole, "I didn't know you would be back today."

"Laurel, darling, where is my side table?" You ask without beating around the bush.

"Oh right," she says letting her keys on the counter without fucking locking the door you have never been closer to a have a fucking stroke, you can feel your blood pressure rising, "the sofa was a bit bigger, you know I told you I was thinking about changing and this was on discount, but the table didn't really had a place in the room anymore so I put on marketplace a cute girl come up to pick in the same day, great right?"

You blink once, twice, and the words don't even come, you are so astonished that you are left speechless. Maybe you could get over the unsaid desire of getting murdered by a serial killer, and maybe you could get over the leftover food on the counter, and you could even get over the whole singing in the shower when you are fucking tone-deaf really.

But that. That was one thing you could never get over.

"Are you fucking insane? Are you fucking crazy?" You ask, the big guy taking a step back, "Or do you just have fun being the most self-centered bitch in this part of the country?"

"What the fuck?" She says, and oh god, you want to jump on her bones, you want to leave this woman bald.

"Did you ask Laurel?" You ask again, remaining sitting on the floor because if you pick yourself up you are probably no longer be a first-time offender. "Did you ever think about asking if you could sell, give or even create a fucking bonfire with the wood of my deceased auntie's side table? Did you fucking asked?"

"Oh I didn't know," she says simply. You feel the tears streaming down your face and you don't actually know if it is because of sadness or anger.

"So funny Laurel because I don't even fucking know how you function like a human being because your brain is so fucking empty of common sense really," you bristled, finally getting up and picking up your big backup, "Look I don't know how I don't care really, it is up to you, but you get my table back in perfect state, and you will pay this month rent fully because I am not living with you I would prefer Satan as my roommate really, and you may as well find another roommate because I will not move a muscle to put someone inside this apartment," You say moving past Laurel and the crazy big guy, "and by the way Laurel? I would fucking lock the door today you don't really think about how many insane people leave in this world."

You say finally get out of the apartment.

You don't really stop walking because you are afraid you will just fall on the ground, crying in the middle of the street in the fetal position, not really a pretty picture. You know Jeonghan's house is not really far, a twenty minute walk. You wish you had an epiphany when you see yourself at his door, a moment to say 'wow why am I here?'. But you know yourself enough to know why, you know Jeonghan enough to know why you are at his door.

You know Jeonghan will open the door for you, and you hope deep down that he will hunt Laurel-the-sattan-spit-roommate down.

When Jeonghan opens the door, he looks puzzled, his face shows that he is trying to understand what is happening. You are sure he was ready to say that he didn't order something and to check on his neighbor.

"What happened?" Jeonghan asks when he sees you on his door instead of a lost delivery guy.

"Laurel," you say, and before having the chance to say anything else, you already feel the pain, you don't want to cry but you end up doing that nonetheless. You even hiccup once or twice before you feel Jeonghan's arms against you, enveloping you, making you feel safe.

"What did she do?" Jeonghan tries again, one of his hands still around you, while the other cradles your head, his hand softly stroking your head.

"She sold my side table," you say, still hiccuping your way through the sentence and you feel so fucking dumb, crying in Jeonghan's arms, and you feel Jeonghan's body goes completely rigid before he holds your face in his hands and you almost flinch because you cannot face that man in this state, and second, his hands are cold.

"She sold your side table?" He asks and you just nod, it is the only thing you can do, "The side table?" He tries again just to receive the same reaction, his hands wrap around you, but this time he hugs you tighter, your head smashed against his chest and somehow you find a resemblance of comfort.

Jeonghan takes you to the kitchen, and when you feel his arms release you, you just sink to the ground, your back to the cabinets. Jeonghan hands you a cup of water, and hugs you again, his hands rubbing your back like you are some kind of a toddler, and that alone makes you sniff even more. That motion alone takes you back to your college days when you went back home to your auntie's funeral - Jeonghan drove the whole way, and the only sound inside the car was you crying. Back then you didn't know that Jeonghan lost an important exam so he could drive you back home, later when he was pilled with an ungodly amount of work and told you he needed to do an extra project so he didn't fluke his class you cried all over again - part of it because you felt guilty, part of it was because it was Jeonghan, and you could count on him for anything.

And here he was, years later taking care of you again. You never doubt he would, that alone - the certainty that Jeonghan is in your life should scare you, but it never did. Not now, and not even back in college when Seungcheol joked about every time a new girl showed up alongside Jeonghan. Somehow you knew that Jeonghan would be there if you needed him, if you ever shouted that man would run leaps. The thing was, Jeonghan never told you anything remotely close to make you believe that, he never promised you anything, but Jeonghan actions always reassured you that no matter what, he would be there if you needed him the most.

You think about it how - weirdly - you were never in that position, how you never once was that person to Jeonghan, the person that reassure Jeonghan or be someone he could lean on. There is a deep down desire that you don't quite acknowledge over the years - that you want to be someone important to Jeonghan. Someone as important as Jeonghan is to you.

When you feel you can finally breathe you get out of Jeonghan's hold to go to the bathroom, in a way searching a way to escape your own feelings and thoughts, pretending you just need to wash your face. When you return to the kitchen, Jeonghan is in the same place, sitting on the floor staring at his own hands. Now, calmer, you take the whole scene of the kitchen; the single glass of wine on the counter, the open bottle, Jeonghan's cellphone, and his notebook.

“Were you drinking?” You ask after a while, sitting on his sides and copying his positions - legs stretched and back flushed against the cabinets. The hiccups are still there but they’re less frequent now, and you can finally breathe on your own.

“Yeah I was,” Jeonghan says, stretching his legs and looking at his feet cladded with old socks.

Jeonghan thinks about the minutes before you arrived, how he was just scrolling on his phone and drinking alone because his mood was so dreadful that he didn't want to make anyone suffer in his company. The only person he would subject to a vent session was Seungcheol, so drinking alone was the only answer. The truth is plain and simple really - Jeonghan has been feeling miserable for quite some time now, mainly because even though it pays extremely well his job sucks. He works for and with shitty people, but it pays well, so that should be enough - why it isn't? But all of that seems so fucking small against the feeling of you losing the last physical thing of someone you loved, someone who was so important to you.

“Why were you drinking alone Jeonghan?” You ask, giving his thigh little taps but still looking ahead - you see yourself in the mirror, you are so swollen you can't face the man like that.

“I,” Jeonghan ponders, thinking about if it is the right time to just go on a tangent about how he works sucks, how his best friend isn't talking to him, and how he wants to go back to his high schooler self and just start everything over, even if he fucks everything over is way better than this gray area that he is stuck on. “We can talk about me another time,”

“Just," You breathe deeply, your head almost knocking against the counter door, "do it for me then,” you tell him softly, almost pleading, “tell me so I can take my mind off this shit.”

“I think,” Jeonghan says, “no, scratch that,” he laughs dryly, “I am sure that I am fucking miserable,” he looks at you waiting for your reaction, “and I’ve been miserable for a while, I just fucking hate everything,”

“Han-” you try to say, and you almost feel like you don't have tears anymore, but if you could physically cry you would.

“I am not depressed, don’t worry, I just,” he trails off, “I hate that fucking job and if I have to spend another year there I would probably kill a rich guy, I have a few investments, and I have savings, and I-”

“You should buy the house,” You blurt out, remembering Jeonghan's eyes looking at the pictures of the house.

“What?” Jeonghan says almost choking on nothing.

“You should buy the house, just give me one room and I will pay rent, we can share utilities and food, and then you can quit,” you declared like it was something people just do on a whim, like you are not even having a stroke just thinking about the process of ending your lease contract, but the sky can open you are not sharing another day in that apartment.

“Not a great deal when I have a fucking loan on my name,” Jeonghan bemused, almost laughing at your non-sense.

“Just don’t tell the bank,” you shrug.

“Well,” Jeonghan says, almost like he is trying to assess the situation, see how everything could plan out from different angles.

“Come on, tell me,” You say finally caving into your curiosity, poking Jeonghan with your elbow.

“Tell you what?” Jeonghan asks but you can feel the playful tone in his voice, almost a childlike wonder of being caught doing something he shouldn't do.

“What is the plan?” You whisper - you don't know why but this whole thing seems like a secret, like something Jeonghan doesn't want to see the light of day yet, something he has been keeping under wraps.

“What plan?”

“I know you Jeonghan," You say finally looking at him, a small smile still stretched across his face, "I have known you for quite a while, come on, don’t underestimate me,”

“What are you talking about?” Jeonghan says playing the fool but the smile is still there, making you probe a little bit more.

“I know you, you would never think about quitting without a black plan besides having a few savings and weird investments, tell me,” You almost pleaded, turning your body to him, your hands on his thighs supporting your own weight on him. And you know you need to bring out the big guns - the begging eyes, almost laughing at yourself.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan laughs at you, his head tilting back and all, like you are the most amusing creature ever.

“Come on,” you urge, using your hands on his leg to almost shake him.

“It is not a plan, it is a desire,” he begins, “I’m thinking about sitting down and doing a few design classes, it can be online but,”

“No-” You say surprised, your smile big across your face because you know where this is going.

“Maybe,” he says still leaning on the counter, eyes closed and that infuriating smile still on.

“You can totally do it,” you tell him almost jumping on your place.

“It is not a plan yet,” he explains, in a vain attempt to make you tone down your excitement, but every time he looks at you he thinks he can give you that, soothe your pain with his dreams and hopes that won't really get out of paper. At least today he can do that for you.

“I can help you,” you say, finally changing positions and sitting almost by his feet, facing him, Jeonghan's hand on your ankle.

“How can you help me?” He asks you, squeezing your ankle and you pretend you are going to kick him, but he just holds your ankle and puts it on his lap.

“We can do it,” you say completely seriously because you truly believe he can do it, achieving his teenage dream job. “You know me, I am an army general, I have discipline, and I love a good worksheet, I am an editor,"

“What you being an editor has to do with it?” Jeonghan says while he tickles your feet, making you almost jerk.

"Stop that," you say using your other to nudge him, "I did a few children's books mind you,” you say, using your free hand to pinch Jeonghan's feet in the form of a threat, “I know how to promote things, I know how to deal with due dates and with manufacturers, you just need to sit down after lunch watch your boring ass class like a college student and hand your resignation letter,”

“It is not something that will actually work and be profitable,” Jeonghan huffs.

“Jeonghan, be honest with me,” you say, this time in a more serious tone.

“Okay,” He says, hands leaving your feet and closing together on his stomach.

“Would you ever take that leap with you couldn’t live till 90 years old with the money you have on the back?” You joke, breaking him in half, his laughter resonating in the kitchen.

“No?” He jokes back.

“We are doing it,” you say like his opinion in his own laugh and plans don't actually matter that much, but Jeonghan just smiles back at you - sometimes, he thinks about how you are the only one who can actually match his insanity, the only one that goes with his plan, or come up with even weird ones.

And Jeonghan knows he is fucked, because every time he thinks he can’t love you more you show him that love grows and expands beyond borders. Lately, Jeonghan favorite song is My Love Mine All Mine, and when he looks at you, in his kitchen, face still swollen and red from crying Mitski sings in his ear - Nothing in the world belongs to me But my love, mine, all mine Nothing in the world is mine for free But my love, mine, all mine, all mine. It resonates with him, the fact that his love for you is his to carry. And this alone makes Jeonghan happy in a weird way, because he knows how much love you deserve, and he is happy that he is the one that loves you, and he loves you for free.

Even though Jeonghan knows you don’t love him like he does love you he thinks about how you are the only person that is always there for him. Everyone that he knows would make Jeonghan just let it go. Why the fuck he would build a business around children’s toys? Why would he resign and leave a great career that gives enough money and intel to just go around and draw a few rabbits and frogs on a page? Just because of joy? Jeonghan always knew that joy alone could not make you survive on this earth.

But yet you were doing just that. Telling him to drop everything and just try to be happy. Right now Jeonghan could drop on his knee and ask you to marry him if you weren’t legally married and if he wasn’t a fucking coward. Sometimes he hates himself for that, the way he holds onto something he knows it is not quite enough but it is the only thing he can have.

Jeonghan thinks about- everything really, but mostly how joyful you are in your own way. How you would buy sweet treats just for the sake of it, how you had every single first copy of the books you worked on even if they were beaten in the process and almost unreadable. He thinks about the first time you showed up on his door, a big book in hands and a smile across your face, buzzing full of pride because it was your first fucking book and your boss give you one in the very first batch - back then you were just the one that did the toughest job, reviewing everything.

Jeonghan knows he loves you, he knows for quite a while.

Jeonghan knew before the first girlfriend dumped him because he was jealous of you. When his third girlfriend asked him if he liked you he couldn’t even lie, when his fifth girlfriend broke up and for the fifth time, the reason was you he just stopped trying dates altogether.

Jeonghan doesn't remember much of the marriage itself, he remembers bits and pieces of an Elton John in a 70's costume and how the chapel was way hotter, making Jeonghan's armpits wet, not a great look for a groom. But he remembers everything before that - in a less hazed lens. He remembers telling you in the hotel bar how he loved you for quite a while now, and how you looked so shocked - telling him he should quit lying. He swore on his first dog's grave, weirdly that made you believe him. He told you how he hated Mark - your college boyfriend that literature guy who gave you poems that you still keep as presents, he remembers you saying how you would keep every post-it note if Jeonghan wrote them in the future. It was a promise, you said holding your pinkie finger out for him. He remembers buying you the ring, you outside the store because he knew you would think that the chosen ring was too much, too big, too expensive, any ring will do it you told him before letting him inside, but he couldn't do it, he could only choose the prettiest ring for the prettiest girl.

Jeonghan remembers his vow, promising he would take care of you, that he would write love letters for the rest of his life on every special date because you hated presents. And Jeonghan remembers how you two kissed in the chapel, on the uber back to the hotel, in the hotel room - more than you should have, because now it is the only thing he can think about it and you don't fuck remember. Jeonghan thought about running, about changing cities and even country - investments were pretty much the same everywhere in the world really. But the reality was that even if he moved, his love was still his to keep, and he would do that heartedly. He was a coward, but he still had his pride, and if that was the price to pay, then, be It.

“Hey, come here,” He says, finally lifting himself off the ground.

“What?” You ask, looking at him still sitting on the floor.

“Come here,” He says again, giving his hands so you can get up.

“What? You are weird what is going on,” you say finally getting up on your feet.

“Come here,” Jeonghan says and before you approach him his arms are already by your side, enveloping you in a thigh hug. “Thank you,” he says softly, “thank you for everything really,”

“Are you drunk Yoon Jeonghan?” you ask, your own voice muffled by the tight embrace.

“No,” Jeonghan laughs, and you can feel his whole body move, “I’m serious, thank you for being there for me even when you have shit on your own to deal with,” He says, his chin on top of your head, “and thank you for not thinking I am a commitment phobic asshole.”

“You are still on that? I told you I never saw you like that stop being dumb."

“I know, I am just-” Jeonghan doesn't finish his sentence, his arms still around you, his heart beating by your ear.

“Look you are drunk, at least there is nothing much we can fuck up being drunk together after getting married in Vegas," you say and Jeonghan feels a pang, almost like when he stubs his little finger on the corner of random furniture, but he doesn't say anything, "give me a sip of your wine you asshole,” you say getting free of his embrace and holding the bottle of wine

“Come on! Don’t drink it straight from the bottle, there is a glass right there!” Jeonghan protested.

“Come on Yoon Jeonghan, I know you, I know you since you didn’t have enough cups in your first kitchen, don't play the proper guy with me,” you say like basic manners don't exist, and sitting on his counter.

“I grow up I am an adult now,” Jeonghan says, but he doesn't really move a muscle to pick another glass of wine for you, he thinks it is his biggest flaw - the fact that you can walk over him countless times and Yoon Jeonghan will just let you do whatever you want even if he pretends that it is against his will.

“Oh, totally,” You look at him, and even though the phrase itself has a bite to it your voice is honest, “Not to go back to sappy times, but you really did Hannie, you are really growing so much, and I am so proud of you,”

"Shhhh-” Jeonghan murmurs trying to shut you up and you know it is mainly because he is so fucking shy that you almost laugh.

“By the way,” You say taking another sip from the bottle. “I’m so moving in with you and I can even deal with only one room if you don’t sell any of my stuff.”

“Shut up,” Jeonghan says kissing the top of your head, “you can have the whole house, just don’t set it on fire.”

Ultimately, that actually happens.

You actually move with Jeonghan into his dream house. The house is 98% bare, without the furniture of the last owner besides the utilities. But a) it is better than living with your satan-spit roommate, b) Jeonghan has been sleeping on his own couch for over two weeks now because even though you say it is okay you can't spend that time in your own apartment he refuses to let you near Laurel.

But somehow, Jeonghan and you make a home out of the new house. You take the bookshelves on the left, all the books you edited in your lifetime on a special shelf right in your point of view. Jeonghan takes the bookshelves on the right, a lot of the books you edited and gifted him are scattered across it because he doesn’t really care about arranging his shelves in a particular order.

Every time Jeonghan sees a nice piece of furniture he sends you a picture of it, and you two chat about if it fits the room, and the colors would clash. In a weird way your collection of cups and mugs triples the size, indeed you are engrossed with buying new ones, but the thing is - you always pick two of them now. Jeonghan’s favorite is a weird bunny mug that you never actually use because it ears always make drinking anything impractical.

You two also build a weirdly oiled routine. You two eat breakfast together, Jeonghan wakes up early and when he is just arriving for his morning run you are already scrabbling eggs. When Jeonghan is ready for work you are ready for your own run. When Jeonghan arrives from work you still have one hour to go, so in the end he is the one to always cook dinner. After you two share the dishes and eat something sweet as the dessert the kitchen counter - previously used as a dinner table, now acts an officer table.

While Jeonghan looks up some designer classes, you search manufacturers. When he draws a cute rabbit girl that he named Ttoram, you try to understand how a business works, how you file taxes for it? Sometimes Jeonghan does the dirty work himself after he finishes a new version so you get your pink glittery pen and write in post-it what you think about the new product; ‘what is this material arrow-drawing pointing to a specific part of a squish toy’, ‘her head seems big are you sure she won't flop head first in someone’s bed?’, ‘are you sure? I think lamps are quite expensive.

The house gets filled with new art supplies, sometimes Jeonghan orders a bunch of them online, and sometimes you are the one that brings back a single pen or a new colored pencil that you pick up in arts stories every time you go to a meeting. The house is filled with paper and drawings, your favorite ones is always the first drafts - the ones that Jeonghan does on the non-quality paper, the ones that he does on pieces of paper, the ones that look less refined and to you are filled with children-like joy.

Another curious thing is how somehow you and Jeonghan seemed very addicted to post-it. Besides the practical use in the drawing drafts because Jeonghan was an old soul who couldn’t do his work on an Ipad like a normal human being in this day and age, you also used to communicate - ‘please buy eggs!’ you wrote and left on the kitchen door, ‘already set a reminder on my phone so i don’t forget to stop at the market!’ jeonghan replied. “Didn’t see u before I left :( don’t forget to take breaks” he wrote, somehow the post-it ended up in your office, and you glued it on the computer screen beside one green post-it with a frog with a raincoat on.

Every time the fridge was out of space for new ones you took them off one by one, with a smile on your face, and kept them in a box, safely stored. You always noticed one or two missing but you always thought the wind knocked them out and Jeonghan, that traitor, threw them in the garbage. In short, everything stayed the same with a daily dose of domestic life. The problem was - that it didn’t stay the same for very long.

And as hard as it was to admit, it was your fault.

There was no way around it.

It weirdly began every time you saw Jeonghan around the stove. The fact that Jeonghan was beautiful-handsome-pretty was not news to you. You, and every human being that laid eyes on him, always reached the point where you acknowledged how pretty Jeonghan was. In college it was a fucking nightmare, guys and girls banging on his dorm room when you two were watching a movie just because they thought Jeonghan was alone - the fact that he didn’t have a roommate because he bribed someone (one of the most Jeonghan acts that you ever witnessed, but that was beside the point - really) only added to the fact that 87% of his course thought he was down to bang anytime. The truth was that you always knew that Jeonghan was someone objectively good-looking, but there was a catch, even though Jeonghan was beautiful you didn’t really feel attracted to him and he knew that. Countless times you told him he was too pretty for his own good along with the lines that he wasn’t your type, ‘what the fuck that supposed to mean’ he answered the first time you said that, back in high school. With time it turned out to be your standard answer to every girl that was attracted to him and wanted a shot with him but somehow thought he was your boyfriend.

You know that Jeonghan is good-looking, and you know that for fucking years so why are you going a little insane every time you get in the kitchen and the man is cutting some onions? Truly it happens in the weirdest hours, out of nowhere, your brain reminds you how hot Jeonghan is - and that is even scarier because you knew that the man was handsome, but hot? That’s a new development. Once he arrived from his morning run, his hair a little damp, sweat dripping down his neck, and only with a thigh shirt because he already removed his go-to wind-breaker and you almost collapsed on the kitchen floor. That alone was mind-blowing.

The horrors begin when you just couldn’t deal with his touch without your mind going to the fucking gutter. When he touched your hips to make your move because he wanted to open a drawer, or when he dropped down on the sofa without leaving space between your bodies, his hand tapping your thigh. Out of nowhere, you are combusting because his hand feels hot against your skin, goosebumps appearing across your skin Jeonghan asks you if you are cold. And the fact that Jeonghan is touching you isn't necessarily super weird, he always did that, but somehow you feel that his touches changed and you can't quite pinpoint how besides the fact that you are reacting differently.

It doesn't really help your case that Jeonghan develops a weird habit of wrapping his arm around your neck. It happens everywhere, even in public and every time you can feel yourself grow a little hotter. You were supposed to pay attention to Minghao’s new paintings, a designer slash illustrator slash painter whom you worked with for a few book covers, and somehow in the middle of the opening of his new exposition, you can’t even think about the impasto on his oil paintings because Jeonghan hands feels heavy on your neck, his fingers touching the lateral of it almost rubbing. Every time you take a step to try to see the paintings up close Jeonghan doesn’t let you leave his hold, his body close enough to be pressed against your back, half of your back feeling hot because of his presence, half of it feeling cold because of his absence.

“Hao!” You say when you finally see the man of the hour, black hair on black coats, his hands behind his back looking around all the people that came just to appreciate his work.

“Hey,” He says opening his arms for you.

“Congratulations,” you say feeling the arms of Minghao around your back, your body though prefer to pay attention to the weight of Jeonghan’s eyes on you, “everything is mind blowing,” you say to the man - his hands still on your body, yours on his shoulder, until you hear Jeonghan clearing his throat in order to get you to notice his existence, and you almost laugh, “Hao this is Jeonghan, Jeonghan this is Minghao.”

“Great job man,” Jeonghan says in a weird tone, giving Minghao two little pats on the back and taking a step by your side, his hand on your waist.

“Thank you,” Minghao says politely, like he always does, “It is a pleasure to meet you, you are in the book industry too?” Minghao asks with his hands in his pocket,

“No,” Jeonghan almost scoffs, him? and books? God forbid, “I work with investment these type of things,”

“Oh, so you are not in the art business then,” Minghao acknowledges and you know his interest peaked even though you don't know why, maybe because you know Jeonghan so well you don't have much to unfold, while Minghao just seems weirded out by the fact that you have a Wall Street dude by your side.

“Oh Hao you always flatter me when you include me in the art business,” you say jokingly, reminiscing one of the many conversations you had with Minghao over a bottle of wine.

“I told you," a sly smile across his face, "books are a matter of passion.”

“You did,” you say somewhat reminiscing of the talk you two had back then. It was after calling him up for his second cover, after a meeting where he made you go through the book's motifs and ideas so he could have a feeling of what he should focus on.

“You should come to the after party,” Minghao says, “we could catch up,”

“Yeah I don’t think we can,” Jeonghan says while he checks his watch, he knows the question wasn't directed to him, he isn't stupid and he has two eyes, but he also is a stubborn motherfucker and now he just wants to ruin Minghao's night, and he is not about to Banksy this place up with shredded art pieces - because he is afraid his bank account can't take the lawsuit. “I have a work meeting tomorrow morning” Jeonghan reminds you, his fingers still on your waist.

“Still,” Minghao says, looking puzzled by you two, “you can stay right?”

“I’m afraid I can’t,” you say sorry “Han is driving us back so-”

“Is your phone number still the same?” Minghao asks without dropping a beat, and Jeonghan can give him that, he doesn't know Minghao but the guy just doesn't quit - he knows a stubborn guy when he sees one.

“Yeah, I didn’t change, but if you need you can e-mail me and-” You say before someone calls Minghao, it is his opening after all, a guy in the suit makes a gesture to him when the three of you look to see who was the owner of the voice.

“Sorry, I have to go, but I will call you," He says before giving you a kiss on the cheeks and walking to the guy who just called him.

Jeonghan snorts, really, what was that? He shouldn't find it so funny but it is. He takes a step back, his hands leaving you, while he looks at the painting. You know he is just pretending to analyze everything.

“What?” You ask him - missing his hand on your waist, on your neck, missing his presence around you.

“Nothing,” he says shaking his head, he is biting back a smile - laughter really, and you want to know what it is so funny, you are curious about what is going on in his head.

“It can’t be nothing come on,” you press on, your hand on his shoulder in a way to get some sort of touch from him, to regain some sort of proximity.

“Just-” Jeonghan stops, in front of another painting, his hand going back to your waist, and at the same time you think you can finally breathe again, your breath feels trapped in your throat, making you swallow on nothing, “You didn’t tell me it was an opening night to your ex-fling," he says. Eyes almost tinkling under the light and you know where this is going.

“Hao isn’t my ex fling what are you talking about?” You pretend, trying to get out of this situation because you know somehow Jeonghan will pry on, and he knows how to push your buttons enough just so you can spill everything he wants to know.

“Not fling then," Jeonghan says, hand still on your waist when he starts walking around the gallery with you by his side, until another painting that he really doesn't really care about, "an one night stand.”

“He is a friend," almost rolling your eyes at him, "I told you, I know him because of work,”

“So you are telling me you guys didn’t fuck?” And even though his words my seem harsh his tone is still light - he was truly a jerk but why are you smiling at him?

“Jeonghan, what the fuck?” You yelped, making Jeonghan's sly smile appear again.

“What?” He asks eyes still on you when you pretend to pay attention to the orange painting in front of you.

“Keep your voice low,” you mouthed, “we didn’t fuck,” you tell him again, and it was the truth, but somehow Jeonghan knew how to read between your words.

“Well,” he began, still looking at you even when he tilted his head to the side, a sly smile still on his face like he could see through you like you couldn't keep anything under wraps, and you could feel the goosebumps on the nape of your neck, your whole body tingling, “I am pretty sure it wasn’t for lacking trying on his part.”

“It would be too messy,” you finally blurt it out.

“Ah of course," Jeonghan laughs again and it almost sounds bitter to you, "so he did try, it was after or before saying the book and passion line?”

“After,” you say, your time to laugh, even though you feel the heat on your skin, a crazy addition to new feels because you are not one to actually feel shy around Jeonghan.

“And you laid him down too gently,” he acknowledges, eyes moving through the room again. You follow his gaze, seeing Minghao watching the both of you across the room, you just greet him with a smile.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You ask him, pressing your body on his sides until his arms are back on you.

“Well," Jeonghan breathes, his eyes still rummaging around the room, "I know you can break a guy's heart but apparently you lost your touch with that one because he is still down to fuck.”

“Jeonghan!” You gasped, “No he isn’t you are seeing things like you always do.” You tell him, Jeonghan had this weird superpower that he tuned in college - he could tell a guy was somehow interested in you from miles away, the first few times you actually made a bet on it; fifteen dollars, to pay him for a meal, to go with him to a frat party that his friend Soonyoung was hosting. After the fifth time, you just learned that was better to trust his judgment on it.

“Oh yeah, it truly takes a mind reader to see a guy ogling you across the room and telling you to show up at the after party even tho you have a guy on your arm," Jeonghan almost scoffs, then he leans down, his mouth close to your ear, "truly, his intention was indeed to talk about the impasto or the lighting or the shadow of his hard-on,”

“Jeonghan” you accuse again slapping his arm playfully, laughing at his antics “If I trusted you my ego would be in the clouds because every walking human being apparently wants to fuck me according to you.”

“Not everyone but a great part of it, sure." He deadpans.

“Sure, apparently you are the only exception who else?”

“I’m not,” Jeonghan deadpans again, just shrugging. Because it is not actually something he tried to hide over the years, it is nothing something that he is ashamed of either. And he is pretty sure it is something you already know since college so he doesn't have to lie about it. Jeonghan might be a coward, but he isn't really a liar.

“What?”

“I tried to get in your pants my whole high school years," He says, his eyes still on the painting, or everything that catches his attention, his eyes are everywhere really but on you. "I just gave up after the few first months of college”

“What the hell?” You try again. Everything feels kind of abnormal in your head. The way that Jeonghan says those words - like he is saying that you two should buy soap the next time you both go do groceries, it freaks you out. How can he be so normal about all of that?

And how could you be so clueless? Everything shifts in your brain - like the earth just changed its axes. He never told you anything closer to this, you are sure of it. You never suspected that Jeonghan liked you back then, or scratch that, that he tried to get in your pants. It seems something so unreal that you are having a hard time wrapping your mind around it - around the idea of a teenager and younger Jeonghan wanting something from you that you never really saw happening.

“What the hell what?” Jeonghan stopped dead on his track, finally looking at you, “You didn’t know that?”

“Of course not,” you say exasperated.

“Oh, I thought you were laying me down gently too,” he added, in the most neutral tone possible, making your head spin a little.

“No, I had no idea,” and it is true. You remember everyone from college who thought you and Jeonghan were a couple back then, everyone who found it weird when you two answered that you were just friends. You remember Seokmin, and you think about Seungcheol's words in Vegas and everything is hazed, a little out of focus. “Why did you give up tho?” You ask him.

