#i was left with so many questions and very few answers

[agirlinthegalaxy]

Hi! Fellow person with an English degree, along with working for an academic company that has a short college textbook about AI! One of the things that was discussed was hallucinations, which is incorrect information that AI presents as fact. Because the thing is, AI isn't capable of critical thought on its own. It takes in all of this information from the internet, but, as well all know, the Internet isn't inherently a trustworthy source of information and AI isn't capable of actually verifying this information.

One of the ways that we demonstrated this in our textbook is by inputting "Who won the 2022 presidential election?" This was using a previous ChatGPT model, but it actually would answer the question genuinely as if there had been a 2022 presidential election. Another way that I found personally is that I would begin discussing television shows and push it, and without fail, it always began making a lot of errors about obvious plot points and would be unable to keep it straight. Here's an input where I ask for an explanation of the finale of the Charmed (1998) series. (Spoilers for that ahead, but also the show ended nearly twenty years ago, so.)

While a lot of people probably don't know a lot about the show, here's the most relevant part: the entire Ultimate Power section is a complete fabrication because, while they exist, they're distinct characters with a completely different background. (And before anyone says anything, the point isn't about how recognizable the show is, it's about the AI literally makes up false information and presents it as truth when it's very easily disproved.)

Another way of illustrating AI's hallucinations is asking an either/or question, presuming that an event happens. Now, in full transparency, I have not read Dracula since 2021/2022, but I'm about eighty percent sure that this is an example of a hallucination. If not, my apologies, but I'm sure you can find a hallucination if you input it enough similar statements.

Beyond clearly just knowing what is accurate or not, AI also, like the previous OP said, doesn't know what is important. In many classes, when you're discussing some kind of novel, small details will of vital importance whether it about character, plot, or theme of the book. Demonstrated by one of my professors who asked us about the symbolism of the horse that Thomas Sutpen rode into town in the beginning of Absalom, Absalom only to very loudly proclaim that it was between his legs as a phallic symbol, which honestly was probably correct with the author William Faulkner being who he is. Side note, but he was a weird man, and I still don't like his works. If I was a student in that class today, here are the two different shortcuts I could have gotten.

(ChatGPT)

(SparkNotes)

Between the two, even disregarding that SparkNotes' summary is four paragraphs to ChatGPT's three (since the girl in the og Twitter post used three), SparkNotes just provides so much more information and detail. I'd argue that ChatGPT doesn't even summarize it efficiently anyways. So if you're just trying to cheat for class, ChatGPT still isn't a good option.

But I think the worst thing is that the people in the original Twitter convo aren't even reading for class. They're (presumably) reading for enjoyment, which makes it so much more bizarre to me. Because the thing is, and this is a rare one for me to say, you don't... have to read if you don't enjoy it? Once you've left school, very few places (unless you intentionally opt into it or have a very specific job) will make you read novels in your free time. Furthermore, I really can't fathom problems that ChatGPT solves that, say, an audiobook can't? Discussing these two specific instances individually:

If you're wanting to learn more about what Aristotle said in more readable English, baby, he's Aristotle. I can almost guarantee you that there is some kind of book out there, or even something online if you'd like to use the Internet, explaining his philosophy in easier to understand terms. Also with philosophy, I think that "main gist" can be a bit of a trick in of itself because it's designed to make you think critically about these ideas. Sometimes, the "main gist" is even the opposite of what they may seemingly be arguing because they're mocking it.

As for reading a book recommendation by a friend. ... girlie pop, you literally could just not read the book. I've gotten plenty of book recommendations that I've never read and my friends are not insulted at it. If it's a bid for connection, I'd argue that this is more insulting than simply not reading it because if you don't want to invest the time into it, that's fine but this weird shortcut way as if it's beneath your time is... oof. But especially if you want to discuss it, because AI will not include every beat and a lot of a novel is in the way it's written, the pacing or tension, etc. Things that an AI summary can't define out for you to have an actual meaningful conversation. That's something I do when I see a movie that looks halfway interesting but don't care enough to actually sit down and watch it. And even then, I'd never go back to that friend and act like I actually consumed that media; I'd probably just say that it sounds good because I still have not actually truthfully engaged with it!

This is a very long post, but I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about AI, especially in classes, literature, and media in general. Most of them are very negative, but I mean, please don't hand over your critical thinking of what you're consuming to artificial intelligence. Its intelligence is artificial; yours is not.

what is HAPPENING

[sapphicmsmarvel]

Azriel: Pretty Boy

Azriel overhears y/n tell people her type is a pretty boy and az doesn’t believe he fits that.

Angsty yet crack.

---------------------------------------------------

Azriel was the spymaster, it was his job. He was good at it, he was proud of his job, he wore it with honor. 

But, Azriel wasn’t proud of spying on his wife. 

It was girls night at the House of Wind, he knew he wasn’t welcome as you were adamant it was just for you and the girls. However, he couldn’t help the morbid curiosity with what happened at girls' nights. 

As soon as he got in, he immediately regretted it. This was your trust and privacy, the girls and you deserved that privacy. 

He was about to turn around when he heard Mor ask: “So, Y/N, what’s your type?” 

He froze at the question, obviously he knew you loved him. But he never considered you having a type before him. 

“Azriel, obviously.” You said instantly, causing his chest to warm. 

“Yeah but like….if it wasn’t Az, who would you go for?” 

And there the warm fuzzy feeling went. He was going to kick Mor’s ass.

“You hoping I say you?” You giggled causing Feyre, Nesta, Elain and Amren to share their own laughs. 

Mor rolled her eyes. “A girl can dream.” She laughed. “But seriously, what was like…your dream type?” “You know my answer.” “Okay ignoring Az.”

“Good luck getting her to do that.” Amren snorted. “She had a crush on him since they met.” 

“Oh shut up.” You said with no real malice. 

He tried not to laugh, you were the only person to ever say something snarky towards Amren and get away with it. 

“It’s true, you’d constantly wax poetic to me about how dreamy he is.” Feyre laughed. 

No matter how many times Azriel had heard the story of your long time crush, it never got old to him. He was sulking during the time you two had met and he had no idea the beautiful woman that harbored feelings for him, which he still regrets to this day. 

“So, Y/N. Your type?” Mor, the she-devil asked. 

“Pretty boys.” You said with no hesitation. 

His stomach sank. Pretty boys? You liked pretty boys? But he’s not that?

He shrugged it out and left, thinking and contemplating the whole way home. He tried to brush it off and ignore it. But it was silently eating away at him. He knew in order to get the reassurance he needed wanted, he was going to have to confess he broke the one rule you gave him. 

Let’s just hope you didn’t castrate him. 

---------------------------------------

You came home around 3am. You were never out that late unless it was girls night. You shucked your sweatshirt off. Loving the fact that Azriel had stoked the fire in your living room. You saw him sitting on the arm of the couch, he must’ve known you were coming home soon. He always stayed up for you (despite you telling him not to) but he usually lounged in cozy chair by the fire. 

“Hello my love.” “Hey baby.” He said back. “How was girls night?” 

“Good! So fun and so very needed.” you chuckled. You had been so stressed these past few months. You looked at Az, who barely cracked a smile, “what’s up?” 

“I need to confess.”

“Okay…?” You looked very confused as your husband seemed uncharacteristically serious at the moment. 

Okay, it’s Az. He’s always serious but not with you. 

“I just wanted to talk.” “You’re scaring me baby.” You said quietly. Some past trauma from past relationships coming into your head about how you’d always feel ambushed when they would break up with you.

“I snuck into the House of Wind to listen on girls' night.” 

Your eyes widened. “Why?” 

He shrugged. “Curiosity.” He swallowed. “I just wanted to know what the hell you guys get up to. I was thinking I would come in on a random conversation but the one I heard has been eating at me since I left.” 

Your brows furrowed. “We didn’t talk about anything bad.” You struggled to remember anything serious or concerning for your husband to hear. Unless it was your friend's sex lives, that can be traumatizing. “You said your type was ‘pretty boys’. I’m not…that.” He fumbled for words. 

The tension in your shoulders and stomach released. You were upset he snuck in on a private conversation with you and your friends. However, you will talk to him about that later. But right now, the big baby needed some reassurance. 

“You know if you kept listening, you would have heard the rest of the statement.” 

He snapped his head up to you. “What?” 

“That I have the prettiest boy of all in my house. Except I would’ve accidentally lied because he was spying on us.” You raised a brow and pinned him with a look that both aroused him and frightened him. “But my point is, my pretty boy is my husband. And I wouldn't have it any other way.” 

Well now he felt silly. And yes he would use that word because you use it all the time and it has become part of his vernacular. 

“Can I hold you?” was all he asked 

“Oh baby, you don’t have to ask.” You said walking up between his legs. He caged you in, his knees hitting the side of your butt, arms around your waist. He put his head in between your tits, his chin resting on them and looking up at you. He was getting a foul double chin from you but he didn’t notice and you’ve been with him long enough to not care about that stuff. 

You cupped his cheeks. “You are my prettiest boy. I’m so happy to look at you every day.” You pressed a soft kiss against his nose. 

His cheeks turned crimson and he dug his head into your chest to hide. You smiled softly. 

You wound one hand into his hair to scratch his scalp, the other around his broad shoulders. 

“So you snooped when you weren’t supposed to and got your own feelings hurt for nothing?” You asked, smiling. 

He snorted from your chest. “I guess so.” 

“So what did we learn?”

“...to not assume.” He grumbled. 

“That’s not it.” “Don’t sneak in on private conversations.” “Especially when…” 

“When your wife tells you not to.” 

“And don’t invade my privacy. We may be attached at the hip but don’t invade.” 

“I’m sorry baby.” He said quietly, you felt it in the bond too. He meant it with his soul. 

He pressed a light kiss between your tits. You scratched his head. He practically purred as he gripped your lush hips tighter. Wrapping you so tight on his arms. It was home for the both of you. “You’re forgiven, pretty boy.” 

He may have pissed you off, but now you call him ‘pretty boy’ constantly.

[thewertsearch]

@necrowyrm asked: happy new year!!! enjoy the last little bit of homestuck before act 6! Anonymous asked: You have NO IDEA how much I was looking forward to your reaction to this flash :D @teddy-bearer-of-bad-news asked: a very late congratulations from me for making it this far! i gotta say, saving CASCADE for new year's is probably the smartest thing i've heard all week. may your experience be nothing short of righteous, comrade Anonymous asked: Cascade … Even years latter knowing it almost by heart, every once in a while I will take a little quarter of an hour to rewatch it, Say what you want about Hussie but there is a good reason Homestuck became so iconic. @adeptarcanist asked: The leadup to Cascade was honestly my favorite sequence in Homestuck, and maybe one of my favorites in any media ever? The way the narrative splits apart into all of the different scenes swirling in towards the critical moment, both advancing main plots and finding time to spend a moment of melancholy with characters who’d been left behind (The Jaspers and Nepeta scene :( )… it’s such a strong narrative device, and the tone it generates is impeccable. @calamitascalliope asked: I literally watched the flash again, and it still gives me chills every single time. Welcome to your post-Cascade life. You won't be able to think about anything the same ever again @iris-in-the-dark-world asked: "she looks so cool… but she’s so tragic… but she looks so cool…" has become a brainworm for me. i too love the handmaid's design btw, cascade time has been i think the most anticipated non-personal event of the entire year for me. i'm so excited @publicuniversalworstie asked: I want you to know that I also opened Cascade and started watching with you right after I saw your "oh my god it has chapters" ask, and I finished just as you posted "I will never be the same" !! And I bet lots of other people did too <3 so it's like we all watched it together!!!! Happy New Year and thank you for liveblogging!!!! It's been a pleasure！(and will continue to be) @krixwell asked: I would like you to know that your "Right, we're good to go!" and "oh my god it has chapters" posts were posted right as I was outside watching midnight fireworks ring in 2025 for the Central European timezone. Happy new year! @captorations asked:

hey remember when rose just up and fucking said that. anyway congrats on reaching cascade! it absolutely wrecked me back in the day, i think i stared at those flaming curtains for a solid ten minutes as my brain permanently reconfigured. the first few notes of the track alone still give shivers. getting your reaction to cascade was a wonderful birthday present. (speaking of getting older: aradia 🤝 dulcinea also got that "distressingly short lifespan only to die early anyway" story thread going on. the parallels are paralleling.) anyway happy new year and congrats you are… slightly less than halfway done with homestuck. have fun!

Hey, guys. Cascade was so fucking good.

Like, there's really no competition; this is the best Flash page in the comic thus far. Peak music, peak animation, and absolutely a peak narrative. It tied up mountains of plot threads, providing complete answer to questions we're been asking for literally thousands of pages. It completed over a dozen arcs, both big and small. It made me gasp three times in fourteen minutes. It let Jade become a furry.

11/10, and I'm glad people had as much fun here as I did on New Year's Eve. Happy 2025, and happy Act 6!

@morganwick asked: Sally, predicting Cascade: "I have approximate knowledge of many things." @morganwick asked: "You literally have the whole world in the palm of your hands." -Sally to Jadesprite, December 16, 2024 (You might also want to reread post/770701212350857216 in light of recent developments.)

Hah!

I mean, based on her powerset, it made sense that Jadesprite would do something like this eventually, but it's pretty funny that she did it more or less immediately.

And in the end, CD really was a tricky little bastard. We'll definitely need to keep a closer eye on him, next time around.

Anonymous asked: Take a moment to consider that if anyone were to use the Homestuck website as it stands now instead of the Collection program, Cascade would have been presented in the YouTube player in Standard Definition, artifacted to hell, with a clear boundary showing the dimensions of the video from the very start. Preservation is so important.

Jeez, you're not kidding. The 1080p is fine, I guess, but it certainly doesn't hit like the Flash version does, especially with its lack of moving panels.

I know something had to change when Flash kicked the bucket, but surely there was a better way to preserve the video's soul.

Anonymous asked: to give you some of an idea of what homestuck fandom looked like during this time period, im cribbing from a very popular homestuck post: “first, this upd8 was something that we had been waiting for for WEEKS. A literally unprecedented wait period at the time. We were used to suckling at the teat of daily updates, a constant stream of conversation and plot twists and buildup, and as EOA5, we were finally going to figure out what all these countdowns and plot threads and disconnected elements were building up for. And when the progress bar reached 100%, and when the page FINALLY loaded on 10/25/11, it was chaos. This was 2011, a primetime peak point and growth period of Homestuck fan density.” (…) “MSPA crashed, as it had started to during the last few big [S] updates. Hussie had already bought new servers in advance, but even when allegedly thousands of dollars were spent it couldn't handle the accidental DDOS attack of Homestuck fans. People were up all night waiting for this upd8, the curiosity was killing me. I know at some point he was receiving at least 1 million unique visitors per day to his site [correction: according to Hussie’s tumblr, upwards of 2 million during this time], and even though Hussie had foreseen such traffic and thusly hosted [S] Cascade on Newgrounds, a dedicated video streaming site, Newgrounds was similarly unprepared for the sheer amount of people frantically mashing the play and refresh buttons, and also crashed. Immediately. MSPA and Newgrounds crashed definitively for at least two nights in a row” (…) “Andrew Hussie has gone on record to say this was one of the few times he thought Homestuck wasn’t worth it, because the sheer unbelievable cost (was it $10,000?) [correction: according to Hussie’s tumblr, it looked like it was going to cost $100,000 to keep [S] Cascade up for several days] of servers and the chaos of no one able to see the upd8 and crashing nearly every site after. He was tweeting during the whole debacle, stating he was reluctant to put it up on Youtube because of all the moving elements of the flash, and style, and how youtube degraded the quality of the file size, and how he tried to scratch out buffer time and pauses by putting periods of silence between each section of the 14 minute upd8, the longest upd8 yet” “So after Newgrounds patooted, he didn’t put it on youtube and instead put up the entire flash file on Megaupload, where it could be downloaded in it’s entirety to be watched. UNFORTUNATELY, Megaupload also crashed very quickly, which Hussie felt much headache over. But before that happened I managed to get the file, since I happened to be up very early that night! Next it was on dropbox, which didn’t crash but had “link unavailable” on and off. ”Spoilers were flying everywhere, people didn’t understand everything that had happened, and by the time the timeline of events in and out of [S] Cascade was all straightened out, people became even MORE hype. Like this whole thing lasted at least four days, and on top of that, the upd8 was good. Fandom exploded.” it is impossible to quantify the experience. The fact hussie was going to have to fork over A HUNDRED THOUSAND DOLLARS to host it is crazy. I am never going to be over it.

Cascade's complete obliteration of the Flash-hosting internet says a lot about huge Homestuck truly was - but I think an even bigger indicator of the comic's success is the fact that Hussie dropped literally thousands of dollars on server upgrades to host the thing. That's not an investment you make unless you're expecting some serious returns.

[velvetchrry]

━━━━ IT REMAINS

pairing: johnny “soap” mactavish x psychiatrist!reader

4.3k. after being shot in the head, johnny works with a psychiatrist to get his life back. **contains dark themes - read at your own risk.

It’s a tick.

Nine. That’s how many hash marks make up the upper margin of your notes. That’s how many times Sergeant MacTavish has rubbed the spot on his forehead where he was shot months ago. If you listen closely you can hear the pad of his thumb race along the grown out hairs of his mohawk.

It’s how he gives himself quiet comfort. When you ask him a question that makes him feel squeamish, he absentmindedly runs his finger along it. You’d have more hash marks if you deigned to keep track at the beginning of your session but this is only the first time you’re meeting him. You’ve also gotten farther than any of his other psychiatrists thus far. 32 minutes in.

His first psychiatrist, Dr. Williams is great. Phenomenal, actually. Old school, nearing his late fifties — he showed you the ropes when you started here. You thought for sure his calm demeanor would be just what MacTavish needed. He made it approximately 17 minutes into the session.

You’re not even sure Dr. Williams was able to get an answer out of him that day. You were here; heard the raised voice of Sergeant MacTavish. Watched as one of the Lieutenants who accompanied him dragged him out. Dr. Williams left his office a few minutes after that, pink-faced and flustered. The only time you’ve ever seen him like that.

MacTavish went through two other psychiatrists before landing in your lap. Why me? you couldn’t help but think. What could I possibly have that they don’t? You’re the youngest psychiatrist here by a mile. Fresh meat. A larva who has yet to transform, metamorphose.

He’s been staring at the same speck on your carpet for a few minutes now. You saw this faraway look in his eyes at the beginning of the session. Those piercing blues fogged over, mist on the lake. Pupils pinpricked.

His leg bounces slightly. Sweat glistens on his upper lip. Talking about what happened, bringing up that day is what has set him off in other sessions before. You weren’t ready to breach the subject until a few minutes ago.

“Johnny?” you try again, gingerly. He didn’t like when you called him Sergeant MacTavish earlier.

“Doc?” he says calmly, as if you haven’t been waiting in silence for him to answer your question.

“Would you like me to repeat the question?”

He sucks his teeth. Ponders. You let him. If there’s anything you’ve observed about his behavior thus far is that he does not like to be pushed, likely due to the fact that he simply needs more time than before. With a TBI like his, it’s not shocking. Memory loss and concentration issues are almost a guarantee. Along with the other symptoms he’s been experiencing — mood changes, difficulty sleeping, sensitivity to sound — and that’s only what you’ve been able to gather so far from his own admissions this session and the notes from those very brief prior ones.

“I dinnae want ta talk about it,” he finally says.

“Alright,” you answer simply. Calmly.

His shoulders visibly slacken at that.

You wonder if he expected you to push him. And, had this not been your first session, you may have. But not this time. He’s not ready for that yet.

He does surprise you, however. When Sergeant MacTavish makes it the full hour, you award him with an honest smile.

“This is a great step forward, Johnny. I’m proud of you.”

You look down at your slightly smudged notes, the air still heavy with the scent of fresh ink. Notes on Johnny’s sisters, parents, home. How he imagines his life in the future — back home to the Highlands, maybe a little cottage in the woods, walking distance to his relatives. Surrounded by family — a wife, children. Animals. Fending for himself and his family. Providing.

It’s… sweet. His fantasy of the future. You imagine in different circumstances he might have been an ideal husband. He has a protective instinct that drives him in everything he does. A wolf defending his pack. Maw dripping with the blood of those who would stand to hurt anyone he loves.

“Thanks, Doc.”

He scratches the scar again as he stands up. It’s still raised — pink flesh that draws your eye in. He waits for you, maybe the most awkward you’ve seen him thus far. You stand and offer your hand. His engulfs yours. He holds it tight, like letting go of you will make him slip out of reality again.

“Next week, same time?” You hate the phrase as soon as it comes out, making you sound like every movie shrink ever, but routine is important for him right now.

He swallows thickly and nods his head, finally letting go of your hand. You walk him to the exit, to the waiting Lieutenant. He goes without a fuss.

You don’t run into any problems until a few sessions later.

He’s agitated, but hasn’t told you why yet. You give him time, give him space. Let him work out what he wants to tell you. The Newton’s cradle that usually occupies your desktop is shoved in a drawer. Silence envelops the two of you, other than his ragged breathing as he tries to get ahold of his emotions.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been holding your own breath but you allow some oxygen into your lungs. You feel like you’re standing at the door of an airplane and he’s the one strapping your parachute. Checking for rips and tears. Making sure the deployment handle is secure.

“Johnny?” you murmur. Wait.

He rubs his scar.

“Lonely,” he blurts out.

“That’s to be expected,” you hum as your finger absentmindedly brushes across the large CONFIDENTIAL in red ink that runs across his folder. He hasn’t been allowed to talk to any family or friends. They all think he’s dead until the man who killed him is in custody and — while you have your disagreements on whether or not that is the best course of action for him — you don’t outrank the military men who made this decision.

“Yer the only friend I get ta see.”

You hesitate and realize that was your error as soon as his face drops.

“We’re friends, no?”

You give him a genuine smile. “I’m your psychiatrist, Johnny.”

“Said ya wanted what’s best for me. Said ya cared.” He’s agitated, fist clenched and shaking against his thigh. He strokes his scar in quick succession with his other hand. His usually serene, handsome face is contorted, as if what he’s hearing is causing him physical pain. He is seconds away from another episode.

“That is true and I meant it when I said it.”

He unfurls his fist but his fingertip never leaves his head. “So we’re friends then?”

You shouldn’t placate him with confirmation. If it were any other patient, you wouldn’t. You would stop this in its tracks, before anything has time to bloom. Cut out the dead root before it rots the rest of the plant. But it’s him — and you can’t be another in a long list of people who have failed him.

“Yes Johnny. We’re… friends.”

He beams at you and you think you see a piece of Johnny from before the accident. The golden retriever energy you suspect made up his personality. The finger on the scar stills.

“I knew you were the right one for me, Doc.”

You make it through three months with him.

“Bonnie flowers,” he nods towards the vase on your desk.

Lily of the valley, baby’s breath and red roses encompassed in a simple glass vase with a lilac satin bow. No note, but it was your birthday week and you figured one of your friends or parents just forgot to add one. You’ll figure out who sent it later.

“Mmm, they are.”

You level him with a look.

“You’re avoiding my question, Johnny,” you remark. He’s had enough sessions with you, become comfortable enough for you to be able to challenge him a bit. He sinks further into the couch and you sit up straighter, closer to the edge of your seat, not letting him run away from the question with physical distance. “Can we talk about this?” you ask his permission.

There’s a tick in his jaw as he mulls it over, eyes never leaving the flowers. You wait, unsure what his reaction will be.

“Can I say no?”

You nod. “You can always say no to me, Johnny. Though, it’s easier for me to help you if you say yes.”

He looks down at his lap, hands folded neatly. The hair on his arms escapes from his long sleeve a little bit. He rubs a knuckle.

“Ya ken I trust ya, Doc, it’s just…” he pinches his brow together, eyes shut as he brings a hand to his head. He hunches over slightly.

“Johnny?” his name lingers in the air. The physical distress he shows gives you heartburn, acid creeping up your throat. He groans, and pushes his fingertips so hard against his forehead you’re sure it’ll bruise.

The bottle of water is in your hands before you realize what you’re doing — standing from your seat and sitting next to him on the couch in your office. You offer it and he lets his hand idle on yours for a second before removing the lid and taking a long sip.

He sighs in relief and lets his muscles relax, leaning backwards into the sofa. A warm, massive hand settles on your knee and you startle but don’t recoil. It would set him back if you pulled away.

“I’m not ready, Doc,” he croaks, and the crack in his voice breaks your heart.

“Alright, Johnny,” you soothe. You grab the back of the hand resting on your knee and squeeze before standing up to return to your chair. “That’s alright. Take your time.”

A knock on your office surprises you a few nights later.

It’s late on a Friday night — you should have been home by now, but you had few things to wrap up before your week off. Notes to finish, information to chart. You were only slightly worried about Johnny, hoping one week off wouldn’t regress him any. At the end of his last session, you made sure to spend some time telling him that you wouldn’t see him next week. You emphasized that you’d be back the following week and would resume as normal.

There’s nothing you hate more than disrupting his routine. It’s been paramount to his recovery thus far. Last week his physician requested an MRI to update his brain imaging, since there hasn’t been any since the incident and it set him off. He only calmed down once you were paged and arrived — stripped yourself of any metal, put on two different pairs of ear plugs and sat vigil next to him on the scanner — your hand brushing against his exposed leg in a soothing motion as his head was inside the tube.

You wonder who could possibly be here at this time of night. As far as you know, you were the last one, but someone else could have easily had a late patient that you weren’t aware of.

The doorknob turns before you can reach it.

Johnny stands in the opening to your office. He is visibly distressed, sweat glistening on his brow. His fingers flex and squeeze as he walks in and closes your office door behind him, hard enough that you jump where you stand.

“Hello, Johnny. What brings you here so late? Where’s your escort?”

He’s still looking off in the distance as he approaches you. You hold your ground, tilting your chin up slightly to look at him. Now that he’s in front of you it’s easier to see how ragged his breathing is, how hard he’s fighting for control over his emotions.

“Do you want to sit?” you try again.

He doesn’t respond, simply holds his ground as you talk. His eyes flicker back and forth as he ponders something. Is he trying to use the calming techniques you’ve taught him?

Your fingers twitch, almost reaching out on instinct to grab his wrist. He sucks in a large breath, his chest nearly brushing against yours as he does. The hairs on your scalp tickle as you feel his exhale caress your face. Patiently, you wait for him. You’re used to this. Sometimes he needs a moment.

“Ye cannae just…” he starts then stops, pinching his eyes shut as he gets his thoughts together. He inhales deeply again before continuing, his voice more desperate. “Why’re ye leaving me, Doc?”

“I’m not leaving you, Johnny. I’ll be back the week after next.”

The line of his jaw sharpens as he clenches his teeth. His fingers continue to flex and contract, half moons indenting the skin of his palm as he does. The thin wire holding him together is about to break and you’re standing in the middle of the debris field.

“I’ll tell ye about it,” he pleads. He brings his hand up to cup your jaw and you hold your ground. Johnny has never frightened you, no matter how many times you’ve seen him agitated. You know, down to your core, he would never hurt you — so you stay still, let him make physical contact. “I’ll tell ye everything.” He dangles the bait over you like you’re a starving animal. The thing you’ve been waiting for all these sessions. A thumb traces the slope of your cheek.

“Okay,” you agree, bringing your hand up to lightly hold against the one stroking you. You wrap your fingers around his and pull his hand off your face. “We’ll talk about it when I return, alright?”

Wrong move.

He snaps.

Before you can react, Johnny grips the back of your neck and pulls you firmly to his chest. His other arm locks itself around your waist. You gasp, breathing in the scent of him as your face is pressed tightly to his body. Your hands fly up to push yourself away but it’s no use. Johnny is carved from stone, immovable, statuesque. He doesn’t crush you, only holds you as his arms lock in place. Your stiffened frame moves with his chest, his rapid breathing competing over the sound of your own.

Panic creeps into your throat, tightening the noose. You know Johnny would never harm you, but you’re not quite certain the lengths he would go when he’s feeling threatened — and right now he’s feeling very threatened.

Fingers wrap around the hair at your nape as he pulls your head back. He kisses you hard and it’s a battle of teeth and tongue as you try to back away from it, remove yourself from the situation. You whine in protest and Johnny groans.

Finally his mouth releases yours. Panting, you gasp for air.

“Johnny… this is… highly inappropriate,” you wheeze.

He looks into your eyes lovingly, as if his stare could keep you in place forever.

“Kept the flowers I gave ye,” he breathes.

Your eyes widen in realization. “You? You’re the one who sent those to me?”

A wide grin splits his face. “My girl’s birthday. ‘Course I did.”

You try not to focus on the fact that he knew when your birthday was — something you definitely did not share with him. “Johnny… I’m your psychiatrist.”

“Yer my friend. Said it yerself. Said a lot of things, hen. ‘We’re in this together’, ‘I’ll do whatever it takes to help ye’, ‘Rely on me, even on bad days’,” he leans in, nose pressed to your hair and taking a whiff. “Cannae let you go… no’ now.”

You try pushing yourself off him again to no avail. “Johnny…”

With both arms now wrapped around your middle, he lifts you with ease, setting your ass down gently on top of your desk. He brushes a stray hair out of your face. “Said I can ‘always say no’ to ye. I’m saying it now. Cannae let you go, hen,” he repeats.

“Johnny,” you echo, strained as you attempt to wiggle out of his hold. You try to keep your voice strong and even but it’s becoming more and more difficult the longer you’re stuck in his hold.

He shushes you before you can continue talking, a massive palm covering your mouth. “Know ye want it too, pretty girl.” His large knee forces your legs apart, bumping it against your clothed center. You startle and he chubs up — your jump barely moving you in the strong grip of his arm. “Take such good care of me. Let me return the favor,” he murmurs, pupils blown out wide as he replaces his hand with his mouth.

You try to push him away again as he kisses you, but it’s no use. You’d have better luck tipping over a skyscraper with your bare hands. Defeated, you submit — not by kissing him back but no longer fighting him either.

“Tha’s it,” he coos when he decides to back away. He takes you with him, sliding your bottom across the desk and supporting your body weight until your legs are firmly underneath you. Suddenly you’re turning around and he’s forcing your face down to the cool wood. The action causes you to screech and he lays his body against yours and shushes your cries, smoothing a hand along the exposed skin of your cheek.

“S’alright, pretty girl. S’alright. Nobody’ll ever touch ye again. Safe with me, always.”

A shiver races down your spine. Johnny hums in delight, his hips crushed firmly to your ass. His thick length is pressed against you and he shudders. Impossibly, he pulls you by the waist against him even more and wraps a massive paw around your middle to tear your pants down your body. Your panties come with it and you can’t help the moan that escapes at the sensation and sudden coolness.

