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laneywrld · 8 months ago

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things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part one

word count: 9.2k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

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

"Do you ever get tired?"

Lewis turns his head to look at her inquisitively.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What's cooler than an old lady?

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

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

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

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

"Do I know you?" Lewis questions confidently.

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

She surely doesn't recognize him.

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

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

"Yes, for the last four years."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And the rest was history.

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

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

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

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

"Do you ever get tired?" He ricochets.

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

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

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

"Do you feel like you have enough glory?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You sure do have a way with words."

"I try."

Silence falls over that pair again until she breaks it.

"Do you think I'm annoying?"

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

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

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

"No, not really."

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

"Yes."

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

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

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

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

"Okay."

"We can start now?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Naturally, Lewis opens up to Clementine.

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

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

"What have you lost?"

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

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

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

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

"Have you heard from him since?"

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

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

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

"I'm sorry." Lewis solaces.

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

"I pride you on your gracefulness, truly."

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

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

"Shit."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clementine was actually so fucking cool.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Probably here."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clementine chuckles, shaking her head at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In fact, she was fine with it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You have been celebrating?"

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

Lewis nods, "Yeah, of course."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I touched down today after qualifying."

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

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

"Early flight tomorrow, then?" Clem asks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lewis smirked, nodding his head. "Deal."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" Lewis murmurs, watching her grin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thank you." Lewis grins.

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

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

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

"Shower?"

"With you?" She wonders.

"If you're okay with that."

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

Much cleaning hadn't gone down in the shower.

clementine

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

clementine the best week, the most perfect week.

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lewishamilton Amazing movie 🙌🏽 such a deep message.

tchalamet And she's done it again people.

badgalriri Such a beautiful film, queen. ❤️

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"About a week."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- 🍊

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

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

Clementine Russell, he thinks, the woman you are.

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

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

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prettyflyforawhitelie · 10 months ago

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Hi! Drunk Husk confession please! Maybe he doesn't remember the next day and his crush flirts with him and he gets all flustered and stutters so she shuts him up with a kiss 😚 and tells him that she feels the same way he does. Thank you!!

Ahh this is so cute! I love this!

Pairing: Husk x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol

Word count: 1910

Authors note: I actually quite like this one, but if you were looking for anything different just message me and let me know! This was very roughly proofread, so apologies for any mistakes.

A Drunk Mind Speaks a Sober Heart - Husk x Reader

Ever since you decided to give redemption a shot and stay at the Hazbin Hotel, you quickly learned which of your fellow roommates (hotel-mates?) you could have the most fun with. Charlie was always cheery and go-lucky, but good luck trying to get her to do just about anything that would jeopardize the hotel’s reputation of a sin-free environment. Vaggie wasn’t exactly one for going out (or even hanging around with any of you, except for Charlie, of course), so she was off the table. Alastor was… well, Alastor was creepy as Hell, so even if he did want to go out, you would have a sneaking suspicion that he was planning something more sinister. Sir Pentious could go both ways. He always rejected going out, but if you managed to drag him to a bar and he got drunk, it was actually the funniest thing ever. Nobody ever invited Niffty out because… God knows what would happen if she escaped your line of sight.

This left Angel and Husk. Angel always knew how to have a good time, but after learning of the abuse that he has to endure during work, you realized that his constant drinking and partying was just a way for him to cope with his trauma. Feeling awful for him, it left you mostly turning to Husk whenever you wanted to have some fun.

At first glance, Husk was kind of a prick. He always seemed uninterested with anything that anybody had to say, constantly complaining every time he was forced to do one of Charlie’s eccentric “bonding exercises”. But you’ve had enough late nights at the bar to know that if you really got to know him, Husk was a sweetheart. He was fiercely protective of his friends and gave excellent advice, never turning you away when you've had a shitty day and just need to talk.

When you first arrived at the hotel, you were so very grateful for the free lodging, but still felt like you were isolated from the already-established friend circles of the group. At the end of the day, though, Husk, however standoff-ish he wants to appear, never turned you down for a drink and a good conversation. As embarrassing as it is to admit… you think you've developed quite an attraction towards him. Not only was he a great listener and the only person who seemed to give a damn about what you had to say, but he was adorable, too. The way his wings flapped slightly when he laughed, the little ear-twitches he gets when he’s startled, everything. Out of all the sinners in Hell, he seemed like the only guy that still had a bit of humanity left in him.

This is the driving factor that left you sitting at his bar, still striking conversation with him through the early hours of the morning, almost every night. Tonight was no different, either.

Walking to the bar and taking what you have now claimed as “your stool”, you don't see Husk doing his normal barkeeping chores. In fact, you don't see him at all. That is, until he bursts through the main door of the hotel carrying some crates filled with bottles of a green-looking drink. You rush over to him to lighten his load, a sigh of relief escaping his mouth. As you both reach the bar and set down the crates, you ask,

“So… what’s this?”

As he unloads the bottles from the crates to the bar, he responds,

“Apparently some good shit! I struck a deal with the owner of the club down there, apparently their bar is the only place that sells it, until now! Cost me a pretty penny, but it's supposed to have you seeing stars after only a couple glasses. Wanna give it a try? Shit, I think we’ve got ourselves enough to last until we all get redeemed!”

“Sure, why not.” you reply.

I mean, it’s not often that anything exciting happens in Hell, and this was the closest to an “exciting” experience that you’ll get for a while. When he finished unloading the crates, he placed two glasses on the bar and filled them to the brim with the green liquid.

“Absinthe, it looks like. Hopefully Charlie won't be too pissed, at least it'll bring more drunks like you and I into this shithole” he says and laughs.

While he immediately downs his glass, cringing at the taste, you smell it suspiciously.

“Are you sure this is safe? I mean, you bought it from a club owner you’ve never met.” you ask. “Doll, what the Hell’s gonna happen? We're gonna double die?”

Well, he has a point. Plugging your nose, you sip from the glass, suppressing a small gag. This better be worth it.

While carrying on your normal random conversations, you noticed Husk slowly becoming more unkempt and loud. This was a very odd sight, as he could hold his liquor like nobody's business. To be fair, though, he had downed about 3 glasses in the past hour. You were still working on your first. If this stuff is as strong as he said it was, he may genuinely be wasted right now. You could not only tell this from his progressively increasing volume, but also from the topics that he was talking about. Normally, he preferred being the listening ear, the shoulder to cry on. He did chime in every now and then, but nothing intensely personal. But tonight, he seemed ready to tell you just about anything. While you guys were on the topic of money, you were quickly brought to the topic of gambling.

“So, you've talked about all the gambling you did when you were alive… but I don't think I've ever seen you gamble, or, Hell, even play a card game. What happened?” you ask.

As you ask this question, you can see something change in Husk’s look. Did you say something wrong?

“I- I dont wanna talk about it.” he manages to hiccup out.

“What, didya lose that bad?” you chuckle. “Must've been a ton of money if you're still this upset.” you say.

He looks into the distance, fixating on anything but the current conversation. You weren't used to him actually avoiding conversation like this.

“Oh, um… Look, I’m sorry if I said something-”

“Don’t apologize.” he cuts you off. “I figure I should tell you anyway.”

“Tell me what?” you ask.

“I quit gambling because, well -” he hesitates, thinking of the right words to say without dropping the entire mood of the room.

“I- I used to be an overlord.”

Huh? What?! Husk? The drunk bartender… used to be an overlord?

“Really?” you ask. “I have - so many questions. But… but why did that force you to quit gambling?”

“Well, you could say that I relied on luck for much of my power. I would collect souls and gamble them away to increase my status among the other overlords. That was until… that was until I met him.” he motions to the Radio Demon’s room.

“Alastor?” you ask.

“He made me an offer that was too enticing to refuse. If I won, he would grant me power beyond my wildest dreams - all the souls I could possibly make use of.”

“And if you lost?” you wonder.

“He - He would get my soul.”

Realization hits when you see where this conversation is leading to. So Alastor… owned Husk? No wonder he seemed miserable! Suddenly, you felt bad for all the times you ran to complain to him and ask for advice, poor thing was probably dealing with enough of his own trauma.

“Oh, Husk. I- I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s okay Doll. What's done is done, no use in dwelling over it now.” he sighs.

“Besides,” he says, “he can have my soul. I think the only thing that still gets me through every day is knowing I have a heart. That’s what really matters. So, it doesn't matter who has my soul, but who I can trust with my heart.”

Wow. Wasted Husk is… insightful? Sweet? You had never heard him become so open about his backstory, his emotions.

“That’s…sweet, Husk. I hope that you know that you can always trust me, with your heart and anything else.”

He blushes at your words, smiling. “Y/N, you already have my heart. You’ve had it since the very first day you walked into this hotel. Ever since you first spoke to me, I’ve had something to look forward to at the end of the day. You give me a reason to actually enjoy this shit hole. Thank you, y’know, for being here.”

There’s no way he just said that! Does Husk… like you too?! Taking this pure honesty as a sign of his obvious inebriation, you take away his fourth glass from him.

“Alright, mister, I think it’s time we both head to bed. We’ve got a long day of ‘trust exercises’ to look forward you” you say while taking his hand and guiding his stumbling body to his room. As you lead him to his door and part ways from him, you swear you could hear him say something under his breath.

“I love you, Y/N”

********************THE NEXT MORNING…********************

When you awoke from your deep slumber, you could hear the voices of essentially everyone else in the lobby. As you leave your room to greet them, you see everybody but Husk.

“Where’s Husk?” you ask.

“Maybe the bitch finally got up and left like he always says he’s going to!” Angel replies, laughing.

You roll your eyes, going back into the hallway and knocking on Husk’s door. When you hear no reply, you peek into his room. He’s passed out on his bed, not even underneath the covers. Damn, I guess that stuff really is strong. You slowly approach his bed and stroke his head, softly saying,

“Husk! It’s time to get up. If we aren't out for Charlie’s exercises she may just kill us.”

He groans, slowly opening his eyes, clearly flustered that you are in his room and seeing him like this.

“Oh Satan, uh, yeah, I guess it is that time.” he mumbles.

As you move to leave his room, you turn back.

“Hey, Husk. I really appreciate what you said last night. I don't know if I made it clear, but… I’m glad you told me.”

He blinks slowly at you, clearly confused.

“Wh- What did I say last night?” he says, internally panicking. If he drunkenly confessed to you, he will literally crumble into a ball right here.

“Y’know, that stuff about me being the only one who has your heart, the one who makes ‘this shit hole’ bearable?”

His eyes widened. He could literally die of embarrassment right here, right now.

“Oh my Satan I didn’t mean to say that - I mean, I did, but just not in that way - you really don't have to say that you feel the sa-” Husk is cut off by your lips meeting with his in a sweet embrace, one that he never wants to leave.

“Husk. It’s okay. I… I feel the same way. I’m so glad you told me, whether in a drunken rant or not.” you giggle, leading him by the hand out of his room. Whatever faced you today would be bearable simply because you knew that at the end of the day, you will always have Husker.

#husk x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #husk oneshot #hazbin hotel husk #husker hazbin hotel #husk fluff #husk x reader oneshot #charlie morningstar #niffty #sir pentious #vaggie #alastor #helluva boss #angel dust #confession

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ladythornofrivia · 8 months ago

Text

🍒 The Devil’s Tongue 🍒

Michael Gavey x Reader (PART TWO)

summary: you transferred into Oxford after moving out from your country for a better change, and unexpectedly meeting Michael Gavey in a quiet library, leads to something more.

warnings: creepy vibes from michael gavey, reader being oblivious, stalking, michael being horny, p in v sex, loss of virginity, jealousy, misunderstandings, obsession, belt kink, panty kink, scent kink, voice kink, breeding kink, michael gavey being a smartass, michael gavey is horny for math, michael gavey is a smartass, clueless reader, nerdy yet hot michael, lust at first sight, sex in the library, sex on the table, kitchen sex, oral sex, cam girl, fingering, sex during tutoring session, reader teasing, reader being a dominatrix in bed, food porn.

a/n: i got sick from the trip. oops. enjoy the new chapter! oh, and the one where the reader is being shoved out of the elevator, that one is a true story, by the way. I was being shoved out of the elevator by this guy I met at the cruise—all because I didn’t give him the attention. not only that i got stood up twice--one on the hangout, the other on my 27th birthday. and he thinks it's weird that i like hotd and said ewan mitchell looks weird. good thing i don't have to see him again.

Somehow, to think you met up with Michael Gavey again in the library, now that Oliver Quick is gone. By gone, Oliver might have gotten bored of Michael Gavey, you assumed.

There was a party last night, and you didn’t attend. Not that you’re too good or above for the party; you just hated the noise at the moment. You wanted a different kind of ambience to set the mood. Needless to say, you earned a lot of cash on that night.

With moonlighting as a camgirl, things have gotten easier. If you haven’t left your parents, things would’ve been worse if they found out.

Despite the cruel years, it became a simple memory.

Sitting beside you, Michael offered another crunchie--delicious as always. It's a good pair with hot cup of joe to pair with the sweet chocolate. Although you learned that Michael hated coffee, he'd rather prefer tea, a tea that tasted bland to you. You needed something strong--Starbucks would've been great, but a coffee from Oxford? You can't pass up to try the flavor of coffee from another country you've set yourself in.

Missing the opportunity would be as stupid--all opportunities have been unlocked, all thanks to you being as a famous camgirl. My, oh my, you are moonlighting as a naughty girl in bed time--no parents constantly sneaking in being nosy as hell. You did lie to them--half-lie--by claiming that you have been acting nuts at night--doing all the prayers and bible study sessions, which is a total fucking lie.

You never liked bible studies or prayers before Sundays. It's a hassling lifestyle to live in--to live so virtuously while shaming everyone's lifestyle who aren't religious.

People with an aspect of a pretentious goody-two-shoes was the last thing you need. Oliver Quick is a goody two-shoes; the boy obsessed with math has caught your eye, plain and simple. A bit eccentric, but sexually frustrated, as you guessed before the moment your eyes met his baby blues.

Three weeks later, the magical aspect of Oxford hasn't begun.

"Crunchie," a voice said, tingling your skin and poked at one side of your waist with a slight tickle.

Beside you, Michael Gavey showed up with a slight grin on his face, oddly satisfied this morning.

Who the hell smiles in the morning?

"Not an early riser, I see," he commented.

His pleasant tone prickled in between your thighs.

"Oh yeah, fine and dandy--needed a cup of coffee," you said, grouchy. "I was studying all night--got the assignment wrong."

"What kind of assignment?"

"It's, um, it's an English essay," you lied, pen twirled between your agitated fingers. "This professor is really getting on my nerves when it comes to the essay. Acting all superior and shit--telling me I keep getting my annotations wrong and that I misinterpreted the meaning of the symbolism and theme in the story. I hate pretentious professors like that. No matter where I go, some things never change. They always have favoritism, it's fucking weird."

Michael chuckled. "Perhaps you have been partying?"

"Partying? Please, I needed peace and quiet for some alone time to concentrate on my studies. If I want to have a good future, I had to have at least a C or B. I fucked up bad."

Seems like the lie went smoothly as always.

"So, have you been at the party last night? Sneaking in since you didn't get your invite?" you asked.

Michael placed his hand over his cheek, nearly covering his lips. "I stayed in my dorm."

"Ah, doing math homework, I assume? Anything math related? Science into the mix, maybe."

Michael stayed quiet.

"I'm not really into math. I thought it's confusing," you commented.

Michael chortled. "Perhaps I could tutor you this afternoon. Usually I don't like teaching the numbing idiots of the subject matter. One guy was staring at the girl’s tits while doing times tables. Times tables! Need them to fuck off and do something valuable for once!”

You stopped what you're doing and glanced at him. And it clicked an idea into your head.

“Am I also the numbing idiot?”

He shook his head. “You might be, if you are. These knuckleheads at the library, all they’ve done useless flirting, not studying.”

“That’s what library is for, Michael. To study. No harm in a little flirting.”

Come to think of it, Michael at the library with you sounds nice.

He smiled a little, though not in a friendly way.