“I just,” he says still looking forward and avoiding your eyes like the plague, “I mean, besides the fact that you got into he is not my type phase I would never kiss that man, the fact that I tried for four years and it didn’t happen led me to believe that never would, so...”

“I needed to make clear to every girl that was falling and tripping over you that I was not your girlfriend, they were pretty sure we were high school sweethearts back then”

“I think everyone we know somehow ends up thinking we are in a relationship,” he says, “I mean, clearly not goth impasto guy because that would be crazy, hitting on a woman with her husband on her side but”

“You need to pick up your husband's game,” you say kidding, while walking around the gallery with him, “I was indeed mistaken to be a single woman today.”

“I should have bought a bigger ring,” Jeonghan groaned, making you laugh, weirdly you still have the big ring on your finger.

“That’s not the answer,” you groaned because the man truly had this weird obsession with this ring and big rocks. You could tell him over and over again how you didn’t care about the ring or the rocks and he still found a way to make sure you were wearing the ring.

“And what is? If I try to be more territorial within the touch department we would be in jail for public indecency,” Jeonghan says low on your ear, his voice mischievously, while his hand presses on your hips, “Should we just go to jail?” Jeonghan asks, his hands trying to go lower heading towards your butt.

“Jeonghan, don’t test me,” you say seriously, your hand holding his and bringing up on your body. Why the fuck didn’t Jeonghan behave like a proper human being? Why your heart is racing against your ribcage? Why you are enjoying this whole thing?

The whole night you can feel Jeonghan’s hand on you in some way, or on your lower back, your neck, fingers on your shoulder, making his presence known somehow. And every time you think you are starting to understand what happened - what Jeonghan said, what that meant, he touches you again and everything gets a bit hazed, taking you to the start again. Should you read into everything that he said to you? Would you be able to deal with it?

Those questions are still going around your brain in the car back home. Home, that alone was something that didn't make sense either. The air in the car is so thick that you think you can't breathe, the fact that Jeonghan's hand is splayed against your thigh doesn't help with the issue. The curiosity gets the best of you - you want to know all the unsaid things, you want to get under his skin and discover everything Jeonghan even wanted.

He doesn't move his hand, he doesn't stroke your skin, his hand is just there. Again, a reminder of some sort, and you almost laugh - silly of him to think that his presence could go unnoticed by you. Jeonghan has always been there on your mind, and lately even more. It makes your mouth go dry. The feeling is back on the pit of your stomach again. What if? You ask yourself, what would have happened if Jeonghan said those things back then? Would the present be different? Would that have washed away all the curiosity about Jeonghan?

Arriving home you go straight to the sofa and plop down in the middle seat, taking your time to take off your high heels, you don’t know why but you still buy pairs with ankle ties - the bane of your existence when it is three hours later and you have a thigh dress on, maybe that’s why you think you hate those types of event, even though you had a great time, saw a few friends and enjoyed the night with Jeonghan, you always ended up tired with a few blisters on your feet. You can hear Jeonghan’s footsteps around the house while you massage your feet and try to ease the tension.

You turn your body so you can stretch your legs on the sofa, the pain on your calves is killing you. You don’t even turn when you feel Jeonghan entering the room, his perfume and the sound of his slippers are enough to make his presence known. It was always like that? Did Jeonghan's presence always engulf you? Did it always make you unable to focus on anything else? Did it always make you question your own sanity? He sits down on the sofa, in the same direction as you, his legs around yours, his front pressed on your back and you hold yourself back because you almost whimper when you feel your body melting against his.

“You’re tense,” Jeonghan says his voice low, his hands pressing the knots on your shoulders.

“I am always tense and stressed out,” you say, and it is the truth. Jeonghan doesn’t need to know that for the last few weeks the fact that he is the number one reason. You almost rub yourself against him, feeling a little bit crazy and hot all over - oh no.

“Hm,” Jeonghan acknowledges. When his fingers close around your neck you almost jump on your seat, his thumbs traveling across the knots of your spine, and you are not strong enough to not whimper this time, “there’s a lot of things you could do to distress.”

“Like what? A guided meditation?” You joke, trying to get away with it, trying to downplay every reaction of your body.

“Fuck those apps,” he mutters under his breath, he is so close you can feel his breath against your nape.

“Yeah right there,” You say when his thumb presses down in a particular knock on your back.

“This one?” You just nod, don’t trust yourself enough to utter a word that doesn’t sound like a humiliated noise. Since when did you turn into a mess in Jeonghan’s hand? But you just accept your fate, feeling how soft your body feels against his. “Can I open this?” Jeonghan asks, his voice so low you barely hear, but he is so close to you that your ears catch his question.

And you still don’t trust yourself, so you nod again. Jeonghan drops the zipper of your dress and takes his time to gather your hair in his hands, and taking them out of his way, letting your locks rest on your shoulder. His fingertips trails the collar of your dress again, and you can feel the goosebumps across your skin and you know Jeonghan can see them as well.

You can feel the way that Jeonghan’s fingertips travel down your spine as he opens the zipper of your dress. And you close your arms around your chest, in order to maintain the dress in place because you can feel how loose the fabric feels against your body after the zip is down. But apparently, Jeonghan is not even close to satisfied because his fingers are tugging the straps of your dress down your arms.

Jeonghan’s fingertips are still on your skin, stroking your arms when you feel his lips against your shoulder. Before you can think about anything your own body reacts before you, giving space so Jeonghan can continue kissing the column of your neck. Everything feels a little surreal, a blur, you can't quite grasp-

Then, your cellphone starts to ring bringing you back to reality.

“Don’t pick up,” Jeonghan tells you, almost like a whisper against your ear, his hands still around your waist - but then your phone rings again and again and reality comes crashing again and again.

And you want to say that you are ok with almost being undressed on Jeonghan’s lap, that it is ok the way his thighs cage you, that it is ok how his hands feel hot against your body and how his lips feel against your neck. But your phone rings again and it must be important so you stretch yourself and try to find your phone inside your bag by feel. When you finally can reach the phone dies, and you can feel Jeonghan’s smile across your skin - like he just won. But before you can drop the phone you feel it ringing again, and when you pick up the big font appears on the screen ‘seungcheol is the best’. You can feel Jeonghan’s hand freeze against your body, the way he just goes rigid.

“Don’t pick up,” He says again but now something is different - his voice is not low.

“It must be something important,” you reasoned, because it is true. You have been trying to get a hold of Seungcheol since before leaving Vegas and yet the man didn't answer you once.

“Just-” Jeonghan tries, and you can feel his squeezing your shoulders again, almost in a silent plea.

“I haven’t talked to him since Vegas, it must be something important,” You say, your own hands going to his in an effort to show him that you understand what he is trying to say.

“Are you truly doing this right now?” Jeonghan asks and when you don't answer him he already knows.

You look at him but Jeonghan just gets up and off the sofa and leaves the room, in the end, you choose to just pick up your phone and answer it with a low “Hey cheol,” so low that Seungcheol asks if you were sleeping.

Seungcheol tells you he wants to meet, to talk about things. And you say yes because why not? You pick yourself up and close your dress. Before going to your room you stop at Jeonghan's door and before you lose all the courage that you have in your body you knock on the door, nothing, and you try again just to hear the sound of the shower across the room when you glue your ear against the door.

When you lie on your bed you don't really can close your eyes. You feel restless, your mind wavering, and you can't stop thinking about Jeonghan.

What would that mean?

If you took that leap would Jeonghan be there if everything fell apart? A shiver runs down your spine because it is the first that the answer would be a no. You ask yourself why now. What made Jeonghan change?

And you can't even look back anymore - you can't even think about your friendship with Jeonghan without it being tinted, his words echoing in your brain, "I just gave up". You play the whole conversation back in your head, almost like an old VHS tape - rewinding and pressing play, trying to see everything in another angle, rewinding, asking yourself what that meant, rewinding, thinking back, rewinding and pressing play - unfolding all the touches, and the times Jeonghan's hand lingered on your body.

You rewind until the sleep gets the best of you when it is already bright outside.

You wake up to the sound of your phone, Seungcheol calling you because he will run a little late, of course, you say while he just laughs because it is so clear that you were sleeping. When you run down the stairs, almost falling on it because your brain isn't functioning yet, you don't find Jeonghan anywhere. When you look at the fridge and there are no new notes, your heart breaks a little.

The coffee that Seungcheol chooses is pretty, and not very crowded, and even though Seungcheol is late is not a big deal, you use the time to go over a few manuscripts and spreadsheets with a cup of coffee on your side. Or at least you try to, but the truth is that you send Jeonghan a few messages and every time your phone pings you need to check if he is the one answering you - it isn't.

When Seungcheol arrives, you see him first, still from afar, his hair is shorter now. You almost laugh because that is definitely not a Seungcheol's choice, nor a haircut. His hair screamed his fiancée's name.

"Hey stranger," he says sitting across from you.

"Hey yourself," you greet him back, almost laughing at how awkward this whole thing is. Seungcheol and you walking around eggshells. Neither you nor Seungcheol wants to start talking about the whole elephant in the room - Yoon Jeonghan.

You ask him about the wedding preparation, it is going nice he says, he was late because he needed one last fit on his suit. His mother nagged over and over about how he shouldn't wear a navy blue suit, his future wife nagged about how it couldn't be black because the whole vibe of the afternoon wedding was different from a night wedding.

"I'm just happy that you guys worked everything out," Seungcheol says after a while, sipping on his coffee.

"Cheol," You try your heart already tugging on your inside.

"No really," he smiles at you, the way he always does - with a fondness you can't quite handle, like after all those years he still sees you like the kid you once were. Someone who didn't really have hold of her life and in a way, after all those years you feel like that again. "I did a lot of thinking," Seungcheol chuckles, "I think that I always have been envious of Jeonghan in a way," he breathes loudly, almost trying to gather up courage, "here I was, with my wedding date set up and still having doubts about how I feel and if I should go on with it." Seungcheol scratches her head almost like he is ashamed to tell you the truth, "And there is my friend, right? I think that the thing I always admired about Jeonghan was how consistent he was, you know me, in that way, we are alike right? We see shine things and we run towards them, a new project, a thing we like, don't even say anything about the golf gear I swear to god," he says abruptly making you laugh, and it was true in that sense you and Seungcheol were very much the same. "But Jeonghan is consistent, that man's mind is a fucking rock," Seungcheol says like a jab and you can understand why, "and yet he is more sure about you than I am about my fiancée really. And he has been sure for years, I still don't know what made him make a move-, he didn't talk to me prior to that, but I am truly happy that you guys figured it out, it took you long enough."

"I don't even know what to say," you breathe, looking at Seungcheol. You can't blurt out the words - physically unable to tell him. You think about what you should say, you should tell him -'we are not together', 'we didn't figure it out'. You want to tell the truth, you want to come clean, but you just can't. "But yeah, he has always been there for me" you laugh a little soulless. It is not a lie either, but it is not the whole truth, Yoon Jeonghan has always been there for you, but now all the other pieces of the puzzle are coming together. "I think the only thing that hurt him was you going on and on about his commitment issues or whatever.

"It's-" Seungcheol breathes, "it wasn't like that. I mean, sure, he can't commit to anyone who isn't you," he shrugs, "I think it was back when you were going out with that lit kid right? god" Seungcheol laughs, shaking his head like he just found a memory in his treasure box, "Jeonghan was so jealous back then," Seungcheol continues, reminiscing, "he would get furious every time that guy would give you a letter, a poem, anything really. I don't know how you didn't catch up on how much he hated that guy's gut if he dissed the poor kid."

"I just thought-" you stop to think about it, "I don't even know what I was thinking back then, but I never once thought it was because of jealousy, he was dating like 3 girls at the same time back then," you tell, felling the bittersweet taste on your mouth.

"Well," Seungcheol takes another sip, "you know Yoon Jeonghan, when he doesn't get what he wants he tends to fuck everything up and push himself to do shit just out of spite. His high school crush and love of his life found her first boyfriend, how do you think he would handle that? What he could do about that? Try to write poems better than Mark? He tried to believe they were all shitty, trying to forget you was the last thing he could do for himself, even that didn't actually work."

And you feel like you are about to go into overdrive.

It is one of your flaws really, you were never one who would react quickly - your brain always trying to assess and digest everything before being able to take a leap. The problem was that you needed to unpack more than ten years, to go through every file of your life with Jeonghan and try to find a new meaning, trying to find a clue, in search of something you don't know yet, but that could make you understand, or realize.

You spend the whole day feeling a weird taste in your mouth.

The thing is, you can't quite pinpoint what are you feeling, you can't really name it. It somehow resembles feeling betrayed, you think, that you have a cheating boyfriend and everyone knows his secret but nobody has the courage to tell you, and when you actually find out you are the last one to know.

You take your time walking around town and even figure out the longest route to Jeonghan's house.

Even that sounded weird rolling off your tongue.

You try again - picking random memories to try to see if you can find a hiding meaning somewhere, a clue, evidence of Jeonghan's feelings. A crush you could understand, something small like an affection with an expiration date you could understand. You could understand the curiosity that grew in the past month.

But Seungcheol's words didn't point to that, Seungcheol's words were actually pointing in the opposite direction of that.

And if you were being honest with yourself, that made you afraid.

“I talked with Seungcheol,” you blurt out when Jeonghan finally arrives.

“Yeah, we are not going there,” Jeonghan says seriously, without looking at you - avoiding you at every cost. It is a tell, a clue that he doesn't want to talk about it. You don't want either, if you could you would never go there again, but you need to, because living things like they are right now, messy and all over the place aren't working.

“Jeonghan,” you groan, “we need to talk about everything that happened in Vegas, his wedding is in a few weeks."

“I think you were there when he said I wasn't invited so I am not really following right now," Jeonghan says his voice stuffy because his head is inside the fridge in search of something, maybe he is just trying to not look at you.

"He told me you are not answering his calls," You tell him, and before Jeonghan says anything he just scoffs and closes the fridge door without taking anything out. He doesn't actually move, but he doesn't look at you either, his head is hanging off his shoulders, and you know Jeonghan so well that you know that nothing will make him move. You know you are not going to win, but yet you press it on, because you are tired of things being left unsaid, of Jeonghan bottling everything out and things ending up being your fault.

"Why are you being so fucking stubborn about this?" You ask watching Jeonghan just shake his head, "he is your best friend."

“Yeah like Seungcheol’s is flawless,” he bites back.

“Jeonghan this is not the point right now-" You start before he cuts you off.

“It is never the point right?” He asks you, finally looking at you, still holding his weight on the counter, "Is never the point, is never the right time, is never them it is always me fucking it up because it is Jeonghan he is not serious, he can take it, you guys can go on and on and god forbid if someone doesn't wanna take more bullshit from you."

“Come one don’t get angry with me,” you plead.

“Of course, right, I can't even get angry," Jeonghan says before he heads to walk out of the kitchen.

"Jeonghan," You almost beg making him stop and look at you, "we really need to talk about everything."

"Talk about everything or for you to be Seungcheol's spokesperson?" He says, and when you don't answer he completes, "Then no, we are not talking”

“Of course, because that will solve everything," you say almost groaning, "he is your best friend for god's sake, he still thinks we are in a somewhat relationship, he wants to talk to you, he feels guilty for being an asshole. He is sorry." You try almost stomping your feet at every word.

"Well, good for him," Jeonghan says like words don't have enough weight to make him care.

"Come on Jeonghan I'm trying here," you whine.

"Trying to do what exactly?" He asks, "Did you ever think about what actually happened since Vegas?" He says finally looking at you, and you feel even worse. He almost laughs when you don't answer. "Okay, I did, I spent every single second thinking about it and I am really fucking tired of thinking about it. I tried to put it through a different lens, I tried to put myself in other people's shoes, I tried to be reasonable and understand everyone, look I really did, and I did a great job understanding that you forgot the whole damn thing, of course, you can forget me telling you that I am head over hills for you sure, you can forget that you were the one who kissed me back then sure, of course it happens, I mean," Jeonghan scoffs, "I understand for years what is a few more months right?"

"Jeonghan-"

"No, let me finish this because somehow it will be my fault again so let me make everything clear," he says - back again looking at every corner around the kitchen but not laying an eye on you; "Seungcheol knows, he always knew about everything, he knows how many girlfriends gave me fucking ultimatum and I always choose you. He knows how many women broke up with me because they knew I was in love with you, sure, everyone in my fucking life knew but you - I understand that too sure," he stops, breathing loudly and you feel the lump around your throat way to thigh, "and he fucking knows that if I could I would've got over this sooner, so yeah, maybe I was too fucking sensitive when my friend act like I was a fucking coward who has commitment issues and would never do anything about it sure, it's my fault great, I can be responsible for that. I can take that sure, I can take Seungcheol, what I can't take is you playing dumb after last night, that I can't take it, and to be fair I don't want to, I don't have to, and you don't have a lot of excuses this time, I guess you remember right? And I think that time I made myself pretty clear so this time you must know right?"

You have been building your life around Jeonghan's for years. In a way, Jeonghan's life and yours were beautifully intricate, to the point that you weren't quite sure where one ended and one began. You think about how would your life be without Jeonghan's presence, and how would your future look like. And that scared the shit out of you.

"And that took you how many years Jeonghan?"

"Don't do that," he says and his voice feels almost small.

"Sure, I am sorry if I'm being fucking selfish right now, but you had your own time to think about everything, right? You have had years to come to your own terms? I'm freaking out here, do you think that's easy for me? Do you think it is easy to think about the aftermath if this goes wrong Jeonghan? Sure I understand that maybe that is your tipping point great, I understand that, but you are my friend and I don't fucking know how we will go on if we fuck everything up," you laugh, "I think we already passed that apparently."

"We didn't fuck it up," Jeonghan says, "Why can't you trust me for once?"

"I do," You say, and it is the truth, you trust Jeonghan with your life, "I do, I am just scared. You took your time to figure everything out, but every time I look back now I think about everything you didn't tell me,"

"I told you everything," Jeonghan says and you can almost feel his desperation, "I was sincere about everything,"

"Now you are just telling lies," you say laughing dryly.

"Sure I didn't tell you everything, but the things I haven't told you are small in comparison."

"The fact that you like me isn't small Jeonghan," you say, and it finally downs on you, that this - his feelings are a huge thing that you can't quite hide.

"What I am trying to say is-" Jeonghan says, finally taking steps and getting closer to you, "I will not go anywhere," you hear him - even though it feels like he is whispering, "even if we fuck up, even if this doesn't work out, I will not go anywhere, if that's what you are afraid of then you have nothing to be afraid. I won't go anywhere because that would kill me more than would hurt you, and even though everyone around me thinks I am a masochist I would prefer not to die."

"I would rather not hurt you," you say and you feel like you could cry, "I am sorry if I ever did."

"You did," Jeonghan says, taking your hand, and holding it firmly like that act alone can show you how serious he is, "but nothing I couldn't take, even If you hurt me again, I can take it, I will take it."

Even if both of you don't want to, things stay a little weird between the two of you for some time. Like both of you are back to being so conscious of each other presence that it is just weird to jump right back at it, or, actually, take a step in another direction. But things fall back into place - more because of Jeonghan’s attitude than yours. He is the one that calls you for dinner, and he is the one that hugs you when you enter the kitchen.

He is the one that is trying to make things not weird. And you love him for it, you just love him, heatedly.

And the thing is, you always loved Jeonghan, but somehow, this kind of love and appreciation feels new and it is so scary, it makes you realize how everything is so fragile. But, at the same time - it makes you curious, it makes you wonder, it makes you act first just to see Jeonghan’s reaction.

Like when Jeonghan’s is whining about something and how he wants to quit his work so bad and you just hug him - almost melting against his back, placing your chin against his should and you can see Jeonghan freeze for a few seconds before he starts to pay attention on the food again.

Or when you start to watch a movie together and Jeonghan just melts in your lap, falling asleep while your hand goes through his hair. The next day when you whine about it he sweats to God he didn't sleep, he was paying attention to the movie, if you want to he can say the whole movie plot and all.

When the first Ttoram prototype arrives you are so excited that when you both place the little bunny on the dinner table, when she flops down - face diving because her head is too big - you are so happy for him that you just hold his face and place a quick kiss on his lips. Jeonghan looking at you wide-eyed. You almost start to laugh before you mutter:

“I told you, her head is too big,” you say trying to place Ttoram upright again.

“It is her charm, her brain is so big that she is dumb,” He says his voice weirdly fond, hands on your body pulling you into him.

“Yoon Jeonghan,” You stare at him - that weird mischievous smile on his lips, “what is that supposed to mean?”

“You should be honored,” Jeonghan says, holding your face almost making you yelp because his hands are so freaking cold, “You are my muse after all.”

And you almost curse him. But the thing is Jeonghan is cute, so will let it pass.

The thing is most of the time you are giggling and kicking your feet at everything Jeonghan does - that crush is so weird because you used to be stronger than that, now you are just falling in all of his antics, and boy doesn't he love it.

He just says the weirdest things out of nowhere just so he can hear your laugh. He holds you every time he has a chance, just pulling you close to hug you. But his favorite part of this new thing is how movie night now is just the two of you starting a movie to just act like a horny teenager.

Jeonghan is always the one who initiates it in a way. Sometimes is just caressing your arm before you start kissing him and licking against his mouth. Sometimes he feels bold enough and places his hand under your hoodie. The details always change but he always ends up with a hard-on and feeling like his younger self.

And it is happening again, his cock is hard, and he can barely hear the movie that is playing on the tv because you are kissing him and he can feel himself melting against the bed, like his whole body is going limp.

It is stronger than him, really. He wants to stay calm and collected but before he knows it he is already a whimpering mess, fingers digging in on your waist, his hips moving on their own, searching for some kind of pressure.

It is such a weird feeling, feeling so boneless and yet, feeling like he is a string - being pulled thigh enough he is about to snap at any minute.

When you break the kiss Jeonghan almost whines but before he can say anything you are already kissing his jaw so he just breathes loudly - accepting everything you want to give him.

“Can I suck you off?” You ask low on Jeonghan’s ears and he almost drop dead right there, like a fucking high schooler, like a teenager who just cum on his pant and drop dead when see a woman naked. And that would be fucking humiliating. He waited for so long he can't just burst a fucking nut in his own pants.

Jeonghan wants to answer you, he wants to say yes and maybe even mutter a please and thank you but somehow his brain is not even working properly, he is beyond dumb. But his dick is hard against his pants and he cannot even think properly - his brain is working overcapacity right now to try to take everything in.

So he does the only thing he can do in the moment - he pulls you into a kiss, and it is messy but Jeonghan doesn’t really care, focusing on the way you taste against his tongue. Jeonghan feels your cold hand against his stomach and he almost jumps at the spot, but you just whimper against his mouth when he does the same thing.

Jeonghan thinks the two of you are beyond niceties - you just told him you want his dick in your mouth, so he lets his desires win, while one of his hands is holding your waist under your shirt, the other one he uses to grope your ass. He squeezes your ass and at the same time, he tries to get your body even closer. You end up with your leg over him, across his hips, Jeonghan with his last functioning neuron takes the chance to shove his hand under your shorts too.

“Han,” you say when you come up for air, hand still splayed across Jeonghan’s body. “Come on,” you try again whining.

“Hm?” Jeonghan questions, his eyes almost closed and his head bent.

“You don’t want to?” You ask, voice low, taking the time that he uses to think about an answer to trail your lips across his neck, sucking at his skin, “I really want to but if you don't that's okay?”

“Hm?” Jeonghan mumbles - for a second he has no idea what are you talking about, his mind focused on how you feel against his hands, the weight of your body against him, how every curve of your body is pressed against his, how you smell and you taste.

“Suck you off,” you say again against his neck, almost petulantly like Jeonghan isn't paying attention, and he really isn't, but you shouldn't blame a man.

“Fuck,” he says almost whimpering.

Jeonghan was never like this - in his life nor in bed. He was never a mess, not to this point. Jeonghan always pretended to be somewhat collected, holding the strings of his life tight enough he could make his own choices, but it was never like that when the topic was you. So when the feeling pools on his belly, a reaction to how your fingers feel against his throat, taking matters into your hands when you grab Jeonghan's chin and maneuver his face in an angle so you can have access to more of his skin.

Jeonghan thinks he can die like this - almost dry-humping your leg. But apparently, you have other plans, your hand tugging at his joggers. Jeonghan's only reaction is to lift his hips, trying to help. It doesn't help much, but it is enough for you to shove your hands under his underwear, making Jeonghan shiver. When your hand finally finds his dick he almost melts, the tip of your things trying to map out everything before you apply pressure on it. He moans softly before closing his eyes.

He wants to be patient and wants to take whatever you give him, but the truth is he can't quite hold back anymore. His hands left your body so he can get hold of your face, kissing you. "Want to see you," he tells you, using all his strength to take one of the straps of your pajamas down. Kissing your shoulders, trying to map your collarbones with his mouth.

When Jeonghan tries to move the strap down your arm you don't budge, shaking your head telling him no, "don't want to stop touching you," and Jeonghan almost short circuit when your hand wraps around him and give his dick a few tugs.

"I know baby," Jeonghan coos, almost delirious out of his mind, his hand holds your wrist and takes out of his cock and the way that you just whine makes him even more desperate. His whole body is limp, almost melting. Jeonghan thinks he might die if he doesn't get naked, but he is too entertained with the view of your boobs in his face.

He knows there is an easier way to do this but fuck it, he is not in his right mind. Instead of taking out your flimsy excuse of a pajama Jeonghan just shoves It down, tugging at the end of the fabric while he kisses your chest. The way that you hold his head is so delicate that makes Jeonghan feel weirdly treasured even if he is completely debauched lapping at your skin. And Jeonghan takes his time, appreciating every inch of your skin

He could spend hours like this, he thinks - almost melting against you, kissing your chest lazily. He drags his tongue across your skin until he can reach your nipple, his hands come up your body until he can grab your boob so he can angle just right before his mouth is back to your body. Jeonghan thinks he can die like that, it would be a good way to go - your fucking tits on his face, your body pressed on his, his hard-on against your thigh, everything feels dizzy. When you shove your chest on Jeonghan's face, holding his face against you, he just takes it because he is so down and so horny that taking it is the only thing he can do.

"Hannie," you call and Jeonghan really just has enough strength to look up at you, without his mouth leaving your chest, "Just let me-" you try to say without much control of your own situation.

It is not like you are in your right mind either. Jeonghan's hands feels warm on your skin, and he holds you so tight that you think about the aftermath of his grip - you should make a mental note to check for marks after this, and that alone makes you tremble. You can only think about how Jeonghan's body feels against yours, how his mouth is still on you, and you want to cry because it is just so good but not enough. You feel you might cry. Or worse, die.

You press Jeonghan down until his back is pressed down on the mattress. And God he is so pretty, it makes you almost feel delirious.

When you sit down on Jeonghan's hips he feels like he is almost dying. Everyone he ever wanted felting very pale in comparison when he lay his eyes on you - hair already a mess, lips red from kissing him, flimsy shirt pooling at your waist. Your hands sneak under his shirt, and he almost laughs, damn he must be looking so dumb right now - feeling and behaving like a fucking virgin while his crush is on his lap, taking her time with him. You lift Jeonghan's shirt, dragging your hands underneath it, almost whining and frustrated when the shirt doesn't stay around his neck. Cute - he thinks, when you pout Jeonghan realizes he said that out loud.

"Just take it off," you whine again, tugging at his shirt.

Jeonghan just nods, holding your hips for leverage until he is sitting upright, holding the back of his shirt and taking it off in record time, before Jeonghan lies down again he feels your hand on his chin, holding him so you can kiss him again. Damn, he is lucky. But before he can think another thought you are pushing him back on the bad again, his hand on your hips.

Your hands travel on his body, caressing him - making him feel so close to losing his mind it is almost ridiculous. When Jeonghan's feels your fingers graze his neck he feels almost delirious, when your hand palms his chest and your digits press against his nipples it Is his time to whine, he almost feels like it is just too much, maybe he is closer than a step away from coming in his pants.

One of your hands is splayed against Jeonghan's stomach when the other one tugs the waistline of his pants, pulling the elastic band and letting it hit against Jeonghan's skin. You shuffle around his hips, sitting on his thighs now and Jeonghan is ready to complain when you tug on his pants again, this time actually getting the cloth to move and get it stopped by Jeonghan's hard-on.

"Baby," Jeonghan mumbles, "that's too much," he tries again, but apparently there is nothing he can say to make you stop - and in all honestly he doesn't want you to.

Jeonghan thinks he will die if he doesn’t get his dick free. Even though he doesn’t want to he takes the hand off your ass so he can take down his joggers, shoving his underwear down at the same time, his other hand still firm on your waist.

When your fingers close against Jeonghan’s shaft he almost sees stars. You give him a few experimental tugs. He feels so breathless, how is that even possible?

You almost scoff, looking at how even his dick is pretty - really, you should complain because it is so unfair. You press your finger on his slit, collecting the drop of precum, and the way that his dick twitch it makes your mouth water, but before you can even complete your thoughts Jeonghan’s hand is holding your face and bringing it down to another kiss.

If it was up to Jeonghan he would kiss you the whole night, but you had other ideas, using one hand to shove him until he is lying again when the other one is still on his dick. He is pretty sure he can feel your taste against your mouth but yet he feels parched. When you start to press kisses on his body, the only thing Jeonghan can do is take it.

Jeonghan thinks you want to wreck him. He feels you press your lips against his nipples, his hips buckling on its own, and you stroke his dick a little bit harder. Jeonghan can barely breathe, yet, without wasting a second you are doing it again - pressing your lips to his other nipple and licking it.

Before he can even wrap his mind around that you start to lick his belly and Jeonghan almost sees stars. He just feels everything, and apparently, your tongue dragging against his skin goes straight to his dick. Jeonghan doesn't know how, but he lifts himself up on his elbows, the view alone could make him cum - you still kissing him, lips on his hips, pressing Jeonghan's dick against his tummy, fingers rubbing his frenulum and he is just so sensitive that he groans before he can hold your hand making you stop.

