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povlnfour · 9 months

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ TALES OF CANDOR (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!author!reader

summary: lando’s girlfriend has a secret identity. she’s not quite the girl next door everyone assumed, and he might just be the inspiration for more than just her instagram captions.

warnings: some hate comments

* faceclaim: mélanie, aka wailcester on ig (please imagine her as you see fit)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

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landonorris some days @ home

👤 tagged yourusername

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user i hope ur enjoying ur time off!

user no hate but like what does his gf actually do?

user literally nothing she’s jobless💀

user it’s giving🏅👷‍♀️

user lando i love u but half naked pics of ur girl isn’t helping how much we dislike her…

user what’s she reading!!!

yourusername a thousand splendid suns by khaled hosseini!!

user ofc u are. i totally believe u acc read well written books. u probably just read gossip columns but want to seem interesting🙄

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor biscuit approves of the final draft🤍

👤 tagged acatcalledbiscuit

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user HELLO??? CANDOR DOES THIS MEAN WE R GETTING A NEW BOOK

user i love that we know more abt candy’s cat than we do her…

user can’t wait to read it🥹🥹

rickriordan has to be my favorite thing you’ve written!

user RICK’S READ IT??? OH YOU KNOW ITS GOOD

user lando norris in the likes he’s just like all of us fr

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername ‘when she finally got the camera film developed, seeing his face made it all come rushing back’🦋🫧🧚🏻

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user im sorry i know we r meant to be supportive but she annoys me sm. is she just living off of lando’s money?

user omg the caption!!!

user i recognise it, where’s it from?

user it’s from ‘tales of peter rourke’ by candor!!!

user 🤢

user we get it… ur dating someone rich. now get a job!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren interview

[captions:

interviewer: what have you been up to in your break?

lando: a lot of lounging around with my girlfriend. read a few books too!

interviewer: anything good?

lando: i’m really into magical reality at the moment! that kind of it’s all normal till it’s not stuff, you know?

interviewer: any good recommendations?

lando: if you like that same genre, i recommend ‘the right side of upside’ by candor! it’s pretty recent, i finished it last week.]

comments

user he likes candor??? he’s so real for that

user KNEW I COULD TRUST HIM

user bad taste in women good taste in books

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor thank you for all the love lately on ‘the right side of upside’. insane seeing so many of you recommend it, biscuit and i are eternally grateful. love, candy🤍

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user QUEEN DID YOU SEE LANDO RECOMMENDED IT

user CANDY HAS A MAN???

user love u forever ur so talented

user CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOU DO NEXT. CANT BELIEVE WE HAVE TO WAIT NOW

musingsofcandor it might be sooner than you think ;)

user UM. candor is this a soft launch?????

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

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landonorris got some super helpful race advice today

👤 tagged acatnamedbiscuit, musingsofcandor

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user OH MY GOD MY WORLDS ARE COLLIDING

user LANDO WE NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING IS SHE CUTE I FEEL LIKE SHES CUTE

user break up w ur gf and date candor when

musingsofcandor biscuit says he can’t be held responsible for the outcome🐾

landonorris can i hold you responsible instead, candy?

user UHHHH WHATS GOING ON HERE

user i just know y/n is feeling THREATENED

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername all mine

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user LMAOOO U STARTED SWEATING HUH

user candor could steal ur man if she really wanted to

user GIRL YOU’RE SO OBVIOUS

landonorris yours🖤

user STOP LYINGGGG

ੈ✩‧₊˚ an exclusive interview with candor : entertainment weekly

interviewer: so candor! tell us how it really feels having the world at your feet!

candor: [laughing] honestly quite normal! it’s a blessing and a curse, really, not having my identity revealed. i get to live my life without those pressures, but i don’t get to see anyone and thank them for reading!

interviewer: do you ever get the urge to approach someone reading one of your books?

candor: all the time! whenever i go browsing in book stores and see someone looking at or buying mine, i have such a temptation to scream THANK YOU at them!

interviewer: do you see a future in which you reveal your identity?

candor: maybe! there are a few of my fans who know who i am, those who attend the secret events and signings, but i’m very lucky that they all respect my privacy and haven’t shared anything further. perhaps one day soon i’ll finally let everyone in on the secret.

interviewer: and we can’t talk to you and not bring up your cat — or rather, who your cat met the other day…?

candor: oh! i’m assuming you mean lando norris? yes! he’s a pretty good friend of mine, he’s been a big support over the last few years and we found some time in our schedules last week to meet up.

interviewer: so you’re a formula 1 fan?

candor: huge fan! i’m a big mclaren girl so lando and i met through their events!

interviewer: oh fantastic! see folks reading this, she really is just like us!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername cars going vroom vroom makes my heart go boom boom

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user lmao posting before and after candor’s interview. girl ur not subtle.

user im so sorry but ur clearly so threatened it’s hilarious

user i don’t get all the hate in here??? she’s just in love n happy?

user shes a gold digger

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor told you it wouldn’t be long🫧 ‘thomasin jeffe, the cat, and the diplomat’ will be with you next friday. a lot of love poured into this one over the past few years, i just couldn’t wait any longer to give it to you🤍

already a member on my website? check your emails🦋

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user WHDHSJSJSJSJS

user OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING

user THE EMAILLLLL🥹

user candy omg where do you live that looks so pretty!!!!

musingsofcandor monaco !!

landonorris 🖤

user lando using the black heart and candor using the white… i’m sorry to his gf (not really) but they’re meant to be

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a photo

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user the best day of my life!!! thank you so much candor for being the absolute sweetest human and taking time to talk to each and every one of us! i cannot wait to read thomasin jeffe, the cat, and the diplomat🥹🤍

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user YOU MET HERRRRE???

user WHO IS SHE TELL TELL TELL

user candor asks us not to share her identity so i’m gonna respect that but LET ME TELL YOU I WAS SHOCKED

user i recognise her from just that inch of her face but i can’t tell whERE FROM

musingsofcandor it was WONDERFUL to meet you! i hope you enjoy the story🤍

user wish people on twitter were as kind as this,,, there’s photos of her going around :/

ੈ✩‧₊˚ f1wags just posted a photo

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f1wags the internet has been in PIECES after famous author candor’s recent book signing. photos have emerged of the popular anonymous author from the event, revealing her to be none other than LANDO NORRIS’ GIRLFRIEND, Y/N! turns out, she has a job after all👀 (pictures taken from y/n’s instagram!)

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user i… cannot believe this

user see. when y’all were hating on her you were secretly worshipping her

user @ everyone who was an arse to y/n… KARMA IS A BITCH!

user WHAT????

user HOLY SHIT LANDO HAS BEEN DATING MY FAV AUTHOR THIS WHOLE TIME????

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername well. the secrets out. it’s been a long few years, but it’s nice to not have to hold it in any more.

both my accounts will remain active for separate purposes, but i’m excited to be able to introduce you to candor as she is in her whole truth — just like her name suggests🤍

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user ironically this is exactly how i picture marian elsie from thomasine jeffe looking. full fairy

user i am. so sorry. so so so sorry. i know nothing can ever compare for the things we said but i really am

yourusername thank you. no hard feelings on my end🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

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landonorris my candy. it may not have been how you intended, but i’m glad i get to show off how proud of you i am.

i’ve watched you as both candor and y/n for a while now, and i love both versions of you entirely. i cannot wait to see what you do now you have the freedom to be whoever you want to.

and hey, pretty cool to be able to say i’m the inspiration behind some of your characters, huh?🖤

ps. so glad i can finally share photos of mY CAT. even if he does hate me biscuit is MINE as well

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user love the clarification that the most important thing to lando is sharing photos of his cat😭😭

user MORE PICS OF BISCUIT PLEASE

user i’ve always been in love with her i can say that confidently

user oh so you’re a successful fanboy

yourusername biscuit told me to tell u ur smelly for using him for likes

landonorris you literally said to me omg i can post about biscuit now YOU FEEL THE SAME DONT LIE

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor i’ve had a bit of inspiration for some time🤍

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user MOM AND DAD

user i can’t believe this. my worlds are colliding

user I KNEW CAPTAIN ROURKE FELT FAMILIAR IN THE TALES OF PETER ROURKE

user i can’t believe my fav ever love interest is based on lando….

landonorris i love you. thanks for immortalising me🖤

————

a/n: hello hello! another one whilst i recover!

so this was based on an anon request and i have had so much fUN writing it!!!! whilst i don’t normally do requests generally due to being overwhelmed easily, this one stood out to me as i Love books so i was inspired. to the anon who requested, i hope this is what you imagined🤍

in terms of further requests! whilst i can’t promise i’ll do them, if you have any pressing ideas you think would work with my style , do feel free to send them in ! i always love to hear your ideas (and any thoughts on my works!! please send feedback as well!!) and will try gradually to get through some🤍

fun fact: all the book titles are based on actual books i have written hehe

fun fact pt2: yes her pseudonym is chosen bc i watched divergent last night

taglist (found in pinned post): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35

#f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris au #mclaren #lando norris blurb #lando norris scenario #lando norris one shot #lando norris smau

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tothosewhoyearnforit · 2 months

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am i yours or are you mine - chaewon

-im back. might edit this later

-trying to finish my drafts so maybe have hope im posting more.

-2373 words. student-teacher relationship. daddy kink. oral. deepthroat. pussyeating. unprotected sex. breeding? creampie. happy bday chae chae !

Am I yours or are you mine?

Chaewon asked that question right before she was bobbing her head up and down on your length, a mixture of drool and precum trailing, dripping down onto her skirt.

You look at the neatly decorated bed, the work of none other than you. Illegal as it is for a professor to be in a student’s dorm room without any prior permission, any risk is worth fucking Chaewon. It's even riskier considering the fact that her roommate, Yunjin, shares the same room as her, could waltz in at anytime.

But you know she won’t tell. After all, you're dicking her down too. Gosh, her lips, so meant for dick sucking.

You look at the gorgeous slut squatting for you obscenely, her legs spread as she slobbered over your meat, dressed in her school girl outfit, feeding even more to your ill desires.

Was it really her birthday? Or was this “present” for you?

She unsheathes your raging erection, and rests your cock on her right cheek, stroking your length while staring at you.

The sheer size of your cock against her face was feeding into your size kink way too much, it was almost like one of those porno pairings where a burly buff dude fucks the brains out of the tiniest pornstar.

“Aren’t you unusually hard today professor?”

“I- You’re just so hot today Chaewon…”

“It’s the student outfit isn’t it, you sick pervert.”

She chuckles at your stammering.

“Looks like my reward is about to be a big one.”

And with that, she goes back down on your length, this time wrapping your arms around the underside of your thighs and increasing the pace at which she gobbles your length up. The amount of sticky, viscous liquid that's dripping down from her chin secretes at an even greater rate and your mind is practically going wild at the mere sight of your student slutting herself.

“Oh, fuck, Chaewon…”

Toes curling, head thrown back, it’s only been a week since you both last fucked, yet it felt like forever.

“Are you close daddy?”, she asks as she takes your shaft out to take a breath. Her pearly round eyes stare up at you and you realize the innocence you're destroying. She then sucks on your tip for a good few seconds, that tongue of hers being used to lick so accurately at your slit that you feel a prickly sensation rush down to your toes and fingertips. Then, she pushes her head down all the way and hollows her cheeks out, her tongue now making lazy, sloppy movements on the underside of your length. Her hands peel yours off from your awfully tight grip on the bedsheets and place it at the back of her head, gesturing for you to push her head down.

“Fuck, Chaewon, gonna shoot my load so deep down your throat…”

You push her head down till you feel her tiny nose on your pelvis and your balls rest on her chin. She’s so ready to choke on your cock. So ready to accept your load. In her warmth, your cock is throbbing like mad.

“Fuck, fuck, fucking cumming down your throat Chae!”

Her hands tighten their grip on your legs as she braces for your load. And as if saying a prayer, all your lips mumble out are feeble mentions of her name.

One spurt.

After another.

And another, as she slowly removes herself from your cock, her suction never ending.

She opens her mouth while cum is still spurting out of your tip and a splash of the pearly white liquid lands on her cheek. Inside her mouth, a pool of potential kids get sloshed around by her playful tongue before she gulps it down and savors the taste with a resounding “ahh”.

“Thanks for the thick, warm load daddy.”

She uses her finger to swipe the cum on her cheek into your mouth.

“But I’m going to need a rough fucking tonight.”

She peels her thin black thong off and places it in your palm. It's full of moisture and warmth, the naughty student is oh so ready for her private tutoring.

After climbing out of her shirt and skirt, she lies on the bed and spreads her legs and with two fingers, spreads her pussy lips. She’s inviting you in, like a deer on a barren flowery field and you’re the wolf, ready to pounce.

“Come give your favorite student a nice hands on lesson, professod.”

“Such a disobedient student, always teasing the professor.”

You climb onto the bed, and dive your head right between her inviting legs. Her legs instinctively close up on you, like those of a Venus flytrap, but you use your hands and push them away, spreading her legs even further than they were before.

“I just shaved yesterday, just for you, sir.”

“Such a good girl, but a bit of hair isn't against school rules you know…”

You place gentle loving kisses on her inner thigh before running your tongue against her slickening heat.

“I’ve missed my favorite student's top tier pussy so much…”

“Oh, fuck…That’s it daddy. Ravage my pussy.”

Chaewon is just like how you were not too long ago, a whimpering mess, at the mercy of the one giving head.

She tastes so good, a complete diorama of flavors hitting your palate at once. Sweet like a sakura with a hinge of bitterness reminding you how lewd and taboo this very act of eating out your own student is.

You feel the vibrations she sends as her hands are unable to support her anymore as you probe your tongue deeper and deeper into her slick, causing her to lie back onto the hotel bed while her hands find your head, her fingers running through your hair.

Looking up at her, you can see her toned body, her abs, her perky tits, it seems like basketball is doing its magic in keeping her fit. You look at her hard nipples heaving up and down as a result of her heavy breaths and you can't resist bringing your hands up and giving those nubs a pinch.

“Fuck, wait, sir. I’m so sensitive right now.”

She’s moaning more and more now. The walls of the dorm room might not be thick enough, and a professor leaving the student dorms so late at night? Surely someone is going to suspect something.

The next dorm room definitely won't say anything, that's for sure. It belongs to another two of your cock slave students, the Japanese duo of Kazuha and Sakura.

Heck, you’re even banging the milfy dorm keeper, Tiffany.

Maybe to escape, you’d just have to fuck your way out of the dorm building.

You’re probing your tongue even deeper now, sucking on her clit as well. Every drop getting past your lips is so damn addictive that you can't detach yourself for anything other than to inhale.

“Fuck, daddy! I’m gonna fucking-!”

Her back arches further than it ever has, as she climaxes. Her body convulses due to the stimulation she’s received, and instinctively, her legs close around you, thighs squeezing your head shut, the flytrap of Venus herself secreting the sweet substance for the poor fly (you) to be devoured by.

Akin to the fly, you're sucking in all the precious Chaewon juice, her little “ahhs” and tiny aftershocks showing how good of a job you're doing.

“Oh… That felt so good.”

She’s heaving sighs of relief, slowly calming down from her high. But you. You fucking rock hard, as if you didn’t just shoot a pent up load down her throat.

You flip her over to doggy style in a horny hurry and she yelps in surprise.

Running your finger between her pussy lips, you trace your way up to her puckered asshole.

“Since it's your special day, I let you choose which hole gets destroyed first. Your tight little pussy getting a fresh load shot straight into your womb? Or this tight fuckhole that’s sure to leave you unable to sit properly?”

She looks back at you.

Both are new options to her. She hasn't felt a warm load all the way in her womb since you always keep a pack of condoms in your drawer at the staff room. And anal always requires lube which neither of you want to bring around.

“I’m feeling dangerous today, prof. How bout I take the pill tomorrow morning, but you empty all the cum you have into your favorite student pussy?”

“I would love nothing more, my top slut.”

Lining yourself up behind her, you give that perky little butt a cheeky slap.

“Such a cute butt, always teasing me as you walk into class.”

“Is it really teasing if you pound it senselessly afterward?”

Chaewon deprives you of the chance to savor the initial penetration, slowly pressing her hips into your pelvis as your tip parts her folds. Your hands find their way onto each respective ass cheek, holding on for stability as you inch your way into her tight pussy.

“Always so fucking tight and warm for me. Feels exactly like a virgin’s pussy. That’s why you're my favorite cocksleeve.”

“Thank you professor. Kazuha kept saying you liked her pussy more. I found that so hard to believe.”

“In terms of folding her into the lewdest positions possible, nobody is beating her. But your pussy is so tight that you don't need any positions.”

The way her walls of muscles wrap around your cock makes you dreamy as you pick up the pace and thrust your hips even more in her.

“Ah, fuck! So fucking big daddy!”

Soon, your hips are donning a mind of their own, thrusting mercilessly and harshly as the slapping of skin on skin becomes more and more frequent. Your mind is sending messages to your mouth, but all you can make out is “fuck” and “ohh”.

When she looks back at you, she has a face full of bliss and lust, a small indication that you can go faster, destroy her pussy with less hesitation.

It really begs the question again.

Am I yours or are you mine?

You give her right ass cheek another slap. The red hand print becomes more and more prominent, just like how loud her screams are becoming with each slap. There’s no need to worry if she’s feeling hurt or not, because you know for sure that her mind is in a state of only euphoria, drunk on your cock moving in and out of her pussy faster than she can think.

“Such a good slut. Willing to spend her birthday with her perverted professor rather than her friends.”

“Nothing beats your cock daddy. Nothing.”

Those words fuel your engine even more, giving you renewed energy to go faster.

“DADDY!”

She screams ever so obscenely. Anybody studying or sleeping would be sure to be in a state of shock.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum so hard over daddy’s dick.”

You put both her hands together behind her back, handcuffing them with one hand of your own, then pulling her towards you till your face is buried in her neck and you can whisper against her neck.

You can feel the sweat that has collected on your two bodies, a result of your hot, intense lovemaking session.

“Then cum baby girl. Cum as much as you want.”

You make your thrusts as fast as you can possibly go, and the sounds she makes sound like a jackhammer go ham on the ground.

“Yes, daddy, yes, yes, yes, yes. Fuck your slut stupid daddy so you can teach me all again.”

You feel her muscles tense up for that brief moment as she finally cums. Her core is no longer even trying to keep her in that kneeling position. She is squealing, squirting, spraying her slick juices onto the walls and onto your cock as you hold onto her to keep her upright.

But your thrusts never cease, as you can feel the throbbing of your cock once again, a huge climax on the nigh.

“Cum in me please daddy. Shoot your load deep in me daddy.”

You’re so fucking close.

“Think about how you might get your favorite student pregnant, sir. We could become fuck partners for life.”

And that about does it for you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”, you growl, the intensity of your voice matching how hard your hips are thrusting, smacking her butt.

You don't even make it back in fully before the cum starts shooting.

Your thrusts are now timed according to your spurts of cum, Chaewon moaning with each lazy thrust of warm semen that she feels getting pumped to her womb.

“iloveyouiloveyouiloveyoumylittleslutstudent” is all you can muster into the crook of her neck while Chaewon replies with whimpers and heavy pants.

The throbbing finally subsides, and every fiber of your being finally registers how vigorous you have been fucking your student and fatigue kicks in. You let go of your grip on her hands and let her slump on her bed, before you eventually join her.

“Feels so fucking warm daddy…”, she mutters in between heavy breaths.

She sits up as you stay lying down, body completely exhausted. She gets into the same position she did when she first got onto the bed and spreads her pussy lips for you again. The fresh, warm cum that you just deposited, slowly spilling onto the sheets.

Chaewon pushes two fingers into her creampied pussy and scoops some baby batter up and licks it off her fingers, before scooping any spillage and pushing it back into her pussy.

It’s such a lewd sight that you feel your cock twitching back to life.

“You might have just knocked me up, professor.”

She looks briefly at the digital clock on the wall.

“It’s Thursday, meaning I have no lessons tomorrow.”

Climbing over you, facing away from you such that her ass is staring right at you, she spreads her cheeks apart, showing you her asshole clench and release. She looks back and smiles.

“You’ve completed just 2 out of 3 of the lesson module daddy. Time for the final teaching right daddy?”

It’s bout to be a long fucking night.

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #chaewon smut #le sserafim smut

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shadesoflsk · 6 months

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THE OLD WAY

pairing: Leon Kennedy x fem reader

summary: Living at a farm and being married surely has it perks. However, Leon can't help but think something is missing.

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (fem receiving) p in v, mating press (??), creampie, breeding kink, outdoor sex, age gap (unspecified), established relationship, fluff, Leon is so husband in this, mentions of pregnancy, domestic bliss.

word count: 4k

author's note: Hello! I had this fic in my drafts for sooo long. I was kind of ashamed to post this since it's not my usual type of content but !!! fuck it !! Ovulation goes brrr. I hope you all like it!I had an older Leon in mind but I used a re6 leon pic for funsies. (And please... don't judge the lack of creativity in my title... I didn't know what to write.)

MY MASTERLIST

City life was no longer fitting for a man like him. Job was not the same and he was afraid he might not get up from one of his falls one day. Joints no longer worked like they used to, a painful reminder of how his age was getting to him.

That's why he chose to retire, rather early for the average citizen. But he believes his position as a federal agent has aged him to the point where he could easily describe himself as an 80 years old man who needed help crouching down.

With that in mind, he wasted no time buying a home away from civilization. Money was no problem and owning a ranch now sounded like the best idea he could come up with. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and months into years. Time seemed to flow faster as he settled down in a peaceful lifestyle.

Solitude was very much welcomed. The sounds of blood dripping and ragged screams were replaced by the soft pitty patter of the rain and the usual rooster’s crow each morning, announcing a new day.

But, as much as he has grown to love and appreciate his simplistic routine, the monotonous daily work and the lack of companionship were hitting him hard. When night came and his thoughts clouded his rational side, he yearned for a change in his life. He was never the romantic type, never been. His previous job as an agent cut off any possibilities of having a partner and settling down like any normal person would. But years made him a sappy man, it seemed.

Life works in mysterious ways, though. He wouldn’t have thought that farm life would bring him a sweet thing like you. It all started with your car breaking down a few meters away from his farm. You wanted to thank him for his help, there was no way you would simply express your gratitude through words, not after his assistance.

So, your first visit consisted of a home-baked pie which he reluctantly accepted. Not because he didn’t want to but it had been a while since he was last gifted something. That first meeting soon turned into a couple until you were basically there every day.

“Stay with me,” shifted into a “Be my girlfriend” and therefore the “Marry me?” finally came.

You were the best thing that has ever happened in his life, a peaceful life away from any danger the city may bring and a beautiful wife by his side? God granted him the most perfect miracle ever.

He followed the milestones of your relationship to a T. Even though the lack of knowledge was sometimes obvious, he knew the basics of how to keep a girl—his girl— happy. It was in his nature to provide, and living with you meant no exception.

He always strived to do better, to be better. Your needs were always met and he took pride in knowing he was your husband. No one else but him.