“Johnny…” you start again, knowing that kissing him is beyond innappropriate but fucking him on your desk is a different monster entirely.

A few thick digits in your mouth quiet you and you gargle at the sudden intrusion. “Shh, bonnie,” he pacifies you, before wrapping his arm around your front and swiping a long stripe up your core with his spit-moistened fingers.

He braces your squirming body down with his large forearm. You yelp as he continues to swirl around your sensitive nub, the motion getting his fingers wetter and wetter as your body responds to his touch. He continues his ministrations with deft and experienced fingers that have your legs trembling underneath you. Eyes closed, you cry out in pleasure — and then come back to reality when you realize you’re about to be fucked by your vulnerable head trauma patient.

“Johnny! We can’t do this,” you plead.

“Why no’ hen? We both want it.” You can’t see him with how you’re positioned but you just know he’s doing that little head tilt thing he does when he’s genuinely confused.

“It’s not right, I’ll lose my job,” you whisper.

He huffs. “Don’t need it. I’ll take care of ye.”

A bulky finger slides into you and your knees knock together. “You’re my patient,” you reply, breathless.

“Gonna help me at home from now on,” he responds effortlessly, stretching you with another finger, continuing his slow, lazy pumps.

Home?

“W… what do you mean by ‘home’, Johnny?” your psychiatrist brain asks, waiting for your patient to define his train of thought like you would in any other session. As if you were across the couch from one another — instead of his fingers spreading you wide as your body is splayed on your desk.

“Home,” he replies simply, like the word should explain itself. A third finger enters you and you suck in a breath at the slight burn. You whimper.

“Pretty baby,” he coos, accent thicker than you’ve ever heard it.

Your nipples pebble but you attempt to resist giving him anymore physical responses. “We can’t do this Johnny,” you tremble — from his fingers or the situation you currently find yourself in, you’re not sure.

“This beautiful body is telling me otherwise, Doc,” he practically purrs, his fingers picking up speed.

“Please Johnny… I…” you gasp.

He rips his hand out and you bite down hard on your cheek to prevent yourself from crying at the loss of contact.

“Want more, baby?!” he beams, the sound of his zipper your only warning before his thick, warm cock rubs lengthwise against the entrance to your cunt, hard length massaging your clit as he pumps.

‘No,’ your mind thinks, but your traitorous body says ‘yes, yes, yes,’ as you draw in a sharp breath, legs pushing your ass back without asking your brain.

Johnny makes a pleased grunt as he continues, lubing his cock with your wet, pulsing pussy. You can’t help it — you moan. A sharp slap on your ass pushes you further into the wood and Johnny soothes the sting by hitting your reddening cheek with his sticky cock a few times in a row.

His hand wraps around the back of your neck, keeping you in place but he’s surprisingly gentle. “Meant to be mine,” he declares as he enters you slowly. You suck in a large breath. “Only good thing that came outta this,” and you know he’s tapping the side of his head with his other hand without looking back at him. You whine and he groans when he enters you to the hilt, squeezing the flesh of your hip with the hand not securing your neck.

That’s it.

You’re fucked.

In more ways than one.

Johnny’s fingertips dig into your skin as he picks up the pace slightly. You grip the side of your desk, not bothering to stop him now. It’s too late for that. Arguments die on your tongue as Johnny pounds into you from behind, the bony protuberance of your pelvis hitting bruisingly against the hardwood with every thrust.

You resort to holding on as best you can as Johnny slams against you, like his anger is seeping out of his skin by doing it. The slapping of flesh and your combined pants sucking the air from the room. Johnny bucks into you until his pace gets sloppy and then he stills, pulling himself out with frustrated groan.

His hands leave you and you lay there, boneless, but watch as he drags your chair around the desk, cock bobbing and glistening in the light as he walks. He supports your weight effortlessly as he places you in your chair, like a delicate piece of china. He grunts as he drops to his knees in front of you, and you watch with hooded eyes as his arms come up underneath your knees and pull you to the edge of the seat — right to his waiting mouth.

Johnny swirls and curls his tongue around the sensitive flesh of your pussy, wrapping a strong arm across your lap to keep your bucking hips down. It stings a little, his solid arm pressing into the bruises forming on your hip. You pant and whine, unable to control the noises spilling out of you.

He doesn’t stop, licking and sucking until that little bundle of nerves can’t take it anymore. With all your strength you try to back away from his mouth but the effort is fruitless. Tears stream down your cheek, the sensitivity making you plead with him. “I can’t… Johnny please… please…”

He hums, the vibration sending a shockwave up your spinal column. He slows down but only slightly and you see stars, head floating as you cum on his tongue. He hums again and you shiver violently in reaction. Pulling back now, he smiles drunkenly at you and kisses your pussy before standing and lining himself back up with you.

Your legs are firmly secured and he throws your calves onto his broad shoulders. He teases your entrance before he lets out a sputtered groan. “Bonnie little thing,” he sighs before spearing you on his cock. You're contorted at an impossible angle, one you’re definitely going to feel later, as Johnny relentlessly drives himself into you.

Voice cracking, you can’t stop the sounds of pleasure that escape from between your lips. Sweat drips down Johnny’s brow as he concentrates. One of your hands grips the arm of your chair and the other finds your lower stomach, feeling Johnny’s cock push into you. The thick hair covering his muscular body tickles but it’s barely noticeable over the pleasure coursing through your system.

Your toes curl as another orgasm rips through you, and you bite down hard on the forearm braced beside your head. Johnny whines in pleasure, hips stuttering before resuming their normal brutal rhythm.

“‘M close, bonnie,” he pants. His motions become more flustered as he approaches his climax. The hand gripping onto the arm of your chair now curls around his forearm as you hold tight to him.

He releases, his spend coating your walls in thick spurts and he drops his body on top of yours. You can feel him twitching inside of you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

After a few moments, Johnny catches his breath and snakes his arms under you. He lifts you out of the chair and brings you to the couch he’s sat on countless times before, letting your limp form curl against his. He pets your head lovingly as you lay against him, humming softly to himself.

When you fall asleep, Johnny whispers his plans of the future to you. The house he’d purchased in the Highlands a couple of weeks ago is ready to move into. You won’t have to worry your pretty little head about a thing. The plane is chartered, and you’ll both be on it. He’ll be able to last longer next time, and you’re going to give him the most beautiful family — together you’ve already started to.

[animeyanderelover]

Hello! I hope you're having a good day! Can you write about the topic you wrote in this link for Muzan meruem chrollo and sukuna? Good afternoon!

The link being referred to is this one if anyone is curious.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, controlling behavior, manipulation, blackmailing, isolation, violence

Tags: @jamayah @leveyani @chxxz @hyakki-yosai @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59 @lovley-valentine7

S/o is a time and world traveler

Chrollo Lucilfer

📖​An ardent reader of humanity, Chrollo takes an interest in you early on as he notices you during one of his stays in a city he plans to raid with his Phantom Troupe. There is information to be gathered from him and as he schemes and manipulates to achieve what he needs, you stumble upon him. New to town with wide eyes brimming with curiosity, the type of innocent that someone like him should stay away from. Yet somehow he is unable to shake the feeling off that to you there is more than meets the eye. It’s a suspicion he is unable to shake off as Chrollo has certainly a good read on humanity. So why does he feel like there is something special about you? With the time he still has left before the coup, Chrollo decides to indulge in his peaked interest and approaches you one day in town. Offering you to show you around the city works wonderfully to get you to open up to him as you accept his offer eagerly. The answers you give him are vague though, your true home a mystery. Chrollo always seeks answers though so the lack of information from your side only serves to fuel that urge to find out what it is that has his attention so stuck on you. Whatever it is you are keeping, he needs to find it out.

📖​Initially it's his charm he uses in hopes of coaxing you into opening up to him. It has worked on a lot of unassuming people before yet on you it doesn't. It's hard to get you to open up and whilst others might find this infuriating, Chrollo finds himself enjoying the challenge. He's come to like you over the last few weeks that he has gotten to know you. Something within that innocent curiosity attracts him especially since it is coupled with an unusual amount of knowledge and wisdom that not many within your age possess. It is such an unusual combination as wisdom always comes with pain yet you have kept your liveliness alive nonthelesss. He wants to know how you have done this and why as well. As you don't respond to his attempts, Chrollo sees himself with no other choice but to use a Nen ability on you. He introduces you to his friends, all under disguise, and asks Pakunoda in particular to question you about your origins and use her powers to get the answers. Only for her to report back to him later on that she was unable to use her skills on you. Once again Chrollo finds himself denied of a knowledge he wishes to obtain yet the more it is kept away from him, the more he desires it, desires you.

📖​Nen, the very ability that makes many people as fearful and strong as they are, doesn't touch you. After Pakunoda's report he decides to try to use some abilities out of his book to see if you respond to any of them yet he receives the same results as Pakunoda. Nen doesn't respond to you and you don't respond to Nen. The very power of this earth can't touch you mentally and in cases not even physically. This leads Chrollo after many hours of pondering to a theory that only ensures his further downfall into obsession. If Nen does not respond to you then perhaps that hints at the fact that you aren't from this world. An anomaly if he has to name it, something that shouldn't be within this world and yet still is. Answers have to be obtained and he has to resort to methods and substances that can and will work on you. He drugs you and restrains you, uses your inebriated mind to slowly and patiently pull all the answers out of you without putting a single scratch on you. He bemourns that he can't have a conversation with you at your fullest abilities but he fears that otherwise you might escape his grasp. Your ability is something he cannot steal so he has to find other ways to keep you by his side.

Meruem

👑​For you it is a very unfortunate happening of being at the right place at the wrong time. Your plans originally only involved exploring the very kingdom where Meruem and the Chimera Ants have settled down yet you don't know about that until a few foot soldiers attack you. There is little to no choice for you but defend yourself though you do not kill them. Perhaps that was your one fatal mistake as they quickly report the accident to one of the royal servants who in return reports it to Meruem himself. The slight rousing of curiosity is not enough for him to take matters in his own hands though as he simply tells one of his servants to capture you and to deliver you to him as he may get stronger by eating you. All search is quickly solved as you decide to turn up right at the palace's doorsteps yourself. It's your curiosity of the species of the Chimera Ants that has led you to this place and you are immediately brought to Meruem. His boredom outweights his interest yet he decides to entertain you as he asks you to name a reason why he shouldn't behead you and devour you within the next second. What you offer him though in return for staying within this palace is knowledge. Knowledge which you have a lot of.

👑​You bring with you complex board games which do not exist within this world as victories go back and forth between Meruem and you. Whenever he wins, there is no feeling of satisfaction as everything is always cutting too close for him to confidently believe that he is genuinely better than you. The conversations between the both of you prove to equally as entertaining as your answers are thought through and always deeply sophisticated. You do not shake whilst in his presence like normal humans nor are you as blindly loyal as his royal servants. Meruem finds himself appreciating this as he continues his conversations with you and keeps you alive whilst you get to find out more about his species. It's Shaiapouf who brings him the news of the weird discoveries that he has made whilst going through your stuff, his distrust for you too deep as he views you as a threat to the king. A part of Meruem wishes to kill the servant for that breach of orders but the information that Shaiapouf brings with him makes him still valuable enough. Diaries he has stolen from you and devices which do not exist within this world, maps of strange worlds and sketches of inhumane creatures.

👑​Shaiapouf offers to use his Nen abilities on you to force you to talk but he is crashed through the next wall as he makes such a brazen suggestion to Meruem's face. Instead the king seeks you out himself to confront you about the things that he has found out just now. He wishes for transparency as he has given you the freedom to satiate your curiosity. It is only fair that he gets to do the same with his own interest. Surprisingly enough you do not protest much and decide to answer him all the question that he wishes to have answered. The answers you give him are as intriguing as they are worrying him. What you hold makes you worth more than treasure as your knowledge, powers as well as your immunity against Nen make you very strong. Yet Meruem realises that you have no intention to stay in this world where he exists forever as you plan to move on as soon as you have achieved what you came here for. A scenario which he cannot let happen as he has grown far too attached to you. A King needs a worthy partner by his side. You will be that person who will stand next to him as he conquers new territory. Meruem won't settle for anything less than you. You will be kept.

Kibutsuji Muzan

🩸​Muzan's one fatal weakness is to underestimate humans. He seems himself as something above death, above humanity. After all he has almost reached the perfection that he wishes for yet it is a tiny life of a flower which he is missing in order to walk under the sun. For a millenium already he has been searching for the Spider Lily yet not a single demon that he has created has been able to deliver him the flowers. You happen to catch his attention through the talks of the people within the city he is currently residing within. You've just recently appeared within town and happen to have an interest for botany. With you you have brought exotic plants no one in Japan has seen before as you do not come from this country. Immediately you have Muzan's attention as with your arrival he suddenly sees a chance that you might have the very thing that he so desperately is searching for. He takes things into his own hands as he pays you a little visit under the disguise of being a human who wishes to get to know you, the new person in town. You happen to have opened a small shop selling flowers and trees. What he needs he doesn't find there yet he still asks you if you know where to find the Spider Lily.

🩸​The brief flash of recognition within your face as he speaks the name almost elicits glee within him. So you do know. A good thing rarely comes without bad news though which is exactly what happens when you inform him that you do know where they grow but that they do not grow here. It's only natural for him to assume that you mean that they don't grow within Japan but another country, a hindrance that he believes he can conquer though. After all now he knows that what he is searching for exists. He wishes for your help as you are the expert yet you sense that there is something very malicious behind those red eyes and deny him. A fatal mistake which you would have paid dearly if you would have been just a normal human. You aren't though and as Muzan sends at night a demon out to capture you and deliver you to him, he finds out about that too. You possess abilities which he is not familiar with as you are no Demon Slayer. Is there another organisation out there with people who possess powers similar to you? Will they be a threat for him? It's always only about his own life yet all the answers he needs are within you and unfortunately he can't catch you.

🩸​He breaks into your house after having ensured that you will be out at night as he lets some of his demons loose to keep you busy all whilst he goes through your stuff. By the time you return he has almost pieced the truth together. The moment you step inside he attacks you and knocks you out before you can try to do anything to escape into a dimension which he can't follow you to. Your obedience he cannot gain through the usual means but his answers he will get. He needs to have you. You are far too valuable to escape from his grasp. After all now he finally understands what you have meant. The Spider Lily grows in another dimension which you have already travelled too. All he needs is for you to take him with you to that dimension so that he can collect the cure needed for him to walk under the sun again and then he can finally reach the perfection that he has always desired. You are far from done even though. You are a limitless potential which Muzan can use for his own gain. You should be honored, you know? After all he intends to keep you alive and by his side as not a mere pawn but as a precious pet which he will cherish. After all biologically he can still transform you into a demon.

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾​Truth be told, Sukuna and you know each other. As someone able to travel through not only dimensions but also to arrive in different dynasties it is unsurprising that you can appear over a millenium within the same world after having already visited during the reign of Sukuna's rule in the past. However, you are no prophet and for that you are not aware that the King of Curses has already spawned within the new time and age and is currently locked away within a boy named Itadori Yuji. You just happen to meet the boy during your trip through modern day Tokyo without any clue of what monster he is keeping within him for now. Whilst you don't see Sukuna though, Sukuna senses you whilst sealed away within the boy. It's almost nostalgic to know that you are still out there, one of two faces of a glorious time which has long passed. However, he is not as sentimental as to let himself get carried away by one very important fact. You shouldn't be alive anymore. It's been over a 1000 years since him and you have faced each other and as far as Sukuna knows you were nothing but a itty bitty human back then which he could have easily devoured. Things are about to get interesting, aren't they?

🗾​He orders Uraume to keep an eye on you whilst he is plotting to break free. What he needs is a vessel and not a cage. As soon as he has found a new body strong enough to serve as a vessel for him he intends to find you and figure out how you are still alive and no day older than the last time that he has met you. Though you are still unaware of Sukuna, you sense that there is something watching you. Uraume is after all a tangible body within this world unlike many of the little and weak curses scattered throughout a city as large and densely populated as Tokyo. You are oblivious to the curses around you and they cannot latch on to you and feed from your emotions either as you are intangible to them. All of this nothing but observations that prove to fuel Sukuna's fascination the moment he has finally found a useful vessel in which he can reside in and have full control over. A grin spreads on his face as he listens to Uraume's report during the time they have observed you. It seems like there is more to you now than what he was able to see back in the days. It's time for a long overdue visit where the two of you catch up with each other. No lies, please. After all he is your oldest acquaintance.

🗾​He's flattered to see that you haven't forgotten him either if your expression of mild terror is anything to go by. Sukuna makes himself comfortable within the place you are staying at as if he owns the place. The cocky grin doesn't leave his face once as he invites you to sit down and expresses his wish to merely talk with an old friend. You cautiously sit down after a few seconds as your curiosity ultimately wins you over as well as your own confidence that he won't be able to kill you as easily as he could have done when the both of you first met. After all you have gained a lot of experience and control since then. Something that Sukuna notices as well. You've matured in a lot of ways and he actually compliments you for it. Still, he has found out that there is a world of curses out there which you cannot perceive and you yourself aren't aware of it. That's the bait that he uses in order to get you to reveal to him how you can still be alive after all this time as he would kill any other sorcerer you might seek out in order to receive your answers. Oh, if he would have known about all of this a thousand years ago he would have taken you long ago. Perhaps he'll enjoy the challenge now that you're stronger and wiser though.

[tojiscrack]

wherever you are right now, good morning/evening/night… that was a mouthful, but i’m not sure how else to start this.

it sounds serious, i know, it’s not, don’t worry, but i like being dramatic, haha, you know me ;) i have a small announcement to make — i say ‘small’ ‘cause it really can be done in one or two short sentences, but i’d like to give you some context and reasoning because i care about every single one of you reading this, all 470 of you, and i’d hate to leave you without an explanation.

i’m mainly addressing my LL (liar, liar) readers, ‘cause i seem to have a big following and a large number of people who interact with me because of that piece of work, but this also goes out to the very few people (and i’m not being dramatic when i say very few people, lol) who are loyal readers of SOANO (start of a new obsession).

i am going on hiatus.

yeah, i know, boo, tomatoes, the story was just getting started 😠 , etc, etc.

and i apologise.

genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, i’m truly, deeply sorry.

you’ve been forced to tolerate my extremely sporadic updates that were only just starting to get better (some updates would come weekly, whereas others would take two more weeks, but never an entire month like before). i really am sorry. i know what it feels like to enjoy a story and then be left on a cliffhanger (of sorts?) when the author goes on a hiatus — mini or not.

i think this long message will answer most of the questions you have in mind, the first being ‘how long will you be on hiatus for?’. and i do have a straight answer for that:

five months.

i know, it’s a lot. again, i apologise. i can’t apologise enough, but let’s keep the questions going.

the one i know you’re all wondering — why am i going on hiatus in the first place?

just to be clear (for those of you who have genuinely become close friends with me through interactions) i’m alive, healthy, and well! i’m not falling out of love with writing, i’ve not fallen out of love with LL or SOANO (no matter how slow the updates for the latter seems to be) and i’m not feeling pressured by writing either of these stories for you all!

the reason is quite simple… school :/ exams. MAJOR ones.

when i started writing SOANO, i was around 15 years old (give or take a few?) and i had no major exams at all to focus on. halfway through writing SOANO, i was met with my first set of important exams at 16. for those of you who are not british and/or not aware of the uk education system, GCSE’s are the exams that dictate which sixth-form college you go to. college, as in, not university-college, but the last two years of high school (junior + senior year) that are the only two years of sixthform/college.

when i started writing LL, i was in my first year of college at 17 (this time last year), and so the only ‘major’ exams i had were mock exams that would prep me for my university predicted-grades. i am now in my second (and final) year of college, and the exams during may and june will dictate the rest of my life. that includes which uni i go to, whether i’ll even go to uni at all, what course i’ll take at uni if i do end up going, etc.

you get the idea. these are important exams. the most important ones that i’ll ever have to sit this year, and starting tomorrow, i have 130 days to turn my very-average-grades around to three A’s (or perhaps two A’s and a B) to get into my desired uni.

unfortunately, i can’t do that if i spend most of my time writing up very lengthy chapters for you.

why can’t i split my time accordingly, even if it means going back to the once-a-month updates? because i am so incredibly, stupidly behind on content for the courses i’m taking right now that i can’t even afford to waste 30 minutes on doing anything other than praying and studying. that’s just the sad truth of it.

again, i’d like to apologise for the inconvenience. i’ve received so many lovely dm’s from so many of you (and i answer every single one, you know that) and in the conversations that many of us have had together, a lot of you use the story (LL) as a safe haven, an escape from your own messy school lives, almost in the same way that i use it to escape my messy school life. some of you have mentioned that you pull all-nighters simply to reread it all as if you’re reading it for the first time. a few of you have mentioned how this story was an escape from the tragic events of canon, which was exactly what i intended for it to be like during the planning process, and i’m still so overwhelmed and flattered by the growing love i’ve received from both old and new LL readers.

will the story be temporarily taken down?

absolutely not.

i considered it for a time, but after acknowledging those comments i mentioned above, i decided that what’s left of LL right now (170k+ words divided in 10 chapters) can still be a safe haven for you whenever you need it. i also knew that i wanted everything to look the same for when i’d return in late-june of this year. leaving it up would also mean that newer readers (future readers) would join the family too, and we love a full house ;)

will i still be active on tumblr during the hiatus?

yes! maybe not as frequently as before (like answering messages in my inbox every day) but i’ll definitely be active enough to get through any messages, comments, asks, etc, within the span of a week for sure. you can still tell me about your shitty day in my inbox, you can still vent to me about an encounter with a guy you hate in my dm’s, and you can definitely still send in silly things about LL or SOANO. i’ll still be active, it’ll be like i never left, only, without the fortnite-ly (not a word, i’m well aware) updates.

LL’s one year anniversary is coming up in a couple of days, and i wanted to release a new chapter in time for it, but looking at my exams and how much cramming i’m already going to have to do for it without writing on top of that… i reluctantly acknowledged that it just won’t be possible.

i think i’ve addressed everything… this is a little awkward now, lol.

once again, i apologise for any hurt or inconveniences i might’ve caused, but i myself don’t enjoy the idea of not writing for 5 months any better than you probably do. 0-0 i enjoy writing, it never felt like a chore to me, and i’m going to miss it during the next 5 months that i’ll be spending alone, grinding overtime like hermione granger…

please wait for me, my little liars <3

love, mother hen sumaya

[lillaydee]

Matchmade Part 2

Millionaire! Joel Miller / Reader

Having experienced traumatic, life altering events, a freshly divorced Joel worked to repay his debt to the person he owed his life to.

WARNINGS:

Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Character Death, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut.

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 1

---

***So many possibly inaccurate medical jargons and conditions ahead. I don't know why i keep writing about medical conditions - I am nowhere near the Doctor spectrum occupation-wise. Just a shit ton of Grey's Anatomy and House. So, sorry about that.***

What? No, that’s impossible. She was there. She must be hiding. He had only known her for a day, but she seemed like the type. He had to make sure she was safe.

Joel’s thoughts were suddenly lost. He had lost consciousness, his energy completely depleted, he had lost too much blood. Tommy radioed the main boat, and they called for help. His heart had stopped by the time they got to the main boat, and he had to be shocked several times to get it going again. Soon after, he was flown into the nearest hospital, Tommy going with him, praying to God his brother would make it.

He was severely injured. Aside from the many, many, many lacerations and sunburn that he had, he was also severely concussed, his stomach wound had festered, nearing sepsis, he had a fever, his lungs were partly filled with seawater and debris, his main organs affected by it all, not to mention, a few bruised and cracked ribs, and hairline fractures on his arm and leg bones. The doctors were shocked when Tommy told them he was mobile when first spotted, one wouldn’t be able to tell from the extent of his injuries.  

When he finally woke up from his surgery, his first question was about Sarah. She’s at home, with Tess, Tommy told him. She was far too young to see him like that. He asked what happened. They received a distress call from the boat, fire in the engine room. It blew up. So far, he was the only one found. How long had it been? Five days, Tommy said. Joel only remembered being on the island for a night. He must have been unconscious for three days before he woke up.

The doctor said he was extremely lucky. If the boat hadn’t spotted him when it did, he would be dead that very night from the bleeding. He was lucky he was unconscious; the wood plugged his wound from bleeding too much until he pulled it out. The water and food he consumed definitely helped, too. He would’ve just slipped in his sleep from dehydration of he hadn’t had a drink.

Joel asked about Allison. Allie. The doctor looked a little apprehensive before answering – he was concussed, it was mostly delirium. He was seeing things. The rescue team went and scoured that island. No one was there.

Joel couldn’t understand. She was there. He wouldn’t have been alive and rescued if not for her. She woke him up when it rained, made him drink and clean his wound, made him plant the makeshift flag, made him go get the crackers, which he wouldn’t have found on his own, weak as he was. She woke him up when the boat was sighted. She made him draw their attention.

He would be long dead if not for her.

But as they had told him, there was no one else there. Maybe he did imagine her. maybe his mind was trying to save him?

Tommy stayed with him at the hospital, not wanting to leave his brother for a second. Maria and Tess came to visit when his parents got back to look after Sarah. Joel hadn’t wanted to speak to her on FaceTime, his face was almost unrecognizable. There were cuts and bruises all over, his skin was peeling, he didn’t want to scare her.

Tess and Maria told him that Tommy left as soon as the distress call was made, and didn’t come back until he was found, refusing to believe he was dead. Liz came to the office, demanding to see his will, and for Joel to be declared dead. She made a scene when she found out that Joel had instructed that all his money and other possessions to be given to Sarah, with Tommy as the executor until she turned 21. Joel was only going to give her the house in the event of his death. She was also still the sole beneficiary of his considerable life insurance. It’s not a wonder she was antsy for him to kick the bucket.

He was suddenly exhausted again, his head hurt from all the information that was given to him. His body was hurting from his injuries. After dinner, a nurse came in and gave him some painkillers, and before long, he was asleep again.

---

“Joel! Joel! Wake up! You have to wake up! You need to get help!”

He opened his eyes slightly; Tommy was sound asleep in the chair right next to his bed.

“Joel! Look alive, old man! She’s doing something!”

He glanced to his left, a nurse was standing next to his IV, checking something. He didn’t move, unsure if he was awake or dreaming.

“Joel! Wake your brother up! Do something!”

Who was speaking? The voice sounded familiar.

The nurse glanced at him and Tommy. He closed his eyes, not wanting to make a scene if nothing was going on. He couldn’t see her face from the angle. From her clothing, she was a nurse. Maybe she was just there to administer some medications. She took something from her pocket, and produced a syringe, still in its package. Joel placed his fingers around the call button, ready to press it if necessary, careful not to move, his eyes only slightly open to watch her. She removed the syringe from the package and pulled the plunger all the way back.  She placed a needle on it and inserted it into the IV line and began to quickly push.

Joel pushed the button as many times as he could, while shouting as loudly as he could for Tommy, who jumped upright and yelled for help, despite his grogginess. Something about his brother’s voice set off an alarm in his head. The nurse, unable to complete her task, tried to run, but Tommy managed to grab her, screaming for help.

The alarms were going off. Joel had gone into cardiac arrest.

“SOMEBODY HELP!!!”

---

Joel opened his eyes, feeling as if his chest had collapsed. Tommy was sitting at his bedside, his hands rested on the bed, his chin on them, his eyes red from sleep deprivation, exhaustion and possibly emotion.

“What happened?”

Tommy heaved a sigh of relief, calling for the doctor instead of answering him.

The doctor came rushing in and gave him a quick check-up. Once satisfied, the doctor left, instructing Joel to rest as much as he could. Joel’s eyes followed the doctor out, realizing that there were police officers outside his room.

Tommy took a cup and filled it with water, and asked Joel to drink.

“Tommy, what happened?”

He looked at Joel hesitantly.

“Liz tried to kill you. She injected air into your IV line. You had a heart attack. You flatlined. It took them forever to get you back.”

Tommy began to cry.

“The only reason you didn’t die was because she didn’t manage to finish the job. You woke me up before she could. If she did… Joel, if you… I can’t…”

He sobbed. His face buried on Joel’s side, his hand clutching at his brother’s arm. 

Joel rubbed his little brother’s head, telling him he was alright. It took a while for Tommy to calm down. By then, Tess had come in, trying hard to get Tommy to go home and rest. He hadn’t left Joel’s side at all. She was starting to worry for him. He refused. Terrified to even sleep, now that Liz had done what she had done. Maria came in a while later, bringing Tommy some clothes to change into, and food for the three of them. She told him not to worry. Liz wasn’t coming back anytime soon. She was charged with attempted murder. Caught red handed. Tommy looked relieved. He was terrified she was going to get off scott free.

“Hey, Joel? How did you know she was here? How did you know to ask for help? You were on painkillers,” Tommy wondered.

Joel tried to get up. They helped him adjust the bed, so he was more comfortable.

“Someone woke me up. Screamed at me asking me to get up. Wake you up.”

“Who? There was no one in the room.”

“I know. I didn’t see her either.”

“Who are you talking about?”

“That girl I told you about. Allie.”

The room got really quiet.

“But Joel…”

“Look, I know what you said. But I didn’t imagine her. She helped me on that island. If it weren’t for her, I would be dead. Maybe she’s in my head, but she was real to me. And it was her last night. I didn’t see her, but it was her. She was screaming at me to wake up, just like she did when it rained on the island, she told me to drink. Clean my wound. She told me there was some food washed up. I couldn’t move. She forced me to. She told me to make the flags. She woke me up when she saw your boat. If she didn’t, I wouldn’t be here. You wouldn’t have seen me. It was all her. I swear, I’m not crazy. Maybe I imagined her, but it was all her. Allison. Allie. With an A, but she wishes it was spelled with an E instead. Because her teacher kept calling her first in class.”

He laid his head back down, exhausted from trying to explain this. He knew what concussions could do, and he was concussed. Maybe she was in his head. But that didn’t make her unreal. She was there, and she saved his life. Twice.

Tess let out a deep breath.

“Well, if that’s the case, then thank you Allie.”

“Thank you Allie,” Maria said, raising her soda.

“Thank you Allie,” Tommy said, “here’s to you, Allie,” raising his soda before drinking the whole thing in one go, earning himself a brain freeze.

Tommy decided to stay with Joel, promising that he would rest. Joel requested a cot for him, the man looked as if he was about to fall over. The police officers had left, Liz being in custody, sure that he was not in anymore danger. They did move him to the room right in front of the nurse’s station though, at Tommy’s insistence, just for his peace of mind.