"Too sensitive?" You ask and why the fuck do you sound so out of it when Jeonghan is being pulled and pushed around the edge?

"A little," Jeonghan answers breathlessly, his tongue dry against his mouth.

"Ok, noted," you say before doing something even worse - placing your lips on the same place before kissing the tip of his dick.

You wrap your lips around Jeonghan can't really control himself, he just pushes his hips slightly so you can take more of him, and god when you moan around him almost makes Jeonghan forget every trace of decency and good bed etiquette. But damn you just look so beautiful sucking his dick, one of your hands digging on his thigh and the other one still wrapped around his dick that it is physically impossible to not thrust his hips up.

"God," Jeonghan says and he sounds so defeated against his own ears, "fuck, you are so pretty," he tries again, looking at you and when he sees you looking up at him, eyes almost twinkling with the praise. And his mind almost snaps - oh, you felt that didn't you? The joy of discovering something every time Jeonghan's hips snapped. He gets it now. It is almost like a power trip. "So pretty, taking my cock," Jeonghan tries again and he almost can feel your moan against his dick before he can hear it.

Every word that Jeonghan mutters makes you take more of his dick into your mouth until he is hitting the back of your throat, god and how he can take that? Your lips around him, your tongue dancing around his dick, the hollowing of yours checks each time you suck him. He is delirious and out of his mind. He tries his best, he really does, but his hips have a mind of its own, and before he knows it he is thrusting up again making you gag around him.

Then your mouth leaves his dick and Jeonghan feels like he is about to collapse, everything just feels so much - the sound, the spit trail, the way your breath is irregular, fanning against his skin - and yet the intensity of feeling nothing makes him mind spin a little bit.

"Come here," Jeonghan mutters trying to catch his own breath. You crawl up his body and Jeonghan can only focus on how messy you look, lips glossy and pink, and he can see the faintest trail of spit on the corner of your lips, he presses his lips there before he drags his fingers on your lips, "I let you suck my cock, can I fuck you now?"

"Please?" You ask back and Jeonghan can feel his dick twitching.

"How do you want me?" Jeonghan says tugging at the bottom of your shorts and he almost laughs when you just shove everything down at once - and he could laugh really, at your desperation but first, he is way worse than you, second you are so pretty that he can't wrap his mind around the fact that everything he conjured up in his mind every time he thought about you when he was lazily stroking himself didn't do you justice.

"You can stay like that," you say, and before Jeonghan can mutter an answer you are already placing your knees on the sides of his hips, his hands automatically going to your waist, his mouth pressing against your collar bones.

One of your hands goes to Jeonghan's jaw, just holding slightly, while the other one wraps around Jeonghan's dick again - and he swears he would say something but his mind goes completely blank when you press your pussy on his dick. Your hips moving to make his cock disappear between your folds, making it drag against your clit, Jeonghan can feel how wet you are and god everything just feels so hot - he feels tight all over, like his muscles are contracting, even the ones he didn't know he had.

"Are you getting off like this?" Jeonghan questions and his only answer is a whine and your hips buckling against him, "Come on baby," Jeonghan tries again, hand now holding your hip, guiding your movements, "I can-" Jeonghan breathes, he doesn't want to say it but, "If you keep going like that, pussy so pretty against my cock, I will cum before I-"

"God," you groan against his shoulder, "can you really?"

"Yeah," Jeonghan almost laugh, his hand grabbing your ass. Of course, he can, he could've come already, but he is dragging this off, he is holding himself back. "Babe," Jeonghan calls you, mouth hot against your neck, "I could've come on your mouth, I'm so hard it is almost painful,"

"Can we-" You almost hiccup, "can we like that" you mumble again, "you can fuck me later," you say and Jeonghan almost sees white.

God, he could cum like that this wasn't even a question, the question was could you? The fact that you were over the edge like him was enough to drive him crazy.

Every time you drag your hips against him Jeonghan's let out a little moan, and he feels so wrecked that he just plants his lips on your neck, sucking at your skin. Jeonghan does not know if it is a reaction or is just because he is losing his mind but he can tell you are getting faster, the rhythm getting a little off, the way you breathe against him, everything just seems too much, and Jeonghan can't take it anymore.

The world stops spinning for a bit - everything just stays still.

Jeonghan is out of it until the sound of your breath brings him back. You are almost pouting. "Did you?" Jeonghan asks, himself breathless too.

"No," You whine and you feel so frustrated that Jeonghan pities you a little bit.

"It's okay," he says - because it is he will take care of it, it's not a problem.

But when Jeonghan looks down he almost cums again. It is so messy. Why there is so much cum? God, he blinks at the view - trying to take everything but mainly you, hovering on his lap.

"Han," You call and Jeonghan is brought back to reality.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he says, and it is not like he is in control anymore, his mind Is just gone, he just drops his hand - scooping his own cum and placing it own your pussy. You moan so loudly and Jeonghan can feel your desperation, pressing his digits more firmly against your clit, "Like that?" He questions and you can only nod your head, words falling. Jeonghan holds you close to him, your chest against his, your hand still going between your legs, his other hand holding your waits, "Fuck how can you be so hot," he starts going making you feel a light-headed, "I will eat you later okay?" Jeonghan says, "Don't worry, I will eat you out and I will let you fuck me, you just need to tell me what you need."

"Just," You hiccup, "Just like that."

Jeonghan listens to you, even though the position is not the best to his wrist and he could do so much better - but you just keep babbling on and on about how you are almost there, how he just needs to stay like that, how you are feeling so good that he listens to you, how could he not when you are almost coming undone against his fingers?

And then you bring Jeonghan's face up to a kiss, his mind was too focused on his fingers disappearing against your folds to catch on earlier, but you don't seem to mind when you lick against his mouth and finally cum. Jeonghan holds you against his body for a few seconds when he finally hears you groan.

"God I am so sticky," you complain and he finally laughs.

Jeonghan though, keeps his promise and he eats you out after that, and he fucks you too, and then, he just forgets he has his own room.

It is weird how much you two fit each other. And how seamlessly you two turn into boyfriend-girlfriend situations, or legally, husband-wife, but who cares about silly papers really?

Everything is normal really - Jeonghan keeps saying he need just a better Ttoram version before you two start promoting on social media. You two keep sharing dinners, and Jeonghan even makes a point about how the two of you need to go on a date. You bribe him, telling him he needs to call Cheol before the wedding - and he just shrugs and picks his phone up calling his best friend, you almost scream, it was that easy?

You two share everything, you don't know why but Jeonghan just chooses your bed to sleep in, you question him saying you want to sleep on his bed too - it just smells like you, is nice - he says before making a weird noise after face planting one of your pillows.

It comes to the point that you get weirded out when you wake up and he is not on your bed. When you pick yourself up and finally drag your body out of the bed - something weird happens, an unknown voice resonates in your house - okay not yours, Jeonghan's but...

You find Jeonghan in the kitchen, back facing you, sipping a cup of tea with another woman. A very gentle elderly lady, her hair is almost all white, and everything about her screams grandma. She sees you before you can say anything,

"Hi dear," even her voice is gentle.

"Han?" You ask when Jeonghan stares at you, eyes fondly taking up your sleepy self.

"Hey baby, come here," He says opening his arms, "come here Iris was talking about how she was visiting her third grandson can you believe that?"

You could, sure, everything about her screamed grandma in uppercase letters, but what was happening?

"Yes," the old lady answers, "where was I?" she claps before she picks back up again, "See like I was telling you, Aroon's mom is my youngest daughter, and her pregnancy hadn't been the easiest so that's why I couldn't bring the table back," she says and you neck almost snaps, looking at Jeonghan's, he is so proud of himself that you almost scream. "So I'm sorry dear, your husband told me how much it meant to you but I was out of town so-"

God, he looks so proud and so full of himself, he couldn't be happier right now. God, you are so deeply in love with him. You could marry him all over again.

[BONUS SCENE ONE - THE WEDDING}

“Are we doing this for real?” You ask and the world is kinda spinning a little bit, by your side, Jeonghan holds your hand. You both stare at this little chapel, the Elton John one because you said that you would prefer to be married with don't go breaking my heart, Tiny Dancer or even Berry and the Jets as a soundtrack than any of the Elvis’s songs and of course Jeonghan listened, he listened to everything you said. What a fucker, how could you not be in love with this guy? What? Wait-

“Of course, we are doing this, we made a bet,” Jeonghan says still staring at the chapel.

“Only because we made a bet,” you say looking at him. When Jeonghan turns his head to look at you something inside you sings a bit - like a doll with something in the inside broke and jiggling inside.

“Of course darling, only because we made a bet,” Jeonghan says, holding your hand firmly, he smiles at you, and out of nowhere he is running inside the building and you follow him around because why not?

It seemed like a fucking great idea, and you both did lose the bet, even though right now you can't really think straight - how does a bet work? Can both people lose a bet at the same time? You are not totally sure but you guess Jeonghan is right, it can happen.

[BONUS SCENE TWO - BIOGRAPHY]

When Jeonghan finally opens the hotel door you almost fall in the room, but before you fall face flat on the floor Jeonghan's hands save you from breaking your nose.

“Wow, what a gentlemanly husband I have,” You say, tapping his chest.

“Sure, sure, perfect husband material right here,” Jeonghan says pointing at himself the door still open.

“You are,” you gushed, hands on his shoulders searching for some kind of balance, using these high heels shows was so wrong, but you knew at least you would be pretty in your wedding pics, and in the end, that’s all that matters - the pictures for your own autobiography that you will make for your grandchildren. You always told Jeonghan that you would make one for him too, with every single thing he gave you as a safe keep and the collection of pictures you have of him in different times of his life. You have pictures of Jeonghan with his long hair, with his short hair, the time he died it was almost white because he thought it would be so so cool and ended up hating how it fucked up his scalp. You had the material, you had the story, and you could do his biography, the funny thing now it is that his grandchildren could be yours too.

“What are you laughing at?” Jeonghan says, kneeling at your feet and taking your shoes off, wow, a life-saver.

“I just thought about grandchildren,” you squealed in a high-pitched voice that you didn’t know you had until Jeonghan’s hand found your hips.

“Grandchildren?”He asks you softly.

“The biographies,” you say and Jeonghan nods, “I was thinking about how I always pictured us together when we were gray and old in a nursing home together all that jazz, but know that I thought about it, your family will be my family so the grandchild will be the same kids, I won’t do your biography for your grandchildren I will do your biography for my grandchildren as well that changes a lot of things,”

“Like what?” He asks amused

“I don’t know if I want to tell them about the time you were sure to have gonorrhea or something like that”

“I do think we can let this story die with us,”

“wait, now that I am thinking about it like we only have one family," You say, a pouting on your lips, and Jeonghan almost melts, "that means only one visit in the nursing home because like when our family as separate entities we would have two families so two visit yours and mine now that I think about it I think we should divorce

“We are not divorcing," Jeonghan says.

“We can annul It,” you try again.

“We won't do it,” Jeonghan says, shaking his head like you are talking nonsense.

“But two visits are better than one,” You say showing him your fingers and trying to make him understand that two are indeed better than one, boys like girls even sang about this, was Jeonghan dumb?

“I won't have a family if it isn't your family,” Jeonghan says plopping down on the bed.

“Of course you can have a family,” you are sure of it Jeonghan is amazing there is nothing stopping him.

“But I don't want to,” Jeonghan whines looking at you and you get it, you finally get it.

“Damn boy you are crazy about me,” you say laughing, laying on his side.

“Now you are catching up,” Jeonghan says while his arms close around you.

“Still think two is a bigger number”

[BONUS SCENE - SHOULD WE?]

Jeonghan, your husband of three years, is eating on the kitchen counter and you can almost hear the gears in his brain turning and twisting. Sometimes, you think that maybe, Jeonghan is like a toy that he built the week prior, if you pick him up and shake him around you can hear loose parts of him rattling inside of himself.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask while opening the fridge.

“Should we go to Vegas again?” He asks taking a bit of his breakfast.

“Vegas?” you say - your head peaking and your body stretched so you can face him while the fridge door is open.

“I was thinking we should renew our vows,” he says like he is thinking about buying lunch because he cannot bring himself to cook, “you know, I want you to actually remember our wedding.”

#Yoon Jeonghan fic #Yoon Jeonghan fanfic #Yoon Jeonghan imagines #Yoon Jeonghan smut #Jeonghan fic #Jeonghan fanfic #Jeonghan imagines #Jeonghan smut #Seventeen fanfic #Seventeen fic #Seventeen imagines #Seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #svt fic #svt fanfic #svt smut #svt imagines #t: writting #t: yoon jeonghan

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xxsabitoxx · 11 months

Text

Unfortunate

Hantengu Clones x AFAB! Reader

Warnings: this fic contains dub-con/non-con, anal sex, brainwashing, dumbification, gang banging, rough sex, bukkake,, cunnilingus, rough oral, hitting and marking, degrading, using the reader as nothing more than a toy, taunting.

A/N: this took me too damn long. Curse this month bro, I haven’t had an time at all to sit down and write. Regardless, it’s better late than never right? So here it is, the full length fic. Also ignore the way the paragraphs get progressively longer. It just happens as I write and it’s no use trying to cut them in half lmao

Word count: 7.1K

“A village by the north mountains.” you mumbled to yourself, walking through the empty streets that made up the barely there village. “Some shit this is…” you grumbled again, your findings had been less than pleasant upon your arrival. The village itself consisted of only a few homes, less than ten from what you could tell. The larger of the buildings was likely a combination of essentials for the few residents that reside here. Though you couldn’t be certain any of them were left.

You had arrived to a massacre without any bodies, something that would look like a gruesome bear attack to any passerby. Though, you expected such a scene given the fact that it had taken you three days to arrive here. “How was there no one closer…” you still couldn’t figure out why you had been sent. It was obvious from the start that you’d never make it in time, yet your crow screeched for hours on end about how you must hurry to the decrepit little village at the base of the north mountains. It sucked, to say the least.

“Anyone out there?” Your voice bounced off of the empty homes, splatters of dried blood clinging to their walls. The doors had been ripped off their hinges, windows shattered and the remains laid sparkling on the dirt. It was a lost cause, you knew that, yet for some reason you kept trudging forward. It was eerie, nothing but the moon above illuminating the world around you. The silence wasn’t helping the chill running up your spine, it was obvious that the sooner you got out of here the better.

“Last call! If anyone is out there, make yourself known!” You peaked into the second to last home, confirming no remains and no survivors. “This is a waste of time.” You groaned, picking up your pace as you began making your way down to the last home. From what you could tell, the windows had been broken but the door seemed to still be intact. Maybe they’d run away to a nearby town with a tall tale of a demon attack, treated for minor injuries and hysteria. Though it was likely wishful thinking.

It didn’t hit you until you were a few feet away from the door, blood running cold as you sensed a presence. Immediately your hand flew to the hilt of your sword, heart rate spiking as you moved to take a step forward. Something was preventing you from calling out again, the presence in that house felt wrong to you. You pulled at your blade, unsheathing it a fraction as you pushed your body forward. Just before reaching the home, the door opened itself. At least that’s what your initial thought was until you looked down.

Your mouth seemed to dry up, the scent of that demon was undoubtedly an upper rank. It seemed to be an old man, crawling on all fours out of the home with tears streaking his unsettling face. You couldn’t even make out what he was whining about as he pushed himself into the moonlight. It took you less than a second to collect yourself, diving forward with your blade drawn as you swung for his neck. When your flames subsided you realized you had missed, he was no longer in front of you either.

He was wailing loudly now, your head whipped around to the source. He was behind you, clinging to the corner of one of the houses with tears still sliding down his cheeks. There was no denying it now, his appearance was misleading, his speech was that of an upper rank and so was his scent. You moved forward again, swinging your blade to unleash another fire breathing attack. This time, your blade connected, pain shooting up your arm as it sliced clean through the demon’s neck and slammed into the side of the house.

“Dammit!” You flinched as you brought your sword back, it had only chipped a bit but it was still more than capable of protecting you. The rush of adrenaline that shot through you wasn’t because of the fact that you had beheaded an upper rank. No, it was quite the opposite really. Your entire body seemed to come to life as you watched the severed head grow itself a new body. All the while, the headless body had seemed to replace its missing head.

He… no, they were younger now, your eyes widening as they both straightened. One held an odd looking staff, eyes glowing red as he looked you over with a scowl. The one beside him was holding a fan, green eyes boring into yours as his tongue stuck out. You swore it had the word relaxed on it, yet you were equally as sure that your fear was making you hallucinate. Without hesitation, you dove at the one with green eyes, not processing that he was lifting his odd fan in your direction.

Before you could even lift your blade, you were sent flying backwards, body slamming into the house behind you. A scream of pain left you as you landed, body throbbing as you pushed yourself upwards despite your muscles screaming in protest. It took you a moment to realize your ears were ringing, the noise only beginning to subside as his laughter finally reached you. The one with green eyes had a smirk plastered to his face as his laughing died down. “Oh she’s a feisty one, huh Sekido?”

“She’s a nuisance.” The red eyed demon finally spoke, moving to lift his staff as you surged forward again. Part of you knew this was a useless battle, there was no way you could take an upper rank on your own and expect to walk out of it unscathed. If anything, it pissed you off that you’d likely die on a shitty mission like this. One that should have been avoided altogether really. For some reason, his staff never hit the ground, not bothering to avoid your assault as you sliced his head clean off again.

The green eyed demon began cackling again, the noise high pitched and maniacal as he watched his other half separate once more. You jumped back, the screeching laughter pushing you over the edge as you brought down another attack on the green eyed demon. His laughter didn’t stop, even as his head was removed from his body. Rather, he laughed just a bit harder. You flew back again, eyes watching in disbelief as the bodies split off again. Both bodies gained new heads, both heads gained new bodies.

You had fucked up, big time. “Such a stupid thing! You couldn’t figure out that we wanted you to do this?” The green eyed demon laughed again, watching as you looked between the three of them. Laughing just a bit harder as you realized only three of them stood before you. “I-but…” there was a fourth. You were certain of it… so where the hell did he go? “Karaku…you’re so loud…” the blue eyed demon whined, eyes locked on you as he referred to the green eyed demon. “Shut it, Aizetsu.”

The red eyed one spoke again, staff hovering just a bit off the ground as he scowled at you. “You’re probably wondering where the fourth one went, huh sugar?” The green eyed demon taunted you, completely torn, you couldn’t figure out where to look. If your eyes left the three of them they’d likely attack. If you didn’t try to figure out the location of the fourth, it was likely he’d kill you instead. “C’mon, little slayer… Show us what you got…” the blue eyed demon spoke, voice somber and eyes filled with sadness.

“Urogi, quit playing around.” The red eyed demon bellowed, another name, but your brain was going too fast to remember it. The flapping of wings pulled you from your daze, head whipping in the direction of the noise but it was too late. Two claws grabbed around your waist, the sudden thrust upward knocking your blade straight from your grasp. A scream of shock left you as you were torn straight off the ground, head flying upwards to see what had grabbed you. Somehow, it was the fourth demon.

He looked just as the other three did, the only differences being his eyes and his limbs. Golden eyes stared down at you, a familiar smirk on his lips. Instead of arms and legs, he had claws. His limbs resembled that of a bird or reptile, large wings expanding behind him. You jerked as he stopped, hovering in the air as he looked you over. It wasn’t until he raised his legs that you realized he was using them to grasp you opposed to his arms. “What a pathetic thing you are…” he laughed as he let you go.

You began to plummet to the ground, body and mind so disconnected from your reality that you couldn’t even muster a scream before he swooped down to grab you again. Now, you were facing him, eyes wide and chest heaving. “You humans are so easy to break… though I must say I’ve never seen the fighting spirit leave someone as quickly as it left you.” He admired your petrified face, slowly descending until he was in earshot of his other halves. “Yah know, Sekido? We shouldn’t kill her just yet…”

His eyes trailed over your body, a cruel grin covering his face as he spoke. “Why don’t we have some fun with her? It’s been years since I’ve gotten my fill of human…desire.” The implications had you feeling hot, panic ebbing up the back of your neck as you squirmed in his grasp. “Oh? There it is…” he dropped you a moment later. The fall wasn’t a big one but it still hurt when you hit the ground. The panic was mixing with dread as you realized what the situation was turning to. “Fun? Urogi why can’t we just eat her…” the blue eyed demon whined softly as he stared at you.

“Oi, Aizetsu don’t be such a prude…” the green eyed demon spoke, walking over to where you sat on the ground. He crouched before you, smiling in a way that made you want to run. “She’d certainly have a good time, don’t you think Sekido? You know we need your approval to do anything…” he turned to look at the red eyed demon, a soft thump behind you told you that the winged demon had landed. You met the red eyed demon’s gaze, swallowing thickly as you waited for him to decide your fate.

“There are rules…you know. We each get a turn, no hogging her.” You got the chills, listening intently to the demons conversing about having their way with you. “Listen here, sugar.” The green eyed demon grabbed your face, keeping your attention on him as he spoke. “We’re gonna have a hell of a time with you… satisfy us and maybe we’ll let you leave here with your life.” Behind you, the winged demon snickered, feet dragging on the ground as he too crouched behind you. “You’ll be able to satisfy the four of us with your body, right?”

You didn’t speak, tears burning your eyes as you stared at the green eyed demon gripping your cheeks. “C’mon, answer him, little slayer. It’s not polite to ignore.” The blue eyed demon had somehow closed the distance, crouching down beside you as well. Three out of the four demons surrounded you, the red eyed demon that seemed to be their leader of sorts was still standing by the house he crawled out of. You opened your mouth but nothing came out, you weren’t even sure how to respond.

“You’ll be able to satisfy us, right?” One set of claws gripped your shoulder, tugging you back a bit so you’d be forced to look up at him. You flinched as you did, the green eyed demon’s hand was still gripping your cheeks. “Y-yes…” broken and weak, though the look in his eyes told you that��s just what he wanted to hear. “Good…Oi, Sekido? When can we start?” The yellow eyed demon grinned up at his counterpart, watching him set his staff to the side and finally join you all in the middle of the dirt road. “Now. Karaku, undress her, I’ll let the three of you have free reign for now.”

You swallowed, a noise of surprise leaving you as a single claw ripped your top open from being. “He asked me, Urogi.” The green eyed demon, Karaku, scowled as he moved to rip your uniform pants off of you. “You’ll take years, Karaku… let me help.” Cold air reached your skin simultaneously, pants and top being torn from your body, no longer able to hide any of your skin. “Ah, how modest humans are wearing under garments. How lame.” You felt your face growing warm as the blue eyed demon took you in. “It’s quite useless, I mean really the garment is so thin…”

Your legs were forcefully spread, as if to prove the point of the blue eyed demon. “She smells good, doesn’t she?” Your pants had been discarded, so had your top, nothing but a thin chest binding and your underwear were left to shield you from their wandering hands. “Fear and…arousal?” The winged demon began to laugh, clawed hands coming down to grope your breasts. “She looks ready to cry and yet her body is clearly reacting to this situation.” The green eyed demon kept your legs spread wide, allowing the blue eyed demon to bend down and get a closer look.

“You wanna eat her, don’t you Aizetsu… that smell is so intoxicating…” you could barely pay attention, the rough treatment on your breasts was making your head spin. You hated that arousal was pooling in your gut, cunt throbbing with need as three pairs of eyes stared at you. “I do… you’ll let me go first, right?” His hands were on you now, six hands total touching your body. It was dizzying, “yeah sure, I know you’ll bitch if I don’t… Urogi, take off the chest covering, it’s not necessary.” The green eyed demon shifted out of the way, hands still keeping your thighs spread.

The blue eyed demon, Aizetsu, was tearing your underwear straight off. Perfectly timing it with the winged demon’s motions of slicing your chest covering off. Now, you were completely bare, breasts and cunt on full display for the demons before you. How utterly humiliating. Tears burned your eyes again, this time they broke through the barrier and dripped down your cheeks. “Aww, that needy? How fucking filthy…” your eyes squeezed shut, arms and legs thrashing in their grasp as they held you in place. The green-eyed demon laughed, accompanied by his winged counterpart. Their laughter creates an unbearable symphony.

“C’mon now, no need to fight back. We’re not completely heartless… you’ll enjoy yourself…” his grip tightened painfully, a cry leaving your lips as you thrashed harder. “Aizetsu, quit sitting there like an idiot… get to work.” He mumbled some sort of complaint as he got down on his stomach, the position was too much for you to handle. Your head turned away, limbs giving up their useless fight of escaping the demons’ grasp. Aizetsu moved closer, hands accompanying Karaku’s on your thighs. His breath was fanning over your cunt, uttering a quiet “Itadakimasu” before delving in. You squealed, body thrashing at the sensation of his tongue.

A loud noise slipped past your lips, vibrating your throat as the demon below you kitten licked your cunt. “C’mon now, enjoy it… you won’t find anyone else to give you head like Aizetsu will.” The green demon cooed, face close to yours as his blue eyed counterpart found his rhythm. You could no longer thrash, their grips tightened almost suffocatingly as the blue eyed demon’s lips suctioned to your clit. You could taste blood with how hard you were biting your lip, desperate to not let any noises out. The green eyed demon seemed to catch on, two fingers coming up to pinch your nose. “Ah ah, you’re going to tell us how good we do.”

You gasped for air a moment later, head tilting back into the winged demon’s shoulder as two fingers stretched you open. Aizetsu was lapping hungrily, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He was whining, the feeling sensing vibrations through your clit as his fingers squelched with each thrust in and out of your cunt. Your body betrayed you, seemingly becoming wetter with each passing second. “Damn, hear that Sekido? Aizetsu’s getting her all worked up.” The winged demon behind you cackled, the green eyed one was far too engulfed by the sight. You couldn’t stop the noises you were making, mine fully focused on the pleasure washing over you as he curled his fingers.

“F-fuck…” you choked, eyes shutting as he grazed a particular spot inside of you. “Oh? Do that again, Aizetsu.” Kakaru smirked, gaze shifting from your cunt and your face. Aizetsu whined loudly, sucking your clit harshly and curling his fingers the way he had a moment prior. You convulsed, hips jerking despite their grip on you. You felt it then, the familiar build up in your gut, he was going to make you come. You became more vocal, body giving in to the pleasure he was providing. You held no shame, mind clouded with the desire to reach your climax. Your thighs tensed, a jumble of words slipping past your lips. “Hmm? What was that?” The winged demon cooed in your ear, eyes just barely peeking over to where he was still gripping your breasts.

“…onna…gonna…” you mumbled it over and over as if it were a prayer. Your entire body seemed to be set in fire, the tingling sensations shooting up your spine and down to your toes causing them to curl. “Oh! You’re going to cum aren’t you? All over Aizetsu’s mouth right? I’m sure he’d love to feel your tight cunt squirm around his fingers… right Aizetsu?” The winged demon hugged you tighter, motioning for the green eyed demon to do something you couldn’t see. The demon between your legs only seemed to work harder, fingers moving quicker as he focused all of his attention on your throbbing clit. The green eyed demon keeping your legs apart began massaging your thighs, the sensation enough to push you over the edge as you cried out.

You wailed, body convulsing in pleasure as your orgasm crashed down around you. You couldn’t hear anything outside of the ringing, vision growing spotty as you tried to force air back in your lungs. You hadn’t even realzied the mess you created until the blue eyes demon pushed himself into a kneeling position, a wet patch seeping into the dirt below. You half expected the death grip the winged demon had on you to loosen, he wouldn’t of course. His grip was still tight, eyes shifting around to look at his counterparts… not that you could see it. “Oi, Aizetsu good job…” Karaku laughed, eyes landing on Sekido with a relaxed smile. “Aizetsu had his fun, who’s turn is next? You better say me.” The green eyed demon was doing nothing to hide his erection.

Your limbs felt like jelly, body going slack in the clawed grip of the demon behind you. “It’s your turn, Karaku. Throat fuck her.” Those three words snapped you back to reality, watching as the blue eyed demon was pushed roughly out of the way. “I thought you’d never grant me the fucking permission. You don’t have to tell me twice.” The blue eyed demon groaned as he was essentially tossed aside, whining loudly at the green eyed demon for being so mean. You couldn’t muster any sort of reaction, instead your lips parted obediently. “Oh? Already becoming a well behaved little bitch Hmm? You want my cock don’t you?” Karaku was undoing his pants as he spoke, the winged demon still toying with your breasts while the blue eyed demon decided to sit back and watch.

You swallowed at the sight of him, he was a sizable length with veins running up his shaft. His skin was tanned, the tip was angry red and leaking precum already.. “keep your mouth open.” He’s pumping himself slowly, studying your eyes as your pupils dilate. He can’t help but chuckle at the fact that you’re already that far gone. “Leave it to Aizetsu’s wimpy ass to break her. One orgasm was all it took Hmm? Now you’re a needy little bitch in heat.” He’s pressing the tip to your tongue, holding back a shaky whine as your tongue wiggles around it. “Hold her tight, Urogi.” The winged demon holds you tighter, a loud whine emitting from your mouth as he rolls your nipples between his claws. His front is warm against your back, his breath still fanning against your neck.

You can’t help but close your eyes as the green eyed demon plunged his entire length down your throat. A loud whine changes to a strangled gag at the sudden intrusion. “Fuck…” it’s low, just barely audible to you over your struggled swallows. He draws back, watching as you blink your eyes open, lashes already clumped together from tears. “Oh that’s a pretty sight…” Karaku sighs, completely oblivious to his counterparts' gazes. All that matters to him right now is you and the pretty tears leaking down your cheeks. He doesn’t give you much time to prepare before he’s shoving himself back in. Karaku repeats this motion over and over, not slowing even as saliva drips down your chin and onto Urogi’s clawed hands. “Sekido…”

The winged demon is peering over your shoulder, watching his counterpart’s cock disappear between your lips over and over. “Let me fuck her… please this is too easy for an eager bitch like her.” You’re too focused on the dick in your mouth to even acknowledge the one prodding your back. “Not allowed… I’m the only one that will get to fuck her properly.” his tone is final, not even Aitzetsu bothers to fight that command. Yet, Urogi won’t settle for just your throat like Karaku. “Cmon Sekido! Please… she has more than a mouth and cunt you know.” The red eyed demon scowled at the implication. “You’re nothing more than an animal, Urogi.” The ladder didn’t take offence, rather, he laughed.

