#Eccentric Party Night got me like!!!!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nabitsun · 7 months ago

Text

— SPINE BREAKER shy! choso x fem reader

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

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

᭝ wc : 11.5 K

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

"shoko.."

"what is it?"

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

"oh but you will." she smiles.

you know you will, you always do.

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

"exactly, ask yuki to come with you."

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

you give her a quizzical look,

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i hope not." you mumble

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"i like the purple better."

"that's what i was thinking.."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

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

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

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

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

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

"focus on not getting us crashed already."

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

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

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

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

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

"mhm, thanks?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"why did you?"

you keep silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he drops the book on the ground.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"are you planning to come down?"

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

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

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

"what do you enjoy then?"

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

"not parties at least."

"mhm, i would've guessed."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"what's your name?"

"choso."

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

"what do you mean? like right now?"

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

"what are we gonna do?"

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

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

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

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

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

"alright, but just for some time."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"majoring in?"

"computer science."

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

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

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

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

"what do you think he says about you?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you want some?"

his blurred eyes meet yours.

"huh?"

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

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

"you just gotta ask."

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

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

"my drink, you idiot."

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

"um.. yeah, sure."

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

"there you go, how is it?"

"s'good." he nods.

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

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

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

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

"be aware of my surroundings."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"she left yuki and i alone with a bunch of freaks," shoko declares through the clattering sounds of the cantine while pointing her fork on you as she explains the evening, once again.

"you didn't seem to mind when i pulled you away from one that you were trying to dissect open with a knife." you insist, once again.

you stir the fuming food and distribute it homogeneously over your plate to let it cool down, ignoring shoko's words as she continues the story.

"it's kinda funny that you spent the evening with a guy who's a carbon copy of the type you say you hate." suguru intervenes and you sigh at the snarky remark. satoru keeps chewing on his food carelessly, clearly enjoying the roast you're subject to.

you shake your head at the statement, "spending an evening with someone and actually enjoying the time spent is different."

"mhm, clearly if i hadn't called you you'd still be making out with him right now.." shoko mocks and you swear you can see satoru's lips twitch in amusement.

"we just talked !" you half whisper, half scream, letting your food drop into your plate, causing your friends to shush you.

"c'mon just say you like him, we'll still be friends y'know?" you look deadpan at satoru, a look that doesn't require any words.

"i mean everyone knew he had a crush on you in high school, it wouldn't be surprising if it was still the case." suguru shrugs, you don't know if if he's being honest this time or if it's another joke. you choose to believe the latter.

you shake your head and look around the cantine to ease your mind from your shit friends, which doesn't seem to be the thing to do as satoru adds another weight to your already heavy shoulders.

"what? looking for your new pet? homeboy is probably hiddin' in his room right now. i mean, when doesn't he?"

you breathe out tensely, butchering your food with your cutlery as you clearly picture some detailed ways you'd like to treat the man in front of you.

"fucking assholes.."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

after what happened during the last couple of days you really tried taking measures. good measures. and it was kind of ironic how choso should've been the type to try and dodge any interaction with your friends, but now you were the one trying to sneak past him.

he was nice. you'll give him that.

but he was stupid. so fucking careless. and really naive because he surely did think an evening sipping on milkshake meant something along the lines of "will you marry me?"

anytime he spotted you in between classes he just had to walk in your direction. whether it was just small talk or not, he talked to you every. single. time.

but he was so nice. you couldn't just shove it in his face? could you? despite shoko's encouragement to drop him there's something that just.. didn't feel right. and may God forgive you, but you know this is certainly not the advent of your good morals.

though all of that clingy attitude really pissed you off, you did find yourself thinking about that evening and how Elvis Presley was so annoyingly being repeated in the background. how his eyes, despite their darkness and exhausted features, never ceased to display the most authentically pure emotions you've ever seen.

"i don't know i just, don't want you to think badly of me."

you sigh, heavily. some conflicted parts of you wanted to know more, an evening wasn't enough to just send him off right away, right? who was he? who does he claim to be? and the fact that you don't remember him, no, you can't remember him doesn't help either to your curiosity. because you did search through your yearbooks and to see his face didn't help you bring back lost memories.

shit maybe you just need someone to ring some senses to you but you also don't want shoko nor satoru to do it, as much as you hate to think about it they'll taint your vision more than they'll clear it out. in some ways choso was right ; their judgment might have their part to play in the way you think. in some ways only.

or maybe you're trying to blame your friends for your shitty behavior which only makes you feel ten times worse. you let out a grunt as you get up from your chair, going to the library to study with a clouded mind wasn't a good idea and even more at the end of the day.

failing to have a cigarette you can borrow from shoko right now, you choose to take a walk around campus. it's not the best sight but the air is far more fresh outside.

oh and how ironic was it when your feet led you upstairs to the dorms. it's not like you even planned your itinerary, it was like second nature to you, plus the air definitively felt a lot more breathable.

out of all the rumors you've heard, you knew at least one was true : choso was an orphan ; he stayed in the dorms right above the college structure.

and how absurd that was when you feet planted right outside his doorway – you can say thank you to the floor tenant files that didn't seem to care about the resident's personal information.

the thing missing though is your speech. you didn't have anything in mind. fuck what are you thinking? you're not even sure you'd want to see him at all, despite your evident location. before you could produce another stupid thought your fist met the door to knock twice.

it was about six seconds of wait that felt like half a minute as you just stood there outside. the door opened slightly ajar, and it reminded you of the first time – well not counting high school – that you saw him.

long strands of black hair dangled in front of the doorway before he stepped closer to fill the gap with his width. of course his eyes widened. they always do when they meet yours.