However, he felt selfish when none of that actually fulfilled him. He was happy with you, don’t get him wrong. Nothing was like before when he thought he would die alone with no one who cared about him. But something in the back of his mind kept bothering him.

And ever since he realized something was missing, he couldn't help but try to find out what it was.

For days and weeks, he tried picturing the change both of you needed. More pets? You had enough with the dog you both have. Vacations? He had already taken you to the beach. More space in your home? The house at the farm was alright… Maybe a little too big for just the two of you.

Oh.

Oh…

The problem was the two of you. Or rather, being just the two of you on this big ranch.

He had come to realize that he could, in fact, dream bigger. A few years ago, he would have thought that being married was a faraway dream, unachievable and stupid. But now he’s a husband and maybe if he tries hard enough, he can get to be a family man.

However, nobody has taught him how to face these types of situations. Even when he asked you to be his wife, he needed months of preparation. How was he going to explain this desire to put a baby in you?

On one peaceful night, he was spooning you as always. It was his favorite activity after taking care of his chores at the farm (and even doing some of yours just so you could relax more). But even when there was nothing but a comforting silence, his thoughts wouldn’t stop flooding his mind.

He let one of his hands rest on your abdomen, caressing the skin there with circular motions. He tried closing his eyes to prevent more of those thoughts from coming to his mind yet it was useless. His imagination was running wild when he pictured you carrying a life in your belly, swollen and round, the perfect scenario.

He imagined taking care of you. Of course, his pretty wife won’t do anything if she’s next to him. There was no way he wouldn’t take that opportunity to show her how much of a man, a good man he was.

Pressing a kiss to your cheek as he rested behind you, he spoke before even thinking what he was supposed to say.

“You would be a good mom, you know?” It slipped out of his mouth, he should’ve used a more discreet way of speaking his mind. Now it was too late to draw back.

“What?” You chuckled as you turned your head to look at Leon. “I’d look great as a mom?”

“Yeah.” He whispered, finally admitting his desire to have a family. “What do you think?”

He wouldn’t push the matter if you don’t feel the same. As much as he loved the idea of having mini versions of both of you, there was no way he would force you to do it.

“Mhm… I think you’d also be a great dad.” Your voice was as soft as his, indulging in this little moment of intimacy and raw honesty.

The word dad rings in his mind. His life before having his ranch was violence-filled, then years of solitude surrounded by nothing but nature cornered him to think that being alone was his destiny. Now, you brought him a newfound desire to come back home and finding you and your child. A family.

“You think so?”

“Absolutely.”

Leon had a silly smile formed on his face. His dreams were actually achievable and domesticity and tranquility were now his everyday life.

“We can try if you want.” You added, feeling how Leon continued drawing shapes on your stomach. “How many would you like?”

Leon didn’t think he would get this far.

“Want me to be honest?” Leon’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “I wouldn’t mind having an entire football team with you.” He joked, hearing how you gasped in response.

“Leon!” You slapped his hand out of your abdomen. “I’m the one having them!”

Both of you laughed as the night embraced both of you like a blanket. Confessions have never been so much welcomed as tonight’s.

“I love you.” He murmured as his eyes closed. It was a reassurance that whatever life had in store for both of you, he would gladly accept it.

“I love you more.” You replied with the same fondness as always. Drifting off to sleep was easier than ever.

Days passed and the conversation wasn’t forgotten. Nonetheless, you let the flow of time and life decide for both of you.

Daily chores needed to be completed no matter what. So, he’s now washing his hands after feeding the horses. You’re holding the garden hose which makes a wet mess given the force of the water.

“Didn’t know it was raining.” Leon jokes as the water soaks his shirt and pants.

“Shit, sorry.” You turn off the garden hose as you giggle watching how drenched Leon looks.

And while you are genuinely sorry since Leon still has things to do on the farm, you can’t help but appreciate the image your husband is offering. White shirt now see-through, giving you the perfect view of his soft abdomen clinging to the fabric.

When you first met Leon, he had told you what an amazing body he had. With so much pride, he once showed you pictures of his past self. Images of a toned torso and strong arms would look appealing to your eyes. But each time Leon and you are intimate, you get to feel his slightly rounder belly pressed against you, his strong arms clinging to you. In those moments you can’t help but thank God for the gorgeous man you have.

“Enjoying the view?” Leon breaks the silence when he feels your eyes not leaving his body.

“Maybe…” You quietly whisper as you drop the hose and walk closer to him. “Can’t help it, my husband is so handsome.” You add, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. Inevitably, you inhaled the scent you have grown to love.

For a moment, you stay there, just drowning in the affection letting your hands rest on his sides unaware of how Leon could feel the slight friction of your breasts against his soaked shirt. The thin fabric of your dress does a poor job of preventing Leon’s hands from wandering around your body.

A pool of arousal starts setting in Leon as he reaches your ass and gives it a firm squeeze.

With one swift and smooth move, he lifts you off the ground. Your feet are no longer touching the floor as Leon walks away from the barn. And, as if on command, you wrap your legs around his torso, allowing him to walk easier to whatever destination he had in mind.

For once, Leon hates the fact that he owns a big ass farm. His place is a bit far away from the barn, so his decisions are fogged by the desire and neediness he is feeling at the moment. Years in solitude led him to think he was imponent but with the way his jeans seem to get tighter each time your lower half brushes against his, he knows it's not true.

He is a gentleman, don’t get him wrong. He’d have picked you up and carried you to his bedroom as usual, laid you on the bed, taken off your clothes, and fucked you gently (or rough) like he usually did. However, a newfound wish piqued his interest, and even though you're in a secluded area, he wishes everyone would know what pretty girl he got.

Without further thinking and no complaints made, he places you down on the grass. The sensation of the blades tickling your skin is, in a way, bothersome, but your brain is easily turned into mush every time Leon dares to touch you.

Leon, however, wouldn’t allow you to feel any discomfort. His sun-kissed skin would be exposed in swift motion as he takes off his wet shirt. Those antagonizing seconds of admiring him unbuttoning the fabric push you to press your thighs together, seeking any type of release or mere pleasure.

“Up,” And after those endless seconds of him taking off his shirt, his hand taps your hip, motioning you to lift the lower half of your body for him to lay his shirt there. Giving no second thoughts, you raise your rear, pathetically quick, and Leon notices. “So needy, have I been slacking off?”

And his tone gives him away. He is looking forward to letting nature be the witness of your lustful acts. The sun being your light and the grass your makeshift bed. His body embraces the position on top of you.

“Of course I have.” He cooes, bringing his face lower and lower before pressing his cheek against your inner thigh. His stubble resembles sandpaper with how it scratches your skin, but at this point, it brings more pleasure than annoyance. “Look at her, already crying for me.”

His breath tickles the middle area between your legs. The wet spot in your panties is obvious to Leon who wastes no time to bring up that fact. And you want to thank yourself for choosing a dress today because there is no way you could do anything besides laying on the grass and letting Leon treat you so nicely and tenderly.

“How could I?” He hums against the soaked patch of the fabric. “Been neglecting my pretty girl.” He presses a kiss on your clothed area, dragging down the anticipated pleasure you’re looking for.

“Mhm… please.” Your babbles gain a chuckle out of Leon’s lips. He is enjoying the whole setting, he wouldn’t have known he had a thing for outdoor sex but then again, he loves discovering new things with you.

Antagonistically, he lifts your dress until it reaches your abdomen and exposes your lower half.

And finally, his fingers hook around the sides of your panties, yanking down the fabric, allowing himself to admire the way he has made a mess of you already.

As always, he was ready for his favorite meal in the whole world.

Lying on his stomach, he props up on his elbows, his mouth dives into your pussy as his tongue laps at your clit. A moan escapes your lips as the sensation of being eaten out by Leon floods your mind and soul.

He feasts like a starved man, like he is eating his favorite dessert. He delves into your aching hole, his tongue tasting the sweet and well-known flavor of your juices. He brings your legs over his shoulders, propping you to raise your lower half and reach even deeper.

“Shit,” Your fingers tangle in his dirty blond hair, shoving his face into your cunt. His lips suck your clit, paying close attention to that part, drawing moans and whines out of you.

A plethora of names are being said as Leon continues being trapped between your thighs. He flicks his tongue while he feels how some of your slick drips to his stubble. And with the way your legs squeeze him even tighter, he can already guess you’re feeling so much pleasure from his tongue alone.

You arch your back, trying to bring him even closer to your core. The wet noises of his saliva and your slick mix with the outdoor ones. The soft rustling of the trees’ leaves and the birds chirping are a reminder of the scenario you both are in.

Whimpers leave your lips as Leon's tongue makes out with your cunt. Your fingers grip the shirt Leon placed as a makeshift blanket. Heat starts pooling in your belly as the antagonizing seconds of Leon eating you out bring you to the edge.

At last, your body jerks and comes undone in Leon’s grasp. He holds you in place, flattening his tongue to collect every drop of your slick. He could easily cum too just by the fact he was tasting your release.

“My sweet girl, always so perfect for me.” He finally disconnects from your pussy to crawl back to where your face is. He places some kisses on your neck which is glistening with a layer of sweat given how much pleasure you were previously feeling.

At last, his lips reach yours and he passionately kisses you. You could easily taste yourself in the kiss yet you don’t care at this very moment.

For a moment, he indulges in the tenderness of the kiss after bringing you to heaven with just his tongue alone. However, the easily noticeable restraint in his jeans was getting harder to control.

You feel him grind against you, seeking any type of friction to ease the aching feeling of his erection.

“Leon… I can’t….” Leon’s intentions are obvious as you feel his clothed dick humping your leg like a needy man yet, you are still tender from your ecstasy.

“You can…” He brings his face against the crook of your neck once again, placing wet kisses around your skin. “Just one more baby.”

He pleads, he begs, he needs to feel you wrapped around him. Those thoughts about leaving his mark, leaving his seed in you are still pretty much present. So at last, you nod. That’s when you can feel a smile forming on his lips which continue being pressed against your neck.

“Thank you, thank you.” Acting like he hasn’t touched for ages, you hear the rustle of fabric and his belt buckle falling to the ground. You see how his dick springs out of his boxers when he pulls them down, already leaking precum just from eating you out.

In less than a second, you feel him collecting your previous release, sliding his cock through your folds with such ease that it had you gripping air.

“Fuck…” He murmurs as he pushes himself painfully slowly, taking his time to feel how your walls tighten around his length. Pinned underneath him, you feel overwhelmed by the sensation of having his body so close to you.

“My pretty wife…” He whispers as he is finally all the way in. “Look at you, so pretty full of me.” He adds while one of his hands caresses your hair.

He starts gently rocking against your body, the pace is slow and comforting as if trying to remember the way your velvety walls clamp his dick, the stretch being something you’re accustomed to.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He says as he thrusts inside of you, this time a little more urgently. The hand that was previously running through your hair wraps around your waist and lifts it slightly.

“Mhm…yes.” You nod as your eyes lock with his, witnessing a newfound desire you haven’t seen before. Maybe it was the fact that both of you are outdoors, you don’t know.

The sounds of his skin slapping against yours mix with your heavy breaths. The perfect music for the perfect scenario. As soon as Leon hits that sweet spot of yours, you whimper his name like a mantra.

And then again, the thought of a family floods his mind. The mental image of your belly stretching out, making space for the baby is everything he longs for. And not only that, but he craves to take care of you, his pretty wife. You wouldn’t need to lift a finger for the nine months of pregnancy.

“Wanna fill you up.” He finally confesses in a moan. He isn’t a stranger to dirty talk, you know it well. The way his words come out like a promise and an already-made decision is proof of his not so hidden wish. “This farm is lonely with just the two of us…”

And as he presses his forehead against yours, you see in his eyes the devotion he has for you. The same man that promised you the world is now promising a life, a new life who is going to be the perfect combination of both you and him.

“What’chu mean?” You feign ignorance just for the sake of hearing those words coming out of his mouth again. And as you try to say some more teasing words, you can feel the way his thrusts get rougher as if trying to make a statement. The statement being that he wouldn’t stop until you get pregnant.

“You know what I mean…” He is huffing by now, letting out a grunt as he utters those words. “Wanna get you nice and full.”

Ultimately, your dreams are the same as his. So you allow him to transform this dream of his into his—your—reality now.

“Yeah?” You say through your teeth, trying not to whimper from the fact that his cock is reaching so deep into you.

“Yeah.” He groans, his sticky forehead never leaving yours as he looks into your eyes and your dazed-out expression. “You’re gonna look so goddamn beautiful as a momma.”

Out of desperation to fuck you even deeper, he brings your legs to his shoulders, just like he previously did when he was eating you out. But this time, it is an attempt to let his dick mark your womb.

It is his mission to one day see a positive test. It’s his mission to show his devotion to his princess and the now-future mother of his children. He’d never stop looking at the telltale of his seed making its home in your body.

He wouldn’t let you do anything besides resting and growing your little miracle. He’d cook, he’d clean, he’d feed you if you ask him to.

“Keep squeezing me like that, I’m gonna—fuck—cum…” He effortlessly bends your knees even more, bringing them closer to your chest. “Gonna fill you up until I’m so damn empty.”

He takes advantage of the vulnerable position you’re in to bring a hand to your clit. Rubbing it, he waits for the imminent climax of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess.” He presses his body on top of you, the position allowing him to let out an almost growl against your ear. The sense of purpose that Leon is showing prompts you to finally reach your climax. With a broken voice and your fingernails leaving crescent moons on his back, you coat his dick with your release. A gooey ring forms at the base of his cock every time he pulls in and out of you.

His actions don’t stop there, though. He was so close to spilling right inside you and making his dreams come true. He brings the hand that was previously teasing your clit to your face, brushing away some of your hair that has stuck to your forehead, he looks right into your eyes.

“Fucking love you so much.” He grunts, his deep sea eyes never leaving yours, as if trying to engrave this moment in his mind. To forever remember the time when he finally achieved his dream. “You’ll be the prettiest momma ever.”

Although his thrusts are too much for you to handle and the overstimulation turns into a slight discomfort, the way his hand is gently caressing your cheek—a juxtaposition of his determined attempt of marking you— makes you melt on the spot.

And especially since the cold feeling of his wedding ring reminds you of the amazing man you married.

“I'm cumming.” He warns you as his thrusts get sloppy and without rhythm. He's seeing stars at this moment, every time he plunges his dick into you he reaches the sky. And at last, with the way his breath gets laboured and heavy, it announces his high coming.

The head of his dick spurts rope after rope of cum into you, the angle you are in makes it easier for it not to drip out of you. He wouldn’t allow a drop of his seed to go to waste.

You feel the warm and thick liquid filling your insides, proof of Leon’s actions and therefore fulfilled wish. For a moment, you stay there letting his weight crush you and your bent legs.

After a while, he slowly slips out of you, carefully placing your legs on the ground. You feel the grass blades tickling your calves where Leon’s shirt doesn’t reach.

Leon rests his arm next to your head, admiring the dazed-out expression you have after letting him fill you.

“Hey…” He murmurs before letting out a soft chuckle.

“Hi you.” You respond with a smile amidst the exhaustion that is running through your veins. “We really just did that.”

“Yeah…” In his eyes, you can observe how much love he has for you and how eager he is to know if this one dream will be a reality.

With his free hand, he grabs yours and places soft pecks on your knuckles.

“Are you okay?” He once again speaks, now making sure you are alright.

“More than okay.”

He gives your knuckles one last kiss before he lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head while doing so.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You ask.

“Nothing…” He shakes his head once again. “It's just that… I may have some dad jokes already prepared.”

“Shut up, Leon.”

You couldn’t wait to know if your dreams were achieved by this act. You couldn’t wait to see if your life could get even better than this. And especially, you couldn’t wait to experience being a family.

💬 shadesoflsk: Comments, reblogs and likes are very much appreciated.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil

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enwoso · 23 days

Note

Speaking of forhead kisses... maybe something for lia wälti? Maybe her and r are not yet dating or havn't been dating for long and lia accidently finds out that she is readers phone background

SURPRISE — lia wälti

another day, another lil blurb. found this right deep in the drafts half written. i need to stop starting to write something and then not finishing it until weeks months later.

masterlist

you and lia were the new couple on the block, you’d only just started dating a few months ago. so everything was still pretty new, finding out new habits the other had. to say the least there had been a lot of firsts that had happened in your relationship on the last coming weeks.

you were sat together on the team coach on the way to an away fixture. you and lia talking amongst yourselves as you leant your head on her shoulder. you hands interlocked as a series played through a headphone you both had in each ear.

“oh! i forgot i was meant to show you this, this morning” you burst up scrambling around in your seat for you phone remembering that you had seen a certain fan edit on instagram that you had saved and wanted to show your girlfriend.

lia slightly taken back by your sudden movements but let you carry on as she sat watching you with a timid smile on her face, making sure to press pause on the series knowing you would just whine and ask her to rewind it so you could watch the minutes you’d missed.

finally found you phone, you asked lia to hold it while you got yourself back into a comfy position in the seat. but as lia was holding it the screen flashes on, lia glancing at it but her eyes catch something else.

your lock screen. it was of the two of you the night she had asked you to be her girlfriend. a photo so simple as her kissing your cheek. something lia hadn’t seen yet, because you hadn’t told her in fear she may think you were moving too fast.

lia felt her heart get bigger as the love for you seemed to grow more and more each day. a loving smile appearing on the swiss’ face as you asked your girlfriend for your phone back although lia too wrapped in her own thoughts never heard you.

“lia? baby? can i have my-“ you paused turning your head back to lia, pausing for a second realising what the brunette was looking at.

“i- um.. you weren’t supposed-“ you rattled off quickly, taking your phone out of your girlfriends hands. your eyes going straight to look at your lap, not knowing what to say, or even how she would react. would she find it cringe?

“no, babe. it’s cute i love it” lia gushed as you slowly lifted your eyes back up to meet your girlfriend. your mood perking back up which had fell flat momentarily.

you blushed as you felt the heat on your cheeks heating up, but lia’s smile just got bigger as she leaned forward to pepper kisses all across your face as light giggled left your lips.

“and i love you”

#lia walti x reader #lia walti #lia wälti #woso community #woso x reader #woso #woso imagine #woso blurbs #awfc #arsenal women #arsenal wfc #arsenal #enwoso

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coconutdays · 2 months

Text

study week!

s. your boyfriend deserves some special treatment after working so hard and you think you know the best way to treat him, you think

w.c. 4.9k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!

a/n: this was halfway written in my drafts and I know I haven't posted him in a while, so I thought id treat my girlies for what they fell for me for in the first place and finish it

it's midterms week and as difficult as it's been for your dear boyfriend suguru, you can't stop yourself from being a bit of an obstacle for him yourself.

he's waiting for you outside of your french studies lecture in the morning when you can see his slightly tired eyes rake across the cleavage bared by your low-cut blouse. then to the short mini-skirt and pantyhose lining your legs. and your lips, you're wearing his favorite lipgloss, the one that always has him pushing you onto your knees and sucking him dry.

"hey baby." he smiles a little, taking the almost too large water bottle from your hands and reaching down to hold one of your hands while you walked, "you look beautiful."

"hi," you snuggle into his arm, hoping he didn't see the slight quirk of your lips at his obvious stare just a few seconds ago, "did you study as much as you wanted this morning?"

suguru nods, thumb caressing your hand as he sighs, "yes, although I do wish I could've finished earlier and had more time to get ahead on that project."

that project. the one that had been taking up most of the time for the past two weeks, more so this one right before his exam and presentation came up for his Japanese architecture class.

it had been only last semester the two of you started dating after the close to masterful planning of satoru gojo that led to your hookup with the charming brunette on halloween night. you had no other classes together when the spring semester came around and you both obviously missed it at times like these, when the added ninety minutes of just getting to even be together in lecture and spare time of studying the class material together could've more easily satiated the want of each other's presence

this semester he had Japanese architecture and although the class was fairly easy, he had to work on a hefty group presentation that took up over thirty percent of his grade, and he being the ever meticulous student, was doing everything in his power to make sure he would get his A+, which meant being taken prisoner by his assigned group in the library to piece together the presentation most days. and when he wasn't, he was studying for his other classes and making the most of any interaction he could with you, be it by texting, FaceTime, or getting a quick dessert at the cafe near the school campus with you.

but not sex.

"'m sorry. that sucks," you pout for him, peering up at him through your eyelashes purposefully, "wish I could make it a solo project, so you wouldn't have to rely on other people for your grade."

suguru spares you a small glance before tiredly looking you and shining his warm smile down at you, "well it's already too late for the professor to change his mind, so I'll bear it through."

suguru tears his gaze away from you so he can guide the both of you across the street to the previously mentioned cafe. when you make it across the street and continue walking to the ever growing close cafe, your boyfriend strikes another topic.

"how was class though? did you get the material?"

you nod your head eagerly and upon realizing he can't see you do it because of his guiding, you voice, "yea! it was relatively easy, shouldn't take me more than an hour or two to brush up on what I need for the test."

"good." he hums, opening the door for you to the cafe, never letting go of your hand, "and your other classes?"

and there came the reason as to why you felt so free to mess around with him in the first place. you barely even had midterms, luckily enough this time around. you only had your French midterm and the studying barely even counted as something to be stressed about when it was just like overlooking the normal homework being assigned in the class. and your other classes...well it was pure luck that your professors didn't care to give one and if they did, they instead spread them around to conveniently happen before and after midterms like any other normal test. god knows you're happy they didn't pile up into one week like they did for your boyfriend, his poor poor soul. a poor soul so restricted by his other responsibilities during this short time span that you just wanted to tease him for all he's got.

"I already started my study review for my international business relations class yesterday, so I'll be fine when the test comes around next month." you beam proudly, grateful that the university gods had been kind to you and to yourself for staying on track to your planner.

"good girl" suguru's eyes crease when he gets in line to order with you and brings your hand to his mouth to kiss it. the action is mindless, just like his response, it was natural for him to praise you. and considering his avoidance of your sex life ever since those cruel cruel cruel classmates of his started dragging him into the study rooms of the library as of last week, it was purely innocent, with no intention of riling you up.

but it did.

and you can't help but think of the last time you and suguru had sex, the exact morning of the day he had received the news from his professor that he would have to group up with other people for a good grade.

he had eaten you out for close to an hour because he felt like it. it was slow and sensual the entire time, he never listened to your pleas to go faster, telling you to take it like he knows his good girl would, and although it wasn't the cruel speed you begged for most of the time, it still brought you over the edge in a many pleasing and toe curling way.

the thought had you blushing at the fact the person you held those memories with was right next you, being domestic, and leading you to an empty booth while he carried your desserts in a bag.

craving the touch of your boyfriend, you refuse to sit across from him, and squeeze yourself next to him in the booth, the action makes him caress your thigh warmly before he sets out napkins and puts each of your preferred sweets on their respective places.

you're halfway through your dessert when you push yourself onto suguru and pout, "I miss you sugu."

he places a firm yet soft hand on top of your head to caress it, "I miss you too. I'll be all yours tomorrow."