“Is that permission?” He cooed, clawed hands squeezing your breasts just a bit harder as you choked and wailed around Karaku’s cock. Sekido huffed, eyes pulling away from Urogi and back to your face. “Go ahead.” You’re being pushed around, the green eyed demon quickly grabbing hold of your head to keep you in place as the winged demon behind you lets you go. You’re shivering at the lack of warmth, not realizing how cold the night air was until his body heat was gone. “You’re doing good for a bitch that was trying to run away earlier.” He’s gripping your hair so tight you think he may rip it out of your head all together. His moans are echoing along the empty village houses, reminding you of just how atrocious these four demons truly are.

“You can take it right? You’re handling my cock so eagerly, surely a whore like you can take it up the ass.” Panic ebbed through your body, no longer overwhelmed by the way he fucked your throat. Rather, your focus was on the pair of claws pushing you forward, hands scrambling to brace yourself using the green eyed demon’s thighs. You felt embarrassment flood your cheeks, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as his claws spread you open. You’d never even dreamt of doing anything… down there. Now, you had no choice. “This will do, since Sekido’s too selfish to share her pussy.” The red eyed demon rolled his eyes “don’t make me revoke my blessing.” The position itself was humiliating, your nails digging into the demon’s flesh as something warm prodded your ass.

You whined, something that sounded like a strangled “no.” But that didn’t stop him, his claws were back on you a moment later, dragging you back towards him. You squealed loudly as the motion forced him inside of you. It wasn’t gentle but it wasn’t harsh either, regardless the intrusion felt foreign, making you squirm as parts of you were stretched in ways you’d never felt before. Karaku showed you no mercy, fucking your throat without missing a beat. Your panic was making your throat restrict, which only made it better for him. You felt as if all air was sucked from your lungs, body completely paralyzed under their relentless attacks. “C’mon Karaku, now is no time to show off your stamina…” It seemed as if he could go on forever.

“Shut… the fuck up… Urogi.” He couldn’t slow his hips even if he wanted to, your mouth was too addictive. The other demon only laughed, using it as a way to hide his strangled gasping. You were suffocatingly tight, clenching around him so hard it was nearly painful. “H-ha… Sekido wants to be selfish… therefore I’ll go for the next best thing. I bet your ass is even tighter than your cunt.” His lips were against your ear, making sure you heard him over your ceaseless gagging. It didn’t take long for him to start his fast and brutal pace, exiting and reentering your ass over and over. You had no time to process, nor did you have time to adjust, rather your body was forced to try and accommodate the sudden intrusion. “Shit…shit…” he was finally losing his composure.

“There we go! About time Karaku, I was getting impatient.” For the first time, the red eyed demon seemed a bit pleased by the events taking place. The green eyed demon’s hands gripped your hair so tightly it brought a whole new cascade of tears streaming down your face. Paired with the relentless abuse of your bottom, you couldn’t understand why you were about to cum. The tension was building with each of Urogi’s thrusts, despite nothing you were used to being stimulated. You doubted you’d actually be able to reach your peak, rather it would be dangled right in front of your face, dragging you along the edge but never actually pushing you over. Your clit was throbbing, neglecting and wishing for the blue eyed demon’s mouth.

You glanced over at him, just barely able to see him over the hip of his green counterpart, your eyes locked briefly. His face morphed into one of shock, tanned cheeks turning a shade of bright red before forcing his gaze away. “Stop prolonging it, I want her to myself for a fucking minute.” Urogi stopped his thrusting, burying himself deeply until you were squirming from the full sensation. He wanted to hear your pretty cries, not muffled by Karaku’s dick shoved down your throat. The other only moaned out a “fuck off” before yanking himself from your mouth all together. You gasped for air, your throat hurting from the constant abuse he had bestowed on you. Karaku’s load hitting your face caught you by surprise, sticky cum pairing your mouth, cheeks and chest.

Accompanied by your tears and drool, Karaku completely ruined you. “How’s that? What you hoped I would do, Sekido?” He was panting, tucking himself away before collapsing on the cold ground, the four of you watched him wipe sweat from his brow, eyes closing as he settled his breathing. “He acts like he even did anything… I’ll show you real stamina.” Karaku on the other hand wasn’t even bothered by the backhanded comment. He was more than satisfied for the time being. You sat there now, knees spread as his arms came up to hook under your armpits and clasp together behind your head. You were completely immobile, fully at his mercy. Tears still leaked down your cheeks but at a much slower pace. “You can handle this…” again, right shading your ear.

Urogi’s hips began moving again, without anything occupying your mouth you truly had nothing to focus on but his cock shoved up your ass. How utterly humiliating that is, your eyes welled with tears as you thought about what this must look like from an outsider's viewpoint. Though your mind couldn’t wander for long, not when the red eyed demon was boring holes into you. You held his gaze with lidded eyes, lips parted and pussy dripping onto the dirt below you. You could see his jaw tense, patience wearing thin despite his emotion being anger. You were mildly impressed by that, maybe a little shocked at yourself for trying to seduce him over to you. You’d experienced all but one, in your lust clogged mind, you found yourself aching for him.

“Oh how easy it is to break the human spirit.” He talks softly, too softly for you to hear over the wild moans escaping the winged demon behind you. “She might be exactly what we are looking for.” Karaku was still relaxed on the ground, hands folded behind his head as he relished in the cool night air. “I don’t think she’ll let us keep her…I’d rather not kill her yet…” Aizetsu sighed, watching intently as Urogi used you. There was no right answer to a situation like this one, but you truly did seem so obedient. As awkward as it initially was, you found yourself starting to enjoy it. The sensation was odd but somehow he was hitting places you didn’t think would be possible, your orgasm still dangling in front of you but completely out of your reach without the extra stimulation you needed. “P-please…” you croaked out in a broken voice.

“Please? Please what…” He moaned, cock throbbing as you continued to suffocate him. He would cum by accident if you kept this up. “She probably wants you to rub her clit.” Karaku sighed in a cheerful tone, one eye peeking open to look at the lewd sight before him. “Oh? That's what you want? One wasn’t enough? Aitezu graced you with such a good one earlier.” you whimpered, hips falling back to meet his thrusts. The action was enough to catch him by surprise, a cruel laugh bubbling out of him. “What a needy little bitch… Aizetsu get over here.” Sekido didn’t argue as Urogi commanded the blue eyed demon, he was rather curious to see how it played out. Aitzetsu was up a moment later, crawling over to kneel in front of you with lidded eyes. “You want this?” he questioned softly as two fingers found your clit.

“Y-yes…please…” the friction alone was sending heat straight to your cunt. “Like this?” he questioned again, head coming close to yours as Urogi nearly thrusted you into him. In a weird way, you wanted to kiss him. “Yes… just like that…fuck.” you were too sensitive, your walls fluttering as your second orgasm crashed over you. You wailed, ears ringing from the intensity of your release. Your face was still sticky, covered in drying cum and tears. A moment later, the winged demon was pulling out of you, painting your back and ass in his pearly cum. “Fucking…shit…” his head fell back, wings expanding as he came down from his high. “T-there you go Sekido… her pussy is all yours to ruin.” Aizetsu was still rubbing your clit, fascinated by the way you fell into him while also trying to pull away from his touch.

“Aizetsu, leave her alone until I say.” The blue eyed demon huffed out a sigh, moving away from you entirely. Now, you were left on your hands and knees before the four demons. The winged one had joined the green eyed one on the ground, lounging as he watched his angry counterpart stalk towards you. “You’ve done surprisingly well for a little bitch that put up such a fight in the beginning. You liked being used as a toy, didn't you? I mean look at the way your pussy has been drooling, covering the ground in your slick arousal. Covered in my counterparts’ cum.” he’s undressing as he speaks, watching your lips quiver as you struggle to meet his eyes. “Don’t act shy all of a sudden, don’t think I overlooked the way you were undressing me with your eyes earlier. You were so desperate for someone to touch your needy little cunt.”

Sekido had begun to undress as he spoke to you, watching as your eyes devoured every inch of tan skin exposed to you. There was something different about seeing him undress, as if you hadn’t seen the bare bodies of his green and yellow eyed counterparts. Part of you had to wonder what the blue eyed demon looked like under all his clothing…how you hoped you would be granted the privilege. “It was so easy to break you, look at you. Kneeling on the ground, completely naked, not even trying to run. Though I wish you would… I rather enjoy the chase.” he’s dropping his robes on the ground, exposing a cock that is bigger than the other two you dealt with thus far. You had nothing to say, watching him with wide eyes as he observed you. “Well, if you’re going to be an obedient slut, turn around and stay on your hands and knees.

You did as you were told, switching your position so your ass and cunt faced him. Your head hung low, hips wiggling as you clenched around nothing at all. You couldn’t run away if you tried, you weren’t even sure why you would want to. Not when a dick like his was so eagerly waiting to fuck you. “Look at that, Urogi did a number on you and your back.” You weren’t even aware of the claw marks he had bestowed to your initially unmarred skin. A low thump told you that the red eyed demon had dropped to his knees behind you. What you didn’t expect was his tongue licking up your back. Blood and cum mixed together, a foul combination that the red eyed demon seemed to enjoy. “I nearly regret letting Aizetsu taste your sweet pussy first, I should have been the one to do it. If anything, I should have been first all together.”

You whined, hips shoving back as if that would get him inside of you quicker. A harsh slap to your already sensitive ass had a sob curdling in your throat. “Don’t rush me or I’ll leave you with nothing.” you stilled, waiting for him to grant you proper relief. “You’d make a perfect pet, you know. Get you a nice collar and keep you on a tight lease. You’d be at our beck and call like an obedient little bitch in heat. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” He wanted you as a sex slave, the rational part of your mind that was still somewhat intact wanted to run away, the rest of your mind was screaming out “yes.” how true his words were, how easily broken you were. “C’mon, answer me or you’ll never get the cock you so eagerly want.” you swallowed, lust winning the argument as you cried out a broken “yes…please I want that so badly.”

“Atta girl…” you shrieked as he entered you in one go, splitting your walls apart as he bottomed out. “Shit…” you clenched, suctioning to his length so tightly he couldn’t pull himself out if he wanted to. You were warm, unbearably wet, soft and inviting. There weren’t enough words to describe the way you felt. “A demon like me doesn’t deserve this.” He choked out, panting as he waited for you to relax. He was the only one to give you a moment to adjust, little did you know it was fully designed for his benefit. Sekido couldn’t recall the last time he had experienced the warmth of a human embrace, probably decades ago if he truly had to guess. His stamina was well off, but your cunt was enough to unravel him in one plunge. “Can’t take it, can you Sekido.” You recognized the voice as the green eyed demon.

“Shut the fuck up.” he growled as his nails dug into your already tender thighs. As if to prove his point, he drew himself back, nearly pulling out all together before slamming back into you. You cried out again, nails digging at the frozen ground, searching for a way to keep yourself grounded as he picked up a deadly pace. Your entire body jiggled with each clap, his arms thrusting you forward and pulling you back to meet the thrust of his hips. The motions created an echoing symphony of skin hitting skin, wet squelches adding to it. You couldn’t breathe under the pressure, every drag of his cock grazed the points the winged demon had ghosted. You could feel warmth gushing out of you with each drag out of your cunt, dripping to the ground below.

The sight must have been nothing short of pathetic, your body betraying you, stomping your pride into the dirt beneath you. You were too sensitive, another orgasm sneaking up on you as your cunt quivered around his length. Your ears were ringing again, loud wails escaping as you quickly became overstimulated. Sekido never slowled, pounding into you with the same ferocity as before, calling you degrading names as his nails dug into your hips. The overstimulation grew unbearable but that wasn’t enough to stop him. A fresh wave of tears spilled down your cheeks, blurring your vision as a warm gush of liquid splattered across his thighs and the ground below. “Oh? How cute she knows how to squirt.” you were still sobbing as he pulled out of you.

“You aren’t quite deserving of my cum just yet, maybe you’ll earn it one day.” He grounded out, grabbing your hair and tugging you backwards. “Turn around and open your mouth like a good bitch.” he let you go, watching you fall over yourself as you tried to get low enough to take his length in your mouth. “Fucking…” he cut himself off, pumping his cock erratically before shoving the tip in your mouth. Salty, bitter cum coated your tongue. You swallowed, slurping as much of him as you could manage before he pushed you off of him all together. “Look at you, greedy little whore. You want more don’t you?” you nodded, eyes so heavy you could barely keep them open. “Aizetsu, fuck her throat since she seems to be thirsty.” You couldn’t be bothered to feel shame at this point, all you wanted now was the blue eyed demon’s cock.

He didn’t need to be asked twice, immediately undoing his bottoms to finally let out his aching cock. Unlike his counterparts, he was smaller. However, where he lacked in length, he made up for in girth. Eager and exhausted you nearly fell flat as you tried to make your way over to him. He met you halfway, hand gently grabbing your cheek and guiding you to him. Your jaw aches from the previous abuse but you open anyways, happily taking him into your mouth and lavishing him with your tongue. “Wh–ahh… what an unfortunate creature you are.” he’s looking away from you, unable to handle the sight of you licking his cock so fervently. “Look at her, Aitzetsu. Unless you think it would make you cum faster.” Karaku cackled as he whimpered.

His noise fueled you, relaxing your throat the best you could to take all of him. You swallowed, tears leaking down your cheeks still as you tried to pleasure him. The sad demon was far different than his counterparts, you were drawn to him because of it. He was seemingly gentler with you, softer and more whiny. He met your gaze again, cheeks blossoming a neon red as he tangled his fingers in your messy hair. You couldn’t feel the cold anymore, not even as you knelt bare before him, sticky from the mess his counterparts had made of you. Your tongue glided along the velvety skin, hand reaching up to toy with his balls. That earned a genuine cry from him, the noise making your clit throb despite how sensitive and used you felt.

He wasn’t trying to hold back, not caring if he came embarrassingly quick. He could tell you were slowly but surely losing the battle of staying conscious. Seconds away from giving up all together the moment the adrenaline wore off. It was likely due to his more timid nature, you foolishly felt safe in his presence. You moved quicker despite your body’s protest, wanting desperately for him to cum and make more of those cute noises. Tears pricked his eyes as his body tensed, gripping your hair tightly and pulling you off of him. Your hands moved before you could think, wrapping around him and pumping steadily until he came all over your face and chest. You felt filthy, body struggling to stay upright as stars blinked across your vision. You were finally giving in, nerves no longer keeping you upright as you collapsed forward into the dirt.

Aizetsu dropped to his knees, catching you just in time as your body went fully slack. “She lasted until all four of us were satisfied… she’s a tough one.” Karaku was pushing himself off the ground finally, watching Aizetsu use pieces of your torn up uniform to try and clean you off. “I take it we’re keeping her, right Sekido?” Urogi was standing now, stretching his wings dramatically as he yawned. “Might as well, she could be the perfect fit. Maybe if she proves herself over time, we can convince, master to turn her into a demon as well.” Karaku clicked his tongue. “He would never agree. Though we could ask Lord Douma…” Urogi flinched, watching Aizetsu haul you up bridal style. “That bastard would want a couple rounds with her before agreeing to that. I’m not willing to share outside of the four of us.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make, Urogi.” Sekido scolded, albeit he agreed. Aizetsu was silent, holding you patiently while waiting for the other’s commands. “We’ll leave here for now, keep her blade and tattered clothing where it is. It’s likely they’ll send more puny slayers to try and locate her. If they find nothing but that, they’ll assume she's dead.” Sekido was picking up his staff, moving to walk out of the village. The other three demons shared a glance before following after him with you in tow. It seems you would never be getting back to headquarters, a futile mission had completely altered your life. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

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wosoamazing · 1 month

Text

Interrupted

Summary: You accidentally walk in on Leah and Lia, and it's safe to say your traumatised.

Warnings: Suggestive (Mentions of what R saw when they walked in)

A/N: Thank you for all your requests, I have started writing them, and continue to work on other fics (for both requests and non-requests). Also this is only short but I hope you like it.

You walked down the hallway, heading for Leah’s room, more specifically her bathroom. Your period was meant to start today so you wanted to put a tampon in, however you had none in your bathroom as you took them all with you when you moved to Spain and completely forgot to pack any, so you were planning on using one of hers. To say opening that door was the biggest regret of your life is an understatement, your eyes were only opened for half a second if that, yet the image of the scene in front of you managed to ingrain itself into your brain. The view of your sister’s head in Lia’s lap at 8 am was disturbing to say the least. You quickly ran, well more like speed walked due to the fact you had a moon boot on, to your room, grabbing your bag and heading out the door, calling Viv immediately.

“Viv, Beth, please pick me up, I’m walking in the direction of your house from ours, I will explain later, I just can’t see Leah right now or maybe never,” you said in a voice laced with shock and horror.

“What happened?” Viv asked as the look of complete horror was still plastered on your face. Beth smirked, as she looked at her phone, clearly just receiving a message from Leah.

“Why don’t you tell Viv here, Y/N/N” she said, as she continued to smirk.

“I-I-I walked in on them, her-her-her head was, no please don’t remind me,” you shuddered, “also can we go to the store? I need tampons, that’s why I um, yeah” you said quickly.

“Sure, then we’ll go back to ours and have breakfast before we head to training,” you nodded your head, Barça had allowed to go back to London for a week, more specifically Arsenal as your recovery was going well, the only condition was that you continued your rehab at Arsenal, which you were doing. Surprisingly being at Arsenal didn’t make you sad that you had left, but instead was making you miss Barca, you enjoyed being at Arsenal but it was no longer your home and so it felt slightly different.

____

“Where’s your sister and Lia?” Katie asked smirking, “Don’t tease her like that,” Steph said walking in.

“Wait how do you all know,” “Leah messaged the group chat, saying she thinks she just traumatised you and you left, asking if any of us knew where you were. Beth then replied and said maybe next time lock the door."

“Good Morning Bug,” Leah said as she walked into the locker room going in for a hug, you quickly swerved and ducked under her arm.

“Nope, not good morning” you said as you looked at the ground, briefly glancing up to see Lia’s face bright red.

“It is partly your fault, you know, you’re the one who opened the door.”

“It’s my fault? I’m not the ones who were being disturbingly quiet, with an unlocked door,” everyone's heads tilted to the side as they looked at the two women who couldn’t find any words to speak.

____

“Alexia, please promise me that you will forever lock the door when you’re doing something I shouldn’t walk in on,” you cried out as you walked through the door of the house, not realising that the rest of the team was also there.

“So it is true then,” Alexia smirked, and all the others laughed.

“Actually that goes for all of you." You stop and point at all of them around the room. "Lock. The. Doors." You look at them, not quite sure they all let the message sink in "Doors = Locked. Do you understand?” They all nodded in amusement.

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc #awfc #awfc x reader #barca femeni x reader

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star-girl69 · 2 months

Text

Because Of You

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

synopsis: years after your rite of passage, the boy who’s heart you broke just won’t leave you alone. clarisse, your girlfriend, quickly decides she’s not a fan.

a/n: should i stop procrastinating and then forcing myself to write shitty fics quickly? probably. but not today!! this is kinda just like an au of dont delete the kisses but… you guessed it… IDC!!!!!!!! from this ask

thank you all so much for patiently waiting i love y’all soooooo muuccchhhhhh 🫶🫶💋 as i mentioned on my acc i have the next week off from school, pls expect more content then!!

Because Of You - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, this sucks so bad y’all sorry lolllll, y/n is a year round camper!, starts out very background heavy but i really don’t care 😭, creepy men UGH, ugly bitches not being able to let shit go, im gonna say sexual harassment just incase, swearing, usual demigod stuff y’all know what you’re getting into, jealous!clarisse YESSS, possessive!clarisse ik i screamed!!, protective!clarisse too, slightly graphic makeout scene, i think that’s all, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

When you were young, you were thrilled by the thought of love.

The idea of belonging not only with someone- bodies fitting together like puzzles pieces- but belonging to someone- wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Later, your half-siblings would describe mostly similar experiences to yours- an overwhelming desire to be loved, wanted, needed. Ever since you ran into camp with a monster hot on your heels and satyr shouting encouragement next to you- everyone’s stared at you. They poke and prod, they act like they’ve never seen a daughter of Aphrodite before.

It’s annoying, but it makes you feel good- but not quite.

Until Alek came along.

You were both 13, you still believed in soulmates, and you wanted nothing more than to be with each other for the rest of your lives.

You were 13, and he felt like the only one for you.

And when you had to break up with him to fulfill your rite of passage- it felt like the world was ending. You cried for days and begged your sister Phoebe to say it wasn’t a true, it was just a mean, mean prank.

But she couldn’t tell you that, and there were more types of love that romantic.

While you longed to hold someone, to be held- you also craved your mother’s approval like you were starving. You wanted her love, you wanted her to visit you in your dreams, you wanted gifts from her, you wanted everything and anything she could give you.

So, it hurt like you had never known hurt before, but you did it. Alek seemed entirely indifferent to it, almost ignoring you and pretending you hadn’t said it- but you felt a warmness around you, a dove flew between trees, you knew your mother was there and she approved.

Breaking up with Alek felt like the sun had exploded on top of you.

Being with Clarisse felt like the sun was wrapped around you.

—-

After Alek’s initial denial, he went through all the other stages of grief, mourned your relationship like you did, and you came out on the other side with a one-sided agreement to forget it ever happened.

Alek got stuck. Or went back. He started to believe that you were still meant to be, that much you could tell.

Until that day at the training fields when your hand slipped at archery and you almost shot Clarisse in the head- and she had glared at you so harshly while you ran over and examined her head, gushing out apologies and fretting over her.

She pushed you away, hand lingering for a second, eyes softening before she quickly looked away.

“Just… be more careful,” she had said, almost like a question, like she wasn’t sure the words were coming out of her mouth.

And, Gods, were you terrified it was all some secret plan. Make you think it was alright only to corner you in the woods and probably kill you, or something.

And when she asked the next day to teach you how to shoot a bow, you agreed with tears in your eyes, knowing of her reputation, and it took a lot of trust and a lot of swapped secrets for her to prove to you it wasn’t all some elaborate plan.

But even if her plan was to kill you the entire time, you fell in love over her fixing your stance, hands brushing as you accidentally grabbed the same arrow, stolen looks across the pavilion.

It wasn’t until a random kid bumped into you, making you fall and twist your ankle. Clarisse had this look in her eyes that was so genuine, so full of love and care for you, softly caressing your leg after she had punched the other kid in the face.

And you realize as she said you were doing great, limping while she helped you to the infirmary, that this was something.

And as much as you hated the violence being committed over you, it was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and the warmth in your chest was all you had ever wanted. This was what it was like to belong with someone, to someone, with her, to her.

This was what it was like to be admired. Loved. Wanted. Needed.

And when she softly told you goodbye, you had kissed the corner of her lips and thanked her- turning to walk into your cabin, ankle already feeling better thanks to the ambrosia.

She grabbed you by the wrist and turned you around, pulling you against her tightly and kissing you so harshly like she had just found the secret to the world in her lips on yours, her hands on your hips.

And when she finally pulled away, embarrassing strings of spit connecting your lips, she said she was sorry. Probably the first time she had ever said that to someone, and you smiled.

“Sorry. It’s just… once your lips were on mine, I don’t think I can ever stop. I don’t wanna stop.”

And she kissed you again and it was all you ever wanted out of this life- to love and be loved, to hold and to be held, and it was all because of her.

—-

The welcome back campfire is your favorite time of year.

It’s when the camp comes alive, when the Gods themselves seem to return to this place- even Mr. D is a bit more lively with all the pure infectious energy running through the first few days of camp. Everyone’s getting settled, classes haven’t started quite yet, and the year round campers get a much needed break.

As much as you and Clarisse wanted to keep things private, when she punches someone in the middle of the pavilion for accidentally bumping into you, it’s not hard to figure out Clarisse cares for you more than she does anyone else.

And after one of your younger siblings, Cara, a 12-year-old notorious for staying up late, saw you and Clarisse kissing that first night- it spread like wildfire.

But it was the winter, so it still felt secret, until summer rolled around and Clarisse kept getting more and more annoyed by every camper who entered the gates. She would grab at you in the middle of meals, drag you into her bed, even kiss you in public- do all these things that seemed so out of character for her, but she was a different person when she was with you.

Everyone had been looking at you oddly all night, shocked, confused, even Clarisse has cracked a genuine smile at someone who dropped their drink- squeezing your hand.

Maybe they had all heard the rumors. Maybe they didn’t believe them.

But it’s all cleared up when Clarisse leads you to the best seat, the log not too far from the fire but not too close, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your temple.

Your cheeks heat up, only because Clarisse is never this touchy in public, and never around this many people before.

All of the eyes on you feel weird- they feel so judging.

And you’re not used to that, however vain it may be.

“Everyone’s staring at us,” you mumble, shuffling closer to Clarisse so your legs are pressed together.

She leans her head against your shoulder. “‘S okay. Don’t worry about ‘em, baby.”

You huff. “Did no one ever teach them it’s rude to stare, though? Like… c’mon.”

She sighs dramatically, lifting her head from your shoulder.

“Stop fuckin’ staring,” she says. Not quiet shouting, but her voice is loud and forceful. Her voice carries weight.

And eventually, at the risk of Clarisse’s wrath, all the wandering eyes stop.

A few of Clarisse’s siblings laugh from around you, commenting that the stares were getting a bit ridiculous, everyone just grateful that you all might get a little reprieve from the overwhelming stares and whispers.

But, you still feel uneasy. Clarisse kisses your shoulder.

And while you look around at the faces very pointedly not staring at you, there’s one person who still is. You roll your eyes, open your mouth to comment on it- but your mouth quickly snaps close at the sight of Alek.

—-

You don’t mention it to Clarisse. Maybe because breaking his heart haunts you, maybe what could have been haunts you.

You try not to think of Alek or that night, you try not to think of the entire age of 13. You always knew that Alek never quite let you go. He still sort of believed that the two of you would come back together- subscribing to some abstract belief soulmates.

You don’t think about Alek. Everything you do is because of her, because of Clarisse.

Sometimes, knowing you have secret admirers makes you feel all happy, but now that Clarisse sneaks you into her cabin every night- it makes you feel weird. You really don’t want anyone except for Clarisse, the idea of even being near someone else kinda disgusts you.

But, you choose to believe that maybe he was just shocked, and he’ll get over it in a few days.

You spend your days in the summer sun with Clarisse, holding her hand on walks through the strawberry fields, still using your archery lessons to spend time together, staring at each other from across the pavilion at meals, dreaming about a future together when it gets dark and you’re forced to whisper softly.

Alek is just always lurking. Is it coincidence? Is he stalking you? Every time you’re with Clarisse, trying to enjoy a nice date, he’s there- staring at you like a lovesick puppy.

And if it wasn’t because of her, you would probably be flattered. But you have Clarisse, you’ve moved on, you’re in love and happy.

It’s the late afternoon, you’re trying to enjoy a long moment with her, breathe in the sweet smell and just feel how happy you are, know it’s because of her.

The fields are still crowded with kids who pushed off their chores until the end of the day, so you and Clarisse stay on the outskirts. Not too far into the woods that’s filled with satyrs and nymphs who have grown very hostile towards any two campers who make their way into the woods. But not too close.

You don’t even register that other people are there. You’re going on about your annoying half-brother, she’s pretending to listen intently- but it’s just enough to be here with her, and at least she’s listening to the sound of your voice. At least that brings her some comfort, and that makes you feel good.

“And then, he said-” you trail off, feeling like something’s crawling all over you, practically being able to feel the anger in the air.

“Hm, what?” Clarisse asks, snapping out of her reverie at your silence.

Alek is glaring at you, of course. It just feels so juvenile. You had received letters from him for years- ones that he didn’t sign- but you knew. He said that the two of you had so much more to give together, that a second chance was all he needed to make you forget about the rite of passage, about pleasing your mother.

Clarisse squeezes your hand, leaning closer to you.

You used to like the feeling of getting those letters, of knowing you were loved and wanted. But now, with Clarisse, because of her- it feels wrong.

She follows your eye line and Alek quickly looks away, back down at the strawberries he’s supposed to be picking.

Clarisse’s hand tightens around yours.

“Who the hell is that?” she huffs.

You suck in a breath. “Alek.”

“Al-huh?”

You smile, despite how uneasy you feel.

“Alek, Clarisse. From my rite of passage?”

“Oh,” she nods, nose scrunching ever so slightly. “The one who left you those creepy letters? Has he left anymore?”

“No, no,” you say, risking one more glance at his back- just to assure yourself. Maybe you’re just making it all up. “Not since last summer. I mean, he was staring at us the night of the bonfire too, he’s always around on all our dates- it’s just creepy, at this point.”

“Sounds like the fucker has a death wish,” she drawls. “I’d be happy to help him with it.”

You bump her shoulder with yours. “Yeah, yeah Miss Violence.”

She smiles back, but she searches her eyes and you can tell she doesn’t like what she sees.

“Hey, c’mon. I’ll kill him if he pulls some shit again.”

“Clarisse.”

“Beat him up?”

“Clarisse.”

“Physically threaten him?”

“Clar-”

She smacks her hand over your mouth. “Shhh,” she smiles. “Don’t stress. I’ll take care of it.”

“Clarisse!” you shout, laughing, but her hand is still pressed tight over your moth.

“Oh, sorry, baby, I can’t hear you!”

“Bitch,” you hiss, and she frowns.

“Mean.”

—-

Clarisse, unfortunately, is true to her word.

Alek finally leaves you a note. It’s simple, unsigned, but obviously him. You recognize his chicken scratch scrawl.

