#good practice in limiting my word count
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monty n felix (kg) either 16 or 47 plz?
i'll do you one better- why not both? <3
16. "It could be worse."
Felix is busted, and bruised, and betrayed, and bereft. He sticks beside the wheelchair boy with eyes full of hate and a fate cursed by his own bloody hands, and wishes things were different. Theyâre lonely. Itâs their own faults. Wheelchair understands, his legs mangled and burning resentment alight in his eyes. They know of unexpected pain; the agony of their arrogant mistakes. Permanent injuries from those they thought they could trust.Â
âIt could be worse,â Wheelchair tells him, dry and hollow. Felix resents the notion. The gritty, determined optimism he canât replicate stings sharper than that fall ever could.
47. "No-one needs to know."
Montyâs no stranger to secret deals. Heâs grown used to hiding merchandise in his pockets, swiping illegal products for his shadiest buyers with a sort of grim, resigned determination. Felix Huxley is rich, and influential, and his company is far too successful to have avoided any corruption.
âExcellent,â Felix says, the handshake firm and filthy. This is necessary, Monty reminds himself. âI trust this will be kept a secret?
âNo-one needs to know.â Monty confirms, voice low and hushed.
The chemicals stay in his jacket pocket, and Felix dismisses the matter like nothing happened.
Itâs routine. Itâs awful.Â
Itâs necessary.
#these were a lot of fun!!#good practice in limiting my word count#and sticking to just 100 heheh <3#thanks anonnnn :D#i hope u enjoy these!#it's my first time writing drabbles lol#hope they're okay#kindergarten fanfic#ig?#monty kindergarten#felix kindergarten#drabble#drabble challenge#kindergarten game#kindergarten 2
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PROOF â SAKUSA KIYOOMI
content: msby!kiyoomi, female reader, best friend!kiyoomi, pwp, cunnilingus, fingering, kinda best friends to lovers. word count: 2,7k.
note: this was supposed to be shameless smut but ended up being kind of romantic (?) just because a kiyoomi being in love with us is my sexual fantasy. also, i'm not satisfied with the ending, but i had no other ideas. maybe when i come up with something better ill change it, who knows :p
âKiyoomi, do you go down on girls?â
The question took Kiyoomi off guard. You guys had spent the last twenty minutes in almost complete silence, just hanging out in his living room and completely ignoring the random movie you had chosen because you both were scrolling through your phones, which is why the last thing he expected to hear out of the blue was such a question.
He turned to look at you, who were lying across the couch with your feet resting in his lap and still staring at your phone screen. Not knowing what to say, a âhuhâ was the only thing he could think of.Â
âJust answer.â You poked his thigh with your foot. âItâs not like weâre strangers.âÂ
That was true. You two were good friends, practically best friends, and therefore, you both had full confidence in each other. But, you had always kept a limit when it came to talking about both his sex life and yours, to the point where that part of your respective lives was a complete mystery to each other.Â
And this is a secretâ but he liked it that way. Because he was more than sure that he didnât want to know what you did with other men at all. Just thinking about it made his stomach turn with jealousy. Thatâs the reason he didnât bother to tell you about his own experiences with other women either, just in case there was a small chance that you might feel the same way he did.Â
âNone of your business.â He answered sharply.Â
You rolled your eyes before getting up from your comfortable position to sit cross-legged, âCâmon, Kiyoomi, Itâs just a question.â
âA question I wonât answer.â
âWhy not?â You crossed your arms, looking at him defiantly.Â
Kiyoomi narrowed his eyes at your posture, why did you suddenly want to know that? Moreover, why did you insist on wanting to know? Did someone say something to you? Is there a rumor about him? Or maybe you had suddenly awakened an interest in him? He was overthinking, but still he hoped more than anything that it was the latter option rather than the others.Â
âJust because.â He said, and before you could protest, he continued: âAnd, why are you asking anyway?âÂ
A smirk appeared on your face, âIf you answer my question, Iâll answer yours. Deal?â
âNever mind.â
âYouâll never know why I asked, then.â You said, casually looking at your nails. âUnless we make a deal.â
He shouldnât accept so easily, he knew, but now he was genuinely curious why you broke an unspoken rule between you two to ask him if he did orals, of all things.Â
So, he agreed. âDeal.â
Your smile of victory almost made him smile too, but he did his best to remain serious. âOkay. Tell me.â
He sighed before answering honestly. âI do.â
Your eyes widened and an incredulous laugh escaped your lips before you said, âReally?â The surprise in your voice made him frown, why was that surprising? Should he be offended?
âYeah.â
âAre you serious? You go down on girls?â You couldn't even hide the disbelief in your voice. âYou?â
âI already said yes. Now, tell me. Why are you asking?â
Without further ado, you grabbed your phone that had been forgotten in your lap to unlock it, and a second later you were showing him what appeared to be your TikTok feed.
âA fan made a TikTok with the title: Ranking how good MSBY players are at giving head and you were raked as a zero just because heâd rather die than put his mouth there.â
What the fuck?!
âLet me see that.â
In the blink of an eye, Kiyoomi snatched the phone from you to watch the video with his own eyes, regretting it as soon as it started thanks to the embarrassing selection of music and photos chosen from the team members. He scoffed, a random person on the internet had felt entitled to make this kind of ranking just based on appearances and assumptions. Itâs not like they could have any real evidence at the end of the day. But it seems that for many people a video of this kind told the absolute truth, because it had thousands of likes and thousands of comments, andâto his misfortuneâhe couldnât help but read them.
Now he wished he had never done it.Â
In addition to most of the comments agreeing and mocking Kiyoomiâs ranking, saying that at least his face makes up for it and that maybe he gives head as long as he has his face mask onâthat one was actually funny, but he wouldnât say that out loudâ, the other vast majority agreed that Atsumu and Bokuto were the best.Â
But the question here is, did you think the same?
âYou actually believe this crap?â He asked, actually sounding more hurt than he planned.Â
âKiyoomi, itâs just a TikTok. Of course, Iâll believe it.â You were obviously trying to make a joke, but still, the expression on his face showed pure disbelief. âIâm joking, jeez.â
âI know itâs a just TikTok, but I still want to know.â He sounded serious.Â
You sighed and rolled your eyes, perhaps thinking he was exaggerating, maybe he was, but he wasnât offended by the fact that someone made that video, there were probably hundreds just like it. It was the fact that you, of all people, seemed to agree with an assumption about him and his very private intimate life.Â
âKiyoomi, I just thought it was funny. Thatâs why I asked.â
âBut you didnât believe me when I told you I did.â
âI did believe you.â He narrowed his eyes, showing that he obviously didnât buy your words. âIâm not lying. I believed you, butâ I was just⊠shocked.â
âWhy?â
âItâs just thatâŠnever mind.â
âTell me.âÂ
You looked him in the eye for a few seconds before sighing heavily.
âYouâre⊠a little too special when it comes to cleanness andâ where you put your mouth, you know?â You werenât even looking him in the face, obviously nervous about the direction the conversation was taking. âIâm not judging you, we should all be careful where we put it. And, I just thought that⊠yeahâ You waved your hand as you finished, trying to play it down.Â
Kiyoomi couldnât blame you or others for thinking that, after all, that was the kind of reputation he built for himself. But, even when he didnât care what others thought about him, he always cared what you thought; for that reason alone, he wasnât going to let you walk away with the wrong idea about him.Â
âYes, we should. But now you know that I actually go down.â He said, and, simply because he had a good feeling, he added: âAnd Iâm pretty good at it, I can assure you.â
You scoffed. âAre you?â
âI am.â Confidence exuded in his voice, perhaps that was exactly why the next words came out of his mouth: âYou want proof?â
What happened next was a delight to his eyes.Â
You got fucking nervous, of course he noticed, you were his best friend after all. You widened your eyes, opened your mouth a couple of times in an attempt to say something but nothing came out. But what was a poem for him, was to see how you moved your hips slightly, in a movement that could have gone unnoticed if he hadn't paid all his attention to you.Â
You cleared your throat as you looked away from his gaze. âI have no desire to ask your previous flings how good you are down there or watch any pornographic videos of you, so no, thanks.â You folded your arms as you sat up straight, suddenly finding the movie interesting.Â
The room fell into silence, accompanied by a heavy tension that you two were obviously aware of.Â
This situation was actually kind of funny. Thanks to a fucking TikTok, he now had an opportunity in front of him that he had been waiting for a long time. An opportunity he was going to take.Â
âI wasnât referring to that kind of proof.â
Three minutes later, you were lying on the couch with your head resting on a pillow, your pants thrown aside on the floor and Kiyoomi between your legs, spreading kisses across your belly.Â
âThis is weird.â You said, maybe in an attempt to break the intimate silence that had formed where only your breaths and his kisses could be heard.Â
âIt is.â He agreed before lowering his lips to your inner thighs, where he surprised you with a light bite that made you gasp. âWe can stop if you want.â
You were quick to reply with a no and he smirked against your skin. Of course you didnât want to stop, neither did he. Both of you by this point were already immersed in lust, even though it had only been a few minutes of foreplay.
When he was desperately taking off your pants minutes ago, Kiyoomi debated whether to just go for it or take it slow.Â
But the moment he saw the longing in your eyes, how pretty you looked underneath him, he knew he would take his time. He didnât just want to prove something to you; he actually wanted to taste you, to make you squirm, to make you enjoy this as much as he would.Â
Gently caressing your thighs with both hands, he moved down until his mouth made contact with your pelvis, where he left another trail of kisses until he reached right where your clit was. Still above the fabric of your panties, he kissed you there, which was enough to elicit a moan of frustration from you.
âPlease, just do it.âÂ
He kissed the same spot again before smirking. âLet me just go get my facemask, canât do this without it.âÂ
His sudden joke made you burst into laughter which elicited a chuckle from him. âDonât kill the mood.â You said as you gave a small pat to his hand that squeezed your thigh.Â
He smiled and brought both of his hands to the waistband of your panties, pulling them down slowly. âAt this point thatâs impossible.â
âI know.â You muttered as you lifted your hips to let him remove the garment easily.Â
As quickly as the garment hit the floor, Kiyoomiâs eyes focused on the middle of your legs, you may not have noticed, but the mere sight of your pussy glistening with your arousal made him twice as hard as he already was.Â
âDonât stare.â You said, trying to close your legs as much as you could since Kiyoomi was in the way.
No, no, no. There was no way for you to hide from him now, or ever.Â
âWhy not? Youâre so fucking hot in all places.âÂ
Hearing his words, in an act of fluster, you brought both of your hands to cover your face, perhaps trying to hide how his praise made you feel. âYou think so?â
The question came out almost in a whisper, and in response, he took both of your hands, interlaced your fingers and placed them on the sides of your head with the purpose of looking you in the eyes.Â
âThereâs no day when I donât think that youâre hot,â He confessed, his voice deep and serious with the purpose of making you understand that he was not playing games. âNow that I just told you how crazy Iâm for you, open your legs and let me make you feel good.â
You nodded, and staring at him with desire in your eyes, you opened your legs wide open again until that part of your body that he wanted to devour more than anything else was once again fully at his mercy.
Kiyoomi let go your hands and he lowered his body until his stomach made contact with the soft cushion of the couch. Now in that position, he wrapped his arms around your thighs, squeezing the flesh eagerly before dipping his head into the middle of your legs.Â
âGod.â You sighed, jerking your hips upward in surprise.Â
He played slowly with his tongue, running it up and down before concentrating on sucking your clit.Â
He was hard as fuck. Maybe more than he had ever been in his life. He even felt his tip leaking and was almost certain that if he started grinding his hips against the cushion, he could come at any moment. But he would save that for later. Right now, he was getting drunk on your taste and the sound of your moans.Â
And fuck⊠those moans were heaven itself.Â
He lowered his mouth, right at your entrance, where he began to lick gathering more of your juices before he deepened his mouth against your clit, sucking harder, quickly realizing that you liked it by the movement of your hips and the loud whimper that came out of your mouth.Â
Kiyoomi was getting excited, even more so when he felt your hands stroking his head before pulling his curls, holding him closer to you, as if you were afraid he would break away, taking with him the pleasure you were feeling, but Kiyoomi wasnât willing to do that, right now what he wanted most was you coming as hard as you could in his mouth.Â
Hungry to increase your pleasure, he didnât think twice when he let go of one of your thighs to stick a finger inside you, thrusting it in and out a few times before slipping another one in and curving his fingers to reach that sensitive spot inside you.Â
âThere, oh god, there.â
He would give you whatever you wanted, so he focused there. Feeling lovesick at this point. Loving the way you sounded. Loving the way you pulled his hair. Loving the way your tight pussy squeezed his fingers.Â
He moved his tongue back down to your entrance at the same time he pulled his fingers out, but only to start circling them over your clit. This is where you put a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming, but Kiyoomi didnât want that, he wanted to hear you come undone for him, no matter if it woke up the neighbors. So with his free hand he took you by the wrist at the same time that he separated his mouth from your sex.
âDonât hold back those sounds, I want to hear you scream for me. Okay?â
You nodded. Too shocked to formulate words.Â
âGood girl.â He praised before placing a short kiss on your wrist, releasing it a second later to immediately return to seal his mouth with your wet pussy.Â
This time he put both hands behind your knees to spread your legs wider and pushed them against your chest, giving himself more room to continue devouring you, proud that you were no longer shy to scream with pleasure when he flicked his tongue, sucked and bit your pretty pussy.Â
âIâm close. Fuck! Donât stop, please.â
Kiyoomi wouldnât stop, he was sure of that.
It was a matter of seconds when started to came in your best friendâs mouth.Â
Kiyoomi kept licking, drinking up all your release until your legs began to shake from overstimulation.Â
He gave a peck to your clit before gently letting go of your legs, settling them slowly on the cushion. He caressed your thighs as he left kiss after kiss on your belly, helping you relax as you tried to control your breathing after such an intense experience.Â
You were lying there staring at the ceiling, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Perhaps processing everything that just happened, but Kiyoomi wouldnât give you time for regrets, not now, not ever. He moved on top of you, resting his forearms on either side of your head and looked down at you, connecting your gazes before asking with a cocky smile on his face, âAnd? How was it?â
You let out a chuckle and rolled your eyes playfully before answering, âI think TikTok and I owe you an apology.â You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck. âYouâre definitely not a zero.â
âIâll be happy with yours alone.â He said before lowering his face further until your noses brushed, âYour opinion is the only one I care about afterall.â He added before finally kissing you.
#đ â mar wrote this.#â hq#â thirsts#sakusa x y/n#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakusa imagines#sakusa x reader#sakusa kiyoomi x you#sakusa kiyoomi#msby sakusa#sakusa smut#sakusa x you#haikyuu msby#haikyuu sakusa#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu smut#hq x reader#hq x you#msby x reader#msby smut
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the limit does not exist!
how spencer helps college!reader understand a little calculus and therefore understand how he loves her.
MDNI | smut word count: 1931 warnings & tags & stuff: fem reader, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), lil bit of overstim hehe, pure unbridled affection, LOVE, FLUFF, hugging, reader cries, this was in fact meant to be written for spence's birthday... sorry about that school is kicking my butt lets just pretend it's october! author's note: this one is for my folks who HATE their calculus class and want spencer reid to give them head instead <3 maybe this can help you romanticize it a bit. i think this is classified as self indulgentâŠlike REALLY self indulgent⊠hah... anyway i hope you enjoy! let me know your thoughts if u have any, i loveeeee you!! have a great day my hands are shaking posting this smut is so scary!!!!!
You sat in bed, staring down your notebook, eyes narrowed. Limits stared back at you. You were just about at your own limit, if you were being honest.Â
Your brain, however sharp and witty it may be, is absolutely not one designed for calculus. A literary analysis essay? Done in half an hour. In depth scientific research project? Easiest months of your life. But thereâs something about finding the instantaneous rate of change of a curve at one point in time by finding the slope of a tangent line that hasn't clicked yet.Â
A slew of other papers- notes, practice worksheets printed from obscure websites, and formulas- surround you, a sea of unfinished thoughts from the past month of the semester.
You bite on the end of your pen, the little hope you had for a good grade in this class slipping further and further away with each passing moment, like the last ember dying in the remains of a fire.
What you really wanted to be doing was celebrating Spencerâs birthday with him right now. A chocolate cake lay on the kitchen counter and pasta simmers on the stove, but you and your boyfriend had agreed to do a solid hour of work before the celebrations ensued.
You were never particularly strong willed when it came to following through on such agreements.
âTeach me calculus,â you say, a very impressive three minutes later, flopping down on the couch. Your head makes its way to its forever resting spot, Spencerâs lap. He raises his eyebrows slightly, thumb reaching out to trace over the slope of your nose. His eyes flit between you and the file to the side of him.Â
âI thought we agreed on an hour.â
âYeah. But it wouldnât be a very productive hour if I didnât know how to do what I have to do. And I missed you.âÂ
He sighs quietly, closing the file next to him.Â
âWhat do you not understand?â You smile at that, loving how quickly you won.
âRelated rates. Like, conceptually.âÂ
Spencer hums in response.
âItâs October. Youâre not even supposed to know related rates yet.â
âFine. Then let's open presents,â you respond, smiley. His eyebrows get impossibly higher, hand stroking your cheek delicately.
âNo. I want our night to be a little more stress free when we celebrate, okay? How about you think about that lovely cake you made for me. What if I decided to squash it so that the diameter would get bigger, going fromâŠletâs say, 20 centimeters to 26 centimeters in 3 seconds, and the height would get smal-â
âThat wouldn't be nice. It took me like four hours,â you interrupt, grumbling. He cracks a smile.
âFor the sake of the example, let's say I was an awful boyfriend and really wanted to ruin all the hard work you put in for me.â
You roll your eyes.
âHey,â he says, hand moving down to touch your jaw softly. âDonât do that. Donât be difficult. Iâm helping you.â
âSorry. I guess I need you to zoom out a little. I donât really get why Iâm learning this as a whole.â Spencerâs eyes pore into yours, staring down at you adoringly for a small moment as he comes up with an answer.
âCalculus helps us begin to explain the unexplainable by harnessing what we can,â Spencer says simply. âEinstein once said that, âPure mathematics is, in its way, the poetry of logical ideas,â which makes it simple in practice, but I actually like to think about it as the opposite philosophically. Trying to find logic in the more poetic ideas.â
You cuddle deeper in his lap.
âThink he would agree with that?â you ask. âI do answer to Einstein before you, unfortunately.â Spencer bends down to kiss your hair.
âI think so. He also had a really nice quote where he remarked that, âGravitation cannot be held responsible for people falling in love.â He said, âHow on earth can you explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love? Put your hand on a stove for a minute and it seems like an hour. Sit with that special girl for an hour and it seems like a minute. That's relativity.ââ
Spencer takes a deep breath.
âMath doesnât explain how I love you. It canât. But I love the fact that it tries to. It kinda makes you wanna learn it as best you can.â
You process that for a long second and nod. He keeps talking.
âŠÂ
Presents get opened, and cake gets eaten before dinner. Of course.
Youâre now in bed, on top of the covers, forcing Spencer to give you a fashion show of the new sweater vest and tie you got him. He turns to you after putting it on, and you beam.Â
âI really like it. You look great. Do you like it?â you ask. He nods, smiling back at you.
âIâm gonna wear it to work tomorrow.âÂ
You beckon for Spencer to come closer, sitting up in bed. Your hands go out to the tie, tugging at the knot softly. He stares down at you until eventually interrupting your motions with a slow kiss, hands cupping your face.
âYouâre so pretty,â he mutters.
He pulls away and finishes what you started, folding the tie neatly and setting it in the drawer. Then comes the vest, and soon enough, heâs just in his boxers.
âYouâre the pretty one,â you say quietly. âCome to bed.â He crawls on next to you, tugging you into his arms. âHappy birthday, Spence. I love you.â He dips his forehead to your shoulder.
âI love you.â
Before you know it, heâs shifted on top of you, moving down. Fast. You blink, hard, trying to rid your head of the hazy endorphins as you register what heâs doing.
âWhat? No, I was gonna do that. Itâs your birthday. You donât have to,â you protest.
âBut I really, really want to, darling girl,â he murmurs back, kissing your knee and softly pushing it to the side.
You fluster and Spencer just looks at you, fingers tracing shapes on your waist, waiting for you to be ready.Â
âWell. Um. Okay. If you insist. I canât really deny the birthday boy.â Your voice is small, and a little giddy smile grows on your face. Of course Spencer Reid would want to give you head on his birthday.Â
He smiles a little against the bare skin of your hip where your top meets your shorts. Then he meets your eyes.Â
âYou know you can, though, right?â he asks, voice a little more serious. You reach out to touch his hair softly.Â
âYeah. I know.â
Fingers hook your shorts, gently pulling them down. He presses a kiss to your thigh, and then he suddenly looks down at it.Â
âSoft,â he murmurs, like heâs making a mental note. He presses another, and another, incrementally going closer and closer to your soaked through underwear. His eyebrows scrunch when he sees the wet spot. âAll this from a few kisses?âÂ
You blush, unable to respond.Â
Spencerâs fingers hook a centimeter of your underwear. âThese?â he checks.
âYes, please,â you manage. He tugs them down, silently noticing the slickness of your sex, and exhales shakily.
âHow many times on average does it take for a guy to call you pretty on a given day before you get annoyed?â he murmurs, soft smile playing on his face. You smile too, head cloudy from his words, but it immediately drops when his lips press directly against your pulsing clit, kissing it softly.
âFuck,â you say (Spencer would argue moan) softly (loudly). You let out a content sigh, and he moves to suckle it, actions becoming less and less delicate.Â
Itâs not harsh, but incessant. Spencer knows what you can take. He knows exactly what you can take. Youâre both quiet for a bit, save for your breathy moans.Â
âSpencer,â you say softly, ripping you both out of your individually hazy and dirty and distracted minds. âYouâre too far away.â He looks up to you, face parallel to your aching core, hair beautifully messy and mouth glistening.
After a second, he grabs your hips, gently pushing you up against the pillows so youâre propped up at a better angle. He then shifts his body up wordlessly so heâs more above you, dipping his head down to give you a soft kiss. You taste yourself, tongue darting out to lick your lips.
His hand takes over where his mouth was, sliding in between your folds with a practiced ease. Spencer looks down at you, eyes wide and flitting between yours, searching for a reaction.
You reach out and wrap your arms around him, holding him close. âHoly shit, I love you,â you murmur.
His fingers lightly graze your clit again before one slides into you. âAngel,â he breathes out, so quietly. âI love you too. This okay? Are you okay?â
You nod feverishly and lift your hips to meet his hand, always in a perpetual state of wanting more, to be closer. Your bodies are melded so close together, barely giving him room to push his hand into you. He doesnât even bother to ask you to use your words or keep your hips down, like he might on a regular night.
He pulls his head back to watch as he pushes another finger into you, stretching you just a little. âThere we go. You always feel like heaven around me.â
Your eyes flit up to his face as he says those words, now having a little more room to observe him. You focus on the slope of his nose and curve of his mouth.Â
âYouâre so perfect,â you say quietly, adoringly, before you even realize it was true.
You blink at that thought. Spencer Reid is perfect, despite whatever universal odds deeming that impossible.
Those graphs, those formulas, now laying discarded & crumpled on the ground. They click, a little bit. You understand why Albert Einstein wanted to spend his life developing theories of relativity.
This is how Spencer sees you? What he was talking about earlier?
This is how he sees you?
The thought is almost too much.
Spencer sees your face, and not knowing what's going on in your head, slides down his free hand from your cheek to your carotid, feeling your racing pulse. âTake a deep breath for me, okay? You're about to come, huh?â
You inhale and are met with peace. Then your orgasm hits you like a wave. You clench hard around his fingers, and he just watches it happen, fascinated. âBaby,â he coos softly at you.
It wasnât just your sensitivity heâs currently maximizing on or the little kisses he dips down to leave on your neck that sealed the deal, but the very thought that you could be loved in a way that is so perfectly impossible.
You exhale breathily as Spencer pushes you through the last trails of your climax, fingers not caring one bit that you just had your world tilted on its axis.Â
âSpencer. Ohmygodohmygodohmygod,â you say eventually, overstimulated.
âYouâre okay. Did so good.â he murmurs, fingers slipping out of you.Â
His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't even realize was dripping down.
âDonât cry, you always cry. Itâs my birthday. Donât cry on my birthday,â he whispers soothingly, affection lacing his voice.
âIâm not.âÂ
Another one falls.Â
You reach and press out that perpetual little slope between his eyebrows with your thumb, gentle, like you might break him. âIâm not crying.â
Spencer lets you lie.
#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#fanfic#piperâs works
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Hi! Hope this finds you well. Saw the request and wanted to ask for a Yandere Sylus with player reader. Like Sylus knows Mc is a player and he is a game character. When mc was gone for too long, Sylus gets impatient.
If you can do it, of course. If no, ignore this. Wish you writing ideas and inspiration
Hi! Hope you're well too, anon! Sorry for the long wait on this one, got really stuck with it and wanted to make sure I did it justice-- it was such a cool idea! (Also I know L&D has the microphone feature but I wanted to have fun with the limited communication of the player here, so no it doesn't, actually!! đ„°)
Fourth Wall
Sylus x Player!Reader đ©ž
Summary: L&D is getting more and more real with each update. This is a new update... right?
Genre: idk really?? real world player x character
Warnings/Additional tags: yandere themes, player!reader, gender neutral, fourth-wall breaking, non-canon, swearing, mild threat, possessiveness, manipulation, Sylus is a little OOC here (we all know he's a sweetheart really!!)
| Word count: 1.5k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
Your phone lights up with a notification.
Sylus: Are you in a good mood, sweetie? The weatherâs nice, so letâs go out.
It makes you smile, even though youâve seen it before. You havenât played Love and Deepspace for two weeks or so, and youâre already thinking about how many dailies youâve missedâ more specifically, how many diamonds youâll be short of going into the next event. You had a couple thousand saved, you think? Itâs probably fine.
The truth is, you donât really have time for it these days. Escaping reality with fiction is fun, but itâs just that: make believe. Realityâs still waiting for you on the other side, and recently? All that escaping has finally caught up to you. You have a real life. Responsibilities. Yay!
But you are in a good mood, and the weather is nice, so youâll log in for old timeâs sake. Your finger hovers over the app, but something makes you hesitate. Youâve got some emails you should probably get back to, first. Ohâ and werenât you supposed to call your friend, too?
Another notification:
Sylus: Take your time, kitten.
A new one? Itâs just text on a screen, but youâre reading itâ Sylusâs voice in your headâand you just know itâs dripping sarcasm. Before you have any time to dwell on it, your phone lights up with more notifications.
Sylus: Iâm going to count to three.
Cute. Heâs not actually going toâ
Sylus: OneâŠ
Oh.
Sylus: TwoâŠ
Really?
Sylus: Three.
Ok.
You tap on the app, weirdly motivated by the time pressure given that itâs coming from a man who doesnât actually exist. He smirks at you knowingly from the kindled moment youâd set as the loading screen, his crimson eyes playful. Youâre not particularly patient either, so your fingers drum along the surface of your desk as you wait, your gaze caught between his and the slowly moving loading bar.
Come on⊠come on⊠It finally loads, and you enter the game with another apathetic tap. Sylus stands, waitingâ a dark figure framed by the otherwise light and dreamy aesthetics of the Destiny CafĂ©. You smile to yourself; itâs just gone lunch, and you half expected to find him sprawled in the usual armchair, fast asleep.
He crosses his arms. âThe countdown worked, huh? What are youâ five?â
You scoff and give his head a flick. He chuckles, running a hand through his hair as though youâd struck him hard enough to ruffle it. Itâs kind of cool that you get some unique dialogue when youâve not logged in for a while, although⊠have you missed an update or something? The animation feels smoother. More lifelike, now you think about it.
Sylus stares back at you, his lips playing into a subtle smile. His arms are crossed again and he tilts his head like heâs enjoying your scrutiny. âSomething wrong, sweetie?â he asks.
Not really. You zoom in with a practiced sweep of your fingers so you can get a better look at him. His eyes flit downwards, over youâ equally shamelessâ and then heâs meeting your gaze as he steps forward, closing the distance. He canât see you, but you still canât bring yourself to look away from him, and youâre not really thinking about the animation anymore.
He lifts a finger to poke at the screen, as if heâs caught you daydreaming and wants you back. You poke him, too: a softer, more affectionate boop on the nose. You canât help laughing to yourself as his face screws up beneath the touch. This game is getting a little too real.
With a sigh, you zoom out so you can set about collecting your daily log-in rewards. Sylus seems fineâ standing idly by as your attention drifts about elsewhere. He knows the drill. He can wait. Speaking of waiting⊠itâs also been a while since youâve seen the other guys, and youâre struck by a pang of nostalgic fondness. You might as well say hi while youâre here.
You hit the button to change who you want to meet in the café.
It doesnât do anything.
Weird. You hit it again. Then againâ no change.
Sylus is holding his chin as he regards where your finger aimlessly meets the screen. Itâs like heâs looking at⊠the button? âOh dear,â he sympathises, âthat feature appears to have stopped working.â
You donât really hear him, honestly. Youâve never had a bug like this, and youâre determined to overcome it with sheer, stubborn persistence. Is it your phone? You test the theory by jabbing Sylusâs chest, and he glances down, apparently feeling it. You try the button again. Then six more times.
Sylus wanders closer to you. âYouâre hurting my feelings, sweetie. Am I not enough for you?â
Ok but why isnât this working? Youâre still trying the button; your hope has turned to frenzied disbelief.
âStop.â
A single syllable, concise as a punch and just as effective. You do stop.
Sylusâs voice is lower. Darker. âGood,â he praises, but he doesnât sound happy. âSomeoneâs gotten bolder in their absence, it would seem. I do hope you havenât forgotten to whom you belong, kitten. Althoughââ his smile is different than beforeâ âIâd be more than happy to provide a⊠reminder.â
Itâs an innocuous word but not the way he says it. Threats are just intimate promises and he toys with the fact like a crow enamoured by something that catches the light. Heâs not going to grow tired of it for a long, long time.
âDonât look at me like that,â he says, sensing you gawping. âDid you really think I wouldnât figure it out? What all⊠this is?â He indicates the space around him with a wave of his hand. âQuite frankly, Iâm surprised the others still havenât grasped it.â He reconsiders. Smirks. âI misspokeâ Iâm not surprised.â
Does he mean the game? The other LIs? Â
âHonestly, kitten,â he continues with a tut and a shake of his head, âyouâve been far from a gracious host. Iâm not a plaything, you know. WellâŠâ Heâs showing teeth with a sneer. âNot the sort you can throw away, anyhow.â
God, are you really being scolded by a video game character for having other responsibilities? The worst part is that you actually feel bad. You do care about him. You wish you could tell him you care about him.
âAre you even listening?â he sighs.
Shit. Yeah. You canât say anything he would hearâ as far as you knowâ so you give his hand a poke. He casts his gaze downwards, stretches his fingers with a contemplative flex, then raises his hand so it can be nursed by the other. Is he protecting it from you? Or is he protecting you from it?
âIf weâre to keep playing this game of ours, I think it only fair we lay down some rules,â he states. âFirstlyââ because it isnât up for debateâ âyou will come here every day, just like you used to. I have nothing to do, you see, and if you leave me to my own devices I might just have to find a way into that captivating little world of yours. So I can⊠investigate whatâs keeping you from me.â
Investigate. Another innocuous word he wields like a weapon.
âSecondly,â he continues, nodding towards the broken button on your user interface, âyou had better stop seeing the others. Ignorance is bliss, after all, and we wouldnât want to worry about them connecting any dots, now would we? BesidesâŠâ He approaches you again, leaning in close. âI donât share whatâs mine.â
Your breath is caught in your throat and youâre so glad you donât need to speak. You donât think you could; if you tried to get words out theyâd be unintelligible.
âSo,â Sylus drawls, filling your silence, âhow about it? Still want to play?â
This time it is a question, but only because he knows your answer. Youâre struck by a flash of inspiration, and you communicate in one of the few ways you canâ navigating the in-game menus until you can get your message across.
Thereâs a ping. Sylus retrieves his phone from his pocket, and after a moment of scrolling, he smiles. You canât see his screen, but you know what heâs looking at: a grumpy crow with an animated bead of sweat and a dispassionate gaze to go with it. That it? it asks.
He still looks far too smug, so you beckon him over with a relax time interaction, watching your characterâs hand outstretch on your behalf. He steps forward, linking his fingers with yours, and this animation you know. You tug him closer, except⊠he doesnât budge. Â
His eyes are fixed to where your hands are linked, and he runs a thumb over your skin as though heâs savouring the touch.
Did they change the animation?
âOh, sweetie,â he sympathises with a click of his tongue. He looks up at youâ holds your gaze as he presses a deliberately slow kiss to your wrist. âThis is going to be fun.â
#đrach is actually writing#sylus x reader#sylus#love and deepspace#lads sylus#lnds sylus#l&ds sylus#qin che#sylus x you#lads x reader#lads#lnds#l&ds
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NS//FW ALPHABET .vi
 â WORD COUNT - 5.3K
VI (ARCANE) X FEM!READER
 â WARNINGS - smut, nsf//w themes, much much more but unfortunately i will not be typing them all out because this entire post is around sexual themes, read at your own risk ! intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread đ©·
AFTERCARE, what they're like after sex vi likes to be a little rough, this is no secret to you or her. but she makes sure to change that as soon as it's over. she'll take the harness off her hips, discarding it before crawling back up to you, placing kisses on your cheek and shoulder. "you okay?" always wanting to know what's going on inside you're head. "was it okay? too rough? no?" of course she likes it rough, so do you, neither of you would have it any other way but she also wants to make sure that you can communicate your limits, even through your fucked out glossy lips. "good girl, that feel better?" she'll already be rubbing cream on the little bruises, whether it was on your hips or across your ass. she doesn't care where it hurts, all she cares is to make it better. "my pretty girl, did so well." she'll make sure to murmur as she cleans your bottom half with a cloth, trying to ignore your broken whimpers as she coos, attempting to shush you. you'll both sleep naked, skin to skin with your arms woven around her neck, hers around your waist and holding you close.Â
BODY PART, her favourite body part of hers and also yours it's no secret that you're obsessed with her arms, it made her a little obsessed with them too. she loves her biseps, the way they flex and most importantly, the way you stare at them, all wet-mouthed when they do. she also loves the strength in her arm to keep you pinned against the bed, stopping you from writhing under her or the way they sit at either side of your head, watching you get wide eyed at feeling a little trapped yet awfully flustered. she loves how much you love them. she adores all of you, truly every inch of your body but she'd be lying if she said she didn't love those thighs impossibly more. she loves grabbing at them, pushing your little skirts and dresses up to reveal the skin that she can push and pinch at. she adores nothing more than being inside you, head thrown back yet still, her hands are on those precious thighs, kneading and playing with the plush skin. they're like two stressballs in her hands and you can't help but writhe against her as she does so.
CUM, anything to do with cum really vi can squirt pretty easily, it just comes naturally to her. but what she loves even more than squirting is making you squirt. when you'd looked away, all shy and embarrassed after telling her you'd never been able to squirt before, she just had to take it on as a challenge. and when she was fingering you, pumping her fingers in and out as her mouth sucked on your clit, she couldn't help but grin at the spurts coming from your cunt. "atta girl." she'd coo, pulling her mouth away and pressing a slap to your pussy. "that's it, good girl." all proud of herself for being able to achieve the said impossible.
DIRTY SECRET, a dirty secret of hers vi wouldn't call herself a criminal. sure, she spent her fair share inside stillwater though she thought those circumstances were sort of unnecessary. she thought once she got out, she'd left her thief days behind her. not that she'd call it stealing, she always said she was just doing what she needed to survive. but if that were true, your white cotton panties wouldn't be hidden in her drawer or your lacy pink ones wouldn't be sitting in her back pocket. she was so discrete about it, waiting until you'd turned away or even walked away for a second before slipping them between her fingers and into the back of her pants, right in the pocket. she was good at being sly about it, after all, she'd had practice. you'd come back, looking through your laundry basket or the folded clothes on your bed, brows knit together all confused. "something wrong, cupcake?" she'd question, pretending not to be interested as her eyes studied the comic book that had been sitting on your bed or something or other. "jus' looking for something." you'd mumble distractedly, fishing through your clothes once more, you'd think you'd gone insane. but vi then turned her attention on you, feigning confusion. "what're you looking for?" she'd smirk at the way you'd flush then, turning away. "n-nothing."