"Sure," you said, eating the half crunchie. "Why not? Teach me, so I could get better grades. Life is already hard enough as it is. So got any crunchy to start the session? It will take a while.”

~~~

For the past an hour or two, Michael tutored you. Although as excruciating painful to hear numbers and equations with letters, you couldn’t help but to stare at the cute nerd. Ah, a cutely frustrated nerd, maybe. His curlish dirty blond hair, thick framed glasses and his smile when he talks about math, these thoughts never spare you freedom. You are trapped, trapped by thirst that needed to be quenched.

With your cherry-red boots and skirt and a rosy pink lace top, you opt to show your cleavage by tucking your mini top downward, crossing your legs, coiled your apetite. With your hair flip, or hair twirls, biting your red lips, you were hoping Michael would give a comment or two, but tutoring was his priority, but since you wanted his attention, asking questions about math and equations would definitely keep him on his seat. His eyes on you.

His cute nerdy glasses. His cheeky and toothy smile.

Masturbating seems to be an option, but what happens if that option is no longer helpful? You wanted an alternative approach.

Maybe masturbating in public would be nice, but you’re smarter than that.

But each time you attempt to flirt, he seemed clueless. But he did at one point had a crush on a news anchor. And so your mind mentally made an account.

Dear Diary,

Michael Gavey didn’t notice me. How the hell am I supposed to get his oblivious attention on me? I hope I don’t die as a lonely virgin. I’m a bad bitch; I just want to fuck him so badly, watching his glasses fog up and lips soak at my aching pussy, whimpering underneath me and my dominance.

Then it clicked you.

However, you knew right away of this information when he liked watching news—the news anchor. Although she has a kid, the green envy seared and punctured your belly.

Maturity is what men and guys want.

Though it didn’t stop you from chasing Michael’s attention. Days gone by when you try a different style. That is until you met this guy, a popular guy, who’s name you not care—who complimented and dubbed you as “the hottest girl in campus.”

An idea conjured; if you practice with a guy, maybe it would be easier to make the first move on Michael. Thus, you went along with his flirting, but at the end of the night, you felt sure you were ready, until he took you out in the hall, and make out with you. But you didn’t care, you didn’t want to kiss the dude, you wanted to kiss Michael.

You felt nothing in his erotic moves.

When he tried to get into your underwear, you shoved his hands away. Thus, the little adventure with the guy, and ended up shoving you out of the elevator.

It was a pathetic night.

Nonetheless, your camgirl starts within an hour or two—took a shower and dressed up as a sexy office worker, with fake smart glasses with your tight office shirt loosened two buttons for your cleavage to show, with pencil skirt and stockings and red bottom heels.

On the cam session, did a little roleplay, and with feral thirst, legs spread apart, ripping your stockings and reveal your wet pussy. At the thought of Michael, his face, his voice, two fingers inserted in your cunt, as your hips formed a gyration, moaning aloud.

Michael…

You nearly screamed his name, but your climax came quicker.

All the comments flooded in, and more cash has stocked into your bank account.

You wondered if chasing Michael was even worth it. Hopefully one of these days, he’ll finally notice you.

~~~

Michael shoved in a few cash onto your new stream. Dressing up as a news anchor or an office lady, he found himself turned on, how your skin was gleaming with arousal, office glasses crooked from humping and gyrating, grinding your hips in fast pace like a feral beast that you hid beneath all the girlish and cherry red clothing, a clothing that outlined your perfect hips and perfect waist.

A horny devil.

He pretended his hand is your hand, your mouth, your throbbing, wet cunt, tightened around his bulging cock. The way he fisted his cock so much he couldn’t stand watching you flirting with that stupid boy.

Michael had a plan and he couldn’t wait to be inside you, but the question is…

When?

Taglist: @toodlesxcuddles @kittendoll05 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @angeljcca @marvelescvpe @heavenly1927 @snh96 @fandom-maniac-anime @httpsmenace @domithebomi @moonseye @faesspace @halsteadstyles @liannafae @ammo23 @buccini555 @watercolorskyy @taangie @qardasngan @justyelena @jolixtreesunn @thought--bubble @dixie-elocin @galactict3a @momowhoo @saturnssrings @dani5216 @kimsubin05 @blackgaladriel @theboleyngirlx @elaratyrell @fun-loving-peach @jmliebert @ilikechocolatemilkh @20thcentwriter @sepherinaspoppies @venmondiese @snowprincesa1 @parttimegay @lcolumbia1988 @witchy-v1xen @1800-fight-me @fan-goddess @persephonerinyes @anukulee

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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago

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Hi!! I hope you’re well !! Thank you so much for keeping the Jaimie Tartt community well fed like I will forever be in your debt you’re amazing‼️‼️ My humble request is in honor of SNTV:) My favorite songs are Enchanted and Sparks Fly so maybe a complicated angsty start up to a fluffy love confession (like they just haven’t gotten the timing right until now or they were friends and then something happens to her). IDK anyway sorry for the word vomit and thank you bunches for all your hard work!!

I loved this request!! Also sorry, all my fics seem to be ending the same way this days😬 But we keep getting to the ending in new and exciting ways so hopefully no one cares! Enjoy!

wonderstruck

You knew the moment you met Keeley Jones that your friendship was going to be a wild ride. You were still in uni, and had picked up a one-off job as one extra on a commercial shoot. The pay wasn’t bad (hey, it was extra money) and you were willing to sacrifice a Saturday for it. Keeley was one of the frontrunners for the commercial, all big hair and wild makeup. You had bumped into her by chance at the food table, started talking, and the rest was history. One random job turned into a solid four years of friendship. It was a funny dynamic between you and Keeley, because she was both older sister and antagonizer. She liked to pull you out of your comfort zone, taking you to clubs, parties, events, whatever as her plus one. Well, until she started dating a prick footballer named Jamie Tartt.

You didn’t meet him while they were together. You’d already known Keeley for two and a half years at that point, and understood she had shit taste in men. You weren’t afraid to tell her that to her face and she’d just laugh and say, “I know babes, but it’s right fun, innit?”

You’d laugh and shake your head, then go back to carefully painting her nails in the brightest, sparkliest colors imaginable.

Keeley was really, really good for you.

She called you the night she broke up with Jamie, and you came over to her house with a giant bottle of champagne only to find her and another woman, a Rebecca Welton, already proper tipsy and giggling on the floor. They were still dolled up from that night’s benefit while you were in pajamas, but you didn’t let that stop you. You downed half a bottle while Keeley and Rebecca cheered. You were glad Keeley had dumped that awful, cheating, self-absorbed prick. She deserved so much better.

You were glad when she started dating Roy Kent. He was a lot more down-to-earth than she was, and they were a good balance for each other. You wondered if Keeley gravitated toward those of a more serious nature in the same way you were drawn to those who were more spontaneous.

Post-uni, you had started your own business. It was kind of a random venture, something you had begun for a friend, but then it took off. You made the most outrageous, eccentric day-to-day dresses, taking a simple pattern then transforming it with wild patterns, tulle, and the occasional sparkle. Keeley, angel that she was, modeled some of them and put them on her instagram. And just like that, you were selling out.

It was absolutely insane, but you were able to spend the week making two dresses and then turn over a nice profit. You felt like you were overcharging but Keeley said, “Babe, if you’re selling out, you might be undercharging.”

All that to say, life with Keeley Jones as your friend was absolutely magical. You’d do anything for her. Including going to a fucking benefit as her plus one.

—

“Why can’t you just take Roy?”

“Roy’s already got his own invite. He’s a coach, so he has to be there even though he’s going to fucking hate it.” Keeley laughs. She thinks Roy’s grumpiness is endearing.

“Alright, why’d you get a plus one then? It doesn’t make sense, Keels,” you counter.

Keeley refuses to meet your eyes. “It’s entirely possible that Rebecca gave me one so that you’d come.”

“Keeleyyy,” you groan.

She shoves your shoulder playfully. “She knew if she sent you a direct invite you wouldn’t go, and she said she’d let us meet up at her house to get ready together! C’mon babes, it’s going to be so much fun and we’ll look sooo fucking fit walking the red carpet together, yeah?”

She gives you her widest puppy-dog eyes, lower lip pushing out. You sigh.

“Fucking fine. Fine. But you’re coming with me to pick out a dress. And you’re buying my coffee.”

Keeley cheers and tackles you in a hug. “You won’t regret it, I swear. Worst case you can just bitch about it with Roy the next day.” You laugh. You and Roy bitch about a lot of things together.

—

The red carpet is absolutely terrifying. It’s louder than you would have thought and the flashes from the camera are giving you a headache.

“How the hell do you do this?” you ask Keeley through a smile.

She laughs for the cameras. “Loads of practice, babe,” she replies in a perfect pose. “Now look at me and laugh at something I said.”

You’re almost done and the paps are asking for a photo of Keeley and Roy, so you wait off to the side near the entrance for them. You crane your neck to try to find Rebecca, to no avail. You do however catch the eye of someone with a very nice fashion sense and very, very blue eyes. He gives you a once-over and grins. You blush and turn back to Keeley and Roy who have finished and are making their way over to you. Keeley grabs your hand and says, “Hi Jamie!” while Roy rolls his eyes. Jamie says, “Hey Keeley,” and nods to Roy. “Grandad.”

“Fuck you,” Roy replies, and you’re surprised at the borderline affectionate tone he’s using. Especially considering Jamie is Keeley’s ex. He’s not really what you would have expected, but you don’t have time to dwell on that because Keeley’s dragging you inside the benefit venue.

—

Jamie is sitting at the same table as you.

Correction: he’s sitting right fucking next to you and it’s all you can do to avoid eye contact with him. You had introduced yourself to him with a barely suppressed grimace and steeled yourself for a long, misogyny-filled night.

You were so tense that Keeley put her hand on your knee and said, “I’ve got to go reapply my lipliner, d’you want to come with?”

You got up and followed her, feeling far too exposed in your backless, purple-sequined dress.

“Alright babe, what gives?” she asks once you’ve made it to the bathroom. “You’re wound up so tight I could stick coal up your ass and get a diamond.”

That makes you crack a smile and you shrug. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

Keeley shakes her head. “Don’t you fucking lie to me, I’ve had four years of practice knowing exactly when you’re telling me a fib.”

“Who’s fibbing?” Rebecca says, walking in the door. “I saw Keeley drag you in here, and I didn’t want to miss out on some girl talk.”

“Oh thank god you’re here,” you say, relieved. “I’ve been looking for you for the past hour and couldn’t find you.”

Rebecca self-consciously smooths her hair. “I’ve been- busy,” she says. “But this isn’t about me. What are you fibbing about?”

You look between Rebecca and Keeley then deflate. “I have to sit next to Jamie Tartt.”

Keeley and Rebecca share a look. “I don’t see what that’s such a bad thing,” Rebecca says.

You look at her in disbelief. “Jamie Tartt? The biggest prick in all of London, and quite possibly all of England? Cheated on Keeley multiple times and all-around arsehole?”

Keeley grimaces. “Yeah, not one of his finer points in life.”

“See?” you say. “He’s the fucking worst!” Rebecca and Keeley share another look.

“Stop fucking doing that,” you say. “What?”

“Darling,” Rebecca says gently, “he’s changed.”

You’re not buying it, a sentiment that is evident in your expression.

“It’s true, babes,” Keeley affirms. “And look, I’d probably be the fucking last person to say it. But he has! He’s loads better than he used to be, an absolute sweetheart. Even Roy loves him.”

You snort.

“Okay, maybe love is a strong word,” Keeley amends. “But he likes him! Roy said Jamie’s the best player on the team, and possibly one of the best in the country!”

You’re still not buying it.

“Listen,” Rebecca says. “Give him one hour free of bias. Forget who he was and give him a chance. You might be surprised.”

You look to Keeley, unsure. It is her ex, after all.

To your surprise, she’s smiling and nodding. “Go for it,” she says. “You never know what could happen.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you and you laugh. Only Keeley Jones could try to pawn her ex off on her best friend with the confident assurance that he’s a better man now. You know she’s not lying, or at least she believes Jamie’s changed. You’re not sure what to believe, but you’ll take Rebecca’s advice and give Jamie one hour to change your mind.

—

You’re not in your seat two seconds before Jamie starts talking to you.

“Why d’you look so nervous love? I don’t bite.” He grins. “Much.”

You catch yourself before you grimace and instead say, “This whole thing isn’t really my scene. It’s a lot of people I don’t know, and I’m only here ‘cause Keels asked me to be her plus one.”

Jamie still has that obnoxious grin on his face. “What does Roy think about you stealing his girlfriend? Can’t imagine he’d take it lying down.”

You glance over at Keeley and Roy. His arm is around the back of her chair and she’s leaning into him ever so slightly.

You say, “I’ve been here longer than he has, so if anyone’s stolen her, it’s him,” and you watch the pieces click into place in Jamie’s head.

“Shit,” he says. “You’re the best friend. Shoulda known when you told me your name.”

You shrug.

“Makes sense,” he continues. “I wondered why you weren’t fuckin’ beside yourself to be sitting by the fittest bloke in the room.”

You roll your eyes, hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

He pulls his chair a little closer and looks at you again with those perfect blue eyes. “Seriously, I am sorry. I was a prick. It took Keeley breaking up with me for me to start gettin’ my head out of me arse.” Jamie’s words back up what Keeley and Rebecca told you. You’re not entirely ready to brush his past under the rug, but tell him that it seems like he did a right proper job of it, which makes him laugh.

“Do you really think you’re the fittest guy in here?” you ask.

Jamie gestures to the room. “Look around, babe. I ain’t lying.”

You laugh, and the tension dispels. You’ve 55 minutes to go, and then you can go back to hating him. For now, you’ll let him keep cracking jokes.

—

The hour is up, but you’re still talking to Jamie. You don’t stop to consider why he’s still talking to you (maybe because he can’t stand the idea of anyone hating him) but he is. It’s actually enjoyable, so when he asks you to accompany him to the dance floor, you look to Keeley for approval instead of outright rejecting him.

Keeley says, “Go on babe, I’m gonna try to convince this one to get out there for at least one dance,” and Roy says, “Fuck no.”

You let Jamie take your hand as he promises, “No funny business, I swear,” and you just laugh.

You laugh through three songs because Jamie has a way of making you giggle. He swings you around and executes all kinds of moves that you’re sure you could never replicate, but you assume that being a Premier League footballer means he’s got to be coordinated. Makes sense that he can dance.

The fourth song is a slow one, so you move to leave the dance floor but Jamie catches your hand.

“Stay,” he says. “I’m having a really great time with you.”

You feel Keeley kick the bottom of your shoe from where she’s swaying with her arms around Roy’s neck.

It makes you stumble a little, just enough for Jamie to have to catch you. He grins. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

He puts your hands around his neck and his on your waist. It’s a soft touch, but you can feel sparks shooting up your hipbones.

You’re absolutely fucked.

Jamie doesn’t say a single thing, just sways along with the soft music and gazes into your eyes. You can’t look away no matter how hard you try.

The song ends and you let go of Jamie. He slides a hand up you waist and down your arm, lifts your hand to his lips, and kisses your inner wrist.

Before you can form a coherent thought, he’s gone.

Rebecca and Keeley are on you in a moment.

“You’re both coming to mine,” Rebecca says. “You have time to go home and get pajamas, but I’m getting out of here as soon as I can. I just made sure my pantry was restocked.”

—

It’s 2am. Rebecca and Keeley have successfully gotten you to admit that you like Jamie.

Against all odds, you like him.

Fuck.

“You’re sure it’s not weird?” you ask Keeley as you pace around Rebecca’s bedroom.

“For the millionth time, babe,” she says, “I really don’t. I think you two would be fucking adorable together.”

Rebecca nods in agreement. “I’m on Keeley’s side on this one. Jamie used to be a right little shit, but he’s really turned it around. And could you please stop wearing a hole in my rug? It’s giving me anxiety.”

You abruptly stop and plop down on the bed. “What if he doesn’t like me? What if he was only trying to make me not hate him because I’m Keeley’s best friend?”

Rebecca makes an offended noise so you amend: “Sorry, one of Keeley’s best friends?”

“Listen,” Keeley says making her way to your spot on the end of the bed. She holds your arms. “I know Jamie. He was fucking interested. And he hasn’t been that way in a while. You should just fucking go for it.”

“I don’t know,” you say slowly. Rebecca and Keeley groan and flop back onto the bed.

“You’re absolutely hopeless,” Rebecca says, but it’s laced with affection. You grin.

“That’s why you love me.”

—

You don’t sleep. Keeley is sandwiched between you and Rebecca on Rebecca’s absolutely massive bed, and all you can think about is Jamie’s blue eyes and the sparks of electricity you felt wherever he touched you.

You can still feel the kiss on your wrist.

—

It rains for three days and you refuse to go to Nelson Road. Keeley’s out sick anyway, and Rebecca is busy with work. You are too, working on a commission in electric blue. It’s very cozy inside your flat, soft music playing as the rain plinks on your roof. You’re wearing your good sweats, the ones that match and don’t have stains. Your hair is freshly clean and pulled back in a clip and there’s a pot of tea on the stove.

Your heartbeat has not been normal since dancing with Jamie. It’s beating in an irregular pattern, horrendously out of sync with the calming sound of rain. You can’t get it to calm down so you decide to indulge and replay your entire interaction with Jamie, as a treat.