"oh, hey," he quickly looked over his shoulder, behind him and lowered his eyes to take a look at himself.

it was an agreeable sight, you will not deny. his hair were hanging loose at shoulder length, wearing only an oversized white t-shirt (was it oversized or just his actual stature ?) and gray sweatpants. you almost felt like diverting your eyes away as if you were prying on something you shouldn't see.

"hey."

silence.

"are you okay?" he stays still, swiping his tongue inside his lower lip while playing with his ring piercing you presume ; a habit of his you've noticed. you don’t really know if he's asking to be polite or if you genuinely look like you need help.

"mhm," you nod, "can i come in?"

"uhh, yeah" he takes another look behind him and you're starting to think maybe you came at the wrong time. "yeah, of course." he opens the door wider and steps aside, you enter and to your relief nothing crazy's going on.

the room is neatly organized to your surprise, not that you were imagining a slum, but you were expecting something more akin to the prototype of the homebody student. you avoid looking too much everywhere, you didn't come for that anyway.

choso retreats to his desk where he leans against it, his hands on the length of the edge to support his body.

"looks serious eh?" he escapes a small laugh, almost a scoff actually as he scratches his forearm and you suddenly want to leave the room because of how miserable you feel.

"we have to stop this.. thing here." you point to him then yourself.

you almost feel bad for him. almost, because of the way his hand previously on his other arm stops in the previous scratching motion, because of the way he only stares at you for a few solid seconds.

"what do you mean?"

"you know what i mean," you sigh "i don't even know why you suddenly want to talk to me anyway," you shake your head and look down. it's not even something you're blaming him for, you're really wondering why he'd want to talk to someone who plays on both sides with him.

"it's not.. that sudden. i've always wanted to talk to you." he tells you softly, "have i done something wrong?"

he's too nice with you it makes you audibly grunt.

"do you have a crush on me or something?"

silence again. a longer one this time. you didn't really mean to blurt it out like that, you'd envisioned something a little more subtle but frustration got the best of you.

his body shifts, his hands move closer to his body and he crosses his arms over his chest, tapping his biceps with his finger repeatedly. he stays silent.

"it's a yes or no question choso."

he pinches the bridge of his nose just where his mark is and breathes out a small "fuck".

"alright. it's ok if you don't wanna use your words, you certainly don't fail showing it to the whole fucking world anyway."

he takes a step forward rapidly, a single step but big enough to be closer to you nonetheless.

"i'm sorry, shit, i didn't know it would make you so upset. i'm sorry." he apologies. and you don't know if he realizes how upset he looks in the situation, he runs a hand through his hair in distress and you can see how agitated he is.

his face is right above yours, you don't really have to do anything but to look up to meet his panicked eyes. and it's a complete contrast how your eyebrows almost hurt from the frown while his face is contorted in worry.

and you'll blame your beating heart on your irritation and building up anger and definitely not because of his sole proximity. you try to commit to that thought at least.

"you're insufferable you know that?" you hug yourself as you readjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder.

he runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek and looks away for a flitting second before bringing his eyes back on you, or your lips ; he's very indecisive poor boy doesn't know where to look when he has you this close to him.

"i.. i didn't know know how to tell you i'm sorry i just–"

"oh shut up,"

you practically throw yourself on him as it's the only way he'll eventually stop apologizing, one of your hands quickly wrap around his neck, to the base of his nape pulling him closer as your lips crash onto his. choso stumbles back at the contact and his hands reach instinctively on your waist for support, his body hits the desk where he stood prior and he escapes the faintest gasp at the harsh contact.

you wouldn't even have dreamed of doing this – fuck if shoko would come to know about this she'd probably laugh at you. but he's so gentle in his every moves, his every words, so naive about your motives it would be a damn shame if he knew what kind of crap person you really are. if the two of you really had to stop talking like you stated, your only wish would be to at least do this before.

choso's fingers grip more tightly on your waist, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your shirt practically playing with the hem of it. he pulls you closer and parts his lips to kiss you back avidly while your nails dig deeper around his nape at the feeling, before sliding them back along his jaw to orient his head at a better angle. you feel him exhale through his nose as you slow down your pace, slowly detaching your lips from his.

"y'taste good." he whispers against your lips, his forehead is practically touching yours and it's only now that you realize how much his features have changed within seconds. his eyes are blazed, breathless and fingers shaky around your waist. you'll blame the taste of your lips of the cherry gloss you're wearing – and he's wearing too now that his lips are shiny from it.

you're no better though, you swallow as you catch your breath, your heart is pounding in your chest so much you also hear it through the buzzing of your ears, coating the sounds around you.