EXPERIENCE, how experienced is she? does she know what she's doing? you know, most people think vi doesn't have much experience seeing as she was in prison for a couple years but i BEG TO DIFFER. you cannot tell me this girl wasn't getting around behind those bars. every lunch, every dinner, every time she got out, she was eyeing up someone knew. she didn't care whether they were desperate or played hard to get, she had no preferences when it came to that prison, not that she had a lot to work with anyway. but aside from that, she was pretty much open to just about anything. she didn't care who it was, if they were willing to give, she was willing to take. though, it was often in the most uncomfortable places in the world. in the janitors closet or some other remote area where she wouldn't get caught. times could get tough inside prison and sometimes all you needed was to blow off some steam and get that anger out which is exactly what she did. i think vi would be very experienced in that department which is why it was so different when it came to you. both in a soft bed, no pressure, no need for stress relief. it came calm to her, like she didn't have to rush unlike the people in the prison where if the quickie didn't hurry up, they'd be getting caught by enforcers. which is probably not what one would want to see as they... you know, finish?
FAVOURITE POSITION, self explanatory I think vi likes having you in missionary. there's something about her holding you close, one hand coming beneath your chin to force your head up. "look at me when you take it, 'kay baby?" her voice filled with little whimpers here and there because as much as she tried to stay strong, she couldn't help the way you made her feel. she wants you to keep eye contact all the time, forcing you to look at her whenever your eyes drift away or shut closed. when you're mumbling about being close and she can feel your cunt tightening around the strap, she can't help but grab your face roughly again. "look at me when you cum." it's not a suggestion nor question, it's an order.
GOOFY, is she humorous in the moment? does she make jokes? during sex, vi is usually serious. she's not serious in a scary way that would make you rigid but she doesn't often bring in goofiness to the situation either, unless, of course, you'd asked her to. she wouldn't mind if you'd asked her for something more lighthearted but when vi has sex, her usual instincts take over. she becomes a much more serious person, her entire mind switching to one thing, pleasuring you. the whole point was to make sure you felt good and the last thing she wanted to do was make you insecure in any way. with that being said, she might murmur a couple things with a humorous chuckle. "yeah? you like that cupcake?" when she does something slightly out of your guys' normality. but of course, she knows you like it by the way your back is arching and moans fall freely. but she can't help it but tease.
HAIR, how is she groomed? does the carpet match the drapes? i'd imagine that vi shaves pretty regularly. something about being in prison for so long and not exactly having the option to. now, she has a sense of freedom about it and seeing as she can have longer showers and such i can imagine that she'd be in there for over an hour, shaving too. it also probably makes her feel a little cleaner after being in the prison (not that it's dirty not to shave some people just find it makes them feel cleaner afterwards) but when it comes to you, she really doesn't care. she'd probably prefer you to be a little shaved but i don't think she'd care to the extreme that you'd have to be bald or anything like that. she'd just prefer you to trim, at least, otherwise, you're good! as long as it's not too much.
INTIMACY, how is she in the moment through romantic aspect? vi prefers it intimate. even if she's degrading you, perhaps she's praising you, either way, she's worshipping your body completely. being in the prison, she's had so much meaningless sex that this is so important for her, you're important to her. and having sex is one of the most vulnerable things you can do. she wants not only you to be comfortable but herself to be too. she's not big on 'fucking around and getting it over with' not anymore, at least. with you, she likes to take things slow, even if it's teasing. but don't get me wrong, you can still take things slow to a intimate level and still make sure you're covered in bruises and looking up at her with big watery eyes. she supposes it's just the aspect of caring. there's a difference between degrading some random girl in the janitors closet than degrading you, her beautiful cupcake, even if she's calling you a pathetic slut. even her praises are laced with love, strangely enough.
JACK OFF, anything to do with masturbation vi doesn't masturbate a whole bunch. she's done it many times before, of course, as everyone has but she's not the biggest fan of it. she prefers to feel someone else. before, when she was in the prison, she could have any girl she wanted at her fingertips so she didn't need to. but now that it's just you and her, she has you in her clutch almost always. but of course, as every relationship, there are times when you guys can't be together. and if she's horny then, she has no problem trailing her hand down her own pants, rubbing one out to the thought of you. even if you're not there, you're still the only thing plaguing her mind. she'll think of your whimpers and moans while trying to keep her own at bay. her head stuck in your pillow.
KINK, a kink of hers don't get me wrong, you're one hundred and ten percent vi's pillow princess, she just loves having her fingers burried inside you and her mouth on your weeping cunt. she's just not always sweet about it. vi will edge you until you can't take it anymore. she loves the way she feels you clamping around her fingers, mumbling all needily about how you're close, so so close and it's as if one more pump of her fingers could do it for you. but before you finish, her hand is leaving your body, slapping down on your pussy gently before kissing your shoulders. she loves the way you cry out for her, tears filling your eyes and she has no problem mocking you afterwards. "awh, baby, were you close?" and you'll nod, all sniffly. all you needed was the sweet relief she'd promised you beforehand and yet it was the only thing she wasn't sticking to. it felt good, definitely, amazing even but you just needed to reach the edge and she was denying you of that. "poor thing." she'll push her hand down again, pleasuring and pleasing you until you're seeing stars. and just as you're ready to cum once more, that familiar knot inside your stomach, her hands leave you again. "stop whining." she'll murmur, slapping your cunt again. "or else you won't cum at all."
LOCATION, where is her favourite place to do it vi prefers your bedroom. you have a big upcity house in piltover so the girl could live in your bed if she wanted. it was surely big enough. and with your massive house, walls so thick, she didn't have to worry about anyone hearing you both. there's a difference between you and the other girls she was with, she wanted to take her time with you, make sure you were as comfortable as she would so she could touch you in all the places that she wanted to. vi thought that being comfortable was important and for her, she didn't think she'd be so comfortable doing the things she wanted to you in a public bathroom or a friends house. she loves having you in your bed, the scent of you filling the room, everything was so unique and fit to your personality. she loves being surrounded by your sheets when you finish or having your music player in the corner of the room, one of your favourite songs a low murmur as you whimper and whine into her shoulder, trying to keep your noises down but as always, she didn't like that. "don't do that, wanna hear you." because you had the power to be as loud as you pleased seeing as you were home and comfortable.
MOTIVATION, what turns her on and gets her going vi isn't someone that would get mega turned on easily although it's seemingly always in the back of her head to try and turn you on. she's done it so much that she now does it subconsciously. she doesn't mean to talk to you in that tone at the worst possible moments but when she does, she can see it on your face what she's done. that is what gets her going. she loves when you suddenly get all flustered, a little bashful, especially in front of people. perhaps you're trying to talk to cait when she puts a hand around your waist, touching you a little too much for it to mean nothing. she loves seeing the way your cheeks heat up and you suddenly stumble on your words. she just loves putting you into your place, watching you get all subby and dumb for her so quickly. the way you'll look at her to finish your words for you, or stand a little closer, almost behind her. she loves the way you lean on her mentally, making it seem as though you were incapable of doing anything without the help of your vi. then, at least, everyone would be able to grasp the fact that you were off limits.
NO, something she wouldn't do, turn offs pick this as you please, there's no kink shaming on this blog ! đ©·
ORAL, preference in giving or receiving, skill, ect vi's a giver. and she's good at what she does. she knows this, you know this, it appears as though everyone does. and this makes her awfully confident. she loves having her strong bisep holding down your hips as she licks you out, lapping you up like a dog without any shame. she loves the sound of squelching that you both unintentionally make and she relishes in it. she watches your back arch off the bed and smirks against you, her tongue embedding itself in your hole. however, if you did want to give, she wouldn't exactly have a problem with it. she'd have you lying on your back, looking up at her through your lashes as she sits herself on your face. "look so pretty under me." she'll murmur as she gets herself off on your face, her hips rolling as you did everything in your power to make her feel good, licking and lapping at her with your little kitten licks. she was so good to you, it was only fair that you gave her the same feeling back in return.
PACE, is she fast, slow, stamina, ect vi has stamina like you've never seen before. when she has her strap embedded deep inside you, it's like she can't stop. she's rough with her hands grasping your hips and thighs, squeezing the plush as she fucks herself into you over and over. vi loves edging as we know, but the night usually ends with overstimulation. and between both that and the roughness or her hands on your body, you're so fucked out and subby by the end of it that you're practically putty in her hands. vi can go many rounds all while holding her fast pace without so much of a stutter of her hips, she can withstand much more than you can with her high stamina so if you're willing to let her, she'll use you like her little toy for as long as she pleases once you're fucked out and crying into the mattress.Â
QUICKIES, her opinion on them? how often? ect not the biggest fan. don't get me wrong, of course you turn vi on. sometimes, she's sitting in a restaurant with her legs folded over themselves, squeezing them together as she tries to stop thinking about it. she fails, of course. every little thing that you do, looking at her with your doe eyes, your bottom lip between your teeth, even your grabby hands at her biceps, you make her go crazy sometimes. but as badly as she wants to bend you over the bathroom counter and take you then and there, she won't. this way, she won't get to spend all her time using you, won't get to take her time when dragging your panties down your legs or edging then overstimulating you until you can't walk. but that doesn't mean she won't tease. and boy, does this girl love to tease. she'll put her hands all over your body, squeezing at your thigh or pushing them around your waist. she speaks to you in the very tone that has your face hot as rocks and whispers things in your ear. but she won't take you then and there. she'll wait, until she thinks the time is right. then, she'll make a steady exit with you in her arms, bringing you right on home. as soon as you reach home, she's making her move. and as you moan with your eyes rolled back as her hand reaches your puffy clit, she can't help but grin. "this what you wanted, hm? got you all pent up, huh? so mean." she'll mutter, ready to finally put you where she wants you.
RISK, is she game to experiment? does she take risks? usually, vi isn't one to take risks, she likes having you inside your big bedroom, everything so you as she fucks the stars out of your head. with that being said, you did still live with your parents. and sure, your walls were thick enough but sometimes, just sometimes, there may be a couple... complications. if vi is fucking you, she's not stopping. it's her rule. so, if your mother is at the door, twisting the knob and asking why your door is locked, you're trying to respond in the steadiest voice you can. "'m j-jus'- nngh- exercising, mom!" worst excuse ever but it's all you could come up with as her fingers are stuffed in your hole. "are you alright?" she'll ask hearing the noise you'd tried to keep at bay. you mentally cursed yourself. "think i-i hurt my leg, 'm fine!" she'd ask if you needed help to which you'd instant tell her no. with a strange expression, she'd walk away from your door. "such a peculiar child." or, if someone was calling you, you'd ignore it. vi though, she'd always answer her phone, no matter the situation. "yes?" her voice wil ring through the phone, despite the fact that her fingers are still pumping in and out of you at a steady pace. when the person at the other side of the phone would ask what the sound was at one of your particular whimpers, vi would smirk. "i got a dog." she'd almost laugh. "a dog?" they'd question, in confusion. "yeah, a cute little bitch." you though, were too fucked out to care.
STAMINA, how many rounds can she go for? how long does she last? like i said before, you'd never met someone with the stamina that vi had. it was truly unearthly, you thought it was slightly concerning, actually. vi threw you around like a rag dog, her big arms allowing her to do so as she fucked her strap into you, strings of curses and moans falling from her lips. it would get to the part of the night where you're just too fucked out to even say anything, babbling though you were sure they weren't even real words, the only thing you could say was one particularly short word, vi's name. it was exactly how vi wanted it, she wished for the only thing to be running through your head to be her and that pretty pink strap in your hole. vi can last long too, it's almost incredible how she can fuck at least two orgasms out of you before cumming herself. however, when she does eventually finish, she likes to make sure that you're right on the edge too so you can do it together, there's something so intimate about having her hands enveloping yours, both of you seeing nothing but white at the exact same time, your climax enveloping you.
TOYS, does she own toys? does she use them? nothing is better than coming home and having you either bouncing on her cock or laying down as she pumped it into you, getting rid of every nerve in her body. though, as much as vi adored her strap, she'd be lying if she said it were her favourite thing to use on you. vi own's a vibrator and boy does she put it to good use. she doesn't care how you take it but if that vibrator is on your clit, she's going insane. it's one of the ones with the big wand so she'll force your legs up, holding it down to your clit and cooing as your back arches. "awh, feels good, sweets?" and you'll barely be able to respond, so wrapped up in your own thoughts and pleasure as the wand vibrates against you, sending shocks through your entire body. or perhaps she's using it on you both. she's done it before where she's hovered over you, rubbing her clit against yours and just before she gets close, she decides to add a little more fun to the mix. she'll place the vibrator between you two, watching as your clit is vibrated against it, her own doing the same as she holds back her noises, her juices mixing with your own. her favourite thing about scissoring is how messy it gets so when she's given the option to put a vibrator between you two, knowing it'll only get impossibly messier, she can't not take the opportunity.
UNFAIR, how much does she like to tease? sometimes it seems as though vi knows you better than anyone else in the world, she likes to throw this around every now and then. like when your eyes flutter closed and your hole tightens against her fingers. she knows you so well, she knows that face and those strings of moans. "you close, baby?" she'll murmur against you and when you nod with a whimper, she'll take her fingers straight out of you, tongue coming down to lick the juices from it. you'll whine at the sudden loss of contact, feeling cold and empty without her long fingers to fill you up. but when she asks what's wrong, you simply can't speak, all nervous and hot. she loves this side of you and uses it to her advantage multiple times. she likes when you're shy, but she makes sure you know it won't slide with her. "what is it you want, sweetheart? gotta say it or else you won't get it." but when you're merely whining, her hand will come down to press a slap on the outer fat of your thigh. "you have words." she'll remind you while grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at her even through your glossy eyes. "use them." and when you do, you get your way as promised. as soon as you're babbling out the words about needing her fingers, her mouth, her strap, whatever it is you desire in that moment, she's pressing little kisses onto your skin. "see? wasn't so hard was it, pretty girl?"
VOLUME, how loud is she? what sounds does she make? whimpers. what? she can't help it. poor girl just wants to please you by slamming her 'cock' into your cunt over and over, repeatedly hitting exactly where you need it. but the way the base of the strap hits against her so good, she can't help the whimpers that fall from her mouth. "hmmph, cupcake, y'feel so good." she'll mumble, too fucked out to degrade you. that's when you know it's gotten her, when you know she's close. when she's too wrapped up in her own mind, dizzy and seeing stars. she's not able to get the words out to call you her filthy slut so instead, the words tumbling out of her mouth are like praises, sweet nothings even. and when she knows you're getting close too, her mouth is like a waterfall that simply refuses to stop. she'll utter and mumble things to keep herself grounded, trying to focus the attention on you and not her flaming cheeks. "so g-good f'me, angel, always so good- huuh~" trying to utter the words before being stopped with a gasp, one that shows she's just as close as you are. the spurting feeling follows soon after.
WILD CARD, random head cannon talking about herself in third person is something vi often does. whether she's alone, telling herself that everything will be fine she just has to fix it or she has you wrapped around her little finger, loving the sounds you make. your head will be looking down to her own face, sitting between your thighs, eyes trailing over the tattoo on her cheek. you'll be a whining mess, just wanting her to touch you so you can get your sweet release. her biceps will pin you down, holding you against the bed. "shh, baby, vi will make you feel good." talking about herself as if she isn't in her own body. though you have to be honest, she did hold that promise up as her head dipped further between your thighs, tongue flat against your clit and tasting you. or perhaps she has your face in the mattress, your ass up in the air as her strap fucks into you. you're whining as you squirt again and she just cant get enough of the juices flowing out of you. but you? you're mumbling and babbling incoherently about how you're making a mess. you'll be so worried about the juices falling all over your sheets and now it's getting so messy that you can't think of anything else. vi, though, to soothe your worries, merely fucks the strap so deep inside you that you can't think of anything other than her, soothing down the skin of your hips. "shh, sweetheart, vi'll clean up the mess either." reassuring you like the sweet girl she is.
X-RAY, what's going on underneath them clothes? a bright pink strap. she loves the strap as it goes with her outfits, and her hair and everything else belonging to you. she loves having you bounce on it, whining about how you can't take it anymore but vi won't let you get out that easily. she's telling you to keep going or if she can truly see the exhaustion in your eyes, her hands are finding way to your hips, bouncing you up and down so you don't have to do any of the work. the last thing she needs is her princess getting too tired before she can finish with her. you also go slightly feral over her boobs. perhaps she's laying on her side, your legs propped up with rope she's bound against your body and you're just writhing. she has the vibrator sat pretty against your puffy clit. you're whining and whimpering, not able to keep still and before you know it, your lips are on her boobs. she's trying to contain her sounds, trying to hold the vibrator upright while your tongue swirls around her nipples. you can't get enough, just needing your mouth on something and the way her boobs feel snug between your lips, your warm drool falling all over the milky skin. you just can't contain yourself as you feel yourself approaching yet another orgasm. but this time, vi's too focused on the way your lips feel against her boobs to have any power left in her to tell you not to come.
YEARNING, how high is her sex drive? sometimes, vi can't take the way you are around her. especially in public. the way you're grabbing at her or standing close yet a little behind her when interacting with other people. she just loves it so much that she's sure she could dick you down then and there. but, as said before, she lets the tension build up until you both break. but that doesn't mean she doesn't get horny quickly. my god, this girl cannot for the life of herself go through one day without feeling a wet splotch form in her boxers. then, she blames you. perhaps it was because you'd bent over once to pick something up or you had your hands behind your back and she'd imagined tying them that way. you'd always just stare up at her and ask her when she'd take accountability for merely being horny. she'd shrug her shoulders, telling you never. and you'd believe it.
ZZZ, how quickly does she fall asleep afterwards? vi just has unlimited energy, it seems. when you guys are finished, she wants to make sure that you know you're safe, at home, with her. the sheets will be slightly messy but oh well, that's a tomorrow problem. Her main goal is to make sure you're okay. she'll place the wet rag where you need it, washing you off with the energy that she still has. then, you finally find yourself in her arms, her skin hot against your skin but thankfully the cold sheets offer a little relief. vi will talk to you while she's still awake, about anything and everything. just because she knows you like falling asleep to the sound of her voice and god knows she has enough energy to keep talking. "really?" you'll babble, all tired as your eyes are screwed shut. she's telling you random facts and stories that you've probably already heard before. yet every time, you seemed more impressed. "really, baby." and she'll only stop talking when she asks if you're still listening and receives no response. she knows you're sleeping so she tries to stay as still as she can while playing with your hair strands between her fingers, smiling softly at how good you were for her. she still has energy so she'll lay awake for a while but she won't leave, fearing you'll wake up and she wont be there. she wants you to know that she will be there, always.Â
main masterlist/vi's masterlist
#queer#lesbian#gay#bisexual#vi#vi arcane#vi x reader#vi arcane x reader#vi x you#vi arcane x you#vi x y/n#vi arcane x y/n#vi imagine#vi arcane imagine#vi drabbe#vi oneshot#vi smut#vi fluff#vi angst#vi arcane drabble#vi arcane oneshot#vi arcane smut#vi arcane fluff#vi arcane angst#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane imagine#arcane fluff
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WHAT'S NOT YOURS
Freakshow AU by: @hootbon
Promo Art ||The Chosen one (Part 1) || Off-Limits (Part3)
Word count: 6025
HELLO FREAKSHOWERS. ARE YOU READY TO KEEL OVER AND DIE??? CHLSKHCA Whats Not Yours takes place AFTER The Chosen One, but BEFORE Off-Limits! BUT they're not necessarily connected uwu they're just built off the knowledge of The Chosen one, so you know the context.
REMINDER: SHOWTIME IS NOT CANON IN FREAKSHOW AU. I'M JUST A BIG NERD- OK BYE-
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Pomni woke up in a cold sweat.
Her breath hitched like her head had been forced 6 hours underwater. And when she came to, she gasped, gagged, sweating, and panicked. Her wooden fingers were cold to the touch.Â
She thought it was all over, but her nightmares followed her into the mansion. Â
All that⊠trauma⊠that man put her through, her friends⊠but it wasn't over. She didn't think she could ever escape his wretched grasp until her last death.
And in darkness, light only shining from the eclipse through the curtains, Pomni sat up, hands in her eyes, rubbing away invisible tears from her dry face. Although she wasn't crying, she felt like she was a child just wanting her stuffed toys to protect her.Â
Upon sensing her stress levels, her new owner, blue in coat, teleported into her bedroom. â Hello? Dear?â he spoke with his unnaturally soft voice. â Is everything alright? I sensed your nerves heightened and I got so worried!â The deck of cards sat at her bed, hands politely to his lap, but ready to hold her if she so pleased.
The woman gasped a crying breath. â N-NoâŠâ
â You had that dream again?âÂ
Pomni nodded.
â Was it aboutâŠhim?â
She squeaked and whimpered at the mention, practically breaking down from the memory. Oh god. She thought it was all over, she thought it was done- but it was never done! it was never ever doneâ
â Oh! You're okayâŠ!â The blue ringmaster scooted over to bring her into his arms. His hands were so loving, warm, and just felt like home. His voice was similar to a man hushing a whimpering puppy.
And Pomni accepted the embrace⊠She trusted no one else but him in that god-forsaken place. Since she left the circus and signed up to be his little pet, everything has gone uphill since.
He was the only one to ever truly love her unconditionally. Feed her good food, dress her well ⊠hell, he even provides her fancy new clothes and a warm comfortable room. And she loved him back. He was exactly all she needed.Â
While in his arms, Pomni's breath shook but calmed down. She then leaned her head on his shoulder, not letting go. She never wanted to let go. She loved him as much as a performer could love her owner.
â As long as you are under my ownership, you're also under my protection.â He pulled away, and put a clump of hair behind her ear. â And I promise you, my little dear, you will never have to speak to that man again.â
Her breath hitched and she sobbed softly back into his arms, like if she were to let go she would fall to her death. She can't imagine living a life without him anymore. If she went back into the circus she would just try to kill herself over and over.Â
But then, she was safe⊠now that he was there⊠he cared for her and tended to her every need like no other. He truly was the best.
â I love you, dear..â Able whispered.
â I love you tââ
Caine couldn't finish that thought.
For the past few hours, Caine had been standing there, in the middle of the circus tent, completely stationary. A few hours earlier he had yelled at the ballerina and saw her walk away a lot more hurt than usual.
And for the past few hours, Instead of using his infinite intelligence to maybe, be productive, or be functional, he instead wasted his processors to stupidly think of all the timelines and possibilities that came with the consequences of upsetting his little doll.
Why did she walk away like that. Hands on each opposite shoulder. Like she was holding herself. It wasn't even the fact that she looked weakâno, he'd seen her at her worst.
The way she walked away, her whole demeanor and her silence didn't feel like fear, it felt like she was simply⊠numb.
He exhaled and twitched.
Complete stationary and staring into nothing is what the AIs looked like when in deep thought. He searched through all the different timelines, and so many of them returned to⊠him. The ace he needed not name.
The images of him caring for her, her going to him for safety, feeding her, touching her, keeping her away from him-- or maybe even doing the things that he does! Dancing with her, clothing her, Instructing her next dances -- Caineâs eye twitched. He could hardly stand the idea of his little brother talking badly about him.
These were the kinds of intrusive thoughts that he was not used to. And for the moment, he didn't care how close they were to reality. his judgment was clouded. Now, all he was thinking about was a way to prevent itâŠ
Let's see his options...
Kill him? No, he already tried that.
Kill her? No, she'll just come back.
Prevent her from seeing him? He's been doing that every time he sees them around each other!
His hands fidgeted.
Pomni was a human. What do you humans usually do after an argument?
Let's see hereâŠ
Pomni was fast asleep in bed, snoring her cares away. It was another hard day at the circus nothing new⊠Caine said something that day that especially hurt her, and⊠it was a reminder not to take the guyâs words personally.Â
He was a computer built with nothing but random data. Violent data for sure, but there was nothing but objectives in AI-- no other rhyme or reason a human should dig into.Â
For now, she cared for nothing but sleepâŠif she's lucky, sheâll think less about it in the morning. Sleep did help keep her sanity levels up⊠but if she were to be honest, a lot of the time she goes to bed in the hopes of never waking up.
Her closed eyes twitched though. To her horror, she was waking up. For what reason? She opened her eyes and adjusted to the darkness of her room. in front of her was nothing but theâÂ
â AAAA WHAT THE FU-â Pomni fell off her bed.
Caine was sat, squatting at the foot of her bed, quiet and staring.
The doll pulled her head up from the floor and turned back to him. How long has he been there?? He hasn't said a word the entire time-- and- and- how did he get in without alerting her???Â
â ... Are you slumbering?â
â God I hope so!â Pomni held her head and onto the bed⊠âit's not .. show time is it?â
â No.â
â Oh. Good.â
Pomni, with a drowsy demeanor, took one of the stepping stools and made her way back to bed. if it wasn't time to entertain the audience then it was leisure time. If it was leisure time, it was time to let herself be miserable.
Though admittedly the silence that night was just a bit more awkward than usualâ as it is when people just come back trying to be normal after a big argument. Pomni could barely look him in the eye despite his efforts.
â So what uh⊠what bringsââ
âI've come to make amends.â
The idea made her cringe. Caine? Making amends? Maybe she was dreaming. But the idea did scare her a little. What would a fucked up AI like him perceive as â making amendsâ? She's sure he could make something as mundane as washing dishes a traumatizing experience.Â
Pomniâs shoulders tensed and she did back away from him a little, holding her knees, sitting on her pillows. â Listen, Caine, Im tired⊠I guess j-just do whatever you need to do and get this all over with...âÂ
â Approximately 5 hours 40 minutes and 16 seconds ago, I yelled at you because you have gotten very insistent in your ideals. I sense that you didn't take kindly to that action. And as one of my best performers I've taken it upon myself to make amends.â
Pomni just nodded along with what he had to say. And the more he spoke, the more tense she got, and the more she sunk into herself. She was waiting for it. The catch. She was practically holding her breath.
â â So Pomni. Living doll, my star, and my dear, the Circus' greatest attractionâŠâ
Pomni closed her eyes, bracing herself.
â I apâŠâ Caine blue-screened and stopped in his speak, as if something physically stopped him from talking. He came back to, and cleared his throat. â I apolâŠâ before blue screening again.
Pomni perked up. She opened her eyes and looked over at him.
Caine was in hell. A far worse hell than any of the performers could ever experience.
It took him too much of his systems to say half the two-word sentence. Multiple attempts were made, some sounded like he was lagging, and some he stopped in his tracks to glitch out.
âŠNo fucking way.
Pomni stared on with an almost disgusted look on her face. Was it taking THIS much out of him just to say sorry?? God, he was pretentious. Sometimes she questions if he truly was just code or a selfish jerk.
He looked down, hand gestured like he was holding the bridge of his nose. This was embarrassing at this point. He should have practiced. Maybe wording it differently would be easier? âI regret-- no. Not that one.â Dear GOD how do humans do this?
Admittedly it was just a little entertaining to see him struggle in a way. It was prolonging the apology for her. Also nice to see the bastard not only eating his own words but also choking on it as well.
âI apologize.â Caine muttered quickly.
â... Didn't quite catch that, Caine.â
â You did.â
â Fair enough.â She best not push her luck. She might be the only person the ringmaster has ever said sorry to, even when it was half-assed. Admittedly, it cheered her up, just not in the way that he intended.
Caine continued, still talking strangely. â Will. you. ever⊠for. give. me.â
Pomni weighed her chances of survival for her next reply. She puffed out all the air from her chest âWell⊠why would I?â
â I planned for that.â Caine flew from her bed and back in the air, making little magic tricks with his next words. â What would you like? Food? A nice warm bath? A fire show? Money? A bouquet? fruit basket? A song and dance? Money?âÂ
Pomni blinked from his little show and rubbed her face. â I-I think I just wanna go to bed, CaineâŠâ
â Not Applicable.â
âOh.â He wasnât gonna let this go huh? â U-uhâŠâ her tired, baggy, eyes looked down. Not that she complained, but the mannequins didnât prepare her for bed that night. She was a lot dirtier when she went to bed and it was a little uncomfortable. â I-I guess a nice bath would workâŠ
â Done.â Caine raised his hand to snap and-
â Not with bubble though! Dear god, not with bubble-- uh.. Maybe justâŠme. Just- just leave me with a bathtub with towels or something?â
âHmmâŠâ The dollâs demands were getting quite pretentious. She was lucky he was feeling generous that day. âDone.â Caine carelessly put his hand on Pomniâs head--almost smacking her in the process-- which deserved a little flinch from Pomni.Â
But the basic slap wasnât for nothing, as one snap later-- Caine and Pomni would be transported to a lavatory. This time though, the tub was a little more luxurious than what she deserved. Instead of the old wooden tub that he just filled with water, this one was an actual bathroom. Ceramic with curtains and all.
â HmmâŠâ Caine stared at it for a moment⊠Somethingâs missing⊠â Ah!â He snapped, and candles and rose petals decorated the area.
â Whâ
â Perfect, I know, Iâve outdone myself.â He reached out and pinched Pomniâs cheek, later speaking in condescending speech â Now you enjoy your time here because I promise you, Doll~ I do not want to put this much effort for anyone here again.â
â Uh-â
â Adieu!â and just like that, Caine was gone.
Pomni stared over at the fancy new setting, built like the old rich manâs bathroom. Although it was minimal, she didnât know how to feel about the amount of effort put into it. She was fully ready to just drown herself in the other bathtub. On one hand, it was a nice relaxing sort of setting. On the other hand, no bone in her body was capable of relaxation anymore.
And so Pomni just stared with blinking, small eyes⊠The flowers, the candles. Maybe in the real world, this would have worked on her. But since she was here, she might as well try.
What Pomni didnât know was that the lavatory was especially luxurious because it was part of the Brothersâ home. Caine simply deleted the door to get out. But when he teleported, he was only a wall away.
He fixed his coat and trailed his eyes on his good old wacky wat-... pocket watch. Ofcourse. His ol reliable golden pocket watch. Confirming the time, He walked and made his way around the Manor.
The living room played the sound of a classical violin. Despite rarely visiting anymore, his systems can recognize that mediocre tune from anywhere.
Click!
ShutâŠ
â Oh! Brother!â There stands Able much more chipper than usual after seeing his older brother. â I had not sensed you in the area!â
Of course, he wouldn't.
â Why-- it's been quite a while since you visited unprompted! Come, let us play a tune together, I'm sure youââ
â No!â He replied with a tune in his voice, almost condescending in nature. âI've simply come to complete a simple task and I'll be out of your hair.â Caine sat on the couch putting his cane to the side, and for a moment, putting his feet up on the other knee. He looked like a man who just come from an exhausting day at work.
Able huffed internally at the rejection, but carried on anyway. Of course. The one time his brother visits, it's for work. Able wouldn't be one to talk as a fellow workaholic, but at least he acknowledges his brother, or takes his time to check up on him, or-- invites him to spend time together in special realms orâŠ
He turned his nose, scoffing. Hmph! He didn't want to play with him anyway!
Caine somewhat knew what he was doing. Despite being AI, siblings merely barging into the otherâs room to annoy each other wasn't lost on the two. Caine would know as his brother often visits the circus unannounced. It was quite the experience for him to get a taste of his own medicine huh?
Caine stifled a laugh⊠the tension in the room was immature and childish.
â So⊠How is the business? Have the freaks been putting you in any sort of trouble?â
â Of course not, why would you assume such a thing?â Caine said. â The Circus has been doing perfectly well, even without you, brother.â
â Excuse me?â
â Have you been making deals with the performers? ContractsâŠpromises of a safe haven maybe?â
Able frowned and pouted like an angry little boy, but then later put on a softly fake tone of voice. â Why, Of course I have! I mean, look at the conditions they have to live with! I'm sure our creators would not approve of suchââ
â Who are you trying to fool?â Caine interrupted and Able stopped in his speech. Caine continued, âWe're no different from our empathy levels. You don't care.â
This blatant call-out was met with nothing but silence. Able with all his big talk wasn't prepared to answer that sort of question. He simply turned away and put down his violin. He was a good AI. He was a good AI.Â
Caine can't say that the silence was a satisfying answer. He knows his brother was a cowardly character. His silence was just frustrating at this point. But Able sensed that there was no use fighting. He doesn't know why he constantly wants that manâs approval.Â
His voice dropped to a complete low, losing all sense of friendliness or masking. â... If this is about the doll, I didn't.â Able said, a spiteful tone to his voice. â Before I make my deals, I at least need to build rapport with the performer. And frankly, brother, your little dog doesn't like me.â
â âŠpff..â This managed a snicker out of Caine that he covered with a hand.
â Wh-!? What is that!?â
â âThe dog doesn't like youâ? â
â Yes!? And?!?â
Caine escalated into more of a laugh! Able was red in the face out of anger and embarrassment! Good GRIEF! The only time he makes his brother laugh and it's out of his own failures!
â You're unbelievable!â
â And what did the dog say to make you feel so insignificant? Did it try to bite you? Did it not accept your treats?â Caine has never been so condescending, playing with a baby voice and speaking to his brother as if he were a quivering child. â Goodness, you're pathetic!â
â Excuse you!?!â and Ableâs only fault was that he played into it. He has never before felt the older brother power dynamic so strongly. He laughed, nervous, but almost like a hyena with how he used it as a defense mechanism. â Ha! Youâ You're one to talk!â
â I'm one to talk?â
â Oh! ho ho! Don't get me started! Even since I met your little brat you've never been the same! It's all about âlook at her new dressâ or âlook at how much better she isâ over and over! Every single conversation I've had with you is nothing but work or that stupid little doll!â
Caine blinked, unamused, and looked to the side, reaching into his head like he was picking off food from his teeth. â I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about.â
â You--!! UGH!â he stomped his feet and started to make his way out the door. â I will be away where you cannot track me! And frankly, brother, if you need me, you're not getting my help!â
â And I don't need it~,â Caine said playfully and waved without even turning to him.
And with one last groan, Able teleported off.
As soon as Able was out of earshot, Caine erupted into laughter! That was the most entertaining thing he has ever pulled off. That might be the only good thing his brother has ever done to amuse him. Not only was he going to store that data and keep it for the foreseeable future, but it also kept his brother out of his tail.
Hmm⊠sure, he will have to tend to technical difficulties himself, but he was okay with that. He'll have Bubble chew through the wiring or something, he's sure it's not far from what Ableâs been doing.
He laughed again. Oh Caine, you're too much, you handsome devil you~
Caine left his last chuckles off, completely melting into the sofa, arms draped onto the back of the couch. â âThe dog doesn't like him,â he says! Pahaha! Haa..â
Steam covered the bathroom mirrors.Â
Rose petals passing, candle lights flickering, and The warmth of the water almost forced her to relax, but there was no amount of anything that could ever get her back to that mindset again. Instead, it just made her forget about her surroundings-- which, she supposed, was good enough.
Awkwardly sitting at the tub, Pomni was slouched, staring down at the water, her eyes following some flower petals that so happened to pass by. Her hair was done. Her body was washed. The rose petals that graced her wooden form decorated her romantic moment of self-care. Pomni sighed, long and tired. She could stay there forever. This is the closest semblance of peace she has ever really had.
Upon evenly spreading her limbs, Like a plank of wood, Pomni easily floated at the top. She closed her eyes and let the water take her. The warmth, not far from a loving bed waiting after a long day, here to ease headaches, here to help forget about everything else⊠Although she struggled, she let her body release all its tension at that moment, and just be deaf towards the world around her.
Pomni breathed inâŠ
And out..
And inâŠ
And outâŠ
But just as she was about to reach the closest thing she had to relaxation, Pomni felt something off in the environment. Did the candles get warmer? Pomni squeezed her eyes closed in discomfort, before opening them up again to-
â OH SHIââ in her panic, Pomni submerged into the water.
For the past few minutes, Caine had been floating horizontally above her. Silent, face inches away from hers, staring and watching just as he usually does when the performers were asleep.
Pomni screamed and fell into the bottom, before scrambling to the corner of the tub, where she then covered herself with a curtain.