"what?" he wasn't supposed to be free until three days time

"my group decided they wanted to turn in the project today to get it over with, which I'm up for by all means. and my calculus professor felt merciful last night. he gave passes for the midterms to the students with no late assignments and As."

you try your best to hide the devious excitement in your eyes and instead smile endearingly, "that's so good! we can go eat at that viet restaurant I dmed you."

suguru takes your non pastry sticky hand and brings it onto his lap as he gazes into your eyes, "I'd rather cook for you tomorrow."

your curiosity overtakes your predatory instinct and you bat your lashes at him when you ask, "what are you thinking of making?"

"risotto,"he hums, before he leans forward a bit and kisses the corner of your mouth. when he pulls back he smirks a little at the flustered look on your face.

"you had some strawberry filling." he points out before placing another kiss at the top of your head, rubbing a tentative hand at the back of your head in doing so, "let's finish the pastries so I can buy you a matcha latte before my class."

and just like that, he had made your resolve weaken, yet again, like always, your intent on seducing him forgotten for the meantime due to his proficiency at making your mind a puddle.

you find yourself in the library, hours later in the afternoon, studying with your friend at the same time suguru is meeting with his group.

and...soooooo conveniently sitting at a desk right in front of the glass door of one of the library's large group session cubicles, that just so happens to be hosting your boyfriend and his classmates.

your luck worked out perfectly and you thanked whatever mightier being there was when you saw suguru seated at the far end of the table with no one in front of him, allowing him the perfect view of you from across those few feet and glass door.

you see his eyes light up as he tries to listen to whatever one of his groupmates is saying while sharing a loving look with you.

perfect.

suguru

are you going to study pretty?

by the time you see the message from him, he has his arms folded over each other as he speaks to the other people in the room. god you wish you could hear him speaking right now. he was 100% giving some sort of smart nerd dialect input and you did everything in your power not to remember the time he tutored you in a class he had already taken last semester, using that same voice.

that time,

you had asked for a prize if you got all his questions correct

and he had been more than happy to give when you did

the specifics of which you didn't let yourself fret on more when you typed away to answer him

y/n

mhm I need to practice a speech for french.

and you left your phone on the desk with the screen facing down as you continued to your studies, conniving your next plan of action as you typed away at your computer.

about thirty minutes had passed when suguru was finally allowed a moment of peace, a moment of tranquility from having to explain a million times why comic sans was not the most ideal font to use.

and he was going to reach for his phone, to see what you had answered–he felt the buzz in his pocket–but couldn't look due to his previous debate with his classmates, when he spotted a quite inviting sight.

where you had been sitting basically face to face with suguru, with your friend next you, now you had your back to him as you practiced your speech in front of your friend.

it wasn't really useful, she didn't understand, it was more so to have someone to make eye contact with.

well more so,

an excuse to stand up and bend over a little every once a while so your skirt rode up just the right amount.

you bent over when you hand your phone to your friend to time you, you bent over to get a quick look at your computer, your speech written on it. you bent over to type something quick, a meaningless note, but a meaningful excuse for you.

you're not flashing him outright, of course, there was still a possibility of any one of his group mates accidentally getting a glance of whatever you rescinded to your boyfriend in these minutes; but you are teasing him. he loves these skirts on you. he's especially a bigger fan of the pantyhose, considering this was the only surviving pair you could find. so you know that he's letting his memory and imagination undress the sight before him as well as entice him.

you're glad you didn't unlock your phone when you gave it to your friend to time you, choosing to slide up for the clock on the lock screen, when after an hour of perfecting the speech you didn't need until two weeks time, she says, "geto texted you by the way, a couple minutes ago."

you take your phone from her as you go to sit down, facing suguru again for the first time in an hour, and you don't know if he's resorted to playing your mind games too, but the sight is knee buckling.

he's got his hair in that half up, half down combo that never fails to make you ravenous. and he's biting his cheek as he listens yet again to whoever and looks down at his computer screen every once in a while.

why did he always look so unaffected by everything, god.

you force yourself to look at the messages he sent you earlier

suguru

try your speech on me when you get the chance, okay?

how long are you going to be here? do you want me to take you home after we finish the project?

y/n

I'll make it my first priority! and I'm about to leave :/ I still have to do a quiz at home with my camera on in about two hours, wanna get it done before the hour mark.

you get up seconds after sending the text to suguru to put your belongings away. the task was easy considering you didn’t take much out of your bag. and when you started to close it, you felt a firm and soft hand tugging you towards them.

suguru was in front of you now, sitting at the edge of your desk, tugging you close to him so you stood between his legs, which were unavoidably manspreading for you.

“five at my place tomorrow?” he’s softly quirking an eyebrow at you in question, holding both of your hands close to him

“I’ll be there,” you nod

he smiles at you in response, then juts his chin a little in the direction of your friend behind you–mindlessly scrolling through her phone as she waits for your conversation with your boyfriend to end–and asks, “are you getting a ride? I don’t like the idea of you walking by yourself, especially when it’s so close to sundown.”

you have to resist the way his protectiveness of you makes your skin crawl and want to jump onto him and force yourself to nod, “yea. she’s dropping me off after this. i need to give her one of the books we read for lit last semester anyways, she needs it for a class.”

“alright then.” suguru pulls both of your hands to his lips and gives a kiss to each one before getting up. he stands tall before you like he always does. “text me when you get home.”

“I will,” you say as he raises his hands to hold both sides of your face to pull you into a kiss. he keeps it calm and fluttering, so the most you can manage to retrieve out of him is a slight sharp inhale when your tongue softly grazes his lower lip.

he still has his hands on your face when he places a small kiss at the top of your forehead and mutters, “i love you.”

“I love you too.” you say back, basking in his touch, knowing it’ll be close to a full day before you can see him like this again.

y/n

Im homeeeeeeee!

finished the quiz too, wasn’t as hard as i thought it would be

suguru

nice job baby

have you eaten yet?

y/n

im making a fruit salad :p have a sweet tooth right now

are you done with the project???

suguru

thankfully, yes. It was getting very difficult to see everyone use comic sans by default today. all i have to do is study for the test now, i can do that on my own without worrying about them.

ill make a peach cobbler for you tomorrow, for your sweet tooth

y/n

aw for lil ol me??

suguru

yes for lil ol you miss coy

ill text you in a bit, im going home

your conversation continued when suguru got home, minimally if any, knowing youd talk on the phone before one of you headed to bed later that night. he did have to study after and so did you. which was why you saved your seductive attempts for until then.

“I liked your outfit today baby. It was cute,” you could hear your boyfriend repeatedly tossing a small stress ball up into his ceiling faintly. he was in bed already just as you were.

the comment made your ears perk up, “you did?”

“yeah, i didn’t know there was still a pair of pantyhose left.”

“I didn’t either,” you sheepishly admitted, “i found it in the back of my drawer on saturday and thought id wear it.”

“wear them tomorrow, “ suguru added casually

“okay, ill–”

“don’t wear panties either.”

your eyes widened a little, “but your bike–”

“what about my bike?”

he was picking you up tomorrow on his bike, like he always did. and you had to sit on his bike, on that leather seat with the incoming wind, your skirt, the pantyhose, no underwear…

“I thought we were having dinner.”

“we are, im making the risotto and peach cobbler for us,” he still sounds like he’s discussing any casual dinner arrangement, “don’t wear panties under the pantyhose.”

“why are you making those demands anyway,” you try to poke at him, as if you didn’t want to do that for him, to see if you could rile him up like you still wanted to these last two weeks, “you haven’t been horny for two weeks.”

“did i tell you i wasn’t?”

the authoritative question had you rubbing your thighs against each other, “no…but you weren’t acting that way either.”

“like you?”

even on the phone it was hard to escape him, and he made it oh so delicious, even if it did always intimidate you.

“Is it so wrong to want you,” the pout in your voice clear

“no,” suguru comforts, “not at all.”

then, just as he knows he has you on an intense precipice in the conversation, he begins to end the call.

“sleep well pretty,” you can hear the love for you he has through it, as if he wasn’t just backing you into a corner seconds ago, “we’ve had a long day, and i need to get up a bit earlier than usual to get some groceries before i head to the gym.”

“sleep well too,” you huff and you can hear suguru’s laugh

“I love you beautiful."

“I love you too.”

suguru acts like a saint when he picks you up, like he's completely unaware to the fact that you're wearing pantyhose with no panties under your skirt, even though he asked for it.

"hey beautiful," he smiles when he leans down to peck your lips, "you ready to go?"

"yeah," you breathe, genuinely excited to spend time with your boyfriend for the first time in two weeks, uninterrupted

you arrived to your boyfriend's apartment with the most drenched pantyhose known to man. and you were too scared to see if any of your slick left a trail on his motorcycle. and although there was a certain buildup...down there...this had to be considered some sort of psychological torture.

because suguru had not made a sexual move on you the entire dinner, even through dessert.

nothing.

so here you were, stuck making casual conversation with your boyfriend, pussy basically exposed, and paranoid about his next move.

"satoru should not be eating that many macaroons a day. I know he loves them, but that's got to be some sort of crime." you discuss while taking a sip of your wine, "there has to be some economic surplus and deficit issue going on there."

"babe, you've had macaroon mukkbangs with him in front of me."

you pucker your lips in response to your boyfriend's unwavering ability to bring the facts right to your face.

"okay, but he does it way more often than me. consider that. I have to train for a whole month to do that. satoru does it back to back."

"there is that," suguru agrees, eyes flickering to the plate that had just been served with a slice of peach cobbler minutes ago, "and I take it you liked the peach cobbler."

"yes!" you nod eagerly, planting an excited fist on the dining table, "I love that my boyfriend is such a good chef."

"and I love that my girlfriend eats well," suguru responds warmly as he gets up and picks up both of your plates, placing them in the dishwasher before saying, "I'm glad you liked it though. I love watching you enjoy what I make."

suguru then takes your hand, while you're seated, and places a fleeting kiss on the back of it.

"let's go to the bedroom."

god, he just says that and you're ruining the pantyhose even more now.

"okay," you nod, getting up and letting him lead the way to his room.

he doesn't say much during the quick few steps until he opens the door and shuts it behind him.

"you're not wearing panties, right, sweet girl?"

you turn around to look at him, shaking your head earnestly, "no sir."

he walks up to you and takes your head in his palm affectionally, brushing a careful thumb across your cheek while he looks at you lovingly, "good."

"get on your knees then baby."

immediately you're sinking onto the ground and suguru is unbuckling his belt for you, already pulling out his rock hard cock.

on instinct, you open your mouth and suguru takes the invitation without hesitation, popping the tip of his dick against the inside of your cheek again and again.

"those pantyhose must be ruined beyond repair right now, aren't they?"

"mhm" you nod as best you can considering what he's using your mouth for.

"god, I can't wait to rip a hole in them." he hisses while he starts to slide his shaft up and down in your mouth.

its your queue to start sucking him off like you know how to. you hollow your cheeks and let all the spit build up in your mouth, even if it does start to run down your mouth and onto your chest and the floor. every time he nearly pulls out, you swirl your tongue around the underside of his swollen head, and you love the way his hips jut up just a bit at the action.

suguru's let you take the reigns now, instead placing a loving hand on the side of your head and making sure your hair doesn't get in your face.

"missed this pretty face getting messy for my cock." he breathes, grip growing by just a smidge on your hair, "missed it so much. couldn't even fuck your face to get my stress out baby."

he sees the excitement simmer in your eyes and suguru leans over a bit, "what do you say sweet girl, want me to fuck your little throat?"

you nod feverishly, suckling on his tip to show enthusiasm.

suguru gives you a small smile in return while he pinches your cheek affectionately.

"good girl."

he starts to move your head up and down his length at a leisurely place, something not too drastic, where you can feel and taste him coherently

until he suddenly speeds up the pace unforgivingly

"there, there, "he groans almost, staring at your face, "fuck, you're such a filthy girl. what'd I do to get such a pretty slut like you?"

the vulgar praise makes you moan, and the vibrations from your throat make him react the same way

"if I weren't saving my cum for my pussy right now baby, I'd fill your mouth again and again until you're practically spilling." he utters, still jack hammering into your mouth and you're doing everything you can to not let yourself gag,

"you like helping me destress beautiful?" he says desperately, cheeks growing a tinge red as he locks eyes with you

suguru's hips give a warning stutter when you nod, and he suddenly pulls out, and brings you up by an arm, turning you around so he can yank your skirt down.

"fuck." is all that leaves his lips darkly before he helps you take your shirt off and pushes you towards the bed.

"all fours baby, near the edge, wanna get a good fucking view of that pussy."

"o-okay," you say, already ruined by his previous indulgence and in anticipation of what was to come.

you get on all fours immediately and without a moment's waste, suguru's already running a greedy hand up your soaked folds, practically stuck to the pantyhose

"fuck, you're going to kill me. thought I was gonna go insane yesterday."

slap!

suguru lands a painful strike on your pussy

"it's not nice to tease your boyfriend when he's working so hard for you sweetheart. almost lost my mind trying not to think about all the things I wanted to do to you on that library table."

then there's a loud tear, and suguru runs his tongue flat against your exposed folds without hesitation

he starts to literally makeout with your pussy, treating it the way he wants. as if your lips down there could respond to his own. it's all for his own pleasure, none of yours, and you don't mind, turned on way more by the fact that he's using your body in such a depraved way.

and so, because you figure tonight is all about him taking out his stress on you, suguru suddenly stops, and you can feel him sit down on the bed, dragging you to stand in front of him.

"sit on my dick baby," he says, turning you around to face your back towards him, hands gripping your waist.

"wait!" you start to whine for the first time tonight, "I can't do this one, it's too hard for me."

just as suguru was needy, you were needy too.

you wanted the easy relief of him pounding you from behind, with you on all fours. when you rode him him like this, bouncing up and down, it was such a trek. he was so big, even sitting on it was a great feat. and he poked your cervix so painfully every time you went back down like this.

"yeah you can," suguru praises, reaching a hand down to swipe his tip against your folds messily, using the other on your waist to bring you down a little, "you always end up loving how I fill you up when we do it like this sweet girl."

upset, but still eager to have him inside of you, you start to sink down onto him with a pout, unable to stop your mouth from dropping open at the delicious stretch he always gives you

"so fucking big." you whine when he's bottomed out and you feel like you can't breathe from how full he makes you feel

and maybe he was right, because when you pick your ass back up, the feeling of his dick passing through and massaging your pussy from the inside has you keening for more and you could care less about your cervix.

so now you're bouncing against him sporadically, having missed the feeling of him inside you for so long

"missed your dick so much sugu!" you whine, stabilizing your arms on his thighs, ignoring the burning in your legs

"oh my fucking god," he groans, landing a stinging spank on your ass, "I missed this wet little pussy so much too princess. fuck. keep going, dirty fucking girl. gonna buy a butt plug for you so you can wear it with this same little get up. look so fucking cute with a little bunny tail sticking out with this-fuck."

"mhm mhm."

"gonna be my bunny? since you're always looking for my dick? god, if I could keep you in bed all day just for me to fuck you I'd keep that pussy full to the brim."

"sug-sugu!"

"I know baby, I know," he groans, both hands now gripping your ass and pushing you back down again and again, "cum for me, I'll cum with you."

you feel your leg start to kick a little as a reaction to what's about to happen and suguru notices the small paralyzation overtaking your body as a result to the nearing bliss. so he sits up straight and hugs you tight, pummeling you from underneath

"ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod sugu sugu, im cumming im cumming!"

"cum for me baby," suguru says through each quick stroke, "oh my god I'm gonna fuck my load into this slutty fucking pussy. greedy fucking girl's milking it out of me."

and you feel suguru's cock spill inside of you in hard thrusts, giving you what you feel is one of the biggest loads ever, considering this is the first time the both of you have gone without sex with each other for more than two days.

suguru's still inside you when he pulls you onto the bed with him and reaches a hand down to massage your boob

"babe, you did cum a lot." you comment, feeling his load pool inside of you

"good," he breathes, "it'll look hot coming out of you with the pantyhose"

"...are you going to take a picture for your album"

"maybe"

#suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jjk suguru #suguru geto smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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uranometrias · 4 months

Text

✮ꜜ : ❛ now i see daylight : spencer reid x fem! reader

pairing: spencer reid x fem! reader

summary: three weeks have gone by since your last encounter with reid. you'd both been doing an exceptional job of pretending that the other didn't exist. you felt like it was only fair. he didn't have the right to talk to you any type of way, and you supposed in his mind, you didn't have the right to behave so jealously. three weeks of no ground being made, that is, of course, until a conversation with rossi helps to screw your head on straight

content warnings: love confessions. reader definitely has anxiety and a fear of romance/relationships, BUT she fights her fear! i also think it's fair to say that she views telling spencer about her feelings as facing her fear, regardless of his response! this is part two to 'guilt is a motherfucker'.... i'm so sorry it's taken forever, but i've actually preparing to enlist in the army && haven't had a lot of down time. i've got 10 drafts to prove it, but i tried my best to make this longer than part one, and i hope that you guys enjoy it.

Grow up.

Those words had haunted you for about three weeks. It'd been that long since the day you and Spencer had sort of... drifted apart. You refused to blame yourself, despite knowing full well this whole ordeal was majorly your fault. Okay, all of the blame very well rested on your shoulders, but you were stubborn. You'd been that way forever.

Maybe you were the childish, scared, and jealous little girl he'd accused you of being. That wasn't your job to figure out, because he had no business speaking to you that way. Who did he think he was? You could hit him right in his stupid little face. That last thought of violence seems to follow you.

Especially as you sat as your desk, leg bouncing furiously underneath as you counted the seconds until he was away from the kitchenette. Your cup of coffee was dwindling, and you still had a few more files to get through, before you'd give yourself room to slack off. You needed more caffeine, but the newfound thorn in your side was taking up space, using up all the sugar as he made his third cup of the day.

A more mature person might have questioned why you didn't just go up there anyway. He didn't own the kitchenette, and it wasn't like you had to say anything at all. It was meant to be cut-and-dry, you were both mature adults, you could interact as such. Except neither of you were quite as mature as you affronted. You could just picture the screwed up expression he'd offer you if you chose to approach.

You were certain your face was already twisted up, showing off your own annoyance, and he wasn't even near you.

You'd been berated by Derek, Emily, and Penelope over your petty streak, all three parties really driving in the point that you were behaving like a toddler throwing a tantrum. They had a point, but you also refused to accept any such criticism about your behavior. Partly, because you hated correction, and you didn't want to think about the possibility that all of your friends were on his side.

But you think most of your refusal to accept your part from any of them had a lot to do with the fact that they weren't the ones who'd been so callously humiliated, and they weren't the ones with feelings for someone who obviously knew, and was perfectly content flaunting such knowledge right in your face.

God, you could punt him like a football.

You needed to work on your insult creativity, these were starting to get repetitive. You shake all thoughts of assault out of your mind as Dave begins to approach your desk. Rossi wasn't stupid, he like everyone else had noticed the significant decline in attention passed between you, and Reid. But unlike the rowdier members of the team, he and JJ had elected to go the route of silent but deadly.

They'd cast the both of you disapproving looks when in rare form you'd allowed your spat to affect your job. Their clear disappointment in you exceptionally loud. Times like those were sparce, you really only ever objected obedience when Hotch insisted on partnering the both of you up. Which had luckily become much more rare in the last few weeks.

"Still pouting, angioletto?" he asks, and his ability to read right through you seems to make your pout deepen. "It's been three weeks, don't you think it's time to talk about it or move on?" he questions, and there's no judgement there. It's what you like the most about Rossi, he seemed to have fallen into the role of paternal figure incredibly well. He gave you the tough love that you often needed.

But he never disrespected your boundaries, he never went too far. He'd always say just enough to nudge you in the right direction.

"Maybe." you agree, and it's true. You know it's time to put this situation behind you in one way or another, but you refused to cave first. You didn't want to give Spencer the satisfaction of it, and once again you're made aware of just how petty you really were. "But I don't want to." you voice this thought to Dave, who offers an unamused expression. You narrow your eyes in his direction.

"He's the one that started it..." you exclaim your side for the umpteenth time. Rossi's expression doesn't morph, but there is a bit of disappointment swimming in his eyes. It makes you avert your gaze quickly, you could feel the first pinpricks of guilt slicing at you. "It's true." you insist. Rossi waves a tired hand at you, ushering you to proceed, and you find yourself grateful for the chance to vent.

Everyone else knew too much about the behind the scenes to let you get a word in edgewise. Rossi was basically a clean slate. "If he knew all along, what he thinks he knows..." you stop long enough to look towards the kitchenette. He's still there, which is a relief, you'd be pissed if somehow he managed to overhear this. "Then why would he come over here and flaunt it. Was he trying to rub it in?" you demand.

Silly you for thinking that Rossi would be any less on your ass than the rest of the team. He was David Rossi after all, one of the founders of the BAU, a smart man that could read you like a picture book. "You finished?" he asks, and your mouth parts. You weren't finished, but you don't tell him that, he looked like he was ready to lecture. You offer a curt nod, and he hums under his breath.

"What exactly were you expecting from him, Y/N?" he asks, and you blanche. You weren't expecting anything, you'd never expected anything from Spencer. "I mean just stick with me here... put yourself in his shoes for one second." he prompts, and you huff. Those were big shoes, probably uncomfortable. Still, you play along as you wait for Rossi to proceed. "Would you wait around for two years for someone to finally realize that they want to be with you?" he asks.

You hope that it's rhetorical, because the answer for you was probably a lot different than the one he was expecting. You also feel the urge to correct him, you didn't take two years to figure out you liked him, you'd known since your first day. Your issue was verbalizing it, because you cared about your bond. Spencer was nice, he was the sweetest person you'd ever met. You liked seeing him get excited about the things no one else seemed to care about. He was different.

He was your friend, and you had always admired him.

"I wasn't making him wait..." you voice the correction. "And I didn't need time to realize anything..." you trail off, and realization seems to set in for Rossi. He sighs deeply, head shaking as you continue on your tangent. "I liked him back when all the girls in the unit still looked at him like he was some freak, and I'm not saying it entitles me to anything... I'm the dummy for being a chicken, but he didn't have to be so mean." and you're certain that's the root of it all.

Your feelings were hurt.

"Ah, well haven't you heard? Boys are quite stupid." Rossi offers, and you think he only said it to get you to laugh. It works, because you do chuckle, and it makes Dave's shoulders relax just slightly. "Talk to him, Y/N." he presses, and you find yourself looking across the bullpen. "It's the right thing to do." and you know he's right. "And who knows, it might even wind up being for the best." he offers, and you blanch. You nod your head, and Rossi beams proudly.

"You're right." you agree audibly, and you're fidgeting in your chair.

"You are coming this Friday aren't you?" Rossi pries, and you've gone nonverbal, head nodding once more as he mimics your action. "See if you guys can't get this squared away before then, won't you?" he asks, and he's leaving you with a gentle pat on the shoulder. You stare after Rossi with a mixture of disdain and appreciation. Leave it to the old man to get you off your ass. Your eyes are drawn to Spencer as he draws closer, you know he's not coming to you.

