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ginkgo-phyta · 10 months ago

Note

Can I request Spencer (later seasons, post prison era) gifting his gf an initial necklace, but the pendant is his initial?

i.e.

"This is nice, Spence, but my name doesn't start with an 'S'."

"Yeah, but mine does, and you're mine."

Feel free to take it as far as you like 😏

A/N: ehehe yes ofc, i love thissss, but also a lil funny bc my name DOES start with an S :P so imma change the dialogue a bit. keepin dis sweet- there is a lil steamy moment for like two sentences however mostly this is fluff, hope you enjoy it, my love!

Fluff, no warnings (?), gender neutral language (im p sure, lemme know if i missed something!), 2.5k words

Spencer’s apartment is flooded with the music of joy; light jazz pours from an old style radio in the living room, your shared laughter tumbles into the rest of the place from the small kitchen, the sound of knives and forks scraping decorated ceramic plates signals the end of a well-enjoyed meal.

It was date-night for the two of you, a rare occurrence as of late due to Spencer’s teaching commitment. Initially, you were excited, thinking you would be getting more of him to yourself. You kept that thought to yourself, though, seeing how upset he initially was at not being able to help his team in the way he wanted to. That exhilaration was shut down particularly quickly as Spencer had begun bringing his work home with him. When he was working only as a profiler, sure he’d be away from you most of the time, but when he came home he’d spend all of his time present and in the moment. Now, at times, having him home almost felt worse than when he’d be away.

In the moment, however, everything was perfect. This is how you wished every night could be. The two of you bumping shoulders as you both prepare dinner; glasses of wine clinking with a cheers; old love songs serenading your flushed ears as Spencer pulls you into his arms to delicately waltz around the kitchen; his balmy eyes peering down into yours, speaking words of love and comfort. This serene feeling of domesticity was addicting. Life had been a whirlwind the past year, with it only being about six months since Spencer came home from prison. Things were jarringly different at first, both of your lives changing the way being wrongfully imprisoned changed Spencer, but you didn’t care. You could fight every battle life threw your way as long as your beautiful boy was by your side. Some days were more difficult than others, when Spencer would be reminded of the atrocities he witnessed in jail or what he had to do to survive. He’d isolate himself, snap at you, or push you away; but this evening was a good night- it almost felt like you had your old lover back.

“Dinner was delicious, angel.” Spencer beamed at you from the other side of his compact dining table, using his cloth napkin to wipe at the corners of his lips.

“Well,” you chuckled, pushing out of your seat to collect both of your plates, “you helped me, that’s probably why.”

Spencer quickly followed your movements, whisking the dishes out of your hands with a sweet kiss pressed to your cheek before taking them to the sink. “It was all you, beautiful.” he had whispered against your skin while leaving your side.

You silently shook your head, picking up your wine and water glasses to be washed. “Should I dry?” you questioned as he turned on the faucet, pulling a tea towel from the cabinet below you.

Spencer shook his head, “It’s okay, they can air dry.” he spoke with a little shrug.

“Okay!” you responded bright-eyed, throwing the towel down onto the counter next to you, a bit too excited at the prospect of not doing anything. Your reaction peeled an infectious laugh from Spencer's beautifully cerise lips, his nose scrunching involuntarily. You could stand there and just watch him exist for the rest of eternity.

And you did just that for a minute, took in the sight of him humming along to the jazz standard wafting in from the other room, engrossed in scrubbing the food stuck to the pans you cooked in. His jawline and upper-lip were shadowed in scruff, trailing down the sides of his Adam’s apple. His hair was long now, wavy and pushed back from his face, exposing his strong forehead and giving you unrestricted access to gaze into his gentle cinnamon eyes. The years passing changed his appearance in so many ways, and you loved every bit of it. Your eyes trailed down to graze over the top of his chest, exposed by the first few buttons of his deep cerulean shirt undone; they moved over the slopes of his broad shoulders, and down to his arms working steadfast to clean up the remnants of your meal. It didn’t escape Spencer how you were drinking him in without a care in the world, paying no mind to his elbow occasionally bumping into your torso.

“You having fun there?” he teased with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, eyes never leaving the task at hand. His words spurred you forward.

You simply hummed in response as you moved to stand behind him, your front pressing firmly into his back. Spencer’s eyebrow arched questioningly, but he kept his mouth shut, simply letting you do as you pleased. Your head peeked over one side of his arm, hands sliding down until they reached the cuff of his sleeve. Deftly, you began folding them up, “Just helpin you,” you mumbled as a throwaway explanation, moving to his other side to do the same. Fingernails scratched at his newly exposed forearms, your muffled giggle turning Spencer’s smirk into a wide grin. “Done!” you announced, wrapping your arms around his abdomen before nuzzling your face into his broad back. Over the barrier of fabric, the running water, and the sound of his scrubbing Spencer barely heard you ask, “Didn’t I help so much?”

His chuckle sent vibrations into your cheek, “Yes, honey, you were a big help. Thank you.” Content, you pushed your face further into his shirt.

The two of you stood like that for a few more minutes, Spencer trying his best not to move too much in order to keep you comfortable. You haven’t back-hugged him like this since before he was framed, and he didn’t realize how much he missed it until this moment. He washed the dishes a bit slower than normal, reveling in the heart-warming scene. Soon, however, he was done.

As soon as he turned off the water, you were off him, moving to pick up the once-forgotten tea towel and face him, leaning against the edge of the sink. “Thank you for your service, soldier.” you unseriously saluted before taking each of his dripping hands in his and patting them dry.

A titter broke through his smile as Spencer reverently gazed down at you, the way your eyes twinkled under the soft-yellow lights of his old kitchen, your beautiful hands turning his own over to attack any remaining droplets of water, your eyebrows twitching reflexively here and there in focus. The first time he laid eyes on you all those years ago he was shot in the heart by Cupid’s arrow, and it has stayed there, firm in place, ever since.

As soon as you were done, Spencer softly cupped your face in his palms, your fingers wrapping around his wrists as he tilted your head up to look at him. He leaned down, pushing a passionate, yet gentle kiss onto your mouth. Before you could deepen it, he pulled away just enough to mumble, “I have something for you.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you looked up at him in confusion as he pressed one more peck to your lips before moving into the other room, your hands chasing after him. Once his words processed in your brain you perked up, excitedly following behind him.

“You got me a gift?” You question, reaching where Spencer stood at the side table by the front door, right in front of the intricate, gold trimmed mirror you hung up just last week. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched Spencer pick up the weekly newspaper, “Uh, you got me the…local paper?”

With a roll of his eyes, Spencer wordlessly pulled you to him by the waist, mimicking your earlier actions by pressing his front into your back. You stumbled a bit, catching yourself by grabbing onto the forearm wrapped around your torso, holding you up, Spencer’s fingers digging into your waist. You peer at him curiously through the mirror before he whispers in your ear.

“Look,” he motions down with his chin, and you do as you’re told. Spencer moves the haphazardly folded newspaper to the side, revealing a glimmering deep emerald velvet box. From the size of it, you could tell it was some jewelry other than a ring. You gasped in shock, not even having seen its contents. “Spencer…” your voice was meek and unbelieving.

He watched you through the mirror, his cheek pressed against your temple as he opened the box before you. Your alluring eyes widened to their limits, hands flying up to cover your mouth. Your gaze whizzed to meet your lover in the reflection, “You got me a necklace??” your words dripped with incredulity. Spencer had gifted you generously in the past- rare books, handmade accessories, clothing you had your eye on, tickets to see your favorite artists live- but never before had he bought you jewelry. You never minded, content with wanting the first piece he gives you to be an engagement ring. That being said, this surprise moved you immensely. You took in the gorgeous necklace shining proudly up at you. A dainty chain in the metal you wore the most, in the middle sat a heart-shaped locket, no bigger than the tip of your pinky-finger. Before you could speak again, Spencer shifted to open the locket for you, revealing two pictures. One was older, taken at JJ’s wedding; Penelope had been going around taking photos of everyone and as soon as she neared the two of you, Spencer scooped you up into his arms as if you were the bride. The moment frozen in time showed you in the midst of a bellowing laugh, clutching to Spencer’s shoulders in shock, with your boyfriend looking upon you as if you were an angel incarnate, an equally wide smile plastered across his face. The second photo was more recent; you had invited the whole team out to a picnic brunch shortly after Spencer was released and this time Emily was the one taking candid photos. The two of you were cozying up at the edge of the yellow gingham blanket, Spencer's arms wrapped tightly around your figure rested between his legs. In the photo, his hand was cupping your jaw, tilting your face up to bring your lips close to his, the snapshot proudly showcasing his grinning mouth just centimeters from your own with the sunlight stretching out in the background.

“Oh, Spencer,” you were at a loss of words, your fingers hesitantly tracing the silhouette of the pendant, “It’s so beautiful, my favorite pictures…” you murmured.

Spencer hummed and nodded in response, setting the box down to take the necklace out of its confines. He straightened behind you, stretching the necklace out in front of your face, “Let me put it on you, baby.” he whispered, mouth barely moving.

You happily obliged as he brought the chain closer to your neck, moving your hair to one side to better allow him to clasp it behind you. Spencer watched you the whole time through the mirror while your eyes were fixated on the necklace. The cold metal of the locket hitting your warm skin caused a minuscule gasp to part your plump lips, but Spencer noticed it all. The way your chest rose and fell faster, chasing after your quickened heart; the way you drew your bottom lip in between your teeth; your uncertain hands grasping at his trouser legs behind you. Once the chain was secured, the locket resting perfectly in the dip of your collar bones, Spencer placed soft, warm kisses to the exposed skin of your shoulders and neck, holding eye contact with you with each; even as he moved your hair to dutifully pepper the other side. You sighed as his arms returned to engulf your waist, tighter than before, your hands moved to rest on top of his. He noticed your eyelids flutter close just for a moment, taking him in, before they opened again and your gaze shifted back down to the reflection of the necklace. Your eyes glinted with uncertainty upon noticing the engraving on the locket you hadn’t fully processed earlier.

“‘S’...” you spoke, reading the letter dangling from your neck. You kept your inflection steady, trying to make it seem like you knew exactly what it stood for, but Spencer knew you better than that. Before you could make any assumptions, he spoke up.

“For ‘Spencer’.” he stated matter-of-factly, his face moving up from your shoulder to rest against your temple again.

You smiled at him, more confused than before, “But aren’t you supposed to put my initials on it. You know, cuz it’s my necklace?”

“No,” he murmured sternly against your hair. Spencer’s left hand slipped down to grab onto your right hip, his right hand traveling up your sternum to thumb over the locket before splaying out to rest just below your throat, the heart pendant resting on the back of his hand.

Another, louder gasp sucked through your lips as Spencer tugged you closer to him, your back arched a bit as it stretched, bum pushing into his groin.

“I put my initial,” he started again, heading dipping down to mouth against the shell of your ear, his eyes looking at you in the mirror through his cocoa lashes had you biting your lip, “Because you’re mine. And now everyone will know it.”

Suddenly, you whipped around in Spencer’s arms, throwing your own over and around his neck, hugging his body close to yours. He stumbled back a bit in shock, grabbing onto your lower back to steady himself before a laugh shook through his shoulders.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you enthusiastically repeated, pressing kisses along his stubbled jawline with every word. “I love it so much, Spencer.” you pulled back all the way to stare up at him, gaze filled with genuinity. One of your hands remained on the back of his neck, the other coming down to fiddle with the locket, “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

His previously mischievous demeanor melted off his back as Spencer drank in how you dripped sweetness. “I’m so happy to hear you say that, honey.” His hands rubbed up and down your back. “I know things have been…complicated lately. I’ve been distant and cold, which I want to apologize for, but you’ve been beside me through it all. You’re my rock, and I just wanted to show you a bit of my gratitude.”

You shook your head as you pushed up onto your tippy-toes to kiss him again, the hand on your locket moving to lightly scratch at the side of his neck.

“I’m all yours,” you muttered against his lips, tilting your head to the other side to slot yours upon them again. You pulled away after a couple seconds, “You don’t have to thank me, my love. I know you would do the same for me.” You pressed a few more kisses to Spencer’s supple lips before pulling back again, causing him to huff. “Are you mine?” you whisper.

Innocent doe-eyes coupled with a small pout had a quiet groan dragging from Spencer’s throat. He brought a hand up to trace your bottom lip with his thumb before tangling his fingers in your hair,

“I’m yours, baby.” he nodded. “Only yours.” With that, he pulled you back in for a sensual kiss.

A/N: omg sorry if this sucks im so sleepy right nowwwww it took so long to write this for some reason i cant process words properly but i wanted to finish this! i loved writing this piece, and i hope y'all like reading it. ANON! how'd i do?

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction

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ayellowdaylily · 3 months ago

Text

Commander's Needs [NSFW]

» pairing: canon!Hange x afab!Reader » summary: Delivering Levi's paperwork to a certain Commander turns into something you could only dream about. » word count: 3.4k » notes/warnings: smut... p in v, please read my Hange headcanon for this! lots of pet names (dear, darling, good girl, love), Hange has a cock and boobs *Vine boom*, major slow burn » a/n: I had sm fun writing this so I hope you guys enjoy it (first fic on Tumblr so pls be nice T-T) this is also half not edited bc it's 3 am... so uh don't mind it being practically all over the place » song recommendations: Intro: Singularity by BTS » Ao3 link Happy reading ദി(。•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊

Only the sound of the crickets outside the window, as well as the quietness of the night, could be heard from Commander Hange Zoë’s office as they immersed themselves in some rather last-minute paperwork. The oil lamp’s flickering flame reflected off their glasses as they wrote, signed and stamped.

The soft silence was suddenly broken by the sound of knocks at the Commander’s door, drawing their attention away from the messy paperwork splattered across the desk, to the unexpected raps. It was rather late, why would anyone come knocking, Hange thought as they got up from the chair.

“(Y/N), what are you doing here at this hour?” Exclaimed the Commander as they opened the door to reveal the sudden visitor.

“Oh- so sorry for the late disturbance,” You said with a panicked tone as you glanced nervously at the papers in your hand, guiding them towards the Commander’s direction. “Captain Levi had instructed me to give these to you.”

As Hange sensed your tense posture, they swiftly grabbed the papers from your hands, examining them with an apparent curiosity about their contents.

“No need to worry! So Levi’s got you to do his dirty work this time?” Hange asked jokingly as they leaned against the door frame.

“I was just passing by, I’m guessing I was one of the few still awake at this time. I don’t mind tho.” You replied with a shrug of your shoulders.

Hange removed their weight from the doorframe as they returned to their desk “Now that you’re here, I might as well enjoy the company.” They pulled a chair and patted it. “Come, sit down.”

With hesitation, you slowly approached the seat and settled yourself beside Hange. The sound of a chair scraping at the floor broke the awkward silence as the Commander scooted themselves closer.

“So, besides being Levi’s mail person, what else do you do?”

You didn’t answer immediately as you gathered your thoughts, holding your tongue before answering.

“I volunteer in the medical bay quite often, if not I'm just your regular old scout.”

Hange took the time to examine you as you spoke, taking in every detail - from your hair to how the soft orange light cast by the oil lamp’s flame reflected in your eyes. You simply looked… captivating.

“A medic, huh?” Hange finally spoke once they acknowledged they had been silent for too long. “That means you know a thing or two about anatomy, right?”

“I do, I’ve seen and learned lots of things.” You responded quickly as the Commander’s question took you aback.

Hanges eyes surveyed your face, looking for any hint of hesitation, but it wasn’t intimidating, it was… more curious than anything. Moist began covering the palms of your hands as they took their time to answer once more. Quickly, you wiped them on your pants.

“Do you think you could take a look at my neck real quick?”

“Of course! What seems to be the problem Commander?”

Slowly, Hange’s blouse revealed their shoulders as well as the upper part of their chest while they undid the first few buttons. You felt a soft plush crawl at your cheeks at the sight of Hange’s exposed skin but as the Commander turned around, you observed a swollen part of their skin located on the upper back.

“This spot has been killing me. I don’t know what the hell happened but can you take a look?” Hange said with their back turned, awaiting your medical remarks.

“Well, I think you have a knot in your neck… I’d need to take a closer look to be sure.” You explained softly.

“Do what you must, doctor.” Hange joked.

You gave them a soft hum before reaching out. The contact between your cold hands and the warmth of their body sent jolts up your spine as you touched Hange’s skin, softly touching the tense muscle.

Hanges nerves followed the touch of your fingertips on their back, they leaned into your touch a little, their breath catching in their throat when you started touching them in a not-so-delicate way, contrasting your previous soft touch.

“Have you been stressed recently?”

“Yeah, I’ve been a lot more stressed than usual lately. It’s been a rough few months, with the new position.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it…” You said as you continued to examine their skin with your fingers. “You simply have a muscle knot, you could always let it go away on its own, or I could loosen it a bit to help. But for it to get better in general, you need good nutrition and rest.”

Hange listened intently as you explained, their mind fixated on the way your touch felt on their skin. They nodded in agreement as you suggested to help loosen it slightly, but hearing your last suggestion caused a small chuckle to escape their lips.

“Rest? That’s a good one, I don't think I’ve gotten a good night’s sleep in weeks. I don’t have time for-”

“Commander!” Gripping their shoulders, you turned Hange around to face you. “It’s important for you to get rest. As a matter of fact, as your acting doctor, I want you to go to bed now! The paperwork can wait.” You persisted.

Taken aback by your insistence, Hange simply stared into your eyes. They weren’t used to someone, especially a lower-ranked scout, telling them what to do. The corners of their lips quivered as they fought back the smile threatening to spread across their face.

“You think you can tell me what to do? I have lots of important work to get done tonight.” Hange said with a teasing tone as they folded their arms across their chest. You knew damn well you had absolutely no right to order the Commander around, but you were genuinely concerned for their health.

“Commander, please. It really is important to take care of yourself. No matter how much “important” work you may have.”

The only reaction Hange gave you was a soft chuckle at your persistence. They weren’t used to someone being so headstrong with them, but they secretly found themselves amused by your determination.

“Alright, alright. I’ll rest. I guess you only have my best interest in mind, right?” Hange responded as she shook her head in defeat.

“You bet, Commander!” You said with a bright smile plastered on your face that Hange couldn’t help but return. There was something about your presence that put them at ease, even though your determined attitude, they were enjoying this little back-and-forth banter.

“You’re feisty, you know that?” Hange exclaimed as they slipped their blouse back onto their shoulders, not bothering to rebutton the top buttons. “I like it”

A soft blush began covering your cheeks as you ignored their last comment.

“No time for joking around, you need a good night's rest for once.” You said demandingly as Hange held up their hands in surrender with a faint laugh.

“Yes I’m going, I’m going.” They said in a low voice, getting up from their chair with a groan.

“One more thing though…” Hange continued, stopping you in your walk towards the door.

“What is it, Commander?”

Hange remained silent before they stepped closer to you, observing you once more with a curious gaze.

“Is it a part of a doctor’s job to also ensure the patient they’re checking on… enjoys the experience?” Their voice dropped to a lower, more intense tone as they asked you. Their gaze fixed so intensely into you.

Your words came out with a stutter as Hange loomed over you, their imposing presence slightly intimidating you. “O-our patients' experience is the most important part of the job.”

The Commander smirked at your stammered response. They could tell they were making you seemingly nervous, but your reaction only fueled their enjoyment and encouraged them to push further.

“Is that so” Hange taunted under their breath as they closed the small gap between you two, their strides bringing them overwhelming close, forcing your body to make contact with their office door. They raised a hand and delicately caressed your cheek while slowly tracing the outline of your face tenderly, their touch sending pleasurable shocks through your body. Faced with the Commander's unexpected boldness, you only stood frozen in shock, unable to react any other way. A soft snicker escaped Hange’s lips as they watched your flustered face and nervous stature. With their soft fingertips still tracing your face, they pushed away a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“You’re awfully red… aren’t you, my darling?” They murmured into your ear. Shivers were sent down your spine as their soft breath tickled your ear. The comforting warmth of Hange’s touch disappeared from your face, their hand slowly continuing its path along your body before it came to a stop at your waist, trapping it in an intimate embrace. To your surprise, your body reacted strangely to the Commander's intimate touch, the warmth of their hand against your skin sent sparks of anticipation down your spine, brewing a heat deep within you that you couldn't explain nor ignore. A smile slowly crept to Hange's lips as they felt your body tensing up to their tender touch. The Commander continued to revel in the effect they had on you, the hand resting at your waist travelled higher, their fingers dancing across your bare skin, tracing patterns that sent tremors of pleasure through your body. You couldn’t help but look down as your cheeks flushed in embarrassment and trepidation at their touch. The anticipation in you grew stronger and stronger.

“You’re terribly quiet, darling… speak up.” Their hot breath tingled against the crook of your neck as Hange whispered, the hand that was once simply resting by their side now forcing your chin upwards.

“Commander…” You muttered as their touch sent sparks of anticipation down to your core. Hange’s grin widened at the sound of your frailed whisper, fueling the desire boiling inside of them.

“Call me Hange, dear.” Their lips ghosted against the line of your jaw, drawing you closer. The soft, velvety touch of their lips sent subtle shivers of pleasure rippling down your body, the tender caress was an inevitable invitation to your anticipation.

“Coma- Hange” You whispered. With a hum of satisfaction escaping Hange’s throat, the sound of their name coming from your lips fueled their enjoyment.

“Ah, that's better. I like the way it sounds when you say it like that.” They continued to pepper your jaw with soft, tender kisses, their lingering breath hot and warm against your skin. Hange’s hand, which had journeyed to your stomach, slowly trailed downwards, the tips of their fingers tracing a torturous path along the hem of your pants, creating a delicious tension that left you yearning for more. Leaning even closer, now bodies fully pressed onto each other, Hange’s face left your jaw and brought their lips to your ear.

“You’re struggling to keep it together, aren’t you?”

The Commander couldn’t help but grin a little wider at the soft serenade of you moaning their name. It was such a sweet sound, yet it sent such terrible images through Hange’s mind. Pulling their head back slightly, just enough to view how much of a wreck they had created.