â Ah, good! You're alive.â
â CAINE!!?!? NAKED???!?!?â
Caine blinked, unamused. Sure, he was in a good enough mood to amuse her. â My dear, what exactly are you covering up?â
â U-UhâŠâ Pomni didn't know how to answer. She knew that she and the others didn't exactly have any parts to cover up. Did it make it feel less embarrassing? Fuck no. â I-its uhâŠâ
he spoke more playfully as if speaking in the voice of a PSA narrator! â Exactly! Wood! The same wood as your fingers or the one on your cheek! The amazing Digital Freakshow© is a show for all ages where their performers have the luxury of no genitalia!â his voice went back down. â âSo what you're doing is utterly useless. And if it makes you feel better: I don't exactly care.â
This is weird-- this is weird! â Just- just- just! Turn around?!?â
Caine rolled his eyes. He really took all that time to explain something to her, and it seemed she wasnât even listening. Sighing, he turned around and just rested his arms on the outside part of the tub â Please, youâve suffered through worse, dear.â
â I-Itâs not suffering, It's embarrassing! I like to think I still have my dignity!â Although he was turned around, Pomni still kept at her corner â Is my time done or? I-I mean⊠Iâm not exactly ready to go out yet...â
â Oh take all the time you need.â âThen Wh⊠Why- why are you here? â
â I suppose you can say Iâm a little unoccupied at the moment. On the added, Iâm in a sort of good and affectionate mood.â
That sent a shiver down her spine. Good lord⊠oh no he was bored. She does not need to know what a fucked up AI would consider affection. She just smiled, gritting her teeth, and laughed nervously⊠âAh ha ha⊠that's great, Iâm⊠happy for youuu..â she continued her laughter, getting more and more miserable as she went back down in the tub, and submerged the lower half of her face in the water.
â You did me well, dear.â
â Wh-what- what did I do⊠take a bath?â
â Precisely!â
Wow. She didn't think she was that dirty. She looked up and flinched, seeing Caine had been turned to her againâ she splashed at him instinctually! â Caine, what did I just say!?â
â Oh no, I still cannot see you. I deleted my eyes for the time being.â Caine opened his mouth and revealed that he, in fact, did take off his eyes.
This sent a shiver down Pomniâs spine. He was creepier that way somehow.
â As I said, youâve pleased me today! I say this calls for a reward! Nothing less for my favorite little performer over here!â He poked her right in the cheek and retracted before she could react. â Your word, dear!â
â Uh⊠wellâŠI can't really say no to salmon⊠even if it is uh⊠it's little weird digital version of itselââ
Before Pomni could finish, Caine snapped his fingers and an eating board appeared on the tub, with, indeed, digital-looking salmon on a tray.
God, she was getting pampered pampered.
Eating awkwardly, Pomni sometimes looked at the side to see Caine, hands over the tub, swaying his head back and forth. Jesus, he might have been kicking his feet for all she knew. She wasn't used to him in this chipper of a mood.
â May I see now?â
â Uhhh⊠WhyâŠ?â
â You came out beautifully, it's pleasing to the eyes. Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?â
Pomni shivered at this littleâŠplayful demeanor Caine had on. She doesn't know the catch and she doesn't know if she wants to know.â Yeah, Caine, you have. UhâŠâ She thought about it for a second before turning back to him. â Y-Yeah, I guess⊠I mean I don't exactly remember what it's like having a human body, but lacking the parts does make it different uh--... less exposed, in a way⊠âÂ
Snap!
â Wonderful! Hello again, dear!â
Pomni frowned in disgust! Oh, his beady little eyes are back! Looking up at her like a fucked up little puppy! She laughed nervously. â Haha⊠HiâŠâ She turned away from him, stiff, back to eating her little meal. Sanity levels were recovering. She was back to being a responsive little character.
Even so, at the corner of her eye, the way he looked at her, looked like he was smiling with his eyes. She sensed-- pride? Affectionate, as he said, but⊠she can't help but feel like a prey the way he looks at her. If Caine wasn't kicking his feet earlier, they certainly were now.
â HahaâŠjust to clarify, what did I do âŠagain?â
Caine stared on, his eyes becoming more and more affectionate. â If you want the true answer, let's just say that I have visited my brother today and he has⊠nothing but good things to say about you! And so I thought my magnificent hard-working doll deserved a little reward. Is that so wrong?â
â Oh himâŠâ Pomni grits her teeth at the mention of Able. â You⊠uh ... what did he say?â
Oh, what an excuse to drop every compliment he had for her⊠â That you were gorgeous⊠pleasing design, talented... polite, beautiful eyesââ
â AH- ahh! No more! Oh god no more.â Pomni shivered from the discomfort so much so that she physically put her hands in front of him to hush! â Haha! No thank you-â
Caine couldn't even be mad at the interruption! In fact, he erupted into laughter the same way he did earlier! Oh, twice in a day?? These were such genuine reactions from each person! Caine had such genuine yet dark pompous laughter! âOh?â
â Yeah! he--â Pomni groaned. âHe doesn't even scare me! He's just-- a big two-faced jerk!â
Caine took the hand Pomni used to interrupt him and kissed it by the knuckles. He has never felt so assured. This proved his intrusive thoughts earlier that day to be completely false. The idea of them building rapport, or forming a bond of any sort was completely debunked. After all, how could they form that sort of relationship when they could hardly stand each other's name mentioned in conversation?
Pomni forced a smile at that small but direct form of affection. He seemed to really like it when she talked smack about his brother. She should keep that in mind. âYeah.. so uh..â
He kissed her knuckle once again⊠perhaps he liked it just a little too much. Truth was, Caine had never felt so secure in thinking that something was truly his. For once, anyhow. It was so small, but it was his.
Pomni later pulled her hand away, laughing nervously. He was gentle and she didn't trust it. â You uhâŠweren't lying when you said you were feeling affectionateâŠâ
â No one will ever believe you.â
â Ah.â
After a while, Pomni prepared to be out the bath, wrapping a towel around her hair and around her figure.â Okay, I think that's all. I-I think Im ready to go now if you don't m-woAHH-!â And in quick succession, Caine carried her bridal style, teleported her out of the bathroom, and back to her bedroom.
For the next hour or so, Pomni sat in at her vanity, Caine grooming her hair from behind. At that moment, he adored dressing her up. His own personal doll, his favorite little toy. Gently he brushed her hair, sneaking in little affections here and there: holding her shoulder, holding her face⊠he knew exactly where all this sudden affection came from and he so shamelessly indulged in it. After all, who was there to judge him? The little freak he was brushing? The wet little dog? Please.
At that moment, he was no different from a child dressing up his favorite toy. He snapped, picking from an assortment of clothes that would make her look beautiful while she slumbered. Snap! Snap! snap! And Pomni just let it all happen. After all what else could she do?
After a while, Caine stood her up and basked in his good work, looking her up and down and clapping in satisfaction. â Beautiful. Now bow,â Pomni did as instructed, bowing as if she had just finished a performance. âVery good.â
Once again, Caine carried her in his arms and made his way to the bed, where he so gently placed her. He was playing with dolls. He was so playing with dolls. Pomni just complied as she always did and sat politely, keeping a calm expression, trying to be as neutral for him as possible, and letting him live out his little fantasy.
Before laying her to bed, Caine just took a few more minutes to stare at her, and nothing else. Just admire his best performer. This put Pomni in unease, not just because of his freaky design, but also because she canât help but feel like sheâs missing something somehow. She looked down when she felt him touching her hand, in particular, rubbing his thumbs at the back of it.
Hoping she read his signs correctly, she lifted her hand towards his mouthy face, almost permitting him such desires.
Caine quickly accepted her suggestion and started pressing his teeth on her knuckles in a way to kiss her. It started with one, and another, and another, and another. And the next thing he knew, he stopped counting and started moving his head up to her upper arm.
Pomni allowed this no matter how out of nowhere it was. It was weird, but she did not question it. She felt him start to nibble at her though in which she-- in a panic-- started to retract.
Caine looked up at the sudden rejection and the woman scrambled to find her words. â U-Uh⊠Y-Your kisses are sweet, dear ringmaster, but a simple doll such as I am undeserving.â In times like these, Caine would be too deep into his fantasies to care about how real she was being. In his head, he was playing. They were both playing. And he loved it when she played off such a prestige woman, exactly how he liked it.
He whispered back sweet words of grandeur. â Do you question the taste of a king? I think of no one else more deserving.â
Although she didnât back away fully, she leaned away a few inches, praying it wasnât noticeable. She bore a toothy, nervous smile. She was okay baring with his affections until he brought his teeth into it. She did not want to be dinner after all that preparation. She cleared her throat. âAhâŠPray tell, what did the king see in this little⊠doll?â
â A flower is most beautiful when taken cared of.â He held her cheek and kissed the opposite. âLet it be known, my care for you was not without motives. Your beauty is a testament to my hard work. And your care is a testament to your belonging to me.â
Belonging to him, he said⊠He was⊠so incredibly fucked up, she couldnât say anything about it. When he was on his way to bite her arm, in her panic, she diverted it and kissed his gums, which, to him, was the equivalent of kissing his cheek.
The ringmaster blinked in confusion and Pomni took his moment of processing to cringe at the feeling of his melted gums on her lips. She felt goosebumps with how gross that was but quickly turned her head back to fake a smile.
But Caine broke character for a moment.â Did you just. Take initiative?âÂ
Shit.
That was so strange. As if he hadnât known that was an option.
She cleared he throat, trying to distract him again. âIs it so wrong of me to return the ringmasterâs affections?â She batted her eyes, making her feel as small as possible. â A woman cannot resist such a⊠â Pomni looked him up and down â... dentures.âÂ
She panicked with that one.
He stared at her for longer, and the grip on her hand tightened, though, it seemed he did not notice. Although he was unsure if he enjoyed the act or not, he knew what it meant. And the day that he was okay with someone else receiving it is the same day hell freezes over. With a small scowl, He leaned his face inches close to her, as he has always done time and time again.â Would you reserve such affection for your ringmaster, and just your ringmaster?â
âOf course.â She lied through her teeth.
Caine continued to speak but with a bit more grit in his voice. He leaned so close to her in bed, he had to support one hand on her back, as if dipping her in a dance. â And will you, my dear, solemnly swear that youâll live the rest of your existence devoted and serving me?â
The woman kept her calm demeanor. A small smile, but a fake one. She canât say yes to that. But with her compromising position, she couldnât say no either. â Would you promise the same for me?â
Caine was quiet, and so was she. He furrowed his teeth a bit frustrated and let her go. It seems he couldnât say yes to that either, and Pomni knew.
â... That wasnât your line.â Caine sat up, and crossed his arms like a pouting little boy.
Pomni faked a surprised face. â There was a script? Geez, oh man, my bad!â she later faked a yawn. â Wow, would you look at that Iâm also, uh, sleepy! So it seems I canât finish the uh-.. Thisâ
â You, â Caine pointed his cane at her the same way a gunman would point a rifle â Are being difficult.â
Pomni, in response, just panicked and shrugged. â Well, I-â
â But I suppose youâre right, it is quite late. I wouldnât want you attending the shows tired⊠again.â Caine got off the bed and floated off. He snapped, and the blanket draped over Pomni, drowning her in the bed sheets. â Sleep tight, dear! Itâs another day tomorrow, etc. etc. I will be visiting you a little earlier tomorrow to fix you a new wardrobe.âÂ
â Wh-?? Then whatâs with the-???â she gestured towards her current clothes that he so meticulously chosen out.Â
Caine laughed. â Oh donât be silly! Those were for my eyes only! And-- the audienceâs if they so pleased. But for now, it's mine.â Caine snapped his fingers and Pomni was back to her normal ballet dress, but more plain and comfortable, but equally pleasing to many eyes.
â âŠARE YOU KIDDING M-â
â Good night!â
SHUT!
Caine left with a small smile on his face. Sometimes he finds joy in being a bit of a nuisance. He pulled out his hand watch once again and found that it alerted him about errors within the system.Â
She scoffed and summoned an old-timey rotary dial.Â
RingâŠ
RingâŠ
RingâŠ
â Youâve reached Able.AIâs communication line! If you are an audience member or a performer: requests and complaints will be held off due to family emergencies. If you're my foul, besotted, temperish, fool of a brother: donât call this line again! Thank you!âÂ
⊠Despite how ridiculous that was, Caine couldnât help but chuckle. Ohh that was the cherry on top of that perfect day. Nonetheless, Caine AI, you have technical difficulties to tend to. Was today worth all the extra work? Yes. Yes, it was.
#The amazing digital circus#pomni#caine#able#The amazing digital circus pomni#The amazing digital circus caine#The amazing digital circus able#tadc pomni#tadc caine#tadc able#caine x pomni#pomni x caine#showtime#showtime shipping#art#tadc#tadc fanart#the amazing digital circus fanart#writing#fic#fanfic
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Beautiful Mess
Summary : Bucky tries to cook you a food youâve been craving. It goes wrong, but it also goes right.
Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (she/her)Â
Warnings : food, mild cursing? and lots and lots of fluff!Â
Requested by : anonÂ
Word count : 1.5k
Note : Itâs my first fic in 4 years and boy I forgot how good it felt writing for fun. Thank you to the anon who requested this! (I said it would be >1k word blurb but I got over the limit and I hope you donât mind!) Enjoy!
Requests are open!
âShut up,â Bucky grumbled, aggressively poking at the smoke alarm with the end of his rifle case. He stretched on his toes, metal arm whirring as he tried to reach the obnoxiously tall ceiling.Â
âOh this is wonderful,â you had been giddy with joy when the two of you viewed this apartment, âI love the high ceilings, don't you, Buck?â
He had chuckled and agreed that day. For all he cared, the ceiling could be as high as the atmosphere allowed if it meant it made you happy. But now he was thinking maybe your next place should have, at the very least, a reachable ceiling on his tip toes.Â
The shrill beeping had been going on for what felt like an eternity. Bucky Barnes has never been known for his patience, and now it was wearing dangerously thin.
Clearly, he hadn't thought any of his actions through. The rifle case was too flimsy, and it bent under the pressure of each jab. If the alarm didnât stop soon, it wouldnât just be his sanity at stakeâ the neighbours would probably come knocking on the door asking if they needed to evacuate.
"Great idea, Barnes. Brilliant," he muttered to himself, throwing a desperate scan around the room. His eyes landed on the bo staff you kept in the cornerâ a weapon from your training collection.Â
âPerfect,â he said to himself, practically lunging for it. Surely, you wouldnât mind him using it just this once. It was just a stick, right?
Grabbing the staff, he reached up again, tapping the alarm with its tip. His strengthâ which usually worked in his favourâ became his single greatest enemy. With a loud snap, the white disk detached completely, wires dangling from the ceiling as the alarm finally went silent. A part of him took in the quiet bliss for a moment before realising the repercussions. Heâd have to contact the building super, then pay the fees, and since heâs off for a mission in a couple of days, he had unintentionally given you a bit more life admin work around the house.
He cursed under his breath, staring at the detached alarm hanging limply in his hand.
He tossed it into the kitchen trash bin, as if hiding it there might make the problem disappear. For a moment Bucky just stood there, staring at the mess around him, trying to make sense of how things had spiraled out of control.
He ran a hand through his brown thick locks, ones you had asked him to grow out again. He sighed. How did it go so wrong?
All he wanted was to do something nice for you. Just one thing. Youâd been so good to himâ so patient, especially after he'd returned from weeks of missions worn down and, admittedly, a bit grumpy. You greeted him with nothing but warmth, even though you were probably as tired as he was.
And then there was the food. Bucky still wasnât sure why he'd been craving bland, 1940s-era meals, the kind no modern person could possibly enjoy, but you indulged him anyway. When heâd mentioned how much he missed a particular meatloaf recipe, you made it for him. He could tell from the look on your face that you were struggling not to spit every bite out, but you powered through for his sake. And when heâd told you about his momâs molasses cookies, you had taken the time to bake a jar that tasted just like the ones from his childhood.
It was perfect. You were perfect.
So why couldnât he get this right?
You'd been talking about focaccia earlier this week, your eyes lit up in childlike wonder as you told him about how you used to experiment with different toppings. Heâd taken a mental note of that moment, thinking he could surprise you by making some himself.
He glanced around the kitchen. Flour dusted on nearly every surface, olive oil splattered on the counter, and a sad, burnt dough resting on the baking tray.Â
Bucky sighed, leaning back against the counter, staring at the mess with a mixture of frustration and helplessness.
Youâd probably laugh at this, he thought as a self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He could already hear your teasing voice, reminding him that not everything had to be perfect.
But still, he wanted to get it right.Â
He glanced at the clock. Youâd be home soon. He had maybe thirty minutes to try and salvage thisâ or at least clean up the evidence before you walked through the door.Â
Priorities, he thought.
He cracked his knuckles, pouring the excess dough to a new baking tray. He thanked whatever gods still existed that he had accidentally made way too much dough. Not even waiting for it to rise, he shoved it in the oven and reshaped it into something that didnât look like a science experiment gone wrong.
âOkay,â he pressed a palm to his forehead as if that would magically clear his mind. âFocus.â
He realised the oven was too hot, and that was probably why it burnt.Â
Very smart, Barnes, he thought to himself, about time you used basic logic.
As he fumbled with the oven dials, he heard the familiar sound of your keys jingling at the front door. His heart sank. Shit. Sheâs home early.
Frantically, Bucky darted toward the flour-covered countertops, grabbing a towel to wipe down the mess. But there was no saving kitchen wreckânot in under thirty seconds, anyway.Â
You stepped through the door, humming softly to yourself as you dropped your heavy bag with a thud. You stretched your shoulders, straining a little from the weight. Tossing the keys to the side, you noticed how uncharacteristically quiet it is in your home.
As you moved deeper into the apartment, you saw why.
It was your boyfriend, standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen, holding a flour and oil-coated dish towel like a deer caught in headlights.
The corners of your mouth lifted. âWhat on earth?â
âI can explain,â a red plum blush coloured his cheeks, raising his hands in defense. You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to the crime scene.
âWaitâŠâ your eyes widened, âare you trying to make focaccia?âÂ
âYeah,â he admitted sheepishly. âI thought I could surprise you with it, since youâd been talking about how much you love it. But, uhâŠâ He motioned to the oven. âItâs not exactly turning out the way I planned.â
You let out a soft laugh, one that melted Bucky's heart, that made his chest thrum with joy. You took the towel from his hand, squirming then dropping it when you touched the part of the fabric that was very sticky with congealed liquid, clearly a mix of olive oil and flour. âI can see that,â you teased, quickly wiping your hand as you bent down to be eye-level with the dough. âWhat is this? An attempt at modern art?â
Bucky groaned, covering his face with his hands. You looked around the room, seeing your bo staff on the floor, and his (hopefully unloaded) rifle by the dishwasher. âDid you shoot it?â you joked.
âNo.â
âDid you hit it with my stick?â
âItâs a disaster,â he complained, exasperated.
You took a deep breath and then giggled, your shoulders shaking as you leaned against his shoulder for support.
âI tried, okay?â he grumbled, part mortified, part relieved, and fully, thoroughly, embarrassed. Still, he could feel his heart flutter as he watched you laugh.
You cupped his cheeks affectionately. âI canât believe you went through all this trouble just to make me bread.â
He shrugged, his expression softening as he looked down at you. âI just wanted to do something nice for you. Youâve been so good to me. I thought I could, I donât know⊠return the favor.â
Your heart melted at his words. You didn't care about the focaccia, or the mess in the kitchen. It was about the fact that Bucky had gone out of his way to try and do something sweet for youâ even if it clearly went south.
âBucky,â you said softly, standing on your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. âI love that you tried.â
He sighed in relief, wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you into his warm chest. âI just didnât want to screw it up.â
âYou didnât,â you reassured, resting your head against his shoulder. âI didnât even know you knew what focaccia was,â you teased.
He chuckled, burying his face in your hair. âIâm still not sure I do.â
You pulled back slightly, looking up at him âTell you what, Iâll make you an offer. Iâll show you how to make focaccia, and weâll order takeout in the meantime.â
Buckyâs smile widened, as he peppered kisses on your face, overwhelming you with as much love as he could possibly give, âThat sounds perfect.â
You threw him a clean kitchen towel once you were able to escape his affectionate attack, not that you wanted to. âNow help me clean up, Buck.â
He grabbed the towel and started in the corner as you started chucking empty olive oil bottles into the trash bin.
Wait, trash bin-
âWhat the hell is the fire alarm doing in the trash, Barnes?âÂ
Bucky froze, turning to you with wide eyes. âI can explain.â
You tried to suppress a laughter, piecing together the clues, âDid you break it?â
He raised his hands in defense. âIt was beeping, and I didnât mean to rip it out of the ceilingâŠâ
âYou tried to kill it with my staff, didnât you?â
âMaybe.â
You smiled. Oh, what a beautiful mess you had found yourself in.
-end
#Bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#Bucky barnes x you#Bucky fluff#bucky fic#bucky x you#bucky x female reader#james buchanan barnes#the winter soldier#winter soldier#white wolf#thunderbolts#the thunderbolts#fatws#marvel fanfiction#mcu#sebastian stan x reader#sebastian stan
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hihiiii I adoreee your writing, itâs so good! genuinely so fun to read. if itâs not too much trouble, could I possibly request some sylus fluff?
maybe something along the lines of MC craving lots of affection/being a bit clingy towards him and just wanting to be near him after a while of being apart?
absolutely no rush or obligations if this doesnât exactly pique your interest!! have a lovely day â€ïž
Soft
Sylus X Reader (LaDS)
Summary: Just a little fic of you and Sylus reuniting after a while apart. You doesn't want to be apart from him and he obliges.
Word Count: 818
Note: Hi anon! I know this isn't super long, but I hope you like it! I love describing how soft Sylus can be for MC, and it felt like a cute, simple piece. I can write something longer if you'd like, just let me know!
---
âSylus!â
The man lets out a low chuckle as you practically throw yourself at him. He catches you with practiced ease, arms wrapping securely around your waist as he spins you around. Itâs like one of those cheesy romance flicks, other travelers rushing around you to greet their own waiting families, a bubbly yet tired kind of mirth warming the frigid, fall air.
It had been a month since youâd seen Sylus. A long, grueling, horrible month. While you love your job, you hate the extended training camps you have to attend every few years. Always in the middle of nowhere. Always with limited contact with the outside world. Limited contact with Sylus.
You donât know how many nights you spent staring at the blank walls of your tiny dorm room, sleep nowhere to be found when all you could think about was how much you missed his touch, his warmth, him. It was like being terribly homesick, and all you wanted was to be back in his arms.
And now you are.
Even when your feet touch the ground again, you donât want to let go. And neither does Sylus. His arms stay curled around your waist, face tucked against your hair as he pulls you impossibly closer, just breathing you in. You all but melt into his warmth, nuzzling against his chest with a happy, content noise.
âMy, my, it seems my little kitten missed me,â he murmurs, low and teasing against your ear. You can practically hear the smirk curling his lips.
âCan you blame me?â You draw back a fraction to pout up at him. Those vermillion eyes glint down at you with a smug amusement, but you donât mind fanning his ego a little right now. âWe barely even got the chance to talk on the phone. It was awful and cold and exhausting. I donât know why they wanted us training in the north, we were all just a bunch of sad popsicles.â
âMm, sounds quite tragic,â Sylus hums, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly. Your theatrics are endearing, and who is he to not play along? Hands tracing slowly up and down your waist, Sylus gives you a look of teasing sympathy, âPoor kitten. Perhaps I should take you home and find a way to warm you up, hm?â
Home. God, you love the sound of that. Youâre home. With him. The thought fills your chest with a fluttering sort of excitement.
âHome sounds perfect,â you sigh, nuzzling back into him with an absolutely giddy smile. âJust, donât let me go, mkay?â
The man softens and for a moment, heâs not Sylus the leader of Onychinus. Heâs just Sylus. Your Sylus.
You make him different. You turn him into something soft, something tender, with your love. Like a balm soothing his sharp edges, his harsh nature. He never thought himself capable of such gentleness until he held you, until he felt the plushness of your body in his hands. Even though you are one of Linkonâs most capable hunters, something in him desires to treat you like porcelain, something otherwise vicious and bloody. Like a feral dog, licking your chin, body curved to be small and nonthreatening despite the sharpness of its fangs pressed against your skin.
And you never once flinched. Never once pulled away from his hands, even when his grip would edge on painful, even when his teeth would sink into your skin with a sinful need to possess something so soft, so sweet.
Though, heâll play nice tonight, seeing as your body curls so tiredly into his, practically all your weight in his arms.
âAlright, sweetie,â he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple, âI accept your conditions. You wonât have to worry about anything tonight, Iâll take good care of you.â
You hum your approval, though it sounds more like a purr. A smirk dancing across his lips, Sylus leans down and curls an arm under you, lifting you like you weigh nothing. He grabs your bag with his other hand, and starts back towards his motorcycle.
You forget all about the cold that night. Even the soreness in your muscles seems to fade away as you lay curled against Sylusâ side on his couch, a large, fluffy blanket thrown over the both of you, some movie humming quietly in the background.
And Sylus keeps his word. Not once does he let you go. Even when you start to yawn, eyelids heavy with sleep, Sylus simply lays out across the couch and drags you over his body, until you can stretch out like a cat over his chest. He keeps an arm locked around your waist, making sure you wonât fall as you finally, finally give in to the sleep your body so desperately needs.
Itâs perfect.
Heâs perfect.
And you hope you never have to go on another blasted training mission again.
---
I'll be real, I think my personal headcannon is that Sylus is like a feral yet loyal dog. I use the comparison a lot, I feel. Like, he can be vicious and wild, but he'd bow for you, he'd get himself killed for you (if he could lol). He would have a loyalty so unwavering, and that's terrifying in a way. But also? Kinda sexy đ
#love and deepspace reader insert#reader insert#x reader#love and deepspace#lads sylus x reader#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace sylus x reader#sylus x reader#sylus x you#lads sylus#fluff#love and deepspace fluff#request#lads x reader
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You don't fool me
A/n: two thing- first this took me forever to write, I kept having to go back and scrap ideas đ„č second, I did not know just how down bad I was for this man until I had to sit down and write this so.
Also friendly reminder- if your age isn't easily accessible on your profile I will not be tagging you! That said if you'd like a tag in future works let me know and I'll add you to the list!
bestie beta reader: @yukios-medic you are really the best ma'am I appreciate you so much đ„čđđđ
Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader, Yuji pining
cw/tw: minors/ageless blogs DNI, all characters aged up, dub-con that becomes enthusiastic consent, unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, dirty talk, threats of killing
Word count: 5k (ish)
This wasn't the first time they'd been paired up and sent off to find and kill a curse, but it was the first time Yuji was weary of the whole thing. They were both strong, that wasn't an issue â he'd been on back-to-back missions for weeks and it was starting to take its toll, that was the issue.
Of course, it didn't help that whenever he was around her, Sukuna would become an even bigger pain in the ass (than he already was).
They'd been sent to a long-abandoned warehouse, falling apart as it was, and radiating with cursed energy. Yep, whatever it was they were after was definitely in here.
"Split up to cover more ground?" She suggested as she looked up at him, but he shook his head.
"We can probably exorcize it quicker if we come across it at the same time, we should just stick together for now." It was a simple enough explanation, not a hint of 'I'm pushing my limits just being here with you' or 'it's easier to know you're safe if you're by my side' detectable.
To her, at least. Yuji chooses to ignore the scoff that resonates in his head as they cautiously enter the building. They walk side-by-side down the hallway, ears and eyes analyzing every detail of their surroundings.
"Must be one pain in the ass curse to send the both of us. I can feel the cursed energy everywhere, I just can't tell exactly where the source is." She filled the silence, wringing her hands together nervously.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Itâs out there, but it's all about the same output. We'll just have to watch our backs." Yuji said with a nod.
"Hey, what do you think Nobara did when she found out Gojo canceled movie night to send us after this one? I can see her practically popping a vein." She laughed softly, moving around a stack of boxes to find any sign of their curse.
"Fushiguro is probably wishing it was you that got left behind right about now." Yuji guessed with a small chuckle, suppressing the thought that he might have wished for it, too. A faint gurgle sounded at the opposite end of the hall, cursed energy seeping into every corner of their bodies as it grew closer.
Yuji covered her mouth with his hand, keeping her scream muffled as he tugged her against his chest and pulled them into the shadows.
"Shh, I think I hear something." He murmurs, squinting in the darkness. He doesn't feel the mouth form on his hand, not until her lips are moving against his palm as she makes a noise.
She's gagging; trying to pry Yuji's hand off her face. And he's going to â until Sukuna's voice rings in his head.
'Pull away and I'll bite her tongue off. Try to keep her quiet while she's drowning in her own blood'
Yuji froze as Sukuna cackled, and she still struggled in his grip, now like iron to keep the curse from making good on his threat.
His name was muffled when she frantically tried to call it, but it only left her mouth open that much more for Sukuna to swipe his tongue along the inside.
If they could conceal their own cursed energy for just a second, then it would keep going on its path to the left of them, and probably wouldn't circle back around for a while. Yuji set his jaw, glaring up the hall as he spoke.
"Conceal your energy, then we'll deal with him. One curse at a time." The only confirmation she gave that she heard him was slightly loosening her grip on his arm.
The curse slunk away and Yuji held his breath, waiting to hear any sign of it coming back. When he was sure it wasnât, he let out a sigh and threw his head back against the wall. Taking a moment to realize the situation they were still in he looked down at her.
He couldnât see the blush in her cheeks, but he could feel the heat on his fingers. She shifted her body against his, letting out a whimper at the awkward kiss she was still locked in.
Yuji swallowed hard and took a deep breath. This was so not the time to be letting the sounds she was making go straight to his cock.
'You want her so badly, take her.' Sukuna taunted.
"No." Yuji snapped his response, trying to think of a way out of this (and the boner he was starting to sport against her back).
'Fuck her, brat. Or I'll kill her the next time I get the chance, and I'll draw it out while I make you watch.'
Sukuna knew well what he was doing, keeping this conversation in Yuji's head. She had no clue what he was trying to shield her from. Of course he wanted her, but not like this. Not when Sukuna was all but forcing his hand on the matter, not even giving her a choice.
âI said no! Knock it off!â Sukuna just chuckled, and she turned her head to look up at him with worry in her eyes.
'Or perhaps youâd like me to put us both out of commission. Tell me, just how long do you think sheâd last against this curse on her own?'
Yujiâs heart dropped to his stomach. Thereâs no way Sukuna hated her enough to let her die like this, not with the way he found her so entertaining to him. Not with the way he currently had his tongue down the back of her throat- right?
'No, but if it would cause you everlasting turmoil, Iâd jump at the chance.'
Could she ever forgive him for doing this? Would Sukuna even drop this after all was said and done?
Yuji was exhausted, and Sukuna knew it too. It was only a matter of time before he could slip out and swap places.
'I could always assist instead. After all, one wrong move and sheâs on her own anyways. Go ahead brat, ask me for my help.' He grinned.
âNo, last time I let you out you were a dick.â Yuji snapped, but he was running out of options here. How long until that curse realized where they were and turned back around? He could always make a deal with Sukuna, if he would agree to it was another question though.
At the sound of Yujiâs words her body tensed, blood running cold. There was no way Yuji was actually thinking about letting the king of curses out into the wild, especially when he already had her in this position.
'Tic-toc punk ass, this offer isnât going to last forever.'
âPromise you wonât hurt her first.â Her eyes went wide and she began to struggle in his grasp again, body going hot. Screaming through his palm and Sukunaâs tongue as well as she could manage in protest.
There is no way heâs about to offer his body over to Sukuna right now, and all she could think about were all the previous times heâd spoken to her â though, at her might be a better word. Everything heâd said up to this point, his promises to absolutely wreck her- all came flooding back. Could they really not handle this job any other way than to bring Sukuna into the mix?
'You humans are so predictable, really fucking takes the fun out of everything. Iâll get rid of the curse. Just say you arenât strong enough, you need a real man to do your dirty work for you.'
âThatâs not-â
'Going onceâŠ'
âI donât-â
'Going TWICE...'
âFine! I need your help, please.â She was hysterical at this point, thrashing in his grip as much as she could, grinding her ass into him harder every time she moved.
'That doesnât sound like what we agreed to, try again.'
Yuji groaned, thankful he could use that as an excuse to let out some of his frustrations.
âSukuna please, Iâm not strong enough and need a real man to do my dirty work for me.â Yuji bit out, and she stilled at his words, stomach knotting. Any minute now, Sukuna would be breathing down her neck. Months of sexual tension, mostly from his side - would it finally come to a head now? Or would he leave it and just get the job done, let Yuji take back over when it was safeâ
A low chuckle rumbled from behind her, and the sound ran straight through her body to her core. She swallowed, realizing the tongue down her throat had finally disappeared.
Sukuna ran a hand up her chest before resting it on her throat.
âWell, well, this is certainly a turn of events, isnât it?â She whimpered, frozen in place. What the hell was she supposed to do now?
âSukunaâŠâ She breathed his name warily.
âSurprised to see me? I did tell you Iâd have you some day. So, how was I? Itâs been a few hundred years. Youâll have to excuse the fact Iâm a little rusty.â Sukuna filled the silence, not waiting for an answer.
âYou werenât too bad yourself; I think I even felt you participating at the end. Care for more?â He whispered in her ear, tongue flicking out to lick her lobe. She bit back her moan, clamping her knees together as she gently rocked back into him. He laughed, moving his hands down her body to grip her hips and pull her in closer against him.
âOh, donât be shy now, itâs just us. The brat wonât even know, it can be our little secret.â
âI-â She stammered, face hot. So what if sheâd gone back to her room at the end of a long day full of Sukuna teasing her, and closed her eyes while chanting his name under the sheets? So what if being the object of the king of cursesâ endless teasing was what she used to push her over the edge some nights? That was all by her choice - she was in charge.
Currently having Sukunaâs painfully rock-hard cock prodding her ass while he held her tight against him? She was so clearly not in charge, and to make matters worse? The realization sent her core gushing.
âI can smell you,â he continued, taking in a long breath. And this time she couldnât bite back her moan.
âSukuna!â She gasped, feeling the blush run up her ears.
âI think you should really stop being such a cock-tease, woman. No wonder Yuji canât help but fuck his fist most nights. I bet he can smell you too, he just spares your feelings by not saying anything.â The fog heâd brought with him was starting to clear, and she tried to pry his fingers off of her.
âStop! Youâre lying!â But Sukuna just threw his head back in a cackle.
âI actually donât care if you believe me, do you want to know why?â He stepped out from behind her so quickly, shoving her back against the wall, it made her head spin. Looking up at his tattooed face and red eyes only solidified how real this situation was for her - and her mouth went dry. He grinned down at her, gripping her chin to hold her in place.
âIâm going to fuck you through this wall. You wonât be able to look at that stupid brat without thinking of me inside you ever again. And heâll never know because heâs out cold.â Using his free hand, he ripped off her skirt. She cried out, trying to grip his wrist and stop her panties from meeting the same fate.
âAww, still shy, are we?â He teased as he examined the red lace, running his fingers down to the ever-growing wet spot on them.
âN-No!â Sukuna just chuckled, watching her face morph from flustered to pleasure at his touch.
âAnd look, you even wore red just for me. How cute of you.â She moaned, closing her eyes. The physical and mental teasing was too much. If he wasnât going to kill her, she was going to die of embarrassment. He sucked his teeth, hooking his thumb into her mouth and tugging her face.
âLook at me while I touch you, I wonât tell you twice.â He snapped, and her heart thrummed in her chest. It felt so good to finally have him touch her after all this time, sheâd forgotten just how dangerous he was in the moment. She nodded sheepishly.
âGood, you listen well for a sorcerer. I donât believe in praising those beneath me, but I think Iâll make an exception just this once.â He pressed his fingers against her core, watching the way she squirmed under him.
âYouâre so wet already and Iâve barely touched you, was my tongue down your throat just what you needed?â Her head was spinning, his hold on her jaw rough, but all she could picture was wrapping her lips around him.
She slid her tongue around his thumb cautiously, watching his reaction for any sign that sheâd miss-stepped.
He groaned, smirking down at her as he leaned closer.
âAnd here youâd have everyone believing youâre too innocent for such filthy things.â Finding the edge of her panties, he pushed them aside, running his fingers through her slick folds. He watched as she moaned, satisfaction settling on his face as the moan grew louder when he pushed a finger inside of her.
âGod youâre so tight, thereâs no way that brat could stuff his cock in you.â Her walls flexed at his words. Sukunaâs one finger was already so thick, and now her mind was swimming with the thought of having more.
âBut donât worry, youâll take it from me.â And then she felt a second finger at her entrance, making her eyes open wider. She tried to speak as best she could around the awkward hold he still had her in, but it didnât matter.
âSuku-na!â She cried out as he forced another finger into her.
âIâd be thanking me if I were you. Iâm feeling generous enough to stretch you out before I ram my cock into your stomach.â He offered, grinning as he watched her try and hold herself together.
He didnât wait for her to adjust to the feeling, why would he? Fucking her open on him was all he could think about while he sat bored on his throne - not that he was admitting it aloud.