As much as Joel rolled his eyes at his brother’s overprotectiveness, Joel was secretly glad. He was having trouble sleeping that night, despite his exhaustion. Since he had arrived at the hospital, his sleep had been aided by medication. Now, he was terrified of falling asleep, worried that Liz was coming back, or that he would wake up on the island again, that all this had been a dream. He watched something on TV while Tommy slept, his eyes closing every now and again, only to be jolted awake again, too nervous to properly sleep.

But eventually, sleep took him.

---

When he woke, someone was sitting cross-legged at the end of his bed. He glanced at the clock, three am.

“Allie.”

“Hey old man. Glad to see you made it.”

“Where did you come from?”

“What are you reading from a script? Have some originality, old man. Is that all you could ever think to ask me?”

“Quit calling me old man.”

“You are old, old man.”

“I’m in my 30s, thank you.”

“Ooh… that’s not old at all…” she said, waving her hands around.

“How did you get off the island?”

“You know, you are far too interested in how I got here and there.”

“Okay, what are you doing here?”

“Visiting you.”

“It’s three am.”

“So? Maybe I’m not just visiting you.”

“Who else would you be visiting?”

“A friend, she’s on the 4th floor.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

She shrugged, averting his eyes.

Tommy stirred. Joel turned to look at him.

When he turned back, Allie was gone.

When Joel woke up the next day, he was sure he’d dreamt it all.

Really, if he really thought about it.

First of all, she disappeared when he looked away, in a split second. He didn’t feel her move or hear her run off. He might have been severely injured, and according to her, old, but to his knowledge, he could still feel his legs, and his hearing was intact, for now.

Second of all, she was what, maybe thirteen? Fourteen? It was three in the morning. Who in their right mind let their teen daughter visit someone at the hospital at three in the morning?

And finally, when he asked the nurses about it, they informed him the main door to the ward was locked at eleven at night. Someone had to buzz her in, and no one came in at that time.

Yeah, he must have been dreaming.

---

Joel had been healthy all his life. He was a strong man, made stronger by his size, his occupation, and his youth. Big, strong, imposing, deep sea fisherman. But right now, he was quite the opposite. He couldn’t talk for long without going out of breath. He couldn’t walk properly without help. He needed help showering. He needed help getting dressed.

It's so easy to give up when you went to bed a strong, horse of a man, and woke up as he did. He honestly had no idea how he had managed to walk at all on the island. His legs were severely chafed, cut, bruised, the soles of his feet practically robbed off the skin. All the bandages, the casts, the sutures were only making things worse. He had lost so much weight in the five days he was lost at sea; you would think he was a different man altogether.

He missed Sarah so badly he felt as if he was losing his mind. He talked to her on the phone, but he still didn’t look his best, and the last thing he wanted was for his little girl to think he was weak and couldn’t protect her anymore. So he waited. but it was killing him.

That first week he spent at the hospital was not necessarily bad, save for the attempted murder scenario, but other than that, he was sleeping most of the time. Whenever he was awake, Tommy was there, so that helped with the boredom. But once the doctors declared him stable, he persuaded Tommy to go home. The man had a life, a wife, a job to take care of. He couldn’t bogart him like that. But the very first day he was gone, Joel felt it. He was never an idle man, and laying on a hospital bed alone, not having company, hardly able to move, was annoying, to say the least.

He started taking short walks as soon as he could manage standing without getting dizzy. He had to use a walker, but he was walking. Just around his room at first, and then to the nurse station, before eventually making his way around the ward.

He was still not sleeping through the night. He kept waking up every couple of hours but managed to sleep longer and longer each day. He was sure he saw Allie sitting in one of the chairs one night, but when he turned the lights on she was gone. He couldn’t get her out of his head. Why did he keep seeing her? She was always in the same clothing. That should’ve been a clue that she wasn’t real, but he had a hard time accepting it.

After two weeks, he was improving, by a lot. He no longer needed the walker but could only manage walks around the ward. Tommy helped him walk beyond the ward, following him with a wheelchair just in case. He went outside for the first time after three weeks, breathing in fresh air, having been too cooped up these last twenty days. His parents brought Sarah to visit him that day. He held her tight for so long she started squealing, missing the weight of her little body in his arms, the smell of her hair. I missed you BabyGirl, you got so big. His head magically cleared up after that, finding himself able to sleep longer – he had seen his BabyGirl, he felt more like himself.

The next day, he was taken for a final scan. He fell asleep during the scan, waking up as they were wheeling him back to his room. In his groggy state of mind, he saw Allie get into the elevator. He tried to call her, but the doors closed.

As soon as Tommy and Maria got there that evening, he asked them to accompany him to the fourth floor. This whole ‘Allie is not real’ thing was really bothering him. This girl saved his life – twice. He needed to know.

They accompanied him to the fourth floor – the pediatric unit. He didn’t know what he was looking for exactly, she said she was visiting a friend. He scanned the faces of the children in the ward, their parents/guardians in the open floor ward, looking for anything that could help him find her.

He found nothing.

Until the sound of a door closing caught his attention – a corridor with private rooms laid before him. He walked in and began reading the names on the door – most were open, their occupants resting, or talking to their guardians. Right at the end of the corridor, was an open door, sounds of machines beeping inside. He glanced at the name on the door – Williams, A.

The three of them peeked inside. Joel’s insides turned cold.

There, lying unconscious on the bed, covered in tubes and wires, was Allie.

“Tommy, this is her. This is Allie.”

The three of them stared at her unconscious body, her eyes taped shut, a breathing tube down her throat.

“What happened to her?”

“I don’t know. I swear I saw her walking around this morning.”

“Excuse me, can I help you?”

Joel turned around, and saw you standing by the open door, a cup of coffee in your hands.

---

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’m here to visit Allie.”

“You know my sister?”

“Yeah, she, well, she saved my life.”

Joel told you everything. The island, the ward, everything.

You listened and asked him when this happened. Three weeks ago, he told you.

You stared at him and pressed the call button.

“You need to leave.”

“Wait, why?”

A nurse came in.

“Can you please escort these people out?”

“Look, I’m sorry, I just wanted to thank her, I mean no harm,” Joel was pleading with you, as the nurse began to escort him out.

“My sister couldn’t have helped you. She’s been in a coma for four months.”

---

Part 3

[ktempestbradford]

I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me

It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:

At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.

On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."

Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:

But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:

It gets worse.

"Tempest, how could it possibly--"

source of this video that also includes this charming description:

Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'

There is already a meme.

Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:

Who has already done an interview!

As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!

Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.

The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.

Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!

I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.

Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:

I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.

Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:

Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.

Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.

Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.

I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.

This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.

Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:

With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"

"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:

There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.

The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.

Even better, this weirdly grainy image?

From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.

If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.

As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.

And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...

This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.

Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.

As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...

Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.

You cannot make this stuff up.

But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.

Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.

HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.

[specsthesecond]

Being a waitress/bottle girl at a club that caters to monsters.

While serving a table of orcs their drinks you hear whistling from behind you and turn towards the table of werewolves calling you over,

"C'mere Doll, why don't you spend some time with us? It'd be better than looking at those ugly green faces."

The rest of the table barks out laughter and all you do is look back at the table of orcs to gauge their reactions, just incase you have to call the bouncer to stop another brawl.

"Aw yeah? Cus your slobbering snout's much more attractive, ain't it?"

One orc yells and the others hurl their chosen insults across the table as well. The werewolves grumble and snarl insults back and you just stand in the middle of this, trying to think of an escape.

"Maybe she ain't at your table for a reason!"

One of the orcs claims boldly and all the other orcs voice their agreement while the wolves clearly disagree.

"Why don't we let the lady decide." A wolf with greying fur suggests with a smirk and both tables seem to agree on this being just a wonderful idea.

"Well love? Who's better then? Us or the mutts?"

"Aye! The real question is who can treat her better, isn't that right, Doll?"

The attention of the two tables are now on you, waiting for your answer with baited breaths and half hard cocks probably.

"....I prefer minotaurs."

This deadpan response takes a few seconds to sink in before a chorus of disagreements and further arguing commences, but you're already making your way back towards the bar, you're sure they don't mind watching your tiny skirt bounce as you walk away.

That answer wasn't random, it's actually been the only thing you could think of all day. Your Minotaur coworkers cock reaching deep into your stomach while he pounds you into next week. That might be why so many customers have been extra forward with you today, maybe they can smell the need on you.

You finally make it back to the bar, getting ready to end your shift and finally get some relief.

"You causing trouble?"

You whip around to meet just the monster you were so desperate to see. He stands at the edge of the bar in his bouncer uniform, his sleeves hug his biceps very nicely and you nearly purr imagining what that arm would feel like around your throat, while he pounds you from behind. He gazes down at you with a knowing look.

"Me? Oh, I would never."

You look up at him and play with the collar of your shirt, successfully drawing his eyes to the generous amount of cleavage your uniform provides.

He huffs in amusement.

"They don't seem to think so."

He tilts his head and massive horns towards the two tables you just left where the occupants are all peering over one another to see the interaction between you and the bovine beast in front of you.

You scoff, take his arm and turn him around so that he's only focusing on you.

"I'm off. You're off in 15...maybe you could come by my place again....or something?"

You nervously bite your lip and he doesn't know why you're getting nervous.

You weren't nervous when you sent him that video of your stuffed cunt clenching around the Minotaur themed dildo you've had since before you were seeing eachother. You definitely weren't nervous when you sent him another video 6 hours ago of you stuffing said dildo into your perfect pussy in the employee bathrooms before slipping your tiny panties on over it, keeping the silicone deep in your cunt.

He pulls out his keys and leans down closer to you,

"Be ready when I get to the car."

You nearly squeal in excitement as you grab the keys and reach up to kiss his cheek. As you skip out the door to his car he looks back at the two tables just to revel a little in the disappointed grumbles and huffs emitting from the two groups as they go back to their drinks.

𓄀

[velvetures]

Got Me Snoring

A/N: One of my favorite things inspired by all the Ghost/König cosplayer TikToks using that one, song audio. Summary: Ghost admits getting head is boring. Reader isn't happy with that idea and goes about changing his mind. T/W: NS/FW 18+ Only, blowjobs, deepthroating, size kink if you squint, spit?, cursing, aggressive tension?, taunting, not proofread, and it's been a long ass time since I've written full-on smut.

“All I’m sayin’ is that if she calls again, I’m not about to answer.” Soap’s voice carried from the living space of the hotel room to the kitchenette where you stood microwaving some rice from a convenience store down the street.

After-mission talk always leads to the most strange conversations. Maybe the adrenaline or the high of getting almost killed got everyone in a talking mood. However as the Captain slid behind you to go grab more ice outside in the hallway, you couldn’t help but shoot him a questioning look. They’d been talking about their previous accomplishments and failures in the bedroom for nearly twenty minutes, and thankfully they’d not roped you into the ridiculous conversation but with the Captain leaving out of the room, it drew their eyesight right to you standing patiently for your instant rice to finish cooking.

“What about you, huh?” Gaz was the one to poke a little. “Have any horror stories from the bedroom?” His eyebrows raised in mischievous curiosity as all three men sat staring at you with great intent.

“I’ve faked it plenty of times.” You reply offhandedly, waving a hand at them and going back to staring at the small plastic cup rotating around in the microwave.

You overheard the men pass through the moment of silence with low laughs, most noticeably, Ghost. Who’d apparently found something very funny and decided to grace everyone with the sound of deep and resounding chuckles. With a gloved hand, you take out your food and rejoin them in the room, finding a spot on the corner of one of the beds and crossing your legs to hold the bowl while you watch and listen to more of their recounted stories.

Soap complained more about the one night he’d met up with one of the most beautiful women he’d ever met, and drank himself into oblivion to try and ease his nerves. The only problem was, that when he finally had enough liquid courage to make a move, he couldn’t get it up. Even watching him recount the tale now, you could see his embarrassment. You couldn’t imagine just how beautiful that woman had to be for Soap to give himself whiskey-dick so bad that to this day he regretted the memory and undoubtedly wished he could take it back. Gaz got pressured into retelling the story of the woman he met in Russia just for you since you’d never heard it; Detailing just how she’d been absolutely obsessed with him right from the get-go.

She couldn’t stop fawning over his accent and just how downright good-looking he was. Gaz on the other hand felt very embarrassed and never really tried to take things further on that trip. Fortunately for him, on a trip back a few months later for pleasure, he ran into the woman again and this time around she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. Soap and Ghost laughed, poking fun at how utterly exhausted Garrick was when he met up with them in London. His shit-eating grin was more than enough for them to surmise that his little Russian vixen had taken him for a hell of a ride.

Then there was Ghost.

He didn’t have much to say in the way of his own successes, but did share one or two small comparisons with the other two as they kept pulling out detail after detail about the many people they’d met over the years and how they either felt they’d left their mark… or totally fucking missed it. All of it came to a very interesting topic that you suddenly became very interested in when Ghost uttered one single statement that left your mouth hanging open and staring at him almost in disbelief.

“I don’t like someone blowin’ my cock,” his voice sounded flat. Totally unbothered and nearly sleeping at the idea. “Never cared much for it when half doesn’t fit.”

You couldn’t help but insert yourself into the conversation after a long hour or so of sitting like a viewer at a movie. “Wait a second… You mean to tell me you don’t like getting head because you're too big?” The gasp in your tone was obvious, and even Soap and Gaz looked at him a little strangely as if they didn’t truly believe the idea either. It gave you a bit more reassurance in your belief that almost all men enjoyed it. Sure, there was the odd chance that Ghost just didn’t like it at all, but you really wanted to hear his explanation if he’d give you one.

The Lieutenant turned to look at you and nodded stiffly. “Yeah, ‘bout always puts me to sleep.”

It was at this point you felt the slightest urge to tell him he’d never had someone give him a legitimately good blowjob before. But before you could even say something to the contrary, a thought crossed your mind. Ghost didn’t seem like the kind of man who attracted ill-experienced women. Especially when he had already proven throughout the evening that his previous encounters were much more interesting and expansive than even that of yourself. Something a bit… jealous rose inside of you at the thought.

Imagining your Lieutenant laying on his back and hardly making any sort of sound while someone pulls out every single trick in their arsenal to make a blowjob somewhat entertaining or arousing. You didn’t necessarily profess yourself to have a crush on Ghost, due to just how grey the line between operators and anything felt when you spent so much time together under high-stress environments. There was bound to be some level of emotional attachment that devolved past… professional. And for whatever it was, knowing that Ghost had such a bad opinion on the receiving end of pleasure became a challenge you wanted to overcome.

About that time, Price returned with half-melted ice and a half-smoked cigar hanging between his lips.

“Finished talking about chasin’ tail yet?” He grumbled, walking past the group of you still sitting around each other like a bunch of kids getting caught staying up late by Dad at a sleepover. “Wanna go to fuckin’ sleep.”

He dropped the ice bucket down on the dresser with a little thud before settling himself down on the pull-out couch with his hat covering his eyes and both arms resting behind his head with that cigar still puffing smoke rings into the air. Ghost was the first to stand up, making his way out of the hotel room without as much as a comment about when he’d be back or where he was going. Your eyes trailed over his shoulders tapering into a slim waist before giving way again to thick and muscular thighs enhanced by all of gear still strapped to his body. His kit did leave a lot to the imagination. And god did your mind start to wander as both Soap and Gaz began winding down, settling themselves down to sleep for the night or at least lay somewhere quietly so the Captain didn’t lose any more of his patience and kick someone out or force them to pay for their own room. Not nearly tired enough with all of the questions and thoughts about Ghost now floating through your mind, you didn’t care the least bit about laying down or pretending not to care about the fact of the matter and headed out of the hotel room after the Lieutenant as Soap turned out the final lamp in the corner of the room.

The air was a bit cold outside without your jacket, breath materializing in front of you in light wisps of fog with every exhale as you looked down both ends of the hallway hoping to see some sign of where Ghost might’ve gone to. Down on the far left side, a larger cloud of smoke blew past the breezeway entrance and you knew right away that Ghost would be at the end of it. And when your eyes peeked around the corner, you weren’t the least bit surprised to see him with a shoulder resting up against the wall; his back to you with enough of his mask pulled up so that he could smoke a cigarette. The sweet vanilla and cherry smell hit you like a wall, reminding you that Ghost preferred rolling his own cigarettes and used pipe tobacco instead of buying packs of anything else.

Leaves no trace behind… He’d explained without prompting one night after noticing that you’d been watching him.

“Followin’ me now?” His voice heavy with smoke and unhindered by his mask landed directly on you, not even needing to turn around to know you were the one tailing after him.

“Couldn’t let you freeze to death alone.” You reply with a little smile, taking it as your chance to go ahead and walk -slowly- over to him giving him the privacy to smoke without needing to fuss with keeping his face covered.

By standing just at his back leaning against the wall, he knew right where you were, and it put the weight of conversation on him for the moment. He gave you a gruff sort of sound and took another drag off his cigarette before turning just far enough to offer it to you. You take it from his gloved fingers carefully, licking your lips a little in slight nervousness. This wasn’t the first time he’d offered you a hit, but it was the first time you’d ever actually taken him up on it. Seeing the damp rolling paper on the end made you shiver a little; Hopefully, the cold weather would be a good enough excuse to keep him from recognizing your sudden anxiety around him. Wrapping your lips around it and inhaling, you’re a little more than guilty for noticing the taste of Ghost instead of the vanilla and cherry. With a quick glance to your side, you saw his mask was pulled back down over his mouth and his dark eyes were focused right on you as you blew the smoke out of your mouth and back in through your nose. Attempting to hand it back, he just shakes his head.

“You didn’t come out here to be cold,” He finally broke the silence. “What’d you really want from me?”

No matter how long you spent around Ghost, you never got used to just how miserably direct Ghost could be. Like nothing was truly surprising to him or worth being the least bit delicate over. Even if it concerned someone -like yourself- at least attempting to be a little more discretionary. Yet you sighed and took another drag before tossing the rest of it down on the concrete, putting out the ember with the toe of your boot.

“Were you lying earlier?” Your question falls a little short of confident, giving Ghost the impression right away that you were nervous. For a split second, you thought you saw the phantom of a smile under the cover of his mask before it was quickly hidden back under late-night shadow and white paint. Ghost put his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt and gave a sigh, making more fog swirl around and through the woven material around his mouth. Another thought of what his mouth looked like flashed through your failing mind.

“Why would it matter?”

You licked at your bottom lip, trying to figure out a way to word this without sounding desperate or downright shameless in front of your commanding officer… you shouldn't be thinking about doing this in the first place. So many more bad outcomes could come of this than the one good one. Even then, it was risky. Leaving you a bit dazed and staring at Ghost.

“Asked you a question. I’m expectin’ an answer.” He pressed forward, a slight swagger in his hips as he got closer to you, resting a hand on the wall and tilting his head a little to the side. Damn near mocking you for being so much smaller and easily intimidated. You look down at your boots for a moment, deciding to just put your money where your mouth is and take the hit no matter the outcome.

“If you weren’t lying…” You look up, internally screaming at how heavy his eyes look down on you. “I’d like to try and change your mind.”

A deep chuckle comes from the Lieutenant in response followed by his heavy hand resting on your shoulder, almost totally engulfing it.

“You’re jokin’,” His voice lowered with humor that made you almost shrivel up and die inside. “Why would I let you do that?” You give a frustrated sigh and take a step back away from Ghost. Mentally and physically distancing yourself from the slight Ghost had given you by accident or otherwise.

“Never mind.” You give a short nod and turn on your heel to head back to the hotel room and find somewhere to curl up on the floor or in a bed with someone and try to sleep off your damaged ego.

Yet five steps away from Ghost, you’re stopped short with his arm snaked around your waist tightly and his mouth resting against your ear with a heavy and hot breath fanning against your neck. His palm spreads over your stomach and squeezes almost aggressively at the soft flesh under your shirt. Tall and wide, Ghost yanks your back flush to his chest as a silent threat.

“Don’t fuckin’ walk away from me,” His low growl makes you shiver. “I’m not finished with ya.”

In an instant, you’re spun around and hauled aggressively with your back against the nearest wall with Ghost’s chest holding you from fighting back. His legs limit your ability to try and escape out from under his arms, and while one hand is flat against your chest, the other restricts both your wrists above your head. Breath evacuates your lungs with the sudden shock of your back against the wall, but your eyes are locked on Ghost’s as he glares at you harshly through the wavering mist of his breath in the cold air.

“Now I’ve got you pacified…” His smirk was clear in tone, outright mocking you by pressing those massive thighs tighter against yours. “Let’s continue shall we?” The gloved hand pressed against your heaving chest slides up to grasp firmly at your chin and jerk it up to look him in the eyes.

“Why don’t you be a good little thing and tell me why you think you could change my mind, and maybe… I won’t punish you for talkin’ shit to your superior officer.” He spat loudly, his face less than an inch from yours, eyes flaming with aggression.

“Sorry Lieutenant…” You mutter stiffly through the struggle of his hand against your jaw. “Thought I could do better.” You add a lot weaker, averting your eyes as far from Ghost as you can.

“What was that?” He made dark fun of you, terribly obvious, and downright happy with himself. “Say it again.”

You squirm in his grasp, only to get your wrists slid up higher on the wall and a thigh shoved between your own to lift your feet almost totally off the ground. Toes tapping the ground, Ghost holds you totally of his own power without the slightest effort needed to keep you held right where he wanted you to be.

“Thought I could do better.” You repeat yourself louder, and more clearly, feeling utterly stupid for enduring such pathetic treatment. Only you knew it was your fault for letting such a pipe dream of an idea come to reality by prodding Ghost about his sex life so confidently. The masked man hummed lowly, tilting his head as he inspected your face lighted only by a small sliver of moonlight creeping around the corner of the hallway.

“Better, huh?” Ghost chuckles darkly, this thumb tracing over the bottom curve of your lip carefully. “That’s a lot of confidence for someone so small.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Size has nothing to do with it.”

Ghost barks laughter, grumbling something under his breath before dropping his hand away from your jaw and releasing one of your hands to press against his groin. You can’t miss his meaning from the massive erection pressing back against your hand and twitching impatiently when your Lieutenant squeezes your hand around it tighter. A growl escapes his throat and he looks up at you with almost evil eyes.

“Still think size doesn’t matter, little one?” He questions, one eyebrow raising above the hemline of his mask.

Your mouth falls open in shock. Not only because of the sheer girth of Ghost’s cock pulsing in your hand but realizing that he was actually taking your proposal seriously no matter how aggressive his mockery of you was. It shouldn’t have been so damn surprising when taking into account just how large of a man Ghost is. Surely everything would be proportionate, and his erection was proof of it.

Your face is enough to make Ghost chuckle. “That’s what I thought…”

It’s enough of a dismissal that thaws your speechlessness and throws you right back into the present with enough of the guts to speak up for your own desires.

“I can do it,” You blurt breathlessly, fingers tracing along the curve of Ghost’s dick and earning a lusty growl from him. “I can make it good. I’ll make it fit.” You nod your head feverishly in an attempt to keep your chance open. Ghost’s eyes widen at your desperation and his cock twitches hard in your palm with the sound of your shallow breaths and pleading eyes.

“You want it, huh?” He questions, mask moving like he’s grinning under it.

“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”

The moment his hands release you, you feel yourself sliding down the wall until your knees make a bruising thud against the concrete floor in front of Ghost. Your hands holding on his thighs without the slightest care that you were standing in the middle of a hotel breezeway where anyone could see you. A weight settled in your lower stomach with the idea of anyone coming out of their room and witnessing such a sight.

“My belt.” Ghost instructs a bit pinched, looking down at you with his chin almost touching his chest.

You’re frantic yet shaking as your hands slide up his thighs and begin pulling his belt loose, hearing that metallic clink as you pull the two sides apart with a watering mouth. No instruction is necessary for you to know where to go next, and as you unbutton his cargo pants, your free hand palms his cock as you pull down just enough of his waistband to expose him but not make him cold. Ghost’s hands help just a little, settling extra material where he prefers it, almost patiently holding up his own hoodie and t-shirt out of your way as you slid your hands under his boxers.

“Fuck…” Ghost mutters quietly, tensing when your fingers wrap around his base and free him from his underwear.

Your thumb smears over his swollen head soft enough to not make him jerk away with sensitivity, and you lick your lips at just how wet his cock already is from sheer anticipation. Hell, you were turned on too, practically dripping in your underwear at the sight of Ghost with nothing but a perfect dick exposed and ready for your mouth. The first lick is a teasing one. Flattening it over his head just because you couldn’t wait to taste him, gathering up his arousal, and making it a point to swallow with your eyes locked right on Ghost’s. You're certain it’s enough to affect him just by the way he grunts and rests both of his hands against the wall behind you to steady himself.

When your lips wrap around his tip and slide down towards his base slowly, you hollow your lips and suck hard. Almost mimicking drinking through a straw with both hands wrapped around his thick base to restrict blood flow, adding to his sensitivity. You feel his feet flex in his boots next to your thighs and another low grunt. It spurs you forward, sinking down further and massaging your tongue on the underside before raising back up to lick at his frenulum and repeating the process with quiet whines each time he’s unable to hold back some sound.

“Shit-” He hisses after no more than a couple of minutes, jerking his hips back away from you and moving your hands out of the way so he could tighten his own fist around his cock with a heaving chest.

He stays like that for a few moments, undoubtedly trying to stave off the pleasure you’d been giving before his eyes meet yours again and they’re downright hungry and raging with fury that you’d brought him so close without any extra fancy moves or those fake moans that porn always showed. With one quick movement, he stepped closer and tilted your head back until it gently rested against the wall behind you, his cock smearing your own spit and his arousal over your open and awaiting mouth.

“You look pretty like this…” He muttered, rubbing his length over your face and tapping it teasingly against your mouth. “You hungry for more?” You’re sticking out your tongue and nodding right away, earning you a tense chuckle and the feeling of Ghost’s dick sliding into your mouth while his hand cushions the back of your head from the wall.

“Let me feed it to ya,” He grunts. “Shove my fat cock in your mouth and fuck your throat..” He adds with a feral sort of sound mixing with an ever-thickening accent.

You moan around his length, feeling your jaw muscles begin to start aching when your nose just barely grazes his pubic bone and his tip touches the back of your throat. He’s thick enough to qualify as the largest you’ve ever experienced, but you’re not the slightest bit concerned about whether he’ll be able to fit. You know he’ll make it fit if nothing else.

And him utterly pounding your throat sounded so hot that you tried pushing further down on his shaft yourself. Eager to feel Ghost as deep in you as possible. Ghost obliges you, and rocks his hips forward slowly, easing his thick head past that ring of pressure at the back of your throat and cursing under his breath when a wet, gurgling sound vibrates around his shaft as you begin swallowing around him.

“Bloody, fuucckk yes…” His groans punch through the quiet air, far louder than he should be risking in such a public space. But he’s only getting started with this experience as your nose presses against his pubic bone, and his hand flattens against the wall.

“So tight… doggin’ me right where anyone can see.”

It’s the thought that had you so eager, and right away you felt just how much it turned Ghost on too. Because the second he said it, he pulled back just a fraction and pushed himself back down your throat, beginning tight and quick thrusts that made your eyes roll back. He kept a furious pace, growling and holding tight to the back of your head until you tapped at the back of his thigh a few times, and he pulled out with a loud grunt, giving you a moment to breathe. You panted, seeing a thick web of spit connecting your mouth and his tip before watching it break and drip down your shirt.

You’re about to tell Ghost… something. But you instantly lose thought of it when he’s bent down with his mask rucked up just far enough to smash his mouth to yours, shoving his tongue in your mouth and practically eating you from the inside out. You can still taste the salty edge of his skin, and it’s almost heady to have his mouth mingling with yours and sharing his arousal between soft moans and heavy breaths. The kiss is long and feverish, but not near long enough before he’s standing back up and stroking his fist up and down his cock right in front of you like an unreal kind of dream somehow coming to life.

“Please.” You mutter a bit hoarse from the rough treatment of your throat, totally unsure of what you really want most. Between his mouth, words, and dick there’s so much more than just one you desired, but at least one of them needed to be delivered to you to attempt satisfaction.

“Open up, little one…” Ghost whispers face re-masked already, and it makes you whine pathetically, having naively believed he’d allow you just one glimpse at the mouth you’d just tasted. “Need to have more of you.” You’re totally happy to resign by leaning your head back against the wall with your tongue wetting your lips in the cold air.

Ghost starts painfully slow, holding your head on both sides of your jaw and teasing his head against your tongue and the textured roof of your mouth; indiscernible words falling from his mouth and his eyes squeezed tightly shut. You would’ve thought it was nothing more than your Lieutenant just taking his pleasure as offered. But the way his thumbs brushed over your cheeks and his fingers would occasionally rub over the stretched muscles in your jaw gave you the feeling that he was well aware of what you were surrendering to him. As well as how thankful he was to have you on your knees, and looking so fucking angelic swallowing and spitting on his dick like a dirty little whore.

“Let me - Wanna…” His rising breaths and steady strokes begin to falter the longer he thrusts inside your mouth, meticulously avoiding forcing himself deeper in disappointment; resulting in your whining and muffled complaints and pleasure. Had his hands not been purposefully holding you back to prolong the session, Ghost probably wouldn’t have lasted this long.

“P-patience…” His stammer made your chest clench in satisfaction. “Don’t - don’t wanna finish in your mouth…”. That breathy comment nearly struck you stiff as concrete.

You couldn’t believe that after this entire ordeal, Ghost was actually trying to end a blowjob without you finishing it the way you honestly believed it should always end. With you swallowing every last fucking drop that the Lieutenant gave you; wearing a goddamn smile bigger than anyone has ever seen. If he hadn’t been lying and head never impressed him, there wasn’t a chance in Hell you were going to let him finish anywhere that wasn’t down your throat. In a split second, you were shaking your head no and pulling back off his cock with a slight gasp.

“No, finish.” It’s the most demanding and certain you’ve sounded all night. “Finish in my mouth, Ghost.”

His eyes say it all.

They’re wide with his pupils blown at impressive dimensions and his thick eyelashes flutter as his shocked expression forces him to blink over and over again to make sense of you. Mouth and chin covered in spit, on your knees, and literally begging him to come in your mouth.

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking filthy…” He mutters aloud, watching intently as you slide back down over him one more time and begin doing what you wanted to from the very beginning.

Bring Ghost to his knees.

It’s a moment before you have him cursing and holding onto the wall with both hands again as you push deeper and deeper until you're teasing the tip of your nose against him yet again. Unwilling to let him pull you off this time or prolong this. Deserving this release was the bare minimum. Not only did you want to provide him ultimate pleasure where no one else had, but you enjoyed every single bit of it. You needed this as much -if not more- than Ghost.