And there you were, Hange’s eyes darkened, taking in your flustered state. With a small smirk appearing on their lips, they permitted their hand to venture further down your body, delving under the waistband of your pants to trace the edge of your underwear teasingly. Such close contact near your core sent jolts of excitement through you. You felt yourself becoming wetter as Hange’s explorations became bolder. Your eyes were drawn to Hange’s lips as if magnetized, you felt the longing hunger grow inside you as you remained powerless. The Commander's gaze bore onto you more intently, noticing the way your body trembled as their hand discovered newer parts of your soft, lush skin. They couldn’t help but flicker their gaze down to your lips for a brief moment before returning to your eyes, boring the same eagerness as their own.

“Hange.. Please” You muttered quietly, you couldn’t wait any longer, the delirious tension had taken your mind by force.

“Please what, darling?”

“Touch me, please…”

It was as if a string had broken, releasing a rush of need inside of them.

Hange didn’t hesitate for a moment before allowing their hand to venture downwards towards your core, their fingertips finding your sensitive clit through the thin barrier of your underwear.

In response, you simply let out a soft moan of their name. Relieving, that’s how it felt. Darkness overtook your vision as you closed your eyes, letting the sensation of Hange’s fingertips caressing your sensitive core overtake you.

“Keep your eyes on me.” With a forceful hand, the Commander took your chin and tilted it upwards. You obeyed their command, letting your eyes bore into theirs, but, you needed more, you needed them.

“Good girl” They whispered, their voice soft and intimate as they leaned forward, gently resting their forehead on yours. The closeness intensified the moment, their words filling the air between you like a shared secret only for the two of you. Your core became needy. You couldn’t stop yourself from lifting one of your legs, wrapping it around the Commander’s hips, bringing them even closer than before.

“More… Please, more.” You muttered under your breath, begging Hange to feed your core’s hungriness. Oh, how your sweet begging and your desperate moans drove them wild; the Commander was more than happy to comply with your request. Their movement was painfully slow as they pushed the delicate fabric of your underwear to the side, finally letting their fingers come into contact with your bare skin. Hange teased you ever so slightly as they dragged their fingers down your slit, covering them in your slick.

And before you knew it, a finger entered your needy core.

“Is this what you wanted, my dear?” The Commander’s breath tickled your ear as they whispered, their finger thrusting into you. You could only gasp at the sensation, bringing your hands up from their idle position to venture into Hange’s messy hair, tugging and combing through it. It was Hange’s turn to let out a soft moan at the sensation, your touch sending sparks down their spine.

“The way you’re sucking me in, it’s driving me crazy.” They whispered, their voice raspy with desire. An empowering rush of confidence overtook you as you allowed your hand to trail down Hange’s body, slowly moving until coming to a halt at the bulge of their pants. The bold move sent a thrill through you, the touch of your hand against their evident arousal filled you with a sense of excitement. The Commander let out a gasp as they felt your hand press against their core, the unexpected feeling ignited a sudden wave of heat and desire that coursed through their body. The intimate touch sent a shockwave of sensations around their body, their body responding instinctively to your caress by leaning into your touch, they felt every ounce of restraint slipping away.

Hange moaned your name as their eyes darkened, not being able to hold back, they entrapped your lips into a searing, messy kiss while adding a digit inside of you. It was sloppy, yet you were trying to memorize the feeling of Hange’s lips on yours. The warmth of the hand that was once softly caressing the skin of your jaw now left it unattended, while suddenly entrapping both of your hands together. Without warning, the feeling of Hange’s fingers inside of you disappeared. You whined in protest.

“Shush darling, let’s get to the good part, shall we?”

The sound of your ruffling blouse could be heard as the Commander unbuttoned it impatiently, all while leaving scattered kisses across your neck. Finally free from the confinement, your arms wrapped around Hange’s neck as they ventured lower, continuing with lingering kisses down your body. Hange hummed ever so slightly into every kiss. With a swift move, they hoisted your legs onto their shoulders and brought you off the ground. Their hands under your thighs, they held you securely against them while guiding you towards the bed. Your back made contact with the plush blanket as Hange gently put you down, their lips trailing up to yours to meet in a tongued kiss. The Commander’s lips were now seared into your memory, their tongue dancing with yours. You let yourself sink into the mattress as Hange unbuttoned your pants, leaving your covered core in the air. You bucked your hips as they pushed their knee to your sensitive area, grinding yourself onto it to get the least bit of pleasure. Admiring the view, Hange swiftly undid the last buttons of their blouse before tossing it with the rest of the discarded clothes on the floor. The warmth of their hands returned to your body as they ever-so-slightly lifted your back off of the bed to unclasp your bra, revealing your breasts. Your hands covered your sensitive buds as the cold air hit them before being pried away.

“Don’t be shy, love, we’re already past the point of no return,” The Commander whispered greedily. Before you knew it, Hange’s mouth was latched onto one of your breasts, sucking and twisting your bud with their tongue as their hands worked around your panties, slipping them off of you while you were too exhilarated from the new sensation.

Your eyes trailed Hange’s now naked body when they finally removed their garments, revealing their pretty bust and their needy cock that leaked precum. Joining you on the bed, Hange gently lifted your leg, their lips began a soft trail of pecks up your body until you were face to face. Honey-brown eyes bore into yours, searching for hesitation.

“Are you sure, my love?”

“This isn’t very professional,” You said in a teasing tone before instantly regretting your choice of words.

“To hell with professionalism.” They muttered in a ragged voice before entering you without warning. Your pussy sucked in Hange’s cock as if it was built just for them. Soft moans of your name left their lips at the sensation. Each one of their thrust made their cock explore a new cove of your core, making your hips buck every time. Your hands cramped up as you gripped the sheets before you tangled them into Hange’s dishevelled hair. You hadn’t expected the Commander to fuck as if possessed, their thrusts were rough yet relieving to your neediness. Sweet nothings kept spewing out of their mouth as you moaned; you could barely hear yourself over the sound of your skin slapping.

“So good, so good,” Hange muttered frantically as they buried their face in the crook of your neck, the feeling of their breath tickling your skin added to the many sensations you were feeling. It was almost overwhelming. Hands now holding onto their back, you clung onto them, nails digging ever so slightly into their skin. The Commander's soft grunts kept resonating in your ears.

Your walls began clenching around Hange’s cock, your breath becoming more and more ragged. Each trust sent waves of pleasure through you, you couldn’t get enough.

“Fuck, I needed you so badly.” They mumbled as their elbows came to rest beside your head. “You look so pretty, getting fucked like this, my dear”

You let out a lewd moan as Hange’s thrusts became rougher, you could tell by how their cock quivered inside of you that they were close. With a limp move of the hand, the Commander brought your legs to their waist. You held them tight with your wrapped legs, letting their cock access you deeper. Each thrust, groan, and squeeze threatened to push you over the deep end. Hange overtook you, you let it happen.

“Inside me, please… Hange,” You said in multiple breaths as your walls began quivering around their member. They gasped loudly at the sensation while letting out a cuss.

Stumbling over your breaths, you became undone on the Commander’s cock. Legs quivering and nails digging into their skin, you moaned Hange’s name over and over again as they fucked you through your high before they plunged deep inside of you for their last thrust, filling you up with their cum.

Slowly, Hange slipped out of you, a gasp escaping your lips.

A smirk appeared as their eyes examined your now fucked-out body, as well as the soft white that escaped your hole, spilling onto the sheets. Hange was admiring their work of art.

With a lingering kiss on your temple, the Commander let their body fall beside you with a squeak of the bed. “Let’s get some sleep now, my dear,”

“You’re such an idiot,” You chuckled before snuggling into their arm tiredly.

#hange x reader #attack on titan #aot #smut #hange zoe #hange zoe x you #hange zoe smut #hange zoe x reader #hange x you #hange x y/n #hange aot

124 notes · View notes

moviecritc · 7 months ago

Note

hii ! i was wondering if i could request a fanfic about Max verstappen and y/n —or you can give her a name UR CHOICE :) — anyways could you possibly follow the lines of them being complete strangers meeting in the Mexico GP, to becoming friends, then later on being lovers.

I’m not sure if you like to write sad stories but could you also possibly make a sad ending where towards the end they break up and whenever they are around eachother they act like complete strangers

Hopefully you take my request :) it was mainly inspired by a song called “strange” by Celeste !

Thank youuu !!

fortnight ⋆ max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x reporter!reader

word count: 2.7K

warnings: bad boyfriend behaviour, angst (sort of)

a/n: it took me so long finishing this, and im not fully convinced with the result :( i also changed things a bit. anyways i loved the whole vibe, so maybe i write something similar soon

also this ended up giving massive fortnight by t swift vibes so i named it bc of that

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

They were made for each other, or at least that's what everyone said. They had their first encounter at the Mexican Grand Prix. Y/N had been working as a reporter and interviewer for the races all season, but she had never had the chance to interview Max.

Mexico must have been one of Y/N's favorite places, all the culture, food, and people made her feel very welcomed. The race week in Mexico was the one she felt most nostalgic about once the season was over.

She arrived at the airport on Tuesday or Wednesday, she didn't quite remember, the only thing she remembered about her arrival in Mexico was the jet lag and that instead of grabbing her suitcase, she took Max Verstappen's.

She had always felt a certain intimidation towards him, by his way of driving and treating his teammates on the track. So, she was terrified to have to contact him. Surprisingly, it was Max who contacted her.

He called a few hours after she arrived at the hotel, she still wondered how he got her phone number and her name.

"Y/N L/N?" he asked. She recognized the voice and took a few seconds to process it. "I'm Max. I think I have your suitcase."

"Hello, yes. Uh, I think I have your suitcase too," She scratched her neck a bit.

"Ah, fantastic. Are you free now to exchange them?"

"Sure, yeah. Where?"

"I can come to your hotel, I don't want to cause you too much trouble," Max commented in a calm tone. That seemed like a super sweet gesture coming from him.

"Alright, I'll send you the location, come whenever you can," And they hung up.

Y/N was quite impressed by how nice Max had been, and that it was him who contacted her and offered to go to the hotel, even though she was the one who took the wrong suitcase.

Literally five minutes later they called her room phone, telling her that someone was asking for her. She went down with the suitcase immediately, meeting the pilot and his suitcase.

Max waved his hand a bit so she would know it was him, although Y/N knew perfectly well who he was. Max observed her, she had brown hair with lighter tips than the rest of her hair, probably from dyeing it in the past, and quite long curtain bangs. Somehow her face looked familiar to him, as if he had seen her before, but at the same time not.

"Hey, here you go," Y/N handed him the suitcase and they made the exchange. "I'm really sorry for the trouble, really, I didn't even realize it wasn't my suitcase,"

"It's okay, don't worry. Did you open the suitcase?" He slightly bit his lip.

"Well, yes. But I only saw the eight or nine Red Bull shirts, I realized it wasn't my suitcase," she said, smiling.

That made Max laugh. "Are you here for the race?"

"Well, yes, I'm a reporter for DAZN," Y/N nodded.

Max raised his chin a bit, understanding why the brunette looked so familiar. He looked around and then at his watch. "Are you busy now?"

Y/N blinked, was he…?

"No, not now," she pressed her lips, trying to hide a smile.

"Can I invite you for a coffee?" he smiled shyly.

"Oh," Y/N pondered for a few seconds what to tell him.

"If not, don't worry," Max spoke. Maybe she had been thinking about the answer for too long.

"No, of course. I'd love to,"

Was it a strange start? Yes. But only that afternoon they connected in such a strange way that it scared them. Y/N had two Siamese cats, Max had two Bengal cats. He spent hours on the sim, she could spend hours watching the same series, which wasn’t exactly the same, but close. They both supported FC Barcelona and the most surprising thing was that she had been on exchange in the Netherlands, at the same school Max was attending. The only thing was that he barely went to classes because he was going from championship to championship.

That afternoon it felt as if someone had made them meet, because it was too much of a coincidence to find someone so similar to you because of one suitcase.

"Will I see you in the paddock tomorrow?" Max asked, as they were saying goodbye.

"I hope so,"

"Stop by the Red Bull garage if you have time,"

Y/N nodded and bit her lip, still unable to believe the instant connection she had with Max. She even forgot she had terrible jet lag. At no point did she consider that this could end badly.

…

At the Brazil Grand Prix, they were already sharing a hotel room. Nobody knew yet that they were together so they could come and go as they pleased. Y/N was still a reporter for DAZN, although now that she spent so much time with Max her reports started to be shorter and with fewer details. She barely paid attention to the races, she stayed near the Red Bull garage, trying to see him when he entered the pits.

By that time, Y/N realized that maybe she was spending too much time with Max. In just those two weeks, Max had been pivoting between the sim and the hotel bed. At first, he said nice things to her and stayed with her for a while, asking her what she had been doing or what movie she was going to watch now. But the last time, he dressed immediately and went back to the sim.

Y/N even remembered how well they had connected and how comfortable she had felt, although it had only been fourteen days ago. She didn't even think about confronting him, after all, they were nothing, they never were.

Why? A serious relationship would only take up time that he could use for much more productive things for his career. That was better, even if it made the brunette feel as if he only wanted to satisfy himself with her.

"Max, it's late and I'm hungry, what if we go out for dinner?" Y/N entered her room where he had all the set up, it was the first time she saw it and she thought it was crazy that Max had all those screens, all those gadgets just to pretend to drive.

"I can't now, schat," he said, moving his hand a bit to try to make physical contact with her, but he didn't manage to because he didn't take his eyes off the screen.

"Well, remember we have the flight to Las Vegas tomorrow at noon. Come to bed soon," Y/N commented, looking at his crown.

She fell asleep before feeling Max's weight on the bed.

She didn't know why, but she really thought that in Vegas something would change, maybe because of the atmosphere or because it was the last races, maybe he would be slightly more relaxed now that he had practically won the championship. She even thought they would enter the paddock together, that she would have a fixed spot in the Red Bull garage or something, but a minimum of recognition from him towards her.

But it was quite the opposite. Max didn't show up in the paddock until Thursday afternoon while she had to be there since Tuesday. He made her take the plane alone and he didn't even text her when he landed. She had to find out he was already in Las Vegas when she saw him passing by her in the paddock and Y/N made a gesture to greet him, smile at him or make a simple gesture, but Max passed by without even looking at her.

That's when she realized she would have to confront him. He was behaving like a complete jerk, and Y/N was sure she wasn't the first woman who got fed up with him for that.

With a couple of calls and several messages, she managed to find out the hotel and the room where Max was staying. After a day full of interviews, Y/N went straight to the hotel address, knocking on his door.

"Hey, hello," he said, already in his pajamas and with a tired look. "I was thinking about you."

"Oh, me too," Seeing Max's hand on her waist, Y/N pulled away from him immediately.

Max raised his eyebrows at once, surprised by the abruptness of the brunette. "Are you alright?"

Y/N lowered her gaze slightly, choosing her words. Suddenly she was more than nervous to say something. "What… what are we?"

"In what sense?" he asked cautiously. He thought it was too soon for that conversation.

"What sense is it going to be?" she approached, realizing that Max probably was just a man like the rest, who had an unjustified fear of naming relationships.

"Uh," he said. Y/N blinked, waiting for a more complete sentence. "Do you want to make it public or something?"

Y/N ignored the 'or something', sticking only to the first words. She smiled a little, getting closer to Max.

"Is that what you want?" He asked again, putting his hands on her waist now that she let him.

"I would like that, yes," she nodded, before Max gave her a quick kiss. "You've been leaving me hanging for a few days."

"Schat, you know I have to train and prepare for the races," Max insisted, sliding his hands much lower than her waist.

Y/N was going to say something, but Max caught her lips and didn't let go until he felt satisfied.

On Friday they arrived together at the paddock, attracting attention from the media. They didn't talk much, she was afraid they would read her lips.

Y/N had to go with her team to interview the Ferrari team and they kissed in front of a couple of cameras as a goodbye. The image went viral in minutes. After finishing the interviews, she received a couple of comments from people around the paddock about how lucky Max was to have found her.

Y/N couldn't understand how he was the lucky one. After all, she was the one with the Formula 1 star pilot. She got on Twitter, seeing how several users commented on how amazing she was, how she had managed to make a name for herself in motorsport, how sweet and funny people found her, Y/N would never in her life use "funny" as an adjective to describe herself. And the best part, that Max should feel more than lucky to have her. That they made a practically perfect couple, that they coordinated super well. Just a few steps in the paddock had made them the couple of the moment. The example to follow.

Max won that race and jumped into her arms when he got out of the car, giving her a strong wet kiss in a very unsexy way. That totally took Y/N by surprise, she couldn't believe his first thought after winning was her. Who knows which of his PR team told him to do that.

"I'll see you in a few hours, wait for me in the hotel room," Max told her, kissing her cheek.

"Max, I also work here. I have to do interviews," she reminded him, with a somewhat serious look.

"Ah, alright,"

"Let me know when you're done," Y/N turned without saying or doing anything else.

She worked until late at night without being able to get out of her head that she and Max had progressed so much in the relationship that they had skipped all the really good parts, the honeymoon phase. And this time it had been her fault, it had been her idea to make it public maybe too soon.

She arrived at Max's room, which was dimly lit and cold. She took a long shower, still wondering what she should do now that their relationship wasn't working out at all.

When she came out of the shower, with wet hair and pajamas on, she found Max lying on the bed, sliding his finger over the screen of his cell phone.

"The shower is free now, were you waiting for long?" Y/N spoke, tilting her head slightly.

"I'm already showered, I was waiting for you," Max admitted with a sweet look.

"Oh," she said. "You didn't have to, I'm sure you're tired,"

Y/N walked cautiously to the free side of the bed, because they hadn't even talked about their sides of the bed. Max got up and changed his clothes, Y/N remembered how good shape Max was in and how good he was in bed as he was with the car. She discreetly bit her lip.

"I wanted to talk to you, actually," Max mentioned as he sat down next to her, giving Y/N goosebumps. "Did you see that people adore us?" Max hugged her by the shoulders, pulling her closer to him.

Y/N let out a sustained thread of air in her lungs and smiled. "Yes," It seemed strange to Max that that was the only thing that came out of Y/N's mouth. "Is that a good thing, isn't it?" he asked, now somewhat confused. "Of course, someone should."

Max blinked, now separating from her body so he could see her well. "What do you mean by that?"

"Since we don't adore each other," she mentioned, as if by chance.

"What do you mean by that?" Max asked, having no idea what Y/N was saying.

She sighed, shaking her head slightly. She wondered how someone couldn't realize something so simple.

"Forget it, Max," she fixed, getting comfortable in bed. "I'm tired."

"Wait, let's talk," he insisted, getting closer to her, with a worried look.

Y/N clicked her tongue, sitting up on the pillow. "Do you like me?"

"Of course, you're beautiful and attentive and intelligent. Why wouldn't I like you?"

That made her heart shrink a bit. "But do you see me as something lasting?"

Max thought about his answer. No. "I don't know,"

That was enough for Y/N to know the real answer, she clicked her tongue and moved slightly away from him.

"Y/N, you have to understand that I have a complicated job and…"

"For God's sake, Max, we both work in the same field. If you want to blame the distance or something like that, it won't work," Y/N denied, biting her cheek with anger.

Max pressed his lips, trying to hide that that was exactly what he was going to do.

"I think I better leave," Y/N commented, pulling the sheets.

Max saw all her movements, from when she got up until she picked up her things and left through the door. Y/N still somehow hoped he would say something, but Max didn't even move. He simply waited for her to leave so he could lie down and go to sleep.

Y/N didn't cry, she didn't even consider it. It had been a short time and there was no need to waste time thinking about what could have happened. For God's sake, she didn't even know if it had been a real relationship.

It had started perfectly but had been declining just a few days after they met.

In the last Grand Prix, Y/N was with her team most of the time, writing columns for DAZN's website report and preparing questions for her colleagues' interviews.

"Y/N, here are the questions for Max's interviews," her colleague said.

"Huh?"

"Everyone wants you to interview Max, for obvious reasons," he nodded, as if it were totally normal.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Y/N mentioned, making a face.

"Y/N, he and everyone else are waiting for the interview," he insisted, nodding his head behind his back. Y/N turned discreetly, observing Max leaning against a wall, trying so hard not to look at her.

"Fuck," she muttered with a soft frown. "Ok, let's do this quick,"

She standed up with a bored and sick stare, there was Red Bull's engineers everywhere and even people taking pictures of her.

"Hey," he greeted her as she approached.

"Let's get this over with quickly, okay?" she nodded.

"Try not to be too harsh, people still think we're together," Max commented.

Y/N's gaze hardened. "I'll do whatever I want, Max," she clenched her jaw and gave the cameraman a nod to start broadcasting the interview.

#max verstappen #f1 #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #noraverse 🫧#formula 1 one shot #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen angst #mv1 #mv33 #mv1 x reader

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discokicks · 1 year ago

Text

BAD IDEAS (ON THE SAME PAGE) — JAMIE TARTT

a fic inspired by bad idea right by olivia rodrigo!

masterlist! song inspo! AO3!

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader (no use of y/n!)

summary: football star jamie tartt is an asshole. he’s the one ex of yours that your friends always hated, one that you now all joke about, and one you haven’t spoken to in four years. however, after a chance encounter, the two of you reconnect, and he leaves you with his new number and a hundred questions about his reformed personality. but seeing him tonight would be a bad idea, right?

word count & rating: 11k (wowza), M! (18+! minors get away or i’ll narc on you to your guardians)

warnings: SMUUUUUUT, porn with plot, lots of suggestive language, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, sprinkling of a handjob, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kids), angst, mentions of alcohol, probable secondhand embarrassment, exes reuniting (it needs a warning sometimes), jamie tartt was an asshole and is now just a prick (in the best way possible), reader is a physio, major fluff, and swearing. also reader is american (bc the author is too. sorry </3)

authors note: well. i wrote it. olivia wrote this song for teenage girls in their twenties (me) only and i immediately thought of this fic the second i heard it. i'm calling this an exercise in smut writing before i embark on my aces (my roy kent series for my new friends) eventual-smut-adventure, so this evolved into something i wasn’t expecting but i had so much fucking fun writing it. god, i love jamie tartt. also! this is my first smut fic at this type of level, so go easy on me. hope you all enjoy. love you all tons! -mags

There are two universal truths in life.