All it says is:

I miss you, we could be something

She writes him a note back, a long one- first talking about all of her accomplishments as a daughter of Ares, then detailing all the ways she’ll make him regret thinking about you.

She tells you now, whispers in her bed, she laughs and your mouth hangs open.

“Clarisse!” you gasp, scolding her with a soft hit to her shoulder.

She rolls her eyes and moves closer to you.

“What else was I supposed to do? Ignore it? You don’t know me if you think I could just ignore some random dude flirting with my girlfriend. He’s a fuckin’ weirdo, and hopefully that note will teach him somethin’.”

“I mean. I doubt it will,” you mumble after a moment.

She smiles, your heart squeezes- because her smile is so beautiful- and because Clarisse never smiles like this. It’s bloodthirsty. It’s almost inhuman. It’s Godly.

“Then I’ll have to teach him in… other terms.”

—-

Dinner this evening is slow and relaxed. It’s Friday, so you’ve all made it to the end of the first official week of camp. Chiron let’s the rules fade away tonight, cabin tables have been abandoned and everyone sits where they want.

A few Hermes kids volunteered to start a fire, Mr D is busy trying to get the new kids to sneak him some alcohol- but he’s hard pressed to find ones who haven’t already been warned not to.

The energy in the air is infectious. The promise of a late wake up tomorrow, a fun night, the feeling of the moon and the fire, warmth on your skin- it’s a recipe for lowered inhibitions, for everything to come a little easier.

Clarisse sits next to you a table in the pavilion. You’re surrounded by Silena and Beckendorf, a few Hermes kids, a few Ares kids- a big mosh of random campers squeezed together at this one table- but it works, for whatever reason.

There’s nothing like laughing at someone’s shitty joke and feeling Clarisse laugh with you, pressed close to her so you can feel her chest rumble, feel her arm squeeze around you.

“He did what?!” Silena screeches, looking at you with wide eyes.

You laugh at her shock, at the audacity of Alek.

She sneaks a quick glance at Clarisse, who seems entirely engrossed in her siblings’ arm wresting tournament at the next table over.

“Yeah,” you sigh, feeling sort of complacent with it now. It’s not like anything will change. You’re here because of her, because of Clarisse. Everything you do is because of her.

Breathing, eating, sleeping. Basic human functions and the need to survive has only strengthened with the motivation of staying alive for her.

“Anyways,” you smile. “Clarisse left him back this big, long note. All about how she’s the strongest girl at camp,” you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling too big to be anything but joking. Besides, everyone knows she’s probably right. “And then threatened him a whole bunch. So, hopefully, he’ll just get his head out of his ass and then everything will be good again.”

You breathe out at the end of your small rant, and Silena smiles sympathetically.

“Hopefully,” she echoes.

But, because of Clarisse, because of her arms around you, you don’t feel anything but peace.

—-

Of course, life is not straightforward for demigods.

At the end of the day, you’re doomed to fall in your parents footsteps- except there is no immortality for you to fall back on. You’re vain and you’re proud, just like your parents, and you step too far, jump too high, and you’re as left dust on the floor.

Even though the same path had been left out for you to repeat, doomed footsteps to follow in, you step where they stepped and expect a different end.

The night is pitch black, besides for the brilliant stars and the bright, bright moon. It makes everything feel so private and secret. It makes Clarisse relax, makes her hold you closer but looser.

It feels good to feel her arm loose around you. She’s not afraid of you disappearing, because she knows of someone dragged you away you would rise up from the waves and straight back into her, into her arms.

The Apollo kids are playing music, voices hum along, the night is on fire with the crackles and the rising smoke, on fire with the peace, the content.

It feels like nothing can hurt you here.

But you’re a demigod, and life is not that easy.

The seat next to you is abandoned, and you barely even take notice as it’s quickly filled again- but you take notice of the eyes on you, of the body leaning forward to speak softly to you.

The fact that he’s here, the fact that he blatantly didn’t listen- you suppose you could have felt some sympathy for before, craving a life that wasn’t his anymore. Living off of memories made him too hungry.

Your mouth presses into a thin line as you recognize the voice in your ear.

“Y/N, I jus’ wanna talk.”

The rest of the table has fallen silent, and you realize everyone had almost immediately taken notice of his entrance- and you could tell by the way Clarisse’s body was tense against yours- he would regret ever coming over here.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, shifting closer to her.

She hooks her head over her shoulder, shifting completely so she’s straddling the bench, pressed up against your back.

Her tone is genuinely confused.

“Are you, like, okay in the head?”

The table, previously silent with fear, now bubbles with forced laughter.

“It’s not of your business,” Alek says, staring directly into your eyes. You feel like a deer caught in headlights, just completely shocked, too scared to move like it will all become real.

Clarisse puts her hand on your forehead and floats it down across your face, and your eyes voluntarily flutter shut.

“You’re not even worthy of being looked at by her,” and you can hear the smile on her voice. She confidence seeping from her pores- you can feel it all with the way she’s protectively wrapped around you.

“Y/N,” he says again, ignoring her through gritted teeth. “I just want to talk.”

“If you say one more fuckin’ word to my girlfriend I’m gonna kill you.”

There’s no smile on her voice, no edge of a joke. Not even angry. She’s deathly calm. She’s focused, like a 20 pound weight sinking to the bottom of the sea. She cuts through whatever she has to and everything else knows to avoid her.

You don’t know why the hell Alek just can’t let the 13 year old version of you go, why he’s looking something where there’s nothing, and you’re just so done with all of this.

You open your eyes, sitting up, letting Clarisse’s arms fall around you in confusion.

“Alek,” you start, softly. “We dated for a month when we were 13. That’s all it was, that’s all it’s ever gonna be. It’s over, okay?”

“Exactly,” he breathes. “A month when we were 13- and we were that good together? We could do so much more now, I wanna show you.”

“Okay, I’m done,” you mumble, standing up.

And without you in between, Alek finally gets a good look at the daughter of war. She’s pure, streamlined muscle. Every inch of her body has been meticulously trained to kill monsters- Alek knows that killing him would be easy.

Clarisse cracks her knuckles and you almost laugh at how cinematic it is.

—-

You hum as you run the alcohol pad over her split knuckles. Clarisse likes to leave the scars like this, the small ones, let them heal on her own. Even though she winces at the feeling, you know she’ll be walking around, proudly showing off her scabs until they finally fade away. She’ll cross her fingers and hope they scar, probably.

Clarisse watches you with admiration, admiring your movements, your voice, even though you’re really not doing anything special. But, to her, everything you do is special.

“Did you see how bad his face was?” she asks, trying to remain calm, but eagerness slips into her voice.

“I did,” you laugh. “It was real bad, baby. Good job.”

She huffs, as if it’s common knowledge.

“I always do a good job, just matters what level of good I’m on. I think this was one of my best works though, huh?”

She admires her split knuckles and you roll your eyes, finally starting to put some bandaids on the clean wounds.

“You’re crazy,” you mutter.

She shrugs. “You’re the one who let me. You’re the one who loves me.”

“Yeah,” you mumble after a moment, not really wanting to lie to her, tease her right now. She smiles soft and sweet, placing her fingertips against your jawline and leaning forward.

“Did you like watching me?” she breathes, her low voice hitting you right in the stomach, breath against your lips.

You circle her biceps with your hands and run them up and down the tense muscle.

“You know I did.”

“Three months no dessert,” she smiles.

“Three months of sharing with you,” you laugh. She smiles wider before finally, mercifully, putting her lips on yours.

Everything you do is because of Clarisse. It feels so good to be close to her like this- practically in her lap- fo feel how strong she is, to know what she did for you today.

It feels so good to know she loves you.

When you pull away, trying to chase her, she dodges you and kisses your jawline, your neck, and you throw your head back and release the most unladylike sounds as she leaves hickies on your neck, seemingly determined to make them as dark as possible, as easy to see. And a lot of them.

“Jealous?” you say, biting your lip to keep in a moan.

“Just want everyone to know you’re my girl. Want everyone to know who makes you feel good, feel loved, huh?”

You stomach twists and your mind goes blank.

“Huh?” she repeats, sticking her face in your neck to breathe in and out, catching her breath. “Why you feelin’ like this, baby?”

“Because of you,” you breathe. “Because of you, Clarisse.”

—-

y/n walking around the next day looking like she got attacked by a vampire

silena trying to be happy for y’all but also concerned for your health

clarisse just being proud as hell

—-

this was small so idk if y’all picked it up but clarisse was jealous before alek even came along- jealous that there were more campers coming! like? she just doesn’t like unworthy losers looking at her girl 🙄

—-

possessive!clarisse i love you so much baby

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish @rebecca37 @saltair-and-palemoonlight @ace-spades-1

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader

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bad-and-drawn-that-way · 2 months

Note

Let me just say, I absolutely adore your writing so much!! Your More Than Anything series with Vox is honestly one of, if not my favorite Vox series!!!❤💙 I was wondering if you could do a kind of silly, fluffy imagine with Vox where they're in their early stages of flirting/crushing and the reader avoids the topic of kissing... because they think Vox isn't able to kiss with his screen? Literally before episode 8, the question in my mind was "Can the dorky TV man kiss?" And then we got confirmation he most DEFINITELY could 🤣 I just think it'd be so cute and funny for that to be something the reader was wondering as well but wasn't sure how to ask him about it without being weird lol

Oh my goodness, such high praise aaaa! I actually have a scene in my Ao3 fic based on the same concept! I'd be happy to write some awkward smoochums! This guy is such a fucking dork and I love him.

Assumptions [Vox x Reader Fluff]

You and Vox had been dating for a month and the overlord was on the verge of insanity. He knew that Valentino had much more intense needs when it came to physical affection than most, but he wasn't expecting such a drastic shift in needs when it came to you.

He knew that being in a real relationship was very different from what he'd experienced before with his fellow overlord. But he thought the two of you would have done something by now. Not even necessarily sex. (Although he'd definitely been fantasizing about that more than he cared to admit.)

The two of you had cuddled, slept in the same bed, and even h*ld h*nds, but you hadn't kissed yet and it wasn't for his lack of trying. He'd invited you on romantic dates and set up several perfect opportunities. But whenever he'd try to go for it, you'd always pull away before he had the chance.

He didn't understand. The two of you had been doing so well. You always seemed to be swept up in the little heated moments just as much as he was, so why?!

Vox had been completely distracted during his entire news segment and groaned as slipped into his secluded dressing room. If it wasn't for the fact that he caught sight of you in his mirror, he probably would have flipped out when he felt your arms slip around him from behind.

"What are you doing here?" he chuckled as he lifted a hand to rest on one of your arms.

"I missed you," you smile, squeezing him gently before letting go. "And I saw that..." you cringe. "Performance. You seemed off. Is something on your mind?"

Vox's eyes widened and he cursed himself mentally for putting on a subpar show in front of the camera. If you noticed, then the audience probably did as well. No one really gave half a fuck about the news, but ratings were ratings.

"It's nothing," Vox muttered. "It's just..."

He looks up at you with an unreadable expression and you gasp as he reaches up and gently takes hold of your chin. His brow furrows as he tucks your hair behind your ear and your heart races a million miles per second as he searches your blushing face for something. His eyes flick down to your lips and he slowly starts to lean, only for you to suddenly push him away.

"A-Anyways I just wanted to check in on you and see if we were still on for a movie tonight," you stammered.

Vox froze, not listening to your ramblings as he processed your deflection. He felt a sharp, cold sting of rejection in his chest and wondered if maybe you weren't as interested in the relationship as he hoped. His heart started to break, but then he noticed the way you were blushing.

"Why?" He asked quietly.

"Well, I just thought maybe you wanted to-"

"No," Vox grit his teeth as he grabbed you by the shoulders. "Why the fuck won't you kiss me? Every time I try, you pull away. We're dating, so why?"

You blinked up at him owlishly, your jaw hanging open before you grabbed his arms and breathed, "You can kiss?!"

Vox's brow furrowed as he looked you over, "Wh- The fuck are you on about? Yes, I can fucking kiss! I've been trying to kiss you for the past three goddamn weeks!"

You gasped before burying your face in your hands and groaning. "Oh my god, I thought... There were a couple times that I wondered, but this whole time I didn't think you could and I didn't want to be weird and..."

Vox stood taller as he processed your words. You didn't hate him. You weren't repulsed by him. You were just...

He burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he absolutely lost it. "O-Oh my god! You're such a fucking idiot!"

Your face was burning with embarrassment. You knew he wasn't being malicious, but you were still mortified at the misunderstanding. "Oh shut up! It's not my fault you're a flat-faced fucker!"

You were about to go bury your shame into the couch, fully expecting him to hold this against you for the rest of the day, but you were barely able to take two steps before Vox intervened.

You let out a startled yelp as you felt his claws wrap around your arm and yank you back. In the split second it took you to blink, he'd trapped you against a wall. You flinched as his hands slammed against either side of your head, trapping you as he grinned down at you.

"You are so fucking stupid," he snickered.

Your face only grew warmer as your heart pounded with mixed anger, embarrassment, and something else entirely due to the position he had you in. His hand traces lightly over your cheek before cupping the side of your face as he looks at you with the softest expression you'd ever seen from him.

You gasp as he leans down and presses his lips against yours. Your entire body feels like tiny fireworks are dancing lightly over your skin. You shiver as your hands instinctively reach up to grasp at his vest when he pulls you close.

You're both breathing much harder than is necessary when he pulls away. For a moment you just look at each other with half-lidded gazes as you process the sparks that just metaphorically and literally flew. You were pretty sure a bulb went out due to the little bits of blue energy that sparked off of your boyfriend during the kiss.

Speaking of your dork, Vox breathlessly grinned as he squeezed your arms. He let out a small laugh before stepping away from you and turning as more little sparks flew.

"Fucking finallyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" Vox yelled as he pumped his arms in the air and kicked his legs like a giddy child.

#vox x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader

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astonmartinii · 9 months

Note

was wondering if you could do a smau or just a normal fic where oscar or lando are with an f1 academy driver!reader where maybe outside of racing reader is slightly alternative/rockstar gf vibes

hope you have a good day!

i am the rockstar, girlfriend | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x f1academy!reader

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, oliviarodrigo and 320,984 others

yourusername: you get the best of both worlds

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user1: enough is enough i need to be her

user2: someone get that kitty cat some ear protectors

yourusername: i found cumberland sausage in a bush by an airfield baby has ear drums of literal steel

user3: i wish i was a kitten who gets to go racing and live the rockstar life

racerbia: tell cumberland i love her

yourusername: so what about me ???

racerbia: i guess i love you too

yourusername: that's what i thought

user4: miss ma'am lowkey MADE it tell me why she has olivia rodrigo in her likes

user5: the girlies been using y/n as a pinterest board

oscarpiastri: who's the cutie

yourusername: oh oscar i'm blushing ... 😊

oscarpiastri: i meant cumberland sausage

yourusername: blocked.

oscarpiastri: i'm in your walls.

user6: i'm sorry but what the fuck is going on in here

user7: i'm just going to sit back and observe

vogue

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 1,209,875 others

tagged: yourusername

vogue: this month's cover of british vogue is up and coming f1 academy driver y/n y/ln who doesn't let her day job as a driver stop her from embracing her chosen aesthetic in every other aspect of her life. inside y/n touches upon her struggles as a woman in the industry, inspiring others and her scene-stealing cat, cumberland sausage.

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user8: mama on the cover of vogue ???

user9: okay i don't have a clue what the f1 academy is but i may have to tune in now

yourusername: thank yew for having me 🥰

user10: i guess we can't gatekeep her anymore

user11: gatekeep? girl she had like 700k followers before this

racerbia: oh so my bestie FAMOUS famous

yourusername: don't worry i'll never forget you

racerbia: i should hope not you still don't have your road license and who gives you lifts?

yourusername: i love youuuuuuuu

user12: so not to make it about a man, but oscar always be in the comments/interacting with posts from/about y/n

user13: rocks for brains

user14: tbf they'd be cute

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 609,812 others

tagged: premaracing, yourusername

oscarpiastri: can't keep me away from the racing, i spent my spare weekend in barcelona with the f1 academy. oh i guess i bumped into y/n (most importantly, cumberland sausage)

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user15: so ... did anyone else know they were friends?

user16: i went dumpster-diving to find out and they're very lowkey but they've known each other a long time but because of racing in different series they've mostly had an online friendship

user15: interesting

yourusername: always nice to see you osc, and cumberland says thank you for her dreamies

oscarpiastri: she's always the highlight of our visits

yourusername: stop playing hard to get

oscarpiastri: you know i'm always easy for you

user16: @yourusername you know we can all see this, right?

yourusername: i know that's half the fun

user17: god this comment section fried my brain

landonorris: so THIS is where you were this weekend

oscarpiastri: yes, i told you this

landonorris: nooooo, you skipped my bbq because you were visiting "someone special"

oscarpiastri: yes, cumberland sausage

landonorris: i'm on to you, piastri 🤨

f1academy

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 331,896 others

tagged: premaracing, yourusername

f1academy: OH WOW !! y/n y/ln sets a record this weekend in monza by leading all practices, grabbing pole for all three races, leading all laps and winning all three races - the first ever f1 academy grand chelem

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user18: okay but like what more does she need to do to get to f2?

user19: i was there and lord this is DOMINATION

racerbia: that's MY teammate

yourusername: i love youuuuuu

user20: now this is a slay

oscarpiastri: wowowowowowowo

yourusername: do i make you speechless?

oscarpiastri: you know it

user21: these bitches are just teasing us now.

yourusername

liked by racerbia, oscarpiastri and 679,034 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: happy birthday cumberland sausage, my pretty girl, mummy and daddy love you xxx

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user22: MUMMY AND DADDY?

user23: so we're all idiots?

racerbia: i thought you guys agreed on a soft launch?

yourusername: too much effort, cumberland's birthday is now

racerbia: your mind confuses me so much

user24: i'm new here someone PLEASE tell me how this cat ended up with the name cumberland sausage

yourusername: when i rescued her the only food i had in my flat was a pack of sausages and it just stuck

oscarpiastri: does this make you a milf?

yourusername: and you a dilf?

landonorris: who are you and what have you done with my teammate?

oscarpiastri: are you just annoyed you found out the same time as everyone else?

landonorris: .... no

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 788,034 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: best weekend, with the best of company

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user25: mama y papa

user26: obsessed with y/n's need to bring her cat with her everywhere, she's just like me

yourusername: so proud of you osc

oscarpiastri: maybe it's because i had a good luck charm in my garage

yourusername: that's cute, but for real you're just TALENTED AS FUCK AND DESERVE EVERYTHING

user27: loving y/n's brand of aggressive positive reinforcement

mclaren: turns out we ARE a cat friendly garage

yourusername: that you are, and your catering is very good 10/10 experience would do again

oscarpiastri: extra points for letting cumberland sleep on a tyre blanket

yourusername

liked by racerbia, oscarpiastri and 821,067 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: living the dream

view all comments

user28: that should be me 😭

user29: god i have seen what you have done for others

oscarpiastri: i dream of you often

landonorris: i beg you stop being horny on main

oscarpiastri: you made it weird mate i'm just professing my love for my girlfriend

yourusername: awwww love you too baby

user30: the way oscar is lowkey bringing in y/n's aesthetic

yourusername: i love this thought but really he'd just came for a last min visit and that is my shirt 😭

oscarpiastri: don't expose me like that

user31: now that's MY f1 IT couple

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri instagram au #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine

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lxclerc · 9 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐝𝐫𝟑

summary... it’s never the right time for you and daniel, always something pulling the two of you away from each other. requested... yes by literally everyone. yall were coming at me with pitch forks for this warning... age gap (7 years), emotional cheating, physical cheating, angst, angst, angst, light smut (more on fade to black) pairing... daniel ricciardo x horner! reader

note... i am tagging each and everyone of you who asked for a part 2 bc this fic has quite literally loomed over my head ever since i posted it a year ago. literally everytime i open this godforsaken app, someone is offering me their first born for the part 2 so yall better give me all the notes!!!

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

← prev part

high tide came and brought you in

“if you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?”

the question caught you off guard as your friend drunkenly pondered over it out loud. where would you go? you were sober enough to say home, the most acceptable answer that would not invite any other follow up questions. it’s simple and doesn't need a discussion. the reason it caught you off guard wasn’t just that though but because your answer was instantaneous in your head. your answer isn’t a where but rather a who, came your bitter realization.

and you knew that if you could go anywhere in the world right now, it’d be him you’d go to. he always lingers in the back of your mind, everything that reminded him of you tends to bring a certain kind of aching and longing you’ve grown to resent over the months and years spent without him.

daniel sent you away and deep in you, you know he meant good. he’d done a selfless thing, loving you and setting you free. but missing him was unbearable, loving him all consuming and you resent him for doing this to you. you resent the world for making you fall for a man without letting you have him.

still, you did as he told you. you went back to school, pursuing a career in a field you knew he’d be proud of, achieving your dreams and living your life as though a part of you hadn’t been left with him.

your friends carry on with the party. half of university was partying which is a scene familiar to you. this time, it’s on the beach, the salty air and sound of crashing waves echoing with the sound of the music and chatter. still though, you can’t help but scan the place as though looking for him among the crowd of people the same way you always would. you miss the way you’d find his eyes already on you, pools of brown dripping like honey on your skin.

but he’s never there and you feel dirty whenever another man looks at you, their gazes too eager as they look at you as though you’re a piece of meat, never gentle like his as though you’re aphrodite herself walking among mere mortals.

you miss him is the ugly truth. you miss him so fucking terribly it makes you angry. you don’t want to miss him. you no longer want to love him. loving him hurts, as though he’s clawing at your chest and squeezing your heart together in a sick sort of torture.

but even before he touched you, you were his. all he had to do was look at you. you exist in two places – here and wherever he is.

eventually as the night progresses on, you move away from the party. you’re in some fancy country club and the tile is expensive on your feet as you step out of your heels and walked towards the beach, feeling the cool sand against your skin.

in hindsight, you really shouldn’t have been surprised to find him in a place like this but despite looking for him wherever you go, you’d never expect to find him. searching for him has become a comfort the same way longing for him has – in a sick, twisted and painful way.

but he’s here now and in the one time you hadn’t searched for him, he found you. the moment you’d spotted his figure looking out at sea, he turned to you as though a gravitational pull connected you to him.

one year, three months and fourteen days. that was the last time you saw him but he looked no different from the man who’d brought you back to your hotel room only to say goodbye.

and then he smiled and it was as though the sun shone on you again.

“honey,” he says and your heart trembles.

daniel.

it was too early. and you’re drunk and you aren’t entirely sure if you were dreaming or not.

but he stands before you, eyes of brown looking as though you’re aphrodite herself and he can’t quite believe he gets to stand before you. eyes of brown that seem to be sobbing without tears. daniel.

you’re still not talking and he’s letting you, watching you so intently as though he’s memorizing your face. he looked the exact same but you know what he must be seeing. you look nothing like the woman he left behind. you’d cut your hair short and dyed it. long gone were your summer dress, replaced by tight fitting ones that showed off your body. you feel different and you tried so hard to make sure you wouldn’t recognize yourself in the mirror. you hated seeing the woman who couldn’t make him stay.

but in his eyes, you see your reflection and you recognize her well.

“daniel,” you muttered as the crashing waves touched your feet. would you love me now? you wanted to ask.

he smiled again. “you look beautiful as you always are.”

please touch me, you wanted to beg. soft eyes and soft soft hands. you’re lonely without him.

you manage a grin. “sure, old man.”

the laugh that he let out echoed against your soul. “i’m being honest.”

you missed him. god, you missed him so fucking much.

but daniel still would not let himself love you. not yet, not now that you’re finally building something for yourself. you have friends and have set goals. not yet.

“y/n!” someone calls from behind you but you’re hesitant to take your eyes off of daniel, terrified he’d become a figment of your imagination the moment you do. but your friend's familiar calls force you to. “come on, we have to go.”

you ignore her, turning back to daniel and he smiles at you, offering his hand for you to shake. this is the best he can offer for now. “i’ll see you around, kid.”

you wanted to cry, wanted to scream that it’s so unfair, but you smile sadly as he shook his hand, his calloused fingers so familiar against yours.

“in a few years,” you say.

and as the ocean brought him back to you, the waves must return to the sea.

but you were still gone and gone, gone and gone

the next time you see daniel again, you were twenty four. you’re in your last year of university, applying for your doctorate. you loved academia, you loved your two cats and your little apartment downtown, you loved science and the galaxy it holds and you eventually realized that this is why he let you go. he wanted you to have this — be more than someone who just follows a man around country after country.

he wanted you to grow, wanted you to find the things you really loved without influence from him. he wanted you to find your independence and learn to stand on your own two feet.

max brought you here. it’s his first world champion and as his self proclaimed best friend, he refused to allow you to skip this one and so you pulled up your big girl pants and got on with it, arriving in abu dhabi on friday.

by some cruel twist of fate, he’s the first person you find the moment you enter the paddock. it would have been rude to ignore him and so you smile even though you can clearly see the woman next to him and the way she stands close.

goddamn it.

it hurt. it hurt seeing her there. it hurt seeing her cluelessly smile at you. the way he looks at you now, eyes of brown full of silent apologies, looking as though he wanted to reach over and touch you, to comfort you.

you release a shaky breathe, raising your hand in an pathetic attempt of a wave before you walk past him. you aren’t the same young kid like before. now, you have enough self reservation to not actively put yourself in a situation that would only hurt you. you don’t need to play besties with daniel’s new girlfriend.

the moment you enter the red bull motorhome, you hit max at the back of his head.

“what?” he exclaimed as you glared at him.

“you’re an idiot,” was all you said before moving towards your father. you’d ignore daniel and his girlfriend. you’re here to support max – even if he is a stupid idiot – and there’s no need for you to obsess over daniel.

but of course, you still do anyway. even as you watch the race, you’re watching him. he looks good, amazing, fucking edible. he looks like he stepped right out of your dirtiest dreams, all thick neck and stable arms. he looks beautiful, absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking and you selfishly want him just for you. but you’ve always wanted that and you’ve never been allowed to have him.

and then you’re watching her. she’s grace herself, really. she’s exactly the kind of woman he needed and you wonder if she knows about you and then you wonder what it is about her. what is it about her that made it so that daniel thought she’s good enough for him to love when he never could you?

“mate, it’s getting creepy,” max said as he took the seat before you. he looks tired but he looks determined and the way the hair falls over his face makes you smile. max is a very special person to you and you know that he always will. you hold him close to your heart and you know you’d move the earth for him.

you reach over, fixing the collar of his red bull shirt. “shut up.”

“her name’s caroline,” max says. “if you want to get to know her then just approach her.”

you glared at him. you don’t want to know her name. you don’t want to know what her laugh sounds like or the color of her eyes. you don’t want to know what made daniel fall in love with her. you don’t want to know her.

“shut up,” you say again. “i’m still blaming you.”

max laughed and you think him annoying you might just be his way of distracting himself from the race so you let him. you let him talk on and on and on the entire time till he’s needed back in the motorhome. you let him steal yur ice cream and tap your nose.

but when you turned back to her, caroline, you find him staring right back at you, anger and jealousy in those brown eyes you missed so much.

and it was like you’re twenty again, petty and young as you glared right back at him. he had no reason to be jealous when he has her beside him. he has no right to be jealous when he’s the one who’s never allowed the two of you to be more.

these hands had to let it go free

that night, he called you for the first time in three years. his name lit up your phone and your hand shook as you picked it up. his picture, smiling up at you taken at your twentieth birthday stares right back at you.

“daniel,” you breathe out as you press the phone against your ear. you’d arrived back in your hotel room two hours ago smelling of champagne and victory. max’s world championship trophy is laying next to you after being forgotten because your best friend was far too drunk to grab it before his girlfriend dragged him out. throughout the party, you avoided daniel like the plague, keeping to your side of the room and never straying towards him.

“i missed you,” he says from the other end, voice cracking and slurring. he’s drunk and you push back the blanket as you enter the bathroom, hand gripping your phone. “but fuck it, i don’t miss this.”

“what are you saying?”

“he’s my best mate, y/n.” there goes your name. not sweetheart or honey. he says your name like it’s sacred, something he’s only ever allowed to say when he’s at his most vulnerable, completely raw and baring his soul to you. “and i wanted to fucking punch his face the entire night.”

you close your eyes. this is familiar to you. daniel and his raw honesty when he’s drunk. daniel and his jealousy of max. this is all so familiar to you that you feel twenty again. you feel young and out of control and so drunk in love with a man you can’t have that it physically hurts. he’s ripped you off the past few years where you’ve grown into yourself. you’re twenty again and so tragically in love.

“i wanted to punch his fucking face because his touching you, because i’m not allowed to touch you,” he continues as you sink to the floor.

“you’re the only one who’s never let yourself touch me, daniel,” you whispered on the phone, broken down from one phone call.

he laughs bitterly and you might as well not have said anything. “and here i am, can’t even sleep next to my damn girlfriend because i keep thinking of you. it’s so unfair.”

you wanted to laugh too. unfair? how does he get to talk about unfair when he’d been the one to create this mess for the two of you? how dare he talk about being unfair when he’s the one who’s with another girl? this is unfair. it’s unfair to you. he doesn’t deserve to talk about it being unfair.

the night he left you in your hotel room on your twenty first birthday, you’d called his name again and again like a child. you hoped by some magical thing that he’ll appear. you were desperate.

“you shouldn’t have come back,” he says. “not yet. we both weren’t ready.”

you wipe the tears falling to your cheeks. “and when will that happen? when will we be ready? maybe it’s time to accept that it isn’t us.”

you heard him let out a shaky breath. “don’t say that. don’t say it.”

“i’m so tired of waiting. if it wasn’t us then and it isn’t us now, why do we still believe that it’s us someday?”