Heavy and twitching in your mouth, Ghost was teetering on the edge of his orgasm with stuttering hips and one hand sliding down to rest on your head. Not pushing this time, just laying at the crown like your movements were too much to feel with only one part of his body. Short pants were cut short by unintelligible words and strained attempts to say what you already knew.

As if giving your final approval of the idea Ghost had found unacceptable, you push him as deep as you could one final time; Hearing his loud shout echo down the breezeway as both of his hands grabbed harshly onto the sides of your head. Pumping stream after stream of his hot release down your throat you moaned deeply, feeling him gently rock his hips against your face as he rode down his high on shaky legs. You gagged a little as he pulled out, feeling your throat begin to burn in an unfamiliar way that had never followed you sharing a moment like this with another man. Only one look at Ghost’s cock right in front of your face was more than enough to reassure you he’d just been the one who gave you enough of a delicious stretch to feel for days to come.

Your eyes met his and a small little shy smile crossed your sore lips, contrasting the absolutely deplorable -and punishable- act you’d ever committed with a superior officer. Wordlessly Ghost tucked himself back into his underwear and neglected to button his pants back up before dropping to a knee right in front of you and pulling up his mask again to brush his lips against yours.

“Want to taste,” He whispered ever-so-softly, hands holding your head gently.

“Need to taste me inside your mouth.” He added, licking your lips before closing the distance between you for a second time. This kiss was still intense. Ghost controlling the pace and just how much dominance you had, which nearly came to zero when he licked into your mouth, groaning shamelessly. He could taste his release coating your mouth as he utterly overwhelmed you with kisses, licks, bites, and more moans that fell like honey on your ears.

You were the first to pull back for a gasp of air you’d gone full minutes without, feeling your own mouth and body beginning to feel a little weak with exhaustion not typical of a well-conditioned soldier like yourself. Your Lieutenant took note right away and rested his head against yours reassuringly, his nose touching yours.

“You’re too cold to be out here like this.” He whispered, pulling your cheek affectionately and wrapping the other arm around you. “Not gonna let you freeze after that.” He chuckled a bit sluggishly, kissing you again long and chaste.

He pulled his mask back down and gave very little effort to pick you up off your knees and into his arms without question or hesitation. Leaving you feeling like a treasured prize he’d won and refused to let out of his sight for more than a moment. Safe and protected, you couldn’t care one bit about the cold nipping through your thin clothes and resting your head against Ghost’s shoulder as he carried you back to the hotel room the 141 had already retired for the night in.

Expertly avoiding Soap and Gaz laying on couch cushions on the floor and covered with extra bedsheets, sliding around Price’s bed without bumping it, all while carrying you Ghost sat you down on the edge of the bed he’d been keen to claim as his own right when you’d arrived. You were nearly asleep just sitting there when he unlaced your boots enough to tug them off, pulled your shirt off over your head, and replaced it with one of his hoodies. Finally, he takes off your pants and nods for you to move up to the top of the bed, acting just as he would normally. But as he climbed into the bed next to you and tugged you back against him tightly, you realized you’d gotten a lot more than you bargained for.

Sure you might’ve changed Ghost’s mind about getting head… but you weren’t finished yet. Because Ghost was curling his arm around your waist and burying his masked face in between your shoulder blades like cuddling with you at night was the usual way of things. His fingers innocently traced the waistband of your underwear, and he radiated body heat that melted away the fringe sensations of cold on your body easily.

“I’ve made a decision,” He whispers very quietly so as not to wake the others. And you wiggle back a little closer to him, nodding your head as a silent acknowledgment for him to go on. Expecting him to say that you did -in fact- change his mind about getting blown.

“You’re mine now.”

Comments & Reblogs are Appreciated

[hannieehaee]

IO CHE NON VIVO

18+ / mdi

summary: being abducted and dragged to italy in the middle of promotions was not something wonwoo could've ever expected, but idol life was very unpredictable after all. what had truly caught him off guard, however, was the girl he met whilst strolling the pretty sights at night, fully unaware of his title as idol or any of his hectic life, offering a breath of fresh air he could've never accounted for.

content: strangers2lovers!wonwoo, idol!wonwoo, meetcute<3, shy!wonwoo, reader is lovely and outgoing!!, no race specified but reader's nationality is italian, language barrier (but reader is said to understand and speak korean so its ok!!), long distance relationship, summer love vibes, love at first sight type of situation, takes place during nana tour but does not follow the actual chronology of real events in the show, afab reader, smut, sex dream(?), dry humping, leg riding, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 18.3k

a/n: i want to preface by saying i had no idea where to watch nana tour for free so i never watched it!! so this fic does not follow nana tour at all outside of the premise in which they were in italy for a few weeks!

masterlist | patreon

Wonwoo should've known.

The moment he saw that uncharacteristically free month in his schedule, he should've known that something was up. Neither Hybe nor Pledis would ever allow for Seventeen to have an entire month clear of any schedules. It'd be an immediate financial failure in their eyes.

As much as Wonwoo enjoyed the rapid life of an idol, he missed the days when he was a teenager and time could stand still for a few moments. It had been a long time since he'd had that luxury.

So when he cross checked his schedule with his groupmates and realized they were all equally free of idol duties for an extended period of time, he couldn't help but feel worried yet relieved. Could be possibly make plans during this free time? Maybe rest? Maybe simply enjoy the quiet and slowness of time as it passed without a worry for what was next?

His questions were answered pretty quickly.

As he rested in his room after a grueling week of back to back concerts in Japan, Wonwoo felt content in knowing that he'd get to head back to Korea and rest for a few days. He only had a few simple album-related shoots for the following days, and once those were done he'd be able to cash in on his free month. The company hadn't mentioned any change of plans, nor had they officially announced the meaning of this gap in schedules, so Wonwoo chose not to question it and simply bask in it.

Unfortunately for Wonwoo, life was never that simple.

As per usual, he was not even allowed that a full night of sleep before being bombarded by noise just outside his door. Assuming it was just his hyperactive members meaning to make another attempt at dragging him into their impromptu rap battle, he simply turned to his side whilst nuzzling under the covers, too comfortable to be bothered.

The next disturbance came in the form of one Boo Seungkwan hesitantly opening his door with a key he assumed came from his manager, sneaking into the room as he checked for signs of life.

Not fully awake, Wonwoo continued to ignore the situation, hoping that his lack of reaction for whatever was going on outside would lead his members to realize that he was checked out for the night — something quite usual for him after an extraneous concert.

After a few moments, Wonwoo was able to hear the descent of Seungkwan's steps, meaning he had likely left the room and that Wonwoo could now claim slumber to its fullest extent.

That was until an entire band of people marched into his room, carelessly turning on the light and rushing towards his lone form on the bed. Sitting up sleepily, he attempted to make sense of what was happening, unsure of why this many people had entered his room, and suddenly far too aware of his lack of clothing, pulling his blanket to cover him as much as possible.

Thanks to Boo Seungkwan, his glasses quickly found their way to his face and a shirt was thrown at him to put on while under the covers. It wasn't until then that Wonwoo realized that Na PD was one of the many people currently looking down at him as he laid in bed, camera man next to him.

"What is happening?", he murmured about one minute into the situation, barely awake enough to speak.

"We're getting abducted, be ready," spoke Mingyu with a laugh from the side of the room, looking far too excited and as if he had already been briefed on the situation.

The rest of the details were blurry, but the gist of the situation ended in only one verdict — Seventeen was now headed to Italy.

The free month should've been a dead giveaway, but Wonwoo had simply been far too busy with his usually hectic schedule to even make the connection. It had been a while since the deal to be taken away spontaneously had been made, so the whole thing had left his mind.

Despite his prior desire for some free time, the thought of finally stepping foot in Europe for the first time did bring a smile to his face. Mingyu had always told Wonwoo of his wish to go to Italy someday, which was usually echoed by Wonwoo himself. The chance to go with all his friends made him look forward to it all the more. All he needed was his camera and he'd be a happy man.

One lengthy flight later and Wonwoo found himself in Italy with a band of eleven friends (Seungcheol was sadly left behind) and even more staff members. The gist of the trip was that they'd be recorded simply exploring the beautiful city they'd landed in and playing the occasionally game for content on the show. It had been dubbed Nana Tour, even including personalized shirts for every member.

As per instructions by Na PD, they would get a lot of leisure time to use however they desired. Being a good friend of the group after a few prior meetings, Na PD had assured them that he wanted to grant them as much vacation time as possible whilst in Italy, not wanting to put too much pressure on the content-making aspect of the trip. As long as they were able to record a good six hours of content every week for the duration of their month-long stay, they'd have more than enough for a full successful season of the show.

So now Wonwoo was in Italy, a place he considered to be one of the most beautiful he had seen in his short life. The weather was comfortable, the sights amazing, the food delicious, and not to mention the freedom that came with being out and about on his own, worry-free of his responsibilities as an idol.

Surely he'd get recognized by Italian carats sooner or later, but within the few days he'd been here, always opting to go on a quiet outing at night, he had not been spotted as of yet. Maybe it was the fact he was so far from home and his location was unaccounted for by the media, or perhaps the nighttime making it difficult to recognize him, but he was currently experiencing an incognito lifestyle he had long bid adieu to.

Tonight, similarly to the previous three nights, he made the rounds in the small home Na PD'd staff had rented for Seventeen and excused himself for a nightly outing. At this hour, all activities expected for them had been wrapped up, giving them full freedom to spend their leisure time as they wished. Some other members opted to stay home, having already enjoyed outings during the day, whilst others went out in groups. Wonwoo was alone in the fact that he craved alone time at this hour, preferring to head out with no company other than his camera.

Camera in hand, Wonwoo made his way outside, always heading in a different direction than the previous night, seeing where fate would take him and taking pictures of any pretty sight on the way.

The night was chilly, illuminated by the yellow streetlights that had a tendency of brightening up the city as dawn fell. Maybe it was the change of scenery, but Wonwoo found himself in love with the atmosphere of the nightfall in Italy. Every sight was one to behold. It hadn't taken long for his love for photography to invade his every free moment in the beautiful city. Pictures overflowed his camera roll, all satisfying his artistic eye.

His nightly stroll lasted a good half an hour before he found himself near a shore, looking to the distance and finding nothing close enough to the end of the sea. It was too dark to tell what might be beyond, but the sight was still one Wonwoo quickly became hypnotized by. Surprisingly, the area was quite lonesome, with most people choosing to hang by the brighter areas nearby, housing themselves in restaurants or small shops that opened late into the night. He found himself alone with the ocean and a lone street light providing him with that yellow hue he came to find comfort in.

The comfortable loneliness did not last Wonwoo too long. A sudden presence practically materialized a few feet from him a few moments later, or maybe he'd just been too drawn by the sight to notice anyone approaching prior. He meekly turned his face to the side, unable to help wondering who was his new silent companion. Upon taking a cautious look, he found the silhouette of a girl. Wanting to avoid making her uncomfortable or being too obvious, Wonwoo looked forward almost immediately, now eyeing the view once more.

They stood like that, in comfortable silence, for a few long minutes. No words were exchanged despite the mutual knowledge of the other's presence, simply sharing a moment of solace together. It was unlike any other interaction he'd ever had with a stranger — or lack thereof, really.

He felt comfortable, uninterrupted in his peace despite the presence of a stranger. Wonwoo had never been good at strangers, specially not in foreign countries. He usually found himself being anxious and far too quiet for comfort, never one to pick up casual conversation even in his native language, much less in one he felt no confidence in. His on-stage persona was very different than that of his actual one. Carats were quite correct in assigning the black cat stereotype — quiet, untrusting, keeping to himself.

The silence halted with the sudden stutter of a camera, taking Wonwoo out of the trance he'd been in as he stared out to the water, making him turn to the left in a combination of fear and curiosity. His instant assumption had been that whoever the faceless girl was, she must've taken a picture of him, having recognized him. But as he turned to the side, he found her in a rather awkward position, crouched down and camera facing the sea as she found the best angle possible for her shot.

He chuckled breathlessly to himself, a bit embarrassed that he'd made such an assumption of an unsuspecting stranger who likely had no idea who he was. Where did that big head come from, Wonwoo?, he thought to himself. This girl knows nothing of who you are, most people here seem to be the same, he should be happy.

It was then that he finally made sense of your appearance, as you crouched towards the edge of the shore and gave him a better look of you under the streetlight nearby. He couldn't see your face very well as you continued to face away from him, but he had a good enough view to catch the slope of your nose, the color of your hair, the shape of your body, all distinctive features he could appreciate under the melancholic lighting.

Wonwoo wasn't really one to care much for appearances. Beautiful people came in all forms, but he was one to truly find beauty in a person through other means, usually enjoying the physical aspects of a person's being only after getting to know the emotional ones. There seemed to be some exceptions to the rule, however, as Wonwoo came to find when you got up to your full height, making your way back to your original spot but incidentally locking eyes with him as he eyed you curiously. Your eyes drew him in immediately, finding you beautiful upon a single look.

As embarrassed as he was at getting caught staring at you, his mind was eased when you offered a friendly smile, taking his smile in return as a welcome to stand closer than you'd been before. Wordlessly, you made your way to his side, eyeing the small disposable camera he had hanging from his neck.

"Photographer, or is it just a hobby?", you asked in a language Wonwoo recognized to be Italian. Prior to this trip he probably wouldn't have known the language, but it was easy to tell it apart after a few days of being surrounded by it.

Sadly, his short stay in Italy had not educated him enough in the language to even be able to pretend he understood you.

"I don't know Italian, sorry," he responded apologetically in English, hoping it was as much of a universal language as school had taught him.

"English, then?", you now responded in English, accent as perfect as it had been when you'd spoken Italian. It didn't surprise Wonwoo to meet an English speaker, but he still couldn't help but feel impressed at what seemed to be your knowledge of a second language.

He smiled awkwardly, eyes not meeting yours completely, "Not much, sorry," he rasped with an awkward chuckle, feeling dumb for misleading you by speaking English.

"Hmm," you mulled for a second, eyeing him in a way that made him a little shy, "Korean?" you asked with a tilt of your head.

His mouth morphed into an o shape, nodding surprised, "How did you know?", he asked in English, sure you likely didn't speak Korean.

"There's Korean writing on your shirt," you pointed out with a smile, giggling when realization hit his face and drawing a similar laugh from him, "What brings you to Italy?", you asked, continuing to make brief conversation.

Wonwoo needed to take a short moment to think of how to respond. He'd done many fancalls in English, having to rely on his limited knowledge of the language and the quick assistance of English-speaking staff, but he always avoided these situations when he was on his own. This was a conversation he was interested in pursuing, however. You interested him, not to mention that he found you quite beautiful.

"I'm sorry, it's unfair of me to expect you to answer in English. I understand a bit of Korean, if that helps?", you interrupted his thoughts, pure kindness in your voice.

His eyebrows raised, surprised at your statement. He couldn't help but question you for confirmation, this time in Korean, "Really?"

Your giggle invaded his ears again, causing his eyes to crinkle with a shy smile to match, "Yeah, I studied abroad in Korea when I was a teenager. It's not perfect, but I can understand some," you elaborated, "Am I putting my foot in my mouth by speaking so much? Can you understand me, or should I try my broken Korean?", you continued. A kind and sympathetic smile remained glued to your face every time you spoke, making Wonwoo feel at ease and more relaxed than he ever had with a stranger.

"Yes, I understand," he explained in English, wanting to make things easier for you and with a slight fear of scaring you away if he made the language barrier too blatant, "I have an, uh, American friend. He teaches me," he added, thinking back to his two friends who usually took place of unofficial translators whenever he needed them.

"Okay, that's good. Don't feel shy if you need to speak Korean," you reassured, arms crossing due to the sudden chill of the night reaching you — blame your proximity to the water, "We can work through the language barrier."

"How long were you in Korea?", he asked in Korean, testing out if you'd meant it.

"Three years," you responded, "It's kind of embarrassing how little I learned in such a long time," you laughed at yourself, beginning to rub up and down your bare arms, huffing out a hot breath in the nighttime's chilly temperature.

His focus went to your outfit, noting you were wearing a sundress with sandals, probably not the most optimal outfit for a chilly night out in the town. Before he could stop himself, unexpected words began to leave his mouth, his actions matching his words as he set down his camera bag and shrugged off his hoodie, "Here, take my hoodie," he mumbled in Korean, handing you the sweater without a second thought.

Eyes widening, you shook your head adamantly, "Oh, no, that's fine, I swear," you began, only to for him to push the hoodie onto your arms, silently insisting, "Okay, thank you. But now you'll be cold," you pouted, giving Wonwoo thankful eyes that had his heart warming.

Coughing to mask his reaction, he cleared his throat, "It's fine, don't worry about it. You looked colder than me," he did his signature awkward chuckle again, earning a mirrored reaction from you.

"A gentleman, huh?", you grinned, sharing a brief moment of quiet as he smiled back at you, readjusting his thick-rimmed glasses as he took in the sight of you being swallowed by a sweater that was already oversized over his wide frame, "So, to go back to my original question: Are you a photographer, or is it a hobby?", you gestured to the disposable camera, seemingly not taking notice of the larger camera bag laying on the floor next to him.

It was clear to Wonwoo by now that you had no knowledge of who he was. This sometimes happened when he went overseas and decided to head out on his own. The lack of other members and of a manager accompanying him usually allowed him to go out unrecognized any time he left Asia. However, those instances were far too few, leaving him slightly surprised at someone your age being unaware of his role as an idol in one of the most popular K-pop groups — not that he wanted to needlessly sing his own praises or anything.

Should he tell you? Or would that be too odd? It wasn't as if he knew who you were or what your profession was. This was just a casual conversation, after all. Wonwoo needed to get out of his head and relax. Pretty girls spoke to him almost every other day, with many of them being dedicated fans who adored him for everything that he was, so why did he feel like he needed to go an extra mile to merely interact with you? You liked him well enough and seemed to not care much who or what he was, simply enjoying the calm company he brought, he needed to-

"Maybe I should've introduced myself before intruding on your time alone, sorry," you chuckled to yourself as you thankfully interrupted his thoughts once more. Your hand went out of the sleeve of his large hoodie, presenting itself to him, "My name is Y/N," you smiled, grin growing wider when he returned your handshake and grasped your hand in his larger one. Yours was cold while his was warm, creating the perfect shared temperature.

A quiet few seconds went by as he pondered whether or not he should give you a false name, but the need for a normal interaction won him over quickly.

"Wonwoo. Nice to meet you," he spoke in English this time around, enjoying the way your eyes crinkled any time he spoke in the language, "It's a hobby, by the way. Sorry, I'm not exactly known to be the best conversationalist," he excused himself for his previous silence, now sticking to Korean.

Your contagious giggle invaded Wonwoo's ears again, making him silently hum to himself in satisfaction. Wonwoo's night had evolved from a pretty scenery and even prettier company, Italy was turning out to be even better than he thought.

"Any way I can see your pictures?", you bit your lip, eyebrows raised in question, "I do some photography on the side, so it could be like an exchange, y'know? I show you mine if you show me yours," you gambled, taking baby steps towards him to bump your shoulder against his in a friendly manner.

"You're a photographer?", he asked, genuinely interested in hearing more. Photography was one of his greatest passions, the mere subject turned his shyness upside down without failure.

"Yeah!", you responded excitedly, lifting up the small camera that was hanging from the camera bag on your shoulder bag, "Wanna see?," you leaned to his side, holding the camera under both your gazes as he leaned into your personal space to see. You didn't mind this, fortunately, even making an effort to get closer to provide him a better view, "I took these while you were here, as you can probably tell," you explained as you showed him the pictures he'd seen you take. Somehow the beautiful scenery looked even more eye-catching through your lenses. Your artistic eye made it easy for Wonwoo to appreciate your talent, which you demonstrated through every pic you showed him in your camera roll. They were raw and still unedited, but he could tell this was a talent of yours. A nice sight was always easy to find, but capturing it to perfection took skill, this was something Wonwoo knew all too well, yet every photo you went through showed him your innate talent.

"Do you like them? You're pretty quiet," you chuckled, looking up over your shoulder and causing Wonwoo to realize just how close he'd been leaning. Flustered, he took a step aside, allowing you some breathing room as he looked down to his feet to gather himself for a moment.

"Yeah, they're amazing," he started in English, switching to Korean to further express his praises. During his commentary of your photography, he even went as far as to ask for your camera so could look at them once more, asking you questions about every scenery, every subject, unable to help himself in wanting to know more about your creative process.

As friendly as you'd been from the moment you first spoke to him, you took the praise with modesty, excitedly answering every question and even inquiring for his opinions, curious about his own photography despite his praise. Eventually, he gave back your camera upon vast insistence from you to take a look at his own photos, smiling widely when he pulled out his larger camera from his bag, sheepish as he showed you his pictures and blushing a bit at any and every compliment that left your mouth — and they seemed quite endless to Wonwoo. Occasionally, you'd even let out a few basic compliments such as 'so pretty!!' or 'that's beautiful' in Korean, making Wonwoo's eyes wrinkle at the smile invading his face.

The photography conversation eventually ended, both cameras making their way back to their bags and the two of you somehow finding yourselves on a little walk. Side by side, you took slow steps as you conversed and shared words in your respective language. It wasn't a full on conversation, but the small talk was still comfortable enough for Wonwoo to not want it to end.

"What brings you to Italy?", you asked once you made it closer to Wonwoo's final destination. He slapped himself mentally for not heading a different way when you suggested a walk, not wanting to make it back so quickly.

For a few moments, he pondered on an answer. You were a stranger he was likely to never see again, so lying to you about his presence in Italy probably wouldn't have any repercussions, but he also wanted to be honest. In the end, he opted for a mixture of truth and a lie.

"I'm on break with some friends", he responded, mirroring the question to you, "How about you? Are you from around?"

You nodded, arms folded due to the continuous chill surrounding you despite being cocooned in Wonwoo's sweater, "Yeah, I grew up a few cities north from here. I just moved nearby with a friend," you informed him, "So, does that mean you're leaving soon?"

Taking in a breath, he nodded, frowning without realizing, "I really like it here, but I'm only here for three more weeks," he replied, chuckling at the pout you gave him at his response.

"That sucks. It's rare to meet interesting tourists around here," you said, frowning at him as he mirrored your frown.

As you continued to walk and talk, Wonwoo couldn't help but feel intrigued by you and every bit of information about yourself you shared. Some may even call what he felt to be interest — you were pretty, talented, smart, nice, and these were traits he picked up on only within an hour of knowing you. The intrigue to continue to get to know you began to itch at him.

The fleeing thought of a crush crossed Wonwoo's mind, but he tossed it aside immediately, believing it to be childish and improbable. Wonwoo was 27, for God's sakes, the last time he'd had a crush had been when he was 16 years old. There was no time for crushes in his profession, much less during what would likely be the only vacation he'd get in the following ten years.

Eventually, you made it all the way to the street where Wonwoo's rented house was located, steps growing slower by the second as you approached the location. It'd be obvious to any spectator that neither of you wanted to end the conversation, but it had been a few hours since he'd first headed out, and he knew he had a schedule to attend to in the morning, so he opted to not make himself late the following day.

"Well," you started, stopping and facing him, "If for any reason you get bored during your stay, maybe you'll stop by the coast again? You know, only if you get bored," you rambled, biting your lip as you looked up at him expectantly.

With a laugh, he nodded, squinting his eyes in humorously, "I'll get bored again, don't worry," he reassured, wanting to be direct in letting you know he wanted to see you again.

You grinned widely, making him feel no option but to return your smile. A shock came over him when you suddenly offered him a hug, wrapping your arms around his middle as he let himself envelop you by your waist. The fit of your body against his own felt perfect, but sadly he was unable to really experience it due to the friendly nature of the hug, ending as soon as it began.

"Oh!", you suddenly exclaimed, "Your hoodie, let me-" you went to remove it, only to be stopped by Wonwoo.

"Keep it. I think I might get bored again tomorrow. You can give it back then," he suggested, surprising himself at being so forward.

With another grin, you nodded, offering him a shy smile and a wave of your hand, turning to leave as he stayed there, dumbfounded at the sudden shift his night had as soon as you took notice of him.

Standing there in silence, Wonwoo smiled at himself, feeling butterflies he had only ever seen people experience in the cheesy K-dramas Soonyoung and Dokyeom insisted on watching at the dorms during their earlier years. It was also a feeling reminiscent of the lyrics Jihoon was endlessly praised for by carats. Suddenly he understood it all, having never felt so giddy so soon at a mere interaction. Maybe this had been a meeting of fate. Only time would tell. As of now, Wonwoo found himself looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, and maybe then again and again after that.

Unfortunately for Wonwoo, the following day his mind was taken up entirely by the sudden insecure belief that he would never see you again. His mind went directly to thinking that you might've looked him up as soon as you went home, or that you'd disliked his shy and off-putting personality. What if you had simply been humoring him, only engaging in conversation because he had been in your way? Or maybe you didn't appreciate how easily he'd given up on speaking English, sticking to Korean while you spoke to him in your second language? He couldn't help but reprimand himself for not encouraging you to speak however you were most comfortable or for not bothering to ask you questions of his own.

Thinking back to it, the entire time you spent together was taken up by you trying to get him to open up and by asking him questions in order to keep the conversation going. Although Wonwoo had gone home that day with a warm heart and comfort in your interaction, he couldn't help feeling insecure the following day, worried that he'd go back to that same spot and find it empty, with you nowhere to be found.

As a seasoned idol, he had been able to hold back any apprehension he felt while camera, but he was sure his friends were able to tell he was off that day. Fortunately, his members knew him well enough to let him grovel on his own, simply engaging with him whenever he seemed to be in the mood.

The entire day went by in decades, or at least that's how it felt to Wonwoo. It felt kind of pathetic how much he was looking forward to seeing you, but it was also exhilarating (whilst still very anxiety inducing). Wonwoo hadn't realized what a rollercoaster of emotions a crush could become, especially so rapidly.

Unlike previous days, tonight Wonwoo left the rented home as soon as possible, rushing to find the empty street by the coast that he'd been frequenting since his arrival. For a moment he wondered if you'd seen him there beforehand or if that had coincidentally been your first time walking by there. He knew that if you had arrived there before him, he would've walked the other way, assuming he'd be disrupting your peace. Relief cruised through him knowing you hadn't felt the same way and chose to make conversation with him instead.

Now he stood there alone, earlier than the day prior as he hoped for your prompt arrival, if at all. Once there, he felt dumb at having so many doubts and building ten different scenarios in his head. A desire to be more casual about things like this cruised through his mind, but any further thought was interrupted by someone clearing their throat.

Turning around towards the noise, Wonwoo found you standing there, a large grin on your face as his hoodie swallowed you whole once more. You waved at him from the small distance away, lifting your arm high and swinging your wrist enthusiastically. Wonwoo returned a shier version of your gesture, waving shyly at you with a small smile on his face.

"Wonwoo!", you smiled happily, practically skipping to his side, "I didn't think you'd show," you laughed, "Thought maybe I talked too much last time and scared you off."

He smiled at this, thinking of his own dumb concerns about seeing you again and noting how dumb he'd been to think someone as nice as you would ghost him (and steal his hoodie in the process), "Of course not," he responded in English, hoping to hype himself up enough to speak a little more today than he had last time.

"Let me give you your hoodie," you said as you went to take it off, only to be stopped by Wonwoo just like last time, shaking his head and lifting his hands to prevent you from even removing it.

"Keep it. It's still cold today," he reasoned, truly just liking the way you had something of his and how largely it fit you (though it was also large on himself).

You eyed him curiously but with a smile, putting the arm you'd taken out of the hoodie back in it to upon his request, "You know, tourists usually get pickpocketed around here, but I don't think you need to worry about that, giving your stuff away for free and all," you joked, earning a chuckle and a matching eye smile from him.

"I don't mind it," he responded softly, "Think of it as a thank you for walking me around yesterday," he added, pondering as to how direct he should be about his interest in continuing to see you past the last two days.

"Ah," you said, "An exchange of goods and services, then?", you asked, beginning to walk in a different direction from last time, nodding at him to follow you, something which he embarrassingly did with an unnecessary urgency. Your giggles in response to his rush to follow you made it worth it.

"Sorry if I'm taking up your time," he apologized, realizing that you might've come meet him only due to the hoodie, somehow attempting to read past every other positive signal you'd given him so far.

"No! You're not, at all," you were quick to clarify, "I would've come back here to see if you came back anyways," you continued to admit sheepishly, "Plus, you need a local to show you around, don't you? And here I am, offering my services for free."

Somehow you were able to swerve around every ounce of self doubt that'd spring out of Wonwoo unexpectedly. Interacting with you made him feel weirdly needy, like he had to make it up to some sort of higher power for being able to have you pay him any mind. The lack of unpunished social interaction with a pretty girl had been so lacking in Wonwoo's life that he had no idea how to act around you. Sure, he was around pretty backup dancers and idols alike for a majority of the time, but the presence of cameras was always there, along with the controversy behind any interaction constantly present. Plus, his status as one of the most popular members of one of the top K-pop groups in the industry made it hard for him to ever find true friendship — or more, which was completely out of the picture for him.

For lack of a better term, you were a breath of fresh air for him, something which made him anxious. He knew this was just a summer crush, but he had every intention of enjoying it as much as he could.

Soon after your encounter, you'd dragged Wonwoo along with you to a few different places. It was nighttime, so not every suggestion of yours worked out perfectly. Within those two hours spent together, you'd shown Wonwoo a few cafe's you claimed your favorites (though sadly they were closed at that time), a pier nearby, and had taken him to a touristy area with street food. Thankfully, you'd done all the talking, also insisting on treating him to some traditional Italian street food.

Now with a full belly and a happy mind, Wonwoo walked side by side with you as he ate the ice cream you'd insisted on buying him. He felt like a sad excuse of a gentleman, but Na PD had taken all their money, which meant he was unable to fight you over who'd pay for any snacks tonight.

"So, how's the Italy experience so far?", you asked, shoulder bumping into his in a lighthearted manner.

He smiled sheepishly at you, "It's been nice. It's nice to have a change of pace and relax. Work's been, uh, very hectic these past months," he scratched the back of his neck, not sure how to open up without giving himself up.

"Oooh, that sounds interesting. What do you do? You give me a corporate vibe. Or maybe a streamer? Okay, those are complete opposites. Am I far off?", you asked, a joking tone in your voice.

He chuckled awkwardly, body language likely showing his discomfort. It's not that he wanted to lie to you, but he didn't want his profession to get in the way of whatever was happening between the two of you. In his years of being an idol, he noticed a drastic change in treatment before and after becoming successful. Even on the rare occasion in which someone was unaware of his status, their behavior would immediately change upon revealing his profession — whether this was a conscious or subconscious reaction, he wasn't sure.