You’re just thinking about his hands on your waist and letting your mind wander to where else you think they should go, when there’s a knock on the door. You frown.

That’s odd. Who on earth could be at your door at 7pm on a Monday in pouring rain? You pad across the living room to the door and open it to find a very wet Jamie.

“Hi,” he says, and then he’s pulling you onto the porch and kissing you in the pouring rain.

You’re soaked through to the bone, but you don’t care. All you can feel is Jamie’s hair as you run your fingers through and his lips on yours as they devour you. It’s straight out of a movie.

You shiver, and Jamie breaks away.

“Got your address from Keeley,” he says. “She’s the one who told me to come here. Can we go inside?”

You nod mutely and let him in. “Aren’t you cold?” you ask.

He just laughs. “Nah babe, I run hot. You look right fucking freezing, though. Good thing I’m here, I’ll help you warm right up.”

You’re really starting to shiver. “You should get out of those clothes,” you say through chattering teeth.

“Could say the same about you,” Jamie replies. “Where’s your bedroom at?”

You all but drag him up the stairs to your room.

You think you’re going to kill Keeley for telling Jamie you liked him, but then you’re flat on your back, bare skin pressing into the duvet as Jamie Tartt presses hot kisses up your neck, and you forget all about her.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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dark-frosted-heart · 4 months ago

Text

Roger Barel Main Route - Blind Love Epilogue

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

nsfw, minors dni

A season had passed since I decided to continue being Roger’s exclusive Fairytale Keeper.

Kate: Lately, Roger’s been acting strange.

Victor: Roger’s always acting strange, so that's normal!

William: Yes, since he’s also Crown, he’s an eccentric who wears a mask of decency. Completely normal

While I told the two about my worries during a tea party, they just smiled gracefully as they sipped from their teacups.

When I raised my shoulders, William chuckled.

William: Heh, sorry. Victor and I are happy that we get to spend some time with you.

Victor: Yes, since you’re always with Roger. This time we have is valuable, and we’re enjoying it.

Kate: Thank you, William, Victor. I’m enjoying my time with you two as well.

Victor: So…What do you mean by “strange”?

Kate: Roger’s always been very into his research, but recently, he’s been a little too into it…

~~ Flashback ~~

Kate: Roger, it’s almost midnight. Are you not heading to bed soon?

Roger: Hmm, nah. I’m fine, you go on ahead. Good night, Kate.

Kate: Roger, why not take a break since you’ve been working all day? How about some good beer…

Roger: I’m on a roll right now. Save me a beer.

~~ End flashback ~~

Kate: …Stuff like that.

Victor: It definitely is strange for him to refuse his favorite beer!

Kate: Right?!

After he and Victor exchanged glances and nodded at each other, William’s smile widened.

William: You’re feeling discontent that your lover’s paying more attention to his research than you, aren’t you? You’re so adorable.

Kate: That’s! That’s right… While I do want his attention, I’m more concerned about his health since he hasn’t taken a break…

Roger’s lifespan’s already been cut short because of his research.

That’s why I want him to live longer, even if it’s just for a second.

I want us to live together for as long as possible.

Victor: Kate’s right, he shouldn’t be reckless. However, sometimes working hard’s what makes you feel alive and brightens life up. From my perspective, Roger appears livelier than ever. Moreover…The reason why Roger’s been so into his research—I believe it’s to do with his relationship with you.

Kate: With me…?

Victor: I definitely don’t know for sure. That’s something you’ll have to ask Roger.

(...Victor and WIlliam are right)

Roger and I had gone through a lot before we became lovers, and we’re here now because we’d talk to each other every time.

Kate: Thank you, Victor, William. I’ll go ask Roger.

After Kate scampered out of the room like a dog, William narrowed his eyes.

William: You’re as good of a liar as ever. You know what Roger’s been “doing”.

Victor: I do. Despite being human, that man is likely trying to step into the domain of the gods.

William: You got them to stay together, expecting some sort of unpredictable reaction. Was this the outcome you expected?

Victor: It was more freeing and groundbreaking that I expected—I find it amusing.

William: …You really are evil.

(—I made up my mind to talk to Roger)

If I approached it the same way as usual, he’d turn me away again.

Jude: Move, you’re in my way.

Kate: Ah, Jude. Good timing. I have a question.

Jude: Do ya have selective hearing for stuff that’s inconvenient?

Kate: How do you talk to someone about something when they’re always finding ways to avoid it?

Jude: *sigh* Gotta take their freedom and interrogate. Ya can also restrain ‘em, threaten ‘em, or use sleeping pills to cloud their judgment.

Kate: I’d rather not do something extreme, but I’d probably get turned away again if I don’t. I think Alfons has some sleeping pills that are safe to use. Thanks Jude!

Jude: …O_O The hell is she doin’ that to.

Alfons shared some sleeping pills.

That night, I dropped them into water and gave it to Roger after his bath.

—But when he drank the water, he frowned…

Roger: This water tastes funny…It tastes like…sleeping pills.

Kate: What?!

Roger: Yep. I know what most drugs smell and taste like. Should’ve put them in something with a stronger taste if you wanted to trick me.

Kate: Then why did you drink it all…?

Roger: Thought it’d be fun to play along.

Roger smirked and looked at me leisurely.

Roger: Suppose I got about 30 minutes before I conk out. Better tell me what you’re up to now.

(...Since he’s already seen through me, I’ll have to tell him everything)

I first told him about how I tried to trap him so that we could talk properly.

Kate: I’m really sorry for trying something as stupid as that sneak attack…!

Roger: …Pfft, heh…

Kate: …Roger?

Roger: Nothing. Just didn’t expect you to use sleeping pills. You’re turning more into my type.

The way he happily ruffled my hair made any feelings of regret disappear.

(Roger really is a strange person…I also love that about him)

Roger: So, were you thinking I was doing some other research on top of my curse research?

Kate: Yes. What exactly is making you work so hard?

Roger: The ends of chromosomes have this structure. I believe they play an important part in chromosome integrity. The shortening of those structures might a cause of aging—

Kate: Um, Roger!

Roger: Hm?

Kate: …Can you simplify that for me?

Roger gave a knowing smirk and spoke again.

Roger: Research on extending lifespans.

(——Huh)

That’s not what I had expected and my thoughts came to a halt. However,

Kate: Extending lifespans. That…

Roger: I’m aware that what I’m researching is unethical. I’m not trying to be a god. It’s evil to speculate on and take human life under the guise of God. Humans can’t become gods. And I got no intention of creating a monster like immortality. But I can still get as close to being a god as possible and use that power properly and effectively. In short, I wanna fight back so that I can live for even just a second longer.

Kate: …Roger.

Roger: If you disagree with it, then—

Kate: I don’t. If I’m not mistaken…is it possible you’re doing this research… To live with me for even a second longer?

Roger just smiled.

That smile alone was enough to explain everything.

Roger: I’ve already given you everything I have.

The deed to his land, property and assets, a lab coat…Roger had left me a lot of things.

Roger: But that’s no reason to give up on wanting to live a little longer. Never imagined I’d try to do something as stupid as getting close to being a god. It’s all because I fell for you, Kate.

Kate: …

What Roger was trying to do was self-centered and probably disgraceful.

But even if everyone criticized him, I’d rejoice in it.

I really am starting to become like Roger.

Kate: …You really are absurd. But…thank you, I love you.

Roger: I know. Ah…Damn it…I’m gonna pass out.

Roger removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

Roger: Haven’t slept much lately so this drug’s working fast.

His large frame flopped onto the bed like a puppet with its strings cut.

While holding me in his arms.

Kate: Roger?

Roger: …Gonna make love to you…the moment I wake up. So…stay with me…’til... I...wake…up…

After saying that, his breathing started to even out.

Kate: …If you say stuff like that…then I can’t let you go.

Lying in Roger’s arms, I listened to his heartbeat.

The thumping reminded me of a small animal, and my chest tightened.

(...Even if it’s only for a second longer, I want to be with you forever)

I ended up falling asleep in his arms and had a dream.

It was a dream about Roger and I living together forever.

We lived forever while fighting against despair—sometimes getting hurt, other times laughing together.

But I knew this was a dream, and that reality wouldn’t be as sweet or kind.

We haven’t found a way to get rid of curses or extend lifespans…

Such a future might not be possible.

But that doesn’t mean we have to give up.

Fighting against despair is what kept us alive.

A soft light shined on my eyes and I awoke from my slumber.

Kate: …Mnn…

Roger: …Ah, you’re finally awake. Morning, Kate. Well, I guess your body woke up first.

Kate: Huh? Ah…!

My nightgown was bunched up and Roger’s fingers were buried between my legs.

Even though I just woke up, I already felt so hot, achey, and wet…

Roger licked his fingers and then spread my legs—

Kate: Ahhh—

He lined himself up with my entrance before thrusting in.

Roger: Haaa…I got turned on but how cute you looked while sleeping…

He looked at me as he continued to thrust in and out.

Roger: So, what’d you dream about?

Kate: Nn, ahh… …It was…about your…dreams.

Roger: …O_O

He brought my hand to his chest.

(Ah…)

I could feel Roger’s heart beating a little faster than before.

Roger: I’m in good health. At this rate, I’m not gonna die even if I’m killed.

Kate: Hehe, then I’ll give you more things for your heart to beat for so that you’ll live longer.

Roger: …Since when did you get so good at provoking me?

Kate: Huh? Ahh…

I felt him grow harder and Roger laughed.

Roger: Then let’s do a lot of exciting stuff, Kate.

Kate: Roger, ahh…wait! Ahh!

As I thoroughly received Roger’s warmth, I made a wish.

I wished that my days with him would last for even just a second longer.

I wished for a miraculous eternity.

Letter | Both End Clear Story

#ikemen villains #ikevil #ikevil jp #ikevil translations #roger barel #ikevil roger #ikevil roger route

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kodamaghost00 · 11 months ago

Note

Can you do 30 headcanons for Sundrop?

30 Sun/Sundrop Headcanons

———————————————————[Disclaimer!!]

This post will contain: NSFW,Sfw,Fluff,Smut

It’s also Genderless for the girls,gays and theys! You are a Technician in these scenarios!

———————————————————

Let’s begin!

His favorite nickname for you is “Sunshine!” but he calls you every nickname that he can find.

He always talks super eccentric wich leads you to misunderstanding him often.

In the after hours of the Pizzaplex he pins all the drawings that kids made for him on the walls in his room.

He’ll randomly pick you up and treat you like a toddler, just to mess with you.

He’s usually not roaming free in the Pizzaplex but when he’s concerned about you he’ll storm out within minutes.

He’s a desperate dude. He would beg just to let him fuck you. Just drooling over you and your perfect figure praising you every minute.

He can handle various types of kids who are different than others. He knows ASL and has bells around his wrist so the blind kids hear him.

He learns the names and interests from kids who are regularly with him.

He has a lot of stamina. Like. A LOT. So he can go on for hours and hours.

His head spikes spin when he cums, but he always puts his head behind though, so he won’t hurt you accidentally. “F-Fuck sunshine~ This is amazing!”

He loves making puppet shows for the little ones! And sometimes he’ll ask you to join him to make them more human and interesting to look at.

When the kids leave he’s usually very alone. Cleaning the daycare or searching for you to accompany him.

He’s a fan of Karaoke but he doesn’t want people to hear his voice.

One time you came into the daycare in the after hours to search for sun. His monthly maintenance was due but he was nowhere to be found.

It’s weird since he’s always on time. You look through the whole daycare but he wasn’t there. So you go to his room and look over it. And there he is bawled up in the corner.

“Sun? What’s up dear?” you asked gently knowing that he needs you right now. “Sunshine?! Oh… I’m so so sorry that you have to see me this way again.” He said in a super sad tone while looking on the ground. “Don’t worry Sunny. You know you can tell me everything…” He looks up at you with hope.

“Oh… I… uhm… the parents were talking about me again.” He continued to tell you how the parents were talking bad about him. It broke your heart. You sat down beside him and hug his slim build. “You’re the best Sun. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.” You give him a reassuring smile and you guys hug for a long time.

His love language is Acts of Service. He appreciates everything you do for him, even if it’s something small like leaving a sticky note for him.

He apologizes a lot too. Even for stuff that isn’t in his power.

He likes dancing with you. No matter if it’s more partying or if it’s more of a slow dance. “Come here sunshine. Let’s enjoy this moment…”

He’s not only programmed to entertain children but also to educate them. He has a wide range of languages and can count up to 100.

His dick is basically a tentacle. It’s twisted with moons part wich makes it even better to play with.

He has ADHD and uses stimming toys to calm himself. His favorite are the fidget cubes. He also got really sad that fidget spinners didn’t trend anymore.

Sometimes he wishes to be only one animatronic instead of two. After all Moon gets to spend all night with you and he doesn’t.

Every time the younger kids are explaining new memes to him he doesn’t understand. “Oh! What you drawing there small one?? What’s that? A skibidi Toilette…? That sounds disturbing…” You pat him on the shoulder. “Yeah no one gets what they like about…. That.” You say with a slight disgust on your face.

He also wished he could be more comfortable. His metal build isn’t really good for comforting the kiddos. He asked you a bunch of times if you can change something against that but you can’t due to the strict guidelines for him.

He tries to get into your special interests. Asking a bunch of questions so you know he’s interested in your life.

He’d be a switch with a bottom preference. He loves getting touched by you. But he also loves seeing you desperate.

One time you asked him if he still loved you. That man looked at you with the most shocked expression ever and just hugged you.

He hugged you and said “Oh Y/N… my sunshine… you’re the best thing that ever happened to me! I love you with all my body, heart and soul!” You guys just stand there holding each other for a very long time

———————————————————

That’s also finished! I wanna send a huge shoutout and thanks to @millenniumproductions !! I’ll make sure to fulfill all your requests sooner or later! If you’re new here you can also leave a Follow and request! And once again thank you for reading!

- Your Ghost ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

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arimiadev · 2 months ago

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spooky visual novel recs that just came out in the past month!!

now that the awards ceremony has happened, I can openly talk about the visual novels I liked from Spooktober VN Jam, an annual game jam for making Halloween-themed visual novels (which I happen to judge entries for)!

each of these spooky indie VNs came out at the end of September and were made in just 1 month. some are scary, some are cute, but they're all made with love so go give them some love 💜

Märchen Line

Embrace the indomitable human spirit by serving in the First Among Father's Voyager Armada- The Bravest of The Brave, who venture out to liberate the Milky Way from the True Enemy. Serving as a Soldier means embracing infinite potential. With the blessing of His Runes, you will grow stronger, smarter, faster and braver in a few weeks than you have in your entire life. All that growth comes with responsibility, and you will be expected to pay your civic dues- but luckily each Soldier is assigned a Valkyrie to help them manage their priorities. Train your stats, build your relationships, and be all you can be...or push past the galactic narrative and seek a deeper understanding of humanity's true ranking in the galactic hierarchy.

Pippa and Your Phantasmal Problem

Ms Ester's beautiful and neat house has been mysteriously wrecked in the past few weeks and nobody knows why. Patches of dirt on the carpet, things gone missing, and all sorts of mess keeps happening around the house. The police was called to investigate, a priest was invited to bless the house, and a group of ghostbusters was hired (they were so expensive!) and none of them found anything. How useless! If this problem isn't solved by the time Ms Ester returns from her short trip, she'll kick you out. You have to find someone who can help: anyone will do, even this unreliable looking, self-proclaimed witch you just randomly met.

BAD MANORS

On Friday the 13th, your plans for a spooky Halloween night are dashed when you show up alone at the escape room reserved by your friend. You consider going home when a handsome stranger offers to accompany you. Maybe the night is saved after all… Or so you thought.

MAMA

One day, you’ll thank me. After all… mother knows best. Today’s the first day of HimeCon, a Yuri convention. You’re attending with your girlfriend who’s a vendor in the artist alley. At the convention, you receive a text that ends up changing… everything. You find yourself back in your childhood home, except this time, something’s amiss— and you’ve got to escape. She’s always w̶̨̠̟̳͚̮̫͒͒̏̏̌͑͊̒́̂̈̀̓̒͘͠ā̷̧̠͎̤͖̝̠̯͎̎̇͒̋͑̾͑̑͂̂̽͐͂̄͘̕̕͠͠͝t̷̢̙̦͖͙̹̪̠̳̰͛̓̇̀̂̾́̉̍̈́͌̇̔̑͝ç̷̥̮͓͔̣̆̀̆̔̈́̈̀͋͛̓̈͐̕͝h̵̢̧̹̲͇̭̥̰͎͖͇̎̓͒̎̂͑̽͒͑̓͗͗̕̕͘͜͜͝͠͝͝ͅi̸̛̝̳̳̠͇͍̓͒̈́̑́̒̓̊͐͒̆͘͝ͅͅñ̶̢̡̨͓̥̞͉͓͚̞̞̞̲̤̹͙͍̙͛̋̏͗̍̽̇̒̅͊͜͠ͅg̸̪͇͋̓͋̍̈́̇̽̿̑̋̏̏̈́̋̾̋̃͘ͅ you, isn’t she?