"yeah? what is it, never kissed before?" you smile, you'll never get tired of teasing him, not when he always gives you the same look.

"not like that," he pants and smile back at you, a little smile that soon turns into a frown, "i.. shit, i wanna make you feel good. can i?" his voice is so low it makes your head spin.

"then do it," you kiss him once slowly and you feel him shudder at the new sensation, "make me feel good." you kiss him twice, even slower this time.

no need to say it twice for choso, if it's not you latching on him right now he definitely doesn't feel like backing down, he takes your answer for words and his hands find your cheeks instantly, cupping them as he puts a lot more pressure, making you step back. your hands lower down on his shoulders and your purse slip down your arm until it reaches the ground harshly ; not your priority number one right now.

he presses his body even closer to you and you don't need an explanatory drawing of what's happening down his pants as you feel his hard on pressed against you. you put your thigh forward, adding your own pressure against him and the moan that escapes his lips is enough to make your skin shiver and your panties tighter. much tighter.

still glued to each other, he guides you to his bed, just behind and it takes a couple steps back for your calves to hit the furniture, your body drops down the bed as you look up at him and you think he's about to slouch his own body on you, but he kneels down right before you instead.

you put your hands on the bed behind you to push yourself farther against the wall but to your – second – surprise he puts his hands flat on your knees.

"i need you right here," he soothes as he taps your knee lightly, making you stop in your movements. you don't know if he's about to do what you think he's about to do but your questions get quickly answered.

"can i?" he asks as he flicks his eyes onto your skirt, asking permission to touch it you guess. you nod eagerly and he leans back slightly to take your mary janes off instead, right foot, then to the left foot so ever carefully and putting them aside on the floor. you watch him and notice how steady and focused he looks despite his torso heaving up and down rapidly, you see it.

he straighten up on his knees and the sight has you gulping down, you're on his bed, he's on the ground just right in front of you, his eyes scan your face thoroughly you almost feel overwhelmed by it. your skirt gets pulled down easily, oh but so slowly, you prop yourself up on your elbows to make it easier for him.

"so pretty." he breathes out, he discards the piece of clothing on the floor and places both of his hands on your hips to bring your body closer to him as he easily glides you.

he leans in and his face is only inches away from your crotch, he glances at you before returning back on your clothed cunt. his thumb circles the hem of your panties as if he's admiring the sewing method and your breath hitches when his thumb drops a little lower, down where you clit hides beneath the fabrics.

"don't have all day, choso" you gulped, your hands bawl into tight fists in apprehension.

"okay–okay." he coos and immediately grant your wish ; he pulls your panties down and you're now bottom naked on his bed. it gives you a real reason to be embarrassed for sure because you didn't really "plan" on being that drenched from a single quick make out session. and the more he stares at your exposed cunt the more you grow impatient.

"choso.." you try to warn him but it comes out as a whine instead. he shifts as he gets closer to the edge of the bed, he wraps his hands under your legs to grab onto your thighs firmly.

"gonna make you feel good ok?"

"jus' do it–" you choke on your own words when you feel his tongue on you. a single lap and you're already panting in the room like a mad woman, "ffuck." you whine and your hand reaches immediately down to get a hold of something – his hair in this case which is being in his vision doesn't stop him nonetheless to complete his mission – as it's the only way you'd call it due to how devoted he looks between your legs.

he gives you a few more laps, down from your entrance to the very top on your clit, and he's diverse in his moves you'll give him that – he goes either way from the right side, then the left side, until he decides to flick his tongue against your pussy from side to side this time. you'd honestly thought the man would go down on you as his first time, his first experiment but it looks like you're the one experimenting for the first time his tongue skills – that, you don't miss to point out.

"shit- where the fuck did you learn to do that?" you pant, you push his hair back the best you can though it still falls atop of your pussy, giving you extra tingles on the way.

the sounds are purely gross, the room is nothing but a space for filth, hearing liquids collides whether it'd be his saliva on you or your slick on him. doesn't help from your restrained moans nor from his own whimpers that resonate lowly against your skin – it's almost as if he's being louder than you are.

he props your legs up onto his own shoulders when he leans down further into your pussy, getting better access while your thighs are in the air, tensing and quivering at each touch.

you start to seriously lose it when you feel pressure on your clit, getting even more stimulated your head starts to feel dizzy ; his thumb brushes against your folds to gather your juices before going up to your clit while his tongue starts to push down your entrance.

he mumbles something but you can't understand either from the pounding in your ears or because he factually has his mouth buried in your cunt.

"you feel so– fuck!" you almost cry out when he accelerates the pace on your clit "so fuckin' good shit," and before you get hold of the situation your muscles contract, your thighs wraps even tighter around choso and you're not really in the mindset to care if you're hurting him right now when you're nothing more than a trembling mess under him.

when you release the grip you have around his head with your legs, he slowly backs down and wipes under his chin with the back of his hand, breathing heavily as if he had just come flooding back from the water after a long dive. the sight has your brain rebooting from the start, simply short circuited.