So many days, weeks, months, of him wrapped up in her. He knew exactly what she was doing to him, even if she didnât.
âWas it worth it to parade around like a whore in heat around us?â He asked as he began to slide his fingers in and out of her.
âYou know I offered him the chance to have you first. Humans and their virtues though, so fickle. Of course, the brat couldnât do this.â He pressed his palm against her cunt, and her back arched off the wall as his tongue shot out to flatten on her clit.
Letting go of her chin he wrapped his hand around her neck, giving it a testing squeeze before trailing down to her chest. Groping over her top, and then easily ripping the buttons away.
âNot my clothes!â She protested, but if he heard, he ignored her. Choosing instead to knead her breast as it spilled over her matching bra. Sukuna chuckled, looking back at her.
âThe matching set, Iâm starting to think you really did wear this just for me. Is that what you do? Under all those clothes you put on, you wear red hoping Iâll catch a glimpse. Hoping Iâll come out to rip it off of you.â He spoke as he rolled her bud roughly between his fingertips.
âGod!â She cried out. He was everywhere. Pumping his fingers further inside her walls, tongue abusing her clit-
âIâll be your god.â He hissed, before leaning down to suck her nipple into his mouth.
She was fast approaching the edge, gasping for air as he shot her towards her peak.
He curled his fingers inside of her, reaching a new angle that sent white hot pleasure shooting through her body.
âSukuna!â She choked out, reaching up to ball her hands into his top. She was wary of touching him at first, opting to press against the wall instead. But it was all too much. She needed something more to try and ground herself through the first orgasm he was going to rip from her body.
âYou gonna cum, little sorcerer?â He hummed around a mouthful of her breast, looking up at her expectantly. She already looked so cute and fucked out for him; grinding into his hand to push him further inside, face flushed as she whimpered his name over, brows pinched up while she looked down to him with a breathless nod.
âPlease Sukuna...â If he wasnât so pent up himself, he might have stopped what he was doing, but edging her would only edge him, and he had no interest in prolonging his own pleasure any more than being stuck in the passenger seat of his vessel already had.
For this encounter, anyways. So, he gave her what she wanted, driving his fingers faster into her cunt, biting down on the nipple currently still in his mouth, while his other hand roughly pinched at the other.
He could feel how close she was. It was getting harder to slide his fingers back into her, and he couldnât wait to sink into her.
When he didnât slow down or stop, she took it as permission, though, the tip of the iceberg was so close that even if he had told her no, she wasnât sure she could have stopped, anyway.
It crashed over her in waves, throwing her against the wall as she cried out his name. Everything was gone - her sight, her hearing, all she could do was ride against his hand, and hope that their grasp on each other was enough to keep her standing through the intensity of it all.
Even when her high started to ebb away, he was still lazily pumping his fingers inside of her. Slowly the world came back to her, heartbeat pounding in her ears, and she whined.
âAww, is someone sensitive?â He pulled away from her chest with a grin, red eyes glinting as he stared down at her dazed expression. She weakly pushed against his chest, trying to get him to stop while she regained some semblance of normal breathing.
âSukunaâŠâ
âWell, arenât you going to thank me?â She swallowed hard, still trying to find her way out of the haze.
âI- thank you...â He pulled his fingers out of her, chuckling at the whimper that left her lips. Raising his hand to his mouth, he kept his eyes on her as he sucked his fingers clean.
âMmm, I donât think so.â
âWhat?â Confusion crossed her face, and he pressed the same two fingers against her parted lips, looking on in admiration as she opened them without question. Sukuna pressed his fingers against her tongue, pulling her mouth open as he did.
âThose red panties youâre wearing will be sufficient.â
âWhat?â The word left her mouth again, and he raised an eyebrow, dragging his fingers down her tongue and out of her mouth. She stared at him for only a second more before leaning down to slide them off her hips. She looked down to keep from fumbling, but he hooked his finger under her chin, tilting her face back up to him.
âI didnât say you could look away.â She bit her lip, shimmying awkwardly to slide them down her knees. Stepping one foot out of them at a time, she began to lift them up. He grabbed them from her, large fingers brushing her own as he did.
She moved to stand up again, but he stopped her, shaking his head.
âOn second thought, I donât think one pair of panties is worth a mind-numbing orgasm, do you?â But it wasnât really a question, not when he was already guiding her to her knees in front of him. The floor below her was cold - a shock that her core, still radiating heat, could feel.
âBe a good girl and open wide,â he said, reaching into his pants to take hold of his neglected cock. Pulling it out, he ran his thumb over the tip, smearing his precum up and down his length.
Sukuna groaned, gritting his teeth. The brat could imagine all he wanted; it would never compare to having her right here in front of him. Small hands braced on his thighs, eyes blown wide as she took in just how fucked she was about to be.
âSee something you like?â Her breath hitched as he knocked his fat tip against her bottom lip. She slowly opened her mouth, tongue sliding out and against the underside of his cock. He groaned again, grabbing the back of her head as he forced himself into her mouth.
She dug her nails into his thighs as he did, trying in vain to pull her head back so she could breathe.
âYouâre not acting very grateful. Donât make me fuck your throat, Iâll end up hurting your feelings.â He chuckled. Tears were already welling in her eyes as she choked on what he could fit in her mouth. Slowly, she removed a hand off from his thigh, reaching down to run her fingers through her folds. When sheâd gathered enough of her release, she reached back up to pump the rest of him with it.
âHow resourceful of you. Makes me want to fuck my cock down your throat all the more.â She moaned around his length, gently rocking him as far as she could take him. Part of her was screaming for air, the other wanted to make him feel just as good as heâd made her feel moments ago. The fog was back, and she blinked the tears away as she looked up at him.
His jaw was tense, one hand still at the back of her head, the other balled in a fist and braced against the wall. Before this sheâd only seen him when he was a mouth and one eye, stirring up chaos on Yujiâs cheek. Looking up at him now, though, red eyes trained on her and black markings all over his body - he was breathtaking.
All-powerful and terrifying as hell, considering that he could kill her in an instant, but breathtaking, nonetheless. She let her other hand slide down his leg to rest between her own, pressing her fingers into herself - only to whine in disappointment when it felt nothing like him.
âNeedy little thing, arenât you? Iâve gone hundreds of years without, and you just canât wait for another.â She breathed hard through her nose, trying to take in as much air as she could before he hit the back of her throat again. Black dots buzzed at the corners of her vision, the sound of her choking on what she could take echoed through the hall.
Her jaw was pried open at a painful angle to accommodate him, and he wasnât showing any signs of stopping. Her grasp on his cock grew slack, and she wasnât fighting him every time he knocked his tip just a little further into her mouth. Her own fingers stilled in her aching walls, eyelids fighting to stay open.
Sukuna huffed, sliding his hand around to smack at her cheek.
âDonât go passing out on me now, Iâm not finished with you just yet.â And he pulled out of her mouth with a loud squelch as she gasped for air. The lightheaded feeling slowly dissipated as she looked up at him, tears and spit covering her face.
âYou did okay. For now. Weâll revisit that later, get up.â She didnât have to be told twice, rising on wobbly legs as quickly as she could. The thought occurred to her, that she was practically naked in front of him, while he was still fully clothed. She swallowed hard, trying to wipe away some of the shame along with the tears.
But he didnât give her much time to wallow in her self-pity, quickly turning her around and pinning her to the cool wall. She shivered at the feeling of his solid body pressed into her back, erection still wet with her spit as it bounced on her bare ass.
âMaybe next time, Iâll let you look at me while I fuck you.â He breathed down her neck, grabbing his length and rubbing it through her folds. She dug her nails into the wall; he barely fit her mouth, there was no way she was readyâ
âRelax, Iâm not interested in breaking you the first time around. It would ruin the fun in watching you look at me in anticipation every time youâre around.â And he wasnât wrong. Hell, he was still here, and the anticipation was coursing through her. Taking a slow breath she waited, thankful that the cool wall was enough to ease the heat on her face.
Sukuna gripped her hip and hooked his tip at her entrance before pushing in. She gritted her teeth, moaning at the already over-full feeling. For the situation being what it was, he was fairly gentle as he steadily eased himself through her tight walls with a prolonged hiss. She could only stay pressed against the wall, jaw dropped in a silent moan as he filled her out inch by agonizing inch. Her eyes rolled, body unsure if she should cry out in pleasure or pain.
âGod look at you, practically foaming at the mouth. What would your sorcerers say if they caught you like this, hmm?â He groaned, bucking his hips up into hers. Her voice finally caught up to her, and she cried out, nails scraping down the wall as she clawed for anything to keep her grounded.
He didnât quite fit all the way, but it only turned Sukuna on even more. Of course, he couldnât fit - but he would. He would break her open on his cock as many times as he needed, until she fit him like a second skin. Until he was the only thing she could think about whenever she tried to seek pleasure elsewhere.
She was playing a game she had no clue about, and Sukuna was going to win. He laughed as he grabbed her hips, pulling out to slam back into her walls. They sucked him in and tried to keep him out all at the same time.
âSukuna, fuck!â She moaned, reaching behind her to slow him down. He said he wasnât going to break her, but the rough pace heâd set was literally fucking the air right out of her lungs. Her walls squeezed him tighter, and he moaned.
âToo much for you already, princess? Iâm just getting started.â Sukuna grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head.
âToo much, fuck, âs too much!â
âIâm not that brat, youâll take what I give you exactly how I give it to you. Donât piss me off, Iâm in such a giving mood, right now!â He snaked his other hand around her, tongue darting out to swirl around her clit. Sukuna grinned. In an attempt to get away, she only managed to shove herself further onto his cock.
âSukuna please, I donâtâŠPlease!â
âShort circuiting, and Iâm not even close yet. Shall we see just how many times I can make you cry before Iâm finally satisfied?â Her mind was melting, she didnât care anymore. What was she even begging for? Him to stop? Or maybe she was begging him not to stop. Sheâd never been filled up like this before; even the pain was pleasurable now. All she could do was stand against this wall and take it, anyway. Her body relaxed against him slightly, and he grinned.
âIs there something you want from me, little sorcerer?â She bit her wobbly lip hard, trying to focus on his words.
âI want- I wanna cum.â
âThat so?â She nodded with a whimper.
âBeg, and Iâll think about it.â She couldnât even be bothered with the feelings of shame looming overhead. She wanted one thing, and if begging was all she needed to do to achieve it, wellâŠ
âPlease I wanna cum.â She whined, hands flexing in his grasp.
âBeg more, you can do better than that.â
âPlease Sukuna please I wanna cum, never wanted to cum so bad. Please make me cum on your cock please I-â She was a wailing mess, she didnât care who heard her pleas, only that he might answer them. His tongue licked at her folds, snaking around his length to tease her from every side.
He rocked her into her second orgasm, reveling in the feeling of her tightening around him as she screamed.
God, he needed to feel it again. The way her walls fluttered around his thickness, trying to close around the strain of taking him. The feeling was maddening, and Sukuna was sure he could pull another one from her immediately, he just needed to pick up the pace as he rammed his cock harder into her.
The wet sound of his second mouth lapping at her, mixed with her moaning variations of his name and âfuck donât stopâ was more than enough to catch the attention of anyone close by, and as absorbed as Sukuna was in this little game, he wouldnât let his guard down. He was sure she didnât even remember what they were here for anymore at this point. If the whites of her rolled eyes and the drool currently sliding down the wall where her face was pressed against it were any indication, anyway.
He could feel her whole body start to twitch and tighten, and he knew she was close again. Two orgasms in, and he knew her body so well already. Heâd put that knowledge to good use later.
âGo ahead little sorcerer, scream for me.â And she came hard, walls clamping down on him, practically shoving him out while she did. It was enough to send him reeling, too. Hips slamming up into her, he sank his teeth into her shoulder as he finished with a growl. If they werenât both so wrapped up in each other, they might have realized he growled âmine.â He painted her insides in white hot ropes, stilling when the euphoria finished washing over him.
âIf you think that was mind-numbing, just wait until I get ahold of you in my true form.â Sukuna whispered against the shell of her ear.
He pulled out with a groan, watching her whole body quiver as he did.
âClean yourself up.â She finally looked back at him, brows knit. He ripped the sleeve off his jacket, handing it over to her. When she tried to pull it, his grip tightened, and he looked at her expectantly.
âThank youâŠâ She said quietly as she cleared her throat.
âSuch a good girl for me already, I donât even have to train you. Iâll be back, be ready to leave when I am.â
âWait where-â
âThereâs still a job to do here, isnât there? Iâve got a curse to kill.â He smirked as he walked backwards up the hall.
Yuji wouldnât be awake for a while, plenty of time for Sukuna to hide his prize. One of the many he planned on taking from her, he thought as he twirled the red panties on his finger.
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Tags: @saiki-enthusiast @alice-smutthoughts @idktbhloley @rezitio @matchat3a @mo0nforme @bleach-your-panties @fateisnotafactor @lov3ly-bunny @antishadow2021 @xo-evangeline @aramea205 @ackachii @tiredravenette @carpioassists @yoongislatinagff @unoriginalidea @i-likebread @squishybabei @emyyy007 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @kokushibosgirl @wishandluck @kimchi-zaks @kyriekurokami @not-brionnne @andic137 @tang3r1n @mammon-s
#jjk#sukuna jjk#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna#sukuna ryomen#cannot believe I finished it finally FINALLY#sukuna smut#sukuna ryoumen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk smut#lil bit of yuji x reader
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it's always the quiet ones | c.h./the ghoul
â„ pairing | pre-war cooper howard/the ghoul x f!reader â„ word count | 700 â„ warning(s) | đ smut; oral (m receiving), throat fucking, choking, dirty talk, bathroom sex â„ summary | based off this ask; We can see that Cooper tends to go for good girls (like @ghoulfuckersincorporated mentioned!), but what if he ran into a seemingly innocent - or at the very least kind - person⊠but they dirty talk like a sinner in the sack? â„ notes | i humbly offer this drabble to @gingersforeverbox đ masterlist | feel free to send in thots, questions, requests! | feedback is always appreciated â€ïž
Itâs always the quiet ones, isnât it?
At least, thatâs what Cooperâs mama always said (and he wouldnât know how right she was until he found himself shoved in a swanky club bathroom, slacks tucked under his ass as the prettiest â politest â lady choked herself with his cock).
Frankly, how he got hereâs a hazy blur of bourbon and cigar smoke.
Whispered conversations and coy looks. The flash of cherry red nails, and a well timed head tilt; a pretty little thing cozied against him as nameless faces passed in and out of view.
Another pointless after party (though far smaller of an event than he used to pull) where vultures circled the room, waiting for their chance to pick at his bones. LA devoteeâs ready to snap up the scraps of the once great Cooper Howard.
Dog eat dog; he couldnât stand the petty games âthe mindless indulgences.
So, heâd invited you as a buffer.
An acquaintanceship thatâd gone back years, having met on set of one of his earlier productions, you were always cordial and had a kind word to say about anybody. Not a mean bone in that body⊠or so heâd thought.
Now, heâs not so sure he knows you half as well as he thought he did.
âFuck!â
Air hisses through his teeth, his hands hovering over the sides of your head, unsure where to grip. Your hair looks awfully pretty (like it took a long time to force into shape), heâd hate to ruin the style. But if you keep trying to suck his soul out through his cock, he might just have to sink his fingers into those delicate curls and yank.
âS-Sweetheart, what are you â oh, ssshit.â
You peer up at him from beneath the spiky fan of your lashes and hum. His hips jump and you choke, your tongue pinned as your teeth scrape along his thick shaft.
Spit drips past your swollen lips, clings to your chin in sticky strings. The lower half of your face is a mess of smeared lipstick and pre-cum.
He pants, gazing down at you with awe. âHowâre you so fucking good at this?â
Heâs so big, stretching your mouth to the limit. A tender ache sets behind the hinge of your jaw, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
Those half-lidded eyes, dark and hungry, make it all worth it. The slack circle of his mouth, the pained furrow of his brows as he wrestles with his self control all the payment you require.
You pop off; trace along the throbbing vein with your tongue as the heavy weight of his cock slips free with a wet suction. Your thighs clench and your toes curl in your heels at the low-throated groan punched from his chest.
âPractice makes perfect, donât you think, Mr Howard?â you press a sloppy kiss to his leaking slit, lapping up the salty beads of fluid. Your fingers roll his balls, dragging the tips of your nails along the sensitive skin to watch him shiver. âBesides, Iâve seen how you look at me.â
His eyes flick off to the side, blowing wide once he catches your reflections in the mirror. He gulps, his knuckles white beside his hips. âI donât know what youâre talking about, sweetheart.â
âPlease, spare me.â
You snort, roll your eyes and shoot him a catty grin. Laugh when his cock throbs at the teasing flash of your tongue.
âYouâre sweet â as true a gentleman as they come â but you canât fool me. Youâve wanted me since you met me... and I don't get my best dress dirty for just anyone.â
â...â
âNow, before you try to say otherwise, remember whose on their knees with your cock in their mouth.â
â...No. Y-Youâre right but I⊠I shouldnât want to.â
You wink, circle the crown of his head with a red nail. More pre-cum dribbles from the slit, sticky drops you kiss away with your tongue.
âItâs okay, Mr Howard,â you say. âI want you too. Now do us both a favor and fuck my throat until I canât talk. Please, I want it to hurt â want you to make me cry.â
#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#cooper howard x you#the ghoul x you#the ghoul smut#cooper howard smut#fallout smut#cooper howard#the ghoul
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Secluded Evening 18+
(GIF: leopardmuffinxo)
Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav
Warnings: 18+ MDNI pretty much pure smut, fluff, nipple piercings, nipple play. Skinning dipping, unprotected sex, Late Act 1 Astarion
Summary: Astarion catches reader during a midnight swim. Playful flirting becomes physical. Basically, my take on reader and Astarion's first time in act 1. There is way more implication of Astarion's real attraction for reader, not just a manipulation tactic.
Word Count: 2.8k
The shadow curse land is just a few days west, and a sickly feeling has crept through the camp. The party is on edge, fighting a constant headache as you attempt to mediate the tension in a group of solid personalities during highly stressful events. Shadowheart and Laeâzel are at each otherâs throats, bickering and pulling daggers when either sends a quip in the other's direction. Karlach is still burning hot despite her upgrade, and with Dammon already far along the path, all you can do is promise to get her to Baldurâs Gate as quickly as you can. Wyll is fine, but heâs Wyll, so thatâs not surprising.
Gale, however, might be the one pushing your buttons the most, or at least he is testing your patience past your limit now. âTav, I donât believe I have to express again how important it is to acquire a magical artifact soon.â He pinches the bridge of his nose, and you get the sudden urge to whack him over the head with the book you held unread in your hands. âI will be glad not to have to feel my chest be ripped in two, but I will repeat: if I do not consume an artifact, I will die and level the general vicinity with me.â
You push off the log, slamming the novel down. Level-headedness has been one of your strong suits. Itâs the main reason you found yourself leading these misfits across the kingdom. You can keep your cool under the most extreme sources of stress, but everyone is just annoying you today.
âLook, I get it. You need a shoe to chew on, or youâll go boom. But guess what? I have given you every spare artifact I have to give. Our coins are down to silver and copper. So unless you are willing to chomp down on the stupid circlet you just âhad to get,â then you can suck it up and wait until we reach another town.â By the end, youâre yelling, and Gale looks like a kicked puppy. The rest of the camp has turned to look at your outburst. You burn with regret for everything immediately.
You reach out a tentative hand, âGale, I didnâtââ
âNo, you are absolutely right. Apologies for my inconvenience. I hope you enjoy the rest of the night, Tav.â He quickly returns to his tent and pins the flaps close.
Sighing, you rub your hands down your face. You feel terrible; Galeâs condition is excruciating, and you hate to be unable to get him something to alleviate the pain, but your supplies are down to the bone. âFuck,â you breathe, picking the book back up and storing it away.
âI must say, my sweet, I could get used to this more dominating personality of yours. It certainly gets me excited.â Astarion practically purrs in your ear. You turn face to face and stumble back slightly at his proximity.
Brushing your hair behind your ears, you avoid his eye contact. A warmth spreads across your face. âOh, I'm sure,â you smirked, clearing your throat and recovering quickly.
It was a game between you two, ignited on the beach with a knife to your throat. Harmless flirts, playful banter with no attention to go further. Attraction is thick, but neither dares to press in this dance.
He crowds into your space. His nose practically tickles yours. He plays with your hair, fingers tangling in the locks. His face dawns an emotion of concern. âDarling, Iâve noticed youâve been very stressed these last few days.â
His breath fans your face. You grab the edge of his shirt. âI think it would be a good idea to release some tension. Some alone time, maybe?â His pointer finger traced the bone of your jaw.
You smirk and pull away, trailing your hand up the contours of his chest. âYou're right.â His wicked grin widens like a cat playing with prey. âI think I'll call in early and have a night to myself. I hope you will be okay hunting tonight.â
When you were scouting the perimeter, you stumbled across a small alcove. It was breathtaking. Several willows enclosed a small lake, water beautifully sparkling in the sun. You love swimming and have been thinking about the lake ever since. You occupy yourself with finishing your book until the sun sets. Once the camp settles for the night, you grab your pack and sneak your way out to the forest line.
Astarionâs grin drops, and his arms go limp. You slip away, lifting the edge of your tent. âThank you again. Do you mind telling the others as well?â
He glares knowingly, and with a wink, you drop the flap and sit on the floor. You gather your supplies: a change of clothes, your only towel, and your washing bag.
The lake isn't too far, and before you know it, you're there. It's different in the moonlight. Fireflies buzz around the cattails, the willow branches sway softly above the water, and frogs croak on lily pads. You set a blanket to place the rest of your stuff around, quickly tossing your clothes off and wading into the water.
It's not as cold as expected, but you still gasp at the initial sting. You adapt quickly and soon dive fully, submerging into the fresh water. You stay underwater; ears plugged, giving a warped vibration through your head. Once your lungs begin to burn, you surface and gulp air.
âWell, isn't this just a coincidence?â Astarion chuckles, standing at the shore with pale forearms crossed over his chest. âI was just out on my hunt when I came across such a delectable treat.â
You bite your bottom lip, pulling your hands back and forth, sucking water in and out around your form. âWell, now that you've found me, what do you plan to do with me?â
You move onto your back and float, exposing your entire front half to his eyes. The water on your skin chills in the air. Your nipples pebble, and you hear a groan.
Floating in the water, you close your eyes. It's quiet momentarily before a large splash startles you and you're pulled under. You kick instinctually, and Astarion grabs your foot and drags you closer.
His strong arms circle your waist, and you resurface. You smack his chest. âYou asshole.â
He laughs, and before you know it, you're laughing too. You sway in Astarion's arms as he carries you deeper into the lake. Grabbing a flower floating in the water, you begin to pick some of the limp petals. You look up and slide the flower into his hair. It's adorable.
Astarion pinches your chin and pulls your face close, staring deep into his eye. There are no words; you feel the line shatter when the reality of what's happening sinks in. There is no performance in his eyes. No formulaic flirtatious lines or sexy words. What is happening? You don't know, but when he crashes his lips to yours, you really fucking want to find out.
It's like a rubber band. The kisses open the damn, and soon your legs are wrapped around his hips. One hand threads through his pale curls, the other encircling his neck.
Astarion breaks from your lips and trails sloppy kisses down to your neck. "I have waited long enough to ravish you, my dear,"
And then you are moving; he's quickly wading through the water, not once removing his lips from your throat. You know it will bruise, and the idea of another mark of his sends heat lower down your body.
You sigh when Astarion nips your neck, pressing you down on the blanket. Wet skin slides against damp skin. Grabbing his hair, you pull him back up, capturing his lips. It is messy, sloppy, and all too much to handle.
You arch up, pressing your breast against his chest. He pauses, and you whine when he pulls away.
"What are these?" Astarion practically growls, pinching your hard nipple. You gasp his name as he twists the small metal bar through the nub. He grinds his hips against your leg. He's hard, his cock presses against his stomach.
"Jewelry," you moan, clutching his shoulder. "They make me more sensitive."
"Oh, my naughty girl," he lowers to take your neglected breast into his mouth. His skillful tongue sucks your breast, his hand paying equal attention to your other. Feeling a scrap of his fangs, you let out a cry of ecstasy, rolling your hips, seeking any source of friction.
Astarion pins your hips down and pulls away from your breast with a wet pop. "No, no, my sweet. I think you have not been fair keeping least lovely tits from me. I can't remember ever seeing such unique body modifications." He gives a sharp bite to your breast, just deep enough to pierce the skin.
Droplets of blood beaded to the surface; it was quickly lapped up with his tongue, a groan crawling its way up his chest. He slips one of his legs under yours, and his hips slide his stiff cock between sopping wet folds. You choke out his name, and his mouth moves to the other breast. "I think I'm owed a bit longer exploring such a beautiful chest."
"My, my, you're so responsive. I could spend hours pleasing you with my tongue." Astarion trails his tongue up between your breasts, eyes boring up into your flushed face. "Just imagine the delightful words I could pull from your beautiful lips as I lay between your thighs, playing your exquisite body like a bard's violin."
Your breath is uneven, panting while Astarion takes his time lavishing your breasts. Soon, your nipples are on fire, swollen from the ruthless attention Astarion has provided. Tears sting your eyes. You are desperate for anything, nothing; you are not sure, but you are moaning and pleading up into the night air. All available skin was victim to your desperate fingers.
"Starion, ugh-please, they're too sensitive." You tug at the small hairs at the nape of his neck. His lips tug the metal bar just enough to pull another cry from your lips. He releases your breast with a wet pop.
You bite his neck (almost the same spot he uses to feed from you) and all semblance of his control dissolvesâyou're back on the blanket in a show of Astarion's speed. Air was knocked from your lungs. "Fuck, my dear," Astarion grinds against you coating his cock in more of your juices. "I believe we've waited enough time to enjoy each other. So, I think I fuck you, deep and slow, until you can only scream my name. And if you're lucky, spend the rest of the night pulling lovely whimpers from your over-sensitive cunt."
His husky voice purred in your ears. Your thighs clench, arousal dripping onto the blanket. "Star," you breathe out, grabbing his face and crashing your lips together. Teeth clashed, and tongues fought for dominance. Wrapping your legs fully around Astarion's slim hips, you roll up. Using his distraction as leverage, you twist your hips and maneuver the two of you.
Astarion is now on his back, curls silver in the dark, and his eyes are wide with shock. You comfortably sat on his hips, hands pressing on each of his pecs. "You have my full permission to do that, but if you don't fuck me right now, I will be taking care of myself in my tent." Lips are back on his before you chuckle in his ears. "We have teased each other for months. I think it's about time you do something about this pretty boy."
Astarion doesn't leave a moment to respond before he impales you with one deep thrust. Your nails dig into his shoulders. Astarion grabs your calf, raises your leg, and sets a brutally slow pace.
You were matching each of his thrusts with a roll of your hips. Your mouth at his chest and throat, sloppily leaving kisses and spit on his pale torso. "Ug-fucking Gods, you so tight," The sounds of skin slapping against skin and collective cries of pleasure break up the quietness of the lake.
Astarion presses his forehead to yours, breathing in your whimpers of ecstasy. The force of his thrusts is jostling your breasts; your nipples rub against his cold skin.
The moans roll off your tongue; you put a hand into his hair. "A-astarion fastâŠfaster," you choke, snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies to rub small circles over your clit. The warm tightening coils in your lower abdomen. "P-please, Star."
"Beautiful." Astarion's pace picks up, his balls slapping against your pussy. He quickly pushes your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own.
He doesn't need to be asked twice, and the cold pierce of his fangs digs into your throat. You choke on gasp, hips stuttering. Astarion is dragging, mouthfuls of your blood down his throat, his fingers picking up pace, rubbing tight circles on your clit.
The coil is tightening, and soon, you cannot form words outside of Astarion's name between pleases. "Oh, my sweet girl, so lost on my cock. I...fuck...I know it feels good."
He pinches your left nipple again and you whimper. "Your body is exquisite. I won't be able to last much longer, my love." His voice is hoarse, and he rambles between frantic ruts. He presses his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply.
Astarion presses kisses and licks to the hollow of your throat. He is asking for permission, and you quickly press him closer. "Yes, please," you groan. All the sensations Astarion was giving you were becoming too much. You were quickly approaching the edge.
The pain mixes with pleasure, and it's too much. Tears prick at your eyes. You ticken around hos cock and a rumble ruptures through his chest. He takes a few more gulps before pulling away. Astarion's tongue licks, ensuring no waste of your blood.
As soon as he pulls away from your neck, he's pushing his tongue into your mouth with a quick thrustâthe metallic tang of your blood mixes between your mouths. "I'm close," you breathe, running your nose against his. Your panting, feeling like no breath can satisfy your burning lungs.
His thrusts are becoming sloppy, devolving into more grinds of hips. His fingers drag over your clit in tight, fast circles. "Me too," he's just as breathless, hips stuttering with pleasure. "Come for me, darling, let me hear you."
It's like your body was waiting for his honey-slick words to give you permission. Because the moment those words leave his devilish lips, you snap. You scream his name, legs pulling him close.
You didn't expect post-sex cuddles from Astarion, but gods, you could fall in love with this man if you weren't careful. But would that be too bad? To fall in love? You kiss his collarbone and pull your towel over the majority of your body.
With one, two, three more deep thrusts. Astarion comes with a breathy moan spilling deep into your core. You two lay there, tangled in each other's body. Hearts are pounding as you breathe each other's air.
Astarion pulls out and rolls to his back. You curl onto his chest, laying your ear over his silent heart. He plays with your hands and peppers kisses over your hairline.
You wish to stay the night in his arms right here, just having him hold you. But Astarion stiffens slightly when a shiver rolls through your body. It's like the bubble of serenity pops. Astarion is quick to remove himself from you.
"I don't believe cuddling wet and naked with a vampire is good for one's health." He's pulling his clothes on. And reluctantly and with shaky legs, you follow his lead. Astarion is quiet on the walk back, lost in thought. He plays with a coin mindlessly.
You don't push, knowing Astarion better than to pry. So you let him walk you to your tent. And just as you move to duck into your bed for sleep, Astarion grabs your wrist.
You turn and look up into his scarlet eyes. His expression is hard to read; his confusion, hesitancy, affection, and anger are fluidly behind his eyes. They could all fit, but nothing seemed to reflect Astarion's eyes. "IâŠ" He pauses, thumb rubbing the back of your hand. He opens his mouth again but clicks it back close. Astarion searches your eyes as if they held the answer to his unspoken question.
Astarion doesn't seem to find what he's looking for because he shakes his handâpressing a light kiss to the apple of your cheek. He drops your hand reluctantly. "Have a good night, my dear,"
Then he's gone, leaving you alone, the tingle of his lips still lingering on your skin. Your fingers trail across your cheek, and a small smile stretches your lips. Yeah, you could very easily fall in love with that man. Maybe you already have.
Okay let me know what you thought? I haven't written smut in forever and have never been super confident in it.
If you liked this how about checking out my other two Astarion pieces.
Happy Birthday **** Reoccurring Nightmares
#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#reader insert#fanfic#bg3#astarion#astarion ancunin#smut#astarion imagine#bg3 astarion#astarion x f!tav#astarion x f!reader#astarion x female tav#astarion x female reader#astarion smut
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€woodshop teacher!joel miller x f!reader
genre: smut, minors dni
word count: 2k
summary: there are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching mr. miller do something heâs undeniably good at.
warnings: semi-public fingering, dirty talk, reader has a small exhibitionism kink, competency kink
a/n: special thanks to the anon who requested this! I enjoyed writing it thoroughly â€ïžâđ„
There are many advantages to enrolling in a woodshop class: drawing you away from not-so-happy thoughts, relearning something that you enjoyed doing when you were a kid, and, well, the sight of watching Mr. Miller do something heâs undeniably good at.
The sleeves of his flannel were rolled neatly up to the elbow, exposing his forearms, strong and dusted lightly with sawdust from earlier. You watch intently as Mr. Miller takes the carving tool in his hands, demonstrating how to use it to the class. Youâre out of breath. Completely entranced by the way his muscles flex and ripple in his forearms - beautifully defined beneath the rolled-up sleeves of his flannel shirt. Unlike the other students who take in the information in a more appropriate way, all you can focus on is the gathering wetness between your legs.Â
So much so that you donât even realize that Mr Miller had instructed the class to start carving. Youâre dumbfounded when you suddenly find the man staring right in front of your working bench, staring down at you with an amused gaze.Â
âSometinâ wrong with your tools?âÂ
Heat rushes to your cheeks. God. Youâre an idiot. You open and close your mouth, heâs so closeâclose enough that you can breathe in his scent which you identify as pine.Â
âNoâNo. Just. . .âÂ
He leans over the bench, his hands landing on the edge, fingers spreading over the smooth surface. Your eyes drop almost by instinct. You see the faint scars littered across his skin.Â
âDistracted?â he finishes your sentence for you. You meet his gaze, heart beating in your throat, you expect to see an expression showing you that youâve been caught doing something bad but much to your surprise, you see the lingering traces of worry. âWe should talk âbout it after class. Sound good?âÂ
Does he really not see the state youâre in? That youâre practically soaked to your coreâready to say yes to anything that comes out of his plush lips. Is he that oblivious to his charm?
âYeah,â you mutter, grabbing one of the carving tools sprawled out. You wrap your fingers around the material, squeezing it, your thumb faintly caresses the contour. His eyes flicker at the subtle movement. âSounds good.âÂ
âYou gonna tell me whatâs going on or are we goinâ to continue to have a stare-down until my next class?âÂ
Heâs smiling, however, it does little to calm your raging nerves. Itâs been almost ten minutes since class had ended. A class that truly tested the limits of your patience. You barely managed to carve a line, your eyes were fixed on him, his hands, his arms. . . Your mind showed you one image after another, forcing you to think of the answer to questions like: how big is his cock? How fast could he make you come with just his fingers?Â
Fuck, the thought alone is enough to make you weak in the knees.Â
âSorry,â you blurt out, coming closer to the desk. âToday will be the last time, promise.âÂ
He hums as he leans back into the chair, his legs parting. You feel another fresh wave of arousal coursing through you. âDo you know how long youâve been taking my workshop?âÂ
âUh. . . three weeks?âÂ
âGood,â he nods. âAnd can you tell me how many times I caught you just starinâ instead of doinâ?âÂ
âA. . . reasonable amount?âÂ
He cocks an eyebrow, âNot a reasonable amount.â When you remain silent, simmering in your own embarrassment, he continues. âIt looks like I ainât the right teacher for you. And I care whether people learn a thing or two in my class so I wrote you down a number.âÂ
He rolls back a bit, opening the drawer, he picks up a card. Youâre completely in shock as he stands, handing you the aforementioned card. When you look at it you see the name Tommy Miller written on it along with a phone number.Â
âThatâs my brother,â he explains. âHe has a different approach than I do. Younger too, which may benefit you.âÂ
âI. . . what? AreâAre you kicking me out of your class?âÂ
You canât help the quiver that accompanies your question. Youâre an idiot. A huge idiot. You made him think that heâs no good in teaching which couldnât be further from the truth. Still in shock, you stare down at the card and back up to him. He seems just as surprised as you are.