It was a byproduct of your desk location, but it wouldn't hurt to use it to your advantage. When he's within earshot, you take the first step. "Spence?" you try, and you expect him to ignore you, to keep walking like the sassy bastard that he is, but he shocks you. He seems to mirror your feelings with his own surprised expression. "Can we talk?" you try, and it's the cliche thing... but you don't have it in you to be poetic. He stops abruptly, head nodding stiffly as he does so.

You feel like you need to stand up, having him stand over you feels too much like you're being cornered or something of the sort. He takes a small step back when you do so though, and the tension seems to only grow tenfold. You mask your disappointment in his retreat easily, instead standing up a bit straighter, sticking your chin out as you prepare to bite the bullet and be the bigger woman. It was utterly humiliating having to bring yourself back to Earth like this.

"Sure." he finally verbally answers your question, you take that as a cue to get on with it. Your patience for back and forth seemed almost as thin as his.

"Maybe it's three weeks too late..." you begin, and his eyebrows furrow. "And I know we've got this new rhythm of pretending we don't exist to each other," and his face betrays how wrong he finds that statement. His face pinches up like he's smelled something bad, and he wants to remind you that the only reason you hadn't spoken was because you hadn't had the guts to own up to the fact that you had feelings for him, but he digresses. He wasn't here to pick a fight.

"But, I'm sorry...." you spit the apology out and it feels hollow. You know you have to do better, so you proceed before he can shoot you a disapproving glance. "I really am." you insist, and despite the fact that you had only just begun to feel guilty about the whole thing in the last few minutes, you meant it. "I never should've acted like that, and I never should have let this go on for so long." you express.

Across the bullpen, Rossi, Penelope, Derek, and Emily are huddled up watching the exchange, not so discreetly. You're none the wiser to your growing audience, but Spencer sees them clearly. Not that they were really aiming for subtlety. "It's not my business what you do outside of work or who you do it with." and your nose curls, mostly because you want it to be your business. You want to be valid in your aggravation, more than that you wanted to be his. How annoying.

Your leg starts to shake just barely, and you look like you'll crumble to the ground at any moment. Spencer notices all of these ticks, and stores them into the part of his brain that's full of things specific to you. "So I'm sorry that I was being a jerk." you offer, and Spencer's face doesn't show any signs of whether or not he believed you, so you continue. "I'm happy for you." you clear your throat, and feel embarrassment setting in.

"Thanks, Y/N." his head tips to the right as he appraises you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes you in. It's not a menacing sort of glance. He seemed to be waiting for something else, you weren't sure what more could be put into your apology, there was no way you were about to give an outright confession, that'd be humiliating. Instead, you avert your gaze, and it seems to be enough of an answer to whatever internal question he had. "That actually means a lot."

You don't smile, mostly because you're not sure what the actually means, he seems to notice the way your expression changes just slightly, and he's quick to correct himself.

"I just mean that your approval does mean a lot to me." he says, and you relax. You can't quite beam, you're still not up for it, but you offer a small smile, one that could count more as a grimace than anything else, but you weren't in the headspace to monitor your facial expressions. You were growing bothered all over again, and you had to do everything in your power to ensure that this time things didn't end with another three-week break between you and Spencer.

"Really?"

Spencer's nose curls now, he's an expressive guy. His facials said a lot more than his words could at times, and you note that this particular expressions reads somewhere between confused and surprised. Those were almost synonyms in the grand scheme of things, right? "Is that a real question?" Spencer asks, and despite the tension that hung over you at the start of the conversation, with this question you witness the way his guard drops. It was liberating in a way.

"I asked it didn't I?" you quip, but there's no real bite behind your words. Spencer seems to note this, lips pressing together firmly.

"You're important to me." he promises, and you hate that his first reaction is to validate you. Your anxiety-riddled mind would convince you that he secretly thought you were fishing for praise, which was the farthest thing from the truth. Still, you love Spencer, platonically and otherwise, and you're certain that's why you're mimicking his words back to him so quickly.

"You're important to me too."

He takes a second to stare at you, and you stare right back. You're careful not to show any signs of timidity or awkwardness, things were finally starting to look up. "I..." he begins, and you stay silent to allow him the time he needs to get whatever was on his chest off. "I'm sorry." he says, and you're surprised. It was the last thing you'd expected from this conversation, you're certain your surprise is evident plain as day on your face.

"Yeah?" you feel it's only fair to press him onward.

"Jealous little girl." he cringes as he repeats it, and you wince because it still hurts. "That was-" he shakes his head. "It was out of line. Plain and simple, I guess I was just a little frustrated, but that's not your fault. It wasn't fair of me to come at you in that way." he begins to ramble. "I wouldn't want you to feel... mocked or belittled by me." and you blink. Mostly because that was exactly how you had felt, but how did he know. It's then that you finally feel the beady-eyed stares.

You look over your shoulder just in time to witness the group dispersing, Penelope grasping a file in her hand as she scurried in the opposite direction. Derek picking up a file folder, and Emily focusing all her attention on the drink sloshing around her mug. You really hate profilers, this is the loudest thought in your head as you turn back to Spencer. "It doesn't matter if I felt justified then, or even if I feel justified about it now." and it makes you snort.

Classic Spence.

"D-Do you forgive me? Are we okay?" he asks, and his voice has grown a bit fainter. If you listen hard enough you hear the echoes of the Spencer you first met. Even with all his strides, and the confidence he gained, there was still that small part of him that felt like the nerdy boy that everyone overlooked. The one that talked too much, and was constantly silenced with looks or snide remarks whenever he rambled for too long about some niche subject.

You think this train of thought is what gets you to see Rossi's point of view. And who were you to get in the way of someone who clearly was ready for someone as amazing as Spencer. You didn't know much about the woman, aside from the fact that she was constantly making coffee, and staring at Spencer. You didn't know how long she'd worked at the bureau, you didn't even know her name, but you knew that she was brave. She knew what she wanted and got it.

Unlike you.

You suppose 'snooze you lose' is your burden to carry from this ordeal. At least you'd gotten your friend back though. And that was enough, it could be anyway. You nod your head at his question, offering a half smile. "We're okay, Spence." you promise, and he seems relieved. His smile is one of those rare ones, the gorgeous kind that Spencer reserved for special occasions. He then visibly and audibly lets out a quiet sound of relief, and it makes you relax.

"Hey, Spence, can I get your help?" JJ is calling, and your pulled from your bubble. The world is still spinning, there's still work to do, pressing matters that needed your attention. You felt a little lighter, offering another half smile as he offers you a sheepish glance. He's heading towards JJ as you sit back down at your desk. Your leg bounces despite the perceived 'win'. It only takes you a moment to wonder why, reality sets in, and you realize your shortcomings.

You'd failed the test twice.

Twice you'd had the chance to be the most open and honest with Spencer, only to let your nerves or fear of rejection get in the way. The jealousy is gone now though, instead replaced with a brief feeling of self-aggravation. You hear Dave's stern voice in your head. 'Talk to him, Y/N.' and you frown. Hadn't that been what you'd done? You'd talked to him, so why did you still feel so bummed.

Why don't you just talk to the guy? Look him in the eye and tell him straight up how you're feeling? Derek's question from three weeks prior slaps you like a ton of bricks. You supposed that was the end goal, wasn't it? The only way to relieve yourself of all this anxiety and all the big feelings you were having a hard time digesting. You're back to pouting, mostly because you've got no idea where to start.

You pick up one of your files, and flip it open, hoping to bury yourself in work. Every time your mind tried to stray to Spencer or your feelings, you'd switch files, until all twenty-five on your desk had a dent in them. Your hand was cramped, and you know that soon enough you'll need a cup of coffee. Emily approaches your desk, hands centered as she leans forward, eyes right on you.

"So how did it go?" she asks, and you cut your eyes at her. "Tension's all gone, so it must have gone well, right?" she's grinning down at you. "I told you if you told him the truth, you'd have nothing to worry about." Emily proceeds, and you're shaking your head back and forth.

"Emily... Emily, no!" you exclaim, and her smile drops.

"No? What do you mean, no?" she demands as you exhale.

"I still haven't told him, and I'd really appreciate it, if you'd lower your voice." you hiss as she pouts. "Maybe it's just not supposed to be." you shrug, and Emily looks visibly disgruntled with your thoughts. "I'm just saying... we're okay, because we apologized." you explain. "I don't want to risk making it awkward again, because I think I have feelings." and now you're being purposely dismissive.

"Oh, so now you're not sure?" Emily questions, and then she's clicking her tongue against her teeth. "No. I don't buy that." she denies, and she's stern, but discrete. "Don't do this, Y/N. Don't be that girl." she pleads. "There's nothing worse than regret. It eats at you until there's nothing left, you don't want to look back, and think 'what if!'" and that's twice you're hearing something of the sort. Wasn't there some quote about hearing important things twice? You're not sure.

"If you like him-" she pauses, head still shaking from side to side. "If you love him... like it seems, you owe it to yourself to tell him. What's the worst thing that could happen?" she questions, and you scoff. "No, realistically." she insists. "Realistically tell me what the worst thing could be? And not from that place where your irrational fears sit." she deadpans, and you feel attacked, it makes you look away.

"In the two years of you knowing Reid, do you actually think that he's the kind of guy to break you down to nothing if he doesn't feel the same?" she asks, and the answer when presented to you like this is no. "So tell me what it is that you're really scared of?" she presses, and you don't understand why everyone's so worked up over this. Why the whole unit seemed to be invested in you expressing your feelings.

"I don't want to mess it up..." you shrug your shoulders. "I don't want to make it weird." you offer, and Emily's unmoved by your answer.

"You managed to do that without saying a thing." she retorts, and you feel like you've got no room to speak, no voice to rebuttal with. "Let me be your shrink for a second." Emily is your friend for moments like these, where her clear allegiance to you shines through. "Talk to me." she prompts.

"Why are you so invested in this?" you inquire. "Why does it even matter?" you huff.

"Because it matters to you." she answers. "What? You didn't know that's how this team works?" she asks, and you huff out a puff of air through your nose. "This isn't about us playing matchmaker... it's about you realizing that you've got a few bad beliefs about romance... and friendships.... and relationships that are going to keep you all by yourself if you don't start speaking your mind." she shrugs.

"And despite the way you curl into yourself back here at your desk, we both know you don't really want to be alone." and you think you might cry, it makes you wince. "You owe it to yourself to try, but ultimately the decision is all yours. I just think you'll feel better if you take Reid aside, and tell him the truth about how you feel." she seems done, and you don't know how to respond. Emily pats your shoulder as she rounds your desk, before heading back across the unit.

You really hate profilers.

By the time you're heading home for the night, you and Spencer hadn't spoken again. You'd been so buried in work that you'd skipped lunch to get things done. You'd gotten a comment from Hotch about that, wondering if you were feeling alright. You knew that he knew the truth, even as you told him a fib. Hotch though, was discrete enough not to make you feel scrutinized by exposing just how obvious you were. You couldn't get Emily's words out of your head.

You didn't feel angry with her, and your embarrassment had managed to go away within the first forty minutes after she'd left you alone. You knew she was right, but it still didn't make things easier. It was almost like you forgot how to speak whenever the time came to really express yourself. You supposed that was why your apology had been so flat. Feelings weren't your strong suit, and you'd learned to express them by lashing out. A less than healthy way to live.

You liked that the team didn't speak to you like a child or treat you like you were incapable. Instead, they talked to you like an adult, gave the truth to you in a way that sliced through all your stubbornness and attitude. As you head towards the elevator, you hear footsteps, and look just in time to see Spencer making his way towards you. His satchel hangs off his shoulder, and he looks relieved, an emotion that you knew all too well by the end of a work shift.

You hoped there wouldn't be any cases that drug you back to the unit, all you wanted was a shower and a nap in your own bed.

Stepping into the elevator, Spencer trails you. He takes one side of the elevator, while you huddle up in the other. He offers you a tired smile as the doors slide closed, you offer him a smile right back. It's weary, mostly because you were drained, but partly, because Spencer had been the object of your thoughts the entire day. Especially after Emily's blunt speech. You were drained. The anxiety of keeping the secret far outweighed any fear of rejection now.

"Hey, are you alright?" he addresses you, after noticing the way you seemed lost in your head.

"Hmm?" you hum, and he repeats himself. It snaps you out of your mind spiral, and your head nods. A lie. "I'm all good, Spence." you reply, and he looks disappointed, but not surprised. "Thanks for asking though." you add a second after, and he offers you a dry little nod of his head. The elevator is back silent, and you hope the doors open quick. You might drown if the tension grew any thicker.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." he says, and you blank. Your confusion is clear as day on your face. "Earlier..." and your still not understanding. "I wasn't telling you that you were important to me, because I was expecting anything in return." he explains, and it clicks. "If it made you feel weird, I'm sorry. It just felt like the right way to express my point then." he proceeds, and you don't know how to collect yourself. "So, I'm sorry." and you want to scream.

Mostly at yourself for being so infuriatingly inadequate at expressing your thoughts and feelings.

"If you want, we could just pretend I never said anything?" he offers, and you don't answer quick enough. The elevator slides open just as the words are settling inside your head, and he's stepping out into the parking deck without another word. You sit there in the elevator for a moment, the door sliding shut after a moment, but you don't move. You feel like you're at a crossroads, almost at a point of no return. If you let Spencer leave now... like this, there would be no coming back.

There would be no room to gain some balls later, and try again. It wouldn't be fair to him. It wouldn't be fair to yourself.

You feel like hyperventilating, thoughts everywhere. Love had never been a subject you really understood. You'd always sort of saw it as this concrete construct. Unchangeable, always either black or white. A gloomy, gray, existence that could cut you up and spit you out. Love could turn you into a hollow version of who you once were. Love could break you down, and make you nothing. But then you think of your team. JJ and Penelope, Hotch, Dave, Emily, Derek. Spencer.

They were the rarest and purest examples of love in your day-to-day life, weren't they? You'd never quite met anyone who had your back more than your team. They fought for you, they fought with you. They believed in you, pushed you to be the best you that you could be. So why was it so hard, what were you scared of? Was it the notion of getting Spencer, and staining him? Blowing out that light inside him the way you'd witnessed for so long?

Was that a life worth living? Was it a chance you could take?

And then you huff, because damnit... you were tired of waiting. You were tired of anxiety, and uncertainty, and insecurity, and pain. You're certain that is why you hit the button to open the elevator. Gracefulness is not on your side as you practically sprint out into the car park, your eyes scanning hopefully for the familiar silhouette of your friend. When you spot him, you release a quiet noise of relief. "S-Spencer!" you hear the echo from your shout, and cringe.

But it doesn't matter, because he turns, he stops, and he's looking at you. His eyebrows are raised, hands gripping his bag, as you start to run. You ignore your fatigue, and your desire to run and hide, and instead run towards something for once. You don't stop running until you're past the point of 'personal space', you want to hover, you want to be in his space, because it was the only way you could possibly get through this. He looks a bit unsure, and still a bit grumpy.

You hope by the end of this that's no longer the case.

"Spencer, I don't want to forget about what you said." you're trying to catch your breath, bouncing up on your heels. "I don't want to pretend you never said it." you add, and Spencer's surprised expression has the hairs on your arm and neck ready to stand on end. "I-I actually want to know what you meant." you admit. "Because, I know what I meant when I said it... and it's not something that I take back." you express, and you can hear blood rushing in your ears.

"What did you mean?" Spencer asks, and you blanche.

"I asked you first." the obvious retort, and Spencer exhales loudly, but there's no annoyance, no exasperation. Only amusement, like always.

"I've done enough talking, haven't I?" he asks. "I want to know what you're thinking." and his voice is so soft, full of tenderness that you feel like you're being serenaded. You feel like you've got a knot in your throat also, almost like you'll suffocate if you don't get your thoughts out. "I promise I won't leave you hanging." and you're not sure what he means by that, but it helps. It makes your heart stutter-step, and you need to catch your breath, because you can't believe this is actually happening, or that you're actually here.

"I-" you play withy your fingers, and you have to inhale deeply to ensure you don't chicken out. "Spence, I didn't tell you that you were important to me, because you said it first." you promise, and he nods, but he doesn't say anything. His eyes are syrupy, alluring, and beautiful, still twinkling under the dingy, flickering lights of the parking deck. "I said it because you're all I really think about." you admit, and his eyebrows furrow, and you're scared.

"And the last three weeks... I've been so mad at you." you blurt out. "I was the one that acted like a child, but I was angry with you, because I thought that you were making fun of me... and all the feelings I have for you." you exhale, and you look down at the ground, because the nerves that come with your words are overwhelming. "I was jealous, I acted like a child, but it was only because I thought you were rubbing it in my face... I thought you were being cruel."

Spencer's long lashes blink rapidly, but he's still stone silent. Probably because he knows that you're still not done. "And that wasn't fair of me, because I know you, Spence. You're not that type of person, but I just I couldn't reign myself in, and I acted immaturely because I was scared... and then just now, in the elevator... I almost did it again. I almost let you think that I don't care about you... but I do. Spencer, I have feelings for you." and you clear your throat, legs shaking.

"I'm in love with you, and I'm not... this isn't some trick or ploy or cry for help. I understand if you're mind is elsewhere... and I'm so sorry if the way I've been acting ruined everything, but I-I love you okay? That's what this has all been about. I'm sorry it took me so long to say something, but there it is." and you gasp, chest heaving now that you were finished. You finally look up at Spencer again, and he's staring you down. It doesn't feel hypersexual or heady with tension.

Instead, it's like the first intake of air into your lungs after being under water for so long. You supposed that's what the truth did, you supposed that's what your feelings for Spencer did when you allowed them to exist. "You mean that?" he asks, and you huff.

"Of course, I mean it. I mean it so much, I think I'm going to be sick." and despite himself he laughs, a bright beam following after it. He takes a small step towards you, and you feel crowded, the body heat from you both warming you up from the inside out. Still, despite how outwardly calm he looked in comparison to you, you managed to spot the shyness, the anxiety that rested in his own eyes. He looked unsure, almost like he was being careful not to ruin the moment.

"Do you know how long I've been wanting to hear you say that?" he asks, and you're shocked, stuck, surprised. You don't know if this is in your mind or if you just got lucky. "Have you ever-" he's got this gleeful look on his face. "There's this quote by Lao Tzu..." he stammers, "Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart, and the senses." he quotes, and there are no butterflies... you think that might be a good thing.

"I don't know if there's been a time since I met you that you haven't been on my mind." Spencer explains, and there it is. "I think that's why I snapped the way I did, I don't think I ever imagined a scenario where we'd be here." he admits, and it pains you to know that he thought that way. "It was-" he motions between you both. "The thought of us being something was sort of just something I believed would always sort of just be a thought." Spencer's glowing red.

The blush coats his ears, cheeks, nose, and neck. His eyes are brighter, and his hands twitch at his side, almost like he's restraining himself. You think you only notice, because you're doing the same.

"I want to be with you." he says this so faintly you're almost unsure you heard him correctly. Your eyes widen, and your surprise is obvious. He takes a small step forward, and he's crowding you. It's nothing like the movies, in fact, the closer he gets to you, the more you're able to see the shyness in his eyes. He reaches out, and his hand ghosts over your side.

"Spence-" and the you that you were just an hour earlier, the one too scared to tell him the truth almost feels like she never even existed.

"Can I?" he asks, and your eyes drift to his hands that are inching closer to your body. You nod your head quickly, and he doesn't look amused. "I want to hear you." he says quietly. "I want you to tell me that I can." he adds, and you find yourself nodding anyway.

"Y-You can." you promise. "But I don't want you to pretend." his eyebrows furrow again. "Please don't do this if you don't mean it." you say, and Spencer's hands drop to your side, there's no wandering fingers, in fact it feels like he wanted to touch you for the sole purpose of keeping you from shaking any longer.

"Y/N, I want to be with you." he repeats it more firmly this time, and he's looking directly at you. It's intense, the eye contact more than anything else. He sounds sincere, and that makes you nervous.

"But what about..." and you trail off, because you don't know what to label the pretty woman he'd been entertaining. Spencer chuckles quietly, and his head shakes from side to side.

"She was nice." he reiterates the words he'd said three weeks prior. "But, she's not you... I don't think anyone would've been able to fill your shoes." he says, and you squeeze your eyes closed, because God, Spencer was so good with words. His hands are on your face, brushing at your cheeks as you shed a few long overdue tears. "Are these happy tears?" he asks hopefully, and your eyes shoot open. Your head nods, and you're not sure why you're so quiet.

Maybe, because life had thrown a curveball and surprised you in a good way. "Happy tears." you agree, and he presses his lips together, thumbs still working to keep the tears at bay. "I just can't believe-"

"Please do." he cuts you off, before you can get it out. "Believe this, believe me." he almost begs, and you hum. "Can I kiss you?" he asks, and you don't answer him, instead you surge forward and press your lips to his. You're certain security is getting a full view of the action, Spencer kisses like he wants to inhale you, and it's nice.. It's more than nice, his kisses are surged with emotion, every ounce of affection that his words had been drenched in was felt in the kiss.

Had breathing not been a factor, you might have stayed there. When you pull back to inhale, Spencer's got this twinkle in his eye that makes your nose scrunch up. "What?" you press, and he grins at you.

"You love me..." he breathes it out, and you're not sure if he's stating it or asking, but you suppose now that the cat's out of the bag, saying it again is nothing.

"Yeah. I love you, Spence." you promise, and he's quick to lean in and peck you on the lips. "D'you love me too?" you ask, once he's pulled back, and his hands move up, cupping both sides of your face as he drags his thumbs up and down.

"I love you." and it sounds like a promise.

So you believe him.

"It’s a profoundly strange feeling, to stumble across someone whose desires are shaped so closely to your own, like reaching toward your reflection in a mirror and finding warm flesh under your fingertips. If you should ever be lucky enough to find that magical, fearful symmetry, I hope you’re brave enough to grab it with both hands and not let go.” ― Alix E. Harrow

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader smut

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favefandomimagines · 5 months

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Ocean Away (a.b)

Summary: a disastrous fight threatens to end your engagement with Anthony

AN: inspired by “Ocean Away” from the Unofficial Bridgerton Musical. I know it’s a song for Daphne and Simon but I thought it would fit so well with Anthony

This was deeeep in my drafts

He hadn’t meant for it to get so out of hand. What started out as a seemingly normal conversation, ended in both you and Anthony shouting at each other.

“Anthony, I need to ask you something.” You said to your fiancé. “Yes, darling?” He questioned. “When was the last time you saw Siena?” You asked.

The question took him aback. You have never spoken of Siena or his past endeavors. Meaning something must have made you ask him. “What has made you wonder such a thing?” Anthony asked. “Lady Whistledown,” You started before a scoff cut you off.

“Lady Whistledown? You are believing this gossip now.” He spoke. “She has never been wrong before, Anthony. She wrote that she saw you leave the opera house the other evening.” You said.

“An evening where you said you were with Benedict.” You added. “You are above believing these lies, Y/N.” He said. “You have not yet denied it once.” You replied.