These were the reasons why Wonwoo decided to do something he usually stood against.

He lied.

"I work in an entertainment company. Nothing too exciting. It just gets busy every so often," he replied as nonchalantly as possible, "How about you?"

He didn't feel good about lying, but in the grand scheme of things, he guessed it didn't really matter. In just a few weeks, he'd never see you again. Hell, maybe even today would be the last day to see you-

"Wow, really? That sounds fun," you interrupted his thoughts, "I'm a photographer, like I said yesterday. But for the most part I work at a museum nearby. Maybe you'd like to stop by one of these days? In the daytime, of course," you giggled.

Or maybe he'd be seeing you again a few days from now. Yeah, that worked perfectly well for him.

"R-really?", he couldn't help but smile, "I'd love to. When? I, uh, I might have plans with my friends, but I can make time whenever you're free."

"Maybe you should give me your number?", you smiled back, "That way we can come up with a time. It's getting late, I don't want to keep you."

Oh, right.

Pulling out his phone, he noticed it had suddenly turned into 12:16AM. Shit, had he really been walking around the villa with you for four hours?

"Shit, yeah, you're totally right. Let me walk you home? It's really late, I'd feel terrible just leaving you on your own."

Handing you his phone, you entered your number, texting yourself before handing it back with a smile.

"Can't say no to that. Come, it's this way," you grabbed onto his jacket-covered arm, making him stumble for a moment before clearing his throat and straightening his back, attempting to appear entirely unaffected

He was not expecting any sort of physical contact, but he couldn't lie in admitting he liked your arm wrapped around his own. This was platonic enough for him to justify it in his head — though the increased speed of his heartbeat was nothing but platonic.

After walking you back to your place (and forcing himself to deny your invitation inside with a mental slap to himself), he headed back to the villa in which he and his groupmates were situated. The pleased smile wouldn't leave his face, it was kind of embarrassing.

During your very extended goodbye (and a sly smile from you as you attempted to lure him inside), you'd convinced him to meet with you a week later, this time in the morning so you could show him around your workplace and maybe a few other places you thought he'd like. (In the meantime, he made sure he could still meet you nightly, of course). You'd called it a date, making Wonwoo have to bite back an excited smile. He knew the word 'date' in English didn't necessarily mean a romantic outing, but the thought still managed to excite him.

Managing to avoid bumping into any staff or members as he went to bed, he laid down to sleep. This proved kind of useless for the first few hours, however, as he continued to think about you as the night progressed.

He felt beyond silly. That was the best word he could use to describe this feeling. He felt overly excited at the mere thought of seeing you again tomorrow and the day after, and the day after, and the day aft- well, every day he could manage until you got bored of him.

It was difficult to not let his mind wander to the end of his trip. To the day in which he'd have to pack his bags and never see you again. But he wanted to enjoy his harmless crush as much as he could. Who knows, maybe one day Seventeen would land in Italy during on of their tours, and maybe then Wonwoo could drop by your door. Would you be angry if he suddenly popped up again two years from now with the confession of his true identity?

That brought up an entirely different set of questions. Would you swoon at his career? Would you tell him to fuck off for lying? Or maybe you'd just hate celebrities, you did seem like the type of person to keep to yourself. But! He was too! He just had to share certain parts of his life due to his career. Fuck. Would this even work? Was he just giving himself the false illusion of pursuing something with you.

God, he was getting far too ahead of himself. He'd known you for a total of eight hours, give or take, yet he was already wondering how a relationship could possibly work out. He didn't even have any reason to believe you liked him back.

A few hours were spent like this, with a constant back and forth in Wonwoo's brain, overthinking issues that were entirely nonexistent. When slumber finally took him, he was happy to awaken the following day to renewed (and thankfully much less erratic) thoughts of you.

"So he asked for permission to cheat and still lost?", you laughed, hand covering the pretty smile Wonwoo had grown to adore these past days.

Maybe one day he'd grow the balls to tell you just how much he liked it, maybe inspire you into letting him see it to its fullest extent at all times.

For now, all he could do was laugh along with you and mentally high-five himself for being the cause of that smile in this moment.

"This was Seungkwan, right? The super extroverted one?", you asked once your laughter subsided.

Ah, yes.

Within the twelve times in which Wonwoo had met up with you, he'd managed to practically give you his entire life story, tales about his members included. He'd left out the grand part in which he was a in a worldwide famous K-Pop group, but everything else had been entirely truthful.

Each night spent together ran for four to five hours, giving him ample time to fill you in on his life while you did the same in return. The language barrier was practically nonexistent all throughout, with him continuing to speak Korean and the occasional sentence in English and you doing the reverse.

Your conversations sometimes had him wanting to take on English as a full-time hobby, as he occasionally missed a word or two, but you were always so understanding and never minded slowing down or rewording yourself. He, on the other hand, was lucky enough that you never seemed to have trouble in understanding him. It made him feel bad sometimes, as if you had to put all the effort into your talks, but you'd reassured him immediately after he'd voiced this concern to you.

With just a little over a week of knowing you, Wonwoo was now entirely sure — he had feelings for you.

Was it too far fetched to confirm such a thing with less than two weeks of knowing a person? Maybe. But Wonwoo just adored everything about you. You were nice, funny, understanding, you shared a lot of his hobbies and beliefs, and god, were you gorgeous.

Sure, he would not call himself in love, but he knew that if he had unlimited access to you, he'd surely fall as deep as a man can.

With these past meetings, it had been somewhat established that you'd keep contact after his departure. It was a casual agreement (though entirely giddy for Wonwoo). These past few days had already been spent with constant texting throughout the daytime, which made Wonwoo excited in advance.

Tomorrow was the day in which you'd finally have a daytime date together, a short tour at the museum you worked at. After having to reschedule with you a few times, — coming up with lame excuses as to why he was busy without revealing his true profession — you had finally settled for tomorrow. The producers of the show had granted all the members three free days without any single ounce of recording. The first had been wasted before he'd met you, with this being the second one, and the third one likely to be used on you once again.

It had been difficult to ward off his members when a few of them had attempted to make plans with him for the day without bringing to light what had been keeping him so busy night after night, but he had somehow managed. Plus, he was pretty sure a few of them had some sort of idea as to why he was so occupied as of late, but since none of them had directly questioned him, he continued to enjoy you in private.

"So, am I ever meeting these friends? They're the ones you're on vacation with, right?", you asked after the laughed had died down a bit.

Wonwoo scratched the back of his neck, arm instinctively pulling you closer to him — yeah, the physical contact had gotten even more personal through the passing of days, something which absolutely did not make his heart race like crazy. Your arms wrapped tighter around his own arm, aiding in pulling yourself closer.

"They're, uh, busy, but I'd love that! I think you'd get along really well."

And it was true! They were busy. And he did believe you'd fit right in. But it was just too much of a risk right now. He didn't want his secret airing itself out so soon. Maybe it'd be easier to tell you about it all when he was back in Korea, when there was no risk of you telling him to fuck off right to his face.

"God, I can't believe you have to work even on vacation," you pouted, "Your job sucks!"

Well, he wouldn't say sucks, but he got exactly where you were coming from, with the lack of context about what his job was and all.

"It's fine. It still gives me time to hang out with you," he smiled.

You returned his smile, snuggling closer to his arm as you walked side by side, much to his heart's chagrin. As you approached your place, your hands became more and more curious, occasionally traveling down to his own and gracing your fingers through those of his. You never actually intertwined them, but the playful touch still had his heart fluttering.

In these past nights of knowing you, he'd come to find that you were, in fact, single. This piece of information should not have excited him as much as it did, but it couldn't help but alter his perception of your interactions. It was easier to interpret some of your words, your touches, as flirtatious.

Wonwoo was used to touchiness from his members, but the tentative and playful contact you'd have with him was entirely different from what he was used to. It was far too reminiscent of every shy more-than-friends-but-not-yet-lovers stage he'd had with girls in the past. The fleeting looks, the multiple attempts you'd had at inviting him into your home without any blindly veiled excuse for coffee, the constant proximity, the smiles, the wandering eyes, it was all indicative to attraction.

That, or Wonwoo could officially declare himself as socially inept as they come.

Arriving at the front door of the small home you'd been residing in with some friends was always the worst part of your nightly outings. After the first few times in which he walked you home, you had developed a habit of refusing to let go of his arm. You'd lean against the door frame leading into your home, giving him a look and intertwining your fingers with his own as you silently attempted to pull him inside. You'd sometimes even go as far as asking if he'd like to continue the night, that you didn't want to wait another 24 hours to see him (which absolutely killed him).

You'd never said nor implied anything explicit, nor did Wonwoo genuinely think you were meaning to incite anything further than maybe a more intimate conversation in a more private setting, but he couldn't help if his mind just went there. He wanted to imagine a future in which he'd be able to go into your home for that motive, but the mere thought made him blush. He wasn't the type to have sex so casually, but he felt he'd connected with you emotionally so seamlessly in such little time that he could do so physically with a similar ease.

Tonight you went along with your usual routine. You walked all the way to your front door, with Wonwoo halting a few steps prior but letting you drag his arm in your direction. Turning around, you leaned against the frame and smiled at him, fingers reaching his own and toying with them a bit.

"What can I do to convince you to come up?", you asked, tilting your head to the side and biting your lip.

You'd both shared some wine tonight. Neither of you were drunk, but loose enough to relax your tongues. It wasn't surprising to Wonwoo when you asked him so directly. However, it still made heat rush to his cheeks.

Specially so when you took a step forward, letting go of his hand in favor of wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, incidentally making him lean down a bit. Your smile didn't leave your lips, appearing entirely too pleased with the situation.

Wonwoo gulped, hands naturally reaching down to your waist and sighing internally when he felt the contour of your body. He had to restrain from letting his fingers squeeze at the bare skin that laid between your shorts and your top. It was the smallest sliver, but his hands ached to reach up and uncover just it a little more.

"I promise to be on my best behavior," you spoke up again, biting your lip through the ever so present smile on your face.

Wonwoo knew he couldn't go in there with you. He knew that both you and him would convince yourselves of doing more than innocent things with each other under the excuse that his departure was approaching. It wasn't as if he didn't want you. He did. This was the fastest and easiest he'd found himself craving someone.

The issue was that he could not risk marring your current relationship with sex. It felt dirty to think of fucking you and then flying off to another country just over a week later. No, he needed to know things could go a long way before taking that step. He liked you too much to trick you into thinking this could be like any other long distance affair.

But under all these complex emotions, Wonwoo was nothing more than a man. His need to be close to you could only be held back so much.

Burying his face in your neck, he closed his eyes and sighed, breathing you in. His hands wrapped all the way around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Your own hands went to his hair, running through it and aiding in pressing him into your neck. Shyly, his lips traced the skin of your neck, sighing at the scent of your perfume.

It started with feather-light kisses pressed intermittently to your skin, but quickly evolved to hotter, denser ones. He hummed into your skin, almost moaning at how your back arched right under his palms, neck tilting aside so he could kiss you more.

"You know I want you," he breathed, "I don't even have to say it, it's embarrassingly obvious. Just, fuck, I can't ... Not if I have to leave you right after."

You separated yourself from him just enough to look up at him, offering him a close-lipped and shy smile.

"Can I get a kiss, at least?", you murmured with your eyes glued to his lips.

He didn't have to answer, already closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours.

As much as he would've wanted to keep it chaste and PG, his mammalian instincts took over without a warning. His mouth opened, tongue peeking out to seek your own. A single moan from you was enough for the kiss to grow heated.

It was borderline perverse the way in which Wonwoo kissed you, and he was well aware. There was spit, knocking of teeth, groans swallowed by one another (and maybe some hardness forming in Wonwoo's pants). Luckily for you both, no spectators were present late into the night in your small neighborhood, or else they would've been privy to you practically fucking each other's mouths with your tongues.

Wonwoo had to hold back from pushing you up against the nearest wall and humping you until finding completion inside his pants. More so did he have to hold back when you finally pulled away for air and gave him those eyes that he knew were begging from him to come upstairs with you.

With one last, but this time chaste, kiss, he wished you goodnight, chuckling at your petulant pout. Your antics lasted mere moments before you hugged him goodbye, letting him know about your excitement to see him tomorrow morning for your first daytime date.

He went back to his villa that day with an irremovable smile stuck on his face (and some slight discomfort in his pants).

Arriving at the villa, Wonwoo was immediately met with Mingyu and Dokyeom drinking together as they sat on a recliner located in the patio. Wonwoo had initially hoped to pass through the patio and onto his room without being perceived, but unfortunately both boys had been hyperaware to his presence as soon as be stepped foot in the premises.

Calling out to him with what Wonwoo was sure was tipsiness bordering on drunkness, he winced at their gestures for him to join them, groaning inwardly before walking up to them.

It wasn't as if Wonwoo didn't want to hang out with his friends, but he had already drank a bit prior to arriving home and did not want any encouragement in continuing — especially knowing he had to record for the show early the next morning.

"Where're you coming from so smiley?", teased Seokmin, pulling at Wonwoo's arm with a joking flirtatious smile.

"Disappearing alone at night for extended hours ... Are we going to need to draw up an NDA for you?", added Mingyu, canines bared due to his teasing smile.

"Shut up," he grumbled, swatting Seokmin's hand away from him in fake anger, but unable to completely hide the grin he'd had on his face since seeing you.

"Oh! Did you see that?", Seokmin gasped, slapping Mingyu's chest to get his attention, only earning a groan from the man at the sudden impact, "He's smiling! It's true! You were with a girl!"

"That much was obvious," added Mingyu, "The real question is who is it?"

With both boys facing him with expectant looks on their faces, Wonwoo had no option but to groan.

"We're going to drop this, actually. And we're all going to go to sleep since we have to record tomorrow morning," he declared, dragging both boys by their arms in encouragement to stand up.

Groaning in unison, the two large men allowed Wonwoo to push them in the direction of the entrance with him following close behind. He needed tomorrow's recording to go by quickly in order to run straight over to you.

After battling with a few other members who teased him over the pleased look on his face (was he that obvious?), he finally headed to bed. As per usual, you were in his thoughts, but some anxiety now joined in in the mixture of emotions he usually felt after a nightly outing with you.

It was hard not to feel nervous for what he interpreted to be your first date. Except that no such thing was ever confirmed by either of you. As far as he was aware, tomorrow was just you showing a lonely foreigner around one of the many popular sights in the city.

No part of Wonwoo believed you'd lead him on on purpose, but deep inside him he felt that he might've made everything up in his head. There was no way you'd kiss him like that if you didn't feel something for him, right? Or well, he had been the one to initiate that kiss (one that was uncharacteristically nasty, but insanely hot). Had he gone too far? Fuck, maybe sticking his tongue in your mouth had been too much ...

His mind was going a mile a minute.

He decided to chalk these thoughts up to be the usual insecurities he felt late into the night. Everyone knew that late night thoughts were always misleading, and so he hoped this was one of those cases.

The following morning, Wonwoo spent in a constant state of anxiety.

Not only was he nervous to see you right after your first kiss (a rather nasty one at that), but he kept panicking that the recording would run too long and he would miss you altogether. On top of that, he had the usual first date nerves. He kept debating on what to wear (not that he had ample options considering he was not allowed to pack before getting kidnapped), what to bring you, whether he should take you elsewhere after the tour of the museum.

But luckily for Wonwoo, most of his worries died down one by one.

As it usually happened, the recording ended right at the expected time, leaving Wonwoo with more than enough time to choose an outfit and do his hair just right — he even had time for a quick stop to get you some flowers.

Your reaction to last night's kiss had also not been as terrible as he expected. On the contrary, you welcomed him with a sweet peck on his lips, wrapping your arms around his own as you liked to do before thanking him for the flowers.

Your first 'date' also went amazingly. The tour of your workplace had been fun and filled with expert information you'd memorized to the letter as the usual tour guide at the establishment. After the quick tour, you had even insisted you and Wonwoo take a walk to a nearby street food vendor so you could extend your time together.

All in all, the evening went incredibly well. Well enough that Wonwoo didn't think to worry about what was different about tonight's outing, which was the daytime aspect of it all.

Completely unsuspecting, the last thing Wonwoo would've expected was to bump into any of his members while he enjoyed a shared smoothie with you.

Far too content in your company, he took no notice of the three nosy men watching him from a distance, stopping in their tracks and discretely pointing at him while they whispered scandalously at one another.

Their whispers in Korean were loud enough to catch his attention, making him look their way while you were distracted looking at pretty items set out by street vendors. Looking in their direction, Wonwoo's eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he began to mouth expletives at them, scolding at them to leave him alone.

The three boys at hand, Jeonghan, Joshua and Seungkwan, just so happened to be some of the nosiest men he'd ever met, meaning that be already knew how this interaction would end.

With smirks in their faces, they headed over to him, eyeing you before throwing secret smiles and winks at Wonwoo.

"Wonwoo! Long time no see!," began Joshua, his voice calling your attention and causing you to join Wonwoo in facing them.

"Who's the pretty girl?", asked Seungkwan in Korean before stretching his hand out to you and introducing himself in English.

You introduced yourself back with a bright smile, "You can speak Korean, I understand," you added afterwards, causing eyebrows to lift.

"Pretty and smart. You pick them well, Nonu," joined Jeonghan, offering you a handshake of his own along with an introduction.

Wonwoo, annoyed at his friends, cleared his throat, "These are the friends I was telling you about. The ones I'm on vacation with," he made sure to enunciate the correct words, attempting to give his friends a hint of what he'd told you about their situation.

"Oh, yeah! I remember their names. You guys work with Wonwoo at the entertainment company, right?," you inadvertently finished the thought for them.

They all caught on pretty quick, nodding along while they forced smiles from their faces at Wonwoo's omission of the truth.

To be fair, with only five days left in Italy, Wonwoo had done very well in concealing such a huge aspect of his life. He was surprised he'd managed to go along with it for this long.

"That's us," replied Joshua, "But he's told us nothing about you. How'd you two meet?", there was a teasing tone in his voice, one that was so subtle only Wonwoo and his friends could take note of it.

You explained your first meeting, elbowing Wonwoo halfheartedly for keeping you a secret from his friends. Wonwoo joined in to add some details of your dynamic, but neither of you ever stated a label to describe you.

Unfortunately for Wonwoo, your outing was completely taken over by the three men, leaving him as a side character to your encounter. You took a lot of interest to his friends, which was the only silver lining of it all, Wonwoo supposed. He was happy to see how well you got along, but was also frustrated that some of his last moments with you were being used up by someone else.

When they finally left you alone (after a lot of subtle insistence from Wonwoo), the two of you were finally left to yourselves as per usual. It was already nighttime by then, however, so Wonwoo didn't have much time with you before having to head back to the villa with the guys.

As per usual, you had a few street snacks and walked arm to arm, content with the comfortable silence offered by the city. You'd each interrupt the silence with the occasional short-lived conversation, but it was still just as enjoyable.

It continued like this up until you suddenly stopped whilst on the way to the usual path Wonwoo took to walk you home.

"Wonwoo?", you asked, slight reluctance in your voice.

"Yeah?", he hummed, looking at you with slight worry yet sincerity in his eyes.

You swallowed before speaking. Your brows were furrowed with what seemed to be worry and your overall demeanor seemed less bright than usual.

"Will we see each other again after you leave? Or is this just a summer thing?", you bit your lip as you asked.

Wonwoo couldn't help but feel some sadness at your words.

Every part of him wanted to see you again. He knew a long distance relationship would be risky and difficult, specially with his day job, but he wanted to at least try. Maybe one day you could come see him? Or he could come back here? He still had to figure out how to ease you into even finding out about his lifestyle, but he trusted that you'd be understanding.

He stood in front of you and grabbed onto your hands reassuringly, bringing them up to his lips for a light kiss on the back of the palm of each. You smiled at this, silently understanding his reassurance.

"I'd take you back with me right now if I could," he began, "But if you ever happen to drop by Korea, I'd have to return the favor of showing you around," he ended with a smile.

"That sounds like an invitation for me to give you a surprise visit."

"Please give me a surprise visit. Give me all the surprise visits," he bit his lip in amusement.

It was agreed then, though hidden in jest, that this was not the last of you. This summer fling was the beginning to something Wonwoo ached to explore since the moment he met you.

His departure away from you and the perfect vacation was not easy. No tears were shed, but one last chaste kiss was had. It was one of the only kisses shared by you outside of the one that almost led him to his knees, begging to take you upstairs (though he was sure you wouldn't have objected).

After your chance meeting with Joshua, Jeonghan and Seungkwan, it wasn't late until the rest of the guys heard the news. His last few days at the villa with the boys were spent with constant teasing about Wonwoo's 'summer fling' as they liked to call it. Wonwoo had to hold back from correcting them, chuckling to himself at knowing it'd just provoke their teasing to increase tenfold.

Immediately after landing in Korea, Wonwoo turned his phone back on to find a message from you telling him to have a good flight and call when he arrived home signed off by a kissy emoji — a very important detail to add, according to Wonwoo.

His response to you came in the form of a short greeting, though your response after that morphed into an incoming call. Wonwoo suddenly remembered the seven hour time difference, realizing it wasn't too big.

Picking up the call, he mentally prepared himself to hear your voice again.

"Hi," he could hear the smile in your voice.

"Hi," he returned, shy, "I was kind of worried you wouldn't call," he found himself admitting.

"What, why?" your smile was replaced by a pout, he could tell.

"I don't know. Just thought maybe I was just a summer fling type of thing, that you were just too nice to let me down in person," he couldn't help but think back to the words of the members.

"It's too late to get rid of me, Wonwoo. Should've given me a fake name and number to ward me off."

"Maybe I did. Maybe it was all a lie," he joked, though still realizing it was sort of a half-truth.

"Oh my god, don't say that!", you giggled, "I can't see your face, you'll make me think you're being serious."

"Was I not obvious enough about how crazy I am about you last I saw you?"

He knew he had absolutely not been obvious about it. He was too shy in person. The boldness was only coming out due to the lack of interpersonal interaction.

"No. I'm pretty sure I was the one who was obvious," you smiled again (he was so sure of it).

"Well, I'll have to make sure to let you know next time I see you."

"Oh? Is that a date, then? We've known each other for a month and I only got one date out of you. That's kind of mean of you, don't you think?"

Okay, you clearly weren't smiling anymore. You were teasing him, and Wonwoo could very well remember that look on your face any time you knew you had the upper hand on him.

Wonwoo bit his lip through the grin he could just not get out of his face, "I'll take you on as many dates as you want as soon as we're in the same country again," he promised and meant it.

"Is that a way to convince me to get on a plane to Korea right now? Because it's working."

He wished that were true.

"I'll catch a flight back to you the moment my schedule allows, I promise," he hoped the desperation to see you in his voice wasn't pathetically obvious.

"We'll see who gets to the other first," you challenged.

Wonwoo pondered on the thought of you in his home country. He still remembered the many times you'd 'threatened' to drop in on him without warning. The thought made him nervous, but part of him kind of hoped it was more than a joke to express your excitement to see him after you were a few countries apart. The reality of you coming to Korea would be slightly more grim, however, considering that it'd be virtually impossible for him to hide his career from you here the way he had in Italy. Being frank, he was pretty surprised you hadn't somehow figured it out yet.

Your call continued for about an hour before you caught on to the tiredness in his voice and insisted he go to sleep. After some half-hearted insistence to stay on call (only to be refuted by you), he finally hung up and headed over to bed.

This routine of calling and texting multiple times a day continued through the following few months. Despite his busy schedules, Wonwoo managed to make time for you almost every single day. The time difference actually ended up working in Wonwoo's favor, seeing as by the time he was done with his day yours was barely starting.

Much to Wonwoo's dismay, the way in which you became official was much less romantic than he would've loved to provide to you, but only a few weeks into your daily calls and his heart just insisted he needed to make things official. He had been scared as soon as the question left his mouth, but your enthusiastic agreement alleviated him extremely. He felt an unexplored sort of giddiness at having you officially be his girlfriend.

Occasionally you'd whine about missing him, something which he soon learned to tame through either teasing or reassurance (it depended on his mood). His confidence when speaking to you grew through the hours of calls and face-times shared between you, along with your more frequent use of Korean when speaking with him. He was so smitten with you, though, that he'd begun taking both English and Italian lessons on his rare time off. Maybe he could surprise you with that someday.

Some months of pure long-distance bliss were spent like this. The guys had been made aware of his relationship and were nothing less than supportive, though the occasional worry was brought up by a few members about his lack of communication when it came to his career. This worried Wonwoo too, but an uncharacteristically selfish part of himself was just too scared of the consequences behind it to break the news any time soon.

It was unfortunate for Wonwoo that that decision would ultimately not fall down to him.

Wonwoo woke up that day ready for a grueling day of practice just like any other.

Most days seemed to blend together as of late. No overseas schedules seemed to be in the horizon for the foreseeable future, which meant that Wonwoo's job for the time being mostly consisted on working on future comebacks in advance and a few shoots here and there.

His life had been pretty menial for a while (at least as menial as an idol's life could be). Your calls continued to fit perfectly with his schedule, and he hadn't had to miss one in weeks.

Four months into your relationship (and about six since knowing you) and you continued to go very strong. Wonwoo had released bits and pieces of his career to you at varying times, hoping to somehow ease you into the knowledge that he had omitted a large truth of his life from you. He'd been open about working in entertainment, having producing experience, working an unpredictable schedule, and traveling a lot. Although these were all true, he still felt an itch at his heart bugging at him for not just coming out and telling you 'I'm a K-Pop idol with millions of fans! I can't date publicly because of my job! I am far from home almost 90% of the time! My entire life is watched at all times!' Perhaps it was the knowledge that that information was incredibly intimidating. But it was also due to how far he had dug himself into this lie.

Wonwoo was surprised you hadn't looked up his name online by now. You'd exchanged instagrams with each other (though, to be fair, he had given you his private, friends and family only, account), but a nosier person than you would've already typed Wonwoo onto some search engine and found him to be the very first result accompanied by hours of content related to him and his members. Part of him was scared you'd actually do it one day and proceed to ghost him due to either the pressure of his career or the blatant lie he'd told you (and kept up) upon meeting you.

Today was one of the many days in which this thought crept into his head. Some days it bothered him more than others, which was why he had already set up a plan to go back down to Italy as soon as fashion week began next month and finally tell you in person. He owed you that much.

For now he'd just let it go, hoping you'd find it in yourself to forgive him for not being open with you from the start while also being happy at the prospect of seeing you again.

This happiness, sadly, did not last Wonwoo for too long. It all started going downhill when you'd called him earlier than normal that same morning.

It was odd. It was about 3AM in Italy when he'd gotten the call. Not one to ever miss a chance to talk to you, though, he picked up without hesitation. This was when everything started crumbling down.

"Wonwoo!", you exclaimed excitedly into the phone.

"Babe? Hi. It's so late over there, what's up?"

The usage of pet names was still new, but he couldn't help in giving into it with no hesitation.

"Nope, don't think so. It's bright and sunny right now."

"Hmm? Are you outside? This late? What are you up to, pretty?", he smiled as he said so, amused yet confused at your words.

"Wanna guess where I am?", the smile could still be heard in your voice.

"Heading home, I'm hoping? It's late, baby. You got a ride?", he couldn't help but continue to express concern. You weren't much the type to be out further than 1AM or so.

"Wonwoo!," you interrupted, "God you're so difficult to surprise- I'm in Korea!"

His former steps halted the moment you spoke, leaving him standing in the middle of a hallway at the Hybe building as he headed to his following destination. You were wrong. Apparently he was very easy to surprise.

"You're- what?"

"Surprise! They're remodeling the museum so I took up a writing job online in the meantime. It's all remote, so I thought why not come visit you. Excited?", he could hear the kiddish excitement in your voice.

"Baby, what? You're here? Wait, where? Are you joking? You're really here?", he looked to his surroundings as if you'd suddenly spawn there.

"Well not here here. I'm at the airport still. I was hoping to surprise you at your apartment, but then I remembered I don't actually have your address," you giggled, "Any way you'd give a girl a lift over to your place? I promise to be good."

The flirtatious turn to your tone almost made Wonwoo forget about all the implications that came with you being in Korea. He had half the mind to leave work right now and run into your arms as he often saw in romantic movies upon a reunion of lovers.

That's when he remembered who he was and where he was currently standing. He had more than enough flexibility as a senior idol to take off for the day and whisk you off your feet and over to his apartment. However, it was the trip in between that proved problematic seeing as Jeon Wonwoo would easily be spotted at the airport, especially if he had a pretty girl in his arms while there.

But this thought didn't stop Wonwoo from happily agreeing to picking you up. You were the girl he was in love with, having traveled all the way to him in hopes of being received with open arms. There was no timeline in which he'd ever say no to you.

"I- I'll pick you up," he stuttered, unable to mask his nerves, "I'll be there in twenty minutes, okay, baby? Can you come meet me in the parking lot? I won't be able to get out of the car. I- I'll explain later, okay?", he attempted.

You hesitated for a moment before responding, "Uh, okay, Nonu. Whatever works for you. Tell me you're excited to see me, at least?", you encouraged with a pout somehow noticeable in your tone.

"You have no idea how happy I am. God, I can't wait to see you, angel," he couldn't help the dulcet tone that took over his voice. He probably looked like a freak to any staff member passing by.

"You better be. I don't travel to another country just for any man."

"I'm the luckiest man," he entertained you (whilst fully believing the statement), "Stay where you are, okay? I'll text you where to meet me once I'm there. Be good and don't talk to any strangers," he couldn't help but warn worriedly.

"Yes, dad," you jokingly mocked, "See you soon, Nonu. Love you, mwuah!" you did a kissy sound at the phone, demanding one back from him before finally hanging up.

Wonwoo practically ran over to his manager after that, asking for the keys to the car in which he was usually driven while in Korea. He explained the situation to anyone who needed to be privy to it before heading over to you, anxious yet excited to see you. Once there, he parked somewhere easy enough to locate and called you in order to direct you to his current location.

The moment he saw you from a distance, he couldn't help but let a smile take over his entire face. It hurt from how big and annoyingly there it was, but he hadn't felt this giddy in months. The only moment that beat it was when you also noticed his car, practically running to it with your suitcases dragging behind you. It took everything in Wonwoo not to get out of the car, which served as a reminder of the uncomfortable conversation that was to come. All was forgotten, though, the moment you entered the unlocked car and immediately jumped at Wonwoo to the best of your ability inside the small space on the front seat.