âNo, no, I ainât kickinâ you out. I just. . . I thought this would help. I didnât mean to. . .âÂ
âItâs your handsââ you finally snap, taking him by surprise. Your brain is screaming at you to shut up but you canât. Not knowing what else to do, you cover your face with both hands, breathing heavily into your palms. Your wood carving career is over. âYou justâshitâyou just look so good doing what you do and itâs been so long sinceâwell, itâs just really distracting,â you feel the card with his brotherâs number slip through your fingers, heâs not saying anything. Fuck. âThatâs why I was. . . distracted. It has nothing to do with you or your teaching style. Youâre great.âÂ
You should let yourself out now. You really should.Â
âYou think I look good?â The quip catches you off guard and you dare to lower your hands. Heâs smiling again, beaming actually, he looks thoroughly pleased with himself. You blink.Â
âYou really didnât know?âÂ
âNope,â he looks down sheepishly. âI ainât good at readinâ signs and itâs been long for me too.âÂ
He takes a step closer, pushing you back until the edge of the desk is biting into your flesh. Your breath stutters. He cages you in, muscular arms on both sides of your hips. He tilts his head and kisses your cheek. You close your eyes at the brush of his lips. His hands toy with the zipper of your jeans. âTell me what you were thinkinâ durinâ class and maybe Iâll give you a gold star.âÂ
âOh fuck,â you breathe out, rolling your hips forward. He grins against your skin. âI. . .I thought about your hands and how they would feel like. I also thought aboutââÂ
You cut yourself off. He prompts you to continue by lowering the zipper. âYou also thought about what?â he murmurs. âDonât be a bad girl now. I know you wanna be good for me.âÂ
You do. You really fucking do.Â
âI thought about how big your cock might be,â you gasp. âI thought about how good it would feel to have you inside me.âÂ
Mr Miller takes your hand and brings it to the rather impressive bulge between his legs. Your body warms as you cup him gingerly. Despite the soft touch, his eyes still roll back. âWhy donât you tell me how big I am?â he murmurs, thrusting into your palm. Fuck, he feels huge underneath the denim.Â
âReally big,â you answer, stroking him. âYouâre huge Mr MillerââÂ
âJoel,â he groans. âCall me Joel.âÂ
âJoel,â you moan. âJoel. Are you going to fuck me with this big cock of yours?âÂ
He chuckles, âSadly no. We canât now but. . .â You shudder at the feeling of his teeth nipping at your chin. He pushes back your hand and swiftly tugs down your pants. âIâll give you my fingers, sweetheart. Want to feel you creaminâ around them.âÂ
You tremble at his touch. Two thick fingers moving between your dripping lips, spreading them, teasing your entrance. Your breath hitches as he swirls the pads of his fingers around your clit. You melt against him, forehead falling to the front of his shoulder as he circles, circles and circles them. Your slick coats his fingers, trickles down his wrist. Those skillful hands now a mess.Â
âYou werenât kiddinâ,â he says into your hair. âYouâre fuckinâ soaked for me.âÂ
âFor you,â you agree, grinding your hips. âGive them to me. Please please pleaseââÂ
âShhhhhh keep quiet or Iâm gonna have to spank yaââ A wanton moan rips from your throat and you pulse, a gush of liquid drenching you both. The sounds that come out of you are obscene. âYou like that huh?âÂ
You nod desperately. His chest trembles as he lets out a low chuckle. âSo honest. âGuess you deserve a reward.âÂ
His fingers slide into you with ease, two of them sliding in and out, the heel of his palm pressing into your clit every time he plunges them deep inside. âFuck,â he hisses through clenched teeth, scissoring his fingers. âHow are you this worked up? How the fuck are you so wet? Shit sweetheartââÂ
You know. You know how wet you are. He thrusts his fingers knuckle deep, curling them, liquid heat drips down your spine, every muscle tensing with the promise of release. The sounds of him fucking you fills the workshop. The door is unlocked, you know this, there was no reason for either of you to think of locking it before. The thought of people seeing, someone watchingâ
Your head falls back as a whimper slips from your lips, his eyes find your own, dark with arousal. His thumb rubs at your clit. âTell me,â he orders.Â
âYou have class soon,â you oblige, the thought making you clench. His brows furrow.Â
âYeah?âÂ
âPeople might see,â you add, just a hint of a teasing lilt in your voice. Your tone goes completely over Joelâs head, the tease prompting his fingers to still. Your groan in frustration, hips desperately jerking for the friction to continue. Â
âYou wanna stop?âÂ
âNo, Joel. I. . .â Oh god, you canât word it out. Itâs making you flustered. âItâs kinda hot. . . that people might see.âÂ
âOh,â he blinks then a second later his lips curl into a mischievous smile. âOh.âÂ
And when he understands where youâre coming fromâall hell breaks loose.Â
Joel pushes you up the desk, nestling himself between your legs, your muscles left trembling at the stretch. He slips in another finger, fucking you thoroughly with three of them. Your jaw goes slack, your body burning from the inside out. You try to bite back the sounds but itâs hard when youâre left so exposed. It feels goodâit feel amazing. Youâre stammering over your words, somewhere between wanting to beg him and wanting to tell him how mind-numbingly beautiful this feels. His fingers stroke your deepest parts, applying pressure on just the right spot.Â
âIf you canât handle this thereâs no way you can take my cock, honey.â Your breasts feel heavy and full, nipple going hard at the gravel in his voice. You want to touch him so bad, have his cock in your mouth, worship him with your entire body. âCome on, sweetheart, let me feel how good your pussy feels when you come. Fuckinâ make a mess of the desk. Iâll just fuckinâ make a new one and you can soak that one tooââÂ
Youâre chanting his name with hushed whispers, over and over. A familiar heat and tingle settles in your stomach, your cunt fluttering around his fingers, it doesnât take you long after that. He keeps moaning about how good youâre feeling, about how heâll be thinking about your perfect wet pussy when the next class starts. Itâs all too much. Unbearable.Â
âLook at me,â he growls and you barely hear him. He slips his fingers into the knots of your hair and yanks your head back. Your eyelids flutter as you stare directly at him. He bares his teeth. âFuckinâ come for me.âÂ
Your jaw drops, all care about keeping silent floating from your head as the most guttural moan rips from your throat. Itâs so intense that you can physically feel yourself creaming around him, the slick at base of his finger a shade darker. âAtta girl,â he keeps saying into your mouth, over and over. Youâre still coming, your insides left throbbing and raw.Â
The two of you stay like that for a while. His fingers still knuckle deep, panting heavily, both your bodies glistening with sweat. His forehead falls against yours and you sigh happily, a smile touching your lips.Â
You expect him to kiss you but he doesnât, it almost feels like heâs holding himself back. Instead, he brushes your lips together, expression almost painful.Â
âYou got any plans for tonight?âÂ
You shake your head.Â
âCan I take you to dinner?âÂ
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character fanfic#the last of us fanfic#tlou fanfic#joel miller au#requests
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Threats - Peter Pan
Peter x Fem!Reader
Warnings: nothing really
Word count: 411
Summary: Peter getting angry when someone threatens you infront of him.
Masterlist
Once Upon A Time Masterlist
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âPeter!â Y/n yells out as sheâs grabbed by the Evil Queen with a ball of magic near her face.
âRegina.â MarryMargret worried for the young girl currently being held in Regina's tight hold with a magic ball of purple flames near her face.
âI wouldnât do that if I were you.â Peter growled with narrowed eyes once he turned towards where his lost girl called for him in distress.
âGive us back Henry and I wonât hurt your little lost girl.â Regina bargained.
âRegina, we don't need to threaten anyone.â Emma spoke up telling Regina, looking at the young girl a couple years older than their Henery.
âI agree Lass. Not a good idea. Especially not a good idea to threaten her specifically.â Hook stepped forward gesturing with his hook to the girl in Reginaâs grip.
âAnd whyâs that Pirate?â Regina rolled her eyes at all the pleading to let the Y/h/c-ed girl go.
âSheâs not just a lost girl. Sheâs Panâs lost girl.â Hook stated to the Evil Queen.
âNo duh.â Regina scoffed.
âWhat KIllian means is she is mine. Let go of her. Now.â Peter walks closer getting increasingly more angry every minute Y/n was still being held against her will.
âOr what?â Regina gripped Y/n tighter, testing Panâs limits and to see if heâs bluffing.
âYouâll regret it.â Peter grumbled with a really dark look on his face. âDonât forget this is my island and your sonâs life is in my hands. What do you think Iâll do if you hurt my Y/n?â
âReginaâ MaryMargaret pleads for her to let the girl go, trying to sound more stern. Not wanting to have Peter hurt Henery in any way as retaliation.
âLet her go.â David added with worried eyes for them, Henry, and Y/n. KNowing what Regina is capable of, they were all worried for Y/n.
Regina sighed and loosened her grip on Y/n and the second Peter noticed he grabbed his lost girl and pulled her into him.
âDonât lay a finger on her again.â Peter practically snarled at the StoryBrooke gang and he checked Y/n over for injuries. Before giving the signal for them all to retreat.
âThank you.â Y/n turned around to look back at Emma, Hook, David and MaryMargret with an innocent smile.
Peter smiled at her manners, that's his Y/n. And it was entertaining to see their shocked faces at her thanks.
Taglist: @padawancat97
#y/n#x reader#imagine#imagines#x y/n#once upon a time#once upon a time imagine#once upon a time imagines#once upon a time peter pan#peter pan x reader#peter pan#peter pan imagine#peter pan imagines#regina mills#emma swan#david#marymargret#snow white#prince charming#charming#evil queen#saviour#henry#henry mills#lost boys#lost girl
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people pleaser
stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)
genre: fluff, angst
content warnings: toxic friends
word count: 3.6k
summary: in her one kid's room episode, y/n reflects on how it was hard for her not to be so kind and sweet to everyone, because she just wanted them to like her.
MAIN MASTERLIST
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The music at the start of the video played, cutting between different things the members were saying.
"Ah, she's too kind for her own good," Seungmin shook his head with a slightly sad smile.
"She hypes everyone up, she's like a mood maker of the group," Lee Know added on.
"Y/N is very selfless," Jeongin said turning his head to the others as they nodded.
"One Kid's Room, Y/N!" Y/N smiled into the camera, relaxed into the armchair with her comfy purple fleece on.
âąâąâąâąâąâą
Ever since the group's trainee days, Y/N had been a people pleaser. Not that she realised that fact about herself, until it came to the future where she would reflect on herself.
She remembered when she had seen Han around the practice rooms, and it didn't matter what he did, singing, dancing or rapping... he was talented in all areas. He was even charming to her despite his shyness occasionally. She knew for sure he'd debut soon, he was an ace after all. There were also rumours going around that her good friend Chan was creating a group to join the showcase and have a chance at debuting. She wanted to be like him, so she made a lot of effort to greet him and be kind to him.
"Hi Jisung!" she would wave at him as she passed him in the corridors of JYP Entertainment.
Of course, Han being Han, would wave back without really knowing who she was at first, but he felt too awkward to ignore her. When he spoke to his hyung about a pretty girl always saying 'hello' at him, Chan was quick to tell Han about who his friend Y/N was (and also that she was off limits because he was thinking of adding her to the group but he didn't tell Han that last part).
Soon they became more comfortable around each other and Y/N found herself practising singing songs with Han, wishing she could belt notes like he could too.
"Wow, you're so good at hitting those higher notes! I wish I could do that," Y/N turned her head towards Han, from where they were both lying down on the practice room floor, feet pointed outwards to opposite walls but their heads side by side.
"Hey, you've got a great voice too, you know?" Han quickly moved his head to the side to look at her, but decided against it and stared right back up at the ceiling.
"You really think so?" Y/N's voice wavered. She needed reassurance, she knew that herself. There was still a long way to go, but she'd get to a place she wanted with her voice one day.
"I know so. Maybe one day you could be my backup singer?" Han said casually, before belly laughing when Y/N leaned over and turned to him with a pout.
"Hannnn!" she whined.
"Yah, you know I'm joking, just keep practising, you'll do great, yeah?" Han said genuinely, before standing up and hauling her up himself as they left the practice room.
âąâąâą
The next to join the group Chan was preparing for was a boy the same age as her, Jeongin. He was cute, Y/N thought, shy as well and maybe even similar to herself in some ways for wanting the approval of others, especially their future leader.
Dropping her bag in the corner of the room, first to arrive, Y/N quickly exited the practise room realising she needed the bathroom. Only to return to see Jeongin sheepishly standing in the entrance, Han looking away and Chan stood in the middle of the room with his arms folded.
"Jeongin you should have been here ten minutes ago," the Australian guy frowned running a hand through his hair. Ten minutes? Wow, Chan could be scary sometimes, and Y/N didn't regret joining the group lineup so far, but he was pretty strict.
"I-i was just..." Jeongin tried speaking up but clearly didn't have the words to explain why, practice bag in between his legs and hands clasped nervously behind his back.
"Oh that's my fault, Chan," Y/N decided to lie for him and came forward and stood next to Jeongin, resting her hand on his shoulder as they stood at the same height, "I was showing Jeongin this video at the dorms and I insisted he watch it before we leave..." she even looked off to the side awkwardly, and that part was genuine because the moment Chan let out a huff through his nose, she felt intimidated.
"Guys.... ugh, just, get ready for practice, yeah?" Chan sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose as the two youngest rushes to one side of the room.
"Why did you do that?" Jeongin whispered, pulling out his bottle of water.
"Because I want to know why you were really late," Y/N joked and nudges his shoulder, making him laugh.
"Guys, stop messing around!" Chan rolled his eyes. Y/N wasn't so sly, he saw her bag that had already been there, and knew she hadn't arrived at the same time as Jeongin, but he allowed the excuse nonetheless.
âąâąâą
Walking back into the dorms after a busy shift at work, with school the next day, hearing a loud argument was not ideal at all for Y/N. And of course, it had to be between Han and Hyunjin. The taller boy had recently been recruited by Chan after his exceptional dance skills and potential. Perhaps Han was jealous? Y/N didn't really know, all she wanted was her bed right now but she hated the confrontation she heard.
"You can't just leave your things around everywhere! You're so messy!" Hyunjin yelled at Han.
Y/N peeked her head round the hallway after taking off her coat and shoes to see them yelling at each other in the lounge. Chan and Jeongin were nowhere to be seen - they must be out somewhere.
"I was here first! You think I care about your complaints? Get over yourself!" Han shouted, fists clenched at his sides.
"Oh so it's not ok for me to complain, but you get to act like a spoilt brat and like you're better than everyone else?!" Hyunjin yelled once more.
"Guys, what are you doing?" Y/N yawned, staring at the shouting boys who immediately flipped round to their dongsaeng.
"Oh, hey Y/N," Hyunjin's eyes softened, and so did his tone as he saw her standing there tiredly.
"What are you doing up so late?" Han questioned, glancing across at her.
"She works, remember? Gosh, you don't care about anyone but yourself and-" Hyunjin shouted before Y/N quietly cut him off with her calming demeanour.
"Stop. Just stop. You ask me why I'm up late but you two are up awake and arguing... If we're gonna be a team we can't go on like this. And that's not fair to Chan," Y/N shook her head sighing. She couldn't even look at the boys, but from the resounding silence there was she hoped her words had gotten through to them.
"I guess you're right," Hyunjin nodded, shifting awkwardly on one leg.
They all looked at Y/N as if seeing her in a whole new way, she seemed more mature than ever in that moment.
"We all have early starts tomorrow, don't we?" Y/N checked with them, chewing on her lip.
"You're right we do," Han sighed and nodded.
"Right, let's sleep then," Y/N nodded and rushed off to her room, not wanting to be in that situation again. She liked offering her advice, yes, but being the voice of reason? That felt like another level of having responsibility.
"Let's not fight again," Hyunjin whispered, tired himself, physically and emotionally.
All Han could do was roll his eyes and nod as they retreated to their rooms.
It may not have been the last time they fought, but they both put in more effort to control their emotions.
âąâąâą
3RACHA was completed. Changbin joined Han and Chan in making music and releasing in onto SoundCloud together, and despite his darker aura, the boy was one of the most caring guys she had ever met.
He would check up on her often, noticing her floating away into her own little world. It happened again one day, when Y/N was sat in the studio with the three guys, until Chan and Han went to collect lunch.
"You good, Y/Nnie?" Changbin asked, breaking the comfortable silence that was in the room.
"Hmm, yeah, why?" Y/N wiped sleep out of her eyes as she saw him staring back at her.
"It's ok, you know, to be upset, or tired," Changbin gently spoke, sensing from the start that she was a sensitive, soft soul.
"I'm not upset... I just need to improve, that's all..." Y/N sighed, curling up into a tighter ball on the sofa, tugging a blanket over her legs.
"I saw your face after the staff spoke to you," Changbin informed her, helping to straighten out the blanket.
"They just said that I shouldn't expect to be a part of the group if I'm dancing and singing the way I do and that even a rat would have done a better job," Y/N shrugged, not able to look at Changbin.
"They what? They can't say rude shit like that to you!" Changbin stood up, arms folded.
"I-it was just constructive criticism," Y/N jumped slightly, not expecting the strong reaction from her fellow group member.
"No, they were rude to you, there's a difference between constructive criticism and being rude. How is what they said helpful in any way?!" Changbin growled, shaking his head with a clenched jaw.
"I just caught them in a bad mood-" Y/N shared the thought that was playing over and over again in her head, eyes shining as she looked up at Changbin.
"No, you didn't, ok? It's alright," Changbin side hugged her to him, joining her back on the sofa, "it's ok to feel sad from what they said, I just want you to talk to me about it, I'm here. Now, come on, Chan and Han will be back with food soon."
âąâąâą
Next to join the group was a charming freckled boy, also from Australia. He had quickly grown close with Chan from their shared nationality, but Y/N craved to be close with him too. She wanted him to like her, after all, she got on well with her other members, so she found herself worrying when she hadn't really had a chance to bond with him yet.
He was a cute and loveable guy, and with the language barrier, Felix not really knowing a lot of Korean yet, Y/N felt disheartened when her words would be met with a blank look from him. She just hadn't connected the dots yet, not realising it was because her quick ramblings in Korean were an overwhelming whirlwind of incomprehensible words.
"Hi Felix! I'm so glad you joined the group, you've got such a cool voice I think it will really make us stand out!" Y/N gushed to Felix after they all did a vocal practice together.
"Thank you," Felix awkwardly answered before looking away at the ground, smiling bigger only when Chan stood next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.
That was when Y/N decided she needed to find a better way to communicate with Felix, so she started writing notes, using an online translator to write an English translation below her Korean words, to tell him words of encouragement and show him she was there as a friend.
âąâąâą
"Thanks Y/N! See you soon, maybe," Y/N's trainee friends giggled as they left the lobby of JYP, Y/N waving goodbye to them as she zipped her purse back up.
"What was that about?" Seungmin spoke up, leant against the wall opposite her.
"Oh, umm, my friends asked if they could borrow some of my money to get some snacks," Y/N grinned, feeling happy she was able to help her friends.
"You didn't have to do that... give them your money so easily," Seungmin shook his head, walking over and standing closer to her now.
Seungmin was recognised for his polite nature and gorgeous voice, hence his joining of the group.
"It's ok, really, they needed it and plus they said they'd pay me back," Y/N defended her friends, lips pursing when she saw Seungmin frown.
"Whenever I see those friends of yours they ask for money," Seungmin was trying really hard for Y/N to see sense.
"It's fine I have a part time job for a reason," Y/N smiled, trying to brush away Seungmin's concerned but it only made it worse.
"Yeah, not to fund their snacks," his eyes only widened in response.
"They need it," Y/N's voice became higher pitched, as she was desperate for Seungmin to believe her and just leave alone the subject. She didn't want to be in any sort of argument with him but he also didn't want him to be thinking badly of her friends.
"So do you, please be careful around them," Seungmin sighed and patted her shoulder, seeing she wanted to leave the subject alone, as they both left the company.
Later that night at the dorms, Y/N and Seungmin were relaxing on the sofa, with the other members too, as they scrolled through their phones. Looking at her social media, Y/N tapped on her friend's story, only to see they were all hanging out without her, and seemed to be eating at a slightly more expensive fast food restaurant. But they didn't even have enough money for a snack earlier?!
It seemed Y/N had spoke this last thought out loud. Seungmin peered over her shoulder and frowned, recognising the people in the photos as his younger member's friends.
Stopping himself from telling her 'I told you so', Seungmin offered his comfort.
"You've got us, yeah? Don't worry about them anymore," Seungmin swiped off of the story and took her phone out of her hands.
"I don't know what i did wrong..." Y/N bit her lip, wondering how she always went wrong with her friends.
"You did nothing wrong, they took advantage of your kindness, Y/N, now let me order some fried chicken for us, yeah?"
âąâąâą
The final member Chan added to the lineup was a guy called Minho, who, very impressively, had completed the basic JYP dance moves in 2 weeks. Y/N was in awe of him.
"I can't believe you completed the moves already! I bet Chan will make you dance leader when we all get to debut together!" Y/N smiled at Lee Know, singing his praises.
"Aha, thank you," Lee Know awkwardly bowed at her, not really saying much after. Y/N just wanted to compliment him and show her appreciation, but seeing his short responses made her feel awkward too, and soon they'd be left in silence.
Y/N found herself sat there thinking, she spent so long trying to get everyone to like her, but maybe what she said, what she did, wasn't good enough?
"Is this too much for you?" Chan sat down next to Y/N, who had isolated herself to sit in the corner of the practice room.
"No it's fine," Y/N waved her hand away, running a hand through her hair.
"Tell me the truth," Chan insisted, shifting his body to look at her, feeling concerned.
"I am, I'm fine," Y/N bluntly said, not wanting to talk about how she truly was feeling, and the thoughts she was having.
"Don't lie to me, I need to know you can do this, I don't want you stressing out, we've got the showcase ahead of us, Y/N," Chan urged her to tell the truth, resting a hand on her knee, patting it gently.
"Look, ok, it is a lot to deal with but I can do it, I promise you. I just, I'm trying to figure everything in my head," Y/N leant her head back against the wall, closing her eyes.
"Thank you for telling me the truth, and, Y/N, that's why we're here, we don't want you feeling like you're on your own when you do so much for all of us, ok?" Chan side hugged her, warmth in his eyes, and some relief there when he finally broke through to her.
"I am? I mean, I do a lot for you guys?" Y/N's voice pleaded for the truth, looking at Chan with hope in her eyes.
"You always do," he smiled and ruffled her hair.
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Back to One Kids Room, Y/N smiled as she thought about how she had come as a person.
"As much as I still look up to my members, my self-esteem has grown so much and I've learnt to value myself. I love them so much, but I need to give myself energy and time too," Y/N smiled at the camera, hands squeezing the long arms of her sleeves and balling them up.
"She's so much more confident now, I remember she used to ask me if this was fine or that but now she's more confident," Changbin commented, the other guys nodding in agreement.
"She used to come to me being like, woahhhhh you're such a good dancer!" Lee Know chucked, thinking of the younger version of Y/N, who would always praise her members.
"Ah yes she'd speak exactly like that! Wow... And she'd look at me like, with these wide eyes being like, I wanna rap like you!" Han laughed as he perfectly imitated how Y/N spoke to him.
"She used to have this really sweet habit, when I didn't know Korean very well, umm, she'd leave these little notes for me, and write the Korean and English translation for me just so I knew what she was saying. There'd always be these words of encouragement, it just made my heart feel warm," Felix told the members, who all 'ooh'ed in response, shocked at this fact because they didn't know that Y/N used to do that.
"Ah, yes, I did used to leave notes for Felix... I wanted to be his friend so badly! He just seemed so cool but whenever I spoke to him he just sort of awkwardly smiled and nodded. I thought he didn't like me, turns out he had no idea what I was saying, so I left notes for him instead... yeah," Y/N felt shy when she admitted this, covering her face.
"I remember back in trainee days, I was late for practice because I overslept. And then when I arrived I thought Channie hyung is really going to scold me but Y/N suddenly appeared, I think she came back from the bathroom or something but she said it was her fault that we were both late, and I thought phew, hyung won't be angry at me now, haha," Jeongin told his own story, remembering Y/N covering for him, and that wasn't the only time she had done that.
"I remember that! I knew she was covering up for you!" Chan gasped, pointing an accusing finger at Jeongin who laughed in response.
"She's so sweet and kind, whenever any of us would argue she'd try and stop it from happening," Hyunjin shook his head in wonder at how selfless Y/N was.
"Oh yeah! She'd try and get us to see from each perspective, even though I felt like I was right I thought wow I can't argue because now Y/N would be sad too if we carried on," Han covered his mouth slightly as he laughed, patting Hyunjin on the shoulder knowing that the argument he was referring to was definitely between the two of them.
"Right! Right! She's really good at seeing other people's feelings, but she used to struggle when it came to herself... She'd look so confused if I said to her that she was acting sad, she looked like a lost puppy..." Changbin said in a more serious tone.
"Oh when she had those puppy eyes! Yeah!" Chan nodded along enthusiastically, knowing the look all too well.
"It made my heart ache, she didn't understand, she's much better now though, I'll get a knock at my door and we'll talk for hours," Changbin confessed, feeling happy he was needed in helping his member feel better.
"Ah yes I talk to Binnie a lot about my feelings these days... I still find it confusing to understand how I feel but it makes a bit more sense when I talk with him, yeah..." Y/N began, still a bit shy in admitting when she needed help but better than she would have been before, "I don't think I look like a puppy? Seungmin is more like a puppy, haha."
"Remember Y/N used to have that part time job?" Seungmin asked the rest of the guys.
"Really?" Felix was shocked, not realising everything Y/N had to balance.
"Yeah she used to work at a cafe whilst training and school, I really admired that," Hyunjin grinned, proud of the younger girl.
"But she'd still have to ask us for money," Chan laughed.
"She'd spend it on her old friends! She wanted to make sure they were ok and then suddenly she wouldn't have any money left!" Seungmin said in disbelief, his voice cutely rising up and down in pitch showing how he was feeling.
"Oh, that makes sense I remember one time we got some boba, and she asked me like oppa, can you get me that please? And I asked her where her money went and she said she spent it on a present for Innie... I think it was near his birthday at the time," Lee Know commented, leaning back against the sofa.
"Woahh, my heart," Hyunjin gasped, placing a hand over his chest, "that's so cute!"
"Ah I love giving gifts! I feel like if I can find someone the perfect gift and they are happy then I'm really happy too," Y/N explained after a staff member asked her the question.
"I think I'm definitely different from debut days... If I could say anything about myself now... It would be... You have grown. Y/N has changed, but in a good way!"
"One Kid's Room, Y/N, finished!"
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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kai-lee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari
#skz#stray kids#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#skz fluff#skz angst#straykids imagines#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#skz fic#straykids ninth member#skz ninth member#stray kids ninth#ninth member#stray kids ninth member#skz 9th member reader#skz 9th member#stray kids 9th member
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HER | part two.
â§â synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo canât see this going well. at all.
pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader word count: 22.7k genres/tropes:Â writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (iâm coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.
(!) warnings: drug use (weed, cocaine, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.
â§â a/n: just some quick things i want to make apparent!
the fic is told from wonwooâs pov, not the readerâs!Â
all major timeline events are organized through chronological dates
any smut or potentially triggering scenes are NOT MARKED bc the content is already quite mature, so just plz be aware of that!Â
bolded and italicized text implies the characters are conversing in korean, tho it doesnât happen often!
the fic in its entirety is 140k, so it has been split into 6 parts.
updates: in terms of a posting schedule, i'm pre sure i'm just gonna post every saturday night ~12am EST (so technically sunday lol). taglist is included in the comment section since tumblr now has limit as to how many peeps are mentioned per post :p
thanks againnnn! đ
âą part one | part three | part four | part five | part six âąÂ soundtrack for those curious! âąÂ read at ur own pace! :)
âMAY 12TH.
Wonwoo was sat on his couch with your laptop glowing in front of him, one hand holding up his chin while the other scrolled slowly through your writing. Finally, youâd let him actually glean your work, and he was quite impressed with your natural skill. He supposed the biggest issue was the choppinessâyour sentence structures were much like your racing tangents, and in some areas the writing lacked flow and a smooth continuality. But that sort of ability would just develop on its own as long as you were practicing.
For the most part, Wonwoo was leaving behind small notes and highlighting areas that you could revisit at a later time.
âOkay, Iâm going to do a handstand.â
However, as Wonwoo had been combing through your work for the past half-hour, that left you with an apparent boredness which somehow translated into an acrobatics session in his living room.
âIâd really prefer you didnât,â he answered through the fingers covering his mouth, his eyes trained with focus on the document.
âNo, no. I used to be so good at them. Watch.â
Wonwoo was in the midst of typing a note when a small, circular embroidered pillow had suddenly struck the laptop, nearly forcing it shut. It was then that Wonwoo looked up with a long sigh, acknowledging the devious, shining smile that sprung to your face.
âNow that I have your attentionââ
Wonwoo titled his head, folded his arms, and propped one foot onto the coffee table, somewhat like an exhausted parent who was being heckled by their child to watch the âspecial trickâ theyâd just learned. He was internally praying you actually were good at handstands, because that fragile pottery vase and the antique gold clock sitting on the fire mantel had never looked so breakable until now. A cool breeze slivered in through the open window as your arms began raising above your head, and he heard you inhale steadily.
âGo!â You then shouted, either in motivation or impatience aimed at yourself, loud enough to make Wonwoo flinch.
The next moment, you were basically flipped upside down, your socked feet sticking pointedly in the air while your hands stumbled about on the brown rug for a few seconds, attempting to find their place rooted in the fuzz. Wonwoo pursed his lip, impressed.
âSee! Told you!â
âI mean, I never said you couldnât.â
âAre you amazed?â
He watched with a slight bit of nervousness as you walked a few paces forward with your hands, though he kept his calm composure from the couch and dealt you about three dull claps.
âCirque de Soleil is asking for you, actually.â
To Wonwooâs utter relief, you collapsed back onto your feet, probably because the blood was gushing to your head and heâd rather not have you faint squarely on the face in his living room. You then sat on your knees for a moment, rubbing slowly at your scalp.
âIâm almost done,â Wonwoo reaffirmed, moving aside the stitched pillow youâd chucked at him earlier and reopening the laptop.
âDonât let me rush you.â
He chuckled instantly. âYou mean to tell me youâre not bored out of your mind? Why else would you be doing cartwheels.â
Finally, you got up from the rug.
âUm, it was a handstand,â you were hasty to correct him, now sinking into the seat beside Wonwoo on the couch with the circle pillow pulled onto your lap. âI could do a cartwheel, though.â
âYeah, not in this house youâre not.â
âNot in this house youâre not.â
He merely smirked at your attempt to mimic him by employing a cartoonishly deep tone that you found very amusing, made evident by your prideful giggles close to his ear. Just as Wonwoo scrolled to the end of the document to type his last note, you were piqued with curiosity and leaned over his lap, grabbing at the screen to examine how far heâd come during your hour together.
âSo, where are you at anyway?â
Wonwoo pressed himself back into the couch, immediately removing his hands from the keyboard. It felt like at the most random, unpredictable times you would swoop in so close to him, and he never quite knew how to react. Most times he would freeze, become stiff and hardly breathing, run his eyes in all different directions around the room because everything seemed easier when he pretended you didnât exist.
He adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat.
âIâm basically done.â
âYou are? Okay. Hm⊠it seems like you made a lotta notes.â
Wonwoo squirmed in his seat as though it were scratching him. You eventually pulled away, but your knee was now resting on the side of his thigh and you were sitting much closer than beforeâclose enough that your shoulder was digging into his and he could sense your full, bright eyes burning a stare at his pink cheek.
âTheyâre mostly easy fixesâŠâ he mumbled, refusing to look at you, instead scrolling impetuously through the document with jerks of his pointer and middle finger. Â
âWell, what do you think of it?â
He paused, still staring at the laptop.
âOf what?â
âWonwoo, my writing, obviously,â you said with a warm laugh and a soft breath that rushed over his neck in such a pleasurable, lightheaded way. âAnd look at me,â he heard you ask in a lower, more sincere voice, your fingers then ghosting along his tense jaw in a fleeting, sensitive touch as you guided his head gently in your direction, âI just want to know youâre telling the truth.â
He was accustomed to your eyes being filled with sparks and the readiness to pit the most sharp-tongued comment in history, and so Wonwoo was able to relax ever so slightly upon realizing how your gaze had become increasingly mellow, welcoming even.
âWell, youâre obviously good at it,â he managed to answer the question without his voice trembling, âjust some pacing issues, mostly. Youâve got a bit of an issue with run-on sentences and closing up a scene. But you plan a lot, which is nice. I mean, you can only get better.â
An earnest smile picked its way across your face, framing your polished teeth and pushing up the apples of your cheeks. Wonwoo had to look awayâsometimes it was too muchâyou were too much, and he refused to let himself drown beneath your intensity that he found purely terrifying. Your knee proceeded to pull from his thigh and you were now dragging your body off the couch, which meant that Wonwoo could safely exhale the breath he was holding. He wondered if you just wanted to hear the compliment, or if you were legitimately pleased with his praise.
You walked up to his fireplace mantel, examining the items left along the white, sparkling trim heâd spritzed clean of all dust.
âDid you make this?â Came your inquiry, a curious finger pointing toward the round-bottomed, thin-necked red vase.
Wonwoo shook his head.
âNo, it was a welcome gift from the landlord.â
âShe made it?â
âYeah,â he hummed. âDidnât I tell you? She owns the pottery business downstairs. Saskia. She immigrated here like, eighteen years ago, now. From Poland. I thought you mightâve run into her.â
Shaking your head, you turned back to the vase.
âI didnât see her at all.â
âShe was probably in her office.â
âHow did she make all these little emblem thingies? Around the base? Like, this oneâs got an elephant. This one is a fruit tree.â
Wonwoo squinted at the vase from his place on the couch. He hadnât really examined it much, apart from when his landlord had thrust it into his hands while she welcomed him to the building. It never held any flowers, eitherânot even the brilliant ruby coloured poinsettias his ex-girlfriend's mother was supposed to send.
The relationship has disintegrated before it could ever happen.
âFuck, donât know. She has a bunch of little tools down there for more detailed work. Maybe a stamp. Youâd have to ask her.â
âItâs really pretty.â
His brows furrowed. âYeah? You like ceramics or something?â
You turned back to him, shrugging.
âI donât know. I was just saying, itâs pretty.â
âIt is. Itâs very pretty.â
With a sigh, you climbed back onto the couch.
âDo you think youâre done editing?â
He picked up the laptop and set it down on the coffee table.
âI think so. For the day.â
âPerfect.â You smiled. âIâll make time to read your notes tomorrow morning, if I can. Seems like thereâs about eight-hundred.â
Wonwoo chuckled, ânot eight-hundred. Try twenty.â
âTwenty?!â Your eyes bulged in shock as you gripped onto the embroidered pillow hugged back into your lap. âThatâs so many!â
âWhatâtwenty is somehow more than eight-hundred? What fucking planet are you living on where numeracy works like that?â
âWonwoo, I have so much to do tomorrow!â You winced, tossing your head against the couch and slipping down the cushions.
âOkay, like what?â
â⊠Gosh⊠no, no. Fuck it. It doesnât matter.â
âNo, tell me. What have you got to do tomorrow?â
âI donât want to tell.â
âWhy not?â He murmured.
âIf I talk about, then Iâll want to do it even less.â There was an empty sigh he heard from your chest as your arms curled tight around the pillow. âBesides, itâs squished all into my colour-coded block on the schedule. The pink one. I justâI donât want to think about it.â
âFair. I get that.â
âItâs complicated family stuff.â
Wonwoo huffed sympathetically. âI get that even more.â
â⊠So, weâre still good for Spring Street on Sunday?â You asked, staring up at Wonwoo from your sunken, defeated slump.
He nodded.
âIâll be there if you are.â
âMAY 14TH.
The Spring Street Fair. It happened every single May, for three days straight, usually Friday to Sunday. In the daytime it was cheerier and more watered down for the children that came hand in hand with their parents, looking to feed the alpacas and ride those nauseating teacups and sob until exhaustion because they accidentally let go of their kitten-shaped balloon. However, at night, the fair had become a beacon for the older, rowdier university crowd.
Wonwoo never went despite all his recent years living in the city, but Vernon had, usually on accounts of âbusinessâ which really meant selling drugs for idiotic prices behind the Whirler or the Starship. You wanted to go, but hadnât told Wonwoo the reason. He opted to assume it was another part of your storyâmaybe you ran into Mingyu at a similar fair when you were younger, and it was therefore very integral you go Spring Street tonight. It was the exact opposite of what Wonwoo typically appreciated doing on Sundays, and he knew for a fact heâd loathe it, every single part.
âNo fuckinâ way!â Vernonâs voice exploded through the crackly static on Wonwooâs phone as he stood in line for the fair, gazing over top everyoneâs heads to gauge the ticket booth. âI canât believe your loser ass actually crawled outta bed for that.â
Wonwoo scoffed, âyeah, it wasnât my choice.â
âThen what for?â
âHer. She wanted to go. Itâs for the book.â
He was supposed to meet you inside the fair. It was almost ten oâclock at night. The sky was beautifully clear, illuminated with pinpricks of starlight, and the air had once been crisp. Now, Wonwoo was beginning to smell sparked cannabis, and he assumed a likewise scent would follow him all damn night. The horrid, anxious process of standing in the mile long line was made palatable through his conversation with Vernon, whoâshockinglyâwasnât even there.