Elfin National Park

Come on down and see the ever changing sights of our forest. We have places for the whole family. Just please remember for the safety of you and your family to stay within the designated zones.

MAD LAB PARTY

Being a serial killer is hard when some crow decides to tamper with your bodies. Solution? Kill another and meet your ‘fan’ in the act?! It’s October 31st, and you are dragged out to a haunted house attraction with your friends despite the mysterious ‘Jack-o-killer’ running around, murdering strangers in gruesome and eccentric ways. Bodies ranged from being found taking the place of a scarecrow to being carved and their guts replaced with pumpkin seeds. You, however, didn’t worry about getting killed. You knew exactly who the murderer was. Problem? You knew for sure you didn’t kill them like that.

CANIDAE

The moonlight illuminates the animal that lies within everyone. Will you embrace it; or fight back? On Halloween, a gang of teenagers in animal masks head out to set off fireworks and drink with their friends. Unfortunately, nothing ever goes right for you. As the night grows darker and pranks turn to violence, your friends start to change. Will you?

Killer Chat!

A reporter by day, an aspiring writer by night: you've been asking all the important questions on the dark web. Like, how do you bury a body? How do you kill someone with a crowbar with the right angle to cause blunt-force trauma? What's the best way to hide from law enforcement? If you're to write a good crime book, this is how you'll do it. Suddenly, ERROR! UNKNOWN invites you to a server... with a warning. "don't be so obvious smh You're Gonna Get Caught". ... It's a serial killer chatroom. You may be slightly fucked.

Spirit Driver

From the everyday passenger to the horrors of Halloween, Spirit Driver is a short, casual conversation simulator where your choices can affect the fates of people and spirits alike. Remember, your choices have consequences. Good luck!

Let's Watch Steamboat Willie

Two film nerds sit down for a comfy evening watching old movies. Next up is Steamboat Willie, and they quickly take to bickering. By the time the cartoon is over, one of them will be dead.

Shut-in Vampire

Oh no! Mayu’s in a pinch! She’s woefully behind on paying the rent, and her scary landlady, Miss Himemiya, has issued an ultimatum. Mayu needs to earn ¥100,000 by the end of October, or she’ll be kicked out! Being evicted from her home would be bad enough, but Mayu has a secret: she’s actually a vampire. Mayu hasn’t been a vampire for a full year yet, and the church is keeping close tabs on her to ensure she’s been behaving herself. According to the stone-faced Sister Juriel, it’s the church’s standard policy to execute all vampires without a fixed address, lest they start roaming the streets causing chaos. If Mayu can’t pay the rent in time, she won’t just wind up homeless: she’ll be executed! What’s a fledgeling vampire to do?

Epimutation

Spencer, a former investigative journalist, lives in a small bunker with six other people who have also managed to stay alive after a viral outbreak brought the world to ruin. They're attempting to adjust to this new normal, until they stumble across some notebook pages written by a scientist documenting the infection. Make life or death decisions, form bonds with your fellow survivors, and attempt to unravel the mystery behind the outbreak.

Not My Body!

First you wake up in somebody else's ugly house in somebody else's ugly body, and then you find another person tied up in the closet? This isn't fair at all! Why do you have to deal with this?! It's not like you put him there! And what's going on in your own body right now, anyway…?

that's all of my recommendations for now, but with over 270 entries there's plenty more indie Halloween-themed visual novels for you to try!

#visual novel #visual novels #my recommendations #game recs #game recommendations #spooktober vn jam #just because your game isn't listed here doesn't mean it was bad! not every judge was able to play every single entry #though I plan to go back and play some of the ones that I didn't get assigned and ones that were disqualified from bugs / crashes #there were quite a few ones I was hopeful for that didn't make it because they had crashes :(

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galaxyshine24-7 · 9 months ago

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Soooooo there this video from the HSR channel that has Acheron and Black Swan dancing together and for some reason i keep thinking MC dancing like that with someone. And it’s not from the TWST cast, like maybe someone from their childhood that they knew back then. I really dont know why i keep thinking about this scenario but…

So imagine the scene, MC is currently working in some high end job and the event was nearing it’s end so there are very little people around. Someone came up to the bar while MC was cleaning some glasses. It’s their old friend from the orphanage! So some conversations started and then the friend ask them to dance with them, MC agreed.

As they were dancing, unknown to the two of them, a certain hunter from Pomefiore just so happened to be there and also just so happened to be recording their dance as it was quite a dance and shared it to the other gangs. You can imagine the reaction those groups have when they see their bartender dancing such an intimate dance ;)

(Also here’s the link to the video im talking about https://youtu.be/e5xueJq4Lwc?si=GRJ4_OwCBaYaTJAq )

(If that doesnt work, the title is called “Rondo across countless Kalpas”)

A Dance to Remember: Twst Silver Bullet Au

(I love this video the music and the animation is amazing I can get much inspiration from this so I hope you enjoy the story.)

(F/N = Friend's name)

(Y/N = Your name or Yuu's real name)

(It's long so be warned)

A Dance to Remember A Silver Bullet AU story

It was a quiet night under the fog-covered sky as Yuu stared at the sparkling glass on the counter. They twirl their finger gently along the rim letting out a sigh. Another grand party hosted by Crewel that they were asked to work at. High society and eccentric people gather all from Crewel's circle drinking, dancing, and signing their life away under Crewel's watchful eye.

Same old, same old from Yuu's point of view, it's already late into the night branching into the morning. Most of the quests have gone home save for a few that have a meeting with Crewel. All that is left is the staff and the guards picking up what remains of the party. The only reason Yuu is still here is because Crewel wanted to talk to them about something, but he might as well have forgotten with it being an hour now. Still, Yuu knows better than to leave, especially if it's Crewel who wants something. So they sit behind the bar waiting for their teacher to finally arrive.

"Y/N is that you?" A voice breaks Yuu's train of thought as they turn to see a familiar face.

It was a friend from the orphanage Yuu stayed at. They never thought they would see them again. Especially hearing their real name after all these years.

"F/N it's you?!" Yuu couldn't believe their eyes jumping over the counter to give them a hug. "I can't believe it's you. What are you doing here?"

Yuu's friend picks them up and spins them around embracing Yuu with the same energy.

"Of course it's me, I haven't seen you in years, I can't believe you're here." F/N puts Yuu down. "I should ask what are you doing here Y/N?"

"I work as a bartender," The gesture to the bar behind them. "And I go by Yuu know."

F/N looks at Yuu in confusion but soon puts the pieces together.

"I see the years have changed both of us." F/N gives Yuu a sad smile. "After you disappeared from the orphanage I got adopted, by a pretty wealthy family. They are close to Crewel so I go to these parties often." They rub the back of their neck.

"I'm glade you found a family." Even if they are likely tied to the mafia if they are close to Crewel.

"Yeah, you could say I got lucky." They shrug.

Yuu can guess there is probably more there given Yuu's own past, but it's not their business to pry.

"So I'm guessing they're talking to Crewel right now." Yuu looks over to the grand stairs to the double doors at the top where Crewel holds his special meetings.

"Yeah, and I'm guessing you're waiting for Crewel?" F/N raises a brow.

"Yeah," Yuu chuckles.

"Which means we both have time to kill." F/N smirks.

"Yes, it would seem so." Yuu gives them a sly smile.

Music floats through the hall, has Yuu pictures all the dancing that took place earlier that day. The flowing bodies and the adoring smiles. Those who knew Yuu could tell they loved to sing and dance something their teachers took advantage of very often. It's been so long since Yuu has danced just for themselves. F/N can see them start to sway along with the tune. They outstretch their hand in front of Yuu catching the bartender by surprise.

"Really?" Yuu questions looking around, the staff and guards not really paying them any mind.

"When we dance it will be just us, like old times." F/N gives Yuu a warm smile.

How could they say no to that?

Yuu threw caution to the wind just this once and took their hand their bodies swayed and entwined to the music. They laughed and smiled on the dance floor, for it was true it felt like they were the only ones in the world to witness this moment.

Sadly like most gifts in the NRC, some things are too good to be true. Up in the rafters of the hall sits a hawk smirking with glee at what they happen to witness transpire.

"Magnifique," A camera snaps as the hawk can't help but admire his work. He didn't expect Yuu to be here or to get this thrilling scene in front of him. His queen would be most pleased with his work indeed, and to think he can see the beautiful image of Vil's scowl looking at the pictures and videos he procured. Not just Vil's of course, Yuu's beauty is too grand to share just with him and Vil, no Rook must tell the world about this diamond in the rough. Rook didn't wait to sneak out after the dance was over gleeful as he hums along to the song.

Much to Yuu's dismay it would be a long time before they could feel this relaxed with the flames of jealousy swirling around them from the mafia boys at the discovery of the treasured dance.

Vil was the first to witness the video and pictures, and even he couldn't find a flaw in Yuu's movements. The Pomefiore leader couldn't believe his eyes at the 180 the bartender could undertake, and their smile was so real and so beautiful he had to admit deep down it rivaled his own. Even Epel got to catch a glance has Vil was in a daze and he had to admit Yuu was a fine dancer. The last part he said out loud shocking Vil out of his thoughts has his emotions ran wild ordering Epel to go re do his makeup a ridiculous number of times along with the rest of Pomefiore to try to calm his emotions.

Rook did not keep this a secret he sent copies of the dance to the other leaders sitting back to watch the show. Leona couldn't help but smirk, the herbivore probably had no idea this was captured seeing their surprised face would make this worth while, but the person they where dancing with caused a bit of his blood to boil. The bartender was theirs's who would dare touch them so carelessly, and how dare Yuu laugh and enjoy their company it seems the bartender needed a reminder on their role. He makes Ruggie take the case to find any dirt on the person Yuu was with. As Jack stares at the video in awe trying hard not to show it.

Azul and the Leech twins had the same reaction in a way. If Azul knew Yuu had this talent he would have exploited them long ago when he had them in a binding contract. He needed to know who Yuu's friend was. It could be his one clue to find out who the bartender really was. The twins wanted Yuu to play with them instead and would deal with this mysterious figure that foolishly danced with their shrimpy.

Kamil stares at the video in a strange quietness a small frown adoring his face. Yuu looked so happy and was a wonderful dancer. Why didn't they ever dance with him? Did Yuu not like him? Who is that beside them? Kamil has so many questions and was in deep thought, so much that it worried Jamil at his state. Even Jamil couldn't help but raise a brow as the video questioning how stupid Yuu's dance partner must be since they now have a target on their back.

Idia made several copies of the video making sure he has it forever. He analyzed every moment of Yuu's dance partner and began to search the web to try and figure out who this person was that was so close to Yuu to dance with them. Ortho loved the video and hoped Yuu would one day ask his brother to dance with them as well. He himself now wanting to study dance styles and techniques to try out himself.

Riddle spits out his tea after viewing the first view seconds of the video. Trey rushes to clean up the mess as everyone wonders what disturbed the treasured tea time. Ace looks over Riddle's shoulder to see whistling at Yuu's dance moves soon telling the group making them gather around. Deuce is awe struck at the dance and how well Yuu knows the moves. Cater wants to post it online and tell everyone how they have a five star dancer in NRC. Trey is the first one to bring up who they are dancing with as the others zero in on the mysterious person. Riddle's face grows a bright red who dares touch their bartender. With Yuu's connection to the mafia they are too important to not know who they interact with. Riddle issues an order right then and there to bring the person to Heartslaybul he needs to interrogate this person himself to see if they are a threat or not. That is the only reason of course, don't question Riddle otherwise, the housewarden orders with a bright blush on his face.

Lilia is the first to see the video and brings it straight to Malleus with a mischievous grin on his face. Malleus sits in the lounge reading a book as Lilia hangs from the ceiling handing him his phone. Malleus is confused at what Lilia wants to show him until he sees Yuu dancing and smiling. His heart stops has he sees how graceful they dance. He never knew they could do that. It was a nice surprise at first until it starts to sink in. Was this a party, and he wasn't invited? Who was that person dancing with Yuu? They seemed very close, closer then he is too Yuu. Rain starts to pour from outside as the royal fae starts to sulk. His two attendants notice the change as they rush to his side seeing the video. Silver tilts his head wondering why Malleus is so upset at Yuu's dancing until he sees the dance partner he then starts to understand a little. Sebek is furious how dare the bartender not invite his Liege to the dance he will make sure they pay. Lilia pats Malleus on the head telling him he will find out more about what happened so Malleus could feel better. Yuu has certainly got a lot of explaining to do.

Has Yuu makes it back home and goes to bed they feel a bit happier and lighter as they fall asleep without a care in the world to the sound of rain outside their window.

(Thank you for reading💖)

#twisted wonderland #silver bullet au #twst silver bullet au #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #asks #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderlandxreader #my writing

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starsenha · 3 days ago

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[27] ABOUT THE BOY - the plan

synopsis: You were the queen of Decelis University. Everybody worshipped the ground you walked on. You were used to having what you wanted when you wanted it. Until the day when park sunghoon arrived, and things changed. wc: 5k tw: use of nicknames, mention of toxic relationships and hurt, kissing, making out, sunghoon is so sweet and so fluffy

a/n: im so sad it's the end already 😭😭 abt the boy is my baby im so sad it's over. anyways, i really hope you like the ending and that it answers any question u might have (if it doesn't im really sorry and don't hesitate to dm me or ask in my inbox!!) thank you for all the support this had, I never thought it would be so successful but im so so grateful 🤍🤍

Sunghoon met Jay outside of Yizhuo’s house. It was one of the biggest mansions he’d seen, outside of yours, of course. Jay was waiting for him, his hands jamming in his pockets and he gave his friend a big grin as soon as he got out of his car. Bur something felt…off.

‘’Okay, you seem really…happy. That’s suspicious,’’ Sunghoon said, raising an eyebrow.

Jay’s grin faltered for a second. ‘’Suspicious? Me? I’m just pumped for a chill night with my favorite bro.” He threw an arm around Sunghoon’s shoulders and guided him toward the entrance. “Come on, man. Don’t overthink it.”

As they entered, Yizhuo greeted them with her signature smile. “Welcome, guys!” she sang, waving them in with a flourish. Her house, with its high ceilings, gleaming floors, and a ridiculous number of chandeliers, was practically a palace.

Sunghoon glanced around. “Where’s everyone else? I thought this was supposed to be a party or something?”

Yizhuo shrugged, looking entirely too nonchalant. “Oh, they’re just… on their way. But don’t worry about them,” she said, giving Heeseung a quick, sly glance.

Sunghoon frowned but decided to roll with it. Yizhuo could be a bit eccentric sometimes, so he wasn’t going to read too much into it.

“Actually,” Yizhuo continued, “while we’re waiting, I’ve got the perfect room for you to, uh, relax in.” She motioned toward the guest room down the hall. “It’s super cozy.”

“Um… okay?” Sunghoon followed her lead, though he couldn’t help but feel like something was slightly off. Yizhuo opened the door to the guest room, a beautifully decorated space with large windows, plush seating, and soft lighting.

“Here you go!” she said cheerfully, giving him a little push inside. “Why don’t you settle in and get comfortable?”

Before he could say anything, the door clicked shut behind him. Sunghoon turned, hearing the unmistakable sound of a lock.

“Park Jongseong!” he called, pressing his hand against the door. “Did you just lock me in here?”

Jay’s muffled voice came through the door, trying and failing to sound casual. “Oh, uh… must’ve been a… draft! Or something. Don’t worry about it, bro. Just chill.”

Sunghoon’s eyes narrowed. “Seriously?”

On the other side of the door, Jay turned to Yizhuo, unable to contain his satisfaction. “He’s in,” he whispered with a grin, giving her a high-five. “Now we just wait for yn. She’s never on time, is she?”

Yizhuo smirked, leaning against the wall next to him. “Fashionably late, as always. But hey, once she gets here… things are about to get interesting.”

Back inside the guest room, Sunghoon sighed, finally letting himself sink into the absurdly plush armchair.

“Guess I’ll ‘chill,’’’he muttered, rolling his eyes.

About twenty minutes later, you arrived at Yizhuo’s house as usual, not even bothering to knock. After all, it was like your own home at this point. You barely had time to shake off the cool evening air when Yizhuo and Jay appeared around the corner, grinning in a way that could only described as suspiciously eager.

“Finally, you’re here!” Yizhuo said, practically bouncing on her heels.