Anthony had yet to deny any of what Lady Whistledown wrote and that made you fear that what you had read was true. “I should not have to. We are to be husband and wife in a matter of weeks and you question my fidelity to you.” Anthony said.

“Because two weeks before you proposed to me you were with her. Am I wrong for worrying?” You rebutted. “Your insecurities are not my doing, do not put this blame on me.” He snapped. “My insecurities? I have never been insecure in our engagement until you gave me a reason to be.” You spoke. “This is mad. You believe Lady Whistledown over me?” He asked.

“For goodness sake, Anthony, you have not denied it! There is only one side to this currently and it is hers.” You yelled. “Well, forgive me for not wanting to entertain this any longer.” He said, turning away from you. “You cannot even be honest with me, can you?” You asked quietly.

Anthony could hear the way your voice began to break as his back was to you. He never wanted to hurt you.

Hurting you was at the top of a list of things he never wanted to do to you. And by not claiming his innocence because of his pride, he was hurting you.

“I am going to spend the night in Eloise’s room.” You announced. Anthony still made no attempt to move or even apologize.

You wiped a tear from your face quickly as you headed for the door.

“I sincerely hope you know that Lady Whistledown said I was mad for accepting your proposal. That you would always be the naive and self-sabotaging young viscount. Please do not prove her right.” You spoke before leaving the room.

The problem was Anthony was a prideful man and it would be his pride that would prevent him from doing what was right.

The garden party was supposed to be a celebration of your engagement and it was turning quite sour. Luckily, no one knew of the turmoil that was going on because of the facade you had put on all day.

You spoke to guests, entertained their prodding questions into your wedding and tried to carry on with the afternoon. Your eyes often wandered to Anthony, who was standing stoically with Colin and Benedict. He looked as if he had completely forgotten about your argument as if it meant nothing.

It hurt you, seeing him act so blasè about what had occurred the night prior. That made you fearful because what if he ended the engagement? What if he did not want you anymore?

He had yet to apologize for the way he spoke and the words he said, you had hoped he had just forgotten. Or maybe he was not sorry at all.

You found Eloise and Penelope Featherington, both girls trying to help distract you from your own thoughts.

Eloise was one of your favorite people because of simply how she was unapologetically herself. She was a very funny young woman and that was refreshing in society.

Anthony watched you as you smiled and laughed with his sister by the lake. You were happy after all that happened last night. How could you be happy?

“How can she be smiling? It is as if she realized I am not what she wants.” Anthony spoke aloud. Benedict and Colin looked at one another, neither knowing how to approach the topic.

“Brother, maybe she is trying to be brave. Not let people know she is hurting. They all believe you were with Siena the other evening, she is trying to show it is all a lie. Even if she does not believe it herself.” Benedict said.

Anthony continued to watch you, your eyes never once meeting his gaze. He knew he needed to apologize to you. Tell you that he was never with Siena and the moment he realized you were who he wanted, he had not seen her.

There was a moment where he lost you in the crowd of people. He did not know where you went off to and that worried him more so than his pride.

Anthony started frantically looking around the grounds for you, weaving through the crowd until he spotted you sitting on the bench under the willow tree.

You had always loved that spot and often times Anthony would catch you reading there. It was also the spot you were sitting in when the two of you confessed your love for each other for the first time.

He approached you silently and sat down a few inches away from you.

“I remember the first time I saw you. You had just arrived at the Queen’s ball with your mother and it felt as if time stopped. There was nothing, that tempted me to take my eyes off of you. I knew then that I wanted you and only you. You made me believe that marriage could be for love and for nothing else.” Anthony spoke.

Him recounting the night of your debut made your eyes well up with tears.

“I am afraid. I am afraid that you will want her again and I cannot go through that kind of pain. I love you with everything that I am and if I was not enough for you, it would be the death of me.” You confessed.

Anthony looked at you with slightly wide eyes, never having heard your concerns before. He blamed his past behavior on your fears knowing it was not an easy feat to love someone with his reputation.

He moved closer to you and took your hand in his. “I am also afraid.” He spoke. It was then you looked at him with eyes wide, never having heard the man you love he so vulnerable.

“I am afraid that I will not make you happy. That one day you will wake up and feel like some other man could make you happier.” He continued. “I do not think there is another man in this lifetime who will make me as happy as you do.” You said.

“I have not nor will I ever, see Siena again. You are the woman I love, the woman I cannot stop thinking about. It will always be you.” Anthony said. “She has always had such a strong hold on you, forgive me for being skeptical.” You muttered.

“Now the only woman who has a strong hold on me is you. And that is how it will stay.” He replied. “Do you promise?” You asked. “I promise.” He spoke without hesitation.

Anthony took your hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I love you, Y/N. I always have and I always will.” He said. “I love you too.” You spoke. “And I’m sorry.” You added. “You have nothing to be sorry for, my love.” Anthony replied.

“Your mama might think we have run off and abandoned our own celebration.” You commented. “That does sound rather tempting.” Anthony teased.

You stood up and held your hand out for his, which he took with a smile. If you would have told Anthony Bridgerton that he was about to get married and to the love of his life, he would have called you mad. But here he was, and couldn’t have been happier.

#imagine #imagines #anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #colin bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #penelope featherington #bridgerton imagine #daphne bridgerton

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urfavoritegirlkisser · 8 months

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"Midnight Rain" - Rockstar!Ellie Williams x Popstar!Reader

a/n - finally getting back to writing!! it's been tough with school and stuff but I was finally able to write this, which had three drafts of how it could maybe go so enjoy!

Tags: Fem!Reader, Fem!Popstar!Reader, Rockstar!Ellie, wlw, slightly suggestive since it's kinda implied they had a one night stand, lightly proof read sorry babydolls, petnames like sweetheart and honey, playboy!Ellie, asshole!Ellie kinda, use of y/n, a little angsty won't lie, insecure!reader, lemme know if I forgot anything xoxo

You wake up to the constant ping of your phone on your nightstand, quickly realizing this wasn’t the hotel room your manager had arranged for you and registering the faint sound of the shower running.

Sitting up, you let yourself fully wake up before reaching over to grab your phone from the nightstand

The top one is a message from your manager with the link to a news article

“Pop Star Y/N Not As Innocent As She Seems?”

The article is about some grainy photos and a video of you last night at an after party with Ellie, who is in a rock band under the same label as you, it was your first big win taking home a Grammy for ‘Best New Artist’ and you decided to let yourself loose for once.

Your management wanted to keep up this facade of a sweet young pop star and that meant no ‘going wild’ as your manager liked to call it.

So the photos of you dancing and making out with Ellie Williams, who was known for her bad reputation and playboy tendencies was not good for your reputation apparently.

Speak of the devil…

You realize the shower has turned off and you see as Ellie walks into the room, clad in just a sports bra and sweats as she dries her hair off with a towel.

She looks over and smirks, “Well look who finally decided to wake up” she says with a chuckle and offers you a shirt of her own

You blush slightly, putting on the shirt before grabbing your discarded undergarments and quickly slipping them on, “My manager messaged me an article, apparently someone took some photos and videos of us last night at the party”

Ellie sits on the bed with her back against the headboard, “So? Not the first time this has happened” she says while fiddling with the rings on her fingers

You sigh and roll your eyes, “I mean to you maybe, but my manager is currently on my ass about what we’re supposed to do now and-”

Ellie cuts you off with a scoff, “Sweetheart it’ll be fine, they’ll circulate the pictures for a few weeks and then everyone will be over it”

You sit there before turning to her fully, “Will you be over it too?” you ask softly

The look in her eyes makes you regret even asking that.

“What? You think this is going to continue once you walk out that door?” she says with a laugh that makes your heart drop to your stomach, “Look you’re cute and all but I have a reputation to keep, honey”

You felt stupid, because of course this would just be a one time thing for her, and you knew that.

Maybe you thought you would be the one to change that.

“Right…sorry, yeah, I’m gonna go” you say as you take off her shirt and just put on the dress you wore to the after party, grabbing your things and making your way to the door of Ellie’s hotel room.

“Honey, don’t be like that” Ellie calls after you but you simply walk out the door and to the elevators where you go to your room a couple floors up, setting your stuff down, changing into casual clothes and sitting down on your bed.

You don’t know why you thought that you could change her mind, it was a fun night, but one that was meant to be forgotten.

Everyone will forget it happened, including Ellie.

You’ll forget it happened.

an - sorry if that was all over the place, I rewrote this like three times, anyways go drink water you girl kissers xo

#wlw fanfic #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x fem reader

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harlowhockeystick · 8 months

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LOVESTRUCK, WENT STRAIGHT TO MY HEAD ⎯ S. CROSBY

y/n just wants the best for her son, she thinks the program rule of no freshmen players on varsity is stupid. she just did what any mother would do...right?

coach!sidney crosby x teacher!single mom!reader

warnings: angst, smut (fingering, handjob, sex on a table), somewhat of an inappropriate relationship, single parent content, light talk of divorce, lowkey based off of "slut!" by taylor swift

word count: 4,244

a/n: look at that....i do still know how to write

The bitterness of the coffee wasn’t doing it’s job. On her third cup and it’s not even ten in the morning, Y/N waits for the next period of students to walk through her door. Taking in one of the few moments of silence she has, she refreshes the page on the sports page on the school website, itching to see her son’s name.

Carter had tryouts with the hockey team last week, he had been talking about it since the beginning of the month. He was training every day to make varsity; in leagues ever since he was ten years old every single coach and spectator could not brag enough on how much talent he had. Y/N was pressured to send him across the country, even out of the country, to go to the top hockey camps but as a single mother she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bear to send her baby off to some strangers for a few months, and she couldn't afford to move away from family either.

But her heart dropped as she refreshed the page, pulled up this season's roster, and saw her son’s name and number on the junior varsity roster instead of varsity. She didn’t understand it, she was told by the coaches herself that he was the best kid on the ice that day. Why didn’t he make varsity?

Her questions were interrupted by students flooding into the classroom for the start of the next period. She pulled herself out of her thoughts to then teach this class period. Reluctantly though.

The final bell rang and that meant she was done for the day. Saying goodbye to her students Y/N started to gather papers and put them in the “to grade” folder to take home with her before tidying up some areas of the room. She anticipated her son’s arrival. Ever since moving up to high school he always stopped by her room at the end of the day to talk about school and help her carry things to her car.

“I didn’t make it.” Carter said as a greeting when he walked in the empty room. His face was defeated, his tall slender frame was slumped over in sadness and his eyes welling with tears. Out of all people Y/N knew and saw how hard he worked to make varsity his freshman year. He skated over fifty laps a day, worked on shots in the garage until way past dusk, he also started to lift more weights.

“Oh baby, c’mere,” Y/N pulled her much taller son in for a hug. There he broke and rested into his mother's arms like a little kid again. He softly cried before pulling away.

“I don’t get it mom, they told me i’d make it for sure, why would he tell me-” “Don’t worry about it son, I will talk to the coach first thing in the morning. I promise. But for now you have to play the cards you were dealt,” Y/N consoled her son in the way moms know how. Gathering her bags she gave the heaviest one to Carter to help carry out the building. They continued chatting on the way to her car, talking about school and homework he had for the week. Carter was a special kid, he deeply cared about his grade and education. He remembers promising his mom when he was younger that if he ever got to play hockey in college that he would get his degree and not go to the draft early.

Carter was a momma’s boy through and through. His dad lived an hour away so he spent the weekends there twice a month, but he’s at his mom’s house the rest of the time. Carter is also protective of his mom too. He never told her this, but he’s beat in a couple boys’ faces because they made some lewd comments about her. He’s respectful of her, more than any other man on earth ever has been. Y/N is very proud of how she’s raised her son.

“Okay son, go to practice. Have a positive attitude, don’t do anything stupid okay? I know you’re frustrated but just go into practice and do you, maybe they got you mixed up with someone else. But-” she saw his facial expressions change and get tense, she knew that he was still angry inside, “hey, don’t get mad at them. Wait until I talk and then you and I will figure something out.”

They walked in opposite directions, Carter to the athletic building and Y/N back to the school for one more item in her classroom. Hustling as best she can so she can get home, she runs into the person she didn’t want to speak to until in the morning. Coach Crosby.

She felt her body coil and tense up in anger at just the sight. She was supposed to wait until morning, but her tongue got the best of her.

“Coach! Hey, can I ask you a quick question?” she pulls him to the side, into an empty classroom where the teacher had left for the day.

“What’s up?” Sidney asked, sitting down on one of the wooden desks. He was wearing black joggers, a tight pullover with a school cap on. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the material of his clothing clung to his toned body. He had been out of the professional league for at least two years, but he still kept up the physical shape of his body, and it was obvious by the way his pants were stretching at the seams on his thighs.

“I really don’t want to be that parent, but can you tell me why Carter didn’t make varsity?” Sidney cocks his head to the side. He’s only been on sight three months and he’s already dealing with this.

“Well, it’s my understanding that freshmen must be on the JV team, no matter how good they are. That rule was put in place before I got here.” He explained while crossing his arms over his chest, his muscles making his pullover look incredibly small on his frame. “He’s a good kid though, he’ll make great improvements this year and I'll look forward to having him on varsity next year.” Sidney said, trying to end the conversation and smooth things over.

“But…you’re the new coach. This is your program now, not someone else’s.” Y/N couldn’t really understand what he was getting at. Did he not see the potential in her son that everyone seemed to say? Did he not see the great player, the great athlete that Carter was? Maybe it was just her being a mother, and so obviously her child is the best compared to other kids. But she swore she didn’t want to be like those parents. She remembers being a kid in youth sports herself and hated parents who thought their kid should be player of the week every week. In her mind, she needed to earn player of the week because of her work ethic, not because her parents were board members.

“Right but I'm not trying to ruffle any feathers my first year. This is barely my program, I need to establish relationships before I change things here,” Y/N takes a step closer to Sidney, her hands folded in front of her.

“But you’re Sidney Crosby, who can say no to you?” God she feels horrible for doing this, she feels like…like some junior league mom whose husband has nothing between his ears. But she thinks, if she can just rile him up for a minute, startle him, then he’ll change his mind and put Carter on varsity. That’s her end goal, get her son feeling better. If that means pretending to be a horny college student again, so be it. “I mean really, they had to give you this job cause they trust you. So obviously you can do what you want, like putting my son on your varsity team.”

He sighs, looking down at his shoes. He knows what she’s doing…and he can’t believe it’s sort of working. He hasn’t had a woman flirt with him in heaven knows how long. He doesn’t even know how to respond to such a thing anymore. His life for the past almost twenty years has been nothing but hockey. Sidney’s family has been asking him for a long time when he is going to settle down with someone, but nobody ever scratched that itch quite like hockey did. But now? That he’s got a woman in front of him, a gorgeous one at that, who’s buttering him up? Maybe he’ll give in…just to see what it feels like.

“Your son is a hell of a player, Y/N. He really could go far,” His words got heavier as she got closer, he could smell her perfume, he could feel her breath, he could see her chest move up and down with every huff she took- “so put him on your team, Coach.” she put her hand on his chest softly and she sighed feeling his stern muscles. “C’mon, what’s it gonna take? Dinner and a show?”

His eyes, dark and blown, looked into hers and if he remembers what the term eye fucking means then that’s exactly what they were doing. His breaths became short but heavy as she left a heavy hand on his chest. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek, trying her best to work her charm that she used to have. She hopes she’s still got it.

He thinks, thinks, and thinks. This is a bad decision.

“My place, six thirty tomorrow evening. Give me your best sales pitch, and we’ll see about the show.”

Sidney stands up and for a brief second his nose bumps hers, an innocent touch but it makes him take a deep breath in to calm himself down. He exits the empty class room and takes long strides to get to practice, glancing at his watch he’s already a few minutes behind.

She’s eternally grateful that Carter is with his dad this weekend. How could she explain to him that she’s not really going on a date…but she’s going to his coach's house with plans to seduce him..but again it’s not a date. Of course, she’d have to leave out the seducing part. She put on her best dress that she had, it was pretty simple but it hugged her figure nicely. She made sure to spritz some extra perfume on as well.

The drive to Sidney’s house is silent, it’s her having fake conversations in her head about what to say or what not to say. Debating on if her seduction speech was still on date or if it’s too cheesy now. She suddenly feels like she lives in the lowest tax bracket possible when entering his neighborhood; she's never seen so many fake lawns before. She’s actually never been on this side of town much, except to look at christmas lights when Carter was younger. Now that he’s older he doesn’t care for that stuff anymore.

“Nice place you’ve got,” she said walking into his entry way. To her surprise Sidney dressed up a little bit, wearing a button up with a nice pair of slacks, the top two buttons undone for visual purposes of course. He takes her coat and her purse, hanging it up by the door. “What’s on the menu?”

“Well, I figured I'd go simple with just spaghetti and toast, with dessert to follow if that’s okay.” Sidney went into his pantry and pulled out a bottle of red wine. “This okay?” He holds the bottle in the air and she nods her head, sitting at his kitchen bar watching him pour a glass. She takes a glance at the label and she’s taken back. On her teacher salary she definitely can’t afford that brand.

Maybe she’s in over her head here- she didn’t think about any of this stuff. Suddenly she’s this woman who doesn’t have much to her name, sitting in a millionaire’s kitchen drinking wine that costs well over two hundred dollars- but damn if it doesn’t taste good.

They make small talk before heading into the dining room where he sets dinner onto the table for her, such a gentleman. Continuing the semi dull conversation she thanks him for making a meal for her, joking that she’s never had a man make dinner for her. Only half true, her dad growing up would make dinners for her family. But when she married Carter’s dad, she was the chef in the family. Not that she was complaining, it was just odd for her to be on the reverse side for the first time in a while.

“I am sorry about that idiotic rule, Y/N. Carter can easily be a varsity player.” Sidney broke the minute silence after finishing off his second glass of wine that night. She huffs, finishing her plate and scooting it away from her on the table. Was she really about to do this?

“Is there anything I can do, sidney? C’mon my boy’s in shambles, he’s thinking that he’s not as good as everyone makes him out to be,” Y/N reaches her hand out to rest on his softly. “Is there anything I can do?”

Y/N hoped he knew what she was implying and that she didn’t have to say it out loud.

And he did.

He understood every word she said and the words that were left unsaid. He knew what she was implying and he knew what she was getting at. But Sidney hated that he was willing to do what she wanted. Y/N was leaning forward on the table, getting close enough to Sidney where he could smell her perfume and her lotion mixed together, he could see a couple small freckles up close as he couldn’t see them from a bit further away.

There were no words exchanged between them, his eyes kept drifting from her tinted lips to her lustful eyes, back and forth a couple times before resting his hand on her cheek and pressing his lips against hers gently. Immediately he felt a rush of arousal- it’s just a kiss, really? He silently asked himself. He hadn’t gotten this aroused in a while, a long while.

Both parties leaned into the kiss, wanting and aching for more. They tasted wine on each other and felt each other’s temperature begin to rise. Sidney got out of his chair, lips still connected to hers, and got closer. She stood up, one hand cupping his chin and the other resting on his chest, and she leaned against the dining table. She hadn’t made out with someone in years, she hopes she’s doing it right.

She gets pushed onto the table just by the force of his body so now she’s sitting on the wooden table, Sidney standing in between her legs with both of his hands cupping her face. He doesn’t care if he seems desperate or if he seems needy, or if this is totally wrong and against almost all of the words he signed in his contract, he can’t seem to get enough of her. Sidney feels her play with the buttons of his shirt and how she begins to pull the shirt up and out of his dress pants. It was easy since he wasn’t wearing a belt.

He didn’t even know that she completely unbuttoned his shirt until he felt her hands roam all over his naked chest, her hands slowly raking up and down his toned muscles. He takes a breath and scans her body. Her skin is hot to the touch, her eyes are completely blown now and her lips are parted. “How do I get this off you?” he asked, taking a fist of the hem of her dress.

“There's a tie in the back,” she huffed out, not able to take her hands off his body. Plus, she wants him to take it off of her.

“You tied this yourself?” he asked in shock, surprised at how she tied such a perfect bow on her back with such thin strings.

“I’ve been tying, zipping, buttoning my dresses myself for the past twelve years now, safe to say I got pretty good at it.” God- has she been alone for the past twelve years? Nobody to love on, kiss on, touch on this wonderful body of hers? Sidney takes in a sharp breath when he pulls the dress off of her and he gives her body a quick scan over. Wearing a strapless bra that she’s almost spilling out of, she has on silk leopard print panties that he can’t help but notice a significant damp spot on.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, hands roaming over her soft skin. “Don’t make fun of me, it’s been a long time since I've hooked up with someone.” because that’s just what this is, a hookup. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I haven’t since I got divorced, so it's the same here.” she hooks her leg around his pulling him closer. He pressed his lips against hers again this time most softly. His hand goes down to play with the hem of her panties, “you sure about this?”

“Very sure, don’t mess with a pissed off mama sidney.” she pulls him down with her as she lays down on the table. He kisses down her body, she arches her back and lets him take her bra off. Tossing it onto the floor Sidney wraps his lips around one of her hardened nipples. She lets out a heavenly sounding moan at the action.

It’s been so long she could cum just from Sidney doing this for a couple minutes longer. One hand slips down over her clothed cunt, rubbing her sensitive and wet area. She arches her body into his, already she’s lost in a great euphoric high that she can’t even mumble words. All that’s coming out is moans and gasps.

He removes his mouth and Sidney stands up, she watches up on her elbows as he takes his pants off and removes his boxers. She bites her lip at the size - the sight - of his hardened dick in his hand. She reaches out for it herself, “you’ll give me what I want, and I promise you won’t regret it.” he thought for a moment too long, she began to doubt herself but he spoke up, “deal.”

She licks her hand before taking a grip on his cock. Slowly she starts stroking up and down, keeping harsh eye contact with sidney. She gives him a nice squeeze and a twist of her hand which makes him throw his head back in pleasure. He can only do so much with his hand, it’s nice to have someone else for a change. Y/N scoots closer to him on the table, with one of his hands he works his hand over one of her breasts softly massaging it. She leans into his touch and continues to work her hands over his hard cock.

He moves his hand from her breast down and slips it into her soaked panties. At first his fingers were a little cold but they quickly warmed up after being immersed in her sex. He circles around her clit a couple times, getting familiar with the female body again. He explores for a minute or two, his middle finger teasing her hole. The more he teases her the harder her grip gets on his cock. He pulls his hand out of her panties, they’ve never broken eye contact this whole time and he sucks everything off of his hand. God that was hot.

Sidney removes her hand from his cock fearing if she kept going he would cum all over her hand and that wasn’t what he wanted to do. He’s panting heavy now, his body forming sweat on his forehead. He pushes her down onto the table with a palm on her chest lining his cock up with her entrance, “wait do I need any-”

She chuckles, “that ship sailed a while ago, just fuck me like you mean it coach.”

With her permission she slides in and she lets out a long, loud, moan as he does it. He wants to hear that on repeat for the rest of his life, he swears. Sidney puts both hands on her hips, keeping her body steady as he rocks in and out of her, his hips meeting her every time.