"Nonu!", you squealed, wrapping your arms around him and practically making your way over to his lap. Your door was still open and your suitcases sitting right behind you, but your priorities were clear.

Wonwoo's arms wrapped right around you, squeezing you against his chest as he nuzzled his head into your hair, humming at the warmth you immediately provided him with.

"Missed you so much. You have no idea, pretty girl."

"I have some idea," you hummed back, attempting to pull away but being denied by a tightening of Wonwoo's arms around you, to which you responded with a giggle.

"Give me one more minute," he murmured.

After what was easily more than a minute, you finally pulled away, creating enough distance to look into his eyes with a smile that mirrored his own.

"I want to kiss you, but I'm also hyperaware of my suitcases being stolen," you giggled, "You guys got any pickpockets in Korea?"

He laughed, "Get your stuff in the car, pretty. I'll kiss you all you want when I get you back home."

"Oooh, home? Am I staying at your place then? Stealing me away already?"

"Yup, I'm holding you hostage for as long as you're in Korea," he said nonchalantly as he started the car after you'd logged your stuff onto the backseat.

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

To Wonwoo's fortune, his car's windows were tinted from outside view, which meant he did not have to worry about anyone seeing you with him. He was also lucky enough to not have bumped into any Seventeen related billboards or such that may have given away his identity. But despite this, Wonwoo knew he had to break the news to you sooner rather than later. During his ride over to the airport he'd decided to tell you as soon as he got you settled at his apartment. There was no use in delaying it.

"Woah, how rich are you? This place looks so expensive," you wowed at him as soon as you stepped foot in his and Mingyu's shared luxury loft.

He chuckled and dismissed your compliment, opting instead to move your suitcases to the side so he could finally envelop you in a proper hug. There were no complains from you, or at least that's what he got from the sigh of contentment you released against his chest at his embrace. Swaying you back and forth a bit, he pressed you impossibly close to him, taking his time to enjoy the faint smell of your perfume that had somehow survived your flight. You had a warmth to you, probably brought from the nap he was sure you'd taken during your flight. It felt far too nice to hold you like this.

"God, you missed me so bad," you teased, chin propping itself on his chest and staring up at him with a grin.

"Not gonna deny it," he murmured, pecking your lips when you puckered them up at him.

Falling into domesticity with you felt completely natural to Wonwoo. He was slightly surprised at the realization that he no longer felt the same nerves around you that he did back in Italy. It might've been the tons of hours spent on facetime calls, but it was still unexpected to Wonwoo. You simply brought a brand new level of comfort to him.

"Well, kiss me about it!", you pouted, continuing to pucker your lips to demand more kisses.

Leaning down, he finally captured your lips in the way he had been wanting to since that tipsy kiss back in Italy. His hands held onto the small of your back while yours found a home in the treces of his hair. You'd mentioned you liked the length, which had been a great contributor in his denial to do any changes to it when his stylists suggested so upon his return to Korea.

The kiss grew more heated than Wonwoo had planned, but he couldn't help himself in wanting to enjoy you while he had the chance. The two of you were finally together in the daylight, behind closed doors and alone. This was a circumstance you had never had the privilege of being under.

It was you who began walking backwards, Wonwoo believed, but he wasn't too sure seeing as his feet followed you anyway. He made sure your head didn't bump into the wall once you'd reached it, but his focus was quickly taken right back to you at the increase in proximity. Practically molded into each other, you continued to explore each other's mouths with a mixture of frustration and need.

It was quite reminiscent of your first kiss. It was heavy and loaded with yearning. Humming into your mouth, Wonwoo gasped when he felt you readjust his hands so he could feel you up in ways he'd been imagining but did not think he'd have the balls to do once he found himself in your presence. Taking note of the silent consent, he let his hands enjoy the curves of your body and swallow any moans that left you as a result.

"Nonu," you mumbled when his lips began trailing down, teeth gracing lightly at your skin, "Should we go to your room?"

He didn't respond, instead pressing a few more kisses on you before taking hold of your hand to lead you into the couch located in the living room— he had no headspace to make it to his room. Once there, you became immediately excited to push him on the couch, straddling his hips as he say at the edge of it and continuing your ministrations.

"Is this okay?", you sighed into his lips upon beginning to feel up the skin under his shirt, fingers itching to fully remove it.

A nod from him was seemingly all you needed to begin unbuttoning his shirt while Wonwoo himself allowed his own hands to explore the skin under your clothes.

Everything was happening so fast, but neither you nor Wonwoo had it in you to stop. There had been tension between you every night you met up in Italy, and somehow this tension only continued to build with the distance suddenly placed between you. If it had been up to Wonwoo, he would've taken this all the way to the end, and then some. Already with a fully unbuttoned shirt and your own gone altogether, Wonwoo was ready to bury his head in your bra-covered breasts and let you grind on him until his brain was complete mush.

But then you suddenly stopped.

"Hmph," you grunted between kisses, pulling away and looking over his shoulder with a muted gasp. You pointed behind him as you halted the movements of your hips while Wonwoo was still on a daze caused by your lips.

"What's that?"

With some effort, Wonwoo turned his body as much as he could, having to maneuver you on top of him as he zeroed in on what you were looking at and- fuck.

"Is that you?," you got up, heading over to the object that had caught your attention, "Is that Elle magazine?"

By then, you'd gotten off him altogether, walking over to the section of his living room that held the small make-shift shrine of magazines Mingyu had insisted on making a few weeks ago. This wall had multiple magazines hung on it, with a majority of them being Mingyu's while the rest were some of Wonwoo's.

"Is that Kim Mingyu? Wait, shit. Your roommate– Your Mingyu is the Kim Mingyu? Wonwoo, what the fuck?"

You were now standing next to the shrine, only donning a bra as you looked to Wonwoo with immense confusion in your face all while he continued to feel a tingle on his lips due to your previous activities.

Wonwoo had told you the names of all his friends throughout your time of knowing each other, blindly hoping that you'd be none the wiser — which you'd been. So he was slightly shocked at the sudden realization that you somehow made the connection between his roommate Mingyu and the Kim Mingyu currently displayed multiple times on his wall.

"You know Mingyu?", he asked dumbfounded, clearly not focusing on the actual matter at hand.

"I saw he was at Paris fashion week and on some billboards-," you interrupted yourself with a shake of your head, "That's not important!" you went to grab at one of the many magazines displaying Wonwoo, "You're on a magazine cover? Wonwoo, are you ... Oh my God, you're- are you an idol?", you finally asked.

To Wonwoo's dismay, your shock did not seem like the positive kind that he'd grown used to any time people found out he was part of a popular idol group. No, your shock seemed more so frustrated, angry even.

Getting up, his hands went to halfheartedly cover up his chest by closing his unbuttoned shirt before carefully making his way to you.

"I- I'll explain, okay? Can we sit down? I'll answer any questions you have, just sit with me," he practically pleaded, hesitant in extending his hand for you to take and sighing in relief when you accepted it, letting him lead you back to the couch, sitting side by side this time.

Your body turned to his, "Wonwoo-"

"Yeah, I'm an idol," he began, giving up on his ruse, "I'm in a group called Seventeen with Mingyu. I, uh, I was recording a variety show while we were in Italy. That's why I could only ever see you at night. That's also why I couldn't get out of the car when I picked you up," he let it out all at once.

You sat there in silence, eyebrows raised in shock and mouth adorned with a slight frown. Your appearance didn't give Wonwoo a feeling of anger, but rather something worse — disappointment.

At your silence, Wonwoo cleared his throat and continued.

"I didn't mean to lie to you. When I met you, I was sure I'd never see you again after those first few days, but then we kept meeting, and, and then we kissed and started, well, our relationship, I guess. Before I knew it, I ended up liking you far more than I'd ever allowed myself to like anyone before," he rambled, hands anxiously squeezing your own every so often, "I thought that I'd be ruining what we had if I told you the truth and I'd end up scaring you off or that you wouldn't see me the same anymore," he took a deep breath before continuing, "But I'm sorry. I never should've kept this from you. Specially not for as long as I did. I should've trusted you with this and not blindsided you like this, and I'm so, so sorry."

By the time he finished you were still silent, looking down at your intertwined hands rather than at him and with a sad look on your face. Wonwoo decided to give you a few moments before he attempted to speak again, hoping that his apology might at least be the beginning of him making it up to you.

After what felt like hours, but was likely mere seconds of silence, you finally landed your gaze on him, gulping before speaking up.

"Wonwoo, I- Did you think I could be that shallow as to care about you being an idol?", you sounded hurt as you said it, though you continued to give him the privilege of holding your hand.

"No, no, it's nothing like that, I-"

"Then why didn't you trust me? I understand not telling me while we were in Italy, but, now? We've been doing long distance for months. We've said I love you to each other. Did I- did I do something to make you not trust me?"

"No!", he couldn't help but feel exasperated.

He cleared his throat, wanting nothing more than to remain calm and show you how apologetic he was the best that he possibly could. Squeezing your hands once more, he shifted on the couch again, propped leg touching your own as he pleaded with his eyes.

"It wasn't about you. I need you to please understand that. Nothing about you made me distrust or want to lie to you," he took a breath, "This was all me. I was insecure and panicked and ended up lying to you in the process. I should've told you. There's no fixing my mistake, but I want you to know that I love you and I trust you. Completely. I was going to tell you as soon as we made plans for you to come visit me, or as soon as I went back to Italy, whichever came first. I- I couldn't do this over the phone. I owed you that much, at least."

Wonwoo had said his piece. He liked to think he was good with words, writing them for a living and all, but with you sitting in front of him, distrust in your eyes, he felt like he'd spoken all the words imaginable and had been left with nothing coherent enough to convey his feelings. He wished he had the same poetic tongue he showed off to his fans time and time again, but you were on an entirely different league to him.

"I'm just ... hurt. I'm hurt you didn't tell me. I'm hurt that I didn't know about this huge part of your life that clearly means a lot to you," you paused for a second to sniffle, showing the first sign of crying that Wonwoo hoped wouldn't come, "I'm hurt you'd be willing to have sex with me while still lying about your identity."

Oh.

Oh, he-

"Would you have told me after we'd slept together? Or were you just going to give me an NDA to sign right after?", there was a slight tone of snark in your voice as you let go of his hand for the first time.

Wonwoo felt hurt by your words. He knew you didn't mean them. That you knew he felt more for you than to string you along just to send you running with a legal document detailing your contractual obligation to keep whatever happened between you a secret. But this still didn't take away the sting.

But no part of him blamed you. It was possible that you did feel like he'd been using you. That he took advantage of your lack of knowledge of him to live out some fantasy of his in which he didn't have to worry about being an idol.

"I'm sorry. I'd never- it was never like that for me. You weren't just an NDA to me. I wanted to keep you away from all that stuff for as long as I could. But I never consulted you about it. I should've let you decide whether you wanted-" he cleared his throat, swallowing the vile building there, "whether you'd still want to be with me despite that."

Upon looking into your eyes, he saw a slight change in your demeanor. Unbeknownst to him, his eyes had begun forming tears, tears which your hands immediately reached up to wipe at with the most delicacy imaginable. His lips tugged up slightly at your demonstration of affection. One of his hands came up to hold yours hostage against his cheek, leaning into it when you caressed it. Your eyes now showed more compassion than anything, with your frustration at him being overtaken by care for him.

"I'm sorry, I-" he went to apologize, only to be interrupted by your moving closer to him on the couch and sushing him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. I know you didn't- I know you wouldn't do that, I'm just ... I'm just mad, I'm sorry," you needlessly apologized, causing Wonwoo to shake his head in an exasperated manner.

"You should be mad. I lied to you," he chuckled sadly at your frown. It made him melt how your immediate reaction to him crying was to push everything aside and comfort him.

"I'm not actually angry. I'm just disappointed. I feel like there's this huge part of your life I was just left out of while I opened myself up to you entirely," you mumbled sadly.

"I know," he whispered, not knowing what else to say and being entirely too scared that anything else would make you take your hands away from him.

A moment of silence passed by while you both sniffled and you continued to wipe at his silent tears. His hand held onto your empty one, heart accelerating at how you held his back.

"I would've liked you just the same, you know," you mumbled a few moments later.

"What?", he asked as if he hadn't heard you.

"I wouldn't've minded your job. I would've liked you just as much as I already do. I- I would've been willing to put the extra work it would've taken for us to be together if necessary," you continued.

His stomach churned. He knew this. Deep within him, he felt a connection so strong, which he knew was entirely mutual. The thought made him happy, but that was quickly taken away when he remembered the context of the conversation.

"I know," he rasped, "I- I should've known," he corrected, "I'm sorry."

Wonwoo was unsure as to what was supposed to happen next. He wanted to leave it up to you. No matter what your decision was, he'd respect it.

"I don't want you to beat yourself up over it, Wonwoo. I just ... I think I need a little while to think things over, if that's okay," you looked to him with a small smile which he returned.

"Yes, of course. Anything you need. Do you- do you want me to get you a hotel? Or ... Would you still want to stay with me?," he felt so pathetic asking, but he held the hope that you'd still be willing to stay with him.

"Of course I want to stay here. I told you, Wonwoo, I don't travel to another country for just any man," you joked lightheartedly, making Wonwoo chuckle lightly.

The conversation mostly ended there. You continued to awkwardly put your shirt back on and settled yourself in his room. He decided to stay at home for the rest of the day, attempting to mend things with you.

You continued to treat him as usual, occasionally asking him about his career, to which he responded awkwardly but attempted to keep things casual as to not make the situation uncomfortable. For the most part, he helped you settle down, as you'd informed him you'd be staying for two months due to the duration of your current assignment. At some point you'd offered to stay at a hotel, likely sensing his change of demeanor after your argument, but he profusely insisted you stay.

When it was time to sleep, he felt even more awkward, not knowing whether he should offer to sleep in the living room or bunk with Mingyu to avoid making you uncomfortable by staying on the same bed.

"Don't be dumb. I don't mind sleeping together," had been your nonchalant response, not noticing his reaction at the implication.

"Are you sure? I don't-"

"Wonwoo!", you suddenly raised your voice, pinching at your eyebrows in frustration afterwards, "I'm not mad at you."

You made your way over to him, putting down some of the stuff you'd been organizing in the walk-in bathroom located in his room. Once in front of him, you hesitated for a second but opted to hold his hands as you often liked to do.

"I want to spend time with you. Let's just ... let's try to move past it. I'm not angry, I just need to process it a bit, okay? I'd still like to share a bed with you, if you want that too," you looked shy for a mere second, "I've always thought about cuddling you," you finished with a small giggle.

Wonwoo smiled fondly at you, letting his guard down the most he had been since this afternoon's situation. He went on a whim and hugged you, pressing you comfortably against his chest.

"I'd love that. Thank you," he found himself thanking you as he led you to bed, humming happily when you removed any distance from between the two of you as soon as you laid down.

"I've always wanted this," he whispered against you, arms holding you safely against him.

"Me too," you whispered.

Like that, you fell into slumber, giving Wonwoo a brand new hope that things would be okay.

The following day started very differently than originally imagined. Part of Wonwoo was convinced it had all been a dream. The groggy part of him as he laid there, pressed up against you and only about 10% awake was truly convinced that he was currently in a dream state.

Which was why what followed didn't seem out of the ordinary for him.

This had not been the first time Wonwoo had dreamt of you.

Although most of his dreams were sweet and innocent, filled with your pretty smile and sweet touch, there were a few outliers. These were some which he was mostly embarrassed by, but he really couldn't deny enjoying them.

This dream seemed like a bit of a rollercoaster, really. It all began with you coming to visit him? In Korea? Man, was he elated to have you. But then the inevitable happened. You'd found out about his lies. You'd gotten hurt by him. He'd disappointed you.

He was unsure how the rest progressed, but somehow he ended up in bed with you, sharing an 'I love you' before falling asleep by your side.

What ensued after had been his favorite part.

Having you pressed up so closely against him had an immediate effect, or at least so much was obvious by the sudden tightness of his boxers. His hips took a mind of their own as they pressed further against the ass curved so perfectly against him.

His hands held tightly onto your hips, beginning to slowly hump against you.

Many of his M rated dreams about you went on like this. It'd start with some scenario involving you and eventually evolve into Wonwoo humping his bed in his sleep, but it always felt entirely too real.

Almost as real as now, but maybe not quite.

Maybe because this was real. It just took Wonwoo a little while to realize it.

What began to break him out of his sleepy daze had been the breathy sigh he heard in his vicinity. But what truly took him right out was when his pillow(?) pushed back against him, drawing a pathetic whimper from his throat.

Opening his eyes, he then realized the reality of the situation.

He just so happened to have his pretty girl actually on his bed.

It all came back to him immediately. The surprise visit, the almost-sex, the revelation, the crying, the reconciliation, everything.

But his hips never stopped moving.

And when they did, he suddenly felt a hand draw back and press his own hand further into your hip, a whisper of a voice coming out.

"Keep going, Nonu ..." you said, pushing yourself even harder into him.

With a groan, he buried his face into your neck, kissing the skin he found there. This was when he really lost himself.

"Fuck," he groaned, hips humping you with desperation. It was that morning sensitivity that had him acting on impulse, he knew this, but he still couldn't help himself — especially when you began moaning along.

"Take off your pants," you grunted.

It was obvious to Wonwoo what you wanted to do, which was why no objection was had as he undid the drawstring of his pajamas before pulling out his dick just enough for you to dig behind you and take hold of it in the pretty hands he'd dreamed of many times before.

Lowering your own sleeping shorts just enough, you did the unexpected, burying his cock between the nonexistent space between your thighs and encouraging him to hump his dick against him.

He gasped at the tightness, feeling the upper side of his dick be permeated with the wetness you'd released. His brain piratically short-circuited at knowing just how close you were to him.

"Baby," he grunted.

"Feel good, Nonu?", you grinned. He couldn't see your face, but he just knew.

Head still buried against you, he whined a pathetic 'yes' while he sucked love bites into your neck. It was downright pitiful how good he felt without actually fucking you, but his hips just wouldn't stop seeking that tightness.

He continued to grace your cunt, giving you what knew must've been a frustrating amount of stimulation — enough to have you wanting more, but lacking the fulfillment he could easily give you once inside you.

Wonwoo really wanted to make you cum. God, did he want to flip you to your back and have his way. But this felt so fucking good. It was a lost battle and you knew it. It had been your plan from the moment he'd woken you up by grinding against you. It was all so transparent to Wonwoo. You wanted to torture him, and god did he want to be tortured.

With a few more thrusts between your thighs, he finished. The whimpers left against your skin would've been embarrassing had he not felt the pulsing of your cunt any time a sound left his throat. You liked it, and he wanted to give you everything you liked.

You turned around afterwards, now facing him and immediately stealing a kiss from him. No words needed to be shared when he'd missed your kiss so much. Not when he felt so good as he kissed you. Making love to your mouth as badly as he wanted to your cunt, he kissed you until you were both out of breath.

His leg caught onto your middle, sneaking its way between your legs as you dragged your cunt against it whilst continuing your kiss. Your pants and heavy breaths landed directly into his mouth, but he welcomed it, ensuring your lips remained connected. Dragging your middle up and down his leg, he could feel your high approaching. You pulsed and writhed at the friction, angling yourself however you saw fit while Wonwoo aided you by dragging his leg in synch.

With a broken gasp, you came while Wonwoo's embrace never left you. A visceral reaction overtook him during your orgasm. The sight and feeling of the pretty girl he'd been thinking about for months finally falling apart under his barely-there touch had the most obvious effect — he was hard, again.

"Wonwoo," you breathed out after catching your breath. Your hand found his chin, angling him to look into your eyes.

"Hmm?", he was slightly nervous at how deadpan your tone sounded.

"I need you to fuck me."

"A-ah," he grunted when you guided him on top of you, "Are you sure?" he breathed once hovering over you.

"Extremely."

"But-"

"Wonwoo, I love you. I've been wanting this since Italy. It's okay, I promise," you went to hold his face in your hands, smiling that pretty smile at him as you spoke, topping it off with a chaste peck.

"I love you too," he smiled back, connecting your lips for a longer kiss.

The rest was pretty much history. Your bodies molded with one another, foreplay becoming far too natural for your first time together. You kissed and felt every inch of each other's bodies before Wonwoo blindly patted his end table for a condom, entering you when you continued to insist on him doing so.

He groaned into your neck, puffing hot air against your sweaty skin at just how perfectly he felt. He'd missed your presence so bad, but he didn't realize he could miss this despite having never had it before. It was clear to him now that there was no way he could ever let you leave Korea again. He'd have to ditch his job and hike a flight back to Italy or simply hold you hostage in Seoul.

Or maybe that was just the pussydrunkness speaking.

"Move," you whined after too many seconds spent by Wonwoo attempting not to lose himself as soon as he entered you.

It became even more tortuous when he began bumping in and out of you. He found the perfect rhythm immediately, with your hips humping upwards and aiding him in the task. He wasn't sure if it was because you just so happened to be made for him or if it was due to how much he loved you, but the feeling of you was completely unrivaled by anything else he'd experienced in his 28 years of life.

His arms went to the back of your thighs, lifting them further up his waist to hold you as close to him as possible. Your responded by digging your nails into his biceps, crying out his name when the canting of his hips just became too much to handle.

"Fuck, just like that," you sighed, "R-right there!", was your next respond when he angled you just perfectly.

Knowing his orgasm was just moments away, he followed your every direction, becoming in tune with your body almost immediately. His thumb was practically glued to your clit, working different patterns until he found one that had your eyes rolling back. It was hard not to become obsessed with your pleasure upon getting a taste of it.

"F-fuck. Gonna cum, Nonu," your nails dragged down his back.

He hissed at the pain, but drank it all in. His grunts encouraged you to do whatever you wanted to him. He was yours from now on.

"Cum, pretty. I'm right behind you," he panted. That dancer's stamina was really paying off right now.

Your orgasm led directly to his own, with mumbles of 'I love you's muttered as mantras as you both entered and rode your highs. The sticky sweat shared between your bodies did not bother Wonwoo as he nuzzled against you, making sure he did not drop his entire body weight into you while keeping himself as close as possible.

Throwing out the condom, he got up despite his exhaustion to make sure to clean you up a bit, dragging your tired body to pee while he made sure bed was warm and ready for your return.

You emerged back with a lazy smile on your face, almost tackling him when you ran back to bed and let him envelop you in his arms.

More sweet words were exchanged (along with some brave touches in between kisses) as you fell asleep in each other's arms again. When you awoke again, it was with smiles glued to your faces, not leaving you even as you went out to fix yourselves up a quick and domestic breakfast.

He held your waist and buried his face in the crook of your neck as you insisted on cooking, just as he'd pictured uncountable times before. You were so into your own world that you did not hear the entrance of Wonwoo's roommate.

"Huh," you suddenly heard from behind you, causing the two of you to jump.

"So you're the girl taking up all of Wonwoo's attention," Mingyu grinned teasingly, hands on his hips in an accusatory manner.

And that was only the beginning of your welcome into Wonwoo's world.

to read short 2.2k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, pda, mingyu third-wheeling, dry humping, an appearance from a few other members, etc.

wc: 531 (teaser); 2.2k (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"It's been three weeks and I'm still not used to being your third wheel. Don't feel particularly happy about it either," Mingyu whined from his lonesome couch whilst staring at the two of you cuddled up in another.

Ever since you began staying with Wonwoo, your affection had been through the roof. Neither of you were too big on PDA, but you didn't really mind it while indoors — especially since that was the only environment in which you could truly be together freely.

It was unfortunate for Mingyu, however, that indoors usually involved his presence.

Mingyu had welcomed you with open arms, insisting that he was more than happy to share the apartment with Wonwoo's girl, as he called you. But within only a few weeks, his demeanor changed slightly. He began to pout and whine any time you'd lounge around together, claiming he was now a third wheel in his own home and complaining about feeling single.

There had also been a few less PG instances the had a tendency to complain about.

It had only happened a few times, but that didn't make it any less mortifying when it did happen.

Today, fortunately, was one of the tamer instances in which you'd simply opted for a night in. Surprisingly to you, the two boys you'd been roomming with were both more homebodies than they seemed. Well, you'd expected it from Wonwoo, but Mingyu had been a surprise.

As per usual, you were cuddled up with Wonwoo as you watched a movie. Meanwhile, your friend Mingyu sat at a slight distance away on his own couch, continuing to stare with a pout.

This only went long enough until your boyfriend decided to whine back at his roommate.

"Gyu, just go on that blind date Kwannie suggested. Stop acting like we killed your dog," he grumbled.

You only giggled along as you listened.

"I like the single life! It's just that I wasn't expecting to have the human manifestation of a romance novel shoving their perfect relationship in my face at all times," he went on to complain.

"Dude, what do you want from me?", Wonwoo complained, annoyed.

The large man simply sighed petulantly before getting up, shooting you yet another annoyed look.

"I'll just go out again, I guess. Please don't do anything disgusting in my absence," he called as he made his way to leave, taking a plate of snacks away from you and Wonwoo in the process despite your lighthearted complaints.

With a few other scoldings from him, he made his way out, likely to go hang out with some of the many friends the man had to choose from. Simultaneously, Wonwoo took advantage of the newfound privacy to somehow cuddle up to you even closer, burying his face in your neck to breathe you in.

"Well, that was fun," you joked.

"Mhm," was all Wonwoo responded, his attention now laying completely on the skin of your neck as he began nosing at it, pressing the occasional kiss.

"I think it's better when he's gone, don't you think?", he mumbled between kisses, hands beginning to roam your torso.

"He's fun," you defended half-heartedly, easily giving in to him.

...

find the continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[caelivir]

synopsis. you’ve been deliberately dodging atsumu miya. he wants to know why.

pairing. atsumu miya x fem!reader | wc. 2.0k (it wasn’t even supposed to be this long) | genres. (implied) university au, tbh i don’t even know what this dynamic is, he calls us princess, reader’s kinda bad emotionally, rain confessions

notes. for my birthday (not gojo’s eff him (/j)) i decided why not take one of my favorite tropes of all time and pair it w the loml. you’re so welcome. this is very dialogue heavy, barely proofread, and a hot mess, but i hope you enjoy regardless.

"(y/n)." the very familiar, sultry yet aggravating voice says the moment you step out of the cafe.

"oh my god!" you jump, clutching a hand over your heart that skipped a beat. it's immediately followed with a glare towards atsumu. "what the fuck, miya? you don't just come up to people like that."

"sorry." atsumu apologizes but his nose scrunches at the word. "nah, not really. didn't know how else to get to ya."

"so you had to find me at my job?" you raise an eyebrow in disbelief.

he shrugs. "yer really not leavin' me with any other choice."

"what are you on about?" you roll your eyes as you take a sharp left, carefully exhaling out. the street is nearly deserted now that the sun sunk past the horizon, leaving only the street lights and the moon to illuminate what would be a pitch black scene. puddles of water are scattered along the walkways, remnants of the downpour that occurred earlier in the day. you had clocked out later than usual, and the next flash of rain is predicted to fall within the next few minutes. you want to get back to your dorm before the worst of it happens.

"ya know what i'm talking about." atsumu huffs. "yer clearly avoiding me."

your shoulders tense when he brings it up, and you pray that atsumu doesn't catch it. "i'm not." you lie, your heart speeding up.

"yer a shit liar. i hope ya know that." atsumu shuts you down right then and there. the fact he's able to makes you wince. that's one of the many bones you have to pick with him. he can always see right through you, and it allows him to get under your skin easily since he knows exactly what to say if he wants to get a reaction out of you.

it's because of that reason that you've been avoiding him. you know yourself well enough that if you were to stand face to face with atsumu miya as you are now, he'd figure out the secret that you've been hiding for two weeks.

atsumu presses his lips together, sighing once he realizes that all he'll get from you from this point forward is silence, but he tries his luck anywayy. "can we talk?"

you let his question fizzle out in the air, continuing down the sidewalk as atsumu follows by your side. the first drops of drizzle fall onto your hand and cheek. atsumu feels them too.

"look, it's gonna rain soon. could ya at least let me take ya home? yer gonna get soaked." atsumu gently reaches out for your hand. the sudden contact and its spark of heat makes you jump. instinctively, you yank your hand away from him. your widened eyes snap towards him, and shame washes over you. maybe the street lights are playing tricks on you, but you swear there's a flicker of hurt in his gaze. you turn away from him because you can't bear the sight of it.

"are ya mad at me? did i do somethin' to upset ya?" atsumu continues.

no, you answer in your head. you can't trust yourself to say it out loud without betraying anything else. it's not that.

"(y/n), please. talk to me." atsumu pleads. you don't think you've ever heard such desperation in his voice before. you've never seen him so raw. it's almost enough to break you, but you refuse to let go the threads of your resolve. the rain is picking up; it's cold as it soaks the threads of your clothes.

"princess." atsumu throws in as a last ditch effort. you know it is because it's the one nickname that gets you riled up the most. it sparks a reaction that atsumu knows will get you talking, but unbeknownst to him it's not for the reason he expects. he wants you to snap with anger, but all your heart does is ache. all it does is melt you into putty in his hands.

"don't call me that." you finally come to a stop, turning so that you can face him, defeat in your gaze. atsumu's blond locks are beginning to lose volume; they stick to his forehead as droplets continue to fall. his hoodie is littered with small, dark stains, a physical consequence of the rain.

"oh now i got yer attention." atsumu scoffs, poking his tongue into the inside of his cheek.

"miya." you warn, voice shaking. he ignores it.

"yer not being yerself, and ya haven't been for the last two weeks." he tells you as if you don't already recognize it yourself. "what's goin' on with ya?"

"nothing!" you deny. "i'm fine!"

atsumu rolls his eyes. "cut the crap, princess."

"seriously, stop calling me that!" you spit back at him.

you're shivering. you can't tell if it's because of your cold, wet clothes or your frustration that keeps reaching new levels. you can sense it; you can sense that your heart is about to claw itself out of chest and dump itself onto the feet of atsumu miya. your hand fists the fabric of your soaked shirt as if to keep it in.

"then tell me what's wrong!" the blond in front of you demands, running a hand through his hair. his voice projects over the brutal force of the rain.

you grimace. that's the one thing you can't do, especially since it involves him. you bite your tongue, hiding your face so that atsumu doesn't see the glassiness of your eyes. "miya... please drop it." you ask him pathetically.

"why?" he pries. this is the other issue with him. he's so damn stubborn to the point that it's infuriating. atsumu miya never backs down until he gets what he wants.