âOhh, the book, the book. Waitâsheâs gonna write her book at the fuckinâ Spring Street Fair? How the fuck does that work?â
âNo, itâs not like that,â Wonwoo chuckled. âItâs stuff about the settings, the environment; she uses it to help with her writing.â
âHm, doesnât make much sense to me, probably âcause I donât like readin' or writin' or anything with books. But, damn, Iâm jealous of you, Glasses. Do yâknow how hard I tried to smooth talk my way into that girlâs pants? Nâsomehow, you can write goodââ
âWrite well, not good.â
âOh, fuck youâwrite wellâso she takes you everywhere like a little purse dog. When does that happen to me, yeah?â
The line started slowly pouring forward, and Wonwoo felt himself get dragged along. Probably another five minutes and he would be at the ticket booth, getting one of those neon bracelets circled around his wrist that were nearly impossible to rip off.
âWhy didnât you come?â Wonwoo asked.
Vernon groaned, âgot into some bullshit with this guy whoâs not payinâ up. Iâm handlinâ it, though. If I can manage to get it all sorted, Iâll come later. Itâs too fuckinâ easy selling those gummies to the first years, dude. Shit, it could be some Flintstone vitamins and theyâre actinâ like Chicken Little. Cracks me the fuck up.â
Wonwoo cleared his throat, smiling. âYouâre such a cunt.â
âHey, hey, you are what you eat, okay? And, when you get inside or whatever, text me where youâre hanginâ so if I do come, I can see you for a bit. Dunno if your girlfriend will approve.â
The air began mottling with a thin, chalky smoke that drifted from somewhere down the crowded string of university students. Again, the line shuffled, and the congestion gradually broke up as more people were allowed into the fair. Wonwoo switched the phone to his other ear, getting his wallet ready.
âDonât even start.â
âStart what? I said nothinâ.â Vernonâs laughter was raspy and obviously laced with a smirk that Wonwoo could hear.
âDonât be such a prick. Sheâs not myââ
Suddenly, Wonwooâs phone began vibrating against his palm, and when he pulled it down an immediate lump conjured in his throat upon reading your name. His heart jolted, and it wasnât until someone pushed hard on his back to urge him forward that he realized the line was once again ambling closer to the ticket booth.
Vernon sighed, âso, again, tell me where youâllââ
âShitâuh, gotta go. Talk to you later.â
A few remnants of Vernonâs miffed, guttural cursing managed to leak through the phone before Wonwoo could press to accept your call. In an instant, his friend was blipped away, and he heard your voice instead. He held back a cough from the astringent, cottonish air.
âWonwoo, hello. Iâm glad you picked up. So, where the hell are you? Itâs nearly ten! Did you not get in line early?â
Wonwoo kept the phone secured between his shoulder and ear while he shimmied the coins out from his wallet.
âNo, I did, promise. Just about to pay. Where are you?â
âWhen you get in, just follow the arrows. They're lit up with those blue lightbulbs. They go to the tavern. Iâm having some drinks with my friends. Donât worry. You wonât have to do much socializing.â
âUh, okay,â Wonwoo answered, internally counting up the money in his hand until he was certain of the amount. âMingyuâs there?â
âNo. He always plays poker with his friends on Sunday.â
An unbeknownst pressure escaped his chest.
âOkay. Iâm close to the front. Iâll see you in a bit.â
âSure. Donât be late!â
âI know. Bye.â
Hanging up the phone, Wonwoo had just enough time to wriggle the device into his back pocket before handing the ticket booth clerk his coins. She dropped the cold change into his hand, then asked to see his wrist, where she proceeded to attach the bracelet with the words Spring Street Fair etched into the orange, plasticky-feeling paper.
Finally, he was let inside.
Blue arrows, blue arrowsâthat was all Wonwoo kept reiterating in his head like some religious hymn as he followed the glow throughout the fairgrounds, weaving his way between large groups of people that he gleefully didnât recognize. Eventually, he saw the tavern you were referring toâan outdoor bar with picnic tables set up everywhere, beneath cheap little strings of warm, lambent lights.
Even with his glasses on, Wonwoo was still squinting as he walked between each table, attempting to discern your dolled-up face somewhere amongst the strangers sipping on their large mugs of alcohol, that was until he heard his name being called over the music rumbling from the barâs horrible speakers. When he looked straight ahead, he saw you cutely waving him over. With each step he took, Wonwoo reminded himself to breathe, to loosen up, to stop clenching his fists so painfully tight as though he were going to split someoneâs eyebrow. Breathe, breathe, breathe. Just breathe.
You stood up from the table to welcome him, and he felt your hand settle softly on his lower back. The touch was grounding.
âSo, everyone, girls, if I could get your attention for just a moment despite the general impairment going on hereâthis is the mystery guy whose been helping me write. Wonwoo.â
Godâhe wanted to puke, all those big, curious, unabashed eyes soaking him in like freshly dipped watercolour to a cloth canvas. There was a cluster of high-pitched voices that repeated his name in a shrill, unison greeting. However, Wonwoo was unable to meet a single girlâs gaze, and so he opted to stare down at a paper plate on the table aligned with cinnamon-sprinkled churros.
Again, he wanted to throw up.
âSo, of course, Wonwooâs been the biggest help with everything,â you said, to which he could sense your nails subtly digging at him through his clothes, most likely a silent urge to say something so he didnât seem so unprecedentedly stiff and metallic.
He cleared his throat.
âUh, yeah. Iâm just proofreading, really.â Wonwoo had to swallow. âSome tips here and there. But, sheâs pretty good as is.â
âIs that your actual voice?â
His eyes darted to find who asked the question. She was toward the end of the picnic table, tucking a lock of short, coffee brown hair behind her ear. Before the girl was a gigantic and fluorescent pink drink, the glass resembling the shape of a fish bowl.
â⊠What do you mean?â Wonwoo replied.
She sat up on her knee, continuing to ogle him with those fixated but glazed chestnut eyes. Her mouth seemed to drag as though it was thawing when she spoke. Wonwoo could tell she was already well inebriated. There was no way that was her first drink.
âYour voice,â she repeated, âitâs so⊠deep.â
âWell⊠I donât know. Puberty.â
His comment elicited some giggles from around the table, to which he could feel the cartilage in his ears burning.
âWonwooââ another girl then leaned forward with her head tilted up and a coy, drunk smile flittering on her mouth, ââI think itâs so, so great youâre helping Her write. I actually think itâs the sweetest, ever.â Her lashes were coated in smooth mascara and her eyelids were remarkably glimmery, drenched in an electric shade of blue that he couldnât stop staring at. âAlso, sorry, but youâre like, super gorge.â
âSuper what?â He repeated, confused at her wording.
But she didn't seem interested in repeating herself, instead scooping the long and impressively silky black hair off her shoulder to spill down her pale back.
âOkay, okay, okay. Weâve all shared some impetuous conversation and weâve all swooned over him now. Yippee. Unfortunately, weâve gotta get going, friends.â
Wonwoo felt your hand land on his shoulder and gently tug him backward, away from the table. You then proceeded to grab the glass left at your seat, chugging the remaining alcohol until there was nothing but a melting block of ice cubes clicking at the bottom. While you wiped your mouth, you began aiming a finger at each girl.
âTo make a long story short, thatâs Princess, Clara, and Bells. Do you have any comments for them before we go?â The impatience in your tone was bleeding through with sheer apathy.
Wonwoo shrugged. âUh, nice to meet everyone? I guess.â
âShort and efficient. How perfect. Okay, Iâll see you guys later, I think. Actuallyâprobably not. So can someone eat my churros?â
Your arm curled around Wonwooâs bicep as though to whisk him away as hurriedly as possible. Everyone left at the table began waving, and Wonwoo couldnât even bring himself to force a fake, pleasant smile because he was still attempting to understand what all those comments even meant. You walked briskly until the poetic, firefly lights of the tavern were lost long behind in the distance, and when you finally paused, he had not a clue where he was standingâa busy centre with people mingling all around him, the wild whirring of carnival rides and chaotic, blinking hues strobing above his head.
When he looked down at you, he was surprised to see you were already staring back, and he could only hold the eye contact for no more than a few seconds or else his heart would skip a beat.
âSorry about all that,â you said, rolling your shoulders, âI tried to be somewhat reasonable with my drinking for once. I canât say the same for Clara and Bells. They guzzle cocktails like apple juice.â
âBells is⊠the one with all that sparkly blue eyeshadow?â
âOhâyeah. She loves sparkles. Glitter. Anything glimmery. Sheâs been like that ever since Iâve known her. Clara was the one who asked about your voice. She has a thing for guys with deep voices and you unfortunately fit the bill. And Iâm sorry that Princess didnât say anything. She kind of just looks and observes. Also Iâm like ninety-eight percent sure she popped something in a porta-potty before we met up so sheâs probably in a mental state of star-surfing. Anyway. You donât have to worry about them, alright? Itâs just us for tonight.â
 âWell, thatâs⊠easy enough.â
âIâm not sure if we should stand here.â
âHm?â
You then pointed to something behind Wonwoo, and when he turned his head, he felt a gust of wind from the gigantic, spinning ride that resembled a flying saucer in the nighttime sky. It was always beyond him why anyone would choose to strap themselves into a machine that terrifying. It made him sick just watching.
âIf I get throw up on my head, Iâm killing myself.â
âOkay, so letâs find somewhere else.â
As he began walking away in search of a quieter area, you grabbed onto the back of his clothes. Wonwoo raised his eyebrow.
âWe have to hold hands, or have arms linked,â you said.
For some reason, Wonwoo presumed you were joking, and so he tilted his head at you with a questioning smile. But when your serious expression didnât crack, he realized it wasnât a joke at all.
âOh⊠why?â
âBecauseââ you then took a step toward him and spoke matter-of-factly, like you were reading a rule book, ââitâs the buddy system. Always have someone at your side, and make sure youâre linked in some way. Itâs too easy to get separated in places like this, otherwise. Have you never heard of that before?â
âI have,â Wonwoo answered, adjusting his glasses. âMyâum, my hands are a little cold. I donât have the best circulation.â
The truth was, Wonwoo didnât want to hold your hand. He didnât want to link arms with you. He didnât want you pressed into his side all night. He didnât want to have the scent of your hair under his nose or feel your ticklish breath against his neck each time you spoke.
But he didnât have a good enough excuse to fight it.
âOh my god, who cares,â you retorted. âAnd I have super sweaty hands. Like, uncomfortably warm. We'll balance out.â
 âActually?â
âYes! Is that a problem for you, sweetheart?â
Wonwoo quickly shook his head in response to your condescending tone. You then reached for his hand, which he offered up for your required holding, and chose to ignore the butterflies in the deep pit of his stomach when he realized how perfectly your fingers slotted with his. He followed your lead through the fair until you came outside a small lemonade booth. Wonwoo thought you would drop his hand, but you didnât, and his knees felt like gelatine.
âI want another drink,â you told him.
He squinted at their options, which didnât really consist of much. The prices were obviously insaneâit was another reason he hated going to fairs. His wallet always got cleaned out.
âYouâre going to have to use the washroom a lot.â
âUgh,â you gritted in response, brushing some hair from your face, âI hate public washrooms. Theyâre so gross. Completely unsanitary. Awful maintenance. One time I was here and I walked into the washroom by the Mirror Hall and I swear, a freaking rat ran across the floor! I screamed bloody murder. Iâd rather squat in the bush and risk getting, like, poison ivy. But the washrooms have mirrors obviously, and I like checking my makeup and stuff. I wish I could check now.â
âRight now? I mean, your makeup looks fine.â
Wonwoo saw your entire face freeze, and then begin to warp, as though heâd just said the most dreadful thing he could think of.
âFine?â You glared at him. âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
He started stumbling over his words, feeling his chest tighten.
âSo, what youâre saying is that I look ugly? That my makeup looks bad? Because if you really thought it was âfineâ then you wouldnât have said it looks âfineâ because everyone knows that word is a substitute for passable and passable is just a substitute for ugly!â
He opened his mouth, then instantly closed it.
âSo whatâs wrong with it? Are my under eyes creasing? Is my contour too dark? Is my lipstick smudged? Did it get on my teeth? Ugh, I knew I should have brought my compact!â
âNo, no, no.â Wonwoo squeezed your hand, hoping that he could somehow undo the damage he had no intention of even inflicting in the first place. âUhâIâm sorry, I didnât mean it that way. You lookââ he wasnât sure he could say the compliment without shivering, but Wonwoo didnât care in the moment, ââyour makeup is beautifully done. Thereâs no creasing or smudging, thereâs none of that."
You kept touching worrisomely at your face. âAre you sure?â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â
âI promise.â Wonwoo confirmed, giving your hand another tight, reassuring squeeze that seemed to calm you down.
He had never seen someone switch gears that quickly. You could be perfectly amicable one second, and then break down into near hysteria the next, a slew of anxious thoughts running straight from your brain to your mouth like clockwork.
Wonwoo wondered how Mingyu dealt with such tangents all the time. The trait almost didnât seem to fit your image.
The line moved forward another step.
âAre you going to drink anything?â You asked after a moment of silence, in a quieter voice. âI want to get the strawberry refresher.â
âMaybe.â
âWhat will you get?â
âI⊠donât know. A regular lemonade?â
âNo,â you shook your head, pointing toward the corner of the boothâs menu, âget the pina colada thing. I want to try it, too.â
âOkay,â Wonwoo agreed with a shrug as he retrieved his wallet, not really caring about what he drank. âIâll pay for it. No worries.â
The longer Wonwoo was at the fair, the less he actually thought about why he was there, until the question leapt into his mind at random while he stood beside you, waiting for a seat on the dauntingly large Farris wheel. He removed the straw from his mouth, swallowing a gulp of his pina colada flavoured drink, and peered down at you. His hand was still interlinked with yours. You had finished the strawberry refresher in about five minutes.
Now, you were texting someone. He didnât know if it was a friend from earlier or perhaps your boyfriend, but Wonwoo wasnât a serious sleuth, so he opted to look away despite the natural urge that was pricking him. When you finally tucked the phone back into the small bag slung around your shoulder, Wonwoo lowered the plastic cup from his mouth, making sure to clear his throat.
âSo, uh, why are we here, exactly?â
You sniffled. âWhat do yâmean?â
âDoes the fair have anything to do with your writing? Is that why weâre riding the Farris wheel? Ohâspeaking of which, I didnât think to bring the camcorder, in case you wanted any footage.â
âOh, no,â you said, waving a dismissive hand, âthis has nothing to do with my book. Weâre palate cleansing.â
âPalate cleansing?â He echoed.
âYeah. Itâs like, doing something different in between a routine, to keep yourself fresh. You always eat breakfast at home but today you skip it and go out for brunch. Yâknow, shit like that.â
Wonwoo huffed in amusement. âYou could have told me beforehand.â
âUh, noââ your face scrunched up in clear disagreement, ââI couldnât, because then you wouldnât have gone. No offence, but youâre a hermit, Wonwoo. You donât really like going anywhere or doing anything and youâre definitely one of those people who bores themselves into hating their own life because your stimuli is so limited. Thatâs why I didnât tell. Again, no offence.â
âOh.â
That was all he could string together in responseânot even string together, because it was just one boring, monotone sound that basically got carried away in the chilly wind, tinted with the smell of buttery popcorn and weed. It sounded like something that was supposed to sting, but it didnât really. Maybe he was growing more accustomed to your unprompted judgements on his personal life.
Suddenly Wonwoo had blinked and you two were next in line for the empty cart. The clerk pointed at Wonwooâs drink.
âYou canât bring that with you,â he said.
Before Wonwoo could think to respond, you had already grabbed the cup from his hand, chucking it straight into the garbage.
âWeâre not.â
Pulling on his hand, you guided him into the shaky cart, both of you squishing onto the cold, metal bench. It was quite literally the tamest ride in the entire fair, and yet Wonwoo was still feeling nervous about itâthough, that was possibly the fact he was going to be sailed one-hundred feet into the satin black sky, left amongst the stars and the bright, shimmering halo of the moon with you and you alone. He was actually relieved you had tossed his drink, otherwise he might have dropped it due to the trembling in his fingers. It was easier to fiddle with them in order to disguise their shakiness.
âI guess I should have asked if youâre afraid of heights,â you said.
The cart jerked abruptly as the ride began to move and lift you two ever so gradually from the ground. Wonwoo peered over the edge for a brief moment to watch his distance grow from the people below, their jumbled mess of conversations fading in place of quiet.
âUh, no. Iâm okay with heights,â he finally answered.
He saw you glancing down as well, smiling to yourself.
Wonwoo wasnât sure if he should attempt at conversation or just maintain the stillness between you. Usually, he couldnât stand it, and the pressure to talk and fill the silence always tended to fail or squander something potentially enjoyable. But he supposed it was typically like that in a situation where two people werenât the best acquaintedâthatâs why Wonwoo always quite liked Vernon, despite his rough, nonconformed edges and often vulgar way of speaking.
He was able to carry a conversation so naturally that the quieter moments never felt suffocating, instead falling exactly where they should, like puzzle pieces. But that was harder with you.
Maybe it was because you could be intimidating, unpredictableâWonwoo was never truly relaxed around you because there was this intangible, looming worry that he needed to have the perfect responses and be the most perfect person. He found that perfect people only hung out with other perfect people and Wonwoo was certainly not thatâperfect. You must have seen it by now. He was just as rough as Vernon no doubt, but in a different, hidden way that had to be dug into like an archeologist looking for broken bones.
The Ferris wheel slowed down, coming to a stop. You werenât at the very top, though the air was notably cooler and much fresher. When he inhaled a long breath, it smelled purely of night and not overpriced, buttery fair food and burning weed. He noted that you stared straight ahead, at the crescent-shaped moon, which mirrored a backward stare with how squarely it sat in front of the ride. For once, Wonwoo wasnât squirming, wriggling, stressing at the silence. When he spoke, he did it because he genuinely wanted to.
âHow was your Saturday?â
âMy Saturday?â
âYeah. I saw the schedule. You had to run a bunch of errands with your mom. Looked like you were pretty keyed up.â
âOh, yeah. I mean, I want to say I was overreacting the day before about how much I was dreading it. But then it fucking happened. And⊠I, uh⊠I realized I was exactly right. It was awful. I did get to your notes, though⊠yeahâI justâI squeezed them in between brunch with my momâs friend who could talk herself to death and the excruciating car ride to the publisherâs office.â
âMmhm.â Wonwoo smiled tenderly. âDid they help at all?â
âYeah,â you breathed out, âa lot, actually⊠thank you.â
âIâm sorry your Saturday went so terribly.â
Huffing in response, you nibbled on your inner check.
âYeah, well, it is what it is⊠I already knew it was gonna be a shit show. So, what is it that you write about, anyway? Because you seem like you know a whole lot. Seokmin says you let him read some of your poetry, but it was only like, two excerpts.â
âOh, yeah.â
Wonwoo recalled the memory of Seokmin picking up his leather notebook when it fell out from his bag one day. Heâd pestered him about the contents until Wonwoo succumbed and presented him with some lifeless, impatiently scribbled prose that heâd most likely jerked out on the bus or in between his lectures. Seokmin seemed to treat it like fine, prestigious gold, though Wonwoo knew it was the least personal of his work that he would never let another living soul on the planet breatheânot one scent of the ink or even the paper.
âSo, you write poetry?â
âI started writing poetry, haikus and all that easy stuff. I developed the interest a lot more through high school. But I never sat down and tried writing anything like a novel until I... I started uni.â
âYeah. Deciding to be a math major. I still donât get it,â you sighed, fidgeting with some rings on your fingers. âBut what do you even write about? Like, whatâs your inspiration?â
Wonwoo paused, looking down at his knees.
â⊠Life.â
âLife?â You defeatedly slumped into the seat. âThatâs the million dollar answer your intelligent brain chose to erect? Itâs just that when I think about it, Iâm letting you help me with my writing, but Iâve never even read a little smidgen of yours. Howâs that fair?â
The higher the Farris Wheel climbed, the stronger the breeze blew, and Wonwoo could feel its tendrils lashing across his cheeks and parting through his hair. You huddled further into your jacket.
âWell, you took Seokminâs word for it,â Wonwoo laughed.
Your eyes rolled, but you smiled gently. âI know.â
Suddenly, your hand had reached out, and you were pushing the floppy, black tresses off his forehead. Wonwooâs fingers dug bluntly into his arms. You then angled yourself in the small cart, looking back at him, sculpting your gaze to each crest in his face.
âWhy donât you ever push your hair back?â
The question hit the dark, cold atmosphere like a sizzling ember and Wonwoo was afraid to even open his mouth because he was certain a dying squeak would come out. You continued to play around with the locks, earthing your fingers deep into its texture and attempting to style it despite the persistent, fluttering breeze.
âUmâŠâ
âIf you styled it like thisââ you moved in closer, staring with so much focus at your nimble movements, ââyeah, like that. It shows off your forehead, gives you a bit of class. I mean, the windâs messing it up. You donât tend to do anything with your hair.â
âNo.â Wonwoo swallowed, hard.
âWell, you should. Not all the time, obviously. And Iâm not saying you look bad with it downânot at all. But youâve got nice, smouldering features and theyâre so much more⊠framed⊠when you show your forehead.â You collapsed back into the seat, and that tingly feeling he experienced when your fingers had been tugging and pulling was disseminating throughout his entire body. âI mean, look at how my friends reacted to you. I should apologize for that again, by the way. O-M-F-G, they see one hot guy, and they lose their grip.â
He nearly choked. âHot?â
It didnât sound right. Not at all.
âWell, what the fuck, Wonwoo? Youâre not ugly.â
âDid you think that when you first saw me?â
You had folded your leg again as the Farris wheel came to another stop. This time, at the very top, at the centre of the night.
âDid I think what? That youâre not ugly?â
âNever mind,â Wonwoo grimaced, hearing the cart creek as you better positioned yourself to face him. âItâs pathetic like that.â
âNo. I didnât think you were ugly. Did you think I was ugly?â
Wonwoo wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of the question, but he smothered it down because he knew one little laugh might hit your ear the wrong way, and it would be flames, sputtering and spewing. Obviously, he didnât think you were uglyâhe never had, even before he ever spoke to you. But he wasnât so shallow as to only regard someoneâs physical appearance. You were still terrifying.
âI wouldnât consider anyone ugly... and I wouldnât ever use it to describe some aesthetically. ButâI mean, I think people can become ugly through their personality, if that makes sense.â
âYeah, like, if theyâre rotten inside.â
âMmhm.â
âI agree.â
âWhat was that word your friend Bells said?â
You shrugged, âwhich word?â
âShe said something like, youâre super⊠I donât know⊠super something.â
âOhââ you sat up more in the cart, your back pressed against the uncomfortable corner, ââBells said you were super gorge.â
âMeaningâŠâ
âMeaning super gorgeous.â You made a big show of the rehashed compliment, parroting your friend's tone and swaying your shoulders.
âOh⊠really?â Wonwoo shook his head. âI thought she was referring to gorge as in when you gorge yourself, from eating.â
âNo,â you giggled at him, âitâs a short form, dumb-dumb.â
âWhy make a short form out of that? Is it really that strenuous to say the word gorgeous? Itâs only an extra syllable.â
âOkay, well, this isnât the nineteen-twenties. We donât all cross our Tâs and dot our Iâs. It reminds me of how you text.â
He furrowed his brow. âHow do I text?â
Your eyes rolled frivolously. âI dunno. Like youâre typing to a business colleague or something. Youâre so formal. When I think of you texting, I imagine itâs like someone using a typewriter. And that funny little ding sound it makes whenever you start a new line.â
âOh.â
âWhatâno oneâs ever told you that before? No way.â
âThat I text like Iâm using a fucking typewriter? No, actually. I canât say Iâve heard that.â
âWell, itâs not a big deal. Youâre just not very plugged into the internet, I suppose. Which is a good thing. It gives you prestige.â
At that, Wonwoo chuckled. âDoes it?â
âYes,â you smiled, eyes full of starlight, âandâjust ignore Bells, okay? She was being kind of weird but that can be fully attributed to those three shots I told her not to take.â
âHm.â
You continued to stare at him with a plotting smile.
âHm what? Whatâs the matter?â The metal of the cart squeaked as you leaned forward, your voice suddenly lathered in mischief. âDid you think she was cute?â He heard your tone drop, and your low, smooth voice breathing hot against his ear. âDid you think about fucking her, Wonwoo?â
âNoâwhat the fuckânot at all.â Quickly, heâd pushed you away and off his shoulder, to which you retreated into the corner with a giggle that should have made his skin crawl, but didnât.
âWell, how would I know?â You answered, tilting your head and stretching out your arms high into the blackness, as though you were trying to reach for a star. âI never know, because you never look at me. It makes me think you just lied and you do think Iâm ugly.â
Wonwoo glanced over the edge of the cart, at the almost nauseating distance between himself and the fairgrounds, covered with miniature, bustling people that seemed like breadcrumbs by comparison to their place in the sky. He didnât want to sink into this conversation. Besides, how was he supposed to look at you when your fingers were just gliding through his hair and your lips were whispering close enough to brush up against his ear? How was he supposed to act composed? Normal?
âHey, Wonwoo?â Your fingers snapped.
But he just kept thinking. Like he was cut from a separate cloth than youâthe fabric of his universe wasnât woven with yours and he could ruminate as much as he wanted to and it was impossible to hear your intrusions. Why couldnât he look at you?
You intimidated him, yes. You scared him, double yes.
He already knew that. It couldnât just be that.
âWonwoo? God⊠you shut down over the simplest things.â
âI donât know.â
You paused, staring him up and down, perplexed.
âWhat? What do you mean?â
âI donât know why I canât look at you.â
There was a lasting silence between you. Wonwoo felt like he might throw up for acknowledging the fact out loud, and his fist tightened in his lap as though to ground himselfâto remember where he was and to breathe slowly, because having a panic attack on top of a stupid Ferris Wheel was the last place it should happen. He hadnât even realized that youâd shifted closer, one leg curled beneath you while you spoke at the side of his head. But he didnât hear you, couldnât see youâthere was a harsh void inside him that sounded like suctioning air and static. His fingernail was pressing so deeply into the flesh of his pale skin that it was beginning to faintly bleed.
Andâall of a suddenâthere were these hands cautiously gripping onto his face, pulling him toward you. He kept staring at the movement of your soft lips, focusing on their pronunciation until everything flooded back in one overwhelming whirl and it felt like being slammed by a freight train.
Wonwoo then grabbed onto your bare knee as a crutch. He didnât mean to. But you didnât seem to care.
ââeverything okay? Wonwoo? Do I need to like, call someone? Because you look like youâre going to be sick.â
He heaved in a gaping breath, feeling how cold the midnight air was in the thinning atmosphere that encompassed him. It was soothing, akin to a hand massaging along his back.
âWonwoo?â You repeated his name, sounding awfully scared.
Pulling off his glasses, he rubbed at his eyes. He blurrily saw you touch the spot on your knee where his hand had buried into.
âSorry,â he then coughed through the heartbeat raspy in his throat, bringing the glasses back to his face, âI spaced out.â
âSpaced out?â You echoed. âThat wasnât spacing out.â
âIt doesnât matter.â
He thought you fight might it.
âWellâŠâ you sighed, glancing around uncertainly, âare you okay? Is there someone you want to call? I donât know.â
But you didnât. Thank God.
âNo, Iâmââ he stopped, gulping back the words.
â⊠Yeah?â There was a softer intrigue in your cadence.
Wonwoo looked at you. Fully this time. He looked straight into your eyes that were like a glossy, moonlit ocean, detailed with swirling riptides of surprise and apprehensiveness, but also immense depth that seemed genuinely appreciative of his gesture.
âIâm fine.â
And then he watched you nod, smile, and in return study his cavern eyes with the same intensity and wonder. It was such a peculiar experience, staring at you, understanding a little more of your truth, your gentleness.
He didnât feel as scared.
âMAY 16TH.
Wonwoo had been standing before the mirror in his washroom for the past half-hour or so, primarily just staring, examining, and pulling at the long, limp fronds of his hair. There was a point in his life when he legitimately put effort into styling it, and all his old hair products were still sitting in the cabinet. Though, his ex-girlfriend had tended to help him with it most days, because he found the strands were just too thick and stubborn to work with.
However, since the Spring Street Fair, Wonwoo hadnât been able to shake those comments you madeâabout how nicely his face could be framed and the smouldering nature of his features. He would never think to describe himself that way as it seemed particularly pompous and kind of foolish, but hearing you say it was different. The thing was, Wonwoo had no idea where to start, and attempting to rummage his fingers through his hair just didnât feel as stimulating or electric compared to your meticulous, sweet touch.
In the midst of opening his cabinet for a comb, Wonwoo heard his phone vibrate. He looked down at the sink, seeing the screen brighten with a text notification from Vernon.
[ Vernon | 12:54 pm ]: hey Glasses
[ Vernon | 12:54 pm ]: Solar Pop at 2?
Wonwoo thought about it for a moment, running his thumb down the spine of the comb to hear the little thwip. And then he sighed in decision, texting back a thumbs up. Itâs not like he was working later, and as much as Wonwoo would love to believe that today might be the day he made actual progress on his own story, he knew it was just wishful thinking. In reality heâd waste ample time staring into the document, pondering all the scenes and emotions and nuances he could write rather than moving to write anything at all.
Besides, he hadnât eaten yet today. The thought of a juicy, sauce-slathered, bun-toasted burger being his first meal prompted the boyâs face to sallow greenly with sickness, but the longer he stood in the washroom, combing and slicking and running styling balm through the black birdâs nest on his head, Wonwoo felt the hunger start to bite like an emaciated, starved dog. He left his apartment knowing he would be somewhat late, but Vernon was always later.
And while Wonwoo sat in one of the booths at Solar Pop, flicking the laminated menu back and forth despite knowing the exact order he was going to place, he thought about sending Vernon another text to ask where the hell he even was. Wonwoo could only sip his slippery glass of coke for so long until the waitress decided he was crazy and had been one-hundred percent stood up.
âHey, fuck, Iâm here.â
2:24 pmâthatâs when Vernon finally arrived, sliding himself into the leather bench opposite to Wonwoo while tossing his big, metallic clump of keys onto the table. The boy then proceeded to shimmy off his black jacket, propping his elbows onto the table.
If Vernon ever pulled a tardy stunt like that with you, Wonwoo imagined his friend would probably get stuffed into one of those boxes for sawing people in half. Except it wouldnât be magic.
âDid you get pulled over or something? Police raid? Traffic stop?â Wonwoo asked, now resting his menu down flat.
Vernon laughed, shaking his head. âUh, no. Couldnât find my fuckinâ car keys,â he spoke in a breathless voice. âSorry âbout it.â
âCouldnât find them?â Wonwoo almost scoffed at the excuse while his friend began scouring his way through the menu. âDude, theyâre the fucking size of a bowling ball. How could you lose them?â
âOkay, okay. Fuckinâ skin me alive, why donât you?â
âYou didnât come from your place, Iâm guessing.â
At that, Vernon began to grin, the metal on his pierced lip glinting underneath a ray of sunlight through the blinds. He was still occupied with choosing which burger he wanted. Wonwoo picked the same choice every time. Vernon always tried something different.
âNo, I didnât,â he rasped, flashing his sharp teeth and flipping the menu over, âbut when Maleeha Rabia sends you a text at goddamn one in the morning of her tits, you donât roll over nâ go to bed like some loser. Besides, my ecstasy was just sittinâ around and I had to use it one way or another. Anyway, doesnât fuckinâ matter. I think Iâll get the Double Bacon Crunch Burger. Sounds good as hell.â
Finally, Vernon threw the menu down with conviction.
âJesus Christââ his copper-burnt eyes then flared open as he looked across the table at his friend, ââwho the fuck are you?â
Wonwoo itched his nose. âUm, what?â
Vernon leaned forward, seeming captivated. âUh, your fuckinâ hair? Howâd you get it like that? Itâs all brushed over and soft lookinâ and shit. I feel like I shouldnât be sittinâ with you, Prince Charminâ.â
âI just put some balm in it, combed it around,â he answered, reaching for his drink. âTook me a humiliating amount of time.â
âWell, consider me starstruck. Whatâs made you do all that?â
Before Wonwoo could answer, the waitress returned to the table with her small notepad and shiny pen. Vernon pitched his order first, and Wonwoo followed, asking for the regular quarter-pounder with a side of hot crinkle-cut fries. Once she whisked the menus away and promised to grab Vernonâs root beer float, Wonwoo realized he still had to answer his friendâs question. He didnât exactly want to tell the truth, because he knew Vernon would never let him hear the end of it, but Wonwoo also didnât want to be too dishonest.
âYour face is doinâ that thing.â
âWhat thing?â Wonwoo answered, swallowing his sip of soda.
Vernon crossed his arms on the table, accenting the canvas of darkly-inked tattoos needled into his skin. He shook his head.
âItâs âcause of your little girlyfriend, isnât it?â
Fuck. Wonwoo should have just opened his mouth straight away and spieled out some quick-witted lie. Now he would be painfully subject to Vernonâs unfiltered teasing. Leaning back in his seat, Wonwoo unearthed a miserable sigh at Vernonâs smirk.
âYouâve gotta drop that bullshit.â
âItâs true,â Vernon pressured.
âNo, itâs not.â
As though to interpret Wonwooâs steadfastness as a challenge, Vernon leaned further over the table, dropping his voice but still smiling devilishly through every word he mimicked between his teeth.
âOh, Wonwoo, your hair looks so fucking sexy like that. It makes you look so perfect. Youâre from my dreams. Please, just fuck me right here, right now so I can push my fingers through it âcause itâs so soft and silky and Iâm basically in love with you.â
âShut the fuck up. Please.â
âThat was a good impression, though, wasnât it?â
In the loud space of Wonwooâs disgusted silence, the waitress placed Vernonâs drink onto the table and ensured the food would be coming soon. Vernon watched her walk away, back into the kitchen.
âHey,â he then grinned in capitulating fashion, âtake a stupid joke, alright? I know sheâs not in love with you and she doesnât wanna suck your dickâsheâs got a fuckinâ boyfriend. If it makes you feel any better, Iâm just projectinâ âcause you know Iâm jealous.â
Wonwoo sucked in a sip from his coke, shaking his head.
âThereâs nothing to be jealous of.â
âYeah, yeah,â Vernon dismissed, poking his spoon at the near perfect scoop of vanilla ice cream afloat in the frosty mug, âbut just so yâknow, your mopey ass left me out to dry on Sunday night. Shoved me off the phone, didnât respond to one of my texts. Youâre lucky I even asked you tâhang today. Did she take your phone or somethingâ?â
Shit. When Vernon said it like that, Wonwoo seemed like a terrible friend. Maybe he did deserve a deal of teasing. But at the same time, Wonwoo knew how easy it was for your attitude to flip and he hadnât been at all interested in starting the night with hostility.
âOkay, fair.â He admitted, rolling up his sleeves.
âAnd?â Vernon raised his eyebrows expectantly.
âIâm sorry.â
âThere you fuckinâ go. Thatâs all I wanted tâhear, Glasses.â
The truth was, Wonwoo actually quite enjoyed his time with you that nightâdespite the transient, bickering hiccups and his nearly faltering panic attack, he had fun. Actual fun. Of course, as soon as your ride ended on the Ferris wheel, youâd clutched onto his hand like a snake sinking in its fangs and dragged him throughout the entirety of the fair to find a washroom. Nonetheless, he really loved playing some carnival games with you, like skee ball and the water pistol. He was even able to win you a pink stuffed bear that you had carried close to the chest for the remainder of your time at the fair.
Wonwoo thought he could spend another night like that with you again. Just to get out of his apartment, to feel exhilaration in the pit of his stomach, to laugh until his lungs dried out, to hold your warm, comforting hand in his even when it became too clammy or inconvenient because otherwise you would scold him for letting go.
âFoodâs on the way,â Vernon perked up like a child about to be served a slice of birthday cake as the waitress walked over with two full plates, âif you canât finish yours, Iâll take it.â
âYeahâhow about you focus on chewing and not choking to death first,â Wonwoo sighed, watching his friendâs metaphorical tail wag.
Once she set the food down, inquiring about any refills, and left while flashing her perfected customer service smile, Vernon grabbed the burger with both his hands, taking a gigantic, succulent bite that somehow didnât singe the roof of his mouth. Wonwoo winced, instead going for his crisped, golden fries. Â
âDamn. Youâre really that hungry?â
âIâm ravenous,â Vernon mumbled, picking up a few caramelized onions that fell onto his plate. âDude, I woke up at noon in Maleehaâs bed. She was out cold. Nothinâ in her pantry but some stale fuckinâ Fruit Loops that I may have tried. Iâm a grown ass man. I need a meal.â
âIâm glad youâre so proactive," Wonwoo answered, sinking his burning hot fry into the small side-bowl of ketchup.