The first is that the coffee shop you frequent on your way to work will and will always have the best cold brew you’ve ever tasted. The second is that Jamie Tartt will and will always be a massive fucking prick, and you’ll never see him again for as long as you live.

These are two things you live by, and while they may seem rather mundane or petty in the grand scheme of things, they are the only truths you can count on these days. Especially when everything else is so up in the air.

However, the universe doesn’t seem to believe in these things as blindly as you do, and this becomes evident the moment that you step into the shop on a gloomy Wednesday morning. Because these two truths (well, they’re fucking bald-faced lies now aren’t they, huh?) are broken within approximately two minutes of each other with seven words.

It began when you greeted Natalia, the barista who was here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday before your shift at the clinic with a wide smile. As soon as she saw your face, her expression turned apologetic, albeit a bit dazed.

“You’re gonna hate me,” she says, putting her hands on either side of the register. Your brows shot up at her words. “We just ran out of cold brew.”

Your face falls. “You’re kidding.”

“We were low on it this morning,” she starts to explain, “our stupid night-shifters didn’t prep enough last night. And it’s been selling like crazy today.”

“Seriously?” you nearly whine. “I might cry.”

“I’m sorry, Doc,” she apologizes, but she doesn’t sound too apologetic. Natalia’s eyes keep shifting to your left, the dazed look in her eye never faltering. Then, she says the fated seven words. “But he took the last of it.”

You turn your head in the direction she’s been looking, and your blood runs completely cold. You think you could drop dead and go to hell at this very moment, and it’d be a better existence than what awaits you in the next five minutes. And while this all may sound dramatic, you don’t care.

You don’t care because Jamie fucking Tartt is standing across from you, newly long hair peeking out from beneath his hood. He’s engrossed in whatever’s on his phone, fingers flying back and forth like he’s texting.

You think you could run. You’re pretty sure you could successfully make a break for it and leave Natalia high and dry without him seeing you. It’d be an easy exit, and you’d never have to see him again.

But then, as if he can feel your eyes on him, he looks up. And the second he meets your gaze, his face falls in what you can imagine was a similar fashion to yours.

Fuck.

Luckily, Natalia is none the wiser. She barely notices your expression, and with Jamie by the pick-up area, she can’t see the way he’s looking at you. So, instead of questioning you, she straight-up giggles.

“I know,” she practically squeals. “I was totally going to save you the last of it, but he asked for it. And I mean, c’mon. It’s Jamie Tartt. I couldn’t possibly say no to him.”

You tragically know that feeling all too well. Knowing you probably would have had a snappier, more cutting response to that if you weren’t in the most debilitating phase of shock, you settle for a quiet, “It’s okay.” You nod at her, brushing it off in an attempt to be casual. “I can settle for an espresso today.”

Natalia nods, tapping it into her register. “Same size as usual?”

“Yeah,” you say, not completely sure what you’re agreeing to. You glance over again at Jamie and find that he’s still standing there, staring at you, and you immediately blink away. “That’s fine.”

The rest of the transaction feels as though it takes a millennium and three seconds all at once. You’re still caught off guard by the time Natalia gives you your receipt with a dazed look in your eye that now matches hers.

However, yours isn’t because you just saw your favorite Richmond player or your favorite reality show villain. It’s because you’ve just seen your ex-boyfriend and you’re about to walk over and stand next to him for a prolonged period of time.

Nothing about this scenario feels real. You hadn’t seen him in four years. Not since things ended as ugly as they had, with him leaving you sobbing outside of a club at three in the morning, letting you know that things were over between you two. And he hadn’t even given you a reason. It was just that he wasn’t ‘feeling’ it anymore.

You saw in a tabloid about three months later that he was now seeing Keeley Jones (yeah, having to compete with that did not sit well with you at all) and had drawn your assumptions from there. Whether or not he’d been seeing her behind your back or had broken up with you to be with her, you didn’t know. You didn’t care. You were in your anger stage of the break-up and only knew one thing.

Jamie Tartt was a massive fucking prick, and you’d sooner walk on a bed of nails before you saw him again.

But now here he was. And there were no nails to be found.

You avoid eye contact as you pass him to wait for your coffee. There’s a piece of you that wants to say hi and play it cool, just to put on a show for him about how unaffected you were by everything that had happened. The other piece of you hopes that not a word is said for your entire time here.

Unfortunately, neither of those happen.

Jamie slides over to be near you, awkwardly rocking back and forth on his heels. His hands are stuffed in his sweatshirt pocket, and you wait for him to say something. Anything. But he doesn’t.

Instead, you can feel the ‘play it cool’ part of you rise up to the surface. You could do this. You could feign indifference. Fuck him, you could be cool.

You glance over at him and see that he’s pressing his lips together, eyes shifting around the coffee shop. It’s crazy how familiar you still are with his tells to know he’s desperately looking for a way to say something.

You say it for him. “Hi,” you say simply. Cool and unaffected.

It’s as if the one word alone makes him flinch. He clearly wasn’t expecting you to say anything. “Hi—” He clears his throat after his greeting comes out cracked, and he stuffs his hands further in his pockets. “Hey.”

The awkwardness of this moment is killing you, and it’s taking everything in you to pretend like it's not. As you search for something else to say, you land on, “You took my cold brew.”

You can see his brows shoot up out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, fuck, did I?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah,” you tell him. “I come in here every morning. Friends with the barista. Said she was going to save me the last of it, but…” You trail off and finally look at him. “She couldn’t say no to Jamie Tartt, apparently.”

You want to jump up and down about how well you’re doing right now. Maybe you are over him. Maybe you’ve finally moved past this shit, and seeing him once more is all you needed to solidify that. Maybe—

The second he chuckles softly with an apologetic smile, your confidence in those things shoots down. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“Since when do you drink cold brew, anyway?” you ask, frustrated with the fact that he’s fucking laughing in front of you. “You were always a like, caramel macchiato or frappuccino asshole.”

The names make him laugh harder, shaking his head. “Don’t like those anymore,” he responds. “Sugar hurts me teeth. Tryin’ somethin’ new.”

“Yeah,” you mutter. “My fucking coffee.”

That chuckle continues with a shrug. “I’m sorry.” he says again. Then he pauses. “But it’s not like your name was on it, or anythin’.”

Your face draws blank, and immediately, Jamie can tell he’s made a misstep. And it’s not that you’re angry about the joke, it’s just the… everything. Him. The situation. Everything you can remember that you wonder if he bothers to remember too.

Before you can walk away, you feel his hand on your arm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeats for a third time, turning you so that you’ll look at him. Your pissed-off expression meets his easy smile and it only fuels your anger more. “I was jokin’. I’m sorry I took your coffee. We can get ‘em to put your name on it if you want.”

“Whatever,” you mutter. It’s not the most mature thing you could have said, but frankly, you don’t care. You just want to get your consolation espresso and get the hell out of here. “What are you even doing over here anyway?”

You’re not sure why you ask it. You don’t know why you keep the conversation going. Jamie looks just as surprised as you are. “I moved over here a couple weeks ago,” he answers. “Got sick of the old place.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you reply. By the way that Jamie snorts, you know he recalls just how much you hated his apartment when you knew him. It screamed twenty-two-year-old AFC-money shithead and you would tease him about it constantly. “Was the empty beer bottle sculpture finally giving you mold poisoning?”

He chuckles again. “That came down shortly after we stopped talking.”

“Oh, so I was just lucky enough to see it in its final days?”

“Oi,” he says, pointing at you. “That thing was fuckin’ impressive and you know it.”

“Impressive in a dorm,” you shoot back. “Not a seven million pound flat.”

He bows his head in a guilty manner. “You remember that, huh?”

“Hard not to,” you answer. “You never stopped talking about it.”

He at least has the decency to wince at that one. “I know,” he says earnestly. It makes you look at him. He shrugs once more. “I wanted to impress ya.”

He did impress you. But not with things like that. He’d impress you when you watched him play, he’d impress you when he made you laugh, and he’d impress you on the rare occasion that he’d just be himself in front of you. Not some asshole footballer. Just him.

But you don’t say that. You say, “That wasn’t the way.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles mirthlessly. “Got that now.” He rocks back on his heels again, like he’s not sure if he should say whatever he wants to. “I was a proper fucking dick to you, wasn’t I?”

That almost makes you fall over. Did he just say that? Did he actually just admit that? Out loud, here, for everyone to hear? Accountability? Unprompted? From Jamie Tartt?

You want to glance around to see if Rod Sterling’s going to emerge from the bathroom to narrate the next couple of minutes of your life, but are too shocked to do so.

Your surprise must show in your eyes, because Jamie laughs to himself. “Yeah. Wild, innit?” He shakes his head. “On a bit of an apology tour this year. Trying to build back some bridges, or whatever.”

The nod you give him is slow, still reeling from all of this. “Right,” you say lamely. “Building bridges.”

“I’m serious,” he tells you and for a brief moment, you think he may just mean it. The sincerity in his eyes is clear. “I was terrible to you. And I’m sorry.”

Whatever you were expecting when you stepped into this coffee shop on this rainy Wednesday, it certainly wasn’t this. And you certainly weren’t expecting your first time reuniting with him to go this way— with him apologizing to you. The actual words ‘I’m sorry’ just left his mouth.

You genuinely don’t know who this is. Because it’s certainly not the Jamie you knew.

You saw flashes of this guy. Quiet moments during your short-lived relationship, typically when it was just the two of you. It’s the type of guy you always knew he could be if he tried. The type of guy you pushed him to be.

(Your friends always taunted you about having the ever-horrendous I-can-fix-him gene, and they never quite let go of it. But it’s not like it wasn’t true.)

Those flashes are why you held out for as long as you did. If it were anyone else, any other asshole who treated you the way he did, you would have dropped them in a second. But he wasn’t like that. Not always, at least.

It was terrible to think like that. You’d been in a low spot when you’d met him and had taken even lower when he left you. You’d recovered tenfold from that and now knew your worth.

But as he stands in front of you, apologizing, genuinely apologizing, and looking at you like that, you start to question it.

No! the logical part of your brain practically screams. Don’t you fucking dare.

You’re keen to listen to that for the time being. It hardens you. And all you can do is nod at him again. “Well, uh—” Your voice comes out hoarse. You cough awkwardly. “Yeah. You were. Terrible to me. And, uh… thank you. For saying that.”

So much for playing it cool. You want to slam your head up against the wall but hold yourself back from doing so.

He nods at you, opening his mouth to say something else before he’s interrupted by one of the baristas calling your name. His cold brew’s sitting on the counter too, something the two of you clearly missed in the middle of your conversation.

When you reach for your drink, he grabs his too. He’s still staring at you, biting the inside of his cheek like he wants to say something. When you go to move around him, he stops you.

“Look, I just—” You look up at him expectantly, and his shoulders deflate. “I know you probably want nothin' to do with me. But, I just… I want to talk to you.”

Your espresso is hot in your hands. “Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

That’s when he says your name. Your actual name. Not the nickname that everyone calls you, not a pet name that he used to use, he says your name. And it makes you stop in your tracks.

It’s so stupid. It’s so fucking dumb that your fucking name can send you back to the day you first met him and were completely taken with him. You hate it. And you hate the way it makes your walls come crumbling down.

“Please,” he begs. “Can we… Can I at least give you my number? It’s a new one, but I-I think I’ve still got yours. You don’t have to use it if you don’t want to. But just so you can… I don’t know? Think about it?”

You wouldn’t know if he still had your number. You blocked him ages ago. But you doubt it.

However, the more you think about it, the more you consider it. It’s the product of your resolve falling and well, everything else about him now. You think about it.

If you allowed him to give you his number, the ball would be in your court. You could do what you wanted with it. You could text him, you could tell him to fuck off, you could ignore him. It was up to you.

And you don’t know if that’s worse or better.

You decide on better. The second you sigh, Jamie knows he’s got you. A wide grin breaks out on his face as you hand him your phone. “I’ll think about it,” you mutter.

That’s good enough for him. He gives your phone back to you, new number inserted and new contact created. You’re glad he didn’t search for his old one. That one just says ASSHOLE in big capital letters with about a million gun emojis.

(That was done by your previous roommates in an effort to get you to move on from him. You thought it was a bit overdramatic. You were never one for emojis.)

He’s smiling when he holds his coffee out for you. You stare at him blankly, thinking he’s attempting to cheers you. Instead, he shakes his head and says, “Take it.”

You blink at him. “What?”

“Trade with me,” he clarifies and your expression turns to one of shock. “C’mon. You said it’s yours anyway, right?” When you don’t move he rolls his eyes. “Offer’s only good for another second. Me arm’s getting tired.”

At that, you sigh rather dramatically and grumble to yourself, trying not to act pleased by the gesture. You hand him your coffee and he gives you his. “Thanks,” you say. It was kind of him.

His grin returns and he nods at you. “Alright,” he says. After a slightly awkward beat, he steps back from you. “It was good to see you, Doc. Really.” You’re taken back by how genuine his voice sounds and say nothing in return. “I’ll talk to you later?”

He says it as a question, hopeful and well-meaning. “Yeah,” you tell him noncommittally. “Maybe.”

That too, is good enough for him. Because he sends you one more smile, then walks out of the coffee shop with your espresso in hand.

You’re still reeling from the interaction when you glance down at his your cold brew and see Natalia’s handwriting. She’s made it just as you like it, down to the milk and everything.

But below it is a small drawing. It’s a tiny shark fin with a #9 written inside, with little lettering circling around it.

Doo-doo-do-doo-do-do-doo.

You’re fucked.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” is the question that your best friend and former roommate Leah screams at you over drinks at a busy rooftop bar. So busy, in fact, that barely anyone looks over at the two of you.

You’d made the mistake of telling Leah that not only had you run into Jamie on Wednesday, but you’d let him give you his number.

And you’d texted him after hours of deliberation.

It was something innocent, something you’d thought way too much about, but innocent still. You weren’t sure if you were ready to actually talk to him, but there was something about texting him that wasn’t so scary. Your guard was clearly still up, evident by how dry you were in your messages, and you were keeping your distance. You never texted back too quickly, didn’t ask many questions, and often left him on read.

(Yeah, you’d turned your read receipts on for him. What about it?)

Your first text was a simple enough question, something that you’d been genuinely wondering about since you saw him. It was open enough for a conversation but not too forward. how’d you know my coffee order?

His response came in minutes later. Is that yours? Good taste. It was shortly followed up with, That espresso you drink was fucking disgusting though.

And that was that. That was how you started texting your ex again. That’s how you reconnected yourself with Jamie Tartt. That’s how you knew it was over for you.

And that’s how you’re pretty sure you’re about to kill your best friend.

Leah’s eyes were wild, somehow angry yet still disbelieving yet intrigued. But the intrigue was very minimal. Very minimal. It was hidden well by how pissed off she was at you.

She had every right to be pissed at you. She was the one who always warned you about him. She’d straight-up nursed you back to health when you broke up. She was the one who had to hear about him 24 hours a day until you were finally over him.

Leah had had a year of peace. And now you were killing her for good.

“You’re kidding, right?” she follows up with. Her grip on your arm is tight. “Please tell me your kidding.”

“Leah…” Your voice is weak.

It tells her everything she needs to know. “Oh, my God! Oh, my. God.” She puts her face in her hands. “You’re insane. You’re fucking losing it and we need to have you checked out right now.”

“I’m completely sentient and in control of my own body.”

“Are you sure?”

You sip at your cocktail. “I reset a knee today. I’m pretty sure.”

“I think you might need to reconsider,” she says. “Because you just told me that not only are you talking to Jamie Tartt again, but you were the one who instigated it!”

You deserve this verbal beatdown and you know it. But all you can do is shrug. “Technically, he gave me his number. He’s the one who instigated it.”

“I’m gonna throw my fucking drink in your face,” Leah threatens, gripping her glass in warning.

You roll your eyes at her. “Nothing’s gonna happen,” you say, even though you know you’re probably lying. Leah knows this too. “We’ve just been texting a little. It’s nothing serious.”

“Yeah, sure,” she deadpans. “Right. And even if I did believe you, what happens if it does? What happens if you get back in your weird, scary Jamie phase and he kills you again? I can’t deal with that.”

“That’s not going to happen,” you assure her, and this time it’s more confident. Because you know you won’t. Not this time. Not if anything happens.

You’d met Jamie when you were twenty-two. You were in your first year of your Masters program, slightly lost as in your move to London to finish your journey to become a physical therapist. Or a physio, as they called it here. Whatever. You couldn’t keep up with the names.

You were shadowing a physio at the clinic you now worked at, assisting him as a part of your internship at one of the football tournaments the clinic worked at. It was a ton of big-wig footballers, some names you recognized, others you didn’t. But it didn’t matter. They were precious fucking cargo and you were so paranoid about screwing up that you barely registered who they were when you worked on them.

That was, until a twenty-two-year-old Jamie Tartt sprained his ankle and plopped himself down on your doctor’s bench. He looked at you, you assisted him, and you were wrapped up in what you were doing that you didn’t even notice he was flirting with you.

You didn’t realize until he asked you out. And the rest was history, for better or for worse.

You were surprised he went for you. You knew who Jamie was, what type of girls he liked to be seen with. They were singers and models and actresses. They weren’t you.

(Perhaps that’s one of the reasons you liked him so much. Because he chose you. You didn’t like to think about that phase of your life.)

But after six months of seeing him, he ended things out of nowhere. Right when you’d settled on the idea that despite it all, you might be in love with him. And that was that.

You hadn’t seen him since. Not until this week.

“Not gonna happen my ass,” Leah scoffs, bringing you back into the conversation at hand.

A sigh of frustration leaves your lips. “Listen, I know it’s a bad idea;” you tell her. “I know it is. But, I don’t know. There was something different about him, Leah. He was just… like not someone I recognized.”

“Maybe because his hair is fucking long and stupid now.” She brings her glass to her lips. “His highlights look horrendous.”

“I actually like his hair like this,” you admit, earning yet another eye roll. “Listen. I’m not saying he’s changed. He probably hasn’t. But I…” You trail off with a shrug. “I don’t know. What if he has?”

Leah’s looking at you like you’re the dumbest person she’s ever met in her life. “Are you hearing yourself right now?” she asks incredulously. “Babe, he was a prick to you. Like, category-five, prestige-level twat. Like, worst boyfriend you’ve ever had.”

“I know,” you repeat. “And I said nothing’s going to happen. But if it does, and it goes south, I give you full permission to say I-told-you-so for the rest of my life, alright?”

Leah bites the inside of her cheek, shaking her head. “Whatever,” she says. After a moment, she glances over at you. “I’m just looking out for you, y’know. I don’t want to see you hurt again. And I definitely don’t want him to be the reason for that hurt again.”

You grab her hand. “I know,” you say once more. “And I love you for it. But if I’m gonna be stupid, I’m fully aware of when I’m gonna do it. And it’s gonna be my own fault.”

There’s a moment of silence between the two of you before Leah nods. “Okay,” she finally says. “Okay. Fine. Your fucking funeral.”

“I’ll let you give the eulogy and allow you to call me a dumb bitch for ten minutes straight.”

“Sold,” Leah says, pointing at you. That slight intrigue you previously saw in her eye returns. “Okay, now that I’ve yelled at you, you need to tell me everything.”

And so you do. You tell her how he took your coffee, how you nearly threw up the second you saw him, how you played it cool until you didn’t. How he apologized to you. Joked around with you. Apologized some more. And then he gave you his coffee.

You despise how excited you sound about it. Again, you’re trying to play it cool, but the people that know you the best can always see right through you. You’re excited about it. Excited about him.

It’s a bad idea to be excited about him.

It’s a bad idea to look down at your phone after you and Leah order another drink. Your heart stops when you see he’s texted you.

It’s a bad idea to open the message when Leah excuses herself to go to the bathroom. What are you up to tonight?

It’s past midnight on a Saturday and he’s texting you. It’s still preseason for him, so he might be drunk, he may not be. You’re three drinks deep and aren’t sure if you are.

It’s a bad idea to respond to him. getting drinks with a friend. You keep it dry.

It’s a bad idea to not look down at your phone until you finish the drinks you ordered. Because now, you’re definitely drunk and looking at it all with new eyes.

Would you want to hang out tonight? No pressure.

It’s a bad idea to consider it.

But it’s a worse idea to agree.

text me your new address. i can be there by 1:30.

Before you know what you’re doing, you’re knocking on Jamie’s door, intertwining your fingers together when you realize you’re shaking.

The second you do it, you regret it. You’re no longer feeling the effects of your drinks. It wore off on the Uber ride over here. And everything seems like a terrible idea now.

God, what were you doing? He treated you like that and the second you see him again, you go running back? He was an asshole. He’d made you question everything about yourself, he’d made you cry, he’d made you experience every fucking emotion in the book and all it took is one text for you to be back on his doorstep?

Your roommate was right. This was a horrendous idea and you were an idiot.

However, none of that matters. It doesn’t matter because Jamie Tartt’s opening his door and he’s got a stupid fucking smile on his face. And the second you see it, you know there’s no turning back.

“Hey,” he says as he opens the door. “You alright, love?”

You clench your jaw at the name, at his smile, about how casual he’s being, about everything. “Hey,” you say, avoiding his eyes to look around his flat.

It’s a complete 180 from what he had when he first joined Richmond and what he had when you knew him. It’s a bit less mojo-dojo-casa-house-looking and something more mature. While you can still tell that a twenty-something guy definitely lives here, it’s decorated well, it’s put together, and it’s clean. No beer bottle sculptures in sight. He’s even got a fucking candle burning on his counter. Who the fuck is this and what did he do with the guy you knew?

Jamie follows you as you enter, wiping his hands on his sweatpants. “You find the place okay?”