"t'was okay?"

you almost feel indignation for his own self when you look at him in disbelief, "okay? thought i was losing my mind over there," you slowly sit up as you look at him with heavy lids. you probably look like you got run over.

"want me to get something to–"

he stops once he sees you getting your top over your shoulders, taking it off and throwing on the chair near his desk. you get closer to the edge of the bed, still sit up on it as you cage him between your legs since he's still kneeling on the ground.

"well.. i guess you have other plans..?" he murmurs under his breath, he doesn't even try to hide the fact he's staring, the man is practically glued to you like when kids stand too close to a tv.

"you're a perceptive one aren't you?" you leaned down to slip your fingers under his shirt, near his hips to take it off too, "unless you don't want to?" you whisper, stopping your movements to get his approval before starting anything but oh don't you dare take your hands off of him because he'll put them back on their original place.

"no–no, i do. i want you." his eyes meets yours and it's as if repentance was just knocking at your door and you don't know if you're willing to open the door because of how good he ate your pussy or because you really feel like you should do it.

"good."

you knew choso was introverted, a little shy even, the kind of men to be a little prudish even, the ones who'd rather stay indoors, the ones who's rather not get touched by anybody, even less when those places are under their clothes. you thought he was that kind of man when you'd first met him.

you got fooled. once when he mastered the technique of his tongue on you a few minutes ago that got your jaw dislocating in pleasure. but twice now that his shirt is past his torso, up to get through his head and you see yet another pair of silver jewelry. one on each of his nipples.

and your reaction is suited honestly, you just drop your arms and leave him struggling with the shirt on his own as his head is still tangled inside of it, you swear under your breath as you look at the two shiny buds. and maybe he did it as a distraction, getting two silvery eyes up his breast might be one hell of a surprise when you're trying to look at his whole torso ; but even in that case you wouldn't get why on earth you'd need to be distracted from his upper body, because what a fucking view.

once you see choso's head pop out of his t-shirt you're so turned on you're scared if you move you'll just leave the biggest pond of your slick on his covers ; you're feeling genuinely embarrassed to say the least.

"come here, get on your back." you tap on your left to show him the way on his own bed, he executes your demand without much more convincing. he lays down where his pillow rest, propping his head up a little as he still supports his body on his forearms, watching you.

which is not such a bad thing as it gets his whole upper body tensing up from the position, and you realize you got fooled thrice because of how defined his body is, muscles tracing his skin in the prettiest way.

you crawl closer to him and take his sweatpants off, throwing them along with the other remaining of clothes on the ground.

you straddle choso, only in his boxers now and he's always on the lookout for your next move, eyes traveling along every part of your body standing so close to him. you lean in to kiss him again, a simple kiss this time, not heated, nor passionate as you'd intended earlier, almost too intimate to your liking. you feel him relax under you, no, melt. he melts under your kiss, his back rests totally flat on his bed now and his hands travel along you jaw, touching you like porcelain if it were to break.

"it's only fair i return the favor, right?" you tell him as you lean near his ear, and if you chose to ignore the bulge in his underwear when you got him out off his pants you're certain you can't now. it's entirely poking through the fabrics to lean oh so perfectly against your entrance you have to fight back a moan just at the feeling. how embarrassing.

"fuck, please do." he moans, his hands get back on your hips slowly, pressing his fingers into your skin lightly. though you'd rather take some of your time, if you're in this might as well do it right.

you kiss your way down his body, from his lips, to his jaw, on his neck a few times — just because you love watching his adam's apple bobble up every time he gulps when you touch him — near his collarbones, on his torso and why not on the twins piercings he's got on it too.

at the contact of your tongue swirling around his nipples choso instantly throws his head back on his pillow, earning a deep breath from him along with a "fuckk" he couldn't bite back. at the same time your hips start to grind, slowly, cautiously, you wouldn't want to get off on his boxers now would you?

your hands reach down his boxers, under it to grab his dick but... maybe you got fooled fourth time. or maybe the saying is right, the quietest got the biggest and he's a living proof of the statement, you can attest. you break the contact on his sensitive buds and sit up correctly to look at it lay flat on his stomach, curved and strained in its own blood flow. you really have to close your mouth to not drool on it directly and you mumble something unintelligible.

his hands rest on your thighs, they try to guide you forward, they really do and you let them. you bring your hips forward, pussy gliding – as it's the only way it would be described, you're soaked – on his dick, just slipping through your wet folds, enough to mold him on the way forward, then all the way back when you return to your position. you let your hands fall on his abs, you're not even tired, you just need the support right now or else you're afraid you'll just collapse right onto him.

"God, you feel so good," you whine, grinding slowly along his cock and you honestly don't know how he's handling it down there 'cause it feels too fucking good for you.

"n-need you right now," he painfully gulps, he looks at the friction with a frown and he lowers his head back on the pillow, "shit..." he whimpers, such a wobbly voice yet he's not even inside of you thus far. you don't know who's winning the embarrassing contest but he might win over you if you keep giving him good pussy.