“You’re late as usual,” Heeseung added, smirking.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. “Okay, you guys are being way too cheerful. What’s going on?”

“Oh, nothing,” Yizhuo said airily, waving her hand. “But hey, since you’re here, could you check something for me in the guest room? There’s… um, an issue with the—uh, the light fixture.”

You narrowed your eyes, suspicious but deciding to humor your friend. “The light fixture? Really?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Yizhuo nodded, clearly trying to hold back a grin. “You know, just… making sure everything’s perfect for tonight.”

“Right,” You said slowly, casting Jay a dubious look. But Yizhuo was your best friend, so with an exaggerated eye-roll, you headed down the hall toward the guest room. “If this is some lame prank…”

“Oh, would I do that to you?” Yizhuo replied innocently, exchanging a quick glance with Jay.

You pushed open the door to the guest room, stepping inside cautiously. But as soon as you were fully inside, you heard footsteps behind you. You whirled around just as Yizhuo and Heeseung reached the doorway.

“Surprise!” Yizhuo said with a wink, and before you could react, they gave you a gentle push, closing the door swiftly behind you with a loud click.

You pressed her forehead against the door, muttering a string of curses. Then you turned around, your irritation quickly transforming into shock as you realized you weren’t alone. Sunghoon was sitting in an armchair near the window, looking just as surprised as you were.

“Sunghoon?” you said, narrowing your eyes.

‘’Great,’’ he sighed.

Your expression turned icy, and you crossed your arms, leaning back against the wall, as far from Sunghoon as you could manage in the small guest room. Sunghoon, still processing the abrupt situation, glanced at you with a mixture of frustration and hope, though he could already tell from your stance that this wasn’t going to be easy.

“Look,” he began, trying to sound calm, “I know you’re not thrilled to be here, but can we please just talk?”

“Don’t come any closer,” you cut him off, your voice sharp as you shifted slightly away from him, making it clear you wanted nothing to do with proximity right now.

Sunghoon stopped mid-step, sighing deeply. “Are you really going to stand there and act like nothing bothers you? That’s not you.”

“Actually,” you replied coolly, “this is perfectly fine. Just don’t make it difficult, alright?”

Sunghoon clenched his jaw, frustration seeping into his tone. “Right. Of course, nothing’s ever a big deal to you.”

You shrugged, your gaze drifting to the wall, as though the room’s decor was far more interesting. After a pause, you added with forced nonchalance, “I just hope you’re happy with Chaeyoung. She’s the one you wanted, right?”

He blinked, caught completely off guard. “Wait… what?”

You let out a small, bitter laugh, still not looking at him. “Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I know you two are back together. It’s not like it matters,” you continued, your voice carrying an edge. “You don’t owe me anything. We were never official or exclusive, remember?”

Sunghoon let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Is that what you think? That I’m back with Chaeyoung?”

“I saw the picture, Sunghoon,” you replied, your voice cold. “Don’t make me look like an idiot.”

Realization dawned on Sunghoon, and he couldn’t help but chuckle softly, finally understanding the root of your attitude. Was that why you shut him off completely? “That’s why you’ve been avoiding me? Because you thought I was back with Chaeyoung?”

Your jaw tightened, a flicker of annoyance in your eyes. “Don’t laugh, Sunghoon. It’s not funny.”

“It kind of is, actually,” he replied, unable to stop the small grin forming on his face. “Yn, I’m not back with her. I was meeting up with her to tell her that I’ve moved on. That I don’t want her back.”

The icy wall around you seemed to crack just a little, though you tried to keep your face indifferent. “Moved on?” she echoed, almost reluctantly.

“Yes,” he said, his voice softer now as he stepped just a little closer, though still keeping his distance out of respect. “Moved on. I thought you knew.”

“Well, how would I know that, Sunghoon?” you shot back, a hint of anger mixing with something much more vulnerable. “You didn’t exactly… clarify anything.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I wanted to, but you’ve been avoiding me, Yn. Cold texts, ignoring me on campus, and then when I finally get a chance, you’re always ‘busy.’”

You looked away, biting your lip, unwilling to admit how much it had all hurt. “I was just… trying to keep things simple. We weren’t anything serious.”

“Don’t do that,” he said, his voice firm but pleading. “Don’t push me away just because things got complicated. You can’t keep acting like none of this matters to you.”

“And why not?” you challenged, finally meeting his gaze, though your voice wavered slightly. “Maybe it’s easier that way.”

“Because it’s not the truth,” he replied, stepping closer again, his voice softening. “Yn, I know you better than you think. This isn’t you.”

You shook your head, frustration and vulnerability mingling on your face. “You don’t know me as well as you think you do, Sunghoon.”

“Then tell me,” he begged, his voice barely a whisper. “Tell me what you’re feeling. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. Just… talk to me.”

You were silent for a long moment, struggling to keep your walls intact, but under his gaze, you felt them start to crumble. Finally, you let out a shaky breath, unable to meet his eyes.

“I… I’m scared, Sunghoon,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “I don’t want to go through that again.”

He felt a pang of confusion mixed with concern when the words left your mouth. He knew you had a past relationship, but you’d never really opened up about it, and the raw fear in your voice now was unlike anything he’d seen from you before.

“What do you mean, ‘again’?” he asked softly, watching your face for any hint of vulnerability. “Yn, what happened to you?”

Your expression immediately shifted, your guard snapping back into place. You crossed her arms, your posture growing defensive. “It doesn’t matter,” you replied, your tone colder. “Can we just drop it?”

Sunghoon took a deep breath, frustration simmering but tempered by his care for you. “Yn, I don’t want to push you, but you keep shutting me out. How am I supposed to understand if you don’t let me in?”

You turned your back on him, staring at the door as if you could will it to open. “Sunghoon, just leave it alone. It’s not important.”

“Not important?” he echoed, his voice a mix of disbelief and desperation. He moved closer, his hand reaching out but hesitating just inches from your shoulder. “You’re scared because of something that happened to you, and you’re acting like it’s nothing. I need you to trust me. I want to help.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the pressure build up inside you. Part of you wanted to push him away, to keep the past locked up where it belonged. But another part of you—the part that had started to believe in him, the part that actually loved him—felt your resolve crumbling.

“Please, Yn,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just… let me in. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.”

Your shoulders slumped, and you turned your face slightly away, swallowing back the words that clawed at your throat. “It’s not… it’s not something I want to talk about,” you said, your voice strained. “Just drop it, okay?”

But before you could fully turn away again, Sunghoon gently took hold of your shoulders, guiding you back to face him. His gaze was intense, a mixture of desperation and affection, and you felt your heart racing under his stare.

“Yn, please don’t shut me out,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. And then, without another word, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss so intense it left you breathless. It was desperate, filled with all the words he hadn’t said, all the emotions he hadn’t yet expressed.

You hesitated, your hands hovering in the air, caught between pushing him away and pulling him closer. But as his lips moved against yours, the warmth and need in his kiss started to melt the icy walls you had put up. Slowly, almost reluctantly, you let yourself lean into him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, clutching him like he was your lifeline.

Sunghoon’s hand slid up to cup your face, his thumb gently brushing your cheek as the kiss deepened. And as much as you wanted to keep your guard up, you found herself yielding, your resolve slipping away with every second.

When you finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. “Yn,” he whispered, his voice filled with so much tenderness it made your chest ache. “Please. I just want to be there for you.”

You looked up at him, your gaze softened, vulnerable in a way you rarely allowed yourself to be. And in that moment, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time—a glimmer of trust, a sliver of hope.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you murmured, your voice barely audible. But even as you said it, your hands remained on his shoulders, holding him close.

“Then let me help you,” he whispered back, his fingers gently tracing your jaw. “One step at a time. Just… don’t shut me out again.”

He gently guided you over to the small couch nestled in the corner of the guest room. He sat down beside you, keeping one of your hands in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your skin. His gaze was filled with a rare tenderness, a quiet understanding that made you feel both exposed and safe at the same time.

“Talk to me,” he said softly, his voice steady and patient. “Whatever happened… I want to know. Let me in.”

You looked down, your fingers gripping his hand as you struggled with the words. You had buried this pain so deeply that the idea of unearthing it felt almost impossible. But something about the warmth in his touch, the way he looked at her like he genuinely wanted to understand, made you feel that you could trust him.

“It was… it was a long time ago,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was in high school, young and… naive, I guess.”

Sunghoon nodded, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Go on. I’m listening.”

“His name was Sunwoo,” you continued, your tone thick with old pain. “He was older than me by a couple of years. Our families knew each other, and my dad… he wanted us to end up together. He thought we’d be this perfect match, two ‘well-matched’ families. My dad practically saw it as a done deal.”

Sunghoon’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing, letting you continue at your own pace.

“We started dating when I was in high school,” you continued, her gaze fixed somewhere distant. “I thought he was everything I wanted. He was my first love, and… I was so young. So stupidly, blindly in love.”

You took a shaky breath, and he squeezed your hand again, his thumb still moving in gentle circles.

“But Sunwoo… he was… well, he was a mess. A total fuckboy, honestly,” you said, your voice tinged with bitterness. “He cheated on me. So many times. And every time I found out, I forgave him. I made excuses for him, telling myself he’d change, that he cared about me.”

Sunghoon clenched his free hand into a fist, anger flashing across his face, but he kept his grip on you steady, silent encouragement in his eyes.

“It was humiliating,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “Everyone knew, and I still took him back every time. I convinced myself that he loved me. And maybe he did, in his own twisted way. But I let him hurt me over and over because I didn’t know any better. I thought that was… just how love was.”

You took a deep, trembling breath. “Then he graduated. And I thought… I thought we’d finally be okay. That maybe we’d make it work. But instead… he broke up with me. Publicly. In front of everyone. He called it off like it was nothing, made some joke about how he’d ‘outgrown’ high school relationships.”

Sunghoon’s eyes flashed with anger, his hand tightening around yours. “He humiliated you? In front of everyone?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. “I couldn’t believe it. I felt like such a fool. I’d been so blind. After he left, I… I fell apart, Sunghoon. I stopped eating, stopped sleeping. I lost so much weight. I couldn’t focus on anything, and my grades started slipping. My dad didn’t get it; he just thought I needed to get over it and move on. But it felt like everything I believed in had shattered.”

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “I’m so sorry, princess. He didn’t deserve you. Not then, not ever.”

You met his gaze, surprised to find your own eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I thought I was over it, you know? But sometimes, the hurt… it’s still there. It’s why I don’t let anyone get too close. I swore I’d never feel that way again.”

Sunghoon’s face softened, and he held your gaze, his own eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. “You didn’t deserve that. No one should ever make you feel that way. And I promise you… I would never do that to you, Yn. I’m here, okay? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and he wiped it away gently with his thumb. For the first time, you felt the weight of your past beginning to lift, replaced by a sense of comfort you hadn’t felt in years.

The room felt heavy with everything you’d just shared, but in the middle of it all, he could feel one thing so clearly, and he knew he couldn’t hold back anymore. He took a deep breath, squeezing your hand gently as he whispered, “YN… I love you.”

Your eyes widened, shock crossing your face as his words sank in. You opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you could hardly believe you had heard him right.

“What… what did you just say?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sunghoon smiled, that gentle, steady smile that always seemed to make everything better. “I love you, princess,” he repeated, his voice filled with a warmth and sincerity you had never experienced before.

Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of those words settling over you like a gentle blanket. No one had ever told you that before—not like this. The only other person who’d ever made you feel loved and cared for was your brother, Mingyu. But this was different; this was deeper, intimate in a way..

A soft, almost disbelieving smile spread across your lips as you gazed up at him, your fingers lightly tracing his jawline. “You… you love me?”

He nodded, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I do. I love you.”

A rush of emotion overwhelmed you, and you leaned in, capturing his lips in a heavy kiss. It was a slow, gentle kiss, but one that grew warmer and deeper with each passing second. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours, tender yet insistent.

As the kiss deepened, Sunghoon shifted slightly, guiding you so you were nestled against him. His fingers tangled in your hair, and he let out a soft sigh against your lips, pressing you closer, his other hand steady on your waist. It was as if he was filling every broken pieces of her.

“Princess,” he murmured between kisses, his voice rough with emotion as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart swelled, and you managed a soft, breathless laugh. “You’re so… cheesy.”

“Only for you,” he whispered, a teasing smile on his lips, his thumb brushing against your lower lip as he leaned back in.

You kissed again, slower this time, savoring every second, every touch. You felt herself relax completely, letting go of your fears and doubts as you leaned into him, losing yourself in the feeling of his arms around you.

His hands slipped to your waist, drawing you closer still, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses that sent shivers down your spine. You let your fingers explore his shoulders, his back, every inch of him grounding you in the moment, before he came back to attack your lips.

As you kiss deepened, your fingers curled into the fabric of Sunghoon’s shirt, and without even thinking, you murmured, “Hoonie…”

Sunghoon froze for a moment, pulling back just enough to look at you, his lips breaking into a soft, surprised smile. He hadn’t heard that nickname from you in so long, and the sound of it from your lips stirred something deep within him.

“What did you just call me?” he asked, his voice tinged with a mixture of surprise and delight.

Your cheeks flushed, but you couldn’t help but smile back at him, feeling warmth spread through your chest. “Hoonie,” you repeated, letting the name roll off your tongue with a playfulness you’d kept guarded until now.

His grin grew wider, and he leaned back in, pressing a quick, tender kiss to your lips before pulling away just a little again, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Say it again,” he murmured, his voice soft and almost pleading.

“Hoonie,” you whispered, smiling as you said it, your tone teasing as you leaned in to kiss him again, letting the name linger between them.

Sunghoon chuckled against your lips, his arms wrapping tighter around you. “You have no idea how much I missed that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound muffled as they kissed again, slower. “Hoonie,” you murmured again, smiling into the kiss, your fingers tracing patterns along his jawline. “Hoonie… Hoonie…”

He let out a soft laugh, his forehead pressing against yours as he held you close. “You’re just teasing me now.”

“Maybe,” you replied with a smirk, brushing your lips against his once more. “But you asked for it.”

“Well, I’m not complaining,” he whispered, his voice a mixture of tenderness and joy as he kissed you again, his lips finding yours over and over. Each time yous said his name, each time you whispered that soft “Hoonie,” he felt his heart swell a little more.

After what felt like hours wrapped up in each other, you and Sunghoon finally exchanged a glance, a quiet understanding passing between you. “Maybe… we should head out?” you murmured, your fingers still laced through his.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon replied, though he didn’t look entirely ready to let go of you just yet. “But knowing Jay and Yizhuo, they might actually keep us here forever if we don’t show up soon.”

You both laughed softly as you walked over to the door, Sunghoon reaching out to turn the handle. To your surprise, it turned easily, swinging open without resistance.

“Wait… was this door unlocked the whole time?” you asked, your brows knitting in confusion.

Sunghoon looked equally perplexed, glancing back into the room as if expecting to find some hidden prank. “Are you kidding me?” He shook his head, letting out a soft chuckle.

Together, still holding hands, you made your way down the hallway and your the main living room. But as you turned the corner, you stopped dead in your tracks, both of their eyebrows shooting up in surprise. There, against one of the walls, were Yizhuo and Jay, locked in a steamy make-out session that was definitely not meant for public viewing.

You and Sunghoon exchanged a smirk, unable to hold back their amusement. You cleared your throat loudly, and Yizhuo immediately pulled back, her face flushing with embarrassment. Jay, however, looked entirely unbothered, his arm still casually wrapped around Yizhuo’s waist as he shot them both a mischievous grin.

“Well, well, well,” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “What do we have here?”

Yizhuo’s cheeks were flaming red, but she managed a quick smile. “Okay, okay, you caught us. But I’d say you two should’ve been more than busy yourselves.”

Sunghoon squeezed your hand, smiling at you before turning back to Yizhuo and Jay. “I’d say we’re pretty good,” he replied, grinning.

Yizhuo’s eyes lit up, and she looked back at you, her voice softening. “Are you guys okay?”

You glanced up at Sunghoon, your face breaking into a warm smile as you nodded. “Yeah,” you said softly. “We’re okay.” You squeezed his hand as you spoke, your own smile mirroring his.

Yizhuo’s face broke into a wide grin, her embarrassment forgotten. “I’m so glad to hear that! I was really starting to worry about you two.”

You smirked, raising an eyebrow as you nodded toward Jay. “So… what about you two, huh?”

Jay flashed a smug grin, tightening his hold on Yizhuo. “Oh, we’ve been together for a few weeks now. Officially, anyway,” he said, clearly unfazed by the sudden attention. “Guess we didn’t make it as obvious as we thought.”

Sunghoon laughed, genuinely happy for them. “Yeah, I had no idea! Congrats, you two.”