His question snaps you out of your flat-induced haze. “Yeah,” you reply. You clear your throat. “This is nice.”

That same, stupid smile returns, but it looks a bit nervous. “Yeah. I told you it was a bit different, huh?” he chuckles. He walks toward his island, rounding it as he speaks. “Needed a fresh start or whatever. The old one was gettin’... old.” He watches you as you nod, continuing to look around. “You still in the same place with the same people?”

“Uh, no. Different place. No people,” you answer. You’ve stayed on your side of the counter, actively keeping your distance. “Willa moved to New York last year and Leah moved with her boyfriend. We live in the same building, though, which is nice.”

The small talk is fucking killing you. You’re not even sure if he cared to remember your previous roommates' names, so this all could be pointless. You can’t believe you’re here. You can’t believe you’re actually standing here, talking to him about the past.

But as you finish speaking, he nods like he’s listening. Maybe he is listening. Maybe he does remember.

“I’ll have to see that sometime,” he ends up saying, and the implication of it makes your head spin. He wants to see you again. Or he just learned small talk common courtesy. Whatever it is, it’s driving you insane. You have so many questions for him, so many things to say, and as he wipes his hands on his pants again and nods over to his kitchen, he asks, “Can I get you something to drink? I’ve got—”

“Why did you invite me here, Jamie?” The question comes spilling out of you, rushed as if it were waiting on the tip of your tongue and simply couldn’t stand to stay in any longer. Jamie stops in his tracks to blink at you. The look on his face encourages you to go on. “I mean, I know I texted you first. But why… why did you text me tonight? Why’d you—” You grimace, trying to find the right words. “Why’d you give me your number?”

He’s silent for a moment. Thinking. Evaluating. But his eyes haven’t left you. “Because I wanted you here,” he finally says. You cross your arms over your chest as he takes a step toward you. “Because I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you.”

You want to say that you’ve been driven crazy all week because you feel same, but decide against it. Instead, you look away from him and scoff. “Right.”

“I’m serious,” he tells you, and your heart stops with every step he takes. “I felt like I was goin’ insane. I didn’t…” For a flash of a second, he looks shy. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. And I didn’t think you’d actually text me. I mean, I hoped you would, but…”

He’s right in front of you, but you still refuse to look at him. Your gaze has shifted to the floor. “I shouldn’t have,” you mutter.

The asshole has the nerve to chuckle, but it’s nervous. Your stomach churns. You’re not sure if you’ve ever heard him nervous. “No, you probably shouldn’t have,” he agrees. “I don’t deserve it.” He pauses and your throat starts to tighten. “I didn’t deserve you.”

That makes you look at him. Either he’s actually apologetic about everything, or he’s gotten really good at knowing everything you want to hear. “No. You didn’t.”

His fingers tentatively brush your arm and you allow him to take your hand. “I know,” he says. “I was a fucking prick. I get that now. I should never have… done that shit to ya.” You’re close enough to him now that if you moved an inch, his forehead would be up against yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth, pressing a feather-light kiss to the back of it. The action makes your throat tighten. “And I can’t fix it. But I…” He trails off again and looks you dead in the eye once he has the words. “I want to make it up to you.”

Your resolve is getting weaker and you hate yourself for it. You lean back against the counter, like that will put space between you two. “Jamie…”

“Please,” he whispers. His forehead finally meets yours. You can feel his breath on your lips. You don’t pull away. “Let me make it up to you.”

The last front you have standing weakly presents itself. “If you think,” you begin, breath shuddering as his hand meets your neck, “that one 2 AM hookup is going to make up for what you did, I—”

“I know it won’t,” he says, and it sounds like he does know. “But I want it to be a start.” The fingers on your neck are now tracing your jaw. And they tighten when he says, “Let me show you just how sorry I am, yeah? Let me make it fucking good for you.”

Jesus fucking Christ. That last front dissolves the second he says that, and your logic flips on itself. You came over here for a reason. You knew what this was. At least you got an overdue apology. Whether or not he meant it, is still up in the air, but if he’s promising things like that, then you might as well get something out of it.

You struggle to get a word out, so you nod against his hand. “O-Okay,” you finally stammer out. The way he’s looking at you gives you enough confidence to say, “Fine. Make it up to me.”

Jamie’s lips curl into a smirk and say, “As you wish,” before they’re on yours.

He’s softer than you remember. His lips aren’t chapped, he isn’t as aggressive with it, and he isn’t as rushed. Everything about him feels more mature and you struggle to understand how fast he could have changed in four years. But you’re not complaining. Not when he’s kissing you like this, with more practice and passion than you can ever recall.

His hand unlocks from yours to slide it up your sweatshirt, and it’s surprisingly warm against your back. Still, you shiver from the contact and you can feel him smirk once more against your lips.

The action alone prompts you to fork a hand in his hair and tug at it slightly, reveling in the soft sound that escapes him. Everything about him comes back to you at once, and you’ve never been happier to know that the same things still get him. If he wants to play it like that, you can keep up.

His hands drop to grab your thighs and lift you onto the counter, breaking the kiss momentarily. Your chest is heaving up and down, lips swollen and wet. Jamie appears to be in the same boat. “Fuck,” he whispers, sounding even more out of breath than you. He dips his head to press a kiss to your neck, nose rubbing against it as he makes his way down. “You look fucking gorgeous, by the way. Meant to tell you that at the shop.”

You’re too caught up in it all to play it cool, especially as he works at that one spot on your neck. “You look— fuck, you look good too. The long hair suits you.”

You feel him grin against your neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree breathily. “Looked like a prick with the old cut.”

You feel his teeth dig into your skin at that one, and you hiss. “You liked that prick,” he reminds you.

You were in love with that prick, but you ignore that thought. “I liked a lot of things about him,” you respond. While it’s honest, the accidental double meaning of it isn’t lost on you.

It’s certainly not lost on Jamie. “Yeah?” he asks again. He lifts his head to look at you, hand creeping up your leg. “What’d you like?” You grip his arm as it rises beneath your sweatshirt once more. “C’mon love. Tell me what you want.”

You hate the way your breath hitches the second his fingers meet your back. You know what you want. You want to see what he’s learned since you last had him. What he’s like four years later. What’s changed, what’s stayed the same. But you’re too embarrassed and much too proud to ask.

Instead, you decide to say, much too shyly for your liking, “You know what I want.”

He hums in agreement, other hand creeping dangerously close to the inside of your thigh. “I do, don’t I?” he murmurs. “Bet I know everything ya want. But I wanna hear you say it.”

“Oh my, God,” you say under your breath, frustration creeping into your voice. The asshole fucking laughs at you. “I want you to make good on your promise. This seems far from it.”

“Right, right, I’m sorry,” he tells you. He doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Just making sure we’re still, y’know. On the same page.” He glances at you. “Right?”

You blink at him. You’re not sure you could have been clearer about what page you’re on. But that’s not what surprises you. What surprises you is the seriousness in his eyes. How he’s searching for assurance in yours. And you know that if, for whatever godly reason, you wanted to stop, he’d pull away immediately, despite how worked up he clearly is.

It's the bare fucking minimum, but it's more than you’re used to getting.

So, you nod. “Yeah,” you say. “Definitely on the same page.”

The grin he breaks out to is nothing short of breathtaking. “Good.”

“But—” you suddenly say, stopping him from leaning in once more. He freezes beneath your touch, brows furrowing. “This is… This is a one-time thing. You’re…” You trail off to find the word. “You’re apologizing to me. That’s all this is.”

His smile falters, dropping momentarily before returning with a bit less radiance. It’s his turn to nod. “Okay,” he says, fingers now toying with the edge of your sweatshirt. “Gotta make it count, then.”

And with that, Jamie presses his lips back to yours, grabbing you securely and pulling you off the counter. Your legs wrap around his waist, grabbing the sides of his face, like that’ll stable you against him.

This time, it’s more desperate. It’s more tongues and teeth, more force and intention behind each movement. He’s setting the pace, but you’re keeping up tenfold. While it’d been four years, you’re not sure if he’d ever kissed you like this. He’s passionate instead of aggressive. While he knows what he wants, he’s definitely not just going to take it. He may be leading but he’s listening to you. And that stirs something inside you that you haven’t felt in a long time.

That much is clear, because you unconsciously let out a quiet sound against his lips. You can feel him smiling once more as he walks you slowly to wherever the hell his bedroom is. You’re caught up in him. And by the way he’s gripping you, you can tell he’s just as caught up in you.

So much so, that he completely loses track of where he’s going and accidentally slams you into his doorframe. You yelp, more because of shock than pain, and pull away to glare at him.

Jamie’s already apologizing. “Sorry, sorry,” he says. “Still gettin’ used to this place.”

“Well, figure out how to navigate better,” you respond, verging on a pout as you rub the back of your head.

“I’m sorry!” he repeats. He’s still got you against the doorframe. “It’s hard to see with your big head in me face. And I can’t kiss ya with, like, my eyes open. It’d be freaky.”

“I’ll give you a pass for that one,” you reply dryly. “Be weird instead of giving me a concussion.”

He’s walking you toward the bed when he mutters, “I’ll give you something, alright.”

Your back meets the mattress and you try to ignore the way he held his hand behind your head when he laid you down. You have under a second to adjust before he’s on top of you. The desperation returns and it almost takes your breath away.

He’s essentially straddling you, tugging at the waist of your leggings before he leaves one last kiss on your lips. He finally gets to pull your sweatshirt off, something he’d clearly been dying to rid you of since he first kissed you. You lift your arms up to help him, finding that you quickly start to do the same to him. You hear him chuckle as you attempt to get it up his back.

“I got it, love, hold on,” he says softly, tossing your hoodie to the side to take off his own. Your eyes immediately go to his chest and stomach and you refrain from reaching out to touch him. When you look up at him, you expect him to be smirking. However, he’s doing the exact opposite.

Jamie’s looking down at you like he can’t fucking believe you’re real. It’s jarring, seeing him like this, but you figure he’s in the same headspace as you and is still struggling to process that this is happening. It doesn’t matter, because before you can question it, he’s moving to press a kiss to your collarbone.

Your hand falls into his hair as he works his way down, mouthing the area of your chest. He pauses before he gets to the bra you’re wearing. His eyes flick up to yours. “Can I—”

You’re nodding before he can even get the words out, shifting to make it easier for him. He discards it to the floor with the rest. When he looks back at you, he releases a shaky breath and just stares.

He stares so intently that you begin to get self-conscious. “What?” you ask.

The question takes Jamie out of his trance. He shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “I just— I… Fuck. I forgot how beautiful you were.”

That spreads a warmth through you, one that pulls at your core. As you feel your face heat, you realize you have nothing to say to that. Luckily, he’s already moving on.

Jamie’s different. Really different. And you don’t realize how different he is until you start looking at him like you are right now. You were trying to convince yourself when you told Leah that he’d changed, you’ll admit that. But right now, you think you may have been telling the truth.

He grabs the waist of your leggings once more, lifting your legs to pull them off. You can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips as he struggles to do so. He shakes his head with a soft smile. “Missed that.”

“What?” you ask again.

“Your laugh,” he replies. “Missed that more than you know.”

The sweet words hit you like a bullet. The vulnerability in his voice is what gets you. Goddammit, when did he get so fucking nice? It drives you insane. But it also makes you quietly admit, “I think I’ve got an idea.”

With your leggings now gone, Jamie’s smile turns fonder. Gentler. He presses a kiss to your leg but says nothing in response. He simply places your legs down, eyes flicking down. He lifts his hand to trace down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your panties. The feeling makes you flinch.

He hooks a finger in the band, and your hips buck up to encourage him. His other hand spreads across your hip in a poor effort to keep you still. “Easy,” he murmurs.

You huff out a breath. “You can—” Your breath hitches as two of his fingers push into your underwear. “Fuck, you can take them off.”

His lips quirk up. “Well, thank you for the permission,” he says. “But not yet. I wanna take it slow with ya.”

Your mouth parts. “Why?”

“Because it’s been years since I’ve seen you,” he answers, moving up to kiss you softly. He speaks against your lips as he says, “And I’ve apparently only got one shot to do this right. So I’m gonna make this last.”

You roll your eyes at his terribly disguised jab. “You’re a dick,” you mutter against him.

“And you’re—” He cuts himself off and a gasp escapes your lips as he cups your core and rubs his palm against it. “Fuck, love. You’re really fucking wet.” He’s positioned on you so that you can feel him getting harder against you thigh. “This all for me, yeah?”

His voice is cocky, while still sounding awestruck. The remaining dignity you have left makes you roll your eyes, albeit a bit embarrassed. “It’s for whoever doesn’t take their fucking time to give me what I want,” you bite.

Jamie draws back from you with a full smirk on his face. “That so?” he asks. The hand against you starts creeping up to the band of your panties. “And what is it that you want? You still haven’t told me.”

You scoff. “I told you.”

He pulls your underwear down your legs and the air around you suddenly makes you realize just how exposed you are. You told yourself you’d never give him the satisfaction of seeing you like this again. But here you were.

His fingers brush against the inside of your thigh, and you shiver once more. “No,” he tells you gently. “You didn’t. You just said you wanted me to keep my promise. You didn’t tell me what you wanted.”

He’s moving closer and closer to the place you want him and you don’t know if you can take it anymore. You shift uncomfortably, as if that will cease the ache. But you know only one thing will.

So, you give him the answer he’s been waiting for this entire time. “You.” His gaze meets yours. “I want you, Jamie. Please.”

That breathtaking grin returns. “Just because you asked so nicely.”

And then he puts his mouth on you without warning.

You spasm at the contact, crying out as he uses both arms to hold you still. The second you calm down, one hand leaves your thigh and you feel him work two fingers into you. Fuck. He didn’t know that before.

And it’s not like he was ever bad in bed when you two were together. You’re not sure you would have stayed with him if that were the case. It’s just… he’s better now. He’s hitting everything nearly perfectly, not stumbling like he used to. He’s more confident. More assured. He knows what he’s doing.

And it’s fucking hot.

The sounds that fill his room are downright obscene. He’s gripping one side of you to keep you in place, splitting you open on his knuckles with the other. His mouth zeroes in on your clit, alternating between licking and sucking in a way that honestly has you close already.

“F-fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck, Jamie. Don’t st— shit. Don’t stop. Please.”

Of course, the fucking shit he is, stops. He grins up at you, but continues to slowly pump his fingers in and out. “You sound so fucking pretty begging like that,” he tells you. He’s just as out of breath as you are. He feels you clench around his fingers at the praise and it only eggs him on further. “Look so pretty too. Fucking gorgeous.”

“Jamie,” you whine again. He’s going too slow. Teasing. It’s not fucking fair. He’s supposed to be the one apologizing to you. “I need— Ngh. I need—”

“What do you need?” he asks. “Tell me.”

You think you’d kill him if you weren’t completely incapacitated. “More,” you manage to get out, wincing as he continues at his slow pace. You’re close. Embarrassingly close. “Just fucking more. Please. I’m—” You interrupt yourself with a moan as he shoves his fingers deeper into you.

“I know,” he nearly coos. “I’ve got you.”

And got you he does. Because not only does he pick up the pace, he stretches you with a third finger. The sting of it is momentary, and it subsides as soon as he bends down and swipes your clit with his tongue.

Your back arches. “Jesus fucking— Jamie. Oh, my God.”

He’s good. Of course, he’s fucking good. He’s Jamie Tartt. You’re not sure he’s ever been bad at anything physical in his life. Emotionally was another story. But that story didn’t matter right now. Not when he’s got you like this, and you’re teetering over the edge.

He pulls away from you, breath tickling your core as he speaks. “C’mon,” he chides. “I can feel it. You’re right there, aren’t you, love?” He takes your breathy silence as confirmation and nods to himself. “Yeah. You just need—”

He removes one finger and crooks the rest a certain way, deeper than before. Your heart may stop beating. He’s done something he did to you time and time again, something that he was actually really fucking good at, something he knew you liked years ago. When he looks up at you, he searches your eyes. And by the way they roll back, he knows he’s struck gold.

The smirk returns and he continues to work his fingers into you, smirk growing each time he hears you say his name. “Yeah,” he whispers. “That’s it. That’s still it.”

You could finish at any moment. The telltale heat is rising in your stomach, and you’re just waiting for the cord to snap. And then, as if your muscle memory takes over, you reach out for his arm.

But instead of letting you do it like before, he does something completely different. He intertwines his free hand with the back of yours and guides it to your stomach. And then he presses on your hand.

The pressure builds. You’re barely able to make any noise. And then—

“C’mon,” Jamie repeats. “Come for me, angel. I wanna see it.”

The cord snaps, and you do as you’re told. You come. Hard.

Jamie talks you through it, fingers still moving to coax your climax out of you. You’re sure you look pathetic, crying out and thrashing around in his bed, but you don’t care. You can barely fucking see right now.

It’s been a while for you. Or at least been a while since you’ve had anything that good. And it completely strips away any sort of attitude or frustration you had before.

When you finally come back down, you laugh softly, shaking your head and throwing your arm over your face. “Fuck,” you say through a chuckle.

You feel him shift, moving up the bed to hover over you once more. When he removes your arm from your eyes, you see that he’s smiling. “Nobody’s ever laughed after I’ve done that,” he tells you, a faux pout pulling at his lips. He bends down to press them to yours and you can taste yourself. “It better be a good fuckin’ sign.”

You laugh again, reaching up to cup his cheek and pull him into another kiss. “Very good sign,” you assure him. It’s muffled against him, but you think he gets the point.

It’s then that you catch him by surprise and flip the two of you over, straddling him in a way that makes him release a breathy sound that you’d missed dearly. But, something feels off.

Your glance down at him, expecting to feel or see fabric once you reach his leg. But there’s not much. Only what feels like boxer shorts. It catches you off guard. When did he take off his—

It doesn’t matter. It’s easier for you now. Especially as your fingers move across his abdomen, biting back a grin at the way he shudders. He looks up at you from his pillow.

“What are you doing?” he asks leadingly.

You shrug innocently, fingers toying with the band hanging low on his hips. “Returning the favor,” you reply.

Jamie makes a noise of disapproval, placing a hand on your thigh like that’ll stop you. “I’m supposed to be the one making it up to you,” he states, but his voice gets less firm as you cup him through the fabric. “Fuck. Y-You don’t owe me anythin’. No favors.”

You shake your head, pulling at his boxers so that he springs free from inside. Your eyes travel back to his as you reach out and gently grab his cock, staring down at him with a smirk dancing on your lips. “You sure?”

He looks pained. You don’t know why. You’re offering a way to take him out of his misery. But still, he shakes his head and moves his arm from your leg to your back.

He takes his turn to flip you over next. He swears under his breath as he does so, shaking his head when you land on your back.

“I told you,” he says, taking his boxers all the way off now. “It’s about you. Not me.” He shakes his head again, but this time it’s a bit more frustrated. When he speaks, it’s mostly to himself. “Can’t believe I just fuckin’ said no to that.”

A snort escapes you. “You’re a changed man, Jamie Tartt,” you joke.

He shrugs before placing his arms on either side of you. His voice teeters on teasing and earnest. “I’ve been trying to tell ya that.”

You’re not sure if it’s him, or the situation, or the sex, but you think you believe him. It makes your chest heavy. But you can’t admit that. You won’t let yourself. So, you keep that feeling tucked away, way in the back of your mind for safekeeping. You know it’s better like that. For your emotional sake, at least.

You allow yourself to prop yourself up on your elbow and kiss him instead of responding to that, bringing him in closer. You can feel the length of him press against your stomach, and his groan vibrates against your lips.

He pulls away, grinding into you. The heat of your body is making him go wild. “Can I—”

You know what he wants. And you want it too. “Please,” you say.

He nods, moving to angle himself against you. You glance down to watch him, heat flooding your face as he strokes himself before glancing up at you. You nod in return, giving him the confirmation he needs. Jamie grins.

He slides in you slowly. The stretch is mild but grows as he hovers over you once more. It’s easy to adjust, having been warmed up moments before. But for Jamie, it’s not as easy.

He bottoms out almost immediately, tensing over you. His head bows, chin falling to his chest. “Fuck,” he curses. It’s quiet but straight-up sinful. “God, fucking— you’re so—” You grip onto his bicep as he steadies himself. “I’m sorry. It’s just— i-it’s been a minute. And you’re f-fucking tight. Jesus.”

You don’t mind. He feels good like this, despite the fact he’s not moving. Your hand travels from his arm to his hair, tucking a piece of it behind his ear before settling on his jaw. “It’s alright,” you tell him. “We’ve got time.”

Jamie’s eyes snap open at that, but he’s not looking at you like you thought he would. You were expecting a cheeky sort of smile, a smirk, something in that realm. But he’s not. He’s looking at you like…

It’s something you can’t define. Something you’ve never seen before. It churns your stomach yet makes your heart race. Neither of you says a word.

He just dips down to kiss you again and slowly begins to move inside you. Your lips part in a gasp, and he slides his tongue in your mouth. Your back arches into him.

Before you know it, he's breaking from you and is breathing heavy against your neck. “Shit,” he groans. “You’re just— fuck. You…” He trails off, mouth hovering over your collarbone. “You drive me f-fucking mad. God, everything about you. Y-you don’t even know, do you?”

The pace picks up. He’s thrusting into you harder now and your nails dig into his back. You hear him hiss at the contact, but neither of you seem to care. “Fuck.” It’s all you can say. “Fuck, Jamie.”

He’s clearly not done talking. “How’d I-I fuck this up? Huh?” You can’t tell if he’s talking to you or himself. His mouth is on your chest now and the feeling runs through you like fire. “Fucking idiot. Didn’t know what I had. Can’t believe I let you go.”

You clench around him and it throws him off kilter. You watch his jaw clench, hand beside you gripping the pillow you’re on. “You w-were an idiot.” Your agreement is much less effective when it’s closed out by a high-pitched moan.

“I know. Fuck, I know,” he says. “I’m sorry. Deserved better.” He continues to slam into you. “I wanna gi—” A strangled sound erupts from his lips. “Give you better. You’re so—” When he shakes his head, he looks wrecked. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

Something about that sends a shock to your system. It makes you cry out and you can feel it. Your legs tremble around him. You’re close again. You’re really fucking close.