“ask me to stay,” he whispers. “ask me to stay and i will. ask me to drop her and i will. i will drop everything if you ask me to.”

you cry, pulling your knees against your chest. “goodbye, dan.”

struggled through the night with someone new

the next time you see daniel again, you invited him. you’re twenty five, it’s two thousand and twenty two, you’re engaged and you’d gotten arrogant.

you met your fiance, james, in university. you’re in the same program and the same friend group though you never paid much attention to him. for the most part, you never really paid much attention to anyone. six months later and he asked you on a date, one you’d declined without a second thought. it didn’t matter how many guys asked you out, you always declined, daniel in the back of your mind always reminding you of what you’re truly waiting for.

but james never treated you any differently. he never made it awkward and never put you on the spot. for the most part, you both acted like it never happened. but you applied to the same doctorate program and coincidentally ended up in apartments right next to each other. he was a comfort, a friend you already knew that you could rely on. he never made anymore advances towards you but it was inevitable to grow closer.

he’s stability and curiosity. he never once pulled back whenever you touched him or apologized for liking you. it was a breath of fresh air – to be admired so freely. you did your thesis together, hands tightly clamped together as you defended it.

you were the one to ask james out on a date, knowing he wouldn’t again in fear of making you uncomfortable. and after leaning on each other as friends for so long, transitioning to become lovers was so easy, you didn’t have to worry what anyone would say or think of you. you didn’t have to worry what your family would think. everything was easy with him.

james was so different from the type of love you were used to. you could love him without guilt, without pain and longing. you could love him simply, easily. you didn’t need to ask him to love you back, didn’t need to wonder if he’d still love you tomorrow. it was so easy being with him and you’d gotten lazy. waiting and hurting and crying for daniel was exhausting.

you wanted a love you didn’t have to fight for.

you’ve convinced yourself that you no longer felt anything for daniel, gaslighting yourself into believing that you’d close that chapter and left it in the past. you can move on now. there was no need for you constantly being miserable and lonely waiting for him to be ready.

and yet here you were, your fiance’s arm around you as you stare at the front door. you shouldn’t have invited him. there was no reason for you to do so but you wanted to prove yourself. you wanted to prove to yourself that he no longer affected you. daniel is in the past and you’ve told yourself repeatedly that you’ve let him go but now you wanted to show yourself that you have.

if you’re lucky, maybe he wouldn’t attend at all.

“are you okay, love?” james whispered against your ear, having noticed your stiff posture. you spent weeks planning your engagement party, stressing over the smallest details but now you don’t seem to be enjoying yourself.

you loved this about him – the way he’s able to read you like an open book. james knows there was someone before him – someone who’d left you broken and torn apart. he just didn’t know that person would be attending today.

you nod, taking a sip from the champagne glass you’d been holding as an excuse to stop your hands from fidgeting. “just a bit nervous from the crowd.”

“don’t worry too much. it’s just friends and family.” he gives you an assuring smile, accepting your reasoning as he pulls you closer towards him to try and comfort you.

you’re an idiot, the biggest one there is. max told you himself after you told him that you sent the invite to daniel. you’re a massive idiot and you’re in denial and you set your own trap, tempting yourself when there was no need to and now you were going to hurt james because the moment daniel entered the room, your breath was knocked out of you, heart beating furiously as though it recognized him.

it was daniel. how can you be so stupid?

his eyes meets yours and you missed the way those eyes of brown settle on your skin, grazing as though his soul was touching yours. but they’re sad this time – sad and exhausted and defeated and you can practically hear the way your heart shatters. it was daniel. it has always been daniel. it will always be daniel. how stupid were you to think otherwise? how stupid were you to believe you could ever forgot the way your heart and soul roars back to life the moment he enters the room.

you’ll break james’ heart, you’re breaking your own and you’ve broken his.

the entire time, you and james had stood before the door, greeting all of your guests and showing them where they can wait. you absolutely had no plans to greet daniel. it was bad enough that he was here, but james, sweet sweet james, who had no idea what he was doing dragging you towards the formula one driver, hadn’t gotten the memo.

he didn’t know that having daniel’s eyes on you so close would set wildfires in your stomach and he didn’t know how exhausting and difficult it was to contain those wildfires. he didn’t know that he was burning himself as he all but dragged you in front of him.

“hey,” your fiance says cluelessly. “daniel ricciardo!”

daniel is looking at you and you feel frozen under his gaze. it’s heavy. he makes you feel heavy, like you were cheating on james simply by looking at you. you feel nauseous but with guilt eating up at every cell in your stomach. but you shouldn’t feel guilty. he had no right to make you feel guilty for moving on. he moved on. last you him, he had a girlfriend. why aren’t you allowed to do the same? why can’t you go on with your life and build a future with a nice man that isn’t him?

“i’m a big fan,” james says cheerfully, offering his hand for daniel to shake and forcing him to tear his gaze away from you.

daniel forces a smile to his face, moving to shake his hand and you know this is the part where you’re supposed to introduce him. daniel is your guest after all and so you clear your throat, hoping your smile isn’t as stiff as you feel like it is.

“james, this is my friend daniel. daniel, my fiance james.” you manage to let out, gripping your champagne glass to avoid having to touch either of them the same way you avoid the way daniel’s eyes hardened when the word fiance tumbled from your lips.

“it’s really nice to meet you, mate,” james says with a massive smile. god he’s so nice and sweet and you hate what you’re doing to him.

daniel says nothing, only smiling and you end this entire interaction the moment you get a chance to. pointing at the snacks table, you turned to him. “there’s food over there and max is around here somewhere. nice seeing you again, daniel.”

you were lying through your goddamn teeth. thankfully, he seems to have taken the hint, walking away without saying another word.

the entire night, you feel his eyes on you. even as james makes his speech declaring his love for you, daniel stares at you with hooded eyes. he looks pissed and sad at the same time and you wanted to scream. stop looking at me! you couldn’t take anymore of this. he’s looking at you as though you’re under a microscope – staring into your soul like he could reach you there.

you’re an idiot and now that he’s in the same room as you are, the illusion has left you. you’re not over daniel because you can never be over him. he’s engraved in your soul, his fingerprints all over your heart. he was, and still is, the sun that made your universe turn. you’re choking and you needed to get away lest you burst.

daniel is overwhelming. he’s terrifying and addicting and you hate him but you’re madly in love with him. and worse of all, you’ll spend the rest of your life being in love with him. you’ll spend the rest of your life wanting him and hurting for him and and longing for him and that’s a goddamn fucking tragedy.

you manage to get through the party, practically dissociating yourself. eventually the guests leave one by one, only your family and closest friends left. you sit on the foyer with max, the dutchman watching you drink champagne straight out of the bottle.

“you shouldn’t have invited him,” he tells you quietly. “you were fucking yourself over.”

you roll your eyes. you stare inside the house where daniel is talking to your father. your dad offered his home for your engagement party. you know he likes james. your mother too and your little siblings can’t get enough of him. that fact almost makes you want to throw up.

“i thought i was over him,” you say.

it’s max’s turn to roll his eyes. “you’re just a good liar. you’ll never be over daniel and he’ll never be over you. even i know that.”

you glared at him. you already know what he’s telling you and quite frankly, you had no desire to hear it again. “i hate you.”

“neither you nor dan would survive this long without me.” max laughed and you threw the throw pillow at him.

not that he’s lying. you met max the same time you did daniel and you clicked immediately. he knows everything, comforted you many times as you pined over dan. he’s your best friend and he’s also daniel’s best friend. he knows more than anyone how deep the connection you two shared.

“go home already,” you tell him. you’re tired and slightly drunk and you just want to go to bed now. “and make sure you take him with you.”

max laughed at the way you said him like it’s a bad taste on your tongue but did as you said anyways.

that night, you laid on the bed you and james shared, you couldn’t sleep. he’s fast asleep next to you, his arm over your stomach as you lay wide awake. you shouldn’t have invited him because now he’s turned your world upside down again. everything you’ve built for yourself was gone the moment his eyes met yours. he’s a plague, sucking all the happiness out of you.

eventually though, the restless night was about to get worse as you picked up your phone, scrolling through your contacts till you found his name. you stared at it for a while, knowing that you shouldn’t but you’re rattled and your self control is at an all time low. you shouldn’t have been trusted to make any types of decisions.

you come back to what you need

daniel was waiting for you when you parked your car outside his apartment building, hand gripping his phone as he watched you step out of the vehicle. four years since he first let you go and one year since he last saw you and you look as beautiful as you ever were.

he shouldn’t have told you to come but he’s so exhausted from staying away, from waiting for the right time. there will never be a right time and tonight, he’s done holding back. he wants you, he always has and he no longer has the energy to stop himself from wanting you.

“i shouldn’t be here,” was the first thing you said as he opened the door for you.

a lazy, almost mocking smile covered his lips. “and yet here you are.”

you glared at him but daniel’s heart was soaring. it’s been so long since you were this close. he can smell the perfume that followed you and the scent of your shampoo. he’s so so tired, he just wanted to hold you.

he’s going to make this as hard as possible, you realize. you’re no longer a child, he doesn’t need to play nice and easy with you anymore. you’re a woman now and he’s going to treat you like one. but you just need to get over this. you need closure. you need to put him in the past where he truly belongs so you can go about your life. you need him out of your system.

daniel may be everything you wanted but it’s time to accept that he’ll never be what you need.

“why did you come?” you asked, wanting to get this over with as quickly as you can. three years pining for him in red bull and four years of longing for him and everything leads you here.

daniel cocked an eyebrow. he’s done with playing nice. “you invited me.”

okay, you walked right into that one. “you still shouldn’t have come.”

daniel wanted to laugh. “i guess we both like doing shit that we shouldn’t do. now the question is, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

“i’m getting married, daniel,” you whispered. “we need to accept that it isn’t us.”

“i thought you did that in abu dhabi.”

he’s being an asshole. “you’re the one who told me to leave. you don’t get to be mad that i’m moving on.”

“you’re not moving on,” he laughed, leaning against the wall.

you glared at him. “yes, i am. i’m getting married!”

he looked at you as though you said something hilarious and you wanted to punch him in the face for it. “and yet you’re here.”

“for closure.”

he stepped towards you and you found yourself holding your breath. from this close, you can see the freckles on your cheeks, the ones you used to spend all your time trying to memorize. the curve of his plump lips and the intensity in his eyes. and when he touched, it felt like the first drop of rain after a million years of dessert. his hand perfectly fitted on your hips, warm and so achingly familiar.

his hand snaked from your hip to your legs, finger light on your skin as he ever so slightly tugged at your shorts. you need to pull away but your body needs him closer. you want him. you want him to get closer. you want him to touch you more, to feel his skin against yours. you can have every single inch of his body pressed against yours and you’d still begged to get closer.

his lips graze your cheek before it reaches your ear, even breathes in contrast to your desperately shaky ones. “is that really what you want, baby?”

with every ounce of sanity you have left, you forced yourself to nod and you can feel the way his lips formed into a mocking smile against your cheek.

“really?” he mocked. “then why are you clutching my shirt like you want more?”

you hadn’t even realized the way your fist is holding on to his shirt, pulling him closer towards you like you’re terrified he’d disappear right between your fingertips.

“fuck,” you muttered, the heat of his skin against yours dizzying. james is nowhere near your mind as your hand slips under his shirt, self control flying out the window as you feel the curves of his abs. you want him. you’ve always wanted him so desperately that you’re willing to go to hell for it. “fuck me.”

he kissed you then, fire in his lips as it finally finally touched yours. this is all you’ve ever asked for and it’s worth the damnation you’d be paying in return. you pull him impossibly closer, going on your tiptoes. you need to get closer. closer, closer, closer.

like an addicted chainsmoker to cigarettes, you can’t get enough of his kiss. you want to inhale the fumes of his breath, of him, deep into your lungs. he tugs at your shirt and you pull away enough for him to get it off.

you grunt in complaint when he pulled away from you, only to swallow it back as his lips attached to the skin of your chest, licking and nibbling as it slowly made it way down.

“oh,” you breathe out as he lips attached to your breast, your fingers tugging at his curls as his tongue circled your nipple.

you should have stopped him the moment his hand unbuttoned your shorts but as he bent you over and his hand slipped between your folds and he trapped your moans with his mouth, you were far too gone. god be damned, morality be damned. you’d crawl through hell for this.

but eventually, reality comes knocking and morning comes and your bliss ends. you woke up from your phone ringing, cocooned in daniel’s arms.

“don’t answer it,” he mutters but sleepily, you grab your phone from the nightstand, seeing james’ name on your screen.

and that snaps you out of it, being reminded of what happened the night before and what you did and you all but jumped out of his arms as though his touch burned you.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you hurriedly put on your clothes, daniel watching you still naked from his place on the bed. you turned to him, “this never happened.”

you watched as anger slowly filled his eyes. “are you being serious right now?”

“i’m getting married, daniel!” you’re panicking now, screaming as your phone rings again.

“then why the fuck were you knocking on my door at two in the morning?”

you ignore him, gathering your things. “it was a mistake.”

he’s glaring at you now, looking like he wanted to start screaming. but he remains silent, only glaring as you gather your things and put on your clothes.

you look at him again, apologies and sorrow in your eyes. “i’m sorry but this isn’t me. this can’t be me.”

and then you left, not allowing yourself to look back as you ran to your car. maybe in a parallel universe or a different world, you sit next to each other at the kitchen table and go over the grocery list, but for all the universes and worlds there are, this one was not enough, not for now and not for you and daniel.

when you finally arrive home, your father is in the kitchen, eyeing you up as you walk past him. “where were you? james was looking for you.”

you grimace. there’s a knowing look in christian’s eyes as though whatever you reason he already knows will be a lie. and unfortunately, he’d be right. “i was out with friends.”

“at seven in the morning?” he narrowed his eyes and you hated his timing. of all times, did he have to question you now?

“breakfast.”

you all but run to your room before he can question you further, thanking all the gods that james isn’t there. for a moment, you stood stunned, reeling from the past twenty four hours as the guilt settles in your chest. you need to get as far away from daniel as you possibly can. you can’t be the type of woman who cheats on her fiance. you refuse to be. you refuse to break a good man’s heart like that.

and yet as you finally calm down enough to try and fix yourself, your phone buzzes, his name appearing on your screen saying he sent you a text message.

daniel i’ve loved you in every way i can. i loved you selfishly and so i tried loving you distantly, i tried loving you selflessly, i tried loving you correctly but i just want to love you now. if i could do it all over again, i would love you better but i can’t love you more than i do now.

this love came back to me

the wind is chilly as you step foot in hungary and the dress you wore is definitely not meant for it but still, you persevere, finding your way to the red bull motorhome and greeting your father. the last time you attended a grand prix was abu dhabi 2021 and yet it still feels like home.

“there’s my biggest fan!” max cheered the moment he saw you, immediately wrapping his arms around you. he hasn’t seen you for nearly a year and he missed his best friend. to be fair, no one has seen you for nearly a year, disappearing from the face of the earth after your failed engagement.

after the night of your engagement party, the guilt ate you alive as you realized that you were exactly the kind of girl you didn’t want to be and so you came clean to james. he screamed and cried and said you could work it out but you were exhausted from lying to yourself. as long as there was daniel, you can never be happy with anyone else and no man deserve to be someone you simply settled with.

you realized then that you’d lost yourself. you don’t know who you are, don’t know who you’ve become and so you left everything you know, ignoring everyone’s calls as you attempt to find yourself.

“actually, i’m supporting ferrari,” you joke once max finally lets you go.

“i’ll disown you!” your father screamed from across the garage, making you and max laugh.

“have you seen him?” max asked, whispering as though he’s telling you a secret.

you shake your head. coincidentally enough, or ironically, the first gp you attend in a while, daniel is announced to race in. and max, quite frankly, is far too excited for the two of you to see each other again. he’s had enough watching you both be stupid.

after catching up with max and the mechanics you still know, you find yourself in a cafe with your father, talking about everything and nothing at all. christian watched your every move and you can see the worry in his eyes. he’s part of the people you ran from and you know that it was a cruel thing to do to your father.

and then he was there and you’re all too familiar with the feeling of your world freezing the moment your eyes meet. he looks better, happier and you’re sure you look different too, hopefully more grown.

“you’re here,” he says, unbelieving.

you smile, genuine and free this time. “i’m here.”

and this time around, you were both tired of fighting it. it’s him. it’s always been him. there was no point denying it. he’s the only person you’ll ever want. you are totally and irrevocably in love with him – the kind of love that’s so intense it feels like an explosion of fireworks throughout your whole body. the love that leaves you sleepless but exhilarated, speechless but poetic, lost but exactly where you're meant to be.

and in that moment, your lives flashed before your eyes – marriage, children, growing old together.

daniel ricciardo is the defining moment, the collision of stars that slammed into you so hard it tore your heart in pieces and only he can put it back together again.

he smiles at you and you smile back.

hello, love, welcome home.

and finally, finally, it felt like the world isn’t burning anymore.

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papercorgiworld · 4 months

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Christmas saviours

Blaise, Draco, Enzo, Theo and Mattheo

A bit of an angsty beginning because of some Christmas loneliness, but you need not worry our most handsome Slytherins will save Christmas Eve with fluff and kisses.

Warning: only kisses and maybe some suggestiveness

Not proofread, feedback always welcome.

I planned on finishing another fic, but ended up writing Christmas fluff. I hope you enjoy it! I wish you all a wonderful Christmas and for those who don’t celebrate Christmas, I wish you a most wonderful day.

Christmas, you loved it! Every year you celebrated with your family and created some lovely memories. Although you knew this year would be different, you were confident that also this year you would manage to create wonderful memories.

You had only recently moved to the UK and this was your first year at Hogwarts. You were definitely the odd one out. Everyone in your year already knew each other for years and then there was you: new and permanently lost in the castle. You had made some friends, but also weren’t gonna win any popularity contests any time soon.

The news that your parents had to work this Christmas made your stomach turn and your heart physically hurt. However, you were already in the Christmas spirit so you were hopeful that you could still figure something out. You consoled your parents by telling them that it would be good to spend Christmas at Hogwarts to make friends.

And that was the plan. You invited everyone you had ever talked to at Hogwarts and also everyone from your year. And you learned a lot, like some people really need to learn how to say no in a polite way and most people go home for Christmas. Now Christmas eve was only a day away, two people had confirmed they were coming and there were two people left on your list who hadn’t responded. Possibly four people would show up, worst case scenario two.

Being hopeful and in full Christmas spirit you did your shopping, preparing everything for an unforgettable Christmas eve. On your way from Hogsmeade one of your invitees came running towards you. “Hey (y/n), so glad to catch.” You smiled brightly. “Here to help me with the groceries?” Your friend smiled. “Uhm, no, but I’ll help.” You’re pleased you can let go of some of the heavy bags. “I was actually looking for you, because I got great news, my parents made it back in time after all. So, me and my brother are leaving in half an hour. I'm really sorry we gotta miss out on your Christmas dinner.” Your smile fades, but you immediately force a fake one onto your lips.

Walking into the room of requirement you finally fall apart. You watch as Hogwarts conjures the most picturesque Christmas scene you’ve ever seen. Tears softly make their way down your cheeks, but you don’t sob, you try to ignore your misery. With shaky hands you put everything you bought in its designated spot. When you kneel down to set the four small Christmas gifts you bought under the tree you finally admit to yourself that you’ll be spending tomorrow evening alone, unwrapping your own gifts. After your moment of self pity you make your way down to your dorm.

The next morning you decide that there is still hope! Though the chances are slim, there’s still a chance one of the two who haven’t responded yet will show up or maybe both. You try and find them throughout the day, but fail. Around 5 you start dressing up. Around 6 you light the candles for your grand Christmas eve party.

Your heart twists and turns as it's hurting terribly, like it would rather stop beating than suffer another minute of agonizing loneliness. You stuff your face with delicious snacks. “What was I thinking? Like someone was gonna show up. I watched too many mushy Christmas movies. Christmas is overrated anyway! I’m turning into the grinch! Uh, I’m talking to myself! I’m going insane, might as well steal everyone’s Christmas next year.” You stop ranting and grab a plate, ready to start cleaning up and go to bed at 7.

Blaise

Suddenly the door opens and you stare in disbelief as Blaise Zabini walks in. “I was in the neighborhood, though I would stop by.” Like a deer caught in headlights you stand still. “Early? Aren’t I?” He looks around the empty room and continues. “If you want I can help you prepare.” You look down at your feet wondering what to say. “You look absolutely stunning, by the way.” “Thanks.” You put down the plate you were holding and manage to gather enough courage to be honest. “Everything is ready. And you’re not early. No one showed up.”

Blaise seems shocked by the news and makes his way around the table to you. “What? That’s horrible. All your effort.” His hands rest on your arms, giving you comfort. “I’ll live.” You say playing it down, but your glassy eyes betray you. “But why are you here? I expected everyone to be at their respective parties.” Blaise’s lips formed a line and you could see he was in deep thought for a second. “I am.” You looked confused at the Slytherin in front of you. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” You frowned and smiled at the same time. Happy with the news but not quite sure what to think about it.

“So… what’s for dinner?” You wanna question everything he’s doing, but his excitement distracts you and you start telling him about all that you had prepared. You two have a lovely dinner together. Blaise is his most charming self as he wants nothing more than to make you forget that no one else showed up. To any outsider it would look as if you two had planned to spend Christmas together. But you kept wondering why he was here. You had to ask. “Why were you in the neighborhood?” A lot of stutters escaped a normally always easy talker, which made you question whether he was in the neighborhood at all. “There was no reason for you to be here, was there?” Realizing it was pointless to come up with excuses, he confessed. “I know I told you I wasn’t coming to your party but I have a little something and that’s why I stopped by.”

You found his choice of words odd. “A little something? Like a gift?” Blaise thought for a moment. “No, not really. Stand up for me will ya?” He got up and you did the same as he requested. He signaled you to come closer and when you still stood too far away he gently tugged your hand until your chest almost met his. He smiled a little goofy and only after a moment did you realize he was nervous. Blaise reached for something in the inner pocket of his jacket. You watch him carefully pull out a branch of mistletoe. He held in between the two of you. “I brought mistletoe.” You laughed as he stated the obvious. “Isn’t it supposed to be above the person you wish to kiss?” He nodded and reached for his wand.

Casting Levioso made the branch float above the both of you. Blaise reached for both your hands and you in return took a step closer. You were now pressed against one another. “Merry Christmas, (y/n).” He leaned in. “Merry Christmas, Blaise.” You whispered against his lips before kissing him.

Draco

The door slams open and you’re shocked to see Draco Malfoy of all people. Is he lost? He looks around smugly, one hand in his pocket and a smirk on his face. “Quiet the party, new girl.” Gesturing towards the empty room. “Trust me the atmosfeer was great until you came in.” You immediately snapped back. He simply huffed and walked towards the table examining all the different dishes. “So where are you guests?” He asked sincerely but without looking up from the food. “I guess everyone had other parties to attend. Understandable.” Your voice was so soft and defeated it made Draco look up at you worried that you might start crying any moment.

He wasn’t really good at situations like these so he quickly made his way over to the drinks. “May I?” He asked politely, gesturing to a bottle of champagne. You nodded. “But it’s probably too cheap for your taste.” Draco gave the bottle one look, shrugged, and opened it anyway. “I’ve already had expensive champagne and cheap company today. Got bored. So I decided to come here for cheap champagne and better people.” You take the glass he offers you. “I’m sorry, it’s a ‘cheap champagne and no people’ kinda party.” He takes a rather large swing from the glass and looks at you with a softness you’ve never seen before. “I’ll take you and your cheap champagne over my family’s horrible Christmas party anytime. So, will you have me as your guest?” You nod with glittering eyes. You quickly explain all the different options your table offers.

He tastes everything and overflows you with compliments. His table manners are exquisite and he even teaches you some little details of fancy dining. But most of all you spent your time laughing at all the ridiculous parties his family organizes. It helps him vent and your laugh makes him heal, like it’s all alright now that you agree it’s just as absurd as he thinks it is. After you’ve finished dining you turn to the tree and the gifts underneath. “If you still have time I’ve got four gifts under the tree. It’s just little trinkets, but to leave them unopened just feels horrible.” The Slytherin stares at you with wide eyes as you make your way to the tree to pick up one of the gifts. When you turn around with a gift in your hands he gets up from his seat in a hurry. “I can’t stay.” Is all he says as he picks up his scarf.

“Just one gift.” Your voice is almost a whisper and Draco closes his eyes for a moment. “It’s just, I have nothing for you. I come barging in, eating all the food and now gifts, while I have nothing to give-“ “You showed up! You saved my Christmas. You’re like my hero.” Draco feels like he’s going to burst with emotion at your words. He… a hero, it made him feel like a whole different person. “Truth is, (y/n) you saved me and not just my Christmas, all of me.” Only now you realize how close together you are with only the gift between you two. He looks so fragile and that’s probably why you suddenly felt the courage and need to go in for a soft kiss. He was shocked for a moment with eyes wide, but surrendered to your warmth and kissed back, his hand reaching for the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

“Will you now open a gift?” You ask again when you break the kiss. He smiles sheepishly. “Yes, anything for my princess.”

Enzo

“I’m here!” You stare at energetic Berkshire as he comes through the door announcing his presence. “Might have nicked something fancy that might just save your Christmas.” He holds a bottle of expensive firewhisky up. “What are you doing here?” You asked, confused by his presence and enthusiasm. His smile softens and he puts the bottle down on the table. “I had a suspicion that the new girl’s Christmas party wasn’t going to be a great success.” You felt horrible hearing him say the obvious. He walked around the table towards you.

“I’m here to keep you company.” You huff at his offer. “I don’t need your pity. I’m sure you have plenty of other places to be.” Enzo grabs your hand as you try to turn away from him in an attempt to hide your misery. “You need my pity, this is a pitiful party.” You try to force your hand out of his grip but he has a surprisingly tight hold of you and you end up closer to him. “And also, there’s nothing for me at the other parties, because the cute new girl isn’t there.”

You look in his gentle eyes wondering if he really means it. “You want to spend Christmas eve with me?” You ask, almost afraid of the answer. He nods and an adorable smile tugs at your lips as you no longer can contain your happiness. During dinner Enzo catches you up on all the latest gossip. But after a while you get worried if people gossip this much at Hogwarts then for sure they will talk about your lame party. It’s this concern that leads you to ask for a favor. “Uhm. Enzo, about my party… could you not tell anybody. Like I can just say that I canceled it. I mean.. I really don’t want people figuring out about my lame Christmas party.”

“Can’t.” You stare at him as he swallows a bite of his desert. “If your party didn’t happen then where was I. I can’t have people thinking I was alone.” “But telling people you were at the new girl’s lame party won’t do your reputation any good either.” Enzo shakes his head and gets up from his seat opposite of you to take a seat next to you. “Darling, this is not a lame party. It’s a lovely party. We’ve got amazing decorations, delicious food, firewhisky, gifts under the tree and each other. Are you not happy?” You turn to him, feeling a bit embarrassed that you were so caught up with what people would think rather than when you think. “Of course, I was being stupid. This is a lovely Christmas, thank you Enzo.”

His smile turns cheeky. “Yeah, I kind of saved your Christmas eve. Didn’t I?” You nod and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, yes you definitely saved my evening.” Enzo licks his lips in a mischievous way. “A kiss on the cheek?! That's all a guy gets for saving Christmas?” You laugh at his dramatics. You fake a scoff and get up from your seat. “Enzo, have you no shame.” Suddenly he grabs you pulling you into his lap, a giggle escaping your lips. “No.” He states and wiggles his eyebrows. “Fine.” You kiss him softly and bite his lip softly while purposely pressing your chest against his, giving him more than he bargained for. The kiss deepens and his hand slips to your thighs resting there and gently squeezing. “I definitely know some guys who’re going to be jealous when they hear about this party.” “Shut up, Enzo.” You say playfully before kissing him again.

Theo

Theodore Nott? Unbelievable? To avoid any snarky comments you decide to diss yourself before he gets the chance. “Welcome to the most boring Christmas party ever.” Theodore simply snorts at your fake enthusiasm. “Pretty sure, I just came from the world’s most boring Christmas party.” You huff. “Wow, I suck even in organising lame parties.” Theo looks around. “Pretty sure this doesn’t qualify as a party.” You narrow your eyes, how does he manage to always have the last word.

“What are you doing here, Nott?” You ask as your frustration with Theo beats the sadness over your party. “If I remember correctly you said my Christmas enthusiasm was as overrated as my academic skills.” Theodore can’t help but roll his eyes. women and their need to remember every stupid thing he says. “Sounds like me, probably was me. But clearly I’m desperate… so, do you take in strays?” Your attitude disappears as you look at him, he was in his way sincerely asking if he could stay.

“Of course. You’re very welcome.” Your voice comes out with a little more doubt than planned, but Theo takes your welcome anyway. You both sit opposite of one another. “You must be really desperate if you came to my party?” You ask softly, no snarkiness in your tone. “You must be really desperate for a guest if you let me in, after all I’ve not been my kindest self around you.” You look at the food on your plate. “I’m really desperate, since obviously no one bothered to show up aside from you. But also I can see the humor in most of the insults you throw at me.” A warm smile appears on the slytherin’s face, feeling understood and a little less bad.

For the most part your evening is filled with humorous insults and snarky comments, but as time passes your rivalry ebbs away. The conversations get more serious and Theo almost exclusively has words of endearment for you. His softness envelopes you and your Christmas joy finds its way to Theodore. After lounging on the couch for a while you pull yourself back up. “Gifts? I’ve got four and they’re all for you.” He growls gutturally. “I don’t like gifts, plus I don’t have one for you.” You frown. “Who doesn’t like gifts? You absolute weirdo.” Theo laughs at your unfiltered opinion of him. He pushes himself to sit straight and watches you pick out the first gift. You don’t see how fragile he looks as he watches your gentleness.