"so sweet. you're too fuckin' sweet y'know that?" you praise and choso's hands come directly to grab at your tits, cupping the roundness of them with both hands as he massages them slowly, pinching your nipple between his index and his thumb.

you're done with being patient actually as it is your cue to wrap your fingers around the head of his cock. you brush your thumb over his tip and his whole body jerks off from the touch, you slide your whole hand down the base of it as you pull yourself up on your knees.

you thought you'd reached the epitome of pleasure when he was between your legs just now, and you don't know what other seventh heaven you landed on when he entered you, but it was just as similar.

the head of his cock has just slipped through and you're already full of it, full of him. and you have no doubt when you look at choso that he's feeling it too. you both moan at the new feeling, a feeling you were too puerile to treat with such disdain when you looked at him, a feeling you'd never come to know if he didn't slightly hurt your ego with his kindness.

"holy shit, so fucking tight f'me.." he purrs through the whole process, his hands help you go down, steadily and slowly at your pace when more than half of his cock has sunk into you. your legs shake slightly when you've reached the end, you start to bounce up and down lazily, hearing every gushing sounds of both of your slick as they disperse through your organs.

he can't help it, you don't know if it's because you've teased him so much pior that he can't hold it in anymore, but the grip on your hips gets tighter, the bouncing up and down his cock gets messier, and even though your thighs start to feel numb you soon understand that choso has your back. his hips starts to buck back into you to meet your hips halfway, skin to skin as they collide rapidly.

"f–fuck, choso, you're gonna make m–"

"i know, i know." he soothes, you lean into him, chest to chest as you put your hands on his shoulders. and you can't help but be extremely grateful right now as you're practically laying down on him, he's fucking right into you with the help of his hands pressing down your hips as he moans in your ears softly.

"wanna make this pretty pussy mine– fuck. wanna make you mine." he whimpers and you can hear the way his throat tightens that he's close. you wouldn't wanna lie saying you're not – to be honest you've been wanting to come as soon as you hoped on his thighs.

you don't know if it's the heat of the moment, because you're taking his dick so fucking perfectly inside of you that the thought of being with him doesn't really repulse you that much, for it actually seems pleasant enough to imagine it.

"fuck–fuck-i'm gonna cum!"

and you sincerely hope nobody is in their dorms right now because you're sure the whole floor knows what their nerdy resident is doing to some resentful student on campus. he's so vocal you wouldn't have it any other way, specially when every each one of his moans reach your cunt before your ears.

you feel your legs tremble and your nails dig deeper into his skin when you reach your second orgasm, and not one for the weak ones as your pussy clenches so tightly you think you're sucking choso's dick whole with the suction. your hips get pulled up on spot when choso releases his own shot in between your bodies, his dick springing out from where it was caged. you still tremble on him when he breathes heavily, coming down to his high.

you both stay silent for a couple of seconds and reality hits you back.

"you're too good to me." he murmurs as he wipes some of the mascara under your eyes with his thumb, you head is still near the crook of his neck, you don't move.

oh only if he knew.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

"can you believe nerdy boy got laid?"

you turn to shoko almost too rapidly, "what?"

"i know, who would do that.."

you don't say anything. you don't really wanna say anything for now, but you know shoko isn't saying that just to make the conversation when she waits for an answer. a valid one.

©nabitsun !

thank you for reading :D

586 notes · View notes

laneywrld · 7 months ago

Text

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 · 9 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 · 6 months ago

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🍒 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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idksmtms · 10 months ago

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The Prettiest Trophy (Capitol Elite!Aegon II Targaryen x Games Winner!reader (Hunger Games AU)

Summary: You never thought you would make it out of the hunger games, but now you have another fight ahead of you. What do you do when one of the most powerful citizens of the capitol has chosen you to be his?

Word count: 3.5k

Trigger Warnings: 18+, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, Dub-con due to power imbalance, coercion too ig (???), some angst (reader talks about survivor’s guilt from the games), p in v s*x, unprotected s*x, oral f receiving, degradation (constantly referring to lesser status of districts), objectification and ownership, (please let me know if I missed any)

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so.

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

AN: Aaaaa my first fic finally! Didn't mean to make it this long but I got a bit carried away! I hope you enjoy! (Side note: I was imagining his hair as the style in the black and white pic, just with Targaryen white, Side note 2: I def realise the references to the way Gollum talks about the ring, IT WAS ON PURPOSE)

You never thought you would leave the arena. Every second could have been your last and you still didn’t quite believe you had made it out, that you were standing outside the President’s mansion at a lavish party, dressed in silks and jewels. No one told you how to live after the games were over. It had taken you three days just to be able to get out of bed and move around again after leaving the arena. Being at this party? It felt like a betrayal to all the people who had died so you could live. You sipped from the sickly sweet drink that almost seemed to glow in the night, and looked around the garden.