He kisses you once more, deeper than before. It’s more frantic. Everything about him is more erratic. You can tell he’s getting there too. “Couldn’t stop,” he manages to get out, hot against your lips. “Couldn’t s-stop thinking about you. I missed you.”

You clench around him again, the admission inching you closer. “Shit,” you say. “Fuck, Jamie, keep going.”

And keep going he does. His hand moves down your stomach, fingers finding your clit. He rubs circles into it and that sends you into a fucking tailspin. He swallows the sound you make.

“Missed you,” he says again, but it’s more helpless. Jamie fucking whimpers. “God, I f-fucking missed you, angel. Missed you so fucking much, I—”

You don’t hear the rest of what he says because you come the second he makes that sound. It’s white-hot. Blinding. Your legs twitch around him and you claw at him as he continues to rub your clit. You’re loud, but you don’t give a shit. It seems to spur him on.

He’s not far behind you. He spills into you with a groan, stomach flexing as he heaves over you, twitching inside of you. You’re still recovering from your own high as you open your eyes to watch him. You catch his expression for a moment before he’s collapsing into you.

You release a soft ‘oof’ at the sudden weight of him. He doesn’t say anything for a moment and neither do you. You just breathe together. But after a moment you allow yourself to put a hand in his hair.

“You’re fucking heavy,” you tell him, but there’s not much bite in it.

You feel him chuckle. “Give me second,” he says. “Not as fuckin’ agile as I used to be. Took a lot out of me, alright?”

You roll your eyes but continue to run your fingers through his hair. “You’re twenty-six and like, the face of the AFC,” you tell him. “Richmond might have to shorten your contract if you’re dying after that.”

He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Take that up with me Chairwoman then.”

You can’t help but laugh as you push him off of you, wincing as you feel him slip out. He lands with the same noise you did. “If she heard you complaining like that, she’d be on my side.”

Jamie grins at you, joining in on your laughter. He shifts toward you, grabbing your hand to play with your fingers. “You’re probably right. Shouldn’t be complainin’,” he says. He lifts your hand to his lips. “Not when you’re here.”

They’re sweet words. The casualty of them makes your heart swell. But that anxiety about him returns. One time thing, you tell yourself. Apology. One time. That’s all.

You pull your hand back softly and he glances over at you. There’s a hint of worry in his eyes, like that one movement set off alarm bells in his head. You give him an uneasy smile.

Before you can move to get up or say anything or do something, he’s talking. And you have to refrain from wincing.

“I know…” He looks away from you. Shy. “I know you said one time,” he says, as if he can read your fucking mind. “And that’s… That’s okay. I get that, yeah? But I—” Jamie wipes a hand down his face, staring at the ceiling. “I meant what I said. I missed ya. Really.”

You missed him too. But your walls have been rising back up since he started talking again. “I don’t know what you want me to do with that,” you tell him, only partially lying.

You feel like an asshole when he winces. Maybe you were being an asshole. Maybe it was finally your turn to do so.

“Just…” He finally looks at you. “If you ever… don’t want this to be just a one-time thing.” He waves it off in an attempt to look casual. You know he’s anything but. “You’ve got my number. Or whatever.”

The timidness in his voice makes your resolve soften. Even if you don’t see him again, you suppose you can let him down easy. He’s been kind enough tonight to deserve that. You nod at him as you sit up. “Okay,” you say. “I’ll let you know.”

It’s only slightly awkward as you get out of his bed and search for your clothes. He asks if he can call you an Uber home and you reject it, letting him know that you’ve got one on the way.

You can feel his eyes on you as you dress, ignoring the way they burn into you. You can tell he’s searching for something to say, or something to talk to you about but doesn’t know what.

You’re half-dressed before he can shoot himself in the foot and say something stupid. “Hey,” he finally says. You glance over your shoulder at him after you slip your sweatshirt on. “I’m really glad you texted me.”

The nice streak you’re riding on continues and you offer a small but genuine smile in return. “Me too,” you admit, ignoring the way that his own soft smile pulls at your heartstrings.

Before you leave his room, you offer one more admission. You stop in the doorframe he hit you against, lips curling further upward. “It was really good to see you, Jamie.”

He props himself up on his elbow, smile growing. “Good,” he says, nodding. Then, like a prick, he winks at you. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

You physically cannot stop yourself from rolling your eyes and you hear him laugh to himself as you walkdown his hall. “Goodbye, asshole.”

He shouts a tired-sounding ‘bye!’ when you slip your shoes on, shaking your head as you look around his apartment once more. The candle on his counter is still burning, smelling of amber moss and palo santo.

You blow it out before you leave, knowing he’ll forget.

And as you do so, you feel yourself regress. Or grow. You’re not quite sure which one.

But it makes you curse under your breath and leave his flat immediately.

There is one more universal truth you forgot to mention.

And that’s that the second you think you’re over Jamie Tartt, he comes back into your life and flips everything on its head. And it’s the only truth that’s been confirmed to you all week.

Because the second you arrive home and see that you have a text waiting for you, your heart picks up. You hate the way you get excited to see it.

I had a really good time tonight.

And the second he comes back into your life, you’re reminded that you’re not over him. Not even in the slightest. And it’s fucking debilitating.

me too.

And you know your friends are going to kill you the second you follow up with:

i’m free friday if you want to grab a drink.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x you #ted lasso #ted lasso fanfic #jamie tartt fanfiction #bad ideas #the one who's not a loser but THEE loser #discowrites

497 notes · View notes

nevernonline · 10 months ago

Text

✧.* twenty-seven?; ksy

synopsis: you always wanted to be considered a ‘serious’ journalist, but to get the chance at moving up the ranks and getting to produce your own stories, you’re get an idea to do one final story and impress your boss, that’s where inspiration strikes with the one and only soonyoung.

part of my ninety minute movies one shot series. ♡︎

paring: hoshi x fem! reader.

genre: strangers2lvrs

warning/s:mentions of substances (alcohol, weed, cig, vape etc.) swearing, very bad jokes!, just fluffy and nice no seggsy time

word count: 8.4k

content: . non-idol idolings, some other svt members. hoshi is down bad fast xo.

note: my next little inspired movie writing is the icon that is 27 dresses. except instead of our female lead being the one in the wedding its my fav tiger (hamster) soony. I just love sappy cutie soonyoung so I apologize in advance. also unedited bc im a loser srry. it shouldn't be tew bad bc I tried to take my time lol. ily.

Finding a cozy spot at a table to the left of the bride and groom, you flipped open your notebook and started jotting down pin points on the decor, the flowers, the bride's beautiful flowing silk gown, and the way the groom looked at her with stars in his eyes.

The first dance song rang around the room gathering all the adorned looks of friends and family watching as another couple took the leap on spending the rest of their lives together.

A rocks glass was placed in front of your pen and paper as the chair next to her was suddenly filled with the stranger who put it there.

“Taking notes for your own wedding?”

“Oh. No, I'm doing a piece for the Daily on their wedding.”

“Are you y/n l/n by any chance?”

“I am. You’re familiar with me?”

“Yeah, just through the bride. She’s my sister. She talks about you nonstop. I’m Soonyoung, I was the one who contacted you.”

“I see. Nice to meet you. What’s the drink for?”

“Working hard, I figured you should at least enjoy yourself a little bit.”

“That’s nice. Thank you.”

Soonyoung stared at the girl across from him, trying to catch a peak at her notes seeing if she was painting this night in a perfect light.

You caught on and shut the book quietly, giving him a small wink as a shout it would be everything his sister wanted.

“What’s the drink?”

“A vodka soda, lemon.”

“So, you know my drink order? Thought you said you didn’t know who I was?”

“I saw you at a wedding a few weeks ago, my friend Seungkwan. I noticed your drink, that's all. That’s how I got your contact actually.”

“Lying on the first meet, a great sign. No wonder you look so familiar to me. You were the best man right? But blonde at the time?”

“My sister would’ve killed me if I was blonde at her wedding and sorry not lying just felt creepy admitting it.

“I liked it.”

Soonyoung laughed remembering the conversation he had with his sister about his hair.

“So what’s it like being in two weddings in one month, Soonyoung?”

“Actually I’m going to be in three. Next week my coworker is getting married. Which would make my wedding count twenty-six.”

“You’ve been to twenty-six weddings?”

“Yep. After next week anyway. What’s your wedding count?”

“Ones I’ve covered? Too many to count. Ones I’ve been in? Two I think. Both of my brothers are married. That’s about it.”

“So you cover weddings but aren’t married?”

Rolling your eyes at his unfiltered nature, you couldn’t help but feel like his question was out of curiosity and not judgment. The way his eyes searched hers for answers was genuinely adorable.

“Almost at one point, but he cheated on me and is marrying her now. I didn’t actually become a journalist to cover weddings anyway, it sort of just happened.”

“I see.”

“What about you? Being at all those weddings and never getting married?”

“No. Not even close, I was in love with the same girl for a long time, but she didn’t feel the same way.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

After spending the rest of your night enjoying Soonyoungs company, you bid goodbye to the bride and groom and headed back to your home to get down to working on the article.

Digging through your black leather tote you realize you forgot to take your journal home with you, leaving it on the white table cloth being distracted by a new friend.

Realizing you don’t have his number you took it upon yourself to stalk his social media profiles in hope you could find a way to get in contact with him, maybe he was your saving grace in taking your book for safekeeping until he could give it back to you.

Saying fuck it for now you just began typing away about your night, thanking god or whomever that you backed up your calendar digitally when you get a clever idea to write an article still about weddings, but about the person you met who had been a groomsmen all those times. Searching for any kind of photos and videos of his past times supporting nuptials.

All you came up with was a couple cheesing photos of him posing in his suits of many colors and types when you get the idea to go back into your own rolodex of photos and writings from weddings you’ve done in the past, noticing him standing near the bride and groom in just a few it was now safe to say he has piqued your interest even more than before.

You decided to draft an email to your boss begging for the chance to write her an article about the types of bridesmaids and groomsmen who’ve been involved in many years of weddings as a support, if you found one person who had done so many in a short time it wouldn’t be hard to find more right?

Before getting ready for bed you sat refreshing your email waiting for the go-ahead to investigate Soonyoung further with the excuse that it was simply just for work, it took multiple scrolls to the point where your thumb was starting to hurt from running it over the screen until she replied.

‘Y/n, feel free to start drafting up the story. If I like it I’ll let you have more creative articles in the future. Please have it on my desk in two weeks.’

When the morning finally arrived, you had to make the rough decision to get out of bed and head to grab a coffee from the shop in your apartment lobby. Normally you’d be cuddled on your couch with your cat, spending your Saturday morning reading and watching reruns of your favorite reality shows, but much to your surprise the coffee stash you usually have stocked has dried up.

Exiting the silver doors of the elevator a call came from the front desk attendant and you were met by a brown paper bag tied with a bow, the outside scribbled on with some crayons of silly faces and drawings of cartoon tigers, stickers of hello kitty, and a pink note taped to the handle.

“Miss. Y/l/n! Some boy dropped this for you last night.”

“Oh? Thank you, Max.”

Ripping open the small note in line for your morning brew, it instantly puts a smile on your face.

‘Hi, I noticed you left this on the table. Hope it’s not weird. I dropped it off for you. Your address was inside. At least I can stalk you now. - Soonyoung (wedding guy lol)”

Inside the bag was your planner and a few random pieces of candy thrown around. A small bookmark was placed on a page and written underneath was a date for next Thursday and the number of your new favorite subject marked ‘single seeking wedding date.’

After grabbing the paper cup from the barista behind the counter you whip your phone out and dial the number written inside your prized possession.

“Hello, is this the single seeking a date?”

“Hey, it is. Is this the cute girl who’s planner I found?”

“I think so? I don’t know any other cute girls who like going to weddings.”

“Are you available for drinks and a little pre-wedding party?”

“When?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight? Wow. Eager to see me again I see.”

“I am. And I’m being bold right now which is new for me, so please don’t make me cry.”

“Aw. But I’m sure you’re so pretty when you cry.”

“I’m always pretty, y/n. So?”

“Sure. Why not?”

You heard Soonyoung gasp over the phone and drop something loud.

“Really?”

“Want me to take it back?”

“No. Cool. I will.. pick you up at 6:30? We can get some drinks before and then it’s just like a casual party, but my friends are kind of fancy so maybe like nice cocktail attire. I’m sure you know.”

“Okay. I’m sure you remember where to find me? After all, you did confess to being a stalker.”

“Oh my god. I was kidding, don’t take me seriously. I’ll see you then.”

“See you, Soony. Ok now I’m corny. That wasn’t meant to be a pun. Bye.”

Hearing the boy's laughter over the phone almost gave you butterflies.

“You’re funny. Bye.”

Spending the rest of your normally relaxing afternoon getting ready to slyly interrogate your new friend, you decided to not go out of your way to look overly special after all you weren’t even sure this quote on quote date was anything romantic or just a way of initiating a friendship.

Just before you leave your front door you sat to think if it was appropriate to bring along the same journal that was delivered to you the same morning, but made the conscious decision to leave it behind and not make this first night getting to know each other about you digging into his life for your own gain.

The ride down the elevator had you inspecting yourself in its small safety mirror, fixing the very last strand of hair that felt out of place on your head, not paying any attention to the people jumping off and on from their various floors.

When you finally stepped out into the marble covered lobby, you immediately spotted Soonyoung draped over the side of the couch holding his legs close, almost like a nervous child looking around the room and pouting because he can’t find his toy.

When he finally locked eyes with you his childlike demeanor changed immediately into a spunky puppy, jumping up from his seat and dusting off crumbs on his pants that weren’t even there in the first place, maybe to wipe his hands from their small sweat they were undergoing.

“Hi, y/n. You look very nice”

“Really? So do you. Where are we headed?”

“There’s a cool poet themed bar just like two blocks from here, I thought you’d enjoy it since you’re a writer and everything.”

You looked at Soonyoung with wide eyes, it was a sign of how considerate he was yet again, just like the thought he put into bringing you, your planner and decorating the bag.

His sharp brown eyes sparkled under the street lights, almost like they were reflecting stars, his baggy khaki pants with matching jacket slung perfectly over his frame, he was cute. You could admit it to yourself that something about him was magnetic and you already wanted more.

“Y/n? Is that not your thing? I’m sorry we can do something else, I shouldn’t of assumed all writers like poetr-“

“Oh I’m sorry, I was distracted. Has anyone told you that you have insanely cute eyes? But yes, poetry’s cool. I’m more of a classic novel girl, but it sounds fun. Stop second guessing yourself. You’re good.”

Your hand moved faster than your brain as you brought it up to pat him gently on his shoulder, a confirmation that you were having a good time and trying to ease his awkwardness.

“Yeah, people have once or twice.”

“Good. They really are cute.”

The pink of Soonyoung’s cheeks grew into a deep red as he led you into the bar. The walls were covered in decaying pieces of paper written with words people had to get out for comfort. The smell was like the oldest library on earth, with a tinge of vanilla and vodka ringing through.

Your brain took a moment to be present and remember all of the bad dates of your past. Maybe this wasn’t a date of your future, but if it was, he had already exceeded your expectations.

As the waitress took your order, one Body Electric for your new friend a legit inspiration from Walt

Whitman to your choice which was a play on a Sylvia Plath poem.

“Are you a lightweight?”

You looked at Soonyojng not even halfway through his drink, feeling the ease and warmth of his body next

to you.

“How can you tell?”

“You relaxed for the first time tonight.”

“I was nervous to hangout with you. I’m sorry. You’re just cool and pretty and I don’t know I feel like you’re way smarter than me and I’m intimidated by that sober”

“I’m sure that’s not true. But if it’s any help I was nervous too.”

“Really? So I have game?”

“No. But you’re so cute I’d die if I hurt your feelings.”

“So you’re a lightweight too?”

“What? No way. Just honest to a fault.”

Soonyoung smiled into the rim of his glass before taking his final sip and prompting you to finish your drink quickly, which you happily obliged.

“Okay, on the way there.. I have to admit something. The party we’re going to is for the girl I liked before she got with this guy… it’s like unrequited love in a way.”

“The girl you said you don’t love anymore?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry I dragged you into this. I just wanted to see you again so I thought it was a good idea.”

“I’m down. I’m not sure what, but I’m down.”

“Cool.”

“Want me to pretend to be your girlfriend? Or? I feel like it would be weird to say we were on a first date.”

“Is this a date?”

“Is it not?”

“It was meant to be and it definitely is now.”

“So pretend girlfriend, Soony?”

“Maybe not an official girlfriend, how about… fourth date?”

“Okay, have we had sex?”

Soonyoung choked on his own spit which caused the two of you to end up in a fit of laughter on the street as you reached your next destination.

“Obviously.”

“That’s fair. I’ll tell everyone you were good.”

“I think I love you.”

“Shut up.”

After spending the night waltzing around and parading your further long relationship with your fake new boyfriend to his friends in hopes to prove his fondness for his newest engaged friend has gone away even slightly.

While maybe you were pretending to be on a date with Soonyoung, your head was spinning. If this was a fake date it was better than any date you had previously. Stepping outside to take a break from the party inside you pulled out your phone, jotting down notes and small nuggets of information you learned about Soonyoung’s past wedding experiences.

“Taking notes on me? What are you a PI?”

Behind you, you hadn’t realized the door you snuck out of opened and the boy had followed behind, curious if you were okay.

“Yeah, you’re under investigation for being overly nice. Sorry.”

“What do they say? I didn’t read them, just saw my name.”

“Just some antidotes I want to remember. Nothing crazy.”

“Do you want to leave? I’m starting to reach my alcohol limit and I would rather die than have you see my drunk alter ego the first time we hung out.”

“Yeah, come on, let's go.”

Going back through the back exit, you tripped behind Soonyoung’s tall frame grabbing onto his shoulder and giggling before he stood in the way of you hitting the ground.

His lips were curled into a goofy smile.

“I swear to god if you say something about me falling for you, you will get punched.”

“How did you know?”

“That fucking goofy smile you have on your face right now, I could just see it brewing in that head of yours.”

“Okay, I don’t like that you’ve already figured me out. Let’s go, klutz.”

Before you and Soonyoung could exit back into the fresh air, a familiar face appeared in front of you. Your ex boyfriend. Something about this night clicked for you, it was his party, there were so many people around and the only person from the wedding party you met was the bride. But taking a breath in and looking around the room, you realized how stupid you were to not see all the signs that this party was for him.

“Y/n? Hoshi? Hey, how have you guys been?”

Soonyoung still holding his arm around your shoulder gave a small back and fourth look between you and the tall boy who knew your name.

“You guys know each other?”

“Yep. Hi, Jihoon.”

“I didn’t know you knew Hoshi either?”

“Oh well we just started dating, he invited me to come hangout.”

“Dating? Wow. I didn’t know you had time for people outside of work anymore.”

“Jihoon, if you don’t mind we have to go now. Thank you for the open bar and this amazing time chatting, congratulations on marrying your hookup. Goodnight.”

The start of your walk with Soonyoung was pure silence, there was an obvious elephant in the room and you could tell he was just itching to talk about it, so you decided to prompt him.

“You’re curious aren’t you.”

“Yes. But I don’t want to ask you to talk about it because we’re having fun. So I figured I’d try to ignore it.”

“It’s fine. I’m curious too actually, it’s kind of funny that the girl you liked was hooking up with my boyfriend and now they’re married. And by funny I mean actually funny and we just spent the whole night not knowing that.”

“I didn’t even know that Jihoon had a girlfriend when they first met, he never said anything about it.”

“I don’t blame him actually, I do work way too much. I just wished he’d broken up with me instead of cheating on me for a month.”

“When did you guys break up?”

“Last December.”

“Oh.”

“It was more than a month wasn’t it?”

“I think so.”

“Cool, cool, cool.”

“That’s fucked up y/n, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay, we weren’t supposed to be together and his new girlfriend or future wife whatever seems like she’s really nice.”

“She is, but she’s too nice. She does everything he wants, maybe he couldn’t handle your independence.”

“Soony. You caught on that I’m a bad bitch?”

“Have you met yourself?”

“No. But, if I did I’d be obsessed with her and hate her at the same time.”

“That’s exactly how I feel.”

You punched his side, before stopping and realizing you had come up to your front door. Not even worried about the way your feet were aching to get out of your heeled shoes.

“This is me.”

“I know. I’ve been here like three times now in less than twenty-four hours. I’m starting to believe you actually think I’m stupid.”

“Not stupid. Just silly. I’ll see you again right?”

“I mean I did put days on your calendar to schedule out time for me.”

“You littl-“

Suddenly you were cut off by Soonyoung’s hand covering your mouth to put a stop to you cursing him out.

“I won’t take no for an answer.”

Sinking your teeth into his hand he retreated from his momentary confidence quickly, looking at the proud smile you were sporting, pointing your well manicured finger in his face.

“Don’t tell women to shut up, Soony.”

“I never said shut up, you were going to call me a mean name and I’m sensitive. Go back to calling me cute.”

“Maybe. Next time.”

You went in for a one armed hug when all of the sudden Soonyoung came in with both arms, clinking your heads together.

“Very smooth.”

He liked the fact that you constantly teased him while making light of situations, regaining his confidence he pulled you into his embrace enveloping both arms around your shoulders, placing a small kiss on the part of your forehead that crashed into his.

“I’ll see you next week.”

“What’s next week?”

“The wedding, check your planner. Well actually I’ll see you in two nights because we have to shop or go through your closet so we can match! Bye, y/nie.”

Caught off guard by the kiss on your head and watching him hail a cab like it was nothing, you couldn’t help but smile on your way into your building, met by Max at the front desk beaming as wide as you and giving you a wink. Knowing that he saw the cute and awkward interaction you shared with the hyper hamster outside.

The two days in between you and Soonyoung’s first official interaction, you felt yourself looking forward to seeing him again and being in his presence like your own personal serotonin boost.