When you go sit next to him and joyfully present him the gift he looks in your eyes. “Come on.” You urge like an impatient child. “Fine, but me first.” You frown and purse your lips. “You said you didn’t have anything.” Out of his pocket a fumbled piece of paper appears. “It’s not something I wanted to share, but it’s Christmas right, so why not.” He nonchalantly pushes it to you, waving the paper impatiently, like he wants to be rid of it. When you take it he looks away avoiding your confused gaze. You ignore his bizarre behavior and gently unfold the paper, revealing a sketch of you: you paying attention during class, probably transfigurations.

Theo’s still looking at anything but you. You shuffle closer to him and cup his cheek, turning his face to meet yours. “You drew this? I love it. Thank you.” “You’re a bit of a distraction during class. Probably why I’ve been picking on you.” A soft laugh rolls over your lips when you hear his confession. “And how do I distract you? As you can see all I do is pay attention like a good student.” You hold the sketch up to him as proof. “You do a lot more than that, (y/n). You get me thinking.” You can’t contain your smile. “I get you thinking? How awful of me.” He hisses at your mockery, but when he closes what little space there was between the two of you, your confidence fades. “You have me thinking about doing this” His lips catch yours, he kisses you with so much passion your whole body goes crazy for him in an instant. When he finally releases you, your head feels hazy. “What’s that all about?” Theo grins, enjoying the obvious effect he has on you. “This is my Christmas spirit, I’m feeling generous.” Is all he says before he pushes you to lay on the couch and continues to kiss you with unrelenting passion.

Mattheo

You hear noise at the door and turn to look at it slowly open. You hold your breath, still holding the plate as Mattheo Riddle walks in. Holding flowers in one hand and a gift bag in the other. He looks at you, but you just stare quietly and then he looks around the room. “Oh, I’m too late. I’m so sorry.”

Mattheo Riddle, Slyhterin bad boy, Slytherin trouble maker, son of the dark lord, most handsome guy in your year - maybe even all of Hogwarts - show up to your lame Christmas party with flowers and apologies. Weird. You had indeed invited him, when you announced that everyone was welcome during potions class but you were pretty sure he was among the people making fun of you.

You snapped out of your thoughts, someone was here, you were in no position to be picky about who it was. “No, you’re not late.” He looks confused at the empty seats. “Then where is everyone?” You look around feeling exposed, but look back up at his questioning face. You bite your lip, trying to think of a lame excuse but finding none. “Uhm, no one showed up, except for you.” You eventually manage to say, eyes getting glassy. Mattheo makes a soft ‘oh’ sound and you quickly try to get rid of the awkward situation.

“There’s plenty of food if you wanna stay. And also four gifts for you, since you know no one showed up.” Mattheo stays silent for a few seconds. “But you don’t have to stay, this probably isn’t your ideal Christmas eve.” The slytherin simply shrugs. “It’s not like I have anything better to do and the food looks divine.” You can’t help but chuckle as the awkwardness ebbs away. “Flowers for the hostess.” He offers you the lovely winter bouquet he had been holding. A blush creeps up to your cheeks as you take them and conjure a vase.

Dining together has you feeling like you’ve known Mattheo your whole life. You’re surprised by so many things he tells you, but most of all by how easy it is to talk to him. After the desert you make your way to the couch near the Christmas tree. With the table between the two of you gone things feel different and you both fall silent. “You were actually the last person I thought would show up and yet here we are. I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself so far. Because I definitely have.”

Mattheo stares at you fondly but doesn’t say anything. “Anyways let’s start with the gifts.” As you stand up to reach for one of the gifts Mattheo pulls you down. You now sit so close that your hips are touching and he’s still holding on to your wrist. “This whole evening has been wonderful. You’re wonderful, (y/n).” It sounds like a love confession and you hold your breath. “And at the risk of ruining this evening, I would like to kiss you. Is that okay with you?” Your heart melts, you can’t believe this and no one at Hogwarts will ever believe this. You nod softly, insecure about what you’re getting yourself into.

His hand holds your cheek and you lean in as his lips reach yours, light as a feather his lips brush yours. Ever so slowly Mattheo deepens the kiss, making you go crazy with desire for more. When you lay your hand on his leg for support he sees it as a signal that you are comfortable with him and snakes an arm behind you to pull you closer. Only when the kiss ends do you realize you’re laying in his arms. “When I said let's start with the gifts I didn’t know one of the gifts was wrapped up with a tie and good looks.” You joke as you undo his already loose tie. He smirks as he watches you all comfortable and confident in his arms.

His free hand reaches for your leg urging you come sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. He pulls you in for another tender kiss. “I did actually bring a gift for you. So if you really want to unwrap-“ You cut him off by slamming your lips into his with passion and eagerness. He complies and pulls you closer into him until there’s no space left. “And here I thought you were all innocent and cute.” Mattheo says, clearly entertained by your enthusiasm. “I’m, I’m just being a good hostess by making sure my one and only guest is having a good time.” Mattheo’s face lights up with genuine happiness. “No doubt you’re a good hostess, pretty sure you would make a wonderful girlfriend as well.”

#slytherin #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #blaise zabini imagine #draco malfoy imagine #theodore nott imagine #enzo berkshire imagine #mattheo riddle #papercorgiworldwritings

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findmeinforks · 10 months

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Not Letting You Go Easy - Paul Lahote x Fem!Reader

IM BACKKKKKKK!!! Wow I just checked my last fic and it's been TWO years. Does anyone even remember me? 🥹 I'm back on my twilight bs, this one is my longest ever! Let me know what you think! - 3.2K Words ❤️

*Second Person POV*

The sun poured on your face as you soaked in all the warmth it allowed. You missed the sun, watching the palm trees sway peacefully as the ocean tide rolls in. The goosebumps that arise on your skin as a strong breeze passes, the warmth blanketing back over them.

You keep your eyes shut as your mouth curls up in a smirk, listening faintly to your mom try and convince your sister to stay in Jacksonville. She could offer up the moon and all the stars...Bella would still choose Edward, every time. It's true that you were weary of the vampire, after she flew like a bat out of hell half way across the world to Italy to save him. But could you blame her?

If it wasn't for your sister stumbling her way into the supernatural world, it's possible you could have never met Paul. A blush crept up your cheeks as you crack a full smile, thinking back to the day you met the hot head.

There was absolutely zero hesitation when you followed behind Bella in the truck to go to Jacob's. You had been worried for weeks about your sister, who had been spiraling ever since she was ghosted a second time by someone she trusted. Not only did you care about your her, but Jacob too. He had been around your family for years, and this behavior...especially towards Bella...was concerning. So when she frantically barged in your room asking you to go with, you were out of the house in minutes.

You had taken off in a sprint to try and keep up with your sisters manic running towards the group of shirtless men in Jacob's backyard. You heard rumors of the so called "cult" that had formed in the recent weeks. Jacob's haircut and tattoo had confirmed that part. But seeing the others approach through his window, you knew this was going to be a bad idea. You barely had time to catch your breath before her hand came in contact with one of their faces. You let a gasp slip as you made it in time to yank her back by the elbow.

What had gotten into her!?

Not able to process why she would resort to slapping him in the first place, the man, who looked like a carbon copy of the other ones standing around, began to shake violently. The others were urging you both to get back while attempting to calm him down. Never in your life had you witnessed such immense anger. In seconds his shakes became tremors. It was as if he ripped apart, and in his place stood a massive grey wolf. Mirroring the emotions of the man before, the animal was growling, snarling at your sister with its teeth bared.

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You felt as if you were dreaming, blinking rapidly to make sure this was real. Not standing around to question the animal who could very well kill you, Bella grabbed your hand and you both booked it towards the house. The outburst must have woken Jacob, who was running towards the scene. Bellas blood curdling scream was telling him to go back, though he kept charging forward.

You both fell hands first onto the grass as Jacob launched over you both, shreds of clothes flying as yet another wolf emerged.

Now it was you who was shaking. The only thing that prevented you from having a panic attack was realizing that all the other men were calm, as if this happened all the time. You swallowed your fear as you accepted the hand of one of the younger men, who led you two back to the truck by the order of the oldest one.

As you walked into the cozy secluded home, your mind was running a million miles a minute. They were werewolves....as if after learning vampires existed wasnt a shock enough already.

The oldest one, fiancé, Emily, you had learned, helped ease some of the headache. Besides the scar she wore upon her face that made your stomach drop when you first saw her, she was the epitome of kindness. You could see when she was greeted by Sam that their love was far more deep rooted than the mark she wore. Only knowing her for an hour, you felt happy for the girl.

You vaguely registered Jacob returning, finally looking away from the couple when you heard an unfamiliar voice apologize to Bella. As he then turned your way, you both locked eyes. An electric current jolted through your body, through your veins as you held his stare. You felt a fuzzy warm feeling race its way all the way down to your toes. The feeling lasted what felt like forever, until Jacob's "no fucking way...." pulled you back to earth. It's as if you had been some other place. A place of immense happiness and love. You knew you looked as bright as a tomato when you realized all eyes were on the two of you, mortified they caught you staring.

You did a quick scan of the room, noticing they were paying more attention to the man rather than you, who, was still staring.

When you craned your neck to look at Bella behind you, you found relief in that she looked just as confused.

The man was slapped on the back by Embry, which snapped him out of his trance. He quietly introduced himself as Paul. You blushed hard when you quickly said your name back. As if to break the tension in the room, Jacob asked you both to go for a walk.

Before you left, you had sworn you heard Paul growl.

"Not now. She's been through too much today already." Sam lowly said to him. You furrowed your brows as you trailed behind your sister out of the house.

After a walk on the beach and many questions answered, you were able to take a deep breath. The world was getting scary for you, but Jacob seemed to ease your fears, promising he would always protect you both.

Before he dropped you both off at your house, he had mentioned going to a pack bonfire the following night. You couldn't help but get excited at the prospect of seeing Paul again. You both hadn't even spoke other than introductions, but there was some type of spark in your core when you both met.

Attempting to shove it away, you reminded yourself it was nothing but a crush.

You sat on a log by the fire, rubbing your hands together in front of it. Everyone was up gathering their food, but you were focused on the warmth as it was more than chilly outside. Nerves bubbled in you as Paul approached, asking to sit next to you. Your cheeks heated as he sat, only inches away.

"I just wanted to apologize about yesterday," he spoke, his voice gruff as he looked into the fire. "You could have gotten hurt and I let my anger get the best of me. I promise I'm not like that all the time, and I don't want you to be afraid of me."

Your heart melted at how softly he spoke. "It's really alright. My sister acts out of impulse, if you couldn't tell." This got him to laugh lightly. You laughed too, until a strong breeze made you break out into a shiver.

Paul immediately noticed, grabbing a blanket from the pile beside him. "Here," he said as he wrapped one around you. His warmth radiated off you as he had gotten closer to do so. Not even realizing what you were saying you spoke, "I bet your girlfriend never gets cold with you around." To your embarrassment but surprise he cracked a big smile. "I bet she would, if I had one." It was your turn to smile. "What about you?" You shook your head no as Paul let out a small breath that almost sounded like relief.

Before either of you could say something more, everyone gathered around the fire. The legends of the tribe had you captivated. So much history that you were never aware of, right under your nose. You could feel Paul glance at you every so often, gauging your reaction to everything that was said.

When the fire died down and Jacob's dad came to a stopping point, everyone quietly mingled until deciding to call it a night. You had talked to Paul the entire time, getting to know the basics. You had a lot more in common than you thought. The more you learned about him, the more you liked him. A lot. He followed you to Bella's truck, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I had a really good time tonight" you spoke softly, now inches away from his face. You were so close you could feel his breath.

"I did too. I hope this won't be the last time I see you?" he questioned.

You glanced past him to see Bella and Jacob making their way up the hill.

"With everything going on, everything that's happening...I have a feeling we won't be going away anytime soon."

Paul smiled.

This is the part where he'll kiss me, you think. Your heart beats fast in anticipation.

But Paul just stands there. Staring. He stood there so long that you cleared your throat awkwardly.

"I'll see you around Paul." You tried to hide the disappointment on your face as you climbed into the truck and shut the door. He had let you, still standing there for a moment before turning around to walk back to the house.

Tears welled up in your eyes. How foolish were you, to think that a guy like Paul Lahote would just sweep you off your feet? Sure, a kiss might be moving fast for the first night, but he didn't even give you his number. You analyzed everything you had said to each other. Nothing was even romantic, so why on earth would you think he liked you back? Pathetic.

Bella said goodbye to Jacob and got in the truck. One thing you loved most about your sister was that she knew you better than anyone else. And if there was one thing you hated, it was when people asked if you were upset. One look in your direction and she didn't say a word, starting the truck and driving off. She knew when you were ready to talk, you would.

*Paul's POV*

I turned around, watching the truck drive away, getting smaller and smaller in the distance. I was frozen in place.

What is wrong with me?

"Everything go okay?" Sam approached, clearly sensing my distress.

"I'm never like this with women, Sam. I should have kissed her, but I didn't. I stood there, right in front of her with my mouth open like a fucking fish. I-I've never felt this way-" I rambled on.

"Dude it's alright" Sam interrupted, "Did you tell her that she's your imprint?"

I sighed. "I didn't even get that far. I don't, I don't want her to feel forced to like me like that right away. I want to treat it like a normal relationship....but I think I went ahead and screwed it up anyways." I huffed.

Sam placed his hand on my shoulder. "Deep breathes. You didn't screw anything up, you just met her. You can tell her about the imprinting when you're comfortable....as far as the kiss, well, it's never too late." Sam held up keys to his vehicle, putting them in my hand. "Only if you need them." He slapped me on the shoulder, winking, as he walked back to where Emily was.

I watched him sneak up behind her, she giggled as he peppered kisses on the back of her neck. I knew what he was doing. And it was working, as I made my way towards his car.

*Back to Second Person POV*

You sniffled, taking a deep breath. You were done crying over this man. This man you had literally just met. So what if he didn't like you? There is a million other people out there. Why did you care so much?

A knock on the door interrupted your thoughts. Charlie was gone over night on a hunting trip and Bella was fast asleep.

Another knock. It was almost damn near midnight. As you slowly approached the door, bat in hand, you looked through the peep hole.

It was Paul.

You flung open the door, ready to ask him what the hell him problem was, when he lunged forward. Grabbing you by the face, he kissed you feverishly. Your heart pounded in your chest as you melted into the kiss, tongues dancing together in perfect harmony. One hand held you by the hair as the other grabbed you by the waist, pulling you impossibly closer. When you both needed to breathe you pulled away, Paul's hand held tightly so you couldn't go too far. He leaned his forehead against yours, panting.

"I am so sorry I didn't do this when you left. You, you make me nervous. It's a feeling I've never really had before. When you left I- I didn't want to let you go that easy. I'm sorry." He said.

You leaned in to kiss him once, slowly, softly. "I've been waiting for you to do that," you smiled. "There's a lot more where that came from...if you'll have me." he said, his hand sliding down to interlock with yours, bringing back up to place a gentle kiss on the top.

"I couldn't imagine anything better." you grinned.

*Paul's POV*

Y/N guided me to the couch, asking to stay awhile. We held each other until the sun came up, just talking. It was as if everything right there had changed for me. She would be my number one priority, to have and protect. I vowed to myself that I would do anything she asked, that I will love her no matter the cost. Whatever makes her happy.

I had to leave before Charlie got home, but not without a heated make out session at the door. It took everything in me to pull away from her, both of us lingering. Despite her not letting go either, I could see the bags under her eyes forming.

"Get some sleep baby, text me when you wake up okay?" She nodded, and after a good 20 minutes of more kissing, I left.

I understood why Sam was always mopey without Emily around. As I drove away I could feel my heart ache like something was missing. This was a whole new feeling, and for the first time I thanked whatever spirits gave me her.

My imprint.

I bit my lip as I remembered I still had to tell her. I'm worried about how she'll take it, but there was something heavier on my mind.

Victoria.

Part Two Anyone? :)

#paul lahote #imagine #sam uley #twilight #bella swan #new moon #embry call #eclipse #breaking dawn #quil ateara #emily young #wolfpack #jacob black #edward cullen #paul lahote x reader #paul lahote x you #fanfic

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themusingsofacurlyhairednerd · 3 months

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Datura

Summary: This was supposed to be a Rhysand x Reader Calanmai One Shot and boy oh boy did it spiral into a whole, multi chapter AU fic 🤷🏼‍♀️ It’s now a what if Rhys’s mate was someone other than Feyre and they both end up Under the Mountain together fic

Content Warnings: Eventual Smut, Some Suggestiveness because Rhys is here, I mean look at him everyone wants that male; canon typical violence, UTM. Each chapter will have listed content warnings.

Part Two is here

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“Stay inside, away from the windows. Make sure the doors are locked.” It’s the same speech every year, the same frantic, worried rant about staying away from those types of parties and the trouble they could bring. Never mind that you’re an adult, have been for awhile, and are perfectly capable of making the decision on your own and had decided years ago that Calanmai wasn’t really your scene. A party in a library sure, but an outdoor orgy in what was basically the High Lord of Spring’s backyard was about as opposite of you as you could get.

“I’ll be in the attic, organizing my books,” you swear and your uncle’s graying head bobs with a heavy sigh of relief as he shuts the door. Some of the livestock have gone missing--most likely the result of several visiting fae whose scene definitely is Calanmai--but he couldn’t make complaints to the High Lord until he was sure they hadn’t simply wandered out of the padlock on their own. He’s taking all three of the farmhands with him, leaving you alone in the house.

It would be a blissful couple of days. The house quiet. You plan to make tea and practice the new bread recipe you’d found tucked into one of your carefully preserved books from two centuries before. You’ve accumulated quite a collection of things in the years of your uncle’s ceaseless wandering. He’s never stayed anywhere long.

If you could focus on it, that is.

Calanmai might have never been your scene, but it did something to you every year you couldn’t explain. It had started a couple years ago; a strange whispering on the wind at first, a voice begging you to “Come. Come and see.” The next year, after being ignored the voice had come with phantom drum beats, an echo of the ones that would sometimes crest the hill between your farmhouse and the High Lord’s estate; the voice more urgent, the drum beats like a pulse in your skull. The following year the visions started. You’d go to sleep and find yourself drifting through the air, wings beating above you, shadowy hands holding you as you flew over the bonfires and beating drums, bodies writhing and merging beneath you, before depositing you in the darkness of what you could only describe as some sort of ancient cave. When you’d woken up you found yourself half way up the hill in your sleep clothes, unsure of how you’d even gotten out of the house. You’d never mentioned it to your uncle, he was prone to worry, but it was becoming clearer and clearer every year that there was something out there that wanted you out on Calanmai. True to form, you’d started hearing the drum beats upon waking this morning, their beat a steady pulse in your temples.

Still, whatever beckons, you're not interested in meeting. You’d seen a couple priestesses and gotten a sleeping tonic that would knock you out for the night, all you needed to do was pass the time until nightfall, take the tonic, and in the morning, all would be right again. Never mind the ache in your chest you’d feel in the morning, the blaring loss a living thing in your soul, as if your decision to stay away had torn something apart in you. It was a manageable wound, for your family’s sake. Memories of your parents had been hazy at best, it had always just been you and your mother’s brother. He’d said something had happened in your home court, that he’d had no other choice but to take you and run, never any other details. Your powers were a strange, unmanageable thing that prowled beneath your skin, a restless beast you couldn’t tie to any court to try and figure out where you’d come from. They weren’t seasonal, not ice or flame or wind; you’d imagined as a kid you’d gotten them in the Night Court, the darkness that sometimes sparked from your fingertips unruly enough to make it plausible, but there was nothing definitive. And your parents, for all the good things your uncle said about his sister, had never tried to find you, leaving all questions unanswered. Left you alone with your uncle and your constant moving with his job. He worked hard to make a life for the two of you, you owed it to him to not cause any trouble, to stay inside and cook and read and help him with his trading business as best you could. Whatever it was out there that beckoned, it was not worth seeing the pain on your uncle’s face. He’d escaped something, that much was clear, you would not damn him to something else, even for your own peace of mind.

This year feels different though, and you can’t deny it. The voice more urgent, the drum beats louder. You find yourself rubbing your temples, a headache building, as you try and fail to read the recipe in your hands. The words blur, a swirl of indistinguishable colors and shapes. You pinch you eyes closed, shake your head as if to clear the voice, trying again and again to make the words make sense, but the drums won’t stop beating.

You hurl the book across the room, knocking a picture off the wall, glass shattering on impact.

“Leave me alone!” You hiss at no one, teeth bared. Talons form at your fingertips, dark shadows whispering over your skin.

“Come. Come and see,” begs the voice.

You draw a breath, then another, and another until the shadows disappear and the talons retract. If you blow the roof off the house, like last time, you’ll have to move again. Beyond your uncle’s disappointment there’s the issue of… her. The war bands, the bogge, the Attor, always a threat looming over your travels, pushing you further and further away from busy cities, all enough on their own, but the Blight adds another layer. Your Uncle said the war she helped wage against the humans was devastating, but the one she could bring here? Sometimes you wonder if she’s the reason you move so much, as if your uncle has been trying in vain all these years to escape the war path closing in on Prythian. He’d never dare delve into the Human Lands, but Spring is one of the few places she has yet to ravish. You can’t risk another move.

You focus on controlling your breathing as you sweep up the glass, and leave the picture of you and your uncle on the table. You’ll find a new frame tomorrow, for today, it’s best if you take that sleeping tonic and avoid any further outbursts.

You make quick work of double checking the locks before changing into your sleep clothes and climbing into bed. It’s only just starting to get dark, the last few rays of sunlight fighting to break through your worn curtains. The priestesses didn’t mention how long it would take to work, or how long it would last, but the drums are still so loud, and the voice won’t stop pleading. It’s a nice voice, if your honest, but you can’t go out there. You won’t.

The vial in your hand is cold, the glass pitted like it’s been used before, it’s contents a bright blue color that glitters even in the darkness. You down it in one gulp, the taste like bursting, overripe fruit. The effects are immediate, you’re asleep before your head even hits the pillows.

The house is strange, twisted; the wooden walls thorny, gnarled like old tree trunks, the wind howling through the gaps of what used to be the windows. Fire light flickers through the gaps, casting shadows across the space as you stumble from the bed, bare legs caught in sheets suddenly made of vines.

It’s wrong, all wrong.

You stumble on legs that don’t quite work right down the stairs, slashing yours hands open on the thorns that had sprouted out of the railing alongside dark, night blooming flowers.

“Come. Come and see.”

The flowers bloom at the sound of the voice, the violets petals glowing in the darkness, leading you like wisps out the front door, now covered in vines and leaves. Disoriented, you follow the flowers out into the night, the stars dazzlingly bright overhead.

The world outside is not the one you know, the rolling hills now scorched and burned, the trees gnarled and twisted. Dark shapes with glowing eyes sit on the dying branches, starring only at you, some growling, others hissing.

There’s a single line of flowers, twisting away from the leering eyes and you race after them.

“Come. Come and see.”

You’re running before you know it, scooping up flowers as you go.

Something behind you still growls, it’s footsteps rattling the ground behind you. No matter where you look, you can’t see it, like it’s wholly veiled in the darkness. It has your heart pounding in your chest, the beat steady like drums. You push yourself faster, following the flowers over the ruined hills.

The flowers lead you into another wooded area, the trees still barely clinging to life here, their fallen leaves crunching under your bare feet. Branches tug at your shift, tearing the thin materiel, clawing at your exposed legs. Still, the thing behind you prowls closer, it’s breath hot as flame as it chases you.

The flowers wind around trees, deeper, deeper, into the dark, the only light the stars and the flowers; it’s your only chance at escaping. You push, going as fast as your legs can carry you, the drum beats of your heart still echoing in your ears. Soon enough the flowers direct you in a straight line, directly into the mouth of a cave. It feels wrong, going into a cave with some sort of beast snapping on your heels but what other choice do you have?

You reach the mouth of the cave, hand brushing the rough rock, gasping for breath. The darkness beyond beckons, “Come. Come and see,” but there are no flowers here. No stars to light the way, only the darkness of night and shadows.

The thing beyond you roars in challenge as you set one foot in…

You jerk awake like your soul is coming back into your body.

Maybe it is, because you’re not in your bed. There’s half a dozen cuts across your bare legs, staining the bottom of your torn shift, mud splattered across your legs. It feels like you’re wading through soup as you assess yourself, your mind muddled, unable to process where you got the glowing, violet flower in your hands. When you finally have the presence of mind to look up, you are in fact starring at the cavernous mouth of a cave you’ve never seen before.

Somewhere in the distance, the drums pound. Firelight dances among the treeline behind you. You’d gotten outside. On Calanmai. The tonic not only failed, it had left you so horribly vulnerable and queasy you were shaking. You need to get back home, back inside where it’s safe.

From somewhere in the shadows of the trees not far from you, a voice says, “I’m pretty sure I saw her go this way!”

Ice shoots through your veins, feet freezing in place.

The flower seems to warm in your hands, as if reminding you it was there, of the dream that had brought you here. You glance at the cave, the darkness beckoning. It might be a safe place to hide, if those voices are in fact looking for you. They are clearly male, and a few of them at that, and alone in a shift on Calanmai…

The cave might be a terrible spot, you’re pretty sure you had heard something about High Lords and caves, specifically on Calanmai, but the drowsy effect of the tonic has not entirely worn off, and with the voice drawing closer you don’t have time to try and remember what it was.

You step into the darkness, praying it isn’t the worst mistake of your life, and the darkness envelopes you like a caress. It’s almost as if it… moves, shadows and night itself twining around your legs, your arms, brushing along your spine with feather light touches. As if darkness is acquainting itself with the feel of you. You shiver, nervous, but the touch is not unwelcome.

Voices sound outside, but they are muffled, veiled.

Another step, then another, the flower still clutched in your hand blooms, glowing a little brighter. The scent of jasmine and citrus flows from it, fills all your senses.

The cave descends, the ground sloping a bit, and then you have to duck to follow the worn path. There should be loose rock along the path, but it is smooth, like sand beneath your bare feet, like someone had come along and swept out the debris. There’s nothing there to hinder your progress towards what you can only assume is the heart of the cave.

Perhaps this is all a part of your strange dream, that would certainly explain the flower, but what other choice do you have no but to keep going? From behind you, those voices from the woods sound again, as if they have stepped into the cave too.

“You’re sure she came in here?”

“Where else would she go out here?”

“Do you think Mistress will let us have a little fun before she gets her hands on her?”

Its that that makes you freeze, all thought eddying from your head.

The flower shrinks in your hand, the light dimming, even as the darkness of the cave twines itself around you, the caress like a cat rubbing against your legs, as if it’s trying to soothe you, calm you. You can’t move.

The sudden shift in the air of the cave is palpable. Goosebumps raise on your arms as the temperature drops, as the darkness deepens.

“What the fuck?” One of the men hisses.

And then the screaming starts, the blood curdling cries rattling the walls.

Still you can’t move, can’t see, can only stand there in the company of the shadow still rubbing soothing circles into your back while the earth trembles and dust rains down from the cave roof.

Just as quickly as the screaming starts, it stops, the only sound know the subtle drip of something wet hitting the floor. Your senses are sharp enough for you to scent the cooper tint of blood in the air, but even your keen senses can’t pick up what caused it. You can’t hear anything either, no footsteps, no fighting. It’s over.

You exhale a shaky breath, hands still trembling around the flower. Until it suddenly dies, the petals falling from your cupped hands. You’re strangely attached to it now, hands scrambling to catch the petals in the dark when that same glow appears around the bend in the cave.

Another flower, a way out!

You step towards it, not stopping to ask yourself why this one is smaller, so far away from the ground. Its not until you’re nearly upon it, nearly slamming into it, that you realize it’s not a flower at all. It doesn’t truly click into place until a firm set of hands grabs hold of you, stopping you from slamming right into the owner of that glowing set of violet eyes.

You might have screamed, were it not for the voice that says, “There you are, I’ve been looking for you.”

The world tilts before you as it clicks into place that you know that voice. It’s the one that called you out here.

#rhysand x reader #rhysand x reader smut #acotar #rhys acotar #acotar fanfic #acotar smut #fic series #my fanfic #my writings #utm!rhys #rhysand x reader angst #future hurt/comfort

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reiderwriter · 4 months

Note

Hey lovely! Hope you’re doing good! I was listening to bad idea right? By Olivia Rodrigo and thought it would be a good idea for a Spencer fic, was thinking something something with a little angst, smut and possibly a fluffy ending! ♥️

Ps love your writing 🖤

A/N: Most relatable song released this year, if we're being totally honest with ourselves, right 💀 I hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: (Munch Spencer Truthers, I'm throwing yourself another bone here), Oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation (male), slight hand job at the end, penetrative sex, cum play, etc. Minors DNI 18+

Your fling with Spencer Reid from the BAU ended abruptly when he fell off the face of the earth.

You weren't sure how someone who had described himself as technophobic had managed to perfect the art of ghosting someone, but boy had he, and you were still a little bit angry about it.

Even angrier when you saw him plastered over the local news out on a case, explaining to the people how fake tips to the FBI hindered cases more than helped them.

You were angry because he looked so good. His hair was shorter, displaying his all too pretty features prominently, and pissing you off to no end as you still felt your heart beat out of your chest until he'd disappeared into a crime scene again.

You brushed it off and berated yourself until the text came.

It wasn't much, just a quick hello, but you waited for a few minutes anyway to see if he'd say anything else.

When he didn't, you grew frustrated and text him a response.

“Who is this?”

It was petty, but four months of radio silence deserved less, in all honesty.

You weren't expecting the phone to vibrate out of your hand as you waited for a response, but it lit up with his call and you scrambled to wait enough time to pick it up.

“Hello.”

“Hi. It's Spencer. Spencer Reid. Doctor Spencer Reid, from the Behavioural Analysis Unit, this is Y/N right?”

“Yes, Spencer, it's me. My number didn't change after four months.”

“Okay, that was deserved.”

“Why are you calling Spencer?”

“Because I'm a burnt out child prodigy who didn't cure schizophrenia by age 25 and my friends missed my birthday. And because I really wanted to see you.”