Most people had finally left you alone thankfully, though you could still see eyes turning your way, whispers and conversations pointed toward your presence in the garden. At least no one was trying to force you into a picture like some capitol celebrity anymore.

People in the most lavish costumes customary of the capitol milled about, talking, whispering, cackling like witches in their modified bodies with their modified voices. It was a horror show. The gardens had been decorated with delicate yellow fairy lights strung up in the trees and over poles around the tables. You assumed they wanted to give it a warm and welcoming look with the yellow lighting but it only cast grotesque shadows on the building that was not only the backdrop to this party, but to all your nightmares. There were tables set up with stark white tablecloths draped over them, an area cleared away for a dance floor, and more noise coming from the entrance to the mansion. Avoxes walked around carrying trays of food and drink between their hands, heads bent low, and shame began to rise inside you. What were you doing here? Why were you forced to be here?

There was someone behind you. You didn’t know when you had become so aware of any presence, probably somewhere between fending off humans and wildlife alike in the arena, and you could distinctly feel someone behind you. A slight shadow fell over your shoulders. A small touch rustled the train of your dress. Someone cleared their throat. You turned around, hands quivering, and looked at the man smirking broadly at you. Your first thought, shamefully: was he even real?

His hair was so blond it was white, cut short and combed back so perfectly he could be no less than an aristocrat. He wore a suit of dark grey over a black shirt, one of the less eccentrically dressed people at the party. But his shoes were lavish. Black and shinier than anything you had ever seen, embroidered with gold thread, gold jewellery dangling from the laces and gems stamped into the fabric. Surely this man was of the richest of the rich, because even in the capitol people were wont to have shoes so lavish. You stared at his shoes for a good minute, whole body frozen, when he cleared his throat once more. You looked at his eyes. You couldn’t tell if they were more blue or grey, like ice had formed over a stormy ocean.

“And who might you be?” He asked, mouth still smiling, before he brought his glass up to his lips and took a drink while waiting for your answer.

“You don’t know who I am?” You asked, almost taking a step back. That couldn’t be true. Viewing was mandatory, your face had been plastered across every screen in Panem for weeks, it couldn’t be true that he didn’t know you. And yet… for a moment… it felt so good not to be recognised. You were just some other girl, lost in the crowd at a party, who hadn’t gone through what you had gone through.

“Well, I may know of you, but I don’t know you know you,” his smile had softened and he stepped closer until his elbow lightly brushed yours and you were both looking out at the party.

“I suppose that’s true,” you answered quietly, still watching his face. His skin was almost as dangerously pale as his hair, and sallow, like he was never quite in the best of health. Though you couldn’t deny the truth, he was a handsome man regardless of his slightly ragged appearance.

“Aegon Targaryen the second,” he held out his hand, running his eyes over your face like he hadn’t gathered enough of it the first time, “and you?”

“Y/n L/n,” you breathed out, reaching out an unsteady hand to limply shake his own. He gently clasped your fingers and brought your hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to your knuckles before releasing your hand. It was such an odd sensation, his hot breath brushing over the back of your hand, his fingertips slightly rough - but not enough to suggest any sort of manual labour - clasping the skin of your palm. Your cheeks went hot, the tips of your ears tingling, and you continued staring at this enigma.

“How has the capitol been treating you?” He asked, chugging the rest of his drink and depositing it on the tray of an Avox as they passed by like some well-practised dance. You didn’t want to reply. “Well, I suppose you haven’t had the time to truly enjoy it. At least, not the truly fun bits anyway,” he shrugged, tilting his head and looking at you like it was a particularly amusing thing he just said.

You couldn’t understand this at all. Who was this man? What was this interaction? What did he want with you? Why was he acting so mundane, like this was normal?! None of this was normal.

Noticing the look on your face, Aegon chuckled and reached forward to push some hair over your shoulder. It took everything within you to hold in your shiver.

“Ah, you must be confused about who I am! I shouldn’t have assumed you would understand the name Targaryen. We may be famous in the capitol but who knows what goes on in the districts,” you swallowed hard and nodded, trying not to flinch at the dig. “Our family works in all sorts of sectors, for example, my uncle Daemon is responsible for manufacturing arms for the state, my younger brother Aemond works under the president in some position or other - god knows he never shuts up about it - and my father currently runs the peacekeeper program. Of course I’m expected to step up to that eventually but- I won’t bore you with the details.”

You didn’t really consider that work. You had seen the way your parents toiled in the factory every day, had seen the way every member of your family slowly became a hunchback from their work. But you weren’t going to say anything to him.

“What does your family do?” He asked, and again you almost moved out of surprise. His face seemed so sincere as he watched you, waiting for an answer.

“I’m from District 8, so my parents work the looms,” you answered slowly. You almost sounded condescending, like you were talking to someone who couldn’t quite understand your words, but Aegon understood it was the shock of him speaking to you. After all, it had only been a week since you had left the arena, he understood how difficult it would be to gain your confidence. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t try. And Aegon was a firm believer that flattery could get you anywhere, especially a girl’s bed. So he decided to change course.