The insane fact that your ex was marrying the girl he cheated on was enough, but the girl being Soonyoung’s painful crush? Especially when you felt he was becoming yours was beyond insane.

You made up separate drafts of your article about the people who make weddings shine, from the families, the bridal parties. the insane bachelor and bachelorette nights, and mainly Soonyoung’s love for love.

The two works of nonfiction were from different perspectives, one being your head and one being your heart. You couldn’t decide if it was appropriate to present a piece basically claiming how amazing you found Soonyoung for the whole world to see when you’re not even sure if he’d ever consider you to be more than a silly writer girl y/n, his friend or fake girlfriend. Your other was from the space of practicality, a genuine love letter to your career and the person who inspired this story, but also digging deep into the ideals of how frantic and selfish the wedding industry can be and what it means for an unmarried friend to take in burdens constantly for their loved ones when it takes a toll on their own heart.

The biggest debate in your body was the fact the real article, the one you wanted to write, was at the fault of someone who had only in the short space of two days made you feel again, but it was honest and genuine.

You knew Soonyoung had to have some pain working and being a part of a wedding for the girl he saw himself marrying.

Luckily you have another few days to decide which way it’ll go.

Sitting on the thought of what one you should put out, you were awoken out of your thought bubble to a string of buzzes from your cell phone sitting face down on your desk.

None other than the boy that had been living in your head for the past 48 hours.

Soonyoung’s texts were multiple lines of photos and silly messages asking you which outfit he should wear that could match any of the dresses you had hanging in your closet for the wedding.

One of the options was a beige suit, simple in theory but something about the way he styled it with a funky sage green t-shirt and matching sneakers made you smile. Even if you didn’t have anything to match this outfit you would make an effort to go out and spruce up your wardrobe to be on his level.

After quickly responding that it was your choice, he retorted back in his true fashion you’d have to send him your options too or he’d come over to help you.

In a desperate subconscious way you agreed to his antics.

Now nearly an hour later a call came from the front desk that a visitor had arrived asking for consent he could come upstairs which you happily agreed assuming it was none other than Soonyoung himself. The person on the opposite side of the door was not the sharp eyed boy you’d expected, but Jihoon.

“Why are you here?”

“I wanted to see you after the other night, I just wanted to say hey.”

“Okay? Then text me. Don’t come over unannounced, I have a friend I’m expecting.”

“You wouldn’t have responded.”

“That’s true.”

Standing with your arms crossed in your doorway not letting Jihoon into the now redecorated apartment you once had let him live in, you weren’t budging on your gut feeling to let him in and talk.

“Can I come in?”

“Like I said. I’m expecting a friend. So.. no.”

“Who? Hoshi? You guys aren’t seriously together? He’s not your type, too goofy.”

“Isn’t he your friend?”

“He’s Nana’s friend, but he’s okay. I’m just saying it's not your style.”

Nana? A stupid nickname for his fiance who’s name was simply Anna. So as you rolled your eyes and shut your apartment door behind you as you stepped into the hallway as a clear defining factor he was not welcome you stood far apart from him as a line in the sand.

“He’s not goofy. He’s sweet and yes he’s on his way so maybe you should leave before saying anything else so he doesn’t get the wrong idea.”

Jihoon wavered a bit, looking towards the elevator door at the end of the hall as if like a movie Soonyoung would walk out of the elevator at the mention he was on his way over.

“Maybe take the stairs. I’ll see you at your wedding with my date.”

Rushing in and slamming the door in his face, you sink to the floor in a moment of pure exhaustion over interacting with someone like your ex.

Why wasn’t Soonyoung right for you? Why did you not want that to be true? And why were you so dead set on proving him absolutely wrong?

In your rush of emotions another knock came to your door. Without looking through the peephole you swung it open rapidly.

“Look I told you to g- oh, Soonyoung! Thank god.”

Your body made a move before your head could even catch up as you ended up hugging him tightly, rushing him inside as if Jihoon didn’t get the message and was watching in from a hidden spot in the corridor.

“Y/N are you okay?”

“Yes. Sorry, someone just came over that I did not want to see. Welcome.”

You watched as his eyes took in the view of your pink and green splattered apartment, things like funky vases full of wildflowers, plant tendrils floating down from shelves tucked between books of various sizes and ages, a small nook with sleeping white and black cat hid inside snuggling into his stuffed toy.

“I love it here.”

“Really? I redecorated recently, it was cold before. I love it now.”

“Also it smells amazing, do you bake? It smells like cookies and coffee. Wow.”

“I do not bake, but I do have candles that give the illusion. What’s in the bag?”

Soonyoung set a small black duffle bag down on the counter and began pulling the contents out one by one, showing them off like a beauty guru.

Wine, five small bags of potato chips, beer Incase you didn’t like wine and he was unsure, a slice of delicious looking chocolate cake, and a container marked with your name of his moms homemade soup.

“Why did you do this?”

“I thought we would have fun while picking out matching outfits. Will you let me see your closet? Please, please, please. I’m so curious.”

“It’s not that impressive at all.”

“If your apartment looks like this then I have only the highest expectations for you.”

Smiling, you jokingly made a come on motion with your fingers and led him into your spare bedroom that now existed as a half home office and half closet.

His eyes took in even more of your fun design work, the racks of records, pictures of you and your friends, and one of the things that made him feel like he could fall in love with you, your rack full of limited edition shoes and bags.

“Not impressive? You have some of the coolest shit I’ve ever seen in here?”

“I’m just a girl with a cat and a lot of time on my hands. Since being single I’ve just spent it on shopping and ordering take out.”

“If you don’t mind me asking what were you and Jihoon like together? You guys seem really opposite to me.”

There it was again, someone not right for you. Was it just in your head that you think maybe you’re the problem of why this comment is being made?

“Uh, we were okay at first. We met in college about three weeks before graduation and spent so much time together. But if I think about it, we just hung out in his dorm where I watched him play video games and watch anime even though I was not interested. I kind of wish I was more outspoken about it. I missed a bunch of things my friends had done wasting away on his futon drinking shitty cheap alcohol and waiting on him hand and foot and whatever else.”

“Really? So you guys dated for a long time I guess. Did it change a lot once you got out?”

“Not really. A lot of people knew we were ‘dating’ but in the time that we did, we probably went on one or two actual dates.”

“That makes me sad actually.”

“Why? I made the choice to do all those things. At least I don’t have an ugly poster of John Lennon on my wall just to show I loved him.”

Soonyoung was set off by that, laughing and imagining you having a photo of a musician on your wall to impress your boyfriend.

“What’s so funny? Haven’t you done anything embarrassing to impress a girl?”

“Definitely. Too many to choose from actually.”

“At least you're charming, I came off as obsessive and stupidly in love. Not a good look for me.”

“Caring too much is never a bad thing when you think you’re in love and you’re charming too.”

“Why thank you good sir.”

“And you’re weird. Which personally is a green flag for me. I didn’t expect that from you actually.”

“Is that a compliment though, really?”

“For me? Yes. I don’t like normal people well, not normal people I guess, just people who have no personality or something I can learn from. I want someone as a friend or whatever else to challenge me a little, it’s healthy.”

“I think that’s really cool of you, I agree. I like people that are willing to try new stuff or get me out of my comfort zone.”

“Was showing me your office a way of me getting you out of your comfort zone?”

“Sort of. This is kind of like my safe haven.”

Soonyoung just gave you a wide toothed smile, beaming from ear to eat that you admitted he was even just slightly somewhat of your type.

As the night went on and on the boy that has now broken down a couple of your walls, not quickly but brick by brick was sitting comfortably next to your cat curled up in the same manor helping you pick out something that would go with his two outfits, one for the wedding itself and one for the rehearsal dinner which he promised you that you’d only eat and leave to have more fun just out of respect for the couple and his friend Anna.

Now each of you taking the bottle of wine he brought slowly, sitting on your floor surrounded by shoes and loose pairs of pants, giggling over nothing he stared in your eyes almost like you could read that he had another interrogating question.

“Was Jihoon the one at the door before?”

“How did you kno–”

“I can’t remember you mentioning anybody that would come over unannounced and make you look as upset as you did.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know why he was here?”

“He just gave me some stupid antidote that he wanted to see me after the other day, I didn’t ask further. When I told him I had a friend coming over he just knew it was you for some reason and then told me we couldn’t be dating seriously because you’re not my type? As if he’d know? It was weird all around.”

“Do you still have feelings for him?”

“No. I realized once we broke up and now after knowing he was cheating on me more than a few nights that it was an amazing decision. When we first ended it I just kicked him out and ghosted all his texts, he used to update me on his life every now and again, the last time we talked for real, before today he called me crying that his Grandmother was sick, so we just had a brief talk and it ended for real there. I genuinely never thought I’d see him again.”

“Also, am I your type?”

Ss wine dribbled down your chin you were once again surprised by Soonyoung’s random fit of confidence.

“Yeah. You’re nice and I love how annoying you are. I think you get under my skin in the best way.”

“Wow. I’m surprised you admitted it.”

“What can I say, wine drunk y/n is honest.”

“And what about my physical type? Sexy, cool, handsome, the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen?”

Taking a note from his book you swung your closest arm to him, you clipped your fingers over his mouth and shut him up.

Much to your surprise he took a note from your book and instead of biting your hand he stuck his tongue through his lips and licked your fingers which caused you to lunge towards him further, jokingly pissed he did just so.

As you were fighting for comedic relief you sat suddenly face to face with him holding onto your wrists to resist more thrash fighting.

The two of you stared at each other filling the room with intense tension of your lips being so close once again.

“If I knew you wouldn’t be mad at me I’d kiss you right now.”

“Soonyoung, you’re so stupid. Why would I be mad at you?”

“So I can kiss you?”

“Nope.”

Soonyoung pushed his bottom lip out from his top, replacing his cute puppy face with a pouty one.

You decided to quickly dive in and pace a peck on his protruding bottom lip.

He immediately let you go and erupted into a fit of giggles like a little kid, as you tried to sneak away quickly he grabbed onto the arm of your sweatshirt which you quickly unzipped and slipped out of, running through the door of your office and into the rest of the house as he chased behind.

“You have to know I’m going to catch you for that, that was so mean y/n.”

As you were winning the fight, getting away from the boy chasing you around, you suddenly tripped up and felt his hand grasp your shoulder, turning you around with secret strength.

Standing face to face with him now, your stubbed toe throbbing through your fuzzy socks, you both were holding in a whole lot of laughter.

Soonyoung’s hand slipped behind your head and pulled you in for a much more romantic type of kiss than you gave him before. The two of you touched lips softly, as your smiles were still prominent on your faces.

Before anything could escalate further your phone began to ring again and your boss's name was plastered over the front, which you answered with panting breaths still in a haze from kissing the boy you made you feel young again.

“y/n? Hi, would you be able to send over a draft of your article you begged me for? We were looking for something to print for tomorrow if you’re interested? I’ll have someone expedite the editing process tonight.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah of course, I’ll rush and email it to you now.”

“Thank you, congratulations y/n.”

“Thank you. Bye.”

Oh my god, Soony, stay here. I have to email my boss quickly about my article, she wants to print it for tomorrow's paper. I’ll be right back.”

“What? Congratulations. But don't worry, I’m not leaving.”

“Good, sorry, be right back.”

Rushing back into your office you flipped open your computer and sent your final article draft, choosing the one that your gut felt would be better for your personal life at the moment, especially after the kiss you just shared with the boy it was about.

Typing a quick message along with your attachment you just said a big thank you and clicked send before grabbing the half drank bottle off the floor and ran back to Soonyoung munching on a bag of chips waiting for you.

“Shall we celebrate?”

“What are we celebrating?”

“Me, idiot. I’ve been trying to get a real article published ever since I got the job doing weddings. I love weddings, but always being so happy and cheerful and not getting a chance to stretch my creative juices is frustrating.”

“Can we also celebrate kissing? That seems more fun.”

“Shut up, asshole.”

Taking a swig from the bottle, you passed it over to your male counterpart and watching him take an equally large drink matching your energy.

You and Soonyoung spent the rest of the night talking about how tomorrow will go, where will you and he be sitting, will Jihoon be giving you side eyes or talking shit with some of the other guests. How nice of a chance it’ll be to experience a wedding simply just enjoying with someone on your side and not for work.

After sitting in bed and still thinking about your kiss with Soonyoung many hours later, you saw a text from your boss letting you know she loved the article and to watch out for it in the morning.

When that finally rolled around, you woke up to a lot of messages congratulating you and your new found success, many people from college, your parents, but the one person you were looking for was nowhere to be found in those texts.

Putting the praise aside for a moment, you slipped back out of your bed to jump into the shower and start getting ready for your dinner celebrating the devil that was your ex.

When you stepped out and went to grab onto your device once again you saw a text from the one person you were most excited to read, but it was less than exciting. Soonyoung expressed how upset the article made him and accused you of using him to further your career, something Jihoon supposedly warned him of the night of his pre-wedding party and he chose to ignore.

Confused why he would be so upset about your praise for him, you ran to your front door and ripped open the pages of the paper only to find the article that you sent was a mistake, it was the one shitting on weddings, basically claiming Soonyoung himself was an unmarried loser, not in those words but you could see why it came across that way. Some of the simple moments of praise for his hard work were cut out in the editing room, only leaving the small bits of gossip and harsh criticisms sprinkled in between.

Rushing back inside as your stomach sank to the floor you tried his number three times before getting no answer. Which made you frantically dial your boss’s number and interrogate her on why parts of your article were cut out, she simply answered that fluff doesn’t sell and she was proud of you.

Soonyoung not responding had let you in on the fact that he wasn’t going to be seeing you today or maybe even seeing anybody for that matter, he was embarrassed and rightfully so.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Continuing your quest on trying to reach him, you decided to still get ready for your night out, maybe not in the intense matching outfit way you wanted to last night, but just something where you could sneak into Jihoon’s wedding party and slide Soonyoung the real article you wanted him to read.

Running down the street to the venue with no accurate directions in sight, you saw your ex standing on a corner, smoking a brown wrapped joint in his suit.

“Jihoon. Jihoon.”

“What? Back to grovel for a favor?”

“Yes, please, just give this to Soonyoung for me. Please, I’ve never asked you for a favor like this, just once do something for me.”

“You’re really serious about him?”

“I am.”

“So you didn’t mean to slam him in the article like you did?”

“No. My boss cut out the good parts of the article, this was the one I meant to send. Just for me. I want you to be happy, Jihoon, I do. I want it for myself too, just please give it to him. Make sure he reads it.”

“Okay.”

“I know we haven’t had the best past and I know I'm coming here askin- Wait? Okay? Really?”

“Yeah. I can tell this means a lot to you and the reason I came over today was just to formally invite you to the wedding. You’re a big part of my life and now Soonyoung’s, well maybe, besides the point. My fiance is one of his best friends, she liked you too, that was the only reason.”

“Oh. Well I don’t think I’ll make it.”

“How about you come on official business and give this to him yourself?”

“No. I couldn’t do that. It’s your day not mine.”

“We both deserve a big love, y/n.”

Taking back your enveloped letter, you couldn’t help but be impressed by how mature Anna had made Jihoon become and you knew he was right. Sometimes love just falls in your lap and you can’t do anything about it.

Ashing out his joint, he handed you the other half as an olive branch to celebrate old times and bid you goodbye until tomorrow.

Before going back inside, he turned to you with one final wish.

“You better look damn good tomorrow too, no suits. Wear something nice to confess your feelings, otherwise you’ll look like a dumbass.”

“Got it.”

Catching your breath and shoving the letter and paraphernalia back into your purse, you decided to take Jihoon’s advice. To look amazing, you stumbled upon a shop called ‘All's Well that Ends Well.’ situation just a block down from the poetry inspired bar Soonyoung took you to just a few days before.

Stepping inside the store, the first thing you saw was a navy blue dress, the halter neckline and the silk straight flowing down to the floor, you knew it was meant for you. Especially because it would match the light pink suit Soonyoung was meant to be sporting with you by his side. The easiest shopping experience of your life.

As the sales associate packed your order up and sealed it with a light pink bow, you knew it was a sign or something of the sort.

With less than twenty-four hours of doing the most insane thing of your life, confessing to a man who essentially hated you after you had been kissing just hours before, you stayed up all night, using the weed that Jihoon gave you to stay focused on the task at hand, you almost considered cutting of your hair to enter a new era of your life, but only girls who were going through something would consider that and you attempted to tell yourself you were calm.

When the morning sun rang around you finished writing a letter to match the one already placed in the envelope to accompany your sorry. You even decorated the outside with stickers of tigers and spongebob characters just to make Soonyoung smile.

Sliding into your navy blue dress and silver heels, your hair was down and curled into perfect waves. You kissed your cat on the head and made your way over to the venue by foot, just to give yourself a little fresh air and piece of mind, hoping to slip in early enough so that you’d be seated before he even knew you came.

Slipping into a space near the back of the room on Jihoon’s side, you opened your phone to an encouraging text from him telling you that you’ve got this and he’s excited to hear more about it later, plus reminding you to have fun and enjoy yourself.

As the progression started you watched along with the other wedding goers, catching glimpses of Jihoon’s smiling family, which made your heart feel warm.

As the wedding part waltz down the aisle in their pastel pink suits and rosy toned dresses, you saw a now blonde again head appear on the arm of a girl who looked a lot like Anna, so it was fair to assume it was her sister.

Soonyoung didn’t glance your way, but something about the change in his demeanor made you aware he knew you had come.

“Everyone please rise for the bride.”

Anna walked out with her father on her arm, floating across the room like an angel in white. Her dress was adorned with small beaded flowers from the tips of her fingers down to the vail over her blonde hair.

She was truly beautiful, you couldn’t help but feel like a peasant in the room with this woman who both of the men you had either once had feelings for or now did once loved.

The whole ceremony was beautiful, but you missed a lot of it as you stared Soonyoung’s way trying to catch his eyes, but he never met yours. He was too busy enjoying the fact that his friends were getting married and the fact you had upset him.

When the ceremony ended you followed the other guests to the front of the church, holding your envelope in your hand and greeting the bride and groom, Anna and Jihoon beamed at you before she pointed her finger to a room off the side of the front door, some sort of administration office where Soonyoung would be waiting for you. Which also told you Jihoon had filled her in on your little plan.

You cracked open the old wooden door, trying to be subtle but the rotting wood creaked under the old floor boards making your entrance more known than you would’ve liked.

Soonyoung was seated in a red leather chair to the side of the desk, his now blonde hair meeting your eyes before his face. Not giving in to turn around and look at you.

“Soonyoung? I know you probably don’t want to speak to me. But, this was the real article. It was never meant to be that way. I’m sorry.”

You placed the letter in front of him on the desk and moved to turn back to the door before you heard his voice.

“So you didn’t mean all those mean things you wrote about me? That I was a desperate groomsman waiting for his shot to have a day for himself?”

“No.”

“You didn’t mean to say that my ostentatious nature was cringe worthy?”

“Not in that way no, my boss cut out all the good things I said about you. She put it in her own words for dramatic effect. I quit this morning.”

“You quit? Why?”

“I wanted to try to make this right in the best way I could, she wouldn’t reprint the article how I wrote it and told me that if I didn’t like her style I should get a job somewhere else. So I quit.”

Soonyoung just nodded, he couldn’t imagine why you would give up a golden opportunity just to prove your boss wrong or right for that matter all because of him. The only way he could make sense of what you were saying is that you were truly sorry and you cared about him.

He made a bold move and threw the letter in the trash can to the side of the old oak desk and got out of his chair to hug you.

“You’re not going to read it.”

Speaking into his shoulder, you got a calming exhale of his cologne.

“I don’t need to. I know you're telling me the truth, you said it yourself you don’t lie when you drink wine, and I can smell it on your breath.”

Slipping your hands up from their place around his neck into his hair you giggled slightly, looking at the now dyed blonde locks of hair.

“You dyed it back?”

“You said you liked it. I thought you’d be my date and I had the appointment so I didn’t want to cancel.”

“You weren’t hoping I’d show up here?”

“I knew you would. I saw you talking to Jihoon outside last night through the window. I wasn’t sure exactly because you did walk away and he never told me what happened. But, when I saw you today sitting in the crowd. I knew my inkling was right.”

“Did the cohesive outfit impress you? I missed one night, but I hope I made up for it today.”

Soonyoung pushed you away slightly by your shoulders and made you do a spin for him.

“You look beautiful.”

“You’re such a dork.”

Soonyoung playfully swung you around in the office covered in photos of church go-ers and crosses, bringing you into his chest tightly.

“So, what did you write in that article? That I was devilishly handsome and cool?”

“Nope. Just that you were a bad kisser.”

“Seems like you need a reminder.”

“Maybe.”

As your lips met Soonyoungs once again your heart sank into your stomach and was beating rapidly. You just fit and he never once doubted your heart.

“What do you say? Should we go outside and dance?”

“Can you even dance?”

“Y/n? Can I even dance? What do you even think I do for a living?”

“Oh. I’m such an idiot. Anna works at a talent agency. Got it.”

“Come on, silly. Before our audience outside gets bigger.”

When you exited the office back into the group of people outside, for some reason Jihoon started a cheer alongside his new wife.

Soon you and Soonyoung were dancing the night away and drinking a little too much than your stomachs could handle.

When you finally got a moment of dizzy drunkenness alone, he had you sitting on a bench where he knelt to the ground. Your mouth got the better of you once again.

“Oh my god you're not proposing already are you I mean I know I’m amaz-”

“Y/n shut up, I’m tying my shoe.”

“Cool, cool. Got it.”

“But the next wedding I attend hopefully I’ll be the groom.”

With a wink Soonyoung sat back at your side as you watched the stars together, making a mental note that the next wedding would belong to the both of you.

taglist: @sahazzy

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herefortheships · 1 month ago

Note

You want another movie 3 speculation?