The line went quiet as you contemplated what the hell you would say to that.

“It would be stupid to ask if you remembered my address, right?”

“Y/N, I remember what you taste like, and I'll never forget it.”

“Good. I'm locking the door in half an hour.” You didn't give him time to respond before exiting the call and running to your bathroom.

Maybe it wasn't the best idea entertaining a fling from months ago on a whim at 7pm on a Wednesday evening, but you had nothing else to be doing with your time.

It wasn't illegal for people to reconnect, and you were not going to mention this to any close or mutual friends of yours, so one conversation (or whatever this was) probably wouldn't have any consequences anyway.

Caution blown to the wind, you replaced your work clothes with a comfortable dress, fixed your hair and poured a glass of wine and waited.

As if on queue, 27 minutes later, Spencer was at your door. Or more accurately in your house.

Your threat to lock the doors had obviously spurred him on, and you heard the door handle twist as he stepped into the space.

“Spencer. How lovely, to what do I owe the honor?”

The adrenaline of making sure the door was unlocked had obviously worn off for him, as you saw him shift awkwardly in the doorway of your living room, sat comfortably on your couch, your skirt just riding high enough to distract.

“I was thinking. Well, I suppose the correct term would be overthinking. Emily had to snap me out of it, because I was kicking myself and doubting myself and worrying so much that we almost lost the unsub…”

“What I’m trying to say is I’ve regretted not doing too many things to think coming to beg you to kiss me again is a bad idea. It’s not a bad idea, right?”

“That depends, Spencer.” You replied, setting your glass of wine down and standing up. You took a wobbly step towards him, eager to blame your hesitancy on the wine rather than the things his gaze, his words and his simple presence was doing to your body.

“On if you only want a kiss.” Your hand gingerly slipped up his chest until it was hooked into his hair, exploring the shorter locks as he grabbed you by the waist.

“Or if you aren't satisfied with just that.”

“I can't seem to come up with an answer. Perhaps you should kiss me and it'll jog my memory.”

You finally cracked a smile, and saw his face instantly bloom into ot as well.

“Nu-uh Spencer. I think you have to take that chance this time.”

He hesitated only a second before his hands were cradling your face, tipping your chin up to him as he bent to kiss you. You immediately responded, letting your hands grab fistfuls of his shirt as you pulled each other closer.

It sent you off balance, but you let yourself follow the motion of you tipping backwards, letting him catch you as you began moving in the direction of your bed.

“Not a bad idea,” he mumbled between deep kisses, letting loose a stray moan when your hands trailed down to his belt and below. “Definitely not a bad idea.”

Somehow in the clash of lips and hands, you managed to make it back to your bed, his hands already managing to find themselves under your dress as his lips diverted your attention.

“Four months, Spencer.” You growled the words into his mouth as your tongues battled for dominance. “Four months without this. I thought I'd go insane.”

You felt him smile as he lifted you, and grinned too as you wrapped your legs around him just as he began climbing onto the bed, softly lowering you down until he was on top of you.

His tongue travelled down your neck, making his way back up towards your ear.

“I did go a bit insane, you know?”

His hands flipped up your skirt as he ground his dick against your crotch, pushing it up further until the bottoms of your breasts were peaking out of the scraps of material as well.

“Let me make it up to you?” It was phrased like a question he didn't care about the answer to, as he pushed off of you and completely rid your body of the material that was hindering it completely.

“That's better.” You swore you heard a sigh of contentment as he held your thighs apart and lowered his head, one kiss at a time, to your neglected pussy.

He hooked a ginger under your panties, and pushed them off to the side, but he'd never been the most patient, and he'd already spread your legs. He'd just work around the impediment, you knew.

And he did, starting with a casual flick of the tongue as he looked up at you from his place at your cunt, smiling at you as he began to feast.

You'd never thought of yourself as a pillow princess before Spencer, enjoying giving love as much as receiving but he gave you the perfect royal treatment, and enjoying it so much it was impossible to deny.

After getting so spoiled, it was a wonder that you even knew how to adapt to life without him, nothing compared to the care and attention he showed you in bed.

Your thoughts blended together as he pressed a finger into you, already sneaked with his spit and your wetness, collected from between his lips and your soaked cunt. His pace was steady, repetitive, and driving you fucking insane.

Never a demanding lover, before you would have simply let him enjoy his time between your legs, enjoying just how much he enjoyed it himself as he lapped up all of your juices.

But four months clean from your addiction to Spencer Reid and you were snapping.

Your hands gripped at his hair, pressing his face further into your cunt than he'd been before, enjoying the muffled moans and the sound of his tongue generously lapping up all you had to offer.

You started humping his mouth, holding his head still as you used him as a tool to get yourself off, finally cumming on his mouth with a shudder and an unfiltered moan.

It would've been embarrassing if it wa anyone else, just how loud you'd been for your ex-boyfriend.

“You taste the same.” He said, wiping the remainders of your cum from his lips as he stroked himself, having loosed his cock from his pants sometime between you moaning like a wanton whore and using his face as a sex toy.

A single glance at him over you pleasuring himself was enough to get you ready for round two.

He had sat up on his knees, head and torso tilted slightly back to give you a better view of his cock being pumped hard and fast.

“Spencer Reid, don't you dare make yourself cum.” You thought the words were joking, light even but even you were shocked by the sheer lust dripping from your throat.

Wrapping your legs around him again, you pulled yourself up into his lap, holding yourself still as you quickly unfastened each of his shirt buttons, pushing it away and chucking it so far that he wouldn't be able to use it to cover up anything else.

It took you a minute more to properly situate yourself, but soon you were sinking down onto his cock and allowing the stretch to rule your mind and movements for a minute.

You gently started riding him, letting each gasp and moan reach your ears and spur you on, not holding back on your side either, telling him just how good it felt to have him in you raw once again.

Your stamina wasn't great though especially after having had one powerful orgasm already, and your movements soon became sloppy.

He kissed you softly on the lips, and you let go of the tension in your body as he pushed you onto your back, made sure you were comfortable, and started beating his cock into you with such a force that you were sure the bed was going to break.

It was this intensity that you craved, this complete change from his insistence on putting you first so to speak, and then using you as a human sexton when it suited him, allowing his cock to push you to your limits and beyond.

It wasn't like you could protest anyway, mouth hanging limply open in a scream of pleasure as sparks shot up your spine.

Entertaining Spencer Reid was never a bad idea. You decided then and there that if he left you again for whatever reason, you'd hunt him to the ends of the earth and beg for another chance at this feeling of pleasure.

You came again, of course, not sure if it was his cock or his exploring hands that was tethering you to the moment as you died a little death.

His own orgasm wasn't far behind your own, but he'd always been a bit messy. You weren't surprised when he gave a small panicked moan, pulling out at the last second as his cum spurted out. You helped him ride it out, wrapping a hand around him to stroke him until his dick was drained, the contents sprayed across your chest and breasts, a single drop even making it to the side of your mouth, but that was quickly lapped up.

His aftercare was almost as good as his foreplay, as he took pains to wash you diligently, even as all you wished to do was sleep well into the night directly after feeling his hot cum pour onto you.

He'd gathered a wash cloth, fresh set of pyjamas and an extra blanket to cocoon you both in before you could even lift a finger, and climbed into bed before you could even think of asking if he was staying the night.

With the satisfaction of multiple orgasms finally catching you, you fell asleep in his arms, a grin plastered on your lips, his hands possessively surrounding you.

Needless to say, when you woke in the morning, he was still there.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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twola · 1 year

Note

Two words: messy blowjob.

Teehee, let’s go.

Also, s/o to @revolversandlace, who mentioned writing a possible 1k+ scene literally describing a blowjob, so obviously, I had to give it a try myself. 😉

Convalescence

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

Feelings are realized as you nurse Arthur back to health after his run-in with the O’Driscolls. Actions, however, are a bit limited during his convalescence.

Everything hurts. From the searing pain in his shoulder to the overall ache of his muscles, this definitely ranks as one of the most painful experiences of his life.

Regards sent to Colm O’Driscoll, of course.

He opens his eyes and a shadowed figure slowly comes into focus, a small, feminine frame seated on a stool next to his cot.

It’s you, but your normally tressed hair hangs limply in a ponytail, your eyes bloodshot and puffy, and it was obvious that you’ve been crying as his vision clears up.

“Wh- why are you cryin’ there, sweetheart?” He hoarsely whispers, voice rough from disuse.

You rub at your eyes, but it is mostly in vain as you can’t stem the flow of tears tracking down your cheeks. “When y-you fell off your horse when you came back, I-I thought you were d-dyin’.”

Your voice cracks on the last word.

Arthur frowns, “Sweet girl, I ain’t worth them tears. Save ‘em for a good man.”

“You - you’re such a fool,” You grit out, teeth clenching, “You - you are a good man. The best of them, Arthur Morgan.”

“C’mon now, darlin’. Stop your lyin’.”

“I’m not lying.” You move to sit on the side of the cot, hovering over him, “Why can’t you see what a good man you are? Why are you so blind to it?”

He remains silent. Silly girl. You haven’t seen what he can do - what he does - to other men. The blood on his hands. You’d be far less likely to be praising him, far less likely to be…

…leaning in closer to him.

A pang sears through Arthur’s chest, sharp as a whip, when he realizes you aren’t pulling away from him.

“You’re by far the best man I’ve ever known.”

“Reckon you haven’t known many men then, little miss.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, and in that moment, you lean completely over him and press your lips against his, a move he’s not completely surprised by.

His good arm, unburdened with the wound on his shoulder, winds around your shoulders as you press against his chest gently, still hovering so as not to put too much weight on him.

Arthur allows it all, from the first timid press of your lips on his to the far less timid pressing of your tongue, demanding entry into his mouth. He groans in response as he lets you in, and a mewl works its way up your throat.

It's only then, with you hovering inches above his chest, lips, and tongue working against his own, that he realizes that this is quickly turning into a predicament. Of course, it is, considering the view he’s gotten down the front of your blouse.

Someone, god, hopefully not you, stripped him of his bloody union suit, which probably did need to be burned, but failed to re-dress him. He was nude as the day he was born underneath the blankets, and it became increasingly clear as he felt his blood rushing toward his groin.

Of all the times to act like a damn teenage boy-

He cannot help the groan that wells up in him as you shift, the curve of your waist at the flare of your hip pressing against his own - pressing against his hardening member.

He internally curses when you slowly pull away.

But your eyes are lust-blown, a red blush settling on your cheeks.

“Darl-”

“Let me take care of you.” You say, slowly sitting up and reaching for the edge of the blanket with your small, thin fingers.

He wants to tell you to stop, that you don’t have to do this, that you don’t have to do anything, that he’s been smitten with you since you rode in half-starved and doe-eyed on the back of Davey’s horse all those months ago.

But silent he remains as you slowly draw the blanket down his body. Your nose crinkles as your lips turn downwards as inch by inch of his chest is revealed to you - bruises and lash marks and signs of the torture he received at Colm’s hand.

“Oh, Arthur.” You sigh sadly, eyes watering over again.

“ ‘m gonna be fine, sweetheart. Just a little uglier than usual.” He tries to lighten the mood with self-depreciation, but the deepening of your frown tells him that’s not working. You blink the tears collecting away and continue to pull the blanket downward, revealing his navel and the trail of dark, wiry hair leading downwards.

He sucks in a breath as the collecting fabric brushes against his ramrod-hard cock.

Finally, finally, your hand slowly pulls the blanket over his hips, first over the curls at the bottom of his pelvis, to expose his cock, leaking from the tip and laying heavily over his thigh.

You look back at him, and he’s wide-eyed, biting his lower lip, looking down at you hovering over his hips. You can see his chest expanding with his breathing, speeding up as he stares at you.

You lean down and Arthur’s good arm swings over his head to block his vision, because if he sees this, he’s sure to make embarrassing noises loud enough for the whole damn camp to hear.

He feels your small hand wrap around his cock, and he bites his lip not to make a sound as you gently pull it upright.

But he is not able to stifle the noise he makes when his cock is enveloped in something wet and warm - his arm flies upward and he cranes his head to watch you take him into your mouth. An embarrassingly needy whine escapes his mouth, but that’s better than the shout he wants to let out as you suck gently at the head, your tongue pressing against the weeping slit of his cock.

“Jesus Christ.”

You let go of the head of his cock with a pop, and he bucks up slightly, as if to follow your warmth as you look up at him.

“You alright? Need me to stop?” You ask, one hand still wrapped around his length.

“Oh, darlin’, please, please don’t ask me that.” His forearm slides across his eyes again as his other hand.

“So you want me to keep goin’?”

“Jesus fuck, of course.” He replies incredulously, flabbergasted that you could doubt this felt amazing.

You smile for a moment before turning back to his length, enveloping him once again in the velvet warmth of your mouth. His head hits the pillow as he loudly sucks in a breath.

You slowly, deliberately, work your way down his length, bobbing up and down, sucking on his skin gently as you take more and more of him into your mouth.

It feels like years you’re doing this, inch by inch of velvety skin warmed by your wet cavern.

Finally, you gag slightly as your nose touches the chestnut curls at the base of his cock, saliva dripping down from your lips and slowly running down toward his heavy, full testicles, and he has to actively clench the sides of the cot to stop himself from bucking upward.

“Oh, oh god, woman.” He mutters as you slide back up, fingers once again grasping the base of his length as you suck in a breath, looking up at him with a hint of a smile, your lips and chin shimmering with your spittle. His cock shines against the oil lamp’s yellowed light, absolutely dripping wet from your mouth.

You lean back down again, but instead of taking his length into your mouth, you run your tongue down its side, all the way down where you nuzzle against the globes at the base of his cock, gently sucking one into your mouth. He whines, whines, this gunslinger, this outlaw, this hardened mountain of muscle beneath you. All being torn apart as you suckle on him.

After several moments, you pull back, and he’s panting, chest heaving, a sheen of sweat developing over his clavicles, and the bandages wrapped tightly across his pectorals and shoulder.

Your thumb presses gently on the underside of his cock, and he closes his eyes and lets out a low, long moan. You smile, rubbing at his hip affectionately.

“Christ alive, woman, you’re killin’ me.”

“Ain’t done yet, Arthur.”

And with that, you resume, leaning down and retaking him, sucking harder than you have before, leaving him squirming beneath you.

You suck, and bob, you squeeze his balls and rub at his thighs. Lord almighty, he must have died at Colm’s hand - this had to be heaven.

The burning in his gut reaches a fever pitch, and he knows he’s not long to last.

He tries to sit up, but can’t with his shoulder bound, and finds that he just has to make enough noise to tell you to get off of him.

“Darl- darlin’, I’m gonna come- you- you need to move-”

His sentence goes unfinished as you look up at him, mouth full of his cock, and slowly, deliberately, slide all the way down, saliva dribbling out of your mouth again as the tip of his cock hits the back of your throat.

Arthur’s eyes go as wide as saucers, and he audibly swallows before his head hits the pillow once again. You slide up and down, sucking, tongue working around his length, the gentle suction of your mouth causing him to whimper.

He grunts, hands clenched around the wooden sides of the cot, hips moving despite his attempts not to. He is completely at your mercy - each lick and suck of his cock sends him further down that road of unabashed pleasure.

“Sweet- oh god, oh - fuck - I’m -” Arthur cannot finish his sentence before he trails off into a groan, his hips bucking up as you press down, and he shoots his spend down your throat, you pull back, gagging slightly, and as you sit up, Arthur can barely believe his eyes as he watches a dribble of his white, milky spend drip from the corner of your mouth. Christ, it makes him want to come again.

You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, clearing your throat, and pull the blanket up to Arthur’s chest once again, where he just looks at you, stupefied.

You cock an eyebrow at him as you slide up the side of the cot, sitting next to his chest. “You alright? That wasn-” You frown, “God, I hope that wasn’t bad.”

Arthur’s good hand grabs the collar of your shirt and yanks you down, where he presses his mouth to yours desperately, not caring at all that he can taste the bitter tang of himself on your tongue. You draw away after a moment, and Arthur tucks a strand of your hair that escaped its braid behind your ear.

“Woman, you’re the only one takin’ care of me from now on.”

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption #red dead fanfic #red dead fandom #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan smut #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #red dead smut #tumblr prompt #rdr #rdr2 fandom #arthur morgan rdr2 #voluptatem

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iovesia · 11 months

Text

✧ ˚ ༘ ⋆ 𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐁 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑.

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔. you've been warned of the infamous baba yaga, and his sadistic ways. and now, with him exacting revenge on the people who've wronged him, there's no one left to stop him from collecting his prize— you.

—⠀੭୧⠀warnings⠀· ˚ ༘⠀f!reader. dark!john wick. extremely dubious consent. large age gap. allusion to kidnapping. canon typical violence. size kink. man handling. p in v. creampie.

josie’s note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ the new and improved fic is finally here. i had to shape up and add a few scenes for my own sanity but it's finally here. please read the warnings, this is a dark fic. john is, like, slightly ooc here but it's fineee. and sidenote, this is my longest fic yet so.. — hope you enjoy ♡ !!

#. keanu reeves masterlist. | main masterlist. | request rules.

"IOSEF'S DEAD."

You look up in shock, eyes widening with disbelief. “What?” you murmured in a soft voice, barely audible in the almost otherwise silent room.

“John killed him,” your bodyguard, Andrei, said bluntly. You swallow the lump in your throat as you rest your head in your hands.

“I.. I guess he got what he wanted then,” Your voice was hoarse as thousands of thoughts clouded your mind. John Wick was on the warpath. With your boyfriend dead, along with half the mob, it was only a matter of time before Viggo was buried in the ground, too.

Nobody screws over John Wick, and lives.

Almost.

YOU WERE HASTILY ESCORTED back to the Continental at the hands of the remaining living bodyguards. Locked in your room, like a dog in a cage, you stared at the dark blue ceiling and let out a shaky sigh. Iosef was dead— not that it was particularly detrimental to you.

Many would have referred to you as eye candy on his arm, rather than a girlfriend. Showering you in lavish gifts, and showing you off to the other mobsters as his prized possession; and then tossing you back in a box when he was bored of playing with you.

The minutes felt like hours, and hours felt like days. John Wick was coming, that you knew. But for what was still the mystery. Under Viggo’s strict orders, he ordered a guard to stand posted at your door. While his son was an ignorant brat who hardly bothered to connect with you beyond mediocre sex, his father almost thought of you as a daughter. Daughter he wished he had.

Bored with counting the number of windows in the apartment across from your hotel room, you decided to take a shower to calm your nerves. The sound of the water pounding against the tiles drowned out the noise of the outside world. You closed your eyes and let the warmth envelop you.

“Iosef, maybe if you just apologised—”

“Are you crazy? Apologise? That is your big solution?!” The blonde haired prick snapped at you, eyes crazed with fear as he hurriedly searched for his gun. “Glupaya suka.. Try to apologise to John fucking Wick, you might as well just throw yourself to slaughter.”

“Fucking asshole,” you muttered to yourself, sharply exhaling.

YOU'VE ONLY HAD the pleasure of seeing the infamous Baba Yaga a handful of times, and meeting him only once.

Four years ago. At one of Viggo’s extravaganza’s, a place filled with all the blood thirstiest associates of New York city, you managed to snag yourself an invite to the event. Being Iosef’s newest ‘conquest’, freshly nineteen and completely new to the underworld syndicate; you were the pure soul among a sea of the damned.

“Who is that?” you whisper into Iosef’s ear, gesturing to Viggo and the circle of men around him. Iosef turns to look where you’re staring, and rolls his eyes at the sight.

“John Wick,” he answers with an unimpressed scoff. You don’t miss the way he holds your hand tighter when the infamous assassin turns his glance towards you two. His darkened stare pierced into yours, and you quickly look away. A feeling of warmth washed over your cheeks as Iosef began to walk towards the group, pulling your arm to follow him.

“Iosef! There you are!” Viggo exclaimed, gesturing towards his son and you. Although you were focused on the older man’s words, you couldn’t help but feel a gaze fixated on you. “My dear, I don’t believe you two have met,” Viggo’s words snap you out of the trance, and you turn your head to the side, taking in the notorious assassin up close. His tall frame clad in a sleek, dark suit that seemed to swallow up the light around him.

“This is-”

“Wick,” his low, gruff voice speaks as he reaches for your free hand, bringing it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. “John Wick.”

You try to contain the grin growing on your face by pulling your lower lip in between your teeth. You couldn’t ignore the sudden spark that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. You were enamoured by the mysterious man, and he’s said all of three words to you.

As the evening progressed, you constantly felt the older man’s eyes following you. Occasionally you turned your head to the side and would catch him facing directly at you, only intriguing you more. You and Iosef were just about to leave when you excused yourself to the restroom.

Being the unattentive, doe eyed little thing that you were, you gasped when your face bumped against a hard chest, making you jump back a little. Apologies spew from your lips as you glanced upwards to match the face to the toned figure— immediately shutting you up.

John towered over you, a few strands of his black locks hung in front of his face as he craned his neck down at you. In the narrow hallway to the restroom, you realised there wasn’t enough space to slide past him. Before you could say anything, a pair of hands hug your waist, and John gently turns you to the side, allowing himself to pass by you. Only for a brief moment did his skin meet yours— and how you wished he didn’t let go.

THE SOOTHING WARM WATER was now scorching your skin, as you switched the valve off. Wrapping the soft towel around your wet body, you exited the bathroom.

Standing in front of your dresser, you scavenged to find anything relatively nice looking. Maybe you weren’t allowed to leave the Continental, but surely you could at least mingle at the bar. With furrowed brows, you held two different tops to your chest, focused on your reflection.

Until your eyes met another pair in the mirror.

“What the—” your head whipped behind you, simultaneously dropping the pieces of clothes to the floor as you bumped back against the mirror. You were a deer frozen in headlights. Goosebumps flourishing on your still damp skin, the draft from the window sending chills down your spine.

You watched carefully, the pair of eyes revealing its owner as he arose from the shadows of your room, making your heart drop.

“Wick,” was nothing but a whisper when it fell from your mouth.

“H-How did you get in here?” your breath shallow and your palms began to sweat as you carefully moved to stand in front of your dresser, hands desperately reaching behind your back for anything that could be used as a weapon. John ignores your question, only to slowly creep closer to you.

“Andrei, help!” You cry out, the shrill in your voice echoing off the walls. John purses his lips, taking another menacing step towards you. “Andrei—”

“He’s not gonna help you, little lamb.”

“Andrei!” You continue screaming, praying at any moment he will barge through the doors to rescue you. Your gaze switching between the exit and the assassin in front of you, you contemplate making a run for it.

Stupidly enough, your feet pound against the wooden floor, and with frightened determination, you rush towards the door. Dodging the small nightstand, you nearly trip over your feet before a sudden tug on your towel whirls you back. With a loud yelp, your back collides with the floor and a pain shoots through your side— you can already picture the bruise forming.

“Tsk, you’re gonna have to be quicker than that,” he tuts, before grabbing a hold of both your forearms and lifting you up with ease, like a ragdoll. Your hands immediately reached for your slipping towel, which nearly exposed your breasts. Pulling them up, you silently prayed for anyone in the Continental to have heard the ruckus.

“Where’s Andrei?..” Your words come out in a hushed tone, almost as if you're speaking to yourself rather than to anyone else. “What did you do to him?”

“Not important,” he replies curtly.

“I-It’s against the rules, you couldn’t have killed him—”

“It’s also against the rules to steal another man’s car, and kill his fucking dog,” he sneers in your face, his warm breath hitting your face as you squeeze your eyes shut. The terror paralyzed you and your lips quivered, the sting in your eyes ever growing.

“Let me go! Please, I haven’t done anything,” you beg pathetically. John releases you from his grasp, pushing you towards the satin covered bed. You stumble, holding tightly onto your dirty towel for a source of comfort, cowering under his intense glare as he circled you. Like a predator about to devour his prey.

Like a lamb to the slaughter.

“Neither did Daisy,” he cocks a brow, pain seeping into his voice at the mention of his beloved pet. “Neither did Helen. Innocents get screwed over all the time, what’s one more?”

“Look, John. I’m really sorry for what happened—”

“You will be.”

Your eyes widened, and your throat went dry as you allowed the tears to brim your waterline. You gripped tightly at the top of your towel, holding it closer to you while you tried to maintain some dignity.

John approaches you, standing a mere few inches from your shuddering figure. Your breath hitched as his calloused hand reached for your face, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The assassin was towering over you, his cold eyes scanning over every inch of your body— making you all the more humiliated.

“It’s true what they say..” he mutters, his husky voice hitting your ears. “You really are the prettiest thing in New York.” His hand trailed down from your face, dragging along your shoulder blades, getting lower.. and lower… and low-

“What are you doing?” the words come out like a broken record player. If he planned to strangle you as a means to kill you— you prayed it would be quick. Your skin erupts in goosebumps, like a thousand tiny needles pricking at you, when John’s other hand connects with your side, steadily tugging the towel down.

“Looking at you. Touching you.” An eerie silence casted upon the room when the realisation dawned in. “You looked so beautiful that night. In that dress. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.. Thinking about you.”

His words make you shiver, and your legs clench.

“Wait!” you yelp when you feel him starting to pull the top of your towel down. John inhales sharply, his patience wearing thin. There you were, under his vice grip, pleading for his mercy with those big, bambi eyes of yours. With blood rushing to his cock, and your alluring body just begging for his touch— he could hardly wait any longer.

“Do as I say.”

And you did.

Slowly moving your arm down to your side, the other arm mimicking, the towel unravelled from your body, the quiet thud of it hitting the floor made you wince. You were now completely unravelled before him. Your nipples hardened at the cool wind, and the deep breaths you were taking only accentuated your collarbones. John could tear his gaze away even if he tried, wanting to drink in every inch of your angelic form.

Suddenly, an arm swings behind your knees, causing you to swoon backwards. The soft mattress of the bed hits your back, as John holds your knees up to your chest, putting your glistening cunt on display.

“Oh, you’re enjoying this,” John huffs, a sadistic gleam in his eyes, and you nearly gasp when he slides his index and middle finger in between your slit. Letting out an inaudible whimper as he plunges his fingers deep into your hole, you pull your lower lip in between your pearly teeth.

“J-John.. fuck.”

John, once again, ignores your mewls as he removes his fingers and grabs each knee with one hand to slowly push them apart. Heat blooming in your face, you were burning with humiliation. So vulnerable, so weak… and so wet.

Your heart beats pounding loudly in your chest, you don’t even hear his belt unbuckling or his pants hitting the floor. Through blurred vision, you gazed up into his dark irises, begging for him. To stop, or to keep going, you couldn’t tell anymore.

John leans down, his hand gliding up your torso before taking a handful of your breast as the pads of his fingers tug at your sensitive nipples. His lips collided with yours unexpectedly, his tongue darting between your lips.

“Wait. John, I can’t- you’re too big-”

“For four years… I’ve waited to finally touch you again,” he mutters against your lips, rubbing his cock up and down the entrance of your pussy, teasing you with his tip. “Ever since you showed up on his arm.” Jealous leaked into his gruff voice.

“It’s not gonna fit!” You protest. The sight of his cock between his legs sent chills down your spine.

“Beg me to be gentle.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, the familiar sensation of embarrassment burning in your veins. John was determined to make every moment of this as humiliating as possible, as he drank in every little expression on your pretty face.

“Please… please be gentle with me,” you managed to stammer out.

You let out a loud mewl as John thrusts gently into you, his cock stretching out your little cunt so deliciously. Your nails were desperately clinging to John’s forearms, leaving red crescent shapes. Your breasts bounced with each hard thrust, his cock penetrating deep, his tip kissing your cervix.

“Maybe you were right.” Your neck cranes up and you catch a glimpse of his cock entering in and out of you, the small bulge in your lower stomach. Before you could speak, another high pitched moan escapes your lips when John’s fingers meet your clit, rubbing firm circles. “Think he could fuck you like this?”

You vehemently shake your head, a choked sob caught in your throat when he slams hard into you. “N-No.. mmm, fuckkk!”

“What was that? Use your words, honey” John coos, his lips to your ear as his baritone voice sends chills down your spine. The combination of his digits rubbing against your bundle of nerves along with his deep, passionate thrusts had clouded your thoughts, your mouth hung open with only sinful moans coming out. “Who do you belong to?” he purrs.

“I asked you a question, sweet girl,” he suddenly stops his movements. Your back arches, craving more of his touch and begging for release.

“You! John! You!” You whine frantically, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. “Please don’t stop.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” John whispers, his large cock entering your gaping hole as your fluttering walls clench around him. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you felt your core tighten. John’s groans quietly in your ear as he continues pounding into you, his balls slapping against the swell of your ass. “My good girl. Cum for me, I want the whole hotel to hear you.”

With him still torturing your clit, you jolt at the sudden slap. “Oh— Oh my god, you, John. Y-You, only you—” your mindless babbling only made the assassin smirks deviously at your state. So dumb and cockdrunk off his dick— and only him.

The overwhelming wave of pleasure floods your body as you cream on his cock. John reaches his peak, and fills your pretty cunt with his cum and he removes his hand from your clit before gripping harshly at your hip.

You pant loudly, mind running in circles as you try to catch your breath. John’s cock stayed firmly inside you, his large hand caressing your cheek and trying to get your attention back on him.

“You did so well, little lamb,” was the last thing you heard before your eyes fluttered closed, too overwhelmed to keep your tired body awake. Not that John minded— with you fast asleep, it would make bringing you home a lot easier.

໒꒰ྀིྀི ੭ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵ ꒱ྀི੭ — taglist : @desoolate @hamburgerslippers @alwaysinblck @emosludge @nwheregirl @beansricejc @sughcashsaiki @namjoons-crabssss @scream-queen-25 @slutforsoldierboy @hamburgerslippers @redhotelroom.

let me know if anyone wishes to be added/removed. ∗ ୧ ‧ ₊ ˚

#dark.josie #nsfw.josie #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john wick imagine #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick

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