“Do you see that man over there?” He pointed discreetly to a spot just to your right and you shuffled back so you could look over without being noticed. You sipped from your glass as you noticed the man, an older gentleman wearing a full fursuit topped with a lion’s mane going around his head. Even his face had been painted with fur and whiskers to resemble a lion with the body of a human. You nodded to Aegon, turning away from the man. Something about that picture made you uncomfortable in a way you had never been before. “Well, rumour has it that he wears that entire get up, face paint and all mind you, every time he fucks.” You gasped, staring at Aegon with eyes so wide they started to hurt.

“You can’t be serious,” you whispered sharply.

“I am the most serious, dearest. Why would I lie to you?” He smirked, leaning closer once more. He draped his arm over your shoulder and you stiffened for a moment before continuing to listen to his next story.

You were slowly beginning to relax in Aegon’s company as he continued to chatter to you. He no longer asked questions or expected you to speak, just pointed out people in the crowd and made colourful commentary that had you hiding your face in his shoulder and giggling against the fabric of his suit. He gazed at you with sparkling eyes full of mirth and shared his ever-full glass of whatever drink they were serving at the time. You couldn’t help but be charmed. Maybe, just maybe, not everyone in the capitol was as bad as they seemed.

“D’you wanna go somewhere quieter?” He finally asked after completely relieving another stranger of their dignity. You took a moment to catch your breath and looked at him, at the sudden darkening of his eyes and the way his tongue poked out to lick his lips. He watched you like a tiger readying to pounce. You nodded without a second thought. Though he had made the party bearable, anywhere would be better than here. He smiled and reached down, sliding his fingers over your inner wrist, then your palm, then grasping your hand in his own. “Come on.”

Aegon led you into the house and up the stairs, nodding at random people (who sometimes you could barely recognise as people), skilfully dodging attempts at conversation. Up and up the lavish stairs you went before walking down a large hallway and stopping in front of a wall. Aegon pushed at the wall and it gave way, revealing a spiral staircase in the dark that led up into an abyss.

“Um, are you sure you know where you’re going?” You asked, pausing at the entrance to the rather dingy looking chamber.

“There are some perks to having been at the president’s mansion practically since I was born. One of those being secret access to the roof, now come on!” He dragged you into the dark and shut the door behind him, before ushering you up the first steps.

The staircase really wasn’t all that tall. In fact, you could see the top and light bled down from the opening. Your heels clanked against each step and you almost toppled back into Aegon more than once. Then you were at the top. Then you could see the whole Capitol. Oh it was breathtaking! The whole city, laid out before you like a miniature scene to play with. There were lights glimmering in houses and cars on the roads and life! There were signs of life everywhere. Oh you couldn’t believe it. You almost believed you could see to the very edges of Panem.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Aegon asked, and you turned to meet his eyes. Both of you had moved right to the edge of the rooftop so you could look out over the party, and he moved to stand directly behind you. You could feel his chest press into your back. The fabric of his shirt rubbed against the skin of your back and he was a solid pressure behind you, like the comfort of a wall at your back when you slept. “Hm?” He asked again, bending his head down to run his nose up your neck. You shivered, the light graze was just ticklish enough to start a spark inside of you.

“Yes,” you breathed out, clenching your hands on the concrete to stop yourself from leaning back into him. You didn’t know him. You didn’t really know him. You didn’t know him at all.

“You know,” he began slowly, hands going to your shoulders and turning you around to face him. “When I first saw you on the television, the day of the reaping, I knew you would win.” Your breath caught in your throat. Your mouth was so dry. You wished you hadn’t discarded that sweet drink so quickly. “And look at you now,” he leaned in closer, cupping your face to force your eyes to meet his, “you’re the winner, the greatest person in Panem, to come out of the districts anyway.” He gently kissed your right cheek, warm lips on plush skin, and when he pulled away the breeze cooled the hint of saliva he had left behind. “You’re the greatest treasure one could possess, you know?” He kissed your other cheek, firmer this time, like he was trying to leave the imprint of his lips on your skin. “Everyone knows the winner of the Hunger Games, and to say you own them? To parade them on your arm for everyone to see, saying you own the very concept of survival?” He seemed to groan in pleasure, and then everything was moving.

His lips were on yours, slightly wet and forceful. His tongue was delving into your mouth, tasting like sugar, too much sugar, and you wanted to pull back because it was so overwhelming and everything he had just said and and and… and it felt so good too. It was warm, and desperate, like no one had ever been for you before.

A hand moved into your hair and grasped the strands at the back of your head tight, pulling slightly to tilt your head back so you had to look up at him. He was almost leaning over you so your spine bent over the edge of the roof, and the skin of your back scratched against the unpainted concrete. He huffed against your mouth then pulled back, his other hand coming up to trace your mouth with his thumb. You stared into his eyes but he wasn’t looking back at you, not really anyway. He was watching his prize, the reward that no one but him deserved.

You whimpered, a small and pathetic sound that only seemed to make his skin hotter, and he let go of your hair to begin pulling the straps of your dress down your arms. It was a heavy thing, and it felt good to finally be rid of the weight, but you were keenly aware of the cold night and the party in full swing just underneath you. If someone in the garden decided to look up, they would surely see you bent over the edge.