Ok, so I firmly believe that Lydia's dream at the end points to her subconscious worry that Betelgeuse might move on from her (and MacArthur Park is a song about moving on as best as you can after losing True Love) and target Astrid. With a compounding, and imo deeply fascinating, worry that her daughter (whom the movie/Delia seems to have cast as being very similar to Lydia, though personally I don't see it cause she seems too normal) might be happy with that. And I think that the bed-sharing might've been her brain - or B himself - pointing out the solution to that worry: Just give tf in and marry him already.

As an aside, a lot of Youtube synopses of that movie have AI-generated thumbnails of Betelgeuse threateningly/creepily hovering over Astrid, even though they barely interacted. Apparently lots if people's minds went there, at least for the sake of clickbait. Ffs, a guy tries to marry a teenager ONE time...

Anyway I think it would be hilarious if in movie 3 Lydia gets into trouble and Astrid calls on Betelgeuse for help, telling him she'll pay whatever he wants if only he saves her last remaing parent/family member, and he just goes: "Can you put in a good word with your Mom for me? Like, really talk me up. I didn't make the greatest first impression, and there were misunderstandings, and I don't think I'll have a shot if she thinks you'd disapprove" " I do disapprove!" "Well, just focus on the positives! Awesome powers, saved your life, has a massive di-... actually, forget about that last one. I mean, it's true, but wouldn't be helpful if you mentioned it."

So then they save Lydia, who'd be deeply, deeply worried bc her daughter seems to think B is a pretty cool guy actually, a woman could do worse for a husband. He's fun, he's helpful, he saved them, there's worse-looking dead people. So naturally, she'd find Betelgeuse and be like "If I marry you, will you leave her alone?" ...j/k, she'd try to exorcise him. We need spunky!Lydia back. She may be kind, but there are limits.

Mid-exorcism, Astrid clears up the misunderstanding about what sort of deal she's under, that he saved Lydia because he loves Lydia and without asking for anything bad in return, and points out that her deal didn't make her lie about B's good points. Lydia stops the exorcism via last-minute Green Card marriage. Betelgeuse does a whole triumphant, manic spiel about looking forward to moving in and starting married life. But first he's got to fetch some of his stuff (hc that he has just... so many clothes in an infinite magical wardrope somewhere). He draws a door with chalk, knocks, steps through. Walks slowly through the long, uneven hallway. Turns around to look back. Astrid whispers "If you took a step in there right now..." (Code 699) and Lydia goes "Yeah I know. [then, much louder] C'mon, let's ready the guest bedroom." *

We see Betelgeuse break out into a happy smile for a sec before the door slams shut.

*I don't think it would be believable if a movie ended with them being in passionate sappy Gomez-and-Morticia love. But there's no way that Betelgeuse³ will end without Lydia agreeing to keep him around. On a trial basis. With the understanding that she has the means to get rid of him if he misbehaves too much (he'll misbehave just the right amount).

It's an interesting headcanon that Lydia might have a subconscious fear about Betelgeuse making a move on Astrid. I've seen a few people mention it as well. It wouldn't be too far off to get to that conclusion, either, because of Lydia's past experience. Betelgeuse also had that flyer up in the attic just lying around. We as the audience know he likely put it out there for Lydia to find, because we saw him staring at her photo and talking to Bob earlier about how he's in a distant relationship with Lydia. We saw him trying to make contact and feeling triumphant because she might have finally noticed him that last time.

But Lydia doesn't have access to that info.; only we as the audience are privy to who Betelgeuse is actually after and how dead set he is on it, too. Only Lydia is the object of Betelgeuse's desires, even after thirty years. It wouldn't be a stretch to conclude that Lydia might fear Betelgeuse would go after her daughter, because at first she didn’t know what Betelgeuse was truly after; for all she knew, he’s still just looking for a way to get out and do evil mischief on the world of the living or whatever she thinks will happen if he’s out.

I personally don't think this is a fear she took with her at the end of the film, though. I think she has it clear now how Betelgeuse feels about her, and that he wouldn’t do something to her daughter. She might have thought it was a pretense before, or him being totally crazy, but after that dance mid-air, there's no way she doesn't know how he feels.

I think Babyjuice coming out of Astrid was just Betelgeuse turning Lydia's dream into a nightmare; a prank letting her know he hasn't left and he isn't planning on leaving her (he even thought it was strange himself lol). But yes, Lydia keeping a lingering fear about Betelgeuse going for Astrid is a solid headcanon as well, though it’s not my interpretation.

I know there are edits of Astrid wearing wedding clothes and Betelgeuse being creepy with her, but many of those were created before the movie was out, by people who thought the movie would be about Betelgeuse going after Astrid.

About Astrid putting up a good word for Betelgeuse with Lydia, that would be part of my dream-come-true story for Beetlejuice 3. I just want to see them explore Betelgeuse and Astrid's relationship as stepfather and stepdaughter. I think they'd get along great. As I've said before, Astrid hasn't really met Betelgeuse yet; she only knows two things about him: according to her mom, he's bad news. And yet, he helped save her life, and all it was going to cost was her mom marrying him and not being able to say his name (though he's totally chill with her calling him her "dad", which I totally love and will always bring it up 😂💜).

I wish the movie will end with Lydia and Betelgeuse being finally married, or at least together in love, but I'll accept them not getting married as well, as long as they’re on the way there as friends who may fall in love, and Lydia doesn't end up banishing him yet again or squirming out of another marriage deal. That'd be repetitive at that point. As for Betelgeuse being banished forever or destroyed, that will totally never happen; Tim, Michael, and especially the WB wouldn't allow that to happen. Not only do Tim and Michael love Betelgeuse, he's also a money-maker and widely beloved character for the WB, so it'd be dumb for them to end the movie with Betelgeuse being sent away forever or perma-killed.

To end my ramblings, I totally love the idea of Astrid and Betelgeuse working together in the next one and Astrid helping her mom see the good in him/putting a good word in for him. That'd be fun to watch.

I do have a feeling lately that if the do make the third part (which is looking more likely every day), they will be taking it in the direction of establishing Lydia, Betelgeuse, and Astrid as a family. I'm getting that vibe because I've seen an official promo TikTok about Astrid's family being strange, which kinda hints at Lydia and Betelgeuse being Astrid's family/her parents. Not to mention, the DVD cover photo has those three front and center, instead of having something like Betelgeuse big in the middle and the Deetz women all together below or something like that; a choice was made to have Lydia, Betelgeuse, and Astrid together front and center. Those little details have me like 👀, I'm getting a vibe that we're being led to see them as a family. But don't take my words for fact, it's just what I'm observing.

Thank you for sending me your speculations! I love and appreciate exchanging ideas with everyone. 💚✨

#Beetlejuice 3 headcanons #Beetlejuice 3 hopes #Beetlejuice Beetlejuice #Beetlejuice #Beetlebabes #Beetlejuice x Lydia #Betelgeuse x Lydia #Beetlejuice found family #Betelgeuse Lydia and Astrid #Anon #Anon questions #anonymous questions #answers #Beetlejuice meta #Things I write

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thesuperiorrobin · 1 year ago

Text

Untitled

Pairing: Damian Wayne x Fem!reader

Word count: 1.0k

Warning: none

A/N: also reminder all my requests have been completely deleted after I had gotten a new phone. I’ll open up requests later I just don’t know when. I’m a bit disappointed in myself bc I didn’t get to them sooner. So again sorry if your requests won’t be done anytime soon.

You’re never the first to call.

Most of the time it’s Damian.

Damian needs something in his life that no one in his family could give him. They could, but it wouldn’t be the same if he got it from you. You’re in your room, it’s late. Too late where the streets of Gotham have gone silent—and that alone should say something. You're humming a song of your choice that plays in the background of your bedroom as you sew up a piece of your jacket that you had accidentally ripped when you were out during the day. The music cuts off as your phone beside you starts to ring. It’s a facetime call.

incoming call 🩷🗡️Damian🩷🗡️….:

You’re quick to answer it… pressing the green button as you propped up your phone up against a couple of books you had laying around on your small desk you sat at so he could get a better view of you. There’s a smile on your face when he shows up. I'm your view on the phone. He’s laying down on his bed looking tired and beaten. Damian had just gotten back from a night of patrol before he decided to call you.

“Hi!” You great, he greets you back with a quiet hello “what are you doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing” you hum as you focus back on your jacket.

“Well, my excuse is I took a nap— at like—I don’t know-five? Maybe six? Anyway I woke up not even an hour ago. So I’ll be up the entire night” you laugh at yourself softly “What about you? Why are you up?” He’s quiet for a moment, and that worries you. He says nothing for a few scones seconds, you look up and stare at your phone—staring at his reflection on the other side of your device. There’s something about him that you can’t read well. And that says something because you could usually read off his emotions based on his expression.

“Just got done with patrol” he finally speaks and you nod slowly “how was your day beloved?” A question that’s quick to get you.

Damian loves listening to you talk about your day, even if it was just you doing absolutely nothing. You are quick with your answer.

“I didn’t do much! I only went to the mall today with a friend and let me tell you—twenty-five dollars in this economy ain’t shit. I think I spend around one hundred dollars? I think and I only went to like three stores but I still have money left over. Also Victoria secret underwear is not for the weak at all. They’re cute but some of them are just eh—not made for wearing them all day—“ you stop yourself from saying anything else. You look at your phone to stare at Damian who says nothing. The more you look at him the more he looks exhausted.

“Damian?”

“Yeah?”

“Come over” a soft smile grazes your lips “‘my parents aren’t home. Away on a business trip or something like that”

“oh?” That seems to spike his interests “what’s the occasion?” You shrug as you think for a moment, your ripped jacket now forgotten and placed aside

“movie night? I was watching a scary movie on Max called Barbarian. I was watching it alone but ten minutes in I got scared” Damian let’s put a small laugh that warms your heart. He’s slowly coming down from whatever he was going through.

“So?”

“I’ll be there. Just give me a few minutes”

“yay. I’ll see you in a bit. My windows open so you can just come in whenever”

You say your goodbye before you hang up on each other.

When Damian finally comes round you’re in the kitchen standing in front of the microwave as you make popcorn. Too engrossed on your phone you don’t notice him until his reflection covers your screen. You're quick to turn around and greet him with a hug that lasts longer than usual. It had you wondering. It’s not until the sound of your microwave beeping, you two pull apart but not fully. Hands linger on his face longer, palms against his tan cheeks.

“You okay?” Softly, you ask and he nods against your hands—his own hands coming up and grasping yours bringing your palm closer to his lips. He kisses it softly before he nuzzles into them again.

“Yes, with you I’m always okay” you hum as you smile up at him.

“Okay….” The microwave beeps once more, a reminder that the popcorn is ready. You let go of Damian as you make your way towards it, opening it and taking out the hot and steaming bag. You place it on the counter as you go and retrieve a bowl.

“You can go sit on the couch if you want” you say dumping the popcorn into the bowl

“I’ll be there in a minute” he nods but you can’t see, you hear his footsteps disappear as he walks away. You spot Damian sitting on the couch waiting patiently, there’s no expression on his face as he stares blankly at your T.V. A frown paints your lips as you walk up to him and hand him the popcorn—he doesn’t say a word as he takes it from your hand and watches as you search for the remote. When you do find it you sit next to him draping a blanket that was placed over the arm of the couch. There’s a static silence between the two of you as you search for the movie. Damian drapes his arm over your shoulder—leaning down onto you.

“Tired?” You laugh slightly—hand coming up to ruffle his black hair as you press play on the movie. He shakes his head

“No. I’m never tired” he smiles

“Okay, whatever you say” rolling your eyes playfully you lean closer to him. The popcorn was now in your hands, placed on your lap. Damian arms were wrapped around you protectively. You two to engrossed in the movie you were watching

Damian was always okay. He just missed you. Today was the first time he’s been over your house in the past six months and talking to you through the phone wasn’t doing any justice to him. Missing you kinda gives him a home sick-y feeling.

Also I recommend watching Barbarian on MAX. It’s not really a jump scare kind of horror movie. It’s more like an uneasy kind of movie. 10/10. Although I do have to give a warning bc there is blood and gore and also mentions of rape and incest.

#damian al ghul #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #batman x fem!reader #robin x reader #batfamily #damian x reader #batfamily x reader #damian al ghul x reader #damian scenarios

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razziematazz · 5 months ago

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yeah sexy bitches it’s extremely goofy headcanon time

(disclaimer: some of this would be specific to a human and/or modern au, because i love drawing them as humans, love the designs i gave them, and was not yet born in 2000- let alone conscious to remember anything about it. also i like giving them tails, even in the human au. this ended up being very long, so here’s a courtesy cut!)

max goof:

this man is BISEXUAL!!!!!!! he and roxanne were bi4bi, but they (mutually) broke up their senior year of highschool bc roxanne was moving for college across the country. after a bit of time, they went to just being close friends :3

speaking of college: we know that the goof family is poor. THEREFORE, i raise you: max is at college via a full ride scholarship. he worked his ASS off to be able to go to college without having to take out loans or “leech” from his dad, and it paid off!

he’s actually REALLY smart but a lot of people don’t know that bc “oh that’s some alt skater boy. he’s probably scraping by with a C average at best”.

he’s also the only reason bobby has passed any classes since junior year of hs

he came out to goofy the summer after he graduated high school. goofy cried bc he was so happy max trusted him enough with that and threw max 2 parties. he is the type of dad to buy max pride socks and wear a shirt that says “i love my gay son” for all of june. max is more than a little embarrassed, but overall? he loves his dad, and he’s really glad his dad loves him no matter what

idc what yall say he is NOT a little white boy as a human 😭😭😭 was literally jump scared the first time i saw him drawn white bc like i just thought it was agreed upon that he’s a POC

continuing with him as a human: yall will see this when i post my designs, but he’s pierced UP ‼️ he’s got snakebites he wears rings in (outwardly mimicking his buck teeth, since i draw the rings thick), both a madonna and monroe piercing, heavily gauged lobes, a double conch and double helix on his right ear, an industrial on his left, a right eyebrow piercing, and a tongue piercing. i also toyed w the idea of hip piercings but thinking abt dermal piercings makes me genuinely sick so

he also taught himself how to do piercings and pierced bobby’s lobe. a good half of his piercings were done at home. do not follow his example <3

(he tried to pierce his nipples and failed horribly, so he just took out the jewelry bc he was NOT having uneven nipples. this is based on one of my friend’s experiences!)

yall already KNOW he’s got that smudgy eyeliner look going on

that takes about 2 minutes. his hair, however, takes him a good 30! and an ungodly amount of hairspray.

his mom left when he was 5 and he barely remembers her

he and the goof troop became quick friends with tank after the x-games, and max definitely had a hand in tank giving bradley another chance

has a pet king snake and a pet tarantula! he got them when his powerline phase was still SUPER strong and named them both after him/his songs. whenever people ask him to explain their names, he gets lowkey embarrassed

got a matching trap stamp w bobby. peej was going to join too but he chickened out as soon as the needle touched down 😭

(the first time bradley accidentally caught a glimpse of max’s tramp stamp, he malfunctioned, fled the room, and had a crisis)

long, double coated black tail

bradley uppercrust III

closeted gay man

he’s the typical frat boy who’s been with a ton of girls, and he just kind of assumed that sex was a chore people went through and it was supposed to be be kind of unfulfilling for everyone

nah it’s just bc he wasn’t actually attracted to women 😭😭 he didn’t realize that he’s gay until his junior year of undergrad

(max and his stupid mouth full of stupid piercings that pours out stupid words and dumber retorts is what made him realize)

(he was literally like a little boy pulling on his crush’s pigtails and didn’t even realize it until about two weeks after the x-games, when he couldn’t stop thinking about how max still smiled at him and called off the bet afterwards)

on this topic: realizing he was gay caused an absolutely gigantic crisis, especially since he didn’t have a support system at all

(tank needed a lot of time to process everything, and even longer to begin forgiving bradley)

(speaking of that, while bradley was still officially the president of the gamma mu mu fraternity on paper [his dad paid everyone off], tank took over his position after the x-games. bradley was basically ostracized)

the main part of why his being gay was such a horrible realization for him is because his dad is the epitome of conservative. his mom believes queer people are just misled.

oh good lord, now it’s time to talk about his horrible father!!

as we’ve said, bradley’s dad is extremely homophobic. he’s the kind of guy to say spew absolutely every false “fact” or “statistic” and homophobic rhetoric anyone could have, and did this to bradley

he also put insane amounts of pressure on bradley

in the words of myself after watching a sad tiktok:

“[bradley is] so comphet and horrible neglectful parents who put far too much pressure on him core. he’s such a trust fund baby except the people who created that trust aren’t even in his life. he’s so simultaneously absent father and father who is constantly There, in his mind, judging him. he’s so internalized homophobia [because of this]”.

his father is definitely financially abusive btw

while he’s extremely rich, he threatens to take away any and all funding and shut down bradley’s cards at even the slightest hint of failure

being gay wouldn’t just get bradley’s funds cuts, though. it’d get him cut entirely from the family.

he’s meant to be perfect because he’s meant to be exactly like his dad and take over his dad’s place after retirement.

even one mistake would “warrant” his dad yelling at him for hours

bradley’s extreme daddy issues is what caused him to react so strongly to goofy saying “well clearly you don’t understand the bond between a father and son 🙄”

also bradley’s dad is the kind of guy to go for younger girls. he had four wives before bradley’s mom, but would leave them as soon as he found out his spawn was to be a girl instead of a boy. he needed a son to take on his “legacy”, and if they couldn’t provide that, they were worthless

and them being ~21 means they wouldn’t know any better

plus, he believes in the stupid “a woman’s prime childbearing years are 16-23 🤓” bs

so like even as he got older, he kept getting with women in that age range instead of those of his own

aka bradley’s mom was 21 and his dad 36 when they got married and had bradley within the same year.

on this note , bradley’s mom is.. not as bad

she holds the same values as his father, but isn’t nearly as extreme

she wouldn’t disown bradley for him being gay, but she would cry and cry because she thought it was a sign she failed as a mother. she’d beg him to “take it back”

to bradley, this is even worse than his father’s anger, since he was a mamas boy through and through.

she wouldn’t ever stand up to his dad, but even when he was young, bradley understood that it was out of fear

if she could get away with it, his mom would always comfort him after his dad’s outbursts

but if she was caught, his father would yell that all this soft treatment would turn him into a (slur i’m not comfortable saying!) and he needed to learn his lesson

all im gonna say is she blames herself

however, speaking of when bradley was young..

his mom has wavy/curly blonde hair

when he was young, he had the exact same hair as his mom

however, as he got older, his hair got darker

until it eventually became the same shade as his dad’s

bradley knew this made his mom a bit sad, but neither of them commented on it, because they both knew bradley was even more upset

it meant that he was now a near carbon copy of his father- minus his hair still being curly, and his lack of facial hair

however, when he got older and his hair became darker, his dad started pressuring him to straighten it, too

of course, he did, even though he hated it

… and at college, as a very subtle way of rebelling, he stopped straightening his hair until he had to see his father

anywayssss onto lighter headcanons!

(roxanne as well interlude !!)

bradley’s maternal uncle is married to roxanne’s maternal aunt!!

(this has absolutely zero basis btw 😭)

minus tank, roxanne was the closest friend to bradley growing up

his dad wasn’t really happy he was so close to a girl, but since roxanne is family, he let it slide; he’s supposed to be such a good family man, after all! it’s the uppercrust image!

anyways, as i said, they were super close

they would gravitate to each other every family get together (christmas, thanksgiving, etc) and would beg their parents to let them visit each other as often as possible

it was much more common for bradley to visit roxanne’s house than vice versa, since roxanne’s parents just have a feeling about bradley’s father. bradley had no issue with this at all

however.. max knew absolutely nothing about this!

whenever roxanne would say “sorry, i’ve got family over right now, i can’t hang out today”, he just wouldn’t question it

and bradley would passively listen to roxanne talk about her crushes, but since he couldn’t relate, it just sort of went into one ear and out the other

they also started to drift a bit during highschool

roxanne coming out to bradley was.. a lot. but he loves her, and knows she’s the best person he’s ever met, and so slowly, he begins to unlearn what his parents taught

roxanne is extremely proud (lol!) of bradley and bradley is.. feeling a lot of things, but he can’t say hate for others is one of them

for a long time, even when bradley was growing closer to the goof troop, winning back tanks everything, and accepting his feelings for max, roxanne was who bradley could always count on. she’s the person he came out to first, and he actually went to her for boy (max) advice multiple times 😭

she caught on quickly but didn’t mind at all

anyways, neither roxanne nor bradley knew that the other knows max- let alone that they eventually both date him

for the first time max is friends with bradley and roxanne comes back to spoonersville for christmas, max introduces them

except they already know each other.

and instead of “hello, im ___”, what he sees is them absolutely booking it towards each other with an “OH MY GODDDD!! HIIIII!! IT’S BEEN WAYYY TO LONG!! I HAVENT SEEN YOU IN, LIKE, 2 THANKSGIVINGS!!!!! HOWVE YOU BEEEN OMG WE NEED TO CATCH UP!!!!”

they both completely ignore max and he’s stood there absolutely DUMBFOUNDED

he is STUNNED

he is the EPITOME of ?!?!?!

bc what are the chances they know each other?? roxanne is NOTHING like the front bradley puts on, and her parents sure as hell aren’t millionaires

and what are the CHANCES max ends up not only having a crush on, but ends up DATING both?????

more roxanne: curled, medium-short haired, solid ginger tail

back to bradley

secretly loves it when max calls him brad instead of his full name

before max, no one had ever shortened his name

it feels like a separation from himself and the uppercrust name

it feels like he’s his own person, and not just an extension of his father- bradley uppercrust II

it takes him a good while and a few drinks to ever admit this, but afterwards, “brad” stops being only a teasing nickname- it has a new undercurrent of warmth

an everything shower takes him about 2 hours. he has very long, very specific skin care (both face and body), hair care, nail care, and grooming routines

these include the usages of no less than 30 different products

he has glasses but would rather wear contacts or just not be able to see than EVER wear them in public.

curled, very fluffy tail with a white bottom and tan top

(his dad forced him to always be in complete control of his tail; to never let it wag, never tuck it, anything. always hold it up high and steady)

(the only time he would let himself forgo these rules is when he was with only roxanne)

(the first time he felt the tell that his tail was about to wag when with max, he left IMMEDIATELY, and it took a while to unlearn all of this)

bobby zimmeruski

biggest stoner any of them have ever met

he’s high for the entirety of both movies

genuinely uses brainrot speak (rizz, sigma, gyatt, etc)

this spread to max, and eventually pj

…and when bradley caught himself thinking a brainrot word for the first time, he was absolutely MORTIFIED

he refuses to say the words.

however, beret girl is never infected!!

religious game grumps viewer

he tried to be a twitch streamer for like two days

pasty ass mf 😭😭

he has to wear spf100 every single time he goes outside in the summer or he WILL get 3rd degree sunburns

short and short-haired ginger tail

absolutely, 100% in love with bianca

im talking he’s already saving up for an engagement ring

(she would say yes in a heartbeat)

he stops wearing the beret he’s seen in at the end of the movie after a while

bianca assured him that, although she’s flattered, she’d love him just as much if he stayed the exact same as when they first met

his new found love of poetry is as genuine as can be tho

the designated driver for SURE

the “what the flip” to max’s “what the fuck” and bobby’s “what the sigma”

(PJ very rarely curses bc his dad does often. if yall didn’t know, his dad. erm. canonically sucks!! not as badly as bradley’s, but his dad is the “your kids should respect (FEAR) you” type)

has a short haired, black bobtail

beret girl

her name is bianca roan greene (b for beret, roan bc i like it, and g for girl)

she goes by roan bc i want her to escape being BG

(credit to Lian_mail on ao3 for the roan part!!)

also bi but leans heavily towards women

she’s a psychology major

she bonds with max over piercings bc she’s also got a few non-standard piercings!

she’s got double lobes, a helix, a forward helix, a conch and a daith on both sides

she wants a nose piercing but feels like, in regards to her future field of work, she’s already pushing her luck with all of the ear piercings

they’re partially why she wears her hair so long

by far the best at advice and the most level-headed out of the (extended, which includes her, roxanne, bradley, and tank) goof troop

has a long, smooth, long-haired tail the same color as her hair

#maxley #the masterlist #max goof #bradley uppercrust iii #an extremely goofy movie #aegm #is that a thing?#is that an acronym people use??#my musings #oh wait should i make a different tag for this #my hcs #there we go #long post #i may separate it later #or at least separate brad and roxanne’s from the rest #idk #the extremely goofy masterlist #even!