You nodded, your eyes twinkling as you looked between them. “Really, I’m so happy for you both. It suits you,” you said, glancing pointedly at Yizhuo, who was still blushing furiously.

Yizhuo grinned, tilting her head as she looked pointedly back at you and Sunghoon. “Well, it suits you too, Yn. You guys look good together.”

Sunghoon smirked at that, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you close in a playful back hug. He leaned his chin on your shoulder, his grin both smug and affectionate. “Hear that, princess? We look good together,” he murmured, giving you a little squeeze.

You rolled your eyes, though you were clearly fighting a smile. “Oh, please, don’t let this go to your head, Hoonie,” you teased, your voice warm but your expression feigned with indifference.

He chuckled, pulling you even closer. “Too late,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your cheek. “I’m already the luckiest guy in the world.”

You couldn’t hide your smile any longer, and Yizhuo squealed, practically bouncing on the spot. “This is the cutest thing ever! Look at you two, all ‘we’re not official’ to completely inseparable!”

Jay smirked, crossing his arms as he looked at Sunghoon. “So much for your ‘no feelings’ rule, huh, Hoon?”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes but didn’t let go of you and you knew he would now never let go. “Yeah, yeah. Guess I’m a little too whipped to care,” he said, not even attempting to hide his grin.

You tilted your head back to look up at him, your smirk teasing. “A little too whipped? That’s the understatement of the century, Hoonie.”

He pretended to pout, leaning down to brush a quick kiss to your cheek. “You like it, though.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, your smile softening as you looked up at him.

Yizhuo clapped her hands, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Look at my best friend being all lovey-dovey. Who would’ve thought?”

“Certainly not me,” you laughed, still nestled comfortably in Sunghoon’s arms, feeling warmth spread through you as you exchanged a knowing smile with him.

Jay chuckled, reaching for Yizhuo’s hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Guess we’re all a little whipped tonight.”

And for the first time, none of them felt like they needed to hide it. As Jay and Yizhuo started to make their way to the living room, chatting and laughing together, you were about to follow them, but you felt Sunghoon’s hand slip into yours, stopping you in your tracks. Before you could turn around fully, he gently pulled you back against him, wrapping his arms around your waist, and leaned down to brush his lips against your ear.

“Wait a second,” he whispered, his voice soft and full of warmth. “Can’t let you go just yet.”

A warm shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his voice so close, and you felt herself relax into him, your hand instinctively reaching up to rest on his arm. “We’re going to lose them if we stay here,” you murmured, though there was no urgency in your voice.

Sunghoon chuckled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck. “Let them go. I just want you for a minute.”

You smiled, tilting your head to give him a little more space, your eyes closing as you savored the feeling of his closeness. “Only a minute?” she teased, her voice light.

“Well, I could ask for more,” he whispered, his lips now at your cheek as he trailed soft kisses along your skin, making your heart race.

“You’re being awfully sweet,” you said, turning around to face him, your hands finding their way to his chest. “Not that I mind.”

He grinned, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his gaze soft. “You deserve a little sweetness, princess,” he said, his voice barely above a murmur. “After everything… I just want to make sure you know how much you mean to me.”

Your cheeks flushed, your usual confidence softened by the sincerity in his eyes. You could feel herself melting, a smile spreading across your face as you looked up at him. “Sunghoon…”

Before you could say anything else, he leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss, his hands gently holding you close. The world around them seemed to fade, and in that moment, it was just the two of them, their kiss deepening as if they were the only ones who mattered.

After a long moment, you pulled back, laughing softly as you glanced toward the living room. “Okay, we really need to go before they come looking for us.”

Sunghoon sighed dramatically, his hands still resting on you waist. “Fine,” he whispered, stealing one more quick kiss. “But don’t think you’re getting away that easily later.”

You rolled her eyes, grinning as you took his hand and started to lead him toward the living room. “Come on, Hoonie. Let’s not keep everyone waiting.”

Hand in hand, you walked to join their friends, the warmth of his touch still lingering as you settled into the cozy happiness of being together.

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TAGLIST: @arimiukpop @eleanorheartschishiya @i03jae @beomsitez @hoonatic @rep-hoon @invuzzn @naoyiie @sunhyeswife @sophi-eee @heeseungismymanz @istglevi-gotmesimping @jiaant11 @lakoya @noname-123s-things-blog @roslayy @nyfwyeonjun @aehrizone @serenadehera @starry-eyed-bimbo

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ash5monster01 · 2 years ago

Text

Red Lips

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x FemReader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, smut, dirty talk, lust, friends to lovers arc.

Summary: To Charlie you’d always just been Y/N. Always there, always reliable. No use flirting with a girl that was practically one of the guys. But then you got older, and started wearing red lipstick, and Charlie realized he had one too many dirty thoughts about those lips.

word count: 2,698

Masterlist

Makeup wasn’t your favorite thing in the world. That being said you still wore it. Yet you always went for the more natural look, not painting your face like some of the girls in school. Those were also the same girls who got mad when boys asked you out instead of them. You really had no need for eccentric makeup but when you got older and landed the job of your dreams, you realized you had to step up your game a bit. So you started pairing your look with a simple red lip, bold but still not too much.

Charlie always thought of you as the girl next door. After a year of trying to flirt with you he gave up. He figured you’d just always be around, and you were. You were when you both went to the same college, and you were when you both started working at the same business firm. You were his best friend after Neil died. So were the other boys but he didn’t see them as much as he saw you. You were always there, never having to question if he needed you or not. The most reliable person in his life, and there was absolutely no need to mess that up.

That was until you walked into the employee party. For the first time in his life he saw your lips painted with a perfect cherry red. The moment you spotted him the crimson corners upturned into a grin. Flashing your white teeth behind them like red curtains opening on a stage. He swore his heart skipped a beat, the sight of you enough to turn every head in the room. He used the time it took you approaching to clear his head so he didn’t sound like a blubbering fool in front of you.

“Hey Char” you smiled at him, the nickname sitting perfectly on your ruby lips. He had never loved the shortened version of his name more. Especially since you were the only person who used it.

“Y/N, you look ravishing” he grinned back, grabbing your hand to spin you in a turn, and really take in the sight of you. The little black dress, the bright lips in contrast. He wasn’t sure he would make it through the night.

“Oh don’t be a kiss ass” you swatted his chest, shaking your head. Some of your hair fell into your face and he was quick to push it away.

“Baby, I’m not lying. Everyone here is checking you out” you rolled your eyes but smiled nonetheless. Charlie was a natural charmer, but you knew he was being serious about this.

“Come on Mr. Flirt, come buy me a drink” you told him. Normally Charlie wasn’t one to act so possessive around you, but his hand instantly found your back and led you to the bar where he would happily oblige and buy you as many drinks as you wanted.

“So, red huh?” Charlie asked after a while, you both contently sipping from your drinks. He leaned against the bar leisurely, eyeing you like a predator eyed his prey.

“You like it?” Charlie felt his chest tighten, wishing there was a way he could describe to you just how fucking much he loved it.

“More than anything” he told you, making sure you knew that from the way he was looking at you. You instantly became nervous under his stare, realizing your minor change was enough to awaken something in the most reliable person in your life. “I had the same shade in high school you know?”

“Lipstick?” Charlie nodded, sending a chuckle past your lips.

“I’d draw a lighting bolt on my chest with it, it was an Indian warrior symbol for virility. I was convinced it would drive girls crazy. I called it getting red” Charlie didn’t admit he still did it from time to time, figuring it couldn’t hurt.

“Did it ever work?” you asked, looking perfectly innocent and sweet. Charlie wouldn’t mind a bit if you were the one who got him red tonight. He wished you would smear the lipstick all over his mouth, neck, and well, you know.

“Not yet, but I have a feeling it might work for you tonight” the deep blush on your cheeks nearly matched the stain on your lips. Charlie loved that he was able to get that reaction from you.

“Someone must’ve had one too many drinks” you justified his behavior, not used too flirty Charlie. Yet Charlie stepped closer, wanting you to know how serious he was.

“This is my first one. Fact. Those red lips are driving me insane. Fact. You’re the only girl in my life. Fact. And you’re the only one I want in it. Also a fact” your breath hitched in your throat as he said this. Charlie hadn’t flirted with you since the early Welton days. You never would’ve figured he kept a crush all these years.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about” you began to shake your head but he placed a hand on your hip and you gasped like it lit you on fire.

“I’ve been attracted to you my whole life Y/N. But those red lips, that’s something I can’t ignore. Getting red never worked for me but I have a feeling if you’re the one putting lipstick on me it would” the dirty thoughts flooded your mind and without even noticing you pressed your thighs together. The idea of looking at Charlie through your eyelashes as he fell apart underneath you was too much to bare.

“Why haven’t you made a move until now?” you asked and Charlie moved the hand from your hip and to your back to pull you closer.

“I didn’t want to risk losing you. I still don’t, but if I don’t do something about this I might actually go insane” and suddenly Charlie was flush against you and the feeling of him half hard in his trousers elicited a whimper you couldn’t contain.

“You’d never lose me Char” you told him, entirely aware of the fact that it took almost no convincing from him for you to bend completely at his will.

“If that’s true, why don’t we get out of here” he told you, smile resting perfectly on his face. The idea that he was turned on just by the fact you wore red lips was enough to send you running into his arms. So when you nodded and he started guiding you towards the door you did everything in your power to guarantee your knees didn’t buckle beneath you.

You both kept quiet, anticipating what the time alone could mean for you both. You never thought changing up your makeup would be the tipping point of a long waiting game with Charlie. Now in just a few moments your entire relationship was going to change and even though that was scary, this was something you both wanted for a long time. So when both the elevator doors shut Charlie had you pushed against the wall instantaneously. His face was so close you could barely see him but the way his lips slightly brushed yours as he breathed heavily had you humming in satisfaction. You knew he was holding back, asking himself if crossing this line was worth the risk. So you made the decision for him.

Grabbing the back of his head you smashed your lips against his, taking in a breath from his air. It took him no time to react at all as his arms circled around your waist. You were shocked at first by how soft his lips were, they were one of the few things on Charlie’s body you had never touched. His hands were normally calloused and tough, but his lips were like pillows made of clouds. The feeling addicting. Then you noticed how his mouth tasted like cherries and the scotch he had just been drinking. A mix that tasted better than anything you had ever imagined. Your tongue explored every inch that you could before curling around his own. He let out a heavy grunt as you pulled back, biting his lip and pulling it with you in the process. He heaved a breath as the elevator doors opened, more guests stood outside, giving you both looks as you ushered out the doors.

“What were they looking at?” Charlie asked, hand on your back as he led you out the doors to get a cab.

“Maybe your clown makeup slick” you grabbed his face, rubbing a thumb over some of the lipstick you had smeared across his face.

“No, stop” he quickly grabbed your hand, pulling it from his face. “This lipstick is staying exactly where it is, that way everyone knows who I’m kissing and to back off”

“I should’ve started wearing red lipstick so much sooner” you said to yourself before you both climbed into a cab. Charlie’s heart nearly soared over the fact you finally admitted that you’ve wanted this as much as him. The ride to Charlie’s apartment seemed so long you thought you might lose it. By the way he was bouncing his leg you figured he felt the same way too. Once you finally got there he couldn’t pull you inside soon enough.

“I hope you brought extra because you’re going to need to reapply” Charlie told you with a dopey grin before planting a kiss on your lips. As his hands fumbled with the zipper on your dress you dug into your purse, blindly feeling for the tube of lipstick. Once Charlie realized that was what you were doing he started to kiss your neck, slowly dragging the zipper down your back.

Once you had the lipstick in your hands you popped open the cap and Charlie stepped back to watch you apply it on your lips. You took your time, watching as he removed his jacket, then his tie, and then his shirt. His eyes didn’t move from your lips once. You slowly dropped your arms, allowing the dress the fall in a heap at your feet. Charlie sucked in a quick rush of air to see your undergarments matched the red

of your lips.

“Charlie Dalton at a loss for words, I never thought I’d see the day” you smiled, approaching him with the lipstick still in your hand.

“There isn’t a word on earth that could describe how ethereal this feeling is” he whispered and you smiled as you moved to drag the lipstick along his chest. Charlie watched as you zagged the tube through his chest hair, the kind he didn’t have in high school. Once you were finished a bright red lighting bolt was left on his chest.

“You’re driving me crazy” and that was all it took for Charlie to scoop you up and rush you towards his bedroom. You kissed upon his face, neck, and shoulders as he moved you across the apartment. Leaving sticky red lips completely in your wake. Once Charlie reached the bed, he dropped you down before fumbling with the buckle on his pants. Slowly you sat up and nudged his hands away, to do it yourself.

“Fuck, Y/N” he had imagined this moment with you thousands of times before but never had he thought how perfect you would actually be. It was like everything he imagined you somehow did it better. Once his pants were in a pool at his feet he quickly stepped out and jumped on top of you in the bed.

Quickly your lips found his as his hand cupped over you breast. You whimpered softly as he kneaded at the soft flesh, and you instinctively started nudging your hips against his own at the feeling. Finally he reached around and unclasped the red fabric. The minute it left your body his lips were on your breasts, a hand occupying whichever one he wasn’t sucking.

“Oh, Char” the use of his nickname edged him on and he ventured his kisses farther down until he was met with the red fabric covering your mound. Slowly his slipped a finger under the seam, pulling it to the side and exposing your arousal to the cool air. You writhed against the mattress, waiting for him to do anything. Then suddenly his mouth was on you and you arched back into the mattress. Charlie tasted you in every possible way, realizing you were the sweetest thing on earth.

“Use your fingers, please Char” you whimpered, hands tangled in his chestnut locks as he continued to lap at your wetness. You could feel him smile against you as his finger pushed its way inside of you. You moaned loudly, which caused Charlie to movie faster and add more fingers. Once you were crumpling beneath him he pulled back, a dopey grin on his face.

“You enjoy that baby?” he asked and you nodded as he hooked his thumbs in his boxers and pulled them down his waist. You gasped as he revealed himself, tall and proud. Then you smirked as you get an idea.

“Lay down Char” you told him, tugging him onto the bed. You stood up, removing your own panties before dropping to your knees in front of him. Once Charlie realized what you were doing his head fell back on the mattress, closing his eyes as he tried to calm himself down. While he wasn’t looking you took him in your hand, giving a good few rubs before pressing your mouth to his tip. He hissed as you opened up and started to take him as much as you could. Where your mouth couldn’t reach you used your hands, and he slowly bucked his hips into your face. You continued to suck until he was pushing you off. Once Charlie saw the lipstick smeared all over his hard-on he fell back down onto the mattress again.

“Baby, I need to be inside of you right now” he said and you smiled as you stood up and straddled his waist. Charlie sucked air through his teeth as you grabbed him again, brushing the tip through your folds until slowly pressing yourself down into him. His hands grabbed your waist, smiling until you were fully sat.

“You look like an angel” he told you and he wished you could see how pretty you looked, completely naked, sitting on top of him. You smiled before slowly lifting yourself and dropping back down. Once you found a rhythm you both moaned together loudly, lipstick smeared all of your chin. The kisses and lighting bolt on his chest smeared as well. Yet you didn’t care because no one had ever made you feel like this before.

“I’m close” you told him, squeezing your eyes shut as he started meeting up at you with thrusts. The feeling was like heaven on earth.

“Me too baby, you feel so good” his praise turned you on, tightening around him which made him groan. The feeling encouraged his movement and suddenly he was thrusting up into you faster and harder. It took only moments to come on top of him, squeezing him for all he was worth. Charlie followed closely behind, arrogant over the fact he had made you come twice. You fell against him, red lighting bolt pressed between your sweaty skin. He kept his arms wrapped around you, neither of you moving as he sat completely stuffed inside of you.

“That was amazing” you whispered, pressing another kiss to his chest.

“That had to be the best night of my life” he told you, and you smiled as you lifted your head to look at him.

“If you’re going to react like this every time, I’m wearing red lipstick every day for the rest of my life” Charlie chuckled as he pulled you up, sliding out of you in the process, and he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. He had never felt so much kissing someone before. He had never felt so much in general, and he was disappointed he wasted all these years.

“I intend to do this every night for the rest of our lives, red lipstick or not”

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demigodsanswer · 2 months ago

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Percabeth teacher AU/Did they or didn’t they

((this gave me brain worms in the grocery store. Made them professors because that's my world))

During his master's degree, Percy had been given the salient advice to never sleep with another academic at a conference. Because you never know who might end up on your job search committee.

Had Percy listened?

Yes, actually. For eight years he'd listened to the advice, all the way through his Ph.D. and a good chunk of his temporary lecturer position.

And then, he stopped listening.