“Wait-” you began to protest, but Aegon was past listening, past caring. He just shoved the dress under your breasts and down your legs, before grabbing your face and bringing your mouth to his own again. His hands travelled over your neck, then caressed your shoulders. He gently pressed the red indents the straps of the dress had left and you sighed into his mouth, leaning onto his chest. Your nipples rubbed against the fabric of his shirt and you gasped into the kiss before moving your chest slightly. The warm little tingles travelled all the way through your torso and you clung to his arms.

Aegon kissed sloppily over your cheeks, your neck, pausing to bite into it until you grunted with pain and pushed at his shoulder. He licked all the way down to your chest, his tongue warm and wet, then the slick trail of spit suddenly cold. Your legs felt unsteady, and you leaned back against the barrier as he began mouthing at your breasts, little circles of warmth formed everywhere he kissed, and then his mouth closed over your nipple and you clenched. It was so… weird. A wet suction formed over your nipple and it seemed to make the inside of your breast spark, your stomach jolt, and the space between your thighs tingle and turn to mush.

“Come on precious,” he mumbled against your skin, “you can be louder,” and he bit the flesh. It really was a live wire attached to your skin, so easy to spark, so easy to create a fire that spread all throughout your body.

Aegon was quicker with the other nipple, licking over it like a dog with a bowl of water, before making his way down to the apex of your thighs. He seemed to be in a hurry with the way he dove his face between your legs. A cry left your lips, loud and shriek-like, at the overwhelming activity. His nose slipped between your lips and pressed to your clit, his tongue out and flat and lapping against the sticky slick that covered the puffy folds that hid your hole. He was ravenous, pressing his face in in in until you stood on your tiptoes and half your weight was balanced against his face. The contours of his face pressed at your hole, his nose rubbed at your clit, and he moved his face back and forth so his tongue could poke inside of you then slip back into his mouth. He began speaking into you, rumbling words you couldn’t understand over the rushing in your head.

“Come on, cum on my face,” he huffed, grabbing your thighs and licking at your clit until it was puffy and swollen. “I wan’ you to cum on my face, give me what I want.” He pressed his tongue inside you. In. Out. He licked your clit. In. Out. He sucked it into his mouth, and your legs shook so much that you would’ve fallen onto the floor if you weren’t practically laying on the barrier already. It was a release. That’s all it could be called. Every muscle clenched then released. Even your mind felt like it had slowly been clenching and now it had been unravelled and was slowly dripping out of your skull.

“Fuck, that’s right,” Aegon mumbled as he pulled away, standing to full height and pulling your hips against his own. His hair had fallen forward into his eyes and his mouth and nose glistened in the low light, but he didn’t seem to care one bit. He had leaned over your body again, pressing his face into your neck. The slick on his chin stuck to your skin and squished whenever he moved. He humped into you a few times, grunting and groaning, before hurriedly reaching down and fumbling with his belt and zipper. You could hear the clanking of metal, the rustle of fabric, and then something warm pressing to your thigh.

There was no waiting with Aegon. His body simply didn’t contain the patience for it, and really why would you wait when the prize you had so long coveted lay bare before you, just ripe for the taking? A shift here, a push there, and he caught at your entrance. He finally pulled away from your neck and looked into your eyes. He caressed your cheek, and you could tell all he saw was a trophy he had just won.

Then Aegon pressed into you, and his veins rubbed at your slick insides, pressing against your walls and sliding against your own textured flesh and you were leaning back to moan into the night sky, chest heaving. He kissed your breasts and pushed into you again, his lower stomach pressing your clit. Again, he moved into you and the sparks flashed and you clenched around him, onto him, and he moaned against your ear, hot breath fanning the shell.

“Fuck yes, you’re my precious little thing aren’t you? Huh? You’re my special little prize?” His hips slapped against yours and the sound echoed over the roof. His mouth biting into your neck sent sparks through you. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth and oh god it was too much! You clenched onto him and screamed into his neck, open mouth pressed to the sweaty skin. You clenched and unclenched onto him as waves passed through you, melting your flesh and your bones. It was over too soon yet it lasted too long. He pushed once more, twice more, and you could feel him quiver against you, even as you tried to push him away from the pulsing flesh of your insides. You could feel the spurts inside you, hot and gushing. You felt it trickle out of you, slide down your thighs in warm rivulets and you shuddered.

Aegon still lay on top of you, huffing heavily into your neck. You didn’t know what to do, so you stayed still, waiting for guidance, waiting for the other shoe to fall. He slowly pushed up on his arms so his face hovered above yours, and he smiled a dazed and delirious smile. Was it always there, or had it just appeared, that insanity in his eyes?

“Oh my precious,” he sighed, cupping your cheek, “we have so much ahead.”

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its-time-to-write · 1 year ago

Note

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 · 3 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.

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

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kodamaghost00 · 10 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 · 13 days ago

Text

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 · 7 months ago

Note

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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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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