Sidney allows to feel himself in her warm, wet walls. He throws his head back in pleasure and she shuts her eyes tight. Her hands come up to her breasts to add to the pleasure, fingers pinching both of her nipples as she feels his huge cock pump in and out of her small hole. He feels like he’s three feet deep inside of her, he feels lost in how good she feels. His head grows foggy each time he squeezes her.

Sidney hits the spongy spot in her tight cunt that made her gasp out in pleasure, she sang his name like a chant over and over which made him fuck her harder and harder. She warned him about her orgasm and he did the same, begging her to cum with him. A few more pumps of his cock he spilled his heavy load inside of her and she moaned loudly like a queen when he did. He pulled his cock out of her, watching his load spill out with it.

Maybe it was the post orgasm haze she was in, maybe it was the lovestruck feeling she had the minute they began making out, but minutes later she’s standing between him and the cold shower wall. His forehead pressed against hers. His fingers knuckle deep in her cunt and a hand wrapped around her throat as hot water rained down on either of them, her cunt squeezing his thick fingers while she couldn’t even say anything but his name. That’s exactly what he wanted.

The hot shower water kept her eyes shut but she knew that he was gazing at her. He was in awe of her facial expressions, how she bit her lip through a smile with every jerk he made with his hand, when she furrowed her eyebrows when she was on the edge of cumming, and how she cocked her head to the side while he kissed around her neck silently asking for more.

He took his hand away from her pussy, licking the honey off his fingers. He stayed that close to her though knowing her legs were probably jello and she wasn’t able to stand for at least a minute or two.

She took a deep breath, “got what you wanted?” she asked in a joking tone, moving her hand up and down his chest in the hot steamy shower. He chuckled, his hands never leaving her body. He palmed her breasts, he seemed to have a thing for those she contemplated, heavy lustful eyes staring into hers.

“How many more you got in you?” he asked, spreading her legs with his thigh.

“I can give you as much as you want.” Y/N answered, her hands slowly roaming down lower and lower on his chest and stomach.

“Then no, I didn’t get what I want yet.”

She woke up in Sidney’s bed the next morning with messy hair and sore muscles. Looking over on the nightstand the clock read 8:02 AM. She was glad that it was a Saturday and she was able to sleep in. She saw that Sidney was still asleep, he laid on his stomach with his head facing the other way. Looking over his back, studying the freckles, the faded scars. Y/N wants to stay in this moment for as long as she can.

She hates to admit but she really fell for Sidney. Not because of how skilled he was in bed, or because he could do wicked things with his hands, but she shared a few heartfelt conversations with him before tryouts even began.

He cared for the kids at school, the kids he taught and the kids he coached. He had a heart for the coming generation. He wanted them to have someone in their corner, and some kids don’t have that at home and he wants to be that. She got lovestruck in the past few months, sure she never planned on sleeping with him, she felt young again with how big of a crush she had. It went straight to her head, it all moved so fast.

God if her mother were still here she could just hear the word “slut!” come out of her mouth if her mom found out what happened. But she wouldn’t care. She enjoyed it, and she was sure Sidney enjoyed it too.

But still, she can’t help but think to herself what did I just do?

Sidney turns his head and sees that she’s also awake. Raising up he sees the time, 8:10. He doesn’t even care that he missed his morning workout session an hour late. He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer to him, tucking his head in her neck. With dry lips Sidney placed a tender lingering kiss on her hot skin.

It might be worth it for once, she thinks.

feedback | masterlist | au tag

tagging mutuals to boost, let me know if you don’t want to be tagged! @fallinallincurls @nylwnder @bitchinbarzal @ilyasorokinn @leafsbabe @twinklelilstarkey @raysofcrosby @lcandothisallday

#j's writing #sidney crosby #coach!sidney #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl writing #nhl smut #sidney crosby smut #nhl x you #smut #drabble #blurb

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allfortheslay25 · 2 months

Note

Any sweet bonding moments between Neil and Milo?

Milo’s Future spoilers!

Have a crumb of one of my favorite Neil and Milo bonding moments :)

Chapter snippet/draft:

The drive to an abandoned lot shouldn’t have made Neil as nervous as he felt. Andrew had been cryptic about why he expected the two Jostens to meet him there, and this was the first alone time the two have had since their talk. Neil glanced over to Milo, silent and tense in the passenger. He kept his face pressed against the window, blond curls fluffing over his eyebrows as he stiffly folded his arms over his lap. Neil had been horribly surprised by the color change. Andrew and the rest of the Foxes tried to convince him to let it go. Milo was a teenager now and teens experimented all the time.

It’s his body. Andrew had told him. He won’t want you telling him he can’t do what he wants with it.

So Neil let the matter drop. Until a week later when he showed up home with pierced ears. Neil put his foot down and calmly—maybe slightly loudly—told Milo he wasn’t allowed to make any more of these ‘changes’ with his body. The conversation didn’t last long civilly. Some things were said and some people—not that Neil was naming Milo—broke a kitchen chair.

Neil sighed deeply. He didn’t know if he preferred Milo’s outbursts or his silence. When Milo went nonverbal, it was almost as if he was ceasing to exist. Neil never could tell if he was eating, doing his homework, volunteering at the cat shelter, or even breathing anymore. He was a ghost in their house.

Once the lot came into view, Neil parked and searched for his phone. He was checking the backseat when the car shook with the force of the slamming door. Neil sat up and furrowed his brow at Milo who leaned against the Mas in silence. Neil went back to searching when it began to ring and call out to him under his seat.

When the phone was in hand, Neil flipped it open and answered Andrew.

“We’re here.” Neil said, glancing at Milo. The boy had grown tall, standing at a good 5’9 without a means to stop there. Neil hoped this growth spurt would finalize before he was fifteen, he didn’t think he could take Milo gaining a couple inches more.

“I’m pulling up.” Andrew replied and clicked on him before Neil could ask what he meant.

The answer came to Neil when a steel gray Camaro came speeding into the lot. The car was brand new with features sharper than a knife. Neil knew nothing about cars other than what they looked like and which ones he had used to get away back in the day. One look from this car told Neil it was fast, probably faster than the Mas.

Milo was standing in front of it now in confusion, watching as Andrew got out, leaving it running. Neil couldn’t hear what they were saying when Andrew tossed Milo the keys, the boy beginning to grin ear to ear. Neil rolled the window down quickly just as Milo flung himself at Andrew and hugged him.

“You bought him a car!?” He exclaimed.

Milo was giddily checking out the inside of the Camaro now, adjusting the seat and mirrors to his liking. Andrew watched him with a nonchalant expression, but Neil knew Andrew by now to know he was avoiding him.

“Andrew.” Neil called.

The man faced him then. He held Neil’s eyes before clicking his tongue and shuffling over to him. Neil glared as he leaned against the window, trying to seem guiltless.

Andrew watched Neil before flicking him on the chin. “Don’t give me that look, Rabbit.” Neil was not giving him a look, Andrew was just being insufferable right now. “I taught him to drive.” He defended, putting his hand in his pocket.

Neil glanced at the hand, understanding Andrew’s childish expression of restraint. Neil wouldn’t let him try to soften him up anyway. He stared Andrew down until the blond lost the battle.

He admitted dryly, “He’s been in a mood.”

“That doesn’t mean you buy him a car.” Neil hissed.

“You bought me a car when I was in a mood.”

“I didn’t do it because you were in a mood—”

“Hey, Dad!” Milo called, pulling the Camaro in beside the Maserati so Andrew was sandwiched in the middle. His eyes shimmered with a fire that wasn’t his usual anger and bitterness but something all the more contagious.

The Camaro roared at the Mas and Neil felt the unspoken words boil the blood under his flesh. He gripped the steering wheel and felt a grin of his own pulling at his face.

“Drew,” Neil began, taking the Maserati out of park. Milo pressed on the gas, revving the engine in anticipation. “We’ll be back soon.”

Neil didn’t bother glancing at Andrew’s confused glance before he was speeding after Milo’s Camaro, a few steps ahead of the Maserati.

They pushed the cars as far as they could, Neil taking a few seconds to watch Milo as the boy laughed, but then he’d leave Neil in the dust again. The race had them dangerously navigating the streets as they bobbed and weaved through cars. Neil at one point drifted loudly through a gas station just to catch up, almost crashing into the steel Camaro before Milo swerved away, laughing loud into the wind. By the time they were driving back to the lot, Neil could tell he was truly beat. The Maserati was a decade too old to keep up and Milo drove like Andrew did; wild and unbothered by attention or danger.

They both came to a screeching end in the positions they had before they left. Andrew hadn’t moved from his spot and was staring at the two of them in disbelief.

“What the fuck?”

Neil glanced at Milo in time to laugh alongside him. Milo smiled wide, his face glowing as his pupils dilated from the high boost of adrenaline. If not for his hands stiffly glued to the wheel, he was sure he’d float away from the high he was riding right now.

Andrew leaned into the window. Neil grinned at the want burning in his lover’s eyes. Andrew looked close to kissing him right here and then. Instead, he pushed Neil’s face away.

“Don’t leave me behind next time, asshole.”

Neil couldn’t stop smiling. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Milo moved out of the Camaro to come by the two of them. “Well, Dad, I won. How does it feel to come in second place?”

“Sassy little shit.” Neil muttered.

Milo put a hand around his ear. “Sorry? I didn’t hear that. I think I’d have to stoop to your level to communicate.”

“You only won because your car is new.”

Milo smirked, as if waiting for Neil to say just that. He tossed his keys onto his lap.

“You’re about to eat those words.” Milo said.

Neil snatched them up, getting out of the Maserati and pulling Andrew alongside him into the Camaro. When both of them were situated, they stared the other down.

“Ready to be bested again?” Milo taunted.

“Focus on the road.” Neil replied. And then they were off.

They raced a total of 10 times. 6 - 4 Milo’s favor. Milo proceeded to race Andrew three more times afterward, getting his ass handed to him each time. He was incapable of matching Andrew’s reckless energy.

The end

#aftg #all for the game #art #doodles #fanart #neil josten #andrew minyard #oc #oc art #milo josten #miloverse #all for milo #andreil

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thatchickwiththecamera · 19 days

Text

Ghost | Noah Sebastian One Shot

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Y/N had always loved playing video games. She got settled into her gaming chair and readjusted the round glasses perched on her nose before tossed her hair up into a messy bun. She opened Steam on her computer and got the game she downloaded ready.

Her room was organized chaos. Her bed was unmade in the background in front of walls lined with framed vinyls of her favorite bands and a ‘Bad Omens’ flag covered her window as a makeshift curtain.

An empty Starbucks cup sat next to her Stanley water bottle on her desk from her writing session that morning.

She was an author by trade, with one of her more recent books sneaking its way onto the New York Times Best Sellers list. So streaming gave her an outlet to connect with fans of the book who were eagerly waiting to see what she published next. But she also enjoyed the thrill of gaming.

So every Wednesday and Friday night, she’d set up her Twitch stream, ready to chat with her followers while she worked on her newest story on her computer or let them watch as she tried to conquer a new game.

Tonight was Friday night, which meant Game Night! She adjusted her headset and looked into the camera with a grin.

"Hey, guys! Welcome back! Since we finished Hollow Souls in the last game night stream, we’re starting a new one requested in the Patreon called Nervous System. I downloaded it earlier today and I can’t wait to get started. So, grab your snacks and get comfy!”

As the game loaded, Y/N glanced at the chat window. The usual usernames flashed by, but one stood out: TwitchGhost.

“Hey, Ghost! Is this one of the games you’ve played or is this a new one?” She asked, her tone playful.

TwitchGhost: This one is new to me.

Ghost had popped up in one of her streams a few months ago when she was playing through the new Call of Duty storyline and had since become a regular viewer. She began to look forward to his comments almost as much as she looked forward to playing.

Week after week her chat box was filled with Ghost’s banter and witty interactions with her and her other followers. He even started to watch her regular streams where she would chat with fans and answer questions while working on the draft of her next book.

As the game loaded and the eerie music of Nervous System filled the room, Y/N noticed Ghost’s usual cheeky messages lighting up the chat.

TwitchGhost: I’m ready for some jumpscares!

Y/N chuckled and adjusted her headset. “Yeah, I heard this game is supposed to be pretty intense. I’m excited to see how we’ll do.”

She clicked to start a new game, and the screen transitioned to a dimly lit hallway with flickering lights. The graphics were stunningly detailed, adding an extra layer of immersion. Y/N began exploring, moving through the unsettling environment and commenting on the game’s eerie atmosphere.

The chat was buzzing with excitement as the game’s tension built. Her followers were actively engaging, offering their own tips and sharing their favorite horror games. Ghost’s messages stood out, though. His comments were always well-timed, blending humor with insightful observations about the game.

TwitchGhost: I love how the game is making the mundane so creepy. The lights and music are driving me insane.

Y/N grinned, glancing over at the chat. “I know, right? It’s amazing how a simple light can make everything feel so unsettling. You’re going to help me out if I get stuck, right?”

TwitchGhost: Absolutely! I’ve got your back. Just don’t let the creepy noises get to you.

The game took a sudden turn as a loud crash echoed through the virtual hallway, making Y/N jump slightly.

“Fucking Hell!” She yelled.

She laughed nervously and played along with the chat’s reactions.

“I’m definitely going to need that backup. This game is already getting under my skin.”

TwitchGhost: If you need someone to hold your hand during the scary parts, I’m only a message away.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her grin widening.

“Oh, is that so? I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

The chat exploded with playful and teasing comments from other viewers reacting to their playful flirting. Y/N continued navigating through the game, her focus occasionally shifting to Ghost’s messages.

As she progressed through the game, Y/N found herself getting more engrossed at one point in the gameplay, her tongue peaking out of the side of her mouth in concentration.

A short but loud alarm suddenly sounded causing her to jump and clutch at her chest.

A message stating TwitchGhost played KEM Alarm for 0 bits popped up on the screen.

It was one of the sound bits that she had added to the list when she was still playing COD and had never gotten around to removing it.

“Fuck you Ghost!” She yelled after pausing the game to calm her racing heartbeat.

TwitchGhost: 👀😏😈

“Behave.” She said, shaking her head with a smile.

TwitchGhost: JK. 😉

TwitchGhost: You are doing pretty well with the jumpscares though. They’re my least favorite part of these games.

Y/N’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. She replied with a playful tone, “Well, thank you! I’d say you’re pretty good at keeping the chat entertained too. Maybe we make a pretty good team?”

TwitchGhost: I like the sound of that. Maybe we should test that theory sometime—on or off stream.

With that the chat went wild with one user even commenting, “I ship it!”

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the suggestion and her smile grew wider as she continued to play the game.

She took a deep breath and responded, “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you? I’ll have to consider it. For now, I need to survive this game.”

Just as they were about to uncover a major plot twist in the game, Ghost dropped a message that stood out from his usual playful banter.

TwitchGhost: Have you ever thought about adding a horror element to one of your books? You seem to handle the scares pretty well!

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as she read the message. She paused the game and looked directly into the camera.

“You know, I haven’t really thought about that. But that’s a really good idea. Maybe mixing some horror elements into a future story could be really interesting. Thanks for the suggestion!”

The chat exploded with excitement, many viewers expressing their enthusiasm for the idea. Y/N smiled, feeling inspired by the unexpected suggestion. She turned her attention back to the game, ready to dive into the next part of the story with renewed energy.

TwitchGhost: Anytime. Looking forward to reading it.

Another notication popped up - TwitchGhost sent you a friend request

She paused for a moment before eventually hitting the accept button.

Suddenly a direct message box opened.

TwitchGhost: Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to help you brainstorm over a cup of coffee sometime?

Y/N’s heart raced at the thought. She gave a teasing smile to the camera before typing:

Y/NUserName: Maybe.

The rest of the stream flew by in a blur with Y/N accomplishing the first five objective missions before deciding to call it a night. The stream had left her both exhilarated and exhausted. She closed the game and thanked her viewers for joining her.

“Thanks so much for hanging out tonight! You guys made this game night unforgettable. And Ghost, your suggestion about incorporating horror into my writing might just spark my next big idea. I’ll keep you posted on how it goes!”

She glanced at the chat one last time and saw Ghost’s final message.

TwitchGhost: Looking forward to it. Until next time.

With a contented sigh, Y/N closed her laptop and started to tidy up her desk.

A few weeks passed and Ghost had been noticeably absent from the chat.

Another Wednesday had rolled around and Y/N had finished up a full day of meetings with her management and publisher about the press tour for her next book, Michael. It was the first in her new Fallen Angels series and was due to be released at the end of the summer.

It was completely different from her first book, Ace of Spades. Michael, was titled after the Archangel Michael and was more fantasy based while Ace of Spades was a gritty underground crime romance novel.

She logged into twitch and the “Stream Starting Soon” graphic appears on the screen going live to her followers. She pulls up her manuscript for the new book she was starting, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the screen. Depending on how busy the chat was tonight she had planned on working on it. When she was ready she switched to the live view.

“Hey, everyone! Welcome back to the stream. Tonight, we’re swapping out the gaming for some writing and a little Q and A session. I’m diving into outlining a new story and also wanted to let you know a little more about my next release and the series it will be a part of.” She stated.

The chat blew up with excitement and questions about the new series.

“Okay, the next book is titled Michael and it will be the first in a seven book series called The Fallen Angel series. It will be a fantasy series of sorts and each of the books will be named after one of the seven archangels.” She excitedly answered. “I just finalized plans for the release with my team today and I am happy to announce that it is due to come out at the end of August.”

She watched as a steady stream of happy and excited replies popped into the chat box on the edge of the screen at the news.

She let the users chat with each other about the announcement for a bit and started working on the outline of her next story Nightmares. Which popped into her head not long after the stream where Ghost suggested she incorporate horror into one of her books.

She glanced over to take a peek at the chat and noticed someone had used 500 channel points to highlight their message.

“Oh, that's a good question. Trickster24 asked what was my inspiration for Carter in Ace of Spades was.” She said, before adjusting her headset and looking directly into the camera.

“So, Carter was inspired by a mix of classic noir heroes and a bit of real-life charm. I took some cues from those figures you would see in old detective films. But there’s also a touch of some famous personas in there as well in an overall aesthetic sense. It really helped shape Carter into a more nuanced character.”

The chat continued to buzz with interest with viewers dropping comments about who they pictured as Carter when they read the book.

GoldenGoddess45: Who did you envision as Carter when you were writing the book?

“So…when writing Ace of Spades, I honestly envisioned Carter as someone who looks similar to the lead vocalist of one of my favorite rock bands called Bad Omens.” She began, “If you guys aren’t familiar with them you should definitely check them out.”

The chat fills with more questions, but her attention is drawn to a familiar username.

TwitchGhost: Carter sounds like someone I’d love to have a coffee with. How about you? Do you think Carter would enjoy a coffee date?

The comment makes her laugh.

“Welcome back Ghost! I’ve missed seeing your name in the chat,” She started, “I could definitely see Carter frequenting a little dimly lit cafe. And knowing him, he’d definitely be the type to keep the conversation interesting. What about you, Ghost? Are you as mysterious as Carter?”

TwitchGhost: I like to think I have a few secrets up my sleeve. 😉

She grins at the response and how the chat proceeded to blow up at the continuation of their flirty banter. She almost struggles to keep up with the steady stream of questions and responses flowing into the chat.

After a while one pops up about the outline for the new story that she mentioned.

“Oh yeah, I’ll give you guys a little hint about what I’m working on. I got some inspiration from one of Ghost’s comments actually during a previous stream. I’m not going to announce the title just yet, but I will say it will be more of a horror based dark romance story compared to my other works. I'm in the very early outlining stages though so I am looking forward to seeing where it goes.”

TwitchGhost: Glad you liked the idea! I’ll be first in line to read it. 😉

Y/N felt a flutter of excitement at Ghost’s message, a sense of anticipation hanging in the air. She glanced at the clock. Her stream had been going for close to two hours, and she still had a lot of work to do on her outline.

“Alright, everyone, I think we’re going to start wrapping things up soon. But before we go, I want to thank you all for your awesome questions. I love how engaged and creative this community is. It really makes this whole process so much fun!”

The chat exploded with thank-yous and goodbyes as her viewers began to sign off. She glanced back at Ghost’s messages, his usual witty banter making her smile.

A new direct message pops up.

TwitchGhost: Sorry for missing so many streams. I hope you’ve been keeping things interesting without me. 😉

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at the message. She typed back, trying to match his flirtatious tone.

Y/NUserName: Oh, you know I always keep things lively. But it’s been a bit dull without your witty comments. How have you been?

TwitchGhost: Busy, had to travel for work and time zones got in the way of tuning in. You’ve been on my mind more than I’d like to admit. 😏

She felt a rush of warmth at his words.

Y/NUserName: Well, aren’t you a charmer? I’ve missed our little banter. It definitely adds a spark to the stream.

TwitchGhost: Just doing my part to keep things exciting. Speaking of which, I’ve been dying to know—how’s the new book coming along?

Y/N’s smile widened, feeling a thrill at his compliment.

Y/NUserName: The new book is shaping up nicely, thanks for asking. I might even incorporate a bit of the intrigue you bring to our chats into it.

TwitchGhost: I’m flattered. Can’t wait to see how you bring a touch of me into your work. Maybe you’ll make a character who’s just as irresistible as you. 😉

Y/N’s cheeks flushed at his flirty remark.

Y/NUserName: Well, if I do, I’ll have to make sure they have your charm. I think that’s a winning formula.

TwitchGhost: I’m all for it. And who knows? Maybe your characters will end up stealing more than just my heart.

Y/N’s heart raced at his bold comment.

Y/NUserName: You’re quite the tease, Ghost. I’ll have to keep that in mind while I’m writing. For now, though, I’m glad you’re back. It wouldn’t be the same without you.

TwitchGhost: Glad to be back. I’ve missed our little moments. I’ll try not to stay away too long next time. 😉

Y/N responded with a flirtatious grin.

Y/NUserName: I’ll hold you to that.

She leaned back in her chair and stretched, feeling a mix of relief and exhilaration. She turned off her computer and added a few ideas inspired by their playful exchange to her outline.

As she wrote, she couldn’t stop thinking about the chemistry she felt with Ghost. She had no clue who he was, but he had quickly become one of her favorite parts of streaming, and the thought of possibly meeting him one day was both thrilling and intriguing.

She quickly finished up her notes and decided to call it a night. As she settled into bed, her phone buzzed. She picked it up to find another message from Ghost.

TwitchGhost: Can’t wait to see where this story leads. Sweet dreams, Y/N. 😘

Y/N smiled and quickly typed back, her fingers dancing over the screen.

Y/NUserName: Goodnight, Ghost.

She set her phone down, turned off the bedside lamp, and snuggled under the covers. As she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts swirled with the possibilities that awaited both in her writing and her streaming.

A few weeks later, Y/N received an unexpected surprise. Bad Omens had announced their next tour and her manager, Andy, had secured a spot for them both on the guest list for the date in the city a couple hours from her hometown. She not only got to see her favorite band live, but she would get the chance to meet them after the show.