But in his defense, Annabeth (Doctor Chase now) was a beautiful young woman in a sea of eccentric old white people. He'd grown up with her, gone to camp with her, and he'd even taken her to prom. But then she went to Harvard, and he stayed in New York. Now they pretty much only communicated through likes on the rare Facebook or Instagram post. And, one night, through steamy glances across a Marriott ballroom, plastic cups of free wine in hand.

The decision to go home together was quick and wordless, but followed hours of talking about research, catching up on life, and making her laugh.

Annabeth even kissed him goodby in the morning.

And now she was on the other side a very impressive conference table asking him questions about his qualifications for Brown's open tenure-track job. Her presence kept him focused in the interview though. Working with Annabeth Chase would be an exquisite job benefit.

ten months later

Pollux watched them from the other side of the room. The Classics department wasn't a stuffy as most people assumed, but it certainly didn't have the gossip that the Drama department had. He worked across both, and often his work intersected with Annabeth's work in ancient architecture ("with an emphasis on Athens," she always added).

But Annabeth and Percy had made themselves the subject of gossip. And Pollux couldn't tell if they knew that.

When Percy's application had been pulled out of the pile -- a younger long-shot candidate who'd spent two years as a Lecturer at Wash U in St. Louis, had a good number of publications, and solid teaching philosophy -- Annabeth had asked if she should recuse herself.

"Do you know him?" Chiron had asked.

"Not well anymore, but we were friends in high school."

Minutes later, Travis had found her prom photos on Facebook with Percy Jackson still tagged. "He was your prom date? That's so cute."

Annabeth looked like she might bludgeon him to death with a priceless artifact and ship his bones to the British Museum for eternal punishment.

"Do you think it will affect your ability to be neutral?" Chiron asked.

"No, I don't think so," she said. And so she stayed on.

But she had been in strong favor of Percy since the moment he arrived on campus.

Now, they were sitting thigh-to-thigh whispering things to each other at the department "Saturnalia" party, utterly unaware of the several people snooping on them.

Pollux wasn't sure if they'd slept together before he'd gotten hired (unless they'd done it on prom night?), but he was squarely on team "they are sleeping together now."

three months later

Annabeth was sure she could maintain a professional and adult relationship with Percy. She'd indulged her high school crush for one (exceptional, blissful, wonderful, life-altering) night months before his application had come through, and that was it.

Well, her and Percy's relationship was certainly adult, but was hardly professional.

Sure, professors were allowed to date people in the same school, and even the same department. But Percy and her wanted to keep their relationship on the down-low until it looked less like Percy had fucked his way into a tenure-track Ivy league job.

Plus, Annabeth kind of liked the sneaking around.

Percy, as newest faculty, got stuck with the smallest office, and the only one with now windows. But it had it's perks.

It was the first nice Spring day in March, unseasonably warm, and Annabeth had celebrated with a cute, flowy dress that ended past her shins. One of her students had called it "light academia core." Annabeth assumed it was a compliment.

Dr. Jackson seemed to like it at least. She'd dropped by his office to offer him a ride home (to her home, but what did that matter?), and he'd simply pulled her inside, locked the door, and sat her on the desk. His hands were under it in seconds, and then, after a few "hello" kisses, his head joined his hands.

"I wanted to do that all day," he said with a smug grin as they tried to rearrange themselves after. It was six now. Most of their coworkers were gone, but who knew what undergrad clubs used classrooms in this building. And her students were nosy.

"I've got my own list of things I want to do to you," Annabeth said, tracing her hands up his bare forearms until the met the rolled up sleeves of his button-down. "So grab what you need and come home with me."

#mess 30 year old percabeth is fun #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase

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keepxsolxinxsolxinvictus · 5 months ago

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Malec (aka Matthew Daddario and Harry Shum Jr.) Say Goodbye to 'Shadowhunters'...for Now

On that epic finale, fandom, and weddings...onscreen and off.

By Emily Tannenbaum

Published: May 07, 2019

[Bringing back an oldie from Cosmopolitan]

As I corral Harry Shum Jr. and Matthew Daddario around the Cosmo offices, Matt bounces on his heels, pointing to random objects—like a fancy golden coffee table and fuzzy pillows—asking me if he can bring them home with him (the answer is always "no"). Harry is much more calm, back straight and confident, happy to just laugh at his co-star.

It's jarring how their roles are almost the reverse of their characters: For the last three years on Freeform's hit series Shadowhunters (based on The Mortal Instruments, by Cassandra Clare). Matt played Alec Lightwood, the stoic half-angel leader with a heart of gold, while Harry embodied the eccentric Warlock Magnus Bane, always moving, portaling somewhere or changing his look...not to mention throwing shit around his beautiful New York apartment.

As they say, opposites attract, and Matt and Harry captured the hearts of the entire Shadowhunters fandom as a certified power couple. Malec has certainly had their share of rom-com moments (they share their first kiss when the warlock crashed Alec's first wedding) and dramatic breakups (don't remind me about 2X18). But last night, Shadowhunters gave Malec the happy ending they deserve, complete with gorgeous wedding and happily ever after as the Inquisitor of the Clave and High Warlock of Alicante.

A wedding finale is hardly unheard of in the TV world, bordering on cliché, but for Shadowhunters there was truly no other option. The union of a strong gay man and proud bisexual has been the cornerstone of this fandom throughout its run, inspiring countless LGBTQ+ fans and landing a GLAAD Award for Outstanding Drama (not to mention sweeping the 2018 People's Choice Awards the same year as its premature cancellation). How else do you celebrate their legacy, if not by throwing a giant party and giving our boys one more showstopping kiss?

Of course, as surreal as it is to discuss the end of Shadowhunters with the ship to end all ships, it's even tougher for them to say goodbye. Here, Matt and Harry talk about the Malec wedding, balancing fandom with real life, and why Alec had to stay mortal.

The Malec Wedding

Tell me about the wedding. You’ve built this relationship for three years now, and you’ve seen how massively people have reacted—what did it feel like to give them that milestone?

Harry Shum Jr.: It had to happen. It was a great moment to bring everyone in and say, "Look at this joyous moment."

It was nice to have everybody back on-set. It really felt both, for the show itself and for us as a whole, that this was a great ending. Because it was the last thing we filmed. I'm happy that we got these two episodes so that we could do it because it would have been really unfortunate if the fans hadn't gotten that wedding. And then fans can play in their heads now, Magnus and Alec are married and doing whatever.

Matthew Daddario: You know, it's like the end of a chapter.

Harry: We're safe now.

So correct me if I'm wrong, but Alec is just a Shadowhunter still? He's not immortal.

Matt: Just a Shadowhunter? [Laughs] Yes, I am.

Some fans were really rooting for Immortal Husbands...like, intensely. How do you feel about this?

Matt: This is the thing I always have trouble understanding is that people want the immortality. And this is a topic that's been written about and discussed for thousands of years, and everyone comes to the same conclusion: the curse of immortality. It is not always the best thing in the world to live forever. In fact, that's close to this kind of a godliness that is considered almost like a living hell.

For Magnus, he's living and living in this endless loop without the repercussion of the totality of life. And if Magnus was instead mortal, would we not celebrate their wonderful life? But it's because he's immortal, we worry about what happens after the fact.

Matt: Right. You can get killed. They're immortal, and then they get the shot off the top of the castle walls, and you're like, "Whoa, that's screwed up." But at the same time, every mortal has to deal with that. [Turns to Harry] So it's not your mortality that you're upset about when you first lost your powers. You're not upset about the mortality, you're upset about the loss of your identity.

Harry: But here’s the difference: It’s not the immortality that you get shot and you can’t die.

Some fans just want Malec on an even playing field. But I find it really sad that Alec would have to live and lose like Jace and Izzy—

Matt: Right. Magnus lost people constantly, and he was kind of a shell of a person at one time. Up until meeting Alec, he's filling his life with debauchery, anything to heighten the senses. And, you know, trying to find places where he can take care of people. And he does get involved with helping vampires because they're immortal as well. There is a kind of emptiness to him in the first season.

Harry: No, for sure. And I think then there is the big switch.

Did you get emotional reading the final episode?

Harry: Everyone did at the table read. One of our producers reading off the narration, he couldn't even get through and actually walked out and someone had to take over. And then there was this silence in the end when the last words were spoken. I think that silence spoke volumes.

Has the end of Shadowhunters hit home for you yet?

Matt: I think it will hit me when I don't think about it for a week. If one week passes without me thinking about Shadowhunters, I will say, "Shit."

We think about it every day. This is a huge part of our lives. This is three years of this. And this show, it's a hit. People are talking about it, people from around the world. It's hard to deny that.

Will you still engage with Shadowhunters stans, or are you emotionally ready to move on to another world?

Matt: Look, we're done filming Shadowhunters, but the fans of the show are always welcome to ask questions and all that kind of stuff. But eventually, we're going to run out of new answers.

I'm always happy to talk to a Shadowhunters fan because they are enthusiastic, they care about what they're talking about, and many of them have built friendships off of it, so it matters to them, and therefore it matters to me.

Harry: Because you gave a part of your life.

Matt: Your job is to have an effect on people, and therefore you have a certain responsibility to engage with the people who are affected by this. You can choose not to, you could choose to go completely incognito or to ignore it, but to dismiss it is, frankly, insulting and kind of silly and maybe slightly narcissistic.

But I think that you do need to have an understanding that you're not any different or special because of this involvement with culture. And why would you want to be miserable about it? Why wouldn't you embrace it?

Matt, you kept your own wedding a secret until your one-year anniversary. Was it harder to keep the details of the finale secret or your wedding?

Matt: [Laughs] It was definitely easier to keep the wedding secret. I just told everyone no one's allowed to take photos. And people did a pretty good job with that.

Harry: Yeah, sometimes I think it's a nice...regardless of what your profession is, but particularly ours, to have something just for yourself.

Matt: Not to say that people don't deserve to know, but I think that anybody would feel like, hey, I would like this moment just to be mine for a little bit.

People can be a little bit demanding. One time this girl is walking down the street, I'm walking down the street, she's on the phone, it's the middle of the day, she's FaceTiming somebody.

She sees me, she stops me by the touching me on the shoulder and says, "Oh, whoa, wait, look! Look who's here!" and hold the phone up like this and goes, "Crazy!" and then keeps walking. And I'm like, fuck you. Like, what the fuck?! [Laughing] You don't do that to someone.

It just felt so invasive. It just feels a little bit like, you're not a human. You're the thing I see on TV. But I guess it's just excitement, whatever.

You obviously know about the #SaveShadowhunters campaign. What would you say if suddenly, some other network wanted to pick up the show?

Harry: I think it's a conversation. You know, we love playing these characters. But as time passes, things change. Like introducing a baby into your life, or whatever the next phase is.

But it's also a wonderful group of people. So, of course, instead of saying, "Absolutely not," it's definitely open for conversation for me.

Matt: Honestly, the ending is successful. And, you know, there's a danger now. What if you screw it up? [Laughs]

#malec #shadowhunters #matthew daddario #harry shum jr #alec lightwood #magnus bane #bringing this one back

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radiowallet · 1 year ago

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Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Marcus Moreno Summary: Dieter takes Marcus to a party in the valley. WC: 4.5K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Sexual content. Exclusive M/M dynamics. Written in third-person POV, male protagonists. Anal sex, dirty talk, kissing, cum play, semi-public sex. Small angsty moments. Yearning. So much yearning. AU Marcus Moreno (no wife, no Missy). A lot of purple prose and waxing poetic.

A/N: Hi, hello, it's been a very very long time since I've shared any writing here. I don't have any good excuses other than real-life stressors, mental health and anxiety, and the overall stress of being on Tumblr really really got to me. I'm trying to ease my way back in. Slowly. I've really enjoyed catching up on all the amazing fics you guys have been writing. Thank you to everyone, still here or otherwise. Even when I was off dealing with irl stuff, I could feel the support.

Pretend Alleyways Masterlist II Main Masterlist

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

Marcus chewed at his nail bed, surveying the house from the backseat of his Uber. It was hardly the first time he’d pulled up to the Sherman Oaks home. He was comfortable with the routine at this point. Tapping in the code for the front gate with practiced ease. The same one Dieter had scribbled onto the back page of a forgotten script after that first night together in New York City, his cell ringing incessantly from his back pocket, a car waiting down the curb to whisk him away. Marcus swore he could still taste the mint and menthol on the actor’s breath when he stepped in close and pressed the paper into his hands, kissing him until his toes curled.

“Please say you’ll come visit.”

After that, it had been one strategically planned visit after the other. Marcus was almost mathematical in his process, arranging flights out west around his patrol schedule, switching shifts, and taking on extra duties just to rationalize the time away. Burning the candle at both ends but not caring even in the slightest, happy to run his tank on empty. He’d drive all fucking night if it meant more time with Dieter.

So he took to the task with a vigilant level of focus, texting details and arrival times, the actor responding with a barrage of emojis, always ending with a heart.

Marcus liked the way the little pixelated picture made his stomach flip.

Once together, it became less of a routine and more of a dance, the two of them falling into an easy rhythm that Marcus had no desire to predict. They would lose themselves in each other, wrapping tightly around the other, the heat impossible to turn away from. There were late nights and early mornings, the color of the sun replacing the hours on the clock. Sometimes, he would give up on sleep all together, content to match the actor’s eccentricities, watching Dieter move from room to room, minute to minute, until the other man would return to his arms.

But as each visit came to a close, Marcus would find himself falling back on easy habits, his mind already making plans and rearranging schedules, focusing on that instead of the overbearing weight of goodbye.

In the middle of one farewell, Dieter had grinned and nipped at his bottom lip, a tease curling around the curve of his cheek.

“Don’t worry so much about the vigilante shit, sweet boy. You’re welcome anytime.”

Marcus had frowned at that, but Dieter was unfazed, humming an off-key pop song under his breath before giving one more piece of advice.

Be spontaneous.

Marcus had gnawed on those two words the entire plane ride home, the concept both enticing and diabolical at once. He imagined all the ways he would have spoiled Dieter if they lived in the same zip code. Spur of the moment cups of coffee, flowers just because, nights in and out and everything in between. But even those daydreams felt out of reach, Marcus unable to let go of the need to control everything. Everything. Everything that he possibly could.

Except Deiter Bravo.

The actor was bound for overseas, a six-month shoot looming ahead, lonely and large. They had spent the weekend before much the same way they had any other. Twisted together, sweat and cum and lips and hands pressed into bare skin, ignoring the ticking of traitorous time. Cruel miles were taking the other man away from him, and Marcus couldn’t stop the swell of jealous fear flaring inside his heart.

Would he even be missed when the whole luminous, wonderful, exciting world was waiting for Dieter on the other side of the tarmac?

A deep cough from the front seat dragged him back to the present, and before he could second guess himself again, Marcus climbed out of the car, tapping out five stars with one hand and grabbing his overnight bag with the other. He hesitated, just the smallest moment of debate, before he knocked, three sharp raps on the large black door. There was a shout from inside, Dee’s voice alerting someone he would get it, a breath and a curse as the lock was fiddled with, and then they were standing face to face after only 39 hours apart.

Dieter seemed shocked to see him and he didn't bother hiding it, his jaw dropping in time with his arms, the shirt he had been buttoning hanging open to reveal his bare chest. Marcus couldn’t help but steal a glance of tan skin and a soft belly, licking his lips in anticipation. When Dee called his attention back up, the other man was smiling wide.

“This is…”

“A surprise?”

“A great fucking surprise.”

It was almost a blur after that. Fumbling hands and broken laughter as they came together in a messy kiss. They managed to make it up the stairs and down the hall, Dieter’s bed barely breaking their fall.

Marcus wanted to take his time, should have been taking his time, but Dieter’s voice was in his ear, thanking him — thanking him? — for showing up tonight. Thanking him and begging him and pressing salt-slicked lips into the curve of his neck. And before he could breathe the other man in, savor the moment that was coming out of nowhere, they stripped away each and every layer, Dieter panting beneath the hurried press of Marcus’s fingers deep inside.

Sooner rather than later, Marcus was sliding into the other man one final time, their hips flush and their fingers laced. He came with a groan, face buried into the dip of Dieter’s neck, while the actor sunk his teeth into his shoulder, the pleasure burning away into the edges of pain. Only after they both found their breath, bodies pliant and limbs loose, did Marcus find his voice.

“Do you want to order in?”

Dieter didn’t say anything and Marcus craned his neck up to peek past the other man’s chin and catch a glimpse of him worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Did you already eat? Because that’s okay.”

“No…,” he started, fingers tracing a line of muscle from the top of his shoulder and back around, lingering along the teeth marks he left there only minutes earlier. “I haven’t eaten. I…there’s this thing I have to….well, not have to. I was getting ready for it when you knocked—“

“Dee?”