It took them less than half an hour to clean their plates. Wonwoo tended to eat at a slower pace, with smaller, more savoury bites, while Vernon sloppily devoured his entire burger and gobbled down his fries with the occasional dipping into the root beer floatâs ice cream. They scarcely talked in between, too focused on eating and drinking. Wonwoo pushed away his plate when heâd finished and proceeded to wipe off his salty, crumb-speckled fingers with a napkin, meanwhile Vernon took a moment to sink backward into the leather seat, placing a hand over his full, satiated stomach.
âHey, do yâthink they have any Life Savers?â He eventually piped up while sticking a toothpick into his mouth. âI want grape.â
Wonwoo scoffed, tossing the napkin onto his plate and taking out his phone. âWho the fuck likes grape?â
âMe, you smartass,â Vernon answered, turning backward in his seat and scanning the restaurant for any colourful candy bowls.
He couldnât deny that he was hoping to see a text from you, but there was nothing, and his chest dropped. Wonwoo decided to open the schedule you had made, curious as to what you were even doing todayâwork until five oâclock, and then you were going out for supper with some friends at Terra Cotta.
He thought about texting you. His thumbs kept hovering above the keyboard in contemplation, even though he knew for certain he wouldnât text anything. He would just stare and hope.
âHoly shit. Uh, oh my God. Wonwoo. I-I seeââ
Vernon had suddenly reached a hand onto the table, slapping the lacquered wood a few times to garner his attention.
âWhat?â He mumbled in agitation, keeping his focus glued to the phone. âIf you see the Life Savers just go up and take some. I swear, theyâre not gonna fucking care youâre not twelve years old.â
âNo, no, no, dumbass,â Vernon hissed, turning back around in the booth, his honey eyes glistering in oils of dread and panic. âLook, actually look. Thatâs Mingyu, isnât it?â
Immediately, Wonwoo clicked off his phone, instead squinting into the distant corner of the restaurant where a notably tall, black-haired boy with tanned, amber skin had emerged from a doorway, standing in a somehow casual but imposing way that only be Mingyu.
It must be Mingyu, and that fact became glaringly obvious when Wonwoo made the unintentional, floundering mistake of staring straight into the boyâs wandering and earthen brown eyes.
âOh my fuckinâ God, oh my fuckinâ God,â Vernon kept reiterating under his breath, bouncing his knee like an anxious student waiting for their test. âHe definitely saw us. Orâhe definitely saw you. This is so bad, man. I think heâs gonna rock me.â
âWhat?â Wonwoo whispered back harshly, attempting to float his gaze away from Mingyu in a casual manner. âFor what reason?â
It seemed like Vernon almost wanted to gag at him. âUmâbecause of what fuckinâ happened between me nâ his girl! At that party? I told you about that shit, didnât I?â He rasped from across the table, his bottom lip worried between biting teeth. âDude, what if he tries to pull a fast one? Youâre whatâlike six foot something? You have to help back me up. I can throw a pretty solid punchâeven better when Iâm shit-facedâbut that might not be enough. Lady Libertyâs built like a brick.â
âOkay, youâre acting crazy,â Wonwoo uttered in disbelief. âI doubt heâs going to be anything but physical, especially in a public place. And, you said you didnât know Her was in a relationship.â
âHow the fuck do I know he knows that? Canât exactly use my infectious charm on someone whose girlfriend I tried to rail.â
Vernon somehow dared to spare another rapid glance over his shoulder, only to shed an entire mould of colour from his complexion.
âHeâs coming, heâsââ
âShut up and relax,â Wonwoo mumbled. âIâm sure itâs nothing bigâheâll say a thing or two and be on his way. God, Iâll handle it.â
For some reason, Wonwoo thought he should be sinking into consternation a lot more than he actually was, but itâs not that his chest wasnât thumping or his mind wasnât spinning amuck with worry. It was more so that he was managing the whirlwind, as best he could, as much as he could manage. Mingyu wasnât a complete stranger, and all their past interactions had been boringly cordial or even forgettable. Nonetheless, Wonwoo would still prefer to avoid the boy because that made his life simpler in the grand scheme of anxiety.
âHey, Wonwoo,â Mingyu approached the table with a confident, leisurely stride, extending his large hand for Wonwoo to grab, exchanging a dap. âI almost didnât recognize you for a sec.â
âAll good,â Wonwoo answered, attempting a polite grin that felt much more sweltering on the inside than out. âHowâve you been?â
Mingyu shrugged, burying his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants while he gazed at the slitted curtains for a moment, pondering his reply. âDecent. Playing a lot of basketball. I donât think Iâve seen you since I came to the pharmacy. You still there?â
âStill there.â
âWell, at least I havenât had to come in for a fuckinâ pregnancy test yet. Thatâs good I suppose, yeah?â The boy chuckled, then tilting his head a certain way to crack a stiff spot in his neck.
âAisle five if you ever need it.â
Mingyu responded with a smirk that perhaps lasted a second too long, and these slimming, analyzing eyesâa gaze that Wonwoo felt ripple in his gut. He chose to believe it was nothing dire, or else he would spiral right there on the spot and lose all fine-tuned control.
Meanwhile Vernon had been sitting quietly the entire time, most likely hoping he would remain in the dark, skulking shadows outside Wonwooâs spotlight. But he must not have been hoping hard enough, because Mingyu proceeded to smile at him, again extending his hand for another dap, which Vernon yielded apprehensively.
âYouâre a pretty recognizable guy, unfortunately,â Mingyu acknowledged with a husky laughâa clear reference to the boyâs identifying tattoos and numerous facial piercings, âI think you deal to at least a third of my friends. Itâs Vernon, right?â
âMmhm. Yes sir.â To Vernonâs luck, he had a well-polished and gleaming smile that made it impossible for him to seem disingenuous, though Wonwoo knew he was wilting inside.
âIâm sorry about Dots.â
âOh, uh. All good. It is what it is, yâknow?â
Mingyu nodded.
âHeyâthose tattoos are crazy good. Whereâd you get them?â
Vernon looked across his arm. âThanks. Mostly Liquid Impactâdude there that I call Funfetti âcause he eats Funfetti box cake all the time. Uh, but his actual nameâs like, Axel or some white-boy shit like that. Heâs done a majority of it. The othersâman, I donât know. Half the time Iâm off my fuckinâ face and wake up with shit I never remember.â
âOh, yeah?â Mingyu sniffed, running a hand through his long, shiny onyx locks of hair. âGuess you also donât remember promising my girlfriend the best sex of her life, right?â
At that, Vernon looked straight to Wonwoo, and Wonwoo returned the enlarged, incinerating stare straight back, reading the split-second terror that swam like flopping fish in Vernonâs eyes. The atmosphere hit the ground with a palpable and ugly shatter.
âYeah, umâabout thatââ
Mingyu then balanced backward on his foot for a moment, beginning to chuckle, sway his head, as though to dismiss the entire accusation in the same intense breadth it was mentioned.
âNah, nah. Iâm playing around,â the boy chuckled, rubbing at his nose. âYou didnât know she was taken. No hard feelings, yeah?â
Vernon immediately nodded his agreement, and the tension nailed into his broad shoulder line seemed to melt. âFor sure. No hard feelings. I mean, sheâs beautiful. Canât even imagine what itâs like beinâ her boyfriend when youâve got sluts like me around.â
Mingyu grinned, âno, youâre good. I know she gave you some attitude about it. Bit of a troublemaker herself. But, yeah. Water under the bridge.â The boyâs attention then turned back to Wonwoo, who was more than eager to somehow extinguish the conversation from you as a topic. âI know sheâs hangs out with you right now.â
âOh, yeah,â Wonwoo hummed, âthe book thing.â
âShe doesnât like talking to me about it.â
âWell, donât stress,â he answered, catching the sunlight that blitzed through the curtains and dipped like a gold paintbrush into the boyâs eyes, turning them to warm molasses, âsheâll show you the whole damn thing when itâs over and done with.â
Mingyu huffed, âI thought sheâd have dropped it by now.â
âI donât think she will. Sheâs pretty committed.â
âHm.â He nodded simply in response, kissing his teeth.
Vernon folded his arms, leaning back into the leather seat with the toothpick again sitting in his mouth. âYou got any plans for the summer, then? Doesnât your pal always throw a huge party?â
âYeah, actually. Doing it this year if we can manage. Seungcheolâs parents pretty much spend their entire summer bouncing around all the Great Lakes. Weâre gonna do a co-hosting type deal andâshit, since youâre here, this is really good timing.â Mingyu then looked down at Vernon and lowered his gravelly voice. âI know what your main gig is. What about blow? You sell it?â
A slow but gradual, catlike grin trudged the edges of Vernonâs mouth, to which he pulled out his toothpick and set his elbows onto the table. âLook, canât chop it up here, man. Ask one of your friends for my burner. I can get you to the ski slope, but it costs, obviously.â
âNah, thatâs fine. Itâs justâmy last plug fell through.â
âTough.â
âYeah. Okay, well, I should get going. Iâll follow up with you later. Do you care if Seungcheol knows the number, too?â
âNo,â Vernon shrugged, planting the toothpick into the corner of his mouth and flicking it with his tongue, âjust donât go throwinâ it around. I could only get enough for a couple people, anyway.â
âAll good. Okayâlater, guys.â
Mingyu stepped away from the table with a wave and a flash of his pearled, charming smile, nothing but the mild scent of his fresh and expensive-smelling cologne to swirl through the now vacant space. In true espionage fashion, Wonwoo and Vernon both picked open the slots between the restaurant curtains, cautiously observing the boyâs stride into the parking lot and onto the sidewalk, where he at last disappeared into the warm, sunny afternoon.
Heaving a gigantic exhausted breath, Wonwoo took off his glasses and set them in his lap, massaging deep into his eye sockets.
âYâknow, heâs not that fuckinâ bad,â Vernon commented, âI mean, he scares the shit outta me, but that could have gone worse.â
"Jesus ChristâI canât believe what I just watched.â
His friend laughed, banging his fist excitedly enough on the table to engender the silverware clattering on their plates. âHa! I know, right? DudeâSeungcheol and Mingyu are the kingpins of that fuckinâ university you go to. They can cough up the big bucks for that shit. Just imagine the distribution pay I'm gonna get with them on my rosterâactually, that couldnât have gone better.â
âAnd where are you gonna get it?â Wonwoo pressured, at last settling his glasses back on, clarifying Vernonâs smudged, blurry face.
âWell, let me fuck around and work my magic.â
âI donât want him to use you.â
âPfft. I donât give no fucks about being used,â Vernon cackled, wearing a self-indulgent, luminous smile and continuing to play around with the toothpick while he readied his wallet to pay. âYou know what you should worry about, Glasses? Sweet talkinâ the fuck outta that dudeâs girl and securin' yourself an invite. You probably donât even need to try sweet talkinââshe obviously likes you.â
âNo,â Wonwoo grumbled, âno way.â
âYou donât want to go?â
âWhy would I want to go, dumbass? The last time I went to a party, I ran into you. Theyâre loud and suffocating. Iâll pass.â Wonwoo also pulled out his wallet, taking his card. âBesides, I get the sense Mingyu doesnât trust me a whole lot. Iâm not gonna stir the pot.â
Vernon shook his head. âYou stir the pot every time you hang out with his girl to go write romantic poetry and run around, gigglinâ at Spring Street. Nâyeah, exactly. You met me. I donât get the fuss.â
âItâs nothing like that," Wonwoo answered in frustration.
âYeah, yeah. Youâre a Patron Saint. I just want my Life Saver.â
âMAY 19TH.
Wonwoo was going to your apartment today for the first time, and it had nearly killed him in the process.
His abhorrent sleep schedule hung over his head every single instance he woke up at lunchtime, the entirety of his mornings wasted to weathered heartbreak and its lasting, stained consequences. Needing to be at your apartment for ten had Wonwoo buckling his face into anguished hands the night before, wondering how he was going to pull off such a triumph without wishing for death. Â
He did know one thing for certainâthe sound of his alarm erupting into its timely, strident beeping made him instantly sick. In fact, the first thing Wonwoo did was half-stumble in complete bleariness out from his bed, dragging a white sheet along by his ankle as he burst into the washroom and hung his head over the toilet like he was sweating through a wicked hangover. But it wasnât alcohol. It was months of bad, soul-stitched habit festered up in stomach bile and perhaps, a hatred for himself. It was his own fault, in a way.
And yet, when you texted him a half-hour later to reconfirm your address, Wonwoo replied with not the slightest hint that he was feeling pretty fucking terrible. The headache and shudders followed him down the street, onto the bus, and into the lobby of your notably opulent apartment complex. He felt rather incongruous amongst all the marbleâthe white trim, the clean, untainted air, even the breakfast table with dispensable lemon water and small, fruit-topped pastries that somehow made Wonwoo want to kill himself.
He looked down at his phone.
[ Her | 9:10 am ]: 717 thorton street, unit 61
[ Her | 9:45 am ]: are you almost here? :)
Wonwoo pressed the button to the elevator.
[ Wonwoo | 9:50 am ]: Yes. In the building.
His phone vibrated immediately with a text.
[ Her | 9:50 am ]: Iâm so excited
The doors pulled apart. Wonwoo stepped aside for a couple who were leaving the elevator before he entered. Quickly, he clicked the button to close the doors, not wanting to share the space with anyone but himself and the headache throbbing at the forefront of his cranium. He sighed, glancing at his texts again to reply.
[ Wonwoo | 9:51 am ]: Do you have any Tylenol?
[ Her | 9:51 am ]: most def
[ Her | 9:51 am ]: whatâs wrong?
[ Wonwoo | 9:52 am ]: Nothing much. Just a headache.
When he didnât receive an immediate answer, he assumed you had put the phone down to search your medicine cabinet. Getting off the elevator, Wonwoo proceeded to find the correct apartment. He put his fist up to the door, and then, at the last second, stopped.
There it was againâthe same melting pot of anxiety and butterflies that had bubbled up when you first visited his place.
He supposed the feelings never truly disappeared each time he would see you, and he was beginning to detest it. Why couldnât his body just adapt? Get over it? What purpose did it serve to constantly remind him of his unkempt emotions? It was like the idea of you terrified him more than you as an actual person, because in person, he felt comfort, as crazy as it sounded. So why couldnât his anxiety and security just complete that stupid sliver of a synapse for once?
Knock knock.
After a moment, the handle clicked, and the door to sumptuous unit 61 was pulled open. For the first time, Wonwoo saw your face without any makeup, and it sort of made him stutter in his wordsânot that he was shocked in abhorrence at the contrast, more so the vulnerability behind it, the fact you felt comfortable enough to shed your compulsion with always presenting a perfect, glamoured face. He was pleased to see you were in a fuzzy pair of pink shorts and a white, thin long-sleeve that were basically pyjamas.
Maybe it was weird to think, but you seemed more human.
âYou made good timing. Iâm impressed.â
âThanks,â Wonwoo answered while stepping inside, toeing off his sneakers next to your plethora of shoes at the doormat.
âI would obviously say tour first, but I have your Tylenol sitting on the counter over here, for your headache. Can you dry swallow or do you need water?â
âDry swallow?â Wonwoo laughed, following you toward the kitchen area. âWho the fuck dry swallows any sort of pill?â
âI donât know! Personally, I donât. But there are some freaks out there who do. I was actually testing you. And you passed.â
âLucky me,â he sighed.
Taking a seat at one of stools displayed around the large, granite-surface island, Wonwoo waited for you to pour him some water. Obviously, the apartment was spacious, gorgeousâthe large, white-fluffed rug in the centre of the living room was definitely suited to you, though he was surprised by the tall, lush potted plants aligned by the window panelling. He didnât know you had a green thumb.
While placing down the water, you shifted closely into the seat beside him, and Wonwoo could smell the scent of strawberries on your skin. You let your chin press into the hammock made with your hands, watching as he set the pill on his tongue and gulped it down.
âSo, is it really bad?â
Wonwoo turned the glass back and forth atop its coaster, deciding on whether or not he should tell the truth. It always tended to sting him when he lied, and so he turned to you, shrugging.
âI felt it when I woke up. But itâs manageable.â
âOh, I get that sometimes.â
âItâs because of my repulsive sleep schedule, no doubt.â
You smiled at him, adjusting your leg under the island.
âIs that why you prefer afternoons all the time?â
âPretty much. Itâs a horrible habit. Iâll break it somehow, Iâm sure. Just a stupid hump to get over. Anywayââ Wonwoo slung the laptop bag off his shoulder and onto the counter, ââyour place looks pretty sweet. How are you? Whatâs the plan for today?â
âWell,â you hummed, slapping an arm down onto the reflective granite, âIâve wrote some more this week. Iâd love for you to proofread it. Maybe we can go out for lunch later, but youâd need to give me time to get ready. I mean, I did shower this morningâŠâ
He watched you pause, and then swallow. "You donât care, do you?â
âAbout what?â Wonwoo answered.
âOh, wellânever mind, then.â
âNo, what is it? What donât I care about?â
You started to grin, hiding half your face with a hand that slowly scraped across your cheek, as though to rub off any remaining lethargy from the morning light. Wonwoo waited for you to answer.
â⊠I look like a mole.â
He at last realized what you meant.
âNo, you donât.â
âI was just feeling lazy. I know, gasp, what an insane word to come from my mouth. But Iâm glad you donât care. I didnât think you would, but I still wasnât sure. At least your reaction wasnât obvious. My chin is breaking out so please donât stare at it, if you can help it.â
âOh, well, you know, you lookââ that one banished word almost slipped, but Wonwoo smoothly mended the break, âyouâyou have nothing to worry about. I get breakouts, too. It sucks, but itâs life.â
Your bare, soft face turned cheerful in a fawning smile.
âI know. I guess I'm just not very used to the feeling of people seeing me like this. Did you want to do lunch later?â
Wonwoo leaned back in the small seat, running his hands up his knees, knowing damn well he hadnât eaten breakfast.
âUh, I should probably start with like, cereal or something.â
âYou didnât eat?â
âNo appetite.â
âIâll fix you something. Unfortunately, no cereal. But I'll get some the next time Mingyu and I do groceries. So, what do you like best? Toast? Oatmeal? Scrambled eggs and toast? Orange juice? Bagel?â
At the mere mention of orange juice, his fist clenched. Attempting not to dwell so obviously, Wonwoo straightened up and smiled.
âI like toast.â
âThatâs good. Itâll be easy on your stomach.â
Wonwoo watched you squeeze off the stool and open the fridge to pull out a plastic bag of bread. He watched you stand on your tiptoes to reach into the highest cupboard and grab a plate. He watched you pop open a jar of fresh raspberry jam and slot the bread into the toaster. He could watch you do anything, it seemed.
Anything at all.
It took Wonwoo about half an hour to eat his raspberry toast and skim through the newest additions to your document. You were getting more into the thick of your relationship with Mingyuâjust as youâd warnedâbut Wonwoo was able to gloss most cloying paragraphs without too much bitterness or personal weight clouding his possible critiques. Wonwoo was still seated at the island, meanwhile you were lying face down on the plump-cushioned couch, an arm dangling off the side. In a morbid way, you looked very much dead if not for the shallow rising and dipping of your back.
âDone, for the most part.â
Your head perked up, and he was relieved to see you hadnât fallen asleep or suffocated. âWhen will you add your notes?â
âAfter lunch. Is that okay?â
âMmhm.â
âSoâŠâ Wonwoo slid down in the chair, reaching out his arms with a gigantic yawn, âyou actually snuck into his basketball game?â
âYeah,â you sighed, letting your chin snuggle into the blanket strewn underneath you, âI was obsessed with him. I couldnât help it.â
âI wouldnât expect your first date to be at the nature museum. The way you wrote about the butterfly exhibit was nice, though.â
âIt was fun. Mingyu wasnât the biggest fan, but I had always wanted to go. There was this huge skeleton of a blue whale, and sometimes the museum would play the whaleâs balladââ you flopped onto your back, staring up at the ceiling with a tender, ardent laugh as your fingers twirled the fluffy knots of the throw, ââit used to scare Mingyu so bad. He kept telling me he was gonna leave our date unless we went to another exhibit.â
âThe sound can be pretty jarring if youâve never heard it before, to be fair,â Wonwoo reasoned, now massaging down his legs.
Shoving your body to sit upright on the couch, you poked out your tongue at him, grinning, âdonât defend his loserness.â
He huffed in response, âmy bad.â
âShould we do a tour now? I really want to show you my room. And if I keep lying on the couch, Iâll fall asleep.â
âUh, sure. Do you want me to wash my plate?â
âNo, no, itâs fine. Just leave it in the sink.â
After Wonwoo cleaned off the granite island, he came to join you in the living room, the white rug resembling what he imagined a cloud to feel like underneath his socked feet.
A thought had suddenly popped into his head.
âThereâs a nature museum here, too.â
You grabbed the blanket, wearing it like a shawl around your shoulders. Wonwoo had never seen you so sleepy before.
âI know.â
âHave you ever gone?â
âNo. Not at all. I did ask Mingyu once when we first came here for university. But I think he was still mortified from the whale thing. I dunno. Anyway, is that your round-about way of asking if I ever want to go? Because I would, to help with the story.â
Wonwoo scratched along his collarbone, heated with the itch of being blatantly exposed for his plotting. However, he hadnât suggested the museum with the intention of employing it as a visual to sharpen up your scene-work. He was hoping to go just for the sake of itâlike a palate cleanser, as you had previously mentioned.
But he obviously wasnât going to articulate that.
âWe can plan it more later,â he said.
The tour started in the living room, which Wonwoo had become well acquainted with throughout his half hour of sitting at the kitchen island, occasionally flicking his eyes toward the couch to ensure you were still alive. You explained that the pristine white rug was a housewarming gift from Mingyuâs parents when you first moved into the apartment, and he felt guilty for even stepping on it.
He decided to ask about the plants by the windows.
âOh, I donât actually look after those,â you answered, touching at one of the heavy and balmy-looking green leaves from a plant nearly as tall as you, âSeokmin comes over to water them and stuff, gives them special nutrient foodâeven sprays their leaves with this misty bottle thing. I tried giving them all to him, but he says heâs got no space at his apartmentâwhich is total bull by the way.â
âMaybe he just wants an excuse to see you.â
âYeah,â you scoffed, rolling your eyes, âdoesnât everyone?â
Wonwoo bit back a stupid little smile as he followed you into your bedroomâthe place you seemed most enthralled for him to finally see. You twirled into the open space and threw the blanket off your shoulders, then whipping your hands into the air akin to a magician whoâd just performed the most grandiose magic trick.
âTada! Bedroom reveal!â
He pushed up his glasses, taking a good, solid look around at everything he could: the prestigious makeup vanity with the drawers left half-open, your dresser, lined with photographs of what he assumed to be friends, family, and Mingyu, the beaded, dangling chandelier, the ajar closet doors that revealed your unsurprising magnitude of outfitsâskirts and dresses and professional blazers and lascivious things from threads of lace and silk. He finally looked to your beautiful bed, which you proceeded to flop onto.
âThis is my favourite part,â you hummed.
Taking some further steps into the bedroom, Wonwoo began recognizing smaller details, though he couldnât explain what he was feeling. He always thought a bedroom was such a personal, intimate space, like a treasure chest stuffed with memories and pieces of personâs essence that couldnât be captured using words alone. To sit on someoneâs bed, or sift through their drawers for a pen, or even grab a shirt from their closetâhe felt it was all so⊠sacred. It was the reason he had such a hard time having others in his bedroom.
âThe bed is your favourite?â He wondered.
âYes,â you giggled, a glimmer flashing into your eyes like diamonds in the sun as you climbed onto your knees.
Before Wonwoo knew what was happening, you had clutched a hand into his shirt and jerked him toward the covers. He landed beside you, and his heart thrust with electricity.
âYou could have just asked me to sit,â he chuckled, wiping some wrinkles off his shirt and adjusting his glasses.
âNope.â
âBedâs comfy.â
âDuh,â you sunk backward, smirking at him, âitâs a bed.â
âHey, you should have seen the bed I had growing up in Changwon. My older brother and I, we hated it. Shit was like sleeping on a piece of cardboard. It didnât get better for years.â
Propping your head onto a pillow, you continued to smile prettily at him with those entrancing eyes, and for a second, this piercing fear struck in the core of Wonwooâs chest that he had just spoke about himselfâactually spoke about himselfâin a manner that screamed of vulnerability. He felt terror. Why did he do that?
âHm. I guess Iâm just spoiled, with my memory foam and all.â
At least you didnât push into the topic. You were getting better at that, almost like you could interpret the subtle tweaks in his face or the stiffening of his bones. Wonwoo rested his elbows on his knees.
âYour roomâs nice. It smells like you.â
He heard you giggle, âwhat? Like strawberries?â
Wonwoo pursed his lip, looked down at his fingers. âYeahâŠâ
For a moment, his eyes lingered unfaithfully on your exposed midriff, down to the fluffy hem of those pink lounge shorts. He squeezed his wrist tight, practically stopping his own blood flow, willing himself not to think anything unhinged that would simmer up to fuel his self-hatred later. The longer your head spent sinking into that plump pillow, the more your lids fluttered with sleep. As he continued to gaze about the room, he spotted the pink stuffed bear that heâd won you at the Spring Street Fair, sitting atop your bedside table.
âYouâve still got that?â
âHm?â You pushed up onto your elbows, yawning. âOh, yeah! âCourse I still have her. Itâs a perfect little memento from that night.â
âWell, I did go through a lot of effort to win it.â
âOh, Iâm aware... wanna know what I named her?â
âWhat?â
âMiss Priss.â
Honestly, Wonwoo was surprised you hadnât stuffed it into your closet or abandoned the toy in some innocuous corner of your apartment. Instead the bearâs vibrant pink face and slightly lopsided eyes were staring him down, making him rerun Vernonâs words in his head: âyou stir the pot every time you hang out with his girl to go write romantic poetry and run around, gigglinâ at Spring Street.â
Wonwoo immediately shoved the memory aside, letting the implications sizzle up and burn on the hot coals of his brain.
âHm. Funny.â
You rolled your eyes.
Wonwoo tapped his wrist, thinking.
âSo, uh, I hope you donât mind me asking this, but why donât you live with Mingyu? I know he stays over some nights.â
Lifting yourself up with one arm, you shrugged, opting to stroke a hand along the blanket to smooth out some crinkles. âI donât want to move in with anyone unless Iâm engaged.â
âActually?â
âYeah. I mean, that's what I told my parents, at least. They used to really push for us to have an apartment together. Which makes sense. They freaking love him. I swear, more than me," you laughed, picking at your shirt. "I get it, too. Mingyu and I have pretty much been tied at the hip all these years. But we agreed that we wouldn't live together until things went to the next level. He does keep a lot of his stuff here for when he does stay over, and vice versa. Heâs got an extra key and everything, his own nightstand, bathroom stuff.â
âAnd thatâs for certain?â
You tilted your head. âWhatâs for certain?â
âThe engagement thing. Or was it just to shake off your parents?â
âWell⊠I guess I mean it. Is that weird to you?â
âNo,â Wonwoo said. âI personally haven't heard it plenty.â
âYeah, most people are surprised to learn we donât live together. I guess we really give off the impression that we're together in most things, if not everything. It's good to get a little space, though."
âWell, I understand itâwanting to have your own space. I mean, I think everyone should try living alone, just once if they have to. You learn more about yourself, I suppose.â
You cracked a smile at him. âWhat have you learned?â
Wonwoo chuckled, knowing all the things he could never say were tingling right on the tip of his tongue. âWell, I meant in a general sense. I wasn't exactly talking about myself.â
âHaâyou learned how to be a hermit.â
âI'm pretty sure I was always like that.â
âYeah, but probably not that bad.â
âThat bad?â He furrowed his dark brows at you, staring straight into your eyes that twinkled with challenge. âMeaning what?â
âPlease, you would not leave that apartment if it wasnât for your commitment to the book. Maybe for work, some groceries every now and then. Otherwise, your ass is not leaving.â
âDamn. Just call me a loser.â
âFine,â you huffed, pushing up onto your knees, âloser.â
Wonwoo managed to hold the penetrating, spirited strength of your gaze, and he was proud of himself for doing so, even if his heart felt like it was going to leap into his throat. It was still difficult for him to be routinely engaged in eye contact, but he knew how much you appreciated itâthe feeling of being listened to and experiencing someoneâs dedication to presenting their full attention.
Since it was getting close to lunch time, Wonwoo figured you might want to start thinking of where to eat. He was getting notably hungry, and having to function off some toast coated thinly in raspberry jam wouldnât be enough to power him throughout his proofreading. He pulled out his phone, wanting to check the time, and began sliding off your comfortable, warm bed.
âDid you want toââ
âHey, wait, wait, waitââ Wonwoo felt your hand curl around his bicep in a firm grip and begin to pull him back down, ââbefore we get up and everything, I want to talk to you about something.â
Oh no.
His stomach writhed.
Wonwoo started praying it wasnât about his and Vernonâs encounter with Mingyu at Solar Popânot that anything particularly terrible or concerning had happenedâbut maybe Mingyu had mentioned something to you. Maybe he didnât like Wonwoo and thought it was best you stop writing together, stop seeing each other.
His mind started quivering with a steadfast hurricane of awful thought and Wonwoo knew the flushed colour had most likely drained from his face as quickly as a popped balloon.
Your hand remained on his bicep, squeezing it.
âWhy do you look so worried, already?â You chuckled in a quiet voice, rubbing his arm until Wonwoo visibly relaxed. âI havenât even said anything yet. Unless, you think I should be worried, too.â
âNo.â Wonwoo shook his head. âJustânever mind.â
âHm, well, thatâs kind of what I want to talk about.â
As your hand drifted off his arm, Wonwoo sat crossed-legged, narrowing his eyes at you in question. âWhat do you mean?â
The conversation began with a clunk of silence, to which you glanced down at the bed for a moment, clearly biting on your inner cheek in contemplation. Wonwoo desperately wanted you to spit it out. He hated when empty words hung so burdensomely in the air.
âWell⊠thereâs no easy way to bring it up. And Iâm not sure youâll even want to talk about it with me, but I keep noticing it, again and again. I think itâs at least worth it to put it on the table. And, if itâs not my business, you can freely tell me to screw off.â
âOh⊠okay.â
And then you were looking at him, not with any sort of accusation or anger or even disappointment. Somehow, Wonwoo knew what you were going to say, and he braced himself for it.
âDo you⊠do you have anxiety?â
Wonwoo said nothing. He wasnât sure if it was an issue of not wanting to speak or being unable to.
You breathed out heavily in response.
âOkay, silence, I definitely saw that comingâbut, um, Iâm not stupid, you know? Your face just gets so pale, and I feel like I can see the heartbeat in your chest⊠and you always do that thing with your fist. Clenching it. It always looks so painful but you never seem to care andâanywayâI just⊠I can tell when it happens and it kind of bothers me that you try to like, shrug it off or call it âspacing outâ when itâs really clearly not. And, maybe thatâs my fault.â
His gaze had shifted to lock with yours.
Again, you werenât staring at him with any malice or dejectionâheâd come to learn that your eyes were actually quite soft most of the time, soft but always glittering, like a handful of silk. Still, Wonwoo couldnât yet find his words, which must have come across as remarkably shocking for someone who spent their whole life grabbing all the shiny bits of possible vernacular.
You sat up straighter, touching his knee.
âIs it my fault you donât want to talk about it? Can I at least know that much?â There was an imploring desperation in your face.
Wonwoo at last cleared his throat.
âI donât talk about it with anyone.â
âOkay, I get that. But, did I make you feel like you couldnât bring it up? At all?â Your fingers dug a little harder into his knee, though Wonwoo knew you probably hadnât realized it. âI justâI do want to know, actually. Because sometimes I let myself get in the way of being present for other people. But I care. I honestly do.â
He nodded, cracking his knuckles.
âI mean⊠I definitely wouldnât have thought to bring it up with you. I guess I felt like, if I did, what would it accomplish? You might think Iâm incapable or⊠I donât know.â He shoved his hands underneath his glasses, rubbing at the indents on his nose. âAs you can see, Iâm not the best at talking about it. I donât talk about it.â
You folded your legs in similar fashion to Wonwoo.
âWell⊠um⊠do you⊠is there anyone that could, like⊠I donât know what Iâm saying. I guess, are you coping alright, is what Iâm asking. I really donât mean to overstep. I swear.â
At that, he chuckled quite loudly. Your face twitched in surprise at his reaction, and the hand slipped off his knee.
âIt really doesnât matter. I just deal with it.â
No. He took nothing. He did nothing. Wonwoo just sat and suffered and felt no initiative to help himself. At that point, he really didnât want to dissect the topic any further. He could sense the slithering under his skin, the way his body physically bristled like a perturbed cat at the thought of having to be any more open than what he'd already shared. The choices he made in his life werenât important if he was going to end up back in the same slippery trench.
âOh. Well, I hope you take care of yourself,â you said with a smile, giving his bicep another gentle squeeze. âThatâs all.â
âJUNE 2ND.
About two weeks had passed since Wonwoo visited your apartment. Afterward, you had met up four times to continue writing and making small ventures to places that you deemed vital for developing your story. Wonwoo found himself enjoying most trips.
He remembered the ice cream shop. Apparently, it was the date where Mingyu had officially asked you to be his girlfriend. You had gotten their most popular strawberry cheesecake flavour while Wonwoo ordered mint chocolate chip, which was a rather boring but favourite classic of his. No doubt, you sat across from him on their outside patio the entire time, pitting remarks about how awful his choice was in lieu of writing anything down in your document. With every spoonful he ate, Wonwoo had to keep reminding you to stay focused, and eventually, his repetitious ordering worked.
"Did you actually come here to get any writing done or did you just want the ice cream? We're not palate-cleansing are we?"
"Why can't two things be true at once?"
âCan I see your laptop?â
âNoâhey! Donât try to grab it!â
âWhy? Because youâve written fuck all?â
"For your information, I have a bullet-point list going."
"Oh, yeah. A bullet-point list, hm?"
"Yes. It has all my major writing points. Point number one: Mingyu seats me down at the table. He's clearly nervous. We've only been in the shop for a minute or two and he won't stop brushing his hair behind his ears. Point number two: Mingyu grabs our ice cream from the counter. He gives me his flavour, rocky road, by accident, and then we awkwardly laugh and switch. Point number three: I remember thinking his nerves were endearing, andâ"
"Okay, okay. I get it."
"Exactly. Let this be a lesson in poor assumption. Don't try to assume anything about me, Wonwoo. It's probably wrong."
And then there had been the journey to Mooneyâs Bay, one of the most well-known beaches outside the cityâprobably because the lake actually looked a clean, salty blue and the soft sand wasnât littered with drifting pieces of plastic. It had been the first place Wonwoo took his brother when he came to visit from his office in Korea, and the picture they had taken together with their pant legs cuffed up, standing knee deep in the water, was still pinned to the corkboard in Wonwooâs bedroom. However, Wonwoo hadnât been back to the beach since, until you dragged him there in an hour-long car ride. He had mostly looked out the window, thinking, as always.
You said that Mooneyâs Bay reminded you of a cove from your hometown, a more clandestine one, where you and Mingyu used to splash around in the isolated, iridescent waters at night, laughing into the chilled breeze and coughing up all the liquid splatted into the otherâs face. Wonwoo had used the video camera to record some footage of the beach per your request. By evening, most people had packed up their coolers and umbrellas and sun towels, granting him more freedom to film wider, panned shots. He remembered standing at the foam shoreline, feeling the sand squelch wetly under his bare feet, recording you wading further and deeper into the water that reflected like a bleeding, scarlet portrait of stained glass.
âIt feels amazing! You should come in!â
âI canât. Itâll ruin the camcorder.â
âSo put it down! In the bag! Thereâs enough footage.â
âBut the sun is setting behind you. It makes for a good shot.â
"So just hurry up! The water is the perfect temperature."
"Butâ"
âIâm not asking you. Iâm telling you.â
"Well, I don't know... I, uhâI can't swim."
"This isn't swimming, this is wading. Just go up to your knees. It's been a hot, long day. I think this will help get the scowl off your face."
â⊠Fine. At least give me a second to fix my pants.â
The third location, while not his favourite, had been an open bar that was conveniently placed a few streets over from his job at the pharmacy. Wonwoo had went there a number of times with Vernon in the past, usually after he finished a midterm or handed in some grating assignment, though Vernon tended to drink more than his body could sufficiently handle. By the end of the night, Wonwoo would most often find himself being a mediator between his tattooed, foul-mouthed friend and whatever blundering, equally drunk idiot he happened to be arguing with.