She excitedly announced the news to her followers on the next stream.

“Hey everyone!” Y/N’s excitement was palpable as she spoke into the camera. “I’ve got some super exciting news to share! I don’t know what my manager did, but I’m going to see Bad Omens next month! Not only that, but I’ll also get to meet them after the show. I’m over the freakin moon right now!”

The chat exploded with enthusiasm, her followers sharing in her excitement and asking if she would be able to get any exclusive behind-the-scenes content. Y/N promised to do her best to share the experience and make everyone feel like they were part of it.

As Y/N wrapped up her stream, she noticed a new direct message notification from Ghost. Her heart raced with anticipation as she opened it.

TwitchGhost: Bad Omens, huh? That’s incredible! I’m jealous. Have you ever met them before?

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, her excitement bubbling up again.

Y/NUserName: I’ve never met them before. This will be my first time! I’m so excited I can barely contain myself.

TwitchGhost: I bet you’re going to have an amazing time. I’m curious, though—what would you say to them if you had the chance?

Y/N’s fingers flew over the keyboard as she typed her reply, her thoughts racing with the possibility of meeting the band.

Y/NUserName: I’d probably gush about how much their music has meant to me. And if I were feeling brave, I might even mention that I have a crush on their lead singer. 😉

TwitchGhost: Haha, that’s a bold move! I’m sure they’d appreciate hearing how much their music means to you. That lead singer would be a lucky guy. 😉

Y/N felt a flush of warmth at Ghost’s words, her thoughts wandering to the idea of meeting the mysterious person behind the messages that had become such a cherished part of her life.

Y/NUserName: Well it probably wouldn’t work out anyway. I kinda already have someone else who’s been keeping me on my toes.

TwitchGhost: Oh? Celebrity crush has some competition then? Anyone I know? 😏

Y/N’s heart skipped a beat at his playful inquiry.

Y/NUserName: Maybe…

Y/NUserName: I need to get back to writing now. But I’ll let you know how everything goes.

TwitchGhost: Can’t wait to hear all about it. Good luck with the writing, and remember, if you need any more inspiration, you know where to find me. 😉

Y/NUserName: Thanks, Ghost. I’ll keep that in mind. Talk to you soon!

TwitchGhost: Goodnight, Y/N!

Y/N closed her laptop and set her phone aside, her mind buzzing with excitement about the upcoming concert and the prospect of meeting her favorite band.

As the next few weeks passed, Y/N eagerly counted down the days until the show. She had tried to busy herself with writing Nightmares and unfortunately had to deal with finalizing all of the not so fun logistics of her upcoming book release, but the thought of seeing her favorite band live kept her spirits high.

The night of the concert finally arrived and the excitement was palpable as Y/N and Andy arrived at the venue. They received their passes from the ticket window and were guided inside by a staff member. As they grabbed a spot at the barricade, Y/N was recognized by a few of the fans who were already inside as part of their VIP pass access. She spent the next hour chatting with a few of them about the band and telling them what she could about her new books.

The lights dimmed and the crowd's anticipation grew palpable as the guitarist, Jolly, walked on stage and the opening notes of Artificial Suicide began to reverberate through the venue. Y/N’s excitement was almost tangible, her eyes glued to the stage as the band’s electrifying performance unfolded. Her and Andy both sang along to each and every verse at the top of their lungs. The music was everything she had hoped for and more.

As the last few notes of Dethrone echoed across the room an hour and a half later and the final bows were completed, they let the crowd disperse a little before they navigated their way to the side of the barricade. They showed their passes to Ash, the band’s head of security, before he allowed them backstage with a friendly smile.

The adrenaline from the concert was still coursing through Y/N’s veins as they eventually met with the band’s tour manager, Matt, who introduced himself.

“The guys are cooling off and getting changed really quick. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you ladies outside to where they’ll be hanging out while we tear down and finish up loadout.” He said leading them to a makeshift sitting area the band had put together outside their bus earlier in the day.

After a few minutes the band members slowly but surely made their way outside, each introducing themself as they found a seat and fell into easy conversation with the two of them.

The lead singer, Noah, was the last to emerge. He wore an oversized merch hoodie, a pair of joggers, and slides. Despite being comfortably dressed, his striking presence was undeniable.

“Hi, I’m Y/N?” She introduced herself, holding out her hand.

Noah’s smile broadened as he stepped closer and took her hand in his.

“Oh, he knows who you are…” Jolly teased from where he sat at one of the picnic tables.

She turned to look at him before looking back at Noah with a confused look.

The tall man chuckled in response, before rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Eh, well, I had to make sure my favorite author enjoyed seeing her favorite band. And, I couldn’t miss the chance to meet the person behind the screen. I mean I am still holding out hope for that coffee date…”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she took in his presence, a mix of shock and delight washing over her.

“You’re Ghost?!”

“Guilty as charged,” Noah said with a wink. “I guess I managed to keep my two worlds separate for a while. But I couldn't resist. I wanted to see you. actually, I’ve been wanting to for a while.”

Y/N felt her cheeks flush as she took in his words. “Well, you definitely pulled off an incredible surprise. I never would have guessed.”

Noah’s gaze softened as he took a step closer. “I wanted to see if you’d react the way you just did. And I’m glad I did.”

They continued to chat, and Y/N found herself falling deeper into conversation with Noah. It felt surprisingly natural, almost like she had known him for a while. They talked about music, books, and even the quirky things that had happened during her streams.

As their conversation flowed effortlessly, Y/N noticed how Noah’s eyes seemed to sparkle with genuine interest. It was as if he was completely absorbed in the discussion, and she felt a magnetic connection.

Eventually, the band’s crew finished loading out and a few of them started to talk about wanting to go out before the bus call at 2am.

“Hey, do you have any plans after this?”

Y/N shook her head.

“Not really. Why?”

Noah’s smile widened.

“Well, if you’re up for it, I’d love to maybe take you out for that coffee. There’s a café nearby that’s open late.”

Y/N’s heart raced. She glanced around and Andy gave her a knowing look, mouthing “GO!”.

Her eyes met Noah’s, and she could see the sincerity in his expression.

“I’d like that,” she replied softly.

They walked together to the café, and as they settled into a corner table, the conversation continued seamlessly. They talked about everything from their childhood memories to their dreams and even their fears. The more they talked, the more Y/N felt an undeniable connection.

As the night wore on, Noah’s gaze lingered on Y/N with an intensity that made her heart flutter. Their laughter and shared stories created an intimate atmosphere.

On the walk back to the venue, Noah paused and reached out, taking Y/N’s hand gently into his.

“I have to admit, I’ve really enjoyed spending time with you tonight.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She looked into Noah’s eyes, her feelings mirrored in his gaze.

“I feel the same way.”

“I’d really like to keep getting to know you and see where all this goes, if that's okay with you?” He questioned, stepping closer.

“I’d like that.” She answered, glancing up at him.

He smiled down at her, his eyes briefly drifting toward her lips and back.

Slowly, Noah stepped even closer and he cupped Y/N’s face in his hand, his touch sending a warm shiver through her.

He leaned forward and their lips met in an electrifying kiss. It was gentle at first, but as the moment deepened, their kiss became more passionate. The connection they felt was palpable, and it seemed to solidify everything they had shared that night.

When they finally pulled away, their faces were flushed, and they both wore wide, contented smiles.

“I’m really glad you came tonight,” Noah said softly, his thumb brushing lightly over Y/N’s hand.

“Me too,” Y/N replied, her heart full. “This has been one of the best nights of my life.”

As they walked side by side, Y/N couldn’t help but think about how surreal and wonderful this evening had been. Not only had she met her favorite band, but she had also found her Ghost.

With an exchange of phone numbers and the promise of staying in touch they went their separate ways. But not before Noah leaned in for one last, lingering kiss, making Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

The night had turned into something extraordinary. An unexpected but perfect blend of their separate worlds colliding into something beautiful.

#author: thatchickwiththecamera #noah sebastian #bad omens #bad omens cult #badomens #badomenscult #noah bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fan fiction #noah sebastian one shot

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sunboki · 9 months

Text

⎯ CHRISTMAS BLUES a Hwang Hyunjin fiction

🎄 : Hwang Hyunjin x implied! fem. reader

TROPE. enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, reader is a writer, one bed au, forced proximity au, hyunjin is an artist(not mentioned a ton), coincidences

WORD COUNT. 7.3k words ☆ 40 minute read

WARNINGS. cursing, angst galore, mention of sex (non desc.), breakup, hurt feelings, making up, mentions of getting drunk

AUG'S NOTES. this is a stupidly lovestruck hallmark christmas mindset talking, whatever you read below is definitely not me… definitely. anyway, happy holidays to everyone that celebrates! this has been sitting in my drafts for months now, initially planned to be a smau, then a fic!! hope this fic exceeds your expectations, feel free to leave a reblog or comment of your thoughts!

PLAYLIST.

SYNOPSIS. You thought getting a call from Hyunjin was the last thing you needed during the holidays, but when he reminds you of your non-refundable tickets to Paris you had booked seven months prior to your earth-shattering breakup, you realize that his call was the least of your problems.

or alternatively :

Just a week over Christmas with your ex in Paris, what could go wrong?

Every circumstance has a question that goes along with it.

How did I get so lucky? Why did you leave?

As for yours, it’s fairly simple.

Where did we go wrong?

December 18th – Seoul, South Korea.

Holding onto what could’ve been is stupid, you agreed upon that mindset a long time ago. However, the past, Him being the past, lingered around you like the scent of citrus still clinging beneath your fingernails even after washing your hands. Everywhere. He was everywhere. And no matter how hard you tried to erase the memories of what was, they served their memory purpose and disfigured your mind all the same.

And so, you replaced it.

Replaced the hurt, the searing burn, with someone else. Who turned into someone else, and someone else after that till the only thing sufficing any weekly relationship was a no-strings attached notion.

Until you met Seungmin.

He was your vice, the person dragging you out of your self-made hole of false sanctuary and safety. He laid all his flaws on the table, showed himself to you. Seungmin was gentle and kind, he was patient— more patient than anyone else in this world— and loving. Oh so loving.

But behind your undying affection for your boyfriend, he saw something you didn’t. Perhaps in your eyes, perhaps in your soul, bared to him on an onslaught of occasions.

Longing.

He saw longing in your treasured hues, longing for someone that wasn’t him.

Because some scars take longer to fade away, but yours hadn’t even begun to heal. Masked with his many layers of band-aids only to never staunch the cut, the one Hwang Hyunjin left on you.

“Seungmin I’m so sorry—“

“You love him, I know,” He nods his head, a sad, soft smile holding place on his lips.

Tonight was the night he officially talked about it. The unforgivable thought continuing to incessantly plague his mind.

Although, he didn’t regard you sourly for it. That connection you had with Hyunjin was something no other person could return nor deliver, and he had to accept that if he really loved you.

If Seungmin really loved you, he wanted the best for you, even if that meant the best were when you weren’t with him.

You were shocked when he brought up the matter, asked if you really missed him, asked if you still loved him. Yes, you had of course discussed your previous relationship, but never to this extent, never so blatantly.

Though the absolute kindness in both his tone and the way he looked at you, seated at the dinner table, kept you from lying.

It’s not fair. Not fair for Seungmin, your boyfriend, to have to take responsibility for your tormented feelings. But here he is, assuring you nevertheless.

Because he’s known. He knew from the start you weren’t over Hyunjin. Knew that, despite so much ache and anguish he caused, your heart can’t help but beat at his pace, fruitlessly connected.

And he knew in the end things would fall apart just like this, and his spot as a placeholder would fall apart along with it.

That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt though.

“He hurt you, but you love Hwang Hyunjin, I know.” He whispers, fingers tightly twined beneath the table. There’s a sort of hiccuping sound bubbling up from your throat. You stave it down.

“I’m sorry.”

He smiles, smiles when you don’t deny it, reaching forward for your trembling hands to take in his own.

“I want you to be happy, Y/N. I’m not the one you’ll be happy with though.”

A soft squeeze before he rises and curves to where you sit, free-flowing tears threatening to cascade past glossy eyes.

Without hesitation you wrap your arms around him in a hug, chest wracking with unfiltered sobs. Guilty. Guilt is devouring your soul. You don’t deserve Seungmin, nor does he deserve to be hurt so cruelly by someone he loves. But here you are, ruining him.

He’d never admit it, but the pain in his eyes—the ones you’ve stared at countless times—will always remain evident. No amount of smiling or laughing can hide that.

Pulling back while your arms stayed hooked upon his shoulders, you savor the kiss he places on your lips, the ones he delicately pressed to each of your wrists.

Sad. It’s a sad kiss. A kiss that causes your entire body to wilt against him, crashing deeper and deeper into his warmth, his comfort. He’s not false, he’s real. A real, unadulterated love you’re undeserving of.

Guilty.

“If you’re happy,” He breathes, leaning in to land gentle pecks all over your face, forehead connecting with your own. “I’ll be okay.”

December 20th – Seoul, South Korea.

Your room is still exactly as it has been. Pillows faced the same way, sheets still tousled and hanging halfway off the bed. Hell, he hasn’t even touched the blinds — staying open throughout countless nights, your perfume lingering.

Like he was afraid his touch would break apart what he had left of you.

He hopes, swallowing down the remainder of wine in his glass, you’ll be able to look back and laugh at what used to be, find the matter childish and ridiculous.

What you used to be.

Lovers.

Not kids anymore, you taught him once before. You also taught him how deep a love could be. There’d always be a space for you here, just as you left it. Although, he doubts you’d come back. In fact, you’ve probably moved on with your life. Found someone else to fill the space he did.

But maybe, if he keeps the room as it was for long enough, your room; if Hyunjin keeps those tiny paper notes you wrote for him long enough, you would come back.

What a lie.

Wishful thinking takes you far then drops you into festering despair over and over, he’s learned this the hard way.

Starting with a text.

He blinked once, then twice, then three times—picking apart his brain in order to recollect anything, any details whatsoever that could decipher this random message on a Monday morning.

Paris.

Paris?

Paris.

It hits him, evidently.

Immediately clutching his head and simultaneously slapping an aghast hand over his mouth, a sensation recognizable as utmost horror obliterates his soul into pieces, quite literally rocking his world.

Months ago, he remembered.

You’d been stupid, you’d been drunk, and impulsively booked the tickets, laughing off the “no refunds” reminder as if nothing would’ve ever happened.

It did though. And now he’s dealing with the karma in return for that idiotic decision. Soon enough you both will.

Non refundable tickets to Paris, two days from now, together.

What were the chances?

Blindly tapping his password into his phone, he (just as blindly) jams his finger to the first caller he sees, who turns out to be Minho, seeming like both a blessing and a curse in unison.

Never before had Hyunjin so clearly lost his mind and control of his words, but there’s always a first time for everything, right?

“Minho, what the hell am I supposed to do? She hates me and the flight is booked two days from now. This is just.. Fuck!” Hyunjin pours, slamming his hands against the steering wheel, burying his head into the leather as if that would magically make his endless desperation disappear.

He didn’t usually curse, so when he did, whatever had happened was serious. He carried his words elegantly, proficiently.

He'd be the last picked candidate for elegance right about now.

“If I were Chan I would’ve said you should still try talking to her about it, but in my opinion that wouldn’t change a thing. So suck it up Hwang, it can’t be that bad.”

Ah. Remind me why I ever decided to call you hoping for advice.

‘Hwang’ was the name his friend had reserved for him, coming from a long line of tissues in the mouth and other ways Minho would pick fun at the blonde. But he was at least trying to help, somewhat.

How he got himself into this situation is honestly laughable, situation being your nasty breakup and a plane to Paris.

Great. Paris is great, right? Wrong.

Because this stupid, stupid trip to Paris isn’t one he’s going on alone to enjoy the sights and delicacies there, it’s one with you, the girl who ripped his heart in half two months ago. The trip you’d planned while you were still head-over-heels, not hating his guts.

Oh, and your tickets were nonrefundable. Couldn’t forget about that part.

“.. What am I gonna do?”

“Suck it up, duh.”

“And please enlighten me on how the hell I'm supposed to ‘suck it up’ in a plane seat right next to her for thirteen hours and spend every day glued to the hip, your honor.”

The mental picture of Minho’s fraud-innocent face through the line grated his nerves like nothing else. Brows lifted, mouth slightly open. He wanted to punch that imaginary face so badly right now.

"Then follow Chan’s tutorial on making it up to your now-ex. You asked me for my opinion, and you got it. Look, all I’m saying is this is a good chance to get some level ground between you two, even if you still fly back hating each other—"

“I don’t hate her,” Hyunjin quickly quips.

Honestly, truthfully, he doesn’t hate you, he can’t hate you and he doubts he ever will. You were the one responsible for years upon years of the best moments of his life, how could he hate you for that?

Although, by the way you looked at him that night, he doubts your response would be the same.

Minho sighs.

"Even better, you could fly back with her hating you slightly less."

For once the snarky man he was spilling his problems to had provided decent reason, it was terrifying.

From a spectators point of view, his utter fit had to be quite a sight. For the record, witnessing thee calm and collected Hwang Hyunjin go insane in his car wasn’t a sight you’d see on a regular day.

But today wasn’t a regular day. Instead, it was the day he found himself trapped in a loophole of love and war with his ex.

What were the chances?

There’s no book that could wholly describe Hyunjin.

Even as a writer yourself, not even Shakespeare could depict him to the full extent. He’s flawless but so flawed, kind and yet malicious in terms of his brilliantly unfair beauty.

Every day you run into Hwang Hyunjin. The first few times, you called it coincidence, told yourself his meeting happened to be at the same time, maybe he was headed to a neighboring coffee shop.

Well, before those few days turned into every day on your commute.

And when a breakup is as nasty as yours was, it’s not too refreshing constantly seeing your ex on the daily afterward.

Today, Hwang Hyunjin is wearing a tan trench coat that reaches down to his knees. He’s wearing the same tennis shoes as always (except his usual camera is absent from the picture), and his hair is pulled up, soft, sandy strands framing either side of his face. He stands on the other side of the crosswalk, occupied with his phone while you internally ridicule him.

Staring daggers into his frame, the frigidly cold beverage in hand doesn’t aid in warming up chilling temperatures burning your fingertips, signs of winter’s impending approach.

He looks up.

You avert your gaze to your shoes. You can feel his eyes on you; feel them traveling over your body, then to your face, boring into your skull. He’s waiting, watching.

And somehow, you know you’ll eventually have to make eye contact. Because on your normal route, your turn left on Harrison street, then right on Fords. He’s there. Unbelievably, wildly, he’s there.

It’s the one factor in your (almost) perfect life without him that makes things hell.

Back then, you were like clockwork. Not a minute going by without someone being awake. You taking a nap after spending two hours searching synonyms on Thesaurus, Hyunjin just waking up, heading out with his signature Canon camera loosely hung around his neck.

Two perfect oppositions leaving their cluttered love scattered all over a cheap apartment.

For Hyunjin, it was the mug you’d gotten him last christmas labeled in bold font: “ART WHORE”, while yours was an equally degrading “SHE WOULD RATHER FUCK THE MEN IN HER BOOKS” sticker print slapped on the back of your laptop.

Little did you know you’d be desperately scraping the sticker off seven months later, that you’d leave your chapter unfinished since breaking up and that he had likely thrown away that mug.

Or maybe not. Maybe he painted over it, scribbled it out and somehow made it look good. Hyunjin has a way of making anything catastrophic look pretty.

You, on the other hand, are an erupting volcano. One that cries its lava onto the earth and doesn’t leave a pretty photograph. One that froths and rumbles, and destroys things as it goes.

Perfect opposites, exactly.

Now for the real question, the monumental “where did we go wrong” part that served as an explanation.

Three little words.

I love you.

You lied.

Those are big words, big words for somebody. Big words for yourself, words you spoke to Hwang Hyunjin, looped in his apartment, making love on the couch.

Big words he didn’t return.

Big words that kept your heart stilled in your chest, left your lips blue, drowned as you collected your discarded clothes off the floor.

And you left.

You didn’t need the awkward silence, the “let me think about it”, the bullshit they spouted Kissing-Booth-style. You needed him, his reassurance when you were your most vulnerable. His three words that told you your three years together weren’t one sided, not wordlessly confessed through actions though too scared to say aloud – a feared incantation.

Words he never said. Because you did love Hwang Hyunjin, so much it consumed you into his favorite muse, him your inspiration. Then came the doubt. The recollection of your favorite, dearest moments. Was it all a lie?

Those hour-long seconds, tangled on his sofa, kept that incessant anxiety alive.

You thought you found the one when your drunk night didn’t turn into an orgasm you can’t remember, but rather being coaxed into a warm shower despite your complaining about your pants being too tight.

Somehow, you can still feel his tender kisses like a ghost of a presence, littering the skin of your shoulder instead of the sloppy alcohol ridden ones you’d known before, and for once you had woken up beside the person responsible — not to a note saying they had to leave early.

He was the one responsible for teaching you how to paint, propping you in his lap, hand guiding your own while tracing careful strokes on the canvas. It was hardly possible sitting on his stool together, though neither of you noticed (nor cared), too busy savoring the intimacy of the moment.

That was Hyunjin. He was the glass of water placed in front of you after one too many at happy hour. He was the relaxing bath when everything hurt, the shoulder to cry on.

But you were mistaken. He wasn’t the one. Seungmin was the one, the one you had left behind only to chase after a toxic remedy.

In fact, Hyunjin never was the one.

And it fucking hurt remembering that.

December 21st - 22nd – Seoul, South Korea.

The last news you’d anticipated slammed into you like a bus.

Cozied up at your desk, a number pops up on your screen, interrupting the one moment of silence you managed to enjoy. Most people didn’t call during your work hours, except Seungmin, who, for the record, called before work.

The number you’d memorized by heart was not normal either.

Him.

“Before you curse at me,” He begins, and your hand hesitantly hovers over the call button, jaw clenched beyond reason, silence shouting loud. No strength in your bones allowed you to reply. Was it fear, hatred? Both most likely.

Taking the time to continue, his silky tone lulls along the line.

“Do you remember the tickets?”

Hatred seemed the dominant factor.

“What are you talking about?” You rhetorically snap, obviously annoyed albeit confused.

Tickets? It’s been three months, why the hell are tickets the first thing he’s mentioning?

He sighs. “The tickets to Paris. You remember, don't you?”

It takes you a moment, then, aha.

How could you forget? The tip of the iceberg of what two naive, lovestruck idiots thought would be forever. Little did they know everything would slip past their fingertips.

”Well um, did you know they’re non-refundable?”

Huh.

“WHAT?!”

You’d just managed to convince yourself free of Hyunjin, but he simply dragged you further into his labyrinth.

Or so you thought.

You had grown since he broke you (with the help of your better-ex, Seungmin). You evolved better (or so you told yourself). So out of the plentiful lessons you’d learned during your reflection, the factor that stuck with you most was that nobody is there to pick up for you. No matter how much you think they will.