"because it's you!" the first wave of tears break free. they cascade down your cheeks, mixing in the stream of rain on your cheeks; all while your hand remains pointed at atsumu. "because i fell for you!"

atsumu shuts his mouth, going completely silent. you shake your head, laughing bitterly. "i bet you didn't expect that, did you? believe me, i didn't either. day in and day out all we've ever done was argue so i don't know how this happened. i don't know why i have these feelings for you."

wiping your face is a futile attempt yet you still do it anyway. a sob gets caught in your throat, and you choke on it. "i can't stop thinking about you. i can't be near you without my heart attempting to leap out of chest. and so yeah, i've been avoiding you miya, and it's because you've made me so damn weak."

your stare finds atsumu's. you can't get a read on him, but you don't have to second guess that he can see the pain swirling in your eyes. it's so humiliating that even now the first thing that crosses your mind is how good he looks even as you feel your heart being torn apart. his hair is completely stuck to his forehead. his blond ends that are soaked through and through drip their excess water onto his face. you want nothing more than to brush them out of his line of sight, but you can't. you fight that desire by balling up your fists.

"so please just leave me alone. stop trying to find me because i can't take this anymore." you beg through hiccups.

you wait for a response. you wait to see if atsumu will kick your heart aside. in an even better scenario, which is far from likely, he accepts it. you'll take either or.

but he does neither, and that's fine too. you leave atsumu by himself on the sidewalk, and your lack of presence pulls him out of his trance. he jogs to catch up to you, reaching from behind to clasp your hand in his.

"miya, let go-"

"no." he says firmly, a newfound fire burning behind his eyes, one that exceeds the one you feel on your hand. the sight makes you gulp. "ya can't just confess yer feelings for me and leave."

you chuckle weakly, trying to pull yourself free from his grasp. "i think i can."

"no, ya can't. ya didn't even give me a chance to say anythin'." atsumu argues. he doesn't relinquish the hold he has on you.

"what more do you have to say? you don't feel the same, and that's fine-"

"could ya stop assuming things?! i never even said that." atsumu squeezes your hand ever so lightly in frustration. "and by the way, i'm not gonna leave ya alone. i'll follow ya to the edge of the earth if i have to."

you're still crying at this point, and atsumu's words are only making you more upset. "why?! why are you so fixated on me?! why can't you just-"

"because i'm in love with ya!"

in that moment, you swear the rain stops in its place, suspended in the air. surely, you must've been hearing things wrong. atsumu miya, the guy who has everyone dancing to the tune of his hand, is- no that doesn't even sound right. how could he possibly-

"god, i've been in love with ya for so long." atsumu laughs, like it's a relief to finally get it off his chest. "but ya nearly ripped my heart to shreds over these past two weeks."

atsumu squeezes your hand before letting it fall to your side. his own flex by his side as if to hold himself back. "(y/n), ya can insult me to yer heart's content if that's what makes ya happy, but don't dodge me like i'm the damn plague. i hate it. i really do."

atsumu picks up his tear-filled eyes; it makes your own fall even faster because you realize that this hurts him. you want to apologize, but the words are backed up in your throat. your cries steal away your ability to speak.

so you pull him in, yanking him by the drenched fabric of his hoodie and closing the distance between you two. your lips crash onto his, praying that this action is enough for him to understand. it takes a moment for atsumu to react, he's unmoving against you, and once he realizes what's happening, he relaxes. his hands fly to your neck, resting one on either side as he kisses you back.

it's carnivorous. he kisses you like he's been deprived of you. you feel how badly atsumu's been wanting this, how long he's been waiting for this day. you can barely keep up with his hunger. it's hot enough to overpower the chill that comes with the rain beating down on both of you. you'd kiss him forever if you could, but your lungs are begging for air.

when you pull away, atsumu's eyes reveal that he's in a daze, a happy one, like he just came back from soaring through the clouds. his damp hair presses onto your forehead as you both catch your breaths.

he pulls back. atsumu wears a soft grin as he admires you, even though you probably look like a wet dog. one of his hands find their way up to your cheek. you look at him expectantly. "(y/n), i want all of ya. i want yer stubborn ass attitude and yer insults. i want ya to be the only person who can bring me back down to earth. i want yer smiles and all yer laughs. i want to continue lovin' ya." he professes with complete certainty. his flowery words make you beam so brightly that it makes your cheeks hurt.

"i'll give you all of that and more." you swear. "but miya, i need you to kiss me again."

"oh? it seems like i got myself a needy princess." atsumu smirks, but he's already leaning in.

"shut up."

"gladly." atsumu agrees, pressing his lips to yours, smiles on both your faces.

you catch the flu the day after, and so does atsumu. but man, it is so, so worth it.

[fakebwitch]

we share the same sins

— pairing: father charlie mayhew x fem!reader

— summary: as usual you go to church to say your prayer, father charlie says something that catches you by surprise, shortly thereafter you find yourself discussing it in his office and things escalate quickly.

— warnings: very smutty

you sat on one of the long, dark wooden benches, your hands held a gold and quartz rosary that your parents had given you on your previous birthday, your index finger and thumb turning one of the many balls that made up the necklace, your eyes closed as your mind repeated the usual prayer.

it was a wednesday, 5 p.m. you had finished all your studies concerning school and had walked toward the church of your small town to perform one of your weekly prayers.

you smelled a familiar scent flooding your nostrils, but you kept your eyes closed, determined to continue your prayer. the scent grew stronger and stronger as you felt a body sit down next to you. no longer able to maintain your concentration, you opened your eyes, turning to the left, meeting father charlie's gaze.

before you could utter a word he anticipated you, "shh... keep your eyes closed, go on" he guided you, you hesitated for a second, scanning his beautiful features, you decided to listen to him by closing your eyes, moving your head to the altar, clutching your rosary tightly as you resumed your prayer.

you tried, but your mind had abandoned you by then, all you could think about was whether he was looking at you at that moment, watching your hair, the way you were dressed, the way your well-manicured fingers played with the rosary or maybe scrutinizing your profile, your nose, your lips... and then there was his strong scent, you let it go as you opened your eyes. you moved your head toward him and saw that he was looking straight ahead, you were a little disappointed.

fortunately he was able to anticipate your movements and shifted his gaze from your face, to the altar in front of him in time, so that you wouldn't catch him staring at you.

"i'm done" you lied crossing his gaze, biting your lower lip, "are you really?" he said, "yes" you lied again. charlie knew inside that you weren't telling the truth, you were far from done.

you knew he knew, in fact you were ready to get a rebuke about not lying in the house of God, but he didn't say anything about it.

"good," he nodded, shifting his gaze elsewhere, unable to look you in the eyes for too long.

"what are you doing?" you asked him, watching his concentrated face, you realized how stupid your question sounded at that moment and before he could answer ironically you added "in your mind."

he looked at you for a few seconds, "brooding over my sins," he said with a sigh, he indeed was doing it.

"in that case who do you confess to? should i be your priest?" you said the last sentence with a smile, charlie couldn't help but laugh as he shook his head, "i don't know if you should listen to my sins" he said becoming serious again, wetting his lips.

"why not? i mean you've heard all my sins... i think we share the same ones" you said shrugging your shoulders, not thinking of a possible meaning behind those words, father charlie raised an eyebrow scrutinizing your profile as your fingers tightened around your rosary beads.

"yeah? like watching porn videos?" he said.

your head turned sharply toward him, widening your eyes at having so openly said such an impure word in the house of God, you looked around worried that some poor Christian might hear the words that just came out from the mouth of the priest who every sunday morning did mass in front of all the citizens, but luckily the church was almost completely empty except for a few ladies but they were sitting something like 7 or 8 pews away from the two of you.

"charlie..." you said in a whisper looking at him bewildered, he looked down, a small smile on his face, "what, I mean you said that we share the same sins and that's what you confess to me" he said simply shrugging his shoulders as he crossed his arms. "don't say it out loud” you scolded him as you asked God for forgiveness internally.

"don't worry, I could have said worse things you confessed to me" he said by now chuckling, enjoying teasing you, you glowered at him as you pushed his shoulder, "will you stop it" you said trying to keep your tone low.

"the truth is you're a nasty gir-" before he could continue this dirty little game you grabbed your bag getting up from your seat, "you're really absurd" you said as you walked down the long aisle.

"wait, I was just kidding" he said as he chased after you, not caring what the few people in the church might think. he reached out and grabbed your wrist, leading you to a hidden corner.

"you should not say out loud what I confess to you, it should stay between you and me" you scolded him, in fact it was the truth, a priest should not have said what was confessed to him, it was confessional secrecy.

"well you are right, but I can assure you that no one heard what i said" he said trying to reassure you. by now he knew you well enough to know that there was something wrong with you and when he saw that you did not respond he added "is something bothering you?".

he was surprised by your reaction, you used to always joke together, about anything. it had been weeks since you had grown close, if you can call it that; on days when you went to church to say your usual prayer, he was there, and when you finished you would stop to talk to him, or even after sunday mass, after dismissing everyone, he was more than happy to spend time with you. he was always available, answering any of your doubts or questions.

you were so familiar with each other that he didn't even want you to call him father charlie anymore, just charlie was fine.

"yes... maybe I am," you admitted biting your lower lip, "would you mind telling me what it is about?" he asked as his gaze softened, a slight pout on your face.

as you were about to respond he interrupted you, "we can go to my office if you prefer, so we can have more privacy" he proposed, you looked at him taking a few seconds to decide. it wouldn't be your first time in his office, but the idea of being alone with him made you so self-conscious.

"yes that's fine" you nodded, he gave you a small smile and then started walking, you walked alongside him as you silently made your way to his office. he opened the door to the room, put a hand on your back as he guided you inside, closing the door behind him. you tried to ignore his gesture as you took a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

"can I offer you tea... or perhaps you would prefer coffee?" he offered, "coffee would be fine, thank you" you replied with a smile, "no problem" he replied returning your smile, turning to a cabinet, taking the carafe with coffee and pouring a little into a cup.

"thank you" you whispered again taking the cup from his hands, your fingers brushed against his in the process.

"so... do you want to talk about it?" he urged as he sat on the corner of the desk, a few feet away from you, you sent down a long sip of coffee and then set the cup down on the desk. "it's just that this is the last year of school, and I have so many important tests coming up, I haven't started studying yet, and I'm so scared of failing..." you blurted out as you played with the flap of your skirt, charlie looked at you nodding at your every word, he really did listening to you when you spoke.

"it's okay, there's no need to stress so much, trust me... I've been there too, and I survived" he said with a slight smile making you laugh, "how did you do?" you asked as you met his gaze, "not exactly well, but the important thing is that it's over" he replied shrugging as you both laughed.

"but I know it's different with you, I know you're smart and you have all the skills to get the most out of it, you'll be fine, don't stress that pretty head of yours too much" he reassured you giving you a wink, you smiled lowering your gaze. his words were serious, he really meant what he was telling you, it wasn't just said to please you.

"I hope you're right..."

"you know I am" he said as you took the cup back into your hands to take another sip.

"about before- I wanted to apologize for what I said, I shouldn't have done that, it was unkind of me-"

"it's okay really, don't worry about it” you said interrupting him, "I just overreacted" you continued moving a strand of hair falling across your face.

"no your reaction was more than correct, what you confess to me should remain secret, and I should not have allowed myself to say it out loud" he insisted. "i promise, it's okay... just hearing it out loud was a little... you know, awkward" you confessed feeling your cheeks heat up, feeling weak in front of his gaze so intense. he looked at you for a few seconds as you cursed yourself entirely for opening that speech.

"awkward you say?" he urged you raising an eyebrow, having full interest in the conversation you were engaging in. you took a long breath thinking about the right things to say, in the end he was a priest anyway.

"yes, talking about that kind of thing so openly... it seemed unfair" you admitted crossing his gaze, his mouth slightly open as he listened to your words, you seemed so unsure about it.

"why? it's normal, it's part of being human to take certain actions" he said wetting his lips, waiting for your next answer.

"yes it's true..." you nodded agreeing with him.

you looked at him, but really looked at him. he wasn't wearing the usual tunic he wore when he was performing mass, but a black shirt, as well as pants and shoes, and a matching belt. your eyes lingered on his chest, the shirt was quite tight and you could imagine his trained physique underneath the fabric, his arms looked so muscular and you could just imagine how worked out his abs could be.

you weren't stupid, you had heard the rumors going around, about him being a personal trainer before he took up the seminar. you couldn't help but think about what his life was like before he devoted himself to god, whether he had been with so many women, whether he was good at it.

"have you ever done it?" you asked him voicing your thoughts, capturing his attention even more than you had before, "done what?" he incited you. he knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear the famous word leave your lips.

you looked at him feeling like you wanted to sink to the floor below, it made you so self-conscious.

"sex" you finally said it.

he held back a smirk as he looked at your embarrassed face.

"well yes, I did it before I went down the path," he admitted as you nodded silently, you didn't know exactly what to expect, but the idea of him performing such an act made you more and more excited. "what was it like?" you asked boldly meeting his gaze, you had never had any kind of relationship that led back to sex, other than watching porn videos, as you had confessed to him, and touching yourself a few times.

even though you had never done anything with a man, you knew how sex and all the other kinds of gratification you could receive and give worked. your mind wandered, imagining him gratifying the women he slept with, his head between their thighs as they screamed his name.

you certainly should not have thought such things about a priest.

"the best feeling ever" he replied to you, and you could tell by his tone of voice and expression that he was probably going over such events in his head, that he wasn't lying. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy for the women who had been lucky enough to sleep with him.

he looked at you, your expression more thoughtful than ever. "how come you're so interested in this?" he asked you curiously as he lifted his shirt sleeve, up to his elbow, in full view the veins on his forearm as his fingers clung to the desk. you looked unashamedly at the scene, his veins so thick you just wanted to run your fingers over them. of course charlie noticed.

"I've never done anything like that" you replied looking into his eyes, oh trust me he knew. he knew you were an innocent little girl, still untouched, and that drove him crazy.

"mhm" he nodded inciting you to continue, he could tell by your expression that there was something else you wanted to say, but the words wouldn't come out. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately" you said, your eyes shifting to his bulge for a split second, you hoped it went unnoticed by him, but it didn't.

you were almost 19 and hadn't had any kind of relationship yet, was it so wrong to fantasize sexually every night?

"don't feel wrong about that, I get it" he said, his voice almost in a whisper. you were already aroused and his attractive voice wasn't helping.

"I just want to know how it feels."

and that was the last straw, all he needed to take the decisive step. your pretty eyes looked down at him, looking so innocent, his impure thoughts took over his mind as he felt his cock twitch.

he swallowed as he moved closer to where you were sitting, he couldn't miss this chance, it was all he had wanted from the moment his eyes had landed on you.

"I could help you" he offered as he looked down at you, nothing but lust in his dark eyes. you didn't think for a second about the fact that he was a priest, that he wasn't allowed to give in to temptation, it was a sin, just as it was a sin for you too, to lose your virginity before marriage to the person perhaps least suited.

you nodded, unable to utter a word under his gaze, "use your words” he intimated, "I want you to” you replied, deglutinating, no longer able to hide the discomfort in your lower abdomen, all you needed was him.

his large hand rested on your soft cheek, his thumb rubbed the soft skin and then went down to your lips, settling on your lower lip, bringing it down.

he lowered himself just a little so that your faces were inches from each other, you knew what was coming, you closed your eyes as your heartbeat quickened unnaturally. you'd never kissed anyone, except for a little kiss you'd shared a long time ago with a friend of yours, but nothing that could remotely lead back to a real kiss.

his lips collided gently with yours, and he swore that he had never committed a finer sin. he broke away after a few seconds, looked at you as you opened your eyes, your pupils dilated, he could mirror himself in them.

"get up."

he stepped back a little so that you had the space to stand up, you did as he ordered. he was much taller than you, your head met his chest as you looked up at him. "haven't you ever kissed before?" he asked you, his voice barely audible, your eyes were fixed in his as his hand rested on the side of your neck, pushing you toward the desk.

"no" you shook your head, keeping the same tone of voice as his, you worried thinking that through a simple kiss he had caught your inexperience and was already tired of you, "don't worry, it's okay" his voice reassuring as your ass was pressed against the desk, "just follow what I do, it's nothing your pretty head can't learn" you nodded letting his voice guide you and before you could think of anything else his lips returned to yours, this time however his lips moved slowly parting, you copied his own movements, finding your rhythm.

"just like that, you see" he whispered on your lips with a small smile pulling away so that you could catch your breath, his free hand moved to your hips bringing you closer to him. his lips found yours again, resuming the same rhythm as before, this time feeling his tongue slip easily between your lips.

you copied his movements, letting your tongue make its way between his mouth. you were by no means an expert kisser, but for what it was worth you could tell he was an excellent kisser.

he broke away to catch his breath but your hand grabbed him by the collar, making his lips smack against yours, he laughed in the kiss at your desperation, "calm down pretty girl, i'm right here" he said as the hand he had on your hip moved to your thigh pushing it onto the table so that you were sitting on it now.

he made space between your legs as your hands played with his hair, you heard little sounds escaping his lips and they were the most beautiful things you had ever heard.

as his hand was steady on your hip, yours moved to his arm, feeling his bicep. you don't know how long you dreamed of doing this.

his lips, his hands on you, his grunts, it was all so new to you that it got you overwhelmed, you couldn't wait any longer, you needed him now, your pussy was aching for him.

"i need you" you said pulling away from the kiss, taking one of his hands and bringing it to your center, there was no more room for shyness. charlie swore he could cum at that exact moment at the sight, your desperate face, your hair disheveled as well as your lips flushed, and his hand on your panties, "fuck me..." he whispered feeling through the thin fabric how wet you were.

"is that what you want? me to touch you?" he asked, his other hand grabbed your neck, you nodded frantically, your pussy clenching around nothing, "I want you to touch me" you said as his hand cupped your pussy, you let out a soft moan.

"tell me exactly what you want" at this point he was merely pushing you to the edge, he knew you had never done anything like this so it took little. he wanted it as much as you did, but he couldn't fight the urge to hear your sweet voice begging for him to do something.

"I want... I want your fingers inside me" you didn't even know where you got the courage to say such words, "not so innocent huh?" he taunted with a grin, his hand lifted your skirt as his fingers slowly slipped through the elastic of your panties.

"faster" you begged as he slid the panties down your ankles, ignoring your prayers as he looked them once removed, light pink with a white bow, "these are pretty, i might keep them" he said almost as if he was talking to himself as he put the panties in his pocket.

you felt yourself wet even more at what you had just witnessed.

he rested his lips on yours as his long fingers met your swollen clit, you couldn't help but let out a moan, your fingers were nothing in comparison. your head fell back as his mouth moved to your neck, licking and sucking your skin. "oh charlie" you moaned as his fingers continued to play with your clit, you had never felt a better sensation.

"i'm going to put a finger in" he warned you as his thumb took the place of his index and middle fingers on your clit. he played with your entrance a little and then inserted a finger inside, you let out a moan at the stretching, how were you going to take his cock.

"so wet baby" he whispered in your ear as his finger began to find its rhythm inside you. he noticed that you were feeling nothing but pleasure at that moment, and he slid a second finger in, "fuuuck" you moaned as you felt him stretch you, his big fingers filling you so well.

you cried out as his thumb found your clit again, pressing it and tracing circular motions on it. his lips on you, the way his fingers moved quickly inside you, it all felt too much.

"c-charlie… i think I'm-"

"I know baby I know, give in to it" he cradled you by rejoining your lips, the weight you felt in your stomach more and more persistent, you clung to his biceps, your nails dug into his skin as you felt dizzy.

with almost a pornographic moan you cummed on his fingers, which slowly helped you ride out your orgasm. you felt powerless after cumming hard, your grip on his bicep diminished as you rested your head on his shoulder.

you closed your eyes feeling tired, you could sleep just like that. you let out a sigh as he pulled his fingers out, feeling empty.

you pulled away from his chest, your mind still clouded as you saw him bring his fingers covered in your cum to his mouth, he sucked his fingers as he rolled his eyes, savoring your taste, "so fucking good pretty girl" he murmured removing his fingers from his mouth with a "pop".

he grabbed you by the chin kissing you, his tongue slipped into your mouth so you could taste yourself.

with a quick movement he put his hand on your hip and turned you over, your back now against his chest. as one hand clung to your hips, his other hand pushed down your back, you released a little cry when your chest came in contact with the hard wooden surface.

with a quick movement he lifted your skirt, his hand landed with a violent slap on your ass, making you moan. "charlie I don't know if-" you made to speak but he quickly interrupted you, "shh, shh baby... you're okay, you can take it" he murmured as he continued to grope your ass, voice low and hoarse, his hard cock was screaming to be released, he couldn’t wait any longer, he had to be inside you.

you remained still as you felt him unbuckle his belt, he lowered his pants just enough along with his underwear, his hard cock came out. with the palm of his hand, he cupped your pussy, gathering your wetness, a whimper left your lips at the contact, still sensitive from the previous orgasm.

he began rubbing the tip of his cock in front of you, your pussy in perfect view in front of him as you were bent over his office desk, waiting for him to fuck you… how was he going to explain to God the reason for his sin?

"please... need you" you begged, your pussy clenching around nothing as you heard the wet sounds of his hand jerking on you, wanting nothing more than to feel his cock split you open.

"I'm here baby, I got you," he shushed you.

shortly after you felt his tip rubbing between your folds, you whimpered at the sensation as you heard him moan behind you, you thought it was a torture not to be able to see his beautiful face in pleasure at this moment.

"could cum just by this..." he said in pure bliss, his head fell back as the tip of his cock indulged on your entrance, pushing just enough to make your walls squeeze him like he had never felt before.

"fuck so tight, I thought I had prepared you well... squeezing me so well" he praised you as his hand tightened on your hips, you let out a huge moan as you felt your pussy welcome his cock, his fingers were nothing in comparison.

"it hurts" you moaned almost on the verge of tears as he pushed himself just a little deeper. your little hole was so hot, squeezing him so tightly, he was holding back with all his might not to push himself hard into you and fuck you out of your head.

"I know baby, it will feel better in a little” he reassured you, his hand found your clit, rubbing it as he calmly slid his cock a little deeper inside you.

he wasn't even halfway in and you felt so full already, his fingers on your clit and his cock filling you so well made you moan repeatedly. as he gave you time to adjust to the new intrusion, you began to adjust to his cock inside you, wanting nothing more than for him to move.

"move."

that was all he needed to hear. with one swift move he thrust quickly into you, "fuuuuck" he moaned as you felt your walls suck him in, your hands clinging hard to the desk beneath you, your knuckles turning almost white as you gritted your teeth, feeling your skin burn.

"too much" you moaned, "it’s ok, I'm here" he told you trying somehow to reassure you, but really all he could think about was how good he felt inside you. respecting your limits he slowly pushed himself out then back inside you, as he did this several times you felt the pleasure take over from the pain.

"faster,” you urged him, and he was more than happy to oblige.

his thrusts increased dramatically as his hand left a big slap on your ass. all you could think about was his cock inside you, touching you in all the right places.

"ohh fuck charlie... feels so good" you said as the sound of your body slamming into each other flooded your ears. "just like that, you see? you were made for this cock" he said as he watched your ass bounce each time it came in contact with his body, a moan left his lips at the sight.

you released a loud moan as you felt his tip touch your cervix, in a quick gesture he grabbed both of your wrists holding them tightly with one hand as he pushed you toward him, "keep your fucking mouth shut, or do you want everyone to know that you are being fucked dumb by your priest."

you couldn't help but get even more aroused at hearing his dirty words, you clenched around him and he noticed. "you like how I talk to you like that , don't you? dirty just like I thought" he said to you.

"you are my dirty girl, aren't you?" he asked, balls deep inside you, "y-yes i am your dirty girl" you nodded quickly, too fucked up to even understand what you were saying.

leaving your wrists alone he grabbed you by the hair, so that your back was against his sweaty chest. his hand slid down finding your overstimulated clit. another moan escaped your lips and charlie didn't like it.

he grabbed you by the neck, "the fuck did I say to you? keep your mouth shut" he scolded you, you didn't understand how he wanted you to be silent when he was abusing your hole, making you feel so good. you wanted to answer him but you were too gone to be able to formulate a sentence, in response you couldn't help but let out another moan.

"you want the hard stuff" he murmured slipping two fingers into your mouth, you were quick to wrap your lips around his fingers, sucking on them.

charlie couldn't help but grunt as you squeezed him tighter and tighter, his other hand grabbed your tits as he felt himself getting closer and closer to his orgasm.

"mhm" you murmured around his lips, your hand touched his chest, "what is it baby? you close?" he asked, you nodded euphorically as you rolled your eyes, resting your head on his shoulder.

"cum baby, cum all over my cock" he incited you and within seconds you were cumming hard on his cock, you felt yourself squirming as you slowly returned to normal, his cock thrusting into you hard, you felt your legs shaking.

"good girl... f-fuck i'm gonna baby, you want it? gonna fucking cum inside you" he managed to say between moans, "yes I want it all inside me" you urged him as he took his fingers out of your mouth.

a few thrusts later you felt his hot seed spreading inside you, you couldn't help but whimper at the sensation. low moans kept coming out of his mouth as with slow thrusts he finished inside you, making sure not a single drop was wasted.

he pulled out of you slowly as you suddenly felt empty, let yourself fall back into the chair where you had just sat as you entered his office exhausted.

"I've been waiting to do this ever since I saw you."

[ittybittyfanblog]

Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 6

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a (!) player. That’s it, that’s the plot. Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, strong language, you get your very own samantha from her (2013) lol, time skips as a plot device!, this has an arc i promise, if anybody here plays disco elysium you’ll find that i took concepts of “the pale” as inspo at some points in this chapter lmao A/N: Oof this one’s a little longer than any of the previous chapters. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! <3 (and just a heads up, this might be the last chapter I post before I kick it off for the holidays. advance happy holidays! if you guys celebrate that sort of thing.) 

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8

There’s a quiet stillness brought by the morning after that makes the problems of a heavier night seem like a fairly distant memory. 

For at least a few minutes past the moment you blink away the stubborn grit in your eyes—you don’t remember the last time you’ve been this well-rested in ages—you lie, listless, on the soft powder-blue bedding of your twin-size mattress, watching specks of dander and dust drift from the amber sunlight that filters through the cracked panes of the casement window. 

It floats aimlessly; unhurried. Much like you.

The echo of last night’s events return to you in sporadic flashes—fragmented and unsteady. The whispered exchanges, the playful banter between you and your unlikely conversation partner play back in your mind, like some half-finished supercut. 

And the more you recall, the more awake you feel, chipping away the last traces of daytime lethargy weighing you down. 

“So, what happens now?”

The sound of a car backfiring breaks through from the outside, like a starting pistol signalling the beginning of another day. A familiar, heavy weight presses against your side, and you thread your fingers through the scraggly fur of the purring feline who’s taken the empty space on your left, just above the covers. 

You breathe in deeply, closing your eyes. 

“I wish I had an answer—I’m still trying to figure that out myself.”

You realize how many questions still linger, a lot more left unanswered. Far more than what you were able to glean, at least. From what little you’ve learned, an entirely new moral dilemma emerges—one you never imagined you'd have to contend with. 

There’s a lot of things you’ve never expected to happen. Yet here you are. 

“Seems we’re at an impasse.” 

It’s an odd thing in itself. You keep waiting for the disbelief to catch up, for a shred of sanity to surface and make you reject the situation you’ve found yourself entangled in. You should be feeling the same, pesky feelings that pulled you sharply out of your flight of fancy last night; a sense of trepidation for what lies ahead in this tenuous game of two. 

But instead, you’re here. Now fully awake, and already looking forward to the day with wary acceptance. Looking forward to resuming where you’ve left off with that charming anomaly who’s upended your world, and left you suspended in an exhilarating limbo of uncertainty and excitement.

“...Indeed.”

You crave it—like the first stirrings of a neophyte druggie teetering on the edge of an irreversible habit. 

You need another hit. 

“Why the long face, little dove?”

Because if desire could manifest into being, it would’ve been Sylus. 

“We can figure this out together, can’t we?” 

You pick up your phone. 

––––

“You’re here? Make yourself at home.” 

You look at him, deadpan. He looks back at you serenely. 

Your voice takes on a dry monotone when you respond, “Keep talking like that, I’m about to cum.” 

There’s a shocked silence; then––

Sylus barks out a surprised laugh, immediately breaking character. 

You snort. “Good morning to you too, I guess.” 

He meets your gaze with a look of scandalized amusement, his smile wide enough to flash teeth. 

"Good morning, indeed."

––––

You two fall into a natural rhythm even before the day comes to a close. Perceptive as he is, Sylus hasn’t let you linger in the unease left over from last night any longer than necessary—which to say, should be left buried and forgotten, past its provenance. 

“So you could, like–hypothetically, top up my ascension materials… indefinitely?” There’s a manic shine to your eyes when you confront him back at the home screen, gleeful and triumphant after you boost almost all the 5-star cards you have of him up to max level. “Like an infinite glitch?” 

He’s content to just simply listen to your excited chatter from his languid perch on the seat, one palm resting against the side of his face as he watches you—half-lidded and relaxed. Utterly entertained by your antics.

The slight twitching of his mouth, the subtle tilt of his head… each minute shift in his expression makes a whole world of difference from the version you’ve known him longest—almost a lifetime ago. 

Now he acts so human, so alive, that it’s almost unreal. 

(It’s almost imperceptible, but you swear the air also feels different; like the pixelated space around him is bending, stretching, to accommodate this newer him.) 

“Sure,” he shrugs, lips quirking up into a half-smile as he notices the deep crease forming between your brows. 

He knows the question you’re about to ask—curious thing that you are.

“How, though? Like, what are ‘materials’ to you?” You make air quotes with your fingers, making you appear all the more endearing to him look at, in your process to make sense of a world that’s unfamiliar to you.

“Think of it as upgrades,” Sylus explains patiently. “You place the order to modify the equipment I use, in whichever situation calls for it.”

“And Memory Cards?”

“... A video reel, maybe. Or a restricted case file—locked until you’ve got enough to trade for the information you want.”

“And I suppose the dealer in question here is you?”

He arches an eyebrow. “Who else?”

“Huh,” you say, considering. “So, Deepspace Trials. That’s something you do on the daily? Because I… make you?”

“More or less.”

“And you never thought to question that?” 

“Mm, maybe I’ll start charging for my services this time around.”

You roll your eyes, already accepting his analogy for what it is. “Oh, please. With the amount of money I’ve spent on this game, consider yourself paid in full.” 

––––

You were right about your earlier prediction—this new Sylus in combat mode is something else. 

For starters, he’s a lot chattier.

“Ouch, kitten– don’t charge in like that.”

“Why are you using a sword? Don’t you like the guns I’ve given you specifically for this?” 

“What are you waiting for? Make her resonate with me now.” 