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pinknightsinmymind · 2 years ago

Note

could you do some ellie x reader smut (top!ellie) of them having their first time?

【 i'm here to take care of you, pt. 1 - ellie williams | NSFW 】

ellie williams x fem!reader | NSFW MDNI

wc: 4.3k

warning: NSFW CONTENT BELOW THE CUT MDNI

content: established relationship, inexperienced!reader, experienced!ellie, top!ellie, bottom!reader, use of pet names(love, baby, babe, etc.), virginity loss, PRAISE lots and lots of praise, body worship, marking (hickies), slight nipple play, this is nsfw but it's also kinda fluffy, fingering (r!receiving), cunnilingus (r!receiving), aftercare!!!, lots of honest discussions about sex with ellie, very vanilla and sweet, backstory as to how you meet, teasing, ellie makes reader use her words

a/n: yes yes yes a thousand times yes!! this is gonna be so cute🥺 since this was based off the idea of your first time as a couple i wanted to make it very soft and loving. in this fic yall aren't just fucking, yall are making love, bc i'm a super mushy and soft person. i think there's nothing more beautiful than soft loving sex, so that's what i wanted to capture here. also! let's pretend the events of tlou2 never happened here :))

The night you met Ellie was nothing short of beautiful. It may have been dark out but the stars were shining like diamonds hung in the sky. Even more beautiful than the stars was the way they reflected in Ellie’s eyes when Dina introduced you to her. Dina had asked you to meet up with her outside the hall where the town dance was going to be so she could introduce you to one of her friends. You could’ve sworn your heart stopped the moment she introduced you to her. Had you ever seen someone so beautiful? You didn’t think you ever had. Something about the way her eyes sparkled, the pieces of bright auburn hair that framed her face despite the fact it was tucked away in a bun. She wore a light blue flannel with a white top and plain jeans, and you were immediately enticed by the tattoo covering her skin.

It was hard to talk to her at first, feeling your tongue falter every time you tried, but you powered through your introduction. You entered the hall with her and Dina before losing them and deciding to get yourself a drink. You had been sitting at the bar for a while, watching everyone dance, including Dina and Jesse. Jackson was very different compared to anywhere else you had lived in your life. People actually enjoyed life and got to live it. It was unfamiliar and somewhat uncomfortable to you because you had never experienced that before, but it offered you something new: the opportunity to do it yourself. Maybe while here you could actually build some kind of life. Your thoughts were interrupted when Ellie approached you again at the bar.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” you replied.

“You look a little lonely,” she commented.

“In a bad way?” you asked teasingly.

“No, of course not. I just mean you’re sitting here all by yourself.”

“Oh, yeah. I’m just not used to these types of things, is all.”

“Me neither,” she said. “I don’t usually come to these things, but I came because Dina begged me to.”

“Same here. This is my first time coming to something like this.”

“You’re new here to Jackson, right?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’ve only been here for five months. I barely met Dina two months ago.”

“Well, welcome to the community,” she said. “I’ve been here about five years now.”

“Fives,” you observed. Ellie smiled a bit at the small synchronicity you pointed out.

“Do you… wanna dance?” Ellie asked. Your heart felt like it was going to explode inside your body, but you nodded at her question.

“I’d love to.”

A bright smile erupted on your face when Ellie extended her hand out to you, and without hesitation you took it into yours. You stared at her back as she led you out onto the dance floor, and you felt like your heart was pumping a mile a minute. Once she led you to a decent spot she liked, she turned back to face you, putting two hands on your waist within seconds. The song playing was slow but lovely, and you stared into her face like you were viewing a piece of artwork. You wondered if this was how people felt when they went to those old art museums they had before the outbreak. Did their hearts swell like this? Did they stare at those paintings like every second mattered? You felt yourself drawn to her, like you were being pulled into her in a way you never had with anyone before. She led the way as she swayed with you side to side, your hands resting on her shoulders. She looked into your eyes, and you felt like you could see the same thoughts as yours in her head. The way the lights hung up all throughout the hall shone in her eyes just like stars made your breath catch in your throat.

“I’m not much of a dancer,” she apologized, “but I hope I’m doing alright.”

“You’re doing great, don’t worry,” you reassured her. And you weren’t lying. She was doing more than a good job at leading you and keeping up with the rhythm.

“Thanks,” she laughed. “I’m really nervous.”

“Me too. This is quite the way to meet someone,” you said.

“Definitely,” she agreed, “but I have a feeling I’m gonna know you for a long time.”

From that day forward you got to know Ellie more and more, starting off as friends, but it wasn’t long until your friendship developed into something more. She looked so shy when she brought you a personally-made bouquet of flowers and asked you to be her girlfriend. How could you say no to her when she looked so sweet and adorable when she asked you? It didn’t take you long to throw your arms around her in a tight hug and give her your yes.

Ellie was a sweetheart. That was the only way you could describe her. She may have been tough and intimidating on the outside, but on the inside she was so soft. When the two of you started off as friends she let you in on all her interests: space, art, dinosaurs, music, her guitar. You fell in love with every part of her that you got to know, cherishing every moment spent with her. You had never known such sweetness, especially since you had spent most of your life going from town to town since you lived in a world with flesh-eating monsters. For once in your life you were experiencing stability, and you were growing to love it more and more.

There was just one problem—well, you wouldn’t call it a problem, maybe just a bump in the road—which was the fact that nearly three months into your relationship with Ellie and the two of you hadn’t had sex yet. It’s not that either of you didn’t want to, but you just weren’t ready yet. You weren’t innocent, and you knew what sex was and all about it from old books you read growing up, but that didn’t mean you were ready to do it. Sometimes while kissing things would get hot and heavy, and although you did want her, you would simply ask her to slow down and tell her you weren’t ready. She, of course, would kiss your forehead and tell you it was okay.

“Are you mad at me?” you asked her once after turning down sex. You were sitting on her bed after playing a video game when the two of you started kissing and it seemed like the possibility of having sex was getting nearer. You asked her to stop, and she did as soon as you asked, asking you what else you'd like to do instead. She had just come back from grabbing her controllers for you two to play again when you dropped the question on her.

“What?” she asked. She looked at you as if you had just asked her the most outrageous and absurd question.

“You know, because I don’t want to have sex yet?”

“No, of course not, baby. Why would I be mad at you for that?” She sat down beside you and looked deeply into your eyes as she talked to you.

“I don’t know. I mean, I can tell you want to have sex, and I’m just worried I’m disappointing you.”

“Not at all.” She placed a kiss on your forehead then layered kiss after kiss on your cheeks. You let out a small chuckle at the feeling, and the amount of butterflies and warmth and light filling you up was overwhelming. “We’ll have sex whenever you’re ready, babe. It doesn’t matter to me when that is, and I’ll never be mad at you for not wanting to have sex at any point in our relationship.”

“Thank you,” you said to her. You gave her a peck on the lips. “I’ve never been able to take anything slow. I’ve always been on the run, trying to find someplace safe to stay. Being able to actually live and not just survive here in Jackson is new to me.”

“I understand. Take all the time you need.” She gave you another kiss, and after a few more rounds of her game she asked if you’d like to go to sleep. After you said yes she turned off her lamp and pulled you close to her body to go to sleep for the night. It was nice to have her hold you, to feel how warm she was against you. You loved the feeling of the non-sexual intimacy you got to experience with her because it meant the world to you. You felt safe for the first time in your life while in her arms, and the way that feeling of security washed over you was enough for tears to prick your eyes.

It had been three months now, and you were starting to open up to the idea more and more. You were going to spend the night at Ellie’s again, and you were planning on bringing up the conversation to her before the end of the night. You felt the anxiety bubbling up inside you throughout the day, but it wasn’t exactly the bad kind as you were also very excited.

You got to Ellie’s place a little earlier than usual, but she welcomed you in with a huge hug nonetheless. You dropped your bag of clothes for the night by her bed as you flopped down onto the mattress.

“You got the movie?” you asked.

“Hell, yes, I do,” Ellie answered. She held up the copy of Labyrinth she had borrowed from Joel. “I know how much my girl wanted to see this. We gotta thank Joel for telling us about this movie.” Your heart skipped a beat at the phrase. My girl. You couldn’t help but wonder if she’d praise you and say such sweet things like that during sex. You pushed the thought away as you got up from her bed and grabbed your bag.

“I’m gonna change into my pajamas real quick,” you explained.

“Okay, go ahead, babe,” she said. You walked into her bathroom and changed into the longsleeve and the pair of shorts you brought before returning to Ellie’s room. As you got back in bed you watched as she popped the movie in the DVD player by her TV before settling in bed beside you. She adjusted the blankets around your bodies as she opened up her arms for you to nestle into her side. You happily obliged as you felt her arm resting over your shoulder while the movie started. She was so warm and comforting. In that moment you were sure without a doubt that you loved her, more sure of anything than you’d ever been in your life.

You didn’t stir much while watching the movie, and instead you were just content to cuddle with her during it. You really enjoyed the film, but what you liked most of all was experiencing it with her. Once the movie was over Ellie took care of everything and put the movie back up in its case. She did leave her TV on in case the two of you decided to play video games or something of the like.

“Okay, what are you in the mood to do now?” she asked, just like she always did. She told you she liked to do things at your pace, and that whatever you wanted goes. You battled yourself internally. Should you bring it up now? Should you wait? You glanced at Ellie’s clock. It was 10:15. You might as well.

“Um, can I talk to you about something?” you asked. Ellie figured it was pretty serious, so she shut her TV off before coming back to sit in bed next to you. The only thing illuminating her room now was her bedside lamp. She was a little nervous because she had no idea what kind of conversation to anticipate, but she didn’t show the worry on her face. Instead, she just held your hands in hers.

“What is it, babe?”

You felt your cheeks growing hot at the thought of what you were about to ask her, but you wanted to so badly. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be alright, you told yourself. You were in good hands with Ellie, and you had never felt safer with anyone before. You took a deep breath.

“I wanted to tell you that I think I’m ready to have sex with you.” Ellie hadn’t expected that, but she was still going to make sure to comfort you. You did seem nervous to even bring it up in the first place, and she knew sex was something you wanted to take your time with.

“Okay,” she said. “But are you one-hundred percent sure? I just wanna make sure you’re comfortable.”

“I’m very sure,” you said. “I know I’ve mentioned it before, but I’m only nervous because of the fact I’ve never had sex before.”

“Hey, that’s okay. I’ve only done it once before, so I’m not exactly an expert,” she joked.

“Someone as gorgeous as you?” you asked. She got shy at that, looking away from your eyes.

“Stop, you’re trying to fluster me,” she said. “Back to the subject at hand. I just want you to know that at any point if you want to stop, don’t be afraid to tell me. Or if you want me to do something else, tell me, okay? It’s all about you.” You felt her rubbing her thumb against the skin of your hand, the motion comforting your anxieties. It kept you grounded.

“I can do that,” you replied. She smiled at you, one of her hands coming up to caress your cheek.

“I love you so much,” she said. And with the way she looked at you, you believed it and felt it deep within you.

“I love you too.” You loved to see Ellie’s smile, the way her face lit up, how her cheeks blushed and colored the skin around her freckles. “You’re so beautiful,” you whispered.

“Me?” she asked. “Have you seen yourself?”

You didn’t know what to say, or how to respond to the compliment, so instead you said, “Kiss me.” You felt Ellie’s other hand come up to cup your face as she pulled you into a kiss. It was sweet and soft just like her lips, but within time you felt the kiss start to intensify. Her tongue swiped at your lips, then against your own, before you eventually let her in and felt her tongue exploring your mouth. She was intense and beautiful and loving and she was all yours. Her hands wandered from your face down to your shirt as she grabbed the hem to pull it off. The two of you pulled away from the kiss so she could pull your shirt over your head and to pull off her gray hoodie. You noticed she had on a sports bra paired with her boxers at the same time she noticed you weren’t wearing a bra at all, a sigh absentmindedly left her lips.

“No bra, baby?” she asked teasingly, her hands ghosting over your breasts.

“Like what you see?” you asked. Ellie smiled, and instead of replying with words, her lips were back on yours in an instant. She hadn’t expected you wouldn’t be wearing a bra, but she wasn’t going to complain. She loved seeing you like this, and especially since it was the first time she felt there was a certain type of sacredness to it. Her hands gently fondled your breasts as she kissed you, slowly leaning forward and laying you down onto her mattress. Once you were settled she started kissing you from your neck down to your breasts.

“So beautiful,” she whispered against your skin. The praise made you feel shy, but as soon as you felt her kissing your breasts that feeling disappeared. All you could think about was her mouth on your tits, the feeling as she bit down and left small hickies behind. After a few more kisses she took one of your nipples into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it. A small whine left your mouth at the feeling, and Ellie was glad she was making you feel good already. After she was done with one she moved onto the next breast, squeezing the other while she had one in her mouth. Once she was done she kissed from between your breasts down to your stomach, muttering quiet praises against each inch of your skin until she reached the waistband of your shorts.

“Can I take these off?” she asked. You nodded, but that wasn’t enough for her. “No, baby, I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” you answered. She smiled as she began to pull them off your body while you lifted up your hips a bit to help her. She kept your panties on as she retreated to between your thighs and began to kiss them. Her kisses were soft and loving as she looked up at you.

“What do you want, love?” she asked.

“You,” you answered.

“I know that, but what do you want me to do?”

You covered your face in embarrassment. “I want you to eat me out.”

Ellie noticed this and removed herself from between your legs and came back to your face. She grabbed ahold of your hands and began kissing them. “Don’t be embarrassed, okay? I’m here to take care of you. Everything’s going to be alright.” She placed a few kisses on your cheeks.

“Okay,” you responded. “I trust you.” She gave you a quick kiss on the lips before returning to her place between your thighs. As if she hadn’t interrupted herself, she resumed kissing up your thighs, savoring the warmth of your skin and the way you looked from her angle. There really was nothing more beautiful than it. She began kissing closer and closer to your center with soft, peppering lips. She placed a kiss on your vagina through your panties, and you could feel yourself getting even wetter than you already were. The anticipation was killing you, and you wondered how much longer she was going to tease you. Ellie placed another kiss, and that was when you felt her lick you through your panties. Because of the cloth you couldn’t feel her completely, but you could still feel how wet and hot her tongue was. She licked up your folds again, and again, pressing little kisses in between. Small whimpers were starting to leave your lips. She was teasing you and you needed her more than anything.

“What’s the matter?” she asked between kisses. She stared up at you from between your thighs. The look of love and lust in her eyes was making you feel weak.

“I need you,” you said hastily. “Please, take my panties off.” As soon as the words left your mouth she did as you asked, and within seconds her mouth returned to your pussy. She repeated the small licks she had done through your panties, but this time you could feel everything. The actual feeling was overwhelming, a moan leaving your lips almost immediately. Ellie was making her way through your folds, relishing in the fact you were soaking wet. She wanted every part of you, especially your taste. Your moans encouraged her as she started to suck on your clit, the new sensation enveloping your body in a way you had never felt before. Sure, you had masturbated before, but this was different—way, way different. Of course it was when you had the girl you loved more than anything between your thighs. She continued sucking on your clit, drawing more and more moans out of you. It felt so good; there were no words for it. Ellie moved her tongue in a way that had you seeing stars, your hands moving by themselves to grab onto her hair. That seemed to spur her on as she continued to eat you out like she was starving. You could hear the sounds of her sucking and kissing you, and the small groans she let out every once in a while that felt good against your sex.

You could feel yourself getting closer with every stroke of her tongue, and Ellie could tell. You were gripping onto her hair in a way that let her know how good you were feeling. She unwrapped one of her hands from around your thigh, gazing in awe as one of her fingers slid inside you with no resistance. You were so wet, and she curled her finger as she moved it in and out of you slowly. The feeling of her sucking on your clit and fingering you at the same time was overwhelming, and you could feel yourself coming undone with each stroke of her fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, Ellie’s name escaping your lips in the process. She was making you feel so good, all other thoughts escaping your mind. You felt her add another finger inside you, and the moans leaving your mouth now were absolutely dirty.

“That’s it, baby. Do you feel good?” Ellie asked. She already knew the answer, but she wanted to hear you say it.

“Yes, yes, yes. It feels so good.” You couldn’t control yourself or the things you were saying. All you knew is that you loved what Ellie was doing and the way it made you feel.

“I can feel how close you are,” Ellie said as her fingers continued to pump in and out of you. “I feel you tightening around my fingers.” She started to hit a spot deep in your walls that had you letting out even louder moans, and with each thrust of her fingers she could feel you getting wetter. It made her happy to make you feel so good.

“You’re doing so good, baby, just for me. You’re my good girl, right?”

“Yes!” you answered after another thrust from her fingers.

“Tell me how good you feel.”

“I feel so good, Ellie. God, it feels so good.” You could feel your orgasm coming with the way it was taking over your body, making you feel on edge and like your body was hot. Every praise from Ellie’s lips somehow made everything feel even better, and it was giving you the push you needed to reach your orgasm sooner.

“How close are you, love?”

“I’m so close,” you answered. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me right now, baby.” Ellie latched her lips back around your clit as she continued to finger you, pumping her fingers in and out of you so perfectly. And then you felt it: the tightening in your body, the way it rose up inside, bringing you closer and closer before it hit you. When you hit your climax it washed over you completely, taking over every single one of your senses like electricity as it hit its peak before slowly coming down. Ellie continued to finger you through your orgasm, making sure you felt good each step of the way. Once you stopped moaning and started catching your breath she pulled them out and stopped what she was doing. She placed a kiss on your thighs before moving to give you a kiss on the lips.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“I’m more than okay.” You were both smiling like lovestruck idiots.

“Good. Listen, I’m gonna go get a towel to clean you up, but do you want anything else?”

“No, I’m okay,” you answered.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” She got up from her bed and walked to her bathroom where you heard the water run for a little bit before she returned. She grabbed a t-shirt from a pile of clothes by her bed and slipped it on. You sat up in bed a little as she sat before you and cleaned between your legs. You couldn’t help but feel emotional at how loved it made you feel. Once she was done she put the towel on her bedside table and grabbed her hoodie. “Here, put this on,” she instructed. You did as she asked, and she looked absolutely elated to see you in her clothes.

“Where are my panties?” you asked.

“Oh,” she said. “Let me find them.” She looked around before finding them on the floor, handing them to you to slip on. You did so quickly and once you were done she was on you in no time and pulling you in for cuddles. She was placing kisses all over your face and held you tightly against her body. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“I’m feeling good,” you said. “I think I’m just tired now.”

“That happens,” she said. “You feel alright, though? Was there anything I did that you didn't like?”

“No. I felt more than good the entire time. You’re really sweet and caring.”

“Like I always say, anything for my girl.” She gave you a quick kiss on the lips.

“Do you want me to do anything for you?” you asked.

“Oh, no, not tonight,” she said. “I get pleasure just from getting you off, and tonight was about you. We can try some other time, okay?”

“Okay,” you agreed. “You make me feel so safe.” Maybe it’s because you were still basking in the feelings that come after an orgasm, or maybe it’s because you felt wildly closer to Ellie than before, but you just felt the need to tell her that.

“I’m glad, baby. All I wanna do is take care of you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too. How about we call it a night and pass out together, huh?” Ellie asked.

“I’d like that.”

“Alright, let’s go to sleep, babe.” She reached over and switched her lamp off then grabbed her blanket and pulled it up over both your bodies. She wanted to make sure you were settled in her arms before falling asleep. There was nothing compared to the feeling of safety you got while sleeping in Ellie’s arms, and she felt there was nothing better than keeping you safe in them.

#tlou #tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #the last of us ellie #tlou ellie #ellie tlou #tlou x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n

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