You swore yourself into the belief Hyunjin would mend you, but you lived blind to the truth that he was just as broken as you were, a dog chasing its tail.

And so, you dealt with it.

In ways.

Whether that was incessantly talking to yourself, fanatically checking the date, contacting Felix on the verge of tears for him to laugh and then attempt at consoling your doom, or googling the best ways to run away from your predicament, fate had it out for you.

A disgustingly impertinent, unfairly fair fate.

Packing wasn’t all too stressful, unless you count trying on an entire entourage of outfits descending from dinner to snow-attire, then focusing on simple.

And it really shouldn’t have been so awful getting into your car, nonetheless waking up to realize today was the dreaded day, but it was, and you seriously deserved an award for the amount of times you checked your clock.

Although, you at least expected to have a little bit of time before having to face him again. Talking and interacting, not just drilling holes into his head. Little bit of time as in, a few years at least.

You were wrong.

Not the first time that’s happened.

“Hi Hyunjin.”

Answering his awaiting call with unsteady pitch, your eyes immediately gravitate to the blond-haired man. Taller in stature, leaning against a nearby pillar by your gate, staring directly at you.

Never had it felt so terrifying.

“Hey.”

You hesitate, never breaking eye contact with the man you’re speaking to a few meters away.

“Are we…Are we doing this again?”

He’s solemn. He’s not the same. Different.

“I don’t know. You decide for me.”

Never for a second does your gaze stray to his lips that barely move as he utters the line. Not the same either.

Before, you’d always been mesmerized by his lips. Then he’d notice and tease you prior to delivering the long-awaited kiss, again and again till you were breathless and your head became dizzy.

But this wasn't before; this is now, filled with grudges and sourness.

“You know I can’t make big decisions.”

That isn’t him. Isn’t the Hyunjin who would always provide endless tips and support, opinions unable to be held back without duct tape.

“Because you don’t want to get hurt knowing we chose this?” He whispers, and you tug your bottom lip between your teeth hard enough to bleed.

“Because I want better for us.”

“Y/n,” He sadly laughs, and your name rolling off his tongue sends an ache clawing your chest. It’s humorless, bitter in his throat.

“There is no us, only you and me, remember? So who do you want better for?”

There’s no twinkle in his eyes or his charming smile, it’s dry and painful, like he’d been crying.

You don’t want to think about that.

“Tell me something, okay?” Holding your phone to your ear with an iron grip, you slowly inhale through your nose, sparing a fleeting glance to the floor.

“Anything.”

“If I cry, will you hug me?”

“Do you want that?”

Question after question. He reaches in further, ripping out pieces of your soul with each inquiry. Stupid, sure. But genuine, all the way from the shrouded depths of your mind did you ask.

Of course you want that, want what’s so bad for you. No strength can make you admit it.

He knows the answer.

You hang up the call, fiddling around with your suitcase prior to wheeling the blundering thing over and ensuring you find a comfy spot out of Hyunjin’s sight.

Only five minutes of talking and you already feel as if your body is splintering into little pieces he’ll arrange into the perfect puzzle, ideal and pleasing.

He won’t. Not anymore he won’t.

And in that stead you’ll remain shattered.

What a shame.

Now boarding Group Five. All passengers in Group Five are welcome to board.

The hailing announcement earns a muffled groan through your mask, begrudgingly rising to your feet while directing your attention solely upon the bridge and your tightly held boarding pass. Luckily, Incheon International Airport isn’t half as hectic as you anticipated, but you have a gnawing feeling Paris will have a lot more to say.

Truth be told, you thank every lesson on task focus you once deemed useless as you shuffle among Paris-goers to find your seat.

One that obviously had to be right by Hwang Hyunjin.

“How’s you and Seungmin?” He fixes the length of his headphones, sparing a quick look at you while speaking. You despise how easy he treats this, how easy he’s treating everything at the moment.

Unfortunately, booking this hell-on-earth back when either of you were in your demented fantasy-land meant sitting beside each other also, in assigned seats.

Cupid really needs to give up by now.

You grunt beside him, uttering a hushed, “We broke up.”

Tilting his head, Hyunjin presses his face closer, craning. Close enough that you hold your phone up as a barrier, shrinking away nearer to the window.

“…Who broke up with who?”

Asshole.

Sighing boisterously, you shove in your own earbuds, rolling your eyes. Hyunjin, cocking a brow, dejectedly slouched back. Although he doesn’t ask any more questions, and you successfully get through your first three hours in silence.

Well, prior to the flight attendant strolling by with her cart, mandatorily beckoning orders from each row.

Wheeling her cart over where your seats are, Hyunjin takes a ginger ale and the customary pretzels they hand out. So when she gets to you and you order a Sprite, the man to your right’s head snaps to you, giving you quite an incredulous cock of his brow.

“No ginger ale?”

You wrinkle your nose.

“I don’t like it,” Biting back, you interrupt him upon accepting the canned soft drink, expression bitter and unwavering.

“You always got it when you were with me” or “Wasn’t it your favorite” was what you expected to come out of his mouth, positively obliterating any ounce of peace of mind remaining inside your rattling skull. You weren’t about to sit another seven hours sulking about something your ex said.

The ex you were very much over.

Right.

Your new goal? Avoid genuine conversation for as long as possible, at least on this flight.

So, given the chance to be deep in thought, you came to a conclusion.

You were clockwork, just like before. Except now instead of just equaling the time of day, he was the hour hand and you were the minute hand, always chasing after one another only to briefly touch and start all over again in an endless cycle of time.

Although the rockier the air gets and the more your grip squeezes the armrest does your initial goal falter, finding his considerate gesture asking if you were alright practically impossible to keep from responding to.

Especially when a huge drop has his hand racing atop yours, both too nervous to truly let go.

Just the circumstances, you blame, as if this plane was the sole cause of your slamming heartbeat.

Bullshit.

Four days and this trip was going to be one for the books for a multitude of reasons, that’s for sure.

Let’s just hope you can land first.

December 23nd – Paris, France.

His assuring hold on your hand guiding you through the bustling crowds of visitors and locals storming Charles de Gaulle Airport gives you this disgusting nostalgia, festering in your gut the longer you focus on his dark head of hair in front of you, kind, magnificent almond eyes flickering back to catch sight of you time and time again — like you’d magically sift from his grasp.

It’s a miracle you managed to hit ground in one piece, nevertheless end up with the notorious artist-jerkface named Hyunjin navigating you through an supremely overpopulated airport.

Perhaps it’s the scent of wispy pine or faint cigarette smoke that tinges the atmosphere such a rosy hue, perhaps everyone’s anticipation for the holiday’s. Either way, it certainly doesn’t help fuel your “absolutely NO touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda”.

Well, you had no doubt you’d have to stick to your morals on this trip in the first place, and it’s not like the odds were supposed to work in your favor. Although, a little assistance would‘ve been nice.

Guess you’ll just have to make due.

Lovely.

“Thank you!” You shout, forcing your voice to sound chipper speaking to the Cab Driver (opposing the twenty-two hours of traveling you managed to survive through). Except now, you didn’t know what to do nor what to say standing outside the hotel entrance, especially not when Hwang Hyunjin was going to be biting your ass for the next few days.

Much to your luck though, it seemed he was just as clueless as you, both prioritizing just checking into your room first and foremost.

Thankfully, the sights are a wondrous source of distraction, and you devise a plan to go walking more often than not (and not just to avoid Hyunjin). Each building appears as if it’d been expertly carved from stone, historically aged beige, awnings titled a bottomless array of Grand Seiko and Jaeger-LeCoultre.

To add, huge paneled windows are placed in each room, allowing a breathtaking view of the city as evening dawns. Whether it’s a quaint bakery hitched right below a bookstore or the bell tower seated comfortably in the middle of a square—you could never get bored.

Seems your interest tore you away from an unwelcomed reality until Hyunjin cleared his throat, thick eyebrows raised questionably.

“..We could go ice-skating?” He offers, index pointing to the huge rink a few blocks to the left.

You don’t have to speak for him to know your response, unzipping your suitcase to gather a new change of clothes without a word.

“Look, I know you want nothing to do with me, but I doubt either of us will ever have enough money to come to Paris again, so just, do it for the experience, not for me.”

That’s it.

“For you? You think I’m doing this for you? Are you really that conceited to think I’m still catering to you, Hyunjin? I’ve changed whether you like it or not, and I’m not the girl that’s willing anymore,” You toss your clothing to the side, giving him a downright venomous stare. Loathing. “I’m not yours anymore.”

“In fact,” Spitting poison, you stab your index to his chest, causing him to back up the more you advance forward. “You don’t know shit about me.”

He appears torn. His nose scrunches, and his lips form a squabbled line upon his face, evidently troubled.

Somehow, those actions that normally earned your sympathy only reared your deftly oiled gears more, angrily roaring without fail.

“Because if you did, we wouldn’t be like this.”

Gesturing around, you retreat back a few steps, arms slapping your sides irritably. Meanwhile, the tall man remains silent, attention magnetically directed down at his shoes. And for a swift moment, mere seconds, you feel sorry — apologetic even.

It makes you sick to your stomach.

You exhale. “I’ll go, and not for you. Understood?”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply, biting his cheek as he watches you disappear into another room.

You thank the refreshing scent of peppermint for its momentary relief upon entering the bathroom, practically drenching your face in ice cold water over and over as if it’d clear your head.

For you; you’re doing this for you, nobody else, you remind yourself, prepping a washcloth and your toiletries whilst praying the warm shower water eases your blaring jet-lag.

Yet, you didn’t expect a visitor to suddenly pop in while you were mid-shampoo, and it seemed he didn’t expect it either.

You swore the prolonged eye-contact went on for centuries, absolute terror embracing every aspect of your face through the clear shower door.

“Fuck! Get out!”

Scurrying like a character off a cartoon, Hyunjin manages – through spilling apologies – to blindly ram himself into the door, hands gripping his skull.

Suddenly, he pauses, hesitating.

“Wait but I’ve seen you naked befo–”

“GET OUT!” You scream.

“Okay! Okay.” He hurriedly slips out, leaving you to rethink every decision made with his name involved. A recurring thought at this point.

And with that, you quickly accept that your jet lag isn’t even close to gone and likely won’t be as long as the artist sharing your hotel room is within a six-foot radius.

Oh, and you don’t know shit about ice-skating.

Of course, Hyunjin is a natural on ice. He glides like a snow spirit, freer than ever. Meanwhile, your nails are embedded into your vice of a railing, knees shakily attempting at balancing with little success.

He’s the princess, and you’re the frog. It’s decided. Walking while you crawled, running while you walked. A step ahead that was at some point motivating, now plain humiliating.

The ice rink is jam-packed, citizens and tourists alike savoring the crisp winter, the faded twinkling of lights glittering in the distance.

“C’mon, just one?”

You, clawing the icy edge, confusedly avert your focus to where the voice came from.

It’s Hyunjin, gesturing to his camera while you piece together his request before childishly whining your despair. He lifts his toboggan upward, a few endearing tufts of golden peering out to hang over crescent moon eyes, evidently smiling.

Leave it to this man to test your sanity. How could anybody say no when he looked that cute.

“Fine, one.”

Not like I could run off anyway, you mentally consider, finding the fact your legs are quite literally flailing as a good enough sign to give in.

“Yes!” He chirped happily, hurriedly fiddling with his camera.

Watching him with that kind of expression, you witness your Hyunjin again, fumbling around, so excited about the smallest of things.

It hurts.

“I..” He trails off, voice barely audible whilst winking to see through the lense. “Don’t want to miss a moment of you.”

“What was that?”

The camera flashes, and you wonder if you heard him correctly.

“Oh nothing.” His lips curl into a sheepish grin, easing toward you and unexpectedly prying your hand into his own, involuntarily pulling you along.

Panickedly, you clutch onto any article of clothing available (another goodbye to your no-touchy-feely-ness Hyunjin agenda) similar to the handrails, squeezing your eyes shut while painfully awaiting a harsh slam against rock-hard ice.

A harsh slam that never happens.

You cautiously open an eye.

“One, two, one, two.” He counts steadily, soaring across the ice, unable to contain the huge beam the longer he watches you. Captivating.

You fight the urge to smile, the sensation of wind whipping your hair and his warm, reminiscent touch setting your nerves into a dopamine frenzy, making the routinely frown much harder than need be.

Nevertheless, perhaps staying in Hyunjin’s grasp would’ve been the safer option. Because with confidence comes failure (at least in your book of life), and your knees would’ve definitely appreciated not getting ruined.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin murmurs, sympathetically regarding your black and blue frame, looking worse for wear, skates in hand.

“Amputation has never sounded more tempting,” Grumbling, you hobble to return your skates, the man tailing behind you choking back his giggle, kindly waiting in case you stumble.

From the way things are going, the probability is high. Except, Hyunjin walks on eggshells, worried you might rip his head off in the case he asked the question sitting tentatively on the tip of his tongue.

Keeping himself contained had never been as unbearable as when with you, constantly having to refrain from wrapping your precious self into his arms, witness those warm, beautiful hues blinking at him like globes.

Five minutes into the walk back and your near-face-plant-turned-catastrophe was his last straw.

“Can I at least carry you?”

Your head snapping back was almost comical, ogling at Hyunjin as if he told you he’d been neutered or something.

Insane. He’s officially gone insane.

So have you, apparently. Because after getting all too familiar with the icy side walk for a fifth time, you give in, stifling your thoughts from erupting out of your skull—feeling like your entire earth was slowing down on its axis when he easily swept you off your feet.

Cute, hell, romantic too, until you arrive back at the hotel and the curious looks sent your way have your cheeks burning.

“This is so embarrassing.” You whine, burying your face in your hands. Of course, Hyunjin just laughs.

You missed his laugh.

And he cares for you that night, transporting you from room to room in his arms despite your complaints you could do so yourself (although you secretly preferred it, and no, not because it was Hyunjin, only because of how bruised your legs were).

Plus, the mental exhaustion was practically debilitating, sleep beckoning you into its cozy embrace as the clock ticked on the wall. The man before you knelt in front of where you sat on the side of the bed, gently applying antiseptic to your cuts while you blanked in and out of consciousness.

Any common sense had completely abandoned you. Certainly, since you hadn’t noticed only one bed sat dead center in the room. Nor had you noticed through your half-asleep eyes how sweetly he maneuvered you around, pulling the comforter snug over your body.

His hand strays, wistfully smoothing some hair from off your eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” He whispers, gathering spare pillows and blankets.

He’ll sleep on the floor.

December 24th – Paris, France.

Apparently, there was much more to this Paris dilemma than just the “going to Paris” part (excluding, y’know, the havoc that’s occurred over the past three days).

This fantastic surprise came in the form of a booked Louvre Museum date, now a bit more like a punishment with your current state of soreness merely rising up from bed. And, in turn, seeing Hyunjin sawing logs on the floor below, an action you were inaudibly grateful for.

You two are a different kind of romantic if that’s what you want to call it, especially when Hyunjin practically barricades the bathroom door, nonsensically shouting that he won’t make the same mistake of walking in ever again.

Sweet gesture, but it gets a tad bit irritating when you have to basically charge the door in order to move the chair situated behind it, making you doubt if it was to keep Hyunjin himself out or keeping you in instead.

Yeah. Different kind of romantic. Exes kind of romantic.

Once 5pm rolls around, you’re already dressed and ready to leave, trying your darndest to pretend you’re doing something on your phone to evade conversation. A middle school move, though your ego is on the brink of becoming extinct anyway.

Seems the final act is when Hyunjin steps out of the bathroom, wearing that tan trench coat he always did.

He notices you analyzing, stifling a very tempting smirk.

“I thought you’d like this jacket. Y’know, since you stared at it all the time.”

With a sentence you watched your endangered ego obliterate in real time, embarrassment swallowing you whole. The cycle is neverending.

Thankfully, at least one factor in your unsolvable equation proves itself useful, the factor being your already purchased tickets, granting an earlier entrance into what felt to be a new world.

A new world you recognized as Hyunjin’s world. Vast, expansive. A place you can get lost in and be okay with. Stories hidden behind gold-rimmed frames, so much to tell if only you’d listen.

He lingers by the Psyche and Cupid sculpture longer than usual. Briefly, he told you about them many moons ago. Their love awakening from something much more tragic, apocalyptical.

What a coincidence.

You spend what feels to be days in there, daylight from the lengthy windows overhead falling dark by the time you’re finished. The temperature dropped exponentially while you explored, ignorant to the frigid conditions till realizing you still had your trek back.

Curse the taxi service for not running twenty-four hours.

“You grew your hair out.” You comment, but it’s not really a comment, more like an observation you already knew and felt the need to point out for some odd reason. The awkward silence is suffocating enough.

Granted, you’d known his hair had grown. You saw him every day coming to and fro from work, so any adjustments he made you saw, some of which you remember loving oh so much.

This adjustment was his hair.

Hyunjin’s lips quirk ever so slightly, fingers straying up to tousle a strand.

“You used to love it when I grew it out.”

He continues to walk ahead, ignoring how you had stalled behind, numb grip desperately clutching your puffer jacket as if it’d magically allow you inhalations.

“You would tie it up for me, and stick my paintbrushes in the bun.”

This time, he spins around, seemingly unaffected by your (both literally and figuratively) frozen finger that simply blinks at him — robotic-like.

Like Hyunjin is a stranger. Like your Hyunjin, the old one you were mad for, is now a stranger.

“And I,” He sniffs in, his exhale causing a cloud of air to comprise in its stead. “Really wanted to marry you.”

There’s your breaking point.

He’s pulled you thread by thread closer to an unthinkable free fall, a freezing free fall. Unfurling your strings of yarn to no point of repair. So as you teeter on the edge, your defense mechanisms kick in. And before you can logically consider your options, you smack him.

Right. Across. The face.

He’s stunned, you don’t blame him for that, but there’s also a crinkle in his brows, a look of utmost hurt beginning to stain any somber expression left.

“You have no right to say that when you’re the one that caused all of this.” Your volume increases, unaffected by the glances from passerby.

You have no doubt the two of you are quite a scene, though common sense had long abandoned you, and no thought but fiery rage curls around you, tendrils alight.

“Why the hell did you want to marry me if you can’t even love me? Quit hurting and confusing me Hyunjin, I can’t keep doing this.” Practically pleading, he pulls his palm from where it babied his cheek, instead retreating to your wrists, keeping you in front of him.

“Listen.”

“No!” You screech, trying your hardest to escape.

“Listen.”

You pause, gingerly allowing him to adjust the scarf over your pink nose and ensure your gloves trap warmth for your fingers.

He bites his lip, gaze dancing across your features.

“I love you.”

You shakily exhale, wishing everything would just stop. Time would simply diminish into nothing but stillness, easiness.

Your anguish and anger was easy, and staying mad was a whole lot easier than this—confronting the pains of meeting him again, nonetheless this trip.

He’s finding the pieces to your puzzle.

You want to hide.

Worst of all? Especially hearing him say the words that ended you two months prior.

Cruel.

“I loved you,” His voice wavers. “More than anything, Y/n. And I still do. But when you said that, I got scared.”

He shakily inhales, the grip on you lessening a bit.

“Because when I say I love you back, that means I have someone to lose.”

It’s hypocritical, you know.

Hell, you know what it’s like to be a hypocrite more than anything right now. From hearing the godforsaken news to sitting in an airplane together after wholeheartedly promising yourself you’d never let him have you once more.

Yet here you were, dragging him by his collar into a kiss.

He kisses you back, like an idiot, childishly grasping his clothing-cladden frame against your face and savoring the small bit of heat huddled between where your lips meet.

His trench-coat, you remember, despite so many adjustments, is the same as usual, and it’s almost comforting to find he smells the same as well—floral, with hints of jasmine (mainly thanks to his favorite perfume). You remember that too.

Guess some things never change.

Perhaps he kept that mug after all, drank from it every day like he used to.

And perhaps, right now, he’s wishing back all the time you’ve spent apart, just like you are. Wishing you would’ve just talked like mature, capable adults. Figured things out.

Newsflash, you’re not mature adults. You’re two broken lovebirds fighting to find their song after being caged together, searching high and low for the perfect pitch when all you needed was a single note, a single start.

Positioning you where an arm wraps around your back, the other holding your cheek, he dips you as if in a ballroom dance, not kissing beneath a street light.

Everything is pretty in Hyunjin’s presence.

“Hwang Hyunjin,” You whisper, nostrils burning the longer you’re surrounded by snow, falling in hefty sheets at this rate.

He hums into your lips, maneuvering his head to kiss away the chilled tears beginning to froth upon your waterline. And in those moments, you feel so fragile, so weak in his touch.

Almost instinctively, his grip tightens oh so slightly.

“I really don’t want to lose you.”

And he laughs, a muffled laugh that nonetheless causes his shoulders to shake before delving further into your kiss, melting away every bit of anguish you felt, all the hurt and ache. Dissolved into nothingness by his lips.

Figures briefly illuminated by the light of the street lamp, you remain ignorant to the encroaching nightfall, the way the stars seamlessly blend with white snowflakes. Something out of a fairytale.

You’re certain you could’ve stood there forever, all numb and freezing cold.

But in love. So very in love.

For him you would’ve stood there. And the you still in denial without understanding this entire story would’ve died before admitting that.

This time, you’re okay with letting him finish the puzzle, create a song as lovebirds.

“You won’t, I promise,” He traces your cheek with his thumb. “Now let’s get someplace warm, shall we?”

Landing an affectionate peck to your burning red nose, he takes your hand, guiding you through climbing snow toward your hotel, sign reading “Hôtel de Vendôme” glittering in the distance.

In your opinion, however, it was too fleeting. A kiss you hadn’t realized you’d been waiting for until it actually happened, till you pathetically craved it again and again.

Although, that didn’t mean you didn’t enjoy gaining feeling back in your fingers and toes, treasuring the flicker of the fire crackling beneath a brick mantel. A few guests litter the lobby, dishing paper cups of hot chocolate left and right, taking the opportunity the mistletoe hanging above a long forgotten stairwell provides.

Christmas Eve and you’re beside the ex you swore you’d never spend it with, spend any time with generally. So surreal you simply cannot stop thinking about it, enough that you become too distracted to notice the mischievous glint in Hyunjin’s vision.

Well, before he points upward and you notice the dangling mistletoe.

And he kisses you again just like you wanted. Deeper, slower, like separating would cause you to break apart, carving your kiss into his memory for a second time.

Standing there, too lost in him to ever consider anything better than this, you begin to think maybe you’ll be able to finish that stagnant book of yours. Maybe it’ll be about two lovers turned two exes, whose trip to Paris might just have been the cherry on top to hurt feelings and broken love. Because, at the end of their tribulations, Cupid falls in love with Psyche.

And you begin to think—as the clock’s ringing announces midnight has arrived—maybe this Christmas will pass by on a good note.

No, you’re certain of it.

FIC TAGLIST. @slut4colinbridgerton @armystay89 @shujohajohaminnie @minhosbitterriver @callmedarlingsstuff

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