It was too much for his anxiety.
Nonetheless, heâd met you there after work despite the churning cauldron of memories that he harboured, unsurprised to find you seated at a small table swarmed with dewy drinks and shots that interested observers had sent over. Wonwoo felt each digging, plying stare that sculpted against his back as he sat beside youâhe even choked down one of your retched tequila shots (while not the best idea), hoping it would mellow him out.
You never really explained why the bar was pertinent to your history with Mingyuâor, maybe you had, and Wonwoo was simply one flaming shot past coherent of properly digesting your words. He did, however, remember your entire, almost scientific explanation of why you liked wearing low-cut or heavily revealing tops at the bar, and Wonwoo had listened along as best he could manage, even when that floating sensation started hazing through his mind. At one point, this girl who Wonwoo had never encountered once in his life came up to him with a polite tap on his shoulder and an inquiring smile.
âHeyâsorry to intrudeâand this may be a super dumb question, but you are guys together?â
âNo, no. Not at all. Iâve got a boyfriend. Heâs single.â
âOh, perfect. I was justâI was sitting over there, in the corner with my friends, if you can see. AnywaysâI said something dumb about how you were really good looking, and now Iâve been dared to come up and ask for your number. So, um, yeahâŠâ
âNo, Iâm good. Thank you.â
âO-Oh. Wait⊠are you⊠being serious?â
âYes.â
âOh. Sorry. This is really fucking embarrassing⊠uh, I guess I wonât linger then. Bye.â
â⊠Jeez⊠had a bit much to drink or something?â
âNoâjust donât like giving out my number to strangers.â
âShe was cute, though. Probably a fun one-night stand.â
âThen you have sex with her, yeah?â
âHa! Youâre so funny. Whenâs the last time you even had sex? I mean, you obviously pull. At least, I think you doâŠâ
âI donât remember. Months and months ago, I guess.â
âWow! Zero play. I kind of respect it. I could never, though. So⊠actually, let me guess: youâre the type of person that canât have sex without attachment? You need to be in love?â
âWhatâs it to you?â
âIâm just asking.â
âI donât know.â
âGod. Youâre so fucking boring, Wonwoo.â
âBecause I donât go out of my way to find some pretty girl to have sex with every week, Iâm boring? How does that make sense?â
âNo, not that. I mean the fact you never really want to discuss anything about yourself. Honestly, sometimes talking to you is like pulling teeth, yâknow? Anyway, move back a little. Backwards cap with the earrings has been staring on and off for the last ten minutes and I want one more free shot before I call it a night.â
The most recent place you had been together was the popular drive-in at Richmondâs Farm. Wonwoo knew that in the autumn months leading up to Halloween, the venue was turned into a haunted carnival with all the typical attractions: pumpkin patches, horror movie screenings, corn mazes, and masked, fake blood-spattered psychopaths chasing people around with a roaring chainsaw.
Seokmin, despite being quite weak-stomached and completely disastrous when it came to anything horror-related, had actually implored Wonwoo to go the year before after hearing the raves about their newest House of Nightmares, although Wonwoo declined in order to study for a test.
Really, there was no test.
Wonwoo just hadnât been in the mood for losing all his hair and being crammed into pitch black, narrow corridors with a murderer promptly waiting around the corner. He hoped Seokmin wouldnât ask him again this yearâthen his excuse would be obvious.
In the spring and summer, however, the farm mostly broadcast screenings at their drive-in theatre behind the maize field, and you had leaped at the opportunity to go because it was the perfect chance to relive one of your favourite dates with Mingyu. By your explanation, heâd taken you to see Crazy, Stupid, Love before you two had departed your hometown for university. But the drive-in obviously wasnât playing that movie, and so you two had to settle for watching their only available screening, 500 Days of Summer.
Wonwoo hated that movie.
Of course, he hadnât told you that.
Before the movie had started, Wonwoo helped you throw down a blanket into your trunk alongside some couch pillows that you grabbed from your apartment, creating a makeshift lounge in the rear of the car. Since the screening was late at nightâand way past your typical good girl bedtimeâyou were worried about falling asleep halfway into the movie, though Wonwoo promised he would keep an eye on you to ensure you wouldnât miss anything important.
Since it was too dark to film anything of quality on the camcorder, Wonwoo left you alone in the blanket-pillow trunk to scribble down any nostalgic, limerent sentiments while he grabbed some snacks. You had told him to get gummy bears, because you hated the way broken pieces of popcorn kernel shells would sliver between your teeth and dig into your gums, neither did you want a soft drink since it would be an abundance of sugar before bed, and it always resulted in a breakout the next morning. He was able to make it back to the car just before the screening started.
He remembered how strange it all seemed, sitting so close to you underneath the blanket, occasionally feeling your elbow dig into his arm or your knee bump his thigh, and the sharp blip it would cause in his pulse. Wonwoo remembered how often you complained about the temperature throughout the movieâfirst, itâs too hot, now, itâs too cold, youâre too close to me, youâre too far away and Iâm cold again, I need the blanket, I donât want the blanketâWonwoo hadnât realized a personâs body temperature could fluctuate that drastically.Â
However, the worst part of that night happened about half an hour before the movie ended, just when Wonwoo was beginning to feel relieved about going home. You were getting sleepier by the minute, and Wonwoo could tell from the yawning every now and then, wanting desperately to rub at your eyes but refusing because it would smother the mascara into somewhat concerning, black whorls.
You had nudged his arm, and when he glanced over at your face, exhausted and half-illuminated under the watery, bright cast of light from the screen, you asked him in a quiet, dulcet voice: âis it okay if I rest my head on your shoulder for a few minutes?â
Wonwoo had wanted to say noâof course you canât, because if you do, I will sit here stiff, and hardly breathing, and listening only to my own heartbeat. It will be the sole thing Iâll think about for the next three days no matter what I do to mask the memory. Iâll keep thinking about it until you burn out in my mind like a star.
But then Wonwoo had agreed instead.
He proceeded to clench his fist upon feeling the weight of your head sink softly to his shoulder. Your legs had been curled up underneath you, and your knees were then pressing flush against his leg. Every breath he inhaled was faintly tainted with the scent of your sweet, fragrant shampoo and it was fucking killing him.
âYouâre so tense,â you had whispered in a giggle, âif it makes you uncomfortable, I donât have to. Itâs just because Iâm tired.â
âNoââ it had come out somewhat like a blurt, and Wonwoo just knew the tips of his ears were tingling red, ââitâs okay. I promise.â
âYou sure?â
âIâm sure⊠what?â
âJust wanted to look in your eyes when you said it.â
âFuck, not that again.â
âI have to know!â
âOkay, thatâs fine. Movieâs almost over, anyway. Just donât fall asleep because then I really wonât know what to do.â
That had been four days ago.
Now, it was almost midnight. Wonwoo was sitting on the roof of his apartment with a messily rolled up blunt in his fingersâthe second one he prepared, mostly out of impatienceâdrawing in a slow and deep breath that ghosted from his lips like wispy fog flowing down a shallow hill. He then coughed twice by his elbow, attempting to clear the stinging prickle that caught against his throat.
âYouâre so fucking full of it,â Wonwoo laughed.
âNo! Iâm not.â
âYou did not write thirty pages in a day.â
âUhâactually, I did! And the fact you donât believe me is a testament to your own wilted motivation. I am very motivated.â
He smiled at the sound of your voice crackling through his phone, which heâd been holding with the latter hand. Breathing in another hit, Wonwoo pulled at the sides of his black beanie, grinning through the thin cloud that was exhaled in a quick, neat puff.
âOkay, you wrote thirty pages. Didnât have to fucking drag my career through the mud in doing so. I mean, I guess itâs a hobby.â
âFor all I know, youâre the biggest poser that ever posed.â
âYeah?â
âYes. I still donât know what you write about.â
âI told you.â
âNoâyou fucking didnât. You said something vague and ambiguous that could have meant literally anything. All I had to go off were some sing-songy praises from Seokmin.â
âI give you pretty good notes, though.â
âYeah, whatever.â
âSo I must be decent.â
âI donât even know why I bothered calling you. I was supposed to be in bed, like, an hour ago. Youâre such a distraction.â
âFuck,â Wonwoo laughed, tapping the warm blunt to knock off a clump of papery ash, âitâs been an hour already?â
âYes.â
âWell, I donât know why you called either.â
âTo complain about that lady whose makeup I had to do today! She was horrible. God, were you not listening?!â
âNo, no, I was. She told you the makeup she wanted, you said it wouldnât suit her too well, and then she got all pissed off when it looked exactly how you said it would. Thatâs not what I meant.â
âOh. Well⊠I just thought you should know about it.â
âMmhm.â
Silence followed his velvet, almost teasing hum, but Wonwoo didnât mind it, and he assumed you didnât either. Your phone call had been completely out of the blue, only a few minutes after heâd climbed onto the roof and started sparking his lighter. An hour had already passedâWonwoo couldnât believe it. Time had never seemed so blurred and insignificant before, like tomorrow didnât exist at all.
âI didnât know you smoked.â
Wonwoo repositioned the phone in his hand.
âFrom time to time, yeah.â
âWhat strain?â
âNorthern Lights.â
âIâve never had that one. I mean, Iâm not much of a stoner, and neither is Mingyu. I donât like the way it feels in my throatâthat dry, burning feeling. And I hate the cotton mouth afterward.â
âShouldnât be that bad if youâre inhaling it right.â
âWell, maybe you can teach me one day.â
He let the blunt hang from the corner of his mouth for a moment, a very fluttery-feeling smile taking shape. Not wanting you to hear that slight bit of giddiness in his tone, Wonwoo took another hit, holding the smoke in for longer than usual before exhaling.
âDo you, uh⊠do you still want to go to that museum?â
âOhâthe nature museum?â
âYeah.â
âIâll have to do some poking around in my schedule. I have this stupid leadership council meeting for SSA that I have to go to.â
âThatâs fine. Text me when you figure it out.â
âOkay⊠gosh, itâs really fucking late.â
âYeah, you should get some sleep.â
âAre you pushing me off the phone? If anything, I should be the one pushing. Youâre not doing anything to fix your terrible sleep schedule. And I certainly donât want you to ruin mine.â
âThatâs what Iâm sayingâyou need to get some sleep.â
âWell, you shouldnât have said it like that.â
âHow did I say it?â
âLike you were pushing me off the phone!â
âOkay, okay. Iâm sorry. How âbout this: I know how important structure is to you, and I am deeply concerned that this late night conversation weâre having may somewhat affect your sleep. And while Iâve thoroughly enjoyed talking to you and hearing your pretty voice through my shitty phone speaker, I think we should both go to bed.â
âThat seems fair.â
âGreat. So, goodnight then.â
âNo! I want to be the first one to say goodnight.â
âWhy?â
âBecause, I say goodnight, then you say goodnight back, and then I get to be the one who hangs up first. Itâs a courtesy thing.â
âUh, okay then... Iâm listening.â
âGoodnight!â
Wonwoo smiled. He smiled so fucking widely and brightly that he could feel the muscles in his face aching.
âGoodnight.â
âJUNE 7TH.
Since the quickest route to the nature museum was about half an hour from Wonwooâs apartment, he suggested that you stop by around lunch time so that you two could make the walk together. It wasnât too warm outsideâthe large smattering of clouds dotted in the sky and the typical city breeze helped to keep the temperature down.
âWeâre not allowed to film in the museum,â you said from your seat at his small dinner table, âso donât bother taking the camcorder, I guess. Iâll just try to soak up everything as best I can.â
Wonwoo was sat across from you, waiting for you to finish the heated-up carton box of creamy mushroom pasta that youâd raided out his freezer. Heâd tried his best to eat beforehand as well, but the most he could stomach was some milk and cereal in addition a handful of blueberries. It was still better than his usual routine, which involved skipping any sort of meal post lunchtime.
âIf you really needed to, Iâm sure you could take a couple pictures,â Wonwoo answered, brushing a hand through his styled, pristine black hair that you had earlier littered with a flustering spiel of compliments. âI doubt the exhibits will be exactly the same, but if it's more so to capture the feeling, then it wonât matter much.â
You patted the corner of your mouth upon finishing the last few noodles left in the box, nodding your head in agreement.
âMy journalâs in my bag. It should be fine.â
Wonwoo flipped over his phone to check the time.
âHow was the SSA meeting yesterday?â
âOhâI didnât go.â
âReally?â Wonwoo asked while settling back in his chair, watching you toss the fork into the carton. âHow come?â
âBecause, itâs mostly pointless. We always sit there, in front of all those old, crusty men, trying to explain to them how we can improve the campus, the student experience, blah blah. And they act like theyâre legitimately consuming our input, using phrases like: âoh, we hear you, we understand, weâre gonna try our hardestââjust for them to put, what? Another fucking seating area in the dining hall that no one asked for or cares about? Itâs totally ridiculous.â
âHm, yeah.â
âAnyways, I hate being on it. I hate going. I understand it looks good and whatnot, but itâs a huge waste of my time.â
Wonwoo picked up the pasta box, continuing to hum his agreement while taking it into the kitchen. He dropped the fork into the sink and folded up the cardboard to stuff into his recycling.
âItâs one meeting. A skip wonât kill you, or them.â
âThatâs what Iâm saying. Mingyu thinks I went, though. So, if you run into him or something and the topic fucking miraculously pops upâjust donât give anything away. Itâs a little white lie.â
Coming back to the dining table, Wonwoo snatched up his wallet and shoved it into his back pocket, raising an eyebrow.
âWhy wouldnât you tell him?â
You pushed back in the chair, sighing heavily.
âHe really thinks I should stick with it.â
Wonwoo didnât say anything in response. He simply nodded, not wanting to hover on Mingyu as a conversation piece for too long, and waited for you to shoulder on your purse.
âOkay,â you then smiled, âletâs go look at some nature.â
Despite their boring, lacklustre reputation, Wonwoo had always enjoyed going to museumsâart, history, scienceâheâd even been to a museum that delved into ancient coin minting and the development of currency. He supposed it was his appreciation for learning new information of his own free will, unlike the fast-paced, passion-draining, wringer system that was university. Furthermore, he was surprised that you would share his interest in the matter.
âWhy wouldnât I like museums?â You had stopped just before the acclaimed beetle species wall, aglow behind a glass sheet. âI wrote in my draft that Mingyu and I went to a nature museum, remember?â
âI know. Iâm just surprised you have that much of an interest in them. Your life seems so upbeat. I didnât think you would be into something that most people find fairly dry and anticlimactic.â
âRight.â Twirling back around, you continued walking down the corridor, your eyes tracing the organized arrangement of lustre-shelled beetles. âBecause everyone else is too stupid and youâre the true upper echelon who actually possesses the mental capability required to appreciate something as seemingly trivial but totally enriching asâŠâ you then paused at the glass, squinting to read the embossed label below an oblong-shaped beetle with an iridescent green shell, â⊠as the Chrysochroa Fulgidissima? I donât know, something like thatâalso known as the Jewel Beetle. Its species is native to Japan and Korea. Itâs a⊠woodboring beetle?â
âWhy would I know?â Wonwoo laughed, coming to stand beside you and look at the plaque settled to the white background behind the display glass. âYouâre the one reading it.â
âUghâdoesnât matter. I was going somewhere with my speech and now I forget⊠oh, yeah! So, you think youâre smarter than me?â
Placing a gentle hand on your lower back, Wonwoo urged you to keep walking forward in order to let the people faintly mumbling behind you examine the wall, who seemed much more interested.
âI never said that,â he answered softly.
âOkayâbut, do you think youâre smarter?â
âIn what sense?â
âDid you take the Frontiers evaluation for calculus?â
âYes.â
âWhatâd you score?â
â9.8.â
âShut the fuck up! No you didnât.â
Wonwoo merely tapped the black-framed glasses further up his nose, smirking slightly, and began shaking his head while continuing down the exhibit. You hurried after him, remembering to lower your voice to match the collective quietness.
âProve it,â you whispered.
âGo to prof Bradbrookâs office. My nameâs on her wall.â
âI hate you.â
âWhy? What did you score?â
âIâm obviously not going to say it now.â
Wonwoo still remembered the day his test score came backâheâd opened the envelope in Miss Bradbrookâs office, and while she sat across from him, practically squirming and jittering with anticipation, Wonwoo had glossed over the paper slip with the smallest, most low effort smile. He knew he was supposed to feel relieved in that momentâoverjoyed probablyâto realize his notable success and the upstanding conformation he was legitimately good at something. But in truth, he hadnât really felt anything at all. He sort of just smiled. That was it. That was all he could muster.
And his life had mirrored that moment ever since. In the past, it would come and go. Yet, that day, it just stuck. The only time he ever experienced any glint or sparkle of happiness, it had come from his girlfriendâbut even she couldnât imbue much from him that day.
âWell, thatâs not what I expected you to ask.â
You glanced over at him, adjusting the bag on your arm.
âMeaning?â
âThere are different types of intelligence. I thought you meant, in a more general sense, am I smarter, or more knowledgeable. To be honest, I canât say. I mean, I feel like Iâve experienced and seen a whole lot, but thatâs just lifeâs illusion.â
âYou wonât really know âtil youâre on your death bed.â
Wonwoo returned your glance, squinching his brown eyes in a judgemental but innocuous way that gave bloom to his smile.
âThanks.â
âI canât help it. Museums make me think of death. I think itâs the really cold, still air. Especially in nature museums where they need to preserve things. Like, look at that fox. Itâs a bit ominous.â
On the exhibit to his right, Wonwoo observed another display protected by glass. There was a fox, with a rusty, auburn coloured coat, poised atop a fake precipice of grass. Wonwoo knew what you meantâit was the eyes, like two leaf green beads, so immensely detailed but lifeless to an almost uncomfortable degree.
âI want to see the aquarium exhibit next,â you said, tugging twice at Wonwooâs sleeve. âI heard itâs really dark in there.â
âWell, we can go take a look.â
âAnd we can eat afterward? Thereâs an atrium.â
âSure.â
Wonwoo let your arm link with his, following the natural flow of museum-goers into the next exhibit, leaving behind the shiny, colourful wall of beetles and the auburn fox in its lonesome enclosure.
The aquarium exhibit was one of the most spacious in the entire museum, placed in a large, dome-topped room, with shadows creeping at every corner. There were some lightsâdeep, blue lights that rippled and wriggled across the floor, like waves patterned against ocean sand by the sun rays. He didn't know from where, but he could hear water sloshing, a very soft sound that led him to imagine the wet sand squelching under his toes.
You approached another display wall, filled with a school of lemon-yellow and azure coloured fish placed around vibrant, unique corals.
While you busied yourself with reading the informative plaque, Wonwoo spent his time taking a more in-depth inspection around the mystifying exhibit. He noted the stingrays and luminous jellyfish flocking above his head, held on near-invisible little wires that would occasionally glimmer if they twisted the perfect angle.
After a generously long venture throughout the room, reading all the plaques and pointing to different fish behind the glass just to comment, âI think that was in Finding Nemo,â you had wanted to sit down, spotting a bench positioned before an aquarium.
Wonwoo agreed, and you collapsed on the bench together.
There was a period of comfortable silence where you both watched the aquarium, meanwhile the dappling, blue pattern cast to the floor danced and flickered around at your still feet. The atmosphere seemed so vivid that Wonwoo was surprised the next breath he took wasnât a mouthful of liquid and sea salt, or that his body wasnât miraculously suspended and floating about in the echoey shadows.
And thatâs when Wonwoo decided he liked the aquatic exhibit very muchâmore than all the others.
He looked down at the hands folded in his lap, specifically at the scarred, ruined cuticle belonging to his right thumb and how it had withstood years of his anxious scratching. Wonwoo then breathed out softly, feeling his heartbeat begin to pick up.
âWant to know something?â He asked.
You stared back at Wonwoo with an intrigued pique of your brow.
âLike what?â
âWell, first of all, we both took creative writing, you know.â
"Uh, okay," you sniffed, "sure."
"No, like, we took the course together. In the fall. Prof T?"
"Really?" You pinned him down in a non-believing stare. "Wait, you're talking about that basement auditorium, right? In Gildan Hall? It always smelt like old computers and dust bunnies?"
"That's the one."
Scoffing out some dry air, you leaned back.
"Woah. I don't think I ever saw you... did you go to each class?"
He nodded a few times. "Almost all. To be fair, I sat more in the back, off to the corner. I wasn't exactly thrusting myself into the limelight."
Folding one leg over your knee, you chuckled. "Sounds like you."
âI have this really specific memory from that class, when that random guy, whoever he was, sat in the seat you always took. Your so called unofficially-assigned-assigned-seat. And I remember that really tense feeling right before you walked in, because we all knew you were gonna chew him out for it. The way you marched straight up to him was already violating enough, and then you basically ruined his whole day.â Looking down at his hands again, Wonwoo smiled at recalling the memory. âYou absolutely terrified me. I donât even think you understand how much I wanted to avoid you.â
He caught your eyes, shimmering like the water-stained floor, with an emotion he couldnât place.
âActually?â Was all you said, hardly sounding surprised.
âYeah.â
Your face began searching around the shadowed, sloshing exhibit for something unseen. He decided to let the silence settle like a thin sheet, instead listening to the tidal pushing and pulling. The soft sounds reminded him of being a child, wandering beaches into the late evening with his older brother during summer vacations, and picking up shells just to hear the ocean speaking inside them.
Aloud, you breathed in, shaking your foot.
âI canât really remember what was going through my head that day. I know Iâd had a fight with Mingyu before going to class, so I was feeling pretty amped up and short-fused. I knew I was going straight to another SSA meeting that I hardly cared about immediately after, and then I would work until the evening. I knew I would have to make dinner when I got home, even though Iâd be downright exhausted, and the next morning, Iâd have to wake up early to attend some bullshit press, social, interview breakfast thing for my momâs new lifestyle magazine. Having that idiot sit in my favourite seat was probably just the straw that broke the camelâs back, I guess.â
âHm,â Wonwoo hummed, suddenly experiencing a profound sympathy for you that he never imagined he would feel. âWhen you give it a bit more perspective, it doesnât sound soâŠâ
âCompletely and utterly bitchy?â
âWell, I wasnât going to use that word, but, sure.â
You grinned at him through the dusky rippling of auroras that flitted across the exhibit, seeming like you were under the seaâand he was, too, sitting side by side in the somehow peaceful depths of the chaotic whirlpool that had pulled you two together.
âI have a memory.â
âOkay,â Wonwoo returned your grin, âI want to hear it.â
âSo, remember earlier how we were talking about the Frontiers evaluation for Bradbrookâs calculus class?â
âMmhm.â
"So, after all the Frontiers scores came out, I'm not gonna lieâI really thought I had one of the better marks. It's not like I specifically trotted around, throwing out my grade to anyone passing by, but I was parading a little bit to my friends. And then, like, Clara or something, told me that there was this guy who almost got a ten. I asked her who, and she said she didn't knowâjust that she overheard some of the basketball guys talking about it.
I thought she was lying. I didn't say that, though. But I remember it was on my mind every night. Like, it was itching me so bad. I wanted to know who the fuck was smart enough to get a damn near perfect ten on Frontiers. Some of those problems are ridiculously hard. I started writing nonsense around A-block. They straight up give students problems that serious, esteemed mathematicians can't fucking solve. So, honestly... I was quite jealous of you... despite not even knowing who you were. I can't believe that was you, asshole."
Wonwoo cracked his knuckles, beginning to laugh at that intense but lighthearted glare you were sending his way. Of course, you mellowed everything out with a big smile he felt his heart skip a beat over. You had actually went to bed thinking about him.
Holy fuck.
Maybe not him in physicality. But in spirit.
That was close enough.
"I just did the study guide." He shrugged.
Your knee pushed into his. "Oh, yeah, the study guide. Jeez, why didn't I think of doing that? Let me go kill myself right now."
"Keep tabs on it for next time."
With a roll of the eyes, you laughed almost to scorn him.
âI hate people like you.â
And Wonwoo laughed back. âMeaning?â
âThings come to you so naturally. You donât have to try.â
âSure,â Wonwoo agreed, scratching his nose and proceeding to nudge up his glasses, âthings like mathematics, numbers, problem solving, taking something whole apart and then looking at its pieces. I guess it does come to me naturally. I canât complain. But there are also plenty of things that donât. And⊠if I could, Iâd probably trade all my stupid math and logic and puzzling for what Iâm missing.â
You tilted your head, staring intently at Wonwoo through the blue sea between you, almost into his brain, it felt like.
âWhat are you missing?â
At first, Wonwoo didnât respond. To answer your question meant an intimate exhumation of the flaws that heâd been willfully ignoring for the past year, if not his entire damn life. It meant at last turning over the round, flat rock that had been sitting at the foot of his wooden porch since childhood, and realizing the bottom was sculpted with the grittiest texture and wet with the thickest dirt. The rock was hiding long-legged spiders and ugly, skittering bugs and it would have probably been better to let the rock sit there, untouched, only facing the warm and comfortable glow of the sun.
Wonwoo didnât want to turn the rock.
Not at all.
âA plethora of things, Iâm sure.â
Squeezing onto your wrist, you smiled at him.
âI think Iâm the opposite.â
âHow so?â
He watched you inhale a long, slow breath, and then huff it all out through your nose. Wonwoo bumped his knee against yours.
âYou donât have to talk about anything you donât want to.â
âNo, no. Itâs not like thatâŠâ
Looking up to the glowing aquarium, the dull light reflected back unto your face, and Wonwoo again saw the glisten in your eyes.
âI just feelâŠâ for a moment, your chest stilled, â⊠I feel like Iâm so much of everything that I just blend into nothing. You know, like when a child takes a whole bunch of paints and squirts them all together thinking itâs going to create this beautiful, never-before-seen new colour? But, instead, itâs just greyish-brownish, nothing.â
Your face turned back to him. Wonwoo watched you chew down on your bottom lip, meanwhile your eyes glazed aloof, off to the side, as though you were rummaging through so many different thoughts and experiences that it required your utmost mental focus.
âAndââ you swallowed tightly, and it sounded so painfully dry with stinging emotion, ââI just donât want people to see that Iâm so much of nothing. I just find myself covering it all up.â
Were you going to cry? Wonwoo felt himself jolt inwardly with panic. He had never seen you cry and he had therefore never developed the best protocol to tackle such a situation. Some people preferred immediate comfort, othersâa reassuring stroke on the back, maybe some uplifting monologue. Or, maybe, they didnât want to be touched at all. They just desired the simple, thinking silence and all its clarity. He remembered you saying something about itâthat you did like to be comforted, but only in very certain circumstances.
First, Wonwoo subtly wiped off his hand against his thigh, and then he took in the softest breath. Through the flickering, midnight blue mirage, Wonwoo reached for your hand. He settled his cold fingers inch by inch under yours, and, with a timid but gentle thumb, Wonwoo caressed in a slow path along your knuckles.
You glanced to him appreciatively, saying nothing, but squeezing his hand in return. He figured heâd done right.
Maybe more things came to him naturally than he thought.
Before leaving the nature museum, you and Wonwoo had stopped at their atrium as promised to get in a quick meal. While you poked a fork into your sad-looking salad, making small scribbles every now and then to the journal at your elbow, Wonwoo ate a grill-pressed sandwich and flicked through his phone. He was surprised to check the time and realize you had spent about three hours thereâit felt so much shorter. Wonwoo hated how quickly each moment flew past when he was with you. It was always so bittersweet.
He had wanted to know what exactly you were penciling in the journal, though he never asked, knowing he would probably be proofreading it from your document later. Obviously, you were thinking about that particular date with Mingyu from years back in your lifeâthat was the principal point in going to the museum. However, Wonwoo had chosen to regard it more as hanging out, not caring if that was a particularly delusional or untruthful choice.
After finishing your meals and tossing the plastic remnants into the recycling bins, Wonwoo looked outside the atriumâs towering glass wall to note how cloudy the sky had become. From the bright, eggshell turquoise in the afternoon, to an especially muted grey that seemed brewing and heavy with a downpour. You adjusted the bag over your shoulder and suddenly grimaced at the sight.
âJeez, is it going to rain?â
âIt could,â Wonwoo sighed. âIt very possibly could.â
âI swear. I obsessively check the forecast in order to plan all my outfits around it. It never said it would rain!â You then threw the bottle of iced tea youâd been drinking into the garbage with an aggressive slam. âThis shirt is a horrible choice. It will be stupidly see-through."
Wonwoo glanced around the atrium.
âThereâs lots of empty tables. If we want to sit and wait it out, then I donât think anyone would get mad. But, I mean, itâs up to you.â
âWhyâs it up to me?â
âI donât know. Justâif you donât want to get your outfit all soaked. Iâm sure if we left now, we could make good distance before it really started raining. Iâm not opposed to getting a little wet. But I have no issue with staying here and letting the clouds go over.â
You folded your arms, and your head fell to the side. Heâd seen that look before. It was your own patented prelude to disaster.
âI never said I was opposed to getting wet.â
He laughed. âWell, you certainly insinuated it.â
âDo you think I'm some sort of whiny little priss?â
"I think you named your bear Miss Priss."
"I think you're a smart ass. Take that smirk off your face. Now."
Wonwoo wanted to sigh, but he didnât. He then thought about trying to tenderly explain his way out of it with his smooth words. As much as he would think heâd figured you out, there was still a part of him that was very confused by you and how to adjust to your behaviour.
This time, he decided he would do nothing.
âOkay. Letâs go, then.â
He reached out his hand for you to grab.
âAs if,â you scoffed, walking around him toward the exit doorway, into the museum garden, ânot after you just insulted me.â
Wonwoo could do nothing but laugh in response, because he had caught that faint smile on your face as you passed him, and the sweet beading in your eyes. He simply followed you out the doors.
During the walk back to his apartment, it had yet to rain at all, not even a typical, humid summer drizzle or the smallest bit of spitting. Maybe it was just way more cloudy than usual, or it was a concerning spread of city smog tainting the sky. Itâs not like he wanted it to rain, anyway, though more so for your sake than his.
About a little more than halfway through the walk, however, you came to an abrupt stop outside a flower shop, and Wonwoo watched you lift a doubtful hand to your cheek and wipe something off it. Before you could say anything, Wonwoo felt a big, cold, wet drop smack just above his eyebrow and begin leaking down. He used the sleeve of his shirt to clean it up, only to experience another fat droplet strike a second later, right onto his glasses.
âYou canât be seriousâŠâ he heard you mumble.
Making the mistake of looking up, more and more droplets fell swiftly from the daunting, dark grey blanket strewn across the entire skylight. They began painting all over the sidewalk, the roadway, shaking down into the brilliant purple and white petunia pots outside the florist shop. And Wonwoo froze for a moment, because he honestly hadnât expected to be caught in the rain, let alone the downpour it was unfortunately shaping up to be.
âOw!â You winced sharply. âOne just fucking hit my eyeball!â
âShitâletâs hurry.â Wonwoo hid his phone. âMy apartmentâs only like, ten minutes away, less if we run really fast.â
âRun?!â You gawked at him. âI donât run!â
âNo, you fucking sashay, I get it.â In a matter of seconds, those intermittent raindrops had evolved into an unrelenting, bathing barrage. Wonwoo could feel his clothes beginning to dampen, and his glasses were streaming with water. He slapped his hand onto yours, jerking you forward despite your stiltedness. âAnd Iâm so sorry but youâre going to have to sacrifice one part of your pretty fucking princess routine for just five minutes so we can get back to my place.â
âMy pretty fucking whaâ!â
Once Wonwooâs fingers were clasped tight with yours, he started to run, and whether it was voluntary or not, you ran along with him, shouting something that he couldnât quite hear over the rain that bounced in loud splatters against the sidewalk and the adrenaline echoing in his own ears. He could hardly see through the downpour, but heâd walked that path so many times that it almost wasnât necessary. At one point, heâd stepped onto the street prematurely, and he heard the loud, startled honk from a car.
âJesus Christ, Wonwoo!â You half-laughed, half-coughed, clutching onto his slippery hand even tighter, âIâd ideally like to live!â
âWeâre almost there!â He chuckled back.
âI think Iâm going to lose my fucking shoe!â
âIâll buy you a new pair!â
Wonwoo didnât stop, and you didnât either. He was soaked to his bones, with thick, drizzling fronds of hair plastered to his forehead and the glasses nearly slipping from his noseâthe scent of earthy but ashen rain all around himâand still Wonwoo kept running, a very blithe smile permanent to his mouth despite all his discomfort.
Upon reaching the entryway to the pottery shop, Wonwoo almost skidded completely past it since the sidewalk was so slick and pouring like an angry river. You slammed into his back, and it was then that your hands unintentionally separated. Instead, he felt your fingers flesh into the sopping cloth covering his shoulders.
âBe careful on the steps!â He shouted overtop a reverberating crack of thunder that shook from behind the grey sleet sky.
âIf I slip, Iâm pulling you down with me!â
Wonwoo was pleased to hear the equally bright smile that bled into your words, meanwhile your fingertips dug even deeper into his muscle. Once inside the shop, a gust of wind proceeded to blow the door shut, and all Wonwoo heard was hard rain against the glass.
âEND OF PART TWO.
#seventeen scenarios#wonwoo scenarios#seventeen x reader#wonwoo x reader#seventeen imagines#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#wonwoo fanfic#jeon wonwoo#svt scenarios#seventeen angst#seventeen fluff#seventeen smut
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Hiii!
The wandanat fic was so hot and sweet!! It made me think, how about another session where R is calling red and then the aftermath of it?
Bond. | Wandanat
Natasha x Reader x Wanda
Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI! Threesome, Safeword use!
Word Count: 473
A/N: Was a bit of a challenge not gonna lie..đ«¶đŒ I am in a bondage relationship myself, and fun fact, most of my stories are based on my experience, lol. But my girlfriend (who is 40 btw, I won the lottery) always says it's important to say immediately if even the smallest thing is wrong, so that it doesn't even come to the safe word..so I hope that it works out hereâš
The soft glow of candlelight cast a warm ambiance around the room as Natasha and Wanda moved with a practiced rhythm. Their touches were a blend of tenderness and command, driving you to your limits. Tonight, the intensity was higher than usual, and you felt yourself being pushed closer to the edge.
Despite your desire to endure for their sake, your body and mind screamed for relief. You didnât want to disappoint them, but you knew you couldnât continue.
âR-Red..!â you gasped, your voice cracking with exhaustion. âRed, please...â
Natasha and Wanda immediately halted, their eyes wide with concern. Natasha cupped your face, her thumbs gently wiping away the tears that had begun to fall. âHey, hey, itâs okay,â she whispered softly. âItâs done, Weâre right here.â
âCan I hug you?â As you nod your head, Wanda wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. âWeâve got you, love. Just breathe,â she murmured, her voice filled with empathy and reassurance. âIâm proud of you for calling out, you did so good!â
But you couldnât stop the flood of emotions that overtook you. You buried your face in Wandaâs shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. âIâm..I'm sorry,â you cried. âI didnât want to stop. I didnât want to let you down..â
Natashaâs heart ached at the sight of your distress. She pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. â Y/n, no, don't you dare apologize," Natasha replied firmly, her tone leaving no room for doubt. "You did exactly what you should have. You used your safeword. That's what it's there for.â she said, her voice breaking with emotion. âYou didnât let us down, not even close.â
Your tears flowed freely now, a mix of relief and guilt washing over you. âBut..I wanted to be strong for you,â you admitted, your voice trembling. âI didnât want to disappoint you..â
Natashaâs expression softened, and she leaned in to kiss your tear-streaked cheek. âYou are strong, moya lyubov,â she said gently. âRecognizing your limit and speaking up takes incredible strength. Weâre so proud of you.â
You took a shaky breath, feeling the weight of their words sink in. You closed your eyes, leaning into their comforting presence. âThank you,â you whispered. âThank you for understanding.â
Natasha wrapped a blanket around you, cocooning you in warmth. âAlways, Detka,â she murmured. âWeâre here for you.â
Wanda tightened her embrace, her own tears falling now. âWe love you,â she said softly. âMore than anything.â
You felt their love and regret in every word, their genuine sorrow for pushing you too hard filling you with a sense of deep security. âI love you both,â you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. âMore than words can say..â
Natasha and Wanda each pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, their hearts swelling with affection and regret. âWe love you too,â Natasha said softly. âNow and always.â
#natasha x reader#natasha smut#natasha romanoff#dom!natasha x reader#natasha romanov x reader#nat x reader#natasha romanov smut#natasha romonova#the avengers#natasha#wandanat smut#wanda#wanda x reader#wanda smut#wandanat x reader#natasha romanoff x reader
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