“There’s a party,” he finally blurted out, eyes finding the swing of the ceiling fan above, a grimace pulling his lips into a jagged line, a deep shade of pink settling on his cheeks.

Marcus leaned up on his elbow, watching the small battle of wills dragging across Dieter’s face. He thought maybe he should try to comfort the other man but he was suddenly anxious, those creeping realities working their way up his spine.

“A party?”

“Yeah, it’s sort of this farewell thing my friends are throwing,” he explained, not needing to. “Really, just an excuse to get blitzed.”

The lack of eye contact suddenly made much more sense.

“You wanted to go.”

It wasn’t a question.

Dieter was up and over him in a flash, one large hand bending around Marcus’s jaw, thumb pressing the seam of his lips shut. “I didn’t want to be alone.”

Marcus pursed his lips, the pad of Dieter’s thumb still pressing firm. He felt the callous from where Dee cheated his paintbrush, a perfect spot to push a kiss before pulling away.

“You want to go.”

Dieter searched his face, eyes wide and cheeks flushed, trying to pull apart the determined set of Marcus’s jaw. When he came up empty-handed, he fell back to his elbows with an exaggerated sigh, one large hand still cupping the cut of the hero’s cheekbone, keeping his thumb close enough to touch.

“I want to go with you.”

———————

Marcus smiled from where he was leaning against the doorway, watching Dieter rummage through his ridiculously sized closet, a string of muttered musings leaving him as he pulled item after item off of hangers. The Heroic had slipped back into his jeans and t-shirt once the decision had been made that they would attend the party together, not really packing (or owning) anything that fit the L.A. scene.

He was two steps towards the bathroom, intent on fixing his messy hair when Dee stopped him with a strong grip on his elbow.

“Leave it,” he teased, a quick kiss pressed to his lips, fingers tugging at one of the sweat-slicked curls.

Now he was standing behind him, sliding a stone-washed jean jacket up one arm and then the other, one more kiss, this time gifted to the back of his neck. The jacket hangs a bit loose around him, Marcus guessing a mix between the cut and style, and Dieter’s broader frame both at play. He couldn’t help himself, tugging the collar to his nose and inhaling deeply, the smell of weed and cologne and something subtle sweet filling his lungs.

He felt Dieter’s eyes, watching him carefully in the reflection of the mirror, his hands finding the dip of his waist beneath the bulky fabric, gripping hard then soft, one, two, three times. Marcus took in the pair of them — sex-mussed hair and bright blush on him, wild eyes, and a teasing smile on Dieter — and he suddenly had no desire to go to this party. Any party.

No.

All he wanted was for Dieter to pull this jacket off the same way he had so easily slipped it on, and drag him back down to the safety of the mattress.

“Come on, sweet boy,” he hummed, the hook of his nose tracing the shell of Marcus’s ear. “Sooner we get there, sooner I get to take you home.”

The word followed Marcus down the stairs and out to the car, his stomach flipping each time he let the meaning of it roll around inside his head.

Home?

———————

Driving in L.A. was an experience in and of itself. Marcus had made his own attempts, managing to find a rhythm in the few times he had been sent out to the west coast on assignment. It wasn’t much different than driving in any other city, as long as you were prepared to sit in what felt like endless hours of traffic. Of course, Marcus had the pleasure of abusing side streets and off-ramps when it came down to emergency situations.

Driving with Dieter behind the wheel was a different experience altogether. He seemed unfettered by speed limits or traffic lights, one hand on the wheel, the other wrapped around Marcus’s knee, singing along to the song on the radio but only getting about half the words right. If not for his powers and years of honing his reflexes, Marcus would have maybe suggested he do the driving when he was in town.

As it was, it was nice to settle into the plush leather seat and listen to Dieter’s slightly off-key voice, his hand squeezing Marcus’s knee in time with the beat of the music. He leaned back and closed his eyes, weighing the risk of asking Dieter to just keep driving. Maybe if they kept going, all night and all day, they could avoid the inevitable goodbyes looming in the distance.

———————

The last time Marcus and Dieter had been at a party together, they had only ever heard of each other, recognizing names and faces from newspapers and movie screens. They didn’t know any different than what was said in headlines or plastered on billboards, rumors and hearsay coloring in their opinions of one another. How many assumptions had Marcus made about the actor upon that first meeting? That he was pompous. Self-centered. Selfish. An addict. An asshole. A monster.

Or maybe Marcus was afraid that was how Dieter saw him.

The monster in the night. The shadow that lurked in the corner. Fighting away the evils of the world, the palms of his hands so very dirty with blood and secrets and violence. Living in the between of good and bad and never knowing where he really stood.

But when their eyes met across that darkened alley, only the glow of Dieter’s cigarette casting shadows between them, those half-truths and packaged lies that Marcus took for granted started to fall away. Somewhere between their small secrets and one smokey kiss goodnight, he started to learn who Dieter Bravo really was.

This party was different in so many ways than that first elegant affair. Gone was the light classical music, replaced with something loud, a heavy bass and fast lyrics. Bowls of chips instead of passed trays. Stiff black and white was traded in for soft denim, Dieter’s scent surrounding Marcus from room to room. They entered the party together, no longer separate, no longer strangers, and instead more.

So much more.

Dieter’s arm was wrapped around Marcus’s waist, holding him close by his side as they navigated the packed mansion. The crowd parted around them, little waves of people ebbing and flowing to make room for the two men, boisterous cheers of joy raining down upon them. Dieter preened beneath the attention, his smile wide and his cheeks warm, the hand wrapped around Marcus’s waist squeezing hard to grab the Heroic’s attention.

“They like to make a fuss,” he hummed into Marcus’s ear.

He couldn’t help but cock his own grin back, turning his head just enough to brush his lips along the shell of Dieter’s ear, delighting in the shiver that followed. “I think you like the fuss.”

———————

They get separated about an hour in, an inevitability between the number of people vying for Dieter’s attention and the sheer size of the house. Marcus excused himself to the bathroom, trying and failing not to be annoyed when the first empty one he found was on the opposite end of the party. By the time he made it back to where he left Dieter, the other man had moved, now sitting on a couch, friends and fans alike draped around him.

There was something strange about watching Dieter Bravo in what some would consider his natural habitat. He was bright and shiny and impossible to look away from. He almost looked relaxed, his arms thrown over the back of the sofa and his legs stretched out long, only the tap tap tap of his heel giving him away.

Marcus wanted to insert himself. To crowd himself beside the other man and press his palm to the bend of his knee in hopes of soothing away the small tremor of anxiety, but he hesitated, his own worries holding him in place. So he stayed where he was, back glued to the wall, arms crossed and frown firm, as he tried to decipher the scene playing out in front of him.

Was Dieter’s laugh real just then? Or was the one Marcus had teased out of him hours prior? The sounds seemed so similar, a copy of a copy that looked and felt and sounded real. Were his cheeks pink because he preferred their attention over Marcus’s? Or was it because this room was too damn hot? What did it mean when Dieter touched her knee? Or kissed his cheek? Or leaned a little bit more into their touch?

And why did Marcus care?

He didn’t consider himself a jealous man.

But it almost felt inevitable, the dark tendrils of jealousy seemingly always present, ever since that fateful moment in the alleyway, smoke and secrets traded away for unspoken promises for more. Marcus clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes, watching the other man glow beneath the attention of others. Was it merely a reflection back of the attention poured upon him? The mirrors of a disco ball catching in the light and shining for the delight of others? Or was Dieter just enjoying another moment in the limelight?

Marcus couldn’t seem to see the line between real and fake, or what side he stood on.

Someone handed him a drink in the midst of his brooding, and the sting of the alcohol paired well with his bitter mood. He was trapped in a hell of his own making, refusing to look away from the crowd gathered around Dieter, but hating every second of it.

The jealousy burned inside of him. What had just been something dark mingling in the background was now present and in full force. Marcus was jealous. Jealous at how effortlessly Dieter lived his life, able to navigate crowds and fame and fervor without ever breaking a sweat. Jealous at how his smile seemed just as bright as it had when he opened his door hours earlier. Jealous at how someone else held the attention of his sweet brown eyes.

And suddenly there was fear. Icy cold and horrifying reality.

Marcus didn’t belong here. Here with these pretty people and their clean lines and bright lights. He was messy edges and dirty hands, stained with years of violence that would never scrub clean. There was dirt on his ledger and red on his chest, and Dieter was beautiful. So very very beautiful.

Another wave of panic gripped tight at Marcus’s throat.

When was the last time he told Dieter he was beautiful? Yesterday? Or the day before that? Either way, it wasn’t enough. Not nearly. And he couldn’t fathom a world where he lost the chance to say it again.

He couldn’t lose this. He couldn’t lose him.

The lights above them flickered, an unwelcome side effect of his superpowers, Marcus’s unruly emotions too much to handle all at once. It was just enough to drag everyone’s attention up, stealing their eyes away from Dieter, but only briefly. The actor caught his gaze in the small interim, brows pinched and lips curved, his sharp mind putting the puzzle together. Marcus blushed beneath the scrutiny, feeling very much like a child caught in the midst of a crime. He slammed the cup down on the nearest surface he could find and shoved his dirty hands in the pockets of Dieter’s jacket, and turned away, the lights flickering one last time as he made a quick and embarrassing exit.

From behind he could hear the shout of a stranger.

“Hey, Dee where’s your boyfriend headed?”

Marcus was so focused on the fact that someone else called him ‘Dee’ that he missed the way Dieter's eyes lit up at the word boyfriend.

The bathroom he had found earlier was blissfully empty, and he took care to lock the door behind him. He braced himself against the sink, the cool porcelain a balm to the heat of his palms, breathing in and out, sharp and fast, to match the beat of his heart. A knock came seconds later, Dieter’s voice chasing the sound.

“Let me in, Marcus.”

It didn’t sound like a request.

Marcus unlocked the door with a flick of his wrist, and the actor slipped in, eyes pinning him in place as he locked the door behind him. For a moment both of them refused to speak, 2 feet of space between them, and enough silence to last a lifetime. It was Dieter who finally broke the tension, stepping forward until Marcus was within his reach, the palm of his hand cupping his cheek to keep him close.

“Flattered as I am, I can’t decide if I like jealous on you or not.”

Marcus knew it was foolish to lie at this point. If his fucking superpowers hadn’t given him away, then storming off surely had, and any denial would have rung hollow. Besides, they had promised. Months ago, in an opulent hotel room, cum and sweat sticking them together. They promised to always be honest with each other.

“I don’t belong here, Dee.”

“Shut up.” The sentiment came out as a tease, the tip of Dieter’s thumb tracing the stubble along Marcus’s cheek, but the look on his face was serious.

Marcus shook his head, unsure how to say what had seemed so clear to him only minutes ago. “I’m not…I’m not g–”

“I swear to fucking all, if you say the word ‘good,’ Moreno.”

His mouth clamped shut, and he smiled for the first time since he left Dieter’s side earlier in the night. The other man yanked him in for a quick kiss, only pulling a breath away when he spoke again.

“You are better than all of us, sweet boy. Please tell me you know that?”

Marcus wanted to shake his head in disagreement, the very idea that Dieter saw the good in him too much to bear, but the actor was already kissing him again, lips slanting sweetly along his own. When they broke apart for the second time, Dieter said it again, and then again, each time pairing a kiss with his words. Marcus thought maybe he would have kissed him a hundred times and then a hundred more, praise and adoration passed between them until the inevitable end of time caught up.

But then Dieter crowded in closer, kissing him with much more fervor, his intent clear. Hands scrambled as belts were tugged free and pants were pulled down, bodies twisting until Marcus was plastered to Dieter’s back. He slipped inside the broader man easily, still slick with his release from earlier. Dieter whined at the stretch, pressing back into Marcus, fingers curling around the edge of the bathroom counter as he began to beg.

“Hard, baby. Please.”

Marcus nipped at Dieter’s ear, refusing to move, the entire length of him buried to the hilt inside him. “How hard?”

“Hard,” Dieter begged again, squirming in Marcus’s tight grip. “Hard as you can. Need to feel you. F-feel so good.”

It was an intoxicating rush, reducing Dieter Bravo to stumbling pleas and wanton moans, and Marcus swore as long as he was able to pull air into his lungs he refused to take that feeling for granted. He pressed a soft kiss to Dieter’s skin and gently nudged his nose to the back of his head, coaxing his gaze up to meet Marcus’s in the mirror.

He dragged his hand up Dieter’s chest, stopping to feel the steady thump of his heart, one, two, three beats, before moving up to wrap his fingers around the other man’s throat. He whined again, writhing to and fro, the sound more pitiful with each passing second that Marcus refused to move.

“I’ve got you, mi cielo. I’ve got you,” he hummed the promise, pressing another kiss to Dieter’s sweat-damp curls. He squeezed the actor’s throat again, watching as his cock seemed to pulse in time with the action. He bit back his own groan, his own cock painfully hard where he was buried inside the other man.

“M-marcus…please…”

When he finally moved, it was slow, almost torturous for the both of them, but Marcus refused to be rushed. Not this time. Fuck any and everyone who dared to knock on that door. That dared to interrupt them. That dared to break between this moment. He pulled the other man closer, one arm wrapped around his waist, the other still gripping tight to his throat. Dieter’s hands were still scrambling, designer soaps and over-priced products falling to the floor as he seeked some sort of leverage. He finally found it, stonewashed denim bunching between his fingers as he dug them into Marcus’s forearms.

And only then did Marcus give into his request, snapping his hips as hard as he could, teeth sinking into the curve of Dieter’s neck. There would be bruises, bad ones, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, too overwhelmed at the thought of marking the other man as his own. Dieter didn’t seem to mind either, begging Marcus again and again to give him everything he had.

“Want to feel it,” he sobbed, the pleasure just on the other side of pain. “Want to feel you when I’m gone. Please.”

“You will, baby. I promise,” Marcus growled. “You’ll feel me for days. You won’t forget me. P-please… don’t forget me.”

The admission fell out of Marcus before he could stop it, along with his own broken sobs to match. The pain and tears burst to life, the broken pieces he had hidden all over his body finding new life as he begged Dieter to take it all with him. Each slam of his hips and bruising touch of his hands. Every bite from his teeth and kiss from his lips. The words and the promises and the things neither of them knew how to say but felt all the same.

“Take me with you, Dee. Please, take me with you.”

“I will, sweet boy,” he gasped, his body shaking beneath Marcus’s anguished hands. “Sweet boy. Good boy. I promise.”

Dieter came first, though Marcus wasn’t sure how, his sobs and sighs of pleasure long past any sort of coherence. His cock twitched and pulsed, coming completely untouched. Marcus watched Dieter’s face break apart in the reflection of the mirror, his brown eyes wild and skin flushed, lips parting around a feral scream.

Marcus fell apart in kind, sparks of heat bursting at the base of his spine as tight velvet squeezed around him, Dieter’s voice in his ear, his jacket sticking to his skin. He spilled inside the other man, tears and spit and snot pressed into Dieter’s neck, little words of praise coaxing him through the brunt of it. Eventually, the tears turned to laughter, the two of them clinging tighter as they made guesses at how many people heard them.

“Either way, I hope they enjoyed the show because I sure did,” Dieter teased, nipping his teeth on the hinge of Marcus’s jaw.

They did a piss poor job of cleaning up, Dee’s cum barely wiped clean from the porcelain with a towel found below the counter, too high a thread count for something so filthy but neither man really gave two shits to look for an alternative. The products were tossed haphazardly into the sink, the idea of stacking them neatly ridiculous. They both agreed; you get what you ask for when you throw a party in the valley.

Marcus took better care when it came time to clean Dieter up. He warmed up the water from the sink as best he could, using that same fancy towel from before to wipe up the trickle of cum slipping slowly down his backside. He couldn’t stop from stealing one small indulgence, using his thumb to press some of himself back inside the other man, Dieter’s legs visibly shaking from the sudden stimulation. Marcus shushed him with a soft kiss to one of the many bite marks littered across his neck, humming out a quiet apology.

“Do they hurt?”

“They do,” Dieter grinned, tilting his chin to admire the marks as he tugged his jeans up over the swell of his ass. “I’m gonna need a few more before I get on that plane tomorrow.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmmm, definitely.”

Dieter pressed something hard into Marcus’s hand and when he looked down he could see it was his car keys, the silver teeth catching in the light.

“Take me home, sweet boy. I have plans for you.”

There was that word again, breathed out so easily, like a promise he knew he would keep.

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#Marcus Moreno #Dieter Bravo #Marcus Moreno fic #Dieter Bravo fic #Marcus Moreno x Dieter Bravo #mlm #we can be heroes #the bubble #pedro pascal characters

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