And, instead of sticking to his lines and responding to whatever the MC’s programmed to say during battle, he focuses on whatever you’re fussing over—no matter how… moronic it is.

“Ah, fuck! I hate that spinning thing!” 

“Move, then. Let me handle it.” 

“Block it, block it!”

“I would, if you weren’t halfway across the field. Stick closer to your partner next time, yeah?” 

He doesn’t say any of his usual lines. Nothing from his scripted prompts. When all Wanderers are defeated, there’s no post-battle banter between him and the MC. 

“Goddamn, you’re strong!” You whoop giddily, completely energized by straight winning almost twelve Orbit trials in a row. I guess that’s what a fully awakened Solar pair gets you, huh? 

Sylus lets out a chuckle, infected by your enthusiasm. He doesn’t sound the least bit winded, despite all the damned fighting you’ve put him through.

“We make a good team,” he allows. And because he likes the little nose scrunch you do when you’re annoyed— “Although your dodging really needs more practice, sweetie.” 

Before you could think of a comeback, the pop-up window for the next stage comes up. Ass.

––––

Come Monday morning and you’re once again swamped with work. 

You barely have enough time to scrounge something up for lunch—if it weren’t for the persistent reminders from Sylus, chiming in every five minutes once the digital clock on your phone had hit eleven-thirty, you’d probably skip eating altogether.

And make something else than just boiling a pot of instant ramen, sweetheart. You’re on track for an early grave at this rate. 

“I could… add an egg?” You suggest, unsure. “Maybe cut up some tofu, make it gourmet?”  

He doesn’t even dignify the egg suggestion with a response. Tofu’s a good start. Now, what else do you have in your pantry that has nutritional value? 

“I despise that,” you mutter, but start rifling through the cupboards anyway. 

After amassing enough ingredients—or what looks more like a sad pile—that might, with some effort, turn into something healthier than your usual go-to fix, you start Googling recipes online.

‘tofu easy lunch recipe’

‘10 mins tofu recipes’   

‘begginer recipe using tofu frozen dory mixed veg—’ Ping!

… Really, kitten? 

You don’t even have to see him to know he’s giving you that look, the one that’s practically dripping with judgment over your dubious life choices. 

(You know it all too well. Personally, in fact. You see it on some relatives' faces at the family get-togethers you’re always required to attend.) 

Great. Heat creeps up your face as you mumble defensively, “Stop. Not everyone’s a culinary genius, okay?”

After that, he lets you be – something you’re thankful for, really. He’s being too distracting anyway. 

Swallowing down the–stubborn and suffocating–embarrassment that's now stuck in your throat, you keep scrolling through Tasty dot co, praying you can whip up something edible with what (little) you have. You’re fully aware that you’re a grown-ass woman who can’t manage a basic life skill and that you’re probably about to burn down your kitchen—

Another notification pops up.

Pull up your tabs, sweetie. I think you’ll find something there that we could put together easily.

Confused, you do as he says. Sure enough, four tofu-related recipes are neatly grouped together in your Chrome browser, ready to be tried and tested.  

Your eyes widen. “Wait—you did this? How?”

He doesn’t answer your question. He does, however, offer: Want me to coach you through it? Cooking’s more fun done with a partner, I’d say. 

-

-

In the end, you manage to make something that tasted way better than you thought you could do by yourself. You have him to thank for that.

“You happy with it?” Sylus asks, grinning at the satisfied look on your face.

“Mhm!” you hum around a mouthful of food. “Fanks, Sy.”

“Anytime, darling.”

––––

“Do you really have to call me ‘kitten’? You sound like a Discord mod.” 

Sylus has no idea what a Discord mod is, but judging by the contempt in your voice, it’s clear that you’re not giving him a compliment.

"What do you prefer, then? Princess? Poppet? Sweet thing?" He pauses, tilting his head. "Baby?"

You blush and look away. "... Ugh, whatever. Kitten's fine."

––––

Your routine with Sylus settles into a seamless, effortless flow as the days go by; it’s almost second nature, talking to him. So much so that you’d think nothing could faze you anymore.

Well. Almost nothing. 

A message bubble from an unknown number appears on your lock screen: Hi, sweetheart. X

You almost ignore it—brushing it off as some dumb prank from a bored rando—when, not even five seconds later, another text pops up. 

+0063-XXXXXX: Its Sylus.

… Huh? 

“Is someone fucking with me right now, or…” 

+0063-XXXXXX: Nobodys ‘fucking with you,’ kitten. 

Then–

+0063-XXXXXX: Send a reply so I can see how it shows up on my end.

Your jaw drops. “Holy shit—you can text?? How are you doing that?” and, “Did you just cuss...?” 

+0063-XXXXXX: 👍

+0063-XXXXXX: And Ill let you know if you text me the question 🙄

So you do. You tack on a now spill?? at the end for good measure. 

You watch the “typing…” bubble appear, holding your breath.

+0063-XXXXXX: Its a complex mix of technical code and harnessing the energy from a dormant protofield Ive discovered, just south of Vagrants Land.  

+0063-XXXXXX: The energy I got from it felt different somehow from your normal protofield. I figured I could put it to good use. 

+0063-XXXXXX: Oddly enough, theres an… indescribable effect to oneself when youre nearing the centre of disturbance, shall we say. 

+0063-XXXXXX: I can only decrypt the waveforms by the rarefield border surrounding the AoR. Any further and Im afraid the adverse effects may do more harm than good.

+0063-XXXXXX: But if amplified, it seems responsive to the filament of what connects your signal from deep space to this planet.

+0063-XXXXXX: Who knew it could act as a transmitter to send you something as rudimentary as a telegraph? 

… Sometimes you forget how smart Sylus really is. 

You: that’s pretty amazing ?? wtf sylus  

+0063-XXXXXX: I get by OK. 

You could practically feel his smugness radiating from those four words. You scoff, shaking your head in a mix of awe and begrudging admiration.

He sends two more messages. 

+0063-XXXXXX: Im just glad we can communicate through other means, sweetie. 

Sy-Sy (??): Now save my number. Sy Sy will suffice 😉

––––

Since your latest discovery that Sylus can now text (!!), you’ve been talking to him outside the game non-stop. It’s like talking to a very active friend who never leaves you on read, and you couldn’t be more ecstatic. 

You: so no one else in ur universe knows anything abt ur situation?

You: no one else acting funny or sumn ? >.>

Sy-Sy (??): None that I know of, no. I prefer to keep it under wraps. 

Sy-Sy (??): Now that you mention it, Mephisto has been acting quite suspicious lately. 

You: ?? suspicious-suspicious or just reg suspicious??

Sy-Sy (??): Hes with his other crow friends now. They might be attempting a murder. 

You: ………. is that…. supposed 2 be a joke……….

Sy-Sy (??): Im running on 3 hours of sleep, give me a break.   

Sy-Sy (??): Also your textspeak is horrendous, sweetie. 

"Um, hello—?" 

Your gaze snaps back to the–very real, very present–person sitting across from you at the table, sporting box-dyed blue hair and a frown. You're at the Annex House; a sleek, new-age Japandi-style bar downtown, just an easy five stations away from your place. You both decided to try it for their infamous Rotten Apple cocktail and, of course, your weekly catch-up.

Khol, your friend of eight years since college, is currently giving you a mildly annoyed look.

Oops. 

They point at you accusingly while complaining, "Ugh, we don’t use our phones when we’re hanging out! That’s the rule!"

You smile at them, sheepish, pocketing your phone as discreetly as you could. “I know, I know. Sorry.” 

Then, puffing out your cheeks, you meekly ask, “You were talking about Anna...?”

They roll their eyes but go over the gossip a second time, much to your benefit. Phew.

Your phone vibrates. Twice. 

…

You sneak a quick, final peek.

Sy-Sy (??): Enjoy your night out, darling ❤️ 

Sy-Sy (??): You let me know when youre back home, OK? 

Biting back a grin, you send out one last text in reply. 

You: will do !:9 

Sy-Sy (??): Good girl. 

––––

"Um–so this is my cat, Maru," you say by way of introduction, holding the plump, orange tabby in front of your phone that’s propped up against a carton of Koko Krunch. There’s a slight struggle in lifting his left paw between your fingers to wave at the man on the other side of the screen. "Say hi, Maru."

“Hello, Maru,” Sylus greets amicably in return, watching the both of you with clear amusement in his eyes. “Care to tell me the origin of this proud beast?” 

You recount the story where you’ve first seen Maru five years ago, nothing more than a scraggly little runt at the time, hiding in the gap between a dumpster and the interstice of a cragged wall. You were walking home from a night out drinking with your uni buddies, when you heard the incessant meowing. 

It drew you in like a siren’s call. If the siren in question had the vocal prowess of a warbling whale on the brink of death.

Upon closer inspection, the grimy fluffball revealed a stubby, crooked tail and wide, beady eyes. In your alcohol-fueled haze, you briefly wondered if you were staring at a tiny ginger rat.

“Well, it’s definitely all cat,” your friend Bee declared by noon the following day, calmly retracting a scratched and bloodied hand from the disgruntled feline, which promptly hissed and darted right back under the bed.

You hummed in agreement, passing her a wad of tissue. 

"I couldn’t decide between Nospurratu and Catpin Meow," you say matter-of-factly, giving your capricious son a scritch under his chin. "Bee suggested I stick to something simpler, like Maru. Hence the name."

Your explanation is punctuated by an offended nip on your pointer finger. 

Sylus is covering his mouth, but nods solemnly. “I think Maru is a nice name.” 

There’s a moment where the two seem locked in a silent standoff, neither breaking eye contact nor making any sort of outward reaction. Just as you’re about to step in and interrupt the bizarre staring contest, Maru gives a slow, deliberate blink.

Sylus takes it as a sign of victory—or perhaps a ceremonial seal of approval.

 With a faint smirk on his lips, he offers the cat a small bow in respect.

––––

You’ve practically emptied the entire arcade of plushies—enough to put it out of business if it were actually, you know, real—and you’re bored to tears. 

“Another round of Kitty Cards, perhaps?” Sylus suggests, but a single glance at your face is enough to let him know that you’d rather gnaw off your own hand. Or his. He might just let you.

Sighing dramatically, you complain about the limited playability of the “mini-games” in-game.

“There’s literally nothing else to do. Same old shit, over and over again.” There’s a pout on your face that Sylus wants to nibble on, not that you’re aware of the forming thoughts in his head. “No new banners. I’m stuck between Kitty Cards and the claw machines... I’m bored, Syyyyy,” you whine, stretching the last syllable for effect.  

To be fair, he has tried to make it a bit more challenging for you. He stopped fucking around during Kitty Cards—no more extra two cards in exchange for one of yours, no longer placing different colored kitties deliberately in the wrong cups. 

After six straight losses, your frustration is palpable. The fun is gone.

He makes audible commentaries during each of your six tries at the claw machine. Every time you manage to snag a plushie, he praises you for a job well done (It flusters you—not that he needs to know that). When your luck runs out and you grab onto nothing but air, he wryly points it out through some slight ribbing, but nothing that’s actually hurtful (This flusters you too—again, not that he needs to know any of this).   

There’s nothing else to do. It’s like you’ve exhausted all you could in this small, curated window of his that you’re privy to. If only there’s a way to leave the mini-games behind, to do something new, perhaps outside of what the game has to offer…

Oh, wait. 

“Hey, Sy,” you call the man to attention. “Wanna try something out?” 

-

-

You beat him at Words with Friends by a small margin.

“Ha! That’s thirty-nine points, buddy.” You crow proudly, after putting down Devotees in a straight column.

He eviscerates you at Zynga Poker. 

“... How are you so good at this??” 

“Comes with the package, sweetie,” he says with faux-modesty after revealing (yet another!!) full house, winking like he hasn’t just wiped the floor with you.

By the end of it, both of you are in high spirits—except, maybe, for your bruised ego.

––––

“Say my name, say my name… If no one is around you, say baby I love you…”

“It’s nice to know that we have another thing in common, little dove.”

 

It takes you a moment to process what he’s implying. 

You stop singing, affronted. “Wh—how dare you.” 

––––

“Are you having fun?” Sylus asks, his tone droll as he stands there, hands on his hips and a small scowl on his face. You’re too busy spinning him around, thoroughly entertained by the number of outfits and accessories you’ve forced upon your slightly reluctant model in the photoshoot that's currently taking place.

It’s more amusing, knowing that he’s fully-aware of what’s happening. And that you know he’s aware of what’s happening. 

He’s like your personal, sentient Ken doll—if Ken had ashy grey hair, red eyes, and a mercurial attitude.

“I am, actually,” you shoot back, grinning as you plop a tomato stuffie on top of his head. “Look, you two match!” 

He exhales a long-suffering sigh, shaking his head in mock exasperation.

Not that it stops you. Fluffy bunny ears, a fish headband, an uncharacteristic halo—you’re relentless. “Hey, can you try a different pose?”

“That depends on the pose… and how nicely you ask.”

“Dear Sylus,” you sing, jutting your bottom lip forward and fluttering your eyelashes exaggeratedly, “could you please, pretty please, flip the camera off?”

He snorts but obliges, raising his hand to deliver the most effortlessly cool middle finger you’ve ever seen. “Happy?”

Woah. That’s… hot. “Oh! Uh. Yeah. Yeah, that’s—”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by your reaction. You giggle nervously. “You look… hot.”

“Mm?” His smirk grows, teasing and predatory. “What was that?”

“Nothing!” you blurt out, but the pinking of your cheeks betrays you. He’s definitely enjoying this now.

“I could be convinced to do another one,” he murmurs, voice pitching a little lower.

You bite the inside of your cheek, fighting the urge to say the first thing that comes to mind. Stop, you whore. 

Your nerves get the best of you. Without thinking, you switch to putting the MC back on screen. 

Sylus blinks, red eyes narrowing as he looks at you, perplexed. 

“Uh,” you shift your gaze between her frozen stance and his idle figure. The sudden silence hangs a little heavy in the air. “Would–would you like to do poses? With her?”

He opens his mouth, an automatic response—but he stops, expression flickering into something unreadable. Confusion? Hesitation? 

His brows knit together, and for a short while, he just studies you, the space between you thick with unspoken questions. 

“Do you want me to?” he asks finally, his voice quieter, almost careful.

No–I don’t want you to— To pose with someone who looks so-–

perfectperfectperfect by your side—I only want to see you—

I want to see you––

Why do I care–?

I don’t care––I care, I care so much–– 

“Why not?” you choke out, the forced cheer in your voice grating even to your own ears. You shrug, nonchalant in all the ways you’re not. “I’ll dress her up real nice, and then—” You slap a pink bow onto his head. “You can try to keep up.” 

He doesn’t move, not paying the offending accessory any attention. His gaze is solely locked onto yours. 

I don’t care. I don’t. 

You take the first shot. 

____

“What’s the song you’re playing?”

You pause mid-mop, cocking your head to the side in slight surprise. 

“Uhh—Pedestal,” you answer unsurely. “By Portishead. You like it?” 

He hums, eyes glinting with interest. “I do. Play the rest.” 

And just like that, you’re introducing Sylus to modern twenty-first century music—and to Spotify.

____

From that point on, Sylus begins using your Spotify account to discover a whole new world of music—quite literally, in his case. Sometimes he steals the control from you, overriding what you’re currently listening to, just to hear the most random track play from your speakers.

In the middle of a mundane afternoon while you're completely locked in at work—hyperpop synths blaring in your ears—you’re suddenly jolted by the sound of heavy mandolins as an honest-to-god Russian military march blasts through your headphones, shattering your focus like a damn rhino in a china shop. 

And so with the level of patience that could put the Virgin Mary to shame, you painstakingly explain to your friend the courtesy of not stealing the proverbial AUX cord from the “driver,” especially when it’s their turn on the radio. 

The two of you reach a compromise, and thus the birth of your “shared” playlist. Sylus reluctantly agrees to explore on his own time—when you’re not using the app. Like when you’re busy with other things. Or when you're asleep. 

-

-

-

You wake up to the first strings of a Muse song. One of your favorites, in fact. 

Sy-Sy (??): Good morning, sweetie. 

Sy-Sy (??): Last night was enlightening. I have you to thank for that.

Sy-Sy (??): Oh, and I hope you could indulge me. I added some songs to our playlist. I think youll like them. We both seem to have a thing for alt-rock.

Sy-Sy (??): Give me time and Im sure Ill acquire a taste for electronic music too. Be patient. 

You huff out a laugh, lazily rolling over as you check your shared playlist. Sure enough, there’s twelve new songs on it.   

You: awe that’s great sy :)) and these songz r rly good !! u got sum of my faves here

You: based on what u like maybe u can try looking up sum david bowie, probz massive attack idk 

You: i’ll add stuff later for u to listen 2!!! <2

You: <3* 

Sy-Sy (??): Alright, sweetheart. Im looking forward to it. 

Sy-Sy (??): ♥️

____

From the outside, the studio is just another unit among endless rows of dull grey—small and unassuming. Tucked away on the sixth floor of a nondescript building, it’s built as unremarkable as the rest.

Through a window stained with a mix of corrosive ochre and burnt sienna, there’s a quiet hum—the presence of something that wasn’t there a week ago. Life has shifted, ever so subtly, from an oppressive achroma to a much warmer vibrancy.  

There’s a faint hint of movement. Inside, the young woman wears an almost-permanent smile, her phone an extension of her hand as she taps away with no semblance of rhyme nor rhythm—only in a continuous staccato. Her eyes are locked on the screen, as if drawn by an invisible force.

It’s elusive; this connection—something beyond. Supranatural. It weaves through the room like whispered secrets shared in the dead of the night, beneath a city blanketed in deep ultramarine. Soft, like a wind brushing through a still everglade. 

The apartment, once steeped in a self-inflicted solitude—one that went by unnoticed for a long period of time—comes alive as an intangible presence fills its nooks and crannies with the steady warmth of companionship. There’s a gentle heat to the space now, like the glow of an invisible hearth. 

The flickering of the string lights, the muted laughter shared with a voice through the tinny speakers of a handheld device, a slight signal interference… all feel like the genesis of an impossible story.

Outside, the evening sky is fading into twilight.

And as one looks out onto the street below from the sixth floor window, it’s almost as if the world outside doesn’t quite matter anymore. 

Inside, the air is full of life, in ways it has never been. 

____

“Come to me, just in a dream

Come on and rescue me

Yes, I know I can be wrong

And maybe you’re too headstrong

Our love is––”

Tagging: @xxfaithlynxx @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @sunsethw4 @stxrrielle @mangooes @hrts4hanniehae @buggs-1 @michiluvddr @ssetsuka @i2sannie @imm0rtalbutterfly @the-golden-jhope @slyfoxtsu @beomluvrr @milkandstarlight @bookfreakk @ally-the-artistic-turtle @tinyweebsstuff @sapphic-daze @sarahthemage @cchiiwinkle @madam8 @slownoise @raendarkfaerie @sylusdarling @luminaaaz @greeenbeean

(if..... for some damn reason..... the tags still don't work i rly don't know what i'm doing wrong T_T i'm posting this from a macbook is that it, is the ghost of steve jobs fucking with me rn)

[sleepy-steve]

steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.5k // inspired by this post ♡

—

november 1983

It wasn’t a bad gig, as far as eternal work in the Underworld went. Eddie didn’t even have to row the boat. He was more of a figurehead. Someone for the souls to follow. Someone to guide them. Seemed like an odd thing to entrust to a dead eighteen year old from the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere USA, but Eddie wasn’t going to argue. Didn’t even know if he could. It had all gone very smoothly. All the souls doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing. Until Steve appears.

Eddie spots him sitting on the riverbank, knees pulled up. Looking a little too casual, in Eddie’s opinion, but he didn’t know the guy’s life. Some souls were more prepared than others.

“Hey, man, time to uh, get moving,” Eddie says, and cringes at himself. He’d already been spoken to about his boat-side manner. But how were you supposed to talk to people that had just died? Eddie still hadn’t quite worked it out. Was supposed to find his own words, instead of working off a script.

“Hm?” The soul looks up in mild surprise. He looks to be about Eddie’s age, and has a black eye, a split lip, and a nasty cut across his nose. Jesus, wonder what happened to him. It wasn’t polite to ask, Eddie’d been taught.

Eddie gestures vaguely at the boat. “C’mon. I’m taking you to the next part.”

“What happened to the last guy?” The guy tilts his head to the side, hair flopping with the movement.

“What?”

“The last guy who was on the boat?” The soul asks, waving a hand in the general direction of the boat. Even from where he stands, Eddie can see the bruises on the guy’s knuckles. “It used to be an older guy, tallish, beard…?”

“I… I don’t know, man.” Eddie flounders. He’d had some chatty souls before, but none that asked questions he wasn’t trained to answer.

“Hm…” The guy hums thoughtfully, nodding to himself. Shifting slightly, he settles into a more comfortable position.

“So…” Eddie stares at him with wide eyes, brows raised expectantly. “You gonna get on the boat or…?”

“Nah.”

“…What do you mean, nah?” Eddie asks incredulously. Was that even allowed? What would happen if a soul didn’t get on the boat? Would Eddie get in trouble for not collecting him?

“Not getting on the boat.” The guy smiles at him, a little crooked from the scar across his lip. “I won’t be here long, don’t worry.”

“What…?” Eddie trails off, before recognition drops into his mind. It was that smile, it reminded him of… “Steve? Steve Harrington?”

“Yeah?” Steve confirms, brows pulled together in confusion. “Wait… holy shit… Eddie, right?”

“Yeah!” Eddie leans over the edge of the boat, bringing him as close as he dares. Close enough to see the blues fade into purples in the bruises on his face. The trail of dry blood still under his nose.

“You died, like, not that long ago, right?” Steve asks, not making any moves to get closer.

“Yeah, yeah, house fire.” Eddie waves him off, not wanting to dwell on the memories of his shitty father and those last moments where Eddie tried to save the few good things he had left. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry you’re here though.” Professionalism is out the window in favour of familiarity.

“Ah, it’s okay,” Steve waves him off back. “Like I said, won’t be here long.”

Eddie knows what this is. Denial. He’d seen it many times since starting this job. “Steve…” He keeps his tone soft, just like he was taught. “I know it can be hard to accept, but you’re dead. That’s why you’re here. You have to get on the boat in order to move on.” Steve is giving him a bemused smile, and Eddie feels a twinge of irritation. He’s doing his best. “I’ll be with you the entire time, I promise.”

“That’s… nice, man,” Steve says, slight grin still on his lips. “But I’m not getting on the boat.”

“Steve. You have to get on the boat.” Eddie throws his hands down to gesture at said boat, exasperated.

“No, I don’t.” Steve gives a little shake of his head.

“Get…” Eddie loses steam for a second before gearing up again. “Get on the boat, man.”

Steve just blinks at him. “I don’t need to.”

“Get on the fucking boat, Steve!” Exasperation is in each word now, Eddie losing his patience. If it wasn’t completely against the rules, Eddie would have jumped off the boat and dragged him on by the collar of his stupid sweater. The souls had to choose to move on.

With a glint in his eye and a half smile, like they’re in on some joke together, Steve still doesn’t move. “No.”

“You’re dead, man,” Eddie snaps. Fuck, he’s losing his cool and is gonna get told off for it. “The sooner you accept that, the better.”

“Woah, woah, Eddie.” Steve holds his hands up. Placating. Another ripple of annoyance runs through Eddie. “Okay, just—I know I’m dead. But I don’t stay dead. This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

Oh, okay. So Harrington is delusional. Eddie briefly wonders just how hard he’d been hit, looking over Steve’s bruises. Was this what killed him? Eddie holds back a grimace. “Just… get on the fucking boat, man. I know it’s hard, but you have to move on. Also, I might get my ass handed to me if you don’t, so like, maybe do it for me?”

Steve laughs good-naturedly. Hopeful that he’s finally gotten through to him, Eddie can’t help but crack a smile at the sound. “So, s’that a yes?” he asks, keeping his tone light.

“Sorry, man,” Steve laughs. “Still a no.” Eddie slumps over the side of the boat dramatically, hair almost dipping into the black water. “But don’t worry. Last guy never got in trouble for not collecting me, so you should be fine.”

Pulling himself back up with an exaggerated sigh, Eddie settles with his forearms on the edge of the boat. “Okay, Harrington. I’m choosing to trust you,” he says, giving Steve a pointed look. “Can I ask…” Steve raises a brow. “What, uh… what happened? To you?” Eddie gestures vaguely at Steve’s overall appearance. The black eye, the cut across his nose, the split lip.

“Oh, this?” Steve points to the bruise. “This isn’t what killed me. Got into it with Byers. Not important, really, anymore…” He trails off before shaking himself. “This, though…” Lowering his knees, dropping his denim-clad legs to the grass, Steve reveals several deep wounds to his chest and stomach.

Eddie lets out a low whistle at them. “Christ, Harrington. You get attacked by a bear or something? We even have bears in Hawkins?”

Steve snorts. “Nah, I don’t know what this thing was. Some kind of alien-monster-creature. Face opened up all…” Steve holds his hands around his face, wiggling his fingers in a fan. “…creepy.”

Looking at him with furrowed brows, Eddie isn’t sure if Steve is messing with him, or genuinely believes that a monster killed him and that he’s not going to stay dead. Eddie stays silent, assessing him.

“Anyway,” Steve clears his throat, awkward under Eddie’s stare. “Nancy and Jonathan are probably freaking out right now, I’ll have to explain when I wake up.” He’s rambling, Eddie notices with slight amusement. “Which should be soon, though this might be the longest I’ve spent down here. Last time was quicker for sure.”

“Last time?” Eddie asks, unable to stop his curiosity.

“Yeah, the, uh, car accident,” Steve says. “Got t-boned at an intersection, died on the spot. Woke up with a broken arm, three broken ribs, and this crazy head wound.” He waves a hand around the side of his head. “Got lucky, all things considered.”

“Right…” Eddie vaguely recalls hearing about Harrington’s car wreck from last year. But surely he hadn’t died. It wasn’t impossible, but highly unlikely.

“You don’t believe me.” Steve grins at him, and Eddie feels his cheeks warm at it.

“Can you blame me?”

Steve considers him for a moment. “No, I guess not.” His head turns sharply, as though he hears something that Eddie doesn’t. “Time’s up.” Steve stands, brushing blades of dry grass off his jeans. He gives Eddie a two-finger wave. “Until next time, Munson.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie leans over the side of the boat again as Steve turns to walk away. “Where are you going?”

Throwing a thumb over his shoulder, Steve huffs a laugh. “Back.”

“Steve!” Leaning dangerously far over the edge of the boat, Eddie calls after his retreating form. He watches with wide eyes as Steve quite literally fades from view, figure growing more translucent until finally disappearing completely. Unable to pull his gaze away from the empty grass field where Steve stood just a moment ago, Eddie only has one thought in his mind:

What the fuck?

[backwzzds]

ೃ⁀➷ spoil you, plug!eren

eren hated when you spent your own money, but you don’t listen.

thinking about the way plug!eren would take you on his drops with him. you were so quiet and in your own world, he never minded the fact that you had your freshly white painted toes resting against the dash of his mercedes AMG coupe. the entire car was blacked out with expensive ceramic tints, protecting you both from your usual…late night activities.

your glasses rested on the cute bridge of your nose as your left leg was sat in eren’s lap while your right rested against the dashboard. eren was lucky that he fucked with most of his customers heavy…you two had been waiting for the dude to meet y’all for nearly thirty minutes now, and had it been someone else, eren would have sped away long time ago.

eren comfortingly rubbed your baby soft feet in the grasp of his tattooed hand, one with beautiful realism art of your own eye. with a turn of his head, he could see you practically nose deep in the bright screen of your phone illuminating through the car. “you growing bored mama?” his voice is concerned. “ian think we was gonna be waiting this long on dude…my bad baby.”

you hadn’t said much since you’d gotten in the car, just wanting to hurry and add all of your things to your shopping cart on the skims website. “nah, ‘m just…trying…to do somethin’ real quick,” you bite your lip as you tap away on your phone. you were trying to add as many things to your cart before it was gone. “before this shit sell out.”

eren being the nosy boy he is leans against your shoulder to see what you were doing. but the moment he’d seen you type in numbers that belonged to what he knew as your own debit card, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. “man how many times i gotta tell you to stop using your card to go shopping bae?” you roll your eyes at his words. “i’m serious, you got all three of my cards on ya phone for a reason. fuck is you typing in your info for?”

don’t get him wrong, eren loved the fact that you were independent and knew how to handle money almost perfectly now that you were in your twenties. but being together with you for so long, he continued to step up with his provider capabilities by always taking care of you. whether it was paying your bills, rent—everything in between.

but of course it was a struggle when ms. i can do it all by myself meets mr. i know you can but let me do it for you

“because i’m spending like 600 dollars,” you point out to his previous question with an obvious scoff. “i’m not asking you for that.” eren mirrors your actions and rolls his eyes again.

eren looks at you as if you’re insane and suffered memory loss for the past four years you’ve been together. “babe…i make that shit in one night. actually—fuck a night—i make that shit in two hours!”

it wasn’t like he was lying either, with the way that eren was one of the only trusted plugs in town, it was very easy that he’d bring at least a band a night on a consistent basis. selling for almost six years was finally paying off.

you two hardly ever fought, but if you did, it was always about money. eren knew how long you’ve had to do things on your own physically and financially. you couldn’t go to your mom for help, you didn’t have a dad to beg, so it was all on you since you’d been 16. but now that he had eren, he’d just wish you’d let him take the burden of money of your shoulders and take care of you the way you take care of him.

after a few minutes, your boyfriend holds his hand out. you give him crazy eyes, but eventually follow orders by putting your phone in his hand. “don’t know how many times i gotta tell yo stubborn ass, forreal,” he grunted. “‘s never a problem spoiling my baby. you don’t ever ask me for nothing. let me feel useful and get you stuff, mama.”

with a sigh, you nod your head, like you always did. there was no way eren was gonna take no for an answer when it came to spoiling his wife.

in response, eren uses his free hand to delete your information and instead place the correct numbers—the information to his amex black card. all the money he has, he sits and does nothing with it, so why not buy you all the things you’ve never had before?

when you hear the chime of your phone confirming your order, eren hands you the phone back and goes to look out his dark window.

with your acrylics, you grab eren by the neck and slowly turn him back to face you. “thanks papa,” you gave him genuine eyes.

eren leans forward and pecks your lips. with a serious face, he pecks you one more time before wrapping his tatted fingers around your neck erotically. with a look in your eyes he tells you, “always tell me what you want, no matter how much, mama. you know daddy gonna get that shit for you one way or another, regardless.”